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soaps-mohawk · 2 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

What Could Have Been

Summary: You've reached the age you can be chosen. Little do you know your future has been planned out from the start.

Pairing: Philip Graves x reader

Word Count: 7, 358 words

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, a/b/o, Omegaverse, Alternate Universe, AU of an AU, suggestive content, mentioned predatory behaviors towards a minor, Philip Graves is a major creep, reader has a set age for plot (she is an adult), dubcon (pushing noncon at the end) but it's muddy water because a/b/o, kissing, touching, lingerie, panic, coercion, virginity and purity culture, fade to black because I couldn't write smut for this

A/N: I am...very sorry for this. Honestly I've been debating posting it but I wrote 7k words and I don't want that to go to waste. This is very...dark. A lot is implied but there's still some fairly disturbing content because of those things. The reader is 18 in this because of plot, but it still feels very...icky. Definitely recommend reading Chapter 34 before reading this to understand the context. Not necessary to read. Just an AU what if kind of bit for the story.

Also if you're finding this and you've never seen my stuff before, Hi! I highly recommend reading Cherry Red, Crimson Blood first before this for context otherwise some things might not make sense. I suppose it could be read as a stand alone but still, context is nice to have

What Ifs Masterlist | Directory

“You’ve been chosen.”

You had barely managed to get a bite in of breakfast when one of the staff members had pulled you away and led you to the director’s office. None of the omegas at FIOT particularly like him. He’s a small man, middle aged and balding. His scent is...not pleasant. Nutty with undertones of wet animals and whatever he ate for his meals that day. Every omega in the institute dreads being called to his office, being closed in with the offensive smell he permeates.

You would have been experiencing that same disgust had it not been for your shock at his words. “What?” You breathe, eyes wide.

“You’ve been chosen.” He repeats, folding his hands on his desk over a thin file.

“So soon?” You ask, forgetting all decorum and manners you’ve had drilled into your head for two years.

It’s your eighteenth birthday today. You just became old enough to be chosen a matter of hours ago.

“This pack is very eager to claim you as their omega.” He says. “One of their betas will be by tomorrow to interview you.”

Your heart flutters in your chest. While it’s shocking you were chosen so soon, this is what you had hoped for. Two years of training and drilling perfection into your head did pay off. You’ve hardly been on the available list more than a few hours and already there’s a pack interested in you. Something about it has a chill running down your spine, tickling at the base of your neck. You brush it off as shock at this all happening so soon.

“You may return to breakfast.” The director says, going back to his paperwork.

“Thank you, sir.” You say, exiting his office.

It doesn’t feel like your feet touch the floor as you walk back to the mess hall, your body floating as you make your way through the halls. If tomorrow goes well, this will be the last day you spend in this building, this prison you’ve been confined to. They’ll be here as early as they can be tomorrow, if they’re this eager to choose you.

The thought has something prickling in the back of your mind still.

Who are they? Who is this eager to choose you? The must have known about you before you even showed up in the registry as being available. You’ve heard rumors that institutes will supply information about omegas to packs for the right price under the table. Information on omegas that aren’t old enough to be chosen.

You wouldn’t be surprised if FIOT was one of those institutes. The packs that get their omegas here are packs that can pay a hefty price. There’s usually a waiting period while background checks are done and information has to be verified and packs have to interview with the director before omegas themselves can even be interviewed by the pack. You’ve seen it take weeks before.

Whoever the alpha of this pack is...they knew about you before you became available.

“What did the director want?” One of the omegas in your age group asks as you take your seat at the table again. Amanda. She cried for five days when she was brought in.

The others at the table lean in close, like you’re about to reveal some big secret.

“I’ve been chosen.” You tell them. The words almost seem like a foreign language on your tongue.

They all cheer happily, getting looks from the wardens around the mess hall.

“That’s amazing!” Chelsea says, wrapping her arms around you to squeeze you in a tight hug.

“So soon?” Amanda asks as the congratulations die down.

“Yeah.” You say. “They’re interviewing me tomorrow.”

They all share looks, and you know they’re thinking the same thing you are.

The rumors are true.

“Impressive, isn’t she?” The warden for your dorm group says, as if you’re not sitting there too. She’s responsible for overseeing the small group of eight omegas you’re a part of. She’s the most knowledgeable about the omegas under her watchful eyes, and it’s standard practice for the wardens to sit in on the interviews between the pack beta and the omega being chosen.

“Quite.” The beta says, looking over your thick file. Bryan, he’d introduced himself as. He’d shaken your hand, something you hadn’t been expecting. He acknowledged you as existing right away, something that doesn’t happen often in the stories you’ve heard about interviews, stories from omegas that had made it this far in the process, but were rejected in the end. “Excellent scores, quite extensive essays.” He says, flipping through the file. He’s not really looking at it. You can see his eyes just scanning the pages. He already knows. He came into the building with his answer.

Whoever his alpha is has already seen your file.

He closes the file, pushing it forward on the table. He’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes on you. Yours are lowered respectfully, no matter how badly you want to stare back at him.

“To be honest, my alpha already made his decision before I got here.” Bryan says, leaning his arms on the table. “Your profile was enough to convince him.”

“So, you’d like to move forward with the process?” Warden Jameson asks.

“Yes.” He says, nodding. “She’s going to be a perfect fit.”

You glance up at him, a warm smile on his face as he stares at you. It’s really happening. You really have been chosen.

The next hour is a flurry of paperwork and signatures. None from you, of course, but from the beta of your new pack. The paperwork would be sent to your new alpha to sign off on and to finalize the decision once you meet him. No one has ever been sent back after that point, yet you can’t help the nervous flutter in your stomach. What if they don’t like you after all? What if they made a hasty decision and regret it as soon as they meet you? What if you mess everything up?

You follow Bryan and the director towards the entrance to the building, something you haven’t seen since your tour after your arrival. It’s off limits to omegas, several locked doors standing between them and freedom.

Or more like to keep others out.

There’s someone at the front desk as you pass by, and you turn to look out of curiosity. It’s a middle aged woman with blonde hair, dressed in a business suit. “Kate Laswell, here for an appointment with Director Jones.”

You don’t get to hear anything else, ushered out into the world by the director. You’ve heard how giddy he gets about omegas leaving from staff, though you supposed that’s because it’s extra money in his pockets. The more omegas he can match and get out of FIOT, the more the government pays him.

“I’m looking forward to hearing how she’s settling in.” The director says to Bryan as he hands off your small bag of meager belongings.

“Of course.” Bryan says, setting it in the front seat of the car waiting out front. “My alpha will be in touch.”

“Good.” He shakes Bryan’s hand before turning to you. “Good luck. I expect the best from you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say, dropping your gaze out of respect.

Bryan opens the car door for you and you slide in, smoothing out your skirt. You’re still in your uniform, and you won’t be able to change until you get to where you’re going. If they let you change. It’s important they remember where you came from, where you were taught the things you’re supposed to know, where you were trained to be the perfect omega. As if they could forget where they paid for you.

Bryan drives away from the institute, taking you away from the place that’s been your home for the last two years. It’s the first time you’ve been outside those walls since you were forced in, ripped away from your home the day after your presentation. You’ve thought about your family many times over the last two years. Where are they now? How are they doing? What have your siblings been up to? Have any of them presented as omegas too?

Maybe your new alpha will let you contact them again.

It’s wishful thinking. Most don’t. Not the kinds of alphas that buy from FIOT.

“Nervous?” Bryan asks, glancing at you through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, sir.” You say, smoothing your hands over your skirt. You’re projecting your scent without even realizing it. “Sorry, sir.”

He smiles. “I don’t blame you. I’d be nervous too. Don’t worry, though. You’re going to a good place.”

Despite his well meaning words, you can’t help but feel a bit of trepidation. Is it a good place? Or is it only a good place by beta’s standards? He can’t possibly know, he can’t possibly understand, unless there’s other omegas.

You’re almost excited by the thought of being around other omegas in a pack. Having that chance to have friends and bond with others like you who know. Those who understand.

You can’t help but stare as Bryan pulls into the parking garage of a very nice hotel. The cars in the parking garage are some of the most expensive you’ve ever seen. You’re not surprised, given the types of alphas that choose omegas from FIOT. Rich, important alphas looking for trophies to wave around.

Look at me, look at my perfect omega.

Bryan opens your door for you, helping you out of the car. He’s holding your bag in his hand, using the other to guide you towards the elevator. His hand is warm, even though your back is beginning to sweat a bit. You’re really nervous now, but you try to keep your scent under control.

Your new life is about to begin, the life of a claimed omega.

Unless they don’t like you.

You have to do everything in your power to make sure they do.

The elevator ride seems to take a lifetime as you go up to a high floor overlooking the city. You’ve never stayed in a hotel this nice before. You’ve never even been in a building with this many floors before.

Bryan leads you down the hall to a door, using the keycard to open it. He gives you a reassuring smile before pushing it open and guiding you through. It’s a suite, possibly the nicest hotel room you’ve ever seen. Bryan leads you to the small living area, the man you assume is your alpha seated on one of the couches. He’s sitting there casually, ankle crossed over his knee, his arm thrown over the back of the couch. There’s a grin on his face, your eyes widening as you stare at him.

“Phil?”

It comes out before you can stop it, all training and decorum leaving as you stare at him in shock. His smile widens, showing off perfect white teeth and dimples. He’s a bit older now than he had been back then, but it is him.

“Hi darlin’.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Been a while.”

Ten years or so. He was your dad’s best friend while he was stationed in Texas. He was at your house constantly, sitting around watching sports and standing in the backyard while your father barbequed. He was always friendly to you, always sitting just a little too close, always hovering. You hadn’t thought anything about it back then. You were too young to understand.

Now you do.

You drop your gaze as he approaches, trying to recover from your shock. You still have an impression to make, a role to fill. Calloused fingers cup your chin, lifting your face back up. You stare up into Phil’s bright blue eyes, just as friendly as you remember them being.

“None of that.” He says softly. “We’re familiar with each other, aren’t we?”

“Yes, sir.” You say, swallowing thickly.

A small smile tugs at his lips before he releases you. “Come on, make yourself comfortable.” He motions to the couches. “We've got a few things to discuss.”

Nerves twist in your stomach as you move to the couches, tucking your skirt under you before you sit. The couch is comfortable, your body sinking into the cushion. It's far more comfortable than the chairs and benches at the institute. He takes a seat right next to you, draping an arm across the back of the couch behind you.

His fingers curl under your chin again, turning your head so you're looking at him. Those bright blue eyes scan your face, taking in every detail.

“Those pictures didn't do you any justice.” He says. Your file is sitting on the table in front of you. “You've always been a pretty little thing.” His thumb traces your jaw, your stomach churning. “Look like your mom more than your dad. That's certainly not a bad thing.” He smirks.

He holds you there for a moment staring into your eyes. Something tickles in the back of your mind as he stares at you, something instinctual like a warning. He releases you, dropping his hand back onto his lap.

“It's good to see you again.” He says, the fingers of the hand behind you playing with the strands of your hair. “A lot has changed, hasn't it? I got old, you became an omega. I always knew you would. Your temperament wasn't right for an alpha. Always so calm and eager to please. You weren't rowdy like your brothers. Always such a sweet little thing.” His fingers trail over the back of one of your hands where it's draped in your lap. Your stomach clenches at his touch, something churning inside you, something you haven't felt since the last time you were around him. “You didn't deserve the way he treated you. It wasn't your fault for becoming what you are.”

He's talking about your father.

“How did you-”

“I was the one he called.” Phil says simply. “Raging and carrying on about his useless child presenting as an omega.” He shakes his head. “So I pulled some strings, promised some favors, and got you into FIOT immediately, with the stipulation that you would be mine as soon as you were old enough.” He grins. “Now here we are!”

You swallow thickly, staring at him. “It was you?”

He nods. “Had to make sure you'd be taken care of until I could come yet you myself. Now you’re here.” His arm wraps tighter around you, the hand that had been brushing yours dropping to wrap around your thigh. You stare up at him as he leans down slightly closer to you. He smells just like you remember. Woody with the rich scent of chocolate underneath. “I will take care of you.” He says, looking pointedly into your eyes. “You'll want for nothing and you'll be happy.”

Will you?

You break away first, your eyes dropping to stare at the hand that’s gripping your thigh, fingers indenting the skin through your tights. It feels like a threat, a silent reminder of the power dynamic between you, something he won’t say out loud. He’s an alpha, you’re only an omega. He has control over you, he can dictate your entire life now that you’ve been chosen by him. You belong to him, just as he’s wanted.

He’s been waiting longer than two years.

“You hungry?” He asks, his entire demeanor suddenly shifting.

You are hungry. You had left the institute just before lunch, and you had barely been able to eat breakfast because of the nerves. You nod, deciding telling the truth is better than to try to lie to him early on. “Yes, sir.”

He gives you a grin. “You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Phil, just like old times.” He finally releases you, leaning forward to grab a tri-fold menu off the table. “Pick whatever you like.” He says, putting it in your hands. “I’ll be right back.”

He gets up from the couch and you watch him go before turning back to the menu. The prices make your stomach churn. Your family wasn’t necessarily poor, but with so many of you, you certainly weren’t taking very many vacations very often. Your family moved around so much there wasn’t much of a need to take vacations either.

You’re not even sure what to do, looking at the menu. What was acceptable? What if you ordered something too expensive. With a hotel room like this, you’re not sure you could order something too expensive. You’re not even quite sure what Phil does anymore. You remember overhearing a conversation he had with your dad about joining MARSOC before he disappeared from your lives. Is he still involved with the military? Did he leave and enter a new career field, one that allows him to stay in places like this?

You might never know. It’s not your job to know things like that.

You just need to know how to serve your alpha and take care of him, follow his orders and give him pups when he desires them. Be a good omega and do whatever it is he wants. Your wants don’t matter, only your alpha’s.

“Decide what you want?” Phil asks, appearing in front of you again.

You jump in surprise, having been so caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed him approaching. You’ll have to break that habit and fast. “Yes.” You say, even though you hadn’t even read through the menu in its entirety.

You try to stop your hands from shaking, picking out the first thing your eyes land on. You’re not even quite sure what it is or if you’ll like it. You needed an answer and you gave it to him. Just exactly what he wanted.

That is your job, after all.

Give him exactly what he wants.

The bed looks plush and comfortable, larger than you’ve slept on in a long time. The beds at FIOT weren’t too terribly uncomfortable, but you’ve gotten so used to sharing a room it seems strange to be sleeping on your own.

That’s not the only reason it feels strange.

“Are you not going to-”

Phil cuts you off before you can finish, not even needing to know what you were going to ask. “No. Not here.” He says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s for when we’re at home. Besides,” He smooths a hand over your hair. “You’ve had a long day.”

He stares down at you for a moment, and you almost think he’s changing his mind, deciding he can’t wait until you’re back in Texas. Instead he takes a step back, turning to the dresser your bag had been set on. There’s other shopping bags next to it, things you hadn't even noticed when you walked in.

You had been too focused on the bed.

“Bryan picked up some clothes.” He turns back to look at you, his hand trailing down your back. “As cute as the uniform is, I’d rather you be comfortable.”

You can see it in his eyes. He’s picturing you in it, and not standing before him. It makes your skin crawl.

“Get some sleep.” He says, moving his hand from your lower back. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow. You need anything, I’m across the hall and Bryan’s next door.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you, Phil.”

He grins down at you, dimples indenting in his cheeks. “Of course, darlin’.”

You stare at the door for a minute after he closes it, holding your breath. You half expect him to come back in, change his mind and decide he’d rather do it here. He could barge in, force you down on the bed and you wouldn’t be able to do anything. You’re not supposed to do anything.

Good omegas do as they’re told. Good omegas don’t fight back.

You wish the door had a lock on it.

You jolt awake as you’re jostled in your seat. You let out a quiet sound, not quite sure where you even are, much less what’s going on.

“Just a bit of turbulence.” A voice says, pushing your head to rest against a shoulder again.

Right. You’re on a plane heading towards Dallas. You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your head resting on Phil’s shoulder. He smells like scent blockers, all three of you do. The plane is a cocktail of scents, the chemical burn of scent blocker mixed with the ugly mesh of too many scents in one confined space. Not everyone has the decency to use scent blockers while traveling. You’ve always hated planes for that reason.

You stretch your legs out as much as you can, your knee bumping the tray lightly. It had been lowered, you assume, at some point while you were asleep. Your book is sitting on it, the book you had been reading before you fell asleep. It’s the only one you own, a worn out copy you stole from FIOT’s library during your first week and never returned. The cover is faded and nearly falling off, the pages yellowed and stiff from how many times it’s been read over the last two years.

You’d had a brief discussion about it before you descended into silence, Phil promising you all the books your heart desires once you get to his home. Your home.

It’s your home now too. You’re no longer attached to your family, no longer attached to the institute. Phil is your world now, and you exist solely in his sphere. You’re dependent on him, and once the claim is made and the paperwork is filed, you will be his forever.

There won’t be any going back.

Phil will never change his mind.

The plane jostles again and you grip the arm resting on your leg out of instinct.

“Easy.” Phil shushes you, his lips brushing your forehead. His hand closes around yours, squeezing it gently. “Haven’t flown much, have you?”

“Twice.” You say, your fully awake brain realizing you’re still leaning against his shoulder, but you’re not sure you should move. He obviously likes it if he let it happen. Will he get mad if you try to move? Would he reprimand you on the plane, even if you are quite spaced out in first class?

He hums, resting his cheek on your head. “We’ll go on lots of flights together. I’ll take you all over the world.”

Would he take you to see your family again?

They were friends once. He has to at least know where they are and what they’re doing. Would he do that for you? Or is he going to keep you isolated as expected to prevent those bonds from forming again. Your only bonds should be with him and his pack. Not your old pack that you left behind for a reason.

You don’t know anything about his pack.

You know he has a beta, Bryan, his most trusted beta, from the looks of it. How many others are there? How many other alphas and betas? Is he head alpha, or is there someone else? You can’t imagine Phil not being in charge. He always seemed to take command of a room, even with other alphas. Even with your dad.

Are there other omegas in his pack? Or will you be alone, surrounded by alphas and betas?

Can you even ask him? Or is he saving that for later, when you’re at his home. Would he get annoyed if you asked? Would it ruin his plan that he obviously has laid out?

Your name being said brings you back to reality, your head tilting to look up at Phil. He’s staring down at you, his eyebrows raised.

“Welcome back.” He says, and for a second you wonder if you fell asleep again. “Lost in your head there, huh?”

You swallow thickly. “Yeah. My instructors said I have a lot of strengths, but my one fault is I think too much. Sometimes they’d say I’m sucking all the thoughts out of the room. Though, I think that was less of an insult towards me.”

Phil chuckles. “Got a lot of things going on in that head of yours. Just don’t let it get you too distracted. Hate for something to happen to you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead again as the plane begins its descent.

His words almost feel like a threat again, like a silent warning that something will happen if you don’t stop thinking so much. Will he try to fix that habit for you? Will he try to break you of that? Good omegas don’t have to think, they know and they act. An omega with too many thoughts is too independent. Alphas don’t like independent omegas. They want someone to listen and do as they're told, not question their orders.

You can’t help but sense the silent threat that radiates from him, the undertone of danger that has warning bells going off in your head. He’s been nice and polite and caring so far.

How long will that last once you’re in the privacy of his home?

It’s a nice neighborhood. Nicer than you’ve ever lived in, at least. The houses are big, the cars parked outside are nice, the lawns are pristine. It’s all very picturesque, it all feels very...manufactured.

Phil drives to the end of the cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of one of the two houses facing the rest of the street. There’s an American flag hung up on the porch rustling with the soft breeze. It’s warm outside, something you haven’t missed. It’s been years since you’ve lived in Texas, ten almost. You had been eight years old when your father received his next change of station orders and your family packed up and moved again.

That had just been shortly after Phil disappeared from your family’s lives.

