#and asking every one of my available colleagues

[baiika]

//it was a terrible idea to put the new hires on weekends. i'm going to be spending HOURS fixing the mistakes they make, & it's all shit i've shown them how to do like a dozen times

[deanstead]

Home

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Jay notices something is wrong with Y/N's mood over the phone

Word Count: 1.5K+

Tags/Warnings: mentions of (workplace) harassment

A/N: I know I haven't written in months so starting off slow/small to see if maybe I haven't lost my touch... also @halsteadlover may have threatened me to post this.

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You glanced at the last message Jay had sent you a few hours earlier and smiled.

You got this.

Three simple words that somehow warmed your heart even though you were miles away in another city.

You rarely had to travel for work even though you’d worked as a translator at this company for some time. You mostly dealt with inbound foreign clients who came to Chicago but this time, they’d needed a translator for a conference outside Chicago and you were the only available one. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far so you didn’t even have to take a flight and the company had arranged for a car for you to get there.

Which was all too well, since Jay had also had his hands full and had to go undercover for a few days.

So it was even more heartwarming to see the message from Jay when you hadn’t really been expecting a reply.

Even though you had only seen the message after the conference, it still felt comforting to feel the last dredges of work nerves and anxiety leave your system.

“Y/N, come on.” One of your colleagues from another team called out to you and you stuffed your phone back into your pocket, before following her toward the private room of the restaurant where you were all supposed to be having dinner with a huge client.

You didn’t even like having social dinners with people you weren’t close with, not to mention dinners like this.

Dinner had barely started when you were proven right.

“Thanks to your team, the conference went very well.” The client smiled, looking around. “Of course, we have to thank Y/N for ensuring all communication went smoothly.”

You’d just smiled when you felt his hand slide onto yours from under the table and the smile froze on your face.

Instinctively, you pulled your hand away, bringing your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and grabbing your jacket from behind you and draping it around you, smiling.

“Just doing my job, Mr. Saunders.”

You saw the look on his face and knew he’d taken offense, ridiculous as it was.

You chose to ignore it, pretending like nothing had happened. After all, he’d probably have gotten the hint.

He hadn’t.

The client made a few more passes at you - a hand on your knee, trying to take your hand again, and the most outrageous one was holding up food to feed you in front of everyone.

The action wasn’t lost on everyone who was there but no one spoke up.

You swallowed. “I’ll help myself.”

It was like something snapped in him and he glanced at you coldly and said, “Guess if you’re not hungry, you should go out and wait for everyone to finish.”

You glanced helplessly at your team manager who gave you a look to ask you not to make things worse than they already were.

You gritted your teeth but bit back any sort of response, getting up and leaving the room, a mix of anxiety, humiliation, self-doubt, and every other negative emotion swirling in the pit of your stomach.

Jay sighed, stretching as he sat up from the couch.

The apartment was uncharacteristically quiet since you were away for work.

Jay looked up at the clock. It was slightly past 10 which was weird because he hadn’t heard back from you.

Getting up to get himself a glass of water, Jay glanced at his messages before he decided he’d try and call. Even if you were still with your colleagues, you could probably still answer the phone since the conference was over.

There were two rings before you answered.

“Hey, still having fun with your colleagues?”

There was a slight pause before you answered.

“Jay.”

Jay frowned, immediately picking up on the fact that something was wrong.

“Y/N? What’s going on? You okay?”

Jay’s voice was gentle and so comforting, you felt the prick of tears again.

You cleared your throat. Honestly, crying on the street in the middle of the night was the last thing you wanted to do. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Have you eaten?” Jay’s worried voice sounded through the phone.

You smiled to yourself even as a tear escaped and slid down your cheek.

“Yeah, told you there was good food waiting for me after the conference.”

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jay pressed.

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “I’m fine. I just… miss you.” You managed to keep your voice steady.

“I’ll come and get you,” Jay answered.

“Jay, it’s late and you probably haven’t had enough sleep for the past few days. I’ll take the earliest bus out to Chicago tomorrow.”

You heard the reluctance in his voice even though he agreed and after reassuring him not to worry, you hung up.

The wind felt even colder now as you sat by the side of the road, your carrier bag sitting next to you.

Technically you had another night at the hotel but you hadn’t felt like staying there for even a second longer. Other than the fact that the client knew exactly which room you were in, your team manager had left a message for you berating you for how you’d handled the situation which made you even more disgusted than you already were.

You didn’t know how long you sat there but as you felt it turn colder you thought you should get up and maybe find somewhere else to sit for the night. You didn’t care if you had to sit up all night at a 24-hour cafe but you weren’t going back to the hotel.

You’d barely gotten to your feet, reaching for your carrier when a familiar truck pulled up right before you.

You froze, as Jay appeared right before you like magic.

“Jay… you…”

Jay’s green eyes appeared even brighter than usual as he looked at you with a mix of exasperation and worry. “I came to take you home.”

You’d clearly been sitting out here for longer than you thought, but it didn't matter because when Jay finished speaking you felt the tears well up in your eyes as the security that Jay always made you feel flooded through your entire body and finally gave you enough courage to cry.

Jay stepped forward, wordlessly enveloping you into his arms.

You dissolved into sobs as you felt his arms around you and he pressed you gently into his embrace, his hand over the back of your head protectively. Jay didn’t say anything, just standing there quietly with you in his arms until your sobs gently died down.

"I…”

Jay pressed his lips against your temple and whispered, “Let’s go home.”

Jay didn’t ask you anything on the way home, and you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew Jay was pulling into the parking lot in front of your building and your stomach gave a tiny rumble as Jay killed the engine.

You glanced at him and Jay just let out a chuckle.

“Come on, I’ll order us a pizza and you can get comfortable.”

By the time you got out of the shower, the pizza was here and you got comfortable on the sofa as Jay handed you a slice and curled in next to you.

You didn’t say anything and Jay didn’t push you as you finished your first slice before you glanced up at him.

“I’m sorry.” You said in a low voice.

Jay raised an eyebrow.

“You must be exhausted.” You added.

There was a silence which made you look up and you felt the rare surge of insecurity from not being able to read the look on Jay’s face.

“Did you think I’d be able to go to sleep when I could hear how upset you were?” Jay said quietly. “Y/N, listen. You don’t have to worry about asking me to go out of my way for you. In fact, if it was possible, I hope you’d always do it. I’d go to the moon and back for you if you needed me to.”

You felt the tears well up in your eyes again, this time from an overwhelming feeling of being loved by someone.

Jay just quietly pressed his lips against your temple.

You leaned into him, the rest of the pizza slices forgotten on the table.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

You bit your lip, sitting up a little before you recounted what had happened that night as vaguely as possible, with bare details.

Even so, you could literally hear Jay grinding his teeth beside you.

You glanced at him. “Jay.”

“I’ll kill him. I will literally break his hands.”

You snuggled back into his side. “No, you won’t.” You mumbled. “But I needed to hear that.”

Jay sighed and pulled you tighter against him. “You did the right thing, you know that right? No matter what anyone says.”

You nodded without looking up and Jay patted the back of your head gently, ruffling your hair gently in the process.

You leaned deeper into Jay’s embrace before turning your head up gently to glance at him.

Jay smiled and leaned down to press his lips gently against yours. The negative feelings of the entire night were long gone because you were right where you belonged - home with Jay.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[valdevia]

Howard Stanley Crewe (1871-1919) was one of the first spirit photographers. These Spiritualists claimed to capture images of the deceased using tricks like double exposure.

Though Crewe's images show the same signs of manipulation, his last portraits still puzzle researchers.

Howard, born in Chicago, was a struggling writer with a knack for photography. He made headlines in 1909 when he claimed to photograph the spirit of his recently-deceased wife, starting a thriving business.

In 1919, Crewe started seeing something unexpected in his pictures.

Crewe, alarmed, wrote a letter to his colleague William Hope, asking for advice:

"Something has contaminated my photographs. Whatever it is, it follows me wherever I go. I have tried changing locations, cameras… To no avail. It only seems to get clearer with every image."

Hope replied: "It may be a true message from beyond, friend. Have you tried a self-portrait? This might make it show itself clearly."

This image is Crewe's last photograph, taken the day of his death. The damaged plate was found still in his camera, with no signs of tampering.

[moonywritez6]

When You're Gone Part 2 (Reupload)

Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso

Reader: Fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, readers death, violence, blood, swearing, pet names, fire

Context: The reader ends up dying due to sorcerers, and villagers. This is their reaction after you are gone. (Witch!reader for Sukuna)

Word Count: 4,677

A/N: Hello my sweets! Unfortunately, I got locked out of my old blog account, so I had to make a new one! So, chances of you having seen this before are high as it's on my old account! (I am so sad about it honestly). But I am going through all my old accounts posts and reuploading them here! I hope you can still enjoy my works!

Part 1

______________________________________________________________

Toji

Toji sighed as he walked into the abandoned building where he was supposed to meet with Shiu. 'What a pain.' Toji thought, interested in something other than what Shiu had to discuss with him. Toji was considering skipping the meeting altogether if it wasn't for you. Toji smirked at the thought of your shy smile, ready to hear your sweet voice scold him for zoning out while your colleague was trying to discuss business with him. The memory brings a slight chuckle to his throat as he places a hand behind his neck, letting out a loud yawn as he notices Shiu standing there. Alone. 

Toji hums, stopping a few paces in front of the detective. "Hm? What, did little Miss Tiger decide to skip out on us today?" He teased, knowing you hated the nickname he had assigned you due to your stern personality. Shiu just stared at the assassin with a sad look as he sighed deeply, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "That's actually why I called you out today…." He tossed the cigarette on the ground, Toji watching as he stomped it with his foot. "As of three days ago, Y/l/n Y/n was killed in her home by a wanted sorcerer she had was assigned to," Shiu said while making direct eye contact with Toji. 

"What?" Toji asked, his eyes narrowing as a frown adorned his face. Shiu just sighed, knowing that Toji didn't believe his words. "Y/l/n Y/n is dead." Toji's fists clenched as he went and roughly grabbed Shiu by the collar, his face inches from the detectives. "Quit yer fucking bullshit and tell me the truth. Cause I ain't finding this joke funny." Toji growled, his neck flexing as a vein appeared on his right temple. Shiu didn't back down as he stared at Toji with serious eyes. Toji clicks his tongue as he tosses Shiu away before turning on his heel to leave the building. "Fushiguro!" Shiu called out, not having finished everything he wanted to say to the assassin. Toji ignored him as he pulled his phone out angrily, dialing your number and pressing it to his ear, waiting for your voice to pick up on the other end. 

The number you have dialed is not available; please-

Toji cursed quickly, hanging up the phone as he continued to call your number multiple times. "Fucking brat answer the phone." He hissed, walking past numerous people on the streets. Just as Toji was about to call you again, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face from the corner of his eye. Toji stopped in place, his phone now resting at his side still open as he stared at the TV inside a small store. There was a news channel with a small picture of you with the caption, 'Local woman found dead in her apartment. Cause of death: a giant hole through the chest.' Toji's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide in disbelief. 

Once your picture was no longer on the screen, Toji cursed to himself as he quickly returned home. Once home, Toji slammed the door as hard as he could, not even bothering to turn on the lights before throwing everything in his line of sight, trashing his apartment as he yelled multiple curses. 

_____

Days have passed since Toji was hit with the news of your horrible death. Your funeral was two days later, but Toji never went. He refused, thinking that if he went and saw your name on one of those damned stones, every person he came in contact with would be killed on sight. It wasn't like the two of you had been dating for long, about a year, to be exact. Toji had many girlfriends and flings before meeting you, so he never cared when they would turn up missing or disappear without anyone knowing. However, when it came to you, it was different. What Toji felt for you was similar to when he lost his wife. 

Toji sat on the floor of his apartment; broken items littered the room as the lights remained off. A slight glow lit up the room as Toji saw his phone ringing. He lifted it to see Shiu's contact appear on the screen. Growling in annoyance, he flipped the phone on, pressing it to his ear. "What?" He snapped his voice slightly horse from having yelled so much before. "You sound awful. Have you been taking care of yourself at all?" Toji groans as he presses his thumb and pointer finger to his eyes. He applies pressure as he rubs them, feeling how tired his eyelids are as the dark circles slightly appear from the phone's light. "Get to the point. I'm in no mood." He grumbled while pulling another cigarette from his pocket. 

"You weren't at Y/n's funeral." Shiu was blunt and to the point, causing Toji to grunt as he placed the stick between his lips. "So what? I don't need to make an appearance around people who I never fucking saw once around her." He spat while patting his pockets to find his lighter. It wasn't entirely an excuse. When Toji and you started dating, he had never met anyone who claimed to care for you. Shiu didn't say anything momentarily, causing Toji to furrow his brows in annoyance. "Anything else?" He growled, not wanting to be on the phone any longer. "We're still looking for the man who killed her. I promise Toji he will be found and punished." Shiu claimed with total confidence. Toji's eyes narrowed as he listened to those words; scoffing, he tried lighting the cigarette. "Oh, you're damn right he will be…. I'm going to fucking kill him. That's my promise." Before Shiu can say anything else, Toji hangs up, tossing the phone randomly. 

Toji sits there; brows furrowed in annoyance as he flicks at the lighter, growing increasingly agitated with it not working. "Tch. Fucking useless-!" Toji goes to throw the lighter but stops when he notices what one is in his hand. He freezes, staring at the small item, remembering when you had given it to him as a gift. 

____

You and Toji were out discussing business when it suddenly started to rain down, causing the two of you to get soaked as you ran for cover. The two of you sigh as you watch the rain fall from where you now stand, soaking wet. "Geez! The forecast said nothing about rain!" You whined angrily, scrolling through your phone as you double-checked the weather. Toji grunted as he ran a hand through his hair, watching the water droplets fly off. "I should've packed an umbrella…." You whispered in thought, brows furrowed, a slight pout on your lips. Toji internally chuckled, finding your expressions amusing. 

