#bubble tea near you

[georgez]

Find the Best Bubble Tea Near You Using These Tips

Editable Canva template Find the Best Bubble Tea Near You Using These Do you have a craving for bubble tea? Perhaps you’re on the hunt for new flavors to try, or you’re simply looking for the best bubble tea near you. Bubble tea has become a popular drink across the United States, with many shops and online platforms offering various flavors and options. In this section, we’ll guide you on how…

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

[zehrbear]

i think everyone has a horrible first boba order I don’t even remember mine but it tasted horrible

the choice of customizing your drink but at what cost 😓

[finelinevogue]

bump

summary - you don’t like people constantly touching your baby bump

word count - +1k

pairing - azriel x reader

✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨🌙💫🌟✨

The party was in full swing.

It had been 2 weeks since you’d announced to your close friends and family that you and Azriel were pregnant - after having 1 month living with the news just you two.

Somehow, Rhys had managed to plan and pull-off a party in that short space of time in order to celebrate your pregnancy.

It was relatively low-key, only people that were closest to you and your family having been invited - mainly because you didn’t want a huge thing made of it but also because Azriel was a mad-man at the moment and wouldn’t let anyone he didn’t trust with his life near you.

Azriel had been overprotective to say the least.

Just the other day you’d tried to reach for your favourite mug in a very accessible shelf above you, but Azriel saw what you were doing and instantly panicked - moving you gently out of the way and fetching it for you. To which he also proceeded in making you a tea as he didn’t want you anywhere near boiling water.

“I can make my own cup of tea, Az.” You sighed.

“I know you can, but I can also make one for you.” He replied. That was his usual reply nowadays.

“I’m not incapable you know?”

“I know. I just… I can–.”

“Yes I know you can, love, but I don’t need you to all the time, okay? I love that you want to take care of me, but I also don’t want to feel useless.”

“How could you be useless? You’re currently doing the most important thing that you could ever be doing.” Azriel placed a soft hand on your stomach.

But after shunning Azriel for being too overprotective, you sort of wish he would bring it back again in this moment.

This party was lovely, but it was also so overwhelming.

You didn’t realise how many people would be so interested in coming up to you and feeling your baby bump. Hands constantly touching you when they usually wouldn’t if you weren’t pregnant. It felt weird and uncomfortable.

“Y/N!” Layla called, walking up to you with a glass of bubbly in her hand.

“Layla, hi.” You smiled at your friend who had worked with you in the Velaris bakery for many years.

“I can’t believe you’re pregnant.” She gushed, giggling a bit with excitement.

��Really? With the amount Y/N and Az sneak around every moment they get, I thought it was about damn time.” Nesta came up alongside you, rolling her eyes as is her and Cassian don’t do the exact same thing.

“Well with a mate like Azriel, I don’t blame you.” Layla wiggled her eyebrows and you gave her a small smile - feeling a little insecure that someone as beautiful as Layla was gushing over your mate whilst you were starting to look like an inflated balloon.

You felt Nesta give you a side look before wandering off into the crowd, leaving you to once again speak to Layla alone.

“So how far along are you?” Layla asked.

It would have been fine if she just asked that, but she had to go and put her hand against your bump at the same time.

You were far too polite to say anything but you really didn’t like her hand on your stomach. Not just hers but also everyone else’s who’d decided to just touch you without asking first.

It was starting to feel invasive.

“About 12 weeks.” You gave her a small smile, stepping back slightly.

Unfortunately for you she just followed, adding her hand back.

“Wow so you didn’t have any symptoms for a while then?” She asked, cupping the roundness of your belly with her palm.

It didn’t feel as comforting as when Azriel touched you. Nothing ever would, but there was something so overstimulating about someone other than your mate just touching you before asking. It felt a little violating.

Before you could get emotional about it in front of a crowded room you excused yourself.

You hurried as fast as you could out of the nearest door and walked through the corridors of the House of Wind.

The tears had arrived as you were walking, your heart beating fast and hands shaking with nerves.

Was it rude to not let people touch your bump? You couldn’t help but think.

Yet, at the same time you would never just go up to a female and put your hands on her pregnant bump - even if it was Feyre - You respect their boundaries too much. So why did you feel like getting upset about this was silly?

Was it the hormones? Because they had been making you feel slightly crazy recently.

You made it to the kitchen without bumping in to anyone.

You braced your arms on the kitchen counter and sunk your chin to your chest, letting out small whimpers as the tears fell.

There was no need to jump from your skin when Azriel’s arms snaked around your waist to hug you because you’d felt his presence the moment he’d appeared in the room. His cheek was delicately placed on the back of your head to still allow you the time and space to be upset.

Some of his shadows were already snaking around your arms in support and stomach in protection.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked and you had to laugh at his tone.

“Ask me what you really want to ask, Az.” You lifted your chin up and tilted your head to the side to try and see him.

“I’m not sure asking you who I need to kill is the right thing to say when you’re crying.”

You chuckled, kissing the side of his face.

Azriel let you turn around in his hold, not letting your waist go for a moment though. Now his head was tilted down to face yours.

“Tell me.” He said softly.

Your smile broke as your lips wobbled, trying to focus on not crying and instead talk it through with your mate.

“I hate it.” Your voice wavered.

“Hate what? Who?”

“I hate purple touching my bump.”

“Okay.” Azriel said but didn’t add any thoughts for you. He wanted to hear you say everything on your mind first.

“N-not you. But, people have been touching my bump all day without asking and I hate it. I hate it so much, but I feel like a witch if I tell them to get off. Like it’s just my stomach at the end of the day..”

Azriel moved his hands quickly from your waist to cup your cheeks, stroking his thumb carefully over your cheeks. His touch immediately stopped you from talking.

“Woah, woah, woah. No. Don’t do that. Don’t try and talk yourself out of feeling the way you do. It’s your stomach, love. It’s your baby. No one should be doing anything you’re not comfortable with - ever.”

“No I know, but…”

“No buts. Y/N, love, if you feel uncomfortable then that’s the line I draw. The next person to touch your bump without asking is going to lose their hand.”

You give him a stoic look, but part of you was seriously wondering whether he was being truthful.

“Will you stay with me for the rest of the night?”

“Or how about we don’t go back at all.” He raised his eyebrows in suggestion at you.

“If you’re on the same wavelength as me then yes - please!”

“Perfect.” He kissed you softly, both your chests warming at the touch, “You get the ice-cream and I will get the blankets.”

[6okuto]

stop an angel from losing its wings

akaashi x gn!reader | fluff. Not that serious. about men cutting their hair

“do you think my hair’s getting too long?”

the knife in your hand stills halfway through a peach for your boyfriend.

keiji watches you, innocently, fiddling with the dark strands falling across his brow as your head snaps up, eyes locking onto the same bangs framing his face. “keiji akaashi, don’t you dare.”

“...what?”

“please, so help me god, if you cut your hair short i will cry.”

there’s a familiar click as the kettle turns itself off, hot water meant for his tea bubbling against glass.

“pft—”

“don’t laugh!”

“i’m not—” his chuckle is barely muffled by the hand over his mouth, and you gape.

the last time he cut his hair was maybe six months ago, and you’ve watched it slowly but surely reach a perfect length.

it lets you make little horns when you shampoo his hair as he holds you against him,

it looks stupidly good when he combs it back for special occasions,

it falls in his face just enough that it’s brought you the gift of keiji with his blue light glasses, cat slippers, and a little sprout ponytail on top of his head, tied with a little fruit hair tie, as he works away late into the night.

and he’s allowed to cut it. he is, but at the same time—

“this is serious! keiji, please- i’ll get on my knees and beg, look, please.” 

the apartment isn’t big; your spot in the kitchen is just a few meters away. it takes all but three seconds to leave the fruit you’ve cut for him and jog over with your arms wide open.

keiji holds his out to stop you. “what? no—”

“please, please, please, please, please,”—you dodge and slide to the floor, wrapping your arms around his legs—“please, my angel, my beautiful boyfriend, love of my life who i love so much, please—”

“i’m—” he snorts while you laugh between desperate pleas, muffled against the cotton of his pajamas, “i didn’t want to cut it, i was just wondering.”

and you sigh, loosen the grip around his pajamas, now slightly wrinkled. “oh thank god.”

keiji snickers and moves his hand to rest on your head. it travels down to hold your jaw, tilting your face to look at his. “is cutting my hair really that awful of an idea?”

you lean into his touch. “i mean, no, you look good no matter what. but they’re not joking when they say every time a boy with perfect hair cuts it too short an angel dies.”

he hums, his thumb rubbing against your cheek. “so are you the angel in this case?”

“am—” you almost parrot the question, caught in place by the amusement on his face. “shut up.”

“because if you’re the angel then i definitely can’t cut my hair.”

“oh my god.” the hair in question falls in front of his eyes again, and you take the opportunity to stand up while he fixes it. “whatever, i’m leaving, you nerd. go back to editing or whatever it is you do,” you huff with a smile and pinch to his cheek.

his soft laughter fills the room while you move to let him work, (swearing when you remember his tea you promised to make,)

but your leg is caught by one of his, and a hand is suddenly holding yours against his face.

keiji shoots you a smug smile, keeps you near just a little longer, just so he can say one more thing—

“okay, angel.”

forgot i wrote this months ago. hey

🏷️| @pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv-rose @ur-local-simp @xaaavi @respitable @hasti-666 @deepenthevoid

[bbokicidal]

Railway | SKZ [B.C.]

In which you decide to give your wonderful, deserving boyfriend a show in the bedroom - to his own solo song.

Genre: Suggestive (MDNI) Pairing: Bangchan x GN!Reader Just a Drabble, nothing too long.

Once a week the two of you delved into more.. exciting activities in the bedroom.

Usually there was at least one night a week of passionate, sweet, heart-melting lovemaking where Chris would let his body drape over yours. His fingers would intertwine with your own and you would become a puddle of adoration on the sheets beneath him, chest swirling with butterflies as if it were the first time the two of you were entangled in the sheets together.

Then there was one night where everything was less romantic and more... sleepy. Nights where Chris came home from the studio after midnight, crawling into bed and peppering kisses along your bare shoulder until either you stirred or turned to face him. He'd whisper soft wants of pleasure - maybe just to relieve his stress - and you, in a tired and mind-clouded haze, would smile and nod at the invite.

And then there were the nights like this. That one night a week, usually Friday evenings so you had all the time in the world as the weekend approached, where one of you would bring up an interest or an idea - maybe something you'd seen online or in a magazine - and try something new together.

Tonight's interest was stripteasing, lap dancing. The likes.

You'd brought it up - set it up, even - as a surprise for Chris the moment he walked in the door.

He'd unlocked the apartment door with a soft smile, just ready to see your face after the busy day he'd had - but he wasn't met with you coming up to him right away as you usually would. No, as the door opened he was met with the dim lighting of your shared space - tea candles lining the floor carefully and trailing down the hallway towards your bedroom. His curiosity is piqued, naturally.

Slowly lifting the all-too-heavy backpack off of his shoulders, Chris lets the bag slump to the floor just underneath where your jackets hung near the door. The bag thunks lightly on the floor with the weight of his laptop - and other studio belongings he needed to work on-the-go if need be.

"Baby?" Chris coos, voice lighter than normal. His head had cocked down towards his right shoulder in an attempt to see around the corner and into the hallway; To no avail, of course. He's met with more candles as he takes a few lingering steps forward into the home before he remembers he had to take off his shoes - and subsequently tumbles out of his sneakers. They're left in his hastening wake, the man's curiosity bubbling in his chest like a pot of water ready to boil over. Just what had you planned?

He hums out in admiration at the way the candles flicker against the deep cherry stained hardwood of the apartment. His eyes slowly lift from the fleeting flames as he hears a soft rustling coming from your shared bedroom. "Baby?" Chris coos once more in an attempt to retrieve a reply. Again, to no avail.

As he turns the corner into the doorway of your bedroom he's met with the sight of you facing the bed, dressed in a thin satin robe he'd gifted you for your one year anniversary almost.. a year ago, now. The bed is littered with rose petals colored a deep, dripping crimson that clashes too beautifully with the cream of your sheets.

"Hi, sweetheart." Your voice lulls on your tongue, the nickname dripping like the sweetest nectar from your lips as you turn to face him. You'd left the front of the robe open, black lace scouring your body and painting your skin in a way he'd deem was the most beautiful thing in the world - the tie hanging down by your sides and brushing over your thighs as you make your way to him. Chris meets you halfway before continuing to carefully step forward, guiding you back towards the bed. If he had it his way he would've laid you down and eaten you out right there, right then; But you'd caught him short and stopped at the edge of the bed, refusing to sit when his hands lightly tighten on your hips.

"All for me?" He questions, curiosity leaking through his tone. He was excited by the image in front of him and you could tell just from the way his voice lilted with a higher pitch than usual. "Baby, you're too good to me."

But you smile, a gentle laugh escaping your lips. Your hands find his arms, gently holding onto the muscle of his bicep as you turn your bodies around - and let him sit on the bed instead. "Of course this is all for you. But it's not just.. lingerie and sex tonight."

Chris' brow cocks. "No?"

"No." You reply, smile quirking at your lips. "I want to give you a little show." Reaching down and carefully bringing your hand back up from the sheets, Chris peeks down to watch as you offer the blindfold to him. He makes no move to take it, blinking down at the fabric slowly before letting his eyes come back to you.

