#it feels like maybe this is my place. and these are my people

[formula-nyoom]

I'm Proud of You

Pairing: Platonic!Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: Being the youngest and newest driver to the grid is not an easy adjustment to make and it ends up taking a toll on you. Thankfully some of the other drivers on the grid are there to look out for you.

A/N: Was going to wait till Saturday to post this, but I had a shit day today so I decided to post it now. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

No one really knew what Mercedes was thinking when they announced that they were signing you, an F2 rookie who placed 6th in the Formula 2 Championship, as the one to take the 2nd Mercedes seat. Everyone expected you to be named a reserve driver, so that you could prepare for the jump to F1. Yet here you were, jumping straight into the deep end. Even after you heard the news that you would be racing in Formula One, you were left more with shock and confusion rather than excitement. 

Sure, you had done a couple of test drives for Mercedes and had participated in an F1 practice session or two, but you didn’t think that was enough to put you in contention for a Formula One seat. 

But the media thought otherwise, and so did Mercedes. 

Both your friends and family tried to reassure you that you were good enough to race in Formula One, and you had seen countless interviews of Toto Wolf saying that he had made the right decision in signing you.

But none of that could take away the fact that all eyes were now on you. 

The first female to race in Formula One, and now the youngest on the grid.

The season hadn’t even started and yet you felt like Atlas holding the world weight of pressure that was placed upon your shoulders. You now have something to prove. And everyone was waiting for you to either fly or fall.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find the courage to cross the turnstile that led into the paddock during the first race weekend of the season. Crossing over would make everything real. And you would be doing it alone, as both your family and your manager weren't able to get to the track till later in the day. 

“Did you forget your badge on the first day?” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Charles and Pierre.

 “You can just jump over the gate. Yuki does it all the time.” Pierre said. 

 “No, I have my badge…I’m just nervous to enter the paddock.” You said, motioning with your head to the turnstiles.

 “What makes you so nervous?” Charles asked.

“There’s a lot of people. And cameras. And people with cameras. I feel like I’m gonna get swarmed as soon as my foot crosses the entrance.” You said.

 “You’re not wrong. The media doesn’t really know the definition of personal space.” Charles said, taking a sip of his coffee. “If you want, I can act as a buffer and draw the attention away while Pierre helps you get past.”

 “Would that work? I just want to get to the Mercedes hospitality.”

“Oh trust me, the media loves Charles. They’ll be too focused on getting pictures of him to see us walk by.” Pierre said. You looked back at the people past the entrance and there seemed to be more than when you last looked. 

 “Well…if you’re sure it will work then we might as well try.” You said. Charles smiled and gave you a nod. He then took the sunglasses that were hanging on his hat and put them on before entering the paddock. Immediately, the people that had cameras flocked to Charles and started to take his picture as he tried to walk through the paddock. You and Pierre waited a couple moments to build enough distance between you and Charles before the two of you entered the paddock. You clutched the straps of your bag tightly, expecting the nearby paparazzi to turn around and immediately start taking pictures of you and Pierre, but they were too focused on Charles.  

Pierre’s hand hovered over your shoulder as he tried to block you from most of the cameras while guiding you through the paddock. While the two of you managed to pass Charles without getting noticed, you couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic, seeing Charles surrounded by so many people trying to take his picture. Eventually, you and Pierre managed to make it to the Mercedes hospitality building.

“Is it always going to be like this?” You asked Pierre.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Especially since you’re the newest on the grid. I recommend you invest in a good pair of sunglasses. But I’m proud of you for getting past your first swarm of paparazzi.” Pierre said, ruffling your hair. You laughed and swatted his hand away as Charles walked up to the two of you.

 “Whew! Thank god Lewis walked in. I felt like those reporters and paparazzi would never leave.” Charles said.

 “Sorry for making you go through that.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. 

“Pas de soucis. I’m used to it and know how to handle them. Though I will advise that you never enter the paddock by yourself. The reporters are like vultures.” Charles said. “Anyway, we will see you at the press conference, no?”

 “Yep. I’ll see you there.” You said. Charles patted your shoulder before him and Pierre headed to their own team's hospitality. 

~~~

You were beginning to hate the press conferences that you had to go to. Any question that was directed towards you involved your performance on track, or lack thereof as some reporters like to put it. You were getting tired of having to answer questions that made you feel like a failure.

“This question is for (Y/N). We’re now five races into the season and you’ve been continuously out qualified and out placed by your teammate, George? Is there a certain struggle that you’re having with the car that may be the cause of this?”

If you could walk away from this question, you would. But instead you stayed in your seat and picked up the microphone next to you. Damn Mercedes PR training.

 “There’s still some learning with the car. The engineers have said that the car isn’t up to the standards they want it to be, so I am struggling a bit on track.” You said, giving your best PR approved answer that you could manage.

“But would it be safe to say that you are under performing at Mercedes in comparison to your teammate?” The reporter asked. You tried to steal your expression and act like the comment didn’t bother you.

 “What kind of question is that?” It wasn’t you that asked it, but Lando, who was sitting to your right. You looked at him with some confusion. So did the reporter.

“Is there something you would like to add, Lando?”

“Yea. You can’t say she’s underperforming when she’s a rookie that has only completed five races.” Lando said, an upset expression clear on his face. The reporter cleared his throat.

 “I’m just saying, some have doubts that Mercedes were too hasty in signing an F2 rookie and I wanted to know if that was being reflected in (Y/N)’s driving.” The reporter said, trying to control the situation

 “I think we already know your opinion on Mercedes' decision based on the questions you ask.” Carlos said, who was sitting next to Lando. “I agree with Lando that it’s unfair to judge (Y/N) based on her first five races.”

 “I’d say she’s actually doing pretty good for a rookie, considering she’s been able to score points in two out of the 5 races she’s done so far.” Lando said.

 “Much more than you have ever done.” Carlos said to the reporter. You tried to hide the smile that was slowly forming on your face but inevitably failed as you picked your microphone back up.

“To my two fellow drivers points, I think you’re discounting me too early. I will admit that there is still a learning curve and with the continuous upgrades that Mercedes keeps bringing to the car, I am constantly having to adjust to all the new additions while also trying to get used to driving a Formula One car every other weekend.” You said, making direct eye contact with the reporter. “But I will eventually get used to the car. And when I do, I think I will be able to match George and possibly start out qualifying.”

That seemed to silence the reporter, as he sat back down. It also seemed to signify the end of the press conference as reporters started to pack their things and you and the other drivers sitting on the couch with you got up and left the room.

“Mate, I’m so proud of you and how you handled that reporter.” Lando said once you were out of the room. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.

 “I was ready to walk out of the press conference when I heard that question. Why do these reporters always have to compare me to George?”

 “Because that's what they do. All of us get compared to our teammates because our teammates are seen as our biggest competition.” Carlos said. “You’re gonna get it more because you’re new.”

“Just remember that you can refuse to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable.” Lando said. 

 “Even the sexist ones?” You asked. Carlos and Lando nodded their heads.

“Especially the sexist ones.” Carlos said.

 “Better yet, I’ll answer them for you in the most ridiculous manner so that way they’ll stop asking you questions like that.” Lando said, making you laugh.

~~~

So many more races. Too many races. How does a Formula One driver get through all these races and have a chance to calm down? You were used to things going fast, but lately you just wanted a chance to slow down and breathe. 

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in an empty VIP room, looking out the window at a mostly empty racetrack. Phone in hand. Staring at the clock that displayed the timezone back at home.

2:00AM. Your parents are definitely asleep right now. It’s not a good time to call them, no matter how much you want to. 

You were so focused on staring at your phone, you didn’t notice that Max had walked in.

“Sadly I don’t think drivers count as VIPs at the races they have to participate in.” Max said as he sat down next to you, a Redbull in his hand.

 “It’s the only place that I can find privacy and some peace and quiet.” You said still staring at your phone.

2:01AM.

You turned your phone off and let out a sigh, placing it down next to you.

 “Something the matter?” Max asked. You hesitated. You didn’t want to burden a 3-time World Champion with your upset thoughts, that was for your non-existent therapist. But then again, maybe talking to someone who has been in your position before may make you feel a bit better.

“I haven’t found a good time to call my parents since the start of the season.” You said. “They were able to make it to my first race, which was amazing. I was really glad they could come…but with so many races on the calendar, it’s hard for them to come to all of them, and all the changing time zones makes it hard to find a good time to call them.” You told him. “I miss talking to them.”

Max looked at you, took in how you were hugging your knees. Max sometimes forgets that you're now the youngest driver on the grid. On the track he sees you as competition, but now he sees you as the overwhelmed rookie that you looked like right now.

“I understand what you're feeling. It does get overwhelming a lot of times.” He said. You turned to him.

 “How do you deal with it?”

“No matter what country we are in, I try to find a day or time where I can get the farthest away from being a race car driver. A spot that’s farthest away from the track where I’m not “Max Verstappen, The Red Bull Driver”, but just “Max”.” He said.

 “Don’t you get recognized wherever you go?” You asked

“Absolutely. But being away from the track, even for an hour, makes me less overwhelmed. And in regards to wanting to talk to your parents, yes finding a time to communicate is hard, but sometimes you just have to throw timezones out the window and call your parents. Even if you can only talk to them for five minutes, it’s still five minutes that you get to talk to them.” Max explained. 

You thought about what Max said. It would make you feel a bit guilty, waking your parents up in the middle of the night just because you wanted to talk to them. But at the same time, sometimes they’re the only people that could make you feel better. You looked back down at your phone.

2:05 AM

You’d be ok with just five minutes.

 “I think I’m gonna call my parents.” You said to Max. He smiled and gave you a nod before standing up.