You were always frowning or having some angry tick whenever something didn't go as planned, or you would get mad, which caused him to love teasing you every chance he could. "Well~ well~ it looks like miss organized and plans ahead failed once again~" He teased, a sly grin on his face as he went and pulled out a cigarette. You looked at him, eye twitching as he placed it between his lips. He looks down at you curiously before grinning, one brow raised. "Got something to say, tiger?" He questioned, raising his lighter. You click your tongue, looking away from him. "As if I would have anything to say to such a rude man!" You scoffed, earning a chuckle. 

It went silent between the two of you. The only sounds heard were the falling rain and the clicking of Toji's lighter. You glanced up, noticing the annoyed look on the taller man's face as he grunted, trying to get it to light. The two of you stood like that momentarily before you thought of something. “One moment, Fushiguro! I'll be right back!" You announced suddenly, running to the convenience store across the street. Toji stood there, confused momentarily, before trying the lighter again. After a few more tries, he curses, tossing the small contraption to the ground and taking the cigarette out of his mouth. 

He watches the convenience store waiting for your small form to appear in the doors. When you finally come out, he takes notice of the umbrella in your hand as You quickly run across the street, standing in front of him again. You look at him, a small pant leaving your lips as you hold your fist out to him. He looks at you curiously but complies, holding one of his giant hands out for you. You place the lighter in his hand, surprising him with the sudden gesture. "You didn't have to do that tiger." He mumbled but still went and used the lighter for his cigarette, nodding in approval. 

You just laughed, placing a hand behind your neck as you smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks. "Well, consider it as my apology gift to you!" You laughed shyly. "Apology? For what?" He mumbled, leaning back against the building under which you both had taken shelter. You just smiled a bright smile, a blush coating your cheeks as you held a finger up to your lips as if telling him not to spill a secret. 

"For forming a crush on you of course!" 

_____

Toji sat there, eyes covered by his messy bangs as he gripped the lighter. "Damn tiger…" He cursed as he forcefully tried to flick the lighter on again, this time not stopping as his body began to shake. “Fuck Y/n….” He looked up with tears running down his face as he bit the cigarette as hard as he could. 

"Come back and declare your love for me over and over again, dammit." 

Sukuna

You were known as the witch of the woods. No one entered those woods fearing being cursed or killed in horrible, gruesome ways. However, that was far from the truth, as you were a sweet and docile woman who only wished to heal and create with your magic. You and Sukuna had first met when he had entered the woods in search of your magical abilities. When he showed up at your small hut in the woods, you were surprised, not by his fearful appearance but by his giant wound in his side, causing immense amounts of blood to gush out. Sukuna watched you quickly drop the items you were holding as you ran to him, your small frame inches from his intimidating one. He flinched as you placed your tiny hands around the wounded area, eyes scanning the injury with deep concentration. 

Sukuna frowned at you, not liking how you didn't cower in his presence or even acknowledge his fearful appearance. He roughly grabbed your hand with one of his own, pulling it up so you were forced to look up at his face, each eye holding a murderous glare. "Oi, pitiful witch of the woods. Who do you think you are to approach me like this?" He hissed; a voice filled with venom. You just looked at his eyes, showing no fear as you said nothing. You went and placed a hand on his wound, chanting in a language he was not familiar with. 

Sukuna watched as the wound healed faster than he could regenerate it. He hummed in amusement while looking down at you with a dark smirk. You just looked at him, your aura tense and powerful. "I am not afraid of curses." You declared a voice so elegant it made his ears ring. He laughed loudly, causing you to flinch at the sudden noise covering one of your ears in pain. Sukuna pulls you closer to him, faces inches apart as he looks at you with a deranged smile. "You're such an amusing witch of the woods…. It makes me want to play with you more before ending your pathetic and weak life." He laughed, looking deep into your eyes. 

Sukuna became enthralled by your talents, watching you cast spells he didn't know or ever heard of. You taught him some of the magic you knew over time, informing him of the repercussions of some of the spells. He would listen carefully, wanting to know everything if it meant his chances of gaining even more power. The two of you were complete opposites, so it was strange how you became so close. You never understood why a man filled with nothing, but murderous and selfish intent could ever want with someone like you who wished for peace and never had any selfish desire. 

"We don't share much in common, do we?" Sukuna grunted one day when the two of you sat outside. You looked at him, tilting your head as you continued to mix some herbs for a new medicine you were working on. "You're just realizing this now, Sukuna-san." Your laugh was so soft that it made Sukuna feel a tingle in his chest. "Tch. Do you finally want to die?" He grumbled, giving you a slight glare as he flicked your forehead, his other arms crossed over his chest while the fourth one scratched the back of his head. You whine as you hold your forehead, a giant pout on your face. "So weak." He teased, "Like I said, not much in common." He shrugged, looking away from you to stare at the setting sun. 

"Indeed, we don't share much in common, but…. there is one thing we will have until the day comes when we die." You whispered while placing a handout towards the setting sun with a sad look on your face. "Oh? And what would that be?" Sukuna hummed, interested in your words, as he glanced down at you in wonder. Though small, Sukuna could see the sad and lonely smile on your lips. "The world will hate us…never to be accepted for what we are." Your words took a moment to sink in for Sukuna. He hummed, his expression unreadable. 

Suddenly, he was placing both his right arms towards the sunset like you. "Even if that's true… I'll always accept you for what you are." He mumbled. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, lips slightly parted. He made no effort to look at you as his eyes stayed fixed on the changing colors in the sky. "Sukuna-san…" you felt your heart racing as heat started to sneak onto your face. Suddenly, he looked at you with an annoyed look, brows furrowed in confusion and annoyance as he went and hit your head. "Also, who the hell do you think will be dying?! Damn stupid witch!" He yelled, causing you to cry while he just shoved the herbs you had been mixing down your throat. 

_______

The king of curses couldn't believe his eyes and ears as he stood in place, body in complete shock. Down below him was a village just outside the woods he had grown to call home. There, in the center of said village, stood a huge crowd of angry and fearful villagers, each one cheering or chanting multiple curses into the air as they looked at the giant fire that rose into the sky, turning the once beautiful sunset view into a clouded gray sky. However, it wasn't the villagers that were causing the fear in Sukuna's heart and soul. Oh no. It was the screams of his lover, whose shadow was seen thrashing within the flames tied to a giant pole. 

"Stop it! Please! What did I do wrong?! Please tell me!" You cried from the flames. Sukuna's fists started dripping blood as all the blood vessels in each of his eyes burst. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You apologized to the villagers who relished in your pain and suffering. He was seeing red. Before anyone could process anything, Sukuna was brutally murdering every one of the villagers, ensuring they didn't die without immense pain. His shouts and feral laughter were the last thing to curse their ears. Soon, the village was nothing more than a blood bath. Sukuna stood there, blood dripping from every part of his body as he looked down at the burnt body in front of him. 

He doesn't say anything as he kneels carefully, picking up your body with all four arms staying there, making sure your body is as close as possible to his as he grits his teeth before screaming into the sky cursing the entire world. 

_____

"Hey Sukuna, do you believe in soulmates?" You asked while reading from that mysterious book of yours. "Huh? Soulmates? I know I joke about you being stupid but I'm starting to think that you really are." He said, looking at you annoyed. You frown at him going and whispering a small spell, causing the tea he was drinking to spray up while he went to take a sip. You stand there, mouth covered with one hand, trying to hold your laughs back.

Meanwhile, Sukuna gave you the most sadistic look you could ever imagine, tea dripping from his face. "Y/n~" He sang in a deadly tune. You cringe as you cower in the corner, waving your hands in front of you frantically. 

"SUKUNA IT WAS A JOKE!" You cried while he stood there cracking his knuckles, a dark aura surrounding him. "I just wanted to see if you would help me with this old spell I found!" You squealed, bracing yourself for what was to come. When nothing happened, you peeked from behind your fingers. "Eh?" You asked confused. Sukuna just stood there looking down at you with a curious expression. "An old spell?" He questioned, bending down to your height and tilting his head in thought. "About soulmates?" You nod "mhm!" "You want to see if we're soulmates?" You nod proudly, arms crossed over your chest. Sukuna smirks as he watches his words slowly process for you. A deep blush covers your cheeks as you stammer over your words, trying to defend yourself while he laughs, finding the situation amusing. He rests his head on one of his fists as he crouches before you. "Then do it." He said, a cocky smirk on his face. "I wanna see…if you're my soulmate witch of the woods." You blushed tears from embarrassment in the corners of your eyes as you looked away quickly, getting everything you needed for the spell. Sukuna didn't move; he just stayed in place, watching you place all the items in front of him before sitting on the other side. 

"Okay! Ready?" You ask, a shy smile on your face. Sukuna hums, holding an arm out as he pricks some skin, watching the drop of blood fall into the bowl. You carefully do the same thing, neither of you saying a word. "How will we know?" He mumbles, not looking away from the bowl. "According to the spell, if you're soulmates, then both of you will suddenly have-!" You stop noticing the black tattoos form on your wrists along with others. You quickly looked up at Sukuna, seeing the same thing happen to him, only his markings were slightly different. The two of you stare at each other in shock. "...markings…" You whispered, a slight blush on your cheeks. Sukuna stares at you, eyes still slightly wide, before kissing you deeply. 

You squeak, feeling his hands start to feel up and down your body, not in a lustful way but in what feels like a devoted one. "My soulmate…my witch of the woods…your soul belongs only to me." He whispered, kissing up your neck before reaching your lips. You just giggled while placing your hand on his cheek, a soft smile on your face. "Sukuna-san…thank you for allowing me your soul… it's my greatest treasure."

______

"OI! SUKUNA!" Sukuna slowly opened his eyes, staring at the bottom of his throne. 'Ah, that's right…the kid is crying about helping that damn friend of his…tch. Not my fault he got his soul changed.' Sukuna thought, uninterested in what Yuji yelled at him. He just sighed before noticing a small tear falling from his eye. He swipes it away while looking at the markings on his wrist. He smiled a small smile, something that no one in the world would ever see besides one person, and she was gone. Sukuna placed a gentle kiss on the tattoos. 

"My soul yearns for you my Queen…my soul…one that only you can have and touch…my Y/n…" 

Choso

Choso fell against the wall, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the flower, eyes wide in shock. His mouth opened to scream, cry, yell, but nothing came out. He grips both sides of his head and slowly shakes it before squeezing his eyes shut, the tears appearing to get worse. Choso opens his eyes, glancing to his left to see the broken pieces of what was once a cursed item that informed him of your well-being. The two of you decided to get them when Choso started to fear for your safety after the deaths of his two younger brothers. He remembers your gentle smile as you happily agreed to his request, telling him you would do anything to ensure his mind was at ease. 

When he processed the broken pieces once again, signaling that you were no longer in this world with him, Choso snapped, his eyes practically rolling back as he screamed until it felt like his lungs would tear from his chest. "Why?! Why?! I don't understand why she was only gone for two days!" He screamed to himself while rolling around on the floor like a madman, the tears never-ending. First, his brothers and now his lover, all three gone from his side within a blink. "How could I fail to protect my family?!" Choso felt his fingers dig into the flesh of his face, tiny beads of blood appearing here and there. "Y/n! Y/n!" Choso reached for the broken pieces, his body soon becoming still as he grits his teeth, his eyes leaking tears. 

"My beautiful sweet bleeding heart…tell me it's a lie…you said you would be right back by my side." Choso sobbed as he held the broken cursed object to his chest while staring at the night sky. Choso's mind runs wild as he asks himself so many questions about your death. 'Was she scared? Did she suffer? Was it peaceful? Did they torture you? Did you cry? Smile? Were you lonely? Did you wish for him to save you?' all these thoughts ran through his head as he cried into the night. After some time, Choso quieted down, slowly rising to his feet as he stomped to his family's home, your home, no, to his home. He said nothing, his eyes void of any light as he lifted his head to the sky like a zombie, watching as snow started to fall. 'It's so cold tonight, Y/n….' He thought his hand subconsciously opened as if ready to take another's smaller one.  

_______

"Choso! Can I have a hug?!" You cheered, standing before your cursed boyfriend with a giant smile as you held your arms wide open. Choso just looked at you from his seat, tilting his head in confusion. "But didn't I just give you one five minutes ago?" he asked, not understanding why you wanted another one. You smile at him, slightly jumping in your step as you lean forward, arms still open, awaiting his embrace. "So?! What if I want to hug you every five minutes? You hurt me, my blood lotus." you whispered a slight pout on your cheeks. Choso flinches as he quickly goes and wraps you in his loving embrace. "I could never dream of such a thing. Me? Hurt you? I would rather die my bleeding heart." He whispers while inhaling the smell of your shampoo you knew he loved. 

"I love everything about you, my sweet flower." he caressed your cheek, a tiny blush on his cheeks as he avoided eye contact, still too embarrassed. You just giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck when he went to pull away from the hug. You hum, pressing your forehead to his as you force him to look into your eyes. You smile, eyes as bright as the day he met you. "Your eyes are so beautiful…" You whispered, gently placing the pads of your thumbs onto his dark circles, giving a small massage to the flesh. Choso lets out a small moan of approval as he carefully caresses one of your wrists with his fingers barely grazing your skin. "My bleeding heart…" You watched as Choso placed tender kisses on your wrist, his eyes glancing at you with much love and admiration. 