"A... blindfold." He chuckles. "You want to blindfold me...? Isn't the point of me 'receiving a little show' that I get to see what's happening?" His hands fall to his thighs - and as he retracts them from your body you know it's his way of giving in. Telling you to do what you want to him for the time being. He was putty in your hands from this point on.

Your arms gently wind over your shoulders and Chris sits compliant. He waits patiently as you place the fabric over his eyes, only moving once he's sure it's in place and tied tight enough to keep from slipping. He blinks a few times, sighing out.

"I think it would be a bit fun if you just.. felt me first." You murmur - and Chris jolts a bit. He wasn't aware you were so close to him now, whispering right into his ear; Close enough that he could feel your breath fanning over his skin as you moved away, lower down his body. He sat still as he felt your lips slowly ghosting over his throat - down over his Adam's apple before disappearing from his space. And he chokes on a sound that tries to escape; Something so close to a whimper.

Tunnel vision got my eyes on you.

It's only a moment later that a melody rings out that he knows a little too well by this point. You'd connected your phone to his speakers in the room - His song coming out as sultry as ever from atop your dresser.

The perfect ambiance for the show you were about to give him.

And something just gets him knowing you're teasing him to the tune of his own music. A song he wrote, he sang, he produced. A song you wanted to fuck him to.

Chris' breath comes out in a shudder the moment he feels your hands back on him. His own had fallen near his hips, fingers curling tight into your bedsheets and blunt nails digging in as if he were going to rip holes in the fabric. And he just might. "Baby..."

A soft hush comes from where you are in front of him; Hands brushing down over his chest, the black fabric of his t-shirt separating you from being skin-to-skin. It almost makes him want to rip it off but he barely has time to even debate doing such a thing when your hands move lower.

Your lips reconnect with his skin. Kissing - sucking - biting. Spit clings to the warmth of his throat, the junction between his neck and shoulder free space to claim as your own. The muscle twitches under your lips before flexing as he gets use to the sensation - the heat of your tongue lathing over honey-kissed skin.

Baby, I feel our heartbeats

He can't ignore the way your hands brush down his body. Every touch is fleeting as if it will never be promised upon him again - A ghost of your palms raking down his chest, then his stomach. Dancing to his sides and just under the hem of his shirt as a subtle tease that makes his skin tingle and yet burn in your wake.

He feels your fingertips dip into the waistband of his jeans before coming closer to his front, tugging the denim away from his hips so the button slipped free of its restraint. He feels the zipper slowly being pulled down, the ache of his cock throbbing in his boxers already enough to make him a bit embarrassed. It isn't until he feels both of your hands kneading at the softness of his sides that he realizes you had pulled his fly down with your teeth.

Shaking, Trembling

"Fuck --" A sharp gasp darts from his lips. Again, his breathing shakes. His whole body wracks with a shiver, the sensation of your lips ghosting over his cock through his boxers enough to make him practically vibrate.

Chris lets his head lean back, shoulders dropping to slouch just a bit as his body begins to fully relax under your temptation. He lets his thighs part as he feels the gentle push of your palms on the inside of the heavy muscle, giving you room to kneel between them - beneath him. The warmth of your tongue dragging over his boxers to tease the tip of his cock once, then twice, makes a moan practically rip from his throat; Low, gravelly, craving. The words are connected with the slick of sin. "Oh my God, Baby.. ~"

Yeah, this train never sleeps

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

The Best Interruption.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here x

authors note - seems like the perfect idea to me so enjoy huns 💗

word count - 1k

in which, harrys been in his at home office for the majority of the day, and your little one is getting antsy after not spending time with there best friend, so when he’s typing away and answering emails, they stroll into the office, crawling onto his lap.

Harry sat at his home office desk, surrounded by a sea of papers and instruments. He'd been cooped up in there for most of the day, lost in the creative whirlwind of composing new music.

And it was now nearing two o clock.

With a cup of tea steaming gently beside him, Harry's fingers danced across the keyboard as he typed out an email to his manager, Jeff. Each keystroke was deliberate, each word carefully chosen to convey his vision for the upcoming project. He glanced out the window, watching the world go by outside, a brief distraction from the task at hand.

Lost in the melodies swirling around his mind, Harry remained unaware as the door to his home office cracked open ever so slightly. His focus was firmly fixed on the task at hand, oblivious to the world outside his creative bubble.

Unseen by her immersed father, his two-year-old daughter, her dummy nestled in her mouth and her favourite baby blanket trailing behind her, ventured into the room.

With careful steps, she approached his chair, her small fingers reaching out to touch the soft fabric of his joggers.

Quietly, she stood beside him, her eyes wide with curiosity as she watched him work. She held her bottle of warm milk tightly under her arm, her little face a picture of innocence and wonder.

Finally, as if sensing her presence, Harry's gaze flickered downward, and he found himself met with the sight of his daughter standing beside him.

With a chuckle, Harry glanced down at his daughter, her giggles filling the room like sweet music.

"What are y’doing in Daddy's office, you little minx?" he teased, his voice filled with affection.

Giggling even more, his daughter squirmed in his arms, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Daddy's office fun," she declared, her words slightly muffled by her dummy.

Harry smiled down at her, his heart swelling with love.

"Well, I suppose you're right about that," he admitted, gently adjusting her on his lap. "But s’nearly nap time f’little munchkins like you."

She pouted playfully, but Harry could see the telltale signs of tiredness in her drooping eyelids.

"Nooo, not bedtime," she protested weakly, her hand reaching up to play with the cross necklace around his neck.

Chuckling softly, Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest.

"Yes, bedtime, m’sunshine," he murmured, tucking her baby blanket around her. "But we can have some cuddles first, okay?"

Settling against him, his daughter nodded sleepily, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled into the warmth of his embrace. Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head, feeling her soft breaths against his skin.

"Where's Mama?" he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"In kitchen," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, a sleepy smile playing on her lips.

Harry chuckled, the sound filling the room with warmth.

"F’course she is," he said fondly. "She's always busy taking care of us, isn't she?"

As his daughter drifted off to sleep in his arms, Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of her peaceful face. Gently stroking her hair, he whispered, "Y’my little angel, you know that?"

She mumbled something incoherent in response, her thumb finding its way to her mouth as she snuggled closer to him.

Leaning back in his chair, Harry let out a contented sigh.

"You're right, sweetheart," he murmured, more to himself than to her. “S’is nice, just you and me."

She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open at the sound of his voice. With a sleepy nod, she spoke the words,

"Milky."

Harry's smile widened as he reached for her bottle, a warm sense of nostalgia washing over him.

"You want your bot-bot, huh?" he asked gently, his fingers wrapping around the familiar shape of the bottle.

His daughter nodded again, her eyes bright with anticipation as she watched him prepare her drink.

"Alright, m’sunshine," Harry said softly, lifting the bottle to her lips. "Here you go."

She grasped the bottle with both hands, her tiny fingers curling around it as she took small sips, her cheeks flushing with contentment.

Watching her drink, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how quickly she was growing up. It seemed like just yesterday she was a tiny bundle in his arms, completely dependent on him for everything.

Though his daughter was perfectly capable of holding it herself, he liked the feeling of being needed, of taking care of her like he did when she was a baby, so he helped her hold the bottle, and the notsalgia hit him like a train.

She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as she leaned into his touch.

"Tank ou, Daddy," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy.

Harry smiled, his heart swelling with love. "Anything f’you, m’sunshine," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Harry didn’t know how long it had been but it wasn’t long before his little mini-me was snoozing against his chest, soft snores falling from her mouth.

It must have been about another ten maybe fifteen minutes.

"Harry, have you seen—" your voice spoke as you entered the room, but he quickly put a finger to his lips, his expression a silent plea for silence.

"Shhh," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "Look."

Your eyes followed his gaze, and as you glanced down, you breath caught in your throat. There, fast asleep against Harry's chest, was your daughter, her dummy nestled in her mouth, an empty bottle of milk resting on his desk.

A smile spread across your face as you stepped closer, your heart swelling with love at the sight of your family.

"Oh, bubba," you whispered softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your daughter's face.

Harry smiled up at you, his eyes shining with pride and affection.

"I think she wanted t’help Daddy with his work," he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth.

Your daughter stirred slightly in her sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible as she snuggled closer to her father.

"Hey," you whispered, leaning in closer to your husband and pushing some hair out of his face, "I'm sorry if she interrupted your work."

Harry shook his head, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked, reaching out to stroke his daughter's cheek tenderly.

"She's the best interruption."

[earthchica]

Try Again

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: you making your ex-boyfriend, Terry, jealous at a party.

warning: explicit smut (18+), jealousy, breakup to makeup, made-up characters, use of the n-word, spanking kink, choking, unprotected rough sex, dirty talking, creampie, slight daddy kink, foreplay, pet names (baby girl, baby)

note: That's right back with another Terry fic. Oh...lord, this man got me😍....anyway...I hope y'all enjoy it. There might be some errors.

-

Your relationship with Terry started lowkey chill and then became deeper than love.

However, as time passed, it became increasingly clear that you two wanted different things, ultimately resulting in a breakup.

It's been a long and agonizing three months, and instead of feeling better, the ache in your heart has only got worse.

Your yearning for him consumed you. You missed his smile, tender kisses, his cooking, and, oh, his warm hugs.

You missed everything about him and always wondered if it was the right decision to end the relationship.

Neither of you genuinely fought to save it; you just gave up too quickly.

You sat by the window, sighing, while drinking a warm cup of tea to comfort yourself.

The melancholy melody of music played softly in the background, adding to the reflective atmosphere.

Your phone vibrated, and you quickly reached for it to see who it was.

The caller was Aria; she and her boyfriend, Lance, are mutual friends between you and Terry.

She texted to express how much she missed you and extended an invitation to her house party.

You texted her that you also missed her and had to think about coming to the party.

She sent multiple texts in response, pleading and desperately urging you to come.

You agreed to attend and couldn't resist texting to ask whether Terry would be there.

Of course, she responded with a simple "Yes," confirming your question.

Then, you inquired if he was bringing someone else, and she replied, "Not sure."

You hoped he wasn't because the idea of him being with another girl was something you couldn't handle.

-

When you arrived at Aria and Lance's house, the vibrant party sounds greeted you.

The music reverberated through the air, and the energetic movements of the guests on the dance floor painted a vibe.

You looked at yourself in front of a small mirror near the entrance, fixing the sexy freakum dress that accentuated your curves and your silk-pressed hair that cascaded down your shoulders.

You paused to take a deep breath before stepping into the big living room.

As you walked by, a few men cast admiring glances in your direction.

Your eyes landed on Aria, and with a rush of excitement, you made a beeline for her, enveloping her in a warm, tight hug.

It had been far too long since you last saw her. After the breakup with Terry, you distanced yourself away from your friend.

"Oh my god {….......} you look so good." She gracefully twirls you around, evoking hearty giggles as you playfully showcase your figure.

"Thank you. You look so good, too, girl. And are you glowing? I see someone getting some good dick, huh?" You asked, observing her, which elicited a giggle from her.

"You know it, boo! That man knows how to put it on me. Ugh, I miss this...I miss you...come on, let's talk," Aria states, taking hold of your arm.

As you and Aria chatted comfortably on the couch, enjoying a great time, you noticed Terry conversing with Lance and a few other guys.

You were about to avert your gaze when a young, petite woman with a caramel-brown complexion, and long, luscious 4A curls approached Terry.

You tried your best to read her lips, she gracefully asked Terry if he wanted to dance, and his friends encouraged him to dance with her.

The surge of jealousy bubbled up within you, causing a knot in the pit of your stomach.

Despite taking a deep breath and turning back to Aria who was rambling about something.

You couldn't resist looking back at them and locked eyes with Terry. averted your gaze, but from the corner of your eye.

You noticed him striding towards you, and a sense of panic grew.

Aria was quick to sense your unease. "You good, sis?" she asked, and you nodded.

You tried to ignore his approach, but you heard his sexy, deep voice, and you almost lost.

"Hey," he greeted with his charming smile. You couldn't fathom why he had abandoned the girl on the dance floor to approach you.

You just gave him a nod.

Aria left, giving you and Terry some privacy to talk, and went to Lance.

Terry's imposing figure loomed larger than you remembered, his taut muscles accentuated by the snug fit of his shirt.

Feeling uneasy and irritated, you averted your gaze, fixating on your hands instead of meeting his eyes.

"You ain't gonna say hi to me?" Terry leaned in with a mischievous grin, his teasing tone lacing the air as he settled next to you on the couch.

"Why should I?" you replied, looking everywhere but him. His pretty grayish-blue eyes were unwavering and completely focused on you.

He was wondering what was swirling around in that pretty little head of yours.

"What?" you asked, eyes finally meeting his with confusion and curiosity.

A smirk graced his lips before he began to speak.

"You look gorgeous," he said, his words dripping with insincerity, igniting anger within you.

How dare he come over here looking fine as hell, complimenting you, and shit.

When he was just dancing with another bitch?

"Terry, don’t. Why are you over here? Where's your little girlfriend?" you asked with slight irritation and bitterness.

Terry smirked again, about to say something, but his sentence was abruptly halted by the sudden approach of a tall, strikingly handsome, dark-skinned man.

"Hey," He greeted, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours as he introduced himself. 

"I’m Jackson. Sorry...to interrupt...are you two together?" he asked, his eyes filled with hope, silently pleading for my response to be a no.

You noticed Terry's annoyance with Jackson’s presence and couldn't help but devise a mischievous plan in your mind.

You responded, "No," with a playful smile before locking eyes with Terry, who wore a disapproving frown.