 “I’ll let you have your privacy. But my driver’s room is open if you want to talk about anything except racing.” Max said before leaving the room. You smiled at him before calling your parents.

~~~

Finally you had finished a race with what you thought was a good race result. P6 was your highest placement so far this season and it was something you should be proud of. But even if you thought it was a good result, you knew that people were going to comment that George had gotten P4, placing ahead of you again. To you, it felt like no matter how high you climbed up the grid, if George finished in front of you, your result wasn’t something to be proud of. 

You were knocked out of your thoughts by someone bumping your shoulder. It was Oscar walking alongside you. The fact that he was looking directly at you made you assume the bump was intentional to get your attention.

“Proud of you.” Oscar said. “This was just like that one season of Formula 2 we raced in together.”

You scoffed but smiled.

 “Yea, except I now have the knowledge not to shunt the car into the back of yours.” You said. You spent most of thid race chasing Oscar’s rear wing and were glad that you didn’t do what you had just said.

“That time was an accident. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Oscar said. The two of you stopped walking as you got closer to where the podium interviews were taking place. The two of you watched as Charles was getting interviewed about his winning result. 

“So am I gonna see you up on that podium this season?” Oscar asked. You didn’t want to shake your head, but your body acted on instinct. You have been shaking your head a lot these days.

 “That seems unlikely. I haven’t been able to match George’s pace at all and he keeps out qualifying me.” You said. Oscar looked at you confused.

 “What are you on about? You were only 2 seconds off George and that was only because I was in between the two of you.” He said. You sighed.

“Yea but it was still 2 seconds behind George. It doesn’t matter how much time is between the two of us, if I’m behind him that’s all the media is going to care about.” You said. “I’ll never have the pace to pass him.”

“Hey!” Oscar grabbed your shoulders so that you would face him. “You have the pace. You’ve been building it up this whole season. At the start you were what? 10 seconds behind him? Now you’re two. Soon there’s going to be no gap because you’ll be ahead of him at some point. It’s bound to happen.”

Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing down, or the fact that Oscar was saying something you had been wanting to hear from your race engineer, or your team princpal, or hell, even it’s something the media should be noticing: that you’re catching up and proving your pace. Oscar’s words were making you feel like you belonged on the grid.

 “You think so?” You asked, needing the confirmation. 

“I know so. Screw what everyone else says.” Oscar said. “Are you proud of your P6?”

 You looked back at your car, then at the car of your teammate’s before your eyes landed back at Charles. You’d be in his spot at some point this season, you just knew it.

 “Yea. I’m proud of myself.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Bedtime Stories Pt 2 | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: Daniel made a silly little comment that lost him everything. Over a year later, he tries his hardest to fix his mistakes.

Warnings: Swearing. A tiny smidge of angst but mainly fluff. Redemption for Daniel.

Female reader with various faceclaims (pics found on pinterest). Takes place in 2023. For the purpose of the this, Daniel has been with AlphaTauri the whole time.

Part 1

Main Masterlist

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28•05•2023

danielricciardo just posted

liked by redbullracing, YourUserName and others

danielricciardo monaco, always a delight. P11. so close to the points but racing through your streets feels like being on a podium

4,337 comments

landonorris and whose attention are we trying to grab with that sexy last pic 👀

→ danielricciardo only yours, mate 

→ User1 don’t act like you’re not dying inside because y/n liked this 

→ User2 relax, they never unfollowed each other 🙄

maxverstappen1 you’ll get them next time, mate

→ danielricciardo fancy giving me a tow?

→ maxverstappen1 never

→ User3 i love their friendship so much

User4 um, did anyone see that y/n liked and then unliked this post 

→ User5 omg yes! sis was caught stalking and we love her for it 

→ User6 i too would thirst over my ex if he looked like that 

kellypiquet we were watching the whole time

liked by danielricciardo

→ User7 what a weird comment to make?

→ User8 who’s we, kelly? 

→ User9 what does this mean? 

 

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04•06•2023

Tweet 1

User10 @ kikiki babe did you hit your head? is that why you were in the ER? they broke up

User11 @ kikiki maybe ask them to do a head scan whilst you're there 'cause ain't no way you saw here there

→ User12 literally. like why would she even be in spain right now?

Tweet 2

User11 i think we might have to apologise to @ kikiki

→ User10 can we really trust the wag page though? They did report that Lando was having a secret love child the other week..?

Tweet 3

User13 asking the real questions because she's not even hinted that she’s been writing so it’s not like she’s on a book tour or anything?

→ User14 some people are saying she could be on vacation but please, why would mother choose a holiday destination during a time that she knows is a GP?

User15 guys, guys, I think our sacrifice circle worked 

→ User16 please, please, 🕯️🕯️

User 17 how poetic would it be though if they got back together  during the spanish GP when they broke up at the spanish GP a year ago 

User18 shouldn’t you know these answers, and that she was in spain, if you're her so-called updates page

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22•08•2023

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others

YourUserName some big news approaching 

6,349 comments

kellypiquet i can’t wait, my beautiful girl 

→ YourUserName thank you for being my #1 support

→ kellypiquet thank you for letting me help plan

→ User1 what does this mean? 

→ User2 miss piquet stop being so cryptic on socials 

maxverstappen1 i’m very excited 

→ YourUserName did kelly force you to write that because i could feel the excitement oozing through the screen

→ maxverstappen1 i wanted to say something worse 

→ YourUserName i hope she leaves you

→ kellypiquet behave, you two! 

→ User3 i live for max and y/n terrorising each other, even without danny ric being around to encourage it

bloomsburypublishing we look forward to the end result

User4 i’m sorry but is this a soft launch?

User5 who is that in the last slide, miss y/n?

→ User6 the inspiration behind a new romance we hope

User7 don’t be shy. tag him 

User8 soft launches have recently become my least favourite thing

charles_leclerc are you perhaps writing my next plane read

→ YourUserName depends how long the flight is 

→ User9 confirmation of a new book ya’ll!! everyone say thank you charles

User10 i like to be edged by her books, not by her hiding her man

User11 don't try and distract us with news of a new book, we wanna know who the feet belong to!

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01•09•2023

danielricciardo just posted

liked by maxverstapen1, yukitsunoda0511 and others

danielricciardo ciao a tutti. lovely sightseeing in beautiful Italy

6,445 comments

User12 you’re telling me that i’m currently in the same country as THE daniel ricciardo?

kellypiquet i’m still trying to recover from that hike

→ User13 kelly and max went on a double date with daniel and the new girl?!

→ User14 omg please be y/n. i can’t imagine kelly agreeing to it otherwise

User15 i know he's trying to distract us with his beauty but we see the last slide, daniel. we see it

pierregasly so you’re telling me that you were in milan and didn’t bother to come and see me? that’s it. i'm ending our friendship

→ danielricciardo i’m sorry, mate. i was doing more important things

→ pierregasly clearly ;)

User16 someone check on y/n, please

→ User17 babe is clearly having the time of her life in italy (yes, i'm delusional)

User18 does nobody find it odd that he’s posting a soft launch not long after y/n posted a soft launch

→ User19 i know! it’s only been three weeks since hers and he’s posting one

→ User20 i can’t decide whether they’re soft launching each other or he’s trying to make her jealous by flaunting a new relationship as well

→ User21 it HAS to be each other or i will die

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15•10•2023

lando.jpg just posted

liked by YourUserName, danielricciardo and others

lando.jpg so i attended this event… and no, it’s not mine before you all freak out

8,223 comments

charles_leclerc it was a beautiful day ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux i’m so thankful to have been a part of such wonderful memories

kellypiquet the most beautiful bride i have ever seen

maxverstappen1 this was a nicer caption than i expected from you

→ danielricciardo agreed

→ landonorris i take offence to that

User1 guys do we think kelly and max got married? they’ve both comments on this?

→ User2 yes but so did charles and alex so…

→ User3 plus, i know kelly is stunning but do we really think she would call herself the most beautiful bride in 3rd person?

georgerussell63 i’m surprised you remember much after the state you were in

→ landonorris excuse you but most of that was just pure happiness

hulkhulkenberg an amazing day

estebanocon so happy to have been a part of this

alex_albon how’s the hangover, mate

→ landonorris i didn’t drink that much!

→ georgerussell63 tell that to the bouquet that you puked on

→ landonorris i caught it so it was mine anyway

carlossainz55 beautiful photos. she’ll love those

→ User4 who’s she?!

lewishamilton🤍🩵

fernandoalo_official congratulations to the happy couple

User5 the entire grid are commenting on this post, clearly having been in attendance. who IS IT?

pierregasly c’était une belle mariée

liked by YourUserName

User6 guys, y/n’s name on socials just changed from y/l/n to ricciardo

liked by danielricciardo

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03•04•2024

YourUserName just posted with danielricciardo

liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName my husband helped with this project. baby ric coming aug 2024

9,550 comments

kellypiquet you will be the most beautiful mother. i’m so honoured to be part of this with you 💕

→ YourUserName stop you’re going to make me cry. you’ll be the most perfect godmother

→ kellypiquet i still think you should've married me instead

maxverstappen1 i call godfather

→ landonorris no you don’t get to call godfather! you already got to be a groomsman

→ maxverstappen1 yeah because who helped get them back together

→ YourUserName kelly

→ danielricciardo me

→ YourUserName no, babe

danielricciardo and before you all ask, no I haven’t stopped crying since she told me

→ kellypiquet me too, dan, me too

maxverstappen1 on a serious note, i am very happy for the two of you. y/n will be a wonderful mother, and daniel, he’ll be there also

charles_leclerc i am so excited. alex keeps telling me to stop buying baby things for you guys but i just don’t listen

→ YourUserName well at least you can safely say that uncle charl bought little mcqueen’s love

→ User7 uncle charl!!!!

lewishamilton congratulations, you two. y/n looks amazing

fernandoalo_official how lovely 💚

User8 omg it WAS their wedding lando attended!!!!!

hulkhulkenberg baby ricciardo!!

pierregasly congratulations. i can’t wait to be uncle GASSLYYYYYY

alex_albon welcome baby ricciardo

→ lilymhe it’s not an alien, alex. you don’t have to greet it so formally

redbullracing we’re all so excited for the upcoming grid baby. working on a racer stroller right this minute

→ mclaren you stole our gift idea!

→ redbullracing you stole our driver!

carlossainz55 congratulations y/n and daniel 😄

mercedesamgf1 what wonderful news 🍼

landonorris i’m just so glad i can go back to calling you mum and dad without daniel wanting to drive his car into the barrier

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Please don’t hate me for this! I did say from the beginning that Part 2s would be redemption.

I’ve had this planned and written since before Part 1 was published so when half of you then asked for her to get with another driver/move on, I was like noooooo I’ve already planned their baby 😂

As always. Requests welcome. If you have requested, I promise I’m not ignoring it, it’s been added to my queue

Baby Fever Angst Part 1s

Max’s Version | Lando's Version | Lance’s Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

Tag list

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @leclercsluvs @hannannannannannah @lifeless-firefly @sinofwriting @exotic-iris13 @imperfect-paragon @dan3avocado @barcelonaloverf1life @avillagesperson @hard4ndsoft @justzluv @laneyspaulding19 @danielshoe @chocolatefanunknown @redcrescentmoons

Sorry if I missed anyone!

[mariasont]

hi 🫶🏻 i was thinking maybe you could write spencer x reader inspired by taylor's I look in people's windows? for the plot it could be something like they were really close friends and reader was obviously in love with him but then he met meave and distanced himself from her, or maybe that he blames the reader for meave's death and is avoiding her, idk, whichever you prefer!!

i love your works, you're so good at writing!!

When the Swallows Come Again - S.R

a/n: hi my lovely you just know me tooooooo well. a swiftie plot line you ask? i am at your service

no but fr thank u so so sooo much for requesting i love YOU! 🫶🏼

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x gn!reader (im pretty sure pls correct me if i added any use of pronouns)

summary: spencer blames you for maeves death…or so you thought

warnings: angst! (happy endings, yes ik im feeling gracious), talk of death, blood, guns, usual criminal minds stuff

wc: 2.5k

The asphalt beneath your boots felt gritty, the sound muffled by the thick blanket of snow. With one hand, you tried to guard your face from the snowflakes that seemed determined to kiss your skin. They might seem pretty from inside, but out here, they were just another reminder of your inadequate clothing against the biting cold.

The first rays of the sun began to stretch across the concrete, painting long shadows in its wake. Although you could have found your way in the pitch black if needed. Most places were still closed, but you knew that a coffee shop you used to love would be open. It wasn't your top choice, mainly because of the fact that you might bump into--

Him.

You knew it was him before you even saw his face, the hairs on your arm standing at attention as you stopped dead in front of the window.

It was Spencer, unmistakable even from a distance, his distinctive curls made into a celestial crown by the cafe's soft light. Your heart stumbled, plummeting down to your shoelaces. A thousand emotions crashed around you, a vortex happening to quick to untangle. These were feeling you had buried down, far deeper than six feet, hoping they'd never resurface. But that, you realized, was just wishful thinking.

You watched from behind the glass, feeling like a stranger to the world that Spencer now inhabited--a world where you once had a seat at his table. Now, you were the outsider, the unwanted observer. The sound of his laughter, which once was a comforting sound, now seeped through the door's crack, a mocking reminder of a severed tie. Your friendship was one that had bloomed like the first flowers of spring.

But flowers wither, and seasons change.

With Spencer out of your life, a subtle death crept over you, eroding you piece by piece. It was a death characterized by the loud allegations, the quiet of words left unsaid, and a friendship that had crumbled because he blamed you for Maeve's death.

Not just blamed, he hated you.

He hated you because you had tried to save Maeve, but you just weren't quick enough, because you couldn't beat the onset of gunfire, because you went in instead of him. You knew the cost: if he went in, he wouldn't have come back out. You didn't regret that choice. He's alive and breathing, and that's worth any cost--even if it means he never spoke to you again.

But there he stood, living and breathing--just as you intended, and suddenly your body seemed to malfunction. Your feet might as well have been part of the pavement, the snowflakes assaulting your face just as Maeve's blood did that day. Your heart threatened to burst, racing with a ferocity that set your veins on fire. You were scorching alive, and it was 17 degrees. 

In the aftermath, Spencer had taken himself off the grid, locked himself in his apartment, and you didn't take it to heart because his withdrawal was all- encompassing. He was avoiding everyone. But then he came back, and it was as if you alone were invisible to him. You tried, with every fiber of your being, to bridge to gap, for him to let you be his best friend again, but your attempts were met with biting remarks and thinly veiled jabs.

It was exhausting. But he was grieving so you felt like he deserved a pass. He had been through so much, more than anyone on the team. Surely, if anyone deserved a pass, it was him. However, even the most generous pass has an expiration date, and six months of disregard made it challenging to keep validating the same worn-out ticket.

So, you submitted your transfer papers to the narcotics unit. You wanted to say a proper goodbye, but you weren't sure he'd care. So, you didn't. You waited until the office was empty, then disappeared without a trace. 

But it didn't hardly matter that you weren't physically around him because you found yourself searching for signs of him in everything you did. 

When you pulled on your socks, memories of his mismatching habit surfaced, and the way he'd cheekily taunt you for your staunch preference for matching white ones. When you went to the grocery store, you'd unintentionally wander to the aisle with the dark chocolate almonds, his favorite.

Every time a swallow flitted across your path, you were reminded of him. "Swallows return to the same place every year, but not the same partner," he had once explained.

The thought always stuck to you, like gum on the sole of your shoe, because now it was a poignant parallel to your own stupid, fractured bond. Connections were never meant to endure. You knew that now.

It was too late to reverse course when he spun around, catching you red-handed. Your mouth flapped open, a fish out of water, as you willed your feet to moved forward. The need for coffee paled in the comparison to the need to leave. But his reflexes outmatched yours, and the door swung open before you could make an escape.

He said nothing, just stared, and you came to a near-instant stop, narrowly avoiding a collision. The frosty air of your breath fogged the space between you, briefly distorting your view of him, softening his edges into the Spencer you once knew.

Now that he was within arm's reach, you could discern the finer aspects of his face. He looked good, tired, but good. He always looked good, but time had sculpted his features into something more profound. His hair had grown out, curling at the ends, and a stubble now sketched the contours of his face. 

"Hey."

Had you not been so captivated by the shape of his mouth, the faint sound would have been swallowed by the buzzing in your ears.

"Hey," you whispered, but even that was too much for your shaky voice, breaking mid-greeting and leaving you exposed before him. "I'm sorry, I had no idea you'd be here. Um, I should probably just--"

You maneuvered around him, pushing down the vomit of words rising in your throat, consciously fighting the impulse to catalog every line of his face, cognizant of the fact that it might just be the last time you'd see him.

His hand clasped your wrist, and you were suddenly you were the newest member of the BAU again, rubbing elbows with the boy genius, telling him all your secrets with the exception of one. How madly in love you were with him. Were? Are? Past tense? Present tense? You tried not to think about it.

You were frozen in time—not solely from the physical restraint but from the searing sensation of his touch, a feeling you hadn't known in ages, as if igniting your skin through your sleeve.

"Wait, please," he pleaded, the desperation is his voice anchoring you to the spot. You turned back to face him, finding your faces nearly touching. You shifted, intending to create space, but his grip on your arm didn't drop, so you didn't move. "How have you been?"

The question threw you off guard, and it filled your stomach with an irrepressible swarm of butterflies, a feeling so alive against the biting cold that stung at your nose.

Your fingertips were going numb.

"I'm okay, you?" A complete lie.

You racked your brain for the last time you felt okay. Perhaps it was before Spencer had started talking with Maeve. You didn't even know about it at first, that might have been the worst part. He was your best friend, and he had omitted such a significant detail of his life from you.

He just started to distance himself, forging a gap between the two of you that seemed to rival the expanse of the Grand Canyon. Perhaps it was an overstatement, but as the events unfolded, the comparison felt justified. 

The change began imperceptibly, almost cruelly gradual. You would have preferred a quick yank of the Band-Aid, but it was a prolonged, painful peeling. The first sign was him not jumping at the chance to be partnered on cases like he usually did. Then, it progressed to him choosing seats away from you on the jet, and finally, it escalated to him leaving the room all together when you were in it.

It was an achy feeling, an all-consuming soreness that infiltrated every inch of your being. You didn't understand, didn't know what you did wrong. It wasn't long after this you found out about Maeve.

And then, as if fate had dealt its cruelest hand, she died, and suddenly it was your fault. You became the villain in his eyes, condemned for your hesitance, and because you refused to let him die. Maybe it could be seen as selfish, but without him, you would be nothing.

Yet here you were living without him all the same.

His inspection was more thorough than you were ready for. It stirred an urge within you to shrink away, to sprint into the anonymity of the dark streets, but your feet remained rooted to the spot.

"I've been better," he admitted, eyes shining with something you couldn't quite place.

"Oh," you begam, the syllable suspended in the frigid air, but before your thoughts could coalesce into words, Spencer cut through the silence.

"Why did you leave?"

Your brows pinched together, your mouth agape as a singular heartbeat was lost--and then several more. "You can't be serious."

He looked confused. "What? No, Hotch never really told us your reasoning."

The taste of a bitter laugh lingered at the edge of your lips. "Spencer, we don't need to do this whole act, okay? We don't have to pretend that I left for any reason other than you."

"Because of me?" His hands glided upward, pausing on your shoulder, and you loathed the part of you that wanted to lean into him. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you kidding?" The words tumbled out, blinking away the tears of frustration that threatened to spill. "Spencer, I'm not stupid. I know you hate me. I know you blame me for what happened with Maeve. And I get it, you were grieving, and you had every right to be mad, and I just couldn't work there anymore."

"That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard," he cut in, his tone was sharp, yet somehow not unkind. "God, I don't hate you. I could never hate you."