"Does this makeup for me hurting you earlier? Or do you wish for more?" He whispered, his thumb slowly dragging down your bottom lip, causing you to blush at his sudden boldness as you quickly jumped away, hiding your face. "T-that's perfectly fine! I'm already way better! I promise!" You stumble over your words, causing a gentle smile to caress Choso's face. "I adore you." He whispered honestly. "I-I get it!" you cried, covering his mouth with your hands. He laughs, loving how cute you are being. Choso pushes back a strand of your hair once you remove your hands from his mouth. "There's just one thing I'll never understand," he confessed, ensuring that you looked presentable when you had to go outside on your next assignment. "Hm? What is it?" You asked, tilting your head as you interlocked your fingers with his. "This," he confessed, gesturing to your hands holding one another. 

"You always want to hug or touch me in some way almost every second of the day. I am not complaining, of course…as I love you and…" he trailed off, growing shy at his words before clearing his throat. "I guess I just don't get why that is all." He admitted with a slight nod. You hum a smile as you lean back slightly, tilting your head to the side, eyes closed in thought. "Well…I guess it's because…for me I feel like if I don't keep touching you, you'll disappear from my side forever. So I want to ensure you're still with me in this world, Choso." You confessed this time using his name instead of your chosen nickname for him. Choso blushes before smiling as he lets out a tiny laugh while going to ruffle your hair. 

"Haha! You're so silly! I'll really never understand you Y/n." he confessed lovingly. You just looked up at him with your biggest smile, a deep blush on your cheeks as you placed a kiss on his lips. "I love you so, so much my bloody Lotus!" You cheered, and Choso could practically see just how pure and true your love for him was while looking into your eyes. 

_______

Choso stood in the doorway of your once-shared bedroom. His drained facial expression scanned the entire area, ensuring he took everything in, wanting to remember this room with all your shared belongings for the rest of his life. Choso lays down on the shared bed, making sure he curls up into a bawl as he shakily reaches for your pillow and your side of the blanket, bringing both pieces of fabric next to him, squeezing like they, too, would vanish from his grasp. Choso inhales your scent, tears falling from his face, drenching your once favorite pillow as he shoves his face into it, not wanting to forget your smell once it no longer remains in the place you two called home. 

"I wish you were here, my bleeding heart…I want to feel you next to me…I need you next to me." Choso cries, his entire body shaking as his mind fails to accept what has happened. Guilt soon fills his heart as he lets out a heart-wrenched sob, squeezing his eyes closed. "I'm sorry I didn't always hug and touch you whenever you were near me…maybe if I did…would you not have disappeared from my side Y/n? Are you gone because of me?" 

[faetreides]

going off your modern!coryo headcanons… i could imagine him getting really jealous when you are interacting with other men (even if it’s like a waiter or colleague) and he decides that he has to remind you who you belong to

No but fr he’s like this:

based on these hcs

send me coryo, luke, or anakin asks (this is a threat)

Coryo's all charming wide smiles because he's enjoying being able to spend time with his s/o until a male waiter comes to their table. He only takes you to the most upscale places in the city that, even if he has to fight you tooth and nail the whole way there. He will vomit in your new Marc Jacobs tote bag if you ask him to get you fettucine alfredo from Domino's one more time.

It's even worse if you're in a booth, because his hands will start to wander up your thigh until he's cupping your pussy through your panties under your skirt.

How fast his strokes are depends on how much he thinks the waiter's pushing it. He's had to call whatever restaurant you're going to ahead of time to ask that no male employees serve you. It slipped his mind this time, he won't make that mistake again. His internal evil monologue carries on as he spells out his name on your covered clit with his fingertips.

He’ll be across campus, and he swears that he can sense a guy trying to accompany you to class. His hairs on the back of his neck stand up and next thing you know, he’s standing like Slenderman behind you as he stares down the guy you’re with.

You have to awkwardly smile and tell the guy that you want your boyfriend to walk you to class instead to get Coryo to calm down. Even then, he's doing this corny gesture where he's slowly dragging his finger across his neck as the guy walks away.

His person suit is back in place by the time you turn around to level him with an unimpressed look.

"Sorry about that, baby. I guess some idiots just don't know when to back the fuck off." He croons, slinging an arm low across your waist and digging into your hip to self soothe.

He really wants to slap your ass as you walk through the door to your class when he notices that same guy looking over at you.

You manage to be quicker than his palm. Your butt under your pants is already a light pink from this morning.

Coryo always gets his coffee from his fleet of coffee machines that comprise his specially made coffee bar (that he made for you because the first time he ever saw you was when you were getting coffee at the campus coffee shop that you work at). However, he never fails to stop by your work on your break (he knows your schedule by heart, but he still wants you to text him as soon as you're available).

One of your male coworkers prepares his order while he talks with you. He doesn't think he's imagining the way your colleague's teeth are grinding together and how his eyes narrow every time his eyes flick towards your boyfriend.

Coryo has the steadiest hands in the world, they never do anything he doesn't want them to. That doesn't stop him from blaming the hot coffee soaking your coworker's uniform on him being shaky.

"Oops! My nerves are shit, I guess. Do you need a few bucks to for your shirt?"

He doesn't mean it.

None of that was as bad as three months ago. You and your boyfriend don't share many classes together but the ones you do are hard to focus in.

It happened in your Age of Augustus Latin class. You and Coryo usually sit together (for easy access) but you were unusually late coming back from the bathroom. Most of the seats were full and the only available ones were far apart from each other. Neither of you were pleased but you couldn't change it.

The boy next to you was a brunette that you guessed was on some kind of sports team due to his jersey that he hadn't changed out of. You didn't pay him any attention (you could feel the eyes burning holes into the side of your head) and leaned back as you listened to the lecture.

Halfway through the lecture, an arm was laid on the back on your chair with a yawn.

You could hear a pencil snapping in the near distance.

You shrugged the arm away and that only made the boy pop your personal space bubble to whisper in your ear, "Can I borrow a pencil?"

You shoved a spare one into his chest and turned your attention back to your professor.

The class went by with more ambiguous actions. You knew it was over when heavy footsteps were followed by a familiar hand wrapping around your forearm.

The drive to your apartment was a blur. Coryo's rings made impressions in your thigh as he ran several red lights. He told you that he didn't really care about that right now, his dad would take care of any ticket he'd get anyway.

Sooner rather than later you found yourself face down ass up in the king-sized bed you shared with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend whose face was buried deep in your ass cheeks. He had them pulled apart so he could tongue your hole properly, pulling back to spit on it and smear his saliva around your rim. He wiggles the tip of his tongue around your walls before tongue fucking you like your asshole was the only hole he knew you had.

He gasped as he pulled away again to breathe, jiggling the massive globes of flesh in his big hands. He opened his mouth wide and let more spit drip from his tongue onto your winking hole.

"Damn, baby..." He breathed, jiggling your cheeks again and then doubling down on the marks he made earlier.

His palm felt warm as he reared it back and spanked your crack, "You think just any motherfucker would know what to do with this ass? You think they'd make out with your asshole like they'd try to do with your pussy?"

You couldn't speak through your moan as he thrusted one of his thumbs into your hole.

"You're so right, petal. No, they wouldn't." He said and took his thumb away from you, patting your butt when you whined at the loss, "So why don't you get up and come sit on my face?"

Your boyfriend was all laid out for you like a four coarse meal, shirt already discarded and his pants unbuttoned. He tapped his nose bridge and grinned with too many teeth, brushing aside the curls that fell over his eyes.

"Right here."

[taurder]

Dom male reader x will graham with breeding and exhibitionism kink. 😻😻

Also can i be "🐗" anon??

top!dom!reader x bottom!will graham (hannibal nbc)

contains: breeding kink, exhibitionism kink, lots of swearing, anal (character receiving), implied fbi teacher reader and will.

note: my first request ever, thank you! and i hope i write something you'll enjoy. feel free to ask for more, cause now you're my first anon and I'm a fan of the emoji you picked.

he had been asked to help in another outgoing case, you could tell by the amout of his classes that you had to fill in for. another good indicator of this was his mood. he'll become snappier if approached, grumpy when a conversation with another colleague would become too casual for his liking. but mostly he'd get horny. down bad looking for you in between breaks and shoving you in any room available to climb you like a tree and get you inside him horny.

maybe it was his way of letting go of all this feelings and thoughts inside his head when he was at a murder scene. when your dick was deep inside of him you could tell his mind was empty, his presence entirely here, enjoying every physical pleasure that you could provide him with.

"could you maybe get in any time today?" always desperate, like he was in a rush. you ignored his mean tone, enjoying instead of the view that came from undoing every button of his shirt. his jeans were already out of the way on the floor, poor needy thing had pushed you into one small classroom designed for fewer agents, already biting and provoking, demanding for your touch as you closed the door.

the lock didn't worked on this one, and you voiced this concern knowing well how much he liked the idea of being caught. it was obvious from other encounters and his choice of places that a part of him was thrilled every time you mentioned the sound of someone coming near the door, of another class in the next auditorium and today was no different. even as you touched and gripped at his now exposed torso his eyes wandered to the door, pupils blown and you could picture the view you two made.

clothing in the floor, teacher and special agent will graham up in the desk with you between his legs. you jerked his cock a couple times, making him whimper and frown. "just fuck me already" another demand that you intended to ignore as well but then he reached with a hand to his ass, moaning with eyes closed as he pulled a small butt plug from his hole. the sound was wet and lewd and you unconsciously pressed your thumb there, confirming what the sound made you think. "i– i already prepared everything. shit, i'm so wet you could probably shove it just like that. c'mon"

he had filled himself with as much lube as he could, putting the plug to keep himself from dripping in the corridors, at the places he probably visited to investigate the newest serial killer pattern. all while being stuffed and ready to be fucked. you guess even if he's a demanding piece of shit you have to give credit to his pretty face and initiative, and so you push your whole thumb without a warning first.

"FUCK. no, no, want you– mghh.. your cock" he really craved it, he was almost at the point you loved the most, when he starts sounding really needy. you fuck him with your finger a little more, adoring his squirming frame and already sweaty face. "your cock, your cock" he won't say please, he has already told you this before, so the whiney almost crying like tone you get from him is close enough and you pull your thumb out, watching him already hooking his feet at your back while you guide your dick right in.

And just like he said it's really not much resistance, but enough so to make him wail and moan, louder than he should given the place you're both in, but he's too far gone. as he adjusts to the fullness he goes down to properly lay in the desk, one hand taking his own member, the other grabbing an edge to keep his body from jumping away from you when you start thrusting. "fucking finally. yeah, yeah, like that, yesyes mgghh" a sudden rush of air from the top small windows is enough to make the door move slightly, sounding as if someone was gently pushing it.

will's body jerks at this, and you can clearly see how he squeezes his dick to keep himself from coming, but the movement makes his walls hug tigh your into your length, inviting you to improve your rhythm. you hold his hips, hearing the desk legs squeak against the floor from the movement that proceeds. you thrust into graham hard and fast, seeing his sweat accumulate in his forehead and even the skin in his torso glistening. his mouth is open, murmuring swears as his eyes cross out up his empty head.

this is why he needs you, to reach this state. and as your climax feels near you're reminded of the second thing he needs you for. you hit his prostate, and it's the signal he takes as to guess you're near. "inssss-ide" he whispers, slurring, as he always does at this point. he repeats the word, fearing you could ever forget what he needs to properly cum with you. even as his mind is gone his words come back suddenly, needy. "say it, 'mm-close, so close. keep it in, inside"

you're near too, and as you abuse his prostate with erratic thrusts the words he wants to hear pour out. "you want my cum inside, yes? want to get knocked out, don't you?" he keens, brows together and his right hand working again in his dick. "you think i'm reaching your womb now? i'll fill it up so much you'll be carrying more than one baby" more moans, his body tensing up and toes curling. "here it goes" is your only warning before you give a last deep shove, and even if you're enjoying to finally let go you can tell he's more thrilled.

his body seizes and he throws his head up as your hot seed fills up his insides. even if your thrusting has stopped he's tightening his ass, his dick left forgotten in his abdomen as white ropes paint his sweaty skin. "that's it, milk my cock. don't let any drop go to waste". he shudders, clearly not expecting to hear your voice again but he complies, riding his climax while getting filled. when it's too much for either of you, you pull out slowly, using your fingers to stop your seed from escaping his used hole. he hands you the butt plug and once again he's stuffed.

he doesn't say thank you, he has told you that in the past too, but he does bite into your shoulder when you help him sit down in the desk, his breathing still agitated. you don't see eye to eye as you both fix your clothing or clean the space, but there's a mutual understanding that this will keep happening, and you can't wait for the next session.

[russellsppttemplates]

Breathe for me (Pierre Gasly)

Y/N's anxiety has been building throughout the week and it finally crumbled down

Note: english is not my first language. As you maybe know by now, talking about these subjects is a big responsibility for me, but I always hope that I've represented it well enough. It is different for different people, so what I have here is a possible scenario and not the only scenario.

Tags: @myloverjk-blog

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's anxiety symptoms which build up to an anxiety attack

You and Pierre had been invited to join his friends for dinner, and while you thought you were better from last night, things were showing otherwise. Walking around with your skirt unzipped, you tapped your tummy in hopes that the nervous feeling would settle once for all.

Things had felt off throughout the wholr day, it just hadn't been feeling right. And, quite honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to go and sit through a dinner, pretending you were fully composed when, deep down, your mind kept racing and you couldn't shut it off.

It wasn't because of the company, after all, you had known them for a good while and even felt comfortable around them to the point where admitting what was going on wouldn't be an issue, but right now, Pierre seemed to be the only person you could be with and not feel overwhelmed.

"Amour, do you need- hey, are you feeling okay?", Pierre asked, noticing your nervous stance as you paced around the bedroom, "hey, talk to me, please", he asked, stopping you on your tracks and holding you in place as softly as he could.

"I don't know if I can go. I'm not feeling very well, so I think it's best if you go and I stay", you said, genuinely wanting him to go and have a good time, knowing you wouldn't be the best company right now and that this particular group of friends hadn't been together at the same place in quite some time.

