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sucodelaranja86 · 1 day ago

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U ate the jealous! Cho Hyun-Ju request up fr!! Especially the suggestive part lmaoo I love it

Do u think we could get a Hyun-Ju x reader where we suffer a knee injury during one of the games which we try to keep quiet about until one of the other players (maybe young-mi) notices n tries to help us out w it which catches the attention of Hyun-Ju who gets upset n scolds us but were to stubborn to listen n wave her worries off until our injury hurts more n we begrudgingly go to her for help?

- don't hide it from me : ★

featuring: hyun-ju cho x reader

summary: you suffered a knee injury in the middle of the game, but you were too stubborn to tell her.

warnings: slight angst.

A/N: i am taking too long to write more fics, i'm sorry 😭 also, as every single squid game work i do, young-mi lives 😋

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

‣ as you walk out of the second game field amongside your previous group, your heart was still racing from the horrifying experience while you made your way back to the giant dormitory, the peaceful silence of the place creating a harsh contrast to the tense atmosphere you had just left behind. The weight of what was happening began to settle as you sat down once again in the staircase. You haven't expected being put on such a deadly game, and the gravity of the situation made itself clear to you at each passing moment.

‣ but you couldn't deny that what shocked you even more was to find your partner here. One of the only connections you had in the outside world was also put in this messed up game. And judging by the reaction she had when she first saw you, it seemed the feeling was also mutual on her part.

‣ she saw you first in the "green light, red light" game, you were surprised as you felt a familiar grip on you, pushing you in a panicked manner behind her. And in the six-legs game, you stood by her side, hugging her arm close to you.

‣ you 5 were the second group to play and the first one to pass, meaning the dormitory would be empty and silent until the following groups finished their turns. The young man settled in his bed with a loud sigh, laying relaxedly with his mother who also had a similar relieved expression on her face. Hyun-ju sat alone in her bed, a thoughtful expression on her face, while the short, timid girl never left your side. As she sat down next to you, she hugged your arm excitedly.

‣ ― we- we did it! ― young-mi stuttered happily. As she finished saying that, she elbowed you playfully, but what she didn't expect was to see you flinch painfully while hissing. Her expression quickly turned into one of concern, straighten her posture as she looked at you worriedly.

‣ ― [name]? What is it? A-are you alright? ― she mumbled, putting one shaky hand on your back. You looked at her, sensing her worry. ― i'm alright. I just- i think i just gave a bad turn and injured my knee. ― you confessed. Young-mi anxiously looked around, trying to figure out what she should do. She remembered what you said earlier- that you knew Hyun-ju before entering here. And that was the first solution that came into her mind.

‣ The short-haired girl then shakily got up, not taking her hands and gaze away from you, ― i-i'm going to get unnie- she must know what to do- ― you quickly interrupted her sentence with a desperate grunt, holding the girl's wrist for dear life.

‣ ―no- don't. Please. ― even if your voice held a stern tone, you almost begged. Ever since the beginning of this game, you could notice something was wrong with Hyun-ju. At the end of the first game, you two swore to go back home- except she didn't follow that promise, ashamedly clicking on the blue 'O' button. And now, it didn't seem her opinion would change, you could see through her. You know how big of an opportunity this was to change to change both of your lives, and mostly how big of a step it would be to help with her transition. As much as she was ashamed to admit to you, and only you- she couldn't leave this early in the game.

‣ and you didn't want to worry her.

‣ hearing your determined tone, the girl silently nodded, quietly going back to her spot. ― but... Please, treat this as soon as you can. Being injured in a place like this is no good. ― she advised apprehensively. You nodded softly, wanting nothing more than to reassure her that you could manage.

‣ you held your pained grunts as you tried to massage your knee without waking up anyone. As the lights turned off, you rapidly pulled your pants up to try to access the situation your injury was. Now finally having time to take a better look at it, even in the dark, you could see how purple and bruised it looked. You had no experience in this field, but tried your best to make the aching pain go away with the little knowledge you had.

‣ you let out a shocked gasp as you felt a strong hand on your shoulder, backing off just to quickly stop due to the throbbing pain. As you fearfully turned your head around, you were met with the stoic face of no one other than Hyun-ju. Her face was turned down as she nonchalantly sat on your bed.

‣ she grabbed your wrists and easily took them off of your knee, earning an agonizing hiss from you. You looked at her, a confused expression on your face as you tried to find the right words to express your thoughts. ― how... How did you know i- ―

‣ ― young-mi. ― she answered shortly, cutting you off without further explanation. Well, it's not like you needed it. She replaced your hands with hers on where they where previously, massaging your knee with a more strong and experienced grip.

‣ after a short period of silence, she continued. ― you should have told me. You can't be this reckless. ― she stated in a low and frustated tone, not letting place for any discussion.

‣ you could only sigh as you allowed her treat you, the pain gradually subsiding. As she finished, you continued looking down ashamedly without muttering a word. As if on cue to act, you received an unasked, but welcomed kiss to your lips, the tense atmosphere quickly shattering down. You looked up to see the previous stern expression on her face gone, replaced by a more soft and caring one.

‣ ― please, don't hesitate to tell me if something happens. I wouldn't live down if anything happened to you. ― she muttered while looking lovingly into your eyes.

‣ you nodded softly while guiding her to lay down with you on your bed, taking care to not injure your knee further. She wrapped her arms around you, laying your face on her chest. As you both settled in, you felt yourself falling asleep quickly. The fatigue creeping up as you snuggled yourself further into her.

‣ young-mi, you snitch.

★ . ★ . ★ . ★

#cho hyunju #hyun ju x reader #player 120 #cho hyun ju x reader #squid game #squid game headcanons #squid game x y/n #cho hyun-ju x reader #squid game x reader #squid game x you

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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 days ago

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Wrong! This is your fault on WhatsApp I am so fucked! 😭

@gomzdrawfr @nekrosmos @streetchicken @panchulien @karlachismylife These lot gonna have a hot demon barbarian or something CoD soldiers to come and save me, I hope.

You’re stuck in a room with the last character in your gallery. How safe are you?

Thanks for tagging me @artsy-girl-76 @schnarfer @oonajaeadira @jeewrites (I’m so sorry if I missed anyone!)

Does this guy count?

YOU GUYS. It told me the gif was “too big”…. I’m not safe AT ALL 😅

Tagging @burntheedges @grogusmum @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @ishabull @davnittbraes

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esotericbluntbaby · 3 days ago

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your hamzah angst was sooo good 😭 i really love this specific concept of angst where one of them distances from the other 🥹🥹

maybe you could do a prompt where y/n is scared to date hamzah?? maybe even rejecting him at first or something omg...

or one where they get into an argument which makes one of them distance themselves from the other (i love this concept so much sorry LOL)

passionfruit

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: heartbroken by the reader rejecting his advances out of fear, hamzah finds someone else; yet, he doesn't realize he looks for you in her until it was almost too late.

mentions: roommate!hamzah, angst, feelings of abandonment, she/her pronouns, happy ending, sfw!

i was listening to passionfruit by drake while writing this lol i was trying to go for a trope where they're both yearning but there's a blockage in the way of them getting to each other. "leaving, you're just doing that to get even" really inspired me

"this is azra, my girlfriend," hamzah admitted as you gazed at the alluring girl he brought into the apartment.

in moments, you felt like the library of alexandria has fallen once again. all the enriching history and knowledge you once knew, in addition to him knowing as well, was burnt to a crisp like a match to dry grass. you wondered if things could've been different; if you had finally grown the courage in the garden of your soul to tell him how you truly felt. yet, it was too late to dwell.

