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lizthewriter · 8 months

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get him back! / theodore nott

PAIRING theodore nott x fem!reader

SUMMARY after playboy mattheo riddle dumps you for another girl, your best friend motivates you to get the best revenge - be the girl he would always want, but could never have. you take things to the extreme when theodore nott offers you a deal you can't say no to. PART 2 HERE

TAGS theodore nott x fem!reader, past!mattheo riddle x fem!reader, modern!au, university!au, ginny is your best friend, fake dating, college parties, gluna / linny, part 2?

QUOTE "yeah i pour my little heart out, / but as i'm hitting send, / i picture all the faces of my dissappointed friends, / because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do, / he said i was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth," - get him back! by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 2.2K

WRITTEN 12.15.2023

hey, mattheo, how are you? i know it's been a while but i thought i'd -

No. What the hell are you doing? You hold the backspace, watching as the words you had just typed out disappeared. This was ridiculous - you couldn't keep doing this. Ginny would be so dissappointed in you. He had cheated on you, multiple times. He had spent all his time flirting with other girls. He lied to you and then his apologies were just fancy, elaborate gifts soaked in wealth and champagne. How could you still want him, need him, so viscerally?

"What are you doing?" You threw your phone over to your bed and turned around to face Ginny with a sickeningly-sweet grin.

"What? Nothing," you responded innocently. She narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion and made her way over to your bed, picking up your phone and glancing at the screen. You had forgotten to turn it off. Shit.

"Oh come on, seriously? Riddle? That douchebag?" She asked incredulously, sending you one of her famous looks of dissappointment. You got up and snatched your phone from her hand, only to crash on your bed.

"I know, I know," you responded with whine. "And I hate him too . . . but I miss him." You snatched one of your pillows and planted your face into it. The muffled scream was still louder than it ought to be, making Ginny cringe, but still rather satisfying. You let out a huff of breath. "I don't know what to do. I want to punch him in the face but at the same time . . . I want to kiss his stupid fucking face. That piece of shit."

You stared at his picture and let out a sigh. He was so damn complicated.

Ginny snatched your phone from you yet again. "All right, here's what we're going to do. We're going to come up with a plan to make Mattheo Riddle the most jealous man on the planet and in the process, find you someone new and much better. All right?"

You groaned. The thought of it sounded exhausted, but even you had to admit that there was a certain appeal to showing up at some party he was at, dressed to the nines, and bringing home another guy all while he watched. You sat up and stared at Ginny, before hesitantly saying, ". . . Go on."

"I know darling it's upsetting, darling, but . . . you're just not my kind of girl."

The words rang out in your head as you stood before a large mansion belonging to one of the many wealthy students at your campus. Cars were parked around the enormous driveway and the music from inside was booming so loudly that your could feel your bones vibrate with the beat.

Ginny slipped her arm through yours and flashed you one of her adventurous smiles. "Cheer up - you're going to be the prettiest girl they ever did see," Ginny said mockingly, pinching your cheeks. You barked out a laugh, playfully shoving her arm away.

"You sound like some posh grandma."

"But I'm your posh grandma," Ginny responded with a pout as you two began to climb the stone steps to the completely open front door. (I mean, seriously, who leaves the door to their house open? It's like they're asking to be robbed.)

The music steadily became louder upon approach, making it almost impossible to hear your own voice as you entered. The sleek wooden floors were bathed in a variety of disco lights, an odd contrast in comparison to the lovely home that looked like it belonged to some stuffy old Oxford professor.

"Hello ladies," said a jubilant man leaning against the doorframe leading to the foyer. He looked Ginny up and down before pushing himself off the wall and approaching Ginny. "Lovely to see you again." He sent a wink Ginny's way, which she responded to with a playful roll of her eyes. You finally recognized him - he was a sports major, friends with some of her older brothers. Lee, you remembered his name was. He was a flirt - he had tried with you once, when you were with Mattheo. It didn't end so well for him.

"I'm glad to see your nose is doing better, Jordan," you spoked with a friendly smile.

He pinched it and then looked down at his hand. "Good as new, I suppose, but there's still a scar on my heart," he claimed dramatically, walking wistfully away with the expression of a lovelorn, heartbroken lead in a Victorian drama. You and Ginny giggled and delved further into the lion's den. Numerous people greeted you, but especially Ginny (she had always been the popular one). A paticular boy, Harry, had his eye on her for quite some time. You wouldn't be one to say he was unattractive - he was fairly pretty. He was a Criminal Justice major and a pretty nice guy from your understanding. But you knew Ginny wasn't interested.

When Ginny stopped walking, you did too, as your arms were intertwined. You followed her line of sight and smirked at what - well, who - she was staring at. A wistfully odd girl with pale blonde hair down to her waist and an odd sort of dress adorning her body. People gave her odd looks, whispering to their friends. Why is she here? No one likes her.

You nudged Ginny multiple times to grab her attention once more. "Hey, you can go on without me. I'll be fine."

"What? No! I'm not abandoning you, you're my best friend and -"

"Go," you insisted. "I promise, I'll be fine."

She looked rather torn, glancing between the two of you before stomping her feet and letting out a groan. "I hate you," she whined.

"I hate you too," you responded with a grin. You turned her around, your hands on her shoulders, and pushed in her in the general direction of one eccentric Luna Lovegood. "Now go! Don't worry about me, we've been planning this for days!"

"Good luck!" She shouted at you before she disappeared into the sea of people. A few moments later, after much difficultly trying to see her, you saw her chatting up the girl. All right, my turn, you thought.

You scoured the room - you wouldn't say you were the most introverted person in the world, but you definitely weren't the most outgoing either. You needed to find someone who would really pull at Mattheo's nerves, make those prominent veins pop out of his head. You wanted him to feel the anger and the pain that you felt. You wanted to get him back!

There was no one on the bottom floor that caught your eye, so you climbed the stairs to where the more . . . elegant students were. (Rich, more like.)

They weren't anymore sophisticated than the people downstairs, but there was still that air of refinement that made you feel slightly out of place. You wandered around the many rooms for a bit before you found a kitchen (they had one upstairs and downstairs?) Grabbing a drink, you wandered around some more, making friendly conversations with some of your peers. As you were talking with Neville, a very kind boy from one of your general education courses, someone in paticular caught your eye and everything clicked.

Theodore Nott. He was the son to a rather rich Italian man, the CEO of one of the most well-known designer shoe brands in Europe. His mother died rather unfortunately of illness at a young age. He's been very prominent, especially in recent years. He's been a model for his father's company, he was in the top 5% of your class, and he's - well - he's known as the most handsome boy in your year.

You definitely weren't going to deny that - he was drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were so . . . alluring. Dark and sexy, a pool of emotions shrouded by mystery. Okay, so maybe you were going far too overboard with your description of him, but for the love of God, was he attractive.

Somehow, he could feel your gaze upon him. He had been sitting on a couch, telling a story to a tight-knit group of friends, Mattheo included you noticed, that you had taken your eyes off of him. You felt embarrassed, pretended to look around the room, and then turned your attention back towards Neville with an encouraging smile that pretended that you had been listening to him rant all along.

"Excuse me," you heard Nott say, standing up from the couch. The champagne flute in his hand was rather empty so you deduced that he was probably going to go fill it. An educated guess, but an incorrect one. He did something you never expected. He approached you.

"Longbottom, I hear Greengrass has a question about a Geo-sci class you two share. She seemed rather distressed by it. I'm sure she'd appreciate your help," Theo told Neville - you glanced at Daphne Greengrass. She looked nowhere near distressed, but Neville perked up in excitement.

"R-really?" He asked nervously, wringing his hands. He gave you a sheepish smile. "Talk to you later, I've got to go help Daphne."

"Yeah, see you later Nev," you replied. Nott looked down at you for a moment before raising his glass.

"It seems we're both in need of a refill. Care to join me?" His expression was nothing more than emotionless, except perhaps the tiniest smirk that remained upon those rose-dusted lips. You shrugged nonchalantly, only just noticing the vacancy in your glass.

"Sure, why not?"

You followed a quite Theodore Nott to the kitchen again, where he poured himself champagne from a very specialized fridge unit filled with distinguished bottles of liquor - merlot and pinot noir and all those fancy alcohols you would have assumed people like him drank. He silently offered you some by tipping the bottle towards you. You offered him your glass, which he poured a fair amount in, not too much, not too little. Just right.

"I'm suprised to see you here."

You arched a brow in response as he took a light sip from the flute resting in a delicate balance between his two fingers. Precariously, a smile dained your face. "And why is that?"

"Your Riddle's ex-girl, aren't you?"

He asked in such a way that seemed as though he didn't care much at all.

The smile from your face disappeared, replaced by something much more bitter. You shrugged, but the action was much more passive-agressive than you had intended it to be. "So what? Does that mean something to you?"

He placed the flute down, the glass clinking against the marble countertop. "Riddle and I have a . . . complicated relationship."

"You mean, your dear old daddies are both relevant, rival shoe designers?" You said it so innocently. Nott smirked at you.

"Yeah, something like that. Listen," he leaned in close to you, leaning his arms against the counter in an attempt to lower himself to your level. He was rather lanky and tall, which you supposed was good for a model, but hard for when you want to actually talk to him. "You and I both want something from him."

"And what's that, Nott?" You asked with mock curiosity, placing your chin in the palm of your hands with a tilt of your head.

"Well, let's just say you didn't come here tonight, dressed like that, in the hopes that he would fuck you," he responded, quite bluntly. Well, you supposed that sort of honesty was an inherited trait. "Everyone knows what went down between you two - he aired out your dirty laundry for all to see. No, you came back here to get revenge."

"Astute," you said with a tone of disdain. Taking a sip of your champagne, you found that it actually had a much more delightful taste than any other alcohol you had. You smacked down the glass on the countertop. "Really, Nott, thanks for that." You began to leave but Theo grabbed you by the arm.

"Wait! Just . . . listen," he said, panting slightly. His brows were scrunchdd together in frustration - he seemed genuinely distressed. The only reason you stayed was because you realized something rather odd.

You turned towards him with furrowed brows. "Is Theodore Nott . . . desperate for something?" You asked with a disbelieving scoff. At the sight of his jaw clenching, his eyes avoiding yours, you let out a shocked laugh.

"Shut it," he muttered, sending you a dark glare.

"Now that's certainly out of character," you said, slugging off his iron grip. "All right, you've got my attention. What is it?"

"My father's been trying to score one over Riddle for years. Rumor is Mattheo's father wants him to marry a good woman, someone that won't tarnish his son's so-called good reputation. And well, you . . . slipped through his fingers like sand. Stealing him from you would make my father more . . . proud."

You crinkled up your nose. "You're not proposing to me, are you? Cause the answer is no."

"No, no. I'm just asking you to date me, at least for a bit."

The sound of it seemed ridiculous, but then you thought - you were both getting something out of it. It was nothing more than a partnership, and a good one at that. Either way, you'd be pulling one over Mattheo and that would be good enough for you.

"How much is 'for a bit'?"

"Everyone." Theo had walked back into the room, you snuggled comfortably into his arms. He had tapped a fork against his glass, gathering the attention of his friends. Mattheo's jaw dropped, the hand swung around some girl you had seen around slithering it's way back to his side. "I want to introduce you to my girlfriend."

That's right, you smug snake. I win.

part two coming soon . . . <3

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #my writing #fanfiction #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys

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doitforbangchan · 5 months

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All Bark and No Bite- 15

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Chapter warnings: Fem/Afab reader, Smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), kissing, grinding, biting (a lot), blood, blood in mouth, dom!Jeongin, sub!Reader, subspace, virginity loss, breeding kink, loss of control, A/b/o rut symptoms, overstimulation, cursing, crying, pet names, begging, fluff, angst.

WC: 8.1k

You don’t recall how you got to bed last night. Everything after the… intimacy is a big blur. You vaguely remember being put into the huge bathtub, clearly needing a wash down after the copious amount of slick that came from you and covered your thighs. There's a faint memory of both Chan and Felix joining you in the oversized tub, showering you with love and praises.

As you came too that morning, you noticed you were wrapped in not one pair of arms, but two. That's right. During your bath last night you had laid a claiming bite to Felix. You were so delirious as you floated through deep space, that on instinct you had just leaned over and bit into him. Thankfully Felix didn’t mind, though both he and Chan had been shocked at the sudden display. Felix instead just held you tighter to him as you dug your teeth into his skin, tears of happiness and love bursting from his eyes.

You could surmise that after that encounter you had been apprehensive to leave the beta, thus how all three of you ended up in Chan's bed together. Chan had his arm draped over you on one side, snoring soundly and mouth agape. Felix was on your opposite side curled up into you, seemingly as close as he possibly could. You felt at peace there in the comfort and warmth of the two boys. So much so that after reflecting on the previous night your eyes started to droop again. Just before sleep could reclaim you there was a booming thudding that shook the whole house.

All at once, all three of you shot up in panic. Chan immediately went into protective mode, scanning both you and Felix quickly before he clamored out of bed. You and Felix looked at each other in fear and the beta grabbed onto you, pulling you into him. Just as Chan had reached the doorknob to leave his room to go investigate, there was another crash. This time it sounded like something shattered. Then came the deafening cry-

“CHAN HELP!”

His skin felt like it was melting off, the blistering heat in his blood making him sweat bullets. Jeongin hadn’t slept all night. Not a single second. His brain and body would not let him rest for even a moment after what he had witnessed in the living room last night. After seeing you like that, in that blissful and fucked out state. It was enough to drive a man mad.

Or in this case, enough to drive a recently presented alpha into a rut. The last two (and only two) other times he went into a rut he had been able to sense it for days. Had been able to prepare for it and remove himself from the house. This time was different though. There hadn’t been any warning, there hadn't been any signs, nothing.

At first he tried to shake it off. He had skulked back to his room seamlessly last night. He figured he was just having a normal horny reaction, something he’s been dealing with ever since he met you. Sleeping it off would help, right?

Wrong

Jeongin tried, he really did. He drank some water to cool himself down and laid in his bed. Soon enough he threw his blankets off of him, feeling way too hot under them. Then he opened his window, trying to get some air flow to cool him down. When that didn’t work he tore his shirt off and used it to wipe the sweat that was building on his forehead and chest.

Then the pacing began. For some reason he couldn’t sit still, his skin was crawling and he began to feel antsy. Time ran away from him as he paced his room. Back and forth, over and over again. The pain didn’t begin until he started to run his fingers through his hair, when his mind wandered off and he imagined it was you who was touching his hair.

He couldn’t stop the mental images of you he had seen. How deep you took Felix's dick down your throat. Your glassy eyes when you choked on it. The ripple of your ass after each thrust into you from behind. The whimpers and cries of pleasure you let go of as you came. Fuck, don’t even get him started on the smell that permeated out of you. The thick arousal had spread through every orifice of the house, so thick he figured he could have stuck out his tongue and tasted you in the air.

He craved it more than breathing. His cock craved it. His boner had been steadily growing in his pj shorts. A continuous dripping of his precum spouting through the tip and making a wet spot on his shorts.

Jeongin felt a dangerous amount of sheer aggression within him begging to be released. It was at this point he knew exactly what was happening, and by now it was too late to leave or do anything about it. It was nearing dawn by now, he could see the first sign of the sun beginning to crest over the thick forest outside the window.

While he was still somewhat in his right mind he decided the best course of action would be to lock himself up in his room, and pray it ended swiftly. Not only did he lock his door but he also pushed his dresser in front of his door so no one could enter his space. Maybe not his smartest move but in his rattled brain it seemed like the best course of action.

After another hour he couldn’t stop humping into his pillows, begging for some kind of release. He would take literally anything. But nothing came, or more like he couldn’t cum. He was growling and crying as he tried desperately to get off. Deep inside himself he knew why he couldn’t. It’s because he didn’t have you.

“Fuck!” He cursed louding, gripping into his now moistened pillow with both hands and literally tearing it into two pieces. His sense of reality was slipping quickly.

There was a tentative knock on his door that startled the alpha.

“Innie? Are you ok?” The sleepy voice of Jisung rang in his ears through the door. The beta tried the door but was met with it being locked. The handle rattled. “Why is your door locked? You never lock it.”

Jeongin growled at the attempted intrusion. “Go away Jisung.”

Jisung could hear the menace in the younger boy's tone, and it shook him more awake. Then came the overwhelming amount of pheromones that leaked through the cracks in the alphas door. ‘Holy fucking shit. Innie is in a rut.’

“Innie… If you're going into a rut right now, then we gotta get you outta here. You gotta go to the safehouse.” Jisungs words were almost a whisper, the scent was making his throat close up and his eyes water.

“There was no time, it’s too late for that. Leave me alone.” The alpha grumbled, eyes trained on the door with malicious intent. He had never in his life felt so feral. It was kind of scary. He was still sweating profusely.

In hindsight, the next thing the beta said may not have been his brightest, “ Well you can’t stay here. What if you hurt someone? What if you hurt baby?”

At the mention of you, the alpha lost control of himself. There was a deep rumbling coming from within him as his instincts took over and he knew he just needed you. He had to get to his omega immediately.

Jeongin shot off his bed hastily and to the barricade he had created for himself. With all his might he ripped the opposing furniture away from the door, creating a loud boom that shook the house as it clattered away from the door. He then went to unlock the door and rip it open, but was met with the terrified hands of Jisung who gave him a harsh push back into his room. The force caused the alpha to fall back into another desk, knocking down a lamp that resided there. There was a shattering clang as it hit the floor.

Jisung panicked and yanked the door closed, holding it there as tight as he could, but he knew he would be no match for a raging alpha. So he did the only thing he could do… Get help.

“CHAN HELP!”

The second Chan left his room he could tell exactly what was happening. The smell alone was enough to fill him in on the predicament. He sprinted through the halls until he reached the source of the commotion.

Jisung was still holding the door while he fought back cries. “Channie, thank fucking god.”

“What the fuck happened?” The alpha demanded, eyes hard.

“Innie, he -” Ji was cut off by a strong pull against the door, the beta unable to keep position and almost flying forward with it as it was yanked.

Chan pulled Jisung back and flung himself into Jeongin before he could leave the room. “Go get Changbin, now Ji.” He called to the beta, who took off towards Bins room. Chan could see the broken mess on the floor, a sense of understanding coming over him. Then he focused back on Jeongin. He had his arms wrapped around the alpha boy as he thrashed in his hold. “Jeongin, you have to stop. You're in a rut, this isn’t you.” Chan was using his head alpha voice to try and corral the younger, but it did little to quell him.

Back in Chan's room, you and Felix could hear a commotion down on the second floor of the house. Without a thought other than to help, you slipped out of Felix's hold and off the bed, ignoring the intense ache that was settled between your legs.

“Baby stop!” Felix tried to reach for you but you were quicker, shooting out of the room with him hot on your tail. You managed to stay one step ahead of him until right when you made it to the threshold where there was now a gathering of the pack. Felix wrapped you in his hold tightly before you could enter, his bright eyes scanning the situation. You could both tell by the scent that there was an alpha in a rut nearby. “We’re going back to Chan's room. This is no place for you.”

Peering in as you squirmed you could see Jeongin being held tightly against Changbin as Chan had a grip on his face, attempting to calm down the youngest alpha. Jisung was to the side, hands on his face as he observed. Jeongin’s eyes were wild as he attempted to push the other boys off of him, until suddenly the flailing stopped and his nose flared. He could sense you nearby with his currently heightened senses.

His gaze zeroed in on you just beyond his door, held by Felix, as you wore nothing but a t- shirt. “Omega.”

Chan swiftly turned his head to see you there, “Fuck. Felix get her out of here.” He sounded pissed now.

“M’ tryin!” The beta pulled at you, but you dead weighted yourself to make it harder. “Baby come on! Please!”

“No!” You protested, digging your heels in. “He needs me!” Your omega brain only has one mission at this very moment. Help the alpha. Make it better.

By now the other few members had come out of their rooms frantically, now crowding around the scene that was unfolding. It was quite the sight indeed. All alphas were in their underwear; having no time to change into clothes given the circumstances.

“Jesus fucking christ, can we not have one normal day?! For once?!” Minho shouted in exasperation. The eldest beta noticed Felix struggling with you and went to help. “Y/n, go to your room.”

“No!” you yelled again, tears coming to your lashes as you fought. “I can’t! He needs me!”

“For fuck sake, just listen for once!” Minho yelled at you, but it was kind of your thing to not listen to what he said. Instead you shook your head in defiance. The beta wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. “Fine. I won’t be responsible for this fucking mess.” He snarled as he threw his hands up and stomped past Hyunjin who quickly got out of the elder betas way. It was too early for this shit…

You looked to Chan, your eyes pleading and filled with crystalline tears. “Channie, please. Let me help him. I don’t know how or why, but I need to help him. Please, alpha.”

Chan cursed when he heard your begs, but then he noticed something. Once Jeongin had eyes on you he had calmed down. Minimally, but it was a noticeable improvement. The boy wasn’t fighting against them as hard and his breathing wasn’t as labored. He never would have grabbed Jeongin like this in the first place if he wasn’t fighting so bad and knocking shit over.

“Bin, hold him tight, ok?” Changbin nodded, latching onto the youngest alpha. He too had noticed the change. Chan went swiftly to you, grabbing your face in both hands and tilting your face up. “Do you even understand what you’re asking me right now, omega?”

You tried to nod but you couldn’t with his hold on your face. “Yes Chan, I think I do.”

“You think you do? Let me explain something to you, love. Innie has only ever gone through his rut twice before, and never with another person. Fuck, he’s never been with another person period.”

Jeongin was…a virgin?!

“He especially never went through it with an omega. This is a recipe for a man who is almost wild with need. Do you think that’s something you could handle?” His tone was skeptical as he searched for any sign of trepidation in your face. Chan remembers how he used to be when he started getting ruts. He was an insatiable asshole. To be fair, not much has changed.

Your eyes flitted over to Jeongin. He was still standing in the middle of his room being held and whispered to by Changbin. His predatory stare was locked on you; his pupils blown way out of proportion. It didn’t help that you had on nothing but Felix's shirt and nothing else.

“Honestly, Channie.” You looked back at him. “I believe I can handle it. I want to try.”

He stared at you for a moment longer, searching your eyes for anything that would negate what you said. When he found nothing he let out a sigh and dropped his hands from you. “If it becomes too much for you, call for me. Promise me you will.”

“I promise.” you stated with no hesitancy whatsoever.

He looked around at all the worried faces of the pack, then back to you to give you a hard stare. “Ok.. You win, omega.” You went to cheer but he cut you off, “First go take your pill. And you have to be sure to take it every single day, rut or no rut.”

“You got it!” You pulled him in for a swift kiss that surprised him, then you hightailed it back to Chan's room for your pill. You gulped it down with the glass of water that was left on the nightstand.

Honestly you had no clue why you were so excited. You knew how rough and demanding an alpha could be, one during a rut would be a whole other ball game. But something about it excited you. Maybe it was the prospect of a challenge, maybe it was anticipation of helping one of your alphas.

You skipped back down to the second floor, finding none of the betas present anymore. Chan had sent them back to their own devices- there was no need for anymore of a spectacle. The door to Jeongins room was closed now. Chan leaned back up against the door waiting for you.

He cupped your face again as you approached. “You really are the best omega, you know that?” You preened at his praise, leaning into his touch. “Take breaks when you need to. I’ll be out here with food for you both in a few hours.” After you nodded he gave you a passionate kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away. “ I love you.”

“I love you too, Channie.” he gave you another kiss then he let you go and stepped away from the door. You took a deep breath and reached for the door handle but before you could turn the handle it opened, revealing Changbin coming out of the room. He closed the door behind him.

“Hey baby. Be careful in there, Innie is chomping at the bit.” He chuckled, giving you a deep kiss as he passed. “I know you’ll be fine though. He loves you too much to hurt you, rut or not.”

Your face heated up, “He loves me?”

“Are you kidding?” Bin asked in surprise. “That kid loves you more than almost anything. We all do. You’re our special girl. Our precious baby.” He giggled when he saw your eyes fill with tears. “Don’t cry, baby. Save it for Innie.”

“I love you all too, Binnie. So much.” You yanked him down to plant another kiss on his lips. “Ok ok, I’m on a mission here.”

He threw his hands up and stepped back to stand next to Chan who had been watching your interaction. Any other time you would have taken a moment to ogle the two Alphas who were still in their underwear.

You debated knocking on but figured it would be pointless, so with a slight shake to your hands you turned the handle and opened the door. You cracked it open and stepped through the threshold, “Innie?” You heard a pained moan when you said his name.

Nothing could prepare you for the scene you walked into. There was your sweet Jeongin, laying on his bed, his clothes scattered across the room, and his fist jerking his red cock. His motions were jerky and rough, and his body was covered in sweat. His face was flushed and he was panting. His eyes were locked on your form the second you stepped into his room. The pupils in his eyes took over entirely, reminding you he was a predator and you were his prey.

“Omega,” It came out as a deep rumble from the back of his throat. “Come here.” There was no nicety in his voice, only gravelly desire.

With a gulp you took careful steps over to where he laid. The closer you got to him the quicker the pace of his hand went, his nostrils were flaring as he took in your scent. The state of him caused a pool of slick to gather in your core, and by the way he grit his teeth you knew he could smell it. “Hi, Innie..” You reached a tentative hand out to pat down his sweaty hair in an attempt to comfort him. Though comfort was not what he was after.

He took advantage of your outstretched hand, grabbing the appendage with lightning quick reflexes and hauling you onto his bed. In less than a second he had you trapped underneath him. His big hands had a grip on your hips underneath the shirt you wore and his face was shoved into your neck as he breathed in your scent.

Jeongins eyes turned into slits when he smelt the other members of the pack on you. “Take this shit off of you, now.” It came out as an intimidating growl, and with a burst of aggression he gripped the shirt and tore it right down the middle. You gasped when the now torn fabric fell off of you and when he literally tossed the opposing garment to the floor. “Mm that’s better.”

The alpha couldn’t help but gawk at your bare form underneath him. He was salivating at the sight of your breasts; your erect nipples just begging to be sucked on and bitten. You were starting to feel insecure at his excruciating stare. “Innie… You’re making me self conscious…” Your hands went to cover yourself but he grabbed your hands and held them down on each side of you.

A groan of objection left him “None of that, Omega. Don’t you ever hide from me.” He buried his face into your chest, licking over the perked skin. He hummed when you gave him a quiet yelp when he bit particularly hard at your nipple. “Need to hear you make that sound for me, again and again.”

He suckled once again before he let your hands go free, and he laid wet, sloppy kisses and nips down your body. He traveled south as he marked your skin with his mouth. His teeth repeatedly grazed over your skin, gathering the flesh between his teeth with each movement; all the while he still held your hands down by your sides.

Even though you were so sore from yesterday's activities, your body was slowly creating slickness to prepare for the alpha. When he laid a particularly rough nip you couldn’t stop the little whine, “Innie…”

Jeongin let out a growl at your whine, mouthing even further down until he finally reached his destination. He shuffled down until he was face to face with your core. His eyes closed as he breathed in the pure scent of you, finding it immediately mouth watering. Without a second thought he dove face first into your pussy. He rubbed his nose back and forth as he breathed you in, it made your face heat with how lewd it was.

You gasped when his hot mouth made contact. “Ah Jeongin!” You attempted to put your hands on his head but his firm hold kept your hands down still.

Jeongin wasted no time in lapping up your slick. The alpha moaned loudly when he got a taste of your juices. He buried his face as far into you as possible, almost as if he was trying to be absorbed by you completely. The way he licked and sucked at you was desperate and chaotic. He had found no rhythm and was going purely based on instinct. Hell, he wasn’t even breathing, just taking in as much as he could of you.

You moaned and rocked your hips against his face. Even though he was sloppy and untrained you still found yourself swimming in pleasure. When you moved your hips he lost focus on holding you for only a split second, but that was all you needed to remove your hands from his hold. You threw your now freed hands into his hair, tangling in his grown out locks.You pulled on the strands and he groaned raspily, sending vibrations into your clit that he was sucking on.