Pushing you to sit on the bed and sitting next to you, Pierre laced his fingers in yours while making sure you were looking at him and taking in every word he said, "hey, we don't need to go. I can call them and tell them we can't make it, they'll understand", he offered, "I want you to be okay, no matter what", he said, "but you can go, I'll just stay here. You haven't seen them in a while and you don't need when you will all have the opportunity to get together again", you said. Finding today to be the date where everyone was available had been enough of a struggle.

"I'm not leaving you feeling like this. I'm staying", Pierre said, grabbing comfier clothes from the wardrobe and helping you undress, "we are going to have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he asked.

After changing into comfortable clothes, you and Pierre stayed tucked in bed after he texted his friends, his arms protectively around you as you managed to relax a little bit, happy to stay in his embrace while he read a book with you.

.

"Do you think we can get that done until Friday?", one of your colleagues asked, "the client needs it for their meeting, apparently he's having dinner with the investors", she rolled her eyes.

"I think I can, but they should really stop and think about doing these things in such a rushed way, I mean, it's not the first time we're almost running against the clock", you reasoned back, booking another meeting with her to sort out the last final details before handing the project in.

The uneasiness feeling that had been with you since you woke up was not sitting right, so when you logged off your laptop, you decided that working out would be a good distraction and allow you to forget about it.

"Are you heading for a run?", Pierre asked you as he walked inside the bedroom, seeing you put on your sports bra, "I was planning on doing some yoga, maybe go for a walk after", you said, watching him walk over to the drawer where he kept his workout clothes, "do you mind if I joing you? I promise I won't utter a word", he smirked, kissing your cheek and changing from his day clothes.

You and Pierre arranged the room so you could lay the mats, pressing play on the video and doing your best to mimick the moves and positions the young woman was going on the screen. You weren't an expert by all means, but exercise had always been a good escape when you felt overwhelmed, and having Pierre with you, even if you weren't talking or touching, made you feel his support and attentiveness.

"Still up for that walk?", he asked as he handed you your bottle of water, "yes, I think so", you smiled.

Walking on that park had become a common thing for you, being almost able to walk with your eyes closed from how many times you had been there, "are you feeling better now?", Pierre asked.

By now, he had noticed your patterns and preferences, so it wasn't too hard for him to notice that your day hadn't been the best, "yes, thank you for joining me. I know you know you don't need to, but I'm happy you did", you sighed, "my deadline just became a lot more real, so I need to hurry. But I'm also aware I can't do much if I'm worried, so here I am, trying to shush the worry away, at least for a bit", you explained, feeling your boyfriend squeeze your hand in his, "you did well, amour".

.

Work was finally over, you had handed in your project and you thought it would make you feel at ease, that it would allow you to finally feel a little bit lighter, but it didn't. Your thoughts were still spiralling, and they didn't seem like they were on the way to settling down. Your legs started to feel tingly, and you didn't trust them to stay up, so you sat on the living room floor with your back against the sofa, letting your body feel the softness of the rug while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.

You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you heard a noise far away, approaching quickly as you could make out your name in what the person was saying.

"Amour, Y/N, hey...! Breathe for me, yeah?", said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, feeling Pierre's hand coming to hold your own, the feel of his fingers very faint as you struggled in regulating your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, amour. Everything is fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something you had mentioned before that always calmed you.

Encouraging you to breathe with him, you finally got up to his rhythm, looking up to his eyes and despite the worry in them, you also saw the calm that comes after the storm has passed. How it all seems too much, it bursts, and then you're just left with the aftermath.

"There you go, that's good, good, just like that", he said, sitting on the floor and sitting on your side so he could pull your body against his, seeing you were struggling to hold yourself upright.

You stood there a couple of minutes, your eyes closing for a little bit before you croaked a few words out, "can we go to the sofa, please?", feeling his arms go around your back and under your knees, swiftly pulling you against him and getting up from his spot, walking to the sofa and cuddling there with you, brushing your hair with his fingers.

"Do you want some water? A snack perhaps", he advised, "I'm just a little tired, but thanks", you smiled weakly, "you're alright, ma belle, take all the time you need".

You must have fallen asleep on your boyfriend's chest, because when you woke up he was still there, but the window was no longer letting sunlight in and rather moonlight, the TV was on what looked like the evening news and you could feel a blanket covering you and Pierre.

"Hey, you", he whispered, kissing your forehead as he helped you sit up straight, "are you feeling better? A little more rested?", he asked, brushing the hairs away from your eyes, "yes, I am", you smiled, "thank you".

"Those hadn't happened in a while", he pointed out, "yes, it had been a while. I've been able to manage it, but it just crumbled today, before I could get it together, it's just crumbled", you explained

"That's okay, it happens, amour. You're still very strong to have managed ti well, I'm proud of you", he said honestly. Pierre always made you feel safe and never once judged you, instead always wanting to learn how to help you when you needed him and how he could make things better for you. So he wasn't lying when he said he was proud of you and how far you had come.

"My throat is a bit dry", you said, getting up and being followed by Pierre to the kitchen, sipping on the water as he grabbed something to snack on, "do you want some food?", he asked, "no, I'm good", you stated.

"What happened that got you to have the attack?", he wondered, "I handed in my project today. It had been building the last few days, and I was so sure they would be gone by the time I submitted it", you shrugged your shoulders, "now I know what to expect", you smiled, wanting to comfort Pierre and erase the crease between his eyebrows.

"Do you want to go and watch a movie? There's a new Disney one I haven't seen yet", he changed the subject, having gotten the information he needed and looking for a distraction, "Lead the way, handsome".

[kneelingshadowsalome]

OK, I know you just re-opened ur asks (but please take a break if you need it!!) But the thought of Girl dad König has plagued my mind ever since that one post.

He's super protective. He's one of those "you're not dating until you're 35" or "I know how boys are like. They only want you for one thing," dads 🙄.

Any boy his daughter manages to bring around will only be threatened. König will accidentally drop one of the largest knives from his collection right in front of her boyfriend and be like "oops🙂".

Speaking of knives, all of his weapons will be stored away once his daughter is born. He doesn't want to risk her finding them and hurting herself.

Gosh. Girl dad!König is every fuckboy’s nightmare!

Manages to chase away even the good guys, every boy his daughter braves to bring home is a no-go for him. A bunch of losers and wankers, all of them, and after his pretty girl! Psh.

You could be kinder than Tom Hiddleston and you still wouldn’t be considered worthy of dating König’s daughter. Every candidate is sent home with their tail between their legs after an awkward, cold family dinner and a bunch of questions that feel like an interview. Or an interrogation... You desperately try to treat these boys with some level of respect, curiosity and warmth – to be honest they appear far more gentle and emotionally available than, ahem, certain someone you dated back in the day when he was not yet a Colonel.

And the father-daughter relationship is fucked up in more ways than one, because König tries to fix his emotional issues and the fact that he’s away most of the time by getting his daughter anything she needs. She wants to try ballet when she’s six? She gets the cutest pink princess tutu skirt and pointe shoes money can buy. Oh, now she’s into horseback riding? Suddenly she has private lessons with the best teacher in town, dons 500 e leather boots, a nice little riding crop and a test winner helmet + gets anything else she can dream of when tending to the horses. (You had to actively stop König from buying her a horse when she was 10)

Cello classes, gaming PC’s, downhill ski equipment, expensive yoga retreats – daddy's girl gets it all because König has to spoil her to bits. Not that he actively tries to carve out a brat of her by this princess treatment: he just wants his girl to have access to anything she wants. His Vögelchen is so talented in everything she picks up!

König shows pics of his daughter to his colleagues: look, she learned to swim when they were on vacation in Maldives! And look, here she won the local stable’s jumping competition, isn't she amazing? Now she’s into archery, and has her own recurve bow, but lately she’s started to get interested in boys, and you know what that means… Curfews, screen time and more chores! And NO BOYS.

She’s “only” 19, and comes home drunk once, brought by some young clown who, in König’s mind, tries to evade responsibility by giving him a sob story about how he only wanted to bring his daughter home because he was worried about her and well, actually, he’s in love with her… She’s a good girl and he wants to take care of her, he really appreciates her and blablabla, König is not impressed. That boy gets himself an earful as a reward, he's lucky König doesn’t slam a knife on the hood of that car.

(....No one has the courage to tell dad König that her daughter likes to smoke weed with the bad boys and dates some older biker guy from big city :”)

[kitkatscabinet]

Whumptober - 04: Kidnapped

John Price x gn! reader

Warnings: murder, mention of torture. Kind of strayed a little from the prompt I feel

It's pure luck that you notice, headphones catching on your laundry and pulling them from your ears just as the door bursts open. You know John isn't supposed to be home yet, not for a few more weeks. Freezing for a few seconds you strain your ears, already dialling John's number as you make out masculine voices from the foyer.

The confirmation that, yes, people have just broken into your house snaps your body into action. You lock the bathroom door from the inside then close it, running as quickly and quietly as you can to the bedroom.

The call goes to voicemail and you internally swear, dialling him once more. Again you don't get through and you try not to fume at John for working when you're about to be killed. There’s no point calling the police, they won’t arrive in time, you just want to hear your husband's voice one last time. 

You work your way through his coworker's numbers before surprisingly, it's Simon who answers. He doesn't even get a second to speak before you're hissing at him.

“There’s Russians in my house!” If your life weren’t in mortal peril you’d probably have laughed at the usually collected man’s brief moment of panic. “At least two” You’re already answering his unasked question, years of being John’s partner leaving you slightly more prepared than the average civilian. 

Whilst you're listening to Simon on the other hand of the line you've managed to rifle through the bedside drawer until you pull out a long serrated blade.

A knife meant you had to get close, but it was quiet, and far more readily available than the gun. Closing the drawer quietly, you rush back to the door. However, instead of closing it, you keep it open, hiding behind the wood and waiting for an opportunity.

You white knuckle the handle, trying to stop your body from shaking as the sound of the bathroom break-in attempt filters down the hallway.

You barely register that it’s John in your ear now over the blood roaring in your ears, a mix of adrenaline and terror leaving you shaking. He’s asking questions, barely concealed panic tinging his every word, but you’re far too scared to answer in case you’re heard. 

Heavy boots thud against the floor as an irritated voice filters through the hallway, one of the men is coming closer and it takes everything in you not to cry as John assures you that help is on the way and will be there soon. 

You both know that’s a lie.  

He’s out of the country, and even if his colleagues can contact the police it will likely be far too late. You want to tell him you love him, want to wax lyrical on how he’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. At this moment you have so many regrets, so many unvoiced thoughts that you can’t verbalise because it will give you away. 

The door you’re hiding behind creaks slightly as it’s pushed further open and silently you slide sideways to avoid acting as a human doorstop. You see a broad back, and in a stroke of luck, there’s no tactical gear to protect any vital points. Likely in an attempt at anonymity, but it doesn’t matter, you know to go for the throat. He walks towards the closed closet doors, smug triumph in his voice as he thinks he’s found you. 

You step towards him as quickly and quietly as possible. As you get within striking distance he turns, but unfortunately for him, you’ve already built up momentum and are witness to the surprise on his face as the serrated blade slices through the skin of his neck like butter. 

You know better than to stab, you don’t possess the strength, the downside though, is the torrential spray of blood that gushes from the violently slit throat. 

His blood covers you as the man makes guttural choking noises, unable to do anything else with his ruined vocal cords. John’s screaming on the other end of the phone, demanding to know what’s happened but you’ve frozen in shock. 

Those few frozen seconds prove to be your downfall, you’ve forgotten there are two assailants, and the other man has busted down the door of the bathroom and found it empty already. 

“Drop the knife!” It’s a command, and after looking up at the furious Russian man aiming a gun at you, it’s one you quickly follow. A whimper escapes you, frightened tears finally pouring down your cheeks as you await your death. 

John’s still begging you to answer him and with courage you didn't know you possessed you manage to whisper one last ‘I love you’ before your phone is grabbed and crushed beneath the man’s heel. 

“Sorry ‘bout this.” The man sneers and you barely have the time to think that he doesn’t look or sound very sorry before the butt of his gun meets your temple and the world goes black. 

From the moment Simon had burst into the room interrupting his meeting with Lawell, phone in hand and panic in his widened eyes John knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. 

He’s up from his chair so quickly that it falls over, and barking at Simon to update him in on the situation. The phone is snatched from his lieutenant's grip and placed against his ear as he tries to get you to respond. 

He hears your shaky breaths and some vaguely angry shouting in the background but you never respond. He hears your fear, hears the telltale gurgles of a dying man but his heart doesn’t stop until he hears those three words. 

There’s a resigned finality to them and Price has tears in his eyes as he repeats the words in a desperate chant, unable to do anything more than listen as you scream and the line goes dead. 

He must’ve blacked out temporarily after that, because when he came to a few seconds later Simon was holding him up and the man’s phone was shattered into pieces on the other side of the room. 

It’s not until hours later that he gets an update. The police had arrived to find a man dead on the carpet of your bedroom, throat violently slit, but no sign of you. 

The following week was torture. He barely ate and didn't sleep until his body physically gave out. The boys were worried, and on more than one occasion he’d snapped. If it wasn’t for Simon’s interference he might have even hit Soap simply for trying to get his captain to rest. 

It’s another week before they finally get any news, and it comes in the form of a bloodied box containing a USB. Immediately John knows what it is and even as his men beg for him not to watch, even as the horror floods his veins and the bile fills his mouth he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the screen in front of him. 

You’re chained to a chair, soaking wet, bloody and shaking. He watches as a man runs a knife down your collarbone and you scream, crying and begging for John. 

It’s a warning. To back off, or you’ll die. 

The video cuts off with another one of your screams and a mocking accented voice letting John know that this is all his fault.