you couldn't blame him for getting a girlfriend, especially one as pretty as she is. technically, he wasn't yours to begin with; he was merely your roommate living in the room parallel to you. however, for a while, it felt like he was. the chemistry between the two of you morphed into a familiar tension of pairs; grapes are connected by their stems in the way that leaves are connected by the branches, the same way that you two were connected by the many traits you had in common.

there was always exchanged glances. the contact between your eyes and his created a candle flame that the wrinkles and creases from his smile would fan. you two acknowledged it, leading to social settings being disrupted by being stuck in a cycle of addiction: an addiction to the understanding you two had for each other with merely a look. some call it the look of love, but you and hamzah never even had the chance to speak about it.

eventually, the shared eye contact turned into physical contact. whether it was interlocking your arms or hands or legs together while cuddling on the couch, or simply sitting on the floor to him and resting your head on his thigh as he played games with martin, days went by with a different method of touch brightening both of your days.

one time, specifically, you began to cry because of the stress that consumed any amount of happiness you were able to feel. assuming that hamzah would just hang out with you, possibly giving you a long and needed hug, you decided to go to his room. opening the door to you on the verge of breaking down in front of him, he not only gave you a hug, but also pecked your forehead and cheeks with kisses while whispering reassurance and affirmations into your ear. things were different from that day; you were no longer just friends.

however, with the difference in relationship, anyone would think that you two would simply talk about what you were. you guys have done practically everything together besides see each other naked or kissed on the lips; why wouldn't you begin to watch a relationship flourish when you know there was nothing that could go wrong? you knew he felt the same way that he did. why wouldn't you take the leap and see where it takes you?

you were a pussy. that's why.

so, you began to distance as if hamzah had the black plague and you were trying to live until you were old and wrinkly. he noticed the uncomfortable amounts of quietude in the apartment and how, suddenly, you began to go out more to parties and hangouts. hamzah knows you; you were never a partying type of girl. he knew there was something up from the sheer amount of you posting on your story about a venue or houseparty you were at, despite being one of the biggest homebodies he knew. did he mention it to you? no. in fact, he amplified the distance since he thought you simply didn't like him the way he liked you. he took your distance as rejection, similar to an empty score on a test or no reply after a job interview.

you distanced yourselves from each other, causing the home to become a house with two bodies far away from each other inside of it. yet, hamzah still decided to introduce you to azra since she would be around more often, causing the awkward situation in front of you to unfold.

"it's nice to meet you," you mentioned as you shook her hand, almost as if this was a business deal instead of an introduction.

she snarked, "yeah, totally. hamzah, you didn't tell me your roommate was a girl?"

hamzah stared at her, "i did. it was one of the first things i told you when i asked if you wanted to come over, actually."

"mmm, i don't remember," she turned to look at you, "will that be a problem?"

confused, you turned your gaze from hamzah to her, "i'm not following. what are you talking about?"

"you're his roommate. you're a girl. i'm his girlfriend. is that an issue?" she cocked her eyebrow.

"no, ma'am, it won't," you reprimanded and gave hamzah a stare of annoyance, "i'm gonna go out. i'll see you later."

azra made herself at home in the least plausible way possible. though hamzah worked hard to keep the kitchen clean each time he decided to cook a meal for the whole house, azra would make a meal for herself and leave the dirty and stained dishes inside of the sink. hamzah would clean the single bathroom sink, since you two shared and he would feel bad if he didn't since he shaves; azra would leave her makeup on the counters in addition to watermarks on the tiling. hamzah's cats loved most people and had no issue with them being around, yet, they would hiss and run away from azra as if she was the wicked witch. the balance of the household was completely diminished ever since she began to come over more often.

so, you decided that you were going to move out. there was no longer space for you in this house anymore; not with her being hamzah's girlfriend.

knocking on hamzah's door, you prayed that his girlfriend wouldn't be in his room. there were too many times where she had accused you of attempting to take him. hamzah would defend you, which you were insanely grateful for since she was driving you up and down the walls, leaving her accusing him of wanting you, as well. the door swung open, revealing hamzah in a gray hoodie and black, nike sweatpants. his hair was held in a beanie with loose curls exiting out of the back of his head. it was always one of your favorite looks of him. he knew that.

"hey, can i come in?"

the clock read 12:03 am. you two sat on his bed after a brief catching up. in those mere moments, you felt like things were normal again. there was no arguing and no awkward distance from each other. in fact, even the silence of the room was comfortable. yet, you knew it couldn't go on for too long.

"so, why'd you decide to come in here?" he asked, genuinely curious.

you cleared your throat, "i just wanted to talk to you about something kinda serious."

"i'm all ears. talk to me. what's up?"

"hamzah, i think it's time for me to move out."

his eyes widened in surprise mixed with a glint of worry, "what?"

"i dunno. i just think that, maybe, you've kinda outgrown me in a way?"

"what are you talking about?"

you hesitated, silence filling the space between you.

"stop it," he softly demanded.

"stop what?"

"just say what you want to say. you're thinking about it too much. say it as it is."

you sighed, "if you're happy with azra, i think i should leave. sometimes, it hurts just to look at you guys. i know it's bad that i'm talking to you about this as you're literally with her, but i guess i haven't gotten over how close we used to be and how it could've turned into something. i think this is for the best. i'll figure out the paperwork tomorrow. i'm sorry, hamzah."

leaving his room in a rush, you began to tear up as you entered your room, went underneath your fuzzy covers, and attempted to sleep.

the next day flew by; you went to the front office to collect the paperwork for the resignation of your lease. attempting to fill it out was rough, since strands of doubt kept on pulling you back from fully signing each signature and information on the paper. at around 8:00 at night, you heard a knock on your door as you began to fill out the last form of resignation. your hand twisted the doorknob, slowly revealing hamzah at the opposite end; he looked like he hadn't slept in a day, as dark circled caressed the bottoms of his eyes.

"hi, um, can i come in?"

you stared at the floor, "yeah, sure."

he sat down on your bed, your mattress making a squeaking noise at the weight of his body being fully transferred onto it. you sat onto the chair of your desk, parallel to him on the bed, and swiveled it around so you would be able to see him.

you questioned out of worry, "are you okay? did you sleep at all last nigh-"

"stay."

"what?"

"stay, please. don't move out, don't go."

you sighed, "hamzah, i'm filling out the papers right now. i'm not needed here anymore."

"but you are needed here! i need you here."

"you have a girlfriend, you have to need her inst-"

"i broke up with her."

uncertainty of the conversation began to make your brain go blank, "what?"

"you can call me a fucked up person. you can call me anything, actually, but you can't say that i don't need you here. i never looked at her the way that i look at you. i think this whole time i've just been looking for everything that you are whenever i looked into her eyes. you can call me fucked up, but i just can't help it. she isn't you. it's like somehow you've tied a rope to me and i can't seem to get out of it, but i also don't want to get out of it? i realized that last night when you told me you wanted to move out."

"hamz-"

"i didn't sleep at all because i was scared."

"why?"

"i didn't want to look to the room in front of mine and have it be empty when it could've been turned into an office or something."

you furrowed your eyebrows, "hamzah, it could still be turned into an office or something. in fact, me moving out would give you more room to-"

he placed his hands on your shoulders, "that's not the point. the point is that i'd want to turn it into an office when you move into my room. the only reason i'd ever want that room to be empty is if it was because you decided that you wanted to share space with me and sleep with me in mine."

