#a scratching board he has been guarding all night

[psychosodomy]

i keep calling oreo (cat) orange cat-brained but hes been so pissed off at me because i wouldnt give him my cheerios when he had treats. so clearly hes sharper than an orange cat to hold a grudge against me all night. hes just misogynistic or something i guess

[eldritchscribblings]

Ever At Odds

Thranduil X Reader

Part 2

Reader is an artist who has taken up a temporary residence in Mirkwood, but keeps bumping into an irritatingly handsome elf king. What happens when a late night encounter forces them together?

Word Count: 2876

Warnings:

swearing

part two will have smut

Notes: I'm sorryyyyyy I didn't want there to be a part two but it took me so long to write this part and I wanted to get it out asap for y'all <3 Pt 2 will be out soon, I'm moving across the country, so writing is slow rn.

A cold autumn wind blew through the halls of Mirkwood, biting into the very bones of those who dared set foot in the ancient woodland realm. In the ages past that bitter wind would have only howled, but its teeth had grown sharper in recent times. Not only did the wind sink its teeth into those unprepared for the woods, but it had turned its teeth upon its own people; the elves, as well. The time of elves on Middle Earth was drawing to an end.

You, of course, were well aware of that from your perch in Imladris, watching as elves dwindled and men rose to power. You were a long way off from leaving for the Undying Lands yourself, but you had already begun to feel that tug in your soul to move from your idle nest and wander towards the sea. And so you’d decided to bide your time by traveling middle earth and sketching all that was old and new among the elves; making a record of what you’d leave behind. It had been a comforting work to put your brush and pencils to paper and convey the millennia of love and sorrow that each individual stone and sapling possessed, and it had satiated you to know that once your work was completed you could leave Middle Earth with a contented heart. But as every tree must survive a storm at some point, your storm came in the form of an elven man with thick furrowed brows and a disposition that would make soot taste sweet; King Thranduil Oropherion of the Woodland Realm.

You’d arrived in Mirkwood nearly two years prior after being rescued from a giant spider by the guards and losing your favorite quill (poor Flutterflick) among the leaf strewn ground. After a quick interrogation, you were released into Mirkwood to do your duty, and yet everywhere you went for peace and tranquility you seemed to run into the Elven King. The first time it happened you hadn’t realized who he was until he threatened to have you locked in the dungeon for disagreeing with him on the best elven wine and whether charcoal was best used compressed or as a powder. You’d tried to avoid him after that, and yet this maze of a realm kept twisting you back towards him whenever you tried to get away. Which was how you found yourself sitting in an archway sketching your view of the vaulted ceiling within this particular area of the hall in the middle of the night, using a candlestick as a light.

It was the wee hours of the morning; a time you were certain the tall blond of your nightmares would be having one of his own, far away from where you’d secluded yourself. The only noises were the hush of a breeze blowing through an open window and the soft scratching of your pencil against the parchment you’d clipped to the thin drawing board in your lap. Your eyes darted seamlessly from the page to the section of empty hall you were drawing, your steady hand moving quickly to gesture in the wider picture so that detail could blossom with ease when you pulled out your softer charcoal. With the silent night enveloping you, it had been easy to fall into a trance of placing your pencil to paper and letting the world fall away into lines and values. You should’ve known the peace wouldn’t last.

“It’s a bit late for sketching fine architecture.” Thranduil’s voice echoed from behind you, and you sighed and pressed your lips together in irritation.

“My aim was to be uninterrupted, My King,” you spoke slowly and surely, presenting each word as nothing more than it claimed to be in hopes he would leave you alone. “It’s a bit late for anyone to roam the halls alone, don’t you think?”

“I am not alone, and neither are you now.” Realizing you had no intent to face him, he walked around and knelt in front of you with a disappointedly curious expression. “How fortunate it is that we can keep each other company on such lonesome nights.”

“Oh, please.” You met his steely blue gaze with a challenging one of your own, attempting to prove yourself unafraid and ward him off. “You and I both know that the two of us together always leads to disaster.”

“Only because you bring disaster with you everywhere.” Thranduil laughed softly and licked the pad of his forefinger before pinching out the flame of your candle between his forefinger and thumb. You were grateful for the darkness to hide a traitorous blush growing on your cheeks, undercutting your disturbed expression. “Finish your sketch in the daylight. You’ll make fewer proportional errors.”

“Is poisoning your kindness with insults meant to be amusing or alluring? Because it is neither.” The only reason you were so confident with your words was because the worst Thranduil could do is send you where you already planned to go ahead of schedule. Of course that was only in theory. In truth, a part of you enjoyed the little games you played together; the spiteful spitting of venom brought energy to your day, negative or positive. You couldn’t deny he was a handsome King, but you could deny giving him the satisfaction of knowing you held him in any regard.

“Have I misled myself on the quality of your mettle? Forgive me if I have caused any true harm.” The first sentence was a sharp retort, the same wit you had begun to expect from him. The second was genuine in a way that surprised you.

“Don’t delude yourself. The only way you could bring any harm to me is with a blade. And I doubt you’d want to stain this lovely hallway.” You responded with a similar genuineness that you hid within your humor, although by the look of his expression he seemed relieved enough to surmise he’d picked up your intent.

What the fuck was your intent? Half flirting with a widowed king? He was an elf who could toss you out a window or carry you down to the dungeons as easily as he’d carry a sack of grain. You inhaled and sharply shoved your charcoal pencil back into your pouch, looking away from Thranduil to shove the image of him carrying sacks of wheat like a handsome miller’s son out of your mind. Truth is you’d daydreamed about kissing Thranduil to shut him up as much as you’d daydreamed about killing him for the same outcome. It was strange to think of how a two letter difference changed the entire context of your fantasies.

“I am no mortal man so easily prone to violence. I take offense that you would think I am capable of such a thing.” Thranduil’s voice changed tone, causing you to look at him again. He was dead serious with a furrowed brow as he knelt before you, reaching forward to take your hand in his. “My guards brought you here and promised you safety. I will not make liars of them.”

“A noble, if impersonal, thought.” You responded with an equal amount of seriousness, gathering your supplies in one hand and placing the other in his as he helped you to a standing position. His intent mystified you, making you unsure of if you’d been wrong about him or if this was a lure to finally catch you when you least expected it. Either way, as you began to walk down the hall back to your rooms he walked beside you with the smallest hint of a smile on his otherwise serious face.

“Do you really think of me as cruel and unkind?” Thranduil asked softly after you had traversed a fair amount of the hall.

“Yes and no.” You replied after taking a moment to chew through your words. It was strange of him to ask the question, stranger still for you to answer honestly. You were friends, but it was a friendship that danced a fine line between confidants and the king and his favorite jester. “I think you capable of cruelty. I think your role requires unkindness. Your presentation fits the role you fulfill. I would no more expect a thatched roof on a palace than a wisened king to be tender hearted.”

“I don’t like the word wisened; it makes me feel old.” Thranduil interjected despite you being done speaking. “But I understand. And I appreciate your point of view. You’re insightful. It’s fitting for your role as an observer. I am curious, I always see you drawing and sketching instead of talking to your fellows. I’m curious as to what you draw when you’re not intending on showing it off to people.”

“Truth be told, it’s mostly animals and people. I carry around smaller sketchbooks for those and it’s idle work to do while I watch and listen to those around me.” You felt the words leave your mouth before you could stop them. Not even death would stop you from blabbing about your art when prodded. “Of course, for those sketches I prefer drawing with metals. You can use a stylus made of silver to make marks upon parchment as well as any charcoal. It’s quite beautiful in the light.”

“Then I must see them.” Thranduil stopped abruptly, causing you to have to turn around after several paces and realize he was at the door to your chambers. If you’d known you were close to your rooms you would’ve just stayed quiet. Having the Elven King in your bedroom, looking at your art, was a bad idea.

Art was your escape, your passion, your diary. There were notes about your feelings and poems about your life scrawled among the pages among grocery lists and drawings of cats napping in sunlight. There were also -you realized with sinking dread- one or two drawings of the King that you did not want him to see. You had to get out of this.

“Sire, it’s very late-“

“Nonsense, you’re up later than this quite frequently, as am I.” He stood by your door, waiting for you to open it for him. His excitement faltered for a moment as he seemed to consider the situation, and he then added; “If you truly do not desire it, I will not impose myself.”

“No, I simply hesitate because I am afraid you will not find my art as impressive as you hope.” Your eyes were firmly on the handle of your door as you opened it and allowed yourself and Thranduil into your rooms. He was very close to you as he entered behind you, and you caught a hint of his scent of petrichor and spices in a way that sent your head spinning. 

Your rooms were simple. Far from grand with books and papers strewn about haphazardly. As you entered you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you at the state of your things, but you would not let it show. Your bed was in one corner, luckily you had remembered to make it up before leaving, but the bedside tables were covered in strewn papers and pencils. In the opposing corner there was a desk with your notebooks and sketches, and that was where Thranduil made his way to as soon as he entered.

“You live your life messily.” He stated, looking around the room before passively picking up one of your loose sketches from your desk. It was a picture of a young couple walking the halls together arm in arm, oblivious to any observer. Oblivious to you. “I do not question it. You prefer to be hidden away whenever you leave your chambers, so it must be comforting to have such things to hide yourself behind in your own dwelling.” He chuckled, glancing at you as he perused through your art, leafing through the piles of sketches on your desk. It wasn’t as if you could tell him not to, and although you were surprised at his understanding of you, you’d never admit to yourself or him whether he was right or not. 

“Or perhaps you simply collect too much and want it all near you, like a raven building its nest.” Thranduil continued despite your silence, unphased by it. He reached for a drawing closer to you, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest moment that sent a shameful shiver down your spine. It was only when his gaze left you that you realized he had grabbed one of the drawings of him, but before you could protest, he had turned it over to look at it. It was one of the less embarrassing ones; he was sitting with his chin resting on his fist, staring off into some uncaptured distance. His face was peaceful and yet melancholy. It had been at one of the star celebrations that you had forgotten the name of last year; you had been sat at the sidelines happily drawing those partaking in the merriment when you had seen him. His sadness as he sat on his perch above his kin had captured your attention, and you hastened to put his likeness on your paper lest the spell of the moment be broken. He was beautiful to you in that moment, beautiful and wounded. The moment had ended with your eyes meeting and him sending a prideful smirk your way that left your stomach churning, but you would always remember how striking it was to see past his hardened exterior for one brief moment.

As you watched him then, taking in that art piece that had truly cemented your growing fascination with the widowed king, you could not decipher the emotions on his face. His brow furrowed as he traced the lines of his face as they were portrayed on paper, and he hunched over the drawing to better see its details. You almost made a joke, just to break the hideous silence, and yet something stopped you. Your words were stoppered in your throat with tenuous curiosity and something inside you told you to bite your tongue.

“I remember this night,” Thranduil whispered, tracing the roughly sketched embroidery on his portrait. “I was lost in thought, not one of them was pleasant, but my mind was determined to see the end of the chain. I could sense eyes on me, but there is always one person or another watching my every move.” He looked up at you, and the depth of his gaze was hauntingly sirenic, like a calm sea below a dark gray sky. “You were different. I saw your brow furrowed as you looked at me, always fiery and determined to find a flaw where no one else will.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face, no more than a twitch of his eyes, and yet it comforted you. 

“A gap in your personified stoicism is more so due to a lack of divinity than any flaw.” The words flowed easily from your lips, and you stepped closer to him so you could look at your art. “Truthfully, when I found you ‘lacking’, I found you more fascinating than I did when I believed you perfect. Like how a fly, when caught in amber, reveals the quality of the jewel.”

“Am I to be the fly in this metaphor?” He teased, lowering the drawing and stepping closer to you.

“You are aware of what I intended, my lord.” The tone of the conversation had turned lighter, but the air remained tense. It was taking all your might to will yourself not to look at his lips, or his chest, or anywhere but his eyes or your feet. You were afraid any slight unexpected movement would be perceived the wrong way and break the wavering thread of connection between you. 

“What if I were not? What if we were to spend another year misinterpreting each other? Dragging out your stay here in Mirkwood for no perceivable reason?” He seemed as hesitant to move as you were, waiting for some unknown signal to allow him to act.

“Then I suppose, should I be prevented from completing my work, I would need to stay here longer.” You were beginning to catch on. Perhaps there was more to this banter and teasing than you had originally thought. Perhaps the guilt-ridden attraction that had festered deep within your gut was mirrored in his own tumultuous emotions. You leaned slightly closer, taking your drawing from his hands and setting aside. 

“To properly record Mirkwood in such sketches as yours would take decades…” Thranduil drew out the idea, but did not finish it. Instead, he stepped forward and tenderly placed his hand upon your cheek, caressing you gently. “May I kiss you?”

The thought struck you like a blind man meeting a drunken bird, and you inhaled sharply as reality dug its cruel claws into your skin. He was the king. He had asked you to kiss him. But more than the king, he was Thranduil. Your playful nemesis who was the bane of all your existence and yet whose presence you yearned for in the darkest parts of night. Was this change in your relationship worth it? Was this a risk worth taking?

“Yes.”

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Warmth in the Sheets: Bigby Wolf x Reader (Semi-NSFW)

He didn’t deserve something like this.

He didn’t deserve warmth and comfort for his despicable crimes against his own people, his own kind - if you could even consider any of them to be his own kind. Every time he even thought of that or even hear the mutter whispers of Fables on the streets, he would find himself smirking sarcastically ever so slightly.

Because they’re not his kind. None of them are his kind; his kind died when he was left alone after his mother passed and his brothers vanished. None of them knew what it was like to grow up the way he did, and because Fables - the ones who appear mostly mundy that is - judge him as though he were lower than them. They fear the unknown, and yet, they poke around in the darkness and act as though they’re innocent when the ugly truth comes barreling out (albeit as a giant wolf the height of a house). Princes and Queens and Fable royalty scoff and sneer at him as though he is their unruly guard dog.

But that’s what he is, isn’t he?

An unruly guard dog who has to beat the shit out of Fables who once ruled enchanted kingdoms and Fables who were the most popular and liked of all. Or as the plaque on his crumbling, cigarette-stained wall states: Sheriff of Fabletown.

But in all of the stenches that makes up lower Manhattan and the filth that Fables bring in from the mundy world, he had finally found a safe haven in all the spit and rot that was this cruel world.

Through softly patterned curtains, sunlight filtered through, seeping through the slightest part in the drapes to shine onto his eyes. Screwing them closed didn’t help, so the wolf simply let out a grumble deep from his throat and cracked his eyes open.

His body laid mostly naked, wrapped in the softest sheets he had ever felt, softer than how he remembers his mother’s fur. The bruises and scratches and scrapes had closed somewhere throughout the night, the aches had ebbed away into nothingness. He laid there in pure bliss, one of the few little luxuries he got when he didn’t stay in his crumbling apartment.

Bigby took in the scents of the cushioned pillow cradling his head, hints of soft lavender and roses dancing with a scent even nicer on his nose. The sheets were no better, smelling wonderfully, tickling his nose.

In this room, he had no need to reach for the crumpled cigarette carton and lighter that sat on the end table with his wallet and phone. In this room, he no longer felt the painful blows battered onto his solid body. In this room, for the first time in a very long time, he felt safe.

Bigby turned over, the sheets twisting at his cut waist and over his board back, the wolf no longer wanting sun in his eyes. He wanted something else in his field of view, to which he got immediately.

There was a figure in the bed with him, almost fully naked like himself with just underwear on. The blankets were barely covering anything, allowing Bigby’s eyes to roam. Wolfish brown eyes trailed the nape of the neck downwards, along the spine which had been slightly twisted by the sheets to the legs tangled in them. There were some marks on their back, some you barely would notice to ones that stated obviously what had happened the night before. From little bruises the size of quarters to red raised carvings down your back, the signs were all there.

The scent radiating off of them was heavenly, music to his nose. Their heartbeat in his ears was like a steady soft drumming.

Bigby reached a hand over the small space between his person and the other Fable in the room. Roughened fingers gently - the only time he was gentle really - wrapped around their shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into the meat of their shoulder which earned him a small moan from their sleep. He would be lying if he didn’t feel slightly bad for waking them up, but it was only slightly.

He didn’t feel this with anyone before. He didn’t feel this with Snow.

He didn’t feel safe, he didn’t feel loved. He felt like he was being used if anything when it came to how Snow was with him.

But you; you actually cared. You were one of the few Fables who didn’t actively give him trouble or berate him or treat him like dirt. You didn’t judge him on his past, you didn’t poke and prod.

You twisted around too, the sheets now off, both of you finding it too warm in the room for them to be on the bed. Your eyes had peeked open just a bit, just enough for him to see the color of your irises through your fluttering eyelids as you blinked away the sleep and dreams.

He remembered when he first saw you for the first time since coming here. He had come to your apartment with questions about an unruly neighbor causing issues, and you had even invited him in for coffee.

He remembered when you two first kissed in the darkened hallway right outside of your apartment door, the neon lights from outside filtering in. You two had gone out to some bar to hang out and he had wanted to walk you back to your front door.

He remembered when you two first made love in your apartment, the aftermath was worse for you than him. The markings on your body were hard to hide and explain, and he enjoyed every second of it.

“Morning,” you purred, your voice still dripping with the clingings of sleep and exhaustion you attempted to shake off.

“Morning,” he echoed back.

His voice was still scratchy, dark and gravely. His eyes lingered down to your neck. There were red blotches on your throat, but his eyes mostly trained on the bite mark settled at the crook of your neck. Sure there were more marks all down the rest of your body but that was his favorite he left on you.

“Proud of your little art show?” you huffed sarcastically as you rubbed at the still sore bite mark. Bigby only growled softly, the wolfman snaked his hand down to your waist and dragged you in closer to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of his body bouncing off of you, no wonder why there was no need for the sheets if he was around. The corners of your lips curled into a slight smirk, Bigby could see it reflect in your eyes. His puppy brown eyes had tinged to a bright gold, his pupils had dilated to the size of near-pinpoints. He felt you shiver with lust under his grip. “My my, Mr. Wolf, how big your eyes are.”

Bigby jolted and had pinned you to your bed all of a sudden. His big hands and wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the sides of your head while he straddled you by your waist. Your eyes were full of lust, he could smell it dripping off of you, it was all over in the air that he swore he could lick it. He leaned down, his grit teeth now a mouth full of sharpened teeth barely brushed over your sensitive neck.

“And how do you plan on explaining these?”

Before you could coyly ask him to elaborate, Bigby clamped his fangs down on the opposite shoulder, yanking out a pleasureful cry from you.

Bigby sat at the small kitchen table, carefully sipping scorching hot coffee as he eyed the news playing on the small tv on the kitchen counter. It was some mundy bullshit happening that weekend, some festival, Bigby didn’t really pay attention to that kind of crap. He just needed the background noise as he glanced back down at the file on the tabletop.

He was suddenly interrupted by a plate full of various breakfast foods being placed on top of the police file he was just looking at, everything still steaming with warmth and love.

“Police work can wait,” you hummed, handing him a knife and fork, “you need to eat.”

Bigby playfully rolled his eyes and took another sip of his coffee. You had turned back to the stove, allowing Bigby to catch a glimpse of you.

You were wearing one of his white button-ups unbuttoned with nothing else but socks and underwear on.

As Bigby took a big bite of food, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and just sit there.

In utter, unspoken delight, he knew he was safe and loved and happy.

And home.

[d4rkthots]

夜の女王

(Queen of the night part two)

Cis!seonghwa!top (assassin/mafia associate) x Fem!reader!sw!tch (mafia boss/dealer) 2k words.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

TW (mentions of m^der, violence, and drugs…etc blah blah just don’t read if you’re sensitive or under 18 minors DNI. smut warning ig….unprotected sex, creamp!e, -use protection guys..-, breaking and entering?, dry humping, slight choking..impregnation if you squint. Rough sex, seonghwa tries to make it up to you but he gets an important call…your safety was his top priority..)

Days pass without word from you, seonghwa's anxiety grows. He's holed up in his apartment, watching the news for any hint of trouble. The story about Yuto's demise breaks, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He dials your number, needing to know for sure. The line rang longer than necessary before you answered.

”Hello…..?”

"It's done then?" seonghwa asks gruffly, skipping the pleasantries. "The news says Yuto's dead. That was you, wasn't it?" He pauses, waiting for your confirmation.

you smirk on the other side of the phone “mmh…”

"Good." seonghwa sounds satisfied. "That's... that's good. You handled it quietly. No heat on you." He takes a drag of his cigarette. "What now? You're gonna take over Ryui's operations?"

“Yeah, now that Yuto and his men are gone…I’ll start from scratch…everything fell into place, I thank you for that…but I’m curious…..whenever the heat goes down what will you do since Ryui’s been sentenced to life…hmm?”

"I dunno... I thought I might ask if... if there's a place for me with you." seonghwa's voice is hesitant, almost hopeful. "I was Ryui's right-hand man for a reason, you know. And I feel like I owe you, for doubting you for all that time."

you chuckle lightly sucking your teeth for a Second in deep thought. “Okay….fine…”

"Alright then." seonghwa's voice brightens. "I'll lay low a while longer, make sure the heat's off me. Then I'll come back to Seoul, yeah?" He pauses, then chuckles. "You know, I never thought I'd be workin' for a woman like you."

You just smile before hanging up.

seonghwa sets down his phone, feeling a sense of relief and hope. He spends the next few months laying low, keeping a low profile until he's certain the heat has died down. Then, he packs his bags and boards a flight back to Seoul.

—————————————————————————————————————————————

You lay on your bed, thoughts and worries crowding your mind. You slowly drag yourself to sit up yawning gently as you get out of bed and walk to your bedroom door swinging it open. you make your way down the large hallway of your manor.

But something was off. You look back down the hallway, you always had at least two men stand in front of your bedroom door for safety reasons. But they weren’t there. You quickly ran back to your room, yanking out a drawer and ravaging through the clothes grabbing your pistol. Before you can turn around two arms grasp your sides one of the hands fly up snatching the gun away and throwing it to the floor his cold breath drew closer to your ear slightly pushing you further into your desk his crotch pressed firmly into your backside…

his hands grip her sides possessively as he presses his chest against her back. He nuzzles his face into the side of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "Mmh, you were expecting someone else?" He whispers seductively, his gaze lingering on the gun on the floor.

“Just being careful” You turn to face him “You broke in? you couldn’t call and say you were back in Seoul…?” You emphasized your words by slightly pushing him back. “…where are my guards?…hmmm?..”

seonghwa chuckles, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he steps back, keeping his arms around your waist. "Call and say I was back? Nah, I didn't want to give you time to prepare or plan anything. As for your guards, they're currently...disposed of."

Your eyes widen slightly “you killed them? Hmm?”

"Mhm, and I made sure they knew why they were insignificant…before I put them down." seonghwa's smile turns predatory. "You like that? That I took care of them for you?" He looks at you searching your face for approval.

A look of amusement creeps onto your face. You nod seductively “yea I do~”

seonghwa's grin widens, and he pulls you closer once more, his hands sliding down to grip your bottom. "Good. I think I deserve a reward then, don't you?" He leans in to kiss your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin, you shiver softly as he continues. "Something…” he pauses “you've been so busy haven't you? too busy to take care of yourself…let me take care of you tonight hmm?~”

"Mmm?" seonghwa carries you over to the bed, laying you down gently before climbing on top of her.

you blush deeply at his words, your heart racing in your chest “okay…”

His eyes light up and meet yours, his pupils dilated with desire. his fingers already working at the tie of your silk robe. his hands finally free your robe from your body. He pushes it off your shoulders, throwing it onto the carpet floor, revealing your pale skin and the black lace lingerie beneath.

you sit up allowing him access to the back of your bra.

seonghwa complies eagerly, unsnapping your bra and tossing it aside. His hands slide down to your hips, his thumbs hooking into the sides of your lace underwear. "Lift up," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. you gently ease your butt up allowing him to pull your panties down your legs, revealing your bare, smooth pussy.

He sets your panties aside before spreading your legs wide, his eyes devouring the sight of you "Fuck," he breathes, his gaze lingering on your pink folds before finally meeting your gaze his hands reach out to touch you, his fingers tracing the delicate folds of your pussy. He gently parts your lips, revealing your clit and inner labia "So perfect," he murmurs, his thumbs gently rubs your clit as he looks up at you with adoring eyes causing you to moan out softly.