[andsoigotabutterfly]

-Freefall

Emma Myers x fem!famous!actress!reader

Summary: Wednesday Season two's filming starts, and Emma can't help but find a certain new college of hers very attractive.

a/n: Well this took a heckin' long time. Sorry, I just had to hide from my government because I accidentally stole state secrets. Only surfaced up so I could upload this. Hope you enjoy!

warning: little bit of angst, jelousy, little fluffy (is this even a warning?), bad writing, not proofread, english is still not my native language so sorry for any mistakes, famous reader, oblivious Emma AND reader

ler me know if I left something out!

“So, basically this is basically it. What do you think?”

Emma has been showing Jasmine around set all day. Even though early setbacks, they have been bonding and overall having a great time together. This season’s set was way bigger than the last, yet the layout was similar, so Emma knew her way around. Many of the staff were still being hired, thus, she volunteered to show new people around.

“Way bigger than what I expected!” the curly haired woman exclaimed. “And everyone is so nice! To be honest, I’m a bit overwhelmed…”

“That’s natural” Emma nodded. ”First when I got here last season, my head was spinning like crazy. You’ll get used to it.”

Jasmin’s mouth was still slightly hanging open, in an awestruck state. Then she mischievously smiled and looked over at Emma. She was gleaming, and even though Emma has only known her for three hours, she knew she wanted to ask something.

“Out with it” she smiled back.

“Is it true, that the Y/N is going to our colleague?”

Even the mention of your name was enough for Emma for her smile to grow bigger. The last couple years, you have burst onto scene, claiming every award you’ve been nominated for, and you deserved every one of them. Somehow every movie you’ve been in, it was as if you owned the scene. Some films got big just because of your acting, but you acted in some that were famous even before you got added to the cast.

Emma was entirely and utterly enthralled with you, and it wasn’t even an understatement. When she got word from Jenna, that she had asked you to be a part of Wednesday season two, and you said yes, she nearly fainted.

Jenna, as the co-producer of the new season, had pulled some strings and invited a lot of actors and actresses she has been working with in the past to be a part of Wednesday. Jasmin and you were almost the only ones, who’d been available, and would want to take part in the making of the new season.

Then she realized she needed to answer a question, and quickly nodded.

“Man, she is just simply great!” she said, and then continued her rant about you for five minutes, whilst the only thing Emma could do, was to nod along, whilst leading the woman to the director’s cabin. She couldn’t disagree with anything she said.

“I’ve also heard she might be your love interest…” Jasmin mischievously said, leaning in and grinning at the smaller woman.

“What? Wher- N- No that’s ridiculous” Emma stuttered. “I would neve-“ she got cut of by her companions’ intense laughter. She blinked in confusion, little scared. “What’s so funny?”

“I meant in the show!” Jasmin laughed out.

Emma mentally facepalmed herself, then smacked the other’s shoulder. Then realisation settled in her, as Jasmin’s words sank in. No. It couldn’t be… But that would mean, you. And her. Would have to. The thought made Emma unintentionally smile.

As the two continued their way towards Tim’s base of operations, conversation flew between them easily. Jasmin would not let go of the topic, and would retrial the chatter towards you, whenever Emma would try to change the subject. She had quickly found about Emma’s interest in you and would constantly tease her with it.

They didn’t even realise that they have reached their destination, until a loud shriek came from the trailer. “I would be her what?!”

The two looked at each other, and without a word, got closer as to hear what’s happening inside. Not a lot could be made out, but Emma could hear two people talking inside. She looked over to Jasmin, whose eyes were wide, a huge smile plastered on her face. Seeing her clueless partner, she whispered a quick “Let’s get inside” towards her, and before Emma could do something, dragged her inside.

“Jenna, I just can’t do that!” you said, your distress clearly audible in your voice. You had your back towards the new arrivals, not noticing them. “It’s not like when I did it with you, she is- I’m…” You didn’t finish the sentence, as Jenna signed the arrival of Emma and Jasmin.

“Sorry, to interrupt, but we finished our tour, and Emma here doesn’t really know where my trailer is, so we just came in to ask for help?” Jasmin said with too big of a smile to be telling the truth. Emma knew for a fact she was talking bullshit, as her trailer was one of the first places, she has shown to her. Yet all she could do was blink like fish, as you slowly turned on your heel towards them.

Emma felt like a mouse on the Mars; breathless and small. The Y/N was standing before her, sunglasses in hair, wearing a leather jacket with a white shirt underneath, black denims and combat boots completing your outfit. You were gorgeous, your sparkling eyes and light-brown, shoulder-blade length hair highlighting your face. If she could look away from you, she could have seen her friend throwing a knowing smile at her from across the room, but she couldn’t take her eyes of your perfect features.

“No problem at all” Jenna said reassuringly. “We were just discussing Y/N’s role as Enid’s love interest. Come, I’ll show you to your trailer. It’s so good to see you again! How was your flight?” she asked, like she didn’t just drop a bomb in the room.

You seemed to slightly flinch at her statement. Emma’s heart skipped a beat. Jasmin smiled and put an arm around Jenna, both leaving the room, leaving you and a breathless Emma inside.

After staring at each other for a while, you cleared your throat and greeted her. “Hi” your voice was uncertain, shy even. Not what she expected from you. “I’m- “

“Y/N, yes. Hi, I’m-“

“Emma” you gulped. “Yes. Huge fan here” you gestured at yourself, a weak smile appearing on your lips. Why did they have to be so full and red?

Emma’s heart fluttered at your words. “Really? Me too!” she smiled back. “I mean, of you. Not me, that would be a little egotistical, wouldn’t it? Hilarious even” she laughed to herself. “You’ve been amazing in Dune!”

You finally, genuinely smiled at the mention of the film. “Yeah, that was one of my favourites to shoot. I’ve read the books like a million times before, and when I got asked to play, there was no chance I would turn it down.”

“’He, who controls the spice controls the universe’” Emma quoted, with a deep voice imitating the books. “Shame this line didn’t make it into the movie…”

“Right?!” you exclaimed. “I was protesting for like three weeks for them to add it, but they denied me! It’s one of the most important quotes and they just cut it! I was outraged” you pouted.

Time flew by as you two raved about the movie and the books, but soon the subject changed to other interests of you and her. As it turned out, you played the drums, and were pretty good at it. After nagging you for a bit, you finally caved in and showed her some of the voice recording you made for yourself, and you really impressed her.

“Have you been shown around yet?” Emma asked, little more hopeful than what she wanted to admit to herself. “The majority of the staff is still being hired, so I volunteered to show new actors around.”

“Please, go ahead!” you smiled at her. “The moment I got here, Tim asked for me and Jenna to hold a meeting. Then he left me and her here, and that’s when you jumped us, so no, I haven’t been shown around yet.”

“Did Jenna say what the number of your trailer is?”

“Yes, I’m in number eleven.”

Oh god. “So, you’re the one who stole my number!” Emma exclaimed. “No worries, I’ll forgive you this once. Also, I’m in the trailer next to it, so we’ll be neighbours.” You beamed at her words. Without thinking, she put an arm around your shoulder as she started to lead you out, but the moment she noticed what she had done, the smaller girl retracked her hand. “Sorry! I’m just- “

“No need to apologize” you settled her. “I don’t mind.”

Emma just glared at you for a moment, butterflies erupting in her stomach at your words. Then she realized she was supposed to show you around, and started the tour once again, her hand finding it’s way back to your shoulder.

-------

It took less than a week to hire the staff, and for everyone to arrive at set. During this short duration Emma and you quickly grew closer, a deep friendship blossoming between you two. Daily banter and hanging out instantly became normal, as you two met up every day. Emma made sure to introduce you to everyone on set who arrived.

Not long after, shooting started and just as last time, it was hard. Everyone swiftly realized that these seven months are going to be just as demanding as the last eight, if not even more so. After the first two weeks, Emma already felt exhausted by work, her only consolation being the nights spent together with you. It became regular for you to come over to her place, and discuss what had happened that day, sometimes putting on a movie in the background.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she started falling. Not even lightly, but blindly and deeply stumbling into the pit that you resembled. Your tinkling laugh, making her laugh with you every time, your bright smile filling her world, giving purpose for waking up every day. The softest touch from you made her day, and they weren’t even rare.

Jasmin quickly caught on and started teasing her about it. With Jenna having to attend a lot of managing meetings they couldn’t meet that much, but the curly haired woman quickly filled the space left by her. She became one of Emma’s closest friends, beside you, of course.

As the weeks passed, the whole cast got back to its last year traditions; late night parties, getting drunk as hell, and blaring some music in the background. At first, you were glued to Emma’s side, but as time passed you slowly became comfortable with everyone around set.

“Spin!” everybody chanted, as Jasmin sat her phone back down behind her after she texted her ex that she misses her. “Spin! Spin! Spin!”

Two months into shooting Georgie was the one to hold the weekly party night. Once he has shown everyone around, the enjoyments started. Alcohol was quickly brought forth and everyone eased their minds.

Now you were comfortably sat beside Emma, raising your fist as you chanted with everyone. You were in an oversized black sweater, and shorts. Your eyes sparkled with joy, and you were gleaming with the night’s energy. Emma lowered her voice as she took you in, wanting to burn this memory into her brain. You couldn’t be more beautiful.

The crowd cheered as Jasmin spined the empty vodka bottle. As you did as well, Emma reevaluated her last thought; you were even more beautiful now. The glass clattered slower and slower, and soon, it stopped pointing at…

“Y/N!” Jasmin smiled mischievously, as if she was looking upon her pray. “Truth or dare?”

Emma could feel you stiffen beside her a little, but you quickly composed yourself, and looked back upon her, your eyes taunting her to do her worst. “Truth” you said, chin raised high.

“Is it true, you realised you aren’t straight after your kiss scene with Jenna?” she asked immediately after. Emma felt her heart clench, and her breath catch in her throat. She looked around the room, and saw the brunette blushing, whilst the others either chuckled or woo-d at the question. Wait, you weren’t straight?!

You narrowed your eyes at the other actress, then sighed in defeat. You took a shot before answering, that was laying beside you at the floor. “Yes” you admitted.

“Was it because-“

“One, question, miss” you cut her off, voice low as you grabbed the bottle and spun it. Everybody laughed. Except Emma.

She still couldn’t get over the fact you weren’t straight.

Yet a pesky thought took root in her brain. Did you have a thing for Jenna? You came out right after your movie with her made it into the theatres, and you haven’t dated anyone since. At least not publicly.

After a few rounds, the game came to an end. Everyone was either tired, drunk, or already asleep. There was no way, adequate work could be done the next day.

You and Emma stumbled to your trailer together, talking and laughing. Originally Jasmin and Hunter were also with you but had already made it to their trailer. The departing woman threw Emma a knowing smile and a wink when she left.

Even though your trailers were next to each other, Emma made sure to walk you the rest of the way. She watched you fumbling with your keys and open the door. She gave you a goodbye hug, and turned around to leave, when she felt your hand grab her.

“Nuh-uh! You’re staying here. Too dangerous for you to make it to your own” you said and tugged her inwards.

“Y/N” she laughed but complied to your pull. “Mine’s literally next door!”

“Don’t care.”

So, there she was, at your place not really knowing what to do. Usually by this time, you departed from one-another to make it to your own bed without collapsing on the floor.

“Isn’t it a bit too late for a movie?” she asked, when she saw you preparing popcorn. Oh, how she hated herself for asking this.

“You got somewhere to be?” you asked back jokingly and threw you the remote control. “Just pick something! I’ll be there in a sec.”

She did as she was told. As the movie started, she made herself comfortable at the end of the couch, leaving you space beside her. Yet, the movie didn’t really concern her that much, more the thoughts of you and Jenna. The internet was exploding with shipping you and her after the movie came out, and Emma couldn’t deny the chemistry that seemed between the two of you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked as you slumped down next to Emma on the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She ignored how this simple act of yours made butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“I-“ she started sheepishly, as a child caught during ice cream robbery. You weren’t helping either, with your cute, unwavering gaze. “Erm. Nothing really” she managed to say. You looked at her for a few more seconds, then turned to face the screen.

After a few minutes, you snuggled yourself into Emma, which made her breath get caught, and the butterflies return. She knew she was blushing too, and thanked the gods silently, that you couldn’t see her face.

“So, what’s up with you and Jasmin?” you asked, nonchalantly.

Emma furrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you two are very close, and she always makes you laugh…” you sounded unsure and hesitant, which was very new to Emma, coming from you.

“We’re just friends if that’s what you mean” she answered. To your nod, she felt like it was her time to ask, yet she felt like she wouldn’t like the answer. Her heart clenched at the thought. “What about you?” she asked anyway. “Do… you like anyone?”

You fell silent for a moment. Emma started panicking a little, thinking she crossed a line, until you spoke. “I’m just not sure if they like me back…” your voice was weak, and fearful.

Before she got a hold of herself, the next question rolled out. “Is it Jenna?” You stiffened in her hold, and she mentally facepalmed herself. Of course, it was Jenna. Who else would it be? She felt pain in her chest at the thought of you and her together, yet the thought of you being happy, lessened it. Even if only a little. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

You sit up so you can look at her, and she already misses the contact. There is something in your eyes she can’t decipher. But then you simply thank her and lean back into her. She feels strange. She feels bad. She knows she has no right for her heart to clench this painfully. Yet it does.

-----

“What’s with you?” Jasmin looked at Emma curiously.

She was playing her part perfectly, and the now blonde-haired woman had to admit; she looked pretty swell in the Nevermore uniform. Emma knew her lines, she had practised them all the night before, yet the words just wouldn’t come to her. She was just as distracted as Enid was in this scene if not even more so, and there was a good reason for it.