“Nhggh Innie, Alpha, oh my god.” At your words he increased his speed, thrusting his tongue deep into you, desperate to drink every drop he could. “Fuck, Innie, your gonna make me cum. Keep doing that and I’ll cum.” You wanted to be encouraging but were finding it hard with how intensely he ate at you. He did as you said, continuing his motions until he pushed you right over the precipice.

You felt the cord within you snap as you released all over his face and into his awaiting mouth. You gasped a cry when you came, your toes curling and legs shaking with rapture. The alpha didn’t stop once you had cum, though his slurping did get louder as he drank away your orgasm. You gave a weak push to his forehead in an attempt to make him stop and give you a breather. He didn’t stop. Instead he groaned sharply at you in response, and pulled you even closer. You weren’t sure that was even possible but he did it. Jeongin was so lost in you, he couldn’t get enough. His own hips were rutting themselves against his bed, acting on their own volition. You tried to push at him once again when the sucking became too much, but with lightning quick reflexes he slapped his hand against your thigh as he growled in warning. His blown out eyes pupils found yours as he looked up at you.

“Behave yourself, Omega. I will do as I please with you.” He smacked your thigh again, the sting making you hiss. “I had to wait long enough for you, I won’t wait any more. I’m taking what I want from you.” He didn’t wait for a response as he reburied his face within you.

This time he had begun to find a pattern. He was keeping track of every little moan and breath you released, learning exactly how to get you to make more of that delicious slick he craved. As he suckled and prodded it was only a matter of time before he had you on the cusp once again. Your grip tightened on his hair as you came with a breathless cry, the overstimulation becoming too much for you to handle and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Was he really a virgin? How could a boy who made you feel this good still be a virgin?

This time Jeongin let you push his face away, giving you a much needed moment to collect yourself. Your eyes were screwed shut and your body was trembling. As Jeongin pulled back he gazed at you with a predatory stare. He could see the quiver on your lips and the wetness of your tears. It was making him feral.

“Fuck, you are the most beautiful woman in the entire world.” The words have slipped from him involuntarily, but he meant everyone of them. “M so lucky you're my omega.” He kissed your inner thigh. You opened your eyes to see him staring right at you. “Say it.”

“Huh?” You were still coming down from your orgasm, your brain couldn’t keep up.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” He wasn’t asking, he was demanding. Alpha commanding it. This is the first time he had ever used his Alpha status in a command before. It made him feel powerful.

“M yours, Alpha.” You whimpered, giving into him. “Your omega.”

The second you finished speaking Jeongin turned his head and bared his sharp teeth, before digging them into the skin of your inner thigh. You screamed from the pinching “Jeongin!” He didn’t relent, instead he bit harder onto your skin. He was getting drunk on the way your blood filled his mouth. He wanted to make sure it would never fade.

After a few seconds he let go, lathing at the mark to soothe the marred skin. His tongue cleaned the area before he locked eyes with you once again. There was a hint of red that escaped the corner of his lips, and with a shaky hand you used your thumb to wipe away your blood from him. It was kind of surreal seeing him like this. Like a beast. You didn’t know he had it in him, even though he had shown you previously that he most certainly had it in him. You guessed that you should have taken him more seriously the last time he almost took you.

After wiping away the blood you cupped the side of his cheek affectionately, offering him a kind smile that made him purr. He slowly crawled up your body once again until he was face to face with you. His cock was red and leaking a steady stream of precum and you felt drip onto your stomach.

Jeongin only gave you a second before he pressed a hot kiss to your mouth, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him, both your slick and your blood. Quickly you wrapped your arms around him as he leaned his weight onto you. His hands came up to fondle your breasts, long fingers pulling at your nipples roughly. You squealed when he tugged just a little too hard, the pain making you jump. He huffed into your mouth at your movement.

“Fuck, Omega. I don’t think I can hold back from you any longer.” He shut his eyes tight when he pulled back to speak, as if trying to reign himself in. “I need to have you. Need to feel your pussy, baby.” He gave you no chance to respond, as he leaned back and with a bout of strength he flipped you onto your stomach. Once you were flipped he laid another harsh smack to you- this time on your ass, as he watched it jiggle for him. “Mm fucking hell. Present yourself to me, omega.” Another Alpha command you couldn’t resist even if you wanted too.

Even though you were already exhausted you used your strength to push yourself onto your knees and forearms, giving the alpha a clear view of your pussy from underneath you. And a view of the fresh bite on the inside of your thigh. The alpha groaned lustily when he gazed at the sight.

Jeongin settled himself behind you, running his fingers along your spine as if to soothe you. He leaned over you to coo in your ear “So pretty like this, omega. Never seen a prettier sight in my entire life.” You hummed in response, feeling your cheeks heat up. “ M gonna try not to be too rough with you, baby. Promise I’ll try.”

You nodded, “ Ok Innie.”

Suddenly his gentle touch was gone and replaced with a tight hold on your hips as he lined up with your opening. It took him a moment to line up correctly, having never shoved his dick into anything let alone a woman, it was quite daunting. Though he felt no nerves, only pure need and lust. Finally, without warning, he pushed his full length inside. You screeched at the sudden breach. Jeongin threw his head back in ecstasy, moaning loudly at the feeling of you wrapped around him. “Oh my fuckkkinnngg goooooood, omega. Fuck this feels so good.”

As soon as he said it he leaned over and bit you again, this time on the back of your right shoulder. You screamed again when he clamped on, “Jeongin, fuck!” You couldn’t deny how good it felt, the endorphins running through your whole body.

He dug his teeth further in as he started to thrust violently in and out of your abused hole. His pupils had turned into cat-like slits, and he was growling with each and every movement he made. The wet sound reverberated off the walls, echoes of the proof of your arousal filling the space. He knew deep down he needed to let go of your shoulder and calm down but he just couldn’t. He had never in his entire life felt this ravenous. He could see you white knuckling the sheets beneath you, and hear your labored breaths, but even so, he just could not stop.

His thrusts were sloppy as he rutted against you. He had found no rhythm in his hips, but despite that his angle was still hitting you just right. His cock was long and thick, just as an alphas should be. Little whimpers of his name and designation were leaving your mouth. When he heard his name come from you, Jeongin doubled down subconsciously, putting more of his weight into his thrusts and his grip hardened on your skin. The added pressure caused your arms to give out, and you fell face first into his sheets.

When you fell forward it made the alpha let go of your shoulder. The blood was dripping off the wound, rolling down onto his bed. He wanted to see this sight over and over again. “Precious little girl, look so good with my bite on you. Need to do it again.” His voice was thick and wet, as if he had a mouth full of your blood.

“S-slow d-down pl-eaassse” Your words were slurred as you practically begged him.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? What you signed up for when you begged the pack to let you help me? I thought you wanted to be my good little omega, don’t you baby?” His voice had a slight condensation to it, even through his raspy huffs.

The alpha then took his hands to spread your ass cheeks, getting even closer to you in the process. Now you had entered subspace for the second time in less than 24 hours, your mind was swimming and you couldn’t hold a coherent thought as Jeongin fucked into you. Jeongin was too caught up in his own pleasure to catch onto you slipping away. He scanned your back looking for another suitable spot, and once he had found one he leaned back onto you and bit into you for a third time. This time on the meat of your side by your ribs.

You didn’t hold back the deafening moan that escaped as you came, feeling a flood of emotions from both you and the alpha above you. You clenched around him tightly as you came, squeezing his dick and making him let out a howl as he let go of your skin. By now your back was littered with your smeared blood and his own saliva.

Before you even had a chance to finish shaking he pulled out of you suddenly, making you whine. Though almost instantly after your noise he used his strength to flip your body around so you could now lay on your back. He cared not for how your blood was sure to stain his sheets. You sighed in relief when you were laid down- no longer having to support yourself on exhausted limbs- but your solace was cut short when he pressed against you once again and thrust back into you. You wailed when he entered you again, your wet walls throbbing at the brutality of it.

Jeongin took your thighs and hauled them up as high as your body would allow, getting you into a mating press and holding onto your skin to keep you in that position while he pounds into your pussy.

For Jeongin this new angle was everything. He was so close to you, his cock hit even deeper than before and it felt so fucking good. The noises that escaped him were inhuman, he sounded more like a rabid dog than a person. He was licking fat stripes all over your neck, coating you even further with his saliva and his scent. He wanted you to drown in it.

“Fuck m’ gonna cum. Wanna cum inside you, omega. Wanna fill you up, fuck, wanna breed you.” He was blabbering as he neared his high, saying things he had never said aloud before. “Wanna give you sweet little babies, nngggg, keep you full of me forever. You wan it? Wan’ me to breed your pussy, omega?”

Fuck, his words were so filthy. Those added with the place you mentally free floated you found yourself subconsciously agreeing with everything he said. “Uh huh, br-breed me, alpha.”

The feeling was too much for the boy and with no warning he came inside of you. You shivered as you felt the heat from his cum coat your walls. It was thick and sticky as it shot deep within you. Thank god you had taken your birth control or you were sure he would have knocked you up. Especially with the way his knot inflated, keeping it all trapped within you.

Finally, he had stopped moving, choosing instead to fall on top of you and nuzzle into the side of your neck. He was panting deeply in your ear, the warmth of his breath being comforting somehow.

You had only a split second to enjoy the feeling, before you slipped in and out of unconsciousness.You were so worn out, your body just needed a moment to collect itself. The last thing you remember was the feeling of Jeongins fingers running up and down your sides while he caressed you gently as he felt his right mind return after his orgasm.

You could faintly hear his whispered apologies at the way he treated you and how good you are to him and how he loved you. It was enough to lull you into a peaceful nap. At least until his rut symptoms returned.

Chan was in his office down the hall, he had his door open fully so he was able to clearly hear you if you needed anything. He wasn’t nervous per say- more anxious to see how you handle Innie. If you could come out of it with the younger boy and remain in pleasant spirits, then he would know how well you could handle him when he eventually went into his rut. Chan honestly should have known that soon one of the alphas would go into an early rut. The fact that it was Jeongin really didn’t surprise him much, given how he had reacted when you went into heat. He felt a little guilty for not being better prepared. Chan knew eventually you would need a break, so he had asked Felix to make some goodies for you to enjoy later on.

Speaking of the beta, Felix was attempting to cheer himself up by baking. It was his favorite pastime so usually it brought him great joy. Though this time he couldn’t stop the pout that had settled into his features. To him, he felt like he had just gotten you back and now he’s being forced away again. He didn’t want to be selfish but fuck come on! He just misses his baby. But he’ll be damned if he won’t make you and Innie the best damn cookies you've ever had!

Minho was walking the property, attempting to calm his building irritation. ‘Why can’t she just fucking listen to me for once?’ He thought bitterly. It really stewed within him, making him more pissed off by the second. ‘Little girl just hasn’t learned her place yet, I’ll show her how to behave.’ His thoughts cut off when he was passing by the old greenhouse, hearing laughter and shuffling coming from within.

Minho peered inside to find Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin inside. The two betas were kneeled on the ground as they pulled out weeds and dead plants from the old soil. Changbin was wiping the windows and getting rid of the cobwebs. Hyunjin was the first to notice the new arrival.

“Hey Min!” Hyunjin smiled but it quickly faded when he noticed the scowl etched into the elders face. “What's wrong?” This caught the attention of the other two, who looked over with worry.

“Nothing. What are you guys doing?” He wanted to take the attention away from him.

“Felix mentioned that Baby wanted to start gardening, so we thought it would be a nice way to surprise her by getting this place cleaned up and ready for her.” Jisung beamed when he mentioned you, clearly excited about their plan.

“Hmm” Minho hummed, walking further into the tiny structure. “That’s very nice of you, Ji.” He patted the top of Jisungs head as if he was rewarding a dog, but Jisung was happy with it either way.

“I’m actually about to head out to the gardening center in town, if you want to join me Min. Then I was gonna meet up with a friend at the Gym. I think it would do you some good to get out of the house for a while, huh?” Chanbin offered, able to tell that Minho needed to get out and let off some steam.

Minho pondered for a second, weighing his options. That sounded better than sitting home and listening to you get railed by Jeongin all day. “Sure, that sounds nice. Let me go get my Gym bag.”

“Awesome. I’ll do the same and meet you by my car in a few minutes.”

Minho just saluted in response and went on his way to grab his stuff. Going up the stairs he could hear your cries and Jeongins moans, making him clench his teeth. Yeah, getting out of the house for the day would definitely do him some good.

All too soon you were awoken by Jeongin. It was the feeling of him scraping his teeth over the curve of your breast that lured you from your nap, the sharpness of his canine catching on your nipple making you jolt awake. You were still laid on your back, with Jeongin once again between your legs and he was leaning on his elbows over you.

“Innie, wha’ are you doin?” You asked groggily, your voice horse from all the previous moaning.

“Shh, omega.” He shushed, attempting to soothe you. “ Started feelin’ needy again, need my sexy omega to make me feel better, yeah?” His lips kissed on your skin, the spit from them leaving a glistening trail. “I’ll be gentle with you this time, promise.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was rutting against you with what was his attempt at delicacy. To be fair, it was much less relentless than the first round. He propped himself up further to rub his dick through your leftover wetness. You whimpered when his tip ran along your folds and caught on your clit.

“Mm, love those little sounds, baby. Think you can make more for me, please baby?” He licked on your flesh behind your ear, suckling there and leaving a deeply flushed mark. You nodded hesitantly, still feeling the tenderness between your thighs. “You’re so good to me, make me feel so good- so special and cared for.”

“It’s cuz I do care about you, Innie, more than I can express.” You lifted your tired arms to wrap over his shoulders, wanting him close. He rolled his hips against you again, this time with a touch more force, listening to the sloshing sound that came from where your bodies met. It was taking everything in him not to slam into you and take you again, but he knew you needed to be cared for right now. The alpha in him still needed to tend to you, even through his grueling rut.

“I know you do, can feel your love radiating off of you. I’ve never felt anything like it from anyone in my entire life, the pure passion that burns in you. Makes me weak, makes me crave you more and more; in a way I’ve never craved anything.” He never stopped his movements, finally finding a pattern that rubbed on you just right. You moaned wantonly and screwed your eyes shut, feeling another dam about to break within you. You just needed a touch more intimacy form him, and you knew you could get there.

“Alpha, please k-kiss me.” You had a tear welling up in your eye, but as soon as it fell down your cheek it was licked up by Jeongins warm tongue. Then he crashed his mouth onto yours, kissing you like it was his job. You tasted the salt from your tears on his lips. The kiss was exactly what you needed, and with a whine into his mouth you came again. You clenched around nothing as you shook.

Your shaking gave the alpha the nudge he needed, following right behind you and cumming on your folds and clit. He shuddered and panted against you as he groaned into your mouth. You stroked his hair as he came down, letting him ride it out for as long as he needed. By this point you were both just panting into each others mouths- not really kissing anymore.

After a few seconds he was able to pull back from you, finally climbing off of you and onto the bed next to you. He looked over at your sweaty form, taking in how fucked out you looked, how debauched he had made you over the last few hours. It made him coo at you and pull you into his embrace from the side. “Come here, sweetheart. Let your alpha hold you.”

You snuggled into him, ignoring the stickiness that settled on your skin and between your thighs. “How are you feeling, Innie?” You asked, kissing his chest.

“Much better for now, baby. All thanks to you.” He purred, making you keen in response. Silence settled over you both for a moment as you just breathed together. He was the one to break it though, “Ya know… I saw you last night.”

“Huh?” You were confused for a second, then it hit you. Last night. When you were getting railed by Chan and Felix in the living room. “You saw that?” You were slightly mortified.

He chuckled nervously, hoping you weren’t upset about it. “I didn’t mean to, but when I walked down the hall I couldn’t help it… I had to see.” He bit his lip, “It kinda set off my rut. I couldn’t get the images of you out of my head. Are you mad?”

You nuzzled into him, sniffling. “M’ sorry, Innie.”

“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who peeped!” He was bewildered by you. “Don’t cry, baby please.”

“You started an early rut because of me. All I do is cause you turmoil. I’m so sorry.”

“That's enough of that. No more crying.” He was exercising his new ability to alpha command you. One might say abusing his power over you, but who's really to say? “ None of it is on you. I’m just so happy to have you here for me, there's no one else I’d rather have lost my v-card too than you, omega.”

You were shocked as you dried your tears, “You mean you were a- a-”

“A virgin, yeah.” He looked sheepish at his admittance. “I guess I hadn’t really been interested in anyone else, maybe it was the romantic in me that was holding out for an omega to love. And looks like I found one, so I can’t be upset.” He winked clumsily.

“I'm just a little surprised. You made me feel.. So good.” Now it was your turn to be shy. You pushed your face into his chest even further as he chuckled.

“I was just following my instincts baby. I'm sorry that I got a little carried away with that first round. We should probably clean those bites before the rut starts to kick my ass again.” He kissed your head and squeezed you. You nodded in agreement and kissed his chest in response.

Changbin and Minho had stopped at the gardening center first. Changbin had a list given to him by Felix full of supplies and seeds that he knew you would need to get started. The two boys had even picked a few things they wanted you to plant, including a baby raspberry bush so Minho could make fresh jams. Then their next stop was Changbins gym that he visited regularly.

When they walked in they were immediately greeted by Changbins new friend. “Hey Bin! Took you long enough!”

“Eh, I would call it fashionably late.” He bro-hugged the beta man, then turned to introduce him to Minho. “Min, this is Wooyoung. He’s in town for the summer, we met at the diner right before we went camping.”

Wooyoung gave Minho a bright smile, showing off his pearly teeth. He stuck out his hand to shake. “What's up, nice to meet you.”

Minho subtly took in Wooyoung. He was slender and had a friendly face. There was a claiming mark etched onto his neck, clearly from an alpha given how deep it is. If Minho didn’t know any better he would say the other beta was generically average. But, Minho could see something hidden in his eyes, something almost sinister.

Still, Changbin had befriended him so he wouldn’t make any assumptions just yet. So he grabbed the outstretched hand and gave a firm shake. “Nice to meet you too.” He didn’t miss the subtle way the other man's nose flared when Minho got closer to him. He made a mental note of it.

Changbin clapped his hands together, “Alright, let's get started. We gotta get you boys into shape. You’re both too scrawny. Weights, chop chop.”

Minho groaned in protest, but it didn’t last long before he was being shoved by Bin, who was laughing at his pack mates displeasure. This time, Min did miss the borderline evil smirk that graced Wooyoung's face as he trailed behind.

A/N: Don't come for me about all the blood in mouths thing... In this universe it's not a harmful thing since they all bite each other :)

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan

Taglist- Closed

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

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Arsenal

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The wsl title race

The year you turn eighteen, is the year Arsenal win the wsl.

The year before had been your development year. The year that had you as the second choice keeper with only a few starts but somehow still more minutes than you were getting at Linköping.

This year, you were sharing time with the other keeper consistently. You were being brought out to play more often and you were making crucial saves to keep Arsenal in the title race.

It seemed a bit like fate that the two contenders were facing each other on the last day. It seemed a bit like fate that it was the two teams that had shaped your early childhood.

Arsenal vs Chelsea.

Both were level on points with Chelsea, as suspected, leading on goal difference.

You had to win.

Losing wasn't an option.

Especially at a packed out Emirates with you in goal.

Especially at a stadium where your mothers sat in the stands watching.

Eighteen years old and everything is resting on your shoulders.

It had been a bit of a surprise that you were chosen to start today when the other keeper was more experienced with the pressure of this but you refused to crumble under it.

You sigh, long and drawn out as you approach your goal.

Chelsea come out swinging.

Two shots within the first five minutes.

One off target and one straight into your hands.

Chelsea continue with their pressure, mounting a dangerous attack as you scramble to keep their shots out. You've given away more corners than you think you ever have during a game and you're barking out orders to your backline practically every minute.

You're not confrontational. You pride yourself on being calm and quiet off the pitch. But on the pitch, you know you're in charge of your backline and you're not afraid to yell instructions to make sure they don't fall apart.

Which is something they're clearly doing to Chelsea's building pressure.

You can't blame them either because everything comes down to this match. Everything comes down to these small moments as the ball streaks towards you.

You think, briefly as you go to the ground with the ball in your grip, that had you not played against some of these players during the recent international break then you would have let a few of these goals in.

But you've worked out some of their tells.

Like how the player that just shot at you favours going for the top right corner and how the one before always switches foot before they shoot.

It gives you enough time to prepare and enough time to move to make the save.

You pant for a moment, catching your breath before getting up and rolling the ball off to your centre-back.

Chelsea is brutal as usual and you just know that Morsa is up in the Arsenal friends and family box gloating.

She's never really given up her endless bragging about Chelsea.

You're not going to let her have the satisfaction though as you ready yourself for a goal kick, sending it streaking up the other end of the field and giving you another time to wipe the sweat from your brow with a towel.

For once though, Arsenal remain in possession and it's a split second decision that has the ball buried in Chelsea's net.

You celebrate with the fans, jumping and pumping your fist into the air.

You know what's coming next.

This whole season, it's been the same thing.

A brutal battle for possession, missed shots and corners until Arsenal finally slot it home. That's when the gloves come off and more goals are scored in quick succession.

It's happened time and time again all season and you're happy to see another two goals go in within the space of ten minutes.

Three goals up at the Emirates before half time.

Three goals up at the Emirates at ninety minutes.

Four goals up at the Emirates during injury time.

The final whistle goes and you abandon your goal, jumping straight into the team hug as it's announced that Arsenal are the winners of the wsl.

The fans are cheering and you've got the medal around your neck and your captain is raising the trophy.

Your eyes are focussed on where family and friends are being let onto the pitch.

Your Momma and Morsa are walking on with Frido.

Throughout your childhood, one of your earliest memories of your Morsa is her wearing a Chelsea jersey.

You'd been watching the match on tv with Momma.

Momma, to you, had always been Wolfsburg. She had been Wolfsburg then Chelsea then Bayern. She had never screamed Chelsea the way Morsa did though.

Morsa had always been Chelsea in your mind, even when you had all been at Bayern. It was irrefutable fact to you.

Magdalena Eriksson was always Chelsea. Chelsea defender. Chelsea player. Chelsea captain.

But here she was, in an Arsenal shirt, the crest clearly exposed on her chest. She was walking towards you, in your Arsenal shirt with your name on it on the day you've just won the wsl.

She joins the hug Momma has already swept you into, cocooning you in warmth.

"I'm so proud of you," Pernille says," You did so well today."

"So well," Magda echoes," Greatest keeper in the world!"

You laugh as you pull away. "I'm not quite there yet, Morsa."

"One day," She says to you," One day soon. You will be. I know it."

"She was telling absolutely everyone," Pernille laughs," She wouldn't shut up."

"She even started cheering for Arsenal," Frido tells you, sweeping you up into her own hug," I never thought I would see the day when Magda starts singing North London forever."

"No I didn't!" Magda's cheeks puff out in outrage. "Stop spreading lies!"

"I have it on video."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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natalievoncatte · 7 months

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Lena didn’t have time for traffic. She looked up from her phone and glared at the back of her driver’s head.

“Frank, why is it taking so long?”

“I’m not Frank, Ma’am. He called out this morning.”

Lena sighed. “And your name?”

“Vincent, ma’am.”

“Vincent, why is this taking so long?”

He signed. “Traffic, ma’am. Sounds like there’s a few blocks downtown closed. Supergirl is fighting some monster or alien or something.”

Lena stopped herself from smiling softly. “Ah, well then. Anyway, might as well see if you can find us a way around. I just don’t like to stand still.”

The driver nodded.

“What do you think about Supergirl, ma’am?”

Lena sighed. “Forgive me, Vincent, but I do have some work to concentrate on, here. I’m not usually one for chitchat. I hope you don’t mind.”

She sank back into her seat and flicked to the next email. There were a lot of fires to put out. Upcoming product launches, grant applications, university partnerships, charity events, plus her own work. She was becoming so strained lately that she was seriously considering stepping down from the direct CEO role so she could spend more time in the lab, where her real passion was.

Sometimes she almost sympathized with Lex; the life of a CEO could easily drive someone insane. Lena would rather spend her days in a labcoat or doing charity work than listening to another entitled silver spoon-

“You’re going the wrong way,” Lena said, sharply.

“I’m finding a way around,” said the driver. “You know, you never answered my question, before. What do you think of Supergirl?”

Lena stuffed her phone in her pocket and thrust her hand in her jacket, freeing the concealed revolver she carried in a shoulder holster under her left arm. The partition was already going up, sealing her in.

“What are you doing?”

“Answer my question,” the driver said, through a speaker.

Lena swallowed hard. “I think she’s a hero but I don’t fully trust her. I work with her when I feel it will help people. That’s all.”

“That’s not what your mother thinks.”

“Isn’t it?” said Lena. “What does she think?”

“Are you fucking her?”

Lena barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? That’s her question?”

“Are you fucking her like you debased yourself with that little tart in boarding school?”

There was silent beat.

“She told me to say that. She made me practice saying ‘tart’.”

He sounded almost bored.

“Fuck you,” Lena snapped. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it.”

“Nothing personal,” said the driver.

Lena sighed, almost annoyed at the hiss as a thin, chemical smelling gas hissed into the car, rising around her. She forced herself to stay calm, stoic, even her pulse raced.

“I’m not afraid of you, or her,” said Lena.

She coughed twice as the world irises shut around her, dragging her down into a cold, dreamless sleep.

When she snapped awake, she was alone. The partition was open, but the gun was gone from her holster. She felt around for it, then decided to clamber into the front seat, rolling over the seats facing her. The driver was gone, of course. Heavy chains were padlocked around the car, pinning the front doors shut.

There was a tape recorder sitting on the front seat. Lena ignored it as she looked around. The car was surrounded by metal walls, and a creep sense of dread rose up Lena’s spine. She fought the panic down, dropping into the driver’s seat.

Placing the tape deck on the dash, she pushed the okay button.

“Hello, Lena,” Lilian said, in her smooth, posh tones. Lena could hear that smarmy smirk forming around her words.

“You’re probably expecting an ultimatum or an offer. There will be none. I’m through trying to bring my husband’s wayward bastard back into the fold. When you betrayed Lex again, you burned your last chance. It’s time to take out the trash, Lena. I wish I could have throttled you in the cradle, but I didn’t know about you and your mother until it was too late. It’s time to correct that. It’s too bad we won’t be there to watch.”

Watch what?

Lena sat and waited. Whoever was sent to murder her had no sense of dramatic timing. She began rifling through the car, trying to take stock of what she had, what she could use to effect an escape. Breaking the-

A sharp shriek of metal cut through her thoughts. The side walls inched forward with a screech of metal, and Lena froze, terror piercing through her like an icy spike.

Oh.

Oh God.

The walls moved slightly more, and the rear view mirrors on both sides of the car exploded. The mechanism pushing the walls strained and groaned, and that was the only mercy she had.

She was in a car crusher. In the car.

The armored structure of her town car was too heavy for the machine to simply crush, but she had minutes at most. Metal groaned in protest, shrieking around her, and the glass quivered in the doors.

Oh God. Oh God.

She wasn’t going to panic. She wasn’t going to panic. She ripped open every single compartment and cubby she could find, but found only monogrammed glassware and a bottle of champagne. There was nothing.

A random, forgotten Lexosuit would be really useful right about now.

With a sudden shriek, the car began to collapse. The bulletproof glass buckled and shattered, pelting the front seat as she rolled into the back, and the doors buckled in, tearing loose from their hinges as the floor and roof began to fold.

A sudden, ringing, frankly stupid thought came into her head, but it was her best play.

Lena Luthor filled her lungs. She took in the biggest, deepest breath of her life, a breath worthy of a championship deep diver, and screamed at the top of her lungs, until it hurt.

“SUPERGIRL!”

She had to scramble into the back seat as the engine began pushing through the dashboard, ripping apart plastic and leather, splintering buried wood. Lena ducked as the roof crumpled and dove in, like the roof of a dragon’s mouth crushing down to pulp her. She closed her eyes and curled in on herself, hoping it would at least be over fast.

A single ringing thought bit through the fear.

Oh God. Kara’s waiting for me at the restaurant.