"How can you stand there and say that?" you countered, your voice hurt and incredulous as you took a step away, the cold seeping into your bones and setting your teeth on edge. "You treated me like I was nothing, Spencer."

"Here," Spencer said, handing you his jacket. "You should know, prolonged exposure to cold weather can actually weaken your immune system."

"Oh," you said, slightly startled, feeling the warmth take hold in your cheeks. You rubbed your nose before pulling the jacket over your shoulders. It smelled just like him.

"I don't hate you, you know that, right?" Spencer's voice was soft, like he was whispering even though you were the only two on the street. "I'm sorry if I made you feel insignificant. You're far from it. You could never be nothing. But I was mad, and I let that get the better of me."

"But I tried, Spencer," you choked out, voice wavering, emotion thick in your throat. "I tried to save her. Maybe if I had more training, more experience... I know you wish I had let you be there instead, but I couldn't risk it, not with what I knew. And now our friendship is ruined and I--,"

"Hey, whoa, slow down," Spencer interjected, cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing away tears you hadn't even noticed. "You think I blame you? Oh, my god, no, sweetheart. I was angry, yes, but it was because you were willing to step in front of a gun."

"You don't blame me?"

"Of course I don't," he breathed out as if he couldn't believe this is what you thought. "I'm so sorry for giving you that impression. It was never my intention."

Your emotions bubbled over into a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. "I really missed you."

Spencer's heart seemed to shatter than mend in an instant as he drew you against him. "Can I kiss you?"

Giggles spilled out through chattering teeth, punctuating the air as a wide smile graced your lips. "You want to kiss me?" 

"I want to kiss you."

The idea almost seemed to sweet to be true.

"Okay."

He kissed you, and with each snowflake that settled into your hair, Spencer drew you in closer. In a way that you had only dreamed of. The biting cold was there, but it paled in comparison to the blaze that was now ignited through your body. 

It was perfect, everything you had imagined and more--real, warm, and grounding. 

He pulled away slowly, blinking the same speed, snowflakes dusting his lashes like delicate frost.

“I know I’ve been… difficult,” he said, his voice rough, his breath wanting your frozen cheek at the same time.

You pressed a hand to his chest. “Spencer, you don’t have to explain.”

A moment passed, as if he were thinking about your offer, then his gaze found yours, piercing and profound, as if the solid ground you stood on was suddenly fragile.

“But I need to,” he said, the raw need in his voice pulling your straight back into the orbit of his words. “I was angry, yes, you almost got yourself killed. But I pushed you away because it was far easier than facing the fear that I might lose you too.”

The beats of your heart echoed loudly—thump, thump—in its bony cage as your fingers curled tightly into his shirt.

“Every time I looked at you, I saw what I could have lost, and that fucking terrified me.”

Spencer cussed, this wasn’t unusual, but the intensity behind it made you frown. His words, so honest, seemed pull you in, invading his personal space in an effort to get rid of yours.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

The sun was shining now, casting golden rays over the snow and Spencer’s face, framing him just as he was in your mind.

“Then let’s not waste anymore time.”

You love him. Present.

For a second you thought Spencer might be wrong because maybe, just maybe, swallows could return to the same place, and the same partner after all.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf

[visenyaism]

Sorry if you’ve been asked this but what do you think of all the rot in asoiaf? Obv some of it is related to the problems with monarchy but I feel like a lot of it isn’t and it just leaves me curious. Like cold hands or people killed by the others idk what that symbolizes there. Jon is in a land in which rot is in stasis from the cold and it’s creepy as shit. And then there’s stuff that could have multiple interpretations like dany by proxy of selmy experiencing bio warfare with the corpses like I know some people see it as the fall of old ghis but I wondered if maybe it was a sign to dany about breaking the wheel and doing as her ancestors did. Idk I know it’s a nasty series and sometimes grrm is just doing stuff so that it’s gross but I feel like rot comes up SO much and I people are usually talking online about like Tywin when it comes to rot.

Oh one of my favorite things about the asoiaf series is how heavy-handed george rr martin is with the rot symbolism. and (at the risk of sounding like an mfa vomited on my keyboard) the way that the political, pestilential, societal, and climatological aspects of the rot symbolism all interconnect.

In a society founded on so many feudal evils that has perpetuated for centuries, something has to give. It is a recurring theme in these books that violations of human decency under feudalism cause cataclysmic societal collapse represented through literal and metaphorical pestilence.

There’s the sociopolitical collapse in the riverlands caused by war of human decency and norms like guest right and prohibitions on kinslaying or cannibalism just dedicating away as times get hard. broken men. bodies left to rot in the sun for the crows to feast on. There’s the fermenting wildfire under every major street in Kings Landing. There’s the familial/relational decay of incest especially the targaryens and the lannisters. The people who hold power and that society rot, despite everyone’s best efforts at keeping up appearances: Robert Baratheon the “war hero” dies of a very nasty festering stomach wound he got in a drunken hunting accident, Tywin gets shot on the privy and his corpse putefies in the sept.

The climate stuff is also very salient. The series starts during late summer and as things get worse and worse in the world declines into the autumn where the summer fruit and all of the abundance is literally rotting through the hands of the characters. (see: renly’s peach vs doran’s blood oranges!) The cold up at the wall keeps the rot at bay for a while, but it does not entirely stop it. Coldhands’ hands are still blackening. Things are still unraveling at the hinges of the world. that’s pretty representative of the way that the violence of the border wall and the penal colony stationed there to patrol it are not sustainable. The decline of the night’s watch from a once proud order to a penal colony full of cruel and often impoverished convicts dropped off there by circumstance is a symptom of the society that sends people up there. But something still has to give. The wall will fall down and the existential crisis will come, it’s just slowed.

Critically, there is also the forgotten parable of Old Valyria: a society founded on extreme cruelty and slavery which eventually experiences cataclysm coming up from the very tunnels they send the enslaved into to die for the empire. A lot of what Daenerys experiences in Essos is an extension of that commentary on slave societies to me. Like. as the slavers try and reconquer places dany has liberated, people fleeing the violence, bring disease like the bloody flux with them. The rot creeps back. (important: disease and rot in the series is not always something people get for being morally bad. it often happens to people who just have no choice but to live in these places.)

But that’s why I think the way Volantis is described really ties a lot of those elements of the rot symbolism together. This is a society that has founded itself up from out of the corpse of old valyria. The city maintains some veneer of old glory, but the fountains are dry and the paint is chipping. The people there eat food that is so sweet it literally causes your teeth to rot out if you were to consume it every day. In terms of climate, I think it’s relevant that it is described as extremely, almost disgustingly, humid, and everything is excessively perfumed to cover up a tangible smell of decay.The air is quite literally cloying and difficult to breathe. You feel dirty after walking through it. The evil of slavery is rotting the city to its core in the same way that the evil of feudalism and the wars for the iron throne is affecting the city of king’s landing.

To wrap allllll this up. Rot is a signal that obviously societal collapse is coming, but it’s also transitional: the empire of old ghis brought about its downfall, and then valyria found itself on the same principles which brought about its own downfall, and then the Targaryen went to westeros and engineered their collapse in Kings Landing while the freehold did the same essos. I think the climatological and disease aspects of it are really heavy-handed symbolism that something has to give in the societies and we’re at the point in the series where that’s about to happen.

I think the ultimate arc of the series ends in some form of significant societal collapse, but instead of building upon a rotten foundation again people are going to have try and hope for something new and gather the courage to build that.,quite literally dreaming of the spring.

[boopshoops]

I've... never really ever been to somethin' as fancy as this before. Oh? You want to dance? ...Pfff, sure. Why not?

Set to home screen: Aight, let's get going.

Home Transition 1: You should've seen how excited Neige was to see Vil here too. But the more I hear about Vil... really makes me wish Neige would take the hint. Don't get me wrong, Neige is sweet as candy, I know, but it's obvious Vil needs some space.

Home Transition 2: I feel like if I make one wrong step, people are gonna look at me like I'm crazy or something. I'm not used to all this etiquette. Welp, not like that's anything new anyway. Let's go have some fun.

Home Transition 3: Yuu's been... huh? Haaa, I swear to Sevens, one moment I think she's missing forever and at the next she's doing whatever the fuck she wants. Just get that cat-thing to distract her for a bit, I'll be over soon enough.

Home Transition 4: If I see one more pinch of glitter getting anywhere near my face, it's on sight. Seriously, I'm gonna be finding this shit everywhere for the rest of my life.

Home, after login: The more time I spent trying to get this whole outfit sorted out, the more I felt conflicted about RSA being invited to this party... but now that I'm here, it's not so bad.

Tap Home 1: I kept having to try on all these uncomfortable dresses before we FINALLY landed on something that suited me. Pants are so much more comfortable anyway. "Who's we?" Ah. Yuu and Neige helped me out a bit.

Tap Home 2: ...Pfff, I've watched Chenya sneak up on like, five different people now. It gets funnier every time. What a dork. That short red head looks so mad-

Tap Home 3: I...uh... think I might've saw someone crying when I came in. Should I... tell someone? I feel bad just leaving 'em be.

Tap Home 4: Hey, look, if you think you're struggling with dancing along, you can come stand on my feet. I know how to lead with this kinda thing... I mean, if you wanna. Not that you're doing bad, I- fuck. You know what I mean.

Tap Home 5: ...You've been hiding under my cape for a good while now. I know it's all shiny and big and whatnot. But do you need something? I'm sure there are other places you could go. Oh? Nah. You're not botherin' me. I just thought you might be getting bored.

Groovification: Hahaha! You shoulda seen their faces when I finally started dancing. Let's out-prince these princes....... man that sounded cheesy. Pfff-

Tap Home Groovy: Whew... I think I'm gonna take a break outside for a bit. Maybe explore NRC campus while I have the chance. Crowley always gets on my case when I sneak in here with the cat boy.

Home Transition Groovy: Ya know, I'd be down to do something like this again. Maybe with more casual clothes, but still. I liked seeing all the shocked looks on peoples faces when they see I actually know how to work this kinda look.

Art tags!!! 🫂💕

@thehollowwriter @skriblee-ksk @distant-velleity @justm3di0cr3 @kitwasnothere

@lowcallyfruity @techno-danger @scint1llat3 @cecilebutcher

The lovely fan event is by @starry-night-rose !!! 💕

[nicromancytarot]

FIRST KISS WITH YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD TAROT READING

I asked my spirit guides how your first kiss with your future spouse is going to go, pick a picture to find out what they have to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

During the time of your first kiss with your future spouse I feel like you guys will be feeling slightly insecure about the connection and situation you are in with your person, it may be that they don’t seem interested enough, or that you are having doubts about your connection. I see this coming at a time when your relationship (I’m assuming situationship or talking stage) is on the rocks and a little unstable. The kiss is cementing the seriousness of your relationship and it shows each other what you want, that you are one hundred percent ready for each other. You have both the lovers and the two of cups, so I think you two may begin dating after this kiss, as if no words needed to be spoken for you to realise how serious this is to be between you both. The moment this kiss happens, it sweeps you two off your feet, causing everything that has reached crossroad to end, and a new path emerges for you to follow.

The kiss itself will be initiated by the feminine energy, it could seem very random, and it will help either one, if not both of you with your self-love and perception. The kiss will give you answers, I’m assuming it’s quite spontaneous and random, it could happen when the masculine is talking about the future, or something to do with their leadership over something, the feminine will just swoop in with a kiss on random. Again, we have another heavy commitment card, so I don’t think much will be said between you during this kiss, however you will both know that it has elevated your connection.

I see this happening in a place someone doesn’t want to be, I don’t know if the second person was expected to be there, however they came anyways and the person who isn’t happy to be there is super excited to be able to talk and get away with the other. It could be a place of work, somewhere where a lot of people are and there’s lots of conversations. Also could be a party since I see strong energy of talking and aggressive energies.

PILE 2

During the time of the kiss, I see the feminine getting tired of the lack of direction between the connection of the two. There seems to be a lot of untold truths in this connection, and the feminine is tired of being left in the dark. I feel this is due to the masculine’s fear of opening up to people, they may be embarrassed of their feelings, or just nervous that the feminine won’t see them as strong, heavy on the strength, that’s how the masculine wants to be seen. The kiss happens at a time where the two of you are between total commitment and becoming strangers again, where you’re trying to build something, but the masculine keeps getting spooked and pulls back. This is definitely a connection which starts off as a hot and cold one, one second they’re all in, and then the next they pull away. It’s clear this becomes frustrating for the feminine as they just want a clean message without any hidden undertones. I think this will take place right after or during an argument, not one that is incredibly heated, however I see the feminine walking away and the masculine pulling them back and in for a kiss. It’s very spontaneous and unexpected.

The kiss itself is being described as “soul sucking,” it will make you both forget about the prior issues and disagreement between you both, and will bring an end to the confusion. The masculines lips taste like those of uncovered promises and words which they wouldn’t dare let leave, they are spilling their entire, darkest memories and truths into the feminine, letting them know each other inside out. The kiss is hazy, it’s dizzying and you may need to sit down after. It marks the beginning of stability and readiness for one another, your lips on theirs prove that you are ready to become each others.

This could happen outside, somewhere near water, perhaps one or both of you live near a beach or a body of water. I think some people may hear you argue, I did see a parking lot, so it could be right after a date or if you’re friends, then after you mentioned or asked for the answer of what you two were, and the masculine got a little hesitant to answer while walking the feminine to their car, causing the feminine to react and try to call quits to a relationship which had no answers or security.

PILE 3

During the time of the kiss, I think you guys will be in a relationship or at least committed to each other without the full on commitment. If you aren’t already in a relationship with a label, then you will use this first kiss to begin the start of your official relationship. You pile 3’s have very good stability with your future spouse even at this moment, you’re both very clear with where you want this to happen. I’m assuming you’re my pile of instantaneous love. The kiss could have you both laughing afterwards, finding it entertaining rather than passionate or super intimate, one of you may even crack a joke after and then get back to talking about what they were talking about.

I don’t think there’s an initiator in this pile, you both might just lean in while talking about something on the couch, catching your lips in a swift kiss to commit a silent prayer of worship before returning to the conversation at hand, it feels very natural and calming, you may just be watching a movie. This kiss will help you nurture your connection, it may make you feel a lot more comfortable too, since it’s the next big step in the connection. One of you could have had a breakup a while back, and haven’t kissed anyone since, this kiss is almost washing away the taste and touch of the before relationship, immediately associating intimacy and romance with the future spouse, rather than the ex.

I see this happening at a place of comfort, I assume someone’s home, somewhere where you can relax and wind down, and also a place you are somewhat protective of - or maybe they are. So heavy homely energy for you guys. The room could be in a little bit of a mess, and one of you may be embarrassed over the other person seeing such a mess, but the other person really doesn’t care about it.

[hornychristianprincess]

wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt. 1

paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan, college au word count: 6k summary: hooking up with a stranger at a party is fun when said stranger is a tall, attractive philosophy major whose name you don’t learn until weeks later. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (female and male receiving), a lil butt action but nothing too crazy

ao3 link can be found HERE.

“You’re a new face,” remarked the rich, husky voice belonging to the stranger who had just approached you. In a house party that was relatively packed, you thought you were blending in by sticking to the wall and enjoying your solo cup full of unlabeled liquor. And yet, here was the approaching figure of a man so tall you had to crane your neck to face him, knowing nothing about you and yet still managing to observe how out of place you seemed.

“That obvious, is it?”

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing about you, per se. It’s just, these things are usually pretty tight-knit; the same people come every time. So when someone’s new, you notice,” he tells you, his slow, calm way of talking making you feel relieved and deeply curious at the same time. “Do you go to school here?” 

You nod your head in confirmation, though it feels foreign to do so when parts of you still feel more like a visitor than a student. “I just transferred here.”

He smiles hospitably at this, gesturing his arms out towards the room of people who surround you. “Welcome to our vibrant community. Please enjoy your stay. Refreshments are in the back and the ice machine is down the hall.”

You giggle genuinely at him and the sort of clumsy, awkward way his words seem to land on you. He’s the kind of person you were expecting to meet when you transferred from your rural state school to this smaller liberal arts college. There’s something almost dorky and strange about him, from the way he dresses in an oversized cardigan and big round glasses to the way he holds eye contact with you for what you deem longer than normal. And yet, his self-assuredness is crystal clear to you. It’s at this moment that you acknowledge to yourself how attractive you find him.

“Did you come here with someone?” he asks you, his posture changing so that he’s leaning into you just slightly.

“Yeah. My roommate is here somewhere—” you gesture aimlessly around you, “—probably getting tongued down in someone’s bathroom.”

At this point, you had been fighting off the inclination to assume that the man in front of you was chatting you up for any reason outside of sincere curiosity. But his intentions are made crystal clear when he replies, “Yeah? Care to follow suit?”

You laugh both out of amusement and shock at his forwardness, and even he seems taken aback by his own candor as he smiles in a sheepish, apologetic sort of way. Still, the way that his piercing dark eyes never seem to cease their burning into you, there’s no doubt in your mind that he meant every implication embedded in that response.

“You know, you never told me your name,” you point out, not sure why you are prolonging what feels like the inevitable moment tonight when you’ll find yourself tangled in bed with the handsome man in front of you. Perhaps you’d just like to talk to him for a little bit longer, enjoy the gratification of his attention. Or maybe it’s just fun to tease him and watch the way his eyes crinkle in bashful embarrassment.

You’re pleased when he seems no less interested in you even as you divert from his advances. In fact, he perks up at your observation. “That I did not. Call me pretentious, but I like to think that learning my name is a privilege.”

You show your disinterest in this notion with a scoff, something the stranger seems to take in stride. “Is a man’s name not all that he has in this world, from birth to death?” he asserts with a prideful smirk.

“Philosophical. That your major?”

“How’d you know?”

You’re starting to feel a little scared with just how much you’re beginning to love the sound of your overlapping laughter. When it dies down, you bask in the brief moments of silence where neither of you knows what to say next and instead just stare at each other’s faces in an almost innocent, child-like way. It’s so different from what you’re both feeling inside, anticipation and lust and desire swirling in a mix that makes your bodies feel charged.

“So since you’re not telling me your name, should I tell you mine?”

“Only if you feel I’m worthy of it,” he replies. The game that he’s playing confounds you but you see no harm in playing into it, something tantalizing and freeing about not being bound to the expectations of each other’s names.

“That, my friend,” you reply, “is yet to be decided.” You raise your hand to push against his shoulder, surprised at how sturdy the skin under his cardigan feels. He ricochets dramatically against the force of your hand, and when his body returns to yours, it’s closer than before. He rests his hand on the wall just above your head, the way he’s angled making him appear even taller than he did before.

“You know, I was exploring this house earlier, and there’s a room in the back with a comfortable-looking king-sized bed,” he says, words that would sound fuckboyish and crude if anyone else said them, but come out dorky and amusing when he does, especially when his next statement is, “And the entire time I was in there, all I could think was, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone to pillow fight with?”