He crawls up your body, his eyes never leaving yours. He kisses you. "I want to feel you wrapped around me."

you grin against his lips…“I guess you earned it…hm?”

seonghwa smirks mischievously and quickly unbuckles his pants, shoving them down with his boxers to free his erection. He lines up at your glistening entrance, his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly pushes inside, in response you whine beneath him and gently grind your hips up into his hands clawing at his back. he was so big you felt slight discomfort like he was swelling bigger inside. "Wrap your legs around me," he says gently.

you considered disobeying but play along locking your legs around his waist. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head as he begins to thrust inside you, his pace slow and deliberate. "Look at me," he growls, his eyes dark and intense. "I want to see your face when I'm inside you."

your dark brown eyes lock onto his as he continues thrusting into your tight channel. "That's it," seonghwa praises, his voice low and gravelly. His grip on your wrists tightens as his pace quickens, his hips snapping back and forth as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. "You feel so good, baby." he groans at the feeling, his thrusts becoming even more erratic as he gets closer to his climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he curses, his eyes rolling back in his head. He pulls out suddenly and flips you over, slamming back inside without warning. your body jolts forward your legs trembling slightly as you grip onto the bed sheets, your insides squeezing around his dick the tip of it pressed against your cervix.

"Grip the headboard," seonghwa demands, his hands tight on your hips as he pounds into her from behind

in a state of eagerness you grip the headboard arching your back and grinding back to meet his brutal thrusts.

His pace quickens as he feels your hands tighten on the headboard with each thrust. "You like that, baby?" he growls, his voice hoarse with passion. "You like when I pound into you like this?" you nod incoherently, his depth driving you to the edge of sanity.

"I can't hear you," seonghwa growls teasingly, reaching around to grip your throat softly, angling your head to the side so he can see your face. "Tell me you love it, tell me I'm fucking you right, baby." you didnt need to he could tell by the were clenching down onto him he couldn’t staring at the way his fat cock disappeared between your puffy lips the sight was almost enough to make him climax. “Yes! Seonghwa~I Fucking love it!~ your so fucking big!~” You managed to cry out between thrusts.

“Fuck, you’re so hot~” his hips pistoning back and forth as he grips her throat tighter. "You're taking me so well, baby.” his fingers rubbing your clit furiously as he pounds into you fucking you insane. Your legs tremble intensely as you feel yourself growing closer, Seonghwa caught on as well. "I wanna feel you squeeze around my cock as you cum." He bites down on your shoulder, marking you as his as he pushes you over the edge.

You let out a high-pitched wail, your body convulsing as you reach your peak. your inner walls squeeze him tightly, milking your own release from his body. "seonghwa! I'm coming!!~"

"Oh, baby, that's it," seonghwa moans, his control snapping, as he follows suit, thrusting in balls deep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hips jerking forward as he spills into your womb with a low groan. He gently rocks into you slowly, milking every last drop from his dick as he nuzzles his face against your neck, his body covering yours protectively. he breathes, his voice low and satisfied. "your finally mine~,"

You lay beneath him catching your breath weakly clenching around his retreating length. "Mmm, stop that, baby," seonghwa chuckles, nipping at your earlobe, "You'll have me hard again in no time." He withdraws from your body. You giggle softly, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling away “dont think you’ll be topping every time you simply got lucky…~”

seonghwa raises an eyebrow at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Oh? And what makes you think you'll be the one topping next time, hmm?"

“you’ll find out soon enough~ try not to think about it too much…..you’ll ruin that pretty face of yours..~” You reply playfully.

He chuckles darkly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your collarbone. "Oh, I'll be thinking about it, alright. And you'll be the death of me." he grins pulling the blankets up over the two of you. "Come here," he murmurs, tugging you close so that your back is pressed against his chest. "Get some sleep, baby."

you nestled against his chest your eyes growing heavier, after a few minutes of silence pass you finally drift off to sleep.

seonghwa holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried in the curve of your neck. He listens to the soft rhythm of your breathing, feeling his own eyes growing heavy. Just as he's about to drift off, his phone buzzes on the nightstand, breaking the peaceful silence.

seonghwa hesitates, torn between ignoring the phone and answering it. Sighing, he reaches for it, sliding out of bed carefully so as not to wake you. He answers the call quietly, slipping out of the bedroom and pulling the door partially closed behind him. "Yeah?"

It was from his informant. “sir there’s an issue, one of Yuto’s cousin’s lived through the explosion word is he’s going to try to assassinate harin because she killed Yuto…he’s planning on going about it tomorrow…”

seonghwa's expression darkens as he listens to the informant's words. "Assassinate Harin?" He repeats, his voice low and deadly. "Get me everything you can on this cousin. I want to know his name, his location, his plan..” He pauses, thinking quickly.

“We got the address about 5 minutes ago, sir..”

"Good, let’s finish this…” seonghwa says grimly. "I'll meet you at the safe house in ten minutes. We'll take care of this tonight." He hangs up the phone, his mind racing with plans. He slips back into the bedroom, his eyes landing on you, sleeping peacefully in their bed.

your eyes flutter open, your hooded eyes landing on his slightly distressed face “what's wrong?…” you ask with a small voice

"Go back to sleep, baby," he says softly, quickly pulling on clothes. "I have something I have to take care of. I'm so sorry, but I'll be back before morning, okay?" He sits on the edge of the bed, tucking your hair back.

You nod softly “please be safe” you kiss him gently

He returns the kiss, deepening it briefly before pulling back. "Always, baby. Lock the door behind me, alright?" He presses one last kiss to your forehead before grabbing his gun and coat, slipping out of the bedroom. You follow after him gently shutting and locking the door before returning to your bed….

Part one ——> (preview)

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[iamchaos1234]

Why not? Hunter headcanons, let's go! (TW mentions of blood, gore, death, bullying, etc)(holy shit that's a lot-)

Since he is a grimwalker that has a few affects on him. In the dark his eyes glow faintly blue, which he hates since it reminds him of Belos.

Another affect of being a grimwalker, since one of the ingredients to create one is Stonesleeper, Hunter's ears are very sensitive and ticklish. Willow loves to scratch him behind the ears, and it helps him sleep

Last grimwalker thing I'll address right now, his hair grows much faster than most. His canines are also a bit more prominent and large, causing a bit of a fanged look

He couldn't die, per se, unless the galderstone was directly damaged or all energy was drained from it too fast, such as using very powerful spells or bleeding so much it spent all its energy and had no time to recover

Hunter got hardly any sleep back as the golden guard as his only time with no duties was after hours, which was a very small time frame at night. And often times instead of sleeping he would research how to help Belos's curse, so at most he normally got 2-4 hours.

In addition, even after he ran away from the emperors coven and even in the human realm, he felt guilty for sleeping more than he used to, thinking of it as a waste of precious time.

He sleeps way better when with Willow or Luz

Hunter, after the events of Watching and Dreaming, went back to the human realm with Luz. He needed time to recover from everything, and went with Luz to help with repairs. After a couple years he returned back fully, staying with Darius. He considers himself both a Noceda and a Deamonne

He 100% got obsessed with video games in the human realm. His favorites were Zelda, especially BOTW and TOTK. He also loves animal crossing and pokemon sword. His favorite pokemon is Zacian.

Hunter hates eating in front of others. He has extreme food guilt and starves himself temporarily as a punishment to himself if he makes a mistake. This stems from the fact Belos would cut off his food if he messed up, as well as water.

When he upsets others he will often hide in the basement in a closet. Hunter feels removing himself is the best solution to most problems. Gus is the only one who really knows this, though Luz finds out later.

Panic attacks got more common after Hollow Mind, though he did have a few before then. Every time he would lock his door and curl up in a corner. He didn't want to show weakness.

After Hollow Mind he would have very strong reactions to certain triggers, and it only got worse as things continued. His eyes glowing was one of them, as well as when his hair got too long. Emperors guards also made him panic, worried they would take him back. Even Belos's name would make him start hyperventilating.

The scar across his cheek is from Belos, who got mad at him when he snapped at Belos from concern about the curse. He blamed himself fully.

The nick on his ear however, is from a particularly brutal training session. His ear was sliced almost in half, and it bled a lot but he kept fighting. He won.

Hunter has so many scars its hard to count. Some from Golden Guard training, which was vigorous and brutal. Others from taking hits for his friends in the final battles. There is one scar on his upper arm he got from tripping down a flight of stairs in the emperors palace. He isn't proud of that.

He feels guilty for letting Luz get a scar. He doesn't want anyone else to have to live with it like he does. He has a hard time not tearing up when he sees it.

Hunter went to school with Luz at her human school for the years he lived with her, saying he was a brother who had been in a boarding school before. He was very protective of Luz but ended up being a target for bullying as well.

Despite look tough to others he is very sensitive. He would sometimes come home with tears in his eyes from those bullies. Luz beat the shit out of them the very next day. Eventually they just stopped since Luz started fighting back

Hunter hates crying. He only really cries in front of Luz, but anyone else he finds it incredibly stupid and embarrassing. It's just a weakness he should hide is what he thinks. So he normally does. He had to back as the golden guard, so why not now?

Multiple times when training he almost died. One time his stomach got ripped open by a slitherbeast during the venture up the knee. That scar in particular he avoids looking at

Hunter is very strongly bonded with Luz. They act very much like true siblings, often annoying each other on purpose and wrestling, but both know when to stop and both are very comforting and protective of the other.

His connection with Vee is a bit less strong, but he did punch a bully hard enough to knock out a few teeth when they were messing with her. So that's something.

Hunter apologizes to Vee almost constantly for being one of the people to imprison her. He offers to have her punish him, which absolutely horrified her. They are chill now, and like to binge watch shows together

He 100% has a fursona which he is very proud of. Hunter would never admit it but he considers himself a furry. It's one of his ways to express himself, and Luz is very supportive of this, helping him design the fursona

At human school Hunter managed to get placed in the same grade as Luz, but he was older than everyone in the classes. He struggled a lot in math, but loved ELA and science. They took him out of class during social studies after he had a severe panic attack during class when the topic reminded him of the whole disaster with Belos

Hunter likes to draw in his free time, at first heavily picked up from Luz. But he eventually gained his own art style, which was a bit more sharp and edgy

He loves musicals and will always stay up to watch them even if everyone else already fell asleep.

Hunter likes rock music, but also enjoys most pop songs. He loves to dance along with Willow to love songs. He hates country music with a passion.

He considers Gus his closest friend. The two absolutely love having sleepovers in which they binge cosmic frontier and share about what's going on in the different dimensions.

Willow ends up asking Hunter out the day he moves back to the boiling isles. He ended up running away, feeling like he was being taunted and that it was some sort of illusion. Willow goes to find him, and he ends up accepting.

It takes him time to get used to dating Willow, but he is very affectionate. Willow loves picking him up.

As a younger kid, Belos was a bit more nice to him and would sometimes play around with him. This was purely to gain his trust, but Hunter still wonders if he ever really cared.

In his time during the human realm after everything he visits Darius like, every other day. They become very close

Hunter definitely has a sweet tooth

My hand hurts but that's all for now lol. Wanna here more headcanons for TOH? Tell me who you want next in the comments, thanks for reading!

[thesharkspajamas]

James and Angus play cricket - NO SPOILERS

@im-kikimon

Harriet: James' pallas cat daemon. Assume only James can hear her unless is specified as 'aloud'

Context: James and Lydia are staying with the Bells post season one (dw no spoilers here for the show or the books). James has discovered a love for baking with Helen and a talent for pipe icing. He and Lydia have agreed to help her ice 100ish cupcakes for a commission to the bakery. - I have actually posted a similar scene before if you want to read it, but it DOES CONTAIN SPOILERS for season 1.

This is also part of a larger chapter of a growing fic (~20k words) so some parts have been omitted/added to make it make sense, sorry if the flow is a bit off.

Anita is an OC, she's Helen's sister and is a foster parent. Helen rang her to get some advice about James and Lydia staying with them.

Some cricket terminology:

Whites: cricket is traditionally played in white trousers and t-shirt. This kit is often referred to as ‘cricket whites’ or just ‘whites’

Lad: young man - British slang

Guards: here it’s cricket terminology for where a batsman stands in relation to his stumps.

Stumps: the three sticks behind the batsman in cricket

Bails: little pieces of wood that sit on top of the stumps. If these are knocked off in the right circumstances then the batter is out. They indicate that the stumps have been hit.

James was up early on Sunday morning - hardly surprising as he’d been asleep by eight-thirty last night. He left a note on the chopping board and went for a run with Harriet trotting along beside him. 

His thoughts turned to everything he had to sort out, his obligations to the Beaufort name, supporting Lydia...

“But you’ve got cricket with Angus today. We haven’t played since summer,” Harriet interjected, “and we’ve got to ice the cupcakes for the party.”

Good old Harriet for not letting James get too deep in his own head. He was looking forward to both of those things, “Bet you’re looking forward to the cricket, might be some cricket balls.” He teased Harriet.

She stuck her tongue out at him. Harriet had scratched and gnawed four cricket balls beyond repair while James had been focussing on his bowling once, and since then all unattended cricket balls had had to stay in a zipped bag. She didn’t regret it: not her fault they were leather, and stitched, and ball shaped - like yarn, but better.

They passed a florist’s brimming with colourful blooms and James stopped to take it all in. This was (of course) research for his cupcake designs, not because he liked the look and smell of pretty flowers. 

A young woman came out to meet him, “Morning!” she greeted him cheerily.

“Morning,” James greeted politely, “what are these ones called?” He gently turned a large cluster of blue flowers towards her.

“Those are hydrangeas,” she smiled, “You shopping for anyone?”

“I’m decorating some cakes this afternoon and need some inspiration.” But, now he thought about it, some flowers might be nice for Helen and Ruby as a thanks for last night, and a live model was always better for drawing with - icing was probably the same. “Actually, could I make a bouquet?”

“Yeah, if you want to pick some out, bring them in and I’ll wrap them and arrange them for you. Take your time. I’m still setting up.”

Thank goodness for Apple Pay. James returned from his run with a gorgeous pink, white, blue and purple bunch of flowers. And a red rose for Ruby, just because.

He’d been out longer than he’d realised. He saw Helen clearing some space in a cupboard - “good morning, süßer, nice run?”, she smiled at him.

“Great. Thanks for your help last night.”

“Of course, süßer." held up the list of his and Lydia's favourite childhood foods they'd made last night, some of the baked goods had green stars next to them, “I was going to go food shopping this afternoon. I noticed I used to make quite a few of these at the bakery before we slimmed down. I’m happy to buy you some supermarket stuff, but I still have the original recipes if you’d like to try some at-home baking?”

James felt his eyes widen. “You made the brookies? And the apricot-honey things?” He couldn’t believe it, after his mum had stopped bringing them home from her commute, he’d never been able to find those again, and the Beaufort cooks had never got it just right. 

“I’d love that.” He said sincerely. Speaking of at-home baking…

He pulled the bouquet out from behind his back, “I passed the florist. The brief was pink, blue, white, and purple flowers, right?” he suddenly felt embarrassed; he’d never given a woman flowers before, even if she was Ruby’s mum.

“Oh they’re perfect! That’s very thoughtful of you.” Helen exclaimed and sniffed them. She didn’t mention the rose. “I think you and Angus are leaving for cricket at half-nine, but you’ll be back by one so we can do them after lunch?”

James nodded, “Would it be okay if we listened to some of the prescribed podcasts while we ice? Just as background..” he trailed off. ‘Idiot’, he thought, ‘this was supposed to be fun and here you are wanting to listen to-’

“-That’s a good idea.” Helen cut off his thoughts, “I hope you don’t mind but I called Anita again while you were out. I just wanted some more on how I could help with the preparation and school and stuff like that. She said that creative stuff like this is perfect for prep, listening without distraction might be pretty depressing.” Anita had also recommended positive enforcement of good behaviour, so she continued, “Well done for asking. I know it’s hard to ask for what you need.”

James felt his cheeks heat, “I’ll go and shower”, and beat a hasty retreat. He still had the rose for Ruby. He should be able to catch her before she left for her shift.

Percy and the Range Rover arrived right on time. Percy handed James his Maxton Hall cricket whites, “Good morning, sir. Your cricket bag is in the boot.”

“Thanks Percy,” James ran back inside to change while Percy loaded Angus and the chair into the car. James had just jumped in the shower when Harriet reminded him that he didn’t have any other sports wear besides his (now-stinky and sweaty) running kit. A quick call to Percy had remedied that.

James got into the car.

“I saw Ruby looking very happy this morning, that got anything to do with you?” Angus smirked as he handed James a tupperware of sandwiches. Neither he nor Helen had seen James eat that morning so Helen made something just in case…

“Oh thank you”, James took the food. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was. “I popped by the florist this morning on a run. They had some roses, and, well, turns out Ruby likes roses.” He shrugged, he’d picked it up on a whim, really. No real thought behind it.

He looked out the window and ate the sandwiches, trying to avoid more questioning. ‘It wasn’t that big of a deal’, he thought. ‘It’s just a flower.’

“It’s cute though,” Harriet teased him aloud from her seat. She loved Range Rover heated seats - they were so much better than the Merc’s.

“You’re such a girl.” James teased her back. It was an inside joke between them.

He missed Percy and Angus stifling their laughter in the front seats.

…

A few Adidas-track-suited local boys decided that James was an easy target in his pristine Maxton Hall whites and expensive kit, “Hey posh boy! Wrong club innit?”, “The fuck you doin’ere?” Their jibes echoed around the sports hall.

“He’s with me, lads.” Angus interjected firmly. “He plays the same cricket we do. Josh, Wills, pad up. We’re working on guards today.”

Jams was impressed by how quickly they fell in line under Angus, and the session continued calmly with only the occasional jibe. He’d rarely experienced this sort of bullying - what with his expensive private school education and closely engineered circle of friends - but  he ignored it easily thanks to his father’s training in Beaufort Nonchalance.

Cricket was one of the very few things he and Mortimer had bonded over. Mortimer had had some nets permanently constructed at the mansion so they could practise year round: the result was that James was seriously good at cricket.

When it was time to go into the nets, James warmed himself up slowly; starting with some basic and slow ones, then gradually getting faster, spinning more. He was fast outstripping Josh and Wills as batsmen, watching them get frustrated as they missed and had to right the stumps every time (they’d given up on bails). 

James let rip: alternating fast bowling with different spins, watching as their frustration boiled over.

Angus called it after Josh swore and flinched away from a particularly fast one, “Alright,” He flashed a torch he kept in his pocket until he had everyone’s attention. “Let’s switch batters. James and Callum, pad up!” He made a batting motion with his hands. 

James and a ginger lad jogged over to the kit pile where Harriet was lounging about with the other daemons. It took James a moment to recognise her in the form of an Italian Greyhound. He narrowed his eyes at her and she privately replied, “If I’m fetching cricket balls, I’m doing it comfortably.”

James shrugged, ‘good paparazzi cover’ he guessed, and turned to the ginger boy.

Angus saw them shake hands. Callum was seventeen, basically deaf, and didn’t have many close friends at the club on account of going to a special school. He also knew that Callum liked spending time with people without necessarily talking to them - on account of the extra effort it took to make out conversation with hearing aids - perfect for James.

He overheard Josh and William muttering as they left the nets, “crazy fucker”, “what the fuck is a player like that doin ‘ere?” Angus let them go, he figured they’d learned their lesson.

To absolutely no-one's surprise, James’ batting was also excellent. One of the boys’ dads who stuck around to help sidled up to Angus, “With a player like that, we might just win the league. Where'd you find him?”

Angus didn’t take his eyes off the nets, “He’s one of Ruby’s schoolmates, he’s staying with us for a while.”

“Maxton Hall,” the father read the crest of James’ bag, “that the posh one up the road?”

Angus saw the ‘how do you afford that?’ question coming and shut it down quickly. “Yeah, Ruby’s on scholarship. I dunno if we’ll be able to keep him, but the other lads are copying him, so however long we do get him, we’ll see some permanent improvement.”

It was true: Josh and Will aside, the other boys had watched James’ bowls intently, and they’d all been chatting with him in the queue. It seemed that James fitted into this little club quite nicely.  

[fluffallamaful]

I am ALWAYS here for tummy tickles. Elaborate?

ok ok ok ok ok thank you thank you thank you!! so there’s multiple scenerios that come to mind, but here’s one from Soups Demolition AU

went a bit ham :D (below)

🦙🦙🦙…

concept (Demolition AU):

i’m imaging squeaky floor boards and flickering shadows as a few of the guards enter dream’s wooden shack one night. dream is asleep on the couch, a woollen blanket covering most of his body, with one of his legs out and resting up on the arm rest. one of his arms is draped over his body, the other is over his face. his body is dimly lit by the warm glow of a burning candle.

the guards have entered to check on him, as well as deliver him his dinner. they haven’t seen any movements in the shack all day, and they almost feel bad about interrupting such a soft atmosphere. it’s the most relaxed they’ve seen dream in weeks.

immediately, one of them points out that he hasn’t eaten his dinner or breakfast from last night or this morning. it’s still sitting on the kitchen table from when it was delivered. they have no choice but to wake him.

he stirs a little when one of them brushes through his hair, eyes fluttering open and arm slipping down from his face. he flinches when he sees them all staring down at him, and then groans when they tell him that they’re just checking in on him. can’t they just leave him alone??

they gently pry away his blanket and remind him of his food. he seems disinterested. he tells them he’s not hungry. his stomach rumbles. they tell him that part of him disagrees. he flinches when they poke at his tummy

they try convince him to sit up and at least have some of the meal that they had brought for him today. it’s a steak and carrot stew. it smells delicious. he stubbornly declines and tries to pull back his blanket, hiding himself under his pillow when he fails. his stomach rumbles again.

one of the guards wiggles a finger over his tummy and playfully tells him that he should listen to his belly. dream’s skin twitches and jumps but it doesn’t get a reaction more than that, not until the guard adds in a couple more wiggly fingers.

theres a gasp beneath the pillow, followed by silence as dream’s stomach sucks in to hold his breath. his skin flutters and twitches as the guard slowly scratches at the skin. there’s a few soft coos from the others watching. a swipe to the belly button results in another gasp, and then a few wiggles on his lower stomach breaks dream enough for tiny muffled giggles to escape from under the pillow

the guards ask if dream’s tummy might be trying to tell him something else. they start squeezing at the sensitive skin. dream hugs his pillow tight to his face and squirms. his foot thumps against the armrest. they point out that dream really should listen to his tummy more, it clearly wants attention. one of them tries to pull the pillow away and dream’s knuckles go white with how much he fights it. he can feel how warm the pillow is from his cheeks.

they start playfully sympathising with his tummy, referring to it as though it has the ability to listen (hehe). they pout and ask if dream has been ignoring it. they pull up his shirt and place kisses into the skin to make up for his neglect. they point out how red it is, how it really wants dream to listen to it. dream squirms and kicks but never brings his hands away from his pillow to stop it. they ask it if it’s hungry. they ask if it wants some raspberries. they take dream’s hiccups of anticipation as a yes,, as excitement. they raspberry all over his tummy and then claim that they’re feeling a bit hungry too. they give him nibbles.

at one point dream does actually bring a hand down from his pillow. he pushes weakly at the guards’ hands and they immediately take the hint. they pull down his shirt and rub at his tummy. he allows them to take away his pillow and they all coo gently at how flushed he is. they suggest that they all eat dinner together tonight and he shyly nods in agreement. dream’s tummy is the happiest it’s been in weeks :)

🦙🦙🦙…

[theofficersacademy]

Birdsong once more rings in the new season alongside the Great Tree Moon and, for those attending Garreg Mach, the start of a new school year! Flowers bloom across the countryside;  everywhere, people bend their heads in prayer, asking for the Goddess’ blessing so that they may reach even newer heights in the coming year. Spring has arrived, its warm embrace gifting hope and anticipation in place of the last year’s trials and tribulations.

You've overcome many a trial, but you still have much to learn.

The monastery halls are bustling with fervor as both new blood and the old guard prepare for the challenges to come.

Mission: Prepare for the Academic Year!

Welcome back, everyone. The mission board for the next two months will be a special Anniversary mission board open to everyone regardless of affiliation, with tasks created by you! What’s more, each task will grant a skill point. 4 more tasks will be added in October, so stay tuned!