You were standing behind cover with Jenna, talking, laughing, and enjoying your time with her. Ever since the night where she figured out who you were crushing over, she had done a lot to help you. She ignored the part of her which violently wanted to stop her from doing so, but it got harder and harder. Her solution in the last couple weeks was to avoid you as much as possible. It got even harder when she would need to do her scenes with you, as shooting got to the part where Lilith and Enid, Lillith being the character you were playing, got closer and closer to one another. It wasn’t long until the kiss scene and Emma was freaking out.

It wasn’t like you didn’t notice her distancing herself from you, but Emma was just too scared to let you close again. She felt like, the moment you confront her, she would combust and confess everything immediately, so she did everything in her power, to avoid it, even if she knew it wouldn’t be possible for long. She got up earlier, to avoid you and even though it pained her more than anything, she cut of the movie nights and talking with you.

Yet now, as she was standing on set and you were off talking and enjoying yourself with Jenna, she couldn’t help but feel her stomach churning in uncomfortable and unpleasurable ways. She felt both guilty and helpless against it.

“Cut” Tim said a little disappointedly. “Emma, as she said” he continued as he pointed at Jasmin. “What’s whit you? You can’t concentrate, and we can’t shoot a goddamn scene with you.” It was true. She had been like this for almost three to four days now, but only became apparent now, as shooting got to the parts where she was in the main picture.

“Sorry, I’m just really over my head with a few things.”

“Take the day off” he said with a wave of his hand.

“No- But- I can do it, I promise!”

“It’s not that you can’t, it’s that I don’t want you to. You clearly need to sort things out.”

“But-” Emma started protesting, but Tim cut her off.

“Just go!”

Emma sighed in defeat and slumped out the scene. Now she had to deal with her thoughts about you. Great. Just great.

As Emma was walking out, she saw a glimpse of you and immediately changed her direction. She chose the back door exit instead and lengthened her steps. She felt you behind her, but before you could catch up to her, she was out.

Emma stayed in her trailer all day. She felt helpless against being this distracted, helpless against what you made her feel. She felt her heart clench every time you popped in her mind, which was almost constantly. The now familiar feeling of her stomach churning returned, and accompanied her all day, making her even more miserable.

Her absence didn’t go unnoticed. Jasmin, Hunter, Johnna, and Naomi all went to check up on her, but she sent them all away. She couldn’t deal with company right now. She didn’t want to break down before them which she felt impossibly close to.

Then sheknocked. “Hey, Emma” Jenna’s soft voice could be heard from the door. “Please let me in! I just want to talk.”

Emma’s heart clenched even more if that was possible. She hadn’t been nice with Jenna. Not that she was rude, but she avoided her even more than you. She loved Jenna, she really did, but the last couple weeks Emma wished she would just disappear. She knew she had no right to do so. She didn’t want to do so. Yet she did.

“Has someone done something wrong?” the brunette continued. Emma wanted to hug her so badly, tell her no, but she stopped herself. Why did she stop herself? “You’ve been distancing yourself from us and we miss you! I miss you…” her voice was now sorrowful. It broke Emma’s heart. “Have I done something? If-“

The older woman abruptly opened the door and pulled the startled woman into a hug. “No” she spoke, sounding a little scratchy. “It’s not you. It’s me.” Emma felt Jenna returning the hug.

“What’s with you?” the smaller woman asked softly as she stepped one step back.

“It’s-“ she started but forgot what she wanted to say the moment she saw someone behind Jenna. The moment she saw you. “Y/N” she breathed out unconsciously.

Jenna raised a brow. “Y/N?” she asked confused but wearing a smug smile. When she noticed Emma wasn’t paying attention to her anymore, she turned around and her smile grew even larger. “Oh, I see. Well, I’m going to leave you two some space, but don’t think you got out of explaining yourself Myers” she said jokingly and patted her friend’s shoulder. Before walking off, she threw a last smile towards the older actress, and whispered; “Go get her.”

Emma blinked in confusion a few times at the departing Jenna, but as you got closer she shifted her attention towards you. Suddenly, she became hyper aware of her surroundings; of how chilly the air was, how the gathering dark veil clouded the sky. Of how gorgeous you were.

She just stood there, rooted to the ground, speechless and gaping as you quickly got closer. Her back was against her trailer door, and the thought of reaching for the doorknob crossed her mind, but she was frozen in place.

“Emma” you said quietly, as if not believing the word that left your mouth.

“Y/N” Emma said again in a similar tone.

“I-“ you started shy, and unsure. “I wanted to apologize.”

Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “For what?”

“For being too much, for dumping all my mental problems on you, for…” and you just started ranting about all that you’ve done while pacing up and down before her. Emma disagreed with all your statements. You were never too much, your problems never bothered her. She was sure the rest was nonsense as well, but she couldn’t comprehend the words coming out of you. It got all faint as she took in your presence again, felt your smell again could hear your voice again. You were perfect. How could she have done what she had done? It all seemed so pointless, so stupid. How could she be so stupid?

She mindlessly grabbed your arm and stopped you in your tracks. You immediately shut up and looked at her, eyes full of hope and curiosity. Emma opened her mouth, then shut it. No words seemed good enough, worthy enough of you. As she was searching for words, her eyes locked with yours, and her breath caught in her throat. She felt she could spend all her life looking into the depths of them. She wouldn’t mind getting lost in them for all eternity if it would mean you were close to her.

“I’m falling for you.” There it was. She broke. When she recognized what she’d done, it was already too late. She said it out loud. Then she realised how close you were, your face only inches away from hers. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was the fool, I-“

Your lips shut her up. They were so soft, so perfect. More than what she could ever dream for. They tasted like cherry, a taste she could feel herself become addicted to. Her hands drew you closer, pressing your body against hers. The world seemed to disappear between the two of you as you lost yourselves in one-another. Nothing mattered. Just you, moving against her, movements fully synchronized.

“I’m falling for you too” you said and chuckled once you needed to come up for air. Your foreheads were pressed against each other, her hands caressing your cheek. “Damn it! I should have confessed before you.”

“Just shut up and kiss me again” Emma breathed out chuckling as well.

The kiss was interrupted by Jasmin’s voice from next to you. “If you lovebirds are done peppering, we have a smaller party today!” she said.

“Jesus don’t do that ever again!” Emma exclaimed. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me for it!” she grinned deviously. “Now chop-chop! Oh, I will also need the two of you to do that again before everyone.”

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“Well, my dear lovely future wife-of-my-bestie, I have to prove somehow, that half the cast owes me money, don’t I?”

“You betted on us?”

“Since dawn of time! Gawd, if I don’t send Y/N after Jenna, I would have slipped out of the time zone!” she then turned around and proceeded towards today’s party location. “I can’t believe I almost lost money because these two blind doves couldn’t find each other. Man, it sure as hell took them long…” her rant went on, but she fortunately got out of hearing distance.

You chuckled in Emma’s arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Should we help a fellow friend out?”

“I’m thinking we should let her lose.”

“You think you can stop yourself from kissing me every five minutes from now on?” you asked grinning.

Even though she knew you knew the answer, she replied. “No.”

[scientia-rex]

I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

I have a request :) tom kaulitz x female reader where she had a really bad day and he comes home from the studio and finds her crying, so they have really sweet comfort sex. Thank you<3

make you forget | tom kaulitz

warnings: degrading thoughts, panic attack

you sat down on your bed, lazily taking off your work clothes and putting on your pyjamas, a pair of shorts and a top. usually, this was your favourite part of the day after work.

coming home, taking a shower and changing before waiting for your boyfriend to come home. but today was different, you just wanted to go to sleep.

work had been terrible, your boss had been so hard on you and nothing you did seemed to get him satisfied. he praised your colleague and degraded you infront of her, embarrassing you even more.

you kept thinking about it as you did everything you liked, during the shower, the skincare, while you were making you and tom some food, that you ended up not even eating.

were you wasting your time doing this job? you loved it but it seemed like you weren’t appreciated enough and instead of making you feel good it made you suffer.

a loud sigh escaped from your lips as you brushed your hair infront of the mirror and before you knew, you had enough. you began to cry, placing one hand against your mouth to contain your sobs.

it was a cry of relief but also desperation, for every negative thoughts you had. you thought that you weren’t enough, that everything you did wasn’t worthy, that tom deserved better, someone just as famous as him maybe and not a simple girl who couldn’t get anything right.

your trembling body sat down on the bed, and you tried to calm yourself down but to no avail.

all of a sudden the door opened and a worried tom came in, “baby you’re here, i called you but you didn’t - hey, what’s wrong?”

he became even more worried at the sight of you having a literal panic attack. you were hyperventilating, looking at a point straight head, looking like you were about to faint.

“hey, hey y/n, don’t fucking play with me.” his voice was filled with fear as he rushed to the bed and took you in his arms, looking down at you with eyebrows furrowed.

your crying started again when your head touched his chest and he breathed out heavily, frustration taking over him. he didn’t want to see you sad, ever.

“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he said with a soft tone, stroking your back gently, but you shook your head.

“no it’s not! it’s not okay, i-i am nothing but a failure! i don’t even know why you love me at this point because i’m worth nothing.” you started rambling never making eye contact with him but he cut you off before you could continue, taking your face in his hands.

“what the fuck are you talking about? stop saying these things and just talk to me. what happened?” he wanted to know why you were so upset and talking down on yourself when usually you were always a positive person.

“m-my boss hates me. he told me how i can’t do anything he asks me for and how simply i should just quit. i’m just wasting my time, i’m doing nothing good with my life.” tears kept streaming down your face and your head started to hurt from the crying.

you went back to hide against his chest, almost ashamed of what you had said. he hugged you tighter, kissing the top of your head.

“baby, you know that’s not true. your boss is a fucking asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone and you really should quit but not because you’re not capable, but because you deserve better. you don’t need all this stress in your life, you’re amazing, smart, creative, you could have anything you want, don’t fucking say that shit again, okay? i don’t wanna heart it.” you let him comfort you, his words meaning the most to you. tom was literally the rock in your life, your home, your safe place.

“t-tom?” you called him after some minutes of silence.

“mh?” he hummed as he kept cuddling you, inhaling your sweet vanilla scent.

“can we…” you didn’t know how to ask. it felt wrong in that moment, after all that sad stuff you said, but you just needed to feel him and comfort you in the way you guys loved the most. tom seemed to catch on what you wanted to say immediately.

“are you sure?” he was ready to give you what you wanted.

you nodded, “please…” your pleading was enough to turn him on, “but be gentle…”

you made him understand that you didn’t want that rough sex you guys always had, you needed just a sweet moment, to feel loved.

tom nodded and carefully placed you on the bed, getting on top of you. he began kissing every inch of your body, from your neck to your thighs.

“you’re perfect.” he would whisper a compliment every time his lips met your skin. he quickly removed everything you were wearing, doing that also with his clothes. only the clothing of your underwear were separating your bodies.

he quickly turned you on your side, placing himself behind you.

you didn’t know what he was doing but let him be, not wanting to think about anything, just enjoying his touch.

you felt him remove his member out of his boxers, before he moved your panties aside. he proceeded to insert himself inside you, wrapping his arms protectively around you.

you struggled to breathe at the feeling, closing your eyes with a low moan. tom started thrusting in you slowly but passionately, kissing your neck and shoulder.

“i love you.” he whispered, his hand going down between your thighs so he could play with your clit and give you even more pleasure.

he wanted to make you forget everything that happened that day, even if that meant fucking you all night. not that he would complain.

“i-i love you too.” you mumbled rolling your eyes back with a much louder moan when his fingers added to the mix of pleasure. he knew your body, he knew where to go and touch to make you go crazy.

“touch yourself.” he ordered with a shaky breath as your walls wrapped around him so well.

you bit down your lip, kinda unsure of doing that infront of him, but he grabbed your hand and took it down to your core. he held that still there as you started moving your fingers, his gaze burning on you.

“so fucking hot.” tom let out a rough grunt, he never saw you doing that and in that moment he decided that he should make you do that more.

the hand that was touching you before moved to your breast, squeezing it as he breathe down your neck heavily. his hips were pressed against your back, making you feel every inch of him.

suddenly you felt him twice inside you and that took you to clench around him, a desperate, filthy noise seemingly to a cry escaping your parted lips.

tears began to stream down your face, the release you much needed almost arriving, not only physical but emotional.

“it’s okay baby, i know.” tom whispered when he heard you, kissing the side of your forehead, “come with me., sweet girl.”

your arched your back as you came with a choked up whine, feeling him release inside you with a low growl, his liquid coming down your thighs.

you both were panting, just laying there as tom kept on spooning you. your eyes were closed, salty tears on your face. he wiped them away before kissing your cheek.

you smiled softly taking his hand in yours, wanting to be as close to him as you could.

“are you okay?” he asked, still inside you. he kinda didn’t want to pull out.

“yes, thank you tom, i love you.” you let him know how greatful you were, even just for his presence.

“i love you too baby, you don’t need to thank me. and don’t worry, i’ll deal with your boss personally tomorrow.” he stroked your thigh, before covering both of your bodies with the bedsheet. you didn’t say anything, too tired to even realize what he said.

you noticed how he was still inside you and pressed your lips together. “uhm, t-tom…”

he knew what were you about to say. “i wanna sleep like this.”

you blushed letting out a squeal when he brought you closer to his chest, making him chuckle.

“it’s gonna be a looong night.” he sang out, before sighing and closing his eyes, both of you falling asleep peacefully.

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4

ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 4590

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4

Unconditional Violence.

Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.

You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.

You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.

It always does.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.

And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.

Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.

The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.

All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”

Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.

“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”

Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”

The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”

You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”

He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.

--

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.

There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.

But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.

Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.

So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.

You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.

“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”

All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.

Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.

You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.

Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.

On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.

Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.

“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.

Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.

Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.

Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.

Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.

Extroverted people.

Yeesh.

At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.

Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.

Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.

“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.

Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.

Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.