"what are you saying?"

his hand made its way to your cheek, "you said that you couldn't get over how we could've been something. we can be something. just stay.

his eyes glistened with hope and nervousness intertwined and holding hands in his irises. hesitance filled the air in between the two; the combination of the intense eye contact, as well as the physical touch of his hand cupping your cheek as if it belonged there, created a sense of uncertainty. you both were uncertain where you would end up, how you would end up, what this interaction would lead to. it was only when hamzah's lips softly landed on yours that you realized that, suddenly, everything fell into place. it was short, sweet, and supple, only lasting about a mere 2 seconds; yet, pulling away was similar to pulling two magnets apart without a handle to hold. the feeling of his lips on yours lingered even after you pulled away.

"y'know, you're a horrible person for trying to find me in another woman," you told him softly.

"call me a horrible person all you want. i'm sorry, baby," he kissed you again, "forgive me?"

"hmm.. i don't know if i can. actually, if you do me this favor, i will.

"a favor as in?"

you handed him the documents you signed, "either burn it or shred it. i don't care."

author's note

i have no clue if im into how this turned out, but surprise lol two in one day!

#hamzah fic #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah fluff #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefanatasticxreader

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chocobje · 2 days ago

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Whenever I write characters in general I try my best not to mischaracterize them too much. Their canon personalities/aspects is what made me love them in the first place and I don't want to stray too far from that..

I also get anxious when I don't interpret a character well enough not because I'm scared what others might say but literally because it's for my own sake.

I don't rlly mind nor care too much if people mischaracterize whether on purpose or on accident– people should just have fun aslong as no harm's done.

#rambles #I've been thinking #got comments of people loving how I characterize Sprout and it makes me relieved cause #I'm so scared of getting his character wrong lol 😭🙏#only some mischaracterizations kinda annoy me but I usually just ignore them #like Sprout only loving and being protective of Cosmo and no one else #I don't like how Shrimpo is characterized to be misunderstood and secretly hates himself or something along those lines #Like personally I think he's just an asshole and I support his wrongs #Also despite my DW FR AU being an AU their personalities is pretty much the canon ones too #Keeping things close to canon means a lot to me I do this a lot in fandoms I'm in lol #It's not everyone's cup of tea but this is how I have fun lol

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oya-oya-okay · 1 day ago

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@quartztwst A FEW SKETCHES ABOUT YOUR AUUU💕💗💕💗

And some lovely Shin by @liyuviq 🥺 I WISH SHIN AND SHUU WERE BEST FRIENDS......😭👉👈💖💗 AND Shin could probably suspect Quartz as well?🤔😭

But please don't take this seriously. And I'm sorry if I did something wrong😭🙏💕💕💕

#Twst #Twst au #quartztwst🐰#Shuu🐿️#My Shuu OC🐿️#Azul Ashengrotto #Twst Azul #Twst Shin #sketches #oyaokayart #my art #fanart #no yandere sim au

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wooskwren · 2 days ago

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Honestly I've done a lot of introspection and I think I (maybe?) know why?

For one it has always been a chronic crippling fear that I would come off as "creepy" to people, and I thought that liking women made me just some creepy dude (this started when i was like, 13 dude 😭) and i didnt wanna make anyone uncomfortable or anything so I started gaslighting myself into thinking I ONLY liked men. I think there's a lot of dysphoria components in here I didn't realize at the time because liking men made me feel nice and liking women made me feel like some "creepy dude" or like I was doing something wrong

For two in late high school I was in a relationship with a transmasc and I got it in my head that I would be a terrible person if I liked women too because I was worried I'd make him dysphoric so I tried gaslighting myself AGAIN into thinking I didn't like women

We have fun here we love psychological warfare on myself by my own doing

I don't know who else to tell this story to but I need to get it out. For the first 20 or so years of my life I was a gay man. 100%. I have a lot of gender dysphoria all the time but I just shocked that up to how it felt to be gay. Once I met some other trans people I decided to take the plunge, it's a few years later and I am very happily a woman. But I'm still only into guys and I spent so much of my time around the gay community that I have no interest in straight dudes. Im MTF (male to fujo)

LMAOOOO Anon I'm sorry for your loss but that's hilarious. I feel like you'd at least be popular with bisexual guys, particularly the widely underappreciated category of "dudes who are bi but come across so fruity that straight women assume they're gay and don't wanna date them"

#my lore

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abdy-18 · 2 days ago

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Fanfics where Yor takes care of Loid will always be my favorite because Yor genuinely enjoys taking care of the people she loves; it's her way of expressing affection and she wants to take care of her (fake) husband, not because she feels the obligation to do so because of the traditional wife role but because that's how her heart is.

Loid, on the other hand, has never had anyone to truly take care of him since he lost his mother. His life has been a constant cycle of loneliness and distrust. Even if his handler or some senior agent ever showed him the slightest empathy or suggested he take things easy, he would probably have assumed they were only doing it because he was a valuable asset, a resource they had to protect for utility. Twilight would surely think that, the moment he stopped being useful, they would throw him away like just another object.

But then Yor cares for him when he's most vulnerable, unable to contribute anything, when he feels like he's nothing but "useless," Yor is there, attentive, genuinely caring for him without expecting anything in return. She not only takes care of Anya, but also keeps the household running smoothly, showing him that everything will be okay even if he can't take care of everything himself.And for the first time in a long time, Twilight lets his guard down. He allows himself to relax, let the exhaustion catch up with him, and finally rest because Yor, Anya, and Bond give him a peace he never thought possible.

I have all of these in my ao3 bookmarks but I need more please 😭 if anyone knows more please tell me 😭

Harbor by frumplebump

Succumbing to the flu is not a luxury Twilight can afford, but when his immune system betrays him, Yor is there for him.

swing the spinning step by firewoodfigs

It is a truth universally acknowledged that an overworked and underpaid spy must, at some point in time, be so besieged by a terrible flu—in order that his lovely wife might take care of him.

Something More by Thurito for nightofnyx8

The first thing the spy felt in the morning was such a strong weight on top of him that for a moment he thought it was someone who finally found his identity. His heart jumped, but as soon as his eyes were open and the man felt himself waking up more, he noticed what it was. He was sick. Twilight was sick. For the first time in more than a decade.

But I'm Here and So Are You by EmmyGracey

The Forger family returned to their hotel room after the airship crash wanting nothing more than warm clothes and a little bit of rest. When it’s Yor’s turn to get cleaned up she notices the cut on Loid’s head is bleeding again. She needs to take care of that. Loid’s not used to being taken care of. He finds it rather nice.

Spies Don't Get Paid Enough by Justanotherfannerd

Twilight does a shady mission that goes awry and Loid and Yor deal with the fallout. Purposeful obliviousness and injuries ensue. It's probably for the best that Anya is at a sleep over while all of this happens. or Twilight gets hurt, Yor plays doctor, and the both of them hide behind obliviousness.

Consequences by Raindrops_On_The_Pavement

Loid Forger is not indestructible, despite being Westalis's best. (I suck at summaries but I promise the story is good) Just a Loid Forger sickfic because why not? (The intro is a bit slow, but it gets sickfic/angsty dw)

A way out by MDSpencer

Twilight faces the consequences of his actions, and he seems to drag his family down with him

The Man From Mars by neejmorp

Something was wrong with Yor’s husband. He wore a constant smile on his face. It fooled colleagues, neighbors, and friends alike. The three people in his life who knew him best — his wife, his daughter, and his handler — all knew better. There was something off about his eyes. Loid survives a near-death experience following a mission abroad, but the incident impacts him and has an affect on his relationship with his family—particularly Yor.