You smile, the expression mirrored on the stranger’s handsome face as he watches you react to his off-putting way of flirting. You decide to help him out by being more direct. “Are you asking me to pillow fight with you, stranger?” you ask, voice tilted in your best attempt at sounding seductive.

“Only if you’d be willing, stranger.”

When your roomate convinced you to go out with her tonight, you were intrigued by the notion of getting to know this new campus community, plus the always-tempting chance to get a few drinks in your system. You weren’t thinking that you would be in this position, about to hook up with a guy who won’t even tell you his name. 

You’ve been feigning confidence up until this point, an easy enough task when the man in front of you is good-looking and talkative. But now, as you prepare to follow him with the pretty certain chance of having sex, you have to finish off the remnants of your drink first, allowing the heat of liquid courage to wash over you like a warm blanket.

“Lead the way,” you tell him, taking the hand that he offers you before being led through the crowd of partygoers.

He takes you into a bedroom that’s on the ground floor, allowing you to settle in in front of him as he takes heed to lock the door. The bass from the loud music outside vibrates against the enclosed walls of the room. You’re grateful that it’s not completely silent, otherwise this would feel more awkward. 

“See,” the stranger says, walking over to face you. “I wasn’t lying about the king-sized bed.”

With the way he’s standing over you, combined with the looming implications of what you’re about to do – or rather, what you’re about to let him do to you – you’re too anxious to laugh. Instead, you stare at him, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Do you like to kiss when you hook up?” he asks you, straight-forward and to the point. You like that. You’ve never understood people who don’t like to kiss those they’re having sex with. Is the act of kissing somehow more intimate than letting someone inside you?

“Depends,” you reply, already moving to cradle the side of his face with your hand. “Are you a good kisser?”

He doesn’t answer verbally, moving instead to lean in so that your lips meet. Everything about this man feels like a paradox. Your interactions thus far have felt innocent, awkward even, and yet they still led to you following him into a stranger’s bedroom with the intention of having sex. And now, though his looks and the way he carries himself feel so clumsy, the way he kisses you is intense, all-consuming. 

He wastes no time trying to build up to something intense. Without pretense, his tongue is invading the wetness of your mouth, forcing your lips open as an audible whimper of surprise spills out. One of his hands comes up to lace itself into your hair, and in another act that surprises you, he pulls on it so that your faces come even closer. You’ve never found the taste of liquor on someone’s lips more addicting than you do now. 

You pull away to find a smirk on his lips, cockiness written all over his expression as he asks, “What do you think?”

It’s hard to conjure up any words when his hand is still in your hair, tipping your head back so that his eyes can comfortably rake over your face and particularly linger on your reddened lips. “I think I really, really want you to fuck me,” is what you manage, and even if you were the type to feel shameful at such remarks, it would be hard to when your words visibly light up his handsome expression until he’s kissing you again.

Your lips melt into his in a kiss so passionate it has you both walking backward in an eager effort to get each other onto the bed. You waste no time in pawing the clothes off of his slender body, satisfied as you hear his jeans then his cardigan hit the carpeted floor with a soft plop.

He does the same when it comes to your dress, a flowy, strapless piece that required you to go braless for it to work. Once it’s off and you’re both down to just underwear, you’re met with the feeling of his bare skin against your bare skin, your bare chest against his bare chest, and more relieving than anything else, the feeling of the bed frame meeting the back of your thighs as you finally reach the bed.

Pushing you up onto the edge of the bed, he lets his hands wander the expanse of your body, enjoying the feeling of your tits squeezed in the palms of his hands. You lean into his touch, moaning a little in his mouth as he never stops kissing you, even as he reaches down to breach the waistband of your underwear. 

You don’t realize how wet you are until his slender fingers push out to separate your folds, a task made difficult as your sticky arousal glues your lips together. But he manages it dextrously, wasting no time in finding your clit and drawing slow, teasing circles with the pads of his fingers.

His other hand, which had up until this point been palming your breast idly, now comes up to hold your face as he regretfully pulls his lips from yours. He studies your expressions with furrowed eyebrows, a teasing lilt in his voice as he asks, “Do you like it when I touch you here?” 

Just as soon as you part your lips to respond, his fingers dip lower until he’s sliding two of them into your fluttering hole. Your wetness provides no resistance, and now he’s coiling them deep inside of you. “Or here?”

You can’t think or respond when he’s pumping his long, slender fingers in and out of you, an act made more intense as he forces you to look at him with his hand on your jaw keeping your head in place. 

If you had to describe sex you’ve had in the past, vulnerable isn’t a word you’d use. 

And yet, it’s exactly how you feel as his eyes never leave your face, overseeing every expression you make from overwhelmed to whimpering to having your lips parted in a moan. 

A faint part of you wonders if you should feel more uncomfortable with how intimate this sex feels. 

And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more pent up just with someone's fingers inside of you than right now, especially when he opens his mouth to praise you in his deep voice.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he says, his breezy tone of voice reminiscent of a lullaby. “I’m so glad I met you tonight. Can’t wait to fuck you.”

He fucks his fingers deeper inside of you as he says this, causing you to mewl as you throw your head back in his hands. “Don’t make me wait, then,” you challenge, gripping his arm to steady yourself as another moan threatens its way to your lips.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” he wolfishly remarks. “Well, if you insist.”

With am amused smile on his face, he pulls his fingers out of you, raising them between your two faces so that you both can look on at the wetness which coats them. You’re not at all surprised when he brings them to his lips, only turned on as he sucks both fingers clean with a wet smack.

“Wanna know what you taste like?” he proposes, his expression and tone of voice far too innocent for what he’s just done. You don’t respond, only pull him into you for a kiss so lewd it makes your insides jump. You reach your hand between your bodies as you kiss him, attaching your fingers to the bulge protruding from his boxers. You enjoy the feel of his clothed cock, large and substantial in your hands, before he’s pulling away to sigh against your lips. 

Your hand leaves his body as he moves away from you. “Don’t go anywhere. Need to grab a condom.”

You watch him in amusement as he goes to hunch over his discarded jeans. In his absence, you relax on your stomach, facing him on the edge of the bed. “Where would I go, stranger?”

“I don’t know,” he intones, returning to you with a silver packet in between his fingers. “But If I could freeze you like this forever, so pretty and waiting for me to fuck you, I would.”

The stranger’s way with words has your body responding once more, a ripple of electricity traveling up your legs and even more so when he takes off his boxers in front of you. You’re not ashamed at whatever expression of suprise is surely showing up on your face at the sight. 

You’d likely use the word pretty to describe his dick, veins bulging out of it like little vines and a tip that matches the rosy color of his lips. You decide then that he’s the biggest you’ve ever taken, though you suppose you should save that judgment for when he’s actually managed to fit inside of you.

Your thoughts are broken by his touch as he lifts your chin up with his hands, a smirk ever so prominent on his puffy lips. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

You both giggle at his cheekiness, a moment of humour that is promptly ended when the opening of the condom packet grabs your attention. You reach out to cease his movements with a hand on his wrist. He meets your gaze with a cute, confused look on his face. “Wanna taste you first, stranger” you assert with a blink.

“You’re so cute,” he remarks enjoyably, “But I won’t last if you do.”

You look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them extra hard as you say, “Just a peck?”

As you already suspected from the lack of conviction in his earlier refusal, he’s not at all stern as he moves to rub his thumb across your cheek. “Since you asked so nicely,” he replies permissively.

You barely have to lean forward off the bed for your mouth to reach his cock, tall and straight and hard in front of your face. Wetting your lips with your tongue, you press a kiss just underneath his tip, making eye contact as you pull away to watch as a heavy sigh leaves his lips. You don’t stop at just one peck, peppering them all along his shaft and enjoying the smoothness of his skin against your lips.

“I thought you said just a peck?” he reminds you when he notices what you’re doing, placing a hand on your hair but making no effort to push you away.

“Am I not pecking?” you ask, relishing in the groan he lets out when you wrap your puckered lips over his reddened tip. You’re just about to open your mouth fully before he finally shows some restraint, pulling you off of him with a tug of your hair.

“That’s enough,” he asserts, the mattress dipping from his weight as he hops onto the bed behind you. “If I’m not inside of you within the next 5 seconds, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Conscious of his presence behind you, you raise your body into an arch and feel pleased when he immediately grabs at your hips to pull you in closer. He ignores the impatient little wiggles of your ass that you do in attempt to get him to fuck you, prefering instead to spread your pussy open with his fingers and groan as he watches arousal spill out of you. “You’re so fucking wet,” he remarks dreamily, sliding a languid finger inside of you in a way that makes your arch deepen. “And it’s all for me, isn’t it, baby?”

His vocal tone has taken a shift so that he sounds less adoring and more sadistic, the observance of your arousal being just for him stated almost matter-a-factly. You don’t know why it turns you on even more than before, but it does, especially as he plays idly with pussy as if he forgets it belongs to a living, breathing you.

You’re fighting off whimpers as his fingers continue their exploration of your entrance. You hear him let out a long, drawn out “Fuck,” under his breath before he’s withdrawing from you entirely and asking, “Can I eat you out?”

Images of his plump, rosy lips flash through your mind like a movie sequence before you’re humming out affirmatively, excitement of what’s to come making your body tense as you feel him laying down on the bed, feel his breath against your mound as he becomes level with your pussy, feel his lips against your clit as he goes in to take all of you in his mouth.

The sounds that fill the room now are nothing but a lewd combination of your moans, his slurping, and the continued blaring of music coming from outside the walls. The way that he eats pussy is almost just as clumsy and unsure as he is, but he somehow manages to make you cry out as his tongue expertly flicks against your clit, or he licks into your entrance to taste the arousal there. 

You feel yourself becoming lightheaded and breathless as he licks you closer into orgasm. Already worked up from all the time he spent fingering you, what feels like the last straw is when he experimentally licks upward and brushes his tongue against the tight skin of your asshole. Noticing how it makes you moan and reach back to pull at his long hair, he keeps going, wetting your ass with his tongue. 

Alternating between this and your cunt, it’s only a matter of time when you find yourself mewling and tensing as your orgasm takes over your body. Your thighs are shaking and your hands are pulling so hard at his hair that you’re afraid you’ll rip it, but nonetheless he holds you up with two large hands against your ass and groans as you come all over his face. 

When he finally pulls away from you, your body collapses against the bed, all the marks of a good orgasm hitting you at once – ringing ears, tensed limbs, rising chest. You’re brought back to Earth by the feeling of faint, fleeting kisses being left on the expanse of your spine, the stranger’s body pressed against yours before he’s level with you and moving to pull your head to face his.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, sweet and innocent in yet another moment of tenderness that feels inappropriate for the setting you’re in. Nonetheless, you nod and relish in the feeling of his mouth against yours once more, acknowledging faintly to yourself that he just might be the best kisser you’ve ever been with.

He brings your body back to life by snaking his arms underneath you, grabbing at your boobs and almost making you feel ticklish as he gently caresses your stomach. Pulling away from your lips, he mutters the command of, “Turn around,” against your lips that you follow with zeal.

Flat on your back, you’re brought face to face with the man who has exceeded your expectations in almost every way compared to anyone else you’ve slept with so casually. Long locks of dark hair drape against the sides of face as he holds himself above you, making him look intense, but only briefly before he’s asking through an impish smile, “Are you intimidated by eye contact?”

He says it to you like it’s a challenge, like he hopes you’ll be shy so that he can guide you through it anyway. You shake your head stubbornly. “No,” you answer, “But I’m intimated by you.” It’s true. You’ve definitely never met a person like him, never had sex feel so intimate with a complete stranger. It scares you.

“Don’t be. I’m really a softie,” he assures, a childlike expression of excitement lighting up his handsome features. He presses a hand against your cheek in a gesture of affection, lips curling into a grin. “Only, my dick is as hard as a rock right now. Kinda wanna bury it inside of you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

You’re surprised when, in reply, he adjusts his body so that he’s lined up perfectly with your entrance, his latex covered tip pressing just slightly into you. “That’s a great question,” he quips, and without any further pretense, he slots himself inside of you.

You let out identical sounding sighs as his cock is engulfed by the sensitive, wet inside of your pussy. He presses his hips against you, making sure he’s as deep as he possibly can be before looking down at you for your approval. “Feels good?”

“Yes. Oh god, yes,” you’re whimpering in reply, head already thrown back as you get used to the feeling of his girth filling you. 

Hearing you express how good you feel is all the stranger needs to hear before he’s pulling out of you, methodically ensuring that just the tip is left inside before pushing back in. His vigor catches you by surprise, leaving you no time to adjust as he continues at a feverish pace. Unintelligible, broken-sounding cries spill out from your lips with each moment his hips meet yours.

“You have such pretty eyes,” he remarks as he watches you, a compliment you don’t think you’ve ever heard before while being fucked into the next dimesion. “And a pretty mouth, too,” he adds, his thumb breaching the wet insides of your lips before he’s leaning down to kiss you. The kiss is messy as you struggle to meet each other’s mouths, devolving into a mixture of tongue and spit and broken breath.

“Talk to me. Tell me how good I’m fucking you,” he groans against your mouth, sitting up on his knees to fuck you in an angle that’s deeper that before. With the pounding that he’s giving you, you’re just barely able to catch your breath, let alone form the words to respond to him.

“Can’t…scream your name if I don’t know it,” you manage to say in a teasing sort-of-way, your smirk widening into an open-mouthed cry as you’re sure he grazes your g-spot with a particualrly deep drive of his hips. 

He chuckles at your way of trying to get him to share his name, and whether he’s truly serious in wanting to withhold it from you or because he just wants to tease you, he says, “Come on my cock, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

“Fuck me harder, and I will,” you reply tauntingly, not because he’s not already, but because even through the haze of your approaching orgasm, you want to see how he’ll respond to your challenge.

He smiles at this request, though while maintaining his same pace. “But I don’t wanna break you, sweet girl,” he remarks, and if he weren’t, too, about to crash into his approaching climax, he’d surely make it a point to tease you for how you clench at the pet name. Instead, he opts to slot a hand between your legs and make work of your clit, rubbing it in tantalizing circles. “Does this help?”

Just as you were sure this sex couldn’t get any better, the added stimulation to your clit has your entire body reeling with pleasure. “Oh god, yes. Don’t stop.”

With each approaching second, you can feel yourself about to fall apart, a condition only worsened when the stranger pulls you down by your hips, bringing him even deeper inside of you. You love the sound of his deep voice from above you, sounding almost far-away and dreamlike as he mumbles remarks like, “Keep making those pretty noises for me, baby,” that shoot straight to your core, only adding to your wetness.

“Fuck, you’re killing me baby,” is what he says as his own pleasure begins to reach it’s peak. You love the expressions he makes, the almost painful look on his face as he says, “Wish I could come inside this tight little pussy.”

Even with the knowledge that he put a condom on, you can’t help but react positively to the notion of being filled with his hot, sticky release. And without intending it, your walls close tightly around his cock in tandem with the loud moan that on its own revealed just how much you enjoyed that little tidbit of dirty talk. And without fail, the stranger is quick to pick up on it and tease you for it, though through his own gritted teeth and groans as he inches closer to release.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? If I filled you up with my cum? You wanna have my baby and you don’t even know my name?’

It’s the half-degrading, half-awe-inspired tone of voice he uses that throws you over the edge, your thighs shaking in anticipation of what you’re sure will be an earth-shattering orgasm. “I’m close,” you confess through baited breath.

“I know you are,” he acknowledges in reply, and without warning, your body convulses with the strength of your climax. “That’s it. Come on my dick.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt anything quite like the overwhelming pleasure that washes over you in a series of pulsating, neverending waves. The stranger fucks you through it without any alteration in speed, and it’s just as you’re about to squirm away in overstimulation that he finishes with one last, deep thrust inside of you. The sound of his groans are just as melodic and husky as his voice is, sending little afterschocks of arousal up your belly until finally, he pulls out of you with a grunt.

Looking up at the ceiling, you feel the mattress dip beside you as he collapses onto the bed. Usually, this would be the point where the post-nut clarity hits you and you’d begin to regret another series of bad decisions that led you to a stranger's bed. Instead, as you lock eyes with who might possibly be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, you only wonder what you did to deserve such good fortune to have met him tonight.

“That was fucking amazing, stranger,” he remarks, putting voice to your own exact thoughts as he rolls over so that he can stroke your cheek idly. You try to hold off the pestering inclination to blink so that you can take in the rosy-cheeked, delicately striking state his orgasm has left him in. 

You thought that after giving you what was surely the best pounding of your life that you’d be less inclined to view him as a total weirdo. Instead, there is something so innocent now about the way he looks at you, as he can’t even believe this happened. Wanting to tease him, you reply, “Good enough for me to learn your name?”

He considers your question with an impish chuckle, and though you’re not at all desperate to know his name, you’re still surprised when he replies, “Will you forgive me if I say something tells me I want to keep you hanging for just a little while longer?”

There is an air of mysteriousness to his words that you pick up on but have trouble interpreting. And while you itch to know what’s going on in that big brain of his, you decide not to question him any further, instead just appreciating the ease and contentment of this moment. 

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” you tell him candidly, leaning in so that the tip of your noses touch. “But I’m glad I met you tonight.”

You’re not embarrassed at all when you lean in to kiss him, because even though the sex is over, you just want to feel his lips against yours one last time before you go back to being two strangers who will likely never see each other after this. He reciprocates, seemingly ignorant to the idea of kissing someone chastely as he pulls you in and slips his tongue into your mouth.

Nevertheless, when you pull away, you know the moment is over when he says, “Walk of shame out the door together?”

You’re not sad, only content as you turn to him and answer. “Let’s.”

It’s a cozy Thursday morning on your campus as you step outside to meet with your friend, Jaehyun. When you had allowed him to borrow your computations textbook, you had no idea it would lead you to his apartment complex, where he swore he had left the book on accident.

“I promise you, I thought I brought it with me to class, but I must’ve left it in my room,” he explained sheepishly, patting his pockets as he searched for his apartment key. With his straight-cut bangs and habit of forgetfulness, Jaehyun was about the closest thing to a friend that you had since transferring. You went to the same high school together, congregating in the same social circles but ultimately going two separate ways after graduation. 

It wasn’t until your first day at this new school that you sat down for your morning class and discovered that Myeong Jaehyun went here, too. Since that moment of recognition on both of your ends, he’s been your only piece of relative familiarly in a place that still feels new to you.

“Here we are,” mumbled a disgruntled Jaehyun as he finally managed to unlock the door to his apartment. It was your first time seeing the place, and as far as student housing went, you were impressed. The space was populated with nice-enough-looking furniture and boyish decorations that you could tell belonged to Jaehyun and whoever his roommate was.

“I’m gonna go get your textbook from my room. You can wait out here,” said Jaehyun, turning to head into the hallway where the rooms were. You were just about to get comfortable, maybe sit on his couch and chill as he invariably spent ages looking for your textbook, until the noise of a door opening startled you into attention.