Phil pulls into the garage, parking the SUV next to a rather expensive looking classic sports car. You stare at it for a moment, questioning just what Phil does and how much he makes from doing it. You’re not sure you want to know.

You fumble with the seatbelt as Bryan opens the door for you, blinking yourself out of your haze. He offers a hand and you let him help you out of the car to not seem rude. Phil gives you a small smile as you approach him.

He cups your chin, staring down at your face. “Jet lagged?” He asks, his thumb stroking your jaw before letting you go.

Jet lagged, confused, uncomfortable, unsure. All of the above.

“Yes.” You nod.

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour and then you can nap.” He says, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

He opens the door into the house, unlocked, you note. The inside is nice. Clean, pristine, staged looking. You’re not sure if anyone even lives in the house. You can’t help but wonder if Phil bought this house just for this moment.

“Cleaners come twice a week.” He says as he leads you around the first floor. “This whole space is yours, except for this room.” He says pointing out a door at the end of one hallway. “This is my office. Door’s always locked at all times. No one is allowed in besides me. You see anyone trying to get in, you tell me right away. Understood?”

You nod. The idea of what could be behind that door has a shiver running down your spine.

“Good girl.” He says, booping your nose. “Now, for the best part.”

He leads you upstairs, giving you a quick tour of guest bedrooms that don’t look like they’ve been touched, bathrooms far too clean to have ever been used. Why he needs so much space is beyond you.

No, you know why.

He leads you down to the end of a hallway, a door looming in front of you. You know what’s behind it. It’s what’s been clawing at you since the plane landed, since the drive from the airport, since you stepped foot in Phil’s home. Your home.

It’s nice inside. Clean, well organized. It looks like a stage in a movie. The bed is large, larger than necessary you think. The comforter is a deep navy with nothing but the necessary amount of pillows on it. There’s a chair in the corner that doesn’t look like it’s ever been sat in. A TV hangs on the wall across from the bed and a dresser sits between two doors on the far wall. The closet and bathroom you assume. It’s spacious, but not comforting.

That’s your job.

“Don’t worry, you can add your womanly touch to it later.” Phil says, stepping up behind you. You can’t hide the way your body tenses as his hands slide up your arms. His breath fans over your ear as he leans down, pressing his face against your neck. “We’re going to make good use of this room.” His lips brush your throat, tongue darting out to lick your scent gland. He hums appreciatively. “Sweeter than I remember, those strawberries.” His arms wrap around you, pinning your back against his chest. “We were made for each other.”

Your stomach clenches as his scent intensifies, blending with yours. You try not to panic as his lips drag up the side of your neck. There’s no stopping him. There’s no convincing him to wait.

He presses his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath in. “Get some rest.” He finally releases you. “I’ve got some things to take care of, and I don’t doubt the girls will want to take you shopping.”

“Girls?” You frown, turning to face him.

“The other pack omegas. They’re excited to finally meet you.”

Oh. You haven’t even thought about the pack or how big it is or its dynamics. Everything has happened so quickly, there’s been no time for discussions like that. You suppose you should have that conversation soon. Though, it’s been a long day already and he’s not wrong. You do need some rest.

‘A good night’s sleep is essential for omegas to do their jobs effectively. No alpha wants a whiny omega.’

He brushes his hand over your hair, giving you a soft smile. “Take a nap. You look like you need one.” He presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, closing the door behind him. You stare at it for a long moment, half expecting him to change his mind, but you can hear him going down the stairs. You can hear everything in the silence of the house. It’s almost too quiet after the constant noise of the institute. There’s always someone talking, moving around, making noise. Even at night it was never truly quiet.

Now the silence is almost loud in your ears.

It won’t be silent forever.

You stare at the bed, half tempted to just curl up on the floor. He would be mad if you slept in one of the guest rooms. He’d know immediately. You’ll have to brave the bed. Better to do it now than when you have no choice.

“Look at you!” Hands squeeze your arms. There’s so many scents floating around you, yet it’s comforting. You’re among your own again. “Oh, you’re just a baby aren’t you?”

Natalie, her name is. You had been introduced in a flurry of excitement, and you had lost track of most of their names. Doesn’t matter, you’ll learn them all eventually.

Her alpha is Osmond, ‘Oz’ as he’d told you to call him, Phil’s second alpha. Not necessarily a large man, but highly intimidating nonetheless. You’d guess Natalie to be in her 30s, though you’ve never been good at guessing ages.

“How old are you, sweetie?” She asks, squeezing your arms again. She’s trying to comfort you in your obvious state of overwhelm.

“Eighteen.” You answer, staring up at her.

Something flashes across her face, but it disappears as quickly as it arrived. “You are a baby.” She wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, we’ve got a lot to cover and we’ve got some errands to run.”

There’s a lot of omegas. Phil had finally broken down the pack and its dynamics over a late lunch, even introducing you to a few members on your way to Oz’s house. You had your suspicions that Phil was pack alpha, and you were right. His presence, the kind of power he radiates. You’re going to be the head omega once Phil has claimed you. Natalie has been serving that position, as second alpha’s omega.

You’re not sure you want to take it from her.

They’re all older than you, if by only a couple of years. You do feel like a baby in their midst, so unprepared and unsure. It’s natural to feel that way, you were taught. There’s a shift, a change in dynamics, an adjustment period in the pack when a new omega is added.

Why couldn’t Phil have just been the family alpha type?

“Phil says you’ve known him for a while.” Anna, Marcus’ omega, says.

You nod. “He was friends with my dad when he was stationed in Fort Worth.”

“That was a while ago.” Jenny says.

“About ten years.” You say.

Silence falls in the room for a moment. It’s a tense silence, speaking volumes of their understanding and the realization of the situation. They won’t say anything. They can’t say anything.

“Well,” Natalie says, breaking the silence. “We’re glad you’re here. If you need anything at all, you’ve got us now.” She wraps her arms around you again. She reminds you a bit of your mother, perhaps if your mother hadn’t been constrained by the controlling nature of your father. “All omegas truly have is each other, right?”

The others agree with her, and you can’t deny it. What do omegas really have? Nothing their alphas don’t want them to have. Nothing parents, institutes, anyone in control don’t want them to have.

All we really have is each other.

“I mean it.” Natalie says. “Anything at all.”

They are excited to take you shopping, despite the heaviness of the conversation that had transpired. They spoil you, throwing bags and bags in the back of the SUV, brushing off any concerns about money. Anything you want or need, you get several of them. It’s overwhelming after never getting anything but the bare necessities and what the institute wants you to have.

Marcus, one of the higher ranking alphas in the pack, follows everyone around like a security detail. You had been concerned upon hearing only one alpha was accompanying you...until you saw Marcus for the first time. He’s big. Very big. Tall and bulky, he’s the perfect specimen of an alpha. Many young omegas’ dream alpha. Marcus is intimidating, letting off a dangerous air which causes most that pass your group to not even give you a second glance.

He escorts your small group around, offering up no question or complaint. You almost wish he was going to be your alpha, but then again, you know almost nothing about him. You don’t even really know that much about Phil. Most of the things you know are things you overheard from conversations he had with your father. But how trustworthy are those things, really? You hadn’t understood much until now. Now it all makes sense.

A lot of things make sense now.

Natalie stands with you on the sidewalk as Marcus and Bryan carry load after load of bags into Phil’s house. Your house. You’re scared for what’s coming tonight. Phil won’t wait. He won’t put things off, he won’t hold off until your first heat. He’ll want to make things official now, stake his claim as soon as possible. He’s waited ten years for this.

Natalie smiles softly down at you, a knowing look in her eyes. “Nervous?” She asks, picking up on your uneasy energy.

You nod, trying to stop the tears from pooling in your eyes. Good omegas serve their alphas, no matter what.

“I know what that’s like. I was scared shitless too.” She laughs quietly. “I think Oz was just as nervous too. Just relax and breathe. Phil will take care of you. That I can be confident about.” Her smile turns almost bittersweet. She knows. She understands. “You’ll be alright. I’ll come by tomorrow morning, okay?”

You nod, trying to suppress your nervousness. Natalie will understand, though you’re not so sure Phil will.

You look terrified as you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You bathed an hour ago and yet you still can’t quite bring yourself to leave the bathroom. You smooth your hands over the silk hugging your skin for the thousandth time. You’re shocked you haven’t worn through the thin fabric yet with your sweaty palms.

Your eyes dart down to the sink, your stomach churning wildly as the bedroom door closes. Phil is back. You’ll have to leave the bathroom soon. You can’t spend the whole night behind the locked door.

You don’t doubt he’d break it down eventually.

Then he’ll be angry.

You let out a long breath, curling your hands into fists to stop them from shaking. You have to do this. This is your job, your duty as an omega. Serve your alpha and make him happy. Be a good omega and do what he says. Obedience is an omega’s purpose. This is always what was going to happen, be it with Phil or with a stranger. Perhaps there is a small comfort in the fact you know Phil. You’re familiar with him. Why would he wait ten years for you just to hurt you?

The little food you managed to eat churns uncomfortably in your stomach. Phil had treated you to dinner before he’d left again, giving you time to clean up and prepare yourself for tonight. For right now.

You spritz more scent-enhancing perfume on your skin before you let out a long breath. You try to fix your face, not look quite so terrified, but you’re not sure you can hold it as you unlock the door, turning the knob.

The light in the closet is on, the door half open. Phil must be in there, likely having to maneuver around bags. You’d unpacked some things and put them away, but you’d nearly had a breakdown when you reached the lingerie store bags. You’re wearing some of it now, the silk robe and little white number your fellow omegas had gotten you. Specifically for tonight, you think. You won’t be wearing it again.

The closet door opens fully, Phil standing there in nothing but his jeans. His eyes trail your body as you stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room. His teeth sink into his lip, his scent thickening. You’re trying to look anywhere but at him but you can’t help the way your eyes are drawn to his form. He’s just as tall and muscular as you remember, more lean than bulky like your father had been. His skin is pale, though you can’t imagine him spending much time lounging in the backyard by the pool. Under the awning at the grill with a beer in hand as he used to do, that you can picture.

“Look at you.” He says, turning off the light before stepping fully out of the closet. “All wrapped up like a present just for me.”

You feel like vomiting as he approaches you slowly. You feel like a rabbit trapped in the sights of a hungry wolf, too afraid to run, too afraid to fight back. You’re going to be devoured and there’s no stopping it.

You jump as his hand cups your face, your eyes darting up to his. There’s a soft look in them, an attempt at soothing your fear. There’s nothing he can do to make this easier, though, other than just get it over with.

It’ll get easier. That’s what Anna told you. Eventually your omega will be happy, content with a good alpha and a pack. It’s just an adjustment. That’s why it’s recommended to wait when adding a new omega. Get past the adjustment period before reaching this stage.

How do you stop an alpha that’s been waiting ten years?

Most alphas don’t wait anyway.

“Don’t be scared, darlin’.” He says, lips tilting up in a smile. “I’ll take good care of you.”

His fingers tug at the ties of the robe around your waist, your heart thudding in your chest. You’re shocked he can’t hear it. It’s pulsing in your ears, nearly blocking out all sound as he pulls the tie free, revealing your lacy lingerie underneath. He lets out a low whistle as he pushes the robe off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

“Look. At. You.” He says, enunciating each word. His hands slide down your sides, brushing lace and smooth skin. “Can’t wait much longer.” He nearly groans, his gaze darkening. He steps up closer to you, your gaze locked on his. You can’t look down, you can’t stare at the tent in his jeans, you can’t stare at the bulge that’s brushing against your pelvis with every breath. “You ever done this before?” He asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “N-No.”

“No?” He raises a brow. “Not even a kiss?”

You shake your head.

“Pure little thing, all for me.” He nearly growls, pushing his body fully against yours. His hand cups the side of your neck, something tingling in the back of your brain as his fingers brush the sensitive skin on the back of your neck.

You’re distracted from that tingle though as he kisses you, his lips rough against yours. You’re not sure what to do, but he doesn’t seem to care. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. Your stomach is churning, not entirely from nerves anymore as his scent completely takes over, clouding your mind. Despite your nerves and hesitation, your omega purrs appreciatively. He smells good, like alpha. It’s exactly what your omega wants, what she’s been craving.

“Fuck,” He groans against your lips, hands tugging at the lace covering your lower back. “So fucking sweet.” He bites at your lower lip, harder than you're expecting. You let out a quiet nose but that only seems to encourage him.

He pulls away from you, turning you towards the bed. Your palms fall against the mattress to catch yourself. The comforter has been pulled down, your hands falling against the sheets. White sheets.

Phil’s hands drag up your back until it reaches the top of the lace. He rips it easily, tearing it down the back before he pushes it off your shoulders. His hands run over your skin as he pushes the lace from your body, his back meeting your chest. His skin is warm against yours, his bulge pushing up against your ass at this angle.

“Sweet little omega.” He growls, pressing his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “All for me. All mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, alpha.” You say, fingers curling into the sheet beneath your hands.

He hums appreciatively, nipping at the skin over your scent gland. You can’t help but begin to feel a stirring in your stomach. It feels good, despite everything. Your omega is growing complacent, the promise of what’s coming not nearly quite so frightening.

It gets easier.

Phil’s hands rest on your stomach, pushing your body tight against his. “Can’t wait for your next heat.” He groans, pushing his hips against your ass. “Gonna pump you full until it takes, give you a pup like you’ll be begging for. Keep you pumped full, just like your mama, huh. You’ll give me a big pack, won’t you?”

You’re glad he can’t see your face as he holds you there, your eyes glued to the white sheet in front of you. You desperately fight back the tears blurring your vision.

“Yes, alpha.”

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #alternate universe #au of an au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha philip graves #omega reader

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umseb · 4 months ago

Text

The Day Sebastian Vettel Decided To Retire From F1 — Then Annoyed Aston Bosses With Climate Campaign

Two years ago, Sebastian Vettel decided to bring an end to his glittering F1 career, so picked up the phone to Matt Bishop, then Aston Martin comms boss. He details the ensuing scramble and Vettel's increasing determination to speak out

Just over two years ago, on Wednesday July 27, 2022, I was forced to do something that I really hate doing: at the eleventh hour I had to cancel a long-standing dinner arrangement with my husband and two of our dearest friends, who live in New York and were on holiday in London for a week. The reason was that, at 5 pm that afternoon, I received a phone call from Sebastian Vettel telling me that he had decided to announce his retirement from Formula 1 in the Hungarian Grand Prix paddock the following day. I was Aston Martin's chief communications officer at the time, and, when something as big as that is sprung on a Formula 1 team's most senior comms/PR operative, he or she has to drop everything and focus on briefing colleagues in confidence, writing press releases, planning social media content, arranging press conferences, and formulating comms/PR strategies designed to optimise the management of a tricky news narrative that in this case would surely unfold rapidly, and perhaps also trickily, over the next 24, 48, 72, and 96 hours. I have written above that Vettel had "sprung" his decision on me, but, although the imminence of his announcement was a surprise, its content was not. Four months earlier you will recall that he did not travel to Jeddah for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, since he was recovering from a bout of Covid-19. His place was taken by Nico Hülkenberg, who, despite race-rustiness caused by his not having competed in F1 the previous year, did a typically excellent job.

Seb had made no secret of his disapproval of the Saudi regime when we had all gone there the first time, in December 2021, and, not surprisingly, in March 2022 rumours soon began to spread to the effect that he had invented a Covid-19 diagnosis so as to avoid racing there a second time. The truth was that he had indeed had Covid-19, and that he was indeed still unwell; however, was he disappointed to have had to skip the 2022 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix? No, he was not. Two weeks later, in Melbourne, he was back. On the Thursday before the Australian Grand Prix, in the Albert Park paddock, I gave him his comms/PR briefing, as was my habit on the Thursday before every grand prix. We discussed media matters of moment, including his not having raced in Jeddah. "The truth is that I was ill, honestly," he said, "but I admit that I don't like or approve of the country, so if I was going to have to miss a race because of Covid-19 that's probably the one I'd want to miss." He paused, smiled, and added, "I'm pretty sure I'm never going to race there again." Then and there I realised that 2022 would probably be his final season as an F1 driver. Not only was the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix going to be a fixture on the F1 calendar for years to come, but also one of Aston Martin's principal sponsors was Aramco, Saudi Arabia's state-owned national oil company. Missing that particular race without a 24-carat excuse would henceforth therefore be impossible for any Aston Martin driver. So, axiomatically, it followed that the only way he could make sure that he would never have to race there again would be to retire from F1 at the end of the year.

On the morning of Thursday, July 28, 2022, having worked until 3 am the night before, my comms/PR team and I issued a video in which our much loved four-time world champion announced his F1 retirement in his own words, and he posted it on his then brand-new Instagram channel at the same time. It included the following sentences, which he spoke with his usual eloquence: "I love this sport but, as much as there's life on track, there's also life off track. Being a racing driver has never been my sole identity. I want to be a great father and a great husband. I believe in change, and progress, and that every little bit you do can make a difference. We all have the same rights, no matter where we come from, what we look like, or whom we love. I'm an optimist and I believe that people are good, but, in addition, I feel that we live in very difficult times. How we shape the next few years will determine the rest of our lives. Talk is not enough. We can't afford to wait. I believe that there's still a race to win." The race to which he was referring was his growing and accelerating commitment to doing whatever he could to leverage his fame and popularity for the good of the inhabitants of planet Earth. That may sound grandiose, but it is also entirely valid. In the two years during which I worked with him, 2021 and 2022, we won awards for the inspirational way in which he did just that.

Just before the 2021 Styrian Grand Prix, helped by local schoolchildren, he created an F1 car-shaped 'bee hotel' at the Red Bull Ring. Three weeks later, straight after the British Grand Prix, in which he had raced hard for forty laps until his Aston Martin's Mercedes engine had terminally overheated, he led a group of volunteer litter-pickers to clear the Silverstone grandstands of the trash that irresponsible spectators had left behind. A month after that, in Hungary, infuriated by that country's new anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, he wore rainbow-coloured sneakers in the F1 paddock, and he donned a similarly hued T-shirt bearing the legend #SameLove as he took the knee on the grid before the race. Throughout the weekend he had talked to journalists and TV crews intelligently, thoughtfully, and compassionately on the subject of LGBTQ+ rights, equality, and inclusion. In May 2022 he visited and spoke inspirationally at HMP (Her, or now His, Majesty's Prison) Feltham, a young offenders institution in a suburb of west London, formally opening a new workshop in which the teenage inmates could learn how to become car mechanics as part of their rehabilitation. Immediately afterwards he and I took a South Western Railways train to London's Waterloo Station, sitting among regular commuters, so that he could spend time with the pupils of Oasis Johanna Primary School, which is in a disadvantaged part of inner London, and after that we went by Uber taxi to a church in Hackney, in the East End, where the BBC's prestigious political television talk show Question Time would be filmed. As the TV cameras rolled, he conversed fluently on the subjects of Brexit, the UK's cost of living crisis, the then-Prime Minister Boris Johnson's 'partygate' shenanigans, and even Finland's desire to join NATO, consummately out-arguing one of his fellow panellists, Suella Braverman, who was then the Attorney General for England and Wales and the Advocate General for Northern Ireland.

In addition, as the months went by, he continued to speak out in support of what he saw as humankind's collective global responsibility to address the climate crisis, doing so with increasing regularity, vehemence, and fearlessness, with the result that he began to irritate the very most senior people at Aston Martin, even though what he said tended to please most journalists and fans. "I don’t care," he said when he learned of his big bosses' disquiet. "I must do what's right." Behind the scenes what he did was perhaps even more admirable. F1 teams receive communications from troubled people all the time. You try to do what you can to help them, but sometimes their difficulties are of the type that human kindness alone cannot resolve. I am thinking of recently bereaved people, terminally ill people, profoundly disabled people, people with debilitating mental health issues, etc. Sometimes all you can do is send them a team cap signed by a driver. It is not much, and it breaks your heart that you cannot do more, but it is better than nothing.