The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.

This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.

Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.

You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.

Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.

“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”

You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”

Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.

--

Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.

Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.

The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.

“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”

During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.

Looked like someone else was listening in too.

Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.

Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.

When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”

Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.

“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”

All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.

“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.

Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”

Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”

Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.

--

You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.

With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.

What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.

“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”

A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.

Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.

Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.

A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.

You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.

“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”

Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”

You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.

Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?

Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.

“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.

Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.

Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.

“Boudreaux.”

Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.

You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”

Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!”  he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.

Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.

Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”

You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”

The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”

Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.

“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.

You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.

“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”

Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.

The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.

“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”

Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

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[milktei]

When you write angst/fluff one shots, I love how you indulge more with your character's feelings and not just straight up jumping to the good part where everything's alright. Specifically during "Again" and "Fine". Would you mind writing the same stuff but with a bit of hostile management of actions whilst in a disagreement with the reader? Will writing for Kuroo or Ushijima okay? ( I think you've taken a liking to Sakusa so I'm not sure if you want the first two captains.) Anyhow, I'm frankly talking about a bit of viol3nce. In this view, how would they speak up their mind and resolve the matter maturely?

Of course when you're available, thank you for your time:3

Love Sealed in Gold

Ushijima Wakatoshi x gn!Reader

Genre: Angst, tiny bit of hurt/comfort

Warnings: Violence (not towards reader), Possible oocness again. Not edited :P

The pace that i managed to get this out is surprising even to me :o But i had an idea the moment i read the ask!! Isn’t that crazy???

the fact that it’s obvious that sakusa is my fav is kinda embarrassing ngl HAHA BUT i just enjoy writing for haikyuu so don’t worry about requesting people i haven’t written on!

hope you enjoyed this anon! i couldn’t in good conscious add anymore “violence” than i did. what i wrote is really tiptoeing the line for me.

That being said anyone who reads this please don’t take this as me saying to forgive everyone who acts like Ushijima does in this, of course every situation is different but i don’t want it to seem like this is acceptable behaviour and something a person should have to deal with and accept. Violence is a scary and serious thing especially in a relationship so stay safe!

Anyways the idea of using Kintsugi as a metaphor in writing isn’t exactly new but i hope you guys enjoy my take on it and how i wrote it :)

The Japanese art of Kintsugi is a method of fixing broken pottery that has been popularized all over the world, romanticized even. Something about using the precious material that gold is (among other materials), to put something back together seems to tear into the hearts of people all over the world. So much so that companies even sell their own Kintsugi kits where you can break the provided pottery and put it back together yourself.

How ironic, to buy something only to break it and go through the tedious task of connecting all the broken pieces back together again.

Many hold the belief that kintsugi hold its own deeper meanings. Some say it shows that something breaking and being repaired shouldn’t be covered up, but instead embraced, as it is a part of that objects history.

A more pessimistic view on the subject could be the fact that no matter how beautiful the broken pottery looks, it will never be the same again.

As you stand looking at your boyfriend with only horror filling your body, you could only think about the same could be said for your relationship.

You knew from the get go that getting into a relationship with the Ushijima Wakatoshi was going to be a tough mountain to climb. Anyone from family, friends, colleagues, and even complete strangers had warned you of that fact.

From his personality, to his schedule and the demands that came with being a professional athlete; it seemed that everything was put against the two of you.

But he was the one to ask you out, to court you, the one who crossed the line from friends to potential lovers. That was something that no one could deny being surprised about.

Yes your boyfriend was intimidating, seemingly expressionless and emotionally constipated. But you loved him, and he loved you.

You could work around schedules, you understood why he works as hard as he does, and learning who he really was something that came with time.

As your relationship progressed you could really begin to see what kind of person he was, and how the most subtle changes in his demeanour could signal a change in mood.

But this behaviour was not subtle, it was pronounced, loud, it filled the entire room and made it difficult to breathe properly.

You could barely remember what you two were arguing about this time. Perhaps how you acted during a charity event? How he was running late to a date and didn’t text or call to let you know? it seemed to be a trend for you two in the last couple of weeks. Pick at every little thing one found less than pleasing and then getting mad when the other tried to defend themselves.

This cycle had been going on for far too long and both of you were tired of it, but at the same time too stubborn, too proud to admit defeat.

It was late, far too late for the both of you to be awake, it was far from an appropriate time for you two to be arguing at the volume you were, but whatever exhaustion either of you felt was smothered by a whirlwind of emotions and stubbornness.

Ushijima wiped a hand down his face in frustration from where he sat at the dinner table. Across the room you paced, ranting about your point in the argument that had only been going in circles at this point.

“I-it’s like you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore!” you exclaimed frantically.

A piercing glare was sent your way and it took everything in you to not shrink away from it.

He stood up, with his size, the action in itself felt extremely intimidating, but you felt the way he talked down on you much more severely.

To further articulate his words, a palm would slam down on the surface of the table, so hard that you could feel the vibration in the floor. Each slam was louder and each time you flinched.

His words grew harsher, louder, and more pointed with each sentence. The look of pure, searing anger and hatred on his face kept you frozen in your place.

The man in front of you was unrecognizable, the man in front of you was not the gentle giant you loved. If anything, he was exactly like how many people would describe him upon meeting him. If not worse.

His words, which had now become shouts swirled in your mind, your eyes began to sting as tears began to well in your eyes. All you could think about was how you wanted this to stop, how if only your body would listen to you and move so that you could begin to ask for forgiveness. How you would give anything right in that moment for him to stop yelling and to stop looking at you like you were dirt on his shoe.

Your prayers were soon answered by the sound of shattering ceramic.

The gasp you let out was visceral, uncontrollable, you couldn’t hold it back if you tried.

The fire in his eyes seemed to die out all at once, his gaze moved to his outstretched arm and he look at it as if it had a mind of its own.

His arms were his prized possession even if he never said it out loud, some would go as far to say that they were something to be celebrated. His arms that can hit a volleyball with the utmost precision, arms that brought him to victory and through loss. Strong arms that held you at night and provided you with a great amount of comfort some could only dream of.

Arms that now only served to fill your body with dread.

A vase, along with all its contents was shattered on the hardwood floor.

It had chipped the paint on the wall beside him where the impact initially happened, water that splattered the surface had begun dripping to the ground.

You both recognized the vase, how could you not?You had gone out together to buy it when he had brought you flowers for the first time and you had realized you had nothing to put them in. After moving in together, you used it as a center piece for your dining table.

How sad that an item so fragile and small could hold so much meaning, and that it now lay broken, it was almost as if it were mocking you.

The room was silent as the both of you stared at the scene before you. Minds reeling as you both tried to process the events that had just unfolded.

Ushijima had thrown the vase at the wall in a fit of anger.

“y/n-“

“Don’t”

You looked up at him and wondered if the conflicted emotions that flickered across his face mirrored your own.

You looked away and took a shaky breath. “An apology won’t fix it. You can’t throw and break something, especially not that, and just expect me to be able to hear and accept an apology, not now, not for this.”

His mouth snapped shut and the tension that filled the room was suffocating. Every time you glanced at the broken ceramic the urge to cry grew and grew.

You wrapped your arms around yourself and took a step back, “I’m…” You swallowed roughly as your voice cracked, “I’m going to the bedroom, you need to clean that up and it’s obvious that we need time to cool down.”

With one last glance at the scene, you turned on your heel and made your way towards your shared room, not seeing the look of anguish that Ushijima held on his face as the watched you leave his sight.

You softly closed the door behind you and as it clicked shut, the realization of what had just transpired fell upon you like waves during a storm.

Despite popular belief, Ushijima had never been an intentionally violent man. The only harm he had caused was on the court, where it wasn’t uncommon for athletes to get injured no matter how good or bad they played.

But tonight, he had no reason to do what he did, there was no excuse even if it was the nth argument of the week. The Ushijima you knew was emotionally intelligent enough to know that he did not have to go through the actions of picking up the vase and throwing it at the wall in order to let his anger be known. He did not need to do that to show you how angry you made him.

His anger had been shown all throughout the night. It was practically palpable.

Your legs shook underneath you as you tried to make it to your bed but your efforts were in vain, you crumpled to the cold hard floor, feeling like you were in pieces, much like the ceramic on the floor of your dining room.

You desperately tried to hold yourself together as you replayed the what had just unfolded again and again in your mind. Not understanding why you felt so conflicted.

Fear. You realized.

Fear is what you felt, refused to believe. How could you fear the one you loved?

And yet every part of your body rejected the idea of your boyfriend and urged you to be afraid of him. Afraid of the only man who could make you as happy as he did.

The man who was supposed to make you feel loved, protected, and safe was the same man that made you feel the complete opposite.

Your chest ached and you breathing quickened, now fully aware of the situation you found yourself in. You were afraid of your boyfriend and didn’t know what that meant for the future of you relationship.

He was- is all you ever want, you couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone but him, but how were you supposed to move on from this? You now knew how he could react in times of great anger, what if it only got worse from here?

It was then that you finally allowed yourself to cry. After all that had happened you didn’t know where your relationship stood.

It was only after a couple minutes that the door to the bedroom began to open ever so slightly, at a pace so slow you couldn’t even see or hear it through your sobs.

“y/n?” His voice managed to spit out. He was quiet, uncertain, he feared for what your reaction may be at him being there at that moment.

You didn’t respond to him but he knew that you knew he was there, even as sobs racked your body and you pressed a hand to your mouth in a feeble attempt to quiet them.

Slowly, as if not to startle a deer in the forest, Ushijima sank to the floor from where he stood. Keeping an eye on you as he sat down, angling himself so that he was looking at the far wall and you wouldn’t be forced to make eye contact if you could find it in yourself yourself to look up at him.

This was far from ideal to him. He wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms and bring you to bed, quiet your cries as he held you tight and told you that it would pass and by the morning it would be a thing of the past.

But he knew better. He knew that he was the reason for your tears and the last thing that you needed was for him to wrap his arms around you.

He was aware of your fear before you were. The horrified look you gave him would be something that would stay engrained in his mind for years to come.

He was only used to you looking at him with love and happiness in your eyes and he had managed to ruin that in one night.

“I know that you don’t want an apology right now.” Ushijima started, he looked down at his hands and clenched them together to prevent them from trembling. “But I just wanted to let you know that… I am fully aware of how unacceptable my actions were tonight, that was no way to take out my anger and I should know better than to display my anger in the way that I did.”

Your cries had stopped at this point but you still trembled, still it brought him the smallest amount of comfort knowing that you were likely listening to him now.

“You deserve better than my misplaced anger, and you have every right to be angry with me, to not want to even be in this room, in this house with me right now. If you wanted to leave-“

His breath hitched and he found himself looking down at the hands in his lap with disgust and sadness.

“If you wanted to leave right now I would understand, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on us, I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.”

Your head lifted ever so slightly and it gave him the confidence to keep going,

“I’ll get help, I’ll find other ways to channel my emotions. Along with that I’ll ask you for your feedback on how you think I’m doing, if what I’m doing makes me worthy of being with someone like you. It won’t start more fights I promise.”

He smiled at himself sadly “You seem to know me better than I know myself at times and that’s one of the reasons I fell in love you. I don’t think I could forgive myself for losing you if I didn’t put as much effort into trying as I could.”

The room was filled with silence once again as Ushijima finished talking. He sighed to himself. He hated this, he hated what he had done to you two, he hated that he was the reason for your tears and he hated that he was feeling completely helpless at the moment, and that you were well within your right to end everything, and there would be nothing he could do.

Your hand grazes his shoulder and he has to do a double take to ensure that you were there. Right at his side like you always had been for the years you had been dating.

Your smiled was coupled with sadness and exhaustion, and he couldn’t hold back the sound of surprise that left him as you wrapped your arms around him and let yourself press your weight into him.

He let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding and allowed his arms to finally reach for you, the next thing you knew, you were being pulled into his lap and he held your head close to his chest, you could hear his heart pounding and could feel his entire body tremble. He kissed the top of your head and let his head rest on top of yours. When he realized how instinctively he was acting, he froze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to act so suddenly I-“

You shushed the man and ran your stroked his arm soothingly in an attempt to calm him.

“I understand.”

Quiet filled the bedroom and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel oppressive, or hot with anger. It felt comfortable as it always should have.

Ushijima was the first to break the silence. “We’ll be okay y/n, right?”

The question was almost childish, naive, and ignorant of how many more questions would be raised answering it.

But it was purely Ushijima. Something that only Ushijima would ask in a time like this, he knew about the complexities, knew it would be hard to answer, but he asks anyways.

You ponder for a moment, knowing that no matter how you answered, there was still always the chance that everything could still turn out very differently that whatever you two could imagine.

“We’ll have to work towards it Toshi, and it might be a slow process, but from the bottom of my heart. I believe in us.”

Strong arms hug you tighter, filling you with that familiar warmth

“Thank you.”

Kintsugi is the art of repairing what was once broken by adding something precious to the mix. When used as a philosophy it encourages the acceptance of fragility, coming back from hardship stronger than before, and being proud of something imperfect.

Something that is repaired using this method will never look the same, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that it still holds a unique beauty to it and will continue to function, as long as it is done properly and handled with care.

[strrvnge]

This is a fic request, imagine dr strange x reader, he’s her dads best friend and they both have. A huge crush on each other for a very long time, he finally confesses in an agnsty way when she’s all I thought you cared about me, and it's a slow burn. THANK YOU I have been dreaming about this for nights 😭

I can't explain how much I love thisss!!! Also I'm sorry for taking so long to write this the last past months were kinda weird so... I hope you like this.

This is a bit different from your request, Stephen and reader are already secret dating

(note this request was my excuse to rewatch all too well, also Stephen's kinda an asshole in this)

So this is our table Stephen must be here any moment. Should we have a drink as we wait?"