“Oh hey,” said Jaehyun casually to a familiar silhouette that appeared into the hallway. “Y/N, this is my roommate, Leehan.”

You fought the urge to laugh out loud as you were met with the image of the stranger who, just a few weeks ago, was drilling his cock into you in some of the most mind-blowing sex of your life. When he first came out and hadn’t noticed you yet, he simply looked curious, as if he was coming out of his room to see what was causing the noise. But now, he barely fights off a smirk as he, too, processes your presence. All of this goes unnoticed by an unsuspecting Jaehyun, who proceeds into his room to rummage for your textbook.

Left alone with the boy who you can now identify as Leehan, you look him up and down, taking in his casual appearance and hair that has only grown longer in the time since you last met. He leans against his doorframe, looking you over with a gaze just as intrusive before saying, “So. Y/N, huh?”

Both of you laugh out loud at the same time, the humor and awkwardness of the situation hitting you all at once. The smile on Leehan’s face forces his eyes into crescent shapes that you faintly acknowledge as endearing. 

“Leehan,” you state with a grin, returning the preceding instance of acknowledging each other’s names. “It suits you. Although, I’m not sure it’s special enough to justify you withholding it.”

He shrugs indifferently at that, looking not even a little embarrassed as he replies jokingly, “What can I say? I prefer an air of anonymity when conducting my one-night stands.”

“Is that what that was?” you quip back with a tilt of your head. You know exactly that that’s what it was, but playing coy about it is how you save yourself from the embarrassment of having to address the weird sexual-tension-mixed-with-awkwardness that lingers between the two of you.

He runs a hand through his hair, maintaining the smile on his face as he shrugs noncommittally and replies, “I don’t know, I was too drunk to remember. In fact, who are you again?”

You both giggle, the atmosphere and banter between the two of you surprisingly easy, even outside the context of being drunk at a house party. You can faintly hear the sounds of Jaehyun’s rummaging becoming louder a few doors away, letting you know he’s no closer to finding your textbook. To your own internal surprise, a tiny part of you is relieved to have the time to see where this interaction with Leehan will go.

“So, you’re friends with Myeong Jaehyun?” he asks, gesturing his head in the direction of his roommate’s door just a few feet away. You notice how he slips his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and straightens his posture, a move somehow making him look 10x taller.

“It’s a love/hate sort of thing. But yes, I’ve known him since high school.”

The corner of Leehan’s lips switch into a half-smile, something foreboding in his tone as he then says, “Then I guess I should expect to see you much more often, Y/N.”

You raise a questioning eyebrow, and through a confused grin, ask, “Why do you say that so ominously?”

Leehan doesn’t answer at first and instead just maintains his piercing gaze on your face. He’s so strange, but what’s even stranger is that you find yourself attracted to him. Attracted to him and his weirdly crooked smile and habit of staring at people for longer than normal. His shaggy brown hair and pouty lips that you can’t forget were once meshed with yours.

“No reason,” he finally answers, and before you can question such obviously purposeful ambiguity, it’s just then that Jaehyun comes out with your textbook.

“Found your book,” he says, cradling the thick textbook underneath his arm. Looking over at Leehan, whose open-mouthed expression obviously reveals he was in the middle of saying something, he pauses. “You good, Leehan?”

Leehan maintains a passive expression, though the hints of a smirk just barely bleed onto his lips as he gestures his head in your direction. “Yeah, just talking to Y/N.”

Jaehuun exchanges an inquisitive look between the two of you. “You guys know each other?”

Not sure how to answer that question, you look to Leehan for any non-verbal guidance. And funnily enough, he looks to you with the same sort of expecting look, and now you’re staring at each other for longer than normal, fighting back laughter as a confused Jaehyun looks on.

“You could say that,” Leehan replies, nodding his head affirmatively.

part 2 coming soon

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[thisgirlnamedblusy]

My beautiful, stupid maid

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, Donna's POV

Word count: 5,080

Summary: I don't know why I don't want you to leave...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!! Requests are open!! I love you all!!!

I thought I like to be alone.

Everyone told me: you need some company. They don’t know me. My family, as they call themselves, care about me, or so they think they do. I don't need helpless maids running through the halls. I don't need to waste time on people I don't care about. My life doesn’t revolve around achieving power, around needing the feeling of being above others, like my siblings do.

I was always a lonely woman, and Mother Miranda's gift could change many things, but not that. Not that.

Angie was everything I needed.

I know what they think about me, what they talk about: “Poor Donna, she's so lonely…” “She's not mentally developed,” “she only cares about her stupid dolls…” Comments that they think I don't hear.

To be honest, I never cared about that. I know what I’m, what place in the world there was for me. My dolls, my house, my loneliness. Sometimes I lose my mind and cry without wanting to. Sometimes I want to end the meaninglessness that my life has become. Angie takes me away from those thoughts, she calms me down. I didn't need anything but to keep serene and continue existing.

At least I thought I didn't need anything else.

Then you showed up.

“Mother Miranda has granted me the honor of working for you, Lady Beneviento,” you said, appearing in my house, in my territory. In all this time, many villagers had been stupid enough to approach my house.

None of them returned. Thanks to the gift that was given to me, I could enjoy seeing the fear in their eyes, seeing how terrible their thoughts are. At first I had to admit that I was even afraid of myself.

The human mind is so fragile... How much people can suffer just with their own memories is incredible. For some reason, I didn't feel the need to torture you.

You seemed shy, but you didn't stop smiling, even with my fervent refusal. I couldn't disobey Mother Miranda, and I couldn't stop looking into those bright, strange eyes.

Angie was just a lost part of my consciousness, some thoughts that left my mind when I granted her the gift of life. She thought that for you to work for me was a good idea. Not me.

I didn't even know your name, but I opened the doors of my house to you. Who was I to argue with Mother Miranda's demands? Maybe I just got carried away with Angie.

I tried to avoid you. I didn't want to think that you were here, with me, that I was no longer alone. But you... You came to me, like a fly to a light trap, blinded, surely by your innocence, heading towards danger.

“Is everything to your liking, my lady?” “Would you like me to make you some tea, my lady?” Always those stupid questions. Hearing your voice was nothing but torture for me, a reminder that you were still there, that, no matter how much your presence bothered me, I was not capable of throwing you out or of making you hallucinate so you would run away from here, so you would never come back.

Silence was always my response, the affirmation that I didn't want you to be here. I have never had the ability or the need to talk to anyone, not even to my siblings. You were not going to be an exception.

My lady... What stupidity is that? I didn't want to be your lady. I didn't want you to consider yourself my property. I was alone, and I liked it.

Unfortunately, time only revealed your annoying presence. My routine is always the same and to trip with you was inevitable. I curse the Black Gods for turning my gaze towards yours.

What a maid... You were clumsy. You didn't know how to clean properly. You served no purpose other than to disrupt my existence. But I could never hurt you. It didn't matter how many vases you broke, how many times you burned the food. I felt incapable of scolding you, of throwing you out of my house.

Someday I woke up with the decision to put an end to that stuff, to make you suffer and disappear forever. Those thoughts faded the moment my hidden gaze met yours again.

That smile, those eyes... That messy hair and the dress that framed your figure made me back away, give you another chance. Chance? I didn't want you to be here. I never wanted you to come to my house. I didn't want to see your stupid smile. I didn't want to, and yet, I felt the need to see you.

Are you also a creation of Mother Miranda?

I know that she experiments on villagers, that she creates aberrations. Could you be one of them? What exactly has the Cadou done to you? Were you some kind of sorceress?

I've read too many books about witches, about mermaids who trick sailors into taking their souls. I always thought they were stupid stories to scare children. But the more I look at you, the more I think you're like a witch from those stories, or like a mermaid. Do you want to trick me into taking my soul? Too late, girl, it's been a long time since I had a soul.

“Good morning, my lady, did you sleep well?” you asked every morning. My ability to ignore you faltered over time. Anyway, I couldn't lose anything by nodding.

That was my worst mistake, making you believe that I was somehow communicating with you. That small gesture gave you more confidence in yourself. It made you believe that you could annoy me even more.

One night I tried to relax, sit by the fireplace and read another of those mermaid stories. Suddenly, I felt the need to know more about these creatures. Somehow, I was afraid that you were one of them. That the movement my head made, forcing me to follow you with my gaze, was some kind of spell from you.

“Excuse me, my lady,” you said to me, with the nerve to put a hand on my shoulder. I was startled, but I knew how to hide it so you wouldn't notice.

I nodded for you to talk, even though I didn't want you to, what is happening to me?

“I'm a bit bored, I was wondering if you could recommend me a book,” you said with your hands together in front of your body, with that formality that I knew you didn't have.

I was thoughtful for a moment. My hands shook as they held Homer's Odyssey. Your mermaid song was not going to be able to defeat me, you stupid maid.

“A book?” I asked without realizing it, letting out my voice, a voice that I hadn't used for a long time and that I didn't want to use precisely with you. I had to calm down, or you would trick me.

“Yes, well... Books about plants are interesting but...” You said, looking away from my hateful gaze.

Did you mean to joke? What made you think you could joke with me? Moron.

“I've been looking for something a bit more entertaining but I can't find anything. Also, most of them are in Italian and I… Well, I can’t read them.”

I shook my head. Fortunately, you couldn't see my face. A smile involuntarily spread across it.

“My family was Italian,” I said in a hoarse voice, giving her an absurd explanation, which she certainly didn’t deserve.

“Oh, okay,” you whispered nervously.

Why were you nervous? Oh, sure... In these three months and five days you hadn't heard me speak. I have a horrible voice, right? I'm sure you hate me even more now. Everybody hates me.

The light from the fireplace rested on your face, dancing in your eyes, on your skin. Have you hypnotized me? I couldn’t stop looking at you.

I sighed listlessly, looking for an excuse for your eyes to stop enchanting me. I got up from the couch, looking for something that would keep you entertained, quiet. Your voice is beautiful, but I don't want to hear it. Beautiful?

“For whom the bell tolls... Ernest Hemingway,” you said when I finally gave you a book so you would leave me alone. You just had to take the damn book and get out of my sight. It wasn't that difficult, was it? “It’s a good one?”

“Yes, it is,” I responded with a dry throat, nervous about the subtle contact my hand made brushing against yours. When I touched you, the porcelain of my dolls came to my mind. Soft, delicate…

“Thank you, I promise that tomorrow I won't burn the toast,” you said amused, were you trying to make me laugh? Good luck with that.

Something had changed in your attitude. I wondered if hearing me talk had anything to do with it. I didn't want you to be here. I hate you, stupid maid.

Time passed slowly. I found myself counting the days, the hours you spent with me. Your overconfidence was disgusting. Some nights, you sat next to me, reading that book, commenting each of the things that seemed curious to you. I have already read it, you silly maid. I don't need to hear your... Your beautiful voice.

I've never been right in the head, I know that. Since I was little I had problems. Problems with my appearance, with people... I have never gotten over it and I never will. My past is a field of thorns that stick into my skin every night when I try to sleep.

But... My demons were not keeping me awake, your eyes were, those two beautiful pearls that you had on your face, ones that I couldn't stop looking at. What are you doing to me? What is happening to me? I feel weak, tired. I'm not hungry, I'm not sleepy. I don't feel like getting out of my bed, to face your gaze again.

Sitting at my old dressing table, I look at my deformed face in a mirror. I'm a monster. I should have gotten used to seeing myself like that, to having that horrible thing on my face, just as I got used to the changes in my body when I became Mother Miranda's daughter.

I felt my heart sink as I looked at myself in that mirror. A deformed monster, a strange creature, an aberration. Those statements that were going through my head were more present than ever.

“What's wrong, Donna?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap. My sweet and faithful Angie, I don't know what I would have done without you.

“I'm a monster, Angie,” I murmured, with a tear running down my untouched cheek. I can't tell how many times I have burst into tears because of that. That night was different.

“No, no, that's not true,” the doll said. I wish I could believe her words. Angie was my creation. She was part of my consciousness. She would never hurt me... I don't even know what Angie is exactly anymore. “The maid likes you…”

“What?” I said startled.

I know Angie wanted to make me feel better, but she was never particularly good at it.

She couldn't lie to me. She didn't have the ability to do so.

Do you like me? What nonsense. I know you don’t. I know it's impossible. Anyway…why am I worried? Why I didn’t stop thinking about those words?

Love is a luxury that I could never enjoy. Loving a woman, being loved... Those were just fantasies in my head, a fictitious feeling that, like mermaids, only lived in my books.

Every day I kept seeing your stupid… Beautiful… Smile. You were still here, you hadn't left. I couldn't say when I started to worry about you leaving. I didn’t want you to be here but... I didn't want you to leave. I had never felt so many contradictions at the same time. I had never suffered so many anxiety attacks in the safety of my room.

You never saw me lose my temper. I didn't want you to see me like that. For some reason, I didn't want to.

I tried to push you away, but you were getting closer, touching me with your dress, touching my hand when you handed me a cup of tea. Were you really the one who did it? Was my hand subtly caressing your skin? It didn't seem to bother you either.

You were still here, like every day, torturing me with your eyes, with your smile, with your movements when you walked near me. Your gaze was tender and respectful, but your body wasn’t. Your body caused sensations that I always ignored in me.

“That doll is beautiful, Donna,” you whispered, taking my tea to the workshop. That place was always a refuge, the only place in the house where my thoughts were not focused on you.

“Thank you,” I said. To let my voice speak for me didn’t take long. I had been doing it for so long that I no longer stopped to think why it wasn't difficult for me to do it with you.

“Look, it has my eyes,” you said amused, gently picking up the newly made doll.

A heaviness in my head said there was something wrong. Yes, you were right. That damn doll had your beautiful eyes. Wait, shouldn't I say: That beautiful doll had your damn eyes?

“Yes, well, I...” I stammered, confused. I hadn't even realized it. Even without thinking about you, I was doing it. Even when I made my dolls, I put your same hair to them, your eyes, the marks that I could see on your skin… I was no longer safe even in my own workshop.

“It's very nice,” you whispered, returning the doll to me with a sigh. “Anyway, I think I should start making the soup… You liked it with a bit of dill, right?”

“Yes... I... Yes, yes,” I stammered, nodding, but without looking at your face. I was just looking at the doll, at your vivid portrait made unconsciously. I could no longer deny how obsessed I was with you, that I thought about you even without doing it.

I refused to believe it was love or anything like that. At night I tossed and turned in bed, thinking about what spell you had used on me. Your eyes stopped appearing in my nightmares, and now they were present in my most beautiful dreams. In them I see you, I see us together, close, with our hands intertwined. They were just dreams... Dreams in which I don't have that horrible thing on my face, in which your eyes shine when you look at me, in which your lips... In which your lips are too close to mine.

I felt unable to ignore the sensations that the mere fact of being close to you caused me. Love is something absurd, a waste of time. Everyone wants to hurt you, Donna, don't forget that.

My head fought with my heart, with the trembling of my hands when I was close to yours. You always were here with that smile, with that look, making me unable to think about anything but in your lips on mine, in your body very close to mine.

The nights got worse. Drawing your image in my thoughts usually helped me to stay calm and sleep, dreaming about you. Not anymore. I can no longer let myself be carried away by my feelings. The sensations were different, physical, overwhelming. I no longer imagined your smile, or a simple kiss. No, now your body was naked next to mine, now my caresses no longer wandered over your face, but over your chest, your waist, your legs…

Lust is a sin, or so my parents said. I was never ignorant, or stupid. My body had needs, and even more so after the change that Cadou produced in me. I thought it was routine, something necessary...

One more task to be calm, to relax. My mind traveled to unknown places, imagining faceless women while I soothed myself with my hands. It was pleasant, but empty, lacking in feelings or the desire to do it. I simply wanted to relieve my body so that my mind wouldn't become destabilized.

That night, my body was calling me again. No matter how much I tried to get my excitement to relax, I wasn't able to do so. I wanted something, my body wanted something, and I had to give that to it.

My hands moved down my nightclothes to my trembling erection, stroking it gently. Maybe it was my impression, but I could feel much more than other times... The difference? There were no longer faceless women in my head or erotic stories hidden in one of my books. I was thinking about you.

I felt the need to end that discomfort between my legs as quickly as possible and for some reason, I thought that including you in my lascivious thoughts might help. Quite the opposite. The pleasure of my hand going up and down, the gasps that came out of my mouth involuntarily made me want to go slower. I wanted to keep thinking about what it would be like to be inside of you, to hear you moan with your mermaid voice, to see you closing those bright eyes while I made you mine.

My movements were fast, but intense. My head was imagining how good it would feel to have the images in my head come true. To release myself didn't take long, but I felt I enjoyed doing it too much.

Cleaning myself in the bathroom, I looked the mirror again. My face was red and my breathing was labored. I wiped my hands with a towel and stood there, looking at my reflection, feeling a pang in my heart at the thought that everything I dream of were just fantasies.

I felt guilty for enjoying myself at your expense, for masturbating thinking about you, but... I also felt frustrated by how absurd was to think about how far my feelings had gone. So much so that I lost the little decency I had, the deal I made with myself not to fall in love, not to feel the need to hug a human body instead of a porcelain doll.

In my incipient desperation, I called my sister Alcina, telling her everything that was happening to me. Angie gave me nothing but absurd advices. I needed the opinion of someone more... Experienced.

It was of no use to me. According to her, my need to make that stupid maid mine was absurd. “You are a powerful woman, Donna. If you want something from that girl, just take it. She will never contradict you, for her own sake.”

Everything was so easy for a woman like Alcina...

A dark part of my mind seriously considered following her advice. I never felt remorse for torturing those stupid villagers, why would I feel remorse for taking what I want to make mine?

But no, that part of me that I'm ashamed of had to shut up. I couldn't just… No, I couldn't do it. I didn't want to do it, but I wanted to. I wanted you in an unbearable way.

The nights were torture, the days were even worse. At least at night I just had to imagine you, I didn't have to feel you, I didn't have to touch your hand. Yes, you kept rubbing your hand with mine. Have you ever done that? It was me? I wouldn't know how to answer. I would like to ask you, but I don't dare to do it.

You are killing me, you stupid, beautiful maid. You kill me slowly, you make me fall in love with you without mercy, you look at me, you talk to me... You are here with me. I’m here with you. You don't want to leave. I don't want you to leave.

One afternoon, I tried to escape from my carnal desires, from the feelings that filled my head. I was painting dolls, sewing without rest. I had been doing it for hours, I didn't know how many.

“Sorry for bothering you,” you said politely, entering disrespectfully, interrupting my bitterness.

“What do you want? I'm busy,” my words were cold, lacking that softness with which they always spoke to you.

“I'm sorry, it's just that... It's just that I... I have to clean this up. It's the last room before being able to rest,” you said shyly. Was it me or your cheeks were blushing? What were you thinking about? You were thinking about another way to fool me? Stop it. You've already done it. I feel that if I were a sailor, I would already be drifting, desperately searching to hear your siren song again.

“Okay,” I said briefly, avoiding your tender smile, looking at that doll, looking at your eyes on it again.

As you moved around my workshop, my clumsy and trembling hands made the task of painting correctly impossible. With you here, to concentrate was impossible for me.

My thoughts began to spin out of control as I tilted my head to look at you. There you were, leaning over one of the dusty tables. You looked at me, like you knew I was doing the same thing. I looked away and squeezed my hands tightly.

If you want something from her, just take it.

The phrase my sister said appeared in my head suddenly, treacherously, just at the moment when my crazy gaze was directed at the small spot that you had very close to your neckline. One I couldn't forget.