Yet Vettel always tried to do more. On one occasion, I had been contacted by a young man who was deeply depressed. I told Seb about him, and he said, "Let's do a Zoom call with him." So I arranged it. I had thought that Seb might speak for five minutes or so, but no. He chatted animatedly for more than twenty minutes, with touching humility and heart-warming empathy, and I feel confident when I say that those twenty-odd minutes were significant in expediting the lad's mental and emotional recovery. A few months later, Seb hand-wrote the boy a four page letter. He gave it to me at a grand prix-I cannot remember which one-and he instructed me to post it on when I returned to the UK. I read it before I did so, and the tenderness and beauty of Seb's prose brought me to tears. There are many other examples of his remarkable generosity and sensitivity: too many to mention, in fact. This column has been about Vettel the man, not Vettel the driver. He was fast and clever in the cockpit, and I may well write about that side of him one day. I could write much more about Vettel the man, too, for I have dozens of stories that I could tell on that subject, because I worked very closely with him for two years and, more importantly, because he is a truly great man. In my long career I am lucky enough to have spent time in F1 teams with four world champions-Seb, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, and Jenson Button-and they are all fantastic guys in their own, very different, ways. But, in my 61 years on this planet, I can state with confident and emphatic certainty that Sebastian Vettel, from the small town of Heppenheim, south-west Germany, is one of the most impressive people whom I have ever had the pleasure and honour to know, whether that be inside or outside F1. As he is fond of saying, "You can't always be the best, but you can always do your best." As a maxim to live by, it is hard to beat.

article by matt bishop

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euovennia · 2 years ago

Note

I am yet again requesting headcanons for the 141 (or whoever you want <3) with a reader who has an angry resting face. And to add onto that, they are very expressive with their love but it comes off as aggressive (not on purpose) because they always look, you know, mad. Like when reader says "I love you," it sounds like a threat and really, they look like they wanna kill them, but they don’t.

whew, i'm so sorry for the wait on this! i took a small break from tumblr so i could focus on finishing some assignments i had for my classes, but they're all completed and turned in so i should be good for now! also i wasn't 100% sure if you wanted this to be platonic or romantic, so i tried to write it to where it could be interpreted as both. thank you for requesting and, as always, i hope you enjoy :)

warnings: none other than the fact that i don't know how to stop myself from typing more than i need to

summary: the 141 learns to adjust to life with their newest recruit; you.

john 'soap' mactavish

when price first introduces you to the group, he can't help but feel like he's done something wrong

and honestly no one can really blame him for feeling that way

the expression that paints your face when you make eye contact with him practically screams, "sleep with one eye open"

and while it is mildly terrifying, he only sees it as a challenge

because in his mind, if he can get the mighty ghost to warm up to him, he can get anyone to warm up to him

so as soon as price cuts you loose from the brief introductions, he's already right by your side pestering you with various questions

and while it was a bit off-putting, you weren't really surprised because price had already told you all about soap before he decided he wanted you on his team

so you just kinda stood there and let him fire off his questions while answering them with that angry expression and bored monotone voice that he can't help but love

like you're standing there, arms crossed with perhaps one of the most pissed off expressions he's ever seen in his life but all his mind can think is >:(

needless to say, he doesn't take your prickly exterior too seriously and it's because of this he's able to get closer to you a lot quicker than the other members do

and it's because of this he tends to vouch for you a lot more to the other members when it comes to getting to know you

"they're not that bad, i swear!"

"johnny, they look like they wanna rip your arm off every time you're near them."

"but they don't, that's the funny part!"

best believe this man is fighting for his life whenever your rbf gets brought into the conversation

and i imagine that one day you actually manage to overhear one of these little debates/conversations (tbh they could go either way with how divided they can be over it, especially when it's gaz vs soap)

and you can't just ignore the way your heart warms as you hear soap valiantly defend your honor

it's one of the few times you're genuinely thankful for his big mouth

after listening in to the conversation for a few more minutes you eventually decide to walk away, heart full and the smallest of smiles pulling at the edge of your lips

i think it goes without saying that you go a little sweet on him after that encounter

well

as sweet as you can go when you're the human embodiment of >:(

at least in the opinion of soap

you don't really see the resemblance tbh

anyway

you start doing little things for him

things like offering to take watch for him when you're both on a mission because you noticed that he hadn't really bothered getting any rest

sitting by his side and letting him ramble on about his family, especially how he always begged his parents to let him stay with his nan over the summer because she owned a little family farm that he absolutely loved to run around on

and even the time you learned how to make scotch pie using his mom's recipe he had tucked away in his room

no matter how much he may deny it, that last one had him tearing up as soon as he took a bite

but honestly, can you blame him?

the man barely gets to visit his parents back home because of his work and it crushes him

honestly, it was probably one of the first few things he confided in you when you first started talking

so naturally when price announces that the 141 has been approved for a two week leave, you don't hesitate in logging onto the computer and buying him the first tickets back to scotland

what you do hesitate with is actually giving them to him

so you decide to gloss over that part completely and instead opt for shoving the tickets inside an plain envelope with his name scribbled on the front and a small note that simply reads, "go." before sliding it under his door the night before everyone is scheduled to depart from base

the moment soap gets his hands on those tickets he can't help the way he runs through the halls and bursts into your room to give you the biggest hug you've ever had in your life

unfortunately for you both, you'd already left base by the time he discovered the tickets

and so with a heavy heart, soap makes his way back to his room before packing his bags with a new vigor

the plane leaves in six hours, but he's so excited he can't help but want to arrive early

needless to say those are probably the best two weeks of his life

and while the others are interested in hearing all about his trip, he simply brushes them off in favor watching the door so he can be there for the exact moment you walk in

and after making him wait more than what he felt was necessary, you finally walk in

and this man

the way he shoots up from his seat and runs over to hug you

it's almost enough to send you both flying to the ground

but luckily you've got some stellar balance and manage to save yourselves from being teased by the rest of the team

but with the way soap is squeezing onto you while repeatedly whispering, "thank you," into the nape of your neck, you don't doubt they'll make fun of you for that

even with the mild embarrassment you feel, you simply wrap your arms around the scottish man and offer him a few pats on the back

and as sweet as it is for the other men to witness such a tender scene, they can't help but notice how upset you look

it's almost laughable

and as much as they want to step in and tell soap to back off, they can't help but notice the way you cling onto soap with that soft look in your eyes

so they remain quiet as you and soap hang onto each other, hearts full of warmth

kyle 'gaz' garrick

i'm gonna say it now

out of anyone in the 141, he was probably the one most intimidated by you

he's the youngest out of everyone and so it stands that, naturally, he has less experience than others

it's for this reason i think he's so keen on staying close to price

i mean the man practically plucked him off the streets and said, "you're mine now," so i think it's reasonable that gaz grows a tad more attached to price than the other members

so when he catches a few glimpses of you around base barking orders at the recruits and slamming them into the mats during sparring sessions, he's not exactly dying to meet you

even so, he finds he's not too worried about the possibility

with how often the 141 departs base to go on various missions and how you always seem to be too caught up in whatever you're doing at the time to be bothered to even glance his way, he eventually comes to the conclusion that you'll never meet

until one day price strolls into the common area where he and the rest of the team are minding their own business with you trailing right beside him looking aggravated as ever

he's already a bit uneasy with the fact you now know where the team goes to relax, but that unease slowly shifts to downright horror when price reveals that you're the newest member of the team

now gaz is usually a pretty easygoing and friendly guy so any chance to meet and bond with new people is always bound to be a good time in his book

but he can't help the shiver that crawls up his spine whenever you're around

seriously, who or what made you look so pissed off all the time?

anyway

because he's so hesitant of being around you, he tries his hardest not to bother you

which basically means he tries not to be in the same room as you

and while you may not really notice or care, the rest of the team certainly does

especially price

he's the type of man who prides himself on having a team that knows they can all rely on one another on and off the field and so he'll be damned if you and gaz are the ones to ruin his little streak

so guess who gets assigned to accompany you and the recruits on your morning workouts from now on?

gaz!

and while he's not necessarily thrilled about the idea of being forced into such close proximity to you, especially first thing in the morning, he respects price enough to not question his decision and just ends up going along with it

and at first he doesn't really pay you much attention in an effort to not do anything to accidentally make you even more upset than he already assumes you are

but then he starts to notice something

he notices the way the recruits light up whenever they see you, whether it be during the morning workout sessions or when you're walking around base

and it baffles him because you just look so upset, he can't possibly imagine why they're all so keen on sending you wide smiles or enthusiastic waves

but one day he looks just a little bit closer and he can see the faintest hint of amusement on your face as your lips showcase the ghost of a smile

that's when he really starts to pay attention

and suddenly he can't help but feel a little ashamed of himself

because now he can practically feel his heart melt every time you interact with the recruits

like how you would bring extra ice-cold water bottles to the morning workouts for the recruits who'd forget to bring their own

or the way you wouldn't hesitate to slide them some money if they mentioned being hungry while you were around

and especially how you don't hesitate to lend an ear for them if they seemed to be troubled by something

it's in those few little moments that he can see just the tiniest cracks through your annoyed expression and heated glares

you're not angry at all, he decides, just real shit at expressing yourself

and upon deciding this, he realizes you're not so scary anymore

so now instead of avoiding you like the plague, he actively seeks you out

at first it's to help you out with carrying the extra water bottles for the recruits in the morning and planning the workouts for the week

but then it turns into him asking to sit with you at the mess hall over dinner and keeping each other company in the commons area

and as much as he tries not to, he can't help the giddiness that floods his body when you start to show him that aggressive love he sees you dish out to the recruits

shoving snacks into his hands when you notice he hasn't eaten in a while

quietly sitting with him while he goes through paperwork because you both know he has a tendency to get distracted

and his personal favorite, draping your jacket over him when you walk in on him sleeping anywhere that isn't his room

he always wakes up with a smile tugging on his lips

and despite how cold and distant you may look while doing these things, he doesn't give it much attention anymore

not when he can see the love and care that's reflected in your eyes

simon 'ghost' riley

despite you and ghost having similar exteriors, it becomes more and more apparent to gaz and soap that you're actually quite different

which isn't a bad thing, of course! just a bit unexpected

but it's because of this striking difference that you and simon tend to keep a majority of your interactions on the field

and you both are more than happy to keep it this way

gaz and soap however, are not

so naturally they put together a plan; a plan that consists of soap giving you his most treasured tactical pen so you can use it to write away in that little journal of yours on the ride back from missions just so he can later "confront" ghost and admonish him for stealing said pen

and during all this, gaz simply remains on the sidelines just looking pretty

anyway

after laying into simon for a good ten minutes, soap walks away from the encounter with a small smile before walking up to gaz and saying something like, "now we wait"

and they do wait

patiently

but after a full two weeks pass by and neither gaz or soap can find any evidence of their so called "master plan" working, they can't help but feel a little discouraged

unbeknownst to them, it totally worked

just not in the way they envisioned

you see, by the time soap came up to simon to lecture him about stealing his pen, ghost had already come to notice you scribbling into your notebook with it

so once soap had finally decided to leave him alone, he immediately confronted you about framing him for such a crime

but you just kinda stare up at him with that annoyed look of yours before revealing soap had willingly given it to you

and things just kinda click into place for the two of you; soap wanted to get you talking

and while you and simon had to admit it wasn't a bad plan, you didn't want to give the scotsman the satisfaction of knowing it had actually worked

so whenever you and simon find yourselves in the company of the rest of the team, you decide to remain distant

but when it's just the two of you?

you're straight chilling

especially when you visit him in his room or vice versa

like just imagine the two of you drinking tea that simon was nice enough to make and watching war movies while bashing all the inaccuracies and bad calls the characters make

or when the two of you are out and about on base free from the prying eyes of gaz and soap because they're out doing their own thing

you and simon love finding random groups of rowdy soldiers just to intimidate them

i don't know about you, but i can definitely see simon just standing there with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed while you rest your hands on your hips with your lips pulled into a frown

price definitely gets complaints about the two of you

he does nothing about them

and for a while that's pretty much the gist of how you and simon spend your time together

but i like to imagine that after a particularly rough mission, simon would seek you out just to sit with you

and i can see him as a stress smoker so when he finally does manage to find you and take a seat beside you, you slide him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter

he doesn't ask how you know his cigarette preference, but instead gives you a small nod of approval before pulling up his mask over lips and taking a drag

and that's how you spend your night

just sitting beside each other as you watch the evening sky gradually begin to fill with stars

i think it would depend on how bad the mission went in order to determine exactly how long the two of you stay sitting under the stars, but it doesn't matter because it'll end the same way; you reaching over and giving simon's hand a quick squeeze with a small, "get some sleep, simon. you need it," before you walk away

and he finds himself confused to two reasons

reason one: why did you grab his hand why did he like it?

reason two: how can you say such sweet words but still look so mad?

as much as he wants to play that moment over in his head just to make sure he was remembering things right, he decides against it in favor of heeding your words and getting some sleep

but it's after that moment he can't help but notice how your mannerisms have changed

not only are your words of reassurance more apparent than before, he's also noticed you have a tendency to give his hand/shoulder a reassuring squeeze every now and then

he can't help the small smile that threatens to pull at his lips when you do

but he also can't help but notice how distant and reserved your face looks when you do all of these things

he doesn't really mind it though

but he eventually does bring it up to you one day

it's probably after he tells you one of his god awful dad jokes

like he'll look over at you and notice your sour expression and say something like, "don't look so pissed, they're not that bad."

and you'll respond with a tilt of your head as you tell him, "i'm not pissed. i like your jokes."

then he'll nudge your shoulder before telling you, "with that face? coulda fooled me."

and you'll roll your eyes in faux annoyance as you brush him off with a simple, "that's just my face."

and then he'll look down at you, thankful for his mask so you can't see the small smile making its way onto his face

he might even say something dumb and cheesy like, "i know. i like it."

and you give him one of your rare smiles

and i could end it there and say the two of you are bffs

or i could sprinkle in something about soap running up on the two of you chanting, "my plan worked, my plan worked!"

that's for you to decide

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madschiavelique · 1 year ago

Note

HSUDHDBD!!! I love your work sm and I really enjoy reading it 😭😭 (tears of joy) they're literally works of art and honestly I hope that someday that I'll be better at writing than how I am now :' also a lil request i have in mind is a lil Miguel x Reader sort of thing like,, aftercare after a night of some rough seggs?? That or just taking care of said Reader when they're in any sort of pain (ex; period cramps, dealing with trauma, etc)

OMG THANK U SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAA AND YES THIS YES

i chose to write on miguel taking care of reader when they're on their periods (because i am, endometriosis is hitting hard af DFQZRESG)

summary : Miguel takes care of you when you're on your periods

content warnings : mentions of menstrual blood (reader is on their periods), other than that it's absolute fluff - so sweet you'll get cavities after reading this, afab reader, no use of Y/N word count : 2k

tag list : @fandom-ash

status of my requests according to the date of this post : CLOSED (asks are open though)

Fuck.

You'd woken up in the middle of the night with a terrible tummy ache, a hot, heavy pain felt in your lower abdomen accompanied by an intense hot flush that took over your whole body unpleasantly. You had a good suspicion of what it was, so you got up, trying not to make too much noise, although every movement seemed to give you incredible pain, making you whimper.

Miguel groaned in his sleep as you stood up, bent over as your belly and the low of your back ached excruciatingly. You made your way to the bathroom, which fortunately wasn't too far from your bedroom, each step making you feel as if your thighs were about to separate from your pelvis.

You pulled down your panties, a dark stain soaking the fabric. You sat down, taking the opportunity to really go to the bathroom, and when you wiped, the vibrant carmine color covered the paper.

Fuck. Shit. Son of a bitch.

You had your period, and it was never pleasant. You knew they'd be coming soon, it had been at least three days if not more since you'd started to feel cramps in your lower abdomen and pain in your breasts, the only surprise you had left was when they'd arrive.

And they'd chosen the delightful moment of the middle of the night to wake you up, how thoughtful of them, how generous. You sighed, your panties were full of blood, you had to get yourself another pair, which meant coming back into the room and trying not to make too much noise for Miguel.

You stood up, putting your knickers in the laundry, unable to find the strength to clean them now. You opened Miguel's cabinet, but found no painkillers... You'd forgotten to stock up on painkillers for your period. An umpteenth sigh of desolation took hold of you as you came to pinch the bridge of your nose.

You closed the cabinet door and turned to see Miguel, which surprised you a little. His eyebrows were furrowed, his nostrils flaring slightly as he inhaled.

"Something's wrong?"

It had only been two weeks since you'd moved into Miguel's quarters, and before that you'd avoided seeing him when that time of the month came around for you. The smell of your body and what it was expelling must have alerted him to your condition. You inhaled, rubbing your eyes as your belly suddenly clenched and you had to sit back down on the toilet.

Miguel immediately knelt down in front of you as the cramps made you bend double until your forehead touched your knees, completely distraught by your condition.

"Nena, what's going on?" he asked, stroking your back with one hand and your leg with the other. "Please tell me."

You breathed in, trying to articulate as the pain brought you to tears.

"I'm on my periods," you managed to say through clenched teeth.

He said nothing, and you wiped your eyes as you looked down at your knees.

"I'm so sorry I woke you up," you said, trembling as you tried to breathe properly, the wave of cramp easing slightly.

"Hey," he says, taking your chin between his fingers, bringing your eyes to his worried ones, "don't apologize. Just tell me what you need me to do right now."

You looked up at him, eyes moist.

"I need another pair of panties, a pad... I put some here in the closet," you said, pointing to said closet in the room, "and a painkiller for now." you said softly.

Miguel nodded, kissing you gently before standing up.

"Don't move," he said before leaving the room.

It was probably the easiest order you'd ever get from him, if not the nicest. So you just sat there, completely folded in on yourself, waiting.

Miguel returned with one of your panties in hand, opened the cupboard to grab the packet of sanitary pads you'd placed there, and came to kneel before you again, handing you both items.

You took the undies and pulled them down to your ankles, mechanically opening your sanitary towel package and placing it over your underwear. You then stood up in front of him, pulling the panties up over you, sitting back down.

He watched you, his tongue creating a tent in his cheek.

"For the painkiller, I don't have any pills. I only have one that's... peculiar." he told you as he stroked your calf gently.

"Which is?" you asked softly, feeling a little safer from creating stains now that you were carrying something against you.

He said nothing, simply opening his mouth and pointing to his slightly extended canine.

You knew that Miguel had an antidote in the venom he secreted that acted as both a painkiller and a sedative. The latter, come to think of it, would not only allow you to sleep peacefully, but also to feel less pain.

"Bite me, Miguel," you asked, almost desperate for him to bring you any sense of relief.

He inhaled, nodding.

"Open your legs, the closer to the pain the bite the faster the venom will act."

You bit the inside of your cheek, this will be unexpectedly sexy, you thought.

So you spread your legs, moving closer to the edge of the toilet. His warm hand came to rest on your thigh, Miguel coming as close as possible to the inside of it as your hand caressed his hair.

You felt his hot breath on your skin before he bit down. The abrupt sensation of his canines in your skin made you tighten your grip on his hair, but he didn't flinch. He let the venom spread, then retracted his teeth as he ran a gentle stroke of his tongue over both slits, finishing the act with a gentle kiss over them.

"Good," he said simply as he straightened up.

He brought one hand behind your back, the other coming to rest behind your knees, and raising you against him princess style. You brought your arms around his neck, as he led you out of the bathroom.

"I can walk, you know that right?" you smile against him.

"In this state? I won't let you move," he replied.

He led you into your bedroom, laying you gently on the bed. He came to lie behind you, pulling the comforter up over you both as he curled up against you, becoming the big spoon. He placed his hand on your lower belly, the warmth of the latter soothing a little the fire dwelling there.

The venom was also starting to take effect, making you want to sleep again and greatly easing your pain. He kissed the back of your neck and you drifted off to sleep.

You felt so soothed. You'd been dreading a situation like this, but in the end Miguel had reacted perfectly, and you fell asleep much more relaxed.