Mission Task Board

Come one, come all! A visiting merchant has brought with him an unusual challenge for those fancying themselves some of Garreg Mach's strongest: a large boulder with the "Sword of Selection" protruding from its surface. Successfully draw the sword from the stone and prove yourself worthy of its might, he proclaims, though it soon becomes clear that this is easier said than done as many a would-be-hero tries and fails to pull the blade free. Some accuse it of being rigged, while others swear they'll definitely succeed if given another chance. Bragging rights and a free sword sound pretty tempting despite this—will you give it a try? [Grants Sword +1]

The celebrations of the Adrestian Empire Founding Day are underway, complete with fairs, games, and a new point of the program - a spear-throwing competition. Face off against both your fellow students, and the finest soldiers that the land of the Black Eagle has to offer. You may not only earn a fancy reward, but also be noticed by nobles who are on the lookout for new retainers. [Grants Lance +1]

It was just a stupid game. That was all this was supposed to be. A cheesy school superstition, meant to spook new students as some twisted rite of passage. You only needed to sneak into a secret crypt beneath the Monastery and spend the night to secure the bragging rights – the hardest part should have been getting past the guards! But no… The real problem, you now realize, is the monster of this so-called “myth” -- what it called a 'golem', beckoned from the inky depths of the crypt by the sound of your footsteps. It wears the helm of a man, but the rest of its gigantic body is anything but human. With snake-like arms that can twist in any direction, thickly woven sinews of steel cable barely hidden behind a massive, lion-faced chestplate, and a lance that can carve very REAL craters out of stone with a flick – logic says this thing shouldn’t be moving. But it is, and its hollow ‘gaze’ is now squarely on you. When magic bounces off of it like rain, and even the sturdiest sword barely leaves a scratch, your only remaining hopes of survival are to pray you find the exit in this darkness, or pry open its vulnerable innards. [Grants Axe +1]

A troublemaker has emerged amidst Garreg Mach, declaring themselves the Angel of Love! They are the master of the hit and run, shooting comically cutesy arrows at unsuspecting people, trying to orchestrate budding romances with their masterful aim! Some say their love shots are the real deal, while others complain that they're a menace to public safety. Whatever your opinion, their infamy grows evermore now that they've opened up requests! Write in the person you want shot and the person you want them to fall in love with, and if you get a calling card from Angel, then your request is accepted. Just how long will this go on? [Grants Bow +1]

They say if you go to the sauna completely alone at night, and get the room full of steam, you'll see your doppelgänger in the mist. If you don't defeat your doppelganger, or escape before it can catch you, your doppelganger will take your place! Or… Maybe it's just someone else using the sauna… [Grants Gauntlet +1]

Rumors have started to float around Garreg Mach's halls about a ghastly young woman haunting the monastery. Many claim to have seen a young woman in wedding white with a haunting expression on her face, though it seems nobody can agree on exactly where she was seen. The only natural choice to be made here is to go and investigate these sightings and figure out whether the woman is real or merely a figment of the student body's imagination. [Grants Reason +1]

The greenhouse has been absolutely frantic these past few days. Students who aren't preoccupied with running back and forth, juggling fertiliser and various implements in their arms, are saying an incredibly rare plant, the Lady-of-Mourning, is blooming. It's a sorrowful plant, named for a famous folk tale featuring a pair of ill-fated lovers. Once upon a time, there were two lovers from very different classes. One, hailing from a noble family, with a notable crest, the other, a woman from the local village. Despite their differences, they were able to snatch shared moments together when they could. That was, until the noblewoman was engaged to a politically advantageous match, crushing all hope of their union forever. In her fury, she began destroying everything in her path with a strength fuelled by grief and separation. She became a monster. One her lover had to kill after she almost destroyed her home village. In the battle, they annihilated each other. Falling together in a fatal embrace, they were united by death. Depressing stuff. Normally, when the flower blooms (once every two hundred years) it ensures their story is remembered. That lovers won't be separated ever again. But this year, the flower seems to be wilting before it can blossom. Will you be able to save the plant and ensure true love can flourish forevermore? [Grants Faith +1]

Court is now in session! Inspiration has struck Garreg Mach from an unusual quarter: a series of novels featuring the exploits of a Knight, Shane les Parodee, trying his best to reform a corrupt justice system through trial and investigation. The more curious minds of the Monastery are ablaze with the chance to host their own 'mock' trials! Whilst a fad likely to sputter out under the pressure of the Church, for now students are gathering together bands of defendants, prosecutors and defence to try their own hand at this enticing new system for all manner of grievances, either real or created for the trial itself! Which role will you take, (or be roped into?) and, is there something to this system of trial? [Grants Authority +1]

The winter had students and faculty alike feeling restless, and now that spring is in the air the church has organized a few activities for everyone to join in on. One of these activities is an obstacle course… with a twist, of course. Attendees will be assigned a partner and told to tie one of each of their legs together, as well as one of each of their arms — creating a three legged and three armed unit. The task is to go through the entire course without untying yourselves: if you can do this, you may very well win a prize! Will you join in the fun? Or perhaps you will judge and make sure no one is cheating? [Grants Heavy Armor +1]

Horses, pegasi, wyverns, kinshi, and now riding wolves and griffons - the monastery’s menagerie keeps on growing, and the stables can barely contain all of them anymore! The Church calls students, Professors and Knights alike to help ensure that all of these animals have proper care. It’s also important to them that everyone knows how to take care of and handle all of these different species, in the name of versatility, broader horizons, and preserving harmony. Perhaps you will take this chance to bond with a new mount you’d never even considered before? [Grants Riding +1]

After the winter's tragedy, the arrival of baby wyverns in the stables is welcomed not just with the usual excitement, but with outright tears of joy. With the traumatic memories still fresh in everyone's mind, everyone is being extra careful with the babies, and intends to ensure they have the best care possible. Will you volunteer your knowledge and services? Or perhaps do you wish to learn from the best? [Grants Flying +1]

One day, you find yourself waking up thoroughly sore, scraping yourself off the floor of a Monastery classroom. As you strain to remember how you wound up there, you catch sight of your hand – except it’s not yours. Nor are the clothes you now wear, or the body beneath them. Your actual self is standing opposite you, staring back in shock and… covered in dust? Before things spiral further, the professor attempts to quell the growing chorus of unrest with an explanation, which also serves to jog your memory. This was supposed to be a seminar showcasing the magical properties of a magic tool from Tellius known as Warp Powder. Unfortunately, its volatile nature lends itself to many potential side-effects if mishandled… one of which is ripping people’s souls out and depositing them into the nearest acceptable vessel. The unbothered professor assures everyone that this "minor inconvenience" will wear off on its own eventually, and that the Monastery will still be expecting the completion of your usual assignments and duties in the meantime. [Grants Any Weapon +1]

New! A popular castletown tavern adds trendy fruit-based drinks to its menu in order to appeal to the denizens of Garreg Mach. The ploy is successful and the place has become absolutely packed, but there’s one problem. Word travels far. Too far. Seemingly anticipating a wealthy onslaught of students and faculty, a watchful thief has spiked your drink with a sleeping potion and slunk away with your possessions. Wake up, find the criminal, and recover your pilfered belongings…by force if necessary. [Grants Authority +1]  

New! Some of the stablehands have noticed the pegasi are growing restless, wings pinned and confined to their stables due to heavy snow. But, today is one of the first days that they can finally fly! As a result, they are eager - perhaps too eager - to get out there and take to the skies. The Monastery requires all hands on deck to ensure that these antsy group burn off as much energy as possible in the window of flight they have avaliable, and have taken to asking students and faculty to assist - will you take the reins? [Grants Flying +1]  

New! A stray wyvern has been spotted in the vicinity of Remire Village, its aggression making it dangerous for the inhabitants to go outside, let children play, or ensure the safety of their animals. According to the reports, the poor animal appears to be missing part of its leg and carrying a grave, festering wound in its place, which likely explains its fury. Regardless of whether you decide to simply put it out of its misery, or capture it and see if anything can be done to heal it, it would seem that you have no choice but to shoot it down. [Grants Bow +1]  

New! Rumors of an underground opera company spreads all the way from Enbarr to Garreg Mach’s own halls, describing an air like no other show. Two actors take the stage, costumed and outfitted with an assigned weapon by the opera manager, dueling to undo the star-studded button clasping one another’s capes to their attire all while singing and dealing with an elaborate and dynamic stage. The mysteries surrounding this opera company are numerous: their means of production, their motives for hosting these given the lack of an audience, and the strange reports that the actors on-stage always seem to lose control of their emotions somehow… Could strange magic be afoot? You gain your opportunity to investigate when a letter of invitation is sent to you, asking you to take to the stage yourself as one of those very actors with the promise that winning the duel might very well grant you a prize you could not even begin to fathom… [Grants Any Skill +1]

Frequently Asked Questions

These aren’t the only threads I can do, right?

Of course not! These are just prompts to help give some ideas of possibilities. You’re always free and encouraged to make up your own threads.

How do I claim the skill points?

In order to qualify for the skill point, the thread must clearly allude to the listed task and preferably feature the task being completed. However, you can still claim the skill point if your characters narratively fail. You do not need to message the masterlist to claim your skill point.

Can I only do one task?

Nope, you can do as many as you’d like with as many different partners as you’d like! You can do the same task with more than one person! However, you can only claim any skill points once. Remember to use (and track!) the #toa open tag for any open threads, and you can also post a link to your open thread on the appropriate Discord channel! If you have any other questions or concerns, shoot us a message through the masterlist or on Discord!

[hikerwitch]

Wrote this flash fiction for an NYC Midnight and wanted to share. I was assigned the thriller genre, so here we go. [CW: violence, SA]

Ruby’s Pest Control

The night before it happened, I dreamt of cockroaches.

Silent threats inside the home. Unseen until they startle you from across the room. Skittering off in the light.

It had been a month since I had seen the man nailing the flashy flier to the coffee shop bulletin board. An ad printed and distributed for the “Safest Apartments in Town!”

They promised private security guards, available at the complex 24/7.

Watching over you.

Skittering about.

It was exactly what I had been looking for.

It was peaceful, at first. But I made the mistake that people often do with pests. I left too much out in the open. It had been a lovely night up until. A night out with friends, a late arrival home.

I was asleep when it began. Pests emerge in darkness.

It was not clear when I awoke what was happening. Not at first. A weight pressing against me, a cold sharpness on my throat. A tugging at my underwear.

“Ruby,” he moaned. “Ruby.”

I grabbed at the knife. I kicked. I struggled.

Blood pouring.

Slippery.

A hot shower of red life spilling across my face, my neck. My hands, gripping nothing but the warmth that they would miss when it was gone. All gone.

His hands, gripping my hair.

Dragging.

Pulling. To the floor.

Slick tile, cool against my bare legs.

“You stay in here and you do not move.”

A washcloth against my neck. Feet against the wall, back against the bathroom door.

Vermin, skittering around my apartment.

Pants zipping.

The lights are off. Skittering, skittering.

Silence.

My palms cannot grip the handle. They cannot grip. A laugh, bubbling up from somewhere beyond me. Is this how I die?

The door opens.

My phone is there, on the bedside table. Quick retreat. Dial tone rings once.

“I’m bleeding. I’m bleeding to death.”

“Stay on the line, ma’am.”

A knock at the bathroom door.

“Security, Ruby! We heard there was a disturbance. Let me in.”

“Do not let him in.”

“It’s security-”

“We haven’t notified security. Do not let him in.”

“You need to let me in! I can help you.”

“The police are three minutes away. Do not let him in.”

A kick at the door. “I am not a threat! You need to let me in!”

Breathe held.

Sirens.

The knocking stops.

Police search my home.

Mens underwear. A hat that is not mine. A keyring, heavy with opportunity.

They search the apartment’s security guard - scratch marks on his scavenging mandible.

A conclusion made.

I have lived contaminated ever since. It has been twenty years.

They’ve let him out of his containment. Skittering, skittering. Out into the community, out where I can see him.

In my dream, the roaches had been running. I had been killing them.

The sterile coolness of a pistol purchased is a welcome control.

I turn on the light.

He will see.

I cannot tolerate a pest.

[eggybubblegum]

The story of Officer John Doe, 1987-20XX

22:53, October 30th 20XX, Right outside the Raven City Forest. 

Officer Doe sat in his patrol car, right outside his work site for the night. A large forest in the middle of nowhere. Forests were an unusual sight after The Flood, so he had been assigned to guard it. He was past his prime, sure, but he could definitely shoot someone if need be. John's radio crackles to life as he gets a call from the station. "Officer Doe, your job is very important tonight are you aware of that?" John takes a minute to respond. "Yes sir, don't let anyone in, I've heard you yell at everyone in the station about it." Johns radio turned off after this. John shrugged it off as his boss being mad as he usually was. 

23:57, October 30th 20XX, Right outside the Raven City Forest. 

Nearly an hour had passed since his shift began. Nothing had happened yet, no ones been near the forest. Yet Officer John felt unease. He had looked into the forest a couple times and had thought he saw some movement but chalked it up to his eyes playing with him. Then, suddenly, he heard something. He wasn't sure what it was, but as the person assigned to the area he had to go check it out. John got out of the patrol car and proceeded to go into the woods. 

24:00, October 31st 20XX, Inside the Raven City Forest. 

Upon going into the forest John could more clearly make out what the sound was, it was scratching. Perhaps against wood. He yelled into the wood, "Anyone in there?". A minute passed and no response, but there was definitely something here. John signed and said "Alright pal, I'm gonna have to drag you out of there by force if you don't come out now." Still no response. Unfortunately, John had to go deeper into the forest.

24:23, October 31st 20XX, Deep inside the Raven City Forest. 

Occasionally he called out, trying to convince someone to come out. John held his gun tight as he constantly looked around, looking for a sight of anyone. Eventually he saw something, a large, tall, and inhuman shape in the woods. He pointed his gun at it nonetheless. "Don't move or I'll shoot!". The thing stood there, not phased by the officers threat. However it did turn to look at him, giving him more of a clear look. It had large claws, and concerningly large teeth. He could swear he saw something dripping off of the claws but he couldn't make out what it was. Eventually, the officer shot. The creature screeched as he did. A deafening, horrifying screech. John wasn't sure if it was by instinct or by fear, but he ran. 

24:32, October 31st 20XX, Deep inside the Raven City Forest. 

He wasn't sure where he was running, but he was running. John didn't stop, because he knew the creature was after him. Eventually, he found a building. It had a gate outside, and it was a large stone building with no glass windows, just holes in the wall. A few were boarded up. John ran inside, quickly. He was sure the creature couldn't get him here. As he went inside he heard the creature outside, scratching at the wall. 

24:58, October 31st 20XX, Deep inside the Raven City Forest. 

The last 10 minutes it had been scratching on the wall, it hadn't stopped and it isn't going away. Officer John had been trying to get his radio to work with no avail. The scratching was starting to make him go insane. It had to stop. It had to stop. It had to stop. It had to stop. It had to s 

24:67, October 31st 20XX, Somewhere. 

Officer John had drawn a picture of the silhouette of the creature. Multiple. Too many to count. On the walls, on the floor, on himself, written with something, he wasn't sure anymore. The scratching still hadn't stopped. It was like it was in his own head.

Officer John Doe's body has not been recovered, and there have been no other reports of this creature. The only evidence John Doe ever existed was his radio, which recorded all of his final movements, and the drawings using his blood on the walls.

[jaeyunverse]

skater boy

pairing: sim jake x fem!reader

genres: fluff, angst, crack, strangers to lovers, high school au

warnings: profanity, mentions of injuries, trauma and death, heavy angst towards the end, all my knowledge about skateboarding has come from google so this is not going to be very accurate LOL lmk if you think i missed anything!

wc: 9372

summary: jake hadn’t expected to see anyone at the skatepark in the middle of the night. he sure as hell hadn’t expected to fall in love the moment your gazes met either.

playlist: click here!

note: omg i wrote this on such a whim LMAOO i hope y’all enjoy it though!! i had a lot of fun w this fic and i’d love to hear your thoughts :”)

masterlist

Save for himself, Jake Sim was not used to seeing anyone use the skatepark at four in the morning. 

It was like an unspoken rule: early evenings were reserved for kids and middle-schoolers, late evenings for teenagers, nights for smokers and stoners, and the time right before the crack of dawn for him. 

Jake didn’t like skating in front of people. He liked it when he had the entire place to himself. He liked it when amateurs didn’t ask to be taught by him. He liked it when he wasn’t requested to perform stunts on his skateboard. 

He liked it when he was left alone. 

Which was why the sight of you trying to balance yourself on your board in his safe space ticked him off.

Jake knew he wasn’t being fair. The skatepark was public property, and anyone who wanted to use it could do so without being answerable to him. He couldn’t just tell you to leave. It wasn’t your problem he wanted to skate in solitude. 

Jake contemplated skipping for one night and going back home. Surely, you wouldn’t be here tomorrow as well. Based on how you handled yourself, it looked like you had never skated before. 

Heck, you couldn’t even get on without having to clutch on to the safety railings. This was probably just a one-time thing, and Jake hoped you’d realise skating was not for you, give up and never return again. At least not when he came to the park. 

Right as he was about to leave, your gaze met his and you lost control of the skateboard. It slipped from under your feet, and you landed on your backside with a sharp hiss. 

Excruciating pain shot up your ankle as you tried to pull yourself up again, tears springing from the corners of your eyes. 

Jake watched you struggle warily. A voice at the back of his mind urged him to help you out, but he silenced it. He wasn’t an asshole on a regular basis, but he was still pissed you were occupying the skate park. 

“Fuck,” you breathed, biting down on your lip to stop a whimper from escaping. You limped to where your skateboard had rolled and picked it up. Approaching Jake, you said to him with your gaze trained on the ground, “You can skate if you want. I was going to leave anyway.” 

He raised an eyebrow, not having expected you to leave immediately. Maybe his expression had been colder than he had thought it was. Or maybe you were just unwilling to skate while he was present—you did embarrass yourself in front of him after all. 

You made to move past Jake when he caught sight of your scratched arms. His eyes moved to your ankle immediately, assessing it. 

“Hey,” he called, causing you to stop in your tracks. “How are you going home?” 

You hesitated. Gulped. Looked around. Then answered, “My brother’s going to pick me up.” 

Jake didn’t need to be a genius to know you had lied. But he understood. It was the dead of the night, and no one was around except a strange boy who was asking you weird questions. Obviously, you were on your guard. 

“Your ankle’s sprained. I can tell from the way you’re limping.” He had no idea why he was still speaking to you instead of just saying okay and moving on. Maybe it was the guilt blossoming in him for being the reason behind your pain that made him offer, “There’s a 24/7 open supermarket around the corner. You should ice the injury before it swells. I can help if you want.” 

“Oh.” 

A beat of silence passed. Then two. Jake opened his mouth. “Or not,” he said and chuckled awkwardly. This was exactly why he never bothered to engage with people. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”

“I think I’d appreciate your assistance,” you interrupted and gave him a tight-lipped yet grateful smile. 

Jake blinked. He hadn’t expected you to take him up on his offer. 

“Sure,” he said. “My car’s parked right here. We can walk too, if you’d prefer that,” he added upon watching your expression turn cautious. 

“I’d rather walk,” you admitted. “It doesn’t hurt a lot and the distance is not much so I think I can manage.” 

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Jake agreed without missing a beat. “Yeah. I’ll just—just hold on to your skateboard for you.”

God, this was so awkward. Jake was starting to regret ever offering to help you out. You clearly didn’t trust him, and he didn’t know how to convince you he had no ill intentions. 

“I’m Jake, by the way,” he said in an attempt to make conversation. “Are you from around here?”

You nodded, hissing a little as you walked beside him. “Yeah. I’m Y/N. I go to Grapevine High.”

“Grapevine?” Jake laughed, fisting his free hand at his side to keep it from snaking around your waist for support. He didn’t want to touch you without your consent—even though it was just to help. “That’s crazy. I go to Blue Valley High.” 

You gasped. “No way! You guys are such cheaters! The Championship Cup is rightfully ours.” 

“Sore losers call winners cheaters,” he teased. 

“You should be lucky I have a sprained ankle, or you’d be eating the ground right now.”

“You should be lucky Choi Yeonjun is graduating, or your school would be making a complete fool out of itself next year too.” 

You snorted. “Everyone knows your team paid the—Fuck!” 

Jake grabbed your arm the moment you lost your balance and pulled you towards him. You clutched his hoodie for support, involuntarily tugging him towards you as well. Jake almost tripped over his feet too but held his ground. 

“Do you need my help walking the rest of the way?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. 

Biting your lip in contemplation, you tried putting weight on your sprained ankle. You could feel the pain in your bones, so you glanced at Jake, your faces but a few inches away, and mumbled, “I’m sorry for being a bother.” 

Jake shook his head and wrapped an arm around your waist so he could assist you better. “Don’t apologise. I wouldn’t have offered to help if I thought of you as a bother.” 

The smile you gave him was a mixture of both grateful and relieved, and Jake couldn’t help the slight increase in the pace of his heart. Answering your unspoken gratitude with a reassuring upward curl of his lips, he waited for you to move your arm and sling it around his neck. 

“Do you always come to skate at the park?” Jake asked as the two of you slowly continued to the supermarket. “I’ve never seen you before.” 

You shook your head. “No. It’s a new hobby I’m trying to pick up.” 

“I can teach you if you want.” The words were out of Jake’s mouth before he could think of a reply. He paused for a second, waiting for the regret to settle in. Surprisingly, it didn’t, so he continued, “I’ve been skating since I was five.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Really? That’s so cool! You must be really good.” 

“I guess.” Jake laughed sheepishly and ducked his head, trying to hide the blush that was creeping on his cheeks. God, what was wrong with him? Not only had he offered to teach you how to skate (something he would have never done if it were someone else) but was also feeling shy at the hint of awe in your tone. 

“I—I don’t know,” you answered hesitantly. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.” 

“You won’t.” 

“Are you sure? You looked pretty annoyed when you saw me at the skatepark.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “No! I wasn’t annoyed,” he lied. “I was just surprised.”

You stared at him for a moment before smiling knowingly. “Whatever you say, skater boy.”  

He opened his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it. “Oh, thank God, we’re here.” 

Indeed, when Jake averted his gaze from you, he saw the supermarket in all its glory. It looked empty, save for the half-asleep cashier slumped in his seat at the billing counter.

You let go of Jake and limped on one leg through the automatic doors. Slamming your hand on the counter, you yelled, “Get up and do your fucking job, Sunoo!” 

Jake watched in slight confusion and shock as the cashier jumped in his seat, almost falling off. “What the hell, Y/N?! Do you want to give me a heart attack?” he demanded in a shrill voice, his hand on his chest. 

“Oh, shut up, I did you a favour. You know there are cameras in here, right?” you pointed out. 

“You know the owner is an old lady who doesn’t even know the T of technology, right?” Sunoo replied snarkily, and then asked as realization dawned on him, “Why the fuck are you out so late?”

Jake saw you tense. “I wanted to go for a walk.” 

Sunoo frowned. “Alone? Does your mom know?” 

“I’m not alone. I’m with my new friend.” 

Sunoo followed your gaze and finally noticed Jake awkwardly standing at the door. Scoffing, he asked, “Sim Jake’s your new friend?” 

You narrowed your eyes and scrutinised both boys. “You two know each other?” 

“I don’t know him,” Jake replied, looking just as lost as you were. “Do you know me?”

“I know of you,” Sunoo corrected. “You’re pretty popular. Y/N, on the other hand, is not. Hence my disbelief.”

“Hey, asshole!” you exclaimed and glared at Sunoo. “I just don’t talk to a lot of people!” 

“Neither does Jake,” Sunoo pointed out. “But he’s known as the hot, mysterious skateboarder who keeps to himself while you’re known as the friendless girl. Or not known as,” he amended. “Because you’re not, you know, popular.” 

“You half-witted son of a cunt—” 

Jake stepped between the two of you before things could escalate. “Okay, let’s all calm down.” 

“Tell him to shut the fuck up first!” you whined. “He’s being such a jerk to me!” 

The corners of Jake’s lips quirked at the sight of your bottom lip sticking out in a pout. He promptly ignored the way his heart rate picked up. 