My actions took control of my body, causing me to get up slowly, like a shadow that stalks you without realizing it.

I wanted to tell you so many things... I wanted to be able to talk to you about my feelings before approaching you from behind, running a hand through your hair, brushing it away from your shoulders.

You stood still, but you didn't complain, you didn't turn around and slap me for my impudence. No, you seemed like butter under my touch, under my hands on your shoulders, on your neck.

An unexpected gasp left your lips as I got closer and closer, feeling your subtle but intoxicating perfume, feeling the heat of your body passing through my dress.

“I can't stop thinking about you...” I whispered without meaning to, confessing an undeniable truth, confessing that you are not the stupid maid that I didn’t want to have. You were the girl I wanted to love.

“Donna...” You sighed, when I removed the veil from my face to place my lips on your pale skin, behind your perfect ear.

When I started to be just Donna to you? What about the my lady thing?

Kissing your skin was like a cold breeze on a hot day, like laughing when you're sad. It was a feeling of relief, of pleasure.

Even being behind you, I could feel your heavy breathing. What did you feel? Were you in hell or in paradise?

I couldn't know and I didn't want to know. My hands worked on their own, covering every inch of your body while my mouth was cruel to your neck.

Having your chest in my hands, passing my fingers through the fabric that covered your breasts... All that things I imagined at night were mine in that moment. A part of my conscience was screaming for me to stop, to be sure that you wanted to do it. No, dear maid, I wasn’t going to ask.

You turned around slowly, letting my hands continue roaming your body. You weren't supposed to do that. You were supposed to run away.

“I think about you too...” You whispered, moving my black veil aside. There was nothing to fear anymore. You would be with me or you would disappear from my life. My face didn't matter. I didn’t care if you thought I was a monster. I was willing to force you.

Your smile remained tender, relaxed at the sight of my exposed face. There was no horror in your eyes, disgust in your gaze. No, there was only… Peace, tranquility, and that smile that kept me awake at nights.

“You are even more beautiful than I imagined,” you said, bringing your hand to my deformed cheek, running your fingers over my scar, as if it were nothing, as if it were of no importance to you.

I grabbed your wrist to stop you before leaning towards you, before placing my lips on yours. I had never kissed anyone and I was thankful I hadn't. Your kiss was my first one.

Little by little I moved closer, making your back collide with the edge of the table. I couldn't stop kissing you. I didn't want to stop kissing you. Your lips were addictive. They were everything I had imagined. Your body against mine, your hands going down my waist, you and me...

I could no longer contain my desire to make you mine, to love you, to make love you. I was willing to force you to do it, to not listen to your screams, to make you run away. I didn't have to. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who rubbed my hands with yours. You did it too.

My need to love you was put before romance, caresses, kisses and affectionate whispers in your ear. I had spent too much time thinking about how I felt about you. I didn't want to tell you, I wanted to show you.

I lifted your body by your legs, sitting you on the table, drowning in your kisses, letting my hands touch whatever they wanted... Just like yours. I felt like such a simple act was more than enough to feel my arousal rubbing against my underwear. You were irresistible, a goddess, a mermaid, a witch... But above all, you were going to be mine.

I looked at you, wishing it wasn't a dream and you were really there. You smiled again. What have you done to me? What did I do to you? Have you fooled me? Have I tricked you? Did you also think of me as if I were a mermaid?

Absurd questions that my body didn't have time for. I needed you, my beautiful maid. With a hasty movement, I put my hands into your dress while you hung around my neck, making to concentrate on loving you harder for me, kissing me eagerly, with a desire that I was unaware of.

Your underwear disappeared around your ankles as your hands left my neck, to play on my chest, to free me from my own clothes. Were you in a hurry as I was?

When I finally had access to you, my body moved on its own, lifting your legs slightly, remaining enthralled by those hidden corners of your body.

 You didn't say anything about what was between my legs. You just looked at it curiously. I don't like being looked at, tesoro, you should know that.

You bit your lip, but you didn't say anything. You just pulled me so that my erection rubbed against your wetness. There was nothing else to say, but there were a lot of things to do.

I entered you hastily, feeling a wave of unimaginable pleasure. I was not delicate, nor kind. I didn't know if someone had ever loved you, I didn't want to know either. Your walls hugged me tightly, keeping me right where you wanted, making you moan in a way that I already knew would drive me crazy.

You had more clothes than in my dreams, but the sensations you sent to my body every time they moved exceeded my expectations. You hugged me so well... You took it so well... You were perfect, as if your body was made just for me.

“Don't stop, Donna...” You begged, writhing on that table. My thrusts had relaxed as I looked at you, as I closely admired your beauty without the veil between us. I just shook my head, kissing you passionately as my hips resumed their movements.

“I think... I think I love you...” I whispered with a voice low enough so you couldn't hear it, camouflaging it between our moans. There came a time when I decided to close my eye and not look at you anymore.

Behind you, the dolls that I made rested, looking at me. They were judging me. I wasn't going to let my problems ruin that moment. My sick mind was not going to stop me from continuing to make love to you.

“My God, Donna... I'm so close...” You murmured, ignoring my declaration of love. Why would I want you to answer me? I said it in a way I which you wouldn't hear me.

My hips went out of control and my arms hugged your body, keeping it close to me, not letting you stop hugging me with your walls, not letting me stop making my way inside of you.

I stopped just when the pleasure became unbearable, letting my heat flood inside you, releasing myself inside you, making you mine forever.

You panted, exhausted. Your nails had scratched my skin as I cum. Did that mean you did it too?

“I think... I think I love you too,” you murmured, responding late to my statement, to my confession, hugging me, kissing me with affection, with that affection that I lacked.

“Don’t dare to leave,” I said with a dark voice, before consuming myself again in your kisses.

“I won't do it,” you answered on my lips, keeping me inside of you, not wanting to separate you from me.

I thought I liked being alone, but now I know I couldn't live without you.

[dottydoesstuff]

You make me feel alive (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Based on the song Rio by Duran Duran

can be read as a part one to this fic or on its own

Idiots in love, mutual pining, light angst, background Jancy, reader is described to wear a bikini.

ps. a game & watch is like the 80s version of a nintendo DS

3.4k words <3

Steve didn't know when his all consuming infatuation with you began. Maybe it had alway been there, the throat tightening, cheek blushing , knee wobbling, soul crushing feeling that only your presence seemed to elicit. But it was getting rather annoying.

Don't get him wrong we wouldn't trade his friendship with you for the world but constantly having to hold himself back from confessing his undying love for you or some other irreversible truth that would surely ruin your friendship was exhausting.

The sun had been beating down on Hawkins unrelentingly for weeks, pushing the small town and its residents to the brink of melting and so to avoid such a fate, plans had been made amongst your group to drive up to lake Michigan.

Steve of course was ​​unwillingly nominated to drive as well as Nancy so the group was split between his BWM and Nancy's moms borrowed station wagon. A fight had ensued that morning when the group was choosing who to ride with with each option having its pros and cons. Steve's car had the better air-con which was a necessary luxury in the Indiana summer but Nancy lets other people pick the music unlike Steve who cites that he's driving so he gets to choose the radio station. Eventually (and after much debate) you, Robin, Eddie and Dustin rode with Steve and everyone else crammed into Nancy's car. 

The drive was only a few hours and the group had set off early to beat the traffic, or had attempted to, but apparently some people (Eddie) needed their beauty sleep. Despite the air-con remaining on full blast, the heat couldn't be ousted causing the road up ahead to become a mirage. However the heat wasn't on the forefront of Steve's mind, instead his focus was pulled toward the hushed conversation taking place between you and Eddie in the backseat. He couldn't make out what either of you were saying but he could hear your quiet giggles and see that due to the lack of space, thanks to Dustin calling shotgun, Eddie and you were sitting very close together. Eddie, ever the gentleman, had taken the middle seat with you and Robin on either side. Robin had zonked out within the first 20 minutes and had monopolised all of her and most of Eddie's seats meaning Eddie was currently crowding your space, not that you seemed to mind, which infuriated steve to no end, not that he could say anything about it because steve wasn't your boyfriend so had no right to comment on the situation however this realisation only infuriated him further.

Thankfully Dustin hadn't noticed Steve's indignation despite him practically having steam shooting from his ears, although Steve could’ve grown a second head and Dustin wouldn't have noticed as he was too busy playing mario bros on his game & watch, which he was surprisingly bad at. 

“Son of a bitch”

Steve turned to see Dustin shoving his game & watch back into his backpack after losing yet again.

“It's probably rigged anyway plus my jump buttons jammed so it’s not even my fault” Dustin sighed in defeat as he slumped back into the seat with his arms crossed.

“Maybe you're just shit” Eddie teased whilst shoving another handful of Doritos into his mouth.

Dustin turned his head to glare at Eddie as you slapped him on the arm.“And since when were you so good a mario munson?” you asked whilst poking him in the chest.

Eddie grabbed your finger as he retorted “since birth, obviously”.

Dustin rolled his eyes “Mario wasn't around in the prehistoric age dickhead”.

Yet another argument ensued. 

The snarky comments and constant touching between you and Eddie bothered Steve then it occurred to him, was Eddie flirting with you? The question bounced around in Steve's head until a much worse realisation overtook it. Were you flirting with Eddie ??? His knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the steering wheel as jealousy washed over him, he knew he shouldn't have been jealous, you and Eddie were both single and neither of you knew that Steve was hopelessly in love with you … or something less intense to that effect. 

“-and if you think that i'm going to let you even touch my game & watch with your nasty ass Dorito fingers, you're insane” 

“Ugh say it don't spray it” Eddie mumbled as he wiped his cheek with his sleeve.

Steve was still trying to figure out a way to murder Eddie and make it look like an accident when you leaned forward to ask how much longer the trip was. Your gentle smile as you made eye contact with him through the mirror made him forget you even asked him a question until you said “stevie ?”.

He felt his face heat up at the use of the nickname that he claimed he hated. Because he did hate it, when it was used by anyone other than you.

“Uhh probably like another half hour” 

You nodded absentmindedly as you settled back into your seat and pulled a book from your bag.

The half hour passed fairly quickly with the only hiccup being when Eddie and Dustin started arguing yet again because Dustin wouldn't share his nerds which resulted in Eddie trying to snatch the whole pack and spilled them everywhere.

As they approached Porter beach the busier it became, Steve started to wonder if they would ever find somewhere to park. Eventually they found a spot next to a parking meter which wasn't too far from the beach, Steve got out to pay only to realise he had no change. “Oh shit” Steve mumbled while patting his shorts pockets.

“What?” you tilted your head at him as you asked. You were still sitting in the car with the door open rubbing suncream on your legs. Steve had to consciously hold himself back from asking if you wanted him to do it for you, partly because he liked helping you and partly for more selfish reasons. Instead he shook his head as if to physically expel the thought from his mind.

“Do you have any change?” he asked sheepishly. 

“Uhh, oh you know I think I do” you wiped any excess suncream on your top and grabbed your bag to start searching through it.

“How much do you need?” you looked up at him with a smile when you said it. It was subconscious, the way you always smile at Steve when you talk to him, he brings it out in you.

Steve looks down to check the price on the meter “A buck twenty-five” 

“Aha, here you go” you pull the dollar bill and coins out of your purse and hand it to steve. 

Your fingers brushing up against his made you both dizzy. Instead of either of you acknowledging the feeling Steve turned away to put the money in the meter and you finish putting on your suncream and decide it would definitely be safer to ask Robin to do your back because having Steve rub his hands all over your back could be something you never recover from.

As Steve looked around it became apparent that every family in Indiana had had the same idea to visit the lake, hell it looked like every family in the goddamn midwest was currently lying out on their beach towels taking advantage of the sunshine.   

“Looks like we have some competition” Eddie said as he sauntered up beside Steve and slung his arm around his shoulders.

Steve looked at Eddie alarmed, not having realised the boy was talking about space on the beach for them to sit and not competition for your attention. Steve wasn't sure why his mind had jumped straight to you, but it was becoming a common occurrence. 

He saw Nancy and the rest of the group walking toward them as him and Eddie finished pulling all the bags out the trunk. Steve set yours, Robins and his stuff aside from him to carry and called the other two over to get their stuff.

“Jesus we have a lot of shit” Eddie murmured to nobody in particular.

You and Robin were crouched down trying to get all the nerds out of Steve's car as Robin lectured Dustin about having food fights in an enclosed space. You noticed that Steve had slung your bag over his shoulder and so you walked up beside him to knock against his arm as a thank you, the two of you were good at that, communicating without words. Steve always knew what you were thinking, well most of the time he did, you hoped against hope that he had not clued in on your very obvious, very embarrassing crush on him.

“Okay, are we all ready ?” Nancy asked as she effortlessly took on the leader role which she claimed to hate doing but refused to relinquish as no one else met her standards. Steve would argue he could do it as he led a group of preteens through the demodog tunnels with no fatalities but she'd probably argue that letting them go into the tunnels in the first place was incredibly idiotic. 

It took them a good twenty minutes to find a patch of sand that wasn't covered by sun burnt middle aged women or children digging holes. 

You and robin walked arm in arm mostly to stop robin falling due to her perpetual clumsiness. Steve, Eddie and Jonathan were given the heavy stuff, normally you would argue how it was inherently sexist to give the men the heavy things but it was hot out and carrying like a bajillion bags would only make it worse so you decide to cut your losses. The teens all walk in a group behind you, all complaining about the long walk and the sand and how they want to go swimming now and how their bags are heavy. Nancy looks fed up with them already and you can't blame her.

Finally you spot somewhere to set up.

“How about over there?” you asked as you pointed at a relatively shady but most importantly empty space on the beach.

“Oh thank god. I think my arms are about to drop off” Eddie said as he made his way over carrying the cooler with him. 

You paid no attention to Eddie's dramatics as you were admiring a now shirtless Steve. The scattering of moles on his back paired with how his muscles were flexed due to him carrying about 5 peoples bags was mouthwatering. You would have stood there ogling all day had Jonathan not nudged you whilst giving you a knowing smirk. You gave him a shy smile and vowed to blame the heat if anyone asked why your face had gone red whilst running to catch up with the group. 

Once all the blankets were laid and Robin had coerced you into rubbing a thick layer of suncream on her back due to her aptitude for burning you could finally take your shirt off to cool down revealing your bikini underneath. Had you been paying attention you would've seen Steve watching you intently with a slight blush across his face which he, like you, would swear was sunburn. You then would have seen Eddie catch Steves staring and wiggle his eyebrows at him wittingly which caused Steve to have no choice but to throw a handful of sand at him. 

“my HAIR. What the fuck Steve” Eddie gasped as he tried to shake the sand out.

Max and El screamed as Eddie's head shaking covered them with sand.

“Stop, Eddie stop that's not doing anything” you giggled as you reached your hands into his hair to brush out any remaining sand.

“See Steven this is true friendship, right here” he said as he gestured to you.

Steve's jealousy had reached an all time high. He thought seeking his revenge against Eddie would make him feel better however it had backfired ridiculously and though he knew it wasn't Eddie's fault and he had no way of knowing Steve liked you that didn’t mean Steve wanted to strangle him any less. Okay maybe that's a bit dramatic, Eddie was still his friend and all he just wished you were running your fingers through his hair not Eddies. 

“Okay I think that's all of it” you say whilst smiling at Eddie.

“Thanks, I owe ya” he says with a wink.

“If you two are done flirting, can we go swim now ?” Mike mocks.

You blush even harder and Eddie squawks, “I feel sorry for El if you think that was flirting”.

Mike rolls his eyes as Max joins in with taunting him.

“Okay okay, I want all of you to be wearing suncream, to stay near where we are and not to go too deep. Got it?” Nancy gives them all a good long stare as they murmur their agreements. 

Nancy nods her head and they take it as a sign to go. All of them tripping over one another, desperate to swim. Nearly all of them made it to the water without face planting in the sand.

Once all the teens had gone into the water, without missing a beat, robin pulled the cooler in closer. 

“Okay, who wants what? '' she asks while digging around inside “there's beer, cherry ice cream, soda if you’re boring and more beer” she says with a hinting glint in her eye.

“Oh so this is what teachers mean when they talk about peer pressure” you taunt with a grin.

“No no, no pressure at alllll” she says with little to no sincerity.

“Well some of us have to drive you all back” Nancy adds whilst gesturing to herself and Steve.

“Go on Nance you have one. I can drive on the way back” Jonathan offers. 

“No, i-” She considers it for a moment before huffing out a breath. “no it's fine. Someone needs to watch those lot” she says as she nods toward the water where Lucas, Will , Mike and Dustin were trying (and failing) to make a human ladder whilst Max and El played mermaids.

“Nance believe it or not, most of us are somewhat competent” Steve says whilst side eyeing Eddie. 

Eddie looks thoroughly offended before smirking and replying “that's a terrible thing to say Steve I thought she was your best friend” whilst wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pretending to comfort you. 

Steve gives Eddie a sarcastic smile before replying “I meant you dickhead”

Eddie gasps loudly knowing full well Steve had meant him. 

Steve pushes Eddie away from you and drags you into his side whilst wrapping his arm around your back 

“She's the most competent out of all of us”

Now it was Nancy's turn to be offended. But before any eye poking and hair pulling started Jonathan placed a can in Nancy's hand and kissed her cheek. 

“Alright let's get this partay started !” Robin declared before downing half a can of beer then coughing when she inevitably choked. She looked back up at all your bemused faces and said “what? we’re on vacation, live a little you guys” 

“Yeah, yeah come on guys” Eddie agrees as he reaches for his can of beer, downs the whole can and scrunches the metal in his hand then throws the can back into the cooler and finishes with a loud whoop. You and Steve share an amused look and Nancy looks a little frightened.

“I think i'll just stick to sipping” she retorts 

Robin and Eddie start booing until Jonathan throws Eddie's crumpled up can at them. 

You're still glued to Steve's side and would be quite content to stay there for the rest of the afternoon, if not eternity. He reaches into the cooler and grabs a can of beer and a can of soda before opening the beer and handing it to you. You thank him with, in his opinion, a glowing smile which he would like to believe is reserved especially for him. 

The conversation moves on and with the more you drink the more your mind seems to wonder. The afternoon passes by as you're deep in thought, passively adding to the conversation when you feel like it. The teens appear and then disappear sporadically as the hours pass, even Eddie and Jonathan were persuaded to get into the water. As the sun begins to set your mind settles on how warm Steve feels next to you, how nice his hand feels on your waist and how despite the sweltering heat you have no desire to move away from him. He looks over to check on you, smiling as he meets your eye.

“You good?” he asks quietly, his face mere inches from yours.

Before you can reply you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and your body is ripped from steves as you're hauled to your feet by a now very tipsy Robin.

You mourn the comfort and warmth you just lost and look at Steve apologetically. Robin pays no mind and drags you into the open space next to where you’re all sat.

“Dance with meee” her words are slurred and you can't help but think about the killer headache to poor girl will wake up with tomorrow.

“Robs we have no music” you giggle as you place your hands on her arms, half to ‘dance’ with her and half to keep her upright. 

“That never stopped anyone”

You don't quite agree with her statement but go along with it anyway grabbing her hands and jumping in circles with her in the sand. You make sure not to push it as her being sick is the last thing anyone wants. You twist and turn, stumbling in the sand and catching robin numerous times due to her incoordination being heightened by the alcohol.  She spins you in a circle and you feel the effects on the beer you've been sipping, you feel a haze of contentment wash over you as you continue to sway in the setting sun with a look of bliss on your face and Robin goes to find her next victim. 