Jackson nodded with a charming grin and asked if you wanted to dance.

"I'd love to, Jackson," you replied with a smile, intertwining your fingers with his and strolling gracefully toward the dance floor.

You couldn't help but feel Terry's burning gaze boring into the back of your head.

The next song starts to play—it was Beyonce. Jackson pulls you close to him. Wrap your arms around his neck as you dance against each other, hips moving in sync.

As the music played loud in the background, Jackson leaned in and whispered a flirtatious remark into your ear.

You turned in Jackson's strong embrace, feeling the warmth of his body as your ass pressed firmly against his crotch.

You slung one arm around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Jackson's lips delicately grazed against your dark-brown skin.

You could tell that Terry noticed and was unable to handle that. He abruptly stood up, causing a few nearby to startle.

Terry strode purposefully toward the two of you, and the crowd instinctively parted as they saw the intense, angry expression etched on his face.

The tension was palpable as he came to a halt in front of both of you, emitting a low, menacing snarl as a warning to back off. Jackson swiftly positioned himself in front of you.

As he stood there, nearly matching Terry's height, the atmosphere grew tense, and it was unsettling to witness the fight between the two formidable men.

"Let's go," Terry says to you, reaching out to grab your arm, but Jackson intervenes and pushes him away before he can.

"Hold on, bruh," Jackson exclaimed, his voice irritated.

"She doesn't have to go anywhere with you. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Terry clenched his fists, ready to swing on bra. You quickly stepped between them to prevent the situation from escalating.

"Stop, let's go, Terry. Jackson...thank you for the dance," you said, gently guiding Terry into a secluded room.

-

Terry was pacing back and forth, struggling to calm down. You tried to capture his attention by repeatedly calling his name, but he ignored you.

"What the fuck is your problem?" you asked, annoyance evident in your tone. He immediately halted his pacing and fixed his gaze on you.

"What is my problem? No, what the fuck is your problem? Huh," Terry asked with his deep voice.

"Dancing with that muthafucka when I'm sitting right in front of you." He yelled, frustratingly pointing.

"First of all...The last time I checked, I was single and could dance with whoever the fuck. And second of all, why do you even fucking care, huh? Weren't you dancing with another bitch?" You pressed, crossing your arms tightly in front of your chest.

"I barely dance with the fucking girl, you went out of your way to grind and let the nigga kiss you on and shit just to get a reaction out of me."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of defeat, realizing he had figured you out. You shouldn't be surprised with his ex-marine ass.

"You know what...fuck you. I'm out of here, " You were about to walk away, but Terry firmly grasped your arm to prevent you from leaving.

"Nah...you ain't fucking running like you always do. We're going to talk," Terry's voice echoed through the room.

"There's nothing to talk about, Terry. Now let me go," You yelled, straining to break free from his grasp, but his strength was overpowering.

"Don't you get it? I can't; not again," He stated intensely, causing you to stop comprehending his intended message abruptly.

"I tried to move on, I tried to get you out of my fucking head, baby girl....but..." He began but paused to gather his thoughts.

"But what? Terry," you said, shifting your gaze back and forth between his eyes, feeling his tight grip on your arm gradually loosen.

"I still love you, and I want you back." Terry's eyes bore into yours, a complex blend of love and frustration evident in his gaze. You pressed your lips against his lips without a word.

"I still love you too, Terry. I miss you so damn much. I'm sorry" You said, pulling away from the intense, passionate kiss.

"I miss you too, baby. Let's get out of here...so we can properly talk." He said, taking your hand gently and guiding you out of the room.

The warmth of his touch sends a comforting sensation through your body.

You exchanged byes with Aria and Lance, noticing their happy, knowing look as you both left the party.

-

As you both arrived at his place, the atmosphere was charged with sexual tension.

You two were supposed to talk, but the words faded into the background as the air crackled with the electricity of desire, and want.

You both were kissing, tongues dancing with each other while practically ripping each other's clothes off.

Terry's hold was firm as he lifted you to the edge of the bed. His body shifts between your legs.

He tilts his head to kiss you once more, his caress exuding a bit of roughness and fervor.

Terry moves to begin kissing your neck while slowly grasping your plump breasts and squeezing them.

You loved the way his thickness was touching the inner of your thigh.

Terry flipped you swiftly on your stomach to get a better view of your ass. You gasped, felt the sting of a sudden slap to your ass.

You turned your head to look at him, and his face lit up with a wide, mischievous grin.

"You thought you were off the hook, huh?" He asked, waiting for an answer.

You were on the verge of speaking, but all that came out was a groan as he landed another stinging slap to your ass.

"Daddy!" You whined, looking back at him.

"No...I gotta give you a little punishment after that little stunt," He says, sliding the tip of his dick up and down the wet slit of your pussy to tease you.

"Daddy, please. I'm sorry it will never happen again...I promise," you cried desperately.

"You bet your ass it ain't. Cause all kill a muthafucka." He says, stopping for a second before giving you a few stinging slaps on your ass.

"You're mine, baby! No one else, you got that?" His deep, husky voice reverberated as he leaned in and softly whispered into your ear.

"I'm yours, Daddy. I'm all yours. Please," You agreed, looking into his eyes.

He smiled before kissing you and roughly thrusting his dick inside of you.

You both shared a moan; he let go of your neck to grab at your hips while you held onto the sheets for dear life while he began with a few slow thrusted.

Terry chucked at your speechless whines, practically begging him to go faster.

"Come on, baby girl. Use your words for me.” his deep voice teases as his hips continue their slow thrusts.

"Faster, please. N-Need you to go faster, Need you to fuck me like you miss this pussy," You huffed out the words finally.

You suddenly felt the touch of his hand on your back to arch a little before his thrust got quicker.

"I do miss this pussy, this sweet tight pussy. Like this, baby girl?" He asked in his deep, rumbling voice.

"Yes, daddy. Just like that…oh fuck" you nodded with a moan as the slapping sounds of skin on skin filled the room.

Fuck, you missed this; you missed his delicious dick, missed feeling every inch of his dick hitting your sweet spot.

Terry slapped your ass a few times before grabbing a hand full of it to thrust in a slight angle.

You look back at him with deep pleasure expressed on your face as you grasp his wrist to thrust into him, which he always used to like a lot.

"Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Swear this sweet pussy was only made for me." He grunts, giving your ass another slap before getting on the bed in the spoon position, with you slightly facing him.

Terry kisses you, continuing to thrust hard into you while holding your neck.

You cried muffledly into the kiss, feeling him slap your cunt before rubbing circles over your clit.

His thrusts grow sloppier, losing himself to the great pleasure he’s feeling.

Terry missed you, your eyes, your smile, and the intimate moment you two had.

"I fucking love you, girl. Gonna fill up this pretty pussy...would you like that, baby" He asked, looking into your eyes intensely.

"Yes...I want it; I want to feel it all, Daddy. Fill me up," you moaned with a nod.

Terry picked up the paces again, balls hit your cunt hard, which ultimately sends you over the edge.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck" You cried, orgasming so hard. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, climax rushed over your body with a jolt.

"Shhh...I got you, baby," He says, pulling out for a second to move you to ride him, thrusting back inside to catch his own release.

You managed to calm down a bit from your high and assist Terry in getting his release.

You bite your lip, matching the rhythm of his thrust. Your pussy slightly gripped him tightly like a glove, which drove him crazy.

"Fuck...baby girl...that's it....help your daddy....just like that," Terry grunts, eyes rolling in the back of his head while gripping your waist for dear life.

"Mmm...I'm the only one that makes you feel like this, right, Daddy" You asked, leveling yourself on his chest as you bounce on his dick faster.

"Fuck...yes baby....the only one...you're so good to me...fuck, I'm gonna...." He grunts, feeling him fill you up with the hot spurts of his cum.

His breath jerks and lifts you a little to pull out and watch his cum drip from your pussy.

"Didn't I tell you I was gonna fill you up, baby?" he asked weary, smugly, and you nodded in response.

After Terry cleaned you up, you were lying beside each other, staring into each other's eyes.

"Hey, I know we have a lot of shit to figure out, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make it work again," he said, caressing your face.

A warm smile spreads across your face; you love this man with every fiber of your being.

His ability to transition from a lustfully filthy tone to an irresistibly tender, gentle tone was incredible.

"Me too, Terry," you said, and he smiled, pulling you into a kiss filled with hope and love.

[citrustan]

dating girl (jjk)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you try to convince yourself that you're really okay with 'casually dating' your crush.

genre: college au, fwb kinda thing but more than friends ygm? angst!

"Are they allowed to cancel an entire day at college? That can't be good for anyone..." Your mother ponders out loud as you walk around the city hand-in-hand.

"There's not much you can do if someone decides to paint over every projector lens on campus." You nod.

"Lucky for me, I get to spend time with my little baby," she nuzzles her nose into your hair, squeezing you in a side-hug, "Still can't believe we have to schedule our hangouts now."

"Yeah, there's that..." You smile half-heartedly.

You stop near a flower stall, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city. It's especially crowded because of your university abruptly cancelling a bunch of classes.

After your day had freed up unexpectedly, you had invited your sorta but not really boyfriend, Jungkook, to go cafe hopping to find where all the good teas are because you knew he'd be available. But he never responded.

So your mood has been a bit damp all day.

You had just stepped out of this store that sold handmade sweaters and yarn balls. Not even a good shopping spree could lift your spirits.

What certainly doesn't help is randomly seeing said sorta but not really boyfriend who didn't respond to your texts out and about with some leggy blonde girl.

You've never seen her around.

Not that you know every single person on campus, but if they've crossed Jungkook's path, you know them.

They're dining together al fresco, at one of the cafes you had literally listed in your text to Jungkook.

Talk about a slap in your face.

For a second, you think she might just be his sister or something.

But that thought bubble is quickly shot at with a razor-sharp arrow when you see him kiss her knuckles.

Your eyes involuntary darken, and your mouth forms a pout. The kind one has when they're trying to hold back a cry or a sob.

All the while, your mother had talked about your grandparents' separation, the local diner having caught fire, and matching mother and daughter shoes she had bought for your birthday.

You were listening passively so you didn't quite catch everything.

When your mother notices the look on your face, she frowns, following the line of your vision.

Upon spotting Jungkook and mystery girl, she gasps angrily, "Oh, no, he sucks." She turns back to you, "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"No, mom, this is normal," you smile weakly, "And it's okay."

"You're still seeing him, aren't you?" She tilted her head in confusion.

"Yes." You nod, "I am."

"But then he's there," she points at the pair with her chin, "seeing her. How's that okay?"

"It just is, mom! Really," you attempt to convince your mother (and yourself) that you were 100% fine with witnessing Jungkook out with other women. "We're keeping things casual. Very... casual."

"And that's a mutual decision?" She confirms.

"We both agreed." You concur.

Your mother's still unsure about your choices. "Well. Okay then."

You glance at Jungkook and mystery girl one last time.

The picture isn't pretty. He's leaning into her ear and has his large hand placed over her bare thigh as she caressed his arm with her much smaller hand, thoroughly enjoying his attention.

Your mother watches your expression go stiff, "So, how does this work again?"

Snapping you out of your daze, she pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes.

"Oh. Um..." You exhale, "Well, we see each other and we see other people, and that's that. We're cas-" - "Yeah, casual, I heard." Your mother interrupts your blabber.

When you frown at her she sighs, "Sorry..."

"It's ok." You look down at your feet, kicking a few stray pebbles out of the way.

"I just--- I thought you guys were sleeping together." She blurts.

"Mom!" You exclaim, looking around to see if anyone had heard her, "It's not that big of a deal. I want this too. And I need to learn to date too."

Again, you try to ease your mind about your decision.

"So who else are you dating?" She asks pointedly.

This is suddenly getting very exhausting.

You lightly cringe and look around, "Uh... Nobody yet. But this guy from one of my extras--- his name's Hoseok but we call him Hobi, or Hoba, depending on how close you are to him--- anyway, he asked me out to a halloween theme party next week."

Your mother gives you a knowing look, deciding to play along anyway, "Oh! You've never mentioned him before."

"Mhm. Because it's new." You hunch your shoulders nervously.

The party was hosted by the student body to raise funds for, you don't know, collegiate stuff.

You had imagined going with Jungkook, with matching Dentist and Tooth Fairy couple costumes. But he hadn't asked you yet and you definitely weren't going to bring it up first.

It's less than a week away, so you're not expecting anything from him either. He probably already has another date lined up.

You wonder if it's the blonde he's with now.

Maybe you can do the look with Hoseok instead.

"So, are you gonna do it?"

"Do what?" Was she in your head?

"Go with Hobi or Hoba." She makes air quotations for 'Hobi or Hoba.'

"Oh, yeah. Yep. Definitely." Suddenly remembering, you add, "Oh and can you make me my costume? I want to be the Tooth Fairy?" You softly ask her, knowing it's a little last minute, but also knowing she wouldn't deny you.

"Why of course! Does... Hobi need a costume too?" She asks carefully.

"Oh, no. Probably not." Well, you don't know. You don't know if his offer even stands now and you might end up not going at all.

Your mother rubs your shoulder, "Ask him and let me know, 'kay?"

You force out an uncomfortable smile and nod, "Thanks."

Although your mother's not convinced, she decides to drop the topic all together.

"Well, that's good," she smiles down at you warmly, "Do you want to get that sweater exchanged?"

It was vague, but you appreciated her attempt either way.

"Mhm. Back to the store we go." You narrate with an airy laugh.