When you woke up, the antidote was gradually fading from your blood. You were wrapped up in your comforters so snugly that you didn't want to move, and you weren't going to.

You opened your eyes, and on your bedside table were four different boxes of medicine, with a glass of water beside them. Miguel must have got some painkillers for you, and probably not knowing exactly which brand you preferred, he'd taken several.

You smiled, straightening up slightly to sit down and pick up the box you were most familiar with to take a pill and drink it immediately.

"Lyla?" you asked, putting the glass back down.

"Well hello," the little orange pixel cloud materialized before your eyes.

"Is Miguel away?" you asked.

"In truth, he's in the kitchen right now, preparing..." she checked her data, and quoted the name of your favorite dish.

You made a little pout mixed with a smile, Miguel was really taking care of you till the last bits of himself.

You straightened up, placing your foot on the floor as you grimaced. You had to go and change your pad, and although the deal was unpleasant, you got up to go to the bathroom. But first, you made a detour to the kitchen to at least say hello to Miguel.

You arrived in the kitchen, the smell of your dish's ingredients wafting through the air.

"Buenos dias, bebé", you smiled as you entered the kitchen, leaning against the wall.

He turned immediately, surprised not only by your little use of Spanish, but especially by the fact that you were standing. He approached you, smiling gently as he kissed your forehead.

"I told you that I wouldn't let you move," he said, coming over to stroke your hair.

"I just came to tell you good morning," you assured him as you brought your hand to his waist.

He pretended to think, "not a sufficient excuse to move."

"I have to change my pad ?" you offered as another explanation.

"Still not a valid excuse, nena." he smiled before taking you by the waist and raising you against him, his hands resting on your back and thighs as he led you to the bathroom.

You sighed, but couldn't help appreciating the attention he was giving you. He set you down in the bathroom, letting you change your pad, then taking you back into his arms as he led you back into the bedroom.

He laid you gently on the bed.

"Don't move," he said again, "really."

"I won't, I promise." you said, putting your hand on your heart as you covered yourself with the comforter.

He smiled softly, kissing you before standing up and leaving the room. "Lyla," you called again, the cloud appearing once more, "report on Miguel's occupations since waking up." "As good as done, Chief," she smiled as she brought up a small timetable showing each of his activities. "Miguel woke up this morning at eight o'clock, his first demand being to give him as much documentation on menstruation as possible. After reading a number of articles, he asked me questions about what to do for a loved one at a time like this. Subsequently, Miguel went to the various commercial areas of the society where he made several purchases including: a hot water bottle, a whole bag of snacks, a variety of ingredients for lunch, a dozen packets of sanitary pads, and four tablets of different pills to treat the symptoms." You glanced at your bedside table, "Finally, he filed for leave this week. Since his return, he has begun preparing the dish. Shortly afterwards, you woke up."

Your heart clenched with emotion. Miguel had done all this? For your sake? You could feel the tears welling up, the sensitivity brought on by the periods not helping your situation.

Miguel came back into the room, hot water bottle in hand, but noticing your shining eyes and trembling chin, he rushed over to you.

"Is everything okay ? Why are you crying, nena?"

You're the why, you thought, in the most adorable and safe possible way you are the one making me cry.

You threw yourself at him, taking him in your arms and holding him close as hot tears rolled down your cheeks.

"I love you," you whispered against him.

You felt him relax under this revelation, coming to wrap his arms around your back as he pulled you into his embrace.

"I love you too, nena." he whispered as he came to cup your wet cheeks, kissing your lips softly there.

You looked up at him, your eyes tender with love.

"I brought you a hot water bottle," he smiled, showing it to you.

You gave a little laugh, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

"Thanks," you grinned as you took it in your hands, its comforting warmth perfect for your body's torment.

"Would you like to watch something? Just tell me what you'd like and I'll take care of it."

You smiled wider, sighing lovingly as you offered to watch one of your comfort movies. He nodded, coming to kiss you again.

These would probably be the best periods you'd ever had, and it was all thanks to him.

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angiesmagicspace · 1 year ago

Text

The Met and the Aftermath

Pairing: idol! Hongjoong x reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: mile-high club, oral (male and female), unprotected sex, breeding, dirty talk, name-calling (princess, baby, slut, etc.), semi-public touching, slight voyeurism, possessive behavior, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, unless its intentional)

Summary: Honjoong dream finally came true, and he can share that dream with you, his lovely girlfriend. Although one comment from his favorite designer made him forget about going to the after-party. Instead, he held the after-party in your hotel bedroom, only for the two of you.

Authors note: It took me a month to write this, so I hope you like it as much as I do. This is not proofread but honestly I couldnt care less.

Masterlist

Your request

The first Monday in May, for some a day like every other, but for the fashion world it means Met Monday. And for you, it means another year of waking up bright and early so you and your beloved boyfriend Hongjoong can rate the outfits on the red carpet. It's something both of you enjoyed very much. Every year, you would witness the passion and admiration Hongjoong has for fashion. He would watch the whole event with a notebook in hand just so he could write all his opinions on the outfits and the designer's name for each one. Sometimes he would stay up even after he had seen all the outfits and sketch his idea for an outfit for this year's theme. Every year you wish he would get an invitation, but sadly not many K-pop idols are invited, it's usually maybe five every year. And every year he would remind you that even if he got invited, he would love to go with his members and not alone. Even though everyone around you thought that no matter what, he deserved to go alone or with someone.

Surprisingly, a few days after this year's Met gala, his manager called him to a meeting about something very exciting and essential. Hongjoong was very nervous walking out of the apartment to go to that meeting; even though he knew it wasn't anything bad, the whole secrecy about it scared him a bit. While he was in a meeting, you went on with your day, not thinking too much about it. In the evening, you were at home just chilling in the living room when Hongjoong burst through the door with the biggest smile on his face. “Someone is in a good mood. How did the meeting go?” you asked him while slowly approaching to hug him. “Babe, you won't believe what happened. Try to guess, I will give you a hint. It's something I wanted all of my life.” he blurted out, almost jumping from how excited he was. “I don't know, they finally found a way to make you taller.” you giggled while he just frowned. “ Ha ha very funny now be serious the answer is more simple than you think.” he encouraged you. To him, it was only logical that you would make a connection between his joy after the meeting and the gala you two watched a couple of days ago. “ I want to be right about my guess, if my gut isn't tricking me, someone was invited to the Met,” you said a little unsure, because what if you were wrong, and now he's just going to be disappointed. But to your surprise, he just smiled even bigger, silently confirming your guess. “ Oh my God, Hongjoong, that's amazing. I am so happy for you, oh God, you must be so excited.” you practically screamed in his face, hugging him as tightly as possible. “Thank you, baby, I am so excited about this. Though I am the only one out of the group that has been invited. Although they did allow me to bring a plus-one, I really want you to be my plus-one. Will you give me the honor of bringing you as my plus-one?” he explained everything in a matter of seconds, he was talking like he was in a rush or something. His fast talking didn't give you the time to really process everything. I mean, it is a huge deal to be invited to an event like this, this was huge for him but also for you. It wouldn't be your first public appearance with him, but you never attended an event of such significance. But despite your initial fears and thoughts, you knew he wouldn't forgive you if you didn't go. “Of course, I will go with you. I would never miss something so meaningful to you. But also I will get a chance to be dressed in a fancy gown and jewelry. I would be a fool if I said no to such an offer.” you say to him, already imagining the whole event even though it's a year away. “Now that you have mentioned dressing up. I already know the designer that will be dressing both you and me for this spectacular night.” he said excitedly, “You know how I went to that Balmain show a month ago, well it seems like Olivier really liked my opinions and style, and he is the one that decided to invite me among other celebrities.” You knew how huge this was, a lot of brands would buy entire tables and fill them with celebrities they like, meaning that Balmain and Olivier choose him, particularly because they also believe that he deserves this. You didn't know what to say, so you just hugged him, feeling like a proud mom.

After this big announcement, your schedule turned upside down. Both of you needed to find some inspiration for what you are going to wear because everything you will be wearing that night will be hand sawn in the next few months. Also, all the jewelry will be made in that time, so everyone needed to act quick. You never realized how much time the preparations for the Met Gala take this much time. Of course, you heard every celebrity bragging about how much time was needed for their outfit to be made, but you never really thought about the numbers they were mentioning. Hongjoong took matters into his own hands, trying to find the perfect inspiration for both of the outfits. You weren't allowed to know the theme, at least Hongjoong tried to keep it a secret from you. All you knew is that the outfits needed to be dark and seductive, which to be honest already sounded like a nightmare to you. You really are attracted to Hongjoong, sometimes even the little things he does can turn you on. So knowing, that you will need to deal with a night full of him just being in his element dressed in some sexy suit, it didn't really bring you peace.

At the beginning of June, you had your first meeting with Olivier in Paris. Of course, Hongjoong needed to be extra, so he rented a private jet for you two to go there. At first, his need to be extra seemed like he just wanted to be a diva, which you understood. But on the day of the flight, it was very clear why he wanted the two of you in the private jet. That morning, you woke up to the feeling of his hands slowly caressing your ass, which wasn't very surprising at first. The realization hit you when he pulled you very close to him and started kissing you and slowly almost unnoticeably he started grinding on you. To your surprise, he didn't go any further, but that also really annoyed you because now you were the one who was desperate for a good fuck. When you got to the airport, you were greeted by his manager and some security, for now, no more people were needed since it was only a meeting to discuss outfit ideas. You entered the jet, and it was very spacious, there were about six seats but also a little secluded sleeping area. Soon everyone was seated and the flight to Paris started. At first, you, Hongjoong, and his manager made some small talk, mainly talking about Honjoongs outfit ideas and how it's a pity that this trip will only be a day maybe two. If you were being honest, this meeting could've easily been a video call. But Olivier insisted on you two coming to Paris to spend some time with him, also, so he could take the measurements, so they can start the sawing process as soon as possible. After a few minutes, the manager suggested you both go rest a bit, since this whole trip and jet lag will be very tiring for all of you.

You and Hongjoong went to the sleeping area, as soon as you went in Hongjoong closed the door to that area with a devilish smile on his face. “Joong what are you planning? I can see it in your eyes, so spill it already.” He just smiled as he slowly hovered over you on the bed. “Well baby, we've both been busy ever since I got invited, and we will be even busier in the next few months. So why don't we make the most of our time on these trips? You know, we can just enjoy each other's company every given chance.” He was very seducing, you got to admit, but the entire idea of fucking wherever and whenever with whoever outside to hear you kinda scared you. “Joongie you know I want you as much as you want me. But we are in the air with both your manager and security in the room next to us. Don't you think it's a bit risky to do something like this?” That's when his entire demeanor changed, his eyes got darker and his smirk got bigger. “Baby, I don't really care where we are or who can hear us. If I want to get a taste of that sweet little pussy of yours, I will do it, no matter the circumstance.” Those words send a chill down your spine, you could feel yourself getting wetter and that's when you decided to not care at all and just succumb to your boyfriend's idea. You grabbed his hair, yanking him down, pulling him in a passionate kiss. You could feel him smiling but also moving his hands all over your body, pulling your shirt up, slowly caressing your stomach up to your boobs when he violently ripped your bra in half. Pulling away from the kiss, you moaned, that action alone leaving your pussy throbbing and your mind hazy. He pulled your shirt up, revealing your hardened nipples, in that process he made sure to kiss each boob and give it the attention it deserves. Every move he made now was just a successful attempt to make you even wetter than you initially were. He slowly kissed down your stomach, pulling down your sweatpants and panties, which were soaked and almost see-through at this point. While kissing your thighs, he forced your legs apart, revealing the most gorgeous sight to him. First, he just kissed your pussy everywhere except where you needed him, teasing you in the most painful way he could. You started whining and bucking your hips up, trying to get him to stop and finally give you the pleasure you required. “Slow down, sweet girl, I am just starting my meal, I don't want to get too full so soon.” He grinned, and you felt like he was mocking your desperation, but soon you felt his tongue slowly licking from your entrance up to your clit and focusing on it. He made sure that you felt every move of his tongue. It felt like heaven, you didn't even realize how much you wanted this until this very moment. His mouth felt amazing on you, tongue slowly circling around your clit, while his hand slowly moved to your entrance. “Oh how I missed this sweet pussy,” he slowly pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers, “I missed your sweet taste and how you always manage to get wetter in a matter of seconds.” He slowly pushed his fingers inside you while kissing you, so you can taste yourself on his tongue. “Seems like you have gotten tighter since the last time we had some time for ourselves,” he commented while moving his fingers in and out of you, trying to find your sweet spot. Suddenly a very loud moan escaped your lips, and that's when he knew that he was doing just the right thing. He kept pressing on that spongy spot inside you, all while trying to muffle your moans into the kiss. Pulling away from the kiss, he went down to your pussy again, giving it all the attention it needed. That was all it took for you to see stars, the moment his tongue came in contact with your clit was the moment that pressure in your lower belly was released. You were still in a moment of bliss, too focused on the pleasure you felt to even notice that Honjoong came just from eating you out. “Oh my God, baby, look what you have done to me. Made me look like some horny teenager cumming in his pants.” he chuckled while slowly laying next to you. “I'm so sorry baby, I promise to make it up to you whenever you say.” you knew that keeping this promise would be harder than it looks like. You were his pillow princess, always the one that gets to feel the pleasure first, so knowing that there will be a day when the roles will be switched made you a bit anxious. “I would say don't make promises that you can't keep, but I would really like for you to keep this one.” he chuckled as he slowly snuggled beside you, already falling asleep.

Before you knew it, you were in Paris on your way to the hotel to freshen up a bit before you meet with Olivier. You felt uneasy being in the car with the manager and security, knowing what you two did on the plane. On the other hand, Hongjoong was unbothered, making small talk with his manager about the meeting and just overall being very casual. You didn't have much time when you entered the hotel room, so you quickly showered and changed your outfit, and off to the meeting you went. The meeting was very nice, Olivier was really excited to meet you, he mentioned that Hongjoong tends to talk about you a lot, which made your heart flutter. Most of the meeting consisted of Hongjoong talking about his idea for the looks, and Olivier mostly agreeing with everything. You were quite surprised when Hongjoong mentioned a dress with a very high slit for you. He is usually against showing you off, because he tends to be very possessive of you, just like he is possessive of everyone around him, even his own fans. But you weren't against that idea, nor was Olivier, he even commented how it would be a shame to not show off your beautiful figure. This comment made you blush really hard, Olivier works with models and a bunch of celebrities like the Kardashians, so this comment made you feel fantastic about yourself. After a three-hour meeting, which still could've been a video call, you all said your goodbyes. Sadly for all of you, there was no time to explore Paris, not this time. Hongjoong had a really packed schedule right now, preparing a new album and a tour takes a lot of time. So after the meeting, you went straight to the airport to go on your flight back to Korea.

In the next few months, everything got really hectic. Hongjoong would spend most of his days in the company working on everything that needs to be finished before the tour. Meanwhile, you focused on your work as much as possible. You two didn't really see each other. Sometimes you would wait for him at night and even then both of you were too tired to even speak, so you would just cuddle or maybe try to watch something, but most times you would fall asleep at the begging of whatever you were watching. You missed Hongjoong a lot, you would think that you are used to these periods of not seeing each other, but it's hard. Of course, you would text each other during the day, but nothing can change the physical aspect of your relationship. You missed cuddling him and kissing him, but most of all you missed your passionate nights together. Sometimes you tried to satisfy yourself, but that just didn't work, nothing could ever feel as good as your boyfriend. You tried distracting him while he was working by sending dirty texts and photos, but that wasn't successful. He would reply with the same energy, but that wouldn't last very long or give you enough encouragement to try to make yourself feel good. At one point you just gave up, hoping that at least when he goes on tour, and you go with him of course, you two would have some time for intimacy. And you weren't wrong at all, of course, most of the time he was busy with rehearsals and filming interviews, but most nights he would be full of adrenaline after the concert, and he would use that energy on you. That's how you found yourself in the position you were in right now, naked, covered in hickeys, while he kept thrusting in and out of you. Every thrust felt heavenly, he was hitting the spot every time while slowly kissing your neck and telling you how good you feel around him. “Oh love, you feel so good around my cock, always so good for me.” you just moaned at his words, not being able to form any thoughts let alone full sentences. Everything about this felt so good, you were on cloud nine, literally. “I'm…. I'm going to cummm” you silently screamed, not being able to produce any sound louder than a whisper. “Oh yes, princess, cum for me, show me how much you missed this.” his words sent you over the edge you came on his command like always. Not much later, he was also cumming inside you, your pussy squeezing him and milking him for everything he's worth. Afterward, you two just lay there enjoying each other's presence. “I'm sorry for not being able to spend more time with you, I hope nights like these can replace it.” he apologized even though he knew that you don't need him to. “Baby, you know that I'm not mad at you, and believe me if this is how you apologize maybe I should be mad more often.” you laughed as you hugged him throwing your leg around his waist and taking in his after-sex scent. “Oh, don't worry, I will find reasons to apologize like this even when you aren't mad.” he chuckled, hugging you back as he slowly calmed down his breathing and fell asleep slowly.

The rest of the tour went smoothly, with a lot of sightseeing and a lot of long nights with Hongjoong in your hotel room. The next stop was Paris and you knew what that meant, it was finally time to try on your dress and Hongjoongs suit for the gala. You were excited, to say the least, you have seen the sketches of the outfits and they were stunning. Yours was a black floor-length dress with a lot of diamonds and a diamond necklace to top it off. As for Hongjoong, his outfit was just a simple black suit, but there was a twist, he won't be wearing any dress shirt underneath just suit and that's it. Just imagining him in that made you excited and wet. But you needed to stay calm and collected, you really didn't need anyone at Balmain to know how horny you are for your boyfriend.

When you got to the fitting, you met Olivier and some of the seamstresses that made your outfits. Your outfits were on the hangers with your jewelry laid out in a velvet box, everything was like a dream, you were speechless just looking at the outfits. “Someone is mesmerized by the dress I see” commented Olivier looking at you. “How could I not be, the dress is magical. Thank you so much for making this dream come true.” you hugged Olivier as tight as you could. “It's my pleasure, truly. You just need to be careful, one of my dresses was responsible for Kim's daughter, I do not want to be responsible again.” he chuckled winking at you and Hongjoong. You just laughed, Hongjoong on the other side was very confused but smiled. “I will leave you two to try on the outfits, just call if you need help, and when you are done.” Olivier went into the other room with the seamstresses, leaving you two alone. “I see you are very happy with the dress. I'm glad we succeeded in making something you really like.” Hongjong said, while taking off his clothes to try on his suit. “Baby, the dress is so beautiful, I couldn't be happier about it. Thank you so much.” you thanked him while taking off your clothes. “What did Olivier mean when he said he doesn't want to be responsible again? You know, that comment about Kim's daughter.” Hongjoong asked as he fixed some parts of his suit. You knew that he didn't know much about celebrities like the Kardashians, so it seemed normal that he asked. But how do you explain this without it seeming like you are asking him to make you a baby. “Oh, about that, well Olivier made the dress that Kanye bought for Kim's birthday, and well let's just say that Kim got more than that dress as a present for that birthday,” you explained shyly. “Please help me with the zipper,” you asked him, and he practically ran to help you. “What do you mean, she got more than a dress?” I don't get it,” he asked again, zipping your dress up and helping you put on the necklace. “For fuck's sake Hongjoong, they made a baby that night and Kim said that it was because of that dress,” you said, a bit annoyed for having to explain such a thing. You looked up in the mirror in front of you to look at the dress, but the first thing you saw was your boyfriend smirking at you. “ Oh, so that's what he meant by that. I'm just confused why he said it like it's a bad thing,” Hongjoong explained rubbing your hips, looking at you“ I don't think that it would be a bad thing to claim my baby, show everyone that you are mine.” You gulped as Hongjoong's hands went around your lower belly, caressing it like you are already pregnant. “Well, maybe it's not a bad thing, maybe that was just a warning or a prediction,” you commented, already feeling your panties getting wet, but also feeling Hongjoong get hard behind you. “So you wouldn't mind if we played around without any protection. It's already making me hard just thinking about feeling all of you on my dick. I can't wait to fill you up after the gala.” he said, pushing you against his hard-on, making you whimper desperately. You couldn't contain yourself, the whole idea of him cumming inside of you made you extremely aroused. “You know we need to call everyone when we are done, but I can't go in front of them in this state, plus you owe me if I remember correctly.” Your mind immediately went to the flight when you joined the mile-high club. With that in mind, you just went down on your knees ready to give him the best blowjob of his life. “Oh, my obedient little slut knows what she promised. I will remember this, don't worry.” He unbuckled his pants, and you pulled down his boxers, wrapping your tiny hand around his much larger dick. He threw his head back the moment he felt your hand on the head of his dick. Putting his hand on your head, he slowly guided you closer to him. You opened your mouth, leaving tiny kisses on the head of his cock as you rubbed his base. “Princess, you know it's not your place to tease, give daddy what you owe him, and be a good slut for him.” You knew that you will regret it if you do not listen to him, so you immediately opened your mouth, wrapping it around him. Taking all of him inside was a crazy idea, but you made it your priority right now. He felt himself touching the back of your throat and your cheeks hollowing around him, which made him feral. Throwing his head back, he bucked his hips into your mouth. “Oh yes, baby, that's right. You're going to swallow it all, milk me for everything I'm worth.” And that's exactly what you did, you brought your hand to his balls, slowly massaging them to make him cum faster. Not long after that, he was cumming down your throat, making the most erotic noises. “Oh my God, baby, that was amazing, my love.” He praised you, giving you a hand to help you stand up. He wiped the corners of your mouth with his thumb, pushing it inside your mouth later, so you can suck off everything from it. “Brush your hair a bit, I'm going to call everyone in to finish the fitting.” He kissed you before going out of the room to call Olivier and the seamstresses in. The rest of the fitting went smoothly, there was no need to change anything, so you were done in half an hour. After that, you two had some free time, so Hongjoong decided to take you shopping for some gifts for his family and yours.