“What’s your problem, Sunoo?” he demanded from the cashier. 

“My problem is that Y/N woke me up!” Sunoo burst out. “I was having an amazing dream and now I can’t remember any of it!” 

“Deserved,” you commented under your breath before saying out loud, “Whatever. Sleep during your shift or don’t; I don’t care.” 

“Good!” Sunoo snapped. 

Sticking your tongue out at him, you grabbed Jake’s arm and tugged him deeper into the store. “Let’s go.” 

Snaking his arm around your waist again, he let you direct him towards the refrigerators at the rear end of the supermarket. “Who is he?” 

“My neighbour.” You rolled your eyes. “We’ve known each other since we were toddlers and he’s been a huge pain in my ass the entire time. I want to punch him every time he opens his fucking mouth.” 

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Hatred isn’t a very sexy look on you, Y/N.” 

“As long as it’s a little sexy.” You wiggled your eyebrows. “I trashed his car because he spread rumours about me at school. He’s working night shifts to pay for the repairs but all I had to do was throw the best rager of the year to nullify what he had done.”

“Wow.” Jake laughed. “I would not want to get on your bad side.” 

You grinned cheekily. “I don’t think you can.” 

Once the two of you had reached the refrigerators, Jake helped you sit down on the floor and fetched an ice pack. 

You carefully removed your sneakers and socks and rolled your ripped baggy jeans up a few times. There was some swelling on the outer side of your ankle, but the injury thankfully didn’t seem to be severe. 

“Oh, good, there’s no bruising,” Jake also noticed. Sitting cross-legged in front of you, he gently stretched your leg and placed it on his lap. “You’ll heal in no time.” 

“Do you hurt yourself a lot while skating?” you asked as he pressed the ice pack to your wound. You had a low pain tolerance and distracting yourself by talking always proved effective. 

Jake shrugged. “Kind of. This month I tried to skate down the railing that divides the staircase in the children’s park and fell off. Fucked up my entire body and couldn’t move for a few days.”

Mentally cringing at the image forming in your mind, you questioned, “Why do you perform risky stunts if they’re so dangerous?” 

“It’s fun,” he answered and moved your ankle in all directions slowly. “Skating makes me feel alive. It’s something I’ve been doing since I was a kid, and I can’t imagine quitting just because of a few injuries here and there.” 

“Don’t people break bones and tear ligaments because of failed skateboarding stunts?”

Jake grinned. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t fail a lot. Besides, I usually wear full-sleeved clothes to avoid scraping myself. There’s a physical risk factor no matter what sport you pursue.”

You pondered over his words for a moment. “What made you start skateboarding?”

“This is starting to feel a lot like an interrogation.” He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his face. Your face heated in embarrassment, and you were about to apologise for asking so many questions when he continued, “I used to always see the skatepark while coming home from day care. My parents must have noticed me pressing my face against the car window each time we drove past because I was given a board on my fifth birthday. I’ve been skating ever since.”

“Woah. Isn’t that almost twelve years?” 

“A little over, actually. I turn eighteen this year.” 

Your lips parted in wonder. You’d met very few people who talked about skateboarding the way Jake did. His eyes were shining with barely contained excitement and his lips adorned a wide smile that sent your heart fluttering. 

You’d been uncertain before, but now you knew for sure you wanted to get to know this boy who had such love and passion for skating. 

“Does your offer to teach me how to skateboard still stand?” 

Jake beamed. “Always.” 

Jake hadn’t seen you for two weeks. While it hadn’t been that long, he strangely found himself missing you. 

It was as if something had clicked between the two of you when you’d been sitting on the supermarket floor. No one had ever bothered to ask Jake how he started skating, and he’d never seen anyone be genuinely so interested in his hobby. 

Jake never initiated conversations or even made a conscious effort to keep them going. Yet, the two of you had talked till the sun came up and only left when Sunoo kicked you out. 

He’d driven you home after and you’d exchanged phone numbers. He even made you promise him to see a doctor as he helped you up the porch stairs.

“I’ll message you when my ankle heals,” you had told him. “We can decide when to meet up then.” 

Jake had agreed, but as the days passed, he found himself itching to send you a check-up text. He’d never been one to overthink, so a few days later, you saw your phone screen lighting up with his name. 

For the next few weeks, the two of you texted constantly. From discussing which pasta sauce was superior to what your dreams were—you never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Jake couldn’t stop sparks of hope from igniting in him whenever he received a notification alert. 

He’d never felt this way for anyone. While it was scary for him to realise you were starting to become the reason he smiled so often now, he embraced the wave of affection that washed over him each time he thought of you. 

Texting every day turned to calling every day and calling every day turned to FaceTiming every day. Jake had become so comfortable around you that he wasn’t shy anymore to answer your video calls even though he was half-asleep and still in bed.

Unfortunately, the two of you weren’t able to meet again because of your heavy schedules. You were in a bunch of extracurriculars, and Jake had basketball practice after school. He missed you more than he would have liked to admit. 

AirPods in both ears, he was casually skating to the skatepark at 4 in the morning like usual when he caught sight of a figure leaning on the support railings. 

“No way,” Jake mumbled to himself and plucked his AirPods out of his ears. Getting off his skateboard, he hit its tail and began sprinting. 

The thud of his footsteps alerted you and you pocketed your phone. Pushing yourself off the railing, you turned around to greet him. 

Only to be thrown off your balance as he collided with you and engulfed you in a warm embrace. It took you a moment to react, but you laughed softly and wrapped your arms around him too. 

“Miss me so much, skater boy?” 

Jake pulled back and smirked at you. “Do you always call me skater boy because you don’t know my name?”

“Of course not!” You grinned. “You’re just so memorable, Jack. I couldn’t forget about you if I wanted to.” 

Amused, Jake raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re just going to go ahead and call me the whitest name to ever exist?” 

“Jack’s not too far from Jake,” you pointed out. “And you do have an accent.” 

“It’s Australian!” 

“Mhm.” 

Rolling his eyes playfully, he glanced at your leg. “How’s your ankle holding up?” 

“Completely healed,” you chirped and moved it in all directions, going as far as jumping in place to prove yourself. Jake fondly smiled at your actions, his eyes turning into smile crescent moons. “Don’t you think you should have asked me this question before you crashed into me with the force of a truck?” 

Laughing sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry. I just got excited.” 

“Nah, I missed you too.” You gave his shoulder a light-hearted punch. At your words, a seed of happiness sprouted in Jake’s chest. “Do you still want to teach me how to skate?” 

He grinned and set his board on the ground. “Get on. Without support.” 

“Wait, what?” you asked and glanced at the piece of wood nervously. “Just like that?” 

“You’re wearing the right kind of shoes so you’re already halfway there. Besides, it’s not that hard.” 

You shot him a dirty look. “Easy for you to say. I have zero balance, and this isn’t even a longboard.” 

“I’m surprised you know the terminology,” Jake commented. 

You looked a little taken aback for a moment, but you caught your bearings so fast he thought he’d imagined your expression. “I read up a little before coming.” 

“Oh.” Jake wasn’t completely satisfied with your answer, however, he let it slide without any further poking. “Well, you’re right; this isn’t a longboard. You have me to catch you if you fall off, though.” 

You stared at him for a moment. And then, “My ankle better not get fucked up again, skater boy.” 

“No promises.” 

Glaring at him playfully, you kept a foot on the skateboard tentatively. Your hand instinctively reached out to grab Jake’s sleeve, but you fisted it and forced it back to your side. 

This was turning out to be even harder than you’d expected. You were scared to put your other foot on the board in fear of it slipping under you like last time. 

However, your unwillingness to appear as a coward to Jake overpowered your anxiety. You were about to bite the bullet and just step on the board when Jake said, 

“Angle your feet sideways. Place your right foot in front of the left one.” 

Nodding without looking at him, you did as you were told. 

The skateboard moved a little as you stepped on it, a yelp leaving your mouth. Jake’s arms caged your figure from a distance, and you grabbed them immediately to stabilise yourself.

“Not that hard, was it?” 

You breathed a laugh and tried shifting the board a little from side to side using Jake’s support. “Apparently not.”  

He let go of your elbows as you got off the piece of wood. “You’re doing better than my first time on the skateboard already.” 

“Weren’t you, like, five?” 

“I’m really trying to be supportive here.” 

You snorted. “Why, thank you.” 

“My pleasure,” Jake popped and bowed dramatically. “You wanna go again?” 

The two of you must have practised and goofed around in the skatepark for hours—you could tell because of the sun rays that had begun to peek over the horizon. It didn’t feel that way at all, though. 

The concept of time never seemed to exist whenever you were with Jake both physically and virtually. No matter how long you spent with him, it never felt enough. 

Skating was a sort of therapy for Jake. He couldn’t go a day without cruising on the streets or performing stunts in the park when there was no one to watch. For you, though, he was ready to give it up. 

Being one of the reasons you smiled was of much more value to him. He loved the way your eyes sparkled as if they held the entire galaxy in them. He loved hearing you ramble about the most random things ever. He loved having someone he could be completely honest to.

Jake hated being cheesy, but he had to admit that his black-and-white life had suddenly turned vibrant and colourful when you entered it. 

He knew what this feeling was. Watching you confidently ride the skateboard with a huge smile on your face got rid of any fear he had. 

He wasn’t afraid to acknowledge his heart anymore. 

He was in love with you. 

Never had you imagined someone you’d only met a month ago would become so important to you.

Jake had come into your life when you needed him the most. Even though you couldn’t bring yourself to completely open up to him, his presence was enough. He made things easier for you. With him by your side, nothing felt impossible. 

But the weight of your guilt became a little too heavy to bear sometimes. So much so that you couldn’t help but think you didn’t deserve him. That you were moving on faster than people in mourning should. 

Were you even in mourning anymore? 

Your dead brother would have wanted you to escape the past and live your life. He would have wanted you to stop blaming yourself. He would have wanted you to find your safe space and heal. 

You were tired of the sympathy. You were tired of the it wasn’t your fault and there was no way you could have known. You were done with people telling you to stop torturing yourself. 

You deserved the emotional turmoil you experienced every single day. You didn’t deserve to get your pain taken away by Jake. 

It wasn’t hard to pretend in front of him. He wasn’t in your school and didn’t stay in your neighbourhood. The two of you had no mutual friends. He didn’t know you when you went through the biggest loss of your life. 

You felt guilty for putting up a happy facade and hiding the darkness in you when he was nothing but honest with you. Part of you wanted to tell him about your brother’s death, but underlying that urge was the fear of being thought of as someone who needed to be fixed. 

You didn’t know if you could survive another don’t blame yourself.

Jake was your escape from reality. When you were together, it was just you, him, and your skateboards. Being with him gave you a sense of normalcy. As much as you wanted to lay yourself bare in front of him, you didn’t want him to walk on eggshells around you. 

“What are you thinking about?” you heard him ask. 

Averting your gaze from the car window, you glanced at him and shook your head with a smile on your face. “Nothing.” 

“I can tell when you’re lying.” 

“I swear it’s nothing,” you promised, your heart constricting as the lie effortlessly left your mouth. “I’m just stressed about school. I have a lot of stuff due this week and a debate tomorrow. I’ve never been good with deadlines so I can’t help but be anxious.” 

He studied you for a moment, as if mulling over your words. You could tell he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push you further. Maybe that was why you were so comfortable around him. He never forced you to talk about something and always let you open up at your own pace. 

All he did was offer comfort and let you know he would be there for you no matter what. It was more than you could have ever asked for. 

“Do you want me to drop you back home?” he suggested, concern evident in his tone. “We can hang out once you’re done with your submissions and have a lesser workload.” 

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll just lie in bed and think about all the things I haven’t done yet. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts.” 

“Fair enough,” Jake said and turned his attention to the road again. 

There was silence for the next few minutes. You turned in your seat and reached for the back of the car to fetch your skateboards when Jake turned the corner of the park. 

“Don’t,” he said, making you pause. “We’re not going to skate today.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“I have something else in mind.” Jake glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and gave you an excited grin. “I think you’ll love it.” 

“Really?” you asked, chuckling a little. “Where are we going?”

“Surprise” was all he said. 

Jake’s ‘surprise’ would have been pretty good if you hadn’t identified where you were headed the minute he took the turn that led you out of the town and towards the beach. 

For his sake, you pretended to be oblivious to your surroundings. He was right about the other thing, though. You were loving the direction this night had taken.

Besides, now that you thought about it again, it technically was a surprise to you that Jake remembered the one time you’d mentioned your liking for late-night walks on sandy shores. 

“No way.” You feigned a gasp and looked at him. “The beach!”

He gave you a pointed stare. “Shut up. I know you knew we were coming here.” 

“Yeah, okay,” you said and shrunk in your seat. He laughed softly. “But I really do appreciate you bringing me here.” 

Putting his arm on the headrest behind you, Jake put his car in reverse so he could park it. “And I appreciate you not bursting my bubble and embarrassing me. At least until I deduced how dumb I was to not expect you to know we were going to the biggest attraction of our town.” 

You grinned. “Ten out of ten for effort.” 

Looking at you, Jake rolled his eyes, and that was when you noticed your proximity. Your faces were so close you could count his eyelashes and see the brown flecks in his irises. 

The smile on your face dropped and your gaze flitted to his lips for half a second. Then went back up to find that his eyes were on your lips now. 

Your gazes met before you could look away and pretend whatever sparks you’d just felt had been nothing but a result of your wild imagination. 

He sucked in a breath. You braced yourself, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to leap out of your chest. 

Anticipation paralysing you in place, you could only watch Jake as he leaned in for a kiss. However, the seatbelt prevented him from closing the distance between your lips and a string of curses left his mouth instead. 

“Motherfucker,” he mumbled under his breath and fumbled with the buckle. You snapped out of your reverie and ducked your head, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your fluster. 

Jake struggled with the buckle, his hands shaking due to his embarrassment at not having thought things through and frustration at being cockblocked by a fucking strap around his torso.

You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Deciding to take a leap of courage, you cupped his face in both hands, causing him to stop his actions and look at you.

You glanced at his mouth again and closed your eyes, finally placing your lips on top of his. 

At that exact moment, Jake’s belt buckle snapped open. Grabbing the back of your neck with a hand, he pulled you closer and kissed you harder. His other hand went to your buckle, unfastening it with the kind of expertise he hadn’t been able to showcase while he was undoing his own. 

You let your arm travel to his shoulder for support. Pushing yourself up, you climbed on him and straddled his lap. 

Jake’s seat jerked back as he adjusted it to accommodate you comfortably. His hand rested on your waist, the other one still wrapped around your nape. His thumb caressed your cheekbone gently—a total contrast to the passion with which he was kissing you. 

Running your tongue over his lip, you wove your fingers through his silky strands and tugged at them. He opened his mouth in response to your glaringly obvious request and tilted his head to the side, allowing you to deepen the kiss further. 

Jake knew he’d wanted this for a while now, he just hadn’t realised how much he’d wanted it. Pure, undiluted euphoria was coursing through his veins.

Part of him wanted to pinch himself to confirm that no, this wasn’t a dream, but he reckoned that wasn’t sexy and would ruin the mood. 

Out of breath, you detached your mouth from his. Jake’s lips chased after yours, unwilling to be separated from them just yet. He kissed you a few last times before burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

You rested your forehead on his shoulder, idly scratching the hair at his nape as you tried coming down from the high of the kiss. 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for the next few minutes. Jake rubbed soothing circles on the curve of your waist with his thumb, puckering his lips to leave a trail of butterfly kisses on your neck that caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin. 

You wanted him to say something—anything. What were the two of you now? This wasn’t a situation that was caused because you went with the flow and got a little too lost in the moment. The moment was over, and you were still nestled in his lap. His arms were still around you and holding you close, as if he never wanted to let you go. 

This wasn’t a mistake. This clearly meant something to him. 

Whatever this was, it was real. Real and genuine and infinite—

“I love you,” Jake mumbled against your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you froze for a moment. This was the last thing you’d expected to hear.

He shifted so that the two of you were facing each other and gazed at you with wide, vulnerable, honest eyes. “I love you, Y/N,” he repeated. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” 

You were at a loss for words. “Jake…” 

“I know it was selfish of me to drop something so heavy on you without a warning, but I had to get it out,” he continued, a tremble evident in his voice. “I just wanted you to know what I felt for you. I couldn’t pretend any longer—” 

“Jake,” you stopped him before he could go on, tears pooling in your eyes. “Don’t. Please.” The expression on his face tore your heart to shreds. “I’m sorry.” 

He remained frozen for a moment, as if waiting for you to take your words back. But you didn’t. You didn’t and Jake thought he was dying and his soul was being ripped apart. 

He had thought he would be able to handle your rejection, but then you had kissed him as if your life depended on it and his hopes had skyrocketed. Now, his heart was shattered, and he didn’t think he’d ever be able to pick up the pieces.

The wound you’d inflicted on Jake was one that would never stop bleeding. 

Tears escaped your eyes as you opened the door of his car and climbed off him. Jake vacantly kept staring at where you’d been sitting in his lap, and you were about to shut the door when he said, “Wait.” 

He turned to look at you, pain and heartbreak colouring the whites of his eyes red. The sight only made your anguish increase tenfold.

“I’ll drop you back home,” he said. 

You opened your mouth and closed it again, unable to form a reply. Jake noticed your hesitation and clarified, “It’s not safe for you to go back alone. Please, let me drive you home. I promise this won’t mean anything.” 

You never thought you’d hated yourself so much. You’d stomped on his heart and here he was, begging you to let him do something nice for you.

Gulping, you nodded once and walked to the passenger’s seat on the other side. Jake had closed his door and strapped his seatbelt again by the time you opened the door of your seat. 

Wordlessly, he started the car and began driving. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his knuckles turn white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. You swallowed the urge to apologise again and fisted your hands in your lap, averting your gaze to the window instead. 

The next thirty minutes were absolutely torturous. The air was thick with tension, and you didn’t know how to approach Jake. You didn’t think he even wanted to be approached by you. 

Hell, he probably never wanted to see you again. You were a complete monster for being so cruel to him right after you kissed him and gave him hope. There had been better ways to deal with the situation. 

The car came to a stop in front of your house. You glanced at him, but Jake was staring at the road silently, his grip on the wheel not having loosened even a bit. 

Your heart sank. Biting down on your lower lip, you tried keeping your whimper inside. Wordlessly, you unfastened your seatbelt and threw the door open. 

It was an effort to not glance back at Jake as you walked to the porch of your house. The moment you were inside, you heard him rev his car and drive away. 

Forever. 

Jake was a mess. 

He had been cooped up in his room and wallowing in self-pity the entire week. Technically he did leave for school because his parents kicked him out and he did attend basketball practice because his coach was on his ass. 

But other than that, he was at home, not even sneaking out to skate. He couldn’t be bothered to play the sport anymore.  

It was crazy how you had essentially ruined the only thing he was passionate about. Every time he looked at his skateboard, he was reminded of the times you had shared and the memories you had made. 

He was reminded of how you’d made him fall in love with you. 

You had forgotten your board in his car the night everything went to hell. Jake had brought it up to his room and propped it right next to his, noticing that the two pieces of wood looked really good next to each other. 

He had slapped himself hard when he came back to his senses. He was being so pathetic.

However, he reckoned he did have a good reason to brood and play Valorant, cussing out his teammates for faults that were clearly his. 

You had kissed him and then rejected him in the worst way possible. Begging him to stop pouring his heart to you? That hurt. 

And Jake was going to make it the problem of four people he had never met before. 

“I will boil your fucking balls if you die again, HoonVader6969,” Jake growled into the mic of his headphones. “You have contributed nothing to this game.” 

“Hey!” HoonVader6969 protested from the other side. “I have 2 kills!” 

“2 kills in 8 rounds is pathetic, you son of a bitch!” 

“What the hell, LegendJake404?” HeeKing1510 exclaimed as Ddeonu8809 used his ability and killed an enemy. “Hop off HoonVader6969’s dick! You didn’t land any kills and were the first to die in almost all matches!” 

Jake snorted. “I’d hop off HoonVader6969’s wiener if he had one.” 

JongDong111 laughed. “Can confirm from experience that LegendJake404 is right.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jay!” HoonVader6969 yelled in a strained voice. “We had a deal!” 

“The deal was to not mention the size of your dick to people we know,” JongDong111—Jay—countered smoothly. “I don’t think we’d associate ourselves with someone who calls themself a fucking legend.” 

“You’re one to talk,” Ddeonu8809 came to Jake’s defence. “You literally have a dong in your name.” 

Jake froze, identifying his teammate immediately. The reaction cost him, and he died. Now watching the game through JongDong111’s perspective, he exclaimed, “Sunoo?!” 

“Yeah,” he replied, unamused. “It’s me. You got yourself killed again, by the way, asshole.” 

“Damn,” HeeKing1510 muttered. “You all knowing each other is making me feel left out.” 

“Woah,” Jake interrupted. “Why am I an asshole?”

“Y/N’s been depressed all week because of you! It’s no fun being mean to her when she isn’t willing to fight back!” 

Jay whistled lowly. “Valorant player breaking a girl’s heart? That’s gotta make headlines. Some of us can’t even talk to the opposite gender.” 

“I’m gonna fuck you up, Jay,” HoonVader6969 threatened. “Stop indirecting me.” 

“Sure, Sunghoon,” Jay mocked. “We’ll see how good your fucking skills are.” 

“Get back in the closet, fucker. June’s over,” Jake snapped. “Sunoo, what do you mean Y/N is depressed because of me? She rejected me!” 

Jay hummed. “Oh, yeah, this version makes more sense.”

“You think she doesn’t feel anything for you? Did you even ever ask why she turned you down?” Sunoo questioned as another round began. Jake chose his ammunition, thousands of thoughts racing through his mind at the speed of light. He was utterly confused; what was Sunoo implying? “Or have you been screening her calls and leaving her texts on delivered all week?” 

“Not cool, dude,” HeeKing1510 said in a disappointed voice. “Also, I’m Heeseung.” 

“Nobody cares.” 

“I see why Jay bullies you, Sunghoon.” 

Jake ignored them. “I needed some space to get my shit together. She begged me to stop confessing right after she kissed me, Sunoo. And now she’s trying to get back in touch with me? What am I supposed to think?!” 

It was incredibly stupid of Jake to talk about his shitty love life in front of a bunch of strangers who had probably never felt the warmth of another person, but he didn’t care. He needed answers. What the hell was Sunoo talking about? 

“Look.” Sunoo sighed. “I don’t wanna say anything on Y/N’s behalf, but I’ll suggest you to not ghost her and respond. You guys need to talk. She knows that which is why she’s trying to get hold of you.” 

“Why do you know so much about this Y/N person?” Sunghoon asked suspiciously. 

“She’s my neighbour slash best friend slash mortal enemy slash parasite on my Netflix account.” 

Jake frowned. “Your best friend trashed your car?”  

“Wait, she was the one who trashed my car?!” 

Jake pulled his computer’s plug. 

Your jaw was quite literally on the floor. 

Jake had finally texted you back and agreed to meet you the same night. However, instead of feeling relieved that you’d be able to explain yourself to him, you felt on edge and jittery. 

No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t stop being nervous about what his reaction would be.  

After several sleepless nights and a lot of overthinking, you’d at long last deduced why his opinion of you mattered so much. 

You were in love with him. And you were scared that once you revealed your past to him, he wouldn’t accept it and love you for all your faults. 

You knew Jake deserved more credit than you were giving him—he understood you like no one else did, for God’s sake—but your fear of opening up to someone and laying yourself bare in front of them was tearing you apart. 

Maybe part of you hoped he would feel overwhelmed. Maybe part of you thought it would be better if he didn’t want to deal with your issues. Maybe part of you felt that you didn’t deserve Jake because you still hadn’t forgiven yourself for your brother’s death. 

Maybe that was why you had pushed him away and were sabotaging your relationship. Maybe it was all to punish yourself and hurting Jake in the process had only been the collateral. 

God, you were a terrible person for keeping your feelings bottled up and not dealing with them. You never should have left him in the dark. 

Sighing, you turned on your stomach and screamed into your pillow. You’d been lying in bed all day, not even bothering to go downstairs to drink water when you felt thirsty. 

Your parents had knocked on your door, concerned, but you’d waved them away and said you were on your period and had cramps. 