Your mother was in the lead, already making her way to the store you had just walked out of.

Once again, your gaze falls on Jungkook and his date, and to your surprise he was staring right back at you.

You want to give him a little smile. To show him you're unbothered. But you couldn't seem to force one out this time.

So you settle with giving him a small wave, which he returns, mirroring your expression.

His date follows his line of sight and spots you too, giving you a tight smile. It's not passive aggressive, just... decent. Not polite either. But why should she be?

Jungkook blinks at you as you hurriedly leave trying to keep up with your mother.

Maybe you should focus on Hoseok for now.

note: nobody asked for this but i was feeling a little silly :p needed some angsty ouchie with the possibility of a favourable conclusion so i indulged!

hey bonus points if you can tell what inspired this! and if you read all this lmk what you think regardless :D

[bunny-jpeg]

bubble tea and mocha coffee george russell serving blueberry bars and sticky toffee pudding please

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu, there is tons of items to choose from! i've even added new items recently so please, check it out! thank you to this lovely anon for sending this prompt, i have FINALLY gotten around to george russell (and i'm sorry)!! i hope you love this! thank you!

blueberry bars (“gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.”) + sticky toffee pudding ("the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant.") + bubble tea (daddy kink) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by george russell (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, daddy kink, wife!reader, pregnancy

this started because george saw you with some kids. it was a collaboration between a child's hospital and formula one. while the kids got to meet some of the drivers, the kids took a liking to you after the excitement of meeting an formula driver worn off.

throughout the event, you had at least two or three of the kids following you close behind. george thought it was so sweet. you did so well with them! george had a dumb smile on his face as he watched you interact with them, he stayed close to you. but by the end of the event, they were more interested in mrs. russell's ability to draw cows and cats than the famous driver.

made his heart skip a little bit. but, it stirred something else in him beside joy that you were having a good time. a deep urge to his beautiful wife pregnant with his child.

you should've known something was up when george's hand lingered on your back for a little bit. and that his thumb hooked into the waistband on your skirt from the back near the tag. he also kept you close to him and kissed your face every so often.

when you drove back to your hotel room for the weekend, his hand was on your thigh as he drove the rental car. occasionally his hand around dip between your legs for a brief moment that made you laugh.

"george!"

"sorry, i just can't help myself tonight. i've been thinking." he said as he kept his eyes on the road, "we've been married for a few years now, and maybe it was time we... had a baby."

you felt your cheeks heat up as you replied, "really? i mean, i know we talked about it a little. but, i was worried about your career. being away from us."

george held onto your knee and gave you a quick smile, "don't worry. i'm just worried we'll miss our chance to have a child, so if you're ready... then i'm ready."

in the hotel room, george unwrapped you like a present and you felt warm all over. his careful hands against you as he undid the zipper of your skirt while you got off your blouse.

you then in turn helped him get out of his slacks while he undid his shirt. you soon kissed, left in nothing but your underwear. you whimpered against the kiss when he got you onto your back.

“gonna make you a mamma and you're gonna make me a daddy.” he said, his voice turned you on. you loved your husband's voice, but this edge of a promise that he'd get you pregnant made something curl in your gut. it was erotic and made you rub your thighs together.

he took off your bra and got his face in between your breasts and kissed at them. you groaned and got your fingers into his hair

"you taste so good." he groaned, "knowing that you're mine. my beautiful wife. about to be the mother of my children." he rubbed himself up against you and groaned, "the only way this is ending tonight is you getting pregnant."

you chuckled, "someone wants to be a daddy, huh." you gripped onto his hair further as he continued to pepper kisses along your soft breasts.

he made a small noise, "i like when you call me that." he helped you get him out of his briefs. with his cock freed, he quickly got off your panties. he licked his lips at the sight of his wife's pretty pussy.

he was gentle as he got one of the hotel pillows under your hips, allowing him to have a bit of leverage to get you at the right angle. he licked his lips once more. he slowly sank into you, mindful of every movement you made or didn't make. when he hit all the way to the base, he felt comfortable in the knowledge that he was inside of you.

your pussy felt like a dream as he started to move his hips. those pretty eyes of his gazed your body. it was heated on you, he was hungry. he said, "i love you."

you held onto him, your prince charming of a husband, "i love you." and smiled at him. the smile dropped when you felt the twist of pleasure in your gut at his movements.

"you're beautiful under me." he said, "you are so beautiful." he leaned in to kiss you on the lips and neck. feeling you squirm a little bit at how ticklish it felt.

"please, george. you're going to make me explode."

he chuckled and moved you a little bit to get a better angle. your legs on either side of his waist as he moved against you. his thrusts against you were steady, he made sure to get as deep as he could go.

the heat between you two was felt all over. your core throbbed at the feeling of being close to you. while his cock was painfully big, it was a good size to get a little stretch and deep it in all the right places. you whimpered a little bit and he held onto you a little tighter.

his heart pitter-pattered in his chest as he moved. he loved the feeling of you around him, being so intimate with you. it was romantic, if in a hot kind of way. eventually he took your hands in his and he pinned them down onto the soft covers.

you tightened your legs around his waist as you tried to meet his pace. it slowly picked up and he felt the heat across his cheeks. the sight of you, from that pretty mole on your stomach, to the lust in your eyes to the way your breasts moved when he moved against you.

he said, "beautiful."

"stop!" you whined but george only pushed you further into the bed. his pace picked up a little bit. he knew you weren't telling him to stop the sex, only the soft compliments. he knew you had a hard time accepting them.

"never. not for my wife." he said as he kissed you once more.

your face wound up as you felt the urge to climax. you felt your heart heavy in your chest as george's cock hit all the right places. you came around his cock with your hands on his shoulders once more. your short nails dug into the muscle of his arm as you arched your back.

your orgasm made his heart skip as he continued to move. his pace was a little rougher, but the blissed out expression you carried made it hard for him to go slower. the sight of you underneath him was just too much for him. his beautiful wife.

with a few more heavy strokes, he pushed himself up inside of you and finished. he let out a shudder as he kept himself balls deep inside of you. he made sure every last drop stuck to the deepest parts of you. he slowed to a stop and took you in his arms. his cock slipped out of you and he curled up against you on his side.

he peppered your face with kisses, "thank you, thank you."

you wrapped your arms around him and tangled your legs up with his. you beamed at one another, it felt nice. being so close. you two would make a perfect little family.

-

"you come here, eleanor. come to daddy." george was currently sitting on the grass behind the house you both owned. in front of him was his young daugther. eleanor russell was a little over one now and had been teetering on the edge

while it wasn't the easiest arrangement, with george often away for racing. but, even if he could spend a day or two with you, he always came back home anyway he could to see his two favourite girls.

it was a running joke now that he was the ultimate girl's dad. if people thought verstappen's car yapping was a lot. it was paled in comparison to how george spoke about you and your daughter.

the toddler tried to get up on her chubby little legs, but before she could tip over. george reached out and grabbed her gently. he helped her back onto her bum and said softly, "we'll get there." he smiled.

you were out for the day with some friends, and while george anticipated your return. he enjoyed sitting in the backyard with his daughter.

he chuckled down at the little girl and asked, "how would you feel about a little brother? if you're anything like your mother, you'll be a real monster to him." he picked up the little girl and smiled at her, "i know she's raising you to be a stubborn little thing. don't let anyone tell you that stubborn isn't a bad thing. you have the heart of a driver and the soul of the most wonderful in the world." he kissed his daughter on her chubby little cheek.

she just giggled. <3

[cottonlemonade]

Practice Makes Perfect

“Alright, quick water break and then onto round two.”

You froze in the doorway of your apartment when you heard your boyfriend’s voice carry through the corridor from somewhere near your bedroom. His determined footsteps letting you know he was about to round the corner and your heart dropped when a second set of lighter steps seemed to follow him. You clutched your bubble tea and the strap of your bag, ready to run.

“Baby! You’re home early!”, Kotarou stopped in his tracks. He was only wearing sweatpants and… a … bra? Your bra to be exact.

Behind him peaked a head of fiery hair.

“Shoyo?”

“Hey, y/n-san!”, the red head called happily, offering a small wave.

“So uhm, Bo… and I mean this with every ounce of love. But are you cheating on me right now?”

Kotarou looked appalled at the thought. “What? No! NO! Of course not!” He hurried over to give you your Welcome Home kiss. You looked past his broad shoulders to Shoyo who gave you a thumbs up.

“So… care to explain?”

“Hm? Oh! Right! Well Sho has a date tonight and he wanted to practice getting a bra off.”

“First of all, scandalous.”, you teased, “But also, Shoyo, you hooked up before. Why the need for practice? And with one of my best bras no less.”, the last words you said a bit under your breath, letting the strap snap against your boyfriend’s shoulder. He only grinned apologetically.

“The girls that took him home so far all had sports bras.”, Kotarou explained with a shrug, “None had a clasp. But this girl’s a dog walker. So the possibility of a … not… sports bra(?) is very real.”

You nodded, taking a thoughtful sip of bubble tea, fishing out the one you had picked up for Bo and handed it to him, while considering Shoyo whose cheeks got more color by the minute.

Bo skipped to the kitchen to grab a metal straw, then joined you two again in the hallway with his own drink, slurping contently. He gave you a Thank You kiss on the cheek, then wrapped his arm around your chubby waist, facing his teammate as well.

“Did you two consider putting the bra on a pillow?”

“We did but that’s not quite the same.”, Kotarou said as if that was obvious, “And let me tell you, these things are a lot harder to put on than to take off.”

“Tell me about it.” Shoyo ruffled his hair and beamed.

“Well then, go practice some more, I guess, and I’ll get dinner ready.”

“Thank you, baby.” And with yet another kiss they went back to the task at hand.

a/n: Bo just can’t get enough of you so he has a lot of different kinds of kisses.

[icewindandboringhorror]

more photo diary posts.. various life images...

[dstryvampres]

Smoke Signals

Jonathan Crane x Reader

Summary: Dr Crane is tired of you talking back.

Warnings: smut, fingering, age gap(reader is early 20s, crane is mid 40s), power imbalance, brat taming(I think??), reader is a smoker, dub con, p in v, unprotected, praise, degradation, spanking, creampie

Word count: 2.2k

The trek to Dr Crane office on the fifth floor was quick and easy, seeing as there was no one else using the elevator because it was so late at night. When you push open the door to Dr Crane’s office it creaks, alerting him immediately to your presence.

“I thought I told you to quit smoking before you come to my office,” is what Dr Crane decides on greeting you with. His face is stern, pen in hand as he writes out a statement on a student’s quiz.

“Yeah, well I was fiending all day and they don’t let you have a smoke within 15 meters of the psychology testing centre. Hard to get a smoke break in,” You quip back, hanging your tote bag over the back of a chair before sliding between it and Dr Crane’s desk to sit.

“Well, if you won’t quit all together, you could at least have the common courtesy to not reek of it near me,” He scoffs, clicking his pen and setting it down on his desk.

You toy with the fabric of your sheer black tights as Dr Crane sets aside whatever he was working on before and brings out two sheets of paper. Two rubrics, one for him, which he settles in front of him, and one for you, which he flips towards you.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Dr Crane asks, standing up from his desk and heading towards the table near the window. He clicks on the kettle, staring at it for a couple seconds before he starts to hear it bubble up before he turns to you again.

“Just any tea is fine, except ginger, I want something herbal tonight,” you reply, rummaging through your tote bag looking for a pen to use for tonight.

“So herbal tea?” Jonathan asks, shaking his head at you in the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said,” you sit up straight once again when you find your pencil case, plopping it down on Dr Crane’s darkwood desk.

You hear a sigh from the professor as he turns around to look out the window at the rain, his fingers toying around with the packaging of a tea bag. No matter if Dr Crane happens to be your boss, you can’t deny that he’s insanely attractive. Young looking face with high cheekbones, blue eyes that stare holes into your being, dark brown hair that he somehow styles perfectly without trying that hard, all packaged in suits that do him far too many favours. Sure he has a slightly bitter attitude, but you’re no better. With all the times you snap back and push his buttons he’s far too patient with you, and seems to genuinely care about your well being. Whether that care is actually genuine or is just to avoid having to find another TA, you’re not one hundred percent sure.

A click comes from the kettle, and soon enough Dr Crane sets down a steaming mug in front of you before sliding into his own chair with a mug in his hand.

“Thank you,” you say, blowing on the steaming liquid in hopes to cool it down quicker.

“Don’t burn yourself.”

Dr Crane grabs his pen before directing both of your attention to the rubric and assignment guide. He drones on about the basics, word count, percentage to dock based off of just principle things, before delving into more important specifics to the assignment. For a supposed research essay, the need to include the students own fears into the mix was a weird choice to be a necessity. There’s no need to ask about it, the conditions for the assignment have already been set in stone, the due date is in about a week.

“Everything making sense?” Dr Crane asks, looking at you, eyebrows furrowed together.

You nod in response, reaching over to grab a highlighter from Dr Crane’s collection across the table. Maybe you should bring up the weird conditions of the assignment…

“Actually, just one thing confuses me about this assignment,” You start, looking for any signs of anger from Dr Crane, knowing just how often you seem to push his buttons before continuing, “why do the students need to disclose their own fears in this assignment, it’s supposed to be a research essay on different ways the brain copes with fear.”

Dr Crane clenches his jaw, looking away from you annoyed. Acting like you were questioning the fundamentals of grammar and not some strange one off point he decided to add to this assignment. He shakes his head, taking off his glasses and laying them down on the table.