Finally, the day Hongjoong dreamed of, feels funny thinking this since usually people say this about their wedding but well. Hongjoong and you arrived in New York on the morning of the gala, probably the worst plan ever, but you don't have much of a say in these plans. You had breakfast at the hotel when you arrived, after that the preparations started. There was about thirty people in the hotel suite, you got your hair, make up and nails done all at the same time. The goal was to get you both ready on time, everyone worked like you were already late. Hongjoong was paranoid about being late, so he made a plan with the manager to do everything as fast as possible. Honestly, you were also kind of scared, not of being late, but of people's reaction to the two of you on this event. Him being there seemed natural, but what if people wanted someone from the band with him and not you. But there wasn't much time for what ifs, you needed to get dressed and go to take some pictures before leaving the hotel. As soon as the last flash went off, everyone was rushing to get the two of you in the van and to the gala. There was a lot of pressure and stress with everyone around you, but you calmed down the moment you felt Hongjoong squeeze your hand and smile at you. The ride wasn't too long, it almost felt like you teleported there. When the van stopped, make up and hair touched you up one last time and off you go to the carpet. There were a lot of celebrities already there before you, that gave you a bit of peace, knowing that all that rushing wasn't worthless. The moment you two stepped on those stairs camera flashes were everywhere, honestly you thought you are going to go blind because of them, but everything went smoothly. Hongjoong gave a couple interviews talking about how important and meaningful this is to him, which designer made your outfits and many more questions. Soon you were in the museum, you went through the exhibitions and sat down on the table that was assigned to you. When you sat down, you felt yourself relaxing, finally some peace without rushing anywhere. Hongjoong made some small talk with some people that were at your table before the performances and dinner started. To be honest, you didn't really know who were you sat with, but I guess that is the protocol for people who are invited for the first time. Everything was great when dinner started, until you felt Hongjoongs hand on your thigh, squeezing it and caressing it. You looked at him, but he didn't budge, he looked so calm eating like nothing is happening. He in fact didn't stop caressing your thigh, going higher and higher every time. You pushed his leg with yours, but he didn't even look at you. He just pushed himself closer to you and whispered in your ear. “Baby, stay calm please, nobody needs to know that I'm getting you ready for our after-party.” That sentence alone shocked you, you remembered Olivier's comment and how it inspired Hongjoong. You tried to stay calm as his hand went closer to your pussy. You were soaked by the time his hand was on your pussy. He massaged around your clit before he moved your panties to the side and slid his finger inside. The performances started at that moment which made you relived since everyone was watching them and not you. Hongjoong pumped his finger in and out of you very slowly, making sure to press on your g-spot every time he went in. You needed to cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from whimpering or, even worse, moaning at that very moment. He continued playing with you until performances were over, the moment they stopped he pulled his finger out, brushing it on his pants. “This is exactly how I need you wet, bothered and in need of some good fucking. The moment this is over, we are out, rushing to our hotel. Understood.” he whispered, and you just nodded slowly, trying to collect yourself so no one notices the change in your demeanor.

As soon as the dinner was over, Hongjoong rushed you to the van. Everyone was talking about the after-party, but you knew very well that's not where you two were rushing. When you entered the van, everyone was screaming and congratulating you, it seemed like the internet really liked you two on the carpet together. That was a small relive for your thoughts, but not for the ache between your legs. When you got to the hotel, the staff already packed their staff and were on the way to their rooms, which left you and Hongjoong alone in your suite. The moment Hongjoong closed the doors, your lips were on his, kissing him hungrily. He just chuckled, he got you just how he wanted, you were wet and needy. You made your way to the bedroom, where he helped you to get out of your dress, but he ordered you to keep your heels and necklace. He took off his suit in a matter of seconds, he pushed you on the bed, kissing your neck and down to your lower belly. “Are you ready to be marked as mine for everyone to see. I can't wait for you to be pregnant and full of my baby.” He rubbed your clit slowly before pushing two fingers inside you. The pleasure wasn't strong, you needed more, you craved his dick inside you. You squeezed your walls around his fingers, trying to give him a hint that you required more. “Someone is very needy. My baby mama is craving something bigger than my fingers, huh.” You could only moan at his words, already too far gone to say anything or form any thoughts. “Don't worry, I will make sure to get you full and pregnant by the end of this night.” He took off his boxers, pumping himself a bit. “Come up princess, spit on my cock and stroke it. I need this to be comfortable for my baby mama.” You propped yourself on one hand, spitting on his dick and stroking him to make it wet. As you did that, you looked him in the eyes, which turned him on even more. That dazed look in your eyes gave him confidence, he knew that only he can make you feel and look like this. He went down to kiss you and push you to lay down as he positioned his cock on your entrance. “Oh Hongjoong…. Feels so good, so full.” You moaned like never before, the stretch gave you just what you needed. “ Yeah you're feeling full baby.” He continued thrusting inside you, the tip of his dick brushing on your g-spot, making you see stars. Stroking your clit, he latched onto one of your nipples while his other hand massaged your other boob. “I can't wait to see your boobs full of milk for our baby.” He covered all of your sensitive spots, your stomach felt like it's going to burst. “Now mama, I need you to cum for me. Cum for daddy, so he can breed you nice and full.” Every word was punctuated by his thrust, every thrust made his tip slam into your g-spot, that was your limit. Your pussy started squeezing his dick, he rubbed your clit faster and that's when that pressure in your lover belly was released. You came all over him, he continued thrusting, feeling your pussy squeeze him trying to keep him inside. Throwing his head back, he came inside you, his tip touching your cervix. “Oh yes, mama, keep everything inside. Don't you dare a single drop to leave your pussy.” He slowly took himself out, pushing one finger inside you to keep everything inside. He laid beside you, stroking your hair with his other hand. “Thank you, daddy, for filling me up.” You smiled at him, as he kissed your forehead. He pulled his finger out and went to get a towel to clean you and your panties. “Daddy is now going to clean you up. I'm going to try to be gentle, I know you are sensitive.” You just nodded, as he slowly cleaned you and put some panties on you. “Thank you baby. I can't wait to see if we made a baby tonight.” He laid down, hugging you closely. “Me too. Hopefully for the next year we will need three invitations.”

#ateez #Ateez hongjoong #ateezedit #ateez icons #ateez smut #ateez fluff #kim hongjoong #honjoong smut #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez au

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pomegranateboba · 8 months ago

Text

ArTw boys if they followed us back to Mid Earthium

Based on this undone prompt provided by @sleepytwilight

Context: one of the gang somehow went to Mid Earthium with us (we dragged one of them there's no escape) now they are stuck with us til who knows when

Tw: Nothing too serious, Sirius being a red flag, its mostly crack I don't know how to write sad stuff

Arcturus

You found him in your kitchen on the ground, confused

"S-Summoner? What...where is this?"

"This is your house..??"

Poor baby was still confused even after you explained to him what happened.

Oh well, it just means he can know more about Mid Earthium culture (and the Summoner)

You both found out that your imprints with each other still work here (Arcturus was knitting at home and you summoned him to the florist to ask him which flowers looked better)

He found the crustiest animal shelter once and was absolutely horrified (You had to give therapy afterwards)

*in tears* "These poor things are sitting in their own waste-WHY IS THAT DOG BEING CRAMPED UP IN SUCH A SMALL CAGE"

You both came back home with your own personal petting zoo after that. (Let's assume our house is big enough)

He takes care of all the plants and animals in the house for you

Now your house is not only a petting zoo, but also a jungle. Yay.

He helps old ladies cross the street.

Literally the best housemate you could ever ask for.

He was amazed when you pointed out that he was an actual star in Mid Earthium.

The star Arcturus literally looks like him IT GLOWS ORANGE AJHSKHDKAKJGH

Very sweet.

*arcky appreciation*

Spica

You were in your nearby public library and saw Spica lecturing some kids about yelling in the library.

How Spica of him, you thought.

After bringing him home and explaining the situation to him, he was surprised to say the least.

At least now you would be by his side.

After 1 day your house now smells of coffee

Because he makes you coffee every morning (you drink it out of politeness and your love for Spica, despite the coffee being very bitter and like a 100 degrees Celsius)

Your house is also suddenly 10 times more organised

He has a considerable amount of free time now that he doesn't have to do work for the Guide Committee 25/7, so he can finally catch up on sleep.

And you can also bring him outside more

In which he gets major culture shock, because my dude used to like ballroom music and people articulating themselves in proper English (or whatever language I guess)

"Summoner, what does 'pogchamp' mean?"

Yeah. Time to teach this man about the internet.

I don't know about you, but I feel like Spica would fall for internet scams, because they don't have that stuff in Bound Arlyn (or maybe Spica just never used the internet.)

If you have any work to do, he will be watching very closely over your shoulder.

You try to teach this old man how to play online games and fail.

"...How do I know which team I'm on? How do I crouch?"

I think you should just let him read Mid Earthium books instead.

He is a very considerate housemate, doesn't really bother you unless you go bother him

He feels so weird not doing anything since he is overworked most of the time at Contell, please give him something to do.

Your imprints still worked, you summoned him from the living room to the bathroom because you were too short to fix a lightbulb (admit it you are short because so am I)

Alpheratz

You found him on a bench, being questioned by the police whether he was some homeless guy or not.

You manage to bring him home and explain to him what was going on (I mean as if we know what's going on)

I feel like he would either be really surprised, or just not care.

His logic: No Spica nagging = good

He spends most of the time asleep on your couch or somewhere in the house, or maybe the backyard if you have one.

He honestly would not care less, but his mood would be better overall because no Spica, and also no Schedar.

So you may be able to convince him to do stuff (maybe)

Your imprints work pretty much fine, you were trying to figure out how to wake him up from his century long coma on the couch, so you went to your room and summoned him there

It worked yeah, but he just went back to sleep, but on your bed.

Ah well.

He would be more than happy to accompany you around though, because Spica isn't there to show up out of the blue.

He can reach the high shelves for you.

If you are shorter than him (me), he will tease you for being short, because Pollux isn't around.

"Give me back my phone."

"But can you reach it?"

"..."

"That's right. You can't. :)"

You hit his face with a pillow

You may have to do your chores on your own though, you could try asking Alpheratz and there is a 50/50 chance he would help you

He helps you get more sleep as well, it is stressful being the Summoner in Bound Arlyn after all.

Pollux:

You found him in a park. On a swing set. He was taped to it.

Somehow, you were not surprised.

Little boy was overjoyed to see you.

You tried to explain what was happening to the best of your ability

He was a little confused, but that was all forgotten when you offered to go out to explore with him.

You took him to 7eleven, where he got a shit ton of snacks, because who's gonna stop him, not you.

He was so excited to stay with you without anyone else.

He also ensured that you had to clean up some stuff because the bad luck be bad lucking.

Anyways, you made the mistake of introducing him to social media

Its too late now he has actual followers now

Ah well.

Get ready to do tens of hundreds of tiktok challenges

It just feels like a very Pollux thing to do

He runs around everywhere, he wants to see everything in Mid Earthium and then compare it to the boundary

"Wow, everything's so...bleak. I mean not you of course, you're really pretty-I MEAN YOU DIDN'T HEAR ANYTHING-"

Someone calm this tsundere down please he's feral

Would attempt to help out in the house, ends up giving up half way through

Your imprints work, you could not find Pollux anywhere in the house so you summoned him. Apparently he was hiding in the closet eating half the candy in the house

Loves dragging you around the place (he's adorable ahgjhgsajhg)

Vega

You both went back to Mid Earthium at the same time, together, so you both appeared back in your room

You were very enthusiastic about showing Vega around, BECUASE HE'S TECHNICALLY BACK HOME

Let's say you 2 lived in the same neighbourhood and you still live there now.

Bring on the nostalgia.

You showed him around all the places you used to go (according to Vega, since your memories of your time with Vega as a kid were non-existent)

Some changed, some didn't. Vega was really emotional after that (wait I didn't mean to put in all the feels no I'm not crying you are)

Vega would be either really teary or really happy, or both because he can finally spend some quality time with his beloved best friend <3

You both are inseparable the whole time, and if you have to leave the room, he can and will wait at the door until you are back

and don't take too long or else he will be sad (or he will break the door down and find you himself.)

All the time you both had was extremely wholesome without even trying and Vega was simply overjoyed just to be able to be with you.

Sometimes (read: every time) he would come into your room to cuddle with you because he has been overwhelmed with all The Feels ™

I literally love Vega he's adorable

Your imprint works, not because you needed to summon him (he was always by your side anyways), but because you know there's always this bond between the sorcerers? (amplifier stone type stuff or something)

You guys did build a blanket/pillow fort in your living room and cuddled :)

He is the most normal housemate because he knows how things work, except you would not leave your side for more than 10 minutes.

"Please stay by my side, Summoner."

Very sweet 100% chance of survival.

Sirius

You did not need to find him. He found you.

He somehow found where you lived and climbed through the window when you woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water (He refused to reveal where he spawned in to)

May Ursa Minor, Polaris and heck even Lilith from obey me why not, give us all strength to survive this

This man can and will tease you about the 2 of you living together in the same house

He has definitely suggested that the 2 of you could share the bed, but stopped before you could throw him out.

He has, despite the locked windows and door, came into your room at 3am in the morning in the form of a dog, just to bother you. You know, just because.

Polaris please come pick your kid up. I don't care whether you're dead, in the void, or is an ice monster.

Barks at people as a dog for no reason.

Got used to living in Mid Earthium very quickly.

Has most definitely pretended to be your boyfriend, up to the point where even you are confused. (gaslight gaslight and gaslight even more)

Will find a way to cause chaos.

Still pretty protective of you though, we don't talk about what he said in chapter 13

Will take you out pretty frequently (interpret it however you want)

You can never find him, so you do summon him to your side when he isn't already (he knows where you are he's just being a stalker dw)

Is very happy that he can have you all to himself, without other people questioning his questionable behaviour.

Will either help out in the house, or knock down glasses like a cat and stare at you dead in the eye.

"...Sirius please. It's 2 in the morning."

*Happy barking noises.*

"What do you want?"

"Can I be the little spoon?"

"Get out."

He somehow makes it seem like he lives in Mid Earthium, and not some wanted criminal from Bound Arlyn.

He's a menace, a hot menace, but a menace nonetheless.

#yeah i have not finished the assessment book i have been tasked to finish #in fact i have only done 15 pages #but arcana twilight takes priority #arcana twilight #arcana twilight arcturus #arcana twilight spica #arcana twilight alpheratz #arcana twilight pollux #arcana twilight vega #arcana twilight sirius #arcana twilight summoner #arcana twilight headcanons

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ppomumgranatum · 4 months ago

Text

meet me in the infinity.

also available on Ao3

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

tags: one shot, you POV, modern AU

word count: 4k

Summary: the chances of us meeting are almost zero, but sometimes, it’s not about the odds but the moments that defy them.

Notes: idk if you guys are into au but I am back from a long vacation and hope you can enjoy this short lil treat 🤠

Saturdays were your favourite. It's a sweet reprieve from the weekday hustle and bustle and is your time to kick back, unwind, and indulge in a bit of freedom without the looming spectre of work. But this Saturday in particular wasn’t quite the respite you had hoped for. Lately work has been more demanding of your time and it honestly was getting exhausting. Even the usual picturesque English town, where the buildings are quaint and the atmosphere is steeped with history, no longer soothes you.

Earlier this morning, you received an email with the subject “Friendly Reminder” from your editor, Cressida, regarding an upcoming deadline for an article that you’re currently working on a recent relic discovery. Knowing her bluntness, you were sure the content would be anything but— which only adds up to the already piled up pressure.

You could’ve made better progress if the archeologist you were supposed to interview didn’t reschedule. Again. For the second time. The first cancellation had been a minor inconvenience. You’d managed to adjust, shuffling your deadlines and taking it in stride. However, when the second request for rescheduling came in, it felt like a relentless barrier to your progress.

His insight is crucial. Without him you might as well write nothing. But your precious time was not going to be wasted on grousing over some nerd boomer.

You’re still determined to salvage the day, so you decided to head to the local café. Upon entering, you were greeted by the warm, inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversations. After ordering your usual, you chose a long communal table and sat on the corner.

As you settled in, you opened the draft of your article on your laptop, while a notebook lay ready for you to scribble any spontaneous notes or inspirations. The cursor blinked at you, almost mockingly, but you were in the zone, deeply immersed in crafting your drafts and preparing insightful questions, that the world outside was nothing but a mere meaningless blank canvas.

Your head was running like a bullet train until a voice broke through your concentration.

"Excuse me, do you mind if I share this table?"

Looking up, you were met with a warm smile from a handsome stranger.

Handsome was an understatement, this man was gorgeous. He had those brown eyes that were so mesmerising they felt like earth after a summer rain. The kind that you wouldn't mind getting lost in.

And his smile— God, his smile— felt like a sudden burst of sunlight through a stormy sky, stealing the air from your lungs and leaving you momentarily breathless.

You knew that exactly because you realised that you had been staring at him for one second too long and your chest was desperate for air.

You quickly gathered your scattered thoughts and motioned toward the empty seat opposite you. "Not at all, please, go ahead," you replied, trying to hide your surprise at the interruption.

The stranger settled into the chair across from you, sipping his coffee casually. He had a book in hand. You tried your best to focus on your own task, but you couldn't help glancing up every once in a while.

There was something strangely familiar about him. It was like stumbling upon a character from a half-remembered dream, someone you couldn't fully place but felt a curious connection to.

Every single of your brain cells were trying so hard to gather your scattering focus to get back to work. You tried to scribble some words on your notebook but your thoughts were getting blurry and the only thing crystal clear was the image of the man sitting in front of you.

“You work for BBC?” He suddenly asked and he could tell that you looked confused so he had to clarify with a small gorgeous smile tugged on his lips, “Your pen. I assume you work there or have stolen it.”

“Oh.” You blinked and gave away a small smile, “Both, actually. I lost mine and took it from an annoying colleague.”