Around her metal shrieked, and she heard the vast clang of rending machinery. The inexorable crushing stopped, the bucking limousine going still. Lena opened her eyes, peering through her fingers like a terrified child, and watched in awe as one of the crushed plates tore loose from its moorings and went flying off into the afternoon air.

Hands, strangely delicate, punched through armor plating as if it were cobwebs and ripped the broken shell of Lena’s limo apart, spreading it in every direction.

Lena had never seen Supergirl so panicked. Her eyes were too wide with abject terror, and she seized Lena in her arms, winding her cape around her, and rocketed loose from the car.

Lena’s words were lost to the wind. Supergirl was blasting into the air, flying incredibly fast- too fast. Helpless, she clung to the hero for dear life, feeling woozy as the blood drained from her skull.

She thought, oh, come on, as she passed out again.

When her eyes drifted open, Lena was lying on the ground. Groaning, she sat up slowly, feeling every movement, and realized she’d been lying on a spread red blanket with her suit jacket piled up under her head for a pillow, and she was in the woods. The sun had yielded to the sky, and someone had started a roaring fire a few feet away.

Grateful for the warmth, Lena edged closer. As she did, she realized that she was sitting not on a blanket but on Supergirl’s cape.

Blinking, she looked around.

Supergirl had her back to a tree, curled up on herself with her head hanging between her knees, arms wrapped around to cover her face, and she was sobbing quietly. Lena stared, open-mouthed.

“Supergirl?” she breathed.

Supergirl didn’t respond. Lena rose to her feet, wobbling, and discarded her heels before walking across a bed of soft leaves. She crouched in front of the weeping Kryptonian, stunned when the other woman flinched.

“Supergirl?”

“Lena?”

Her voice was small and soft, all the bravado and righteous authority gone. She sounded strangely human.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I think I am,” said Lena. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

“No,” she sniffed. “A Tauraxian hit me in the head with a greyhound bus. Tuesday afternoon at the office.”

Lena laughed softly, and sat down. “I’m sure. What just happened?”

Supergirl swallowed hard as she looked up. “I panicked. I saw what was happening and I lost control. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt you.”

Lena put a tentative hand in on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“More than you realize,” Supergirl sighed.

“I’m here,” said Lena.

She sat down. Supergirl looked away from her, staring I to the fire a few feet away. In starlight, with the firelight caressing her delicate features and sparkling in her blue eyes, it was impossible to miss how hauntingly beautiful she was… and how haunted herself. Supergirl looked older than her years, a deep sorrow in her eyes that Lena had never seen before.

“I’m claustrophobic,” Supergirl explained. “Not the kind of thing that you advertise.”

“We all have our fears. I have some of my own.”

Lena pushed down thoughts of a pale hand sliding beneath churning black water and shuddered.

With teary eyes, Supergirl looked at her.

“I can’t. I can’t have fears. I’m Supergirl. I have to be perfect, set an example, all that crap. I’m the perfect woman who came from the sky to do only good.”

The perfect woman, Lena thought, consuming the firelit beauty before her. No one would debate that.

Well, Lena would, maybe. There was someone more perfect, someone soft and kind with a devastating smile and laughing eyes tinged with strange sorrow. She hoped Kara wasn’t worrying about her.

It was funny how Lena always thought of Kara when Supergirl was around. Guilt, maybe. Foolish guilt; Kara was a far shore that Lena would never reach, even if she’d gladly sink in the attempt.

“Before I came to Earth, I drifted in the phantom zone in my pod. There were things outside. The pod was the size of a coffin, a tiny space to spend all that time. The phantoms would claw and slash at the canopy and the walls. I was awake for days hearing them trying to get in. Sometimes there were bigger things out there, wrapping arms around it and trying to crush their way in.”

Lena nodded. “That sounds beyond terrible. It’s okay for you to be scared after that.”

Supergirl nodded. “I can barely handle elevators sometimes.”

A jolt went through Lena, something familiar, like a word on the tip of her brain.

“I get scared when other people are enclosed, too,” said Supergirl. “When I saw something trying to crush you, I just lost it. It’s different when it’s you.”

Lena swallowed hard, trying to suppress the shiver that coursed through her body and made the small hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Back in high school, the other girls used to bully me,” said Supergirl. Once, they locked me in a closet in the locker room. I screamed and screamed until until someone let me out. Alex was furious, she…”

Supergirl went quiet, trailing off. Her eyes went wide and she jolted back.

Lena sat there for a second, unsure why…

Wait.

Alex?

High school? Supergirl went to high school?

With Alex? Alex Danvers?

Lena choked down a gasp, the wheels whirling in her head. She looked over and met Supergirl’s eyes, studying them. Her. The way the light played across her soft features, her honey hair, the little scar above her eye.

“Hi, Lena.”

“Hi, Kara,” Lena whispered.

Neither of them moved. Lena wondered briefly if Kara had ever planned to tell her, how she might have planned it. Probably not like this. Her throat bobbed.

Lena shifted closer, until they were hip to hip in a seated hug, Kara crying softly on Lena’s shoulder, powerful arms wrapped around her.

“I was scared,” said Lena. “I was afraid I was going to die and you’d be sitting at the table at the restaurant waiting for me.”

“Never,” said Kara. “I’ll always protect you.”

“And I’ll always protect you. Nobody is ever going to shove my Kara in a closet ever again.”

Kara let out a little gasp.

“Can we stay here for a while? Talk? Just you and me?”

Kara nodded. She stood and gathered up her cape as Lena moved close to the fire, and sat down, wrapping it around them both. Lena let her head fall on Kara’s shoulder.

“This makes a nice blanket.”

“It is a blanket. My cousin was swaddled in it when he came to Earth. Don’t worry, I washed it.”

Lena laughed softly, awkwardly trying to decide where to put her hands. She settled on being bold, and put her arm around Kara’s waist. Kara slipped her arms around her shoulder and pulled her in, and Lena hugged her back, tucking herself into Kara’s shoulder.

They sat for a while as the fire burned down low. It was full dark and the fire was nothing but coals.

“I was going to tell you. I wanted to.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” Kara sighed.

Lena swallowed hard, trying not to feel her blood rushing in her ears.

“You know,” she said. “You could kiss me right now, if you wanted. That seems like the kind of thing the hero does after saving the girl.”

“I could?” said Kara.

“You could.”

“Like this?”

Kara was trying to be smooth, and it made it hard for Lena not to giggle. She tipped Lena’s chin up with soft fingers and guided herself in, bringing their lips together. Kara kissed her softly, tentatively. Lena kissed her back just as softly, afraid this moment would shatter if she pressed too hard.

It was easy to shift herself into Kara’s lap, even before Kara lifted her there. Lena knew she was strong but not Kryptonian strong, and it it sent a thrill through her. She liked it.

She liked touching Kara, too. Liked feeling the bunching muscles flex under under hands, the softness of her hair, the way she gasped when she felt Lena’s lips on her throat.

“Never have I wished so badly for a tent and sleeping bags,” said Lena.

“And marshmallows to toast!” said Kara.

“Do you ever stop thinking about food?” Lena giggled.

Kara looked at her intently, and Lena shivered, not from the cold. She’d longed for Kara to see her like that, look at her like that.

“Sometimes,” Kara whispered. “Sometimes I think about other things.”

“We should probably go back,” said Lena. “We have people who are probably looking for us.”

Kara nodded.

“Do you want this to be… do you want us to be?”

“Kara,” said Lena, “I would have asked you out a year ago if I thought I had a chance. I thought you just wanted to be friends.”

Kara swallowed. “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?”

Lena smiled softly. “Yes.”

Kara rose and clasped her cape to her shoulders, then gently brought Lena to her feet and lifted her from the ground, holding her close.

“Not so fast this time, okay?”

“Okay,” said Kara, lifting them back into the sky.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #campfire confession #accidental identity reveal #softcorp

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arijackz · 7 months

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PICK A CARD: What You're Walking Away From and What You're Walking Toward

⚸ "Just like moons and like suns, with the certainty of tides, just like hopes springing high, still I’ll rise." —Maya Angelou

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. I wish you love and light through this renewing period. <3

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

♦︎ Pile One ♦︎ (3oP, 2oS rev., the tower, the star)

⚄ The cards are taking a while to come out, I feel like whatever seeds you’re planting, the bulk of the work is being done internally, subconsciously, or in your sleep. ⚄ With the three of pentacles, you are reevaluating the role your social connections play in your life and how exactly they’ll fit into the puzzle pieces of your future. For most of you, these are friendships. A few of you, romantic relationships. Another subset of you, there is an emphasis on the relationships you've built with the people you share a common goal with. This can be for work, clubs, hobbies, etc. ⚄ You are moving out of 5th house-type friendships (here for a good time, not a long time) and entering 7th and 11th house partnerships. These unions go beyond just having fun. Deep connections are developed so you can have a support team to lean on during the upcoming highs and lows of the 6th, 8th, and 10th house. They hold more significance and the people who reside in this area of your life should be thoroughly vetted. ⚄ Two of swords rev., you are battling with an internal decision regarding the company you keep and struggling to center yourself. This tower moment is forcing you to vet. To take action. Reflect on whether these people help fulfill your life purpose and achieve your goals or just hinder them. Reassess your relationships according to what you want out of life. ⚄ I was trying to keep this pac short and down to 3 cards. But apparently not?? The star just flipped out, reaffirming that there's a lot of good shit in the works. Stepping away from certain people will align you with the next phase of your life. Bigger and better is coming in. Some of you are settling in relationships in fear of being alone. ⚄ Staying with connections you have outgrown will leave you stagnant. The universe has big plans in store for you, your life is going to take off soon. It will not wait for your friends to hop aboard the ride. You cannot take everyone with you. Your relationships are coming into question because the universe is doing some pruning for you. ⚄ I see people “jumping ship”, maybe you feel the people around you are not there for you during your rough patches? Yeah, connections built on shallow foundations are dissolving. ⚄ The king of cups popped up out of nowhere. You are falling out of alignment with the people you’re with and leaving them will push you towards kinder souls who are more emotionally nurturing. ⚄ Mercurial, Uranian, and lil bit of Jupitarian energy. I’m talking directly to you Virgo, Gemini, Aquarius, and Pisces placements. I call you out with love of course. This is my sidereal big 3 after all<3 ⚄ The star is a very hopeful card, filled with excitement and abundance. You are driving on the road to your destiny. There are only a few seats left in the car, choose wisely. ⚄ Advice: Have faith in your intuition and discernment. I say this in every pac lmao. You’re definitely on the right path (you’re leading up to the star), but this transitioning period is going to be uncomfortable because you are leaving connections behind. When we exit our comfort zones and leave people, we tend to gaslight ourselves and downplay the situation or allow fear to derail our judgment. You are too close to your dreams to let old connections hold you back. You have a deep knowing that these connections will not survive the ride to the top, listen to your intuition and let go of what is no longer serving you. Be selfish if need be.

I only bark once.

♦︎ Pile Two ♦︎ (temperance, the magician, the hermit, knight of swords)

⚄ I felt a puff of air in my left eye. The left side of the body is traditionally associated with the intuitive and receptive feminine. You are in a waiting period right now and are receiving intuitive downloads and messages. Your connection to the metaphysical is strengthening. Be inquisitive at this time and assess your life in a higher light, you are being blessed with the ability to see the hidden and the unforeseen. The synchronicities you are seeing right now are not a coincidence. (Extra confirmation if you’re seeing repetitive 3’s, 5’s, 8’s, triangles, stars, and the infinity symbol)

⚄ Lmfao I was planning on only pulling three cards but the life you’re sowing right now is HUGE. 3 major arcanas back to back and then a court card?? You are being prepped for a whirlwind of adventure. You’re in your own world fucking COOKING.

⚄ The slow period you’re in is forcing you to build a foundation of balance, patience, and introspection. Boring. I know. But it is crucial to your development. I said it best in my last pac so i’ll say it again here, Whatever you build in this lifetime will be built slowly and have a solid foundation because your legacy is meant to withstand the test of time and last long after you leave this Earth. This period you’ve spent waiting is you getting your ducks in a row and sowing your seeds for the next evolution of you.

⚄ Shoutout to my Pisceans and Saturnians. If you have resonated with this so far, definitely go check out pile 4 of my ✩Glow Up✩ pac because there are a lot of gems in there for you.

⚄ You are creating your future reality in this introspective period. I feel for a lot of you, your self-work is centered around deconstructing the old perception of yourself and building your identity up from scratch. You are either beginning, in the heat of, or ending a long period of self-discovery and establishing your self-esteem.

⚄ With the knight of swords at the end of the spread, you are approaching the end of the tunnel with renewed vigor and resolute faith in your capabilities. I’m seeing your life in reference to that religious story, (Lord forgive me, I am telling it wrong and forgot the details 😭) where the man gets locked in a cave and starved, expected to either be dead or too feeble by the time his sentence is over. Instead, he comes out stronger than ever and with twice the unwavering spirit he had before his time in the cave.

⚄ This is what’s happening to you, you are finding inner strength and willpower that is going to propel you forward in your destiny. And you will not fail. It’s not even possible, the resolve you’ve built for yourself will carry you faithfully through all the bullshit life will throw at you.

⚄ Advice: None. You got this in the bag,just remember that you only lose battles when you retreat. The energy you’re cultivating for your near future is the knight of swords, a character who will never retreat. Therefore, you will never truly lose.

"I was born underwater with three dollars and six dimes"

♦︎ Pile Three ♦︎ (9oS, the hanged man, 6oS, 10oW)

⚄ Off the bat, you need to surrender any hangups you have surrounding your future. I picture your mind running 24/7 telling you all the ways you’ll fail as you work tirelessly. Or, you want so desperately to put your plans into action, but a buried subconscious fear prevents you from moving forward, adding more stress on your shoulders. It is weighing heavy on your mental health and causing severe anxiety that is inhibiting you from much-needed rest and healing. This is the season of surrender, it’s okay to let go and let the current wash you away. As soon as you release your fear of making mistakes, you’ll learn the flow of the waves.

⚄ Two of pentacles is at the bottom of the deck, I feel your stress stems from a fear of financial insecurity and the overwhelming pressure of having to plan a sustainable career yourself. A lot of your priorities in life are demanding your attention and it is becoming a heavy burden.

⚄ I am going to be blunt because I care. You gotta stop giving a fuck. Your anxieties are paralyzing you. You need to sip a little metaphorical “fuck it” juice. I am just now getting out of the mental space you’re in. The only thing that helped me step out of my fear-induced paralysis (which lasted a long and dark 6-years), was to reaffirm that no matter what decision I make, I will come out prosperous. In fact, the more you stress about the future and the more control you try to take, the further you push your desires away, which will only fuel your anxiety bugs.

⚄ Have faith that no matter where you land, you have the power to turn any less-than-ideal situation into something bountiful. The bird does not fear the branch breaking because it has faith in its wings. Not making a choice at all is worse than picking the wrong one. You’ll win some, you’ll lose some, all situations bear fruit, just keep putting one foot in front of the other. This too shall pass.

⚄ Advice: I know it is easier said than done, but ground yourself in the present. Release yourself from the worries of the future and the nightmares of the past. Stop stressing about upcoming due dates while you eat and stop reaming yourself for past mistakes while you’re out with friends. Tune yourself into what is happening before your very eyes. Turn your brain off and mindlessly do something. Anything that brings your attention to the present. Don’t even worry about being productive. Watch tv, color, dance, cook, anything but sitting and stressing. This sounds crazy to say in today’s work culture but trust me, stressing about being productive or pushing yourself to “grind” will be your downfall. Your body needs to regulate. With the six of swords, you have to make the conscious decision to walk away (stop stressing and allow the situation to run its course) from what is mentally plaguing you. These are the seeds you’re sowing, you are on the path of releasing your burdens. I’m proud, we can do this!

"Mom, Meet Mary Jane the Milf!"

(representative of the whole relax message in your pile. i had fun making the board, this is not an endorsement.)

♦︎ Pile Four ♦︎ (6oS, king of pentacles, 7oP, 5op)

⚄ Cards went a lil buckwild here. There are a lot of pentacles in this spread, I feel like you are dissolving a lack mindset. What you desire and your perspective of success is evolving. You are stepping out of a false idea of wealth. You might have had a habit of undermining the talents and resources you have and comparing them to what others have.

⚄ This is my doomscroll pile. My silly little rotters. Looking at people with nice things and thinking why can’t I have that? Looking at attractive people and going I’ll never be as pretty as them, I am cursed with these looks. Looking at people who showcase their talents and saying, oh I could never do that, they’re so much better than me.

⚄ You are realizing just how harmful these thoughts have been to you. You had curated a mindset that would have you look at people and then immediately place yourself as inferior to them in some way. This shapes a reality where you feel constantly inadequate, thus always in need of something. This constant feeling of need prevents you from seeing the resources you already have within and building off of those.

⚄ Congratulations, you are stepping away from that lack energy. You’re beginning to see the value in yourself and redefining what it means to be prosperous. Now it's, Oooo, that girl looks so cool playing the bass, this encourages me, I bet I could learn an instrument too. Instead of, “Oh look, another person doing something with their life while I sit here and rot. What is wrong with me, why can’t I be as cool as them.”

⚄ Do you see how the latter self-talk is just draining the life out of you? It sets you up for failure before you can even try.

⚄ When I say a false idea of wealth, I mean the superficial things you believed would bring you fulfillment. When you were in that dark space, you looked at pretty girls and believed that if you looked like them or got the attention they got, you would finally be happy. Now, you’re on a journey of discovering things more sincere to your identity to find fulfillment in.

⚄ You are discovering your interests, hobbies, etc. Anything that boosts your self-esteem and gives you a sense of value. You are about to fall in love with yourself and all the endless capability of creation you hold.

⚄ Advice: Comparison is the thief of joy. Unfortunately, with social media, every day is a pissing contest about who can have the most and be the best. I’d bet money that the most attractive, smartest, and most talented person you know is sizing up the person next to them and getting a false sense of satisfaction or self-hate. Don’t fall into that. Break the societal cycle and look inward for satisfaction. Compete with yourself. Be the only person you are trying to impress.

There is beauty in my unraveling

Let me know what piles you pick!

#pick a card #pac #tarot #tarot reading #astrology observations #arijackz #advice #new moon

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lunarsturniolo · 9 months

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Body Shots | Frat!Chris

Not in the same universe as Pillow Talk Chris. Just another Frat!Chris au lol

Thank you @querenciasturniolo for proofreading!! This is longer than most of my fics, and there was no way I'd be able to properly check for mistakes.

I nod slightly, my fingers fidgeting with the button of my pants, “You gotta stop moving,” he says, making me still.

He hums a nod at my obedience, his mouth widening into a smile, “Look at you,” he says, “So pretty.”

My hand starts twitching again, a sign of excitement. Chris gently takes my wrist with his free hand and holds it down at my side, “You gotta stop.”

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I nodded again. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Chris nods, “It’s okay. Just stay still,” he teases.

Chris teaches Y/N how to take body shots (and it escalates)

Warnings: alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), praise kink if you squint, cnc if you don’t read carefully. MDNI

Masterlist

“Hi,” I gave a sweet smile over the bar, “Can I please have another shot of tequila?”

Chris was working the bar today. After an overwhelming Wine Wednesday and a slightly unsuccessful mixer on Thursday, he didn’t want to go too overboard at the party his frat was hosting. So, there Chris was, working behind the makeshift bar, pouring shots and distributing Truly’s to the girls who were still there.

It was nearing 3 am, and the crowd was beginning to die down. Chris overheard my request and nudged the other bartender, “Got it,” he said, effectively switching places with him.

Chris leans over the bar, his left forearm resting in a few drops of alcohol as he leans closer to me, “You gonna let me take one with you?”

I look up at him with an innocent smile, “It’s gonna cost you.”

He barks a laugh in my direction, “You’re literally in my house,” he says.

I nod, “I am.”

“So you should be giving me somethin’.”

I give Chris a long look and leave a pregnant pause, “I might be open to something.”

Chris pushes himself off the bar and disappears into the kitchen. I take the moment alone to look around the house. I spotted my friend Kylie, whom I lost to a group of girls about 10 minutes ago when No Hands started playing. With a bit of flair, I watch as the DJ starts to play Sexy Bitch, “How fitting,” Chris says, finding his way back to the counter.

I roll my eyes with a small smile playing on my lips, “What do you want?”

“Wanna do body shots?” he asks with a smirk playing on his lips. He holds up his right hand. He was still carrying the bottle of Jose Cuervo. But now, in the palm of his hand, I see a lime peeking out.

My smile falters slightly, “I’ve never done a body shot.”

“Has anyone done one off of you?” He asks.

I shake my head, Chris’s eyes widening with amusement. “First time for everything,” he mumbles. He reaches under the bar, producing a wild berry Truly and passing it to a girl behind me that I hadn’t noticed.

“Who said I wanted to do a body shot?” I tease.

Chris shrugs, “You want to do one. I know you.”

I fold my lips in on themselves, “Okay. Teach me.”

He smiles victorious. “Do you wanna get on the counter?”

I look around once again. The room, by far, isn’t crowded, but there are people here you know you’re going to see again.

“Do I have to?” I finally ask, “It’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Why would that be embarrassing?” Chris deadpans.

“Because everyone can see me.”

“Who the fuck cares?” Chris says, “Now get on the counter, or I’ll spread you out myself.”

I decide it’s in my best interest to get on the counter. I step up into the kitchen before hoisting myself up onto the counter. Chris tells me to lie down, so I oblige. I can feel remnants of the bar from the night staining my bare skin and weighing down my hair. I cringe slightly at the thought before turning to look at Chris, my cheek resting on the cool surface of the bar.

“So, there are two routes I could go,” Chris begins, “I could pour this into your belly button and take the shot out of there, or I could just use a shot glass and call it a day.”

My eyes widened, “Yeah, can we do the second one?”

With a chuckle, Chris nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinkin’, too.”

He turns around and quarters the lime over the sink. He reaches across the bar, hovering a lime wedge over my face. He taps it gently against the parting of my lips, “Open up for me, yeah?”

I nod and widen my mouth, softly biting into the lime, a bit of juice rolling into the back of my throat, “Good girl,” he commends.

I roll my eyes, a slight mumble emitting from the back of my throat due to the lime I’m holding, “Shut up,” I tell him.

Chris gently guides my hands down to my sides and nudges my hip, “Can I lift this up a little?”

I hum a reply, the lime starting to become a proper hindrance. Chris gently tugs at my shirt, making me arch my back so he can lift it to my breasts. My hands itch at my side as he plants a series of wet kisses, making a line from right under my belly button to the waistband of my pants.

A blush forms on my cheeks as his nose nips under my pants, raising the waistband slightly and giving him a view of the black lace panties I had worn to the frat tonight.

He reaches for the salt behind him, grabs a small pinch of it, and sprinkles it over the slight sheen of saliva that is left behind. “Squeeze my hand if you want to stop,” he tells me, putting my hand in his.

Using his free hand, he grabs a small orange glass and flips it upright. He laxly pours a double shot of tequila into the glass, watching me wither under his gaze.

My right hand landed on my stomach, tapping a pattern next to the line of salt, trying my best not to make a mess around me. The music is still going, and I’m sure Kylie is about to text me, telling me she found a guy to go home with. Chris is still distributing drinks to the girls who are coming up to the bar, and I’m sitting with a ball of anticipation in my stomach.

He returns to me with a shy smile, “Sorry, mama, I’m here for real.”

I nod slightly, my fingers fidgeting with the button of my pants, “You gotta stop moving,” he says, making me still.

He hums a nod at my obedience, his mouth widening into a smile, “Look at you,” he says, “So pretty.”

My hand starts twitching again, a sign of excitement. Chris gently takes my wrist with his free hand and holds it down at my side, “You gotta stop.”

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, and I nodded again. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Chris nods, “It’s okay. Just stay still,” he teases.

He gives me one last look before leaning down, his tongue making contact with my stomach. I flinch at the contact, slightly unexpecting, and Chris looks up at me through his eyelashes.

I drink in the sight of him, remembering every detail as his hands push me down against the table. His hair has fallen over his eyes, the dark ringlets tickling my stomach with his painfully slow movements.

Chris lets go of my left wrist, his hand taking hold of the shot he poured. My newly free hand moves without thought, entangling itself into his hair, tugging his further up my body in anticipation.

He hums out a moan with a taunting smile on his face as his tongue dips into my belly button, lingering for an extra moment. The salt sticks to his tongue as he brings the shot glass up to his lips, wrapping them around the glass before quickly throwing his head back. His jaw flexes as he stretches his neck, and I watch as his Adams Apple moves as he swallows.

Chris squeezes my hand as he swallows the bitter flavor, his lips coming down for mine to grab the lime. In a moment of weakness, I suck the lime further into my mouth so he has no choice but to graze my lips with his.

As anticipated, Chris’s lips make lingering contact with mine. His tongue pokes out and wedges itself beneath my lip and into my mouth, grabbing the bottom of the lime and pushing it into his mouth.

Moving back slightly, I keep him from moving any further with a hand in his hair. With hooded eyes, he looks at me as he bites into the lime, some of the juice falling into my mouth and some of it dripping down his chin in a sensual manner.

He turns his head slightly, silently asking to move. I let go of his hair, and he turned his head, spitting the lime out of his mouth and onto the kitchen floor. He looks at me with a smile, “Do you still want your shot?”

“Will it also be a body shot?”

“Whatever you want,” He tells me.

I pull his hand in between us, guiding his ear to my lips, “What I want is to go to your bedroom.”

Chris looks at me, “Beg me.”

“Please, Chris, I wanna go to your room.”

He smirks, “Again,” he tsks.

I roll my eyes in annoyance, “I’m not begging.”

“Then you’re not getting in my room,” he replies.

I leave a long pause before letting out a big sigh, “Please, babe? Can you take me to your bedroom?”

He hums in acceptance, “What do you wanna do in the bedroom, mama?”

I look at him and swallow harshly, “I want you to touch me.”

“But what do you want to do?”

My voice wavers into a whisper, “I want to take a shot off you,” I tell him.

“Mmmm, that’s a good girl,” Chris says, “Always telling me what you want.”

I blush, and Chris moves away to start cleaning up the kitchen. I see him gather a new shot glass, a lime, and some salt before helping me off the counter with a hand on the small of my back.

Together, we walk towards the staircase that’s slightly blocked off- he keeps a hand on the small of my back, nodding a slight hello as we pass his friends.

He lets me in front of him when we get to the stairs, watching my backside as I make my way up, stopping outside his room and waiting for him to unlock it.

With a quick twist of his wrist, the key had unlocked his door, and he led me into his bedroom, sitting on his bed with his knees apart. I made my way closer to him, standing between his knees and giving him a shy smile.

“Can you take your shirt off?” I ask him.

He nods, his hands falling to the hem of his henley, pulling it off in a swift motion, “Where do you want me?” he asks.

I cock my head as I look at him contemplatively, “Maybe just lay down.”

He nods and does as I say, “Can I, um-”

“You want me naked?” he asks.

My cheeks turn hot at his words, “Can I take off your pants?” I ask him.

He laughs at my shy demeanor, “You gotta get naked for me too, then, ma.”

Without a second thought, I drop my hands to my jeans, fiddling with the button before allowing them to pool at my ankles. His hands find the hem of my shirt, this time, pulling it over my head gently. He rests his hands on my back before letting me unbuckle his belt.

“Chris,” I whine lightly.

“Yeah?”

Instead of replying, I push him down onto his bed. His head stayed propped up by some pillows, and he brought his hands behind his head so he could watch me. The two of us were naked, and I finally decided to let the looks of him sink in.

His cock was sporting a healthy erection, just as arousal was beginning to pool between my legs- we were clearly both turned on.

“C’mere,” he says, motioning for me to step towards him. “Wanna see if my baby’s worked up for me.”

I happily make my way over to Chris’s head, legs spread slightly for him to feel my cunt. Without a moment's rest, the pads of his fingers made their way to my bare skin, feeling the warm, plush skin and rubbing my clit slightly to create some friction. I moan lightly at his touch before he pulls his fingers away and rests them on my bottom lip.