You need to knock out this blondie more often :3

#spy x family #loid forger #twilight #agent twilight #spy x family manga #yor forger #sxf manga #sxf anime #sxf fic #spy x family fic #spy x family anime

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itsnesss · 9 hours ago

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heyy, could you write a jun-ho smut with a jealous reader (I didn't think of any specific situation), I'm sorry, english is not my first language 😭😭

I love your writing so much!!!

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | you feel insecure and jealous during a dinner with jun-ho, especially when another woman approaches him. after an intense emotional moment, jun-ho reassures you in the restaurant bathroom. the scene ends with jun-ho asserting his dominance and claiming you publicly, leaving no doubt about your relationship

warnings | jealousy and possession, insecurity, smut, explicit content, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, semi public

word count | 2.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The restaurant was filled with laughter and conversations. You could hear the clinking of wine glasses and plates being served in the distance, but everything seemed distant to you. Sitting at the table next to Jun-ho, you felt that, no matter how hard you tried to enjoy it, something didn’t fit. The atmosphere seemed lively, but you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. His coworkers were talking about topics you didn’t fully understand, and although you tried to follow the flow of the conversation, your thoughts always returned to one thing: her.

It was impossible not to notice. The girl, with her dark hair and melodic laughter, stayed close to Jun-ho the entire time. Every time he made a joke, she laughed louder than the others, casually touching his arm, as if they shared a complicity you couldn’t reach. Every time their eyes met, you felt as if the air around you thickened, as if the world suddenly shrank, leaving you alone in the middle of that crowd.

The focus of attention seemed to always be Jun-ho, but there was something in the way she got close to him that made you twist inside. It wasn’t just that they were talking; it was the way they looked at each other, as if they shared a secret history that you didn’t know.

You felt increasingly uncomfortable, like an intruder, and when she leaned toward him to say something, touching his arm again, you couldn’t stop an intense feeling of jealousy from taking over you. You felt stupid, but you couldn’t help it. Why did it bother you so much to see how they laughed together, how they got close, as if they were the only ones in the room?

Jun-ho, unaware of your thoughts, continued enjoying the conversation. His coworkers also seemed charmed by his presence. He was the center of attention, and you, even though you were sitting next to him, felt invisible. Was it always like this with everyone? So close, so natural? You couldn’t stop wondering what they had that you didn’t.

With your heart racing, you took a sip of wine, trying to calm down, but when you looked at the girl again, you saw her smiling, moving even closer to him. Something inside you exploded. You didn’t want to be there, you didn’t want to keep seeing that scene. No matter how many times you told yourself you shouldn’t feel that way, the anxiety kept growing, taking over your mind and body.

You decided to stand up abruptly. You couldn’t stay there, feeling like the air was suffocating you. Jun-ho looked at you instantly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice full of concern as he saw you get up from the table.

You felt tense, your breathing irregular, but you tried to keep calm. You looked toward the hallway, feeling the need to get away.

"Just... need some air," you replied, your tone not very convincing, but enough for him not to insist.

Jun-ho stared at you for a moment, then stood up as well. Without a word, he followed you down the restaurant hallway. You didn’t want him to come, but you couldn’t stop him from taking your hand with a firmness that, although gentle, was impossible to ignore.

"Are you sure everything’s okay?" he asked as they walked. There was a hint of concern in his voice, but also something else. Was it jealousy that sparkled in his eyes? You didn’t know, but what you could feel was the tension in his posture, the way his steps became quicker as he noticed you pulling away.

"I just need to be alone for a moment," you replied, but you couldn’t stop your tone from sounding more curt than you had planned. Frustration was starting to surface, and the last thing you wanted was to show Jun-ho how insecure you felt at that moment.

Finally, the two of you reached a small secluded corner, where he stopped you gently, looking at you with an intensity that made you swallow. The distance you had tried to put between you both didn’t exist, and Jun-ho's closeness made you feel more vulnerable than ever.

"What’s going on?" he said, this time without the previous concern, as if he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from you.

You couldn’t keep hiding it. The poison of jealousy coursed through you, and although you knew it wasn’t rational, you couldn’t keep it in anymore.

"It’s just... her... I can’t stop looking at her," you said, gritting your teeth, your gaze fixed on the floor. It was hard to look into his eyes, even though you knew he wouldn’t understand unless you said it. How could you explain that every time she got close to him, you felt like something in your chest was breaking?

Jun-ho remained silent for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low, but there was a hardness you had never heard before.

"Are you getting jealous?" he asked, his tone so serious it almost made you regret speaking.

The blush appeared on your face instantly. You tried to find an exit, a way to take back the words you had just said, but the truth was, you couldn’t. That’s what you felt. No matter how silly it seemed, you couldn’t stop comparing yourself to her, to the way she seemed to have all of Jun-ho’s attention.

Before you could say anything else, Jun-ho took your hand and, without a word, led you to a nearby door. It was clear that he wasn’t going to let this conversation hang in the air. He wanted you to clarify it, he wanted both of you to clarify it.

He led you to the bathroom, the door closing behind you with a soft click, and the sound of the others’ voices faded away. All that was left was the echo of your breathing, his and yours.

Jun-ho looked at you with unusual intensity. There was a different energy in the air, something palpable, and you could feel it in every fiber of your body. Something had changed in him too, as if the situation had brought out a more passionate, more possessive version of himself.

"I’m going to show you that I’m only yours," he said in a low voice, like a promise, as his fingers traced your face. Every word was a heartbeat, and his eyes wouldn’t let you escape.

Your chest sped up, and when his lips met yours, you couldn’t stop a wave of desire from flooding your body. The kiss was deep, urgently warm, and at first, all you could feel was his closeness, his body pressing against yours with force, as if he wanted to erase everything else from the world.

But it wasn’t just that. You could feel his hands on your body, touching you with a palpable need, as if he were finally claiming you, as if the jealousy had pushed him to prove that only you mattered. And in that moment, all you thought, all the insecurities you had felt, faded completely.

"Jun-ho..." you murmured between kisses, but you didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t necessary.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, his hands found your waist, pressing you against him as his body moved with the same urgency you felt. His kisses were gentle at first, but they became more intense, more demanding. You didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want anything to separate you from him in that moment.

Without thinking, his fingers found your dress, sliding underneath to caress your legs. You arched towards him, knowing there was no turning back. You wanted to feel his touch, his tongue in your throat, his teeth caressing your nipples. All you wanted was him.

Both of their breaths were heavy, they were both panting, but they couldn't stop. He gently spread your legs, and when his fingers found your wet panties, he couldn't help but let out a deep sound of pleasure. It was as if you had driven him crazy, but you didn't feel guilty. You wanted it that way. You wanted him to realize that only you could make him feel that way.

"You are so beautiful" he said between kisses, moving his tongue along your neck. His fingers found your pussy, pressing it gently.

"Jun-ho... Please" you murmured, but you didn't need to say more. He knew exactly what you needed.

With a softness that surprised you, Jun-ho slipped two fingers into your wet pussy, moving them slowly. You could feel your inner walls caressed by his fingers, the warm touch, the movement so firm and confident, and before you could realize what was happening, your vagina began to contract. You clung to his shoulders, trembling with pleasure, and couldn't help but let out a moan.