They didn’t believe you, but you were too distracted by Jake to tell them you weren’t thinking about your brother. You didn’t stop them when they booked an appointment with your therapist the next day. 

Feeling a little better after having screamed your lungs out, you dragged yourself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. 

You looked absolutely horrible. The person staring back at you from the mirror reminded you of the initial few weeks after your brother’s death. You had huge dark circles under your bloodshot eyes, and your lips were chapped and colourless. 

Your hair was a bird’s nest. Your head was pounding, and you had to grip the sink to keep yourself steady. 

You had to clean up. You couldn’t let Jake see you like this. There was nothing you could do to get rid of the exhaustion visible in your eyes, but you could have a bath and put on some makeup to cover your awful physical state at least. 

Taking a deep breath, you nodded to yourself. 

I can do this. 

Jake thought you had told him to meet you at the town park near your house instead of the skatepark that was slightly farther for a reason. Given what had happened the last time you were in his car, he suspected you didn’t want to enter it again.

Or maybe the place reminded you of your ruined friendship. It certainly did to him. He hadn’t visited the skatepark at all the past week. 

Jake had no way to confirm what your intentions were, so all he did was drive anxiously to your decided meeting place. 

You weren’t meeting in the dead of the night this time. It was early—around 6 p.m—and he couldn’t help but think you had suggested that hour because the town park was filled with people. 

Did you not want to be alone with him either?  

Shaking his head to get rid of the intrusive thoughts, Jake parked his car in the parking space and shut the door behind him. 

As he walked to the benches near the pond you had agreed to meet at, his phone lit up. 

y/n: i’m here

jake: omw 

He frowned at his reply. Was he being too informal? Should he have said something along the lines of almost there?

Before he could overthink anymore, a voice broke him out of his reverie. He jumped a bit, not expecting to have already reached the benches. 

“Hey,” you mumbled and attempted a smile. Upon failing miserably, you cleared your throat and averted your gaze away from him. 

Jake’s heart clenched. He was relieved to see you again after a week of zero contact, but he hated the sight of you looking so exhausted. You’d covered up your dark circles with concealer and tried to put some colour to your face using a rosy blush, but he saw right through it all. 

Maybe he should have not ignored you. It seemed that while he was busy getting over your rejection, he hadn’t given much thought to how his confession had affected you. 

“How are you?” Jake asked as he took a seat beside you on the other end of the bench. He realised what a stupid question it was the moment the words left his mouth. You looked miserable. 

You shrugged and wrapped your hands around yourself. He could barely see your face because of your hoodie. “Surviving. You?” 

“Surviving.” 

Silence followed your short-lived conversation. Jake racked his brain to search for things to say, but you beat him to it. 

“Are you wearing concealer?” 

His eyes widened. “W—what?” 

“It’s not blended well.” You pointed at his swollen eyes half-heartedly. “You did a sloppy job.”

Embarrassment crept up Jake’s neck and tinted the tips of his ears red. “Yeah? So did you.” 

You closed your mouth at that. Personally, you thought you’d done a good job at covering how pathetic you felt. You’d gone as far as watching a few episodes of Modern Family to uplift your spirits. Your parents had even said that you looked better when you were leaving the house. 

But then again, it had never been hard for Jake to read you. 

Sighing, you dropped your gaze to your lap and fumbled with your fingers. “Thanks for coming.” 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you.” 

Swallowing thickly, you nodded once. “I’m sorry too.” 

“Y/N,” Jake begged. “Look at me. Please.” 

Eyes burning, you hesitantly faced him. There were tears welling in his bloodshot eyes too but he didn’t bother wiping them away. It broke your heart to see how much your actions had hurt him. 

You knew him well enough to know he hadn’t put makeup on to protect his pride but to protect you from feeling even more terrible about what you had done. 

You needed to tell him the truth. Right now. He deserved to know all of it. 

Wiping your tears, you asked him, “Do you remember the night we met? I told you my brother was going to come to pick me up but then you dropped me home after we finished icing my ankle in the supermarket?” 

Slowly, Jake nodded. “I do.” 

“I lied to you that day,” you continued, bracing yourself for what you were about to say next. “My brother was never going to come to pick me up. He’s dead. He has been for a little over a year now.” 

You couldn’t bear to see the shock on his face. You couldn’t bring yourself to wait for the sympathy to replace it instead. So, you looked away again and kept talking before he could speak, 

“He was a skater too. A really good one. He loved me and cared a lot for me. I used to be so surprised when my friends talked shit about their brothers. Mine used to tease me a lot but he never got me into trouble. We were tight, and always had each other’s backs. 

“I sneaked out to a party one day and my brother caught me. Usually, he drove me wherever I needed to go because I have overprotective parents, but he’d donated blood that day and he wasn’t supposed to drive. I buttered him up and got him to let me borrow his car keys on the condition that I wouldn’t drink and would come back home before dawn. I was desperate to leave so I brushed him off and promised him that I would stay sober.” 

Laughing humourlessly, you shook your head. Your lower lip wobbled as you resumed, “Spoiler alert: I didn’t keep the fucking promise. I got absolutely wasted. Somehow, my brother got to know and left to pick me up. I think it was through someone’s snap because I remember drinking from a beer bong and people recording it. He didn’t want me staying at my friend’s place overnight because that would have gotten both of us in trouble.” 

You sniffled and swallowed a sob. Jake and you were in a fairly secluded place but there were still a few other people, and you didn’t want any unwanted attention. 

“He got in my mom’s car to come to get me—he thought he’d given enough time for the side effects of the donation to fade. The police said he must have fainted while driving. The doctors performed surgery on him the entire night, but they couldn’t save him.” 

Finally looking at Jake, you said, “And you know what the worst part is? I didn’t know he’d been in a car crash till he was dead. Amidst all the panic, my parents didn’t think about waking me up when they got the call, so they never knew I wasn’t at home. I had passed out at my friend’s house from partying too much while my brother died on his way to pick me up.”

Jake’s lips parted. “Y/N…” 

“Everyone keeps saying it wasn’t my fault and my brother should have known better because he was an adult. I hate that my parents don’t hate me for killing their firstborn. I hate that they’re paying one of the best therapists in town to get me through this. I hate that nobody blames me even though I’m responsible for his death. I’m supposed to face the consequences of what I’ve done. I’m supposed to be suffering and I hate that you make things easier for me. I hate that I’ve made you fall in love with a killer—”

“You’re not a killer, Y/N—” 

“Then what else am I!” you burst, tears freely falling down your face now. “I’m a horrible person, Jake! I don’t deserve you and your goodness. I don’t deserve love!” 

“Don’t say that—” 

“Do you know why I was at the skatepark the other day?” you asked angrily. “I wanted to learn how to skateboard so I could feel closer to my brother. He always wanted to teach me. He thought it would be a good way for us to bond, but I always had an excuse. Extracurriculars, academics, exams—I never made time for him and his passion. I wanted to learn how to skateboard because it was my way of keeping him in my heart. 

“But then you came along, and you made me so happy. You knew nothing about my past, and I craved the normalcy I felt when I was with you. It was so easy to befriend you because I didn’t have to take your sympathy and be treated as someone who needed to be fixed. It was so easy to fall in love with you because you were able to offer me comfort despite having no idea about the most traumatic experience of my life!

“I thought I could push you away. I thought I could punish myself by not allowing myself to move on, but I only broke your heart in the process. I don’t know what to do. I don’t wanna be hurting anymore, but it feels wrong and selfish to wish for happiness when I’ve done such a monstrous thing.” 

The floodgates were released, and you were sobbing openly now. Your throat was closing up and its insides felt like sandpaper. Your head was throbbing, and your vision was completely foggy. You felt dizzy. 

Jake scooted closer and wrapped his arms around you, tears falling from his eyes as well. He pulled you against him and let you bury your face in his chest. He hated seeing you in so much agony, but he had no words to offer. 

So, he let you cry for as long as you wanted, rubbing soothing circles on your back and caressing your hair. 

Jake couldn’t even begin to imagine going through such a loss. He admired you for pushing through for so long. He was proud of you for being brave enough to open up to him. 

He still loved you just as much and he was going to make sure to never leave your side as you navigated through your pain. 

Never.

“Jake, we’re late!” 

“Hold on, I’m trying to find my hoodie!” 

Grimacing, you yelled back, “I was wearing it yesterday and spilt mustard sauce on it.”

There was silence for a moment. Then heavy footsteps that sounded a lot like stomping. Then—

“You did what?!”

“I’m sorry!” you whined. “I’ve dropped it at the dry cleaners already!”

Jake gave you a dirty look and shrugged on the denim jacket lying on his sofa. “Don’t bother returning it.” 

“I can’t do that,” you said and slipped your hand through his, tugging him along. “You have to wear it for a few weeks so it starts smelling like you again and I can steal it once more.” 

“I’d offer you another hoodie, but I don’t know how I feel about something else being spilt on it.” 

“Bold of you to assume you have any hoodies left, skater boy.” 

Despite himself, Jake laughed and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You cheeky motherfucker.” 

“What are you going to do about it?” you challenged as the two of you reached his car and strapped yourselves. 

He hummed. “Leave early?”

“C’mon, threaten me with something realistic.” 

“You don’t think I’d do it?”

“You love me too much and haven’t seen me in over two weeks. I know you wouldn’t do it. I’m actually surprised you even thought of it.” 

“You got me.”

Snorting, you relaxed and looked outside the window. It was a pleasant day outside. The sky was clear, and the sun was shining. Everyone had huge smiles, thanks to the beginning of summer break. 

Jake and you had been dating for a little less than two years now. You were both in college now and pursuing your dreams. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get into the same university, but were thankfully in the same state, living just an hour away from each other. 

You didn’t know if you could call your relationship long-distance since traffic was the main reason your travel time crossed the sixty minutes mark.

Nonetheless, you were happy and were making it work. You were in a much better place than you were two years ago. You had an amazing boyfriend who loved you more than you thought was possible and stood by your side no matter what, and a therapist who actually understood you and helped you come to terms. 

Right now, the two of you were on your way to the local skatepark. You hadn’t been able to find much time to keep practising, but Jake had kept his skills polished and made it a point to visit the park at least three to four times a week. 

You were probably going to hurt yourself and make a huge fool of yourself in front of the kids who skated there—he had told you they were extremely talented for their age and had taught him some new stuff too—but it was okay. 

You weren’t afraid to fall anymore; you knew Jake would always be there to catch you. 

[writethelifeyouwant]

Caught In A Trap

Summary: On the night of the transformation, Dean stumbles into a snare, ending his night’s frivolities injured and trapped. Y/N comes across the Alpha and offers to let him recover in her cabin nearby, but Dean doesn’t want help from some little Omega; he doesn’t need it.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: Dub Con, shifter Alpha, a little more werewolf-y than normal A/B/O, Dean’s an asshole, Omega heat, hate sex, rough sex, claws / scratching, oral (f rec), fingering, p in v, knotting, hint of praise kink, bit of dirty talk Word Count: 3,168 Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Scratching | @spnabobingo - Shifter | @spndeanbingo - A/B/O

A/N: Written for @synmorite’s monthly commission! God bless you for seeing this square on the A/B/O board and picking it out because I love this idea for it ❤

You were up all night, listening to the yowling. Sleep had been nearly impossible with all that screeching racket echoing through the woods.

The Alphas come out every full moon, breaking away from their packs and running free in their true forms; something only the Alphas still remember how to do. Omegas had been the first to forget what it was like to run on four legs, and eventually the Betas stopped turning, too. But the Alphas clung to it; their birthright, this mystical power that somehow made them better than everybody else.

It’s all a load of bullshit, in your opinion, but it’s apt – that Alphas still transform into these beasts that terrorise the population once a month. Not that they don’t terrorise you the rest of the time, too. That’s why you live alone, out here in the woods, where no one knows where to find you. Life is much simpler that way.

Towards the break of day, most of the howling has died down. It never got too close to your cabin, but it had still been audible enough that you stayed on your guard. You thought you may have heard a fight break out at some point; a loud growling whine had woken you up in the middle of the night, clearly a wolf in pain. Hopefully no one had been hurt too badly. You may not like Alphas as a rule, but you never like seeing anyone in pain, no matter what presentation they are.

Dragging yourself out of bed with a shiver, you burrow your toes into the shaggy fur rug protecting you from the cold of the wooden floor. The weather has just started to fall from the brisk ephemerality of autumn into the chill drear of winter. You’re looking forward to getting into a hot shower, and curling up with an even hotter cup of tea when you’re done, but first you need to brave the outdoors to bring more wood inside. You’d used your last log on the fire last night.

Bundled up against the cold, you strike out of the cabin, feet crunching the frosty leaves underfoot as you stomp towards the wood pile you keep around the back of the house. You pause when you hear something drifting towards you on the hurried breeze. It’s not a usual forest sound – it’s more of a groan. Sometimes trees made those sort of moaning sounds during a heavy storm, but that wasn’t it. This was higher and keener… and closer.

Looking around apprehensively, you drop your hand to the small knife you wear at your waist. You can’t see anything near you or the cabin, but then you hear it again. That’s definitely a person making that noise. The groans are succeeded by a series of grunts, giving you a better idea of which direction the noises are coming from. Following the trail that winds around the back of your cabin, you pick your way through the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible.

As you move through the thicket of trees, the groaning and rustling is getting louder, and it occurs to you that you’re nearing the circle of traps that you have surrounding your cabin. Fuck, something’s probably gotten caught. You draw your knife and creep around the large hemlock bush that’s blocking your view of where the closest trap is, expecting to see a raccoon or something when you round the corner.

It is absolutely not a raccoon caught in that trap.

Dean, as he grumpily informed you was his name, is now sitting in your favourite squashy armchair in the middle of your cabin. He’s clutching a warm washcloth to the deep teeth marks that your wolf trap gouged into his forearm. He’d been partially transformed still when you’d found him, a wolf’s leg jutting out from the shoulder of his very human body. It was a fucking weird sight to stumble on.

“Here, let me see how that’s healing up,” you offer, coming back to sit on the couch by his side and reaching for the bloodstained cloth. Dean growls at you, like he had when you’d first approached him outside, and you roll your eyes reflexively. Alphas are such fucking babies.

“Let me see the damn arm,” you grumble, snatching the limb and pulling it into your lap so you can get a better look at the wound. “It looks like it’s healing, okay,” you muse, noticing the cuts are definitely shallower than they had been at first. The prongs of the trap had gone entirely through his leg… arm… whatever the hell limb this was.

“Of course it’s healing, perks of the job, sweetheart.” Dean flashes you a cocky sneer, and you slap the fresh cloth down onto his forearm much more forcefully than necessary, making him hiss and recoil.

“Good, that’ll heal too then,” you smirk, satisfied with your comeuppance for now. The tea kettle whistles and you heave yourself off the couch to go turn the burner off. “What kind of tea do you want?” you call behind you, looking through your available options.

“I don’t drink tea,” Dean grunts aggressively.

“Well, too bad. You were half frozen when I found you out there, this’ll help warm you up”

“I don’t need some Omega bitch to take care a’me,” Dean growls. You spin on your heel and give him a stern look before pointedly dropping a tea bag into a mug and pouring the kettle.

“You don’t want me taking care of you?” You carry his tea back to the armchair and drop it on the side table with a loud thunk.

“No,” Dean snarls, baring his teeth, which are still pointier than usual after last night’s full moon. You refuse to back down, your anger driving you closer to him.

“No? So you don’t want some Omega bitch to take care of that boner you’ve been sporting since the first time I touched you?” Your eyes drop accusingly to the poorly concealed erection that is bulging in his lap. You’ve loaned him a pair of your loosest sweatpants, the ones you save for days you want to be extra comfy, but they’re stretched awkwardly over his crotch, obviously not being made to accommodate the male anatomy.

Dean scoffs at you, rolling his eyes.

“What, like you woulda offered,” he sneers, tone brimming with condescension.

“Well, I was gonna, but if you don’t need my help...” You throw your hands up in surrender and shrug, turning away to go back to the kettle and pour your own cup of tea. Of course, you absolutely hadn’t planned on offering, but Dean is royally pissing you off, and the tease had been too good to resist.

“Oh, so now you’re a cocktease, huh, sweetheart?” Dean follows close behind you, you can feel his breath on your neck.

“I didn’t do anything that warrants that kind of reaction,” you stare pointedly at his crotch. You would jump off a bridge before admitting it, but the sight is actually making your mouth water.

“Yes you fuckin’ did,” Dean snarls, lunging forward and bracketing his arms on either side of you, trapping you against the kitchen worktop with his chest pressing into your back.

“Get the fuck off me!” you grunt, trying to throw him off, but the vestiges of his strength from the transformation are still working their way through his body, and he’s far too strong for you to move. “I didn’t do anything,” you argue again, futilely.

“You’re the one walkin’ around here smelling this fuckin’ delicious,” Dean murmurs, the sudden quiet of his tone somehow more threatening than when he was growling at you. “How d’you expect an Alpha to react? When we smell a little ‘mega bitch just ripe for the taking. It’s instinct, baby.”

One of Dean’s hands leaves the counter, but his body is holding yours in place, so there’s still no chance of escape. His fingers worm their way between you both and grope at the crotch of your leggings. You can’t contain the moan that sneaks up your throat at the feeling of his hand against your sex.

“And it’s not just me who wants it, is it? Are those panties getting nice an’ slick for me, sweetheart? You are about to go into your heat, aren’t ya? Lucky I’m here then, to take care of you.”

You try to contain the moan that bleeds through your lips when Dean’s fingers finally come into contact with the little bundle of nerves between your legs, but you can’t quite manage it. He’s right, as much as you’re loath to admit it. You are about to go into heat, you’d been expecting it for days now, and the presence of an Alpha just off the back of his transformation is clearly pushing you towards that inevitability even more quickly.

“Get the hell off of me, asshole!” you growl, trying again to buck him off. “I don’t need some Alpha douchebag taking care of anything.”

“Hey now,” Dean tuts, grinding his hips into your ass to keep you still, “that’s no way to talk to an Alpha, baby girl. ‘Specially one who’s just trying to help.” You can feel his stupid fucking grin against the back of your neck when he ducks down to nip at the skin stretched across your spine.

Embarrassingly, the feel of his teeth against your neck, so close to your mating gland, sends a gush of arousal down your body. Dean laughs heartily, and you know he’s just felt the slick that’s leaked into your panties. He must be able to smell it, even if he hasn’t felt it against his fingers yet.

“You can struggle all you want, ‘mega, but you can’t fool me,” Dean whispers, his breath burning against your ear.

Suddenly, your centre of gravity has shifted and you’re hanging upside down, because Dean has picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. He stomps towards your bed on the opposite end of the cabin, ignoring your fists currently pounding into his back. He tosses you onto your back, the mattress making a disgruntled creaking noise as he climbs on with you.

“Fuck off,” you seethe, kicking out at him, but he catches your foot in his grasp easily. The easy strength he uses to manipulate you is disconcertingly hot, and you curse your Omega instincts for making you feel like that, for telling your body that it should be submitting to this man in front of you; this Alpha.

“I know just how to get bratty little Omegas like you to behave,” Dean smiles cockily, then slides his hand along your ankle into the bottom of your leggings and shreds the fabric along the seam. It rips all the way up to your crotch and then down the other leg as well. You catch sight of one of Dean’s claws extending from a finger, and he uses it to tear the remaining threads, so your leggings are hanging from your waist, openly exposing your soaking panties.

You’re frozen, watching as Dean places his clawed fingers one by one on your leg, then drags them, agonisingly slowly, up your thigh. An involuntary shiver rocks through your body at the sensation of him scratching so delicately against your flesh, all the while knowing he could draw blood if he pressed just a little harder, sank those claws just a little deeper. You feel another wave of slick flood your panties at the mere thought, and you once again curse how fucking kinky your Omega instincts have always made you. You shouldn’t want anything that’s happening right now, but deep inside, you know you really fucking do.

Dean snags one claw through the lace of your panties and tugs threateningly.

“What, no sassy comments anymore?” he grins triumphantly, eyes gleaming.

“Fuck you,” you grunt, gritting your teeth against the urge to moan as the backs of his fingers skate through the wet between your legs, one knuckle catching against your clit and making your hips jerk.

“That’s ‘fuck you, Alpha’ to you, ‘mega,” Dean growls, then in one swift motion he’s leaning down and ripping your panties off with his teeth.

“Fuck!” you whimper in shock when his teeth scrape lightly over the folds between your legs, quickly followed by his tongue delving between them to lap at your entrance. Your hands fly to his head, intent on pushing him away, except without meaning to you pull him closer instead. You feel him laugh against you, but he doesn’t let up in his mission to fuck his tongue as deep inside you as it can possibly reach.

He switches focus after a moment and licks his way up to your clit. Your hips buck against his hold when he starts to trace tiny circles around it with his tongue, teasing you more than you can take. You whimper, ashamed at how pathetic you sound, but maybe he takes pity on you, because a moment later he sucks you between his lips and does something with his tongue you hadn’t even realised was possible.

A finger – thankfully clawless now – snakes its way inside you and begins teasing at the nerves just inside your entrance. Dean chuckles deeply when you whine and clench around him, quickly adding another finger and spreading them to stretch your walls.

“So tight, ‘mega,” he groans, lips still gliding over your slick skin. “Don’t know how you’re gonna fit my knot in here.”

“Oh fuck,” you whimper at the thought, craving it, wondering just how big Dean really is, hoping desperately that he can fit, because you really do want him to fuck you now.

“You’re close, aren’t ya, sweetheart,” he smirks, speeding up the pace of his fingers and bringing his thumb up to toy with your clit. “I can feel how tight you’re squeezing me, your body’s just beggin’ to let go, ain’t it?”

“Please,” you whimper, burying your head against your pillow in shame, while at the same time thrusting yourself down onto Dean’s hand.

“I gotcha sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he reassures you, holding your hips down with his free arm and fucking into you even faster. “Just gotta do one little thing f’me first, yeah?”

“Please,” you beg again, struggling in his grasp, desperate to reach your peak. You’d do anything at this point.

“Just gotta be the good little Omega bitch I know you are, an’ say ‘thank you, Alpha’,” Dean’s voice rumbles deep in his chest, almost feral.

You can’t believe him, the pompous asshole. You’re not planning on saying anything of the sort.

“Go to hell!” You try to growl at him, but it comes out closer to a whine.

Dean shakes his head at you, like he’s disappointed, and withdraws his hands from between your legs with a smirk.

“Still gotta teach you some manners, apparently.”

“Someone needs to teach you some fucking manners,” you grumble under your breath, but Dean’s dark chuckle lets you know he’s heard you.

“C’mon, ‘mega, I’m doing you a favour here,” Dean coos, reaching for the band of his sweatpants and pushing them down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. “You’re fuckin’ lucky I wound up here to get you through this heat.”

You stare at his cock hungrily, utterly astounded by how fucking perfect it looks; long, but even more importantly, thick. Your cunt actually flutters when you think about Dean fucking you with that. He finishes peeling himself out of the ill-fitting sweatpants and crawls over you, like a hunter stalking his prey. You’re caught beneath him, trapped by your desire to have him ravish you, and you’re terrified he can tell just how badly you need him to ruin you.

His claws are back out, and in the next instant the rest of your clothes are hanging in shreds off your body. You want to be angry about it, except all you can think about is Dean scratching those claws down your body, trailing your skin with red welts that will show anyone who looks at you that he’s claimed his territory.

As if he can read your mind, Dean traces his claws lightly over your chest, pausing to dig deeper against your collarbone, then scratching more harshly, leaving a trail leading from your breasts down your stomach, to back between your legs.

“Stop fighting me, ‘mega,” Dean bends down to whisper in your ear, nibbling at your throat while he’s at it. The scratch of his teeth so near your mating gland makes you dizzy. “Lemme take care’a you, let your Alpha in.” You whimper as he grabs his cock and runs it over your entrance, collecting the slick that’s begun leaking out of you and onto the bed. “All you gotta do is ask, sweetheart.”

You don’t want to break, you really don’t, but you know you will. You know there’s no denying how badly you want him – need him – inside you. And the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you can have what your body so desperately craves.

The moment the word Alpha crosses your lips, Dean is pushing inside you. You cry out, unable to hold back, immediately trying to fuck yourself into his cock, and Dean just laughs down at you, clearly pleased with your desperate submission. You feel a sting of betrayal at the warm glow that fills you when Dean begins to whisper condescending praises in your ear.