“You wanna taste yourself for me, mama?” he asks.

I dip my chin as a nod, his fingers now resting on the parting of my lips. My tongue darts out at his long digits, coating them lightly as I taste myself on his fingers, making Chris moan in appreciation.

I hollow out my cheeks before taking his fingers out of my mouth, a small smile growing on my face.

“Gonna use this on my stomach, okay?” he asks, referring to the fingers I had in my mouth seconds prior.

Wordlessly, I nod as Chris drags his fingers down his happy trail- from the bottom of his belly button to the base of his cock- at an agonizingly slow pace. My eyes watch his fingers desperately as they mimic the exact path my tongue will take.

I clear my throat, “Salt?” I ask.

“Yeah, baby. Add some salt.”

I took the metal salt shaker that made its way onto his nightstand and used it to disperse salt into a thin line along his body. Chris reaches under his bed and produces a bottle of tequila, “From my stash,” he informs me.

I laugh, filling up a shot glass most of the way, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the thought of taking another double tonight.

I pick up a lime wedge and hand it to Chris. Dismissively, he sets it back on the table, “You won’t need that. Promise,” he tells me, a hand making its way into my hair and pulling me close to his mouth.

I can feel his breath fanning on my face as I study his eyes up close for the millionth time tonight, “Okay,” I agree.

Chris hums with satisfaction, “You’re such a good, obedient girl for me, baby. Always listening to me so well.”

This time, I hum in reply, the praise making me feel extra warm. “I wanna listen to you, Chris,” I tell him. My lips pucker up slightly before placing a small, aromantic peck on his lips.

He smiles at me, “Good idea, baby.” He lets my hair go loosely, allowing me to lean back. “You’re gonna tell me if anything is too much, right?” he confirms.

“Yeah, Chris. I’ll let you know. You get to use me until I say otherwise.”

I watch as a satisfying grin spreads on his face, “You’ve always been my favorite girl, you know?”

With a small laugh, I bring my face down to be level with his naval. He gathers my hair into a makeship ponytail in one hand and holds my shot glass for me in another, “I need to see you, mama.”

I smile, my tongue darting out to lick my lips, “Okay.”

Looking at Chris out of the corner of my eye, I bring my tongue to the beginning of the line of salt, licking slowly down to the base of his cock. My left-hand finds his balls, fondling with them lightly as I make my way down to his cock.

He lets out a moan, “When you get there, keep your tongue out, baby. I wanna feed you your shot.”

I turn my head towards him, giving him a slight nod, my tongue still working its way down his body. Giving the base of his cock a light kiss, I tilt my head up for Chris to pour the shot.

Feeling the alcohol glide down my throat immediately, without the need to swallow or for a chase, made me gag lightly. I closed my mouth, savoring the flavor of salt on my tongue before Chris moved my head.

Directing me down further to where his cock is, he rests my cheek on his left thigh. My tongue darts out, lapping around the base of his cock as my hand continues to play with his balls.

“That’s right, baby,” he praises me, “You can get up on the bed if you want.”

With a nod, I crawl up onto the bed, my mouth moving from the base to the tip.

I begin slowly licking the tip, watching the precum develop, and swallowing it as it comes. With a keen fascination, I loosen my jaw and begin to put his cock into my mouth.

Chris lets out a groan, “Fuck.” He reaches around his body, one hand finding my breasts. He rolls my nipple between his fingers and fondles my breasts, eliciting a soft moan from the back of my throat and around his tip.

I continue to push his cock into my mouth before I gag lightly and call it my limit. My hand jerks off what is left outside my mouth, and Chris begins to lose it.

His hands are tugging at my hair, and he is gently pushing my head forward onto his cock, loving the way my throat closes around the tip when I gag. Chris was in a state of euphoria.

“You good, mama?” he chokes out, pulling me off his cock slightly for reassurance.

Instead of verbally answering, I push his cock further into my throat, humming a reply, sending vibrations up through his body.

My tongue flatted against the underside of his cock, my head moving faster as I prompted Chris to fuck my mouth. His thrusts grew from wary to forceful as I began to gag, drool, and moan around him with each movement he made.

Tears grew at the brim of my eyes from the intensity, “Do you like it when I’m rough with you, mama?”

Unable to reply, I affectionately squeeze his thigh, “I know, baby. It feels so good to please me, huh?” he says. His hand leaves my nipple, entangling it into my head roughly so he has more control to ride out his orgasm.

With an especially deep thrust, I let out a long groan, my eyes rolling back slightly with satisfaction. Chris’s cock begins to twitch in my mouth, and I instinctively hollow out my cheeks, sucking harshly on his shaft.

Chris looks down at me with a smile, “I’m close, mama, I promise. Then I’ll fuck you good as a thank you.”

I nod, my voice significantly hindered by his cock lodged in my throat. With a final few thrusts from Chris and a gargling noise that arose from my mouth, he emptied himself into my mouth with a loud, resonating moan.

Giving me a minute to recover, he slid his cock out from my mouth and found a water bottle on his nightstand to feed me.

With a smile, I look at him, “I love having your cock in my mouth.”

With a small laugh, he rests his hand under my chin, wiping away some cum that didn’t quite make it into my mouth, “I love fucking your mouth, baby.”

I bite my lip in excitement, allowing him to use me as he chooses one again.

“Lie down, hmm?” he asks.

I do as I'm told, taking his spot on the bed as he straddles my body. He leans down towards the mattress, his lips finding my cunt. I can feel his breath fan across my body as he begins to lap his tongue in a circular pattern, hitting each part of my cunt.

Unceremoniously, his teeth begin to nip at my clit, creating the perfect amount of friction to make me moan out loud- probably loud enough to be heard over the music playing downstairs.

“Chris, please,” I beg.

“What, mama?” he asks, coming up for air with a small pant. His lips were wet and puffy from the time he spent attacking my clit, and I could see a bit of my arousal begin to make its way down his chin.

“I need you inside me, please,” I whimper.

Chris hums, sending my hips upward with a jolt. The action makes him laugh, which in turn does not help my squirming, “I’ll get inside ya,” he promises.

With one last feathery kiss to my clit, he sends a series of kisses up from my naval to my lips. By the time he has reached my lips, there are drops of my cum trailing up my body as a result of my cum dripping off Chris’s chin.

He leaves a few soft kisses on my lips before I bring his head to mine, holding it there while I nip at his bottom lip. He smiles, sliding his tongue into my mouth and allowing me to take control of the kiss as he adjusts himself against me.

I feel the tip of his cock poking at my entrance before he slowly buries it into my cunt. I let out a gasp, my jaw falling slack as Chris’s tongue laps at the inside of my mouth, trying to regain my attention.

“C’mon, mama, I know you can take me,” he tells me.

“I can take you,” I parrot back.

“Yeah, baby,” Chris agrees, “You’re doing so good.”

He stills for a moment, and I look down between us to see his cock has filled me completely, and he’s allowing me a moment to adjust. I grind my hips against him, my clit rubbing against the base of his cock, making both of us groan.

Looking back up at him, I give him a quick peck of encouragement to start thrusting again. He gently rolls his hips before slowly pulling out and roughly pushing back in.

He began to make this a rhythmic approach, filling the silence between his skin and slapping on yours with a series of breathy moans and chants of both of your names filling the room.

Chris kept his mouth atop mine and intertwined our fingers as he continued to fuck me.

My mouth fell open, and I felt my pussy begin to quiver around his large cock. My orgasm was blinding, leaving me gasping and moaning into Chris’s mouth, giving him ammunition to go faster and harder.

With his bed rocking underneath us and the sound of wet skin repeatedly hitting each other, Chris finally released into my tender pussy.

Pulling out slowly, his hand brought mine to his mouth, leaving feathery kisses on each knuckle.

“You okay, mama?” he asks, “Do you need me to get you anything?”

With a shrug, I reply, “Can I please have another shot of tequila?”

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chiefdirector · 6 months

Text

Earthquake | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Earthquakes were nothing unfamiliar to the residents of Los Angeles, so much so that if there was a period of time without a quake, it would be seen as some form of miracle or divine intervention. After having many quakes and natural disasters, you adjust. Tim never had to adjust to the infamous LA earthquakes, he was born and raised here. Something like a quake was just another Tuesday to him.

Before he would have scoffed seeing his colleagues so disturbed by the idea of a quake, but now he felt sick to his stomach. He could feel the nausea rise up his throat as he called out over the radio again, hoping that his fears would be satiated.

“Control, this is 7-Adam-100. Status report in Detective (L/N).” He said, trying not to let his voice shake as the ground did moments ago. “Control-“

He was cut off by the gruff reply of some poor control officer who would no doubt feel the wrath of Sargent Bradford. “No reply. Detective (Y/N) is currently unreachable.”

Quickly, he raised the radio back up, this time practically barking his question out. “When was the last time you had contact?”

Tim held his breath as the radio remained silent for a moment. He did not believe in anything supernatural but by god did it feel like time stopped.

“Over an hour ago; at 15:42.”

“Goddammit,” he snapped, almost throwing his radio across the briefing room.

Seeing his rage, Chen sidestepped away from his current line of trajectory, quite liking her head without a radio sized dent in it.

The first quake had hit at approximately 15:47. Tim knew what (Y/N)’s silence implied. He tried not to think of the worst case scenario, but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t used to nice things, he wasn’t used to being happy and now that he had finally found joy and happiness, it was only natural that the universe would take it away again.

“Tim,” Chen said timidly. If Tim did not know any better, he could have mistaken her for a child in the way she was slightly cowered away from her. “I had control send her last location to our box, we can go now. I’m sure Grey won’t mind.”

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts, channelling almost all of his energy into the task ahead of him. The small fraction of energy he left aside was to stop him from assuming the worst; thinking of all the horrific outcomes would do him no good.

—-

Tim was never one to spend time with his feelings, if anything he repressed them. When he was a kid, his father used to tell him that emotions were weak, and that ‘real men don’t feel.’ He had taken that mindset into the military, and into the LAPD. It was only when (Y/N) had started to break down his walls did he let himself feel emotions properly for the first time in years. It was like seeing colour for the first time. However, despite all the good it did him, he couldn’t help regretting it slightly as he sat in the passenger seat of the shop, watching Chen drive closer to when (Y/N) was last seen.

“Can’t you drive quicker, Chen,” He snapped, flickering his eyes from her to the road and back to the patrol officer once again.

“Not without breaking fifty traffic laws,” She rebutted. Now that he wasn’t her training officer any more, she would have given him a bit more attitude but now isn't the right time for that, even she could recognise that. “We’re nearly there, the GPS said that her shop was last seen…”

Chen’s words trailed off as the two officers watched as a car wrapped around a tree came into view. The front was completely smashed, with glass and shrapnel landing almost everywhere. There was a small trail of smoke coming from the engine. The car was easily recognisable as one of the LAPD patrol vehicles, the exact same type that Detective (L/N) had left the station in that morning.

Without thinking, Tim sprinted out of the vehicle whilst it was still moving. Without waiting for Chen to stop, he moved with near inhuman speed towards the wreckage. Trying to see if there was any sign of life from within.

“(Y/N)” he called, looking in through the shattered window. Blood was spread across the steering wheel and the driver's seat, glass haphazardly brushed aside from the spot. Tim recognised her handbag tucked in the passenger footwell. IT was the only sign that she had been in the car at all. “Please, baby, say you're here.”

“Any luck?” Chen said, jogging over to his side. Tim needn’t respond though, the tragic look on his face said enough. “Oh god, she isn’t… is she?”

Bradford just shook his head “There’s nobody here. Completely empty. Call it in.”

Lucy nodded, taking a step away to report what had been found. Tim just sat leaned against the car. Briefly he shut his eyes, trying to ground himself back to reality. A part of him wanted to pinch himself to wake up from this nightmare, but another part of him knew that it wasn’t a dream at all.

Slowly, he began to move himself upwards when he heard a rustling in the shrubbery. On instinct, he raised his weapon, calling out for the intruder to raise their hands. He got no such reply except another round of rustling, except it didn’t sound like it was caused by the wind, it sounded too human-like to be anything natural.

Keeping his paces light, he followed the sound as made his way into the shrubbery. He made it only around twenty feet before he saw the cause of the rustling. (Y/N) lay leaned up against a tree, dried blood sat on her forehead and down her left cheek. The rest of her face seemed like it had already started to swell and bruise from the impact. The most jarring thing was not the injuries or the dirt decorating her body, but it was the light-hearted gratin she wore.

“Hey Timmy,” she said, voice light and airy, as if he had woken up early on a sunday morning and not that she had almost died.

“(Y/N),” he practically cried rushing to her side. He gently cradled her face, trying to get a better look at the gash on her forehead from where she had slammed into the steering wheel. “What happened? Are you okay?”

She flashed him another grin as she raised her hand to rest on top of his. “I’m fine, mildly concussed maybe, but I’ll live. And the car crashed, I was knocked off the road when the quake hit. There was nothing I could do to stop it.”

“Why didn't you call for help, do you know how worried I was?”

“My radio is in the car, which was on fire by the way.” She said, almost too lightheartedly for the situation, before her tone turned sombre, “I’m sorry I worried you.”

He kissed her forehead. “Just don’t do it again, I don’t think my heart could take it.”

Ignoring her protests that she could walk by herself, he moved to pick her up bridal style and carry her back to his shop, where Chen was waiting for him. Sure, he was prepared for an earthquake, but Tim wasn't prepared to lose (Y/N), not now, not ever.

Masterlist

@rookietrek @kmc1989 @augustvandyne

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #the rookie #the rookie imagine #tim bradford #chiefdirector

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yandere-wishes · 1 year

Text

Spider Bite Love

Synopsis: Miguel loves you, this you know. But neither the story nor the hero ever stops long enough to wonder if you love him too.

Warnings: Choking, Biting, Reader is from Miles' universe, Miguel is kinda a perfectionist. Yandere themes.

Author's note: Forgive the Spanish it's mostly found on Google. I took like four months of Spanish back in 7th grade and have retained exactly 0.1% of that knowledge.

💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙🕷💙

The future is porcelain, all marble white and reflective crystal. Flying cars and a horizon that echoes soft tamed pastels. Nueva York can almost be described as beautiful. Almost.

If not for the technicalities and lies and the loss of total freedom.

If not for a fate that's been prewritten. Repeated across centuries and dimensions. So uncontrollable that it practically cultivates inferiority within your heart. An age-old tradition found in every child's tale about dashing heroes and harrowing villains.

If not for the looming uncomfortable, presence known as Miguel O'Hara who refuses to leave you alone.

Your lover.

Your hero.

Your Spider-man

Although he's not your Spider-Man. Not really. And you're not the love of his life. Not really. You're both just Look-alikes, cheap replicas from a corner dimension.

It's difficult to comprehend, pondering it encompasses you with an unruly headache. Galling and overpowering, not unlike your so-called "Lover".

To put it simply or rather to oversimplify. You are not meant to be here. You are from Earth-1610, at least you think you are. It's hard to tell since apparently from what you've gathered there was another (y/n). One who looked just like you, acted just like you, and was essentially you in every microscopic aspect. At least that's what Miguel says, and you've come to learn that he's not awfully good at telling the full truth.

She died or was killed. As is customary with every hero's first crush. Thus leaving Miguel without a lover or a prisoner. Depending on which iteration of the story you fancy.

Then Miles came along disrupting the canon and causing a dimension's wide spider hunt, with Miguel leading the charge. Somewhere along the lines, between chasing down Miles and barking orders at the other Superheroes his secret society was made of. He passes by your window. Caught a rogue glimpse and froze. He'd found you again, after all these years of believing that you were dead. Technically you were dead, his (y/n) was dead. But there was one here, another one, just as radiant and beautiful as his original lover had been. Miguel knew he had to have you. To take you back to his dimension. To complete his Canon.

Your dimension was doomed anyway.

So he wasn't really doing any harm.

You shuffle uncomfortably on the couch, attempting to readjust your position as to better gaze out the window at the porcelain city.

It's almost homogeneous to Miguel himself.

A perfect city with no room for cracks or mistakes.

A perfect hero who flawlessly preserves the multiverse.

They're both perfect you think as you steal your gaze from the skyline. Although sometimes perfect and pristine aren't always reflective of a person's inner workings. Miguel isn't exactly corrupted but he's far from innocent either. You - and the motley amount of fang marks spread across your body- are living proof of that.

His apartment is clean, spotless, all ceramic tiles and snowy furniture.

No room for faults or fallacy. His whole life is meant to be errorless. Just like the delicate spider-verse, he's all so keen on protecting.

The door chimes, a light buzz and a thud. It's hard to remember that this is technically the future. That trivial things such as keys and locks have long since been eradicated.

Miguel steps in, a bouquet of red and yellow roses grasped within his hand. He walks in as the door buzzes closed behind him. There's a docile look in his eyes as he spots you sitting on the couch. A repeated memory you realize and you wonder if his (y/n) use to wait for him to get back from Spider HQ, all patient and passive like a pretty doll awaiting her master.

"Para vos, mi querida" he mumbles, somehow apathetic and bashful all at the same time.

You reach for the flowers a practiced smile bearly tugging at your lips, your fingers curling around the bouquet, then you freeze eyes going wide.

There's blood on his claws again, pristine rudy red that drips to an invisible tempo. You wonder who he's killed this time. A canon divergent Spider-Man or Spider-Women. A villain running amuck across the city.

Or some regular civilian he was supposed to protect. A regular civilian who had some interaction with you on one of the rare times Miguel actually agreed to take you out. You wonder but you don't date ask.

His suit is unscratched -as it always is- His face is bruise-less, so it makes you think that your final hypothesis may just be the accurate one. Miguel's eyes narrow when notices your frozen hand.

"What's wrong," he asks a gruff edge in his voice, a warning.

One your mind begs you to obey.

"Who did you kill?" You ask eyes concentrated on the sharp blue razors that make him look more monster than superhero. Your fingers abandon the bouquet's base and return to your side. You try to force your eyes into a glare despite the unruly beating of your fearful heart.

One look from Miguel snuffs all that resistance out. One dark glare from eyes that can't choose if they wish to be red or blue. Human or hero. Human or monster. And you're back to cowering into the couch cushions.

"It doesn't matter" he all but barks, a supernatural chill encompasses the room. As he throws the bouquet down onto the ceramic floor. His lips pull back in a snarl, showcasing milky white fangs that gleam in the low lights.

"It does matter Miguel!" Your voice is raising, itching to scream to yell. To make him understand a fraction of your hatred

"You're supposed to be a hero, a savior, but all you ever do is act like a villain. You stole me from my home, you killed my universe's Spider-man, you destroyed my dimension! You're nothing more than a villain wearing a hero's mask."

There's a punchline to this, you're almost sure of it. Some storybook explanation as to why you decided to lash out at the most terrifying creature you've ever met. Maybe in the heat of the frigid moment, you forgot that he's no mere spider. He's a tarantula, bloodthirsty and savage, ready to attack when someone goes poking at him with a stick.

Miguel's fingers tighten around your throat, sharp claws digging into soft skin and delicate muscles. Pushing you further into the couch. Miguel's ears ring with the symphony of your gagging as he tightens his grasp. He thinks you're choking, suffocating, asphyxiating.

Good. With any luck, you'll be dead soon.

"Mocosa ingrata"

He's not sure if your death will be significant in any way. You're honestly too trivial to have any impact on things. If you hold a place in the canon of his timeline or yours, he's yet to find it.

Miguel hates oddities, things that disrupt the canon, selfish missteps that destroy entire dimensions. You're not quite an oddity per se, although everything in your timeline is broken. Dangling from a loose threat at the edge of a cliff. All because Miles Morales decided to be selfish and greedy and "change" what's been canon for longer than any "Spider-man" has been alive. Miles is a mistake. that whole universe is a mistake. It's bound to collapse on itself at any moment. So for the life of him, Miguel can't understand why you're so ungrateful. So desperate to reprimand him and belittle him when all he's doing is trying to save everyone.

He's failed once,

He's failed twice,

He refuses to fail for a third time.

It doesn't matter that you're some helpless civilian who was stuck in the wrong universe at the wrong time. All that matters is that you're (y/n), his (y/n). Every other Spiderman has their Gwen or their MJ. A dutiful lover, to return to when the night ends, when the fighting ends. When the ignorant sun finally decides to reawaken and cast the city in a temporary ray of peacefulness. Someone to love and cherish, to take their minds off of the dread and misery that runs amuck across their lives.

Peter Parker has his Mary Jane.

Miles Morales had his Gwen Stacy.

So why can't Miguel O'Hara have his (Y/n) (L/n)?

When Miguel looks back down at you, he notices your dark eyes. How the life is slowly fading from your body. He relents, pulling you forward and slamming you into the couch one last time before retracting his hand. He sits down next to your coughing body.

"I hate you" you manage to blurt out between desperate heaves. Trying to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as possible. You don't bother looking at him, you know he's mad. He's always mad when you refuse to act like his (y/n). When you poke holes at the perfect illusion he's created.

There's a brief pause. A second of tranquility. Before Miguel grabs your arm and pulls you onto his lap. His mouth parts. Fangs releasing and hovering above your jugular. His fangs pierce your vain, releasing his poison into your bloodstream. It's not lethal, at least not yet. Miguel prefers to think of it as a sedative for when you start to act up.

It soothes you, calms you into remembering your place. Your head lulls to the side, falling on his shoulder as your groggy eyes look up at him with a stare that he can almost trick himself into believing is loving, or some variant of the same emotion.

You're his, he knows that. You have to be. It's all he can tell himself as to stay sane. You'll understand someday. Realize you love him too.

After all every hero needs a lover.

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besosquecreanadiccion · 1 month

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Buddie fic recs:

I've been wanting to do my own list of my favorite fics for a while now so here it goes (in no particular order):

- my words are paper tigers by @hattalove (this ones my favorite of them and i'd say a little underrated maybe?) TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP - buck breaks up with eddie, the universe doesnt agree - ITS PERFECT I'VE READ IT FOR THE FIRST TIME SO LONG AGO AND ITS STILL ONE OF MY FAVORITES EVER.

- Actually, truly by MilenaDaniels Helena (and Ramon) tries to find a way back into Eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding Buck around every corner she turns. (Or: "Mom, listen.")

- burn the straw house down by rarakiplin - what to even say i think everyone has read this one already but just in case TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP

- Happy Little Accidents by @like-the-rest-of-la - one of the first au i ever read for buddie and i was so ENCHANTED what to even say, buck owns a plant nursery. Its just so soft and so so so beautiful.

- said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by @hattalove - another fave of them. Many weddings and buddie in the middle of it all.

- Close My Eyes and Stumble (Right Into Your Love) by HSMLusitania - i think everyone and their mother has read this one aswell but just in case EDDIE DISPATCHER.

- Burn a bridge, learn how to swim by Watermelonshots - this is a series and jesus christ it literally starts with a buddie drunk make out session so-

- Sit with me in the dark by @kitkatpancakestack - buck loses his vision- !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Soft and kind and yeah beautiful and buck glasses kink anyone?.

- Lifelines by @hetrez . This fic is literally a lifeline - buck and eddie meet during the tsunami and talk about being in the closet. I have no words for how much this fic meabs to me. FLAWLESS.

- about the present by @runawaymarbles - this is a series now and god this was so so fucking special and unique - the first part eddie in the aftermath of being in a timeloop of the shooting. The second one is buck handling it on his own way. PERFECTION. Still thinking about it.

- a good day to be by @hetrez Eddie is a dance instructor, buck needs dance clases for madneys wedding. As flawless as the other one. Eddie Diaz needs a hug yeah.

- we'll be forever, you'll see by rarakiplin - Eddie Diaz finds a cat and heals and heals. And is so loved. I think i cried the first time i finished this one.

- still by @gayhoediaz - once again i think everyone knows this one but just in case, eddie steps on a detonator. ANGSTS SO MUCH ANGSTS AND THAT ENDING YEAH.

- but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by @captain-hen - eddie confesses his feelings, buck rejects him, TIMELOOP TIMELOOP TIMELOOP

- authentication by @vgreysoncellars - i think i described this one as a never ending extention of 7x06 like nights abd just pride and pride and liberation. Eddie picks guys in bars for buck to make out with...

- oh, come when you're called by @lesbianrobin CHRIS 💘 no other words needed i think

- i'm a cliché (who cares) by @cranberrymoons UFF THIS ONE MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL - eddie realizes stuff and buck is there every step of the way.

- bark like you want it by @colonoscopys - SOULMATES AU so so funny and wholesome.

- the love triptych by @cranberrymoons - this ones just so freaking special to me. Helena trying and trying and trying cause she loves her son. And buddie together through it all.

- so much left in store by @lesbianrobin - UNI AU UNI AU UNI AU !!!!!!! AND VERY IMPORTANT BABY CHRIS💘

- hang me up on your bedroom wall by @eddiegettingshot WELL buck just wants (more) but only if eddie gets him pregnant about it... (infidelity fic)

- close ain't close enough (til we cross the line) by @cranberrymoons buddie sexting buddie sexting buddie sexting and being so so freaking insane and not normal about it. (Infidelity fic)

- throw a bone, i’m finally home by @shitouttabuck - i think everyone knows the like a dog verse by now (come on lol) but yeah i'm very very obsessed especially with the second part of it.

#buddie fic recs #buddie fics #IM SO BAD AT SAYING THINGS BUT JUST KNOW EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE FICS IS THE BEST FIC EVER IN MY HEART #seriously they are all so special in their own unique way #ill go now bye

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bigtedbear · 2 months

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" 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 "

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐥𝐮𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

content warnings: gay relationship, descriptions of grevious bodily injury, implied self-mutilation/self-harm, male reader, monster x human relationship, hurt/comfort writing, hey this starts out really dark please take care of your mental health, arguments, misunderstood feelings, mermaid courtship, alternate universe where luocha is a traveling doctor who's studying biology and anatomy across the universe blah blah blah, luocha is pretty genuine in this even though i know he is in fact a snake let me idealize for a moment okay, luocha puts a ring on it without realizing he is literally putting a ring on it

full admittance you'll probably find parallels with @/havanilla's merventurine au at the start of this cause it was one of the last things I read on my old tumblr account before it died on me and i fear i DO have brainrot

to add to my earlier warning about this chapter beginning out dark, there will be a marker for the cuter, mermaid courtship section of the fic!! look for a marker like the one below VV

" welcome back caller 🪷! connecting your line as we speak! "

" new contact noted! caller luocha has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

A pained scream ripped through the air.

It was a shame it couldn’t be distinguished from the sound of other yells and shouting from all over the deck. In fact, it seemed the anguish was completely drowned out by the noise of an older man beginning to bark orders from the side of the fishing boat. Gravelly with age and experience, sets and more sets of hands seemed to jump to action, rushing over to that specific side of the deck.

In the crew’s haste, they didn’t seem to notice they had also woken up the residential cabin. Things were more than hectic; the experienced crew themselves were in a frenzy. There was something that demanded urgent attention and it seemed none of the regular passengers were privy to what exactly it was.

Still, in the curious sea of civilian passengers renting their rooms in the bowels of the ship, a tall blonde head of hair peered over the crowd straight to the source of the fuss. Over the sea of yellow rain jackets adorning the working fishermen, he caught sight of some kind of reflective surface… what many wrote off as an oversized fish, Luocha continued to strain his eyes at.

Should he have been anyone else, perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed. But Luocha was a doctor, he was more than familiar with noises of distress; with the scent of blood. Something in the very core of his body shook with each of the pained and weak motions of an equally pained, weak patient. The vibrations crept up his spine from the wooden boards of the ship, whispering into his ears.

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong.

Despite the protests of one of the tour guides, urging him to go back to sleep, he rushed towards the scene. The same pained screams; the sounds of the body on the deck; the reflection of the “oversized fish”, they became clearer and clearer the closer he closed in.

Before he could make it into the crowd of men at work, he was caught by one of their coworkers. Clad in a yellow raincoat, shadow cast across his face in the rain, the obviously displeased grimace all over his face only further sent Luocha into a state of panic. A tense grip on his elbow, the man spoke in a language he didn’t understand. Even if he didn’t understand the words themselves, Luocha was more than smart enough to understand the message the worker was trying to convey. Before he could be pulled away, he made one last attempt to see what exactly was going on.