Jun-ho continued moving his fingers, looking at you as your walls closed around them. The vision was so erotic, so exciting, that you felt like you were about to explode again.

"That's it, my love," he murmured, moving his thumb towards your clit. Come for me... Come to me, my love.

Your eyes closed and the orgasm took you on a journey of pleasure. You felt like you were flying, as if Jun-ho were the center of the world and you were surrounded by his energy. It was his touch that had brought you there, his finger pressing on your clitoris with softness but firmness, and you could do nothing but surrender to him.

It wasn't until several seconds later, when your breathing began to calm down, that you realized your panties were stained. But you didn't care. You couldn't be happier that Jun-ho had given you an orgasm in the restaurant bathroom, simply because you had made him feel jealous.

The idea was as erotic as it was sexy, and you didn't want it to end. You wanted to keep feeling his touch, feeling him inside you, as if it were possible to merge your bodies into one.

"I want to feel you inside me," you said softly, looking into his eyes. Jun-ho also seemed calm, but his pupils were dilated. You could see in them the need, the desire to fuck you.

Without a word, he lifted you off the ground and set you on the countertop. They were lucky that there was no one around at that moment, or the situation would have been even more embarrassing.

He pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift motion, revealing his hard cock. It was so beautiful, so big, so perfect. You desired her inside you, you wanted to feel her thickness, her warmth.

You didn't wait any longer. You lowered your panties and sat back on the countertop, spreading your legs so he could come closer to you. And that's exactly what he did.

He got between your legs, looking into your eyes as he placed the head of his cock at your entrance. You felt so wet that you knew he could slide in easily. And that's exactly what he did. He slid his cock into you with a smooth but firm motion, and you couldn't help but let out a scream.

"That's it," Jun-ho murmured between kisses, sliding his cock inside you. "You're so wet... You're going to like my cock, aren't you?"

You didn't respond. It wasn't necessary. You let his cock fuck you, let his touch take you to a wave of pleasure, while his fingers played with your nipples. And it didn't matter that you were in the bathroom of a crowded restaurant. The only thing that mattered was him, his body on top of you, his cock fucking you with such need.

"How does it feel?" you said in a whisper, arching towards him with each thrust—. How does it feel when you fuck me? What does it make you feel when you have me inside?

Jun-ho seemed lost in his own sensations, but upon hearing you, he opened his eyes again. He looked into your eyes with a burning intensity.

"It makes me feel powerful," he said in a very low voice, moving his hips so that his cock sank even deeper into you. It makes me feel like only I can do it, like only my cock can do it.

You felt yourself blush, but you didn't stop. You couldn't, you didn't want to. You wanted to listen more.

"And what does it make me feel?" you asked, tightening your walls around his cock. He let out a sound of pleasure, but continued speaking.

"It makes you feel like I'm yours," he replied in a firm voice. It makes you feel like you own my cock. As if only you deserved it.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to tell him that he was also your master. But you didn't. You couldn't speak, because at that moment, Jun-ho moved faster, thrusting his cock so deeply that you couldn't help but orgasm.

Yes, an orgasm, right there, in the bathroom of the most public place, with Jun-ho fucking you. And you couldn't complain. The sensation was so intense, so sexy, that you didn't want it to end. But Jun-ho seemed to know you were coming, because he moved harder, squeezing his fingers on your hips.

Your vagina contracted, and Jun-ho began to come. His muscles tensed, his breath stopped, and his cock emptied inside you.

Both were still, panting. You knew you should be ashamed, but you couldn't feel anything but pride. Pride in knowing that Jun-ho belonged only to you, and that he had shown it in the sexiest way you could imagine.

Finally, he pulled out of you and helped you down from the countertop. The semen began to spill onto your panties, but you didn't want to clean yourself. You wanted to take it home, feel its touch on your panties all day.

Jun-ho smiled upon seeing the expression on your face.

"Don't worry," he murmured, kissing you softly. I think you already understood. "You're jealous, and I'm going to give you something so you always feel secure. Okay?".

You didn't respond. You didn't need to do it. You knew that Jun-ho would always be there for you, but only for you. And that was more than enough.

After what happened in the bathroom, everything seemed different. The air between you and Jun-ho was charged with a new tension, something you had never experienced with him before. The words he had whispered to you in the middle of the kiss kept resonating in your mind: "I'm going to show you that I'm only yours." You felt yourself going crazy, every fiber of your being burning with the intensity of his caresses, but now there was something even stronger, a need you couldn't ignore.

When Jun-ho opened the bathroom door, the noise of the restaurant hit you full force, but it was no longer the same. Even though the others continued chatting and laughing, the world felt more distant than ever. You walked beside him, as if you were floating, and the only thing you could think about was what had happened between the two of you, what he had shown.

The curious thing was that, instead of trying to smooth over the situation or hide what had just happened, Jun-ho seemed even more confident about what had occurred. And as soon as they returned to the table, he made no attempt to separate from you.

As they moved forward, you felt more uncomfortable. Everything seemed to be happening at a different speed, as if everything around you were slowed down, while your body continued to vibrate with the electricity that Jun-ho had left in you. Your eyes searched for hers, but this time, you felt no fear, no jealousy, no insecurity. Jun-ho's dominance over you was so clear that, for the first time, you felt completely secure.

The place was lively, but when they reached the table, something in the atmosphere changed. Everyone seemed so busy with their conversations that they didn't notice the immediate change in the interaction between you and Jun-ho. However, what happened next made it clear that he no longer intended to hide what was between the two of them.

Jun-ho sat down again, but this time, he didn't let you sit next to him like before. No, this time he took your hand, guiding you onto his lap without hesitation. The murmurs at the table faded as he, with a fixed and dominant gaze, drew you closer, as if ensuring that no one could question who you were to him.

Everyone's eyes turned towards you, and in that moment, you felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. Jun-ho smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile. It was a smile that spoke of possession, of control. Suddenly, you felt his hand slide down your back with a firmness that made you shiver.

"This is so you have no doubt," he murmured, before his lips met yours in a passionate, direct kiss, in front of everyone.

The clash of sensations was immediate. The world around you disappeared, only he and you existed, and the intertwined mouths. The kiss was neither shy nor brief; it was long, intense, full of a promise that didn't need to be verbalized. Jun-ho held you tightly, making your body press closer to his, as if you wanted to disappear into him.

At first, the room fell silent. No one dared to interrupt, surprised by Jun-ho's audacity. But then, someone laughed nervously, and another murmured something softly, as if trying to downplay what had just happened. However, Jun-ho showed no signs of concern. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy every glance, every whisper at the table, as if he fed off the attention they gave him.

When they finally parted, the air around them was charged, but not with tension, rather with an unbreakable confidence. Jun-ho looked at you with a smile that knew exactly what it was causing. He knew there was no way anyone could doubt what was between them.

"Is that clear to you?" he asked in a low voice, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Your breath was ragged, but it wasn't just because of the kiss. There was something in his attitude, something in the way he had behaved that had completely shattered you. And now, looking at him, you understood that there were no doubts. There was no room for insecurities. You were with him, and that was all that mattered.

You nodded, without the need to say a word. You knew you didn't need to speak. Jun-ho had done everything he needed to do to make sure there was no room for doubt. And when everyone's attention slowly returned to their own conversations, you felt different. It wasn't that you had been "possessed" in some way, but there was something in that kiss, in that public display of affection and control, that had erased any insecurity you might have had.

The others returned to their conversations, some of them even trying to discreetly glance towards where you and Jun-ho were sitting. But he didn't let you go for a second. The way he held you, the way he looked at you, made you feel like you were his, without the need for words.