“You’re not the one running the class, are you?” Dr Crane asks, voice showing just thin his patience has become in a matter of seconds.

“Well, obviously not, but I’m just-”

You’re cut off with the screeching of Dr Crane’s chair as he stands up, walking towards the door. Fuck, is he going to leave? Is he going to ask you to leave? Are you being fired out of one of the best looking jobs on your resume? When you hear the click of the lock on the door, you’re not sure if your fate is better or worse than any of the options thought of before. Nevertheless, your body tenses up and your head starts to fog up, whatever is going to happen you don’t think it will be too pleasant.

“You know what? I’m so sick of you always thinking you know better than me,” He slowly walks over to you as he speaks, shoes clicking on the linoleum floor of his office.

“I don’t think that,” you respond, voice strained. Now he’s standing over where you’re seated, forcing you to look upwards at him. You feel so small and powerless in this moment. Maybe, it’s only now and here, in this position, that you finally remember that this man holds your entire future as a psychologist in his hands.

“I want you to remember who has more leverage here, who can get you into the best jobs in the state,” it’s like he can read your mind.

You gulp and close your eyes. You’ve spent the last year and three months of your masters degree and time as a TA under Dr Crane pushing back against him, challenging the man. You’re sure that it’s here, in his locked office that he will give you a piece of his mind before dropping you completely. Leaving you and your master’s thesis to flounder in the last half of it, beg for anyone to aid you in the specific thesis everyone knew only Crane was suitable to supervise at this university. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Please, don’t drop me and my thesis. I won’t challenge you ever again, I’ll do anything you want, please,” you beg, opening your eyes to stare at Crane’s. Hoping the eye contact would connect with some deeper part of him, but his blue eyes stared back, cold and emotionless.

“Anything?” Crane asks, quirking an eyebrow at your begging.

“Yes, anything. I’ll get on my knees and beg you, I’ll mark every assignment myself-”

“Face the table and put your hands on top of it,” Crane demands.

“What?” Your mind short circuits at his request, not expecting something like that.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to challenge me ever again?” Dr Crane sighs, crossing his arms, waiting for you to obey.

You follow his request, placing both your hands on the table, looking down at the dark oak wood. It’s cold underneath your palms, but that doesn’t help with the sweat accumulating onto your palms. Dr Crane hums behind you, seemingly happy with your compliance to his request. He kicks your feet away from the desk, making your butt stick out more.

“Now, I want you to spread your legs for me,” Dr Crane puts a hand on your ass, squeezing the flesh. Your eyebrows furrow, taking a second too long for his liking and earning a slap to the ass, you quickly move to spread your legs.

“Good girl,” Dr Crane hums, massaging the spot where he hit you previously. You whine in response, feeling a heat start to grow in your cunt.

Dr Crane smacks your ass again, a little lighter than before, almost teasing. His other hand is placed on your ass, both hands move down to your thighs, then back up to your ass, this time sliding under your skirt and flipping it up. Your pink panties are visible through the sheer black tights causing Dr Crane to sigh out.

“You feel how hard I am, slut?” Dr Crane asks, you hear the smirk in his voice as he presses his hard-on into your ass. You moan, feeling the weight of it press into your wet cunt and soiled panties.

Quickly Dr Crane rips open the thin fabric of your tights, allowing for direct access to your panties and cunt. He feels your wet heat through your panties, quickly moving them to the side to expose your cunt. You moan as the cold air of his office hits your cunt.

“You’re so wet. Do you let all your professors fuck you? Or am I a sort of desprate case?” Dr Crane cooes, ghosting his fingers over your exposed cunt.

He runs his fingers up and down your cunt, collecting your wetness over them before pushing them inside of you. The intrusion is so unexpected it makes you gasp, pull away from it briefly. He fucks you with his fingers shallowly, at a bored pace. You push back onto his fingers, begging for more. Dr Crane removes his finger from your cunt, and you whine in response.

“Fuck, you’re a desperate whore huh?” Dr Crane laughs, giving your ass another harsh slap.

Behind you Dr Crane unzips his pants, freeing his cock. He lines it up with your hole and just stays there. No matter how much you try to push back and whine for him to put it in he isn’t moving.

“You’ve been such a bitch, I don’t think you deserve my cock. Why don’t you beg for it?” you can hear the cocky look on Dr Crane’s face just from his voice. Though it doesn’t seem to matter much as you open your mouth to beg.

“Please Dr Crane, I’ll be such a good girl. You can use me anytime and I’ll never be a bitch again, as long as I have your cock, please doctor please,” you plead, wiggling your hips.

“Good girl.”

Dr Crane pushes inside of you. His cock is average length, but stretches you out in a way no other man ever has. It makes your head spin as he spears you on his cock.

“Fuck, I didn’t expect a whore like you to be so tight,” Dr Crane pants out, putting both of his hands on your waist.

He pulls out of you slowly, before slamming back into your cunt. Setting a brutal pace as soon as he slams back into you a second time. Only faltering when he smacks your ass. You yelp out each time, before pushing back onto his cock. Dr Crane continually stretched you out and hit the most sensitive spots inside of you. Your legs start to shake half way through, the only thing stopping you from crumbling being Dr Crane’s cock and hands. He pushes you back on him each time, almost demanding you take him in further.

“You fuck me so good doctor,” you moan out, “Can I cum doctor?”

“Yeah, cum all over my cock dumb slut,” Dr Crane says, speeding up the pace.

One of his hands reaches down from your hips to your clit, rubbing fast and hard on it. A touch so hard and borderline painful on the sensitive bundle of nerves tips you over the edge in mere seconds. Your knees buckle. Stars flood your vision. Your boss fucking you through the whole thing.

You start to weep from overstimulation, tears welling in your eyes when you come back from your high. Dr Crane is still fucking you in the same brutal pace.

“Sluts like you don’t get breaks until I come too,” Dr Crane snarls out at you and your weeping, earning another sharp smack to your ass.

The tears spill out over your eyes as you cum again all over his cock. Your walls clenching and seizing around Dr Crane so hard his cock becomes painful as it pumps in and out of you.

He speeds up and his pace starts to become more aggressive, until Dr Crane stills inside of you. His cum rushes into your cunt, holding himself inside you after both of you have finally come down from your high. Once Dr Crane pulls out of you, you feel as his cum comes spilling out of your cunt.

“I’ll give you your share of the papers to mark next monday,” Dr Crane says, tucking his cock away and zipping up his pants. “I expect to not hear any confusion about the grading from you, I feel like I explained myself pretty well.

taglist: @paradiseprincesss @xanaxiii @luluartpop

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction - Mafia - He Makes You Flinch By Accident

Mafia!Skz X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: I hope this is okay! I did a little bit of both Flinching and scaring you as I wanted it to be different <3 

TW: Mentions of blood, violence, death and guns. Please don’t read if it triggers you, move onto another post I’d never want to put your mental wellbeing in danger &lt;3

CHAN: 0.8K

You knew what your boyfriend did for a living, you weren't an idiot, but you never expected him to bring his work home with him. It had been something he told you he never did, something he would never put you in danger of being near or even seeing. So imagine your surprise when you walk into his office to bring him some tea and see blood everywhere, all over the walls and floors making you whimper a little. You'd never seen so much blood in your life and you knew whoever it was it wasn't a good outcome for them. 

"If you even so much as glance in her direction again I will rip your eyes out of your head!" Chan's voice boomed before you dropped the tray onto the floor, watching as the cups shattered and boiling tea splashed up your legs but you didn't even feel it. Your eyes danced around the room to see one man dead on the floor while another was held back by Changbin - Chan's most loyal employee.

"Yn? What are you doing here?" Chan's voice was completely different than before, he was rough and hoarse before but now his voice was soft as he made his way over to you but you backed away from him your eyes widening when you saw the blood on his hands. He'd done this! He'd killed someone and was threatening to hurt someone else. 

"Baby girl...Please," He whispered attempting to get closer to you but you took off in a sprint, heading down the stairs and out of the front door. How could he do that to someone?! God, you couldn't get the image of the bloodstained floors or his hands out of your head as you got into your car and sped off.

You had no idea where you were going all you knew was that you needed to get out of there and fast before he could touch you, or come near you. Bile began to rise in your throat before you had to pull over and throw up in the street, whimpering as you saw flickers of Chan in your mind. You'd known of his life but he'd promised you he'd never killed someone who didn't deserve it, you clutched onto the door handle of your car doing your best to fight the images in your mind.

"If you even so much as glance in her direction again I will rip your eyes out of your head!"

The words danced around in your head as you stood in the cold air, letting out a breath and shivering as you began to finally feel again. The burns on your legs began to hurt and you got back into your car, it wouldn't be long until Chan found you and you knew that. You had guards that followed you everywhere you went and you knew you had a GPS tracker on your car and phone anyway...all of those things that had once made you feel protected now scared you.

"Baby, where have you been? I've been worried sick!" Your eyes shot over to the door of your motel room. You'd ditched your phone and car days ago in an attempt to stay hidden from Chan, just for a while so you could figure things out but clearly, it hadn't been enough.

"How did you know I was here?" You looked behind him to see Changbin and Jeongin waiting outside of the door holding one of your overnight bags, Chan had bought you some clothes since he figured you didn't have any,

"Baby, I know everyone. I would have found you sooner but the man who owns this place was uncooperative." He grumbled angrily to himself.

"Did you kill him too?!" You snapped exasperatedly, staring at him for any signs of blood on him.

"Baby-"

"You killed someone and why? Because they'd stared at someone?" Everything you'd been holding in was finally bubbling over as you stared at him,

"No, if you let me finish-"

"You told me you didn't kill anyone who didn't deserve it! All they did was stare at someone!" Chan blinked at you as he waited for you to finish yelling. Chan didn't let anyone yell at him except for you, you were the exception to every single rule that Chan had and he didn't seem to care that you were shouting at him either.

"Are you done?" He questioned calmly, as you let out a shaky breath and nodded at him.

"I killed those men because you were on their list." A frown embedded itself on your forehead.

"They were going to hurt you to get to me. I took them out before they had the chance." Guilt hit you like a ton of bricks, you'd been thinking terribly about Chan for days and all he had done was try to protect you.

"Channie..."

"We can talk at home, please...Please come home." He begged as you bit your lip, nodding and walking yourself into his open arms feeling at home as soon as he held you.

MINHO:0.8K

Minho had told you pretty early on what he did for a living, confiding in you that he didn't want there to be any secrets between the two of you and you'd agreed with him. You figured there was no use hiding anything from him anyway since he was in the mafia and could probably find out anything he wanted about you anyway. It hadn't taken long for the two of you to move in together, claiming it was for your safety but you knew it was because Minho couldn't stand to be away from you.

There were rules to you staying over with him though, you weren't allowed to go into his office when he was in there - not that you would anyway - and you weren't allowed to be around when business meetings were taking place. Everything you understood because he was doing it to keep you safe and you had to respect that and you never did it.

The only time you were ever in his office was when he wasn't in there and it was to do a quick dusting of the room and maybe a little light cleaning.

"Yn! I told you never to fucking come in here!" Minho screamed as he watched you pick up the pieces of broken glass from the floor. You'd accidentally knock a frame onto the floor when you were dusting sending Minho flying into action as he came into the room,

"You said when you were inside," You knew it was a bad idea to argue back with him but you knew you were right and he was wrong right now.

"You were playing somewhere you shouldn't have been!" Your whole body flinched as he screamed, your whole body burnt as you stared back at him. Minho had never scared you until this point and all because you'd broken a picture frame. 

"Am I a child?!" You yelled finally having enough of him screaming at you like you were some kind of a child, tears began to run down your face and instantly Minho realised he'd scared you. Worry flooded his body as he watched you drop the glass back onto the floor and his anger completely disappeared. He no longer cared about the frame that hid the codes to his safe and only cared that he seemed to have scared you.

"Baby-" He tried to soothe you but you snatched your arm away from his grasp and shook your head. There was no way you were going to fall back into his arms so easily.

"Don't! I'll see myself out," You mumbled walking out of the house as he yelled for you to come back to him.

You had nowhere to go, your old place was already being rented out to someone new and you had no cash or cards on you to get a place for the night so you were sleeping in your car. The seats were laid back and you were curled up into your jacket trying to warm yourself up even just a little. But it wasn't just the cold that was bothering you but every single noise outside that made your body tremble.

"It's just the wind," You mumbled to yourself as you tried to ignore the banging that was happening outside but that thought was pushed out when someone tapped on the window.

"I suggest you get out before I break the window." Your eyes glanced up to see a masked man staring at you, your whole body suddenly felt like it was on fire. You had no protection here, no guards and no Minho to keep you safe.

"P-Please...I don't have anything on me," You whimpered a little looking around the car for anything that you could possibly use to defend yourself but there was nothing.

"You have the car,"

"It's not mine, it belongs to my boyfriend." You rushed out, hoping that at the mention of someone else he would leave you alone.

"And where is he? He shouldn't leave such a beautiful girl out here all alone," The way he said it made your skin shiver as you bit down on your tongue.

"He's right here," Another voice said before the masked man's face collided with the window and his body slumped to the floor before a very angry-looking Minho stood there.

"What were you thinking?!" He panicked as you got out of the car and flung your arms around him, thankful for him coming to find you.

"I just needed space."

"You can have space at home where it's safe. You NEVER sleep in the streets," He whimpered, holding your face in his hand, his eyes filled with pain at the thought of losing you.

"Take me home..." You whispered, the two of you slipped back into the car as he watched you closely.