“Good girl, good ‘mega, knew you had it in you. Knew you were just a sweet little cockslut deep down. Just lay back baby, lemme take care of you. Gonna keep you locked on my knot until your heat’s all better ‘mega, I promise.”

“Fuck, Alpha, please,” you beg, shame and desire mixing to heat your skin.

“That’s it, ‘mega, you keep fuckin’ begging f’me,” Dean growls, fucking into you violently. You feel his knot start to swell, pushing threateningly at your entrance. “If you’re really fuckin’ good, maybe I’ll decide to keep you. Let you use my big Alpha cock whenever you want. How’s that sound sweetheart?”

You mewl desperately, teetering on the edge of your climax. Dean must be able to tell, you’re squeezing him so tightly between your legs.

“Fuckin’ cum for me, ‘mega. Cum on my Alpha cock and say fuckin’ thank you for it,” Dean pounds himself into you, his knot popping inside, rubbing against that sweet spot inside your cunt, and you scream out your release, a babble of curses and thank yous and Alphas tumbling from your lips as you gush around him. He collapses on top of you, grunting through his own climax as his knot pulses against your walls.

You know you’ll be tied together for a while now, while he finishes cumming and his knot deflates, and as much as you hate to admit it, you really don’t mind being trapped here with him anymore.

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[dcbbw]

Sunday Snippets 8.7.22

Happy Sunday, Tumblr! I hope everyone’s weekend has been restful, relaxing, and restorative.

I am here for Six Sentence Sunday. I have snippets from two new stories to share. Ideas for a lot of stories, old and new, are bubbling up; fingers crossed secret ingredients arrive soon and are not delayed by supply chain issues.

And I PROMISE, I am working on some Riam: they’re going to be birthing babies, celebrating 25 years on the throne, and “vacationing” in Texas. Also in the mix: some Liara, DC AU Maxlivia, Little Nobles, One Night Stand, and working on a second part to Déjà vu (trying to work a twist in there).

Snippets are below the cut, but no music inspos just yet. As always, everything is in a state of rough draft, and final product and serving sizes may vary.

Wanderlust (Adventures of a Crown Prince):

We end the call; I absently scratch my bare stomach as I pour a cup of joe, ignoring the cream and sugar.

I like my bad habits undiluted.

I walk over to the window, pulling the heavy drapes apart using a braided gold tassel. Yep, I’m in London. The city is gray and overcast, a sea of umbrella raised against the drizzling rain.

It’s six months after the death of Queen Consort Eleanor. Father thought it best I begin touring foreign countries to expand my knowledge of international politics and policies. I have a decent knowledge of the concept, but textbooks and real-life are two different things. As Crown Prince of Cordonia, it was my duty to be able to speak not only knowledgeably, but from experience.

It was all a farce, two-fold: I was a known runaway, and Constantine had no idea how to handle it. I was punished for my travels within Cordonia, I was berated. But he never asked me why I ran.

Never.

He assumed I wanted to see the world outside of palace walls.

I didn’t.

I was searching for my mother. I still am.

The second reason he sent me away was so he could grieve alone without having to deal with two sons who were also hurting. Eleanor was a loving mother to both Liam and me. She never replaced my mother nor my memories of her; Eleanor didn’t even try. Instead, she gave me new ones to remember her by.

Liam was farmed out to the Walkers, and I was sent to England for a fortnight. I’d like to think Father sent us away for our own safety; it was evident he had enemies, but were they in the Palace? This was a time for us to be a family, to grieve together and show solidarity … not separated and alone under the watchful gaze of guards.

The guards didn’t save Eleanor. They never found my mother. And he thought they were the best course of action.

Life in a Southern Town:

Voting in the Mayoral primaries is in exactly eight weeks, with early voting taking place in four weeks. Please make sure you are registered to vote in what promises to be a true family feud! The candidates are:

Riley Brooks-Rys, the Incumbent. Mayor Brooks-Rys has served two four-year terms as our fearless leader and has brought major employers to our city and surrounding suburbs, kept the tax rate steady; she has also been instrumental in bridging the gap between law enforcement and the community to lower incidences of crime in Creswell.

Her missions and goals for a third term include diversity and inclusion, sustainability, and affordable housing.

Liam Rys: Liam Rys is the ex-husband of the Incumbent, former State Senator, and a current councilmember representing Ward B. Mr. Rys is also chair of the City’s Economic and Development Board. He says that Creswell is ready for change and effective leadership, and he’s the man to do it.

He has not revealed his agenda should he be elected Mayor.

The couple share custody of their two daughters, Eleanor and Fabiana.

Madeleine Amaranth: Current councilmember at-large. She is the former sister-in-law of the Incumbent and lost soundly in the last Mayoral election. Ms. Amaranth is the Southeastern District Manager for Walmart Corporation and can be found cheerfully cashiering at the Diamond Plaza Center store when not traveling for audit and inspections at regional stores.

Councilmember Amaranth is running on a platform of governmental transparency, city growth, and equity for every member of the Creswell community.

Leo Rys: You may remember this candidate as the former District Court Judge who stepped down from the bench for good 18 months ago to hang his shingle as a criminal defense attorney, taking on most of Creswell’s highest profile and murkiest cases.

If elected, Attorney Rys, ex-husband of Councilmember Amaranth, promises to clean out City Hall and repair the communication, economic, and class systems dividing Creswell,

Drake Walker: Mr. Walker, owner of the Saddle Up Bar & Grill located in Government Square, is a familiar face at Council meetings in addition to sitting on both the Neighborhood Affordability Council and the Creswell Transportation Board.

He and the Incumbent were previously involved in a romantic relationship which must not have ended well as he has since sued the city a whopping 12 times, citing that his FOIA requests for public information were never answered.

When asked why he was running to be Mayor of Creswell, Mr. Walker replied with, “That woman is a demon, and it’s time for the Devil’s handmaiden to return to Hell where she belongs.”

We here at Creswell Chat are unsure if Mr. Walker is running on a religious platform or not.

Tagging:@jared2612 @ao719 @burnsoslow @marietrinmimi @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian  @indiacater​ @kingliam2019​ @bebepac​ @liamxs-world​ @the-soot-sprite​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @mom2000aggie​ @cmestrella​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @liamrhysstalker2020​  @neotericthemis​ @twinkleallnight​ @umccall71​ @superharriet​  @busywoman​ @gabesmommie1130​ @tessa-liam​ @phoenixrising308​ @beezm​ @gardeningourmet​ @lovingchoices14​ @foreverethereal123​ @mainstreetreader​ @angelasscribbles​ @lady-calypso​ @emkay512​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @21-wishes​ @princessleac1​ @charlotteg234​ @bbrandy2002​ @queenrileyrose​ @debramcg1106​ @alj4890​ @yourfavaqua222​

In case you’re interested: @motorcitymademadame 

[waitimcomingtoo]

Adventures in Cat Sitting

Synopsis: Tom is not a cat person, but watches your cat anyway

Masterlist

“Hi baby.” You appeared in the doorway of the living room with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a nervous smile on your face. You had a big favor to ask of Tom and you already knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Hi princess.” Tom sat up on the couch and noticed your face. “You look like you need something.”

“I might.” You shrugged as you sat down on his lap. He immediately wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off, clasping his hands together under your spine.

“Let me see if I can help you.” He chuckled as he tugged you closer by the blanket.

“So you know how I have to go away this week for my cousins wedding?” You began, slow as not to startle him.

“Yeah. I miss you already.” He pouted, making you laugh and kiss his lips.

“I miss you too, lover.” You ran your fingers though his hair. “So I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Anything, Princess.” He smiled lazily at you. “What do you need?”

You tugged at his shirt for a moment and avoided eye contact, shrugging a little as if you hadn’t been planning this for days.

“Ineedyoutowatchmycat.” You said quickly.

“What?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows when he didn’t understand you.

“I need you to watch my cat?” You grimaced, finally looking at him. You knew how Tom felt about your cat from the many, many times he told you.

He wasn’t a cat person. Not at all. And your cat in particular seemed to be his sworn enemy. They never got along and you often had to hide him in another room when Tom was over.

“You mean he’s not going to be guarding the pits of hell?” Tom tilted his head in confusion, making you roll your eyes.

“He is not that bad.” You insisted. “You can survive a few days with him.”

“Uh Uh.” Tom shook his head firmly. “You know how I feel about cats. That’s my least favorite kind of pussy.”

Your jaw dropped as he laughed at his own joke, stopping when you smacked his arm.

“Don’t get fresh.” You scolded. “I just need you to watch my cat for a few days.”

“You don’t have a cat.” Tom disagreed. “You have whatever Pandora let out of her box.”

“Oatmeal is really sweet once he warms up to you.” You told him. “You haven’t spent enough time with him to do that.”

“Because every time I get close to him, he hisses at me.” Tom exclaimed.

“Not every time.” You said pointedly. “Just most times.”

“Can’t you put him in the kennel?” Tom whined, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this.

“He’s not social and I haven’t found one I like.” You pouted, putting on puppy dog eyes to sway him.

“So drop it off in the forest for a few days and let it get some life experience.” Tom shrugged, earning himself another playful smack.

“Tom.” You groaned. “He’ll die out there.”

“We can only hope.” Tom mumbled under his breath.

“I think this will be good for you guys.” You ignored his comment. “You’re the two most important men in my life and I need you to get along.”

“How am I possibly on the same level as that heathen?” Tom held a hand over his chest like he was offended.

“I love you both so much and it kills me that you don’t get along.” You whined, stroking his cheek to pull him back.

“We’d get along just fine if he wasn’t such a bastard.” Tom snapped, making you gasp.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call my cat a bastard?” You asked. This was a conversation you had had many times as it was Toms preferred nickname for you cat. Tom shrunk down on the couch and looked at the ceiling as he blew out an annoyed huff.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“This could be good for us too.” You assured him. “Watching a pet is an integral part in any relationship. I’m giving you all my trust.”

“You’re not giving me your trust.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’re giving me your fat ass demon cat.”

“Come on, please baby?” You jutted yourself bottom lip out. “Oatmeal might grow on you.”

“Aw. Like genital warts?” Tom smiled sarcastically.

“No.” You said flatly. “Not like genital warts.”

“Why do I have to watch him?” Tom complained like a child. “Why can’t you just leave him in a box with some food and water?”

“Would you like that if I did that to you?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“If there was alcohol in the box, then yeah.” He shrugged. “I might just enjoy myself.”

You realized you weren’t getting anywhere and pulled away from him with a new approach ready.

“Fine.” You sighed and dramatically looked away. “If you don’t want to watch my cat, I’ll just have to find a boyfriend who will.”

You started to get up but Tom immediately pulled you back, making you giggle as he held on firmly. He had finally caved and you knew it.

“Woah woah wait.” He nuzzled into your neck and left kisses there before sighing. “I’ll watch your bastard child.”

“You’ll what?” You texted him.

“I’ll watch your precious fur baby.” He said through a fake smile. You twisted your body and wrapped your arms around him, kissing every inch of his face you could reach.

“Thank you.” You gushed. “You’re a life saver.”

“You’re welcome, darling.” He chuckled as he lovingly rubbed your back. “You better remember this if I ever need a kidney.”

“I don’t think the two things carry equal weight.” You tilted your head playfully and laughed.

“They don’t.” He agreed. “You’re welcome for letting you off easy.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you decided not to fight back since he was doing you a favor. Instead, you opted for kissing him long and deep to show your appreciation.

“Thanks for doing this.” You mumbled against his lips. “I know you don’t like cats so I appreciate it. I owe you one.”

“Mind if I collect my toll now?” Tom smirked as he flipped you onto your back, making you laugh loudly.

“Not at all.”

Sunday

“This is his food.” You handed Tom a pink bag with whiskers stitched on. “He gets two cups a day, dry at morning and wet at night. He won’t eat unless you scratch him behind the ears after you put it in his bowl.”

“I’m not putting my hands anywhere near that thing.” Tom shook his head as he took the bag. “It has a bloodlust.”

Oatmeal was nestled in your arms, staring at Tom with a vengeance. Tom stared back with wide eyes, already feeling his pulse quicken.

“No he does not.” You cooed as you scratched Oatmeal behind the ears. “Make sure to keep an eye on his water bowl and never give him milk. It’s bad for his teeth.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want him losing his razor sharp little death traps.” Tom said sarcastically, seemingly speaking directly to the cat. “If he bites me, I’ll bite him right back.”

“Tom.” You sighed deeply. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but do not bite my cat.”

Oatmeal suddenly bared his teeth and hissed at Tom, making Tom gasp.

“Did you hear what he just said to me?” Tom exclaimed as he pointed to the cat.

“He’s just getting used to you, is all.” You shrugged as you set Oatmeal down on the ground. He took a careful step towards Tom before hissing again.

“He did it again!” Tom jumped into your arms in the style of Shaggy and Scooby. “He called me a slur.”

“No he didn’t.” You laughed as you set Tom down. “His treats are in the bag. Only one a day and none if he’s naughty.”

“I didn’t realize he had a setting other than naughty.” Tom sassed your cat, making him hiss once again. Tom looked at you for help and you sighed.

“Hey, behave.” You scolded Oatmeal as you stroked him. “His toys are in the bag too. He gets pretty feisty with the fish on a string so don’t go near him when he’s playing with it.”

Oatmeal jumped up on a chair and leaned towards Tom, peering at him as if extended an olive branch. Tom looked at you and you nodded, encouraging him to reach out towards the animal. Oatmeal leaned forward and sniffed Tom’s hand before snapping at him. Tom jerked his hand back and cradled it, though he wasn’t actually bitten.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Tom said suddenly. “He’s gonna put a hex on me.”

“Tom, please?” You whined when he went back on his offer. “I have to leave now and there’s no one else who can take him.”

“Give him to one of your friends.” Tom whimpered as he hid behind you. “What about Stacy? Don’t you hate her?”

“All my friends are either allergic or coming on the trip with me.” You pleaded with him.

“There has to be someone else who can watch this hell beast.” Tom spat as he shot daggers at Oatmeal. You chewed your bottom lip as you thought of way to keep him on board until something came to you.

“Well, my ex watched him a couple times.” You shrugged casually as you picked Oatmeal back up. “Maybe I can call him and-“

“I’ll watch the damn cat.” Tom cut you off, always the jealous type. “Come here baby.”

He cooed and walked towards Oatmeal, who swiped at him with his claws.

“Ah! Bitch!” He screamed and jumped away from

“Are you sure?” You innocently batted your eyelashes. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to-“

“La la la la la.” Tom held his hands over his ears and sang loudly. “Enough about him. I’ll watch Oatmeal. It’s just two days right?”

“Four days.” You kept a smile on your face so you wouldn’t worry him.

“Four days?” He gasped. “How many people is she getting married to?”

“Just one. Who knows? If this goes well, maybe she’ll be flying out to my wedding soon.” You flirted as you held his chin between your fingers. This pulled a smile out of Tom, making him walk to you and wrap his arms around you. You fitted your face into the crook of his neck and left a kiss there, taking in your last few moments with him before you left.

“I’ll miss you, princess.” He mumbled as he rubbed soft circles onto your back.

“I’ll miss you too.” You sighed, resting your chin on his shoulder. You pulled away after a long time and kissed him, letting it linger until you couldn’t breath. You patted his cheek softly before bending down and petting Oatmeal.

“Amd I’ll miss you Mr. Fluffy Pants.” You cooed as you picked him up. “Who has the fluffiest pants?”

“I believe that’s his feline obesity.” Tom said sweetly as he narrowed his eyes at your cat.

“Funny.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Don’t be late.” He pouted, feeling his heart sink as you collected your things. You noticed his forlorn demeanor and hugged him again, taking in the scent of his cologne.

“How could I stay away from my baby?” You mumbled into his ear. You pulled away and jutted your bottom lip out before smiling wickedly.

“And I’ll miss you too.” You added as you pulled away. Tom rolled his eyes at you while you opened his door.

“Hilarious.” He replied sarcastically. “I’m laughing my-“

The door shut.

“-ass off.” He said weakly as silence settled into his home. He let out a sigh as he stared at the door, the smell of your perfume still lingering on his skin. He hated being apart from you, even if it was just for a few days. Tom’s reminiscing was cut short by a hatch meow from the floor. Tom jumped, having forgotten all about the cat he had promised to watch. Oatmeal stalked over to Tom and sat down in front of him as if to mock him.

“Listen you little whore.” Tom pointed an angry finger at the car. “I’m in charge. There will be no shenanigans this week, you hear me? Not one single shenanigan. That means no scratching the furniture, no shedding, and absolutely no napping in sunbeams. And I swear to God, if you piss on my rug, I’ll kill you. I will kill you with my bare hands. You hear me?”

The silence in the room was replaced with tension as Oatmeal silently stared at Tom with narrowed eyes. Finally, he let out a soft meow.

“Shut up.” Tom jumped again. “I’ll kill you.”

Oatmeal took another step towards Tom, making Tom take a step back. Oatmeal seemed to like this and sat down again.

“Why are you staring at me?” Tom snapped. “Do you want to fight?”

Oatmeal lifted his paw and put it back down, almost like he was stamping his foot. He let out a whine and took another step towards Tom, meowing towards the bag you had given him.

“Oh. It’s 6.” Tom realized. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Oatmeal meowed again, louder this time.

“Don’t use that tone with me.” Toms voice cracked. “My beloved just left and I’m very sensitive right now.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to stare at him, silently judging Tom as he wiped away a tear. Tom composed himself quickly and went over to the bag you’d left, taking out Oatmeal’s pink bowls and bag of food. Oatmeal jumped up on the counter to watch Tom as he prepared the food, both of them sneaking glances at each other every once in a while. Tom stuck his tongue out at the cat before setting his food on the ground.

“Here you go, fatass.” Tom snapped, taking a step back when Oatmeal walked over to the bowl. Oatmeal sniffed the food skeptically before looking up at Tom as if he was waiting for something.

“I’m not scratching you behind the ears.” Tom scoffed with hands on his hips. “You’re not royalty.”

Oatmeal let out a howl and pawed at the bowl, demanding his ear scratches.

“Starve, then.” Tom shrugged. “See if I care.”

Oatmeal hissed at Tom, who responded with the middle finger. He kept his middle finger up and directed at Oatmeal as he walked out of the room, going into his bed room to calm down. After five minutes of thinking, he went back to the kitchen.

“After care consideration I’ve realized Y/n will break up with me if I kill her cat, which is fair.” Tom announced as he walked to Oatmeal. “That is why I’m doing this. Not because I care about you or your well-being.”

Oatmeal meowed softly and pawed at the bowl again, making Tom roll his eyes as he crouched down.

“Here are your little bitch scratches behind your little bitch ears.” Tom grumbled as he scratched the cat. Oatmeal purred in satisfaction before eating the entirety of his bowl. Tom backed away and watched him, smiling a little at how docile he seemed. He quickly wiped the smile off his face as Oatmeal finished and looked up at him.

“I need to call my brother about a script we’re writing, not that it’s any of your business.” Tom said as he looked at the floor. “Don’t bother me while I’m on the phone.”

Oatmeal didn’t pay any attention to Tom, instead busying himself with cleaning his left paw. Tom narrowed his eyes at the cat and huffed out an angry breath.

“Whatever. I know you care You just won’t admit it because you’re jealous.” Tom laughed bitterly as he stared daggers at Oatmeal. Oatmeal continued to ignore Tom as he began licking his other paw.

“You’re jealous that I have abs and you have a flabby cat tummy that drags on the floor.” Tom continued, determined to get the cats attention. “And we both know which one Y/n prefers.”

Oatmeal flicked his eyes to Tom before lifting a leg and licking his nether regions. Tom gasped and touched a hand to his chest in offense.

“You’re disgusting.” Tom spat. “I’m leaving.”

Tom turned on his heel and heard a meow from behind him as he walked away, resembling a taunting laugh.

“Don’t follow me!” Tom called once he got to his office. He sat down at his desk and rubbed his tired eyes before dialing his brother.

Forty minutes later, Tom and Harry were knee deep in their script. They had gotten to standstill, unable to come to an agreement with where to take the story.

“Right, right.” Tom nodded as he rested his chin in his hands. “I was thinking for - - oh for Gods sake.”

Tom’s attention was claimed by Oatmeal slipping in through the crack in the door, letting out a meow to announce his presence. Harry saw Tom’s jaw clench as he stared at the cat offscreen, leaning closer to the camera to get a better look.

“Was that a cat?” Harry asked as he watched his brother swat at something to his left.

“Hey!” Tom bellowed as Oatmeal jumped up on the desk. “No feet on the table!”

“Mate, who are you yelling at?” Harry tapped the screen repeatedly to get his brothers attention.

“Oatmeal.” Tom grumbled, jerking his neck at the cat as if to challenge him to a fight.

“Y/n’s cat?” Harry chuckled, knowing all about his brothers hatred of cats. “Why is he at your place?”

“Shes at her cousins wedding this week.” Tom pouted. “I told her I’d watch the furry bastard.”

“How’s that going?” Harry smiled teasingly, already having an idea of how it was going. Before Tom could answer, Oatmeal walked in front of his phone and knocked it down with his tail. He let out a proud purr as Tom picked his phone back up.

“Shut up!” He shrieked. “I’m on the phone!”

“Tom! Stop yelling at the cat.” Harry snapped his fingers at Tom. “I asked you how it was going.”

Tom tore his eyes away from Oatmeal, who had made himself comfortable in one of Tom’s desk drawers.

“Not great, man.” Tom shook his head. “Not great.”

Monday

“I’m home.” Tom announced as he walked into his front door. “Did you kill any children and eat their souls while I was gone?”

Oatmeal didn’t come to the door right away like a dog would, making Tom worry briefly. He set his grocery bags down and knelt to the ground, patting his thighs the way he would do to call Tessa. It’s not that Tom was dying to see him, he just didn’t want to be the guy who lost his girlfriends cat. Much to his relief, Oatmeal appeared from around the corner, the bell around his neck jingling.

“There you are.” Tom sighed as he stood up. “You look like shit.”

Oatmeal hissed and pranced over to the couch, stretching out his limbs in a sunbeam before laying down. As his body his the couch, tufts of hair flew into the air. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise before running over to the couch to investigate. Even though it had been less than a day, Oatmeal had managed to get his fur all over the couch.

“Excuse me? What is this?” Tom demanded as he picked up some fur between his fingers. Oatmeal rolled onto his side and stared at Tom with unblinking eyes.

“What did I say about shedding? You think this is some brothel that you can defile with your fur? It’s not.” Tom snapped, stomping over to the hall closet to get the vacuum. He plugged it into the wall, shooting angry glared at Oatmeal every few seconds.

“Unbelievable.” Tom pretended to gag as he vacuumed up the hair. “You disgust me.”

Oatmeal flicked his tail back and forth, causing the fur Tom had missed to float into the air. Tom shook his fist at the cat before getting his food out and putting it in the bowl.

“I’m taking a shower.” He grumbled as he rinsed his hands. “Eat your damn food.”

Tuesday

“Oatmeal? Come in here.”

Tom stood with his hands on his hips, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the damned cat to come. When he didn’t show, Tom balled his fists in frustration and let out a silent scream.

“Oh my God. SPSPSPSPS.” Tom yelled, spit flying from his mouth as he called the cat once again. Oatmeal waltzed into the room, taking his sweet time to get to where Tom was.

“Do you want to explain to me what this is?” Tom asked angrily as he pointed to the surprise Oatmeal had left on the floor while he was working out. Oatmeal sat down and tilted his head at Tom, daring him to raise his voice.

“You’ve done it.” Tom nodded as he tightened his lips into a line. “You’ve shit on my floor.”

Oatmeal purred before turning his attention to his paw, loudly cleaning it to show Tom he had no shame.

“The disrespect you’ve shown for my hard wood is astounding.” Tom pointed a finger at him. “You’re a fiend. A sneaky, fatass little fiend.”

Oatmeal looked towards the kitchen table and meowed before looking back at Tom. He shook his body out, fur flying everywhere and settling in the air.

“Why must you insult me in this way? Why wouldn’t you go in your-“ Tom cut himself off when he looked at the litter box, still on the kitchen table where he left it. So that was what Oatmeal had been looking at.