When he did manage to catch a glimpse, he froze.

Perfect, round tears running down flushed, red cheeks.

The skin was pulled taut in another scream. Based on the shaking motion of the face, he could only really come to the conclusion the body was being jerked in every direction possible.

“Stop… STOP!” He yanked his elbow out of the man’s grasp, crashing directly into the back of another worker. In his haste, he shoved the man out of the way only to find his path blocked by even more yellow raincoats. “You’re only going to worsen the injuries! I’m a doctor!”

Despite not considering himself to be very physically fit, something about the situation discarded that reality entirely. An unknown strength washed over him as he forced his way through the clusterfuck of workers trying to wrestle the screamer into place.

He didn’t understand, Luocha didn’t understand.

There was an injured crew member on the deck, screaming–what kind of idiot would continue to pull and stress the skin around the wound? Was that why the team leader seemed to screaming with such vigor? Was he equally concerned about one of his staff suddenly being sent into debilitating agony?

But no, not even in the slightest.

Through the crowd, a wet mop of hair thrashing against the backdrop of a barbed fishing net came into view. The urgency only further sent Luocha wrestling through the crowd of men, all but screaming himself as he watched the injured man on the ground contort his facial muscles in abject horror.

“Stop it, you’re hurting him!”

He could hear his own vocal chords start to tear as he shrieked for the poor victim. With each passing moment, fear and anxiety seized the doctor in his entirety before he finally managed to part the crowd like the red sea.

In the end,

he wasn’t faced with a crew member.

...

A merman.

Something he’d only heard of in the planet’s folklore.

It seemed well-known the small surviving population hardly ever ventured out of protected waters for fear of predators.

What was this one doing so far out…?

With the opportunity making itself known, the unknown merman continued to thrash but harder, lips curling upwards as another shrill cry of agony streaked the night air. From up close, the doctor could only watch the formerly smooth, unmarred skin become tainted with red. Washed with your own blood, you looked more similar to some kind of horror movie monster than a person.

But even in the face of monstrosity, his inner doctor only saw the blown out pupils, the senseless aggression, the fear written all over his patient’s face in their own claret stain.

“You’ll end up killing him, stop, STOP!”

He completely ignored his own pain as the barbs in the net ripped into the fabric of his pajamas, cutting open his knees when he threw his body on top of yours. His hands flew around carelessly in an attempt to unlatch the hands that seemed determined to pull at you from every direction.

At the loss of the hands all over your body, your screams died down into pitiful hyperventilation, curling in on yourself in an attempt to cover the wounds weeping crimson all over the formerly white net.

Instead of relief, instead of some kind of graditude, it seemed he was only met with friction.

“Oy, blondie, paws off, do you understand how much money you’ve got your hands on right now?”

The thick accent confused him at first, then the words themselves didn’t seem to compute.

“Excuse me?”

You yelped again when one of the men pulled at the net. The cold metal tore sore flesh in chunks.

“Mermaid scales are priceless. So are the pearls they cry, we caught the bastard fair and square so. Step. Off.”

His mind scrambled to understand the sentence, thoughts muddling together in a blender of pain and panic. “I- I-”

“You?” Another crew member chimed in, crossing his arms, “You’ll what, doctor? You can either get off of him and wrap up your cuts yourself or we’ll drag you off and the barbs can teach you to keep your nose out of other people’s business.”

“I-” his breathing picked up drastically, suddenly confronted with such a terrible moral dilemma.

When prying hands began to make grabby motions for the edges of the ropes, he choked out his final answer.

“I'll pay for him!"

“...”

He swept his rain-soaked bangs out of his face, his voice shaking, “You were planning on selling him, right?” He fumbled with his sleeves, “I make good money, I swear, I-,” he swallowed, “I can afford it. Just take as much as you want out of the account I used to pay for my cabin.”

“...”

Things were a little bit awkward, to say the least.

Despite an attempt being made to cooperate while you were awake, it seemed the pressure and the mounting stress of nearly dying made it unable for you to accept the fact that Luocha was not, in fact, going to hurt you.

The attempt to deal with the various injuries littered all over formerly smooth, silky skin was unproductive at best. In fact, it only created more problems. Trying to operate while you were largely unreceptive to anything he was saying was by far the worst decision he could’ve made given the circumstances.

Point blank, he needed to get the barbed hooks out of your skin. If he didn’t, the wounds would be at increased risk of infection. After all, based on the cruel treatment he’d seen on deck, he knew the metal was most likely unsanitized. Doing this while you were awake was easily the worst decision he could've made.

Promising not to hurt you while continually yanking pieces of metal out of your tender flesh was not a good way to build trust.

"..."

You poked at the “strange” bowl that’d been set in front of you. It was some kind of clam-fish hybrid soup. I mean, Luocha was trying to be considerate of your regular diet. Surely, since you were living out in open waters, you were pretty used to eating fish right?

He, however, failed to realize you weren’t exactly in a spot to ever enjoy the luxuries of cooked food… or soup. He’d laid out some utensils for you to use on top of that; it was a shame you didn’t know how to use them.

"..."

You realized pretty early on that he’d saved you from becoming a victim to death by blood loss. After all, when you were dropped in a holding tank until the ship arrived at the port, the water went cloudy from the dirt, debris, and blood all over your body. In your little waist-high tank, he’d done his best to make sure you’d actually survive through the night.

Despite your reservations about him, you did your best not to scream while you were confined to a glorified holding cell. Nails digging into the glass, biting down hard enough on the towel to tear, you tried your best to stay still while he fished countless little hooks from your back, arms, and chest.

Removing the large hook in your shoulder was the most painful part of the process for the both of you. You, for obvious reasons. The hook made a clean cut through the muscle--scraping up against the bone--by the time you were awake enough to realize you were wrapped up in a barbed net. Luocha, on the other hand, was the one that had to deal with the struggle while trying to complete a very tricky operation.

Eventually, the problem dealt with itself when you passed out. Really, he should’ve sedated you to start with, and he cursed at himself for not thinking of it sooner. After you went out, he did his best to stitch everything up–hell, he wrapped you up in enough bandages to look like a mummy.

But, since the two of you actually arrived on the island, there wasn’t so much as a word shared from either party.

You woke up in a little bathtub, in a little bathroom, feeling like your arms were falling off and you couldn’t breathe because of how tight all of the bandages were wrapped around you. Eventually the giant bandages changed to smaller ones attached with some medical tape. The only bulky one left was the one wrapped around your shoulder.

"..."

With some trepidation, you grabbed at one of the fishtails sticking out of the mystery liquid, digging a finger in between the meat and the ribs to peel it off the bone. Carefully, you used one of your freshly trimmed nails to remove the thick, scaly skin, then biting off a chunk to chew and swallow.

The longer you stared at the bowl, the more confused you became.

Yes, you knew how to eat a fish.

Yes, you knew how to eat a mussel.

No, you didn’t know what to do with whatever else was in the bowl.

You paused eating when the man sitting across from the bathtub cleared his throat. He made a vague gesture towards your lap, “Would you…?”

‘...mind if I showed you how to eat a bowl of soup?’

Without much hesitation, you offered up your meal again, much more interested in the chunk of fish in your hand. Biting off another piece, you drank in the pleasant familiarity in just having some tilapia for once.

He picked up the spoon. Deciding not to embarrass you further, he decided to taste test the food himself instead of trying to feed you. He let the silver spoon clatter back into the bowl, passing it over to you again. Despite the clear demonstration he’d given you, you opted to pick at one of the mussels hiding underneath the broth.

“...”

He cleared his throat again, seemingly averting eye contact as he stared at the tiled walls.

You diverted your attention from your bowl back to the blonde doctor.

“I don’t mean to be rude or pry in any way,” he swallowed, “but what exactly were you doing so far from protected waters?"

You didn’t seem surprised in the slightest by his question, grabbing at the other fish tail in the bowl, “Smuggling and poaching.”

He tilted his head curiously.

“Protective waters have attendants to track general pod health, they have the authority to temporarily remove merfolk from the water to do routine health checks." You finally wrapped your hand around the spoon awkwardly, bringing some broth up to your lips. "Smugglers get jobs as attendants cause only tagged mermaids are considered protected.” You wiggled one of your finned ears, your left ear. Notably, there was a small tear in one of the fins. “It only takes a couple minutes for an attendant to catch a mermaid, sedate them, get them into a vehicle, remove their tag and throw them out into the right spots for a couple grand.”

“I see.”

You hummed, finally bringing the soup up to your lips, “Speaking of, how much did you end up having to pay for me?”

"..."

“Excuse me?” Luocha’s hands rested in his lap.

“How much did you end up paying for me?” You picked up another mussel, “I’m pretty good about keeping up with the price of scales and pearls. I know you bought me as some kind of pity project, but I'm pretty eager to go back out to open waters. Just name your price and I can start trying to pay off the debt.”

The doctor blinked a couple times. “Oh… oh my god, absolutely not!” He shook his head, bringing his hands up in front of his chest defensively, “There is no need to pay me back in the slightest. Please, just rest well and remain healthy. That would be the best payment.”

“What’s this?”

He rolled the small iridescent pearl between his gloved fingers.

“It’s a pearl.”

He cracked a smile at that. It was gone as quick as it arrived as he brought the little treasure to his face to take a closer look. “Well yes, but where did you get this? Did you have it stashed on you somewhere?”

You twirled your finger in a circle on the surface of the water. “No,” absentmindedly you observed the little whirlpool it made, “I made it.”

He blinked a couple of times, hand dropping back to his side. “Pardon?”

You finally looked up from the surface of the water, “I made it.”

He cocked his head to the side, “You… made a pearl?”

You looked at him, bored, “Well, yeah, did you not know mermaids make pearls?”

He looked from you, to the pearl, and then back at you. “No… I’m afraid I didn’t know.” His palm closed into a fist around the pearl, “How?”

“...hm?”

He gestured towards his closed hand, “How did you make it?”

You gave a huff, “Well, you’ve seen me make them before.”

He frowned, “I… have?”

‘-and I didn’t notice?’

You nodded, shifting around in the bathtub to try and stretch your long tail out a little bit. "The night I got caught on the boat-" Your jaw tensed, a sudden pang of soreness shooting up from your extremities. "-they were all over the deck, there were a bunch in the little tank they had me in.”

His frown only deepened as he did his best to recall, “I don’t think I remember seeing them…? Does your blood crystalize into them or something of the sort?”

You rested your head on the porcelain of the tub, bringing your arms up to cushion your cranium. “Tears,” you murmured, “Merfolk tears turn into pearls.”

‘Ah… so that’s why you mentioned there being so many on the ship.’

But then it hit him.

“Why were you crying?”

You shrugged, “Most mermaids in protected waters can cry on command. We get a lot of tourists that give us gifts, sometimes if we’re interested we’ll give them a pearl in return.”

He nodded like he understood, but suddenly the beautiful gem felt heavy in his fist. He opened his hand and offered it back, “As beautiful as it is, I don’t wish to see you shedding any tears while you’re under my care.”

You pushed his outstretched hand away, “Well, I already made it. There’s no use trying to return it.”

“Still, I feel terrible receiving a gift with such painful origins,” he sat down on the stool that’d become his usual spot. “I’m a doctor. My goal is to make sure you’re in the least amount of pain possible.”

“You should feel honored, you’re really the first person I’ve ever given a pearl to,” you raised your head from its spot on your arms, “I usually only gave them to little kids that didn’t bring me gifts so I’d give them something.” You sank further into the water in the shallow tub.

“My concern is why you believe you should be giving me gifts in the first place,” he crossed his left leg over his right, scooting in closer, “I’ve already told you that taking care of you has always been of my own volition. It is quite literally my job. If you’re giving this to me as a gift and not repayment, I might be more inclined to accept it.”

You huffed, “Well, I guess you caught me.”

His brows furrowed, “So I was right, you’re trying to pay back a debt again.”

“...”

This time, he sighed. “I’ve already told you, your health and wellbeing are both priceless. I would never ask a patient I forced into care to pay me any sum of money-”

“That’s what I don’t understand,” The water rippled when you sat up suddenly, “Why don’t you want to accept any kind of payment? I’m tired of talking to you as property and owner. You bought ownership, legally I’m your property. I don’t want to be your property.”

“You aren’t my property-” He quipped, expression growing displeased.

“But I am,” you cut him off. “You signed paperwork, you exchanged a certain sum of money. Even if you thought I couldn’t hear you doesn’t mean I didn’t.” You crossed your arms across your chest, “I still heard the captain of the ship talking about sale prices with you. I know I was considered a higher quality product, I know I was expensive.”

The doctor opened his mouth; and closed it and opened it again. He struggled to find the correct words to use. “I didn’t consider that an exchange for ownership of you, I considered that to be the price of your wellbeing. I’ve never considered you to be anything but an equal to me.”

You drew your lips into a tight line, “Well, if I was an equal, you’d let me contribute to the cost somehow. You wouldn’t treat me like some helpless baby.” You gestured to his closed palm, “The pearl in your hand is priceless, sealing a handful of them would recuperate the money you wasted-”

Luocha held up his hand, “Stop-”

But you insisted, “Hell, if I ripped a couple of scales out you could more than pay for me. You’d have enough money to buy another sorry sack of shit to take care of-”

“Don’t EVER-” he cut you off aggressively, “EVER, suggest such ludacris things to me again. I refuse to even think about it.”

“..."

Luocha shook his head, getting his gloves wet when he reached into the water to hold your hands in his own, “I would never ask you to do something like that to yourself. I would never ask you to hurt yourself to please me and I would never ask you to hurt yourself because you needed my help.” He gave your palms a gentle squeeze, “You did not ask to be put in the position you’re in now, I am the one that chose to do this and I will be the one to set the price on my help; that price-” he paused, making sure you were looking him in the eyes, “-will always be no price at all.” He pushed the pearl back into your hands. “Give this pearl to one of the children that visit the waters after you’ve healed up in my stead, yes?”

“It’s not exactly how I remember it.”

You squirmed against the sensation of the water, arms still looped around Luocha’s neck.

“Any discomfort?” The doctor asked, “Tell me if anything hurts.”

“No, no, nothing like that,” You shuffled around to try and make yourself comfortable. You did your best to find the familiar rhythm of the waves, but your tail felt as useless as it had the entire time you’d been confined to the bathtub. “It’s… cold.”

Luocha nodded... even though he couldn't quite understand. “If you aren’t straining any of your injuries, you can hang on for as long as you need to.”

You mumbled, trying to draw your elbows closer to your chest, “I’m not.”

“...”

It’d only been a week since the last time you’d tried to repay your imaginary debt to Luocha. Things got… less tense between the two of you.

You didn’t put up a fuss when he put some ointment on the scars that formed all over your skin. You didn’t squirm when he unwrapped your shoulder bandage. You’d usually bide your time silently in the bathtub. Mostly, you’d nap. But that got old quickly, especially since a bathtub isn’t the most convenient spot for sleeping.

Luocha could tell you were bored out of your mind all on your lonesome. To satiate this, he’d usually sit with you in the bathroom and try to teach you things like how to play cards. You were a little apprehensive with him, like you always were, but it seemed you opened up to him a lot more towards the end of your stay in his temporary residence.

You’d become a pretty competent blackjack player all things considered.

You opened up more and more about your life down below. Usually, you’d be afraid to tell anyone about that information. Smugglers often targeted specific pods if one of the products happened to be particularly pricy. But Luocha wasn't at any risk, was he?

“...”

Eventually, as the water started to feel more natural on your skin, you let your grip loosen from around his neck. As the welcoming embrace of the ocean seemed to envelop more and more of your body, you could feel the former tension in your muscles start to melt away.

You laid yourself horizontal to the surface of the water, tentatively starting to create your own ripples in the vast expanses of blue. Maybe it didn’t feel exactly as you remembered, but the gentle pressure of the cool, cool sea against your skin felt like home.

Your arms splayed out in the waves like an angel, basking in the familiarity of it all. “You can let go now.”

Slowly, surely, pale arms lowered you into the arms of the same waters you’d been in a little over two months ago. You shocked yourself when you chased after his hands. Still, as slick as an eel, you slid away from him into the open ocean, finding a boyish glee in the pure ecstasy of true freedom.

You took off like a little jet, head first into the deep end.

Luocha could only really watch with a small smile while you explored the vast array of little treasures hidden beneath the horizon line.

It felt like only fifteen minutes had passed when you re-emerged from beneath the ocean blue, but to your shock, the sun was starting to set and Luocha was off on dry land, wringing the water out of his hair.

In all of your fun, it seemed you’d forgotten about that man who’d made all of this possible for you.

“...”

You pursued him onto the sand, watching him characteristically tilt his head to the side to express his curiosity. You pushed your own wet mop of hair out of your face with your hand, suddenly feeling a little less confident in your choices. Despite your trepidation, you felt you at least owed him this much.

That didn't make it any easier.

“I-” you swallowed, curling in on yourself, “What if I wanted to give you a gift? If it wasn’t some kind of repayment?”

He smiled, flipping a soaked lock of hair over his shoulder, “As long as you aren’t lying to me about repayment, then I would gladly accept.”

You suddenly felt a new wave of confidence wash over you, your chest puffing up a little bit, “Well, I have a gift for you.” Even though you failed to notice your little finned ears wiggling in excitement, Luocha did not.

You reached up to your right ear, unhooking the beautiful golden earring that’d you'd been wearing since you’d been thrown out of protective waters.

His eyes widened.

“It-” You offered the hoop to him, “It was my mom’s.”

Luocha blinked a couple times, staring at the bangle before looking back up at your face instead.

“Well? You said you’d accept it if it was a gift.” You pushed it into his face, feeling a red hot flush wash over your features, “This is a gift; from me to you, no strings attached.”

He carefully took the thin gold loop in his fingers. He noticed the signs of oxidation and the water damage.

It was already far less valuable than the pearl you’d tried to offer him.

Yet its sentimental value was unrivaled.

“...”

“Did... your mother like jewelry?”

You shrugged, looking away from him, “Yeah, she had a lot of it from my dad.”

Luocha nodded. “Well, did she have a favorite kind of jewelry?”

At this, you paused. “I mean… I guess she did. She wore a lot of rings… why?”

“Well, since this is a gift I won’t refuse it,- Luocha slid one of the golden bands wrapped around his fingers off, “-but if you can’t have her earring anymore, then you can at least have a piece of jewelry your mother would’ve liked to wear.”

You felt your face transition from an embarrassed pink to a much deeper red. “You… you know what you’re offering me, r-right?”

He didn’t respond in the way you expected. Instead of his usual confusion, he pushed the ring towards you again with one hand. The other went to work, looping the clasp of the earring through a piercing that was just a little bit too close to closing.

It felt like your brain was melting.

‘Is he… flirting with me?’

You took the golden ring between your fingers, watching him use his newly freed hand to further force the earring through the piercing hole. You could only feel the heat creep up your neck to your ears; fuck, it felt like you were going to burn alive on the sand.

When he finally got it in, he flipped a chunk of wet hair over his shoulder. He framed the golden hoop with his palm. Playfully, he asked, “How does it look?”

‘...’

‘He’s definitely flirting.’

You immediately ripped your gaze from his face to the ring that suddenly felt like a hundred pounds in your palm.

‘...What fingers do humans usually put the ring on again?’

Shakily you slid the golden ring onto your left hand, examining the way it glinted in the light of the sunset.

‘...holy shit, did I just get married?’

“[name]?”

You blinked a couple times, suddenly ripping your gaze away from the shiny metal. “Sorry, sorry.”

He chuckled at your expense, enjoying the little fluttering of your ears everytime he seemed to catch your attention again. “Thank you for the gift, I’ll cherish it dearly.”

You nodded.

“...”

The silence was interrupted with a quiet sniffle.

“...[name]?”

You aggressively wiped the tear off your face, watching the consequent pearl roll across the grains of sand. “H-Hey, you can’t just give me this ring and leave-” You took a deep breath, “-That’s not fair, that’s not fair at all.”

He was a little taken aback at the sudden resurgence of emotion, “Would…” he paused. He thought it over before tentatively putting a hand on your shoulder, “Would it help if I stayed a little longer?”

You shook your head, putting your hand over the one on your shoulder to hold it between both of your own hands. “You have to promise to visit me a lot. It’s going to take me a long time to find my family, so if you don’t visit I’m going to be lonely.”

He, once again caught off guard, nodded, “O-Of course!” His own cheeks tinted a pale pink.

“You promise?”

He nodded again, this time using his other hand to clasp your hand in both of his. “I promise I’ll visit.”

a side note for this upcoming section: i did a lot of world-building for this fic behind the scenes, the current planet they're on is largely submerged beneath the waters and they live on a bunch of island nations. To link up with that idea, my idea of the mermaid smuggling industry is to do with the concept of foreigners coming in and destroying local ecosystems. (Colonization)

Long story short, the planet is loosely based on Polynesian Islands so I chose Māori names for our supporting cast but keep in mind I am FAR from an expert and I mean literally no disrespect at all to anyone at all. Only the names are Māori in nature because I feel like no matter how much research I do, I would be unable to capture the essence of the rich culture of New Zealand. I'm a little gay fanfic writer I have not done nearly enough research to claim I know ANYTHING, I just thought it'd be cool and help with world-building in case people want a part-two or something

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“Shut the fuck up Iarere, this is like the seventh time in the same hour.”

Your younger brother held his hands up defensively, “Well, things got boring around here without you!” He let himself fall towards the ground next to the boulder you’d splayed out all the little pieces of gold you’d managed to scrounge up. “You manage to make it back from outside of protective waters and instead of hating everything and everyone, you’re suddenly getting all buddy buddy with the tourists trying to get some trinkets. I know you’re old but are you really getting that desperate?”

You frowned, “I’m not that old.”

Iarere rested his face on the cool surface of the rock, prodding at one of the particularly flashy necklaces. “You’re old to me.”

Your frown deepened. Not just because your brother was calling you old, but because Luocha’s weekly visit was coming up and you hadn’t managed to gather up nearly as much as you would’ve wanted. For your kind, caring, doctor husband who was already well off, a few necklaces and a handful of rings and earrings wouldn’t be anywhere near enough to woo him. “I guess I am getting towards the end of the usual age people get married at.”

The younger man nodded, humming, “Yeah, so do you have anyone in mind?”

You bit your lip.

I mean, yes, you were married.

But it felt inauthentic if you didn’t present your husband with some kind of dowry first.

Yes, Luocha only presented you with one of his old rings, but he also paid a hefty sum to rescue you from certain doom. He also nursed you back to good health, refused to take any payment for any of the medical treatments or the food that’d been wasted making sure you’d retain your strength throughout your recovery.

In your mind, maybe human dowries were just a little bit different.

Despite opening your mouth to voice your dissent, your little brother jumped up at the opportunity to tease you. “So you do have someone you’re thinking about!”

“I-”

“What are they like?” Iarere gripped your shoulders, tearing your attention away from your inner dilemma. “What do they look like? Do I know them?” He gasped, shaking you back and forth and he demanded to know, “Did you meet them while you were outside?!”

You gripped at his shoulders in return, “I didn’t say I had anyone in mind!”

“...”

He pursed his lips, “Yeah, I’m not buying it.”

You groaned, bringing your hands up to your face.

He only got more excited, leaning in way too close for comfort as he squealed, “So I was right?!”

“Right about what?”

Your eyes darted over to the side, watching one of the few friends you’d managed to retain at your grown age. “Thank the gods, Akahata, get Iarere off me before he gives me whiplash.”

He hummed, “Well, I’m more interested in what exactly you guys were talking about before.” You watched as his eyes flitted from you and your brother to all the precious metal and gems you’d laid out. “Actually don’t tell me, let me guess.” He pointed at the rock, “You’re setting up a dowry, but you’re upset because you know no amount of jewelry would ever get anyone in the pod to consider settling down with your ugly mug.”

“HAH!”

Your ears fluttered in irritation. “That’s a horrible guess.”

Akahata shrugged, “Well, I mean, your mug’s only ugly cause you frown all the time. If you actually made an effort to smile more, you’d probably have a lot more people that’d be willing to accept you with no dowry.”

Your frown tugged at the corners of your lips as you massaged your temples, “For your information, I’m making a dowry cause I already got married.”

“...”

“...’

“...”

“You WHAT?!”

Iarere’s fists clenched even tighter around your biceps, “You told me you lost mom’s earring, not that you got married-”

“It’s a long story-” You started,

“Not long enough to not tell either of us!” Your best friend screamed in abject horror. “The moment Ngaio and I started courting each other I told you immediately-” You grimaced when he pushed your brother out of the way to be the one to shake you back and forth, “-and you get married and you don’t tell me until afterwards?!”

“It wasn’t planned! I didn’t even realize he was courting me until he gave me his ring-” You countered, face lighting up pink.

“So it’s a him…” Iarere mumbled, putting his hand to his chin. His expression lit up as the pieces started clicking together in his head. “Is that where you’re going tomorrow?!”

“YOU’RE GOING TO MEET HIM TOMORROW?!”

You were growing more overwhelmed by the minute, averting eye contact. “Yeah, so what? We’ve been meeting up every week while I was looking for you guys. Is it weird for husbands to spend time together?”

Akahata abruptly let go of you, leaving red imprints of his hands on your arms. “That’s not that problem, that problem-” he paused for dramatic effect, “-is that you’re planning on meeting up with him after returning and you’re not even telling us who he is!”

Iarere put a hand over his heart, feigning his disappointment as he let himself sink into the sand below. “I think I’m going to faint.”

You sighed, “Well-”

Akahata jabbed an accusatory finger in your chest again, “Is he even good looking enough for you? Is he any good at providing? What was his dowry like? What pod is he even from?!”

“He’s not from a pod-”

Your brother hummed, “So is he a lone wanderer out beyond the boundaries of protected waters saving pretty mermen he wants to marry?”

Your face twisted into one of disgust, “Keep your fantasies to yourself.”

Iarere huffed, “Well, what else am I supposed to think when you say he’s not from a pod? He obviously has so be some kind of lone wolf, PLUS you got married before you made it back.”

Akahata put a contemplative hand under his chin, “I mean he has a point.”

You shook your head, “He’s a human.”

“...”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re joking…”

You held up your hand, gesturing towards the ring on your finger.

“Oh my god, you’re not actually joking.”

Your younger brother squealed, “Oh my god this is like something out of all those movies on the surface! Tell me all about it!”

You frowned, pushing through both your peers to make it back to your makeshift table top. “He’s… a doctor, but he was working as a trader on a big ship. He was there the night I got caught and he ended up buying me off the boat and he patched me up and released me.”

Your best friend sighed, “Only you can make a story that romantic sound like a business deal.”

Iarere furrowed his brows, “Wait, wait, wait, when did he propose?”

“Well-” You fumbled over your words, “I caught feelings and I thought I might as well start the courtship process-”

“YOU made the first move?!”

“Shut up!” You pushed your overly eager younger brother’s face away, “I didn’t know if he even knew about mermaid courting so if I was going to start courting him, I had to do it then.”

“...go on.”

You sighed, “I gave him mom’s old earring, but instead of just taking it, he gave me one of the rings he was wearing.” You covered your face, feeling another wave of crimson wash everywhere from your neck to the tips of your ears. You still couldn’t get the memory of him showing off the earring out of your fucking head. “I mean- I- I even asked if he knew what offering me his ring meant and he just put it in my hand.”

Your younger brother kicked around on the sand eagerly, waving his hands around excitedly. “That is actually one of THE most romantic proposals I’ve ever heard of!”

Akahata crossed his arms, “Damn, I feel like mine was lacking.”

You huffed, “Well, Ngaio is still your wife.”

“And whatever his face is still managed to wife you--of all people--up.”

“Touche.”

“Oh wow, you brought more than you usually do.”

Luocha chuckled behind his hand, his own little bag of purchased trinkets hanging loosely at his side.

You hummed, thumbing over the beautiful glistening stone of a diamond necklace you’d managed to get off of a rather infamous regular. “You’re one to talk.”

He gave a small grunt of exertion as he sat next to you on the sand, letting the bag fall to the side, “You’ve got me there.” He couldn’t help the pleasant swell of warmth in his face as you gestured for him to turn around.

I mean, maybe you weren’t the best at communicating what you were feeling or what you wanted from him, but you’d been getting better. Instead of just grunting a yes or no to the questions he’d ask, you’d actually make time for some conversation with him. Be it from your annoying younger brother to the changes in the pod since you’d returned, it seemed you shared what little woes you had with Luocha.

You also seemed to share endless amounts of little golden treasures with him. From old, worn gold, oxidized iron, anything really that you could find, you provided it to him and put it on him with the most delicate touch your rough, scarred hands could muster. Maybe it was nothing, maybe it was something. He couldn’t control the way his heart sped up whenever you leaned in to help him put on a new pair of earrings you’d gifted him. He surmised gift giving was some kind of love language that was common among merfolk. Perhaps you’d also enjoy it if he brought you gifts of equal value!

Still, the pounding in his heart was not helped when you’d started smiling at him.

Everytime he managed to catch one of the rare glimpses of your smile–even worse when you’d laugh–he almost felt like he was looking at something forbidden. Something he wasn’t worthy of, right in front of him. For someone who had been through so much, you really opened up to him remarkably quickly after you’d been released. Perhaps before release you’d been scared of being sold off? The familiar feeling of the waters must’ve don wonders to make you relax this much.

Even worse when the physical affection began. It started as simple as reaching out to the side of his face to brush the hair away from his ear so you could catch sight of the golden hoop he’d taken to wearing. It transitioned to taking his gloves off so you could look at the rings you ended up gifting him. Before he could really process how quickly the two of you were moving, you were pressed up against him at every opportunity.

He knew it was natural for merfolk to not wear clothing, but did you have to have such a muscular chest?

Even now, as you fumbled with the clasp of the absolutely beautiful diamond necklace, you wrapped an equally muscular aquatic tail around his leg. He didn’t exactly know if this was normal between merfamily-could he call them that?--, being overly affectionate. Even if it felt like a little more than just normal bonding, he did his best to still the pounding of his heart when your fingers brushed his hair out of the way so you could make sure the gem was oriented correctly.

Trying his hardest to quell the tide of warmth surging up to the tips of his ears, he put a hand over his erratic heartbeat. He prayed to the Aeons above you couldn’t feel it as your chest pressed against his back.

You wrapped your arms snug around his torso, pulling him further into your stomach. Resting your chin on top of his blonde hair, you found the gloved hand resting over his heart to hold in your own. The two of you let the silence hang in the air for a moment.

“...”

You gave a quiet huff before you moved your chin from on top of his head to bury itself into the crook of his neck. As his fingers interlocked with yours, he found himself looking at all the gold rings he’d adorned your fingers with. Each and every one, he could put a time and day to.

But then, his eyes landed on your ring finger.

“Oh, you still wear that old thing?”

“...hm?”

You glanced down at your hand, raising a brow. His finger was tracing over the ring he’d exchanged when he was releasing you back into the open water.

“You still wear the same earring I gave you,” you murmured, flicking it with your freehand. “I’ve given you countless pairs of earrings since, yet even when you wear one stud, you’ll always wear the same one every time I see you.”

His chest rumbled with a bout of laughter, “I suppose you’re right.” He perked up suddenly, “Oh, that reminds me, speaking of this earring…” He reached towards the rather large bag of gifts he’d brought with him. He threw a few of the boxes of gold ornaments he’d purchased before finally fishing the box he was looking for out of the bottom. “I went shopping and when I saw this pair, I simply knew you’d love it.”

You hummed, looking at the little navy blue box in his hand.

He made quick work of the bow wrapped around the holding case, nimble fingers peeling open the little box before he presented you with his gift on their signature velvet cushion. It looked like…

…a replica of your mother’s earrings.

He offered them up to you with a bashful smile, watching in silent amusement when your ears flicked back and forth in some kind of excitement.

Delicately, gently, you picked up one of the hoops and twirled it around your fingers.

“...”

“...Well? Do you like it?”

You didn’t respond, reaching up to your right ear to remove the little stud you’d chosen to wear to this outing. Fidgeting with the clasp of the loop, you threaded it with a calculated ease through your piercing.

“I like it.”

He clasped his hands together, “Good, I’m more than glad.”

“...”

“She would’ve loved to meet you.”

“Hm?”

You paused, “My mother, I mean,” Your thumb fidgeted with the back of the earring. “She always wanted to see her sons get married, but she passed before she could.”

Luocha blinked.

“Pardon?”

You tilted your head to the side, “My mother; she would’ve loved to meet you.”

“No, no,” Luocha could feel the deep claret paint his face a messy red as he scooted to face you, “What did you mean by seeing her sons get married?”

“...

…Did you not know?”

Luocha blinked.

“We’re married.”

Another blink.

“You… Is that why…?” He gestured towards the gifts strewn across the sand. He looked back towards his own bag of gifts.

‘Oh for crying out loud-’

“I-” he cleared his throat, “I apologize, I seem to have… entered this marriage under false pretenses.” He put his hands on his temples, “How- Where- When exactly did this happen?”

You hummed, “When you let me back out into the water. When I gifted you my mother’s earring, that was the signal I wanted to start courting you. When you gift something back, that’s an officiation of marriage.”

He coughed into his hand, trying to think through this situation logically.

Okay, so he accidentally got married.

What the fuck.

The train of thought seemed to end there.

…

He was, however, plagued with another train of thought.

‘Well, you have been making eyes at him for a few months now.’

…

Those thoughts were not helping.

“...”

“If you want to end the marriage, it’s as simple as saying so,” you added, “I thought you knew what my intentions were-”

“NO!”

Luocha covered the bottom half of his mouth. “I’m fine with the arrangement as is, but it appears human marriage and merfolk marriage are officiated in very different ways.”

Your brows furrowed.

“...”

“...Are you saying you want to officiate the marriage as humans would?”

The tips of Luocha’s ears burned with embarrassment. “I-”

You held one of his hands in yours, eyes seemingly boring holes into his face, “Whatever it is, as long as you want to do it, I will do it to the best of my ability.”

Any complaints were silenced when he was confronted with such sincerity. “Well…”

You waited patiently, folding your hands in your lap.

Finally, it seemed your “husband” made up his mind.

“Close your eyes.”

You paused, seemingly surprised, but nonetheless your eyes fluttered shut moments after.

Luocha urged himself to breathe, flexing and unflexing his hands.

He leaned forward, closing his eyes as he…

…planted an innocent peck on your lips.

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" idk how to describe it but now being on the other side of this, i'm feeling something similar to post nut clarity "

first post since losing literally everything on my first account yay !!

yes guys, luocha and his mermaid husband were openly cuddling on the beach for months and he's wondering "is he into me or am i bro-zoned"

that being said, losing my tumblr has now forced me to realize how many people genuinely like my writing hey guys I went scrolling through user kamisatoelogy's blog to look for their modern ayato fic and i found out someone dedicated time and effort into archiving my works???? and you guys went looks for me????

i fr feel like getting on my hands and knees and thanking everyone for all their support and love over this process and apologizing for scaring you guys so bad

you guys are so sweet and so many of you have been so helpful in getting my blog back up and running again :((

i started drafting my fics in google docs to make sure it isn't all GONE if i get shit on again so this chapter is brought to you by font: unica one, it was 27 pages total (i am insane)

shout out to Chappell Roan cause she really put me in my tunnel vision work zone while i was writing this

if u guys r looking for a writing hack, i trained myself like a sleeper agent to start writing when i play songs on hour loop it puts me in a work rut

- love, operator t-19

310 notes · View notes

fernandopiastri28 · 5 months

Text

high for this ~ oscar piastri

Notes:

i am officially finished with holidays and back to school :/ so im going to be posting a lot less but i do have a few works just rotting in my drafts so i'll probably just be changing the names of characters and posting them. (not proof read so i apologise if there's any mistakes)

warnings: smut, weed, drug use, mdni

Oscar mindlessly lays sprawled out on his bed, his muscles aching from the gym earlier in the day. He tenderly rubs his hamstring, trying to nurse it back to not being too sore for his match tomorrow.

He has some music playing as quietly as possible, a pulsing tune of some heavy rap. It’s not really to his taste, but he’s bored with his own playlists at the moment. His phone is near the foot of his outstretched left leg, while his right leg is tucked up towards his torso, his knee pointing high towards the ceiling. Both hands are hard at work around his right leg, his fingers pressing into the tough flesh.

He feels a buzz travel through his left foot as his nails dig into his skin. He makes a note to cut them. He hears the buzz too, this time over the sound of the music. He sits up awkwardly, wincing at the strain on his leg. Using his left hand, he picks up his phone and checks the two new messages he’s received.

It’s Talia, unsurprisingly. She should be asleep, though, she promised him she’d start working on fixing her sleep schedule. He clicks the notifications, squinting to see the messages with the medical white lights flashing in his eyes in comparison to the darkened room.

tals🧡: you up?

tals🧡: do u wanna come over

Oscar shifts around in his bed so his back is pressed against a stack of pillows. He brings his hand away from his hamstring, ignoring the dull shoot of pain that runs up his leg once it loses his attention.

They don’t do a lot of sneaking over to each other's houses, simply because they can see enough of one another during school days, so it isn’t anything essential. They get in all the kissing, cuddling, and make outs they want to during the day, so if she’s suggesting this, it means sex.

Not necessarily just sex, anything within the umbrella of sexual activity. Oscar shifts his hips, trying to decide what he wants to do. They live pretty far from each other, meaning for him to sneak over, it's a 25-minute walk each way since he can’t just take the family car. It’s late—nearing midnight—and he’s sore. On the other hand, he’s horny.

And at Talia’s house, she doesn’t live with her parents. She lives with two of her close friends, skipped out on the college experience after her first year. Oscar didn’t get that luxury, much like his older sisters. Both of them lived at home for uni. But while she’s off now in France, he’s still a third year university student. Since her family won’t even be there, they don’t have to worry about being sneaky or quiet.

Oscar: Yeah. See you soon

He unplugs his phone and slips his feet into the pair of slides that are sitting at the foot of his bed. He opens his wardrobe, grazing his fingers over the line up of shirts that rest there. He grabs a graphic white t-shirt, wrestling it on. He cracks open his door, walking past his sister’s and the guest room, both vacant. His parents are on the level upstairs, so they can’t hear any disturbance he’s making.

He settles for catching the bus instead, unwilling to walk up to an hour. He sits down in a row of empty seats, ducking his head down and popping an earbud in. There’s a scarce number of other people on the bus, two girls sitting close together, their heads spinning drunkenly. An old man, greying hair and a newspaper in his callused hands.

tals🧡: come thru window. sammy will bark otherwise.

Oscar replies with the hard thought out reply of a thumbs up before re-pocketing his phone, staring mindlessly out of the window at the dark surroundings that whip by.

Oscar gets off at his stop 10 minutes later, and he’s the last person on the bus by that point. He approaches Talia’s house, not even bothering to go through the front door- Sammy would bark and wake the whole house up. He clicks open the gate, dragging it out only just enough to slip in. He walks across the side of the house, tapping on her bedroom window once he gets to it. He presses a hand to his pocket, making sure the pack of condoms he grabbed are still there.

The curtains swish open and Talia’s standing there, fiddling to get the window open. Once it's open, he feels a rush of cold air hitting him, accompanied by the smell of something almost like diesel. “Hey,” He grins as she leans down.

She narrowly avoids the kiss he’s going for, giving him one on the corner of his mouth. “Sorry- god, it’s dark,” Her shadow rubs her eyes, reaching out a hand to help him in.

Climbing in through the window isn’t a difficult task- just slightly uncomfortable. His crotch rubs against the window pane as he brings his second leg over into her room. Talia wraps her arms around his waist as soon as he’s inside. “Hi, Oscccc,” She looks up at him, her teeth gleaming white.

Just as Oscar is about to reply, the petrol smell hits him even harder. He crinkles his nose, confused as to what it is. “Tals, what the hell have you been smoking in here?,” He laughs, his hands grabbing at her ass to get her to wrap her legs around his waist. His voice is thick with sarcasm, Talia is the furthest thing from a druggy possible.

“Weed,” She rubs her lips into his shoulder, mouthing at the fabric of her shirt. Her mouth is dry, barely wetting the cloth. Oscar’s eyebrows knit, tensing in confusion. “Got a joint, was bored,” She mumbles.

He doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. At the same time, it’s late- his mind is cloudy anyways. He looks past her, at her bed where there’s a metal tin and a joint laying on top of it. Explains the smell then. “Fuck Talia,” He lets out a deep breath, “Maddie and Amber can definitely smell it,” He groans.

Talia laughs, her voice thick and loopy. “Nah, they cleared out tonight so I could do this.” She pulls away from the embrace, tugging him after her by his shirt. She falls back against the bed, her eyes clearly red rimmed from the dim lighting over her bed. “Cmonnn Opie, wanna get stoned with you,”

It’s so strange to see her like this, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t hot. It’s so unexpected, such a pleasant surprise from his usually wound up and rule following girlfriend. Oscar’s resistance weakens, the sight of her laying there- a goofy grin plastered across her voice is enough to make the strong man give in.

He hovers over her on the bed, a knee on either side of her hips and a hand on either side of her head. “You’re insane,” His mouth meets red, puffy lips for a kiss. She’s hungry for it, bringing her hands up to his hair to tug him down.

“More,” Talia begs, her voice breathy. Her pupils are huge and there's a spacey look in her eyes. Oscar teases her, shaking his head as he slightly resists kissing her any further than little pecks.

“I want a drag,” He whispers, reaching over her to where the blunt is precariously resting. He places it in between his lips, the bitter taste already seeping into his mouth. “Light it up,” He murmurs around the lump in his mouth.

Her mouth and ears feel as if they’ve been packed with cotton, his voice is far away and just barely a noise. “You don’t know how to,” She giggles weakly, her fingers pinching the fabric of his shirt that hangs down onto her.

Oscar gets off of her, sitting against the head of her bed. His legs are spread, his body slumped down comfortably. “Teach me,” He pats the space in front of his lap, his eyes looking up through his lashes. Talia’s mind is foggy with weed, lust, and need. She’s willing to do anything.

“Take this,” she pushes a plastic water bottle into one of his hands, already unscrewed and partially drunk. “You’re gonna cough a lot- the water will help with that,” she explains, leaning forward with her hands propped up on his quads, pushing the hem of his shorts higher up.

She reaches over to where the bottle had been and her fingers feel numb as they wrap around the lighter. “You feel good?” She asks as he twists the joint around between his lips. He doesn’t quite know how to answer, it feels like a question for after he’s actually smoked it. He nods regardless, tensing his leg muscles under her hands.

“I’m gonna light it, okay?” Another question from her. Her voice is becoming harder to understand, the true effects of the weed settling into her. It’s bizarre to him, this whole situation. “And you just try to inhale as much as possible,” She waits for a nod of competency from him before continuing. “Don’t let it just rest in your throat- it’ll burn. If you can’t do a lot, just do it in small bits,”

Oscar’s hand snakes behind her, resting on the small of her back. “Ready,” He mumbles awkwardly. She clicks down on the lighter and a flame flickers, wavering just below his nose.

“Don’t stress it,” She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed and his nails are digging into the fabric of her shirt. It’s almost euphoric at first, then it’s hell. Heat fills his mouth and he’s coughing and wheezing. He did exhale- probably too much.

He feels Talia’s hands all over him, her coldness contrasting against the warmth throbbing through himself. She takes the spliff from his mouth, sucking down on it herself. Oscar watches her hazily, his bottom lip tucked under teeth.

“How long have you been doin’ this?” The words feel as if they’re not coming from him. Jesus, surely he’s not baked already. He feels the heavy weight of the joint being pushed between his lips again, his question seemingly going unanswered.

He takes it, breathing it in again. He doesn’t let it rest in his throat, he focuses on the inhale. He doesn’t cough as much this time, but he still guzzles down what’s left in the bottle.

They spend a few minutes alternating the spliff, blowing air into eachothers faces. The room reeks of weed and it’s boiling hot. He wipes the back of his neck with his hand, a line of sweat gathering there. She twists the hem of his shirt between her index and thumb, pulling it up slightly. She doesn’t need to ask- he takes it off for her.

“I started when I first moved here,” She finally answers his question from earlier, dragging a thumb down his cheek, rubbing the back of his jawline. “I think one of Mads’ friends gave her a bunch because she was moving- couldn’t take ‘em. Us three smoked them one night, it was fun,” She mumbles. It means she’s only been doing it for about 3 years now.

He tilts his head, resting it against a pillow. She presses the pad of her thumb into his bottom lip that he’s unconsciously pouting out- asking for either another drag or a kiss. “Wanted to introduce you,” Her lips turn into a smirk, her eyes half-lidded.

“And why’s that?” He teases, his other hand moving down to her ass. Talia looks to the side behind him, a knowing look on her face. She pulls herself into his lap, effectively straddling him.

“I wanted to get high,” She states plainly, “and when I’m high- I’m horny. Wanted to be like that with you,” Her eyes are bright and her cheeky are rosy. Oscar kisses her cheek, experimenting with how his mouth is getting drier and more uncomfortable. Once he feels some moisture returning, he kisses further along her jaw.

She has the spliff in her mouth which forces him away from her mouth. He focuses on her jaw and neck, suckling near her collarbone. She moans, tugging his hair and effectively his head back up. She places the joint in his mouth again and pulls on the pillow behind him. He tilts his head enough for her to move it out of the way, leaving him laying down almost completely flat.

He watches dazily as she pulls her top off, leaving her in a lacy white bra. He reaches out, his fingers barely feeling her flesh. He knows he’s touching her, she’s making noises to confirm it. “ More , more , fuck ,” She’s begging, her voice so desperate. Oscar wishes he wasn’t so fucking spacey right now so he could see how wanton she was over him.

He tips his head forward, looking past where smoke is burning into his eyes. He’s apparently not just touching her bra, he’s touching her fully exposed breast. He hasn’t realised up until this point that he’s actually hard.

“Can I shotgun you?” She asks, her fingers snaking over his nipples. He whimpers at the touch and his mouth drops open around the blunt. He knows he’s out of it, but he’s consciously thinking enough to know that shotgunning is either claiming the front seat in a car, or piercing a beer can and then drinking it as fast as possible.

He settles with the assumption it must be the second one. He lols his head to the side, searching for where the beer is. “Yeah,” He hums, his hand dropping down over the edge of the bed and his hand swinging with the intention of hitting a can that isn’t actually there.

Talia laughs, tugging on his bicep. “Shotgun- I puff smoke into your mouth,” She explains, her voice all raspy from being so dry. Oscar licks over his teeth, his mouth still painfully dry. His mind feels empty, the only resounding thought is just talia, talia, talia. There are a few other ideas, sex stuff, nothing coming close to being as important as making her happy.

She leans forward, plucking the joint from his mouth. He gets a breath of fresh air and begins to gasp for it- a telltale sign he’s had too much in one go. He hollows his cheeks, cleaning the taste of smoke out of his mouth with spit. It’s a useless attempt as it’s already well stained.

She slides two fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his bottom teeth. She lays down on him, her legs still hooked around his hips and a hand pressing to the headboard above him. Their chests are pressing together, her boobs heavy on him. He stares at them, shamelessly, his cock getting even harder to the point he’s beginning to actually feel it.

“Can you suck my cock?” His voice is strangled and on the verge of incoherency because of her digits pressing into his tongue. She nods, kissing the tip of his nose. Her other hand is still holding onto the spliff, just sliding it against her wettened bottom lip. She finally sucks down on it, her lips twisting around it to keep the smoke in.

His mouth opens out of instinct, his eyes going bright just thinking about her mouth. The second their lips meet and he feels a slow release of smoke into his mouth, he feels like he’s dying. His eyes roll back and he grips a hand to the back of her head, pushing their mouths into each other’s harder.

He’s kissing her like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. It’s disgustingly dirty, a combination of spit, teeth, tongues and far too much moaning. Being stoned apparently just makes him feel everything . His lips are on fire, his throat is on fire, his eyes are on fire, his dick is on fire.

Their mouths pull apart, sticky from the remnants of lip gloss that Talia has on. He peppers her face with a few more kisses, desperate for the stinging burn. They look at each other for a few moments, a complete disconnect from the two of them and the rest of the world.

“You still want it?” She’s semi sitting up now, her elbows resting on where his hips are poking out from his low sitting shorts. His mind goes blank at the question, unsure of what she could possibly asking.

“What?” He lets out a puff of air, his hand mindlessly travelling through her hair. She nudges low down on his abdomen with her nose, making a weird squeaking whine.

“Suck you off,” She looks up at him, the green in her eyes barely just a thin ring around her blown up pupils. Oscar nods, shifting further down the bed. Her fingers hook into his waistband, an invitation. His eyes flicker shut, already wasted off the feeling of her hands tugging his shorts down.

Cold air whacks into the tops of his thighs, the dark fluffs of hair standing up. Oscar doesn’t need to tell her what to do, it seems like every time she’s gotten baked before this has been spent with her preparing for this.

Talia begins aimlessly mouthing at his crotch, licking and kissing over where the head is resting. Her mouth is wetter than his, seemingly soaked with saliva. He takes a drag from the blunt, his fingers retracting and stretching to scratch her head. She purrs at the motion, getting more eager around him.

“Cmon princess,” Oscar murmurs, helping to slide his boxers down to mid thigh. He doesn’t wince or shiver when it meets the cold air as there’s barely any time for it to do so. The second he’s fully undressed, her warm mouth is engulfing his length.

She bobs her head up and down, her lips tightening around his shaft and her cheeks hollowing for him. He’s pushing her head down without realising, the pressure is light but definitely suggestive.

She doesn’t gag, just takes him further. He encourages her with a string of moans mindlessly escaping his mouth, mixed in with ‘ oh god, good girl’ and ‘that's perfect, princess, keep going’. He’ll smoke or eat edibles every weekend if this is how getting head feels like when he does.

Her nose presses into his crotch, her throat muscles working hard to accommodate the intrusion of him. He tries to touch her, help her get off while she’s giving him the blowjob he’s ever received but the way she’s lying with the rest of her body so far away, he settles for focusing the pleasure elsewhere.

He rubs his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. She whimpers and whines, her moans choking into noises that sound like she’s crying. Her face is reddened and her hair is sweaty, her fringe plastered down to her forehead with sweat.

“Close, I’m close,” He twists some of her hair around his index, his middle finger tapping into the top of her hair. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and tensed eyebrows.

“In me,” She gags around his length. She doesn’t need to ask twice. He fucks his hips up into her mouth, forcing a moan and a gag from the back of her throat as he releases into her.

He feels spent, his body aching worse than it did back at home.

She pulls off slowly, her lips oiled with spit and cum. Her neck muscles flicker with tension as she swallows it down. That’s new. She’s strictly been a ‘spitter’ to this very moment. He wipes a drop of cum off her lip and kisses her deep. He tastes himself in her mouth but there's hardly any recognition for it. He doesn’t care enough to be disgusted about it, nothing about kissing her is disgusting.

“You’re perfect,” He slips his tongue into her mouth, tugging her up to be laying on top of him. “Wanna make you feel good,” He moves his head, kissing down her neck.

Talia lets out a noise of confirmation, “please,” she whines burying her fingers against his scalp. From the awkward angle he’s at, he slips her pants down past her ass, her underwear at the same time.

He rubs a finger over her wet hole, teasing it. She lets out a stifled whimper, burying her face further into Oscar’s chest. He slides the finger in slowly, watching the bits of her face that he can see intently. She’s shying away, forcing her face away from his view.

“You’re all shy now?” He teases, massaging one of her breasts with his palm. She doesn’t reply, just keens on him, desperate for more. He pushes his finger fully in, sliding it in and out. “Look at me, pretty,” He kisses her forehead, nudging the spot with his nose.

She reluctantly looks up before snuggling into his neck. It’s a drastic difference from how she was only minutes earlier. He pushes a second finger in, knowing her all too well that she’s needy for it. She groans, scraping her teeth down along his shoulder.

He groans, throwing his head back. He knows what he’s doing, not needing to even look. He pushes in and out, deeper and just as controlled. Her walls tighten around him, her wetness slicking down over his palm and around his wrist. His thumb joins in, rubbing along her clit.

“Oz,” it comes out all jagged and breathy. “Fuck- need to,” She can’t finish her sentences at this point, pushed so close to the edge. He gives her a whisper of allowance, his breath hot against her ear.

“Come for me,” He instructs her, his thumb applying more pressure as he feels a gush of wetness spill down his occupied hand. She’s gasping, panting for air when it happens. His body is still trying to regain full senses from the weed, barely noticing how deep her nails are digging into his sides, leaving red crescent moons into his skin.

Once she’s come down from her high, Talia rolls onto the space next to him on the bed. They watch each other, laying on their sides as they share the joint. They puff smoke at each other, laughing over absolutely nothing.

“You’re staying tonight?” Whether it's a statement or a question is unsure, just how she intended. Oscar cranes his head to where he can see the sun is peeking out and beginning to set.

“Yeah, I’ll stay right here,” He hums as the two of them both nod off to a hazy, stoned induced sleep.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x original character

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doitforbangchan · 8 months

Text

All Bark and No Bite

Chapter 1

It's here! This is the first chapter of my first real fic here on tumblr! I am not the best writer so please be kind :')

Series masterlist

Alternate Universe SKZ!

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

Previous - Next

Summary: There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation now replaced with another. After the omegas disappeared you have to extra careful, especially now that you have left your pack and family. What happens when your car breaks down on another pack's land?

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!)

Chapter warnings: Angst, anxiety, reader is VERY sad, minor violence, cursing, A/B/O (pls let me know if I missed any!)

MDNI 18+

Wc: 2400 ish

Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please.

You should have known better. All those hushed conversations your parents have been having, all the phone calls your father excused himself to take, even the trip to your packs doctor for a very extensive physical. None of it set off your mental alarm bells and that made you feel so stupid. But how could you have known that your own parents, the people who raised you and were supposed to have your best interest at heart, were planning on selling you off to the highest bidder once you became mature enough.

That's life for omegas these days, though. After a worldwide virus a few decades ago, omegas just stopped being born. The virus wiped the gene out almost completely, leaving a very small percentage of omegas left. Unluckily for you, you happened to be the only omega born in your area in the last 40 years. That made you highly sought after by alphas, especially dangerous ones.

Your hands were still shaking. It had been hours since you escaped your parents house in your car, yet you couldn't get your hands to stop shaking with the immense adrenaline you’re feeling. You had no plan, no money, nowhere to go and no one to help you. Your only friend, Ash, was a beta girl in your pack and as much as you liked her you knew she could do nothing to save you now. At least your car had a full tank of gas, the only good thing your father had done for you was allow you to drive to Ash's house on occasion.

All the adrenaline was starting to wear off as you drove, the realization of what this would mean for you and your life now starting to sink in. The constant looking over your shoulder, the uneasiness you will always feel, it was almost too much to handle. No. What would have been too much to handle is letting that filthy man get his hands on you. Kim Hongjoong.You had heard about the things that alpha had done to claim power over his pack. From sabotage to murder, none of it was good. From what you could gather he was on the search for an omega to complete his pack and somehow had heard whispers about you. The only known omega within a few hundred miles. He wanted an omega to raise his children and help him lead his pack and would do anything to get his hands on one; whatever necessary.

You imagine the sum of money he offered your parents was just too good for them to pass up on. Your alpha father was too proud to accept anything less than a hefty amount. Your mother was an omega through and through. Obedient and submissive to her alpha. Just as she raised you to be. She herself was a rare omega. Though back in her day the omega population wasn't as low as it is now. Now the numbers have fallen to less than 0.2%. Your mother molded you into the perfect little doll. Almost. Never in your wildest dreams did she or your father imagine you, their doll, would be disobeying and running from all you had ever known, yet here you are. That's what real fear does to a person. Fight or flight. All your life you had been all bark and no bite. Now this is your way of biting back.

All you had to your name was this old car (technically your fathers), an old backpack with a few changes of clothes, and couple cans of spaghetti o’s. Luckily this car had an old map in the glovebox. Better than nothing especially since you had no gps and no phone. You knew better than to take the main roads. Your pack would undoubtedly be looking for you and the car. Back roads it was then.

You couldn't tell exactly how many hours you had been driving at this point, too caught up in your mind to really pay attention to the time but by now it had gotten very dark and you found yourself on this old road going through a small town in the woods. You vaguely remember passing through the small community about half an hour ago. Of course you hadn't stopped in the town in fear of being noticed or recognised somehow. But now you’re wishing you had stopped at that little gas station and at least tried to get an ounce of gas with the spare change left in the middle console. The car was officially running out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. Just your luck.

“Are you serious?” You asked no one with tears starting to fill your eyes.

Feeling the difference in the vehicle causes you to pull off to the side of the road with a groan. You know it won't be going any further with the way it just gives up there on the side. Turning off the car and leaning your head against the wheel you let out a light sob. This wasn't the life you had envisioned for yourself. Once upon a time you thought one day you would meet your true mate, a caring alpha who would love you for you and want to make you happy. Seems as though that was just a fairytale after all. Even your parents weren’t true mates. They just settled for each other. You knew you couldn’t let that be you. You wouldn’t settle, especially not for a vile man you didn't love.

It was too late now to leave the car. This is where you will be staying for the night. Good thing it was late spring and not winter or you would freeze out here. Once your tears have slowed and the sobs have ceased you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You will be ok.” You repeat to yourself a few times. “You will be ok. You will be ok.”

Will you though? It didn't matter. You had to be. With one last sigh you locked the doors and climbed into the backseat of the old car. Its seats were worn and uncomfortable but it somehow felt comforting. It felt like the last remaining bit you had from childhood. When things were simple for you. Were things ever that simple as you remembered it being though? Before presenting as an omega when you were 16 things were definitely simple. You had assumed along with everyone else that you would be a beta and go on to have a normal life. Sure sometimes you were a little agreeable and always had a gentle nature, but you had just thought you took after your mom in that aspect. Little did you know you would take after her in a different way. It wasn’t until you presented that it made sense to the pack why you were that way. It was then that the looks began from other pack members. The way their eyes would linger on you a little too hard. The way their nostrils would flare when you entered a room. It made your skin crawl thinking back.

From that point on there was no more public school for you. You were homeschooled the last few years of high school for your protection. “We're doing this to protect you not punish you, Y/N.” your father had said when he forbade you from going back to school. “You can't trust anyone these days. Not around an omega.” He was right. The thought never crossed your mind that you couldn't even trust your own parents. You wished you had been born a beta like your sister, or even an alpha like your brother. Being the youngest out of three you figured you would be like them.

The worst part was you didn't have the suppressants you had been taking since you were a teen. They were almost impossible to come by normally, but your father had somehow gotten his hands on a steady supply and had been forcing you to take them. Another thing that was for your protection. To keep alphas from detecting you by scent. You hadn't taken any this morning before you left so you imagine your scent was going to start leaking out for any one nearby to smell. Great. Another problem for tomorrow.

Adjusting yourself on the seat to lay down as much as you could, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. It wouldn't be long before sleep overcame you. The exhaustion of the whole ordeal catching up with you.

__________________________________________________________

The sun peaking through the trees awoke you from your surprisingly restful slumber. It seemed to be early morning if the dew on the windows was any indication. Peeking out the window you saw nothing around. Not even any animals. Perfect. You slowly unlocked the door and crept out quietly shutting the door behind you. Taking careful steps a few yards into the thickets ahead of you and relieving yourself helped you feel a little better. You made your way back to the car and took a second to breathe. In and out. In and out. The air was crisp and refreshing and helped you clear your head.

Now feeling a little better you noticed how bad your stomach was growling at you. Reaching into the trunk of the car you pulled out a small can of spaghetti o’s. Not your first choice of a meal but when you panic you grab what you figure will be easiest to take with you. Plus you could use a can as a weapon if needed!

Eating was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but now you knew you could no longer put it off. Popping a can open and taking a seat on the hood of the car with a spoon you dug into the food. It was….. food . Cold and disappointing but at the same time satisfying as you had an empty stomach.

There you were, sitting there on the old car contemplating your next move from here with now a half full can of disappointment, when you catch a scent in the air getting stronger with each passing second. It was another person, no it was people. More than one.

Fuck

You have been found. Whether by the packs that were after you or by a stranger it didn’t matter all you felt was terror.

There was no time to flee. Before you could even move from the hood you could feel a pair of eyes on you to the right of you. You twist your head to face the eyes that are peaking out at you from the trees ahead.

The stranger takes a tentative step towards you and comes out from hiding and you immediately go into fight or flight.

With an alarmed shout “NO”, you launched the half full can of spaghetti o’s at the intruder, hitting him square in the chest and sending the cold contents all across his shirt.

“What the fuck?!” the possible assailant yelled.

Spotting another figure approaching the first one you threw yourself back off the hood and onto the ground, then as quickly as possible you yanked the door open to the car and jammed yourself in locking it immediately. You made yourself as small as possible as to not be seen by them but you knew the damage had been done. There was no way out of this. No gas in the tank and even if there was you had no idea where your keys had gone.

You could hear them talking but you were too frightened to pick up any of the words except girl, mess and Alpha. Now you really felt terror. Without realizing how close they had been to you, you let out a shriek when there was a sudden knock on the window next to you.

Not daring to look at them for even a second you yelled through the glass “Please go away! Please please I don’t deserve this!” tears filled your eyes.

__________________________________________________________

The smell of your distress was making Seungmins and Jeongins eyes water. They had never experienced such a powerful scent before. Not even the odor from the Spaghetti Os covering Seungmins shirt would distract from the one coming from within the vehicle. The beta wanted to be mad that she had pretty much assaulted him, but at the same time couldn’t find it within himself to care much given how much pure terror he smelled coming from the young woman. The omega.

The young alpha Jeongin felt similarly now that he had eyes on her he felt this overwhelming urge to protect. He had never encountered one before and honestly thought he never would but now that he was laying eyes on her he felt his alpha side perk up. A part of him never wanted to stop looking at her.

Honestly the boys didn’t know what to expect when they came out here to investigate the scent that had appeared on their land late into the night. They truly didn’t expect the cause to be an omega girl that was holed up on the side of a path.

Seungmin tried knocking again, a little more timid this time so as not to frighten her more. “Excuse me, we could smell your distress. Do you need any help?” He asked slowly.

You spared him one quick glance then shrunk into yourself again. “No thank you, please go!”

He sighed and stepped back a few feet to look at Jeongin in amazement at the situation. Giving him one small nod he said “ We need to call Chan.”

__________________________________________________________

What felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, passed and you stayed in your same position. The boys had remained there but not so close to the car anymore to which you were thankful. They were quietly mumbling amongst themselves, no doubt about an omega being caught out here alone. Every so often you would move your head just slightly to peer over at them. You hadn’t noticed before in your initial panic but they were pretty cute young men. A beta and an alpha from what you could tell. Even covered in your thrown breakfast (a shame about that really) they still managed to carry themselves proudly. Though your smell is causing their faces to scrunch up, you could tell it was taking it's toll on them.

Not even a moment later after taking another look at them you could feel the change in the air as another pair of people was approaching. Not just anybody was coming this way, it was an Alpha. A very strong one at that. The smell was starting to permeate all of your senses and was quickly becoming intoxicating.

You could sense him before he even appeared. No matter how intrigued you may be though you can’t show weakness.

‘Keep your head down and wait it out’ you kept telling yourself like a mantra.

You knew he was approaching your door. It took everything in you to remain still. Then as if struck by lightning you felt your body alight like it never has before.

“Omega..”

(A/N: Please do not steal my writing and content! Reblogs and comments are encouraged tho 😙once again i would LOVE to hear your thoughts and theories! This has not been beta read all mistakes are my own.)

TAGLIST

@ihrtlix @realrintaro @meowmeeps

#stray kids x reader #skz smut #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #felix lee #seungmin #jeongin #ot8 x reader #skz ot8 #skz abo #omegaverse #stray kids #abo #dom chan

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year

Text

I Know Him

(Platonic Alfie Solomons x step daughter reader) (Background Finn Shelby x Reader)

Summery: Alfie Solomons is in for a surprise one morning when his soon to be step daughter greets him with a hug. Which wasn't unusual in itself, but he never expected it to happen at Tommy Shelby's house... or while she was wearing Finn Shelby's clothes....

A/N: Hi Y'all! I don't think there are any TW's for this! I just wanted to write a fluffy and funny idea about Alfie realising his sweetheart's daughter is dating a Shelby and she's just absolutely oblivious to their past. Also as with all of my Finn stories both him and the reader are over 18. Enjoy! ❤️

WC- 4.0k

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was dreaming.

Yes, that had to be it. She couldn't really be here could she? It wasn't really her was it? Smiling to him at seven in the morning at his friendliest enemy's house? In..... is that the little one's shirt?

He had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation to it.

At least that's what Alfie Solomons told himself once he saw his sweetheart's daughter waving at him when he walked in the front hall of Tommy Shelby's house that morning. Not only was she waving, but she was practically jumping up and down in excitement when she saw him, eager to see the man who would be her stepfather one day....

"ALFIE!! Is that you!!! Hi!!! What are you doing here?! My mum said you had a trip this week!"

Bouncy Excitement? Speaking at sonic speeds? Criminal amounts of energy for this early in the morning? Almost falling face first on the floor in her rush to hug him?..... Yep. This was his Y/N.

Automatically, Alfie returned the hug, something he'd grown more than accustomed to doing with his fiancée's daughter. Especially when it had been a few weeks since he'd seen you. You were born when your parents were fifteen, and now twenty years later, you were in your second year at a university, halfway between London and Birmingham. Your father had tragically died during the war, and it had taken your mother almost a decade to start dating again. And if by a storybook miracle, she'd fallen helplessly for the single, "semi-retired", grumpiest neighbor in Margret, who often walked with a cane and whose only friend seemed to be his dog. Three years ago they'd met one day when Cryil had lost his collar and you had found him sitting pitifully under a tree....not even two gardens down from his home. But you hadn't know then, and believing the dog to have no family, took him back to your house. It wasn't hard either, as soon you held out your hand, Cyril was up, eagerly following his "new master" and it wasn't until the next day Alfie showed up, having heard the familiar barking. He'd been searching for Cyril all night, only to finally hear his yapping not even two doors down. Furious at the idea someone had kidnapped his best friend, Alfie had come over, knocking angrily on the door, with half a mind to take up his "old" profession. But when the door opened, instead of a grisly old bastard, Alfie was met with the closest thing to an angel he'd ever seen. It wasn't just her beauty, but her voice and the kind way she looked at him that captivated the man. And then when he looked inside the house he'd seen another young woman, laughing as Cyril attempted to sit on her lap in the small chair. And he wouldn't realise it until a few months later, but that would be a sight Alfie wanted to see every morning. A year later, he'd officially started going around with your mother, though the secret was well kept from any of his business associates. Alfie also saw the younger woman herself as his own child now too. He'd even taking to calling you "Shiny" after your sunny disposition. He wouldn't admit it, but Alfie definitely teared up, more than once, on the first day the couple dropped you off at your University. He also wouldn't admit how he'd never been more nervous than six months ago when he'd asked you for permission to propose. You had obviously said yes, but not before staring at him silently for six minutes with a gaze that could make any Shelby break into a sweat. Speaking of Shelbys ....

"Y/N why are you hugging Alfred Solomons?"

Alfie looked up at the stairs and saw not one, but at least four (and a half) different Shelby watching him from the stairs. Now he could have chosen to make fun of the mess that was Arthur's hair, but instead he focused on someone else. Because Arthur's hair may have look like a drunken bird's nest, but it was Finn Shelby who'd spoken.... And it was Finn Shelby wearing the matching pants to your shirt. So it was Finn Shelby who was currently in a lot more danger than he was five minutes ago. Truthfully, Alfie had only talked to the young man twice and hadn't been bothered by the quiet Shelby too much. In fact, he might even go as far to say the he favoured Finn the most because he'd talked to him the least. And the more the Shelbys talked to Alfie, the less he began to like them. But the sight before Alfie was enough to send Finn Shelby right to the top of the "excruciatingly painful death" hit list he promised your mother he'd "lost" long ago.

"FINN! Look! It's Alfie! I've told you about him haven't I?"

Finn himself was still half asleep, but he'd heard your surprised shout from the bedroom when you went to the bathroom and wanted to make sure you were alright. Only he thought he was still dreaming when he saw you embracing the man who had caused his family so much trouble before. Evidently, your excitement had been brought to more than one Shelby's attention and now he was standing with Arthur, Linda, Lizzie (holding Ruby), and John at the top of the stairs. All half awake and just as confused. Most of them were wondering if this was going to be another Grace situation.... But you hadn't noticed any of that yet. Hurrying up the stairs, you'd grabbed Finn's hand and brought the still tried younger man down to "meet" Alfie. Once the two men were situated in front of each other, you spoke the words that shocked both of them wide awake.

"Finn meet Alfie, my step dad. And Alfie meet Finn, my Boyfriend."

"STEP DAD?"

"BOYFRIEND!!!"

"Ahhh yes!! Isn't it great!! You two get to meet for the first time!! Ohh you'll love each other so much!!"

Oblivious to the shock of your companions, you bounced on the balls of your feet, eager for your favourite two men to finally meet. From the top of the stairs, John had rushed off to wake up Esme and Ada, while Linda was coaching Arthur through breathing again. Lizzie just sipped her tea silently as baby Ruby clapped at the drama. Finn stared at the floor, trying to process what he'd just heard. In the end, it was Alfie whose shock was broken first.

"No."

The bouncing stopped and it was your turn to look at Alfie confused.

"What do you mean no?"

"You're not dating him Shiny."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, Alfie I am." You said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're dating him?"

"Yes!"

"Did they kidnap you? Are they forcing you to say this?"

"No?"

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure I'm not kidnapped?"

"He asked you out and you agreed?"

"He took me for dinner and a movie!"

"You agreed to be with him?"

"Eagerly!"

"You and him?"

"Him and I!"

"Him?"

"Yes! Isn't he brilliant!"

Eagerly, you looked towards your boyfriend who looked offend by the fact Alfie didn't seem to believe you could ever have any interest in him. Sure, Finn occasionally questioned it himself multiple times a day, but still. Though you payed no attention to his annoyance and wrapped your arms around your love, happily hugging him to yourself. Then you turned around facing your soon to be step father again, with Finn's arms still wrapped comfortably around your waist as they had been when you'd woken up that morning.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why Ally? He's brilliant! He's nice and strong and respectful. He takes me on fun dates and he listens to me. He lets me hug and kiss him whenever I want and he's not afraid to tell me how he feels, though it did take a bit to get to that part! He lets me hold his hand and steal his shirts and he doesn't mind it when I ramble a lot. And there's a whole bunch more too but that's just the tip. I ran into him at a race with my friends one day and we just clicked. Isn't it great! He treats me exactly how you treat my mom and I think that's brilliant! Finn's brilliant!"

Alfie froze for a second thinking about his options. On one hand you obviously knew nothing about what the Shelby really did for work and must not have realised what you were getting yourself into. On the other hand, you were one of the smartest people Alfie knew, and if Finn really did treat you like Alfie treated your mother, you'd know about his past by the second date... And you'd chosen to accept that. Alfie didn't know which idea scared him more. But right now he could see something else. You were happy....Very happy. Genuinely happy, in the fact you looked at Finn the same way your mother looked at Alfie... Shit you were in love with him. You loved Finn Shelby. And despite the sleep deprived confusion over the boy's face, Alfie had noticed the little spark in Finn's eye that lit up then he'd seen you. Alfie had seen the way Finn had pulled you slightly closer when you'd spun in his arms. You loved Finn Shelby and it seemed he loved you too. Shit. So despite his general distaste for Shelbys, Alfie did the last thing he wanted to do....But he did it for you. Because just like did your mother he'd do anything to see you smile.

"Well then gingersnap. If you treat my girl that nicely... then I guess it's alright to meet you isn't it?"

Somewhat begrudgingly, Alfie stuck his arm out toward the younger man. Finn stared at the arm, hesitantly, as if the moment he touched it, Alfie would pull him on to a knife. And truth be told, if he'd known it wouldn't make you mad, Alfie may have done that. But seeing your beaming grin, made shaking hands worth it. The hidden wince on Finn's face as Alfie increased his grip also seemed to get the unspoken message threat across. One tear from you and every peace deal between the families would be off. And all types of retribution would be fair game.... if your mother didn't get rid of Finn first that was.

And finally it seemed Finn had processed your earlier words. He had also noticed your eager face and wanted to proceed with caution, careful of crushing your spirits. Obviously you'd mistaken Alfie for your real stepdad? The man you told Finn about so much couldn't possibly be the one who'd thrown his oldest brother in jail and betrayed Tommy every other weekend? Ada and Esme had joined the "observation deck"(second floor balcony) now, and John had gotten his gun incase things went south. Tommy was still no where to be seen.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah Finny?"

"You said this is your step dad?"

"Yes.... well technically not for a few more months, but the wedding is soon and he's basically already it!"

"Right...but Y/N? You said your step dad was a nice older man who lived by the sea? He's a bit grumpy, but really sweet and likes to make model boats?"

"Yeah he does! This is him! You'll get along great!"

It was Alfie's turn to look slightly offended now. He wasn't that old, and it also occurred to him that while he told your mother about his "past" job, Alfie had never actually explained it to you. You genuinely thought Alfie was a retired baker. Sure, every now and then he'd tell you he was heading to London to consult another friend who was still in business, but that was it. And since you weren't raised in the big city, you really had no knowledge about Alfie's old job. Suddenly, he was dreading the imminent conversation more than ever before.

"This is him? Are you sure?"

"Yep! I think I know what the guy banging my mum looks like Finny. Not that I ever see it...ew... but you know, Cyril doesn't get locked out of the master bedroom for anything!"

It was a good thing Alfie still had his beard because it helped hide the slight reddening of his cheeks and ears then. It wasn't that he was embarrassed about repeatedly making love to such a magnificent women, it was one of his proudest achievements actually...... but there was something about the fact her daughter knew that made him want to hide... just a little bit. Finn's face also turned red at the mention of Alfie's physical love life.

"Alright love, I believe ya. Just no more about his bedside manner alright? I don't wanna picture that."

"And I don't think I want you picturing it witchy."

"Finally!!," you cheered, clapping your hands quietly, happy both men finally seemed to understand what was going on. But then it brought you to your next question.

"Alfie?.... Why are you here though?.... oh please don't tell me my mum sent you to pick me up?"

"What no, your mum wouldn't do that...wait she knows you're here? What's she got to say about the lanky carrot top here? And how long has this been going on?" Alfie used his fingers to point between your shirt and Finn's pants, indicating what specifically the last sentence meant. Slightly tired of all the questioning you sighed.

"I called her last night to tell her. It was too late to go back to my apartment and Finn said I could stay here. His brothers were fine with it too....ohh have you met them? I think you'd like Arthur! He likes boxing too, ya know!....but she knows. Also don't call him the lanky carrot top, that's mean. And it's been going on for almost a year now. Not the sleepovers, but the dating bit. We met right before summer break and you know....kept meeting up."

"A fucking year! Hell Shiny, when were you gonna tell us?" Alfie was shocked once again. You'd been dating Finn a whole year and hadn't mentioned it? A small part of him was hurt too, that you hadn't told him yet. He vividly remembered only a couple years ago, when you'd barge into his house looking for Cyril and just start telling him all about your day. Finn stood by just watching the observation, rubbing his red hair self consciously. It wasn't even that red, was it?

"ALMOST a year, and to be fair we hadn't make it official until a few months ago. I just didn't mention it because I wasn't sure if he was really into me or not....But he was, which is great! And I actually told my mom last month and she said I could bring Finn over next weekend maybe to meet him. She was suppose to tell you.... OHH WAIT! I have an idea!"

You were bouncing again, pleased with your new plan. Your mum said you could invite Finn to the house next week, and even though from your calls she seemed to like him, you knew she wasn't just gonna let him slide right into your bed....figuratively speaking. You were her only child and knew she wanted to make sure you were being treated right, so you figured she'd be a bit hard on him at first. When speaking on the phone last week, you'd also overheard her asking Alfie if he'd mind coming over early that day. You knew she wanted him around for a bit more intimidation. The big, dark, grisly figure standing in the shadows, while she interrogated Finn about his intentions. But maybe this unexpected meeting could work in your favour.

"This is great!! Since you and Finn have just met, and you seem to get along great, you can help me show him off to my mum next week! You can vouch that's he's as good as he looks!"

Alfie just stared at you.

There wasn't a single world in which he wanted to positively vouch for any Shelby. Especially one who apparently thought it was acceptable to get within ten feet of you..... without a shirt too. But then again, you had this slightly infuriating way of looking at Alfie. One smile and he was suddenly letting you paint fucking flowers on his fence to brighten the front yard or blowing up who knows what in his backyard. He really did give you too much power sometimes...

"You want me to vouch for him!"

"Yes, I mean you don't have anything against him do you?"

"Fucking actually..."

"What the hell is going on?"

Finally, Tommy showed up, his boots slightly dirty from the barn outside. He'd woken up early to check on the pregnant mare. Only he came back inside to find almost his entire family staying in the front hall, in their pyjamas, along with Y/N and Alfie. The latter of whom he didn't realise was up. If he'd known Alfie was awake, Tommy would have skipped the horse today. If only to insure Alfie didn't go rummaging around. On top of that, Alfie was shooting Finn a glare, hard enough to make Tommy shiver, not that he showed it. What his youngest brother had done to deserve that baffled him, but Tommy had some idea it had to do with the young woman grinning ear to ear.

"Well?"

"Oh! Morning Tommy! Have you met Alfie? He's my stepdad!"

Tommy's nose wrinkled slightly and his lips drew into a thin line. But his eyes went wide and his brows furrowed in confusion. That was probably the last thing he'd expected to hear that morning.

"What?"

This time it was John who spoke up from the top of the stairs, eager to see more drama.

"Yep Tom! This one here is the spawn of Alfie's soon to be missus! Isn't that something?"

Tommy looked at you, and then Alfie, and then you again, then Finn, and finally back to you. Not because he didn't like you, but because he remembered the past, Tommy glared at you lightly.

"Are you a fucking spy? Because I won't have you going around with Finn if you're going to be sharing everything to Alfie here. And you better tell the fucking truth."

Surprised and slightly scared by his change in tone, you took a step back. Despite his reputation, Tommy had always been nice to you, if not a bit reserved like he was with most people. So hearing his "boss" voice was a bit jarring. Annoyed by his tone towards you, Finn and Alfie both stepped forward, glaring at the man who had spoken. You stared in confusion at Tommy for a second, before shrugging and laughing like he'd told a joke.

"Spy? I'm not a spy. What are you talking about Tommy? That's a funny joke though. Y/N the spy.... na I'm a terrible liar. Can't keep a straight face for the life of me. But why would I spy on you for Alfie? He's got nothing to do with the races or any shipping company like you run. It wouldn't make sense for me to share all your plans with him."

Behind you, both Alfie and Finn were drawing lines across their necks with a hand. The universal symbol for "don't say a fucking thing, change the subject", but it may have already been too late. You had glanced behind yourself to see if Finn had liked your joke and noticed the cutting motions of the two men. Suddenly your eyes widened, and you started looking between Alfie and Tommy, and then Alfie and the rest of the Shelbys. It was like a light flipped in your head and internally, Alfie winced at what might occur. But once again you surprised all of them.

"Wait! Are y'all working together!!.... Oh y'all do know each other! Alfie why didn't you just stay that in the first place? I wouldn't have made you shake Finn's hand again. That's why you're here isn't it? Y'all have business together? Are ya partners?"

Alfie cleared his throat and prepared to tell you the inevitable. Sure, he knew he should tell you he was a semi retired gangster, but he was slightly worried when you learned, you wouldn't look at him the same way anymore. He was afraid you'd be a bit scared of him, and for all intents and purposes, Alfie didn't want his kid to be scared of him.

"Well, Shiny... yes we are working together. You see..."

"OHH I KNEW IT! Are you gonna start selling bread at the races? I think that would be a great idea!! Like alcohol is great, but it would be so nice to have a muffin or something too.... OH OH OH ... I know! Alfie you should sell your sugar rolls! Finn you have to try them they're so good....Alfie has this special apron he wears when making them."

Alfie groaned at the mention of the pink apron your mother had gotten him last holiday. You really were just revealing all his secrets weren't you? And he couldn't even wack you over the head like he'd do with anyone else.... Finn process your words and then stared grinning as big as you were. He loved it when you started to go off on a tangent. After all it was a brilliant idea too. Finn always got hungry during the races. He was always hungry in general, but the anticipation of what horse would win made him hungrier than usual.

"That is a good idea! I get hungry at those and they never have any snacks. Why don't we do that Tom?"

Tommy just furrowed his brows again, completely lost to what was going on. That was one thing he realised when he first met you. See Finn, when given the chance to speak, could jump from topic to topic within minutes and never seemed to go on a straight path. You did the exact same thing....but much much more. And while it was amusing to watch at times, it could get dizzying when you and your boyfriend went round and round in circles. And if they didn't stop it quick, this would be one of those times.... It was too early in the morning for that. So Tommy interrupted.

"Yes! That's exactly what we're doing. That's why he's here. To make plans to sell bread at the races."

It was a lie of course, but even Tommy could respect Alfie's wish to tell you on his own time. Besides, it wasn't actually a bad idea. Alfie nodded his head in agreement like they hadn't planned on robbing a train last night.

"Yep Shiny, you got us. I remembered you mentioning it once, and thought why not see if I could pitch the idea. Didn't know you'd be here though. Kinda ruins the surprise so just promise to act like you didn't know. Be as sightful as my half blind eye yeah?"

Laughing, your rolled your eyes at your stepfather's joke, before yawning into Finn's chest. The early morning hour was starting to get to you again. You really had only come to use the bathroom before noticing Alfie. Now you just wanted to get back in the warm bed for a bit longer.

"Deal, alright. I can keep my lips shut. But only if you also add the knot shaped chocolate pastries to the menu too! Those are my favourite."

Finn's stomach interrupted the conversation causing the both of you to laugh. Even the mention of food was enough to bring his appetite back. Turning to your boyfriend you hugged him again, revelling in the warmth you loved to burrow into. Standing on your toes, you reached up to whisper in his ear and he smiled softly before nodding back. You turned to the rest of the room and addressed Tommy.

"Welp this was nice, but can we go raid your pantry please? It's been at least seven hours since this one's eaten, so soon he'll start to shrivel up."

Good-naturedly, Tommy rolled his eyes, he knew it was Finn sneaking around the kitchen only three hours ago. He was the only one who closed up the bags of food he stole from by placing another bag over the messily folded edges when he couldn't get a knot tied in the dark again. Finn was also the only one who made peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, leaving the dirty knife and plate in the sink for the next morning.

"That's fine, you two can go off, Alfie and I here have to finish a few details for the deal."

Giving Alfie another quick hug, you and Finn headed off leaving the rest of the company in the main hall. His arm was around your shoulder and they could see you laughing at something Finn whispered in your ear. Alfie watched for a moment. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad. At least you hadn't stated dating Sabini's nephew. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the top of the stairs Arthur leaned over to John.

"Does this mean we can't slash his tires anymore?"

".....Eh probably."

"Fuck, was looking forward to that."

#Finn Shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #finn shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #finn shelby #alfie Solomons imagine #alfie solomons #Alfie Solomons x reader

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cheralith · 8 months

Text

vogue — 「 boss/fashion designer!geto suguru x reader 」

synopsis ; even without much knowledge in the world of fashion, you decide that it's in your best interest to work for the country's fashion magazine powerhouse. however, you begin to second-guess your decision when you're faced with the grueling labor of its one and only editor-in-chief who expects nothing less of perfection. can your efficiency meet his standards or will you be out the door before you can even blink?