Your father had been one of the best professors Columbia had ever seen, teaching there for over 20 years with numerous successful doctors being taught by him, one of them being Stephen Strange too.

In fact Stephen was one of your father’s all time favourite students and for a person as handful as your father that meant a lot. Since you were a teenager you could remember your father speaking of Stephen's accomplishments in family dinners, how great, how bright, how much potential he had. He was like the son he never had.

So even after he graduated due to his admiration for your father and your father's pride for him their relationship turned into a very strong friendship. And then you met him.

Of course both of you knew it was wrong. The age difference was one very obvious problem, the fact he went out for beers every friday with the father too but neither of you could deny the tension between you two.

So it started from shy smiles and lingering looks during dinners, to innocent touches in the little of your back and flirty remarks that to an outsider were just two friends teasing each other (the outsider being your father).

It was just flirting. What harm could it be? you thought

It was all innocent and fun until… it wasn't. The hand from the little of your back moved down to your waist, sometimes even turned into a soft squeeze. Nothing uncomfortable, yet nothing that was enough. You soon found yourself looking over your next illicit affair, dressing up in every dress and colour you knew complimented you, your heart ready to explode as you did so. You soon wanted more.

The problem was that you got it. Everything you asked for.

"Oh here he is" You quickly looked at the entrance of the restaurant and there he was. You couldn't help the little smile on your face. It had only been two days since you last saw him but you had already missed him. Always looking great and handsome and then she came in, took his hand and together approached your table.

"Happy birthday you old man!" Stephen hugged him "Sorry for being late. This is Dr Cristine Palmer"

"It's great to meet you,sir. Stephen has told me so much about you. I've read a lot of your work too. Big fan"

You knew she would come too. Your father said she was Stephen's date, Stephen said she was just a colleague. He needed a date for your father's birthday and "Christine is a very good friend that was available for the night. Nothing more" he had said and had kissed your forehead and you believed him.

"So Dr. Palmer, are you working a long time with Stephen?"

You could still feel his hand around you from your last get away weekend. His kisses down your neck, the hot sun in your face as you sat near the lake, the song you danced to in the kitchen could still be heard in the back of your head and if you focused hard enough you could still feel the overwhelming feeling you swore was love.

And despite that, she was sitting opposite of you. Bright like a rey of sunlight, successful, pretty, your father must already love her but most importantly so did Stephen. No matter how many times he denied it to you you couldn't shake off the feeling.

And there he was, sitting beside her, not ashamed or hiding his face. It made you wonder if that would ever be the case with you? If he would ever be as proud and happy to have you by his side,in restaurants and during walks, in family dinners and even in those dull charity events. Introduce you as something more than his friend’s daughter, as something more than a kid he had to drag along.

But then again perhaps things were better the way they were. A close and private relationship is always best even if they meant your friends and family don't even knowing, right?

Some boring conversations and introductions later the food had come and you sat quietly in your seat having lost all your appetite. No one had asked you a question in 45 minutes.

"So what are you studying?"

You looked at Christine quite confused as the whole table went silent waiting for your answer not having heard your voice for long time. You bit the inside of your cheek as Stephen took a sip of his drink and wrapped his hand around her shoulder looking at you too to speak.

As if he didnt know

And then he gave you a small smile

"I'm studying for a PhD in English Literature"

"Oh that's interesting"

"I had hundrwny different children become doctors but i couldn't get mine to do it’’ your father said with a bitter laugh yet loud enough for the whole table to hear his disappointment and you sighed.

"Technically you'll become a doctor too. Just the different kind one" Stephen smiled and Christine nodded sensing the tension.

She looked so pretty and relaxed it made you wonder if she knew what Stephen was doing last weekend, or perhaps for the past six months.

Actually he had developed quite a routine with you that sometimes had you asking yourself how no one had noticed your affair. Calling him every morning before your morning classes, sometimes even having lunch together, meeting you every friday night for your usual secret rendezvous on the other side of the city. You slept at his place, you ate at his place… it was only a couple weeks ago he was looking around apartments with you in New York, searching for somewhere nearby his place. It was only last weekend you ditched your friends for a little taste of him, a getaway weekend he planned just for the thrill of it. You had turned 25 in his arms for god’s sake.

.

"Well that was fun" Christine said to Stephen as you walked out of the restaurant.

Soon the dinner was over and while you tried hard not to overthink how comfortable another woman was with your boyfriend you were in a terrible mood.

"Yes it was" you looked over them and you almost wanted to throw up. You looked as she placed her hand on his shoulder, you looked as she kissed his cheek.

"Are you gonna head home, would you want me to call you a cab?" Your mother asked

"It's alright, I can walk her home" Stephen said and you looked up to him puzzled. "A friend of Christine is gonna pick her up so.."

"Thanks Stephen. Well goodnight" your father said and you started walking to your place.

"Your father was kinda harsh on you today" he finally spoke

"Isn't he always?" You murmured under your breath, your eyes pinned on each of your steps not daring to meet up with his eyes.

"Someone's moody"he said playfully trying to lighten up the mood.

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and turned to look at him for the first time.

Noticing the sadness on your face he halted, wrapping his hand around your waist to turn you around before quickly realising what he did and let you go. Biting your tongue to hold back the tears you looked at him, the look of betrayal and sadness all over your face.

"What's wrong baby?"

Your stomach felt like a knot, tying your insides so tightly you wanted to cry. You knew you probably just played around and it wasn't anything serious for you to be jealous but honestly you didn't know why it hurted so much watching him with another woman. You just couldn't take it.

"You can tell me" He talked sweetly and the concern in his voice almost made you smile. Sure he kissed her but it was you he walked home, your place he spent the nights to, it was you he cared about. And perhaps it didn't have to be official to make it real, perhaps being a secret made it even more special. Right?

Smiling you stepped closer, shortening the distance between you, before pulling him from the collar and kissed him deeply.,

In the end it didn't matter how many women he took out to dinners if he came back to you at night. He was yours.

"Y/N" he laughed uneasily, taking a step back, breaking the kiss.

"What?"You smiled, still a bit fuzzy from the kiss. He looked at you trying to find the right words before finally saying

"I think it might rain. We should walk a little bit faster," he said and started walking as if nothing had happened. Confused, you looked as he walked away, not understanding what had just happened.

"Y/N?" He called your name, noticing you had stood behind.

"I just kissed you and you talk about rain?" You said and he just stared at you waiting for you to quit it and start walking with him.

Instead you stood at your place stubbornly not moving an inch till he answered you. Taking a deep breath he took a few steps closer to you.

"Not in the street, there are people watching" he whispered as if he was talking about something bad.

"Well people we don't know"you said, firmly staying at your place, puzzled by his unusual behaviour.

Biting his inner lip, as he always did when stressed, he looked around quietly, not daring to look at you.

"say something"

"Come on dont do this"

"Do what? You are the one who doesn't want to kiss me"

"What do you want me to say?" He said angrily "I don't want people to see me making out with a kid Y/N. I have a career"

"A kid?"you laughed, looking at him with wide eyes, not believing what you had just heard. "A kid?" You repeated shocked "Was that what I am for you?" You asked, a sudden feeling of anger and betrayal creeping over you.

"Come on dont act like this. Let's go home" he sighed trying hard to avoid picking up a fight with you.

"No!" You exclaimed, taking a step back.

No you weren't going anywhere. How could he say such a thing? After you've been through together you were everything but a kid. "Why don't you want to kiss me? You kissed her"

"Christine is different" he said and then instantly regretted his words.

"Yes she is. Because she's supposed to be a friend whereas I-"

"You what?" He snapped, slowly getting tired of your act "What are you?" You stared at him in shock, your eyes welling up.

"Fuck" he muttered running his hand through his hair. He took a deep breath before sweetly taking your face into his hands.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he apologised, kissing your head but you flinched away. "Of course I want to kiss you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry"

"How could you say that?" You asked with a bitter laugh.

"I'm sorry" he said again but it wasn't enough. You hated how that made you feel. You weren't crazy, he didn't want to kiss you and you had to know why.

"I'm not a kid Stephen" you said now more serious, taking a step back to look at him.

"I know"

"Then why wont you kiss me?"

"Fuck Y/N why you have to do this!" He exclaimed and but you just stared at him.

"You kissed her" you murmured

"Don't get me wrong you're sweet and beautiful but none of this was serious and you know it" he said, his voice now low and gentle as if he was trying to explain something to a child. And perhaps he was, because you stared at him wide eyed trying to grasp each of his words, yet everything he said sounded so foreign in your ears.

"No I don't. We never talked about it, for me to know"

"We didn't talk about it because there wasn't anything to talk about." He explained, still not understanding why you were acting like that, his ignorance making you even more angry. "We both know it was -"

"What?! A one time thing?" You cut him off, defensively crossing your arms over your chest "Well don't get me wrong but it was more than one time Stephen"

You couldn't believe he thought of you as a child.

"This was never serious and you know it. Actually it's not just not serious it's wrong too" he finally said and you could swear your heart skipped a beat.

You took a couple steps back, looking anywhere but him, trying to hold back your tears.

"Perhaps if you were older" he said trying to soothe you but you just stayed silent.

"Do you like her?" You broke the silence and even in a city as alive as New York your words couldn't be more loud.

You didn't want him to answer that, too afraid of the answer. Yet you knew, somewhat hoped he would say just the thing you didn't want to hear.

"Y/N" his inability to look you in the eyes was enough of an answer.

"Do you like her, Stephen? Is that why you say this?"

"What no! Stop looking outside for the problem-"

"Oh you can say it. Say I'm the problem but don't deny that you love her"

"Love her?! Are you listening to yourself? We've just fucked a couple time, thats it" he said defensevily

"No Stephen no it's not just fucking. It's messages in the middle of the night, calls, parties, she is involved in every aspect of your life. And the worst thing isn't that you allow it, it's that you like it" you said now starting to get angry

"She's my friend and coworker"

"She's everywhere. Everywhere in your life and I'm nowhere"

"This is exactly why this can't work. You're so immature and needy"

"Why am I wrong? Where am I in your life? Who knows about me except for you? What the hell" you exclaimed looking at the other side.

"What the hell" you repeated now talking more to yourself.

You couldn't believe it after everything you've been through, everything you've done for him, all the lying to everyone you knew, the secrets you kept for him. How he let you all those months love and care for him, when he made you feel so special and sacred. What a fool you were.

"This is embarrassing" he said and you turned around and glared at him.

"You're so cruel Stephen. So cruel" you spat "I don't want to see you ever again"

[sgntr]

Adventure 6 - Coincidental Meeting

A while back, I attended a music festival. As at any music festival, I posted instagram stories. To my surprise, Sarah replied saying that she was at the music festival as well!

(For those new here, Sarah is a MILF colleague of mine. We first banged when I was an intern and she welcomed me back as a full timer by banging during my first company townhall)

She was there with her husband and a few of their friends.

When we arrived, Sarah was there to bring us in. My friends and I were just shocked at the amount of alcohol available because we are those poor asses that pre-drink somewhere else before going into the club kind. There were buckets of alcohol there and Sarah's husband came over and got us all to down a cup to start the night.

We were still a bit scared we had to split the bill so we did not go crazy. But after the husband assured us it was on him, my friends and I started drinking more and more like a bunch of shameless leaches. The husband just kept ordering when we finished.

Everyone soon got super drunk and some passed out (including the husband). I was still alright. So I sent Sarah and her husband back to their hotel and my friends went their separate ways.

When I reached the hotel, I was amazed at the room. They had a full suite with living room and everything. 5 of us were sharing one small room and sleeping in sleeping bags just to save money.

I carried the husband to the bed and was about to leave because I was tired. However, Sarah had other plans. She jumped on me and wanted to fuck right there on the same bed as her passed out husband. But I had some conscience and tbh a bit scared so I carried her out to the living room.

"Destroy me daddy. Every time i have sex with my hubby i will picture you fucking me." She said in a drunken voice on her knees while undoing my pants. I got instantly hard even though I was super tired.

She started sucking my dick and her boobs popped out of her skimpy clubbing outfit. She proceeded to put my dick between her huge tits and gave me a tit job. The feeling was amazing. This was my first time getting a tit job and I finally understand why people love it so much. She spat down her cleavage to continuously lubricate it.

Following that she pushed me onto the sofa and sat into my dick facing me and started riding. Sarah rode like a pro. Her boobs were bouncing all over the place and that got me even harder.

"Slap me daddy, play with my nipples! I want it rough. Don't be like my loser husband, scared of hurting me." she said out loud.

And well, since she said that, I had to oblige. I turned her over and got on top and started pounding her pussy hard missionary with her legs high up in the air. Her moans filled the room mixed with my groans. I followed that by choking her with one hand and the continuously slapping her tits alternating between left and right.

"You like that? fking slut. You like it when I abuse your tits?"

"mhmmm"

Slowly her tits got red with outlines of my hands on it. I pinched on her nipples and used it pull her in and out. I was on the edge and at the last moment i pulled out spraying my cum all over her face and body.

"Since you did not eat yesterday, breakfast is served"

We both were panting heavily as I went to the toilet to wash up. When I came out, Sarah KO-ed on the sofa with my cum still all over her. I was super tired but did not want to get in trouble so i wiped my cum off her face, stuffed her tits back into her clothes and covered her with a towel. Hopefully the stains can pass off as something else.

I didnt really wanna go back and squeeze with 5 guys in a small room. So i just went to the table to rest. The sun was rising and the husband seemed to be waking up. We exchanged greetings and I apologised for crashing at their room.

"Dont worry about it! Thank you for taking care of us old people hahaha. Crashing like that means we had a good night party. Did you have a good time?" He asked smiling at me. We conversed for a few minutes and he carried his wife to the bed so I could sleep on the sofa. What a thrilling night it was and boy did i have a good time.

Her outfit for the music festival: