#Day Block Brewing Company

[missqhughes]

CAN HE GET YOU LIKE THIS? | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x jacksgf!reader

-> contains: cheating, smut with plot , SLIGHT angst, and other sexual themes, oc’s created for tha plot, intended lowercase, use of y/n

-> IN WHICH: jack almost cant seem to control himself around another woman at the lake house; and to make it worse, in front of his girlfriend. when she cries her frustrations to her boyfriends older brother, he seems to have the perfect solution to her problems.

-> my first hockey fic! i spent so much time on it, and i’m pretty proud tbh. also, i’m so excited to post on this page, and as i always say on my other blog, hope you love it as much as i do!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never the jealous type.

she never needed anyone’s approval.

but god, what jack was doing was pissing her off.

for the first time, luke had brought his girlfriend april, to the lake house for the summer, and this week, y/n had the unpleasant company of aprils friend stampeding around the house for the week.

about 100% of the time, she could handle girls throwing themselves at jack at this point. she was used to it; jack was always a good boyfriend to her, and could always control himself with his endless female attention.

until today.

the july sun delivered a scorching heat down on the group as they conversed somewhere on the middle of the lake in the hughes family boat.

the typical casual conversation that y/n, jack, and his brothers had on their boat days were greatly interrupted by the ear piercing voices of april’s friends.

“jack, wanna let me drive the boat?”

“jack, the sun is too bright! can i please wear your hat?”

jack let out low chuckles at the flattery delivered to him, and y/n was doing her usual job at ignoring them.

with her dark tinted sunglasses on and her head resting on the back seat of the boat, she saw her boyfriend place his white baseball cap on one of april’s god forsaken friend.

her eyebrows furrowed; jack never fed into anything like this. the pang of anxiety lowly rested in the pit of her stomach, but she chose to ignore it.

he knew better.

“jacky, how does it look on me?”

through her dark lenses, she witnessed the ratty girl in front of her spin in front of jack, pulling the sides of her bikini up while doing so.

he made no attempt to hide his gaze on the girl in front of him, or the comment that slipped from his lips afterwards;

“looks good,” he said lowly, probably thinking that his girlfriend mere feet away from him was fast asleep from the summer heat, unaware to his tease.

the anxiety in y/n’s stomach began to surface more, a jealousy and anger she hadn’t felt in a situation like this before arising. she thought whatever of it, that she was being crazy, that she could shove this feeling down.

y/n kept her gaze straight forward, blocking out any of the chatter coming from anyone in her vicinity; her eyes locked on luke’s slow speed on the boat, conversing casually with april, unaware of the drama brewing behind them.

god, can he not drive any faster? she thought to herself, the annoyance within growing deeper and deeper.

the boat rocked along with the motion of the water beneath it, but y/n did her best to sit completely still, feeling that if she moved, the her negative emotions would swirl harder.

after a grueling 4 minute ride back to the dock, luke had secured the boat,

“everyone’s good to get off now,” he told the group, grabbing april’s hand and towel, assisting her onto the dock.

the short haired girl, the one throwing herself all over jack, the one who’s name y/n didn’t even bother to remember in their introductions, was just about to take it too far.

she stood up first, jack and y/n following behind her.

the ratty girl “dropped” her towel, allowing the perfect opportunity to bend down in front of jack,

“woops! my bad,” her voice made an embarrassing attempt to be seductive to jack, turning her head to eye him up and down.

jack let out a deep inhale, just enough to set y/n off further on her silent rage.

“all good, let me help you out.”

the girl giggled as she took jacks hand, letting it linger on his skin longer than necessary.

he paid no mind to his girlfriend behind him.

the insatiable urge to strangle the two idiots in front of y/n was barely present on her face, as she decided to take back control of the situation, and remind both of them who his significant other was.

“babe, i’m tired, do you want to come up and take a nap?”

his conversation with the short haired girl was cut with y/n’s words, he looked back at the two, contemplation in his mind, before smiling at y/n.

see? nothing to worry about-

“i uh, i think i’m gonna stay down here for a bit, don’t want to go inside yet, it’s just a really nice day y’know?”

her ears began to ring with his words, cheeks growing red as she looked over at luke and april, who shifted uncomfortably, now aware of the drama upon the dock.

“uh, yeah… yeah that’s fine.”

“i’ll be up soon, promise,” jack said as he sat down with april, luke, and her stupid friend.

y/n ignored his words, turning on her heel to walk up to the house, pace growing as soon as she was out of sight from the dock.

now that she was alone, all the feelings the thought she was suppressing were now at the forefront of her body and mind. she ran her hands through her hair, almost ready to rip it out from frustration.

y/n stormed through the house, and as she passed the living room, she was met with quinn; who was quietly reading a book with his feet kicked up on the ottoman.

before he lifted his head, his eyes went up first, gaze met with y/n’s indignant expression,

“woah, you okay, something happen on the one boat day i miss?” he said light heartedly,

“quinn, not now,”

y/n snapped at him, before slamming her bedroom door, the action echoing through the otherwise quiet house.

——————————————————————————

dinner wasn’t any better.

y/n didn’t realize how much time had gone by as she was staring at the ceiling, recounting the events of the day. jack did not keep his promise about “coming up soon” which wasn’t to the shock of y/n, considering his behavior today. he did stop in her designated room, to give her a kiss on the forehead, and to tell that dinner was ready.

and that was it.

now, she was sitting next to jack at the table, his happy chatter with his brothers, april, and company sounding like mumbles in her ears. she felt a gaze on her, hoping it was jack, but when y/n turned her head softly to confirm, he was still smiling at his continued conversation.

like nothing was wrong.

there was only one other person who wasn’t talking, and her eyesight landed right on his.

quinn.

she shifted in her seat, quickly averting their eye contact, and picked at her quarter eaten meal with her fork.

“excuse me everyone, i’m gonna go lay down,”

jack looked at y/n, giving her a half smile and no thought to her abrupt departure, before returning to his seemingly endless conversation.

y/n began to pick her plate up to take it to the sink, when quinn’s voice spoke up,

“i’ll take care of it,” the tips of his fingers pushed down lightly on the edge of her plate.

“you sure? it’s fine i don’t-”

“just go lay down.”

y/n blinked at him a few times before nodding her head, setting her plate down and shuffling to her room.

she closed the door softly this time, letting out a shaky breath as she sat on the edge of the plush bed. her head was beginning to throb, not sure if it was from lack of food or just from the complete and total anxiety jack was giving her.

——————————————————————————

y/n scrolled mindlessly on her phone, again losing the track of time with the state she was in.

1:19am.

the dryness in her throat was becoming more present as she came down from her brain fog, deciding to clear herself with a glass of water.

y/n slipped into the kitchen, only the warm dim glow from the microwave light allowing her to see. the glass cups lightly clinked together as she pulled one out, then setting it down to fill up.

the refrigerator hummed softly, barely breaking the silence through the house. then, a raspy voice spoke behind her,

“what’re you doing up?”

y/n whipped her head around, almost dropping and shattering the glass of water in her hand,

“jesus christ quinn, you scared the shit out of me!”

she set down the glass to put a hand to her chest, an attempt to slow down the spike in her heart rate.

quinn let out a small, quiet laugh, “sorry, i thought you heard me.”

“no,” she let out a huff, “i didn’t,” y/n smiled back at him gently as the beating in her chest settled.

“so, what’s wrong?”

quinn was quick to change the conversation to put her on the spot, y/n’s lips parting as she thought of her next words.

“nothing, i don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“yes you do.”

y/n scoffed, “you really have a habit of interrupting me don’t you?”

“stop avoiding the question. what’s wrong? talk to me, y/n.”

the two stared at one another, having an unspoken battle with each other,

y/n broke first.

she swallowed, knowing the words about to spill out of her mouth were going to come shaky and scattered; she didn’t want quinn, or anyone for that matter, to know the state her mind was at. y/n hopped up to sit on the kitchen counter, retelling the day to quinn.

“it was… it was jack. today. he was just letting april’s stupid fucking friend flirt with him! and-”

“alana?”

she shot him a deep scowl, “don’t interrupt me to tell me what her stupid name is!”

quinn raised his hands in defeat, “sorry, sorry, keep going,”

“he let her wear his hat, she bent over in front of him and he said nothing, and as you could tell from earlier today, he didn’t even come up to the house with me when i asked…”

her words trailed off shakily, y/n felt hot, wet tears flow down her cheeks, slightly blurring her vision, she looked down, unable to meet quinn’s gaze she felt burning into her face.

“y/n… i’m sorry. he’s a shithead for that,”

he stepped closer to her, lessening the distance between them,

“y/n.”

she hummed in response, sniffles coming from her, still refusing to look up at him,

“y/n look at me.”

y/n knew how persistent quinn was, and he definitely was not going to let her get away with not looking at him. though it felt like lifting a ton of bricks, her glossy eyes looked up to meet his.

quinn’s eyes flickered all over her face, reading her sorrow expression. he brought his hand up to meet her face, gently using his thumb to brush away any fallen tears on her tinted cheeks.

“you know, i really hate it when you cry,” he cooed softly, still wiping away the spilling tears, paying more attention to her in these mere minutes than jack had been all day.

“i’m so mad at myself, i should’ve said something, i let it all happen in front of me,” y/n said, her quiet frustrations let out only for quinn’s ears to hear.

“hey, hey, no. you shouldn’t have even been put in that position, don’t blame yourself, okay?” he placed his hands on either sides of the counter, locking her in. his voice being stern but still soft, a tough love kind of talk.

y/n’s heart beated faster as she became hyper aware of how close their bodies were, feeling the warmth radiating off of him.

she wanted to knock herself in the head for feeling this way, but her heightened distaste for jack in the moment, quinn’s messy hair combined with his beard and tired eyes made him so sinfully appealing.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t have,”

y/n felt almost awkward in this moment, especially it being her boyfriends older brother. there was no way for her to move without being even closer to him.

“god, y/n… cant believe that… if i had you… i’d never let that happen,”

quinn’s tired eyes turned lustful by the second, going up and down y/n’s body before flickering between her own eyes and lips.

“quinn,” she let out with a breath, “you cant say things like that, you know you can’t,”

y/n couldn’t help herself from matching quinn’s motion, unable to tear away from looking at his full lips.

“after the shit he pulled today, i think i’m safe to do whatever the hell i want,”

the gentle demeanor in his voice was replaced with seduction, bringing his face closer to hers, close enough for their breaths to mingle.

“say the words y/n, i wont do anything you don’t want me to do. say the words and i’ll stop.”

she was between a rock and a hard place. it’s not like jack had outright cheated in front of her, and she would feel horrible doing something like that to him. however, his actions were inexcusable, and he saw not an inch of an issue with what he was doing. and at the exact same time, quinn was ready to be all over her. hell, he’s practically admitting to wanting his little brother’s girlfriend. in this moment, he could give her anything.

fuck it.

this is what he gets, she thought to herself. it’s not like he would find out anyway. no one would.

“i want you quinn.”

the words rolled off her tongue faster than her mind let her think about the consequences, and in no time, quinn captured y/n’s lips in his, securing his hands on to her waist.

the two kissed sloppily in the kitchen, out in the open, with too much opportunity to get caught. neither of them cared.

y/n’s hands found a home in his hair, quinn emitting a low groan as she gently tugged at his waves.

she felt a heat growing between her legs, and an attempt to close them for relief was blocked by quinn pushing them back open with his hips.

y/n gasped, allowing quinn’s tongue entry, and as he explored her mouth with his, she felt him growing harder against her core, making the wetness in her shorts more difficult to ignore.

quinn panted heavily as he pulled away, still gripping at her waist, fingers hugging the bottom hem of her shirt,

“can i take this off?”

she buzzed at his words, nodding vigorously. with her consent, he raised the shirt above her body, y/n lifting her arms in assistance.

quinn wasted no time to kiss down her neck to her now exposed upper chest, sitting perfectly pretty in her bra. he sucked and nipped at the bare skin, earning quiet moans from her soft lips.

“mm—fuck quinn,” y/n threw her head back in pleasure, giving more room for quinn to litter her chest with marks. she didn’t even care if they were going to bruise tomorrow or who was going to saw. everyone else was on the back burner of her mind.

her praise only made him rougher, sucking harder into her skin, feeling himself getting more and more rowdy by the second.

his lips went up to claim hers again, tapping her thigh as a signal to wrap her legs around his waist. she listened, hooking herself around him. quinn lifted her up effortlessly, their kiss not being broken as he peeked his eyes open in a tenth of a second to see their way to his room.

with one hand tucked under y/n’s ass, he turned the knob to his bedroom door, stepping into the room before closing the door behind him with a light kick.

quinn’s legs met the edge of the bed, and he threw her down before making himself pry his lips from her’s, plump and slick from his.

“you’re still okay with his?” he asked, his thumb drawing circles on her hips.

“more than okay, please quinn. i need more.”

he nodded, taking a step back to take all of her in with his eyes.

she looked at him confused for a moment, before he talked,

“strip.”

she swallowed heavily, ready to obey his words. y/n wiggled out of her shorts, leaving her skin only covered by a black bra and panties.

“i said strip. all the way.”

her heart was about to come out of her chest, all of it was beginning to feel real, and that she was about to be naked and on display for jack’s brother.

only hearing the beating in her chest, quinn watched as y/n unhooked her bra first, tits bouncing with the action, and he thought he could cum in his pants right then and there.

y/n sat down on the bed, staring deeply into quinn’s eyes, slipping her black panties down her half parted legs, pussy wet and glistening from the moonlight shining through the window.

“fuck,” he whispered, unable to control his hand from falling to his crotch, beginning to palm himself through his shorts.

with a single hand, quinn took his shirt off, dipping his head down to kiss her naked thighs. y/n shuddered at his action, his kisses being everywhere except where she desperately needed them to be.

he hovered just above her core, “can i?”

“quinn please stop fucking asking and just do it,” y/n begged, squirming under him, desperate for his touch.

he licked a long stripe down her wet folds, y/n unable to control the guttural moan that escaped from her lips. her back arched in pleasure at the feeling of quinn’s lips sucking on her puffy clit, aching for attention.

he couldn’t stop; he was devouring her like it was his death row and she was his last meal, already addicted to the taste of her pussy on his tongue.

quinn pushed her hips down, sticking his tongue in her and his nose bumping against her clit with each motion. y/n felt knots twisting and forming in her stomach, a strong release forming, one that jack had never even came close to making her feel.

“mmph, shit quinn— gonna fucking cum, oh— my fuck,”

profanities spilled out of y/n’s mouth, but her pleasure was cut short as his dripping lips pulled away from her aching core, craving his touch.

she whined at the loss of contact, only to be met with quinn peeling off his shorts and underwear, his throbbing dick aching with desire from his tip.

“when i make you cum, i want it to be on my dick, pretty girl.”

y/n felt like she could’ve exploded right then and there, but she bit her lip, moving closer to the edge of the bed, giving quinn better access to line up with her.

he ran his dick between her wet folds a few times before inserting himself in her, the two let out gracious moans at the mutual pleasure.

quinn started slow, hips rolling back and forth, before quickening his pace to a pornographic speed.

his lips hooked onto y/n’s once again, sloppy and wet, both groaning into each others mouths with delight. in the kiss he captured both her wrists, pinning them above her head.

quinn broke the kiss to look at her with his brows furrowed, concentrated on fucking y/n senseless. her bottom lip was between her teeth, tits bouncing with the speed of his thrusts.

“fuck y/n, you feel so good on my dick, can he ever get you like this? a moaning fucked out mess? hm?”

his words barely registered in her ears, body buzzing as his dick continued to destroy her pussy.

“no, no, mm— you fuck me so much better quinn,” y/n did her best not to scream it, still aware that the other people in the house had the potential to hear them.

“gonna— cum— y/n— shit,” quinn huffed out between thrusts. she also felt the now familiar knots forming in her stomach, her release about to come.

his movements became sloppy as his release coated her walls, and at the same time, she painted his dick with her own.

they felt euphoric, quinn pulled out of her slowly, groaning as his dick came out of her.

y/n laid out on the bed panting with closed eyes, hearing the light flicker on from quinn’s connected bathroom.

she felt a wet towel meet her sensitive core, hissing at the feeling.

“sorry, just wanna clean you up first,”

y/n looked at quinn while he cleaned her with concentration, his body glistening with sweat and his messy hair slightly sticking to his forehead.

“thank you, quinn,”

y/n was breathless watching quinn go back into the bathroom, her chest still rapidly rising and falling. she felt herself grow more tired with each passing minute.

quinn came back from the bathroom with a different pair of underwear on, holding out a pair of his boxers to put on. y/n gladly accepted, slipping them up her body. she grabbed her bra from the floor, hooking it back on.

after she was partly dressed, he delivered her a sweet, soft kiss to her lips. different than any kind of kiss they had so far, this one was deep and loving; his hands gently cupping her face.

“stay with me,”

quinn’s proposition took her by surprise, thinking he was going to send her back to her room after all this, but no.

“quinn, i really shouldn’t, it’s not a good ide-”

“you and jack can figure your shit out later. as of right now, you’re mine.”

he was right and she knew it. he claimed her, and there was definitely going to be some kind of consequence for this. either way y/n and jack were going to have to figure their shit out, but to her, that was an issue for the morning.

“okay, i’ll stay.”

quinn smiled at her, planting a kiss on her forehead. he peeled away at his thick blue comforter, leaving space for the both of them to crawl inside. y/n felt herself more comfortable falling asleep with quinn than she did with jack, whatever that meant. but she didn’t care. his body was tangled with hers, falling asleep to the soft beat of his heart.

pt. 2

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[highvern]

YUCK

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive moments

warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy

Length: ~2.9k

Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable.��

You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact). 

It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him. 

You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.

Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.

Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.

“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway. 

She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.

You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.

“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor. 

Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.” 

“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”

“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.” 

“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?” 

“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought.  “When was the last time you showered?” 

“I don’t know. Like two days ago?” 

“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though. 

“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.” 

“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.” 

“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.” 

Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he’s kept you in his arms the entire time.

“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch. 

You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.

“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.” 

You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?” 

Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.” 

You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.

“I can do that on my own,” you argue. 

The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.

“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”

He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close. 

How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.

Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.

When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.

“Hmmm?” 

“I said, it’s time to get out.”

More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.

“Alright, arms up,” he commands. 

You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.

“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head. 

“And you call me a freak?”

Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.

You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet. 

Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him. 

And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.

“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”

The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.

After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance. 

“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.

He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.” 

Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.

You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.

“Why?” 

“Because I just do.” 

Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not. 

“I don’t date.” 

“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.

“You aren’t gonna argue?” 

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.” 

You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.” 

“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”

“Deal with the devil.”

He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.

“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”

“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”

“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.

“It really wasn’t any trouble.”

It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.

“I’m tired,” you tell him. 

The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way. 

You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.

Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.

“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.

“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”

You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does. 

I sleep better when you’re here.

You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.

It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.

What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

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© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Invisible String

❝and isn't it just so pretty to think that all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.❞

Summary: You are having a pretty strange week and you just happen to run into the same guy every single day at the same coffee shop. He could be stalking you, or it could be fate. You aren’t totally sure.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.2k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. Anyways, here's some fluff. I hope that you are absolutely disgusted by it.

Warnings: language and cuteness.

Monday morning.

The bane of your existence. 

It didn’t help that you were hungover; head pounding, pleading with you to go back to sleep after your best friend convinced you to go out for karaoke on a Sunday night. Who in their right mind decided that karaoke on a Sunday night would be a good idea? You did. Not your best decision, you had to admit, and one you immediately came to regret as your alarm continuously reminded you that you needed to get up. You only had about eight minutes before you were to leave your apartment in order to make it to work on time, and it typically took you an hour to get ready– thirty minutes on a good day. You were absolutely pressing your luck with eight. 

You rushed into the kitchen, making a beeline towards your Keurig. Brewing yourself a cup of coffee was typically the first thing you did every morning, like clockwork; placing the disposable cardboard cup underneath the spout and setting it to automatic, allowing it to brew while you moved on to other things in your morning routine. It was always the perfect temperature by the time you came back to it.  

“Shit!” You cursed with a mouth full of toothpaste after realizing you’d completely missed the sink and a long line of frothy spit had dripped down to the front of your shirt. It was the only clean blouse that you had, and you definitely didn’t have time to go rummaging through your closet to find something else. With limited options available, you tell yourself that no one will notice and hurriedly swipe at the glob of mint green paste from your left boob. 

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, the stain jumped out at you as if it were a flashing sign, look at me! You knew you’d be self conscious about it throughout the day and that everyone would, in fact, notice, and opted for a black blazer to hopefully cover up your mistake. Once you were satisfied with your appearance– as satisfied as you had the time to be– you rushed out the door; your bag falling off of your shoulder as you tried to scrape your hair back into the neatest bun you could manage without brushing your hair, practically sprinting towards the bus stop, hoping that you’d make it on time.

It wasn’t until you got there, waiting with what seemed like the entire population of this accursed city, that you realized you had never even gone back to the kitchen for your coffee after you had started getting ready. It was still sitting there cold, and lonely, and untouched– just like you felt right now, standing at the bus stop, no coffee to warm your hands. 

You could just go to work, clock in on time, and drink that bagged shit your company supplies for the break room, but on a Monday and with the morning you’ve already had, that just wasn’t an option. You could see the bus headed your way but ultimately stepped out of the crowd and headed in the direction of the nearest coffeeshop, which thankfully was only two blocks up. 

As soon as you walked through the door and into the warmth of the cafe, you inwardly cringed at the sight of the six people waiting in line. There was really no point in complaining about it, you were already here and you had already missed the bus, and you were already going to be late. You had no option but to wait patiently in line behind some blonde guy in a suit. 

Your cellphone vibrated in your hand as you vaguely heard the man order a blueberry muffin and a latte. It was your boss, fuck. You silenced the phone call and decided to send them a quick text message instead, promising that you’d be there soon and made up some story about how the bus was late due to traffic. 

Still looking down at your phone, you thought you saw the man take a step to the side out of your peripheral vision, and you stepped forward towards the register. Only he hadn’t stepped to the side, and you stepped right into him, and your face collided with his back. When you went to take a step backwards, you tripped over the woman behind you and ended up falling on your ass. 

“I am so sorry!” You exclaimed, looking up at the man that you had just stepped into. Your cheeks warm at the sight of him, feeling infinitely more embarrassed when you see how attractive he is. “I thought I saw you move to the next register.”

He smiled and suddenly everything was okay, like you didn’t just trip and fall in front of like fifty people. 

“S’okay, love,” he replied, holding out his hand to help you up. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you replied, trying your hardest to play it cool. “That was totally planned.”

He laughs, once again flashing an angelic smile, “you’re a great actress, then.”

“Thanks,” you say as you dust off your pants. “I rehearsed that for weeks.”

He seemed to think you were being wildly clever as his head dropped back and a genuine bout of laughter escaped his throat. The people behind you in line were becoming clearly irritated, one even stepping around you to keep the line moving. Typically, you would have protested but you suddenly didn’t care about the time or that you had been cut in line. 

“Aegon?” The barista called out.

“That’s me,” his smile faltered just enough for you to notice. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“In a city with a population of 8.4 million people, I highly doubt that,” you step back in line after checking with the person behind you to make sure it was okay. “Have a good day.”

The man named Aegon still smiled, his head nodding to you before stepping out into the crowded city streets. If you were brave, you would have asked for his number, but instead you watched the door while you waited for your drink to be made; hoping that he would come back and sweep you off your feet.

You allowed yourself to live in that fantasy for a little while, until you became too busy at work and eventually forgot about the handsome stranger you had met in the coffee shop. 

Tuesday was worse. 

It wasn’t because you had a hangover or because you had woken up late again. In fact, it was quite the opposite. You were feeling pretty great on this particular morning. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day, and you had given yourself plenty of time for your usual morning routine; shower, makeup, clothes, coffee. The Spotify algorithm was providing you with a perfect soundtrack for your commute to the bus stop until–

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” 

You screeched as a double-breasted, suit-wearing businessman bumped into you and your coffee went flying towards the concrete; all over the ground, all over you. And for a moment, time stops as you could do nothing but stand there, completely shocked. The audacity he had to not only keep walking as if he hadn’t just ruined your perfect morning– and your shoes– but to yell back at you that you were the one who needed to watch where you were going. 

You hadn’t even gotten to take a sip of that coffee yet. 

Thankfully, Starbucks was only two blocks up, and you could make a pitstop for a refill and to clean yourself up and the coffee out of your shoes. Before you stepped in line, you made a beeline for the cream bar, hurriedly pulling napkins from the dispenser to shove them into the toes of your shoes. A few people in the lobby had begun to stare, and you sighed in defeat. This was frustrating that you were, once again, embarrassing yourself and making a scene in the same Starbucks two days in a row. 

“You know, in a city with a population of 8.4 million people,” you heard as you tried to dry off your tights. Looking up, you noticed the same man from yesterday. What was his name? Aegon, right? “Call me crazy, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we bumped into each other again.” 

“Maybe you’re stalking me,” you retorted with a sarcastic smile.

“Stalking the girl who’s spilled coffee all over herself?” He asked, eyes crinkling at the sides from the wide smile on his face. “I don’t know about that.”

You didn’t say anything, still a little irritated that you were even in this predicament, and now running into this handsome stranger again. Typically, you’d be elated to see him again, but not today.

“Let me buy you a coffee?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence that had grown between the two of you after he just stood there watching you try to blot the stain out of your white blouse. “It looks like you’re not having the best day.”

“Thanks for the offer, but not today,” you replied.

“Well, maybe tomorrow then?” 

“Yeah,” you said as you laughed through your nose, knowing that there was no possible way that you would see him again tomorrow unless he really was stalking you. “Tomorrow, for sure.”

He gave you another one of those remarkable smiles and nodded his head, “okay, I’ll see you then.”

Wednesday was better.

You woke up with a smile on your face and you gingerly started your routine, making your way towards your Keurig. It was the middle of the week; only three more days to go and you’d be free for the weekend. You already had plans for a Succession marathon and itched to make a home on your couch for the next two days with all of your favorite snacks and blankets.

But when you went to grab one of those tiny, plastic pods from the box, it was empty. You had told yourself yesterday that you needed to stop and grab coffee and milk, but had completely forgotten once your day had unraveled after that douchebag shouldered you on the sidewalk. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You always believed that one should enjoy the little things, but this week, it seemed as if those little things were on a mission to ruin your week. This time, you decided on the locally owned coffee shop that was only a block from your apartment. You passed by every day on your way to the bus stop, but they were typically so busy that you just didn’t have time to wait.

Today, they were surprisingly not nearly as busy as they usually were, in fact, they were almost completely empty. You still smiled at the barista as you walked right up to the counter without having to wait in line. 

“Could I please have a mocha latte, please?” You asked politely. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the barista replied with a frown. “We were supposed to get our delivery sometime last night but there was a mix-up with the trucks, and we’re kinda out of everything. There’s a sign on the door.”

Of course you didn’t see the sign until you were leaving, frustrated, and stepping out onto the sidewalk with only one option; Starbucks. 

This time you were prepared to see the good-looking stranger again, if fate were to have it; you were not covered in coffee, you did not have to rush on your way out the door, you were having a good hair day. Yet, as you stepped into the cool air conditioning of the corporate chain, you were saddened that you didn’t spot that golden halo of soft, blonde hair anywhere. You should have known not to get your hopes up, as the odds of seeing him three days in a row were slim and none. As you stepped up to the register you laughed at yourself, at how disappointed you were, as if you actually had a chance. 

You stood off to the side, scrolling through your phone while waiting for the barista to call your name. It was then that out of the corner of your eye, you see that in walks a handsome, blonde stranger. Your heart skips a beat for only a second before it registers that he’s not your blonde stranger. He locks eyes with you for only a second and you offer him a small, disappointed smile. 

“Your mocha,” the barista says and holds out the warm beverage to you. 

“Thanks,” you reply, your voice despondent. 

When you turn for the exit, your eyes are drawn to the corner of the room- to a comfortable, brown leather chair next to the window. There, sits Aegon, the man who had somehow just happened to be here, every single day, at the same time as you. The man who is probably stalking you, and if he wasn’t, he probably thought you were stalking him. You couldn’t even blame it on timing– Monday you were late, Tuesday you were early, today you were right on time. Given outside factors, things like this typically do not happen. 

He’s reading the paper and there’s a cup of coffee and a half-eaten scone sitting on a plate in front of him. Your lips curl into a smile as you say to him, “we’ve got to stop running into each other like this.” 

Aegon looks up at you, surprise washing over his face before an enthusiastic smile begins growing on his lips. However, as soon as his eyes notice the drink in your hand, his smile immediately disappears, “I thought I was buying today?” 

“I didn’t see you until I had already ordered,” you replied. “How about tomorrow?”

“Deal,” he nodded..

“Are you sure you’re not stalking me?” You asked, eyes narrowing.

He threw his head back in laughter, “I’m definitely not a stalker.”

“That’s what a stalker would say,” you glanced down at your watch and realized that you should get going before you miss the bus. “See you tomorrow!”

On Thursday, you were convinced.

You had spent most of the day yesterday discussing with your coworker about what had been happening to you over the last week. You’d walked through every different day and what had happened prior to you arriving at Starbucks. You had talked conspiracy theories and the invisible string theory, and eventually you both ended up coming to the same conclusion– you both agreed that it was best for you to not go to Starbucks today.

You didn’t believe in fate, or soulmates, or twin flames, but as you stood in front of your Keurig as it made the most god awful sound, you were starting to change your mind. You tried turning it off and back on, unplugging it and plugging it back in, but the diagnosis was that it had finally died.

After six wonderful years and all of college.

Any other day you’d stop at Starbucks and grab a coffee in place of your homemade cup, but you swore that you wouldn’t today, and you were not waiting in line at the one on the way to the bus stop. It didn’t help that you were actually looking forward to the nasty breakroom coffee, only to get to work and realize that the office had run out of coffee. The effects of the caffeine withdrawal had set in by lunchtime and your migraine was splitting. Needless to say, you were irritable and exhausted by the time you had clocked out. Everything seemed to be grinding your nerves; even something as simple as the person sitting next to you on the bus talking on their phone. 

Despite promising yourself that you wouldn’t go to Starbucks today, you found yourself standing at the counter, ordering a latte and a sandwich. It was later in the evening, the sun was setting, and you were certain that you would not be running into Aegon at this time of night and so after you grabbed your coffee, you sat in one of the comfy, leather chairs and started replying to some emails.

You had been there for about an hour, most of the patrons had left. The baristas had begun cleaning up for the evening and the shop was getting ready to close when the door swung open, letting in a gusty breeze.

“No way,” you whispered to yourself as you watched a very tired-looking Aegon walk up to the counter and order a latte. He was so out of it that he didn’t even notice you until he sat down in the chair directly across from yours, and looked up to see you staring right at him. 

“I told you,” he said as he let out a tired laugh.

You just shook your head at him in disbelief.

“I was called into work early today and I couldn’t come in this morning,” he said with a smirk. “I was certain I wouldn’t be seeing you today.”

“My Keurig broke, and when I got to work they didn’t have any coffee, so I figured I’d stop in and grab a cup before heading home,” you replied.

You sat there and talked to him until the manager kicked the two of you out, and he ended up walking you to your apartment, even though it was in the opposite direction of where he was going. He was sweet and funny, and you found yourself laughing at almost every joke. 

“So tomorrow?” You asked when you stopped in front of your building.

“How about dinner instead of coffee?” He asked, rather boldly, taking you by surprise. “I know we don’t really know each other but I’d like to change that.”

“I’d like that, too,” you smiled, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Wanna chance it and see if we show up at the same restaurant at the same time?”

“The ultimate test of fate, eh?” He asked, rubbing his chin as he mulled over your offer for a moment. “Can’t risk it, how about you just meet me at Ray’s at seven.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” you exhale a soft laugh.

“Perfect,” he says and takes your hand, offering a tender kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll see you then, love.”

Friday was perfect. 

Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary happened. Though, thinking back on it now, maybe those seemingly bizarre incidents this past week weren’t actually out of the ordinary at all. Maybe the forgotten coffee on Monday, the spilled latte on Tuesday, the late delivery on Wednesday, and caffeine withdrawal on Thursday were all meant to happen; everything playing out perfectly in order for you to be walking up to Ray’s at exactly 6:54 PM. 

Aegon stood outside, a smile bright enough to put the sun to shame. As your eyes met, a wave of warmth washed over you, dispelling any lingering doubts you may have had. This felt right. 

This felt like fate.

[papergirllife]

Johnny Suh

(aged up) Alpha Johnny x Omega Reader

Synopsis:

Falling for an older man is still considered acceptable in today’s society, but falling for someone who’s taken, by your own mother even, is never the cliche stories you commonly hear. You thought your little crush for your mother’s fiance was going to go away naturally, that they’ll get married and break your heart to pieces and you’d be able to move on, what you hadn’t expected was for them to break up and it was partially your fault. And when he moved away, you’d thought you'd never see him again, but your job brings you back to that sweet cinnamon scented alpha once again.

warnings: aboverse, daddy kink, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, heats, ruts, knotting, minor angst, the mother in this story is a narcissist, absent father, fainting (briefly).

DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ, JUST SCROLL, HATE COMMENTS AND ASKS WOULD BE DELETED AND BLOCKED.

wordcount: 11.4k

a/n: so i’m back, but not entirely, mental health is still bad, but um, really wanted to write this, so if this flops i’ll be deleting this and rewriting the story to fit someone else lol, okay, bye, enjoy the story. and this is based on the song cinnamon girl by lana del rey.

Growing up, there’s one thing about your life that has been a constant and that is uncertainty, all your life, instead of having a pair of parents that diligently try their best to pave a smooth road for your life ahead like most parents, they had chose to lay out eggshells instead, their behaviour had manifested a constant spike in your heartbeat whenever you make a mistake in life, similarly to the feeling of prickling your bare feet by accidentally stepping onto a cracked eggshell on the floor, that’s how you’ve always felt ever since you were a child, every step you take, a pinch here and there that’s bound to push you over the edge one day, and that day came sooner and far more unexpected than a thunderstorm.

That thunderstorm had costed your mother’s marriage, and she never fails to remind you, how your attempt of ending your life had driven your bipolar father to the brink of his sanity, blaming your mother for her inadequacy of being a parent while he excused himself so easily just because he has ‘longer hours’ in the office.

Your father didn’t even try to fight for parental rights, he merely signed you away to your miserable mother, and that broke something inside her.

She begins taking more care in her appearance and goes out of her way to meet new people, particularly alpha men, she was particular with traditional first gender stereotypes, it didn’t really bother you, the rancid scent of some alphas could be avoided as long as you were in your room. 

Since you were growing into late teen hood, she only gives you the necessities, basic interactions, things weren’t getting better, but they weren’t getting worse, to you, that’s considered a win.

Things were looking bleak until your mom engaged an alpha with honey in his eyes.

Johnny Suh, a young man your mother had picked up from one of the many parties she had attended on behalf of work, a client of her company apparently, he lasted the longest compared to all the others, you thought he’d stay forever and become an addition to your broken family, until another storm brews right in front of your eyes. 

That day you had been sick, your mother had to rush back from a date to take you to the clinic, Johnny, being the gentleman he is, accompanies her with you, you still remember that day as clear as crystal. 

The nurse had complimented how pretty you were, and that you take after your mother, to which she was delighted of course, gushing that she gave you all the good genes, no one but this nurse thinks the two of you look alike, you have always shared more similarities with your asshole father, not enough to make you feel sickening to look in the mirror, but just enough to remind you that you’d always be associated to that asshole.

After a thorough consultation, the doctor says that you had a bad reaction to the new heat suppressants your mother had switched to for a lower price. 

“You better not fail your next driving test the next time around, or else you wouldn’t be able to get yourself to the clinic for heaven’s sake, and why are you always so sensitive to medicine? Can’t you be normal for once? Why do you have to be a freak?” your mother rambled all the way to Johnny’s car.

You had kept your silence, you weren’t feeling well anyways, you don’t have any energy left to argue with her, but instead, someone speaks up for you.

“Hey, why are you so harsh on her?” Johnny asks, at first he dismissed your mother’s odd alter ego towards you as a culture difference, since his own parents have migrated to the states so many years, he had always been told parents elsewhere are harsher towards their kids, but this feels like a personal insult towards you, and he might be 10 years younger than your mother, but not to the point of having such different views on how to children should be treated.

“She’s always been such a handful, all my friends’ daughters are so much more mature than her, they help clean the house, cook, always have good grades, not a burden like you are!” your mother emphasises on the last part by craning her neck to look at you with her hideous eyes, she’s not ugly at all, maybe average if you’re being mean, but she is horrid in your eyes, which is why you never understood why Johnny, a successful man at the ripe age of 28 would ever settle for a single mother omega with the worst mood swings ever.

“Why are you speaking to your daughter like this? She’s your own flesh and blood, you never told me there was such a huge riff between the two of you,” Johnny says, exasperated, oh there’s so much he doesn’t know, this is merely the surface.

She mumbles something under her breath that you didn’t quite catch, not that you bother to listen, you just want to lock yourself up in the safety of your room.

After a week from that day, your mother comes home with a slam of the door as tears stream down her face.

“This is all your fault!” she screams with a weak shove of your shoulder before she, surprisingly, retreats to her room. Later you find out why, because of the absence of the 6 foot tall handsome man who hasn’t dropped by for dinner for days now.

You thought you’d never see him again until you see his car waiting for you one day after you finish your college entrance examination.

“Johnny?” you call out, the handsome man has grown out his hair now, a beautiful lock falls right above his right brow, giving him an even more mature look, you’d always thought he was baby faced for a 28 year old man, but now he finally looks his age, guess this what people call a ‘break up glow up’.

“Hey, just thought I’d drop by to say congratulations, and maybe buy you a meal, you must’ve worked really hard these past few months,” Johnny offers, and who are you to reject him when you’re sick of having the same food your mom cooks. 

“Did you get back with my mother?” you ask when you settle down in a fancy restaurant, your uniform looks cheap against the pretty red velvet walls, you note, even the waiters had judged when you walked in.

“Is your mother here?” Johnny asks, looking up from the menu, seemingly having decided what he’s having because he’s flagging down a waiter.

Johnny orders for the both of you, you had only mentioned that you’ll probably try the pasta you want once, and he never asked you to repeat yourself nor asked you to state your order to the waiter yourself, but he waits to see if he got it right, or if you’d like to order more, to which you quickly shook your head no, scared that he just might order more. Now you know why your mother was so heartbroken, you’d cry if you lose an alpha this attentive too.

You always had an odd sense of comfort when Johnny’s around, his scent was never overbearing, he has never once bossed you or your mother around just because he’s an alpha, he has been so respectful towards you, unlike some of the creepy alphas your mother brought back.

Just being in his presence again simmers down your post exam anxiety and general anxiety, you didn’t know Johnny's departure had such an impact on you until seeing him again today, it’s like your omega feels at home again.

The two of you talked with a newfound freedom, away from your mother’s watchful eyes. She never likes it when her boyfriends give you more attention, she’s always seen you as her competition.

Johnny asks about your ideas on how your future might look while he updates you on how he took the leap to establish his own company with the support of his best friends that you heard him speak about to your mother.

But everything good comes to an end, and yours come in the form of your lunch with Johnny ending, but the big blow is what he tells you right after reaching your neighbourhood.

“My new office is in Seoul, I’ll be moving tomorrow,” Johnny suddenly confesses.

“What? You’re leaving? Again?” you ask, a lump building in your throat.

Johnny winces at the wording, he thinks you know the relationship was toxic, how he lets your mother have her way in everything, but you’re just 18, a young girl who’s hurt time after time.

“I’m sorry, this company…has been my dream, and your mother and I, we’d never get back together, I don’t think we were ever compatible, I only stayed because…, nevermind, here, this is for you,” Johnny says, opening the glove box in front of you, passing you a little cardholder wallet.

“My business card is there, it has my office address as well as  my number, personal and office, there’s also some gift cards there, Jo Malone, Sephora, I know you love perfumes and make up, get yourself something nice, a small gift from me,” Johnny says.

You don’t know when you started tearing up, but you felt Johnny use the expensive material of his sleeve to wipe away your salty tears.

“It’s going to be okay, just one more year, and you’d be able to move away from your mother, one more year and you won’t be binded to her legally anymore,” Johnny reassures, but that’s not what you’re sad for, you’re sad that Johnny’s leaving again, and so far away from Busan too, there’s no way you’d be able to leave the state without your mother knowing.

“Does that mean I could come find you in a year’s time?” you sputter out, the words taste bitter on your tongue.

Johnny freezes in his spot, the feeling of being on the borderline, he’s an adult, and an alpha more so, it’s not appropriate for an omega this young to be staying with him, yes you’re legal in terms of age, but it feels wrong still, but Johnny looks at you, he really looks at you this time, and he realises how you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, even with tear streaks and a sour pear scent that makes him miss the soft sweet scent of pears in spring, he still thinks you’re absolutely ethereal in every way.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a year’s time if you don’t change your mind,” Johnny says as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, he can’t have your pretty locks soaked in your own tears, seeing you cry and being the reason of your sadness already has his alpha howling in protest.

“Really?” you ask him once more, thinking you heard him wrongly, that your delusional mind had made things up for you.

“Yes, I promise.”

There’s so many things you want to say to him, but it’s better to keep it to yourself, you’ll just hurt yourself if you don’t.

So many things have changed since that fateful day, you no longer stay with your mother, instead, you’re staying with your rich best friend who has an apartment all to herself after her ex moved out.

You barely talk to your mother these days, merely giving an update or two for her every few weeks, at first she was ballistic when you said you were going to move out, but when you told her that Hyuna wasn’t charging you rent, she was ecstatic to help you move out of her humble abode. 

You haven’t thought of looking for Johnny until you realise the modelling agency you’re working for expanded, and so now they’re planning on taking on bigger jobs by moving their HQ to Seoul, which means you need to pack up and find a place in a city you barely know.

“Still looking for somewhere to stay?” Hyuna asks, bringing over a mug of wine for you, she’s always been a day drinker, a habit she’s passed on to you.

“Yup,” you say after taking a sip, just what you needed, “thanks for this, it’ll be perfect for my nap when it hits,” you joke truthfully.

“You’re still having issues sleeping?” Hyuna asks, her brows furrowed in worry.

“It’s been a long time now, don’t act all surprised, it’s not going to go away,” you say, deciding to shut your laptop after bookmarking a few places, still a bit over budget, but maybe if you took on more jobs, you’d be able to make ends meet, and maybe no more indulging yourself in expensive food and groceries like you do now, hopefully you’d still have enough for the heating when days get colder.

“The cinnamon candles don’t work?” Hyuna asks, looking at the direction of your room, probably trying to catch a whiff of how strong the scent is.

“It helps, but it takes me forever to fall asleep, but at least I can sleep,” you say, recalling the gruelling times when you couldn’t sleep at all.

“If it’s this bad, it means what you had for him is more than a mere crush-

“He didn’t even say anything, it’s just me, Hyuna, stop giving me false hope, he only cared for me out of pity, we wouldn’t even have met if it wasn’t for my mom,” you defend yourself, it’s true, if he felt the same, he’d speak up, maybe called you or something, your mother probably gave him your number before, Johnny’s a straightforward man.

“Maybe he wasn’t sure of how he feels, how do you know he’s not suffering just like you are if you’re not willing to even give him a call, maybe you could stay with him for a few months before you secure your own place, just to confirm if what you’re feeling is truly just a fickle crush, please,” Hyuna pleads.

“I’ll think about it after my nap,” you say dismissively, leaving your bestie in the living room, she’s going to miss your stubborn ass when you’re gone, but you’ll probably be in better hands if you’re nearer to Johnny.

You don’t know how’d you get here, at Johnny’s doorstep of his big ass house in Gangnam, standing in between two expensive cars.

You had taken up Hyuna’s advice to contact your ‘almost stepfather’. 

When you called him, he was surprised to say the least, he hadn't heard from you for three years, he thought you had moved on in life, leaving him as merely a closed chapter.

The phone call had been brief, just a quick congratulations and brief updates before Johnny had to dash off to attend a meeting.

Needless to say, Johnny has been excited for your arrival, he hasn’t stopped wondering how you were since the day he left Busan, he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s missed caring for you while he was with your mother, but ever since that day, he’s had this emptiness in his chest, and just by knowing he’s seeing you soon has relieved this sense of emptiness that was once a hole in his chest.

You finally plucked up the courage to ring the doorbell, quickly stepping aside when you caught whiff of the familiar scent of cinnamon. 

Before you know it, you’re being greeted by the familiar alpha, he’s buffed up since the last time you’ve seen, time isn’t an issue for Johnny when he ages like fine wine.

“Hey, come on in,” Johnny says after getting over the initial shock of how much you’ve grown, instead of the little girl that her mother picks fights with, now the little girl standing before him has grown into a beautiful young lady.

Johnny has a new problem now that the emptiness is gone, and it comes in the form of that emptiness being overfilled.

Your scent, it’s different from how he remembered it to be, yes it’s still has the major notes of pear, but he remembers picking it up notes of your mother’s rose scent, which isn’t surprising since sometimes a mother’s scent lingers onto their children, especially if they’re both omegas, but now that you haven’t lived with your mother for so long, he realised that the scent lingered due to proximity, not biology, and it has him reeling.

He thought his desire to care for you is due to the fact that he once had love for your mother, but now that he’s living with you, he realises that the scent of ripe pears was also lingering on your mother just as her scent lingered on you, and now he’s questioning whether he was initially attracted to your mother because of her own scent or the soft but empowering scent of pears.

“Johnny?” 

“Yes?” Fuck, he should stop having these stupid questions filling his mind, he isn’t attracted to you, maybe he should get laid soon, maybe it’s purely an instinct thing.

“I was asking you if you could turn up the heating a bit? My body isn’t as warm as an alpha’s” you remind him, but just then a sweater on the sofa catches your attention, “Oh wait, I could just borrow this, you don’t mind right? If not I’ll head up to unpack,” you say, to which Johnny nods, he forgot to even ask you if you wanted to eat anything after your long journey.

The sight of you drowning in his clothes, god, you’re going to be the death of him.

A few days later, after having gotten used to your new living environment, and adjusted to your newfound proper sleeping schedule, to Hyuna’s happiness and her constant ‘I told you sos’, you decided to cook Johnny dinner as the many forms of 'thank yous’ you’ll be giving him.

You decided to cook him a simple pasta to start off, deciding to make your own pesto sauce from scratch, which is why the two of you are spending your Sunday morning at a supermarket, browsing through the many aisles after deciding to splurge on a block of aged parmesan cheese.

You walk towards a pile of fresh basil, but frown when you see the ‘organic’ tag, these are always unnecessarily expensive, so you put the pack of basil down even though the organic ones look a lot fresher.

“Why are you putting them down? They’re a lot fresher than the brand you’re looking at now,” Johnny says before picking up the basil you had discarded.

“Oh, just thought those were a bit too pricey,” you say offhandedly. 

“I’m paying, no worries, you don’t have to fret over these miniscule things when you’re with me,” Johnny says with a comforting pat on your head, god, if only he knows what those words do to you, you think to yourself before willing your emotions to be stable, he can’t pick up the spike in your scent, or he’d think you’re a freak.

“But I’m buying today, remember?” you say reminding Johnny of your promise of thanking him for his generosity of letting you stay in his home.

“You said you’d cook as a form of thank you, not buying the groceries and cook,” Johnny says before he places the pack of basil in the cart, “you don’t have to worry about price tags when you’re with me,” Johnny promises before walking ahead, looking back to see you following him with a huff, not used to walking about with someone with such long legs.

“Johnny? Where’s the blender you used this morning for your breakfast shake?” you ask, looking around the expanse of his large kitchen.

“It’s in the third upper shelf from the left,” he says from the couch, apparently he’s checking his emails despite saying he ended work at 6 not too long ago.

You shout out a quick thank you before you follow his directions, opening the cabinet door, you’re quick to recognise the device, standing on your tippy toes to retrieve the blender, you’re surprised by how heavy it is, and when you felt a slight wobble, you suddenly felt a warmth body pressed up behind you as sturdy hands came up to hold onto the blender supporting your smaller hand.

“Careful, this thing’s heavy at the top too, I don’t know why the cover’s so thick,” Johnny jokes as he pulls away with the blender in hand, immediately setting it up for you to use.

“Thanks, Johnny,” you say, glad that he was there, or you’d be cleaning up broken glass now.

“No problem, let me know if you need anything else from the upper cabinets,” Johnny says, smiling as he ruffles your hair before walking away to let you cook, leaving you with butterflies in your tummy.

“Does it taste good?” you ask after tasting a forkful of pesto pasta, you think it’s okay, maybe a little over for the cheese, but Johnny loves cheese, so you purposely incorporated more cheese.

“Tastes great, you’re really good at this, where did you learn all this from?” Johnny asks with a surprised but satisfied smile on his face, he knows you didn’t learn this from your mother, she was a more eastern food type of person.

“Just picked it up from Youtube shorts, those pasta videos are all over my explore page,” you explain with a bashful smile as you try to keep your emotions in check, you’ll die from embarrassment if he picks up your scent getting sweeter.

“Just from a quick short clip? What a smart girl you are,” Johnny compliments, he couldn’t help it, your mother had always complained about you being dumb and clumsy, always never getting top grades, but here you are, learning a quick recipe from a 30 second clip.

Your breath gets caught at the compliment, fuck, your scent definitely changed, you can feel the fuzzy feeling in your tummy again.

“It’s nothing complicated, really, it’s just a simple recipe, it’s no biggie,” you deflect, not used to being complimented this way.

“No, none of that down playing shit, take the compliment as it is, you watched a short clip of a recipe and you recreated it, that’s an achievement,” Johnny says firmly, but with no ill intent, he genuinely doesn’t want you to put yourself down anymore, he knows your mother had conditioned you to look at yourself in a shitty manner, but he’s going to change that.

You nod, mumbling another quick thank you before you go back to eating, feeling the heat behind your ears still.

Johnny isn’t dumb, he picked up on your spike in scent, and the way you look at him, he just wants to stare back into those pretty eyes of yours when he feels them trained on him.

At first it was tolerable, but as the days go by and the weather gets warmer, he sees you walking the house in nothing but shorts and a tee, and he swears you’re not wearing a bra underneath if he looks a bit longer.

Johnny is now out for a long awaited boys’ night with Yuta and Mark at Yuta’s bachelor pad. 

“I thought the biggest concern would be that you can’t bring back hot omegas to your place, but you actually have a hot omega in your house, and you’re not going to do anything?” Yuta asked in disbelief.

Fuck, Johnny shouldn’t have shown them your socials, now they’re spewing bullshit instead of helping him.

“Dude, that’s his step daughter, it feels so weird,” Mark says with a huge side eye towards Yuta, which was rather common, since Yuta is the alpha of every omega’s nightmare, unless they’re into freaky shit that is.

“Thank you, Mark, finally someone who sees the logic in this situation,” Johnny said, his tone convincing, but not convincing enough to forget about the way your shorts fit around your bubble butt.

“Johnny didn’t even marry that bitch, and I know you’re a beta, Mark, but can’t you pick up how sweet she is just from Johnny’s clothes, look, man, if you’re not gonna make a move to tap that, I’ll gladly-

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Johnny said with a growl.

Yuta holds his hands up defensively, a smug expression on his face.

“No matter how much you lie to yourself, your alpha wants her, and recognises the connection the two of you share, you can't run away from that, and it's not like you can kick her out now that you offered to let her stay long term," Yuta deduced with a tilt of his head, daring Johnny to come up with a logical retort.

But the tallest amongst them goes quiet, mulling over his choices.

"Even if it's not Yuta hyung, some other alpha's going to be interested in her some day, hyung," Mark reminds Johnny, "and would you be able to stand aside and let someone love her instead of you?" 

Johnny's never thought of it that way, in some twisted way, he had always thought you were his little girl, too young to be courted by alphas, but in reality, you're a grown woman now, even if he thinks he's too old for you, other alphas his age aren't going to think that, maybe not even you, you probably see Johnny less of a father figure than what he assumed.

"He's finally using that brain of his," Yuta says on the side to Mark, the two conversing among themselves while they let their friend gather his thoughts.

"How about this," Mark suddenly speaks up, "you could spend some time away from her to clear your mind, if you really miss her during your time away from each other…then you have your answer, dude," Mark suggests, looking at Yuta for affirmation.

"I mean that could work," Yuta says uncertainly, it probably is going to work, although with added risks that he won't be mentioning, he doesn't need Johnny's angry side out with a few drinks in. 

"What am I going to say? Where am I going to stay?" Johnny asks, still doubting that this is a good idea, would you be fine with staying all by yourself? You haven't done that before, he thinks, but on the other hand, your mother was very much an absent parent.

"You could crash at my place, man, what could go wrong? I'll clean up the guest room for you and it'll be just like home," Mark suggests, immediately going to his phone to make a list of things to buy, like toilet paper and booze, he misses having sleepovers with his bro, and this is the perfect opportunity to make up for loss time.

"I'm leaving for a month for a business trip," Johnny tells you in the midst of having dinner together at this Japanese restaurant you had suggested, the fresh prawn tempura doesn't taste as nice anymore, now that he's bringing this up. 

"Oh, that's abrupt, where to?" you ask, hoping you don't look visibly upset, but Johnny could tell from your crestfallen eyes, he could feel his own alpha struggling to take over and comfort you, yeah, he really needs time away from you if his alpha is acting this way.

"Back to Busan, my business partners are debating on opening a headquarters there, just to make things easier on the management and shipping side of things," Johnny lies, he already has a HQ in Busan, but he doesn't oversee it, god forbid he runs into your mother after everything.

"Oh, okay, do you need me to do anything with the house while you're gone other than watering the plants?" you ask, taking a sip of your green tea to swallow down your nerves, what if he sees her again?

"No, just be there to look over the weekly maids and everything would be fine," Johnny says with a sense of finality, for him, not you, because after telling you, there's no backing out, he's going to go through this like the man he is.

Everything was fine until it wasn't, and it started off with an ache in his head, it wasn't extremely painful, but it was consistent enough for him to down an advil every 12 hours.

He'd been drowning himself in work and the gym and brushed it off as a sign of fatigue, but when the headache shows no sign of fading even on a long weekend, he starts to worry, and then Mark drops another bomb on him. 

"Dude, you’re starting to smell different, is your rut starting soon?" 

Johnny freezes up from his position on the couch, the morning news talking about some light earthquake that happened last night, usually he'd be very focused on news like this, but his mind is now blank.

"Dude you alright? That headache you keep talking about, it's probably your rut-

"But it can't be, my rut isn't due for another 2 months," Johnny says in disbelief, quickly checking his calendar, just to double check.

"I don't know, man, but that's how you smelled like when you start your pre rut symptoms, maybe go check it out at the doctor's?" Mark suggests, stealing the bag of chips Johnny opened on the coffee table, happily munching away while his friend quickly books a doctor's appointment.

It's probably nothing, Johnny assures himself, he's been eating well, resting well, it's probably just a flu or something, he brushes off.

"Mr Suh, I fear that there are a few questions I need to ask you in regards to your condition," Doctor Park asks, his face a bit grim, if Johnny's getting some death disease then he's booking a flight to see the aurora lights, stat, there's no way he's going down without doing all the wild shit on his bucket list.

"Am I dying, doc?" Johnny asks, preparing himself for the worst, maybe stage 4 cancer, maybe some incurable shit that's passed down from the family that miraculously skipped his grandparents and parents.

"No, Mr Suh, I'm afraid you had unknowingly imprinted on someone, which is why I'm going to ask you now, are you seeing someone at the moment?" Doctor Park asks.

"No, not at all," Johnny replies, a half truth, since you're on his mind all the time.

"Then are you perhaps interested in someone? And you see that someone quite often?" the doctor asks, sceptical that an alpha this attractive is single, he could hear the nurses gushing about his patient when he walked in, even if he was blind he'd know this young man is considered attractive.

"Well, there is someone I'm somewhat attracted to, but I don't think to the point where I'd unknowingly imprint on them? And what does this have to do with my upcoming rut?" Johnny asks, still in denial that he actually imprinted on you, maybe the doctor just misdiagnosed him. 

"Based on the information you've given me, you're having constant headaches, no appetite, and an upcoming early rut? Those are all symptoms of mate withdrawal, or in your case, potential mate withdrawal," Doctor Park says with a slight judgement in his voice.

"Is this…permanent?" Johnny asks, he's never been scared of things, but right now, he feels like he's a kid on a roller coaster again.

"There's a procedure to remove the imprint, however it'll be very painful, and I suggest you quickly check on the person you imprinted on, they might be having these symptoms as well, however usually the one that imprints feels it first, so you still have some time to figure things out, now excuse me while I go sort of your medication," the doctor says before leaving Johnny in the room alone.

Johnny quickly makes a quick search on where to get imprint removal in the country, just in case, and he curses when he sees the many warnings and symptoms of the removal treatment.

Doctor Park comes back in with a bag of medication, he pulls them out one by one.

"The violet pills are to numb the imprint in general, blue for your headaches, twice a day, green for your appetite loss, and red is to defer your rut if you wish to do so, however I don't suggest you taking too many of these as it worsens the effects of your actual rut when the medication can no longer withstand your rut hormones, take all of these after meals, and get sufficient rest, and please think this through as soon as possible," Doctor Park says before dismissing him for his next patient.

"So… what did the doctor say, man, you don't look too happy, but at least you look like you got more life in your face now," Mark says, gesturing at Johnny's face that is now less pale than when he left this morning.

"Yeah, I took some medicine, that's why, and I also found out that I imprinted on her," Johnny spilled, which earned the biggest and fruitiest gasps that he only hears from his beta friend.

"I'm sorry? Imprinted? Like for real dude? How did that happen?" Mark was in shock, but he was also curious, he's heard of imprints, but they rarely happen, especially with the dating culture nowadays.

"Not sure, the only good news is that I'm the one that imprinted on her, so I still have some time to think this through," Johnny says, just a heads up to Mark that he won't be rushing to pack his bags and move out of his home.

"Wouldn't she be affected also? And, what's there to think through? You wanna get it removed? That shit stings like a bitch from what I heard, even if you're willing to remove the imprint, there's no telling she would, and what if she falls sick while you're here-

"Stop, I just need a few more days, then I'll be out of your hair," Johnny says dismissively, heading back to his room for some peace of mind.

"Should we update Yuta on this?" 

"Suit yourself, I won't change my mind regardless," Johnny says before shutting his door, ready for a long night's sleep.

Johnny knows you're fine, he's been staying up to date with you by asking you to water his plants everyday, today he even went as far as asking about your personal health, and true to the doctor's words, you haven't been feeling any withdrawal symptoms yet, and because of this, Johnny’s glad he bit the bullet and went for the check up early.

Anxious, that's what Johnny felt the last few days, the dismissive front he had masked on days ago now crumbling as he tossed and turned in his bed.

Johnny had felt tired after work today, which was odd, because he had purposely made himself a coffee before he left work to go to his scheduled workout at the gym, however, he had felt drained once he left the parking bay, which is why he ate a quick dinner of cup noodles and slept.

He had slept peacefully the first two hours, but after he woke up to go to the bathroom, sleep just couldn't seem to come back to him. 

The sleep leaves Johnny as the prickling in his head grows, but he's taken his pills, why is he still reacting to the withdrawal symptoms?

Then he feels it, that sinking feeling in his stomach, he immediately hops out of bed, grabbing his wallet and car keys before dashing out of the door, a confused Mark who was watching a basketball game jolts at the harsh opening of his bedroom door.

"What's the problem, man? It's midnight, where are you going?" Mark asks, but nonetheless, he turns off the telly, following behind Johnny, he's never seen Johnny this anxious, he's not gonna leave him be at a time like this.

"I think something happened at home, but I don't know what, I need to check up on her," Johnny replies as he frantically watches the panel counting down to the car park levels.

"I'll go with you, it's late and if you need help, I'll be there," Mark offers, not questioning how true Johnny's hunch is.

It was quiet when he stepped into his home, but that wasn't out of the ordinary for you, you're not the type to stay up watching TV, but the weird thing is that there wasn't a single light on in the living area, you'd always leave a light on at night. 

Then Johnny noticed how faint your scent was, you didn't tell him you'd be staying anywhere else tonight, but it smells like you haven't been here for half a day at least.

Johnny quickly traces your scent to your room, he opens the door, and the sight of you lying on the desk with your head down sends a chill down his spine, yes you might have fallen asleep, but you've told him multiple times that you can only sleep on a bed.

So he tries to shake you awake, but to no avail.

Mark was calling the ambulance before Johnny even asked him to, an unconscious omega is nothing to joke about.

Then everything was a blur, Mark drove Johnny's car while he sat in the ambulance with you, holding onto your hand as the medics asked him basic questions.

Johnny met up with Mark in the emergency area where he was ushered beyond the curtains due to your privacy.

"What did the doctor say?" 

"Her life isn't in any danger, but they need to run more tests to confirm that it is imprint withdrawal symptoms," Johnny says, still focused on where you were wheeled in.

Then the doctor comes out, a stoic expression on his face.

"As you had predicted, Mr Suh, she is indeed going through withdrawal symptoms, so she's going to be hooked onto some drips and be given some medicine, nothing to worry about, however, please step up as a mate and actually be there for her," the doctor says with a slight edge to his tone.

"Yes, doctor," Johnny said, scratching the back of his head, embarrassed that as a man in his thirties is still struggling with professing his feelings.

Johnny watches your pale face, he did this, he’s to blame.

“Mr Suh, I’m sorry, but visiting hours are going to end soon,” the doctor informs.

“I wish to stay overnight to look after her,” Johnny says, as he texts Mark to find your essentials, thick sweaters and sweatpants, any skincare you have laying around.

“My apologies, Mr Suh, but you’re only eligible to sleepover if you book the VIP room where a proper bed is prepared for you, it’s company policy,” of course they got this greedy policy.

“Just charge it on my tab, get her the VIP room, immediately,” Johnny says, standing up from the chair he’d thought he’d be hunched over sleeping in.

“Gladly, Mr Suh, Nurse Park, please add Mr Suh into the overnight list and fetch your team to have the patient shifted.”

Johnny sighs as he follows you, keeping a keen eye when the team of nurses wheel you to your new room.

Marks drop by your things and he gets to work, cleaning your face with a towel and using the products that he recognises its uses of, he’s not a pro, but he does have a skincare routine himself too. Then, he tucks you in bed, pulling the blanket as high as your chin, knowing that you get cold easily.

Then Johnny slips off into slumber on the bed next to yours, fatigue consuming him after the stressful hour he had, but most importantly, sleep came to him because you’re finally in his presence again.

The first thing that you saw was how obnoxiously white the ceiling was, you’re quite fucking sure you had told Johnny to help you colour the ceiling black ages ago when you first moved in, wait, what happened to the silk sheets Johnny had splurged on you? Why are the sheets so rough against your skin?

You jolted up when you felt the tug of something connected to your arm, your eyes going as wide as saucers when you see that you’re currently in a hospital room, at first you thought you were kidnapped for your organs or whatever, until your nose picked up on the familiar sweet scent of cinnamon, you averted your gaze to the bed beside yours, seeing the view of Johnny’s back. 

You carefully walked to him, cursing silently at the IV drip attached to you.

“Johnny,” you called to him, shaking him slightly, his contracting muscles at his shoulders alerting you that he’s waking up.

“Sweetheart? Why are you up? Let me get the doctor,” Johnny says urgently, scrambling up from bed.

“Wait, Johnny, why am I in the hospital? How did I end up here?” you ask, seeking answers in those panic stricken honey brown eyes that usually exude confidence. 

“I…,” Johnny looks so lost at words at that moment, his entire confident businessman front is nowhere to be seen, he shakes his head, seemingly trying to get his composure together.

“It’s okay, you can take your time,” you reassure, sitting down beside him on the squeaky bed, an encouraging smile on your lips.

“I imprinted on you and didn’t know what to do, so I lied about going on a business trip to sort out my thoughts, I didn’t know you’d be affected by the withdrawal symptoms so quickly, I shouldn’t have trusted the doctor’s prediction, I should’ve consulted you, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I put your life in danger even though I promised you I’d do anything to protect you,” Johnny confesses, his shoulders sagging after he’s spilled the entire story, his chest heaving as he struggles not to let his tears fall, he had put you in danger, he doesn’t deserve to be your alpha, he should’ve signed up for the imprint removal as soon as possible back then.

“Hey, Johnny, it’s alright, we all need time to think things through, I’m alive, I might’ve done the same in your footsteps, so don’t beat yourself over it,” you say, mind drifting to all the times you had felt very tired or had zero appetite for no particular reason, glad that you finally found the source of all your problems, all because of this cute alpha in front of you whose scent is so sour, 

“If it makes you feel any better, I had the ulterior motive of wanting us to become something more too, when you were away, I thought you’d left me alone for good, so please don't even think about removing our imprint, please,” you plead, you sound a bit pathetic, if you’re honest,  begging for a man to stay, but you don’t want his heart constantly out the door while his body hangs around, you went through that with your mother, you don’t want to go through that with Johnny as well, and you think Johnny understands what you mean too, because he releases calming pheromones, pulling you into his embrace.

“I’m not going anywhere you don’t want me to be, sweetheart, never,” Johnny promises you. 

You bury yourself impossibly closer, but a crackling sound in his pocket pulls you out of your moment with Johnny.

“What’s that?” you ask, looking at Johnny for answers, watching him dig through his pocket, a packet of medicine is brought out. 

“I had to take them while I was away from you, to deal with the side effects of imprint withdrawal from you,” Johnny explains.

“You won’t be needing them anymore then,” you say, ready to go home with your alpha.

Your relationship with Johnny has progressed smoothly, albeit rather slow, what you appreciate though, is that Johnny is a traditional man, going through the process of courting you, buying you flowers whenever he needs to leave for the office, cooking you food, buying you gifts once in a while, from simple things like a box of macarons to expensive jewellery.

What you didn’t expect was to find another package of medicine, when you decided to put his coat into the dryer, a packet of red pills that you recognised from a month ago.

“Johnny!” you called out to the alpha sitting on the couch, the evening news on.

“Why are you still taking these?” you ask, holding up the packet of visible red pills in your hand.

Conflict draws upon Johnny’s face, a frown between the creases of his brows.

“I didn’t want to let you know, but my rut is coming soon, so I’ve been delaying it as long as I can, I didn’t know if you’d like to, or if you’re ready for it, I’m actually prepared to spend it alone, I just didn’t know how to tell you-

“I’d love to spend your rut with you, so you won’t be needing these anymore,” you say, dumping the pills into a nearby trash bin,

“No! Wait-

“Taking suppressants are bad for you, Johnny-

“But you might not be ready, have you ever spent a rut with an alpha?” Johnny asks, but his wolf side is gnawing at his chest at the thought of its omega being with another alpha.

“I haven’t, but my heat is approaching too, and I don’t wish to spend it locked in my room anymore,” you cringe thinking about how your mother had warned you when you first presented that you should never ever sleep with anyone until you’re legally binded to one another, and that you should just suffer through your heats like a ‘righteous’ omega.

“Your heat is approaching soon too? Do you want to spend it at home or would you want us to go to heat hotels?” Johnny asks, but all you could focus on was the wording ‘us’. 

“At home would be great, I want to nest a bit longer after my heat breaks,” you explain.

“Okay, we’ll go through this together,” your alpha reassures you.

The sexual tension between the two of you was so thick that a knife would've sliced through it, your approaching heat meant that your body temperature was rising steadily, that meant you had switched out your comfy sweat sets for cropped tees and cute house shorts, and the new expanse of exposed skin has Johnny struggling to concentrate on his work whenever he takes his work to the living room for a change of environment.

“Should he engage with you before your heat hits or should he wait and continue earning your validation? 

You probably don’t have any extreme standards towards Johnny, but he has expectations for himself, like just the other day, he took you to a Japanese omakase, it was expensive, but your fascination towards the chef’s skill was worth every penny.

Other than that, he’s bought you flowers almost everyday, Mark had called him old schooled, courting you like what an alpha would do back in the 70s.

Johnny doesn’t really see this as a form of courting, he’s only giving you what you weren’t allowed to access in life, she was a selfish woman, she’d spent good money on a car before spending money on your needs. He recalls how  you used to eat more on days where Johnny took both you and your mother out for dates, when he had asked you back then when your mother had walked away to the loo, that you don’t usually get to eat food this good, or this plenty when it was only the two of you. 

Johnny curses to himself when he thinks of it, he should’ve realised this sooner, how your mother was treating you with such blatant dislike, he thought your relationship was rocky, he hadn’t known or expected that you were abused and neglected by her all along.

“What’s with the frown on your face, love?” you ask when you came round after fetching yourself a glass of water, taking a seat next to the warm alpha, you’re rather warm these days, which is why you’ve been layering less, so that you could still cuddle Johnny comfortably. 

“Nothing, was wondering where you were at,” Johnny says, he doesn’t want to bring it up, you always have melancholy swimming in your eyes whenever he mentions your excuse of a mother, it’s better to not mention the past now that you’re having a good day.

“Corny alpha,” you tease, snuggling to his side, purring when his scent begins to envelope the two of you, you had specifically  told Johnny that the scent of cinnamon calms you down, that you love smelling like him, consenting yourself to be scented by him at any opportunity. 

“It’s work, isn’t it? Let’s take a break, how about a nap?” you suggest with an excited smile, you love being cuddled to sleep, his scent is a remedy for your insomnia.

“You should’ve become a negotiator,” Johnny says as he lifts you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you. 

“I could’ve walked myself, you know,” you say breathlessly in between giggles, being carried by Johnny always makes you giddy, like you were a child all over again.

“What’s the fun in that?” Johnny retorts as he lays you down gently on his bed, and instantly his arms come circling your waist once more, Johnny can’t describe it, but whenever he pulls you into his embrace, his alpha feels like it’s coming home, having memorised your every touch, and when your smile falls a little, his alpha is clawing at his chest to prod why.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Johnny asks, his hand reaching up to cradle your cheek.

“Can I ask you something Johnny?” that question worries Johnny, but he nods regardless, he promised to himself he’d face whatever problems the two of you may come across.

“What did you see in her back then? And what do you see in me? I don’t look anything like her,” you add on, choosing to be honest with him with your insecurities, your physical features have always taken after your father, or your male producer, since that’s all he’s done for you.

Johnny stills, he didn’t expect you to ask anything like that, and he sighs, knowing that he’d have to come clean to you sooner or later.

“I was attracted to the faint scent of pears mixed with roses when I first bumped into your mother, it was so calming to me, and at that time I guess I was young, and I wanted someone who was serious with me I guess, and maybe partly because it was kinda cool, bragging to my friends that I bagged myself a milf, it was just lots of bad decisions, really, especially when I realised that the scent I found comforting didn’t even belong to the person I was seeing, and I never thought you looked like your mother, she is her own beauty, and you are your own,” Johnny confesses and reassures, unknowingly, he’s breathing in your scent now, to calm his nerves.

“All of us make mistakes, Johnny, I’m just glad you don’t see me as an extension of her, that worried me the most to be honest,” you say truthfully, “that was my biggest worry.”

“You have nothing to worry about, if you do, that means I’m fucking something up,” Johnny jokes, but with a full sense of seriousness to it, and he looks into your eyes, trying his best to convey the message that this is serious, that you’re everything to him. 

“Stop looking at me like that, go to sleep, you need it,” you say, laying your head on Johnny’s pillow and his shoulder, the support your neck needed after a day of editing videos.

“I think you needed this nap more than me,” Johnny notes with a teasing tone, but nonetheless, does as you’re told, closing his eyes to drift off to peaceful slumber with you.

When Johnny wakes up, he feels your body next to his, impossibly close, and also alarmingly hot, he jerks awake, seeing your forehead beaded with sweat, immediately he knew your heat has approached, or is coming soon, he could also feel his rut arriving, having triggered by your heat, he concludes when he feels the prickly feeling he gets at the back of his neck, a sign of his upcoming rut.

Should he wake you up? You never enjoy being woken up for no reason, but he could smell your scent sweeten, meaning that you’re probably getting wet by whatever dream you’re having.

Johnny made up his mind to wake you up at half past six, then you’d at least have two hours of sleep, for now, he’s going to make some porridge in his rice cooker, so you’d have some light food to have if your heat is put on a pause, Johnny’s never been so glad for having a stocked up fridge more than now, he has to move quick, he doesn’t want you, or more so, your omega in distress if you find him gone from the bed.

Johnny finishes up the last step of his mother’s old recipe before he dashes back into his room, you were still sleeping, rolling around in the pile of clothes Johnny had placed surrounding you, a makeshift nest ro help you sleep better, and it worked, seeing how you’re sweating a bit less, your face a bit less tensed.

Johnny looks at the time on the clock, you’ve been sleeping for almost three hours now, it’s time to wake you up if he wants to make it on time for dinner to be done.

“Hey, baby, time to wake up, you’ve been sleeping for a long time amd, don’t panic, but I think your heat is here, do you still want me around? If not I could probably look for a heat hotel for myself,” Johnny reassures, even though you’ve told him many times that you’re perfectly fine with spending your heat and rut together.

“I wouldn’t want to spend it any other way, Johnny,” you say with utmost confidence, knowing that if you didn’t Johnny’s going to overthink himself not to.

“Okay,” Johnny replied with a shaky breath, he’s never been nervous to sleep with an omega, but this is you, the person that matters most in his life, it’s expected of him to be on his nerves.

Although without mark, you could feel how nervous Johnny is through his scent, the sweet cinnamon having a twinge of sour, any other alpha would’ve lost control at this point, but Johnny hasn’t even complained about his awful blue balls even once, and is instead contributing to his own pain, and so you decide to help him out, or you’d be lying in your own puddle of arousal and still you wouldn’t have came even once.

“Tell me what you want to do with me,” you suggest before you seal your lips with his, in hopes that it’d motivate him to be more expressive with you, that if you can’t lead Johnny himself to make a move on you, that Johnny’s alpha would.

Instantly, Johnny’s hands held onto your hips possessively, his face nuzzles into your neck, his tongue flicking dangerously at the spot which might bind you closer than the imprint, but you expose your neck still, your omega doing the thinking for you in this haze of lust your body is driven to.

When he brushes his teeth against your sliver of neck, you instantly feel a new flood of arousal, your scent now heavily dousing the air Johnny breathes in.

Johnny curses, and you know why, you could feel his large cock twitching in his pants, the tip grinding against your puffy clit through the many layers of clothing, the rough material encouraging you to swivel your hips faster, your mind in a frenzy to seek more pleasure, but Johnny ceases all your movements with his strong hands.

“You asked me what I wanted to do with you,” Johnny says before his hands pry your clothed cheeks apart, dropping his head to your shoulder before he inhales deeply, almost growling at the sweet spike of your scent, “I want a taste, sweetheart, could you give me that?” Johnny asks after pulling away, his eyes hooded, a red hue painted on his honey brown eyes. 

“Okay-y,” you say shakily, preparing to hop off of your alpha, but Johnny ceases your movements once more, causing you to whine, your omega disliking the fact that you’re getting denied from your sweet pleasure.

“I want you to ride my face, baby,” Johnny demands, pushing you upwards his body, getting you to move as you quickly nod your head, one of your oldest fantasies of Johnny coming true right now.

Johnny helps you remove your pants and underwear, his eyes zoning in on your slicked up pussy.

“Beautiful, so fucking pretty, and all mine,” Johnny admires aloud before he jerks your body downwards, attaching his tongue to your cunt, lapping away like some mutt, his tongue greedily catches all your sweet juices before he thrusts his tongue inside your core, groaning at the way your warm velvet walls cocoon around his tongue, his mind reeling at the thought of having his cock deep inside you, how tight you’d feel around him.

Johnny’s pace is too fast, he has you grabbing the headboard, toes clenched as you whimper at the feeling of his flexible tongue and sharp nose digging at your clit when he started moving your hips for you, you’re most certainly fucking his face now, and when you thought things couldn’t feel any better, Johnny exchanges his tongue with three of his fingers and he traps your clit in between his lips, sucking hard, he had feared his jaw would really go slack if he keeps up with the strenuous routine for too long.

However, the added thickness and length quickly has you screaming, the tips of his fingers finally reaching your sensitive spot, and so you fall apart, screaming.

“Fuck, so good, daddy,” you say as you weakly grind against Johnny’s face, not registering the fact that the man under you had frozen up, but he lets you continue nonetheless, savouring your sweet release on his taste buds.

When you’re finally done riding out your high, Johnny gently flips you to his spot, now he’s hovering over you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to spill that dirty little secret to daddy this soon, my sweetheart,” Johnny says as he brushes your hair out of your face, admiring your flushed face.

Your heart drops at Johnny’s words, cursing at your lack of clarity whilst you're entrapped in this sex crazed heat.

“Don’t be so worried baby, you don’t need to hide yourself from daddy,” Johnny reassures before he kisses you softly, tasting yourself on his tongue.

With Johnny’s reassurance, you uncover yourself and start roaming your hands up his shirt to have a touch of Johnny’s chiselled body, he deduces that he can wait no longer, quickly jerking off his pants, his large cock hung in between his strong thighs, Johnny jerks off his cock with his hands as he admires your bare body, he feels himself battling with his wolf side, the desire to fuck, breed, and claim nagging his mind.

“You can still back out, sweetheart, go while my rut hasn’t entirely consumed me,” Johnny reminds you.

“No, please, I need this, I need you, daddy,” you say as you spread your legs, sitting up to reach for Johnny’s cock, but before you could even touch him, Johnny gently pushes you down the bed with one hand, the other gripping his dick in his hands, guiding himself to your entrance.

Johnny intertwines his hand with yours, hands locked next to your head as you feel his gaze burning into yours, slowly, you feel him breaching your ring of muscle, your walls opening up bit by bit as he fills you up slowly.

A whimper escapes you as you feel him surely filling you up to the brim.

“I’m sorry, baby, just a little bit more, you’re more than halfway in, baby, you’re doing a good job for me,” Johnny coos, his thumb brushing against your knuckles, an action he does whenever he picks up your anxiety spike in your scent.

When you’ve swallowed his length whole, Johnny lets you adjust to his size, distracting you by kissing you passionately, hoping that his lips would suffice as a distraction from the burn you’re feeling down there, and slowly, the burning feeling turns into slow but steady twinges of pleasure, and the fullness is driving your omega crazy, and now she’s craving for a big fat knot.

“You can move now, daddy,” you say, in a reassuring tone, your hand squeezing Johnny’s.

Johnny nods, before he pulls his hand away, choosing to hold your hips for better control, he thrusts shallowly, needing to gauge your reaction before he really starts, and the reaction is immediate, the friction of your walls against his bare cock is too good, moaning at the slight movement.

Johnny takes this as a positive sign, his alpha crooning, he pulls out most of his length, leaving the tip in before he thrusts back into you in one stroke, groaning at the way you clench around him. 

“Fuck, baby, you feel so tight, so wet,” Johnny mumbles, more to himself since you’re getting lost by how Johnny almost immediately locates your sweet spot again, a whine leaving you as your toes clench and your nails drag down his back, and the pain fuels Johnny, knowing that he could drive you mad just from his dick alone.

“Alpha, please…”

Johnny’s cock twitches at hearing you beg, he doesn’t even need to dick train you, your daddy issues alone have moulded you into his perfect princess.

“Please what, sweetheart? You need to be specific,” Johnny demands, a hand coming to rub circles on your clit, he knows you’re very wet by now, but he wants you to unclench yourself, it’s not going to be pleasurable if you’re constantly tense.

“I…” you stutter, how can you voice the fact that you want him to move because you’re insanely horny? But the encouraging smile and constant calming pheromones in the air has you caving in, and maybe your omega is getting frustrated too.

“Want you to move faster, please daddy,” you say in a seductive, yet shy whisper, before you add on something absolutely unfiltered from your omega’s mind, “make your omega feel good.”

Johnny lets out an appreciative growl, ready to accept the challenge after hearing you call yourself his.

Johnny ploughs his cock inside you at a rapid pace, his hands grabbing, digging into your ass cheeks as he most literally, rocks your world.

You could feel yourself slipping away from sanity, choked moans leaving your parted lips as Johnny rearranges your guts, hooking one of your legs around his waist so that he could thrust deeper inside you, upholding your request of being filled with his cum.

A loud whine escapes you as you let yourself be manhandled, anything is fine by you as long as you could feel this overwhelming amount of pleasure going through your body.  

You hold onto Johnny’s tricep as you feel yourself being rushed into another high.

“Daddy!” you gasp out once the dam of pleasure finally breaks, figuratively and literally, because the next thing you could register in your heat crazed haze is that your pelvis and Johnny’s luscious looking thighs are drenched with your release.

Your eyes widen comically as you take in the fact that you just squirted, the apology on the tip of your tongue.

However, Johnny beats you to it, voicing his positive thoughts over it.

“Fuck, baby, can’t believe you squirted just like that, your tight little hole couldn’t handle daddy’s big cock, am I right?” Johnny asks, his tone so gentle, yet his words so filthy, and that has your heart doing somersaults and your pussy clenching enthusiastically. 

Then your heart drops, the love fest interrupts your train of thoughts, Johnny hasn’t cum yet.

“Daddy, you haven’t cum,” you said, immediately clenching onto the girth inside you, but Johnny grips your hips to halt you.

“You must be tired, let your body rest before your heat consumes you again,” Johnny suggests, prepared to pull out of you.

“No! Please, daddy, I need your cum, your knot, or I’d feel empty…daddy,” the last part came out as a whisper, still not being used to voicing out your carnal desires even though it’s perfectly normal, especially during one’s heat.

Johnny gives you a soft smile, a hand caressing your face before he kisses you gently on the lips.

“Present yourself,” your alpha says to you before he pulls himself out, kneeling before your beautiful body, choosing to let you make the move.

And so you did, slowly lifting yourself, turning around and presenting yourself, on your knees with your ass arched up, your pussy glistening even under the minimal lighting in the room. 

Johnny curses under his breath before he quickly seathes himself back inside you, groaning at the welcoming walls that he once again sank into.

“Don’t hold back, alpha, take what you need,” you say, twisting your neck to get a glimpse at the beautiful man you’re able to call yours.

Johnny curses under his breath before he resumes the punishing pace he had going on before you reached your high. You’re really starting to think you’re a masochist, the way you enjoy the slight burn from the overstimulation has all the signs showing that you can no longer deny.

“Is my baby a pain slut? Whining that it hurts, but I can still feel your pussy getting wetter for me,” Johnny teases as he slows down his thrusts, putting more emphasis on fucking you deeper, now that you’ve came.

All you could do was nod between sniffles, struggling to agree with your alpha verbally, knowing that most men find that sexy, but Johnny coos, he knows what you want to convey, and the fact that you couldn’t even speak your mind whilst he fucks you just drives his confidence through the roof.

Before he knows it, Johnny could feel his cock bulging up, his knot forming, groaning at the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him so closely, and his knot hasn’t even finished swelling up.

Johnny whispers sweet encouragements in your ears as you whimper at the foreign feeling of being knotted.

Soon after, his knot starts to deflate, spurts of cum painting your walls white as he calls your name sweetly, almost moaning. 

And slowly, the stream comes to a stop, you were in and out of it during the time of you and Johnny being locked together, dozing off as Johnny has his arms wrap around your body, scenting you even though you are most definitely drenched in his scent from the constant physical attachment, but he understands you well enough that you need this on an emotional level.

“You can still leave if you don’t want to spend my rut with me, I can feel it starting soon, maybe give or take a few hours,” Johnny reminds you, giving you one last chance to leave if you decide to not spend a rut with him yet, which is respectable, the two of you haven’t been dating that long, most people at least wait a year of dating before spending such a vulnerable time together.

“I’m sure, Johnny,” you reassured him as you brush the flyaways from his handsome face.

“Then let’s get some food before we fuck like bunnies again,” Johnny jokes before he whisks you away to the direction of his kitchen, tummy rumbling now that you caught whiff of the scent of delicious food, you just hope your alpha is able to keep his hands to himself long enough after you guy finish washing the dishes.

You smile to yourself at the realisation, that even with all the uncertainty that started off between the two of you, the situation with your mother and how Johnny used to keep you at arm’s length, in the end, you win.

[divinesyn]

hihi 🤗

ive been thinking abt jealous winter who fucks you when your asleep because she was upset you hung out with your friend without telling her, and waking up to her straddling your stomand, riding you with an anger face (but she looks so cute)

hi anon! so sorry this took so long, but your mind is... 😩

-x-

brief: After what you assumed to be a harmless night out it seems your girlfriend doesn't have the nerve to tell you otherwise... Not to your face at least. pairing: fem!reader x winter genre: smut with some plot i guess...

this was definitely not proofread.......... i kept writing chunks of this late at night before i slept so ill probably check back and proof it later :)

-x-

One could say that Minjeong was a woman of actions rather than words. Except that doesn't really apply to you since you have been completely oblivious to said actions.

The excessive pouting

The impatient tapping of fingers on the couch armrests

The constantly furrowed brows

Is she stupid?

Minjeong huffed as her eyes scanned you above the edge of her phone, lazily perched on the couch as you hurriedly adjusted your earrings as they tangled into your hair amidst the rush. The corporate wear that was on you roughly forty-five minutes ago was replaced with a black, sinfully - as Minjeong puts it briefly - tight dress that had your girlfriend sinking her teeth just slightly deeper into her bottom lip. As soon as you crossed into your shared apartment, phone held to your ear with an awkwardly shrugged shoulder as you excitedly conversed with whoever was on the line, Minjeong was not content with the barely there peck you gave before you rushed into the bedroom.

And she was definitely not happy with the way you looked when you exited.

Heavier, evening-ready makeup now adorning your features in the best way possible has your girlfriend pouting, still lost in what you were doing and who you were going out with to warrant your absolute best. Phone now nestled in the simple leather clutch in your hand you flash a smile to Minjeong, heels thudding against the floor as you approach her.

'Going out, home late. Talk to you about it later!'

Rosy lips press against Minjeong's as she simply hums in response.

Oblivious as always you step out of the door Minjeong finally decides to speak.

'Who are you going out wi-'

The door closes before she can finish her sentence eyes rolling as she sighs. Shoulders shrugging as she continues to idly scroll on her phone.

She'll figure it out, she guesses.

-x-

Eyes that were eagerly eating up the sight of you sitting cross-legged suddenly narrow at the sight of a familiar face that has their body posing dangerously close to yours.

Of course, in your eyes, it really was just a harmless photo, taken in the interior of a modern restaurant several blocks away from your apartment. Glass of wine in hand you're pressed into the side of none other than your high school best friend.

Ning Yizhou.

Having met during your international schooling days in China you two were practically inseparable, especially seeing as you two both ended up working in Seoul. However, seeing as Yizhou frequently worked abroad you two barely saw each other after you graduated from university seeing as you joined graduate programs within competitor companies no less.

Minjeong has heard countless stories even being indulged in your drunkenly recalled university stories where you and Yizhou may have hooked up before, but she never thought anything of it and has always enjoyed being in her company when you three - sometimes four, with the occasional visit of Yizhou's partner Aeri - were together if she was back in the city. A flicker of jealousy teased Minjeongs chest as she tapped through your Instagram story as you grinned happily beside Yizhou, looking so frustratingly good. As much as she would like to fight the envy she knew that beneath the surface the emotions that were swirling were unable to be suppressed as they brewed into something much, much more.

It wasn't until you came back slightly tipsy and undeniably too tired to do anything else, that when you blindly fumbled your way into the bedroom pressing against your girlfriend's body with a heaved sigh that Minjeong really did think you were completely oblivious to the storm that was was her.

-x-

You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol that was still buzzing in your system or the sleepy haze that clouded your eyes but as you wearily blinked up to what appeared to be your girlfriend straddling you your head can only cock to the side.

'Jeong..?'

The weight that was on your lap was undoubtedly real and you begin to push yourself up, only to be firmly pressed back down onto the sheets below.

'Stay.'

Brows furrowed you open your mouth to speak once more.

'What-'

A warm mouth encloses yours as you rouse from your weary state suddenly aware of the way the material of your dress has been hiked up to your waist, just above your belly button with an all too familiar heat pressed against your stomach.

Pulling away from the kiss you can't help but huff.

'Baby-' Feeling her subtly grind onto your skin your teeth grit 'Fuck, you're so wet'

Your eyes return to her face, barely illuminated by the ambient glow of the street lights several floors below. Minjeong's face was flushed a rosy hue that definitely contrasted the pissed look on her face.

'D-Did I do something wrong?'

Scoffing Minjeong stills herself, as her hands perch on your shoulders you feel the sting of nails pressing into your flesh.

'How come you didn't tell me you were going out with Yizhou?' Minjeong replies with a venomous husk. 'Dressed up all nice, wearing this of all things.'

Her words are accentuated by the trailing of her palms down your exposed shoulders to the sides of your waist as Minjeong's eyes shamelessly stare down your body, gripping at the offending material of your dress as she stretches it away from your skin with the playful intention to rip it.

'Don't even think about it.'

The black fabric snaps back to your body as her eyes flicker up to yours. You'd almost feel threatened save for the innocent - if you could even say that - pout that plastered her face.

'Didn't even pay attention to me when you came back from work...' Is mumbled under her breath and you quirked a brow. You resist the urge to chuckle and instead become hyper-aware of the heat that radiated between the thighs that were hovering above your stomach and those urges are quickly replaced with a different kind.

Planting your hands on her waist you press her down firmly, providing the friction she seemed to so desperately crave as her hips rut instinctively against you with a gasp.

'You're soaked through your panties, baby...' You can't help the salacious grin as you watch Minjeong's head jerk back.

'Y/N...'

'Sad that unnie had to rush off? Couldn't give Minjeongie any attention right?'

Reaching underneath the oversized t-shirt you hum at the feeling of warm skin, gripping at the soft flesh of Minjeong's chest as nimble fingers pinched and flicked at her nipples.

This won't do is what you think as you finally find yourself snapped out of the sleepy haze quickly retracting your hands - much to Minjeong's dismay - as you flip your positions, watching bleached blonde hair sprawling on the sheets and a flushed Minjeong gazing up in surprise.

You idly reach down to caress the pale skin of her outer thigh watching with restraint as she squirmed at your touch with a helpless whine.

'So whiny tonight baby,' You rasp 'C'mon tell unnie what you want.'

'I-I don't know.' She responds, averting her gaze from yours.

Your free hand grips at her chin as you force her head to face yours.

'Look at me when I speak baby,' This time you can't help but chuckle as your girlfriend pouts once more 'What? You were so confident before, where did it all go?'

As you playfully snap the waistband of her panties Minjeong stays silent. Unamused to say the least, your body hinges forward as your breath fans across her ear.

'Don't start something you can't finish baby girl.'

Wordlessly you tug at the hem of her t-shirt urging her to remove it. Sitting upright you watch as a blur of white is strewn across the dark pit of your bedroom floor you smile in appreciation at newly exposed skin, head lowering back down once again.

Lips latching to the flawless expanse of her neck your tongue laps at the skin before teeth sink down enough to have Minjeong yelping. Soothing the reddening skin with a kiss, you continue to tease between her thighs away from where she needs you most.

'Now, are you going to tell me what you want?'

'Between my legs, please unnie...' Minjeong finally hushes out, the tiny breaths she was taking driving you closer to your intentions of ruining her.

'Between your legs? But I'm already here?' You respond, with a playful slap on the skin of her thighs. 'You need to be more specific than that.'

Fingers dip below the material of her panties before retreating up, only to rub at the clothed area of Minjeong's pussy teasing close to her aching clit.

'F-fuck... Need you there!' She gasps as your thumb swipes across the swollen nub 'Need your fingers in my pussy, or your mouth, just something unnie please!'

'Only because you said please'

One arm wrapped around her waist you pepper feathery light kisses across her chest, the other hand pulling the damp cotton to the side with two slender fingers plunging into tight, wet heat.

'Ah! Y/N please... more'

Setting a gradual pace, your lips inch towards a perky nipple enveloping it with the warmth of your mouth. You feel Minjeong's skin press further into yours with a whimper as her hips rocked gratefully into your fingers. Releasing her nipple with a pop you contently watch the blissed expression on Minjeong's face as her lips part with breathy moans, eyes fluttering shut. Feeling her clench around you has you groaning at the wetness that was forming between your own thighs but you ignore it for the sake of your girlfriend.

'Finally happy? Unnie is giving you the attention you wanted so bad.'

As she opens her eyes to your wicked grin you don't miss the glassy stare that is returned to you and the fucked out look drives your fingers to curl against a spot that has her biting her lip.

'Feels so good unnie'

Thumb rubbing at her precious clit, Minjeong's walls clench pathetically around your fingers as she moans your name at the relentless pace you filled her.

'God you're clenching. You know this pussy belongs to me don't you baby? Or were you trying to get me to fuck you so bad because you were getting jealous at the thought of Yizhou and I doing this instead?'

Minjeong knew you were only teasing but those words further fueled the fire that was raging in the pit of her stomach but she wouldn't dare to admit that. Though her body openly betrayed her as her hips jerked up in response, tongue cheekily poking out between gritted teeth.

'Only yours y/n. Yours only!'

'If you were mine baby you'd cum wouldn't you?' You continue to plant open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, admiring the smattering of red and purple that contrasted against her pale skin. 'You'd cum all over unnies fingers like a good girl right?'

You can't even register what she responds with as it comes out as a choked, broken sob as her thighs tremble violently as her cunt clenches around your fingers. The jerking of her hips becomes stuttered as she rides the waves of her high, matching the rhythm you set. Fixated on the sight of her coming undone you slip out of her heat, lazily rubbing at her clit.

'Mmm... no more please...'

Heeding to her words you bring drenched digits up, tapping at her lips.

'Open.'

Minjeong's lips engulf your fingers with a warm tongue lapping languidly at the taste of herself with a content sigh. Releasing your hand with a lewd pop, she's quick to chase with your mouth. Indulging in the taste of her your tongues gently press against one another as you reluctantly pull away.

Feeling the curl of her lips just as your lips part Minjeong reverses your positions once more for the night with a giggle, it feels like deja vu though the only difference was the fact Minjeong's head was hovering above your core with a disgustingly smug grin.

'I'd say back to where I started... But I figured we can skip a few steps.'

-x-

[defectivevillain]

born into blood

pairing: Ghostface/Reader (can be platonic or romantic)

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: Christina Carpenter wasn’t the only woman to have an affair with Billy Loomis… Your mother did too. You’re Billy’s child, just like Sam Carpenter. But you saw what happened to Sam—so you keep silent. Your father’s real identity is a secret you will take to your grave. At least, that’s what you think. Then, one day, Ghostface comes calling…

word count: 2.2k | ao3 version

warnings: canon-typical violence, character death; attempted murder, strangulation, blood, hallucinations; scream (2022) spoilers.

notes: I wrote Ghostface with he/him pronouns, but he remains nameless—so feel free to imagine whichever killer you want.

thank you @palefaceswhore for the beta! 🖤 any remaining mistakes are mine.

You don’t usually answer phone calls from unidentified numbers. But you had a job interview a few days ago, and you still haven’t gotten a response from the company, so you accept the call and bring your phone up to your ear with hope brewing in your chest. You thought you did a decent job in the interview, and you hope the recruiters thought the same. 

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of breath on the other line. Dread begins to prickle across your skin. Your tongue feels stuck to the roof of your mouth. Just as you summon the courage to speak, the other person speaks.  “What’s your favorite scary movie?”  

A shiver runs down your spine at the familiar voice. You immediately hang up and slam your phone face-down on the table. With quick breaths, you pick up your phone and shakily open your phone app again, blocking the contact. It’s not the first time you’ve gotten a prank call mimicking Ghostface, unfortunately—since the Stab movies first came out, unruly teenagers have started doing it rather frequently. But your particular situation is a bit different than that of the average person. After all, Billy Loomis is your father. 

For the longest time, you had no idea. But once you turned sixteen, your mother sat you down and told you the truth: she had an affair during her marriage, and that affair resulted in your birth. Safe to say, you were sick to your stomach. That revelation only proved to be much worse, however, when she revealed exactly who she slept with: Billy Loomis, one of the original Ghostface killers. A murderer. 

It took you a long time for you to begin trusting your mother again. And a small part of you knows that you’ll never look at her the same again—both because of what she did and because of the years she spent keeping it a secret from you. When you finally moved out from her house, you were mostly relieved. Leaving that house meant leaving it all behind. You didn’t have to meet your mother’s eyes and see a killer’s malice reflected in them any longer. 

Time passed and you slowly moved on. Ultimately, you decided that it would be ridiculously dangerous for you to tell anyone. You’ve kept that promise to yourself since your mother first confessed the identity of your father to you. You can only hope the secret dies a swift death, never seeing the light of day. After all, Billy Loomis is dead. You can take comfort in that… right? 

Then you hear about Sam Carpenter, and everything comes rushing back. The world had slowly moved on from Billy Loomis, as the Ghostface mask was passed from killer to killer. But once Sam Carpenter was unwittingly thrust into the public eye, you saw your quiet life slowly crumbling before you. You didn’t need to know Sam personally to know how she must’ve been treated for her parentage. The public villainized her—even with incontrovertible proof that she wasn’t the killer. Ghostface is everywhere now. You can’t avoid him, no matter how hard you try. All you can do… is hope that no one else discovers the identity of your father—otherwise you’ll be pursued with vengeance, just as Sam and her friends were. 

A ringing sound draws you from your thoughts. You frown and walk through your living room, attempting to discern the source of the noise. Once you walk into the kitchen, you realize that it’s your landline—the one that was supposedly disconnected. You’ve never given out that number to anyone. Hell, the phone hasn’t been used in years. It rings again and you flinch, before shaking your head in disbelief.  You should just ignore the call, obviously. But that’s against the rules, a voice in your head whispers. In the movies, if you don’t answer, he’ll just come out and stab you in the back. At least this way, maybe he’ll give you a chance at life. You know this isn’t a Stab movie… but your hand moves of its own accord, grabbing the phone and bringing it to your ear. 

“That wasn’t very nice.” That warped, deepened voice sends chills down your spine.  “Don’t try that again.” 

You’re starting to think that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t a prank call. And on the small chance that this is really happening—that Ghostface himself is calling you—hanging up would be a death sentence. You swallow hard and remain on the line, despite everything in your head screaming at you to hang up and run away as fast as you can. You try to take slow, measured breaths as you look around the room for signs of his presence. You don’t see anything. 

“Good,” Ghostface says patronizingly. You try to take a deep breath. It isn’t your father. But that doesn’t quite matter—that deepened, warped voice still reminds you of him. “Now, let’s try that again. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You rack your brain and try to think of something to say. “… Saw .” You eventually respond. Admittedly, it’s hard to focus on the conversation. All you can think about is the high probability that Ghostface is outside of your home—or, hell, even in it—already. 

“Really?” Ghostface hums interestedly. “Not Stab ?”

“No,” you respond, your heart jumping in your throat. The mere mention of the movie franchise is enough to make you nervous, as you remember your father. Something stews in your chest and your fingers tighten around the phone as you hold it to your ear. 

“Why not?” Ghostface asks innocently. His voice is mocking. “It’s about your father, after all.”

You’re silent, entirely frozen as a victorious cackle sounds through your phone. 

“Oh, you thought no one knew?” He continues. “Billy Loomis was a player, and that’s no secret.” 

“What do you want from me?” You choke out. You’ve spent more than twenty years outrunning your father’s reputation—doing everything in your power to ensure that no one ever knew your connection to him. And now it’s all slipping away from you. All your hard work is slipping down the drain, falling through your fingers like granules of sand. 

As if sensing your unease and distress, Ghostface’s voice has a triumphant lilt to it. “What I want…” He breaks off, “is for you to give in. ” You stare ahead in shocked silence. The taste of bile settles on your tongue. “It’s time for you to carry on your father’s legacy.” 

The call abruptly ends. Immediately, you whip around and brace yourself against the kitchen counter, dread churning in your chest. You’ve seen the Stab movies—once Ghostface hangs up, he reveals himself to his victim. You grit your teeth and frantically search your drawers for a knife. When your hand closes around the knife, you turn around to find Ghostface standing right in front of you. The knife in his hand glitters at you mockingly. 

“Come on,” he says, his voice still distorted and deep. You squint at him, surprised that you don’t see him holding a voice changer in his hand. There must be something fixed to the inside of his mask. Unfortunately, you’re not given the luxury to muse on that thought, as he steps even closer and forces you to back up against the counter, before standing still. You can sense his eyes boring into you through the mask. “I’ll give you a free shot. It’s your birthright.” Ghostface reaches out with his free hand, taking your hand in his and tilting your knife up until it points at his shoulder. 

You swallow hard, your heart thundering in your chest as you try to grasp the reality of the situation you find yourself in. You’re standing before a killer and he’s willingly giving you a chance to weaken him. Despite knowing that you should take the shot he’s giving you, all it takes is a flicker of your father’s visage in your mind’s eye for you to shake your head stubbornly. Making the first move is far more difficult in reality than you expect it to be. Besides, while he’s certainly antagonized you, Ghostface hasn’t actually harmed you yet. Stabbing him without being provoked isn’t something you can get yourself to do, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that you need this advantage he’s giving you. 

Silence stretches on, settling in the air between you. Ghostface is standing far too close for you to be comfortable, and his grip on your arm is extremely tight. Eventually, he exhales. “I gave you a chance,” the killer shrugs. Despite that statement, he’s still grasping your hand. “Now, I’m afraid your cameo has come to an end… The killer’s child becomes the victim. It’s poetic justice!” 

You don’t get a chance to pick apart that statement before Ghostface is lodging his knife into your left side and pulling it back out forcefully. You scream, quickly pressing a hand to the wound in a rather futile attempt to stop the bleeding. As you fall to your knees, you return the blow and sink your knife into his thigh. He hisses and falls to the side, giving you time to sweep his feet out from under him and clumsily get to your feet. Through your pain-hazed vision, you manage to navigate through your kitchen and into the living room. Remembering your phone in your pocket, you take it out and attempt to call emergency services, only for Ghostface to slam into you and tackle you to the floor. You try to throw him off, but he looms over you and tries to stab you again. You manage to roll to the side, letting out an uncomfortable hiss as the movement sends pain flaring up your side. His knife lodges into the floor beneath you with a solid thunk. 

“That’s it,” he spits, grabbing your shirt collar. “Bastard.” The insult is punctuated by a harsh thud, which you realize moments later to be the sound of your head hitting the ground. Your vision is spiraling and blurring as his hands move to your throat. You immediately try to push him off.

Suddenly a bright light flashes before your eyes, and your father is staring down at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes fall to something near your side and you follow his gaze, remembering the knife that is still lodged into the ground. In his enraged fervor, the killer hasn’t seemed to notice it. It’s nearly right in front of him—you’ll have to be very quick to grab it. Your vision is practically pulsing at this point, but even through the blurriness, you can see Billy Loomis’ twisted grin.

Ghostface brutally tightens his grip on your throat and rips the air from your lungs. You’re writhing and thrashing against him, but his hold is strong and unflinching. You don’t have much time, so you make a grab for the knife and manage to free it from the floorboards. It clatters to the ground and suddenly, both you and Ghostface are reaching for the weapon. With a stretch that sends bolts of pain down your forearm, you manage to clasp the knife first—and you don’t hesitate to bury it into Ghostface’s neck. His hands fall from your neck and you frantically inhale, coughing and choking as you push yourself to your knees. Saliva falls from your lips and you wipe at it with your free hand, before focusing your attention on Ghostface once more. He’s sprawled on the ground before you, clasping at his neck in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. But blood is positively oozing out of him, and his form promptly slackens. 

You’re still not convinced. Doesn’t the killer always miraculously lurch forward at the last moment, when the victim thinks they’re dead? You decide you’d rather not test that theory, and settle for yanking the knife back out of his neck. The blood loss will kill him, if he isn’t already dead. 

After a few more moments staring down at Ghostface and contemplating your next move, you grab at his wrist and feel for a pulse. There’s nothing—a notion further punctuated by the way his arm promptly crashes to the floor when you release it. Your attacker is dead. 

The adrenaline that kept you alive begins to fade, leaving you with a bone-deep ache and a stinging sensation in your side. The knife slips from your grasp and falls to the floor with a deafening clatter. Ghostface’s blood is pooling beneath him, and your hands are painted crimson with it. You’re shaking extremely hard, your chest burning from your near suffocation only moments prior. Your equilibrium is all off, and you’re forced to watch from an outsider’s perspective as the world sways and tilts to the side as you fall back down to the ground. Shadows are crawling across the room; when you blink, you see black boots on the ground next to you. Your father crouches down and stares at you, his expression unreadable through your foggy vision. He almost looks to be resisting the urge to reach out to you. A tear crawls down your cheek as you hear sirens in the distance. 

“Well done.” Billy Loomis says, his voice reverberating through your ears. He crouches down even more, until he’s sitting next to you. With ghosts for company and pain stitching your body together, your vision quickly fades to black. 

thanks for reading! <3

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[cherrysweather]

hi do you think you could do a miles edgeworth x reader where reader comforts edgeworth during or after an earthquake ? maybe angst/comfort :) tysm!

Hello Anon, I'm glad to be writing again! Apologies for the late response, but I hope you're still around to read this :')

(Requests are now open again :D)

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Comforting Miles Edgeworth during an earthquake:

Ever since the death of his father, Miles has always tried to avoid places where earthquakes are known to occur;

But with his constant traveling, he sometimes can't avoid it;

So when he's most insecure, he likes to bring you along, knowing that your presence alone is soothing enough for his terror;

Even if he knows that he's scared and knows how he behaves, he still cannot avoid fleeing to the first spot he deems safe enough and stays there, paralyzed;

He hates being in that state, remembering all the times it blocked him even at work;

But the worst times are when earthquakes strike where he thinks they're rare, like his home;

However, he noticed that whenever you were around, everything was easier, he would calm down faster and his reactions were milder;

He'll probably never recover from the trauma, so finding you was the best thing that could happen to him.

Miles set the freshly brewed tea on the table as he waited for you to return from the kitchen, sat on the chair and adjusted his glasses before pouring the drink into each of your cups.

"Which one did you prepare? Darjeeling again? Or the usual Earl Grey?" as you finally emerged from the room next door, drying your hands with a dishcloth, Miles felt a little tug on his lips and moved a chair closer to his, instead of in front of it. "It's the one I brought you from India, it's a green tea mix of Sencha and Assam, so it's a little less intense than a black one" he gently guided you by hand to sit "So I'm not allowed to add any sugar?" "Nu-uh" he sipped his cup, as his muscles melted on the seat.

Miles loved this moment of the week; after a long, usual day of work, he could relax all the time wanted, knowing tomorrow was a full rest. He would usually read one of his books, or a file case -if in a better mood- and just wait to fall asleep. Luckily, now with your company, he could also have pleasant conversations with someone equally lovely.

The time flew by between a teapot-amount of tea, some discussions about work, hobbies and a very long parenthesis about Miles' recent new assistants in his investigations. You moved on the couch and searched for something to watch as Miles took the tea set and brought it to the kitchen.

However, everything paused when the lights suddenly went out "Miles? Stay where you are, I'll go take the torch" You carefully moved around the apartment, making your hands go first. All the other buildings outside were in total blackout, so the research for the torch was sped up, feeling something bad was arriving.

Feeling that was confirmed mere seconds later, sensing the earth under your feet and the furniture around starting to tremble, first imperceptible, but soon became a true quake. Your first thought went to Miles. Found the torch, as everything trembled, the sound of many pieces of porcelain crashing to the ground of the other room made your guts fall to the ground, and your body followed soon enough.

You had to stay still until the tremors weakened enough to stand up again and rush to the kitchen, making way with the light in hand. As soon as all the ceramics on the ground were spotted, you searched for Miles and undoubtedly found him huddled under the table, quivering and protecting his head with his arms.

Miles froze on the spot when the light blacked out, holding tight to the tray with the tea set, but as soon as the smallest tremor hit his feet, he started shaking and searched somewhere to hold on, but a horrific shake made him fall to the ground, crashing everything in hands and banging his head on some counter. The already black vision didn't help his attempts to not go back to that elevator, all he could do was hug himself as strongly as possible and reach the first wall to have some sort of support around. When a light was pointed at his face, he somewhat understood that he was not inside the elevator, but his head couldn't come out of there.

"Miles! Miles are you hurt?!" you kneeled beside him and tried to "unlock" his head from the protection he created "Miles, it's okay, we're safe, it's gone" you attempted to make him better see around, but he was elsewhere right now, shaking uncontrollably and barely breathing. Nothing comforting worked, between cuddles and gentle whispers, he went increasingly apnoea and tears started falling.

To avoid panicking, you forced his hands away from his face, making him look at you, softly shaking his shoulders to make him inhale air again "Miles please, breathe with me, everything is all right" You found his hand and almost instinctively he clasped his hand with all his strength around yours.

Luckily, lights started to come back to the buildings outside, and when the kitchen ones turned on again, you turned Miles' face towards yours, seeking for any potential injuries, which were more than visible on his temple "I have to get something for your head, you're bleeding" you applied soft pressure on it, but instantly understood that no one was moving soon

Miles remained rigid for some more minutes before slowly coming back to earth. He finally recognized his kitchen and your hand, which up until three seconds ago was the gun he had thrown all those years ago. His mouth wouldn't open, his eyes wouldn't stop leaking tears and his body wouldn't stop shaking; all he managed to do was climb on your legs, searching for a safe position and trying to stabilize his breathing.

You slowly dragged his body from under the table, moving with him until a wall could be used as a backrest, covering his body with your own to give comfort and warmth. Your free hand gently stroked his locks while the one Miles held, kindly caressed his fingers. "Everything is okay Miles, as long as I'm here you're safe, nothing will ever happen to you again" Your thumb cleared his eyes of tears and slipped along his cheeks, allowing Miles to finally relax against you, keeping his eyes open to not permit his mind to play tricks.

"I'm sorry, I hate being like this" he mumbled and tried to straighten his back, loosening the grip on your hand "Don't even start, you're doing so good and it's not your fault. When you're ready we can go to bed and try to forget all this" You shushed him when he tried to talk again, probably about the tea set or the "nuisance" he's causing you "I don't know… if I want to sleep" he softly sobbed, holding his head where it banged "Everything could be worse, and my head is hurting like crazy" he fell again against your body, hiding himself where nothing could see all the overbearing emotions on his features "We'll do whatever you want, just don't hide. The only thing I ask is that you let me aid that wound on your head" You sighed and watched yourself around, noticing that almost all the other cups in the cupboards were destroyed, but everything outside Miles was a tomorrow problem "It's ok, just… stay with me".

It took another two hours to pull Miles up that floor, dragging him to bed first and convincing him to get in his comfortable clothes after "You don't want to try and sleep?" his head was finally patched and massaged carefully to relieve some pain "Not now, if I get asleep, good, otherwise I prefer staying vigilant for any other earthquakes" Miles melted against you, trying his best to listen to your advice and get some sleep, trying to forget what happened and how the perfect evening was ruined in the worst way possible "You can ask for some days off if you want to re-do this stolen time; I'm sure Gumshoe would help your request" Your mind could read his thoughts, and caught the opportunity to let his head wander somewhere else "I hate to skip work for such futile motives; my weakness shouldn't obstruct my work" "Oooh yes, sorry Mr. Chief Prosecutor, the office will crumble on its own weight without you" Your hands kept cuddling him softly enough to stimulate his sleep.

Miles stayed still and silent, eyes closed, ignoring the pain in his head and everything else around, and inside his thoughts. He'll never recover, he knows that perfectly, but if the reserved treatment every time was like this, he could learn to handle better his trauma, and learn how to be properly thankful for what life is finally granting him, not just inflicting; you.

[izzabela]

In The Mafia's Eyes (pt.2) - Lin Kuei Trio x fem!reader

in which the deadliest mafia group's leader and two brothers have you in their grasps

a/n: commenter, you ask so you shall receive

ship[s]: tomas, bi han, kuai liang x fem!reader

warning(s): MDNI, smut, threesome, DP, f!reader = f!genitalia, dirty talk, praise, cuckery!, breeding kink..., unprotected sex

It's in the eyes, little barista

The note that Raiden handed you stayed in your apron pocket until the end of your shift. You were... afraid? Excited? Nervous? Mixed emotions bubbled and brewed like ready hot-pot, and you weren't sure if opening the lid would be worth it.

Once your shift was over, you changed out of your uniform into a thrifted tweed skirt and a button-up. All thrifted during an outing with some friends. You changed out of your work shoes and into some black loafers, and finally hung the apron on the wall. You made sure to take the note out, but another piece fell. You were confused to say the least.

"But Raiden said that this was the only note..." you muttered to yourself.

You nervously opened the folded paper and were greeted with an address. It wasn't yours, thankfully, but the address line was somewhere in the area, where the rich folk live. Taking out your phone, you punched it into maps and found the address leading to a luxurious apartment complex a couple of blocks away from the teahouse.

Is this where they lived? Why would they give you their address? Isn't this how women die in true crime shows? You were drawn out from your thoughts when Kung Lao knocked on the wall.

"You still in here?" he called. He smiled and sighed when he found you, "There you are! Do you recognize this glove? It was left on seat of the chair where I found the tip."

When he showed you the glove, you wanted to strangle someone.

It was Bi Han's, a black and blue colored one with white accents on the side. You took the glove and looked at the note again, realizing what you had to do.

You sighed out loud, pinching your nose bridge, "I know whose this is... I'll be clocking out now. See you guys tomorrow!"

You took shoved your uniform in your work bag and bid quick farewells to your coworkers. Opening your phone, you followed the maps route to the apartment. You looked up and saw the clouds roll over, gray beginning to shroud the blue sky. Your mood soured further with this.

Hopefully, the unprecedented storm would wait until after this visit.

=====================

The rain didn't even bother with your consent, pouring immediately as you were halfway to the apartment. When you got to the door, you were soaked through and through, practically shivering as the doorbell rang through the apartment. Actually, you couldn't even say it was an apartment.

Your handsome regulars lived on the top floor of the complex, the penthouse suite, the complex building was owned by Empress Real Estate. With a quick Google search, you learned they were a company with huge connections to New York's founding. The "King" Jerrod, "Empress" Sindel (who it was named after), and their daughters Mileena and Kitana. Still, the fact couldn't take away how cruel the weather was to you.

The entire day you worked, the sun shone apologetically, why did it have to change so quickly?

The door opens and Tomas's face twists into shock and pity. You offer a smile, but it's hard to deny the state of yourself when your teeth chatter aggressively. He immediately takes you in, leading you to a plush chair in the (rather humble-looking) living room. He reaches for a throw blanket and unfolds it, wrapping it around you. You sink into the warmth, nuzzling into the plush material.

He's crouched to your level, "Warmer? I apologize for not being able to answer sooner," he said with a frown.

You smile, "It's quite alright, Tomas, I didn't know it would rain."

He smiles, and you can see him lift his arm, about to pet your head. However, he stops and stands up quickly. He covers his mouth to hide the pink that creeps his cheeks.

"I'll, uh, go get my brother. Kuai Liang will be here soon, though, please feel comfortable."

He disappears into a hallway next to the kitchen, and on cue Kuai Liang comes out of the kitchen with tea and a warm towel on a tray, and an equally soft smile on his face. You nod to greet him.

"You look as if you expected me," you tease, "You even have a warmed towel!"

He chuckles, "Who's to say this wasn't?"

You blush, looking away shyly as you fiddle with your hands. Kuai Liang chuckles, setting the tray on a side table and taking your hands into his, rubbing the towel over them to get you warmed up quicker. The warmth, and his touch, is making you squirm a bit. He chuckles at your innocence.

"You seem nervous," he states obviously, but he leans close to your ear to whisper, "Are you nervous, dear?"

You sharply inhale, a hazy feeling of lust beginning to fog your brain. You shake your head, muttering a small "no" before he parts from you. Just before he can say anything, you turn your head to the shuffle of feet coming from the hallway Tomas disappeared into. He comes out behind Bi Han, a slightly agitated face on him.

"Why do you wear such clothes, woman? Did you not see the forecast for the day?" he huffs out.

Your arousal dissipated like smoke, eyes rolling as you crossed your arms over your chest. Your shirt was still decently wet despite the blanket offered to you, and your colored bra pressed against the wet fabric ever so slightly. Bi Han glanced briefly before looking to the window, where the downpour grew into a raging storm.

You sigh, "This was not how I wanted my afternoon to go..."

Kuai Liang moved to your side, "It doesn't look like it will let up, best if you stayed here until it stops."

Tomas nods, "I agree, brother," he turns to you, "Whenever you're ready, I can show you to your room for the evening."

You nod, keeping the blanket around you as you followed him. Looking behind you just for a moment, Kuai Liang and Bi Han seem to just be staring at you.

You knew better, though, especially after the note.

Reaching the room, you thank Tomas for escorting you and enter.

"There should be some extra clothes in there, for the guests we have on occasion," his hand grips the door knob, "We'll have dinner ready for you soon, so feel free to roam around our home if you're ready beforehand."

You nod, "Thank you again, Tomas."

Tomas begins to shut the door, but not before he could see you undress just a little bit. Like a Roman statue, you looked carved by the hands of God, plush and round and well-taken care of. Your arms looked toned and soft as well, but he shuts the door before his imagination jumps out of its cage.

You felt the room shake with the slamming of the door, and you look back at it left wondering what went through his head.

=====================

You left the room after getting changed into a sweatshirt and spandex that you wore under your skirt. You also had knitted socks, warming the coldest part of your body. You decide to check on the men who were seeing to your care and saw them cooking, all three of them working together to create dinner.

They were all in more relaxed loungewear than earlier, each one of them in a colored tank top that had similar colors to their suits. They also wore grey-black sweats, all of them at varying heights of their waist. Bi Han had his the lowest, his v-line very much on show as his tank hugged his chest. Kuai Liang's was in the middle and Tomas was tied up.

Your mind began to overload you with disgustingly detailed images of you on your knees in front of them, so to get away from it you decided to wander the penthouse. Passing the kitchen, you were greeting with the rest of the living room.

Huge floor-to-ceiling windows, an interesting light piece that emitted a soft, orange-yellow hue, and a huge wrap-around couch that faced an even larger T.V. You noted numerous video game consoles at the foot of the T.V. system, and the scattered controllers belonging to them.

You sighed and walked past everything to stare at the window, the gloomy scenery of the rain and occasional thunder plaguing the city. You look to the direction of your own flat, and sigh again with worry. Surprised, Kuai Liang was by your side as he noted your expression.

"You seem worried, did you leave something at home?" he asked.

You nodded, "I have a Balinese a Border Collie. The Balinese doesn't like thunder, so she cuddles with my Border Collie, but I worry he won't be able to control her when the thunder strikes harder."

He nods, "I can send someone over if you'd like?"

You turn with hopeful eyes and a relieved smile, "Could you? That would be so great! Their names are..."

You mention their names, gave your address, and watched Kuai Liang send a couple of messages on his phone before he turned it off, paying attention to you once again.

You stretch your neck, a weird tension in your muscle you can't seem to stretch. Kuai Liang takes notice and is behind you.

"May I?" he asks politely.

You agree and feel his magic work. His fingers smoothly glide across your shoulders, pressing every spot and using his thumb to massage it in circles. You feel immediate relief and lean into him more, a moan escaping your lips at the pure pleasure. He moves up to your neck and uses his thumbs to rub the back of it, and it's clear he found the spot.

You moan even louder and lean back to him, flinching as you realize what your bottom pressed against. His cock, barred only with two pieces of clothes, was firm and hard against your plush ass. You gulped nervously and looked behind you, his eyes meeting yours.

For some reason, you two are in sync and you both lean into each other, his hand on your chin as he forces you to stay looking at him. He kisses you hard and deep, his other hand on your waist to grind into his hard dick. You moan into his kiss and you're led away from the window, falling into his lap while he falls into the couch.

His grip on your face remains, but his other hand moves to go up and behind your sweatshirt, his hands roaming over your bralette and finding its way to your actual tit. He squeezes gently and you moan out loud, eyes wide open and pushed away from him in embarrassment.

"Kuai Liang! Your brothers will hear us!" you hissed, but he simply smirks and nods ahead of you.

You're met with the hazy and up-turned faces of Tomas and Bi Han, whose hands palm their clothed erections gently. You turn from the kitchen and back to the lust-hooded eyes that clouded the men's vision. You sputter fragmented sentences but are immediately shut up with Tomas's finger, and he smirks playfully as his fingers gently pass your plump lips.

Your train of thought had derailed from it's planned route, and it was headed to fuck-a-ton station.

Kuai Liang removes his hands from you and brings it to your own hands, guiding them to his brother's clothed erections. You turn back to him and gasp, Tomas's fingers leaving your mouth, but you couldn't say a word due to Bi Han grabbing your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes. There's a devilish, playful glint in his eyes, and he lets a devious smile grace his face.

"Look at me, woman. What did I tell you about eyes, hm?"

You gulp again, but you can see that he wants this as much as you. Feeling a bit confident, you palmed their covered hard-ons and watched their faces morph into relief and lust. Kuai Liang was an adventurer, his hands exploring every part of your body before settling on your tit and underneath your underwear. You moaned as you felt him circling your clit, fidgeting in his lap as he bucks into your behind to release some friction.

Impatient, you motioned to the sweat the standing men wore and asked them to take it off. Obliging, they do so and include their boxers in the clothes they're stripping. Finally free of their fabric prison, their cocks spring free and are in front of your mouth. You nervously wrap one hand around Bi Han's and press your lips on Tomas's, teasing it a bit before putting it in your mouth.

Your body was in overdrive: hand and wrist pumping Bi Han's girthy length, tongue swirling around Tomas's curved cock, and your pussy stimmed and wet with Kuai Liang's talented fingers. You moved your hips to try and get some sort of pleasure, but Bi Han's hand gripped your throat.

"Don't be so hasty now," he gently pulled you off Tomas's dick, "We're only getting started."

Your mouth was on Bi Han's cock now as hand worked on Tomas's length, pumping it up and down with a steady pace. Bi Han's hand moved from your throat and into your hair, holding it like a leash to control the speed at which you bobbed up and down. You gagged, bits of drool coming out the side of your mouth, but you were high in ecstasy and pleasure. It felt even better when Kuai Liang's fingers slipped into your pussy.

You melted immediately, his fingers curling to hit all your good spots. Kuai Liang, kept you grounded with generous kisses on your back and constant reassurance and praise. Little "good job"'s and "such a good girl" filled your ears with pride, and it made your arousal shoot through the roof. You bucked your hips on his fingers, hoping to mimic the feeling of his dick in you (though, your imagination was the only frame of reference you had).

Bi Han's pace quickens as his grip tightened in your hair. You look up briefly and see him breathing a little harder, and Tomas is doing the same as he runs his hand through his hair. You quicken your pumps and bobbing, hoping to get a release. Your hips buck even more and grind into Kuai Liang's (still clothed) cock, and you whimper for more.

Tomas chuckles darkly, mocking you with condescension in his tone, "What, you want more? You're such a lowly woman wanting three men at once."

It was a stark 360 to Tomas' usual tone and cadence. Still, you nodded and answered, humming on Bi Han's cock. Tomas looks to Kuai Liang for approval, and he nods. Kuai Liang's fingers left your cunt, not without a slap on it though, watching you jolt in shock. You pouted at Kuai Liang, who simply kisses your forehead.

"I only joke, dear," he stands up along with his brothers, "Do you want to head to the bed?"

You nod shyly, and Tomas scoops you up into his arms, bridal style as he lead the way to the bedroom of Bi Han. Your face was warm with embarrassment, and over Tomas' shoulder you see the brother's look at you with a warmth on their face. Kuai splits from the group, however, and into the bathroom on the side, leaving you at the others' mercy. Once you three made it to the door, Bi Han goes to open it and for you two.

Tomas tosses you onto the bed and crawls between your legs, mouth immediately attacking your wet cunt. You don't pull away, in fact, your hands find their way to his ash hair and want more from his talented tongue, and you moan aloud at the pleasure. You're briefly drawn out from your lust as a pair of rough hands find their way onto your tit and chin. Bi Han turned your face to him and presses your forehead against his.

"Dirty woman," he teases, "You're enjoying this more than your eyes let on when you looked at us."

You hum into his mouth as he begins to make out with you. His tongue dips into your mouth while his hand plays your nipple and tit. Gentle and playful pinches that vastly differ from the way he attacks your mouth with distress and ownership, like you belong to him. You part from him quickly as you see Kuai Liang enter the room, a towel, lotion, and some wipes in hand.

You tease him playfully hand on Bi Han's face, "What's all this for? You're cumming already?"

There's a fire in his eyes as he immediately rushes to your side, his mouth on yours to shut you up. You moan and he groans, one of your hands reaching to his cock while your other is on Bi Han's. Bi Han guides your hand to stroke his dick properly, while you pump away at his Kuai Liang's. Finally, he lets go from you and positions himself to where his cock was in front of your mouth, and you lavished in the musky taste of it. Warmth filled your mouth as you took every inch of him, another "good girl" floating into your ears.

Your eyes were about to shut close when you suddenly heard a little wrapper rip, and your eyes shot to the direction of Tomas, who was opening a condom. No wonder it felt a little empty down there. Regardless, you take Kuai's cock out of your mouth to speak to him.

Tomas looks at you with concern, "I'm opening this to simply be ready. I was actually about to ask if you were okay with me being your first? If not, I can go back to what I was doing."

Bi Han nods in agreement, "He is correct, it is your choice. We will listen to your requests."

They all look at you with anticipation, and you mutter something quietly.

"My dear, would you speak up for us?" Kuai Liang coaxes.

You stutter, but compose yourself, "I'm actually, uh, um.. I'm on birth control. You may do as you please..."

Your face was buried in your hands and your eyes peek through to see Tomas's, which have become dark with lust. He doesn't even bother with the condom and grips onto your hips, lining your opening up with his even harder dick. He taps it, and he stares at you one more time and asks for your consent.

"I trust you, Tomas," you said, "I trust all of you, so don't be afraid."

Bi Han growls, "You are going to regret that, little woman..."

Tomas pushes himself into your cunt, and you gasp at how big he truly felt inside. He gets used to your tightness, sighing in relief after he gets used to it. He slowly pumps into your pussy, and you moan into the air of the room. Bi Han takes your throat and turns you to his cock, keeping you occupied while Kuai Liang operates your body once more, hands playing your tits and nipples. Your eyes begin to roll, and the mist of lust had turned into a thick fog, making your thoughts hazy.

You let go of Bi Han's mouth and turn back to Tomas, who's still driving himself into you. Like a wolf in heat, he fucks you ruthlessly and grips onto your hips to feel more of you. He looks at you with pathetic eyes, panting and almost begging.

"Good God... I might cum soon..." he said as he closed his eyes.

Kuai Liang tapped his shoulder and whispered something to him, and they switched. You felt the emptiness begin to creep into your entrance, but after flipping you to your belly and hiking your ass up, he filled your hole again. You let out another loud moan, but Bi Han puts your mouth to better use and has you take his cock like before.

You notice Tomas just on the side of the bed, stroking himself quietly as he watches the scene unfold. The woman he loved since he laid eyes on you at the teahouse, getting spit-roasted and dirtied up, was a sight to behold.

Definitely taking note on how he might be a cuck.

Still, you loved the attention on you, and you preened in it even more as Kuai Liang praised you.

"Such a good girl," he praises, "Taking us so well... you're so tight for me, stay like this for brother, hm? Okay?"

You can only nod and Kuai Liang spanks you, watching the recoil on your body. He chuckles and grips onto the mark that was forming on your ass. He leaned down and whispered into your ear.

"Only you could take us like this. Taking me so well, you'll do the same for Bi Han right? Be a good girl for all of us."

His elder brother scoffs, "Are you done with useless chatter? If I recall, it is my turn with her, as a reward for setting her up to meet us."

Oh, it was totally a trap and you fell for it. Honestly, you'd do it again if it meant having more of them.

You whine as Kuai Liang left your cunt high and dry, not without slapping it once more. He shuffles to the side of the bed and strokes his cock at his own pace, hopefully not cumming before he had the chance on cumming on you. You look at Bi Han who was standing up, and he takes you from the bed and into his arms. You face him and realize he's planning on fucking you upright, with nowhere else to look, you watch as you sink onto his cock.

You groan and you're even wetter than before, the sound of your cunt slapping onto his skin. He turns to his brothers.

"You did not tell me she squeezed so tightly," he grips onto your ass, "You two did not lie to me, did you?"

Tomas chuckles, "If you're feeling it, are we lying?"

You chuckle at his quip, but he glares at you, slamming you down harder. Your breathing hitched and are immediately put into a state of bliss. The rhythmic patter of his balls slapping your body, the squelching of his cock in your pussy and the strokes of his brothers watching, and the moans that escaped you, it was putting Bi Han in a frenzy and he fucked into you harder. For a second, you thought you felt him go past your cervix.

"Oh God..." you whine, "I think I'm cumming... Bi Han! Tomas... Kuai Liang!"

His thrusts become more erratic, and you can hear the others shuffle to meet you where you are. Tomas's hands roam your body while Kuai Liang keeps stroking his cock while locking lips with you. Your eyes squeeze shut as you can feel yourself climax from everything happening around you.

"Oh my, leaving us out to dry?" Kuai Liang teases as he let go from your lips.

You breath heavily, Bi Han not stopping as you spoke, "Please... on my body... all of you."

Tomas chuckles, "No need to ask us twice."

Bi Han stops briefly to move you to the bed, his brothers surrounding you by your shoulders. Their groans are a harmony to your ears, and you wait patiently for them to mark you as theirs. Bi Han is the first to let go, a groan from you and him as his seed fills you up. His brothers follow suit as streaks of white cover bits of your belly, breast, and neck (surprisingly not your face). You can hear them sigh as well, the pressure of their needs finally met.

The entire ordeal left you exhausted, and you begin feeling your lids close due to the weight of said exhaustion. As you floated between sleep and cognition, you hear fragmented sentences.

"No, you clean her out like this," from Tomas.

"Did someone bring the candles?" Perhaps from Kuai Liang.

A grunt of disgust, probably from Bi Han, "You bastards, getting her all messed up like this."

You felt the coolness of a wet wipe, the rustling of sheets and clothes, and your body being gently lifted up and put into some clothes. You couldn't care due to the fact you were: a. too tired to care, and b. sleepy and already sleeping.

=====================

When you awoke, you were surrounded by each man sleeping at every side of you: Tomas using your thighs as a pillow/sleeping companion, Kuai Liang's head on your shoulder, and Bi Han's arm around your shoulder as his head touched the side of yours.

While you loved the sentiment, you noted the surroundings, especially the window. The evening sky was no longer cloudy, and the stars were clearly visible against the darkness. You looked for any sign of a clock, moving too much and waking each man.

"Is something wrong?" Tomas yawns, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, "The rain has stopped and it's late. I really should be going, thank you all for an, uh, eventful day, but I must be going and-"

Bi Han just takes you into his chest, interrupting you again.

"You talk too much," he complained, "Sleep."

Kuai Liang strokes your hair, petting your head in between to coax you to sleep. Tomas draws circles on your legs to draw you into their siren's song of slumber. You try to fight them, but it's no use as you begin to fall asleep once more.

Oh fuck it, why not get some actual sleep this time.

=====================

OMG THAT WAS SO LONG

I'm a stickler for continuity, so I do my best to introduce some sort of background before anything else. Besides, I also like world-building, so I add tidbits of stuff i make into these fics

please enjoy this lengthy ahh story, and i'll see yall in the next fic!

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

Nun Appleton House

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing Nun Appleton House. This is the 13th building for my English Collection.

I added aa garden, which is my own creation and not the original of the house.

History of the house: The hall itself is built of reddish-orange brick with ashlar dressings and a Welsh slate roof in three storeys to a rectangular floor plan. It is grade II listed and now stands in some 200 ha. of parkland.

The estate was acquired by The 1st Lord Fairfax of Cameron, a Yorkshireman with a Scottish peerage, following the Dissolution of the Monasteries, from whom it descended to The 3rd Lord Fairfax of Cameron, the well-known English Civil War commander, who built the present hall in the late 1600s.

In his time (1651) the estate was the inspiration for Andrew Marvell's Upon Appleton House, a significant country house poem. Marvell was tutor to Thomas Fairfax's daughter, Mary. After the death of Mary (who had married The 2nd Duke of Buckingham) in 1704 the estate was eventually sold in 1711 to Alderman William Milner of Leeds who carried out many alterations to the house.

His son William was created the 1st Milner Baronet, of Nun Appleton Hall in the County of York, in 1717 and was later Member of Parliament for York. The estate then descended in the Milner family until 1875, when the estate's owner, Sir William Mordaunt Milner, 6th Baronet, was more interested in gambling than looking after it.

By 1877 it had been leased to William Beckett-Denison, a wealthy Leeds banker. After the death of Sir William Milner in Cairo in 1881, his brother Frederick inherited the estate and in 1882 married Adeline, eldest daughter of William Beckett-Denison. After William Beckett's gruesome death in 1890, the Hall and estate were sold to Angus Holden, a sometime M.P. (later created Baron Holden), a woollen manufacturer from Bradford, whose ownership was somewhat brief as he died in 1912.

The hall was now empty and many of the tenanted farms were sold. The estate was put up for auction in 1914 and again in 1917 and eventually acquired by a private company which felled many of the trees but by 1919 had gone into liquidation. It was bought in 1920 by Sir Benjamin Dawson, 1st Baronet, another Bradford textile manufacturer, who was High Sheriff of Yorkshire for 1951–52. During the Second World War the hall was taken over by the London Maternity Hospital.

 When the stable block accidentally burnt down it was afterwards refurbished as a theatre and made available to the local community.

The property was bought from the last occupant, Sir Benjamin's daughter Joan Dawson, for £1.2 million in the 1980s by Humphrey Smith of the Samuel Smith brewing family. The house is now fenced off, empty, unused and deteriorating.

Video below check it out

For more info: https://www.facebook.com/story.php/?story_fbid=928431841986992&id=100044605540042&_rdr

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This house fits a 50x50 lot (I think if you lose the gaden and terrace it can fit a 50x40 too)

I furnished just the principal rooms, so you get an idea. The rest is unfurnished so you create the interiors to your taste!

Hope you like it.

You will need the usual CC I use:

all Felixandre cc

all The Jim,

SYB

Anachrosims

Regal Sims

King Falcon railing

The Golden Sanctuary

Cliffou

Dndr recolors

Harrie cc

Tuds

Lili's palace cc

Please enjoy, comment if you like it and share pictures with me if you use my creations!

Free to download blueprint: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=75230453

[honeys-hotties]

Just Business (Mapi Leon x fem!Reader)

Got a fabulous request about a businesswoman reader who is accused of being a golddigger by the team, and I juts kind of ran with it! Fyi the team are pretty mean in the beginning, especially Ingrid, but don't come at me please! I love Ingrid, she's amazingly talented! Anyways, I was so stressed and had a little bit of a writer's block but these requests have been so incredibly helpful, so keep 'em coming! Love you all endlessly<3

Word count; 3.5k

“Five more minutes” I groan into Mapi’s shoulder. She chuckles into my hair, her grip on my waist loosening as she reaches to turn off her alarm. “Sorry mi amor, I have to get ready extra early for the match today, Alexia is stressed and I promised I would do some extra warmups with her today, plus she wants me to come over and watch some film of the other team before we go to the stadium.”

I sigh, sitting up in bed, letting the covers fall down my body. “And there’s nothing I could do to convince you to stay?” I ask shifting slightly towards her. 

She smirks, moving to stand over me at the end of the bed. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Besides, you have to get ready for work.”

I sigh dramatically, reaching for one of Mapi’s hoodies to pull on. “I run the whole company, they could survive without me for one day.”

“While I’m sure that’s true, my team needs me. Te amo, princesa. I’ll see you at the game.” She kisses me firmly, and I sigh. 

“Love you too. I can’t wait for the game! Tell Alexia I say hi!” Mapi nods, smiling, and grabbing her game bag and heading for the front door. I sigh and walk to the kitchen to brew some coffee, before pulling out my laptop to check some work emails before I get ready. 

I founded my company, Herstory, when I was nineteen. It soon became one of the largest worldwide media companies, focused on giving voice to powerful women who were often minoritized in favor of their male counterparts. The company had done extremely well and I, as a result, had carved out a fabulous life for myself. However, I refused to let the money take over my life and had tried to live as normally as possible. I didn’t even fully reveal everything to Mapi for the first few months of us knowing each other, and she only put the pieces together after seeing an interview I had done online. 

Mapi and I had been dating for the past two years, and they had arguably been the best two years of my life. We had managed to keep our relationship on the down low, only letting our closest friends and family know, which ended up working out absolutely perfectly. Well, almost perfectly. For some reason that I couldn’t seem to fathom, Mapi’s friends and teammates seemed to despise me. I had first met them six months after Mapi and I had begun dating after she invited me to a party the team was having. She was so excited, telling me how much I would love every single one of the girls she considered family and how they couldn’t wait to meet me, her “stunning and brilliant” girlfriend. I had been thrilled that, even though we were choosing to keep the relationship private, Mapi was so happy to introduce me to her friends, and being a little bit of a football fan myself, I couldn’t wait to meet the amazing Barcelona team. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The night had started out okay, and everyone seemed really friendly. I was sitting next to Mapi, with Ingrid on my right and Alexia, Claudia and Patri across from me. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” Mapi had announced to the table, before turning to me. “Mi amor, what do you want?”

I pointed to my half empty glass on the table. “A refill would be amazing, thank you baby.” She smiled, grabbing my glass and walking towards the bar. Watching my girlfriend walk away, I had missed the glance Ingrid had shot Patri, but when I turned back everything seemed normal. 

“That’s a really cool tattoo!” Alexia said, gesturing to the tattoo on my shoulder blade that had been revealed when I turned to watch Mapi, the open back of my dress showing off the ink that Mapi had done a couple of weeks prior.

“Thank you!” I said. “Mapi did it a couple of weeks ago, she’s so talented I swear! Her work is absolutely stunning.”

This time, I definitely didn’t miss the looks of a few of the girls at the table, but I brushed them off.

“So, what is it exactly you do for work?” Ingrid asked, turning to look at me.

“I actually have my own business!” I said proudly. I can’t help it, I’m constantly in shock of how lucky I’ve been to be able to do what I love. However, the team seemed less than impressed. 

“That’s…really interesting,” Claudia said, before whispering something to Alexia next to her. Alexia laughed quietly before, nudging Claudia with her elbow.

“Yeah, that sounds fun.” Patri said, glancing at Ingrid who had a little smirk on her face. 

“You must work really hard, you poor thing,” Ingrid said in a sickly sweet voice. “I can’t imagine having to run my own business, especially when it’s so hard to accomplish much when you put in so much effort.”

The girls at the table around me snickered, and I could feel my face grow hot. “Um, actually-” I started, but before I could finish Mapi sat back down beside me. “Here’s your drink, gorgeous.” She said, setting the glass down in front of me. I kissed her cheek in thanks before turning back to the table. I started to say something, but before I could get the words out, Alexia interrupted me, asking Mapi something about their upcoming match. Throughout the night, I kept quiet, leaning into Mapi’s side and trying not to make eye contact with the girls around me. I couldn’t understand what I’d done wrong, but I felt like I was back in high school, hiding from the popular crowd that would always make fun of me. By the time we got back to Mapi’s apartment that night I was on the verge of tears. She took me in her arms, sensing that something was wrong but that I wasn;t ready to talk about it. We stood in her apartment for who knows how long, me crying quietly into her button-up while she just held me. That’s one of my favorite things about Mapi (I could never just pick one). She seems to know what I need without me ever having to say anything. It’s like she can read my mind, and I hers.

Finally releasing me, she gently gripped my waist with one hand and lifted my chin to look her in the eyes. “Want to tell me what’s wrong, bebe?” she asked.

I nodded, wiping the last few tears from my eyes. “I just have this horrible feeling that your friends hate me, and I don’t know why.” I whispered, before lowering my eyes again. 

She gently raised my chin again, staring into my eyes with her piercing ones. “I’m sure that’s not true, maybe they were just tired? It’s been a long week, and I don’t think anyone could ever dislike you. You’re the most brilliant, funny, wonderful, kind, smoking hot woman I’ve ever known, and they would be foolish to not see this.”

I smile up at her, my beautiful beautiful girlfriend. Her tough exterior can be misleading, but Mapi is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Maps. I love you.” I tell her, kissing her softly. 

“I’m the lucky one,” she assures me. “Now go change, I’ll run us a bath, and then we can watch some TV with Bagheera.” She reaches down to grab the cat that had been threading itself through our legs, kissing his head before placing him on the couch.

I smile, walking towards her bedroom. How did I get so lucky?

I finish getting ready for work, before grabbing my keys and my bag with the clothes I’ll wear to the game. I don’t have time to come home after work, so I had packed everything I needed in my bag the night before. On the way to work, I listen to a playlist Mapi and I had made one Saturday with all our favorites, thinking about the day ahead. Work would be easy enough, I had a couple of meetings with some division leaders within the company, and a longer conference with a few of the women we were working with to get their stories into the world. I love my job, so every day brings me joy, but days like this are my favorite. Days when I get to listen to the stories of some of the most incredible women in the world and help them share their voices. Plus, I get to go see my amazing girlfriend play professional football later, which is a bonus. The only thing I wasn’t looking forward to was interacting with the team, who had continued to be increasingly passive-aggressive towards me. Mapi assured me they were just protective, but it seemed like something much more. However, I had yet to confront anyone about it, instead choosing to focus solely on my girlfriend. 

The day passes quickly, and soon enough it’s time to get ready for the match. I change into my Mapi kit, the special one she had made for me that has the date we first met printed on the hem, as well as a number of small hearts hidden among the fabric. Discreet enough that most people wouldn’t notice, but we both knew where they were. I put on the necklace and earrings Mapi had gotten me for my birthday a few weeks before (she had gone all out for the celebration, despite my repeated insistence I didn’t need anything, and I honestly loved her for it), before applying some light makeup and heading to the stadium. I showed my pass at the front desk, and was led to the family and friends section in time to see my girlfriend and her team take the pitch. The game passed in a blur, Barcelona scoring three times in the first half. Coming into the second half, Barcelona hits the ground running, scoring within the first two minutes. This seems to anger the opposing team, and they start to play dirtier. Tackles are flying, and in the chaos Alexia goes for a wide shot, which is ultimately deflected by the opposing goalie. Mapi lines up near the goal for the corner, and once the ball is in motion she times a stunning header perfectly, sending the ball into the back of the net. I jump to my feet, screaming along with the crowd. Mapi blows a kiss in my direction, before being swarmed by her teammates. 

The rest of the game passes quickly, Alexia and Patri both scoring before full time is called. When the final whistle blows, I cheer along with the crowd as the team takes a victory lap, stopping to chat with fans along the way. As the people in the stands start to leave, I make my way down towards the pitch. Mapi meets me at the barricade, and helps me onto the pitch. Once next to her, I launch myself into her arms, my legs wrapping around her waist as she hugs me tightly. “Amazing goal, amor” I tell her, as she discreetly kisses my neck before setting me back down.

“It was for you” she assures me, before wrapping her arm around my waist and dragging me towards the rest of the team. I greet her teammates, the women giving me lackluster nods before returning to their own conversations.

“Amazing goal, Alexia!” I tell the brunette next to me. She turns to look at me, giving me a tight smile. “Gracias” she responds, before pointedly turning back to Jenni who was standing on her other side.

“That’s a pretty necklace,” Ingrid said sweetly, gesturing to the one dangling from my neck. “Where did you get it?”

“I got it for her,” Mapi said proudly. “A gem for my gem.” I blushed, curling into her to hide my warm face, laughing slightly at her joke. I however, didn’t miss Ingrid rolling her eyes and looking sharply at Patri.

“Did Mapi get those earrings for you, too?” Patri asked sharply.

“Uh yeah, she did!” I answered, turning to face the woman. “How’d you know?”

She looked at me coldly. “Just a hunch” she said, before muttering something to Jenni who let out a loud laugh. Mapi, oblivious to everything, turned to look at the stands and saw a young girl holding out a sign with mapi’s name on it.

“Aww, babe, look!” she exclaimed, tugging me towards the sign. “Let’s go say hi!” 

I pushed everything from my mind and focused on Mapi’s interaction with the young fan. She was so attentive and kind, and watching her with the young girl couldn’t help but make me think of a future with her, and maybe a little kid of our own. 

“Hey, hermosa,” Mapi said to me, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Would you mind grabbing my warmup from the girls over there so I can change into something after I give this chica my kit?”

“Of course not!” I tell her, smiling at the little girl who looked like she was about to pass out at the idea of getting Mapi Leon’s kit. “I’ll be right back!”

I jog over to the team, who is standing huddled in even closer than before. As I approach, I hear Ingrid’s angry voice. 

“-and we have to say something! This has gone on for long enough, I can’t watch her stay with that gold digging bitch any longer!”

I freeze. Inching closer to the group, they thankfully don’t seem to see me.

“Come on Ingrid, is she really that bad?” I hear another voice, belonging to Marta. “She seems to make Mapi really happy, and she honestly seems like such a sweet girl. I think you are too harsh on her.”

My blood runs cold. Me? A golddigger? I would laugh if I didn’t feel like bursting into tears.

“I think we know exactly how she’s making Mapi happy” Jenni bites out, and the girls laugh.

“Honestly, I think we need to tell Mapi sooner rather than later, it’ll help her in the long run” Alexia says, and as most of the girls agree, I clear my throat.

It’s almost comical, they way they all turn to face me. Alexia’s face drops, as do the faces of most of the other girls.

I paste on a fake smile. “Have any of you seen Mapi’s warm up jacket?” I ask. “She wants to give her kit to that little girl over there and asked me to come find the jacket for her.”

Wordlessly, Sandra hands me Mapi’s jacket. I mutter a thank you before turning to walk towards my girlfriend. I pause for a moment, then turn back around.

“Just for the record, not that it matters, but just so you all know, I’m most certainly not a golddigger. None of you even know me, not really, but the fact that this is the conclusion that you have jumped to breaks my heart. Especially because it seems to be the reason you've treated me so horribly. If you really cared about Mapi like you say you do, you would have made an effort to get to know her girlfriend instead of jumping to ridiculous accusations and high school mean girl actions.”

Ingrid scoffs. “You are a golddigger!” she shouts. “Mapi is constantly buying things for you, paying for you, and we all know you’re just using her for her money! You’ll drop her the second you get a chance and we are not about to let that happen!”

Looking at Ingrid and the team standing around her, I break. The tears start to fall, slowly at first, then all at once, and I run off of the pitch. I run off so quickly that I don’t see Mapi, who had finished with the fan and found another hoodie to wear, walking up beside the team. Ingrid had been yelling so loudly she had heard the entire speech, and she was now standing beside the team, anger taking over every feature on her face.

“What the hell did you just say to my girlfriend?” she shouts at Ingrid, the taller girl spinning to face her.

“All of you! What is wrong with you? She is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and you have all been treating her horribly!”

“We are only trying to look out for you,” Alexia says, approaching Mapi. “We don’t want you to get used or for your heart to get broken.”

Mapi backs away from Alexia. “She makes more money than I do!” she shouts. “Her business is huge! And if any of you had taken the time to get to know her, you would know that.”

One by one, the faces of everyone on the team fall. “What?” Patri asks, hoarsely.

“I can’t believe all of you. You may have just ruined the best thing in my life. I hope you’re all proud of yourselves.” Mapi says, a tear falling.

Alexia looks at her friend, then back at her team. Instantly, she knows they have to go into damage control mode. If Mapi was crying, they had really fucked up. Mapi never cried, especially not around them.

Alexia gently approached Mapi, putting her arms around the shorter girl���s shoulders. “How can we make this right?” she asked.

Back at my apartment, I changed into an old shirt of Mapi’s and a pair of shorts before grabbing a tub of ice cream and sitting down on the couch, where I planned to spend the rest of the night watching television and crying. However, my wallowing was cut short. After only two episodes of Friends, there was a knock at my door. Assuming it was Mapi, I stayed where I was. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but most of all I didn’t want to get up. I figured Mapi would unlock the door in a minute with her key, so I stayed where I was. There was another knock, before the door opened. I sighed, pausing the television, but not turning around. 

“Mapi, I’m really not in the mood to talk right now.”

“It’s, um, not Mapi.” a voice said. I turned around in shock, and saw Alexia standing by the door, the rest of the team visible behind her. I stood up, walking towards the team.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked. “And how did you even get in?”

“Mapi gave us her key,” Ingrid spoke up. “She’s on her way, but she wanted to give us a chance to apologize before she got here.”

“We can leave though, if you want?” Alexia said. “We just really wanted to tell you how sorry we are. We never meant for things to end up like this, we just got carried away in trying to protect our friend. But instead, you got hurt, and we don’t know what we can do to make it up to you.”

My eyes move over the rest of the team, and I’m shocked to find tears on Claudia’s face. Patri looks just as miserable, and Marta looks furious with her team, as does Sandra.

“I, I don’t really know what to say.” I stammer out. 

“You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want to,” Ingrid assures me. “But we brought food and games, we thought maybe we could have a game night, or maybe a movie night?” 

I sigh slightly, before smiling a little. “That sounds really nice,” I say. “Come on in!”

I can hear the sigh of relief breathed from practically everyone, and they make their way into my apartment. Alexia, Marta, Jenni and Sandra carry a number of bags and follow me to the kitchen where they start pulling out containers and boxes of food to set up. The others start setting up games in the living room, and someone obviously brought a speaker because music starts playing. I smile, looking around my house, and almost miss the knocking coming from the front door. I open it to see Mapi, holding a bouquet and looking adorable in a pajama onesie I had gotten her as a joke (I have a matching one in my closet). She peers into the apartment, and, seeing the girls behind me, breathes a huge sigh of relief. I pull her into a tight hug, and she kisses me softly. 

“I’m so, sorry sorry bebe,” she says into my hair, pulling me even tighter into her embrace. “I had no idea what was going on, but I’m so happy we sorted everything out and I can spend the night with my favorite girls.”

I grin, and, grabbing her larger hand in mine, drag her into the house. 

The night is amazing, and, as Alexia assures me, the first of many. She pulls me aside later to apologize, as do Ingrid, Patri, Claudia and Jenni. It may have been a rocky start, but I can tell that these amazing women will turn out to be some of my closest friends in the world, and they prove themselves time and time again in the years to come, how much they have changed and how much they love Mapi and I. 

[its-in-the-woods]

Down the Rabbit Hole Chapter 5

Chapter one here, two here, three here, four here

Pairing: Walton Goggins x You

Rating/Warning:  As always minor get out.  Little angst, lots of fluff, handholding,kissing

Slow build like novel damn length okay, Very Fluffy, Pinch of Angst, Relationship Development, Hurt/Comfort, Older man/ Younger(30s) women, Alternative universe, fictional work (IDK WHY BUT I AM PUTTING IT) Probably more as I go.

Synopsis: Working in film as a make-up artist is hard enough, but then Walton Goggins requests you, well it's way too easy to fall down the rabbit hole.

Note: they are both single, all for fun.

I think I may have an ending now. Posts will continue to be 2-3k long. Every other day more than likely.

*As always thank you so much for the love. I have another AU brewing, as well as some fallout stuff. So please be sure to stick around to see what's next. *

***

Three weeks go by quickly. Time always flies when you are busy. Liz has gone back to her usual snot-nose self. Basically avoiding you at all costs unless you have to swap information. Katie had also taken the same stance on things. She was much more curt and would regularly give you side eyes. It hurt. You'd always like Katie, she may not have been a friend but the cold shoulder was rough. You'd also been traveling a lot more. The nice thing was Trevor and you would share rides. If you were slated to travel south of town you'd pick him up. North and he'd pick you up. Most mornings you'd try to snooze a little on the drive. He never pushed things, not that there was anything to push. But it was still nice not to have questions about your lackluster love life. Instead, you would just talk about him and Decon. They were getting on famously and had talked about potentially moving in together. 

As for Walton, he was his usual goofy self, but there was something off. He doesn't touch you as much. No hand on your elbow, or quick cheek kisses as he leaves the trailer. He wouldn't drag his chair over to make sure he sat beside you so that he could show you something funny he found on Instagram. Instead of sitting himself a little further from everyone, he seemed to have distanced himself from most of the crew. You didn't realize how much you noticed all the little things until they were gone. You've taken to eating lunch in the makeup and hair trailer. Trevor has been hanging with Decon and the rest of the props department. As much as you enjoy the company you can't help but feel like a third wheel. So eating alone while reading a book is just easier. Plus the book took your mind off the fact that you felt a heart-sick. Even though nothing had transpired, you had been more hopeful than you had realized. 

So instead you‘re busing yourself, already lining up another show for when this one is finished, which is a huge relief. Having a show slated ahead of time can be daunting and it depends on who you vibe with more than your talent. Thankfully your name has gotten out there, untarnished by Liz and you've clicked with a few heads of departments who are happy to have you. Your year is full, you even let yourself look over apartment listings. A good half of them are way out of your price range. The other half is several cities away, and with how expensive gas is, the lower rent wouldn't matter.

You let out a sigh checking your watch. Another fifteen minutes before the trailer would be swamped with people. You briefly wonder if you could get a nap in. The last week of night shoots had worn you out. A knock on the door pushes that thought away. 

“Come on in.” You call out expecting an AD or maybe Costumes to come in.

The door opens and Walton comes in, hat and sunglasses blocking out the unusually sunny day. You felt slightly annoyed that you'd have to redo his face, and Trevor would have to unflatten his hair. Your heart speeding up pushed that out of your mind. 

“Hey, Walton.” You say, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the butterflies in your stomach along with your elevated heart rate.

“Hey, gorgeous,” He says with that wicked grin as he settles in the chair across from you. The nickname makes you straighten yourself up.

“You're a bit early. But I don't mind,” You say, reminding yourself that you need to keep your distance if you are going to make it the next few months. 

“I am actually here to ask you a question.” His hands adjust his clothing. You wonder for a moment if he is as nervous as you are. The morning from nearly a month ago playing out, the thought of him full of jittery energy as you sat with him. 

“Oh?” You ask, taking a sip from your water bottle to hide your smile.

“Would you like to come out for dinner with me?” 

You worry at your lip for a moment. The man had barely spoken to you for almost a month and now was suddenly asking you out. It really didn’t make much sense. 

“Sure, who else is going?” You ask, having convinced yourself that he must have arranged a get-together like the weekend previously. There was not a snowflake in hell chance he was asking you on a date.

He looks down at his hands fiddling with his watch and taking off his shades to look at you. “Was kind of hoping it would be just the two of us,” 

Now your face is flushed, was this happening? “Oh- umm- like a date?”

Walton's cheeks turn pink and he rubs the back of his neck. Damn, you'd missed how bashful he'd get about you. “Yeah, a date. There's a sushi place close to me that I've been wanting to go to.”

“I would love that,” the words fall out of your mouth before you even have time to think. He grinned, his whole face lighting up, making the monetary lack of judgment worth it.

“Could I pick you up at your place around seven?”

You have a smile breaking across your face. “Now here I was worried about giving some ‘random man’ my address.”

His hundred-watt smile lights you up and you are half tempted to go kiss the dang fool. “I promise to only drive by a few times.”

The door opens and Trevor is coming in. You swore the man had both the best and worst timing. 

“Hey, you.” His face changes as he sees Walton. If thought bubbles were real you were certain ‘oh shit’ would have hung over his head. “I seem to have excellent timing interrupting you both.”

“No, you're good,” Walton waves his hand at him, a small smirk still pulling at his lips. “Was just ready to get myself looking good for the next scene.”

***

Trevor has been trying unsuccessfully to get you to spill the beans. But you refuse to tell him anywhere near where people could overhear you both. You'd rather avoid any more scoldings from Liz. The last thing you wanted was for her to get even more pissed off than she already was.

The day is finally done, and you're anxious to get home and change. Trevor follows you to the parking lot chattering about his plans with Decon. You can tell it's taking everything in him not to pester you for more details. 

“So are you going to tell me? Or do I need to follow you home?” He finally gives in. Part of you doesn't want to tell him, the rumor mill could feed itself. But this was Trevor, someone who you actually liked as a friend. He wasn't going to spill the beans on you.

You sigh, unlocking your car and dropping your purse into the front seat “I am just going out for dinner.”

Trevor's face lights up, and he all but screeches, “Really!?” 

You tap his shoulder and he immediately calms down. Looking around you are relieved no one seems to have heard his excited chatter.

“Really, you're actually going out on a date with Walton?” The man is so excited he is vibrating. He may be more excited than you are.

You do your best not to laugh at him “Yes, we are, the first date. It's nothing serious, just going to eat sushi.”

Trevor's eyebrows narrowed, confusion gracing his face.“Wait. It’s your first date?”

You turn back to eyebrows scrunched, “Yeah. He's barely spoken to me until today.”

Trevor looks surprised, “Wait. Hold on. I thought you two had just taken things” He makes indistinguishable hand motions. “Outside office hours.”

“What? No. He's practically avoided me since I broke down a month ago.” You are shocked that he hadn't asked about this before. 

“Holy hell. It took him that long to get it together.” 

You groan looking at your watch. “Stop it. I have to get going. Please don't tell anyone.”

Trevor made the zipper motion over his lips. “But you better text me when you get home. I want all the details.”

You roll your eyes but nod as you finally get in the car. Knowing full well you'd have a novel worth of text to read by the end of the evening.

***

Once home you jump in the shower. Braiding your hair like Trevor had taught you, two braids on either side meeting in the middle and down the back. Mascara, eyeliner, and some tinted moisturizer go on. It’s quick and simple but does the job. Once you are mostly dry you move over to your stand-up wardrobe. You curse at the fact that eighty percent of your clothes are either black or stained.  Throwing caution to the wind you find a pair of black denim jeans and loose loose-fitting purple top. It's not like you're walking the red carpet. You wanted cute but functional. Digging around you're surprised when you find a pair of non-scuffed boots. They fit relatively well and shouldn’t give you blisters if you end up going for a walk.

A black handbag is filled with bits and bobs. Lip Chap, hair elastic, wallet, phone, a charging cable, a small container with Tylenol, mints, and ginger tablets. You also grab a black leather jacket that's light enough to carry but warm enough to protect you from the evening winds.  Years of running on fumes have taught you how to move quickly and travel lightly. Most of the time problems could be solved with what was on hand.

A few deep breaths and affirmative thoughts and you feel significantly better. It was going to be a good evening you repeated to yourself. Phone buzzing, you grab it out of your bag.

“Just downstairs.”

You quickly reply that you're ‘Coming downstairs’ 

Grabbing your keys you lock up and head out. Trying to calm your mind as you rush down the stairs. It was just a dinner date, sushi, and some chatting. Just because you haven't been on a date for almost six years doesn't mean you need to be full of anxiety. 

Being single and working in film meant you either dated folks who also worked in film or you didn't date. Unfortunately, you didn't have a bisexual bone in your body. Not to mention that most men that seemed interested were, well, slimy. So you had given up the ghost and thrown yourself at work. Now here you were walking down the hallway to get picked up by a man. Not just any man either, Walton Goggins, a man that could pull anyone and he had certainly pulled you. It felt a little surreal and frightening.

You stop at the door and try to still your mind. Then you push through and he is parked right outside. Leaning against his vehicle like he doesn't have care in the world. He's wearing a loose-fitting navy shirt, several buttons undone at the collar, with black pants, sunglasses, and a hat. Walton’s face breaks into a crooked grin when he sees you, his body unfurling as you come closer. You'd be lying if you didn't want to find out what was under that shirt.

“Well, aren't you looking good?” He says licking his lips and watching you come towards the vehicle.

You blush as you meet his shade covered eyes. “Not too bad yourself.”

He chuckles, and opens the door, “After you, m’lady” 

The drive is relatively short, being later in the evening meant that most traffic was gone. You both chat about the week, minor set annoyances, and future plans. Walton’s hand never leaves yours, his eyes occasionally glancing over at you. If he had asked you to just drive around you would have agreed. Walton parks the car in the parkade, and the two of you get out. He laces his fingers in yours as you walk down the sidewalk. 

The sushi place is tucked back off the main street in an old historical building. The sign is worn and the door hasn’t been painted in years. It was going to be good food. The server places you both in a booth in the back corner of a relatively empty space. The lights are dim and it feels cozy. You two sit beside each other and look over the menu. 

“Have you ever had Takoyak?” He asks, pointing at some deep-fried balls on the menu.  

“No, I haven’t. They are squid right?” You ask.

“Yes, they are delicious. I would recommend them, oh and okonomiyaki.” The fact that he can pronounce half of the words is impressive. 

“Do you want to share a few things?” 

“I think that is a marvelous idea.” 

The two of you order a table full of various goodies and some Saki. You share them and talk about the different foods you’ve tried. You remember vaguely the discussion you had a month ago, and he fills in on some of the more foggy details. You have no idea how long the two of you had sat there, most of the food has disappeared and you’ve found yourself thigh to thigh with the man. You lean back and hum, feeling slightly overstuffed and most definitely sleepy. 

“You worn out?” He says, his hand tracing patterns on your knee.

“Mmm, a little bit,” You lean your head against his shoulder, he’s warm and you can’t help how comfortable you feel. 

“Why don’t we get out of here?” He says quietly kissing the top of your head.

You nodded in agreement, really you’d go anywhere he’d want to go.

Outside the cool night has settled in, and you shiver slightly, tucking yourself into your jacket. Walton grabs your hand and leads you down the way. Around the corner, there is a little path that leads down to the ocean. Once there you both stumble down the sand until you find some driftwood to sit on. Looking back toward the lights of downtown. 

“The city is so beautiful at night,” He says, hands still holding yours.”All the lights reflect off the mountains and the seas. Looks like a painting.”

You wiggle yourself down the piece of wood so you’re resting against him, Watching his eyes sparkle as he looks at the light. Walton turns to you, watching your face, eyes going down to your lips before back up to your eyes. 

You take the hint and lean into him, finally, kissing him. It feels like it’s taken so long to get here, your heart is racing and you can’t help but let yourself linger. He pushes back against you, hand coming up to hold your face. It’s over so fast. He pulls back, and you just look at him. Sharp jawline covered in stubble, slanted nose, kiss redden lips, eyes watching you. 

“I want to kiss you again,” He says breathlessly, so you lean in scooting and push up against him, legs slotting between each other. You can taste the sushi and saki. If this damn man pulls away again you are going to lose your mind. But he does, you’re both breathless like two teenagers. 

“It’s been a lovely night,’ He hushes his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “I wish I could stay out here with you all night.”

You smile at him snuggling closer. The two of you wrapped around each other watching the night sky. Large freight ships move in and out of the harbor, cars drive past, and other couples wander by. It’s peaceful in its own way, just the two of you holding hands and stealing kisses. You want to ask him to go back to his place. Wanting to make the first move, but you hold off.  Taking things slow, and steady. It was after all your first date. 

***

Chapter six

**As always thank you all so much for the love. If you'd like to be tagged for future chapters let me know! Comments, like, reblog fill the void of my writer's cold dead soul. **

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

https://www.tumblr.com/reflections-in-a-critical-eye/765398033140678656/when-jimins-health-insurance-documents-got-leaked?source=share

Yes they took the blame. If i remember correctly the staff was exposed for using DC galleries on one of ot7 lives and the same staff also used a name for jimin that antis use against him (in DC or general ig) in that Bangtan bomb after their white day speec live they did. It was again pjms who tagged the company to remove that name from subtitles and after hrs of tagging they removed that name. I remember correctly it was started by a korean pjm and army started saying that solo do too much and it's nothing serious but them k-pjms said that the term is used in derogatory way for jm and staff is using same for him so they WILL tag company to remove it and after hrs of doing so they removed it because them losers knows what they were doing. Mind you no ot7s helped at that time too. They Hardly do like when the issue gets bigger till then they'll drag jm's fans saying they baby him lol. Also you might know that last year (even this ig) pjms were sending trucks to hybe? One of the requests was to protect him from malicious rumours spread against him, the template literally says "DC gallery hate" but everyone is turning on his fans when they were the only ones who sent truck to take down the DC galleries.

God when is he getting free from this? The article says "hybe allowing hate brewing against jimin and jungkook" but you have jk's solos turning it against jm and KTHs joining them and of course armys will be in frontline too.

That's right, I remember it all now. I know when I was watching that live and people noticed that staff in oner corner using dc gall. There was a lot of noise back then, but who would have thought it would get much worse?

As to the fandom's reaction, they take any opportunity to turn it against Jimin as usual.

Everything that is being revealed now is more or less confirmation of what has been suspected for a long time. I just wonder what will be the tipping point and if hybe will actually suffer some real consequences or everyone will move on while fans will still send trucks, write petitions, block accounts. And then repeat the same action every day but with no actual result.

[kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings]

Hi there! I saw that you ask for request about the demons, so I'm here to request for Gyutaro with a S/O who wants to have a tea party with him.

That's it, hope you have a good day!

Hoi! Thank you for requesting (^0^.) And for requesting Gyutaro too, I've not written anything for him yet so I hope I got him right.

I hope you enjoy these headcanons ☆彡 My askbox is always open if you want to slide anything my way - e.g. questions, personal headcanons, request etc. - and if you have the time.

Gyutaro with an S/O who wants a tea party with Him - Headcanons:

You want a what? A tea party? With him???

Surprisingly it takes very little to convince him to join you for one - He's always been weak to your pouty lips and watery doe eyes

A day chosen and blocked out in both of your schedules

And when he first arrives, Gyutaro stands awkwardly in your kitchen doorway not knowing where you wantd him to be until you usher him with your soft voice and hands and force him down in a comfortable cushioned chair across from yours

"You've really gone all out,huh?" He grumbles, looking at the large round table filled with serving stands and a pretty teapot with matching cups + saucers

One serving stand with four tiers, holding different types of sandwiches - Noting the range of flavours you've made (Cheese. Ham + Mayo, Tuna Mayo, Egg Cress to name a few)

Another filled with cakes and one of scones with clotted cream and jam - strawberry Gyutaro notes with a wrinkle of his nose

As well as pastries, petits-fours, biscuits and cookies

Won't admit it but he does have a sweettooth - Eyeing up the tiers that contain a large variety of cakes, biscuits and cookies - already picking the order of what sweet-thing to eat first

A whine parting his lips when with a wiggle of your brows - and that stunning smile of yours - you piled his plate with sweet goodies

You'd even gone all out with the teas! Having brewed three different types - Earl Grey, Ginger with Honey and Lavender

"There's and order to drinking the tea Gyutaro!" You said, excitedly filling up his cup with one of them "We have to save the Lavender for last as it's meant to be soothing and the perfect drink for nerves"

Gyutaro followed your order, sniffing each type of tea before drinking - nose wrinkling in disgust at the strong smell of the ginger although it tasted nice with honey

You'd even brought card and board games as entertainment!

While tea parties are meant to last about 2-3 hours long, this tea party lasted for 4 hours

Simply enjoying each others company

Letting the comforting sounds of your home - of the nature outside and the sound of rain - sink into the foundations

And when you both did speak, it was calmly and relaxed

"Lets....Lets do this again," Gyutaro murmurs into his cup, form hunching over in fear of rejection "I enjoyed this....."

Gyutaro's heart skips a beat when you joyful agree - his lips wobbling up into a smile back as a shy giggle bubbles in his chest

And thus, a tradition was born for you both

[stnkiconverse]

you're going to do it, and you're getting away with it. you know that.

Ch.1 - The Calm Before The Storm

Next ⇢

genre: psychological horror (in a way), creepypasta, supernatural thriller (in a way)

pairing: none. (yet ;) )

wc: 1.5k

content warnings: echoes in the static contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers, including: graphic violence and murder, mental illness and psychological distress, suicide and self-harm, domestic abuse and strong language.

Reader discretion is advised.

Yes this has to do with Creepypastas. Yes, Creepypastas wil pop up and make appearances, it's basically a reader insert into the Creepypasta word.

do not repost my work anywhere, I only post in Tumblr.

The small city of Greenville, Alabama, was waking up to another mundane day, but not you. Not today. Today was different. The peaceful façade of your life as a fresh college graduate working in a tiny flower shop was just that – a façade. Behind it lurked a storm, one that had been brewing ever since your mother’s death.

Greenville was a quaint place, where everyone knew everyone else, and secrets were hard to keep. But you had a secret, a dark one. Your mother’s tragic end had shattered your world, and the man responsible, your stepfather, continued his life unscathed. He was a police officer, respected by many, but you knew the truth. He was a monster, and you’re going to stop him.

---

The flower shop was your sanctuary. “Petals and Posies” was a small but charming establishment, filled with the fragrance of fresh blooms. You lost yourself in the simple tasks of arranging flowers and tending to customers. The shop's front area displayed packets of flower seeds, inviting customers to start their own gardens. Along the side walls, ready-made bouquets sat in neat rows, a burst of colors and fragrances that never failed to lift your spirits. Customers could choose to customize their bouquets with the help of one of the two employees, either you or your colleague, Lisa.

Lisa was a warm and friendly presence in the shop, always ready with a smile and a kind word. You appreciated her company, though you often found solace in the quiet moments when the shop was empty, and you could immerse yourself in your work. Next to the employee desk stood a stand with various bouquet wraps, allowing customers to add a personal touch to their floral arrangements. The shop was small, but it had a steady stream of clients, enough to keep it alive and provide you with a modest living.

Your apartment was just a few blocks away, a small but cozy place that you had made your own. It was a simple one-bedroom unit, but you had decorated it with care. The walls were adorned with framed prints of your favorite paintings, and the shelves were filled with books that offered an escape from reality. Your bedroom window overlooked a small park, and you often found yourself gazing out at the trees swaying gently in the breeze, finding a momentary sense of peace.

---

Weekends were spent visiting your mother, a routine you cherished. She lived with Frank in a modest home on the outskirts of Greenville. It was a place filled with memories, both good and bad. Your mother, Anna, had always been your rock, your confidant. She was a kind and cheerful woman, always seeing the good in people. You admired her strength and the joy she brought into your life. During your college years, she met Frank, a man who seemed to offer her the love and companionship she deserved. They married while you were away at school, and for a while, it seemed she had found happiness.

Your mother’s house was warm and welcoming, a stark contrast to the man who lived there with her. The living room was filled with family photos, mementos of happier times. The kitchen was Anna’s domain, where she spent hours cooking and baking, her laughter filling the air. You loved these visits, the chance to reconnect with your mother and escape the loneliness of your apartment.

But the happiness was short-lived. It was during one of these visits that you first noticed the bruises. They were faint, barely visible, but they were there. As you helped your mother prepare dinner, you noticed the slight wince as she lifted a pot, the dark shadows on her wrists that she tried to hide with long sleeves.

---

“Mom, what happened to your arm?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual, though your heart was pounding.

Anna glanced down at the bruise and quickly pulled her sleeve down. “Oh, it’s nothing, dear. I just bumped into the doorframe,” she said with a forced smile.

Before you could press further, Frank walked into the kitchen, his presence immediately changing the atmosphere. He was a tall, imposing man with a perpetual scowl etched on his face. The air seemed to thicken with tension whenever he was around.

“Everything okay in here?” he asked, his voice gruff.

You forced a smile. “Yes, just helping Mom with dinner.”

Frank grunted and walked to the fridge, grabbing a beer before heading back to the living room. You watched him go, a knot forming in your stomach. There was something off about him, something that made your skin crawl.

You decided not to push your mother further that evening, but the image of those bruises stayed with you. Over the next few weeks, you visited more often, trying to spend as much time with her as possible. You suggested outings, hoping to get her away from Frank’s oppressive presence. Sometimes she agreed, and for a few hours, you saw glimpses of the cheerful woman you knew. But other times, she declined, her eyes filled with a sadness she couldn’t hide.

---

It wasn’t long before things took a turn for the worse. Your mother stopped answering your calls. When you did manage to see her, she looked more tired and emaciated each time. The once vibrant woman was now a hollow shell, her spirit crushed under the weight of Frank’s abuse. She had stopped eating, her clothes hanging loosely on her frail frame. Her eyes, once full of life, were now dull and lifeless.

You tried to talk to her, to get her to open up about what was happening, but she remained silent. The fear in her eyes spoke volumes, though, and you knew she was hiding something terrible. Frank’s behavior grew more erratic, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. You witnessed him yelling at your mother, his face twisted in anger, while she stood there, her head bowed, taking the verbal abuse without a word.

One day, you arrived at her house to find it eerily quiet. Your heart raced as you searched room after room, finally finding her in the bedroom. She was lying on the bed, her face pale and lifeless. An empty bottle of pills lay on the nightstand, and a crumpled note was clutched in her hand.

With trembling hands, you unfolded the note. It was brief but devastating: “I can’t take it anymore. He’s taken everything from me. Forgive me.”

---

Your world shattered in an instant. The grief was overwhelming, but what fueled your rage was Frank’s reaction. He showed no remorse, quickly moving on as if your mother’s life had meant nothing. The day of her funeral, you saw him laughing with another woman, and something inside you snapped. The seed of revenge was planted, and it grew with each passing day.

---

The day of the funeral was overcast, fitting the somber mood. The cemetery was filled with friends and family, all gathered to pay their respects to your mother. You stood by the grave, numb with grief, as the preacher said the final words. You barely heard them, lost in your own thoughts.

You recalled the earlier years with your mother, the warmth and laughter that once filled your home. She had been your everything, the one person who understood you completely. As you stood there, the memories of her gentle touch and kind words played in your mind, a stark contrast to the cold reality of her absence.

As the service concluded, you watched the mourners drift away, leaving you alone by the freshly turned earth. Your mother’s coffin was lowered into the ground, and you felt a part of yourself go with her. The weight of your grief pressed down on you, but so did something else – a cold, calculated resolve.

You watched as Frank, dressed in his police uniform, walked towards his car. His face was a mask of indifference, as if the death of his wife meant nothing to him. A woman was waiting for him, someone you didn’t recognize. She smiled as he approached, and your stomach turned.

Frank got into the car and leaned over to kiss her. The sight was like a punch to the gut. The betrayal, the callousness, it was all too much. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to keep your composure. But inside, something snapped.

It was then that you knew, with absolute certainty, that you were going to get rid of him. He didn’t deserve to walk away unscathed. He had to pay for what he had done to your mother. And you were going to make sure of it.

As you turned away from the cemetery, a new resolve filled you. This was just the beginning. The storm was coming, and you were ready to unleash it.

banners by: @drizztdohurtin

Taglist is open, ask to be added.

🏷️: @mimmickmouse @stranger-of-the-internet

[chaosbarelycontained]

I Don’t Care For Your Attitude

North Country Boy Chapter 7

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x AFAB!OC

TW: Swearing, fighting

Words: 3.1k

Synopsis: Jules and Ghost butt heads over an upcoming mission and young Jules fights for Simon’s honour.

Scribbling some notes down on her virtual notepad, Jules used a hand gesture to continue her flyover of the northern reaches of Dushikistan, a tiny country in the Pamir Mountains. The terrain was harsh and yet beautiful, with rolling steppes giving way to towering peaks crowned white with snow.

Sandy-coloured yurts and small brick buildings were well camouflaged against the rocky ground but, as Jules focussed in on one particular valley, more and more became visible. She hovered over the area for a few more minutes before her view changed and the camera panned between two cliff faces and across to an ancient fortress that, to the untrained eye, seemed ruined and abandoned. Jules double-tapped her thumb and middle finger together and the image enlarged. Staring at the ground around the fortress she finally saw the confirmation she needed in the subtle tyre marks that surrounded the structure.

“Gotcha,” she muttered, making a few screenshots and altering the contrast so that the tracks were more visible.

Checking the time in the bottom left of her viewscreen she was relieved to see she still had fifteen minutes until Price’s briefing so she pinged the information she’d collated across to her tablet and stashed her headset on its charger dock. Her emerald grey beret found its place back on her head and she tucked her tablet into her trouser pocket. She meticulously checked that every piece of equipment was logged off and shut down before exiting the room and locking the door.

On her way back over to the small barracks building she’d come to call home, Jules heard a whistle. She turned to find Roach jogging to catch up with her and she slowed her pace so that he could fall into step beside her.

“Alright, Tiger?” he asked genially, “whatcha been up to?”

“Just finalising some intel for the briefing. You?”

“Watching Ghost beast the rookies,” he snickered. “I would have helped but it was too entertaining. I think one of ‘em might have actually shit his pants.”

Jules gave a derisive snort. “The SAS selection process must be seriously lackin’ if they’re findin’ the Hallowe'en Drama Queen that terrifyin’.”

Roach faced her with an expression of concerned bemusement. “What the fuck do they feed you in Manchester? You’re all fucking bonkers. Just make sure you don’t say that to his face.”

“I would if he’d ever show it, an’ if he tried somethin’ again I’d knock his fuckin’ block off,” she tutted, rolling her eyes.

The smile that had been brewing on Roach’s face rapidly vanished as he glanced behind Jules. He blanched, swallowing thickly, and cast his eyes to the ground. Jules’ stomach threatened to drop out of her arse as she sensed the hulking presence behind them draw ever closer but it was caught by the net of her fury and she managed to maintain her poise, raising her chin arrogantly as the Lieutenant stalked past them.

“Ya could try, Sergeant, but yer too short to reach,” he rumbled, without a backward glance.

“That was…tame,” Roach muttered out of the corner of his mouth. “Just make sure you don’t go anywhere alone for the next few days.”

Jules sucked in a breath, ready to respond, but then caught the teasing glint in Roach’s eye and the smirk that grew in the corner of his mouth.

“Dickhead,” she chuckled, nudging his shoulder.

They weren’t the last to reach the briefing room, Soap followed along close behind them, and the entirety of Bravo Company was seated before the briefing was due to start. Price gave a run down of what they already knew and then gestured to Jules with an upturned palm.

“Our resident recon specialist has been working on locations. What’ve you got for us, Tiger?”

Jules stood and pressed the remote that turned on the large screen fixed to one of the walls, making sure it mirrored her tablet. She projected the flyover of the valleys that she’d been searching earlier, and then made the video freeze on an image of the fortress.

“There’s an old fortress just outside this village. Looks abandoned but there’s vehicle marks around it. Too many for somethin’ so far away from tourist trails. That’s where they’re hidin’.”

“Sounds promising,” Price nodded his approval. “Ghost, what d’you reckon?”

The Lieutenant dragged his eyes away from the screen to face his Captain.

“Looks like a fairly simple op to me. In and out. Get Delta Company in to clean up.” He jerked his chin upward, already expecting everyone to concur.

“Agreed,” Price said. “Soap, you’re…sorry Sergeant Kelsall, you got something to add?” he raised his eyebrow at the sound of Jules clearing her throat.

“Yeah, it’s the locals, Sir,” she said, mentally steeling herself against the Captain’s laser-sharp scrutiny. “It’s too much of a risk to them if we go mob-handed an’ all guns blazin’.”

“Negative, Captain.” Ghost interjected as he planted his feet more firmly on the floor and folded his arms across his chest. “The intel we’d gain is worth the potential casualties.”

Jules planted her hands on her hips and shook her head. “I have to disagree. These people aren’t involved with this organisation. They need to be protected as much as possible.”

Ghost let out a derive scoff and rolled his eyes. “Just what we needed,” he tutted. “A bleedin’ heart sympathist. We’ve got a job to do.”

Jules turned her head slowly and glared at Ghost with thinly veiled contempt.

“If ye weren’t my Lieutenant I’d call you a cunt,” she snapped, ignoring the snorts of amused disbelief from the rest of the squad. “It’s nothin’ to do wi’ that. If I thought the juice was worth the squeeze I’d say go for it, but it's not.”

She tapped on her tablet a few times and the display on the large screen behind the Captain changed to a view of the settlement. “These villagers have been feeding us intel for months. They don’t trust easily. If we put them in harm’s way then they’ll never let us back in and we’ll have lost a valuable source.”

“You’ve got a fair point there Tiger,” Price admitted, ponderously. “What do you suggest?”

“We need to be subtle about it,” Jules pressed. “There’s an abandoned settlement in the next valley. I can contact our guys closest to the area, get a base set up, an’ then we can recce from there.” She went to tap on her tablet again but paused and looked at Price. “If you don’t mind, Sir, I took the liberty of writin’ up a plan.”

“Go for it,” he nodded.

Jules pinged the mission overview onto the large screen so that everyone could read the details. There were mutterings of agreement from the rest of Bravo Company, and even Ghost raised his eyebrow in surprise at the detail in Jules’ work.

“Alright Tiger, you’ve got me convinced,” Price said, stroking his hand across his beard. “Get in touch with your contact and get the ops base sorted. I’ll have a look over this in more detail and we’ll reconvene at 1600hrs to finalise. Johnny, Roach, you’re the kit men. Gaz, get onto transport. I want to be in the air by 0800 tomorrow.

There was a chorus of “affirmitive”, “aye, Sir,” and “on it,” from the squad.

With a nod from Price, the three teammates were dismissed to their various tasks, leaving the Captain with his Lieutenant and Jules, who had returned to her tablet and was tapping away distractedly.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any way of seeing inside that fortress, Kelsall? A floor plan or something?” Price asked.

“Just sent you over the schematics, Sir,” she said, the corner of her mouth twisting up into a smile as glanced up from her screen.

“Do I want to know how you managed to get your hands on those?”

“Prob’ly not,” she admitted, “but if y’get a call from the Dushiki Government archives just act natural.”

Price snickered and appraised the Sergeant with growing affection, the glow from her tablet picking out the frown of concentration on her face. He looked across at Ghost then, who had been characteristically silent since his earlier snarky comments to Jules, and was surprised to see an expression of outright admiration on the face of the usually stoic soldier.

Speaking aloud, as if he hadn’t seen a thing, Price walked around the table to his own tablet, picking it up and scanning the information displayed there.

“Gonna put Johnny and Roach on perimeter, Gaz can take the East side with me so that leaves you two on the West.”

Jules looked up sharply, barely managing to school her face into something resembling blandess.

“Is that gonna be a problem?” Price asked, looking at Jules but addressing both of them.

“Not fer me, Sir,” she gritted.

“Ghost?” Price tried, but his second in command was still lost in his reverie. “Hey…Lieutenant.”

Ghost almost jumped, his eyes flying to Price as his brain registered the question.

“Negative,” he finally replied. “No problems here.”

“Good, get on with it then,” Price dismissed them and turned his attention back to his tablet as he rubbed his fingers over his moustache and muttered under his breath.

Jules nodded her acknowledgement and made her way through the door, her pace slower than normal as she continued to read her screen, but she stiffened as she heard Ghost’s voice calling to her.

“Hold up Ju-Sergeant,” he corrected himself.

“What?” She said abruptly, barely sparing him a glance.

“Bit out of your pay grade, to come up with a deployment plan, innit? Then again, once a swot…” There was a teasing tone to his words that Jules immediately interpreted as mockery.

“Maybe in this squad,” she replied, her face growing flush, “but in the SRR we were expected to contribute.”

“We’re not the SRR.”

“That’s painfully obvious,” she snarked back, one hand resting on her hip as she pointedly looked him up and down.

Ghost huffed out a sigh and scratched at the back of his neck. “Look, do you need me to check-”

“Check my work?” Jules said incredulously. “Nice t’know y’ve got confidence in your team, Lieutenant. Would y’ve asked Gaz that? Or Soap? Didn’t think so.”

“I didn't mean it like that,” he tried.

“Yeah ye did. Is it because you think you know me? ‘Cause if it is then you thought wrong. I’ve been doin’ this shit for nearly ten years an’ I ain’t had any complaints about ma deployment prep so far.”

“No, just about yer ability to follow orders. Yer file said as much.” He couldn’t help but push her just that little bit further.

“Oh, ya can read? Clever lad. For a while there y’had me wonderin’. Now I know you just ignored ma letters an’ messages on purpose,” she seethed with her jaw set.

She was furious once more and the act of trying to keep it bottled up inside made her chin tremble and her eyes began to water even as they flashed with anger. Not wanting him to think he’d made her cry, Jules turned on her heel and stalked off down the corridor towards the mess.

“I read ‘em all,” he muttered quietly, but she’d already retreated too far away to hear him.

Slipping into the seemingly empty mess, Jules rested her back against the wall and sniffled loudly. Frustrated with herself for letting her emotions get the better of her, she wiped away an errant tear with the back of her hand and took a shaky breath. The door beside opened once more and Jules steeled herself for another confrontation with the Lieutenant but it was Gaz who entered. He started at the sight of her, clearly not expecting anyone to be there, but then his expression changed into one of concern as he noticed her red-rimmed eyes.

“What’s happened?” he asked gently, which only served to encourage another tear to slip down Jules’s cheek.

“Nothin’ really,” she shrugged, swiping away the evidence of her emotions. “I’m not upset, I’m-” She let out a dry chuckle at Gaz’s obvious disbelief. “I’m not! I’m actually fumin’. This is just anger leakin’ out of my eyes,” she gestured to her face.

“Let me guess…” Gaz began, folding his arms across his chest and tilting his now-frowning face cockily towards her in a passable impression of Ghost.

His tactic worked and Jules began to laugh in earnest.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Can’t ever let ‘em see you cry though. They might think you actually care.”

“Come here,” Gaz said, slinging his arm around her shoulder and squeezing tightly. “Chin up, you’ve got this. Just try not to deck him again, yeah?”

* * * * *

It was almost dark by the time Jules made it out of the computer rooms at college but Rachel still waited for her by the entrance. A cold wind whipped around her legs and she pulled her coat tighter across her chest, her head bowed down as she hooked her arm through Rachel’s and tugged her friend towards the bus stop.

“You comin’ to mine?” she asked but Rachel replied in the negative.

“Nah, I can’t tonight. I gotta pick our Gary up from the childminder’s.”

“Fair enough,” Jules said, pulling a face.

“Oi, Kelsall,” a harsh voice squawked and Jules turned to find a small gaggle of girls stalking towards them.

Squinting her eyes against the wind she realised all too soon who had called her name.

“Givin’ me dirties now too eh? Cheeky bitch,” Debbie snapped, coming to stand before Jules, her hip popped and her head tilted to the side as she crossed her arms under her chest.

“Alright Debbie? What’s up?” Jules tried warily.

“What’s up? I’ll tell yeh what’s up, yeh little slag…” Her head bobbed aggressively as she gesticulated wildly.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Jules interrupted, holding up her hands. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on but yer not talkin’ to me like that.”

“I’ll talk to yeh however I want seein’ as yeh think it’s ok to shag mi fella behind mi back.”

“Hang on a minute,” Rachel interjected. “What fella? You don’t mean Simon do yeh?”

“Who else would I mean? This little tart’s been ‘anging after ‘im fer ages. It’s pathetic,” Debbie sneered.

“You shagged Simon Riley?!” Rachel exclaimed, turning to Jules with a look of excitement and surprise.

“No, I didn’t,” Jules hissed, “we just…messed around a bit after the taxi dropped us off last week.”

“Get in,” Rachel grinned, giving Jules a high five.

“That’s not what I heard,” Debbie snapped, stepping closer to Jules. “You were all over ‘im like a rash. You need tuh find yer own fella an’ leave mine alone, fuckin’ slag.”

“Alright, that’s enough.’ Jules said, her voice low and even as she squared up to Debbie, staring her straight in the eye. “Number one, I’m not shaggin’ Simon bloody Riley, and number two, even if I were it wouldn’t matter coz he ain’t your fella anyway. He sacked you off coz you let Skinny Mike get in your knickers round the back of the chippy. Everyone knows so there’s no point in tryin’ to say it didn’t ‘appen. Just fuck off and leave me alone.”

With one last, angry glare, Jules turned her back to Debbie and, grabbing Rachel’s arm again, began to stride away.

“You know what?” Debbie called after her, her voice laced with malice. “Yer welcome to ‘im, he’s a scrubber anyway with his cheap shit clothes and fake trainers. He’s got that many bruises, I bet he’s a skag-head.”

Jules froze for a split second, just long enough for Rachel to tighten her hold on her elbow before she was turning once more. Ripping her arm out of her friend’s grip, Jules tore across the pavement and launched herself at the grinning girl, whose eyes widened in surprise at the ferocity of Jules’ attack.

“Say that again.” Jules screeched. “Say it again, I fuckin’ DARE you.”

The two girls scrabbled on the floor in a mess of flying fists and clawed fingers. Blood was smeared across both their faces by the time their mates managed to tear them apart and Debbie was dragged away surrounded by her gaggle. Jules tried to go after her but Rachel’s arm around her heaving shoulders was enough to cause her to halt. She spat after Debbie’s retreating back and then raised a hand to probe at a tender spot on her temple.

“She didn’t get any of mi hair, did she?” Jules asked sheepishly.

“Nah, mate,” but yer gonna have a few decent bruises tomorrow.”

“I’m not cryin’, you know,” Jules sniffled, wiping the back of her hand gingerly across her eyes.

“I know,” Rachel nodded.

“I’m just fumin’.”

“I know,” Rachel said again, a broad grin slowly creeping across her face. “You know what else though?”

“What?”

“You snogged Simon Riley.”

“Yeah I did,” Jules began to giggle, which turned into a laugh and, by the time the bus arrived the two girls were crying together, arms wrapped so tightly around their bellies they could barely put their clipper cards into the machine.

Rachel had been right. By the next morning Jules’ eye had developed a deep purple bruise beneath it and there were some angry-looking claw marks across the side of her jaw. Thankful that it was Saturday and she wouldn’t have to brave the questions at college, Jules had stuck around in her room until her Mum had left for work and then trudged downstairs to make herself some breakfast and a brew. Of course it was just her luck that there was a tap on the back door and it opened to reveal the one person she really didn’t want to see.

A faint blush crept its way up Simon’s neck when he realised Jules was standing in the kitchen. They hadn’t seen each other since that night out and neither of them really knew how to react around the other. As his eyes finally found their way to her face he hissed in a breath at the state of her.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell Jules, what happened?”

“Nothin’,” she mumbled, dipping her head.

“That don’t look like nothin’,” he pressed, closing the door behind him and moving further into the kitchen.

“She had a fight with that Debbie,” Rob said from the hallway. “Apparently Debbie took the worst of it. Dunno why she’d wanna cause trouble wi’ you tho, eh Jules?”

Jules’ eyes whipped up to meet Simon’s and they shared a look of panic but Rob remained oblivious.

“She’ll know better than to pick on a Kellsall, won’t she,” Rob said, slipping his arm around Jules’ shoulder and squeezing her tight.

“Yeah well,” Jules muttered, staring at Simon over the rim of her mug, “I ain’t havin’ anyone slaggin’ off me or mine.”

Taglist: @aykxz98 @spicyspicyliving

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

Hello! Est-ce que tu pourrais écrire une suite de "bring your kid to work day" sauf que cette fois spider est particulièrement insupportable au point que quarirch a du mal a travailler? Et ça n'a rien a voir mais ta fanfiction " visited on the son" est vraiment mignonne.

Hello! I finally finished your request! It became much more of an angst fic than I originally anticipated but I'm really happy with it so I hope you like it too! 💞

    Junior threw his toys against the bars of his playpen, making it loudly rattle over and over. Miles Sr already had a migraine from his lack of sleep and it was only being amplified by the noise. “Can you stop it,” the father said, trying not to yell. The boy answered by slamming a block against his cage with seemingly even more force, glaring at his father as he did. Logically he knew his son was just grumpy from his lack of sleep but so was Miles. He sprang from his seat, marched over to Junior, ripped his next projectile from his little hand and picked him up. The boy instantly started screaming bloody murder, crying over the loss of his toy. “Oh hush,” Miles commanded, taking a seat back at his desk with a heavy thud. 

            Junior just kept crying as he was forcibly seated on his dad’s lap. He squirmed for release but it was no use. “Down,” the boy screamed between sobs, “down papa down!”

           “Nope. You're in time out.”

            “No!” Somehow his son managed to cry even harder. He was surprised none of his subordinates came to make sure the boy wasn’t being killed. 

             “Yes!” Miles Sr mocked. He tried to get back to work, ignoring his son’s wailing as he typed up his latest report. He was making decent progress until Junior realized he no longer had his father’s attention. The boy’s sobs quieted to sniffles as he watched the man work, a plan brewing in his head. Miles breathed a sigh of relief at the moment of silence. Then quick as a flash the toddler reached out to beat the buttons of the keyboard. His father snatched him up just as quickly, springing out of his chair and away from his computer as if it were on fire. He did his damndest to quell his fury as he put Junior back in his playpen before inspecting the damage. His report was ruined, whole sections deleted, strings of letters and numbers replacing real words. 

            He bit back a string of curses as his anger mounted. Junior returned to throwing his toys. The father rounded on him. “You stop that right now!”

           Junior’s face hardened. Instead of ignoring the command like before he lobbed a rubber ball right at his father. The toy didn’t even make it out of the pen but the intent of the action made Miles steaming mad. If he had tried half as much with his old man back in the day he’d be getting put over his knee before he could blink twice. It felt like an appropriate punishment now but he stopped himself. His wife would rise from her grave just to kill him herself if he even dared to continue with that line of thought. I’m angry, frustrated, and tired, Miles reminded himself. So is he, his son looked more exhausted than any child should ever be allowed. He needed to de-escalate, not fan the flames.

            Crouching down to the boy’s level, Miles took both of  Junior’s hands into his. The boy twisted and screamed for freedom. “Miles,” he said sternly. His son continued to fight. “Miles,” he called again. On and on Junior thrashed like an animal caught in a trap while his father calmly called out to him. After twenty minutes of screaming the boy was on the ground breathing heavily. “Miles.”

             “Papa,” Junior answered pathetically. 

             “You’ve been acting very bad today son. Throwing your toys and being noisy isn’t a good way to play. Ruining Papa’s work wasn’t very nice and neither was trying to hit me. Do you understand?” Tears were glittering in his eyes as he thought it through. When it all sank in he nodded his head yes. “Good. Now when you're bad you have to be punished. You threw your toys so no more toys…” the toddler shrieked his protest as his father gathered up all his toys and books, placing them in a basket outside of the playpen. Miles was having none of the water works. He clasps the boy’s shoulders saying firmly, “stop it right now. Actions have consequences. You were naughty. You have to make up for that.” He turned the boy to face the wall then moved away.

             “Papa,” Junior sobbed, reaching out to him between the bars of his playpen.

             Every instinct in his body screamed at him to comfort his son but he stayed firm. “I’ll hold y’a after timeout. Turn around and face the wall until I say so.”

             “Papa!” Junior continued crying, slowly melting down to the ground as he pleaded for his father’s attention. It broke Miles' heart but he forced himself to ignore it, focusing instead on fixing his ruined report.