“Oh. I told you not to put your feet on the table.” Tom realized the cat had listened to him after all. Oatmeal had pooped on the floor, but only because Tom failed to put the litter box down. Oatmeal let out a quiet meow and walked over to Tom, hitting his leg with his tail.

“No, I get it.” Tom sighed as he went to get cleaning supplies. “We were both at fault. I mean, I wasn’t the one who shit on the floor, but we both made a mistake.”

Oatmeal circled Tom’s body before taking a seat at his feet, peering up at him with wide eyes. Tom felt guilty as he looked at the animal, knowing he could never understand that he was sorry for yelling at him. He walked to the table and got the litter box, setting it down where Oatmeal could access it.

“Here.” He said softly. “Sorry about that.”

Oatmeal walked over to the box and looked up at Tom, giving Tom the impression that he was forgiven. But of course, Oatmeal still had a cold side. He hissed viciously at Tom before stepping into the littler box.

“Fine.” Tom scoffed. “I’m not sorry.”

Your cat and your boyfriend stared at each other for a long time, neither wanting to be the one to leave. That was a sign of weakness, and they were both determined to dominate the other.

“I’m getting frozen yogurt.” Tom said suddenly, unable to take the tension any longer. He grabbed his keys and left without another word.

Less than an hour later, Tom returned home with a ring of chocolate frozen yogurt around his mouth. He locked the front door and turned his light on, jumping when he saw Oatmeal sitting in the middle of the floor with a vacant stare.

“Jesus. Warn a guy, would you?” Tom rolled his eyes as he held a hand over his heart. “You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

Oatmeal stayed silent as Tom put his keys in the bowl by the door, his eyes following Tom’s every move.

“Yeah, you would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you?” Tom narrowed his eyes at Oatmeal before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Oatmeal let out a loud hiss, making Tom jump out of his skin. He had crossed the room to get to Tom, all without making a sound, and sat himself at his feet. Tom stumbled back, only stopping when his back hit the wall. His heart pounded in his ears from the scare, and if he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn Oatmeal was laughing at him. Not wanting to show weakness, Tom quickly collected himself and stood up straight.

“Alright listen here you little bitch.” Tom snapped. “I don’t like you. And if I wasn’t seriously in love with your owner, I would microwave you. I would put you in the microwave and watch you rotate just like them damn rotisserie chickens until you blew up. And then I would set the microwave on fire.”

Oatmeal let out a long meow, sounding insulted by Tom’s words. His eyes softened upon hearing the hurt in the cats voice, fixing his body language to not look as menacing.

“Okay I wouldn’t do all that, but I would drive out to a really far place and leave you there. And that’s basically the same thing.” Tom shouted as he folded his arms. Oatmeal dragged his paw behind his ear and purred, taking no interest in Tom or his threats.

“Shut the fuck up.” Tom hissed. Oatmeal hissed back and swiped a paw at Tom.

“I’ll shave you.” Tom threaten as he backed away. “I will shave you bare.”

Oatmeal continued to advance on him, backing the actor into a corner.

“You don’t think I’d do it?” Tom asked with a shaky voice. “I’ll get the buzzer right now. Do you know how ugly you’ll look?”

Oatmeal stopped in his place and sat down, leaning back on his front paws to stretch.

“That’s right.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’ll look like an uncooked chicken breast. Fuck you.”

Oatmeal watched Tom curiously as he left the room, satisfied with how the conversation went.

Wednesday

Tom sat at his kitchen island, slowing sipping his fourth glass of wine. It had gotten to the point in the week where he missed you too much to do much of anything, which resulted him getting drunk early in the day. He had been locked in a staring contest with Oatmeal for quite some time, never breaking eye contact as he poured his next glass.

“What are you looking at?” Tom slurred as he brought the wine glass to his lips. Oatmeal said nothing, blinking slowly at Tom as he drank.

“So what?” Tom shrugged. “My girlfriend is gone. I can get drunk at 2 pm.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to the side, something Tom was growing to resent.

“How dare you judge me?” He spoke slowly, heavily intoxicated now. “You’re not even wearing clothes.”

Oatmeal let out a soft meow, making a smile tug at Toms lips.

“Heh heh.” He chuckled as he took another sip. “Imagine that? You’d look pretty stupid in clothes.”

Oatmeal took a few steps toward Tom, sweetly purring as he rubbed himself against Toms legs.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you stupid.” Tom said softly. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s me. I should’ve gone with Y/n. I miss her so much.”

Oatmeal peered up at Tom with kind eyes, the first docile interaction between them.

“Yeah.” Tom smiled as reached down to scratch his ears. “Me too.”

Oatmeal jumped onto the chair, and then into Toms lap, nuzzling himself against his neck. Tom happily stroked his soft fur, liking this newfound civility between them.

“This is gonna sound crazy, but what can I say? I’m a crazy guy.” Tom laughed heartily. “Do you want to drink with me? Do you just wanna go crazy and drink away the day?”

Oatmeal looked up at Tom and meowed, making Tom smile.

“Hell yeah!” He cheered. He picked Oatmeal up with one hand and grabbed the wine bottle with the other. After setting Oatmeal down on the ground, he poured wine into his water bowl.

“Wine is for cats! Wine is for people! Wine is for people and cats and people.” Tom sang happily. Oatmeal purred as he watched Tom, curious about the unknown liquid in his bowl.

“Thats right.” Tom agreed. “It’s also for church.”

Oatmeal sniffed the wine and pulled away, the sour smell sending a shiver through his body. He waltzed over to a sunbeam that was lighting up the floor and laid down, letting the sun warm his body. Tom stared at him for a moment before shrugging and laying down beside the cat.

“Do you believe in God?” Tom asked as he looked over at him. Oatmeal let out a small meow, to which Tom raised his eyebrows.

“You’re crazy, man.” Tom shook his head and patted his chest. “You’re a crazy dude.”

He laid in the sun with Oatmeal in silence for a moment, taking in the warmth from the floor.

“It’s so warm down here.” Tom sighed in content. “It’s like a hug from the sun.”

Oatmeal swatted his tail towards Tom, making Tom smile. Tom reaching over and rubbed Oatmeal’s tummy, his attention diverting to the bell on his collar. He took it between his fingers and saw your name and address engraved on it, sighing again as he was reminded about how much he missed you.

“I have to tell you man, I love her so much.” Tom pouted wistfully. “Y/n is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tom smiled as Oatmeal purred in understanding.

“You want another drink you crazy bastard?” He asked the cat as he got off the floor. He poured some wine into his glass, and then some into Oatmeal’s already full bowl.

“Me too, man. Me too.” Tom said as he took another sip and got back on the floor.

“You know, Oatmeal isn’t that bad of a name. I can see why she named you that, though.” Tom thought out loud as he stroked the cats fur. “You’re the exact color of her favorite kind. The maple brown sugar one, you know? She gets so excited in the winter when it’s one sale. I’ve seen her clear a whole shelf into her shopping cart. And then she sits down at the table when her hair is still messy and lets it warm her up. She puts her little spoon in it and blows on it even though it’s never that hot. She’s so cute, man. I love her so much. I could watch her eat oatmeal everyday.”

Oatmeal purred as he rubbed his head against Toms hand.

“I know.” Tom chuckled. “We really are lucky.”

Tom situated himself into a more comfortable position on the floor and held his hand up, letting the sun rays shine through his fingers and illuminate the cat hair in the air.

“I gotta say, you’re really onto something with this whole napping in sunbeams deal.” Tom commented. “I’m quite enjoying this.”

Tom was too busy drinking on the floor to hear his front door open. You set your bags down and went into the living room, smiling in confusion when you saw your boyfriend and your cat on the ground.

“Tom?” You laughed at the sight. “I’m home.”

Toms eyes widened as he sprang off the floor, the wine in his glass sloshing around as he stood up.

“It was his idea!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at your cat.

“Oh really?” You humored him. “What are you guys doing?”

“We…sunbeam.” Tom explained as he weakly pointed at the sunbeam, still too drunk to form a real sentence.

“I see.” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You placed a welcomed kiss to his lips, immediately tasting the bitter wine.

“Are you drunk?” You asked as you finally noticed the wine glass in his hand.

“Maybe.” Tom giggled as he struggled to stand up straight.

“Never mind that.” Your eyes shifted to Oatmeal and the vacant spot next to him that your boyfriend previously inhabited. “Were you just…cuddling my cat?”

“No.” Tom said quickly. “We were both laying there and you happened to walk in during the brief moment we touched. That’s all.”

“Why were you on the floor?” You questioned as you took the wine glass from his hand and took a sip. Tom opened his mouth but found no words coming out, opting to change the subject instead.

“Come here!” He smiled as he pulled you in for a long hug. “I missed you. Tell me all about your trip.”

“I picked up food from your favorite restaurant. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you everything.” You suggested as you pulled away.

“That sounds perfect.” He sighed, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. “I’m starved.”

You pulled him in for another kiss before bending down to greet your cat.

“Hello baby.” You cooed as you scratched behind Oatmeal’s ears. “Were you a good boy for Tom?”

“He was all right.” Tom shrugged, sending a wink to the cat. “Nothing to report.”

“You spend all that time whining about watching him but you have nothing to report?” You asked skeptically as you stood back up.

“It was pretty mellow.” Tom said dismissively, not wanting to get into the multiple fights they had. You squinted at Tom as if you didn’t believe him and folded your arms.

“Hm. Maybe he did put that hex on you after all.” You teased. “I’m gonna change real quick and move my bags.”

“Okay. I missed you.” Tom pulled you by the hand and kissed you again before you could leave the room.

“I missed you more.” You gave him another quick kiss and grimaced. “You taste like alcohol.”

“I’ll set the table, princess.” He called after you as you walked towards his bedroom.

“Thank you!” You called back.

Tom got to work setting the table and putting the bag of food near the place settings. You came back in no time in one of his large T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. Tom smiled softly, always happy to see you in his clothing.

“You look comfy.” He commented as he pulled you towards him by the waist.

“I am.” You hummed. “That was such a long flight. I don’t know why I wore jeans.”

“Well at least you’re home now. I couldn’t handle us being apart for another day.” He pouted while resting his forehead against yours.

“Me either.” You smiled at him until your eyes shifted to the wall behind him, noticing something strange right away.

“Tom?” You asked as you pulled your head back.

“Yes, love?” He answered, obviously to the concerned look on your face.

“Why is there wine in Oatmeal’s food bowl?”

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[butwhyduh]

A Date to Remember

Damian Wayne x Superman’s daughter reader

Damian is 20, reader 19, Jon is her little brother at 18 and Kon acts like an older brother to her.

Warning: angsty and kidnapping

You’d always told Damian that the sunset on the Kent farm was the best in the world. Damian smiled a little as he drove down the long road to Smallville. Damian had thought about classic dinner date in one of Metropolis’ fanciest restaurants but you insisted on meeting him in a barn.

He felt underdressed. Blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Why did he let Jon help him get dressed? He felt ridiculous but at least he wore sensible shoes. But deep down Damian knew you world like it. And he was certainly willing to feel a little foolish for you.

Clark was off world and Lois was on a mission. Jon had his own date in the city so it was the both of you alone tonight. How long had it been since the two of you were alone without someone around? Between his half a dozen brothers and your family with literal super hearing... yeah it’s been tough. So being 50 miles from everyone was kind of a dream.

Damian pulled in the driveway with some flowers and walked up to the house. He knocked on the door only for it to swing open. Damian noticed the splintered door frame and his heart sped up. He called your name. Act like the rich billionaire son while working like Robin, even though he wasn’t quite sure he still wanted the name.

He scanned every surface and he noticed a small scratch near the back door after looking through every room. Most people wouldn’t even notice it. You weren’t there. He looked closely and saw drag marks in the gravel path to the barn. His heart was thundering at this point. You weren’t in the barn either.

You were half Kryptonian but the genetic inheritance was complicated. Jon had won the lottery with having most of his father’s powers and not being as sensitive to Kryptonite. You had lost it. Hypersensitive to Kryptonite and only some speed and increased hearing and strength. Barely about the average human. You weren’t a fighter.

Damian pulled out his phone to call Jon.

“Bit busy here, Damian,” Jon said, sounding far from amused. Damian could hear kissing noises in the background and frowned. He didn’t want to hear that.

“Your sister is missing,” he said and he heard a lot of movement on the phone.

“What??”

“The door jam was kicked in and there are scrap marks of her being dragged away. I think she’s been kidnapped,” Damian said. His voice felt tight. He, son of Batman, let his girlfriend get kidnapped. “Whoever it was clearly waited until she had no other Kryptonians around to grab her. It wasn’t a coincidence that she was taken tonight. Can you get out here? I’m calling father to try and trace her. Her phone is missing too.”

“I’m leaving in 5. Damian, if Luther has her, she can’t handle Krytonite,” Jon said, worry bleeding into his voice. “It’s like it poisons her.”

“I know. But we don’t know who has her. Let’s hope they don’t know she’s part Krytonian,” Damian said, already mentally moving on to his next step. Contact Bruce. Get the bat computer to trace her. Look for more evidence. Don’t freak out completely that she might be poisoned by Kyrotonite.

“Okay. I’m about to fly. I’ll see you soon,” Jon said before hanging up.

——————————

You woke up with a cough. You head throbbed and your stomach rolled as you laid in a bed? Maybe a couch? It was a horrible feeling but you knew exactly what it was: Kryptonite. You couldn’t forget what how that stuff made you feel. You tried to look around to see it but the room was completely dark. Night vision would be nice but you got human eyes. Your slightly enhanced hearing heard nothing but the wind outside. Okay, you were ground level or higher.

You tried to twist in the cuffs that bound your hands only to cry out. There was the Kryptonite. It was on the outside of the cuffs and you almost threw up at it touched your skin. You were cuffed with Kryptonite to a hospital bed, you figured. What other bed had areas perfect for cuffs? Your legs were equally restrained and you felt so exposed in the dark room.

Your dad was off world. He wouldn’t hear you if you called for him. But Jon might. But if you yelled, someone might come in and who knows what they would do. You’d wait a little bit longer. You wanted to fall asleep. The Kryptonite made you feel so dull. Like the first time you were exposed to it.

You were all of 4 years old. Your dad had brought you with him to the Justice League meeting. Relatively safe and Batman promised Robin would watch you. Dick was so excited to be a babysitter. You had hugged him tight enough to hurt before running to the climbing wall.

“Hey!” Called the 16 year old. “I brought games instead!”

You warily walked back over to him and card games and board games fell out of a duffle bag as he opened it. Half the stuff you were far too young for. You bent down as he scooped up his gameboy. You pulled out some games and open a side pocket to grab a small metal box. Dick sat down his gameboy carefully before turning back to you.

“Don’t open th-“ he started before you pulled open the box to show a bright green stone. Followed by you throwing up all over his bag of games. You dropped the box and sat on the floor. Dick quickly closed the box with the piece of Kryptonite and put it in his pocket. He had boroughed one of Bruce’s bags that apparently wasn’t fully unpacked.

“Dad, I don’t feel good,” you said as Clark ran over. Dick looked at you so guiltily.

“I didn’t know,” he swore. “I’m so sorry.” Bruce stood by quietly.

“We need to talk later,” Clark had told Bruce and yeah, they were mad at each other for a while.

——————————————

Jon arrived shortly in a dress shirt and slacks and he looked at Damian just as weird as Damian looked at him. They had basically switched clothing.

“Not to judge but that’s date clothing? You told me to not wear flannel,” Jon said accusingly.

“That’s because your sister wanted me to wear this,” Damian said back. “Let’s focus on finding her. Father’s calling me now. We’ll change in a minute.”

“Hello, you’re on speaker phone,” Damian said.

“Her tracker is showing a warehouse owned by Luthor Corp in downtown Metropolis,” Bruce said. “Do you need help? I can see if Dick is nearby.”

“No thanks. Jon will help me. Thank you, father,” Damian said before hanging up.

“Luthor. I knew it,” Jon said with a frown. “Wait, you put a tracker on my sister? Does she know?”

“Now is not the time. Let’s get to Metropolis,” Damian said, changing the subject while both got dressed. Jon nodded and offered his arms. “I’m not being carried like that. I’ll hold on your back,” Damian said. Jon rolled his eyes and nodded again.

As they flew over corn fields and pastures, Jon began to question Damian. “So when did you put this tracker in? Does she even know? Where is it? Do I want to even know?”

“It’s sub-dermal in her forearm and I haven’t told her yet. And it’s irrelevant right now as it might save her life,” Damian said and Jon looked disgusted. “We need to focus on saving her and then you can be her angry brother.”

“Wow...”

————————————

You moved and the cuffs burned your skin. You gasped and screamed “Jon! Kon!” You called out to them hoping one of them would hear you.

“Dad!” you cried frantic. There was no way he would hear you. “Damian! Jonathan! Conner!”

You panted and your head pounded. You were so tired. You’d lose consciousness if no one saved you. Then who knows what they would do to you.

“Superman!” You screamed desperately before finally passing out.

——————————

“Did you hear that?” Jon said as they flew towards the Metropolis skyline.

“No all I hear is wind. What did you hear?” Damian said.

“Y/n. She’s calling for us,” Jon said speeding up.

“Is she okay?��� Fear bled into Damian’s voice.

“I can’t tell. I’m trying to hurry,” Jon said flying quickly towards the industrial area of the city. He landed on the roof of a warehouse. Jon’s eyes glowed as he looked through the building.

“7 men. 4 posted outside the door to the room that’s she’s being held on the 2nd floor. Her heart rate is steady and she isn’t screaming any more. Almost sounds asleep,” Jon said after his analysis.

“Probably tranquilizer. Father’s data said this building is used for research purposes. Does that fit?” Damian asked.

“Uh more like research subject holding. Maybe a small lab on the first floor but other than cameras everywhere, there isn’t much science stuff that I can scan. But also the basement is sealed off,” Jon said.

“How?”

“Lead bound. You can check it out while I rescue her. 4 guys is nothing,” Jon said making a fist.

“Hold on. Luthor would probably have her surrounded by Kryptonite. Just in case one of you look for her. And that’s the last thing we need,” Damian said. “I’ll rescue her and you look for the basement. Knowing Luthor, it’s probably an entire facility of experiments below. He just hadn’t gotten her room ready yet.”

Jon looked frustrated. “Fine. You rescue her but be careful. She is the weakest of us. She’s not invulnerable to bullets or anything.”

“Most of the people I rescue aren’t either,” Damian reminded him. “And I’m certainly not taking a chance with my beloved.”

Jon looked over to respond but Damian was already gone. Just like the rest of the bats: silent goodbyes. Jon quietly moved down to the first floor. He was working but at the same time, his ear was trained on his sister’s heartbeat. Jon might be the younger sibling but she didn’t have powers and he felt so protective.

—————————————

Damian rolled his eyes at the 5 ways he could see that the security sucks in the 3 minutes he hung out the window before climbing in. Large rafters and guards who didn’t bother to look up. Not to mention the fact that they let there be a solid wall between the set of guards which meant that Damian was easily able to jump down to knock them out in pairs without the other set knowing. If the security was any worse they would leave the door unlocked.

The door wasn’t unlocked but it was a deadbolt that Damian easily disabled. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was on purpose. He gulped before opening the door. What if you were really hurt? Or dead? Ignore and get in there.

Damian opened the door and he felt white hot rage. You were tied to a bed and were unconscious. You were in a nice dressy shirt and sweatpants. They’d clearly taken you while you were getting dressed. Damian wanted to kill them. He had to take a breath to help you. Jon was taking them out and Damian was on rescue. He had to stay level headed.

Even the cuffs on your wrists were inadequate. If they had attempted to restrain Damian, he would have gotten out in 3 minutes. When he was 6 years old. The Kryptonite had left nasty red burns on your skin and he clenched his jaw at the sight. Jon better be punching extra hard.

Damian picked you up bridal style and you groaned a little before turning your head against his chest. The farther he got you from that fucking Kryotonite the better you were. He took you to the roof and you started waking up.

“Damian,” you said softly and a little confused.

“Hey you’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked looking all over your face for injury.

“Kryptonite. I hate that stuff,” you said. Damian grabbed your hand and you hissed. He looked to see bright red knuckles. You’d clearly fought at some point. He certainly knew the signs of punching someone.

“You fought back?”

“Yeah and hitting someone in a helmet and body armor sucks. I got just a few in before they pulled out the damn rock. I throw up every damn time,” you said shaking your head.

Before Damian could comment on how brave and stupid it was to punch body armor, there was a huge crash down on the first floor as someone flew in the building through the window. You grabbed him tightly.

“What the hell is that?”

“Kon. Conner’s here. I’m up here,” you yelled.

Conner flew up to the roof. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Kidnapped. Damian and Jon saved me. He’s still down there actually. Can you check on him?” You said. Damian suddenly stood up.

“What if you were a distraction and the real problem is downstairs?” Damian suddenly said with clarity. The Kryptonite alone was enough to hold you down. The half ass security was to hold their attention when they rescued you. Jon was already flying back down before Damian could say more. Damian weighed his options: leave you alone, bring you with him, or stay out of it and while the last sounded nice, he’d have to go in case of more Kryptonite.

Before Damian could decide, Kon was back on the roof. “You’ve got to come see this.”

Downstairs was a lead lined basement. That alone had you nervous. Jon stood by the door. Little spattering of blood could be seen on his hands. He had a hard look.

“Warning: this is going to be messed up,” he said and you were even more worried. You walked in to see cages. Kids. Unconscious adults lay around in the hallway. “They were experimenting on them.”

You felt nauseous.

“My father is on the way. This is much bigger than I thought,” Damian said messing with his comms. His free hand was on your shoulder protectively.

There were 8 kids in cages. Bruce was running tests on their blood and investigating the area as you helped to get them out of the cages. What a terrible Valentine’s Day.

“Beloved, let’s get you home. We can stay at the farm tonight. You need sleep,” Damian said worried. You looked at him distracted.

“They’re just kids.”

“Come on. Let’s go. Kon is going to stay there too. Just for the night,” Damian said helping you up. Kon flew you both back to the farm.

“I’m going back to help. You okay, kid,” Kon asked as Damian inspected the house.

“I’ll be alright. Just help those kids,” you said.

“Yeah, of course,” he said ruffling your head. You rolled your eyes. “But seriously, the way you screamed I thought you were being murdered.”

You stiffened. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Kon knew when to quit. Something he had learned from Tim. He gave you a big hug and flew off towards Metropolis.

“Hey. I made your bed so you can sleep,” Damian said quietly. “And a change of clothes.”

You nodded and went upstairs. Damian helped pull off your shirt and put on a sweater. He looked at the marks around your wrist and red knuckles but didn’t note any more bruises or cuts. You pulled on sweatpants and climbed in small twin bed that Lois kept for guests. The pink and yellow flowery quilt felt warm and comforting on your skin. Damian lay beside you after changing and looked at you seriously.

“What is it,” you asked.

“I was so scared tonight. I have been doing this for years and I’ve never been so worried,” he said softly and you looked down and flushed. If you weren’t so freaking sensitive to Kryptonite this wouldn’t have happened. Damian gently lifted your chin and you looked at him.

“I was scared to lose you,” he said running his thumb across your cheek. “I’m going to drive you absolutely mad because I don’t want to take my eyes off of you.”

“Yeah?” You said with a little smile.

“Uh hm. But first sleep,” he said and your body certainly agreed. You curled into him and rest your head on his chest. His arms held you tightly before rubbing your back. You fell asleep to Damian staring at you. He stared at you all night, not even sleeping when Kon came in a few hours later.

———————————

“I have to know what all that was, Bruce,” you said at the Batcave the next day. “I was in there.”

He looked at you for a minute. “They were experimenting with meta DNA. All of those kids have gifts and they wanted to take you too. There were even plans to inject those kids with your blood to see if it would affect them.”

You shivered a little at the thought. Lex Luthor and his obsession with Kryptonian DNA.

“All the records were burned. Most of the warehouse too. Your brothers were.... thorough. And Clark will be home in a few days,” Bruce added.

“Really?”

“Yes. And he’s furious at Luthor. Probably will call soon. He wanted to let you sleep earlier. We’re just running programs here. Why don’t you and Damian go upstairs,” he suggested.