“Ah.. justified.” He replied playfully.

There had to be something wrong with your brain because you couldn’t think of a single comeback. Forget wit, you could’ve said anything casual like a normal person would but nothing came out. Being critical and creative were the reason your mouth was fed and yet you’re speechless in his presence.

Some hand of desperation was tugging inside you to have this conversation going and like a weird interrelation you sensed that he must’ve felt the same way because then he continued, “Are you on telly, then?” There was a genuine spark of interest in his question.

“No, I’m a feature writer.” You politely corrected him, “I write for History.”

“My apologies.” There was a momentary pause before he continued, "You know, I read this incredible story on there a couple of months ago about some marine archaeologists discovering an alleged Viking shipwreck off the coast of Ireland. It was so vivid and immersive—I think the writer really nailed it."

"Yeah, I remember that one," you confessed, feeling a touch of bashfulness colour your cheeks, "I actually wrote that piece.”

“No way.” He sounded pleasantly surprised but not in a dramatic kind of way. Like he expected you to be great— like he somehow already knew you, “Though, at first I suspected that it was a Mediaeval ship rather than Viking when I saw a picture of the rudder. Such maritime technology was known later in the time period, not Viking.”

You smiled in disbelief for his astute observation, “It is Mediaeval. They posted their final report recently.”

“Well, it's always nice to know that you are right.” He grinned.

“What are you? A history enthusiast?””

“Something like that.”

“Oh really?” You sounded slightly surprised by guessing correctly, ”What’s caught your eyes recently?”

He shrugged, “There’s this relic found in a catacombs in Scotland.”

Your heart beat a single loud thud it echoed to your brain. You tried to mask the shock with a nod and contemplated slightly on the coincidence. But something must be written all over your face because he asked, “Something wrong?”

“Oh, nothing– it’s just a really funny coincidence.”

“What is?”

“I actually have an interview with someone at the museum about said relics on Monday.” You confessed reluctantly.

There was a pause.

“Monday, 11 AM?”

You were a bit thrown off by his knowledge of your schedule, but you didn't want to make assumptions. “..yes. How do you know?”

“Because I, too, have an interview on Monday at 11 AM with a reporter from BBC about said relics.” A playful smile tugged on the corner of his lips, “I mean— feature writer.”

Your eyes widened when the realisation dawned on you. The man sitting in front of you—relaxed, casual, and sipping his coffee—was not just some history enthusiast, he’s a history expert and more specifically the very person you had been cursing in your head for the past couple of weeks.

The coincidence was almost too perfect.

“You’re Dr. Sebastian Sallow?”

“Nice to meet you.” He charmingly said, before taking a sip of his coffee.

Your mouth gaped open slightly trying to find the right words to say to him but you were too bewildered by the figure in front of you.

“I-i’m sorry I just didn’t expect you to look so..” —Handsome? Charming? Astoundingly stunning? Drop-dead gorgeous? Hunky?— “..young.”

Thank God something appropriate actually came out of your mouth.

He chuckled and set down his coffee, “I get that a lot. I suppose the hazard of this job is people expecting all of us to look like we’re withering away.”

“I guess I did picture someone more slumpy with white hair.” You felt the initial shock begin to melt away as you tittered at his attempt to lighten up the mood, “This is quite a pleasant surprise, Dr. Sallow.”

“Oh please, just Sebastian would suffice.” He waved you off, “It bothers me when people call me Doctor outside of the museum. That title means something else entirely to most of the people here and I don’t want anyone suffering a heart attack expecting me to help them and all I have with me is my humidity control equipment.”

“Fair enough. Just Sebastian.” You joked.

And he laughed at the lamest jest a woman could ever throw.

This man is handsome, has a great sense of humour, and humble. You’ve only met him for a few minutes and he’s already ticking a lot of boxes.

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, still grinning. "But if I’m just Sebastian, you can’t be just a feature writer either. We’re both at a disadvantage then."

His eyes locked with yours with that playful glimmer in them. And again, you found yourself at a loss for what to say. You were used to being in control of a conversation, but Sebastian’s easy charm had thrown you off-kilter.

"You’re not going to withhold your name because of some rule of journalistic ethics, are you?"

Sebastian's grin grew wider as he watched you struggle to come up with a response. You were flustered, and he seemed to be relishing the situation a little too much.

Truly, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about him that you just couldn't put your finger on. Something pleasant, definitely. The way he spoke, the way your banters flow so naturally, and even the way he smiled—all of it had an air of comfortable familiarity that put you at ease.

"Well?" He prompted, still waiting for your answer.

You blinked, realising you had been silent for too long. You could feel a blush spreading on your cheeks. You introduced yourself, your name rolling off his tongue in a way that sounded almost musical. And there it was, that odd sense of familiarity you had felt earlier, a touch of déjà vu that had caught you off guard. The sound of your name on Sebastian's lips, the way he repeated it, testing the syllables.. it sounds just.

But strangely, you didn't mind. In fact, you almost revelled in it. Sebastian's gaze met yours, holding it just a moment too long. That flicker of recognition in his eyes mirrored your own. You felt that strange comfort again, as if he understood whatever you’re feeling, too.

“I do apologise for the delays. I had to attend to some urgent matter.”

“Oh, please, it’s alright.” Lie. That was an absolute lie.

“Since the museum is literally across the street, do you want to have a look? I could show you around and perhaps give you a headstart for the interview.” He suggested, “I could at least try to make up for the delay. If I’m not interrupting anything, of course.”

The offer to view the relics early was certainly tempting, especially knowing the pressure you were under to meet the deadline. But if you could be honest, getting to spend more time with Sebastian was what sold you.. His easy-going nature was refreshing, and the banter was already so much better than any interview you’ve had.

“I suppose a little preview can’t hurt.” You agreed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Lead the way, Dr— er, Sebastian.”

The museum stood majestically across the street, an elegant building that exuded an aura of history and mystery. Instead of leading you to the usual main entrance, Sebastian guided you through a small side entrance, known only to museum staff and researchers.

He held the door open for you, a gentlemanly gesture that warmed your heart just a little more. The hallway was quiet, with the stillness broken only by the soft sound of your footsteps on the tiled floor. Sebastian led you towards a door at the end of the corridor.

As he pushed open the door, it revealed a wide room that looked more like a combination of a lab and an office space. There were shelves lined with various tools, equipment, and all sorts of items that you assume were historical artefacts, were placed all over.

As you glanced at the relics spread out on the lab equipment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. There was something intimate and profound about having access to history in such a raw and unadulterated state. You were used to writing articles about historical events and interviewing people in the field, but this was different.

This was a peek behind the curtain, an up-close-and-personal experience unlike anything you had ever had before. It reminded you of the time your parents took you to a sweet shop.

Sebastian noticed your wide-eyed wonder and smiled, "It's something, isn't it? This is where the real magic happens. Each artefact here has a story waiting to be uncovered."

You nodded, still taking in the scene. "It's incredible.”

He led you further and you followed behind him, "This is where we carefully study, preserve, and sometimes even restore pieces of history. It's a meticulous process, but incredibly rewarding."

He pointed to a workbench where a delicate, ornate vase was being examined. "For example, this vase was found in a burial site in Wales. It's over a thousand years old, and we're trying to learn more about the culture that created it."

“The detail is astonishing.” You marvelled at its intricate patterns and delicate craftsmanship, a testament to the skill of its maker.

Sebastian was clearly amused by your reaction as the smile painted on his face was as wide as yours.

He then guided you to another section of the lab, where a different artefact lay under soft lighting, carefully displayed on a padded surface. It was a small, ornately decorated bronze mirror, its reflective surface dulled with age but still faintly gleaming.

"This," Sebastian said, "is another fascinating piece. It's a Celtic mirror, also found around the area where we found the vase and it dates back to around the same period. Mirrors like this one were not just utilitarian objects but it also held significant cultural and spiritual value."

Your eyes trailed along the other tables. The beauty of these items were clearly overwhelming and to be surrounded by such rich history was an amazing feeling.

Amongst the collections, your eyes faltered into an object that appeared to be some sort of cane. The wood of the shaft looked like a well polished ebony with a brass handle and it looked relatively new compared to some of the others that were certainly ancient.

Curiosity piqued, you turned to Sebastian and asked, "What about this one? It’s so beautiful. How does it look so well-preserved, though? How old is it?"

Sebastian’s eyes were a little bit flustered. He carefully lifted it from its display stand. "Ah, this one is actually younger than us."

You blinked in surprise. "Huh? What do you mean?"

He smiled, holding the cane carefully. "I just got it from a shop down at the market. It’s for my roommate. He’s blind."

“Oh.” Well, that’s not embarrassing at all.

A few pieces later, you eventually circled back to the purpose of your visit: the relic you were meant to be writing about.

It was an ancient, intricately carved triangular piece, rumoured to have ties to a long-lost civilisation. The designs were rather suspicious and eerie which Sebastian later explained that some people believed it was used for some sort of dark magic ritual.

At that point you don’t know what was more beautiful, the way he captivated you with his eloquence or the way his eyes sparkled with so much passion in what he’s doing.

It wasn’t just his knowledge that drew you in— it was the way he made you feel connected to the past, to something greater than yourself. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself wanting to know more—not just about the relic, but about him.

His smile, when he caught your gaze, was warm and genuine. It made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected. It’s so magical you were practically spellbound. You realised that you were no longer interested in the story you were here to write but you were way more enthralled by the man who was telling it.

When the formalities of your interview were completed, Sebastian suggested showing you a special place within the museum. Intrigued, you agreed. He led you through a series of winding corridors, past exhibits and storage rooms, until you arrived at a small, unmarked door. He unlocked it with a key he retrieved from his pocket, and you both stepped inside.

The room was a hidden gem, unlike any other part of the museum. It was a spacious atrium with a glass ceiling, allowing the evening light to filter through and bathe the room in a soft, golden glow. It’s an indoor garden that gives off a serene, almost magical atmosphere. In the centre of the room was a small fountain, the gentle sound of trickling water adding to the tranquillity

He led you to an alcove that overlooked a small pond. You leaned against the railing while Sebastian shared anecdotes about his childhood, his inspirations, and the journey that led him to become a historian. He mentioned that his twin sister, who had recently overcome cancer, was under his sole care, which was his reason for rescheduling your meeting a couple of times.

The more he opened up to you, the more familiar he felt. Despite hearing his stories for the first time, none of it felt foreign. Each laugh, each sigh, and each heartfelt revelation came with a comforting rhythm between the two of you. It made the evening feel like an unfolding chapter of a story you were always meant to be a part of in a strange yet pleasant way possible.

It was in this context that you found yourself unable to shake the feeling that there was something more to your connection.

“I’ve been meaning to ask this,” you said, a hint of hesitation in your voice, “have we met before?”

Sebastian smiled and shook his head, “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know, I just— I don’t know how to explain it but this entire day has been feeling like a—” Your head was searching for the right word but Sebastian managed to find it for you.

“Like a déjà vu?”

“Exactly.” You said softly, “Like a déjà vu.”

Sebastian hummed in agreement, his eyes studying your face intently. It was as if he too, was trying to decipher the strange familiarity that seemed to linger between the two of you.

“So you’re feeling the same way?”

“Yeah.”

There was an extended silence, allowing the both of you to get lost in your thoughts.

"I’ve been trying to figure out why this day feels so surreal. Meeting you, the sound of your name, even the way everything is unfolding—it’s like it’s part of a story I already know." He confessed, “Like this was some forgotten history written some time ago and when I look at you.. something in me recognises you. It’s like we’re supposed to know each other somehow.”

He managed to articulate exactly what you were feeling. Then he moved closer to you, “Do you believe in destiny, by any chance?"

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as Sebastian posed the question. You've never been one to believe in destiny—or fate for that matter. But something about this situation, this moment, seemed to defy all rules and logic.

“Not usually, no. I’m more of a taking-my-own-chances kind of woman.” You replied truthfully, ”Do you?”

“I’m not sure,” He admitted while his eyes never left yours. “But I do believe in probabilities. Do you know why?”

You swallowed hard, your heart now hammering against your ribcage with increasing speed.

“No,” You whispered, your voice suddenly sounding very small, “Why?”

“Probabilities are often tied to the idea of potentiality and the nature of existence. It’s about the likelihood of certain outcomes based on a series of events and choices that can lead us to moments that feel almost destined.” He began, “Some theories believe that these events might interact and create an infinite number of new realities.”

As he spoke, his fingers lightly touched your resting arm.

“Essentially, you could be the archeologist and I am the writer. Or you could be a hero and I could be a wizard.” He took another step closer, “In this vast expanse of parallel realities, there is a probability that our choices might have led us to cross paths. And perhaps in some of those realities, we already have.”

No matter how many possibilities there were, you knew there was only one outcome you truly wished for.

“What’s the probability of us meeting today in this version of reality, then?”

“If we consider the vastness of all possible outcomes and the nearly infinite number of parallel realities, the chance of us meeting today in this particular one— I’d say almost impossible.” His fingers continued to lightly trace your arm, “And yet here we are, having this conversation. I guess despite that infinitesimal probability, something extraordinary has happened.”

You hummed, “I guess no amount of parallel universes or alternative realities can account for the fact that sometimes–some people–are meant to be.”

“I thought you’re more of a taking your own chances kind of woman.”

You leaned in closer until you could feel his breath on your skin. He was now so close, you could count the eyelashes framing his brown eyes and the freckles that decorate his skin, “Well, I’m taking my chances now.”

Finally, you closed the final gap and met him in a kiss that felt like a culmination of those infinite possibilities. Sebastian's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. You were acutely aware of every sensation: the taste of his lips, the firmness of his hold against you, the heat of his body against yours.

You didn’t know what you had expected of his kiss. Merely hours ago, you never knew Sebastian existed and yet his touch on your lips felt as familiar as a cherished memory. There was a warmth and a tenderness in his kiss that spoke of a connection far deeper than the short time you had known each other.

It was not like any other kiss you’ve ever experienced. Not a single word in the dictionary can come close in describing the overwhelming splash you feel throughout your entire body. This man— this stranger—was kissing you back, and you were certain that everything felt perfectly right.

When you finally pulled back, you both were breathless, faces inches apart, foreheads touching and his eyes were still locked onto yours.

“Kissing a woman I just met in the coffee shop today was definitely not on my list.” He admitted

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature. “Me, too. But I’m glad it happened.”

You both stood there for a moment longer, savouring the intimacy of the shared space and the connection that had formed between you. As you continued sharing the moment, Sebastian still had his arms wrapped around you until eventually, you both knew it was time to leave. But he didn’t want to let go and neither did you.

“You know,” He began, “Since we’ve practically had the interview. What if we go out for brunch, let’s say, Monday 11 AM?”

“Yeah? And what’s next?”

“Hmm, we could have a walk? Have dinner some time after? Or perhaps we could make out in some other places?”

Your laughter came out light and carefree. Sebastian had to mentally take a note of his new favourite music, “All of the above, please. I don’t want any of it to end.”

“Neither do I,” His eyes softened as he looked at you, “Or we could keep taking chances and see where it takes us?”

“Sounds perfect.” You leaned in once again to give a final kiss on his lips.

#sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow au

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teyums · 2 years ago

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idk if you were planning on doing a pt2 to your ao'nung head canon but PLEAASEEE consider it your writing is so good I need more 😭

could it also be spicy 😋 thank youuuu

Your wish is my command 🧞‍♀️ I am not seeing the pearly gates after this.

wc: 1.1k

🔞Ao’nung and reader are aged up in this fic🔞

Okay guys here’s part 2! I originally wasn’t going to make a part 2 but I got a lot of requests so here it is 💞 the control aspect did change here (only bc it gets 🌶️ and it was easier for me to write it like this w out getting toooo descriptive + repetitive loll) but honestly with the way Ao’nung worships you as his mate + how obsessed he is with touching you, he’s definitely making you his pillow princess. 🤭

“Everyone knows. Everyone knows. He f*cks you.” (Part Two)

Ao’nung x fem na’vi reader

part one

You and Ao’nung didn’t make it back to your shared Mauri in time, what a surprise. You briefly managed to avoid his attempts at grabbing hold of your body, squealing excitedly like you were playing a game of tag while he chased after you. But alas, your success was short lived. His hand caught your forearm and tugged it towards him, whipping you back to face him and causing your body to stumble into his expectant grasp. “Ao’nung…” you gave him a warning look and ran your hands along his biceps, biting your lip to stop him from hearing the next sound that was about to leave your mouth after his hands fell below your waist with their own agenda.

He roughly spun you around and you covered your mouth to silence your gasp. He wrapped his arms firmly around your waist to hold you in place, pushing his bulge against your backside with a quiet hum in your ear. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale to bask in the scent of your strong pheromones and exhaling shakily as the sweet aroma radiating off your body filled his nostrils. Ever since the two of you bonded your queues, something as simple as your scent could drive him absolutely mad. Your hand came up behind you to hold the back of his head closer to your neck and you cocked yours to the side to grant him more access- your stomach clenching when his fingers threatened to dip past the waistline of your loincloth.

“Not here,” You spat out between disoriented breaths, breaking away from him much to his dissapointment and taking hold of his hand again.

The two of you desperately stumbled behind a partially secluded tree with tall vegetation around it, not having any time to contemplate if It was private enough as his hands found your waist and yanked your body flush against his once more. He needed you close to him but having you pressed against his body just wasn’t enough. He needed you closer.

Ao’nung’s kisses were just as unforgiving as the relentless teasing you endured upon arriving to his clan’s island. He chased your lips like a reflex every time you broke for air and with complete disregard of your labored breathing, leaving you with less than a second to attempt to catch your breath. He kissed you like he hadn’t had a meal in days, the taste of your tongue being his first choice to break his fast.

You felt your lips part from his, a small string of saliva connecting you both and making it obvious what the two of you had been doing just moments earlier. He lowered himself slightly and you used this moment to your advantage, gasping for air. He hooked his large hands behind your knees and hoisted you up as if you weighed nothing at all, taking it upon himself to wrap your legs around his waist. Everything was moving so fast you didn’t even have time to process which part of you was actively being touched. He nudged your head to the side, indulging in his assault on your neck and using his fangs to nip it at lightly.

“Ao’nung, slow down…” Your eyes fluttered to a close and you spoke breathlessly, your mind falling blank while your back rested against the tree he had you pressed against. You felt completely delirious.

“I’m sorry, my love” he cooed gently, placing yet another kiss to your lips- this one slow and sweet. “You made me wait too long.” He grunted, switching to show the other side of your neck the same amount of love.

You melted against his body and snaked an arm around his neck, sliding your hand down his back and feeling his muscles flex as he held you. You huffed in annoyance, your free hand impatiently searching for the strand of seaweed that tied his hair up and snapping it without a second thought. You raked your hands through his hair as it cascaded down his shoulders and yanked at it- making his head fall back and a groan slip past his lips. You acted quickly, placing gentle kisses and love bites on his skin. He let you have your fun, briefly. He held you with one arm now- reaching up to grab hold of your chin he lifted it back up and turned your head to the side. Intimate time with you was probably the only time Ao’nung didn’t care about his own benefit, his sole intent was to pleasure you and that was more than enough for him. Your panting increased when you felt his warm tongue shamelessly drag up your neck and end with a kiss on your jawbone, his hot breath aiding in raising your body temperature.

“I thought your breathing would have improved by now.” He smirked, referring to the many lessons you had participated in with Tsireya during your time here. But how could you breathe when he was pleasing every part of your body in all the right ways? You thanked the great mother for tsaheylu; as soon as the two of you bonded he knew every spot that left you weak in the knees and exactly how to touch it.

“This is-“ a loud moan interrupted your sentence when his head dipped down to show appreciation to your breasts, your hand cradling the back of his head and tightly gripping his hair. “-not the same.” You finally continued, using your hands to bring his face back up so you could see him.