Steve watches the entire ordeal and thinks that you've never looked more beautiful. Even with a small glob of suncream on your shoulder that you missed when rubbing it in and a sheen of sweat covering your skin, you shine. If he could look at you like this forever he'd be more than content. He damns himself for not bringing a camera but he supposes it wouldn't be able to capture the dazzle in your eye or the sway of your hips. You break from your dancing for a second to turn to Steve and give him the widest most shining smile he'd ever seen, he waved back at you and you stuck your tongue out at him and turned back to dancing as Steve chuckled softly to himself.

“We’re just friends y’know” Eddie's voice pulled Steve from his thoughts as he turned to look at the boy next to him. “I just- look I know you like her and all and I don't want any” Eddie pauses to think of the right thing to say  “...hostility between us. She's great, really great but were just friends”

“What Eddie, I don't-” he laughs awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck “I have no idea what you're talking about.” 

“Steve” 

Eddie meets Steve's eyes with a sad look on his face.

“The way you look at her, the way you were just looking at her. You'd be blind not to notice it”

“Notice what ?” Steve asks in a small voice, already knowing the answer.

“Love”

Steve looks back to where Nancy, you and Robin were all dancing and laughing in the sunset and thinks that maybe the throat tightening, cheek blushing, knee wobbling, soul crushing feeling that only your presence seemed to elicit, was something he couldn't bear to live without. It's like you had reached into his chest and carved your name onto his heart to command it to beat only for you, and the pain it had caused him was glorious. He decided then and there that keeping you by his side was his number one priority, no matter if that meant keeping his feelings to himself as long as you were around he would be okay.

[dante-mightdie]

So what exactly is going on in this cult? Like how did it start. Is it a doomsday cult? Sex cult? Just curious.

so at some point I wanna write a little lore piece explaining the beliefs, origin and history of the cult because I feel like I do a really bad job at explaining that in my writing

I think it’s more like “sanctuary on earth” and “living your life to your fullest purpose” kind of vibes if that makes sense

It’s not a sex cult but lowkey I was thinking of like… price and his key members (i.e him, simon, kyle, and johnny), along with their wives having a secret little sex cult together behind closed doors 👀 maybe you all have one small item that bonds you together, a ring or tattoo on your wrist or something

idk maybe that’s weird and people aren’t into it but I just keep thinking about john having a basement in his home dedicated to being a place for you all to act out your sexual desires on each other and each other only 🫠

[upat4amwiththemoon]

came up with this idea and now i can't get it out of my head lol so nat saves and adopts a teenage reader but when yelena finally meets the reader she hates her guts bc she feels like nat loves her more/has replaced her ( i imagine yelena in her 20s so not that much older than the reader) and like during a sparring session or something yelena takes it too far and like breaks the reader's arm so nat obviously blows up at her but then they eventually talk about their feelings and then yelena apologizes to the reader for acting so immature and cruel to them

Fight for affection

Summary: aka jealous Yelena has a one sided fight with a teenager.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader, sisters Natasha Romanoff x Yelena Belova, Yelena Belova x teen!reader

Warnings: mean Yelena, purposeful hurting

Word count: 1983

a/n: best sister ever

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @sayah13 @strangegardentaco @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Very nervous Y/N sits on the couch, moving her leg up and down as she waits for Yelena to arrive. She has never met the woman before, but Natasha has been waiting to introduce her two favourite people to each other, so, once Yelena found a free day to come over, they immediately made plans.

It doesn’t take long for Yelena’s car to park on the driveway. Natasha goes to open the door right away, while Y/N waits in the living room, taking some deep breaths to calm herself down.

She can hear the two talking, though she isn’t fully paying attention to it. Once they start walking towards her, she stands up with a smile on her face.

Natasha and Yelena stand before her, the latter looking confused. “Yelena, this is Y/N.” She gestures at the teen with a smile.

“Hi.”

There’s a silence. “She isn’t a baby?” Yelena whispers to Natasha, but due to their closeness Y/N can hear it clearly.

Now it’s Natasha’s turn to look confused. “Why would she be a baby?”

“I thought you adopted a baby.”

“I specifically told you I adopted a teenage girl.” An annoyance grows in Natasha, not wanting to have this kind of conversation in front of her daughter.

Yelena scoffs. “Well, you can’t blame me for not hearing that. You said you adopted someone, and then I lost focus because I started thinking what to buy to a baby.”

Natasha lets out a harsh breath, but she brings a smile to her face once she notices Y/N’s tense body language. “Well, she’s not a baby.” She whispers quickly before going to set her arm over Y/N’s shoulders, bringing her closer. “This is Y/N, she is 16 years old, and I adopted her.” A proud smile adorns her face as she looks down at her daughter.

“Hi.” She says again, bringing a slightly shaky hand forward. “It’s nice to meet you, Yelena.”

A tense silence follows. Yelena has a frown on her face, but it disappears quickly when she glances at Natasha. “Hey, you too.” Her voice doesn’t match the enthusiasm that Y/N has and the hand shake feels very forceful.

They move on quickly, going to sit down on the couch to talk. For the rest of the time they’re together, Yelena has a subtle glare fixed on Y/N, especially whenever Natasha touches her.

Her sister speaks so highly of this teenager, but Yelena doesn’t see what’s so great about her that she doesn’t have. They’re both grew up in a bad place, they both know how to fight, though Yelena would bet her whole fortune she’s better at it, and they were saved by Natasha. The biggest difference they have, is that Natasha has known Yelena so much longer. So, why does it seem like she care for the teenager more than her?

Once Yelena starts to leave, she is in a sour mood. It’s like the younger girl is flaunting Natasha’s love and care in front of her face.

“-sit us soon again?”

She lifts her head to look at Natasha. “Huh?”

Natasha lets out a laugh. “Will you come visit us soon again?”

“Right.” She sighs. “Maybe. I have a busy schedule.”

“Okay, we’ll see you at the compound some time then.” Natasha hugs Yelena. “Bye bye.”

“Bye, sestra.”

“Bye!” Y/N waves, half of her body hidden behind Natasha.

Yelena walks to her car, completely ignoring her.

The next time they meet up is at the Avengers Compound, and Yelena’s feelings have not changed. If anything, her hatred and jealousy have grown while having time to wallow in those feelings alone.

Natasha and Yelena are talking in the compound’s living room, while Y/N is sitting in silence, only following the conversation from the sidelines. She can feel Yelena’s dislike, but she is too afraid to comment on it.

“Hey, Nat?” Steve pops up from the hallway. “Could you help me out with a report now that you’re here?”

“Of course,” she stands up, “I’ll be back soon.”

The smile on Yelena’s face disappears when she notices the assurance was given to Y/N instead of herself. The jealousy bubbles to the surface once again.

“Y/N.”

Her wide eyes snap to Yelena. This is the first time she has been talked to by Yelena since they first met. “Yeah?” There’s a sliver of nervousness in her voice. A sliver, that Yelena can hear.

“Do you want to train together to pass the time?”

“Uhm,” she doesn’t, “I guess so.”

“Great!” The grin on Yelena’s face is unmistakable. “Follow me,” they start walking towards the training room, “the compound has the best supplies to train anything and everything you want.”

Once they get into the training room, Yelena leads Y/N straight to the mat placed on the middle of the room. Y/N feels the mat under her feet, it’s soft enough to make landings bearable, but it won’t take the pain completely away.

“You were trained in hand to hand combat when you were at HYDRA, yes?”

Y/N’s face screws up at the mention of the organization she was saved from. “Yes.”

Yelena gets into position, her hands raised and feet apart. “Good, then this won’t be a problem for you.” Before Y/N has time to prepare herself, Yelena is already lunging at her.

With a blink of an eye, she is on the ground. Y/N groans, looking up at Yelena with a frown.

“Come on!” Yelena claps her hands together. “Up, up, you gotta be ready.”

Y/N takes a breath and stands up, this time getting into position before Yelena can fully surprise her.

They start sparring.

It’s more like fighting, at least on Yelena’s side.

Y/N is good at fighting, but Yelena is better. She is older, she is bigger, and she was in the Red Room for a long time.

She gets slammed to the mat two more times before she starts panting, her hands on her knees. “I think I’m done.” Her voice comes out as a mumble.

“Come on! Don’t be a party pooper.” Yelena circles around her. “One more round, this time like you mean it.”

Y/N doesn’t have time to disagree. She desperately fight back against Yelena’s onslaught of hits and kicks.

After five minutes, she gets dropped to the ground, again.

She lays there on the ground, her breathing heavy and laboured. But Yelena doesn’t seem to be finished. There’s a certain fire in her eyes as she brings her foot up. Fear runs through Y/N’s body as her wide eyes are stuck on the bottom of Yelena’s boot.

A loud crack echoes through the training room.

Y/N cries out, rolling to her side to hold her now broken arm against her chest. Yelena’s eyes widen, shocked by what she did, though the feeling goes away just as quick.

Unfortunately for her, an immense feeling of guilt fills her body when a loud “Yelena!” comes from the door. Natasha comes running in, instantly kneeling to Y/N’s side. “What the hell was going on in your head?” She practically growls out while lifting up her daughter, shushing her in a comforting manner when she lets out a cry of pain.

Yelena opens her mouth to speak, though she doesn’t know what she could even say, but a harsh glare from Natasha shuts her up. She stays in the training room while Natasha and Y/N leave to the medical room.

After three excruciatingly long hours of pacing in her room, a knock on the door finally breaks the silence. Yelena opens the door, instantly stepping to the side to let Natasha walk inside.

“What were you thinking?” Natasha’s arms are crossed over her chest as she stares at her sister with an icy glare. “She’ll be okay, thank god for that, but she has a broken arm, Yelena.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispers.

Natasha shakes her head. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it now. You’ve been incredibly cold to her, and I chalked it up to nerves, but this,” her brows are raised as she gestures around, “this is unacceptable. She’s my daughter, Yelena. I can’t have you around her if you’re going to hurt her.”

“I won’t!” Her eyes are turning misty from tears and her voice wavers. “I- I don’t know what came over me. I was feeling…jealous…and, and insecure.”

“Why?”

Yelena tugs at the skin on her fingers, at times pressing her nails against her palm as her eyes drop to the ground. “I was scared you’d love me less.” A few tears fall down her cheeks at the confession.

A deep sigh leaves Natasha’s mouth. She rubs the space between her brows. “I love you, Yelena, I would never love you less. But I also have so much love for Y/N, she is my daughter.” There’s no anger in her tone anymore, but there’s a certain steadiness to make sure Yelena fully hears her. “I love both of you so, so much.”

Yelena nods. “I’m sorry.”

“You need to apologize to her.” Natasha mumbles, combing her fingers through her hair. “I’m really upset right now, so I’m going to leave.”

“I’ll make it up, okay?”

Natasha opens the door. “Make it up by treating my daughter well, be genuinely nice to her. You hear me? She is my daughter, that means she is your family too.”

“She’s my niece.” Yelena whispers with a nod, fully absorbing the words. She hurt her niece.

After Natasha leaves and Yelena has a minute to gather herself, she makes her way to the infirmary.

She knocks on the door gently, opening it after she hears a quiet come in. Yelena steps inside. “Hey.”

Y/N lifts her head. “Hi.” She scratches the cast on her arm, her eyes anywhere else but Yelena.

Clearing her throat, she takes a few careful steps inside, stopping beside the hospital bed. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, truly.” She whispers, her eyes on Y/N. “I was an asshole, an insecure and jealous asshole, who was scared that her sister would love me less because she got a daughter.” She lets out a butter laugh. “Which was very stupid of me, because I know Natasha isn’t like that.”

“She’s pretty great.” Y/N whispers.

“She is.” Yelena sits on the chair next to the bed. “She is my sister and you are her daughter, which makes you my niece. And…I’ve always wanted a niece, even though it might not be obvious from the way I’ve acted. I want to be what Natasha was to me for someone, except a little more fun, you know? I’d let you break the rules and drink a little bit and I’d teach you how to run away from the cops.”

Y/N giggles softly, glancing at Yelena every so often, but never looking at her for too long.

“Could we start over, maybe? I could be the aunt that you deserve.” There’s a silence as Y/N stares at the cast while biting the inside of her cheek. “You don’t have to be scared of me.” Yelena whispers. “Which I know is a stupid thing to say after I-“ she glances at the cast, “after I broke your arm.”

“Yeah.” She lets out a shaky breath. “I’m a little scared of you, but I’d like to have an aunt.” Y/N raises her head, giving Yelena a small smile.

Yelena smiles back, wider than ever. She inches closer to the edge of the seat, gently setting her hand on Y/N’s healthy hand. “I will make it up to you, I promise. I’ll spoil you so much.” She grins, already excited with the idea of buying things to her niece.

“Okay.” She laughs, already feeling better despite her broken arm.

[babeeangel]

pervy boyfriends

bllk boys who would –in my humble opinion– be pretty pervy towards their s/o. 

Shidou, Isagi, Karasu headcanons (low-key nsfw), i tried to be gender neutral but maybe it’s a bit more catered towards afab/fem reader for the Isagi part. 

ꕥ

Shidou:

Let’s stats by the most obvious of em all 

He is OPENLY and PROUDLY an OFFICIAL PERV

Let’s call it as it is

We haven't seen him talk about lovers canonly yet but i feel like he’d be a monster

This man is ALWAYS making dirty jokes to you

About you mostly 

Oh and public or not, he doesn't care, he if thought of something, you best believe he gon say it, regardless of whether your dad is around. 

He takes a sick pleasure in exposing your kinks to the whole word, especially ones you’ve told him you’re embarrassed about 

He likes it specifically when he says something in a public setting just loud enough so you will never know for sure if people heard him or not

Likes does his team’s goalkeeper know that you like being choked or not ?? You will never be sure ! (And it's not like you're gonna ask him) 

You never really heard it for yourself but you’re quite sure he talks about your sex life to his friends 

Cause multiple times they came up to you and made a joke that was suspiciously real 

“haha Y/N did you have a cat attack your boyfriend’s back ??” “Y/N can you help me out for next week’s anime convention ? I heard you’re quite good at cosplaying”

You even received a leash from a secret santa (you don't have a dog ???)

You’ve tried to ask him about it once, he jokingly said yes, so you never sure he actually meant it 

But you’re scared that if you ask too much he gon make it worse. 

Mind you Shidou is not just an asshole that crosses your boundaries. You had actually told him you were actually kinda into people low key knowing you’re a freak. But you could never say it yourself. So he’s actually nice and thoughtful to his s/o here. 

So yah let's say Shidou is not ashamed to explain to people what his position he likes you in

Also it’s almost obvious atp but he likes dirty talking in uncomfy places cause he knows it takes you very little to get you started, so he’s there getting you horny in the middle of applebees like… 

He likes telling you all the things he’d do to you once you're back home. 

He also often shares the details of how hard he was in the shower this morning thinking about you and how he chose to wait until you guys could do it cause he felt it would be a shame to waste his “precious cum” (his words) anywhere but “your pretty body” (again his words). 

So as I said, certified unashamed pervy boyfriend.

ꕥ

Isagi:

Now I think this would be an unpopular opinion because everyone and their dad headcanons Isagi as “a sweet caring innocent boyfriend 🥺” and while I agree that is true, he is multifaceted to me. 

To me, he would also be extremely pervy to his s/o, but unbeknownst to them. 

Like the minute you’re turning your back to him, he’s staring fouly at your ass

If you bend down to grab sum, he will not bother to look under your skirt that lifts up or your exposed cleavage. 

But again, he will only do it when he knows you can’t see him. 

He likes watching you doing the most innocent things and adding a double meaning to it in his head

Like you eating a skewer will be something far more dirty in his mind and you whining at the antiseptic on your wound is, in another setting, something way sexier. 

So everytime you see him smile at casual things you do, like getting on your knees to tie your shoelaces, you think wow he loves me so much, but truth is yes he loves you that much, actually way more. 

Isagi will always make the most far fetched double entendres to you, knowing damn well you’re too innocent and maybe head in the clouds to ever get it

So he says it, sees you agree mindlessly, and smiles to himself.

I’m telling you he’s an undercover perv.

Some of his dirty minded friends that have, they too, experience in that field, will sometimes get these double meanings he tells you and chuckle at his reaction to your non reaction. 

Unlike you, THEY know he’s toying with you and tbf they also find it quite cute

Isagi is not the type to put out all your sex life to his friends tho. But sometimes, just sometimes, he will (again) make innuendos about things you’re good at, like doing or like receiving.

But again, when he says it it's with a straight face. 

So his friends are never sure that he actually did mean what he said or if that innuendo was a pure coincidence. 

He just smiles smugly to himself

Also final addition: he knows your weak spots and he plays witit. 

Like he knows you're quite sensitive so he purposefully places the coffee grounds on the top shelf to see you struggle, have you jump around to see it jiggle, watch your shirt lift up and inevitably come to your help by grabbing said item from behind, basically squeezing you between him and the counter, pressing his dick into your ass, knowing damn well that’s enough to have you blush and moan.

But as always, you just think to yourself that he's so nice to help you, and you're so sensitive for reacting to a simple thing. 

ꕥ

Karasu:

let’s not forget about this pretty boy cause i feel we ALL know he can be so pervy…

To me, this boy is always, ALWAYS touching you 

He alwaysss has a hand on you like at all times TT

Saying hello ? Good morning kiss

He tries to find you in public ? When he sees you he’s gonna make himself known by laying a hand on your hip

He won a match ? You know already he’ll grab your ass when he finds you. 

He does not care about decency or whatever that social construct is: 

If he wants to feel you up, he will. 

Don’t care if his teammates are taunting him, if your friends are here, if a camera is filming

He likes the feeling of your skin on his, knowing you’re real cause he can feel it, feel the friction and the heat 

And he also likes knowing you’ll always be available for him, lending him a kiss whenever he asks for one

He should know by now you're never gonna say no, cause you love him so much, but he’s always looking to be reassured that you are his. 

So with Karasu, it does not stop at hand holding when you're going out

More like, hand holding, stroking your ass, kissing you passionately then placing his hand on your chin, smiling and walking again like normal until five meters further he wants to feel your waist. 

Mind you you tried to tell him this was not socially okay, being so explicit on PDA. His answer ?

Says who ? It’s not like people don't know where to be together. I dont think I'm breaking news to them that we get physical if I kiss you in public. 

“Babe, this is not about the kiss on my cheeks in public. I’m talking about you stretching my shirt collar to look at my cleavage while you’re on half time and a whole literal stadium is looking at you”. 

“What, you want to keep it a secret that I smack you ass naked when I win ?” “Well yeah that's kinda exactly what i'm saying” “Useless to bother hiding, they must know already” 

BUT THEY KNOW CAUSE HE WON’T STOP BEING SO HIGH KEY IN PUBLIC. 

So yeah when I say he’s a perv I mean he won’t bother to wait till behind closed doors. He will whisper in your hearts while grabbing your waist from behind no matter if you are in the middle of ordering coffee. 

At least you’re sue he loves you and won’t mind letting others know

ꕥ

A/N: yayyy this came up to me as i was falling asleep, Isagi staring relentlessly as your ass the second you turn around and then thought yeah he'd defo not be the only pervy bf in bllk. Hope u like it~~ still have many more things to write.

[borderlinereminders]

Self-Soothing

Self-Soothing skills are mostly physical techniques that use different senses. This is one of the distress tolerance skills. Different things work for different people, but the goal is to use one (or more) of the five senses to give yourself a comfortable experience when you are feeling in distress.

(These are also really great ideas for grounding!)

Here are some examples to try, but don't hesitate to add your own!

Vision:

Go visit a place you love (a museum, aquarium, maybe the beach, or a trail/view point you love.)

Watch a slideshow of your favourite pictures

Look at an aesthetic collage/board you made

Light a candle and watch the flame flicker and the wax gradually melt.

Find a video you like like a wood stove burning, or maybe rain or snow falling.

Touch:

Use a stim toy that you enjoy that has an interesting texture (slime, soft things, etc).

Pet or cuddle your pet!

Hold a favourite blanket, or maybe a stuffed animal.

Take a warm bubble bath

Lay in the grass

Hearing:

Put on your favourite music

Use an auditory stim toy you enjoy (pop tubes, snapperz, etc.)

Listen to nature sounds

Listen to your pet snoring

Go to a park and listen to the sounds of children laughing and playing

Taste:

Have a nice cup of tea, hot chocolate, coffee, etc

Suck on a hard candy

Chew on gum

Eat one of your favourite snacks

Cook a favourite meal

Go grab a favourite drink from somewhere

Smell:

Light a scented candle and focus on the smell

Use incense

Use your favourite body spray/perfume

Go for a walk somewhere where you can smell something you enjoy like the ocean, or fresh baking at the bakery

Bake or cook something to smell it in the oven

Set up a new air freshener