"I'm sorry for earlier." He told you softly, running his hand over yours as you began to drive into the roads.

"Please let's go home and forget today ever even happened," You begged, kissing his hand softly.

CHANGBIN: 0.9K

You'd heard horror stories everywhere you'd been today and each and every one of them was worst than the last making your stomach churn as you reached the home you shared with your boyfriend. It suddenly felt wrong to be going home to him when you'd heard everyone today bad mouthing him or telling you how much of a bad guy he was.

"Did you remember the piping bags? Felix has been yelling at me because I forgot them," Changbin chuckled as he turned to look at you, you stared at him. How could the man you'd been dating for the last six months, who was currently dressed in a thrilly pink apron be the monster that everyone was making him out to be.

"Did you kill someone last night?" The question had been running rapid in your mind all day and the smile on Changbin's face dropped.

"Who have you been talking to baby?"

"Don't!" You yelled, shaking your head at him. You weren't going to let him sweet talk his way out of this. How could you have been so stupid? He told you that he was some rich CEO but you knew it couldn't have been true after today. News of him killing someone was passed around as though it was the normal for him,

"Don't sit there and avoid the question!"

"Yes I killed him." He knew that there was going to be no way for him to talk to you about this calmly like he'd originally been planning. God, he should have come to you sooner but he'd been putting it off for months in hopes he'd get you to understand him if you fell for him first.

"Is it the first time you've killed someone?" Your voice shook as you stared at him and he sighed a little stepping toward you but you stepped back, holding your hand up as a sign for him not to come any closer to you.

"No. And it won't be the last." He answered coldly, making you shiver.

"You're disgusting!" You spat out, grabbing your bag and making your way to his door again, there was no way you could stand to look at him right now.

"You don't even know why I killed them!" He countered. He had his reasons, sure you might not agree with them but they were reasons. People who disrespected him, people who tried to overthrow him and people that had even tried to hurt you. All of them deserved to die because he'd never let anything happen to you or his empire he'd worked so hard for all of these years.

"You still killed someone! You think other people's lives mean that little so you can kill them?! You're sick!" The words were flying out of your mouth before you had a chance to process what you were saying to him. You couldn't see anything past the anger that you were feeling right in that moment.

"Yn!" Changbin pleaded as you reached your car, staring back at him and shaking your head. There was nothing he could say or do right now to change your mind.

"What? Are you going to kill me now?" The words were like a knife to the chest as Changbin stared at you,

"You think I'd do that?" His voice cracked as he watched you, waiting for you to say no and change your mind but you just opened your car door.

"I don't know what to think right now." The knife from before was now twisted and he suddenly felt sick at the thought of you not knowing if you could trust him or not and the thought of you thinking he would ever hurt you broke him to pieces. He watched in silence as you climbed into your car and drove off.

"Shall we follow her boss?" Felix quizzed but he bit his lip.

"Don't make it obvious...Just keep her safe." He loved you more than anything but right now he understood that you needed some space and time to yourself and he wasn't going to push you on that. 

It had been almost a month since you last saw Changbin and you regretted everything you'd said to him about not trusting him. Of course you knew he'd never hurt you but you were upset and hurt, hurt that he'd chosen to hide things from you and upset that he'd killed.

The more you researched him the more you found out about him and his crew. They'd worked from the ground up, focusing on giving to the poor as a way to help an underprivileged area in your city and from what you'd seen he only killed when needed.

"You wanted to see me," Changbin said as he slid into the seat in front of you. You'd asked Felix to arrange a meet up for the two of you, you knew Felix had been following you and you knew why after everything you'd read about them.

"I'm sorry," You stated, although you had nothing really to be sorry for. You'd acted out of fear and that was something you never should have to be sorry for.

"I know I can trust you...I was-"

"Scared?" Changbin finished, running his hand over yours, thankful to be able to touch you again; he'd been desperate to feel you near him again.

"Yeah.."

"Me too, it was why I never told you that side of my life." He admitted as you looked at him, studying him for a second before holding out your pinky for him.

"No more secrets." You whispered as he locked his pinky around yours and nodded in agreement with you.

HYUNJIN:0.7K

Walking through a darkened alley in the middle of the night after finishing a long shift probably wasn't the best ideas but it was a shortcut back home and you were going to take it. You'd taken it a million times before and you were sure you were going to take it a million times after,

"I don't like you walking home alone." Hyunjin's words replayed in your mind from the night before and you shook your head. The two of you had been together for almost a year now and he was protective over you and for good reason. He wasn't exactly the most liked man in the city and you were dating him which meant a lot of people weren't exactly fond of you.

You'd assured him that things were fine and you didn't need someone to watch over you all of the time but that didn't mean Hyunjin went along with it. He'd sent Chan - one of his most loyal men - to watch out for you without you knowing and every night he'd walk close behind you to make sure you got home without an issue. Only tonight he wasn't there and Hyunjin was taking his place instead.

"Hey pretty little, where you going in a hurry?" Anger boiled inside of Hyunjin as a drunken man slurred at you inside of the alley, swaying as he made his way over to you.

"Home." You answered bitterly, clutching onto your keys as you placed them between your knuckles ready for if he tried something you didn't want.

"You should come drink with me," You couldn't smell alcohol on him which was strange since he was acting drunk.

"no thanks, I think I'll just go home." You smiled warmly trying to play it off as nothing was wrong but before you could pass him he threw you against the wall. The cold metal of a knife against your throat as he stared at you,

"I want your keys, your purse and your phone." He growled out, your keys dropped to the floor as you did your best to shakingly get your bag off your shoulder. But before you could hand it to him he was on the floor after a loud banging sound making you scream.

You slowly sank to the ground watching as blood leaked from the mans head and you slowly looked up to see Hyunjin staring at you.

"You need protection." Was all he said as he held out his hand for you to take but you stared at it like it was a piece of rotten food he was trying to give to you.

"How...How did you know I was here? Did you set this up?"

"Yes, because I'm that vindictive." He grumbled sarcastically but you still didn't ake his hand.

"It's just like you to do something like this. Scare me into your open arms because you're pretending to be my white knight." Hyunjin narrowed his eyes at you.

"Why would I ever WILLINGLY put you in danger?" The more you thought about it the less likely you knew it would be the case but it didn't stop you from feeling sick.

"Chan is normally watching you but he's not tonight..." He admitted, this was either going to go terribly for him telling you the truth or you'd be thankful he was here.

"Chan?" You whispered, you'd met him a few times but you'd never seen him following you, you'd never even felt as though someone had been following you.

"I would never let you walk this alone and for this reason," He kicked the leg of your attacker and you slowly got up from the floor, biting your tongue as irritation grew inside of you.

"You had someone tailing me?" You knew it was probably the wrong thing to be mad about since he'd saved your life,

"Can you be mad at me when we get home? Right now I need to check you're okay." You stared at him and nodded,

"You're going to make it up to me." You warned him before he chuckled and nodded his head.

"I plan on it, princess." He whispered holding you tightly against his chest.

JISUNG: 0.6K

"You look breath taking tonight, doesn't she Dante?" Vivian quizzed her husband as he looked away from her and at you. His eyes scanned you once before nodding,

"She looks lovely." He stated before his eyes went back to her, you didn't take offence to it since you knew Dante only had eyes for her and you smiled at Vivian who appeared to be blushing under her husbands gaze.

"Where's Jisung? I thought for sure the two of you would be here together." Vivian stated as she looekd around the giant hall for your husband. Tonight was your anniversary and it was safe to say you were a litrle overwhelemed with how busy the party was and normally Jisung would be your anchor at this type of thing. 

You'd assume that after being married to someone within the mafia business for 5 years that you would be used to this types of parties and get togethers but you still found them incredibly anxiety inducing.

"I'll go and find him, go dance." You smirked knowing that Dante hated dancing but could never say no to his bride and you made your way through the crowd to find your husband.

"Excuse me," You whispered to a group of men that were lottering near a bar,

"Oh wow look at the ass on that." You heard someone utter as your whole body turned tense. The dress that you were wearing showed off every curviture of your body making you look snatched to the god's, you'd worn it so that your husband could oogle you all night long. Not some drunken stranger.

"What I'd give to fuck that ass." Another uttered before your whole body turned, anxiety melting away as anger replaced everything that you were feeling.

"How about you keep your disgusting, perverted thoughts to yourself?" You stared at him, hands on your hips. One of them stood up attempting to come closer to you but soon stopped,

"Are they bothering you, sweetheart?" Your body melted as you felt Jisung's hand on your hip and his eyes stared down the men that were drinking at his bar.

"Boss, we're sorry...We didn't know-"

"You should never speak to any woman like that, let alone my wife." He cut the men off and you had to bite back a smirk as you thought about it. 

"Appologise." Jisung ordered coldly before the two men that had said something both bowed deeply and apologised to you.

"All is forgiven, this is a party let's have fun." You smiled before turning to walk away with your husband but within seconds everything changed,

"I'd still fuck the shit out of her and leave her struggling to walk," It was someone else speaking this time and before you even had time to react Jisung was flying behind you and knocking the guy out cold.

"Anyone else?!" He growled out, turning to put his arm around you but you flinched and suddenly everything went cold and quiet. The music from the party faded into the background and Jisung stared at you in a panic, you'd never ever flinched around him before and it made him sick that you were doing it now.

"Baby...You know-"

"I-I know." You whispered looking at him. Jisung would never hit you, the only reason you'd flinched now was because he'd yelled but you stared at one another in silence.

"Let's go home." He whispered to you, holding you in his arms as you shook your head.

"We're hositng," You reminded him but right now the party was the last thing on his mind when he'd been the one to make you scared.

"There's booze and music, no one will even notice we're gone." He countered as he ushered you out of the venue and toward his car ready to make up for making you flinch tonight.

FELIX;0.8K

Your eyes danced across the pages of the book you were reading, so immersed by the writing that you'd barely even noticed someone sitting across from you inside of the coffee shop.

"Wow, it must be a good book." Was the only thing that pulled you from the pages as you looked up to see a stranger staring at you. He was tall, built well and looked as though he could be in the pages of a magazine but you weren't impressed by him. In fact, you were a little scared.

"I have someone I'm meeting," You told him plainly, looking around for any sign of Felix. If he came and saw some random man flirting with you it was safe to say it would end badly for the other guy.

"You've been waiting a while, how about I keep you company?" He suggested but you help up the book.

"This is the only company I need. I think you should leave." You needed him to go. You weren't scared of your boyfriend by any means but you knew what he was, everyone in the city knew what he was and it was going to be bad if he saw the scene unfolding right now.

"Come on now, a beautiful girl like you shouldn't have to wait this long for someone." Your eyes danced to the door as you noticed Changbin coming in, your boyfriend's most loyal man and your throat ran dry.

"Please...Just leave." You knew it wasn't going to be long until Felix came along but what you hadn't noticed was that he was already behind you, smirking a little. It had been a while since he'd had someone challenge him and seeing another guy with you was driving him wild.

"You heard the girl, leave." Your body was tense as you stared at the man in front of you.

"And you are?" He studied Felix, the only explanation as to why he was so calm around your boyfriend was that he had to be new in town. There was no way someone who'd lived in this city their whole lives didn't know who Felix was and what he was capable of.

"The man that could end your life in about two seconds. Leave." Felix smirked, waiting to see if the man would react or not. It had been a long morning and he was already late to his date with you so seeing someone flirting with you pushed him over the cliff edge he was already hanging from.

"You really want to be with him? He sounds controlling." Your heart thumped rapidly against your ribs as you shook your head,

"Don't-" Before you could finish what you were about to say Changbin had thrown the guy from his seat and onto the floor, no one around you reacted.

"Felix! He doesn't know you! Stop!" You begged as your boyfriend threw his fist into the guy's face, your eyes staring at him in a panic. 

"Lix!" You screamed but he didn't stop, it was as though he'd drowned out everything around him but you couldn't stand this side of him. Without another word you grabbed your things and ran from the coffee shop, sprinting as far and as fast as you could.

When Felix finally let the guy go - alive - he'd turned around expecting to see you waiting for him with open arms but you were gone and that was over a week ago. Since then he hadn't been able to find you and none of your friends were willing to exchange information for you. 

"Yn?" Your eyes shot to see Felix standing inside of your favourite book store, he hadn't even been looking for you today.

"I-"

"I'm sorry." The words cut yours off as you stared at him. The reason you'd ran away that day wasn't because he was beating on someone, you'd seen that before but he hadn't even heard you begging for him to stop. Your whole body flew into fight or flight and you'd ran before thinking anything through.

The week apart had given you time to think on things and you realised you loved him but you weren't sure you could be with him if he did anything like that again.

"I never meant to scare you, you know I'd never do anything to hurt you." He ran his hand over your cheek and he sighed a little, the moment he'd pulled away from the guy he knew he'd fucked up.

"I know Lix but you...you didn't even hear me when I begged you to stop. You scared me." He nods,

"I'll get help, I will NEVER let myself do that again," Your eyes searched his face, you knew you could trust him and you knew he'd never hurt you but you were still scared.

"Okay...But I want to see improvement. Don't just say you'll change and don't." You warned him, watching as he put his hand on his heart and promised you.

SEUNGMIN:0.8K

You knew a lot of things about Seungmin and his lifestyle but you didn't know everything there was about it. He'd told you that he worked for bad people but that was so far from the truth, in fact, he was the bad people - or rather, person. The only reason he hadn't told you was because he hadn't want to scare you, he knew it was wrong to hide things but he would somehow tell you eventually. 