He pressed his forehead against yours, the both of you breathing heavily while he gazed into your eyes with pure hunger and lust. You still could not believe how fast things had changed between the two of you, how quickly he had become obsessed with you. He was the last person you thought you would be in such a compromising position with. The both of you despised the other less than a year ago, and somehow that made your burning desire for one another even stronger.

You brushed the stray strands of hair from his face, not wanting to miss a single inch of his beauty. You seductively slid a small three fingered hand down the middle of his chest, feeling his heart thumping rapidly against your palm. His eyes trailed your every movement, looking back up at yours with a sly grin when you gasped at the feeling of his manhood brushing against your aching center. “Someone will see us, Ao’nung. We must stop.”

It seemed as if your warning did the exact opposite of its intention, his tongue excitedly flicking out to lick at his bottom lip, and then yours in return. You whimpered at his lewd behavior, instantly forgetting the words you had just spoken as you leaned forward.

He groaned loudly with zero regard for potential nearby ears once he felt your teeth teasingly tug at his bottom lip, his hands accepting your actions as the green light to continue. Caressing your thighs and smoothing over your curves, a sinister smirk produced on his lips as he hooked a singular finger under the delicate string of your loincloth. “Even better.”

a/n: I’m def not the best smut writer but hey I tried LOLL

It’s short sorryyy but I hope those who requested enjoyed 💗

#avatar 2 #ao’nung #neteyam #ao’nung x reader #avatar way of water #jake sully #neteyam sully #ao’nung x you #neteyam x reader #jake sully x reader #ao’nung x y/n #atwow

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surfinminho · 1 year ago

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Out of the blue

Skz!ot8 (chan centric) x fem! reader

Warnings: a/b/o, provocation, head pushing (I think I'm forgetting some stuff)

Word count: 1.2k

Authors note: I plan on basically writing 1 on 1 or maybe a threesome instead of all 8 bc I'm not so confident in writing that yet, so I'll probably do minho next!!!

Taglist @coastalmaine

Requested by : @ihrtlix

You shouldve listened to them, you know what they would tell you. Variations of "you need to be more careful" or "I told so" but are you to blame? Maybe.

It started when you woke up, some of you guys had a day off and luckily you were apart of it. You woke up way earlier than you wanted to, perks of waking up at 4 am every morning. Curse JYP you thought. You knew someone had to be awake at this time, and it was chan. He barely sleeps and he had to head to the company early today.

You walk out of your room and into his. It's still dark outside, apart from the moon shining brightly through the window.

"Channie?" you whispered, if he actually managed to sleep you didn't want to disturb him.

And you were right, he was asleep. His laptop was on his lap with his headphones slipping from his head to his neck.

You already came so far why not lie down with him for a little bit?

Crawling into his bed, you wrap your arms around his waist, cuddling with him until he wakes up.

As time passed you got a little restless. You changed your position, throwing a leg over his lap.

You felt two hands grip your waist, sneaking under your shirt.

"Well, good morning baby" his voice sounded, different. It affected you more than you wanted it to.

You leaned in to kiss him, putting your hands flat against his chest. Though, he pulled away abruptly.

"Channie." You frowned, clenching your hands on his chest.

"I know what you want, and it's not gonna happen. We both know what's gonna happen. Right?" you knew what he was implying, but you didn't care you wanted him.

"But-"

He pressed a finger against your mouth with a smile before lifting you off telling you he's going to freshen up.

As he left the room, you checked his phone.

5:20 am.

He had to leave in a couple minutes. Along with changbin and jisung. You didn't know if you should be upset or thankful honestly. For his caring personality or upset that he's too caring.

As time passed, he came back into the room to let you know he was leaving. You took this as your chance to bother the other boys.

You opted to going into the bathroom before hand, you opened it without knocking, something you do many times.

To your surprise, you saw minho simply brushing his teeth. Kinda sad you didn't get to see him in the shower.

"__, you really need to learn how to knock."

"Isnt anything I haven't seen before, I also need to brush my teeth. Are you done?" You question, leaning over to grab your toothbrush.

"Y-yea, you can just go ahead? I mean I'm still doing my hair and whatnot" he sounded breathless, avoiding your gaze.

You shrug it off, going in-between him and the counter.

You stare into the mirror, locking eyes with minho.

It wasn't hard for you to toy with minho, easily getting flustered buy anyones antics. It was almost cute, allowing you to mess with him in bed.

You rinse out your mouth, wiping your hands off on a towel.

You turned on your heels and left him in thee bathroom. You barely did anything to him and he popped a boner.

The next person you saw was changbin, eating something around the table.

You smile to yourself when you see hyunjin there as well.

"Good morning" you walked in, slowing your pace.

You start up a conversation, like usual. You sat on changbins lap causing him to groan. Complaining how there are empty seats everywhere else.

You continued the conversation like normal except you had your foot rubbing against hyunjins crotch, going at a tantalizing pace.

Your antics were cut short when chan called them, telling the car was here. Some of them were still here, either on the couch or in their rooms.

Later in the day han, felix, seungmin, and jeongin were all sitting on the couch watching some movie.

You were snuggled up into jeongin, falling in and out of sleep.

In all honesty, you were bored. The rest of the boys realized your actions and shut it down immediately.

You were a little upset, just wanting to play a little.

You must've fell asleep, you were woken up to jeongin carrying you to his bed, away from chatter and miscellaneous noises.

"You know we know what you're doing right?" He taunts, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

You whined at him, pinching his hands.

"You know baby, we are just looking out for you."

"But-" you try to reason with him but daily serverly.

He laughs, giving you a pat on the head telling you to go to sleep.

That must've been hours ago, it's pitch black outside. You turn over to see jeongin sleeping peacefully. Chest slowly rising.

All of a sudden you started to feel hot. It couldn't be the air, it was almost December.

You didn't want to wake jeongin, so you slowly left the room.

You saw the boys who left earlier in the day sitting on the couch.

Your attempt at being quiet failed, as chan turned his head towards the scent.

You knew all eight boys were talking amongst themselves about your little games and how they tried to warn you about your heat coming early.

Chan got up making his way over to you.

"Channie.. it hurts" you felt something gush down your legs making you wince.

"You should've listened to Daddy hm?" He takes his hands, rubbing the palms of your hands.

"Hey, how about you go upstairs into my room and wait? I'll treat you good, promise"

You obliged, walking up the stairs.

Chan let the rest of the boys know what was going on.

He kept his end of the deal, following her into his room.

Opening the door he saw you riding his pillow, tears coming out of your eyes.

"Just couldn't help yourself hm?" He shut the door behind him, making it onto the bed.

'D-daddy! It hurts"

"Does it now?" He flips you on your back, pulling down his pants quickly.

"Baby wants my cock? She could've asked nicely for it instead of being a whore couldn't she?" He rubs you through your shorts, pulling it down just over your ass.

"Shit, youre so wet. I bet I could fuck you right now."

"Please chan- put it in please-" you don't see his facial expressions but you can hear him. His low laugh, sometimes getting interrupted by a groan.

He grabs his cock, pushing it in until he bottoms out.

"Feel good? Feeling full aren't you" he practically suffocates you— pressing your face into the bed.

He grips your waist, hips jutting up into yours?

"Such a tight cunt, haven't we fucked it enough" the house was silent, apart from the low sound of tv you think you might've woken everyone up.

He moves on hand from your hips to your clit, rubbing it to the pace of his thrusts.

You try to warn him, but it was all muffled. Your pussy clenched on his cock. Restricting his movement.

"Gonna- fuck, cum on my cock."

You felt yourself let go, soaking his cock.

"The others might want a turn now you know."

#surfinminho #stray kids #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids smut #bangchan #dom!bang chan

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meraki-yao · 10 months ago

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RWRB Quotes that speak to me on this really fucking shitty day

Hey, have I told you lately that you're brave? I still remember what you said to that little girl in the hospital about Luke Skywalker:"He's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is." Sweetheart, you're proof too.

It is, indeed, bullshit. It's all I can do not to pack a bag and be gone forever. Perhaps I could live in your room like a recluse. You could have food sent up for me, and I'll be lurking in disguise in a shadowy corner when you answer the door. It'll all be very dreadfully Jane Eyre

I'm afraid, though, I'm stuck here. Gran keeps asking Mum when I'm going to enlist, and did I know Philip had already served a year by the time he was my age. I do need to figure out what I'm going to do, because I'm certainly closing in on the end of what's an acceptable amount of time for a gap year. Please do keep me in your- what is it American politicians say?-thoughts and prayers

It drives me nuts sometimes that you don't get to have more say in your life. When I picture you happy, I see you with your own apartment somewhere outside of the palace and a desk where you can write anthologies of queer history. And I'm there, using up your shampoo and making you come to the grocery store with me and waking up in the same damn time zone with you every morning.

Have you ever had something go so horribly, horribly, unbelievably badly that you'd like to be loaded into a cannon and jettisoned into the merciless black maw of outer space?

I wonder sometimes what is the point of me, or anything. I should have just packed a bag like I said. I could be in your bed, languishing away until I perish, fat and sexually conquered, snuffed out in the spring of my youth. Here lies Prince Henry of Wales. He died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

Specifically, we were discussing enlistment, Philip and Shaan and I, and I told Philip I'd rather not follow the traditional path and that I hardly think I'd be useful to anyone in the military. He asked why I was so intent on disrespecting the traditions of the men of this family, and I truly think I dissociated straight (ha) out of the conversation, because I opened my blasted mouth and said, "Because I'm not like the rest of the men of this family, beginning with the fact that I am very deeply gay, Philip."

Once Shaan managed to dislodge him from the chandelier, Philip had quite a few words for me, some of which were "confused or misguided" and "ensuring the perpetuity of the bloodline" and "respecting the legacy." Honestly, I don't recall much of it. Essentially, I gathered that he was not surprised to discover I am not the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be, but rather surprised that I do not intend to keep pretending to be the heterosexual heir I'm supposed to be.

Sometimes I imagine moving to New York to take over launching Pez's youth shelter there. Just leaving. Not coming back. Maybe burning something down on the way out. It would be nice.

9. How hard you try

10. How hard you've always tried.

11. How determined you are to keep trying.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

They all turn to look at him, and Alex feels a wave of something so much bigger than himself sweep over him, like when he was a child standing bowlegged in the Gulf of Mexico, rip-tide sucking at his feet. A sound escapes his throat uninvited, something that he barely even recognizes, and June has him first, then the rest of them, arms and arms and hands and hands, pulling him close and touching his face and moving him until he's on the floor, the goddamn terrible hideous antique rug that he hates, sitting on the floor and staring at the rug and the threads of the rug and hearing the Gulf rushing in his ears and thinking distantly that he's having a panic attack, and that's why he can't breathe, but he's just staring at the rug and he's having a panic attack and knowing why his lungs won't work doesn't make them work again.

He's faintly aware of being shifted into his room, to his bed, which is still covered in the godforsaken fucking newspapers, and someone guides him onto it, and he sits down and tries very, very hard to make a list in his head.

One.

One

Once upon a time, there was a young Prince, who was born in a castle. And there had never been a prince quite like him: he was born with his heart on the outside of his body.

Whereas the other princes and noble children could withstand the slings and arrows of childhood, the Prince felt everything acutely. Everything seemed to touch and threaten his unprotected heart.

Oh for Christ sake Alex, for once! I wish you could see me for who I am and not who you want me to be! Sometimes, I don't think you know me at all!

I wasn't raised by a loving, supportive family like you were!

Nothing will ever happen to you.

I don't want your protection, I want your support.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry hanover stuart fox #firstprince #book quotes #personal #i can't anymore

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rockingrobin69 · 4 months ago

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Goodness (grief)

It’s windy. Always windy here, like an omen or a sign or a hill. It’s not a hill (not-not a hill, too) and probably not a sign.

My shoes squeak terribly. It’s so distracting I can barely walk straight. With every step, squeak, squeak. Each pace closer (and further away from the car, from the world) and the squeaking, it’s driving me crazy.

I’m not crying. Not-not crying either. It’s windy, my shoes are annoying as fuck, and I can’t quite remember why I even came here. Thought it’d be a nice moment, somehow? It’s not. There’s construction work on the wall maybe twenty metres away, it’s loud and there are faces staring at me (god, can’t anyone crumble in peace anymore?) is it funny to call for god here? Is it—ooh—blasphemous?

Sorry. Sorry. I know I’m being prickly and hard but god, (haha), it’s windy and I’m tired. Have been tired for a long time. There’s this… fog, in my head, not quite fog, and it makes every movement heavier, but I don’t always notice it. So I carry it around, this ten-stone weight of a not-fog, and then I’m tired? Oh, wait, was this an understanding? Beats me.

I went to an automatic car wash today. First time in my life. I think. Can’t remember ever being behind the wheel while the car goes on its little ride. You just sit there? On neutral? And it carries you through. I laughed so hard when the big roller-thingies came, I actually startled myself. It hurt my throat how hard I laughed. With surprise and delight and mostly surprise. I didn’t expect it to feel like this? I didn’t expect anything to feel quite like this.

So then I came here, with a clean car (and wouldn’t you be so happy. Relieved to know I’m driving a clean car). (How did you raise such a slob? Honestly). It was meant to be a, I don’t know, moment. It’s not. I think I just wanted it to be something, just wanted, just wanted it to be. Something. And it’s not.

So I walk back (squeak squeak), in defeat or in triumph, neither. I just walk and squeak. Back to the car. I’ve always cried the most in the car, shielded from Other Eyes (like faces staring at you from behind a tractor). (Always those issues with being seen).

I manage to drive maybe ten metres before it starts. The crumbling, the crumbling. Park (the car park’s empty, and I barely moved) and bawl and bawl. I’m so used to telling myself to stop it, not now, not here, that in the moment of truth I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. Is this what it’s meant to feel like?

(I always used to have to justify my sadness, to quantify and register and prod. Maybe, if I found its core, the Centre, I’d be able to let it go. When have I ever let anything go? God. No, not god. Something else. Anything else).

So I cry (and cry) and cry (and cry) and cry (it’s honestly tearing my throat apart). No one is here and no one is looking. I can cry all I want, I stop after two, three minutes. This it? Is it over? Not over-over, just, is this fucking fog starting to lift, or—what more can I do, what other, drastic action can I take, how dramatic and terrible do I need to be (when it’s just me here, just me, no one is watching, fucking, fuck, give yourself a fucking break). I don’t feel better.

I drive to your house. Someone still lives here. And I take a few calls and answer an email (it’s a working day after all, I’m supposed to be working. An adult, I think they call it). There’s a dog (I love the dog) there’s a break from the fucking wind. I take it like the coward I am. (A fucking break, please, please).

I write this. I don’t cry, just tear up a little. The dog wants to go outside, so we go. There’s a tiny little bit of sunlight.

I… might feel better after all.

#grief

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ninja-muse · 11 months ago

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2023 Reading Wrap-up

I feel like this year was pretty average in terms of my reading. Some great books, some awful books, a lot of books in the middle. And while I feel as if I kept hitting slumps, I don’t think my stats really reflect that. I kept reading and even though I didn’t hit my goal of 140 books, that’s more because I read more thick and dense books, spent more time writing, and am one year further from the direness of 2020 and 2021.

This also seems to have been the year of T. Kingfisher for me (and also Ursula Vernon). I read several of her horror novels, as well as Digger and a bunch of the ebooks she makes free for patrons, which are really easy go-tos when you want something light and right now. I was kind of surprised when I realized she was my top author because usually that’s Seanan McGuire.

And I read more ebooks in general, because why should I wait for two months for the library to get a physical book in circulation when I can wait two weeks for it to come in on Libby? I’m still trying to reserve Libby use for lighter, faster, less involved books, because I tend to end up skimming a little more and there’s something about physical paper that helps me retain info better when the text is dense.

Now, stats! Yearly total: 128, excluding rereads and picture books Queer books: 44 (34%) Authors of colour: 15 (11.7%) Books by women: 74.5 (58%) Authors outside the binary: 7.5 (5.8%) Canadian authors: 14 (10.9%) Off the TBR shelves: 39 (30.4%) Books hauled: 41 ARCs acquired: 57 ARCs unhauled: 60 DNFs: 9 Rereads: 3 Picture Books: 6

If you look at last year’s stats and the year before’s, I’m pretty much holding steady in terms of my diverse reading—a little more than a third queer, about 60% female and 10% Canadian, around 6% gender-diverse authors. I’m way down on authors of colour though, and I didn’t hit my stretch goal of 20 Canadians, so those are things I’ll have to pay attention to in the year to come. It would be nice if I could manage more queer books too, but that’s not something I’m going to try for quite as much.

Two of my reading goals for the year were to read more books from my TBR than I acquired, and to keep my ARC levels about even. Seems like I pretty much hit them! I expect that 2024 will see fewer book acquisitions because a lot of my 2023 haul was bookstore visits with my dad and we’ve now hit pretty much every store in the city. I was honestly kind of surprised that my ARC problem stands where it does. I was so sure that I was going to have at least 10 more incoming books than outgoing. Go me! My spring ARC purge really, really helped.

I did all right on the rest of my reading goals. All but one book read (The Great Cat Massacre), which was the real point of the list! I only managed to finish one StoryGraph challenge, if you don’t count my pages goal, and as always I failed to read as many classics as I wanted. I’m starting to suspect I’m not a classics person, despite my interest in history and historical fiction. If anyone has classics recs for me, let me know?

To be completely honest, though, I'm not sure I'm going to continue posting to Tumblr. I pretty much stopped updating my feed in the summer and I've felt more relaxed, both in terms of Things To Do Each Day but also in terms of my reading. When I was more active on here, I felt pressured to read diversely at all times and though I try to have a healthy spread of perspectives, I know that I generally don't and am therefore a bad person by Tumblr standards. I am curious what my mutuals have been getting up to this year so please, sound off! And let me know if you do want to see reviews and wrap-ups continue here.

(Friendly reminder that I'm ninjamuse on Storygraph and LibraryThing, if you'd like to follow me there.)

And if anyone’s interested, here are the rest of my year’s highlights:

Top Five Fiction (not ranked)

The Hollow Places - T. Kingfisher

Menewood - Nicola Griffith

Bookshops and Bonedust - Travis Baldree

A Half-Built Garden - Ruthanna Emrys

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi - Shannon Chakraborty

Top Five Non-Fiction (not ranked)

Magisteria - Nicholas Spencer

Diary of a Misfit - Casey Parks

Evidence of Things Seen - Sarah Weinman, editor

Lay Them to Rest - Laurah Norton

Like Every Form of Love - Padma Viswanathan

Most Impressed By:

Shubeik Lubeik - Deena Mohamed

Diary of a Misfit - Casey Parks

The Hands of the Emperor by Victoria Goddard

A Half-Built Garden - Ruthanna Emrys

Most Disappointing:

Tortilla Flat - John Steinbeck

British Columbiana - Josie Teed

A Killing in Costumes - Zac Bissonette

Tauhou - Kōtuku Titihuia Nuttall

Longest Book: The Hands of the Emperor - Victoria Goddard

Best queer book: Diary of a Misfit - Casey Parks

Did I beat 2022? No. Did I beat my Best Year Ever? No. That would be 2021. Did I read more classics? Not even close. Did I read more Canadians? No. I held about steady. Did I whittle my TBR shelves down any? No. Was it a good reading year? Probably about average?

Breakdowns by month:

January February March April May June July August September October November December

#reading wrap-ups #read in 2023 #reading stats #rec lists

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miraclesabound · 1 year ago

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When It All Goes to Hell

Summary: Shoresy manages to really fuck things up between himself and Reader, and while Laura is willing to help patch things up, things get ugly first. Sequel to "That Hits The Spot".