We sometimes feel like we don't deserve these comforts, or it's hard for us to self-soothe on our own without someone to help us. You absolutely deserve these comforts, and while it's valid to get help from others, being able to work on self-soothing for ourselves can be really beneficial to us and our relationships. I made a deal with myself that I will try self-soothing first and then reach out for help if needed after I make a solid effort on my own. The comfort that I still have the option to reach out makes me more willing to try to self-soothe on my own.

If possible, make yourself a goal to try a new self-soothing technique a week to try when you aren't in distress to see how it feels! Trying these distress skills when we aren't in distress can be really helpful to us being able to use them in distress. When you are trying them, make sure to try and focus solely on the technique. If you are using a taste technique, focus only on the taste and enjoyment of whatever it is. (Using mindfulness techniques to achieve this can be helpful!)

[atlasmoonglade]

Joost Klein x OC!single mom

Warnings: divorce mentioned, smut in later chapters.

Summary: this takes place pre Eurovision. Joost meets Ria, a single 32yo mom. Probably will be a slow burn. Multiple chapters.

This is just for fun, don't take too seriously.

the night we met it was supposed to rain. the night we met i was supposed to stay home.

Chapter 1

"Please!" my friend begged me.

"I already told you, I am not going out tonight. I have a horrible headache, plus look at the weather forecast." I complained while putting on the kettle.

"Oh c'mon, when has a little rain ever ruined our plans."

"A million times." I laughed. "Let's just stay in this time. This is the weekend when Elliot is staying with his dad. You'll meet with your mystery man tomorrow."

"Ok," Brianne, my dear friend who is head of over heals for a man she met online, sighed. "what I forgot to mention - he is in town only for a week and I can't meet him any other day. Please come with me. It's a bar, if it rains, it won't be an issue."

I am not a fan of spontaneous plans, I need everything planned and agreed 5 business days in advance. There is no place in my life for sudden changes, but I look at her realising I will have to brave my headache and hate of impulsiveness to go out. I love her to pieces and couldn't bear the thought of her going alone.

"He is bringing a friend, so it will be like a...double first-time-meeting-a-guy-you-met-on-instagram type of date. Please come." she is making puppy dog eyes at me. "We won't stay too late and you will still have plenty of time for yourself, I promise."

"Ok." I said. "How could I miss a double first-time-meeting-a-guy-you-met-on-instagram type of date. Maybe he will be cute."

He is not. I am in a bar listening to the most boring man on earth talk about finance and crypto, having to nod and smile because Brianne on the other hand is having a grand-ol time with her instagram guy. How do people even meet on social media, a mystery to me. Though they seem to be a match made in heaven, she is talking non stop and he actively listens with appropriate reactions right when she expects it.

"I will order myself another drink. Anyone want anything?" I stand up to head to the bar.

"Yes, another Martini." Brianne said with a wink.

"I still have my beer, thank you."

"Want me to come with you?" finance guy, whose name I didn't even bother to remember, asked.

"No, it's okay. I will be right back." I am happy to have a minute of silence.

I send a quick text to Nicholas, my ex-husband, asking how Elliot is doing. They are having a Cars movie marathon eating as many sweets as a 6 year old can muster, which is probably infinite. As I hit send, I walk straight into someone's back, which knocks the wind out of me.

"Woah. What happened" the guy, whose back apparently is like a brick wall, exclaims.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking." I say rubbing my forehead.

Mister broad shoulders turns to face me. "Are you okay?" he asks with an accent.

"Yes, sorry again. Didn't mean to crash into you like that" I look up to take a better look at him. A good looking blond man wearing tinted glasses inside. "Usually I don't head butt people at first sight." I drop my hand from the forehead.

He doesn't say anything, just smiles at me, I smile back. It seems so natural.

He turns to say something to his group of friends, who have been eyeing our collision, then turns back to me. "I was going for a smoke. Want to join me?" he points his head to the exit, reaching for his pocket.

"Uh, sure." I say.

He takes a lead, I follow. I send a quick text to Brianne: went for some fresh air. brb

Fresh air feels nice indeed, boring conversation with a crypto man long forgotten.

"What's your name?" my new acquaintance asks while he lights a cigarette and offers me one from the pack.

"Ria" I fold my arms over my chest to protect myself from the chilly evening wind. "I don't smoke."

"Ria" he repeats my name as if trying it out. "I'm Joost."

"Where are you from?" I ask while taking in this stranger who almost knocked me out. He is wearing a white t-shirt with a hoodie over it, loose denim pants which seem too long for him and those sunglasses.

"the Netherlands. I'm visiting a friend here." he says while blowing out the smoke facing away from me.

"Is it your first time here?" I keep the conversation.

"No, I come here from time to time. Have to culture myself." he smiles.

"Yes, a lot of culture in the US of A."

He laughs throwing his head back, which makes my heart flutter. What a strange turn of an evening.

He finishes his cigarette, stubs it out and we head back inside.

"It was nice to meet you, Joost." I smile at him.

"Likewise" he doesn't return to his friends yet as if he wants to say something more.

"I need to get back to my friend. Don't want to leave her alone for too long."

"Don't walk into someone else, that role is reserved for me." he jokes again and heads back to his group.

"Sorry, they ran out of Martinis" I say as I come back to Brianne and our companions.

I can't help but glance in the direction of Joost, right as I catch him looking too. He notices the seemingly double date that is happening. Am I imagining or does he look upset. I give a small smile, which he returns and goes back to his conversation. Am I imagining or do I want him to look back again. It is an unusual feeling for me to long for someone I barely met, will definitely have to unpack that later.

I also notice the absence of a headache, must have been the breath of fresh air.

I woke up the next day feeling not my best. Even a couple of drinks isn't an easy task after 30 - something I have yet to accept.

My phone buzzes. A text from Nicholas: Getting ready to go to Disneyland. Elliot wants to wish you good morning. ☺️

I text back Good morning! Have a fun day you two! ❤️ give him a hug from me.

I place an online order in my favorite coffee shop and decide to walk there instead of driving. I need to clear my head, yesterday's events still fresh on my mind.

As I walk I try to think of why Joost made such an impression on me. I was secretly craving his attention the rest of the night. Am I ready to be dating again? The idea of how complicated dating is while having a kid scares me, that is why I haven't pursued that idea in so long.

But the few times our eyes met from the different parts of the bar felt electric. I need to be careful.

I walk into the coffee shop, the usual place of orders already having a Coldbrew I ordered ready, I head straight to it. At the same time a hand reaches for it too, as we both grab the drink. I turn "I am pretty that is m-", and see non other than my blond friend from yesterday.

"Joost!" I exclaim.

"Ria?" he looks as confused as me.

"Now I should ask if you are following me." I say and notice we are both still holding the coffee.

"I start to believe you are the one following me and stealing my drink." he doesn't let go of it.

I check the name on the drink, it spells "Youst".

"They did spell my name wrong, but close enough." he laughs and at the same time barista announces a Coldbrew for Ria.

"Ok, so I loose, it was not mine." I take my order.

"Honestly it was a matter of seconds, I was about to give up mine." he says.

"Really? I was ready to fight, I really need it this morning." I say taking a sip, a moan slipping my lips.

"Wild night?" we head outside.

"No, I actually went to sleep rather early. Drinking at my age doesn't go down well."

"Went to sleep early? Wasn't a fun date?" he looks at me through his yellow tinted sunglasses.

"If you consider someone mansplain crypto to you for 3 hours to be fun, then yes, it was a thrilling experience." I look up at him. "My friend made me go."

"Oh." he seems relieved. "You were listening to him so intently, wouldn't have guessed it wasn't intentional."

"So you are following me. Thought I felt someone's stare burning into my head." I tease.

"Only a little." he smiles and takes another sip. "So, you said it's not easy at your age. Couldn't think you are older than 27, how old are you? If you don't mind me asking. Definitely not for my following purposes."

I laugh. It feels so easy to talk to him, but I have to rip off the bandate.

"I am 32 and I have to be honest with you. I am single but I have a kid."

This seems to have taken him aback. Which is often how it goes, I try not to seem hurt, already coming up with an excuse to leave.

"Can I get your instagram, Ria?" he asks.

My head snaps to look at him, this is the last thing I expected to hear.

"You are a funny guy, Joost."

He hands me his phone to type in my name in the search.

"I have to go now, but I do believe in fate. It is trying to tell us something making us meet again." he stretches out a hand for me to shake. I take it. Here is that feeling again.

As I walk back to my apartment, I get an instagram notification.

joostklein just started following you.

Chapter 2

[grimm-writings]

HI ITS BARD ANON I MISSED YOU!!! insane request but what about a situation where the party + kabru + chil’s family orchestrate a date between chil and reader? like setting them up… i think that’d be so cuteeee

for the dancing and the dreaming

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, post-canon spoilers, chilchuck’s wife remains nameless, i love chilchuck's family can you tell

…wc! 1887

…notes! BARD ANON I’M BACK FROM WAR (burnout) !!!! these two requests are similar so i decided to make ‘em a wombo combo!!! enjoy my loves!

The woman gives you a kindly smile as she waves you off, you and her ex leaving the tavern.  She sighs and leans back, crossing her arms.

God, Chilchuck is more stupid than she remembered.

How could he possibly miss the affection in your eyes when he called out to you both before you left?  Or how you clearly wanted to ask if you can stay with him longer?  He’s just going to ignore that and consider it all platonic?

What an idiot.  Do I really have to step in for him again?  Just like old times, huh…?

The half-foot taps a finger against her cheek in thought.  Maybe she can push you to confess?  No, you’d probably wave your hands around and insist against having feelings for Chilchuck in the first place.  A heavy sigh escapes her.

Looks like she has to do things the old-fashioned way.

Step 1 – Family

The quickest way to alert someone is to see who the people closest to you know.  Flertom is rather in-the-know about any gossip.  Usually, as a mother, the half-foot really doesn’t want to encourage such things, but for now…

“What’s trendy in dating circles nowadays?”  She asks offhandedly, eyeing a bouquet Flertom bought to gift a possible suitor.  “Is the man still expected to be the one to initiate everything?”

She could nearly scoff at her own words.  Only reason she and Chil got together was pure happenstance.  Practically a blur by now.  He’d be hopeless at actually trying to start anything with you.

The younger woman hums in curiosity, before stopping to think.  “Not really nowadays, no…  If you have enough charisma, you can charm any man into taking you out for a drink.  Why do you ask, Ma?”

Flertom squints as she watches her mother laugh and shake her head in response.  “Oh, I just think your old man might need some… encouragement with a new flame is all.”

Just as she expected, Flertom was immediately on the ball with planning, rushing out to the town in order to visit her sisters and inform them of the operation.  She practically commanded her old mother to see if she could look for any clues about Chilchuck’s possible beau.  With a knowing smile, she remarks that she’s very happy to pay a visit to Melini.

Step 2 – Friends

“You really think something that elaborate could work?!”  Marcille Donato leans forward in her chair.  Her eyes shine with a certain kind of joy at the idea of playing Cupid that amuses the matured half-foot significantly.

She nods.  “I don’t see anything else coming close to pushing them.  Force might be the only way.”

A female tall-man, Falin if recalled correctly, squints and hums, tapping her finger on her chin as she tilts her head.  Her brow furrows.  “From what I know, Chilchuck seems to be more open, but… I don’t know if he has the courage to be truly vulnerable in front of someone like that.”

“No need to tell me twice,” his ex scoffs.

“Oh!”  The king, of all people, seems to have an epiphany.  “We could hold some sort of ball, encourage him to invite a plus one.  That can work, right Kabru?”

All eyes turn to look at the advisor standing to the side, clearly enjoying the conversation but not wishing to intrude.�� He startles at the sudden attention, before clearing his throat behind his fist.

“It will take some time to plan, but it could work…  You mentioned having three daughters, ma’am, you can take one as a plus-one, and the two will take each other.”  He’s calm with his conclusion, which the half-foot woman can definitely respect.

“A banquet of all their favourite foods,” the dwarf Senshi, as food-brained as ever, sighs in daydream.

Kabru takes a step forward.  “Though I have to ask,” he enquires, “is it really necessary to call upon all of the king’s advisors and himself for a Cupid scheme?”

Silly boy.  He doesn’t yet realise the stakes.

If Chilchuck and you don’t say something soon, then you may stay silent forever.  This idea might be the best shot they have.

Step 3 – The Preparation

“What’s even the occasion…?”  Chilchuck sighs as he adjusts the sleeves of the formal outfit he’s wearing.  He’s definitely unused to something so high-class.  Being invited as a guest of honour certainly isn’t doing any favours either.

Not to mention, Laios was stupid enough to not even bestow upon you a guest of honour title!  Chilchuck has to go through the means of inviting you as a plus one due to some ‘organisational issues’, as Kabru put it.

What a load of crap.

“I ‘unno!”  Puckpatti peeks her head around the corner to look at her father.  “Royals just seem to like their balls!”

“This isn’t one of your period romances…” Meijack’s voice rings from the other room too.

You sit with them, talking amongst one another.  Flertom’s plus one remains a mystery to you, though she assures you that you’ll meet with her when you get there.  You can only assume it’s the girls’ mother but you have no clue why she’s so giggly and secretive about it.

“On the contrary!” Flertom announces.  “I think it’s exactly like a period romance.  Maybe one of us will be swept into a dance so beguiling, you forget there’s a whole ballroom of people!”

You squeal in surprise when Flertom takes your hands and pulls you out of your chair.  You dance together in a fit of giggles.  You only barely miss Chilchuck walking out to meet with you all, a fond smile on his face.

Little do you know, he’s thinking about what it would be like if joy like this could be shared in a household with the two of you.

“Come on now, settle.  Apparently there’s gonna be a carriage taking us to Melini.  I couldn’t fight against the theatrics, according to Marcille…”

“Oh Papa!”  Puckpatti sighs blissfully.  “We truly are living like nobles now!  Maybe you can… ah…”

Both you and Chilchuck spy her eyes darting towards her sisters with unsureness.  How strange.

“You can find… someone nice there!”

“No, Patti.”  Chilchuck shakes his head with a sigh.  “I’m not gonna marry some rich dwarf.”

“You are too cruel, Papa,” Flertom points out with a pout.  “No one will want you if you just keep saying no.”

As the three bicker, Meijack spares you a sympathetic glance, and she rolls her eyes.  Her sisters hardly know subtlety.  Finally she stands up and walks to your side.

“I’m glad you’re here with us,” she says with uncharacteristic softness; she’s similar to her father like that.  “Papa has good taste.”

You go red just as much as Chilchuck.  For a moment, Flertom and Puckpatti wonder if their less romance-focused sister has some secret charisma she’s been hiding up her sleeve this whole time.  It seems to work though, as they chorus their agreements loudly.

“Very good taste!”

“Their formal wear matches yours fashionably well!”

“Just as pretty as Ma too!”

“If not prettier!”

The entire carriage ride to Melini was full of this type of chatter, asking questions about you and Chilchuck’s time together the whole way.  A few times you had to clarify that you are only as close as the rest of your old party were close, but were only met with a few smug “mhms” and “sures”.

Chilchuck can only roll his eyes when he gets the chance to comment on it privately with you.  “I have no idea what’s up with them.”

“Oh, cheer up!”  You laugh softly.  “I’m flattered that they like me.”

Chilchuck can’t help but hear your laugh and chuckle along – music to his ears.  “...Yeah, I’m glad they like you too.”

“Come on!  Ma is here to greet you two!”  Flertom’s voice calls out.

The mastermind has been watching you and Chilchuck the whole time you approach.  Her expression remains neutral, with the smallest sliver of a smile.  Seems like the proximity has been lending itself quite well.

“Well, aren’t you two a pair,” she greets you both.  “Ready to take the ball by storm.”

“Your jokes haven’t gotten any better,” Chilchuck replies.

“And you’re still wearing the same shabby suit from sixteen years ago.”

Chilchuck flushes red once again and you can’t help but laugh, patting his shoulder sympathetically as he hooks his arm through yours.

The watching half-foot knowingly grins.  Yes, you two are definitely going to take it up a level after tonight.

Step 4 – Profit!

The ball came and went.  It goes as typical as the dark-haired half-foot expects.  What really is supposed to be a high-class noble event is a mask for foodies, romantics, and those looking for a fun time.

Senshi’s food was as wonderful as promised, and even if this was all done in the name of romance, Flertom and Puckpatti had to be held down from trying to approach the dwarf with lowered eyelids and twirled hair.  Chilchuck doesn’t need more heart palpitations than he already did.

She did her best to encourage Chilchuck to drink.  She knows better than anyone that his tongue only loosened when he got enough alcohol in him.  It hurts just a little, knowing that this is one of the only ways Chilchuck can be open with someone romantically.

The temptation did cross her to ask how Chilchuck views her now, but she stood against it.  It’s not the night for that.

By the time the party drew to a close, people were exhausted, drunk, in a food coma, or all of the above.  The King had to be dragged over to his quarters, and Marcille had since passed out on Falin’s shoulder, who’s bidding farewell to guests.

The dark-haired half-foot swirls the last of her wine in a glass as she stands outside, making small-talk with the tall-man.  It’s not until you stumble out with Chilchuck clinging to the fabric on your hip that she looks up.

“Do you—”

“No need for help!”  You reassure her with a grin.  “He always seems to get clingy with me when drunk, so I’m kinda used to it at this point!”

Your laughter meets a knowing smile, not knowing exactly what she’s so smug about.  “Yes, he seems to really like you.”

“I sure hope he does, considering he’s accepted my request to go on a date with him.”

Falin perks up enough to wake up the elf on her shoulder.  “A date?”

The half-foot across from you is stunned into silence.  It actually worked.  The atmosphere and passion of it all actually egged you both on!

“Congratulations.”  You’ve seen more emotion from the dark-haired woman than ever before.  Her smile relaxed but her eyes shining, the lines underneath crinkling with happiness.  “Treat him well, okay?”

“Of course,” you reply, and you lean forward a little.  “Thank you for your help.  Kabru couldn’t help but gossip to me.”

You wink and lean up again.  Chilchuck at your side whines for your attention and you laugh, walking towards a carriage.

Safe travels were promised, and the dark-haired half-foot turns to the two blonde women.

The elf blinks slowly, red-faced from drink.

“Did we win…?”

The two other women laugh.  Stories must be exchanged the next time you all meet – especially on your end of things.

[captainofthetidesbreath]

I feel like, with the season's plot since Kozma's death being so dense and breakneck and with it being the final season and all, it's easy to feel like it's silly or a waste or inefficient to devote an entire episode to just the party with only oblique references to what's happening in the Highest Light via Saskia. It feels like a lot to dedicate to dancing and singing in Stationary Hill, so seemingly (doing heavy lifting, that word) far removed from the rest of the plot.

But, I think it's important to really spend time with Midst. There's the narrative pacing reason (a quick breath before we really start racing) and there's the reasons of setting the stage for our final act (it is to where we are returning to end all this), but crucially: it is important to see all this, for Saskia.

Shindig is for Saskia and her arc and her motivations the way that Fault is for Spahr and all his. Saskia is a major character, and one deeply tied to the narrative of a protagonist and to place and to the thematic structures, so spending time developing what it is that drives her choices at a granular level is important.

When she makes that decision to pull the lever and shred those beads, this is what is at the forefront of her mind. Saskia is very rooted in the community in Midst, in the people that she is doing all this for. She says to them all in Weather: "I am proud to call Stationary Hill my home, no matter what happens next. I'm here for you, and you're here for me, and there's no other group of people I'd rather be with right now. I'm sorry I couldn't do better for you." In Wake, she is full of "almost heartbreaking honor" and pride that everyone wishes to stay to rebuild Stationary Hill. She sets off for the Highest Light in Breakfast because she wants to move actively protect Midst from the Trust.

She is dedicated to the people of Midst, through and through, and it is the root of all her actions. She hopes for and works toward the fall of the Trust, but more than that, she hopes that the people of Midst will thrive and works toward protecting their futures.

She is in the Central Vault in the Highest Light, but she is also halfway across the cosmos, dancing and singing with these this community she loves more than anything. When she looks Weepe in the eye and pulls that lever, to destroy what remains of this Vault and with it the Trust, and at least part of (maybe all of) herself as well, she is hearing the laughter and their joy of the people on Midst. She knows that the Trust, that Weepe, will come to destroy that eventually.

We need to spend all that time at that party because that is what Saskia is experiencing as she moves toward shred. We need to know what she is choosing, to remember very clearly why she is doing this, to see in real-time what it is she has to lose if they fail here. It is all together at that party that is happening right then.