"Are you sure? Because I was positive I locked it this morning." Your eyes shot to the door that you'd walked in through and you bit down on your lip. You were doing a little cleaning around your boyfriends home since you were bored and waiting for him and you'd stumbled inside.

"Boss, it's been open for a while now. Someone must have gained access." Boss? You shuffled your way to the door to announce that you were inside of the room when your foot hit a loose floorboard and the bookcase behind the giant desk opened.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, it was wrong to snoop. It was even more wrong to snoop when you knew Seungmin was outside of the room but your feet were moving before you had a chance to stop them and you were inside of the room. Your eyes danced around everything inside and you felt your stomach drop.

The walls were lined with all kinds of different weapons making your skin crawl as you looked at everything. Guns were everywhere, then there were the different kinds of knifes and god knows what else inside of there.

"Yn?" Seungmin's voice barely came out as a whisper as he holstered his gun away and walked over to you, his hand gently touching your shoulder but you moved away from him. What was this? He told you he worked for bad people, he never told you he bought the stuff home with here.

"What are you doing in here?" You remained silent as you turned to face your boyfriend, he looked panicked but you didn't care about that right now. All you cared about was getting out of here without getting hurt, you knew deep down that Seungmin would never hurt you but right now that was being muffled by the violence inside of the room.

"You were never meant to see any of this," His voice cracked as he followed you out of the room and into the hallway of his home. 

"So you were going to keep it a secret forever?" You were hurt that he felt as though he had to hide anything from you, if he'd been honest from the start maybe you wouldn't have cared as much but right now it felt like a punch in the gut.

"No...Just until I figured out how to tell you." You scoffed at him, shaking your head as you looked at him, your heart racing as you stared at him.

"Easy. You tell me. It's not that hard. Did you not trust me?" Your heart was breaking minute by minute. The more you thought about it, it seemed to be the only reason he would keep something like this from you.

"Of course I did."

"So then why hide it?" You stared at him, folding your arms across your chest as you waited for him to say something to you but the minutes ticked by and nothing came from him.

"Goodbye...Seungmin." You whispered as you made your way toward the staircase, your hand barely touched the bannister before words flew from his lips.

"I was scared I'd scare you away." It was hard for him to admit that he was scared of anything so to hear the words leave his lips it shocked him and you. 

"You scared me more by hiding it from me. T-That room-" Tears welled up on your eyes as you thought about everything you'd seen in there, everything in that room was made for killing and had probably killed before.

"You'll never have to see again, I'm moving my office so it'll be nowhere near you, you'll never have to stumble across any of it." He promised, his hands holding yours as you stared at him through your tears.

"Please...D-Don't go, I messed up but I can fix this. I have to fix this." He pleaded with you, looking you in your eyes as you bit down on your tongue. All rational thoughts out of the window as you stared at the man you loved, nothing had changed...He was still the Seungmin you knew but with a darker background.

"I'll never have to see any of that again?" You questioned, your eyes going back to the office door.

"I promise." He stood in front of your field of vision and you nodded a little.

"O-okay." You whispered as he escorted you down the stairs, ordering someone to start clearing the room as fast as possible.

JEONGIN: 0.6K

The house was like a maze and it didn't matter how many times you'd stayed over you still managed to get lost whenever you'd go down to the kitchen for a drink in the middle of the night. Tonight was no different.

You'd been walking in the kitchen when you'd accidentally knocked over a vase and were in the process of cleaning it up when you felt someone's presence behind you. You assumed it was your boyfriend who'd woken up when you weren't in bed.

"Innie?" You whispered, hoping it was him and not one of the maids who would no doubt be pissed at you for breaking one of the vases in the home. A sound in the air made you frown, it was a click but not a door closing or a camera shutting it was a different kind of click, metal and you'd never heard it before. Slowly you inched around to see Jeongin aiming a gun in your direction, your heart practically jumped into your throat and you dropped the dustpan and brush.

"Innie! It's me!" You yelled out, whimpering out as he continued to point the gun in your direction. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" The safety was placed back on the gun as he slid it onto the kitchen side staring at you. He'd blacked out in bed hardly remembering the night before. 

"You invited me...R-Remember?" You'd gone to bed without him since he told you to come and stay over so you could be together in the morning. You couldn't help the stutter and shake in your voice as you stood staring at your boyfriend with so many questions in your head. The first one is, where the fuck did he get a gun?

"Shit...Baby-" He tried to say sorry but you weren't about to gloss over very important information. 

"Where did you get the gun? Why do you even have it?" Your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. Jeongin didn't hide things from you with mean intent but he wasn't open about what he did for a living as it always came with mixed reactions.

For once he found someone who didn't just want to use him for who he was in the world, you wanted to be with him because you liked him for him, not the world he came from or the things that he could do for you.

"There's things you don't know about me..." He said slowly, taking your hand and leading you to the living room away from the broken glass that scattered along the floor.

"Then tell me," You didn't mean to sound as though you were begging but if it was the only way that you were going to get answers then so be it.

As soon as everything was out in the open Jeongin expected you to run for the hills screaming bloody murder but you didn't. You'd sat there and listened to everything he had to say and took on board why he hadn't told you in the first place.

"So do you have guards everywhere you go, for protection?" You quizzed, your legs were draped over his as you both cuddled on the sofa with a warm drink. It had been a long night of questions and answers but Jeongin was more than happy to answer everything you wanted to know.

"Yeah, so do you by the way. The moment you started dating me, you were put under my protection."

"So I have men following me around?" You laughed a little, they must have been really good at their jobs because you'd never seen a single person that could have been following you.

"Is that okay?" Jeongin must have realised it would have been weird for someone who wasn't used to it but you smiled and nodded.

"It's fine, a little strange but I feel safe." You whispered, laying your head on his shoulder as he cuddled you closer to him.

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[another-lost-mc]

Diavolo's shower card artwork missed out on an awesome opportunity to insert Barbatos in the background somewhere. A shot of his back while he folds freshly-laundered towels, a blurry glimpse of his forked tail while the rest of him is out of view, or perhaps his hand holding the shower head for Diavolo and rinsing the shampoo from his hair like he used to.

Every once in a while, Barbatos gets nostalgic thinking about the days when the Young Master's tub was filled with toys and bits of magic that made the water shimmer and sparkle. The prince giggled excitedly every time he managed to splash his unsuspecting butler with a bit of water which Barbatos rewarded by scooping handfuls of bubbles onto his head and calling it a crown.

Now when it's time for his daily bath, Diavolo relaxes in solitude after Barbatos runs the water to the prince's preferred temperature, sets up the bath tray with tonight's choice of book and a warm cup of tea (or perhaps Demonus, if it was a particularly trying day), and leaves a fluffy towel on a stool nearby before he leaves the room and shuts the door quietly behind him (but never wandering too far, always near in case his master should need him).

But every once in a while, Barbatos finds more reasons to hover and help the prince with his routine. He always wants to help and feel wanted by the now-grown demon that's the closest thing to his own offspring he may ever have.

Diavolo: "You know I'm old enough to do this by myself now."

Barbatos: "Humor an old demon and tilt your head back before the soap runs into your eyes."

[nemo-writes]

⋆˚࿔ ⋆˚࿔ 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐞 ; 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝜗𝜚˚⋆

↣ pack!tf141 x witch!reader

↣ chapter summary; after a tense confrontation with laswell, you find comfort and support in alejandro and rudy. but just as you're beginning to regain your footing, an unexpected call pulls you back into the fray.

⚠️ warnings; slightly graphic content, body horror

★ previous ; next

☆ story masterlist

Entering through the back door, you find Laswell already settled in the quiet of the bar, humming softly to a tune playing low over the speakers. She’s at ease, arranging bottles and tallying inventory, a steaming cup of tea beside her. The smell of fresh herbs mingles with the earthy scent of aged wood, creating a warmth that would normally be comforting. But today, it feels stifling. It’s strange to see her so relaxed, not even glancing up as you approach.

Finally, she looks up, her face softening with a small but welcoming smile. “Early morning for you too, I see,” she says, taking a sip of tea. “Couldn’t sleep, I take it?”

“Not quite,” you manage, biting back the surge of emotions. You clear your throat, shifting your weight, the ache in your injured ankle sharp and relentless, yet she seemed oblivious to your state.

“Is everything alright?” she asks, her tone too polite, too casual. “I was just going over inventory—didn’t expect any company.”

The sheer calmness in her voice, the way she doesn’t mention last night's missed call or notice the obvious signs of wear and urgency, makes your stomach churn with a dawning realization.

“Laswell, I’m here because something’s wrong. Deeply wrong,” you begin, pushing down the frustration building inside. “I have confirmed it—here, look,” you take out the nail and unwrap it, carefully keeping the cloth between it and your skin.

She barely glances at it, lifting her cup again. “It’s just a nail,” she says, a hint of bemusement in her tone. “Really, you’re letting your mind run away with whatever this is.”

You feel your chest tighten as you feel your face flush with a mix of indignation and flaring anger. "Laswell, I found this embedded in my floor—right where Ghost scratched it, again and again, after he attacked us. He nearly tore the place apart, and Sybil… she was badly hurt. Whatever this is, it's powerful. It's gotten into him, into all of them!"

You’re practically pleading now, voice rising, words tumbling over each other in near hysteria. "S-someone is using Leah as a conduit. It’s a manipulation curse, this isn't some baseless paranoia—it's real, and it's tearing us apart from the inside out!"

Still, she doesn’t respond with the urgency you need. Instead, she watches you with that frustratingly calm demeanour.

Laswell sighs, setting her cup down as though indulging you. “You’ve always been dramatic, but this is getting excessive. Think about it: a nail?” She offers a patronising half-smile. “It’s unlike you, letting yourself be so easily swept away.”

Her words are like a slap. You feel the fury finally bubbling over, mixed with disbelief. “I’m not imagining things. I need you to see it for what it is—”

But she only raises her hand, dismissing you with a calm indifference. “Enough, really. There’s no curse here, no manipulative power. Just a town, a pack, and emotions running high. Take a few days, step back, and you’ll see it, too.”

Your hands tremble as you clutch the cursed nail. The way she brushes off your concerns, the lack of urgency despite everything you’ve told her—it’s too much to bear. Without another word, you turn on your heel, seething, but not before leaving him with some scalding last words.

“This town, these people—you’re supposed to protect them,” you say, your voice sharp and bitter. “What good is all that power if you’re blind to everything that’s rotting under your own roof?” The words hang in the air, and before she can respond, you storm out, the cursed nail still in your grip, its weight like a reminder of everything gone wrong.

. . .

Outside, the cold air hits you, but it does nothing to cool your anger. Just as you take a shaky breath, a car pulls up with a shrill just a few steps ahead, and your heart jumps. Then, you spot Alejandro and Rudy inside, their expressions shadowed with something. Instinct flares, and you stiffen, suspicious and guarded. You take a step back, but Alejandro calls out to you.

“Preciosa (Precious/Darling) get in,” Alejandro urges, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. “We need to talk.”

You hesitate by the curb, your instincts still buzzing from your one-sided confrontation with Laswell. Alejandro’s face is unreadable, but Rudy leans over from the passenger seat, his eyes searching yours with concern.

“We know about the attack,” he says, his tone low, though you sense his anger just beneath the surface. “Alejandro and I found Ghost earlier today. He was…covered in blood. Your blood.”

After a breathless pause, you nod and climb into the back seat. The door shuts with a thump, and Alejandro swiftly pulls away from the curb, guiding the car back into the street. 

“We saw the state of your place. And also we found Sybil.” Alejandro's gaze meets yours through the rearview mirror, his usual hard expression softening. “She told me everything.”

A wave of relief washes over you. They know—they understand. You’re no longer alone in this nightmare, and the realisation loosens something inside you. The strength you’d clung to so desperately wavers, and for a moment, you almost break.

“I see,” you manage, voice thick with the strain of it all.

Rudy reaches over from the driver’s seat, his brow furrowing as he gives you a careful once-over, spotting your wrapped ankle right away. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks quietly, reaching out to lift your wrist and gently turn your arm, checking for bruises or scrapes that might’ve been missed. His fingers hover over your shoulder, where you wince, and he draws his hand back slightly, though his concern is palpable.

Alejandro peeks at you from over his shoulder. “You look like you haven’t slept in days,” he says before looking back at the road, voice steady but laced with concern. “Let's just head back to your shop. We’ll talk there.”

His words are firm, leaving no room for argument. Beside him, Rudy nods, his hand still resting on yours as if grounding you. “You’re not doing this alone,” he adds, gentle but insistent.

Seeing them both so attuned to the toll this has taken on you, the comfort of their presence chips away at the wall you’ve held up, giving you space to breathe—if only for a moment.

The drive back  is spent in tense conversation as you bring them up to speed, laying out everything—the cursed nail, Leah’s manipulation, and your suspicions about the pack’s infection. Rudy listens intently from the passenger seat, brows drawn with a mix of disbelief and concern. Alejandro nods along, his jaw tight, gripping the steering wheel as you delve into the twisted details.

When you arrive at the shop, they immediately set to work. Alejandro rolls up his sleeves and begins putting everything Ghost toppled back into place, lifting shelves and setting furniture upright. Meanwhile, Rudy moves closer to inspect your injuries. Despite your insistence that they’re fine, he gently checks over your bandages, his expression softened with a mix of care and worry.