Pairing(s): Shoresy/Laura Mohr, one-sided (?) Shoresy/F!Plus Size Reader, eventual Laura/Shoresy/F!Plus Size Reader, background Sanguinet/Mercedes

Notes: I know this makes her a little more like an OC, but I'm now expressly writing Reader as a plus size woman, and Shoresy has given her a nickname related to her job as a publicist for the Bulldogs. She can still be read as any race. Set after Season 1. Any italicized dialogue is meant to be in French. Also on AO3.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, romantic frustration, canon-typical language, past fat-phobia on Shoresy's part, Reader using Shoresy's first name, misogynistic and fatphobic language, sexual harassment, aggravated assault, mention of police, description of injuries, hopeful ending (Friends to Enemies to Possible Lovers)

Tags: @pettyprocrastination, @captainsbestgal, @magpie-to-the-morning, @deadbranch, @brewed-pangolin, @ironmandeficiency

When Shoresy calls you over to play foosball with him and Sanguinet and Mercedes, you figure it’ll be guys vs. gals like it’s been most of the evening at the lanes. Generally, it’s been you, Nat, the twins and Mercedes on one side, and Shoresy, Sanger, Hitch, Dolo and Goody on the other. However, he surprises you by nodding to his side of the table. When you ask, he says, “Trust me, Pubsy, small game like this – makin’ Sanger play against his sweetie would just be mean.”

Honestly, you don’t mind the nickname. You like your job as a publicist for the Bulldogs, and at least he didn’t choose Pubby. That sounds too much like “Tubby”, and you hope that your weight isn’t the only thing Shoresy sees about you. In the last few weeks since he helped fix up your back, you’ve found yourself getting more and more sweet on him.

You join Shoresy on the red team, while Sanger and Mercedes take blue. “Rules are simple,” Shoresy says. “Gals on goals, guys in the middle, reset the ball if no one can reach it, we’ll play best two of three, losers buy the next drinks.”

You’re decent at bowling and billiards, but it turns out that foosball is much more your speed. With your goaltending and Shoresy on the attack, you absolutely annihilate the other couple. A third game isn’t needed, and you even join Shoresy in a bit of trash talk before Sanger goes to get your victory shots.

You and Shoresy stay a team for the rest of the night, and his arm keeps ending up around your shoulders. The others aren’t blind to the two of you getting cozy. Hitch and Dolo make particular note of it, and their conversation makes Nat’s ears tingle, even over the noise of the bowling lanes.

“You think he’s wheeling the publicist?” Dolo asks.

“Dunno, me son,” Hitch responds. “But ‘s true that where she’s to, that’s where ‘e’s at.” He smiles. “They do make a right pretty pair – would knit a fine coupla’ little ones.”

Nat’s managerial instincts are screaming at her. When no one’s looking, she pulls out her phone and sets herself a reminder – she needs to talk to you within the week about this Shoresy situation.

“Am I in trouble?” you ask. Coming into Nat’s office during the day is rare – she usually leaves you to your own devices in your room down the hall.

“Not at all,” Nat promises. “But I need you to be straight with me about something – are you and Shoresy a thing?”

“Um…” you shrug. “We’re not officially giving it the old college try, but we’re not not a thing…I think?” You wish you could give a clearer assessment. You and Shoresy have spent time together every day this week, and he’s been physically affectionate, but he hasn’t tried to kiss you either.

“Fuck…” Nat mutters. You look at her funny, and she speaks more clearly. “Listen, you’re a grown woman, I can’t tell you who to spend time with, but there’s some shit I think you need to see.” She pulls out her laptop and opens it to a video link. “Did you watch the National Seniors Championship back in ’19?”

“Didn’t get the chance.” You come around to her side of the desk and crouch to see the video. You squint when she hits play – “Is that Shoresy and JJ?”

“Yup – and it wasn’t pretty how they met.”

Your eyes grow wider and wider as the video goes on. It’s not just Shoresy hitting JJ’s leg that gets to you, though that’s one of the uglier hits you’ve ever seen. What’s viscerally upsetting is what Shoresy is saying to JJ through the whole thing. You’ve heard some vicious anti-fat talk in your time, both directed at you and in general. However, the pure vitriol coming out of Shoresy’s mouth is enough to make you nauseous.

The video finishes, and Nat turns to you. “You see why I’m worried?” she asks. You nod your understanding. “Plus, he’s getting Laura Mohr to warm up to him. He’s cleaned up his act, but he’s still a loudmouth, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No, no, I get it,” you say. “I appreciate the lookout.” You really do, even if you feel your heart deflating.

Nat’s words echo in your head for the next few weeks, especially after Laura finally accepts Shoresy’s request for a date. You hold out hope that it’ll just be a one-off, but when she starts attending practices and coming along to group outings, you know she’s Shoresy’s sweetie for real.

You don’t hate her – far from it. In fact, as she integrates into the group, you understand why Shoresy is into her. She’s more his type, especially with the age gap, and she’s just good fun to be around. This woman knows every joke you can think of and then some, she’s got good taste in movies, and when you see her around her kid, you recognize that she’s a wonderful mother. You’re even comfortable with her calling you P in front of the gang.

No, it’s not Laura who ruins things between you and Shoresy – it’s Shoresy himself. You understand him pulling away from time together; you’d be doing the same thing if you’d met someone. That part makes perfect sense, even if it stings. That said, when you see him, he’s still kind to you – or so you think.

However, one evening changes all that. You’re finishing up paperwork in your office, and you hear the guys on the team chatting down the hallway. You’re not above gossip, so you put your work down, trying to focus on what they’re saying.

“Think we’ll ever ask JJ back?” you hear Hitch ask. “The man could do his work, b’ys.” You’ve been wondering the same thing yourself – you know he ran back to Quebec after some woman trouble, but you never knew the particulars.

You hear Shoresy’s voice chirp back, “Not if I can fuckin’ help it – Frankie’s a fuckin’ coward who doesn’t know how to treat women. Fuckin’ walrus pulled Laurence LeBouef and didn’t worship at her fuckin’ feet? Fuckin’ fat loser…”

You tiptoe to the office door, close it as quietly as possible – and then go back to your desk and sob. Nat comes by to check on you about ten minutes later, and you tell her everything.

You’re not going to have Shoresy booted from the team; you’re not that vindictive - but you do cool considerably around him. You’re still cordial to the others and to Laura, but to him? You are winter incarnate. One time, he tries to tease you about something innocuous, and your response shocks him.

“Knock it off, Fenton, you’re too old for this.” NO-ONE, not even his dad, uses his first name. He doesn’t know how he stepped in it, but he has to make it up to you.

It’s Laura who texts you some time later, asking if the three of you can meet up at Doghouse. You haven’t been answering Shoresy’s texts or calls, and you know that he’s using Laura as a workaround, but if she’s going to be there with him, maybe this won’t be so bad.

On the night in question, you get there early, and you find a seat at the bar. You’re looking at your phone when someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey, is this stool taken?” The voice belongs to a decently attractive man with dark well-groomed facial hair and a stylish haircut.

“All yours – my friends’ll use these other ones when they get here.”

You think that’s the end of it, but instead of taking the stool elsewhere like you expect, the man sits down next to you. “Buy you a drink while you wait? I’m Rolland, but everyone calls me RJ.” You can’t remember the last time a guy took the initiative so quickly to chat with you. You ask for a whiskey and Coke, and RJ gets a tall pint of some beer you don’t know the name of.

The conversation flows easily at first – but then you find yourself ill at ease. You don’t know if it’s RJ’s mannerisms, or if he’s looking too intensely at you – but something here isn’t right. It doesn’t help that he finishes his pint rapidly and is already on a refill while you’re only halfway through your cocktail. When he asks if you want to leave with him after only about fifteen minutes of chatting, you’re only too happy to tell him no.

“Told you, I’m meeting my friends.” Your phone buzzes, and you see a message from Laura. “In fact, they’re parking now.”

RJ has been smiling, but now that smile turns into a snarl. “You got some fuckin’ nerve leading me on, you fat bitch!” Before you can chew him out, something crashes into your face and shatters against it. You lose your balance and hit the floor hard.

As you try to sit up, RJ is staring down at you with a twisted grin. “Not so high and mighty now, are ya?” He reaches out like he’s going to grab your hair, but in a blur, he’s shoved back against the bar, and Shoresy is there, his eyes burning like the wrath of God.

You’re so disoriented by the last twenty seconds that you think you must be seeing things – when did he get here? That said, Shoresy’s voice is unmistakable. “YOU DON’T HIT WOMEN, YOU FUCKIN’ ANIMAL!” He bellows, and he lands at least two punches on RJ, both to the face.

Someone touches your arm and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Hey, P, hun, it’s just me…” You turn, and Laura’s right next to you. “Can you stand?”

You nod, and she helps you up. Two bouncers are pulling Shoresy off RJ, and when you hear a siren, you realize someone must have already called paramedics, cops, or both.

The paramedics confirm that you avoided a concussion, but RJ isn’t so lucky. The small cuts on your face are also nothing compared to his black eye and broken nose. The cops even try to hold Shoresy briefly for assault. They don’t let him go until they get the video from the manager showing what happened. By the time it’s all figured, it’s past midnight, and you just want to go home. Laura’s been helping you stay calm, but when Shoresy finally comes over to check on you, you lose your shit.

“Fuck you, Shoresy!”

“Fer what?!”

“Fer bein’ a fuckin’ hypocrite!” you tell him. “I know how you feel about fat people; I heard you shit-talking JJ when he’s not even here to defend himself – and then you go and nearly goddamn kill someone because I’m insulted??”

“But Pubsy, it was more than –”

“I’m not fuckin’ finished! You do this in front of your sweetie too? Like I’m…fuckin’…like I’m yours to save? And now I’m gonna hafta explain this whole goddamn thing to Nat and try to keep it out of the news and….and…oh fuck me…”

You can feel tears stinging the edges of your eyes as the last of the adrenaline leaves your system. Laura lets you lean on her, and she tells Shoresy, “Babe, I think it’s gotta be just us girls for a minute – see you tomorrow?” Shoresy pouts, but he accepts a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye and he scoots out.

You and Laura sit down on a nearby bench, and she pulls a tissue out of her coat for you. While you dab your eyes, she says, “I’m not gonna tell you not to be mad at Shoresy, but did you actually see what it was that RJ hit you with?”

You shake your head. “Nope – just that it crashed on my face and I hit the deck.”

“It was his pint glass – and I saw that one of the shattered pieces looked like a dagger. I don’t read minds, but I know I feared the worst – and I bet Shoresy did too.”

A cold feeling runs down your spine as you remember the violent glint in RJ’s eyes. “You…you think he might have…?” You make the throat-cutting gesture.

“I dunno,” Laura admits. “But I know Shoresy doesn’t want to take any chances when it comes to you – he likes you a lot.”

You want to be happy about that comment, but everything just feels like shit right now. “I’m sorry,” you groan. “I swear I haven’t been trying to steal him – fuck’s sake, I’ve been actively pushing him away!”

“I know,” Laura says. “But…if he were to get himself figured out, would you … be willing to share?”

Your mental gears grind to a halt so fast that you’re surprised steam hasn’t come out of your ears. “….WHAT.”

“That’s what we wanted to talk about with you tonight before everything went pear-shaped.”

The idea Laura’s presenting is something you just cannot process right now. Your confusion must read on your face, because she offers you a hand to stand up and says, “Let me get you home so you can sleep – we’ll catch back up on this in the morning.”

#shoresy #shoresy x reader #shoresy spoilers

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bluejay-writes · 1 month ago

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MysticTober 2024 - Day 16: Look a this Photograph

Rating: G Prompt: Zen/OC & Theatre WordCount: 1720 Summary: Autumn finally makes it back to Korea to watch her childhood best friend act her favorite role. But will Zen even remember her? Author's Notes: (Yes, it is a day late. You caught me.) I've been sitting on this concept awhile. It's also a callback to Day 6's fic "I knew him", honestly they're probably the same timeline. I'm a huge fan of these idiots. I'll probably write more about them later.

“Zen! Two minutes to curtain.”

The actor smiled, placed a kiss on his fingers and then touched the faded photo tucked into his dressing room mirror. It was his pre-show ritual, sending his love to his best friend before he took to the stage to become someone else entirely. He hadn’t seen her since grade school, when her family moved overseas. Hell, he hadn’t heard from her even, they didn’t have cell phones back then, and even if he had… there was no way her parents would have allowed her to stay in touch. They disapproved of their friendship from the very first day. Even after her parents divorced, her father had been even more adamant that they not associate with each other.

In hindsight, Zen knew that he’d been in love with her. Puppy love. Ten-year-old love. But that didn’t make it less, in his eyes. Knowing her had helped him feel his way through so many roles. This role had been her favorite character in any play - he’d heard the soliloquies so many times from her on the playground, while she was trying to put on an old english accent and just sounded pretend posh instead. He hadn’t cared, then, happy to play along with whatever scene she’d bring up, even if it meant playing Ophelia to her Hamlet.

He’d auditioned for Hamlet every single time there was a show. It was his very first audition, and it may have taken years, but he finally landed the starring role. She’d never know, but that was fine. This role is for her.

Autumn fidgeted in her seat. Thanks to her contact with one of the Directors at C&R, she’d managed to reserve a seat in one of the boxes, the perfect view of the stage. Rested on her lap was a bouquet of flowers she’d picked out especially, knowing just how sensitive to scents that Hyun had been when they were young. Beautiful, but not overwhelming. Coming to this show had been a risk, but one that she couldn’t avoid. Her father had been adamant that she not come back to Seoul after they’d moved, but he would never explain why. If she tried telling him that she was going to come out for one of Zen’s shows, he would alternate between getting angry and simply scheduling something that she couldn’t weasel her way out of over top of it. Now that she was a grown woman, however, there was nothing he could do to stop her. Sure, he’d protested her going “overseas” by herself, but he couldn’t really argue when she had a full itinerary planned out, most of which was business contact work with a few “leisure times” planned, like this one.

She took a deep breath, wondering if the other seat in the small box would fill - and after a few moments her curiosity was rewarded by the Director himself coming in and settling next to her. “Good evening, Miss Jones.” He raised a single eyebrow at the flowers, but did not immediately ask about them. “I couldn’t reserve simply half the box, and I’d hate to see the ticket go to waste.”

“Good evening to you as well, Mr. Han.” Autumn smiled. “Ah, so that is why you asked if I was bringing a second person?” She hadn’t considered that he might need to reserve the entire box. Ah well, being a fan of the theatre wasn’t something that she’d be looked down on for, here at least.

“Indeed.” He said with a small smile. “I am pleased you did not have a companion tonight, as I had been hoping to make time to see this particular show again.”

“Again?” Autumn was surprised. Hamlet wasn’t that popular, despite being Shakespeare, that someone of his caliber would make time to see it twice in a single run.

“One of my personal friends is a cast member. I find the serious tone of the Shakespeare work suits their fine acting abilities better than the romances and modern dramas they’ve been cast in of late due to their looks. Dare I suggest you might also be here to see a specific performer?” He gestured to the flowers on her lap and she smiled, knowing he’d bring them up at his earliest opportunity.

“Yes, a friend I haven’t seen since I was a child. My business finally brought me here while he was performing.”

The lights dimmed, and Mr. Han smiled and gestured to the stage. “Enjoy, Miss Jones. I know I will.”

Intermission rolled around, and Zen emptied his water bottle, his mind spinning. He’d managed a glance up at the boxes, like he usually did during that scene. He liked to know when his friends were going to surprise him at the stage door, but today was different. He could tell immediately that Jumin had reserved his usual box, but the person with him had bright bright red hair. Seven had never come with Jumin to a play, and the only other person he knew with hair that particular shade of red lived halfway around the world. He supposed it was possible that Jumin was on a blind date with someone unfortunately fortunate enough to have that particular shade of red hair, or that he’d gotten Seven to attend by letting him wear one of his girly cosplays, but… Ugh. It was getting to his head. Why did he look at the boxes again? Oh right. Not being surprised by the RFA. At least there wasn’t a mop of blonde up there. Yoosung liked to surprise him by tackling him with a hug. The paparazzi loved to speculate about their relationship. At least Jaehee managed to talk him out of it when she was there. For his reputation. But then he got double hugs at the next meeting, so at least he wasn’t hurting the boy’s feelings too badly.

Autumn looked to her box-mate when the lights came up for intermission. Before she could say anything, he spoke. “You’re here for Zen.”

She felt her cheeks go pink, and cursed her pale, freckled skin. “I am.” There was no point in denying it, the man could follow her to the stage door and get the answer that way if he wanted to.

“I didn’t know Zen kept in touch with any of his childhood friends.”

Autumn considered for a moment and then came to the only conclusion that made sense with the information that she had.

“Zen’s your personal friend then, Mr. Han?”

He smiled, and nodded. “Call me Jumin, if you would. I don’t feel a need to be formal in a social outing.”

She laughed at that. “Very progressive of you. You may call me Autumn, if you’d like. Just don’t think that’ll distract me from the fact that you know Zen. How is he doing? Thriving, I hope.”

“Hm.” Jumin said, a soft thoughtful sound, more a placeholder than anything else. Autumn didn’t expect him to tell her much of anything, she was a stranger who only claimed to be a childhood friend, after all. “I would say he’s doing well, but he doesn’t say a lot about himself, for as much as he talks about himself.”

Autumn smiled sadly. So he still had that mask on after all this time? She’d seen it around their parents when they were younger, but he’d at least been able to be his joyful, free self around her back then.

“Sounds like Zen.” She said quietly, as the lights once again dimmed for the play to resume.

Zen was exhausted. It had been a great show, closing night, and he just knew there would be a mob at the stage door tonight. He was half tempted to pull Jumin into a paparazzi-breaking kiss just to get himself out of having to deal with all of the people. But he respected his friend far too much to endanger his reputation just to get out of one night of handshakes and autographs. Maybe he’d be up for a late dinner, or… no, he was probably here with a date. He couldn’t rely on Jumin to get out of this one. He slipped his trademark coat on, and then tucked his lucky photo back in his pocket. Time to face the music.

Autumn bounced on her toes. Next to her, Jumin chuckled. “You’re nervous. Don’t be. He’ll be here. He knows better than to run off on nights I’m here.”

Autumn gave Jumin a look. This may not have been only the second time he saw Hamlet. Did he just have that box reserved for the whole season? The whole show run? She would likely never know, as it would be wildly impolite to ask. They hung back, letting the fans who’d come out get their time with Zen before they monopolized his attention.

Eventually, the crowds had thinned out, and they stepped up to where Zen was casually leaning against a railing, waiting for Jumin with an eyebrow raised. “Jumin Han.” He greeted, when they were close enough. Autumn might have been hiding behind the flowers a bit. She was so nervous, even though Jumin told her she didn’t need to be. She hadn’t seen Hyun in a decade. She was terrified that he wouldn’t want to see her again, or wouldn’t recognize her after so long.

“Zen. Miss Jones here has some flowers for you.” Not “My companion” or “business associate” even, he was carefully not laying any claim, Autumn noticed. Interesting.

Autumn held out the flowers, revealing her face as she did so. There was nowhere left to hide.

Zen took a preparatory breath before taking the flowers, and even then he noticed they were surprisingly not fragrant. Had Jumin helped her choose, or… Wait a damn minute.

“Autumn Jones as I live and breathe.” Zen said, tearing up. He handed the flowers blindly to Jumin, and then was wrapping his arms around her in the tightest hug known to mankind, lifting her off of her feet and spinning her around.

“Been awhile, Hyun.” She said, her voice hoarse from tears, but also full of laughter. Why did she think he wouldn’t recognize her? She shut her eyes against the oncoming tears just in time, as they were bombarded with hundreds of flashes from paparazzi cameras.

Gossip Weekly: Zen dating? It’s more likely than you think. People: Revealed: Jumin’s Fiance A! News: Mystery Woman to break up Zen/Jumin? Fans cry out “Get your claws off our Zenjumin!” The Daily: Love Triangle Woes: Will the mystery woman choose Zen’s fame, or Jumin Han’s money? The Herald: Who is the mystery woman? The Times: Mystery woman unmasked; Who is Autumn Jones? Business Weekly: Autumn Jones back in Korea? What does this mean for C&R? SK Money: Possible merger between C&R and Jones Financial has stock traders worried.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme zen #mysme zen/mc #zen/mc #mm_mystictober2024 #mystictober 2024

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