#squid game smut #squid game #squid game 2 #jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho smut #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang junho #jun ho squid game #hwang jun ho #squid game x reader smut

64 notes · View notes

zepskies · 3 days ago

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Aw welcome back, Wayne!! 😘 I'm so happy to hear that you've been thinking of this series. 🥰 And I'm so excited to see what you thought of Part 2...

I'm so in love with their little bonding sessions. Being stuck inside a cabin and playing games? I want that 😍

Aww it's the little moments with Dean that I would so love -- along with just being snowed in, in a cabin with him. 😏

And lol it's gotta be so awkward for true mates when they're still strangers. I absolutely adored her thought process throughout 😆

Lolll YEP exactly. 😆 Like, realistically how do you broach that conversation with someone? I'm glad you liked that attempt to inject some realism there. 🤣

Love how Dean doesn't realize he's oversharing and that his whole childhood might not have been normal 😂

ahaha Dean got so into his story he didn't realize he was giving himself away there! Bit of a rookie move, but she's his literal soulmate, so he's probably a little distracted. 🤪

And oh God, all those journal entries 😭😭😭 I know they're from the OG journal, but it just rips my heart right out again rereading it 😢 Those portray John's despair and heartbreak way better than the show did...

Girl I had never read the official journal, and it hit me in the feels in just the same way. 😭 I had that exact same thought -- that they served to humanize John and explain why he became the way he was with the boys way better than the show did.

Ooooh, let's think about it, shall we? 😏 Her dad might have totally been snatched by something supernatural. Considering their location and how it happened in her memories, it might have been a Wendigo?? 🤔

Ooh you're red-hot! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Dude! Goosebumps! Wendigos scare the shit outta me 🙈 It's still why The Descent is the scariest movie for me. I die from a heart attack every time 😂 🫣

ooooh my God, I haven't seen The Descent, but if it's anything like the Wendigo episode, than I don't wanna know. 😭 Legit when I was first starting to watch SPN I had to take a break after that episode -- and it was only episode 2!! 😩

No! Alex!!!! YOU KNOW THIS IS WHY I HATE SNOOPING Girl, you're killing me here... 😆😆

LOLL I love that you referenced Smoke Eater -- it's those same vibes from Part 8, isn't it? I have a little less sympathy for the reader in this situation, but she is ultimately sorry for going through his private journal/invading his privacy to the nth degree. 😅

OMGG I LOVED that gif of the little polar bear. 🥹🥹 Took me right out with the cuteness lmao. I laughed so hard at all your commentary with the reader and her lack of bear knowledge. 😝

N'aw, I know it was necessary but poor bear – wrong place, wrong time for the fella 🥺💔

Aww I know, I felt bad for writing that part. Poor Ted. 😭😭

My heart is full 😭❤️❤️❤️ (Also, I doubt he can ever stand to let her go her own way after this lmao)

Ha! You're right about that one. I just love me some protective Alpha Dean. 😏

Huh. Never eaten bear before... Never even thought about it before lol Also seems like something the Shaws would've done 😂

Me either lmao, but I've read about people who actually hunt for a living who survive off bear, caribou, bison, etc. I imagine it's a hard way to live, but omg yeah I could see Ashton making his kids learn how to shoot, but them not wanting to shoot a bear or a deer. 😭

Omg I love that ending! Dean's finally coming around, and she's putting the puzzle pieces about her dad together. I wonder what Dean will do when he hears the full story? Would he go hunt the thing? Is it even still out there??? Questions upon questions... 🤔

Aw I'm glad! Yesss it's about time with him lol. Good thing all your questions there will be answered in Part 3...

So excited for the next part!! I'm loving this story and everything you've put in it, and the dynamic between them is amazing. So well done, friend 😍🩵🩵

Aw thank you so much, my friend!! I tried to balance the slower "getting to know you" parts with some of this actiony/dramatic stuff as they slowly grow closer. 🥰💜💜

Also, don't think I forgot about the last two chapters of Polaris. I'm so looking forward to diving into those chapters soon!! 😘

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart.

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.”

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin.

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear?

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life.

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you.

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest.

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you.

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore.

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze.

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says.

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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#lovely review!! 💕💕#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #against the wind feedback

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nightbutterfly09 · 3 days ago

Text

Might not be suitable for everyone. If you aren't comfortable with bare body contact, making out, hickeys, I advise you don't proceed ❤️😭

Btw, promise I'm working on the next part for "Am I doing the wrong thing?"

Mr. Tease

“Mi vida~?” Said the deep voice from the bedroom. “Can I have my shirt back? The black one, the one you stole from me?”

You opened the door slowly and looked inside. His chest was bare but it was not like that was unexpected. You walk up to him and hug him tightly from behind burrowing your face in his back. “Say please.” You grin into him.

He turned towards you. Your eyes unintentionally averted down to his chest. “As much as I love you, eyes up here mi cariño.” He smirked and raised your chin.

A smug look smeared across his face. You could help yourself from blushing. No matter how many times you kissed, no matter how much time you spent together it just couldn't fit into your mind. The football prodigy many admire is your boyfriend, and you’ve been living with him for two years. “Will you stop staring?” He chuckled and leaned down to your neck. “Sorry-” “Stop apologizing so much- also, stare at me more..just not now” your cheeks were tinted in a deep cherry red.

“Soo your shirt- say please and I’ll give it to you” you grinned. “Am not doing that” he scoffed and kissed your neck. “You are~” you said and squeezed his cheeks to being his face to yours. “Say please Y/N~” you coed.

He frowned and glanced away “please..” he mumbled quietly. “What was that?” His frown turned into a soft glare. He knew you were just messing around. You heard him clear as day the first time too. “Please.” But he went along with you, because he is aware that there is no way out.

“It's on the right side of my shirt pile” you giggled and let him go. “Thanks” he let out a sigh but pulled you back into him. You shook your head. “Thank YOU, for asking for it back properly.”

“Actually, I don't have to hurry to that interview that much…” he pulled his shirt on. Sae cornered you to lean on the bed. Your face was between his strong arms as he climbed over you.

You could contain your massive smile anymore and your arms slipped up to his neck without a second thought. “Your manager will be mad, so let's not” you said but your hands were dictating a different move. “We won't be long.” He smirked and leaned down to gove you a hickey.

His fingers were curled around your hairstrands and your lips were connected in a fast and passionate dance.

Soon his phone started vibrating. Messages were coming in at a fast pace but he still didn't get up. He and you were way too engrossed in what you two were busy with at the moment.

You always thought that was hot. He loved soccer just as much as you, but he would throw any event, interview or meeting away the second you needed him.

Finally the device quieted down. But not for long. A call disrupted the messy sounds of kisses. He pulled away and frowned at his phone. “Seriously…” he reached for his phone and answered his manager. He put it on speaker but muted himself.

Again he leaned down swiftly and rushed in more kisses. These weren't like the ones before.

These kisses were sloppy and fast. Like he tried to pour every passion he had in it. He rocked his body on top of yours which made you fall deeper.

But it was pointless, he had an interview. This one was actually important. It was supposed to be about his future goals and aspirations as well as his private life. Not that he’d say much about that.

“Sae, are you there?!” The impatient sound of his manager rang out. He turned to unmute himself. “Yeah, listening.“ he said between more passionate kisses.

He bit down on your neck which caused you to let out a loud moan. Your face got embarrassingly pink and he smirked and picked his phone up to show that he was unmuted.