Alejandro pauses, dusting his hands off. “We shouldn’t stay for too long,” he says, voice low, as if half-worried the town itself might hear. “If the pack’s fallen under whatever's hanging over Leah’s, then it’s only a matter of time before it tries to spread. Whatever’s protecting us might not hold up if we stay around.”

A lump forms in your throat at the thought of being left alone again, but he doesn’t give you time to dwell on it. “Look, we can help in one more way,” he adds. “Let us take that nail, and we’ll get it checked out. We know people—ones who are good at tracking this sort of thing.”

You hesitate for a moment but know he’s right. Their network is solid, and they might be your best shot at uncovering the root of this twisted curse. Finally, you nod.

Rudy and Alejandro then continue to finish helping to restore some semblance of order to the wrecked shop. Only when the last of the glass is swept away and the floor looks almost recognizable do they finally step back, taking a moment to exchange glances. They’re still worried, you can tell, but the relief in their eyes says they can see you’re calmer now—more prepared to handle what’s to come.

Alejandro puts a hand on your shoulder, swiping some hair away from your face, his voice steady. “Remember, we’re a call away. And say goodbye to Sybil for us, yeah?”

Rudy nods, adding, “Yeah, tell her to stay safe. Both of you.”

You give them both a small smile, touched by their concern. They head for the door, casting one last, reassuring look over their shoulders. “Buena suerte, (Good luck)” Alejandro says as they finally step outside. “You’ll figure this out, and if you need us, we’re only a call away.”

As the door clicks shut behind them, the silence settles around you, leaving only the lingering comfort of their support. You turn back to the remnants of your shop, now tidier and slightly more familiar. But there’s no mistaking the weight still hanging in the air, pressing you forward.

. . .

Later that day, you’re carefully tending to Sybil. Between gentle touches, you juggle phone calls to regular shoppers, letting them know their orders will be delayed, and texting to suppliers, asking them to hold off until next week.

"Yes, Mrs. Eldridge, I understand the urgency. I’ll have the tonic for you as soon as possible. A few more days, thank you so much for your patience."

“Can you give me just a few more days? I’m handling some unforeseen… complications.”

The anxiety gnaws at you, a creeping feeling that your business teeters on a precarious edge. You remind yourself, almost like a mantra, that you have some savings—it’s enough to keep things afloat, for a time. But only if matters resolve quickly.

Returning your attention to Sybil, you feel the weight of it all settle onto your shoulders, heavier than you care to admit. You reach out, pressing a soft kiss to her snoot. “We’ll make it through, love. One way or another, we’ll figure this out.”

You settle on the floor, back pressed against the edge of your bed where Sybil is resting, her breathing calm but shallow. Your contact book lies open across your lap, and your phone is balanced precariously on your knee as you scroll through names and numbers, ticking off the people you’ve already called. Each tick brings a sense of relief, a small semblance of control in the storm that has upturned your life. You pause, taking a moment to rub your temples, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in your bones.

As you prepare to make another call, the sudden shrill ring of your phone pierces the quiet. The sound jolts you, and your grip tightens reflexively. Glancing down at the screen, your heart flounders and tightens painfully. Price. His name flashes across the screen, dread washing over you—why call now?

You nearly don’t answer. But your thumb hovers, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press accept and bring the phone to your ear.

“….Hello?”

His voice comes instantly through, raw and laced with an edge you’ve never heard before. “It’s Leah,” he says, words tumbling over each other. “She’s burning up, sick as hell, and nothing’s working. We can’t get the fever down. We’ve tried everything.”

“And so you called me?” you say, voice hardening against the anger rising in your chest. “After everything, you think I’m the one to fix this?”

He’s silent for a beat, then quietly, “Yes.” He doesn’t try to justify it, and the simple honesty in his answer makes you hesitate, grounding the anger you wanted to unleash. This wasn’t just a request—this was desperation.

“Start from the beginning,” you say, voice tight but steady. “Tell me every detail of her symptoms, when they started, how they’ve progressed—don’t leave anything out.”

Price’s voice, strained but controlled, begins to unravel the story: Leah had seemed fine until a few nights ago, just tired, but by morning, the fever had set in—high, unrelenting, and resistant to everything they’d tried. She’s grown weaker by the hour, barely coherent. His descriptions blur into each other, desperation breaking through his calm as he shares every attempt they’ve made, every remedy that’s failed.

As he speaks, you descend the stairs into your shop, eyes scanning over the remnants of what’s left. Some vials remain intact, and you sift through them, gathering anything that might help—the fever reducers, the cleansing tonics, a few precious herbs that hadn’t been shattered in the chaos.

“Alright,” you say when he’s finished, stuffing the gathered supplies into your bag with a steady hand. “I’ll bring what I can and get there as soon as possible. Just… keep her comfortable, and don’t try anything else. I’ll be there soon.”

You go back up to find Sybil with her head raised, her large eyes full of a quiet, unwavering insistence. She’s done laying around; every inch of her posture says as much. She huffs, as if to say, If you’re going, so am I. You hesitate, feeling the weight of her stare—knowing she’s right. If whatever is behind this catches you apart, it’ll only make things worse.

Sighing, you brush a hand over her snout and murmur, “Alright, girl, you win.” Carefully and balancing your bag on one shoulder, you lift her and move her into the truck, arranging some blankets you keep in your trunk to make her as comfortable as possible. Sybil settles there, eyes sharp and ready as you get a move on.

When you reach the house and park your truck, you dig into your bag and pull out a small bundle of sage, binding it to the rearview mirror with a careful knot. Whispering a few words over it, you weave a protective spell that should shield Sybil from harm while alerting you if anything—or anyone—tries to break into the truck.

You lean over the seat and give her a gentle kiss on her head, murmuring, “Stay safe, girl. I’ll be back soon.” She watches you leave, calm but alert.

As you walk up the driveway, memories drift up. The last time you were here, Leah had answered the door, her face bright despite the chaos inside. Now, as you step up to the door, the silence presses down like a heavy weight.

No one comes to greet you. The door creaks open with a single push, echoing down the empty hall as you slip inside, clutching your bag of supplies. The moment you step further into the threshold, the stench hits you—a sickly blend of decay and stale air. Instinctively, you raise a hand to cover your nose, eyes narrowing as you take in the disarray around you.

The entryway is a wasteland of discarded belongings, papers scattered and kicked to the sides, dusty furniture slumped as though forgotten. You feel the hairs on your neck prickle—Price would never leave things like this. And as for Gaz…his wards are gone, their faint warmth and hum that once guarded the house is now absent.

You continue forward, each step creaks underfoot, the house itself feeling more hollow, like it’s been emptied of any life it once held. Climbing the stairs, the stench only worsens. Passing door after door, you scan each room until, finally, near the far end of the hall, you find him.

Price sits on the floor, back against the wall, head in his hands. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t even flinch as you approach. His clothes rumpled, stained, his usual military crispness replaced by a weary, slumped figure.

“John?” you call softly, your voice barely a whisper.

He lifts his head, and the exhaustion in his eyes is like a punch to the gut. His beard is wild and unkempt, deep lines crease his face, shadows under his eyes dark and hollow. He looks up at you as if he’s only half-awake, half-alive, struggling to register that someone else is even there.

“It’s…you,” he mumbles, a hint of relief breaking through the fog in his eyes. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

His words are tinged with something raw, almost pleading, and you tighten your grip on your bag. “Of course I came. I tried to reach you all, and you didn’t—” you bite back the accusation, the fear twisting into frustration. “…what the hell happened here?”

Price’s gaze flickers away, his shoulders slumping further. He rubs a hand over his face, trying to muster some semblance of composure, but it crumbles almost immediately. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly, voice hoarse. “Things just…fell apart.”

His words are weak and lacklustre. You want to lash out, unleash the anger and frustration that's been building since you first walked through the door—the endless, ignored messages, the silence, the sheer neglect they've let fester. You want to scream at him for allowing things to come to this. 

But reality hangs heavy in the air. No amount of shouting will help undo things. 

“Where's everyone else?” you ask, trying to mask your anxiety.

“Gaz is inside with Leah,” he replies, his voice taut with worry. “Ghost… he’s locked himself away in the far wing of the house. We’ve set up protective spells on the door to keep him contained. And Soap—he’s somewhere in the forest, too feral to be around right now.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, and square your shoulders. With Ghost gone for now....you feel a little safer. “Show me to Leah,” you say, voice steady. “We can talk about everything else later.”

He stands up and guides you into the room, which is Inside is clean, organised, and untouched by the decay and disorder in the rest of the house. Just as you step inside, Gaz appears, his gaze catching yours with a flash of shock. “You…you came.” His voice is hoarse, filled with a mix of disbelief and hope.

But you cut him off with a look. “I’ll talk to both of you once I’ve seen Leah.” You push past him, heart pounding as you approach the bed.

Leah lies there motionless, her skin pale and almost translucent, sweat dampening her hair as she struggles to breathe. She’s a shadow of the person you remember, her body frail, almost brittle-looking. You press your hand to her forehead, feeling the unnatural heat radiating off her. 

Setting up on the nightstand, you start with a fresh egg and an empty cup. “I need to check for any curses or malign influences,” you explain to Price and Gaz, who hover close, concern etched on their faces. You position the egg over Leah, your breath catching as you begin to run it gently over her body. 

As you pass the egg over her chest, it feels heavy in your hand, and you take note of that at the back of your thoughts. When you finally pull it away and break it over the cup, you grimace at what comes out: the contents are putrid, blackened and oozing a foul-smelling substance. 

“Damn it,” you curse under your breath, your heart racing as the implications sink in. “This is worse than I thought.”

Panic flares in Price’s eyes, and Gaz leans in closer, both of them wanting to understand, to help. “What does it mean?” Price asks, his voice tense with fear.

“Out!” you shout, frustration boiling over. “Both of you, out! I can’t think with you hovering like that!” The urgency in your voice surprises even you, but they back off reluctantly, exchanging glances that communicate their worry.

Once the door closes behind them, the air feels a bit lighter, and you let out a shaky breath. You pull the covers off Leah, apologising under your breath. “I’m sorry, Leah. I need to do this.” Gently, you start to examine her body, careful and methodical. You can’t shake the guilt of not getting her consent first, but you know this is necessary.

You search her body meticulously, hoping to find any physical signs of injury or affliction. But as you scan her limbs, you find nothing—no cuts, no bruises. Just skin that feels too hot, a pulse that’s weak and fluttering. Anxiety gnaws at you; if there’s nothing physical, then what is causing this?

With no other options left, you resort to the looking glass spell—one you keep at the back of your mind and rarely use. You quickly step out, and catch Gaz’s attention with a quiet call of his name. John is nowhere to be seen.

He steps forward immediately, brows knitted in concern. “What is it?”

You hesitate only a moment before asking, “Could you bring me a bowl of warm water? And some soap—any kind, just… something that’ll make enough bubbles.”

Gaz’s expression flickers with curiosity and a bit of worry, but he nods. “Sure thing. Won’t take a minute.” He disappears down the hall and into the kitchen.

Within moments, he’s back, handing you a small basin filled with steaming water and a bottle of liquid soap. “Anything else?”

You shake your head, barely sparing him a glance back. “No, I’ve got it from here.”

He glances at Leah, and with a brief nod backs away, closing the door softly behind him.

You shake your head in dismay, before squeezing a healthy amount of soap into bowl and dipping your hands in, the heat soothing against your chilled fingers. You rub your palms until a layer of bubbles forms, the light, pearlescent film floating just above the surface. Steadying yourself, you shape your hands into a ring, forming a delicate, translucent ‘looking glass’ with your thumb and index finger.

You take a deep breath, focusing your energy, letting it flow from your fingertips into the circle as you gaze through it. The room dims, the world beyond your fingers blurring, until the scene sharpens again, revealing the inside of Leah’s chest.

Inside, her heart pulses faintly, its rhythm disturbingly slow, a faint and fragile beat. Wrapped tightly around it is a writhing, segmented parasite—long and winding, like some twisted centipede. It coils and constricts, pulsating in time with her heartbeat as though feeding off her very life force.

A sickening wave of horror hits you, and you gasp, the bubble popping and breaking the spell. This is forbidden magic—and worse of all, vampiric in nature. Your hands shake, and you clutch them tightly to your chest, fighting the urge to look away from her still form on the bed.

It’s one thing to read about such creatures in dusty old texts, where they’re distant, almost mythological threats. But to see it here, wrapped around Leah’s heart, consuming her from within…!

You’d need something far beyond the usual tools to dislodge it. The necessary charms, wards, and talismans to attempt such a removal aren’t here in your humble kit, and even if they were… you’re not sure you’d be able to muster the energy needed. Not now. Not after everything.

Your thoughts immediately freeze, instantly conjuring the one person who could help—a name surfacing like an unwanted ghost in your mind. The thought of her makes your skin prickle, a reflexive dread settling deep in your gut.

Unlike before, you wouldn't be calling for a friend. No, far from it.

You glance at your discarded phone, wet fingers hovering just over the screen. To ask for her help would mean facing scrutiny, judgement—the cold, familiar sting of disappointment. Worst of all, the quiet, unspoken proof of what you already fear: that you were never strong enough on your own.

But right now, there’s no time to weigh the consequences. And so, you dial a number, that even thought you had long deleted from your contacts, you still know by heart.

The line rings, each tone echoing your mounting anxiety, and when it finally clicks, silence stretches between you and the other end. You know she’s there—she’s just waiting for you to speak, to ask for what you need.

You squirm, shifting your weight as you muster the courage to break the tension. After what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to speak, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“Mother,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, strained with urgency. “I need your help.”

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