“Bruce Wayne,” came a stern voice behind you. You turned to see your mother, Lois Lane, looking like she was going to beat up Batman. “You put a tracker in my daughter without her permission?”

“You what?” You said.

“Actually that was Damian. Though I want to point out that it helped save her life,” Bruce added. Lois slapped him soundly across the cheek. Bruce just blinked and rubbed his cheek.

“Damian, you put a tracker in me?” You asked shocked. You’d assumed Jon had heard you or Damian’s detective work brought them to the warehouse. Not an invasive tracker in your body. “What the hell?”

“Well I can explain..”

[puddingsdiary]

Knight in shining armor

Happy Birthday Victor! Actually I wasn’t sure if I would finish this in time. Originally I had planned something completely different but it didn’t work out. So I started from scratch two days ago.

“I’m sorry, a bunch of problems accumulated. So I won’t be able to return in time to celebrate your birthday with you.” Hearing her voice over the phone, it was obvious for Victor how disappointed the girl was. He knew how important all those small and big rituals were for her, especially his birthday. Not only that. She has been on this business trip for nearly two weeks, while he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he missed her. Phone and video calls are not the same. 

Originally it was planned for her to return tomorrow. His birthday would be the day after. Postponing it for more than two days, some serious problems must have occurred.

“Don’t worry. I will not run away, so you can mess up my house as soon as you are back.”

“It’s decoration, Victor. And last year you liked it.” The girl, who had gotten at least some of her good mood back, giggled. “It’s still not the same, but as long as we’re together it will be fun!”

“That’s my dummy. I’m looking forward to what you have planned. Anyway, you mentioned a bunch of problems earlier, were you able to solve them?”

“Yeah, they weren’t that complicated, but the filming was delayed quite a bit. Additionally this actor, Mr Ken, is not easy to deal with. Which is the main reason why I have to stay a couple more days.” MC sighed.

“Not easy to deal with?” Something within Victor made him ask for details.

“Mhm,” Knowing he couldn’t see her but nonetheless she nodded while answering. “I’ve told you about him, demanding some special coffee when he arrived? He also won’t start working before 10am. Saying he needs his beauty sleep…” 

There were more little, annoying things like that, but what really made her fed up was the fact that he tried flirting with MC. Every day, despite not only her obvious lack of interest, no, she also spoke with him, demanding to stop this behaviour.  It didn’t help, on the contrary, after that day he was even more pushy. 

If one would ask her, she would gladly board the next plane back to Loveland City and leave this guy behind, but there were contractual obligations holding her back from doing that. Nevertheless, she was a big girl, an independent and successful woman, able to deal with it alone, no need to tell Victor about it. He would only start fussing over her and being jealous.

“And that’s all there is to it?” Normally, Victor could read her like an open book, but it wasn’t as effective over the phone, so he knew there was more to it without being able to pinpoint it.

“Yeah, yeah.” A little bit caught off guard, MC tried to answer in a light tone. “In case he is a woman I would say he is a diva. A big one.”

“If you say so.” Still Victor wasn’t really convinced.

“Don’t worry. I’ve learned from the best how to handle difficult people, you know.”

“Who would that be?”

“Well, you should have heard of him, he is LFG’s CEO, Mr Victor.”

“Since you have learned from him, you should also know, staying up late isn’t good.”

“But I’d like to talk to you a little longer.” Seeing her pouting face clearly in front of his eyes, Victor couldn’t help but smile.

“Sleep early and come home fast.”

MC sighed again, “I’ll come home as fast as I can. Good night, Victor.”

“Good night, dummy.” 

Ending the phone call made MC sigh for the third time. Victor’s last words were so soft and tender, they made her heart flutter and miss him even more. She continued looking at her phone screen with his picture on it, while she settled into bed.

After ending the call, Victor kept staring at her picture. He was sure something wasn’t right. Something worse than delaying the flight back. It was late, after 10pm, so instead of calling he opened the messaging App.

Book a flight to Tokyo for tomorrow afternoon. Return flight 14th morning. And clear my schedule for the timeframe.

After sending the message Victor got up and went to bed. If he was going to Tokyo tomorrow to check on a certain dummy, he needed to get up early.

~~~~

Another apartment, different part of the city, a *pling* alerted Goldman of a message from his boss. He furrowed his brows at it. 

“Why Tokyo, and so suddenly?” He murmured.

“Did you say something?” Vivian came over for dinner and prior to the message they were going to get ready for her to go home. Of course, Goldman would take her home, a lady wasn’t to go home this late alone.

“Oh, just got a message from Victor, to book a flight to Tokyo tomorrow. There shouldn’t be anything critical for him to go there out of the blue.” Goldman was quite at loss. He knew his boss, so there had to be something.

“You know, MC is in Tokyo right now. Originally she was expected to be back tomorrow, but I heard Anna and Kiki talking about a delay of two or three days.”

“Hm, I know she is out of town, nearly two weeks now. But even a simple delay wouldn’t make Victor fly over all of a sudden.”

“Sorry I don’t know any details of what happened.”

“Don’t worry, it’s probably something with his birthday. First I’ll get you home.”

~~~~

Next morning at LFG, Victor came in even earlier to get as much done as possible. The way it knocked at his door told him it was Goldman.

“Come in.” Not interrupting his work he waited for Goldman to start talking.

“Sir, as requested I booked a flight for 4:30 this afternoon. You’ll be back at 9am on the 14th. CGC wasn’t happy to cancel the meeting. They demanded it to be as soon as possible. I’ve rescheduled them for noon on the 14th.” While talking he checked the information on his phone as well as sent the digital tickets per mail to Victor.

“Good. We’ll leave here shortly after one for the airport, then.”

“Yes Sir. Anything else I can do?”

“Make sure those idiots from CGC hand in their report on time. No reason for them to slack off while I’m away.”

“Of course.” Goldman went back to his own office.

~~~~

A few hours later, not long before he had to take Victor to the airport it knocked at Goldman’s office door. 

“Come in.” He wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Sorry to interrupt.” 

“Vivian, what are you doing here?” Feverishly he tried to remember if they had a lunch appointment.

“Well, you know, one word led to another and so it happened that I mentioned today the trip you had to book for Mr. Victor.” Vivian seemed to be a bit uncomfortable.

“It’s not a secret, so don’t worry about mentioning it.” Goldman tried to comfort her.

“Uhm, yeah. Anyway, Kiki got excited and just now she asked me to bring this over.” Vivian held up a small black bag. 

“Victor needs to take this with him, but no peeking for him!" She tried to imitate Kiki. It didn’t go well. Goldman was still able to imagine the, always in high spirits, employee of MC.

“Thank you. I’ll make sure he gets it. You happen to be free for lunch tomorrow?” Taking the bag from Vivian, Goldman seized the opportunity.

“I happen to be free, yes.” Vivian beamed all over her face.

“Nice, the usual place, or do you want something different?”

“The usual place is ok. See you tomorrow!” 

~~~~

All the while in Tokyo, today was the worst day for MC. 

To avoid Mr Ken, she went down to breakfast early. It had worked alright the other days, but not so today. 

As soon as she settled down with her plate he stood at her table asking if she would mind the company. Yes she minded, but telling him that would be rude, after all those delays they couldn’t afford anymore, so there was no way she risked him throwing a tantrum or even worse. So she had to bear with it, regretting not having chosen a bigger table so others from her crew could join. She had lost her appetite, but forced herself to eat at least a toast, knowing it would be a long day with only dinner being guaranteed. Mr Ken tried to stir up a conversation as well as body contact by asking for sugar or milk, touching her hand when she pushed those over to him carelessly. He also stretched his legs against her’s, of course apologizing, not that she believed him. As soon as she could, without being overly rude, she escaped. 

At the film set, everyone was overly busy, trying to make up for the lost time. Same went for Mr Ken, well at least when he finally showed up. Evading him shouldn’t be that difficult. But there were many times he called out for her to *discuss* things, like his lines or stage directions. Things better to be discussed with the director. 

Everytime he also made remarks on how good MC was looking today or how much he liked her perfume. She didn’t even bother with using perfume. As every other day before, her crew members tried to help her by occupying him as much as possible, especially the make-up artist - “Don’t move or talk, Mr Ken, or the make-up will go wrong.” - or the director, but they were only able to do so much.

During lunch break the whole situation reached the next apex. 

MC, standing in a corner and nibbling on a sandwich while answering emails, suddenly had a shadow falling over her. It was Mr Ken, blocking any way of escape for her with one of his hands pushing against the wall behind her right next to her head. 

“Why don’t you take a real break with me in my room? I can make you feel really relaxed.” Mr Ken said that with a smile, he thought no woman can resist.

MC looked up at him “I am really busy, this project isn’t the only one needing my attention. So if you’d like to excuse me, I’d like to continue my work.” Then she tried to slip under his arm, only to be grabbed by her wrist. 

Lucky for her at that exact moment the director called out for her and Mr Ken had to let her go. Looking after her and only for a second, the smile on his face warped into something a predator would show towards his prey.

All this led to the fact that MC was now hiding in the women’s bathroom, trying to distract her mind with work on her phone. Not very successfully since her mind either went back to this disgusting man, giving her stupid ideas on how to get rid of him or thought of calling Victor just to hear his voice but that would made him suspicious of something being wrong.

One of the make-up artists entered, seeing MC standing there with her phone in her hand.

“Why not call in sick, tomorrow?” She asked, washing her hands.

Not that this idea hadn’t crossed MC’s mind, too. “Thanks Carol, but I’ll manage. Somehow. We made good progress today. Around lunch tomorrow, maybe a bit later we should be able to wrap up everything here. So it isn’t that much and believe me I’m on a flight back home as soon as possible then.”

“Back home to your boyfriend?” Showing the first genuine smile on this day, MC nodded. “I’m a little envious of you, having LFG’s Victor as your boyfriend. Don’t get me wrong, I love my boyfriend, but a girl can still dream.” Both women laughed. “Oh, and Mr Ken has already left, so no need to hide here any longer. For today at least.” She informed MC before opening the door to leave the room.

~~~~

The three hour flight went by in a blink of an eye. Victor worked at his notebook, to make up for the time he will lose. It was a lucky coincidence that it was his birthday tomorrow. Ever since he met MC, and her demand to celebrate his birthday, he kept his schedule light on this day, especially on workdays.

Not so lucky was the 1,5 hour delay because of a faulty fuel pump.

On his way to the hotel he checked his messages, only to receive one from MC stating that she is on her way back to the hotel, that everything went smoothly today and if this continues tomorrow she may be on her way back home in the afternoon or evening. 

Finish up your work properly. Don’t be sloppy. And send me your flight information as soon as you get them.

Pressing send he smiled, imagining her face when he showed up at the hotel.

What he didn’t imagine was the picture he saw after entering the hotel lobby. 

Victor planned on asking a receptionist to get MC down using some kind of excuse. He didn’t need to go that far. She was standing near the reception, with her back at one of those decorative pillars. 

Another man he didn’t recognise in front of her. Victor stopped dead in his tracks. It was obvious that MC was more than uncomfortable with this situation. She tried to get away from the man, only to get cornered again. This time at an indoor flower bed. As soon as the unknown man put his hands right and left of MC on the flower bed Victor saw red.

He didn’t see onlookers who were pointing in the direction of MC and whispering with each other. Many of them looked uneasy, not sure if or how to react/help the woman. He went straight towards the two people, no one trying to stop him.

Victor also missed the director who was on his way to help MC. He was waiting for a lift when he became aware of MC’s distress. Carol, the make-up artist, waiting with him, finally stopped the director. She whispered something to the director pointing to Victor with her head. The director looked over, recognising Victor, he relaxed. 

Within the film crew everyone knew that MC and Victor were seriously dating each other, so there would be no one more fitting to help her.

“Stop playing around! Let’s go to my room, I know you are willing! You’re not better than any other woman! No one can resist me!” Finally at the end of his patience Mr Ken was furious. How could this stupid woman be so stubborn? Not one woman on this planet could resist him. 

From the very beginning, this one rejecting him, made him want her even more. He thought of it as a kind of game she wanted to play. Never ever crossed his mind, that she was really not interested. Only using ‘the boyfriend’ as part of the game. Not that he cared if a woman he wanted was in a relationship or not.

“I said, NO! Leave me alone!” MC started to panic at the sight of this furious man in front of her. She shouted at him now, hoping that any of the other guests or hotel staff would interfere.

“I’m tired of your game. Come!” Mr Ken grabbed her arm. 

At this point a nervous hotel manager accompanied by two security guys made his way over. But Victor was closer. He stopped the man by grabbing the wrist of exactly the same hand which was dragging MC. 

“The lady said ‘No’.”

4 words and the world stopped. MC froze when she heard those four words, not because of the words themselves but of the voice. 

A steel cutting voice which shouldn’t be here. 

A cold voice which should be, with its owner, in Loveland City, ruling over the financial world, putting fear into competitors, or happiness in those who were lucky enough to be able to taste his cooking. 

She feared it was just her imagination that made her hear Victor. Victor, the one man she wished for to be by her side not only in this situation, but every day of her life.

“Listen pal, I’ve a little dispute with her. Nothing worthy for you to play knight in shining armor.” Mr Ken didn’t even try to hide his anger at Victor’s interference. When he turned to Victor, the latter finally recognized him. They had met a few times at some big events and Victor never thought highly of him. He put more force into his grip, at the end the actor had to loosen his grip on MC. As soon as she was free, Victor also let go.

In the meantime, the hotel security arrived at the scene.

“What is going on here?” demanded the manager to know.

“Mr Ken, here, is harassing my girlfriend.” Victor’s voice was a cold, sharp blade, his eyes could kill. The manager involuntarily gulped, despite knowing that the rage was not for him.

MC was no longer able to refuse the fact that it really was Victor by her side. 

“Victor…” She tried to get his attention, tugging at his sleeve. He merely turned his head around, coldness vanishing, turning into pure tenderness, then he plugged her hand from his sleeve. Weaving their fingers together he held her hand tightly, drawing small circles with his thumb before his attention turned back to those in front of them. This small gesture was everything she needed to feel reassured, everything was gonna be fine.

“I’m not *harassing* this woman. He is the one attacking me! I just wanted a bit more privacy to clear my dispute with her.” Mr Ken sprouted some kind of justification for his acts, rubbing the wrist Victor squeezed seconds ago. The way he was calling MC *this woman* plainly showed how low he was thinking of her, maybe of all women.

Agitating Victor even more. He made half a step towards the actor. The guards pulled back the actor allowing the hotel manager to approach Victor. 

“I’m truly sorry, Mr Victor, we let something like this happen. As you’re aware this is contradicting everything this hotel brand stands for. We will take care of this now. Rest assured he will never be allowed to stay in this house or any other. World wide.” Hearing the words, an even more furious Mr Ken started shouting, struggling to get free from the grip of the guards.

“HOW DARE YOU! THROWING ME OUT! YOU’LL REGRET THIS. I’LL RUIN EVERYTHING! JAMES, CALL MY LAWYERS!”

The bulky guards pulled the man towards the door, not paying any attention to his tantrum. When they arrived at the sidewalk they pushed him away from the building. Mr Ken felt on his knees now throwing insults towards them. Pedestrians stopped, gawking at what was happening, not a few of them recognizing the man on the floor. They pulled out their phones hoping to catch some good material of what seemed to be a scandal.

Inside, the manager was still apologizing towards Victor and MC, bowing several times and offering to fulfill any wish, on the house of course. 

“That won’t be necessary.” 

“Of course Sir. Still if you need any assistance, don’t hesitate.” In the end Victor ended the turmoil with only one sentence. The manager retreated, motioning his staff to stop gawking and return to work.

Victor turned around. Scrutinizing MC to make sure she was actually fine.

MC followed an impulse, throwing herself at him and kissing him right there.

~~~~

“What are you doing here?” MC opened the door to her room letting Victor in, eager to solve the mystery why Victor was not in Loveland.

“Isn’t it obvious? I cannot leave you alone for even a couple of days. You’re a trouble magnet.” Victor answered in his usual style.

“I’ve never told you.?” She was pretty sure she hadn’t slipped anything regarding the real trouble she had with this actor. Did anyone from her crew let Victor know? With furrowed brows she was thinking how he could have known.

“Dummy. Neither you nor anyone else had told me anything.” His tone was tender, yet she could tell he was angry at her for keeping it a secret. “How often do I have to tell you not to bare everything alone with me around?” He sighed, pulled her into his arms, caressing her back when she finally let loose all the pent up emotions.

“You were in Loveland.” Her rebuke was muffled by his shirt. 

Victor snorted, “As if a couple thousand kilometres are any obstacle.” 

She looked up to him, some remaining tear running down her cheek, but now she was smiling.

“They are not, obviously.”

~~~~

Enveloped in the familiar warmth and scent, MC slowly awoke next morning. Feeling his steady heartbeat against her back and his arms around her waist, her world had returned to peace. Suddenly a thought crossed her mind, jolting her awake. She reached for her phone to check the time only to be pulled back. 

“It’s not time to get up yet. No need to panic.” Victor’s low voice made her turn around.

“If that’s the case…” Gently kissing his Adam's apple and chin she made her way up to his lips. “Happy Birthday.” She murmured against his lips before she let herself be pulled into a long, tender kiss. Only to be interrupted by her ringing phone. Grumpy about it she checked the caller, “I’ve to take this.” 

An hour and some more calls later, MC turned to Victor, a huge smile on her face. 

“Looks like I’m free today! Do you have any plans?” 

Basically due to the commotion yesterday the contract with Mr Ken was cancelled. So MC didn’t have to show up on set since her presence was mostly bound to the aforementioned contract.

“I planned to do some work while waiting for you to finish your work.” He gestured towards his briefcase containing his notebook. “Nothing I’m not able to postpone for a bit longer.”

“Great! I’ll shower fast, then we can start exploring the city. I wasn’t able to do anything like that. Had hoped to go shopping a bit, heard the Ginza District is great for shopping… Ooh, I didn’t ask when are you flying back?” Pulling some clothes out of the closet MC babbled on, stopping at the bathroom door looking back to Victor who sat on a chair at the window, his phone in his hands, listening to her impromptu plans. He looked up “Tomorrow morning. Same as you.” 

“Eh?”

“There’s no need for you to stay any longer, or am I wrong?”

“Well, no…”

“So I asked Goldman to book you on the same flight. Just got the confirmation.”

“Even better. I’ll hurry!” With those words she vanished behind the door. 

When MC emerged again, Victor was still on his phone. 

“Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yup.”

“From my previous trips I know a good place for breakfast, why don’t we start there. Then you can drag me wherever you want.”

The small cafe Victor had in mind for their breakfast, was located at the outline of said Ginza District. They emptied their plates and finished the coffee, MC went for a pancake filled with fruits and chocolate, Victor omitted the chocolate,  when Victor wanted to know what MC had planned.

“Let’s just walk around for a while.” 

An answer which surprised him. During their drive here and also while eating, MC had been busy with her phone, so Victor thought she had picked places she wanted to go.

“I don’t mind, but don’t you want to see places?”

MC shook her head and smiled at him. 

“Not today.” Was everything she said on the matter.

~~~~

Hands entwined inside Victor’s coat pocket they slowly made their way through bustling streets with all sorts of shops and stalls. Once in a while they entered one, mostly because of MC seeing something cute. 

“Look, Victor isn’t this panda cute?” Currently she was holding a little porcelain figurine. “Don’t you think we have enough *cute* things catching dust, already?” He had to admit, the quality was good, but if they bought everything MC thought of as cute or adorable, even with LFG’s headquarters they would run out of space very soon. Reluctant, she put the little figurine back on its shelf.

A bit later they passed by a boutique selling all kinds of high quality clothes for women.

“Let’s go inside.” This time it was Victor who entered first. A middle aged woman came towards them. “How may I help you?” 

“I’d like to see this dress.” Victor pointed to one displayed in the store’s windows. He also gave MC’s size.

“One moment, please.” The clerk immediately went to get the dress.

“Victor?”

“Hm.”

“Shouldn’t it be me buying something for you, since it is your birthday?” MC questioned Victor like that.

“You said more than once, you want to make me happy. So if buying a nice dress makes me happy, doesn’t that suffice?” With slightly curved lips he gave her such an answer.

Unable to respond immediately, MC stared at Victor. 

The clerk returned. “I suppose, it is for this young lady? Please follow me, the dressing room is over there.”

MC followed her, puzzled about what Victor was planning. Just now there was such a glint in his eyes.

It didn’t take long for her to change. When MC exited the dressing room, Victor looked up from his phone and put it back into his pocket. She could feel his eyes traveling all over her, making her blush. He motioned her to turn around and so she did. As she faced him again, he made a very satisfied impression.

“Nice.” A typical Victor opinion. 

The clerk looked like she wanted to say something rather rude to Victor, but being long enough on the job she remained silent.

“What do you say?” Victor asked MC, moving slightly to the side so she could get a better view of herself in the mirror.

Rendered speechless, MC took her appearance in for quite a while. Turning left and right to see even the backside of the dress.

The dress Victor had picked was a purple one. It had wide straps over her shoulders, a deep cut neckline and a long narrow skirt ending short above her ankles. To make moving easy the skirt had a cut up to the thigh on its left side. Initially inside the dressing room MC had thought of the neckline being too much. But now, with Victor’s eyes on her she felt … sexy.

“It’s gorgeous, but I don’t know when I’m able to wear something like this.” Somehow it felt inappropriate to her wearing it for LFG’s annual gala dinner or any award ceremony.

Making eye contact through the mirror Victor simply said “Tonight, for dinner.” 

MC spun around but before she was able to say anything he added “I’ve made a reservation for six.”

She couldn’t help herself and started laughing. 

“Looks like this time it is you who surprises me over and over again.”

To the clerk she said “I’ll take it.” Then she went back into the dressing room to change back. Victor took a rather deep breath, keeping his cool while looking at her was anything but not easy.

At the end they bought not only the dress but a matching pair of high heels and a delicate necklace with a pendant which would have been a perfect addition to those earrings Victor once gave her. Making MC uneasy on how much he had spent on one day for her.

~~~~

Dressed up for their dinner date, MC furrowed her brows at Victor. 

“When did you get the suit?” She was pretty sure there wasn’t one when he arrived yesterday since he would never squeeze it into the small suitcase he came with.

“I bought it today, when you were busy trying on your dress.”

She looked at him with big eyes. “You didn’t try it on before buying.”

“Not necessary. The main store of one of my favorite tailor shops is actually in Tokyo. Loveland is just a branch. Since they are connected they have access to the measurements made in Loveland. I only had to tell them what I wanted and they delivered it to the hotel.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. Are you ready, we should leave soon.”

“One moment. There is something not right.” Saying that MC went to the closet and took out the small black bag Victor was told to bring over. He had handed it to MC last evening.

“Without this, your outfit is not complete. Happy Birthday, Victor!”

“After I was told not to peek I had an inkling.” He took the bag from MC and opened it. Inside was a black box with an inconspicuous logo of a famous Swiss watchmaker. Not one of those big ones, like Rolex. Rather a smaller manufacturer who was famous because they provided custom made models while still providing the high quality of Swiss’ watchmakers.

MC was nervously kneading her hands, watching Victor as he opened the box. 

The watch was silver with a black leather wristband. A rather slim bezel, delicate pointers and small numbers made the clock face the most dominant part. No date field or other gimmicks to avert the eye. 

Victor stared at it in awe. He was no expert, but somehow he knew what he was looking at.

No longer able to hold back, MC spoke up. 

“You like it? The clock face is made from a high resolution picture of Loveland’s night sky. Only visible exactly like this on midnight January 13th.” Confirming his suspicion.

It took him some more seconds before he averted his eyes to look at the girl, still nervously kneading her hands.

He cleared his throat twice, but even then his voice was hoarse. “You were right, any outfit is incomplete without this.” Everything else he could not put into words was clearly visible for her in his eyes. She exhaled in relief showing him her most beautiful smile.

“There is some more on the back.” It was actually unnecessary for her to say that. Victor already knew there was more, he felt it when he took out the watch to put it on.

At the end he pulled her into his arms. She could feel his heartbeat under her palm, not as slow and steady as usual.

“Thank you.” Was everything he said. Nothing more was necessary, she understood him fully.

The words engraved into the back plate:

For you, 

the most important person of my life, 

the owner of my heart.