The voice from the call didn't dare speak anymore. “What? I was in the middle of something - I can't just throw out everything just because of your call.” Sae sighed.

“Just get to the venue now!” And with that the man hung up. He might’ve been too embarrassed to continue. “W-wait- he might think we were…” you gulp. “It's his fault for having dirty thoughts, not mine.” he grinned. “Now, where were we?” your boyfriend shrugged.

Finally he got his car keys and went to his car. “When I’m back home, we will continue.” He eyed the hickeys on your neck. “Hermosa~”

You bit your lips and looked away in embarrassment. “Have a good interview” and on that note you shut the door. Leaving him with his smirk there.

#bllk itoshi sae #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock #itoshi sae #blue lock fanfiction #bllk #fanfic #sae itoshi x reader #🍋#lemon 🍋

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messrsrarchives · 1 day ago

Note

You’re starting to act just like your fascist Reggie—censoring others and trying to dictate what can and cannot be discussed in fandom. Telling people they can’t talk about politics because you, living in a first-world country, can’t handle it? You’re the one using real-world politics to justify a fictional ship with a fascist. Have you thought about how people who are genuinely anti-fascist might also dislike it in fiction? You can’t control fandom. If you want to like fascist characters, then just own it. While fiction might not feel like reality to you, for many, it is reality. Have you considered that the characters and headcanons you enjoy might reflect deeply personal experiences for others? Not everyone has the privilege to separate fiction from reality like you do.

hi feed, this message was brought to you by someone who has clearly never interacted with me ever !

WDYMMM "telling people they can't talk about politics" 😭😭 i fear that's my ENTIRE niche across two social media platforms. i fear my entire thing is politics in a fandom space + the real world. i fear that's literally what i'm known for. what 😖

i was gonna ignore this but i have so many receipts that i thought okay ! finna answer ! why not, let's entertain this <3 (below the cut because it's long)

assuming that this is a response to this post where, after watching elon perform two nazi salutes on stage, i said "hey! maybe you should stop calling people in fandom nazis for reading about a fictional character!"

what i alsooo said on that post is that it's important to discuss politics in literature (see here: doing a masters degree in english literature + politics <3). because absolutely! the DEs are crafted in a way that reflects historic events and absolutely, that's something we can discuss!

what we should also discuss is that whilst art imitiates life and life imitates art, the two do not directly reflect one another - if i read about wizards, i am not a wizard. if i read a crime book, i am not a detective. and if i read fanfic about regulus black? i am not a facist.

in regards to the censorship comment: this here is an entireeee video i made about censorship and puritanical views in fandom spaces and why this is a Bad Thing To Do (though i fear you will disagree with it because i am saying that people can read and write whatever but alas, no censorship here x)

using real world politics to justify a ship? no, not at all. i do not think ships in fandom need to be "justified" because, again, they are fiction. can they be discussed? absolutely! my tiktok is @/messrsrobyn and you will find countless videos where i dissect fandom, characters and ships. again, this is kind of my whole thing <33 nice to meet you <33 but rather for me? that post was made as a building up of (1) the mass of people in fandom during the tiktok ban saying that words have meaning when american writers say british words "wrong", but throw buzzwords around like it's nothing and (2) this is a place for escapism and safety, which is needed now more than ever and whilst discussions about politics are important, this? this ask? this is not a discussion. this is hostility, much like people just commenting "nazi" with nothing else on a jegulus post.

discussions can be had! absolutely! my entire thing is discussions in fandom. but right now i'm trying to discuss this when you have given me nothing to work with but false claims and hostility - see how this doesn't work? but alas, i'll try :)

do people read jegulus and think "wow i love voldemort and the death eaters!!! i agree with what the did here :D" or do they read jegulus and enjoy the complexity that comes with a character like him? do they enjoy how, with a character with such little canon lore, people explore things? or yk what, do they sometimes read him as a muggle where none of this matter because there's do DEs? yeah, because it's fiction. and liking a fictional character does not have repercussions on the real world.

calling someone a facist/nazi only for teading about fictional characters does - it is so incredibly important that we read immoral literature. i'm rambling now but i'm not even talking just about fandom. we NEED books that discuss these topics and we need to explore the characters within them. we NEED politics and immorality and everything like that in books because that is how we learn, understand, and prevent. reading them does make you immoral - see here: queer books being banned in the us for containing "immoral themes" and main characters doing things they deem had and awful alongside INCREDIBLYYYY important books like the handmaids tale, to kill a mockingbird, 1984, fahrenheit 451 etc etc.

we need to read these. we need to engage with them.

but in a fandom space, we also need to acknowledge that these are not real people. these are fictional characters and there's a big difference between engaging with a character because you are justifying their actions, and engaging with a character because you enjoy Exploring their character and Understanding them in as many ways as possible 🙂↕️

but we agree!! whilst fiction may not feel like reality to some people, to many it is! so have we considered that when people come to escape from the real world for a bit, or people have family members lost to past regimes; are about to enter 4 years of another regime or are holding their breath waiting for european elections to see if another far-right populist party gets in, it might sucklk to have this thrown around?

imagine dealing with alllll of that in reality, not knowing what on earth is going to happen tomorrow or what the future holds for you and the people you love, and then being called a facist online because you read about Fictional Character Regulus Black. whilst your life literally crumbles apart because of it. you are now being called the same thing that the man oppressing you and everyone you love is, because you read FanFiction.

and then finally ahem:

"not everyone has the privilege to separate fiction from reality like you do"

if you click here, you will find a tumblr post i made about this exact thing :D about how we can't separate fiction from reality

see here also: a post about the books jkr publishes under the robert galbraith pseudonym and about how we, again, cannot separate fiction from reality.

if you click here you will find my jkr playlist on tiktok which has videos in about how, again, we cannot separate fiction from reality.

what we also can't do, mind you is call someone a facist for reading a fictional character.

there is big difference between "hey! this character has facist undertones if applied irl, we could discuss this!" and "You Are A Facist For Reading It"

instead of coming and ranting to someone who has spoken extensivelyyyy about politics in this fandom space - both with fandom material and with elections, gaza, the uk riots etc etc - and is a huge advocate of dicussions and debates, put this energy into something productive.

like actual facists. real world politics and what you could be doing at a local level to help reduce the harm of Actual Facists that are in power right now. not people taking a break from Actual Facism to read fanfiction.

ta x

(p.s i'm a homeless, chronically-ill, gay, trans man. what privilege do i have in THISSS fandom space of JK ROWLINGSSSSS worlds, to separate reality from fiction? 😭)

#asks #this is such a WILD ask i probably shouldnt have answered it #but this has been a shite few days and it's 5:30am #and you annoyed me x #anyway! have some receipts. sorry this is so long!#would love to stay and talk but (completely random fun fact) i'm actually guest lecturing today at 8 :/#yeahhhh it's about book bans and censorship because yk. politics and english student #plsplspls anon 🥺🥺 do you have any notes 😖😖 i'm just so uneducated #sorry im getting mean i promise im not mean you just annoyed me x #can confirm messrsrarchives on tumblr is not a facist #incase any of yall were wondering x #byebye this was fun lets not do this again actually

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nottivagos · 1 day ago

Note

Mechanic Daniel is haunting my thoughtsssss👨🏻‍🔧

Just imagine readers car is making a few funny noises coming into the shop one day and instead of asking the guys or Daniel she thinks hey I can do this myself and show everyone I’m not just a pretty face, I’ve watched Daniel enough to know what’s going on right? Wrong. After the shop is closed reader somehow makes her car even worse not noticing mechanic Danny has come back for something and is less than happy, I neeeeed to know how you think he’d react😭🙏and what he’d do to reader 😉

It's that time again! Welcome to Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Tuesday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: GUYS. ANOTHER NONNIE WANTS ME DEAD. this is not a drill. anywho, LOVED THIS IDEA. ugh angry dilfs.. 😵‍💫.. i kinda switched it up a little with reader going to ask danny first (i hope u dont mind! i'd just had this idea that she was so ditzy she literally went to a con man for a car.) but the plot after that is the same <3

taglist: @orangeblossomsintheair

“I told you to not buy a shit car off of ‘im,” Danny grumbled, rubbing his temples with annoyance. “But fine,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, “I’ll fix your car,” he groaned, yet his voice held some gentleness to it. “Pass ‘em over, pet,” he flashed his rough, oil-stained palm out towards you, demanding you give your car keys over.

“Really?” your eyes brightened, that glint of happiness ever so more noticeable. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed your appreciation, passing over your car keys into his hand. He responded to your over-bubbly response with a disinterested grunt, nodding as he pocketed your keys, pulling out a cigarette before turning on his heel to take his well deserved smoke break after speaking to you.

However, Danny’s ‘I’ll fix your car’ meant that you were getting it back in his own time. Your boss never understood the concept of a timeframe, or in this instance, a deadline. You needed your car badly, and quick too. You couldn’t help but sympathise with him slightly, he was drowned in work, but that wasn’t an excuse in this instance.

It didn’t help that he wasn’t impressed by who you’d bought your car off. Maybe he was a little biassed, a tinge of jealousy behind that motive, but that could be suppressed by the mechanic. He’d advised you not to buy something from a rival car dealership (with a notorious legacy of selling “useless pieces of crap that deserved to be in a scrapyard”, in his words) in the local area, but the offers he was providing to you were amazing! Too bad that the car had a hundred problems you couldn’t fix. Too bad that you were too much of a pretty face whilst lacking the brains to see a con artist in his element.

Maybe you were being too impatient. Daniel was a busy man, but surely he’d make some time for you? After all, you were the one sucking him off during after-work hours, surely he’d make you the exception. Unfortunately, your hopes were far from reality. Danny was living in a ‘laid-back’ mindset ever since his divorce, doing tasks when he wanted to do them. Not when they needed to be done by. His customers knew not to complain, or they’d face the wrath of an aggressive mechanic nearly throwing a wrench at their head for rushing him.

‘Death by wrench’ was something you definitely didn’t want your ultimate demise to be known as, so you sat silently, despite the irritating urge to go and ask Danny if he’d even thought of starting on your car playing in the back of your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be better if you tried to mend your car yourself. Not only would it take the stress of Danny and the guys, but also you could prove to them that you were not just the ‘pretty face in reception that only makes a good fuck for Dan’.

So guess what you stupidly decided to do, a rush of confidence influencing your brash decision. Fix your car! You waited (rather impatiently) for Danny and the guys to go on their lunch and a shared smoke break, knowing they’d take 2 hours instead of the actual designated 30 minutes, to try and mend your poor machine. It had only been making a few weird noises… Easy fix. Right?

Wrong! Despite ogling over Danny whilst he fixed cars, believing all of that daydreaming about him whilst watching would come to good use, you soon discovered that you were not a car mechanic. And instead… useless. Well, useless wasn’t the nicest term to use. If you had maybe asked one of the guys or Danny himself for some advice, the car’s ‘wheezing and sputtering’ problem would’ve been an easy fix. But instead, giving you a wrench and a power to ‘fix’ your car ultimately made its problem worse.

The minutes turned into hours, and somehow it was already the end of the working day. The garage was silent, apart from your annoyed huffs and puffs as you continued to try and mend what you’d already broken even more.

Pouting, you wiped your sweaty forehead, not acknowledging the unamused grunts from behind you. Whilst you’d been sucked into your own world of mending your car, Danny had been watching you, agitated of course, silently whilst he rested against the countertop.

“What a shit job you've done.” A husky, unamused voice bellowed from behind you. “For a girl who ogles over me all day whilst I work, I’d suspect you could do better than.. whatever this is.”

Eyes widened as your breathing hitched. Fuck, he did not sound happy, or amused at what you’d done. Turning on your heel, you faced him with a nervous smile. “B-Boss!” you exclaimed as a blurt, “I was just trying to fix it on my own!”

“Thought I’d told you to wait,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He was resting against the worktop, burly arms crossed against his broad chest. “And instead of waitin’ like a good girl, your car is now even more fucked.”

“B-but—!”

“But nothing,” he grunted with distaste, pushing himself off of the counter towards you. In a swift movement, he had your front pushed onto the bonnet of the car, ass high up in the sky as you let out a small yelp.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?” he sighed, as if he was scolding a child, large palms gripping your hips as you rested your chest against the bonnet of the car. “Always so impatient,” he murmured, fingertips trailing down to your clothed ass which was becoming more visible as your dress rode up your curves, “always so needy. Fuck, you really know how to piss me off, petal.”

Large hands came to brush your skirt up your body, revealing your clothed bottom to Danny more clearly. He hummed with satisfaction as calloused fingers hooked underneath your panties, the cool air hitting your slick pussy almost immediately as he ripped them down your legs.

“Can’t even have a smoke without you goin’ against what I’ve told you to do,” he added, swatting your ass with force. The slap made you yelp, tears foolishly forming in your eyes as your hips jerked forward upon impact.

“That—” another whack to your throbbing flesh, “—was for being impatient—,” he grunted upon another harsh impact, his hand now leaving a red mark against your asscheek, sobs now escaping your lips. “And this—” the clap echoed around the quiet workshop as you whined, “—is for making an easy fix even worse for me to do.”

A foolish whimper followed. A strangled sob as you felt your pussy become slightly wetter. Daniel brought his face down to your ear, his ragged breaths rattling your eardrums ever so slightly.

“Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll stop,” he whispered huskily into your ear, hot breath burning the shell of your ear as you bit your bottom lip, mascara smudged by the tears you’d shed. His hand ghosted over your throbbing curves, the distance teasing you as your body was tricked into thinking he would smack it again.

“I-I’m sorry, Danny!” you blurted loudly, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks like a little girl. “I won’t try and fix a car on my own again, I-I- promise!” you squeaked helplessly.

“Good girl,” Danny hummed, moving away from you to the workbench to pick up his toolbox whilst you rearranged your clothes.

When you’d finished, he looked at you with a soft smile, despite the irritation that he’d have to stay even later to fix your problems. His doe brown eyes looked sweeter than they usually did, as he leaned in for a little kiss. The kiss was ever so soft, as if it was a ‘sorry’ for spanking you so hard, but he let his lips linger on your burning cheek for a while after.

“You should probably get off,” he said, his voice gentle as he looked at you. “It’s late, I’d hate to keep you here any longer,” Danny added with a soft glance, before rummaging through the box for the tools he needed.

You were about to head to the exit before Danny’s head sprung back around, as he reached out for your arm.

“Oh, and one other thing,” he called out, wrapping your hand around your wrist for a moment. “Next time you want me to do somethin’, just ask. Hell, nag me until I don't want you to nag me anymore," he chuckled with a shake of his head, “I’m more than willing to do it for you if you need it done as soon as possible, princess.”

like divorced mechanic!danny? consider sending me an ask so you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

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