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, use of they/them pronouns, mild language, traditional japanese basis of (l/n) (f/n) used, reader wears glasses, makeup, and heeled boots, some mild manga and jjk 0 spoilers (three minor characters from each are introduced), uhhh suguru being a dick lawl, some parts not edited/not beta read

contains ; editor-in-chief!geto, fashion designer!geto, assistant!reader, assistant turned ****!reader, platonic roommate!ino, modern au, mild angst, some crack if you squint

word count ; 10.2k

notes ; heavily inspired by "the devil wears prada" and "paradise kiss", so there'll be some references i've dropped within this—see if you can spot them! also the censored is spoilers so until then, hehe.

now playing ; seven days in sunny june - jamiroquai

It’d be foolish not to know the household name of Geto Suguru, the ultimate male muse of Jun Takahashi whose title has yet to be reigned by another. He was the ultimate breathing mannequin of the iconic Yohji Yamamoto piece he had worn on the Milan runway back when he was just a teenager. It was one of the most staple pieces of the new century that helped open the gates of the mixing of world culture and avant garde fashion—an England-Japanese punk fusion of an ashen and tattered kasaya layered under the contrasting statement piece: the earth-toned gojōu-gesa splattered with weaves of gold—and it was that very piece that rose him to the top of the fashion world as one of the most powerful names in global fashion.

And how could he not? At seventeen, he was scouted as a model for Gaulthier and became his muse at the ripe age of twenty before several other worldwide designers began to fight for his eyes. It was only a few shrewd years later that he’d open up his own successful fashion line, RIIKO, named in honor of his late sister, resulting in it becoming one of the fashion line pillars in the modern century.

It didn’t take long after that, due to his fame and distinct education from Jujutsu University, rising to the top for Kaizen fashion magazine and ruling it with an iron fist and several cups of coffee with almost all his designs on display for all to see in the office. It was due to his work that Kaizen became the powerhouse of powerhouses of fashion editorials and magazines and it was solely his work that made fashion what it was in present times.

Whether it was direct or indirect, Geto had impacted the industry in all sorts of ways. Be it blossoming an upcoming supermodel’s name or setting new fashion trends, everything could essentially be traced to Geto Suguru.

So it’s understandable that many had called you a fool—a dimwit, even—for not understanding how big of a deal it was to become his junior assistant after lazily submitting your resume. Originally, you had just wanted to become a simple lifestyle journalist for papers like Sankei Shimbun or The Japan Times, but seeing how it was between a seemingly mysterious fashion magazine that mentioned, received gasps, or the measly and homely newspaper of The Hokkaido Tribune, a magazine you knew would only give new journalists the scraps of what they earned, the choice was obvious.

Whatever gave you more money, you’d take. Survival of the fittest, was this world not?

“Do not tell me you’re going to your interview at Kaizen wearing that?” Ino barks out a laugh as he finishes his morning cereal for breakfast, scanning your outfit. “You’re going to work in a fashion magazine, not some dingy corporate office.”

You sneer at him as you shove on your loafers (don’t mind that the leather is peeling slightly on the side). You think that there’s nothing remotely wrong with your overused gauntlet gray matching set of trousers and blazer with a slightly wrinkled button-up underneath it.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at your roommate and parttime brother figure. “What on earth do you know about fashion?”

“Enough of it to know that outfit is atrocious for that type of environment,” he states simply as he shoves a donut in his mouth. He kicks his feet up on the table, making you cringe at their nakedness. “Trust me, change if you can. Make a statement for ‘em.”

Ino Takuma sighs and glances at your thick spectacles that you’ve worn since early college. “And at least change your glasses for your contacts. Heard they don’t like those sorta things over there. At least not the prescription kind.”

“Can’t find them,” you grunt when you feel the weight of your shoulder bag heave down your body. “I’m already late, anyway,” you sigh, “Listen, if I don’t come back alive, which I will by the way, then you can dance on my grave all you want.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he chants before he lets out a haughty snicker that gets muffled instantly when you slam the door on him.

You throw insults at Ino in your mind, grumbling about how a mere job hopper like him wouldn’t even know the speck of fashion, how you refuse to take advice from someone who wears the same thing every day. There’s nothing wrong with the gray, you think. It’s safe and presentable, ordinary and professional, and you’d much rather blend in than stand out as you believe standing out and making yourself known is just a recipe for trouble.

Stretching out a hand on the street, you call for a taxi and humbly enter as you smooth out your trousers. The taxi driver eyes you in the rearview mirror with a questioning glint in your eye. “Job interview?” he asks.

“Oh, um,” you nod your head. “Yep! I'm a little nervous, haha.”

“Really?” he says as he gratefully steps on the accelerator a little faster. “Better get you there quick, then. Would hate to have you late. Where are you planning on working?”

“Kaizen Magazine,” you declare confidently, an affirmative look on your face.

“Kaizen?” questions the driver slowly as his eyes go to scan your outfit in the mirror again, his brows raised. “As in the… the fashion magazine?”

You nod with visible apprehensiveness. You think that maybe you truly were the only person in the world that didn’t know the impact of Kaizen, seeing as how a mere taxi driver even knew about the name and you didn’t up until a few weeks ago.

“I see…” he mutters. The drive there is a mix of silence and everyday morning conversations, before he pulls up to the building that held the key to your dreams. “Well then, here’s your stop.”

You let out a little gasp of excitement. “Thank you so much,” you reply as you shove some cash into the slot.

“Hm, well,” the taxi driver counts the money carefully, barely looking just before you close the door as he mutters, “Good luck, Plain Jane.”

You turn back to the taxi, your hearing a little awry. “Sorry, what was that?”

But when you turn back to the yellow cab, all that’s left is a billow of smoke and cinders. Dazed and confused, you quickly shake those feelings off before you head inside to the building that was now your shining beacon of hope with a determined smile still plastered on your lips. White is the first thing that greets you when you enter the building as it was essentially aired out onto every corner. White marble counters, white tile flooring with white grout, white frames of fashion icons—the white screams pristine and perfection to you and its message went very much noticed. You haven’t even met Geto Suguru yet, but you understood already that he expected nothing but excellence.

You ride up the elevator quietly and alone, trying not to focus on how your anxiety increased with each ding of the passing floors. The elevator screen seems to almost taunt you as it closes in on your doom, the numbers getting closer to the designated floor until it slowly pauses and shone brightly the number 21 in stippled red.

The doors slowly open and the light seeps itself back to your vision, white flooding your senses again. You carry yourself carefully down the hallway whilst taking your time to admire the many framed pictures of past magazines, multiple runway models, and scraps of newspaper articles. One specific piece catches your attention, however; it was large, almost half your body size and framed in a gilded black frame. It was a picture of a mannequin wearing a tawdry gray-black robe with the kanji characters of “summer” painted with purple messily atop. Layered was a loose, but well-fitted piece of thick green and gold cloth that looked much more refined to the messiness of the other materials.

You stare at it for what seemed to be forever whilst admiring the contrast and beauty of the work before your name is called out.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?”

Your trance breaks from the voice approaching you. You turn to see a short and young woman with dark blue eyes staring at you with a raised brow. “That’s you I presume?” she asks.

“Oh! Uh,” you nod furiously and smooth out your trousers again. “Yes… yes, that’s me. I assume you’re Manami Suda? The one I spoke with on the phone?”

She nods slowly, her eyes going to study your outfit which was a rather stark contrast to her own attire that highlighted an emphasis on shades of opal and navy. Her eyes have a similar glint in the way that Ino’s and the taxi driver’s had, further enunciating the message that your attire was rather… something.

“I see you’ve dressed up for the occasion,” she murmurs. Sarcasm going undetected by you, you grin as a response and think that a compliment from her was a sign you did something right. Her eyes go to rise back and meet yours again before she turns and redirects you to the end of the hallway where some rooms belonging to subordinal editors sat in, clacking away at the computers. There was one singular room that held the only door on the floor and it doesn’t take you long to assume who it belongs to considering the large letters of GS frosted onto the glass.

Two desks stood on each side of the door, one completely devoid of life and decorations. Manami guides you to the empty one and patted the top of it. “This will be yours if you manage to miraculously pass.”

Manami taps on her clipboard a couple of times, listing off a couple of requirements that you were most likely going to need in the future: efficient time management, ability to fight for what Geto wants, sharp memory, quick feet…

“And uh…” Manami flickers her eyes to you and the details (or lack of, in this case). She mutters under her breath quietly, “... a good wardrobe.”

You turn to her, internally wondering if you were going deaf today. “Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“A good, warm…” she squints, obviously finding the right word to keep that ignorant smile on your face. “... welcome to start off his day.”

She succeeds in her task as you merely nod with the same blatant grin attached. “Got it!”

Manami tours you around the floor of the office, letting you say hello to your future coworkers that work in the cubicles that send you worried looks behind your back. They obviously seem too pitying of you, knowing that your fate would be sealed as Geto’s potential right hand man the moment you signed that employee contract.

“This is Human Resources,” Manami gestures over to a room filled with chattering employees who seemed to be getting their gossip out before their day started. “You’ll contact them if you have any—” her phone dings suddenly. Casually, she pulls it out, only for all of her resolve to disappear in an instant. Manami then abruptly blows a whistle with her teeth, alerting everybody in the radius.

“Everybody! His morning facial was canceled!” Manami hollers. “Geto is coming in…” her phone pings again with another notification, and you can tell Manami’s heart instantly drops. “Oh God… he’s in the lobby! Everybody, places! You,” she snags the sleeve of your blazer and drags you along with her, your clunky loafers nearly tripping you. “Come with me.”

Manami takes back to where you first started and orders you to stand in the front of the blank desk with a look that screams both fright and anxiousness all in one. She lists off too many tasks that you need to do before he comes, but you’re so frazzled with trying to remember how to act in front of your future boss that you can’t even remember the first thing she told you.

“Help me arrange the drafts of the magazines from most recent to least recent before he—”

The elevator dings and all goes quiet; Manami tosses the magazines over her shoulders and positions herself firmly in her place, gesturing for you to do the same. The doors open and unveiled from two bodyguards is a man—a tall man, around six feet or perhaps even taller—dressed in noir fitted pants and a matching button-up closed only halfway to reveal a silk navy turtleneck. Caped behind him is a black velvet trenchcoat that you’re sure is worth half your rent and a watch plated on his wrist that is well over your life savings. He’s slightly sunkissed, with blue-black tresses of hair with a soft bang sneaking through and large plated earrings to match. His eyes, however, show a tint of color—a sharp dark amethyst that you think could cut through you like crystals.

But he’s almost hauntingly attracting—like a spirit. Something about him was an enigma and his aura was nothing less than powerful.

“Good morning, Geto,” Manami chants with an artificial happiness to her tone.

Geto doesn’t reply, just merely giving a silent blink before he sheds his coat off and tosses it aimlessly towards Manami. It proves to be heavier than anticipated, giving how she fights to groan from the weight of it. He’s handed his briefcase from one of the bodyguards and begins to open the door to his office until he pauses and turns and glances at you, the stranger.

“Hello,” you state with a slight bow. “I-I’m one of the interviewees for your junior assistant. My name is—”

“(Y/N),” Geto murmurs; his voice is soft and low. It’s all knowing, with indigo eyes boring into your own. “(L/N) (Y/N), I know. The one that graduated from Jujutsu University recently, yes?”

Adjusting your glasses to wave away the blurriness, you nod with anticipation. “Yes, that’s me.”

Geto turns back and opens the door, to which he only replies back, “In my office.”

You glance at Manami for confirmation, only given back with a jut of her head towards the door. All the unease you felt in the elevator comes hurdling back to you in an instinct and you feel as if you were no more than a peasant to someone that was essentially royalty in the fashion world.

Geto turns his chair to face away from you, shuffling a few papers over each other that appears to be your resume, before he spins it slowly towards you. He kicks his feet up lazily on his desk.

“It’s nice to have another Jujutsu alum to join us,” he says. His voice is still the same—a little baritone with a wisping edge of a whisper to it, but it almost sounds… bored. Unamused even. “A bachelors in print journalism… same as mine, hm. Tell me, is Professor Tengen still as loose as ever with their practices?”

You fight to fiddle with your glasses as you watch as Geto tangibly toys with his own, with his focus angled on the papers in front of him rather than you. “Um, I assume so. Though I believe they’re actually retiring this year.”

“Good,” he sighs in what seems to be relief. “Shame that the university had wasted time and money by hiring them. Truly, I hope they can find someone much better suited for their position.”

“Really?” you quietly question. You had only taken their class a few semesters ago and thought despite their rather… all too lenient disposition… you did learn quite a lot in their class. “I thought they were a rather alright teacher…”

Regret pools in your mouth from the moment you have finished your sentence. Geto finally goes to look at you from the edge of his glasses with a sharp look, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

“Tengen was merely a sorry excuse for a professor. They were rather nothing but a nanny who gave their students too much leeway,” Geto declares. “Though, I’ll admit, I am pleasantly surprised that you managed to take something out of that class.”

A laugh that’s just dripping with nothing but nervousness leaks out of your lips. “I suppose I had learned just a few things…”

“Mmh,” Geto nod nonchalantly, eyes drawing back to the papers. “Well. Let’s start with the basics. Why exactly do you want to work here?”

Geto already feels the cliche comments erupting. Had the person in front of him say at least one of them, he was ready to insert the papers he was holding into the nearby shredder. Or maybe out the window this time, he wonders—something nice for a change.

“I was inspired by your work.”

“It’s been my dream to work at Kaizen.”

“Fashion is my absolute passion.”

“I want to—”

“I’m just in need of a job, really,” you say lifelessly.

He goes to raise his head slowly from the packet and turns to you slowly. Geto doesn’t say anything, but his facial expressions indicate a blend of confusion and intrigue. A slithering tongue darts out to slick his lips, indicating you’ve piqued his interest. “Well, obviously. But why this job specifically? What about it stood out to you?”

You clear your throat. “I had learned recently that Kaizen is a rather prestigious mag—”

“‘Recently’?” Geto repeats quietly. “You hadn’t heard of us before?”

Lips thinning, you shake your head slightly. His eyes go narrow again to your dread, serpent-like. “My specialty is more in newspapers rather than magazines, I-I’m not too knowledgeable in that area.”

Geto goes quiet and the silence makes the air go thick. It’s then that familiar glint sparkles in his sullen eyes when they go to examine your choice of clothing—it confirms Ino was truly right in the end, as he lets out a smile-less chuckle that doesn’t do much to ease your brain.

“Continue,” Geto gestures and takes off his glasses to look at you, or you suppose your outfit, more properly. He folds his hands and places his chin on top of them. “You said you only learned about us not too long ago?”

“Yes, and I realized that perhaps working here for a while would, at least I hope, grant me access to other media houses,” you explain. It’s only then you realize that your declaration sounds absolutely ludicrous and almost disrespectful to the editor-in-chief of the most iconic fashion magazine in the nation. “Connections are quite powerful in this day and age, haha…”

“I suppose,” Geto mumbles with not much interest in your poor humor. “What about me? I do hate bragging but surely, you know about my name or at least my fashion line?”

Your hesitant countenance and silence tells Geto all he needs to know. He thinks that it’s almost some sort of marvel that no one has heard of him or his works before.

He sighs. “Do you have any experience working in any fashion-related activities at least?”

“Well, I once worked in a department store for a few months back in high school,” you say thoughtfully (and ignorantly).

Geto gives you a blank look. His blinks are apathetically slow.

“Um,” you clear your throat again and shake your head, timid. “N-no…”

“Then tell me,” he continues smoothly. “Why exactly should I hire you? You obviously have no taste in fashion and you hadn’t even heard of my name, let alone my magazine, until recently. What is there within that makes you want to work here other than you just… what was it that you said?” He air-quotes mockingly, “‘needing a job?’”

Your throat runs dry and limbs go stiff. A heat rockets to your face when you seemingly can’t get any words out to excuse yourself, much too caught up in the same of your ignorance towards Geto’s profession. And that’s all the response he needs to make his decision.

His hand takes the packet again and to your horror that you fight to keep in, inserts it into the paper shredder. The groan of it rumbles through the room agonizingly and you realize that Ino is going to have the time of your life planning your doomsday.

Geto gives you the mercy of breaking the thick silence first. “You may go.”

With a swift flick of his wrist, Geto dismisses you with a slight edge to his murmuring as he puts back on his glasses to examine the morning newspaper to not waste any more incessant time in the day.

You don’t even attempt to fight back with any poor excuses. Tears prick the corner of your eyes, the sting of them frustrating you to your wits end. Instead, you gather the last of your resolve and bid him through a strained throat good day and make your leave, humiliation and disappointment trailing not too far behind.

You hope that Ino will give a nice eulogy, at least.

Out of all the miracles that await you in life, you do not expect the one that comes in the form of an early morning phone call that wakes you at the ass-crack of dawn. When you pick it up with sleep still very much embedded in your eyes, it dissipates in the instant you hear Manami’s voice. It’s only then that it hits you why on earth she was calling so early and why she was demanding to know your whereabouts, claiming you were going to be late on your first day of work.

You think it’s some sort of cruel joke maneuvered by Ino, especially with how his comforts from last night were mixed with taunts. But when Manami’s voice finally registers in your brain, by some sort of miracle or stroke of luck, you have gotten the job as Geto Suguru’s junior assistant.

You don’t know how, but you don’t waste any time questioning how on earth you landed in such a position because you leap out of bed at 7:23 a.m. and manage to do your morning routine in the matter of what you think is a record-breaking fifteen minutes. Your ruckus manages to wake up deep-sleeping Ino, who, when you excitedly tell him to postpone your funeral, gives a groggy thumbs up before drooling back into his pillow. It’s 7:38 a.m. when you shove on your shabby coat and you realize you only have a mere twenty-two minutes left until you have to officially clock in for work.

At 7:40, you’re out the door and sprinting to the located coffee shop that thankfully wasn’t too far from where you lived.

At 7:47, you’re at the designated cafe whilst attempting to swim through the crowds of morning bustlers to pick up Geto’s coffee.

7:50, you’re sticking your hand out waving desperately for a taxi and tip extra to make the driver speed through as you attempt to make sure the coffees don’t spill out of their containers.

7:58, you arrive at the building and just barely make it into the narrow gap of a tight-fitting elevator, earning stares from the others from your rather… frazzled appearance.

At 8:02 a.m., you dash out the elevator and officially clock in for your first day at work at Kaizen Magazine amidst a birdnest of hair, clothes that were plucked out of your hamper, and what you pray to the heavens above are hefty layers of deodorant and perfume since you were given no time to shower.

When Geto comes in that day, all suave and composed, he takes one good look at you before sighing and focusing his attention to the more refined Manami and lets her take the gears for the day. The only attention he gives you that morning is the rough toss of his heavy coat—a cashmere pearl peacoat today—flung at your arms that nearly makes you tumble from its weight.

You quickly learn that working for Geto requires high demand and maintenance, as he is not one to skip over any details in his day. Not even three hours in your first day, you already have to plan out his future meetings, reschedule one with a rather feisty and insistent client, edit a forest of emails, finishing by dashing out five blocks on foot to the two michelin star restaurant to retrieve Geto’s weekly steak for lunch. Had this been your old corporate job, you only would’ve gotten half the tasks you had completed by the end of the usual eight hours, but you realized early on that you had barely scratched the surface of your future in Kaizen.

You think that after plating his steak with the shakiest of hands, you finally have time to relax during lunch time when you see the small hand of the clock finally hit 12:00 p.m. , especially since you and him were left alone in his part of the office together. But the moment that Geto saunters into the office again, he tends to you once again with a final task by himself.

“(Y/N),” he calls from the office, the scrape of his fork against ceramic cluttering your ears agonizingly.

You fight the urge to cringe from the sound as you scurry to the doorframe, hands stiffly intertwined together. “Yes, Mr. Geto?”

“No need for such formalities,” he remarks with the dab of a napkin to his lips. “They make me feel old, and I’m surely not much older than you are…” you think that’s the longest he’s spoken to you since the day had started. “Did Leibovitz confirm?”

Blinking, you tilt your head ignorantly. “D-did who confirm?”

He pauses and does that taunting slow rise of his eyes from his steak to you. “Leibovitz. Did she confirm?”

Silence fills the office, much like the silence that drowned you back at the interview. He clicks his tongue and dismisses you with a disappointed shake of his head. “Just go on your lunch,” he mutters, sighing.

Manami, the savior that she is, is called into the office after her break and is asked the same task and you watch with humiliation whilst packing your things to go on your lunch as she picks up the telephone and speaks to someone over the line before confirming to Geto that, “I’ve got Annie!”

“He hates me, Taku!” you cry out whilst flopping onto the dinner table. It’s ten in the evening and you’ve just come home after what was supposed to be an 8-5 shift. You suppose you should be used to this already after two months of working for the Lucifer donned ritually in white in the building, but you don’t know how much your sanity (and body) can take.

Normally, Geto is usually cold to those who he wasn’t familiar with, but you think that his distaste for you sours everyday. You notice that he’s beginning to pile you with the more urgent and busier duties and that he often stares you down more menacingly in the morning with those piercing purple eyes of his, like you were gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe. You thought it was just him being normal Geto Suguru, the man with the expectations higher than the clouds, and that you just were still adjusting to such a high-intensity environment, but it was today that your world came crumbling down when you overheard him muttering to his associates about you, tone icier than ever.

You were on the other side of the door, a fist going to rap on the glass with the other holding his afternoon coffee pick-me-up when you heard it.

“... can’t even do the most miniscule things right,” Geto had groaned. “I ask if Lanvin’s models are all good to go for next Thursday’s shoot and somehow, they have the nerve to ask ‘How do you spell Lanvin’? For fuck’s sake, I can feel my goddamn conscious just wither away by the second.”

You hadn’t heard Geto swear since you had started working there, but something about his venomous tone enunciating such words had made your blood run cold from the other side of the door. Not having the courage to face him after that, you left his coffee on Manami’s desk for her to tend to with a post-it note saying a sorry excuse for yourself before letting your eyes sob frustratingly in the bathroom, isolated from others.

The last time you had cried that hard was way back in childhood, where you had broken your arm from falling down a tree branch. But you think that Geto’s words had twisted through your skin and bone much harsher than that pain ever will.

“It’s a miracle how I haven’t been fired yet… I don’t even know why he hired me!” you wail.

Ino sighs from across the dinner table and you can’t tell if it’s a sigh of pity or a sigh of criticism. You learn that it’s both when he rolls his eyes at you whilst simultaneously pushing a plate of much needed food towards you.

“First off, you need to eat,” he presses, staring at your gaunt features. “The way your face is swallowing is making me feel like I’m living’ with a ghost. You’ve lost some weight, I’ve noticed.”

Awareingly, you touch your cheekbones and realize he’s right, for you feel the small disc of sharpness from them prick your fingertips. They’ve never been so cavern before. You suppose it’s because of the lack of proper meal time between your days and how you often eat small and very late dinners back at home, truly not enough needed fuel for you.

“Secondly,” Ino chews his tongue, wondering if he should really say what he’s about to say because of your current disposition but goes through with it anyway. He might as well rip the bandaid off now to let more time for the wound to heal. “You won’t like what I’m ‘bout to say, but you need to up your game. Severely.”

An aching body rises up from the table. You go to stare at Ino through glazed eyes and a pouty lip, asking him what he meant.

“Ah nope! Don’t give me that face and don’t play coy with me,” he hisses, looking away to not give in to your helpless puppy eyes. He can’t—he shouldn’t give you the easy way out and just say to quit—not when you’ve been earning so much bank that rent isn’t a problem for either of you anymore. He wonders, though, for a moment if so much money is worth your rationality.

He drags a hand down his face before placing his chin on it, examining your haggard appearance. “What I mean is that you need to see through Geto’s eyes. See what he sees when he looks at you. Tell me, if you had an assistant that showed up wearing things that looked like they were plucked from the clearance bin at a thrift store and didn’t show any respect for your brand, which just so happens to be a fashion magazine out of all things…” Ino eyes you with a raised brow. “You startin’ to follow me?”

Your fingers fiddle with each other. “... sorta.”

“Now listen,” he raises his hands up lazily in surrender. “I already know what you’re ‘bout to say about me not knowing’ how to dress in shit other than black and more black, but even I know that you should put in more effort into your appearance. That’s the first step.”

“But I have—!” you exclaim helplessly, “I-I swear, I’ve been trying to… but it’s not my fault that it isn’t up to his standards.”

Your roommate groans and rubs his forehead, not really knowing what else to do for your situation until an idea pops in his head. “Free up your weekend,” he demands with a sly grin that makes you a little uneasy. “I’m no fashion connoisseur, but you know who is?”

“And remember, we never touch anything with chevron on it, especially in today’s fashion world,” Yuki chimes as she slaps on a navy blue pageboy cap on your head and she prances about your bedroom that’s been littered with spare clothes from her very own closet she graciously gifted to you for the past weekend. “I’m so utterly relieved that the trend has dug its own grave.”

The past weekend had been filled with endless shopping trips and you shuffling in and out of clothes every minute, practicing how to pair items and colors together by Yuki’s teachings. Of course you should’ve known that Ino was going to contact the one person that he was within reach that was essentially a walking encyclopedia when it came to fashion. You’ve met Tsukumo Yuki before, found her to be quite delightful even, but you never anticipated she would be this giddy, especially about clothes of all things.

And she used her brain to good use for not only clothes, but the entirety of yourself. You never knew how much just a simple haircut could do your face along with small hints of makeup to emphasize the best parts of it. Dared not your hands go to a lash curler, but here you are now, making sure your powder compact and lipstick for the day was in your bag before you went out.

“Uh, I don’t think I ever mentioned this before yet, but thank you for helping my wardrobe out, it really means a lot,” you say just before she slides on a pair of gold bangles on your wrist. “Are you sure you wanna give these clothes to me? I’m okay with just borrowing them.”

“Nonsense, babe,” she wavers off before shuffling through your now-hearty closet, a closet that’s now bursting with many clothes given by her. “I needed space in my closet anyway, so take as much as you need.”

So (Y/N)’s closet is basically her trash can, a particular shaggy brunette thinks with a roll of his eyes. Ino fiddles with the piece of toast in his mouth as he leans on the doorway, watching as Yuki essentially treats you like her very own Barbie doll at such an odd morning hour.

“(Y/N)’s not a doll, Yuki,” Ino lazily calls aloud through a tired yawn. “You better get ‘em out the door soon or else they’ll get late for work. Especially need that money since the landlord’s been on our ass about increasing our rent…” he mutters, sniffing. “Damn bastard.”

She snaps at Ino to be quiet and let her work before she shuffles on a regal blue overcoat over your shoulders that completes your look. When you look at yourself finally in the mirror, you almost think there’s a stranger in your house from the way you look so dignified compared to the you just three days ago. It’s a simple outfit with not much layering, but it’s still enough to ooze charisma and elegance to wandering eyes. You’re adorned in a white weaved sweater with flared, light-wash jeans and white boots to match. Over the outfit lies the coat that drapes almost like a king’s mantle behind you and the pageboy cap as your crown.

Yuki creeps up behind you, her manicured hands on your shoulders affirmingly. “How’re you feeling, hun?” she asks quietly as she shares the same sight with you in the mirror. “Don’t you look wonderful?”

You know that it was all her work, it was all her creativity that made you into the artwork that you are now, so breathlessly laugh with a smile on your painted lips and thank her quietly once more before whispering, “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

Her eyes study you for another minute, going to stare at the glasses still atop your face. Yes, they were new and much more modern considering she quite literally called your old pair atrocious, snapped them in half, and tossed them over her shoulder, but she was still quite dissatisfied when you told her about your hesitance about using contacts. “Are you sure you don’t want to give contacts another chance?” she sighs.

You shake your head with a small smile, “I’ll feel completely naked without them,” you murmur, “Besides, I think they actually compliment this look, if I’m being honest.”

Her lips stretch out into a grin, too absorbed in her fashion education finally being used.

“Well then!” she begins to drag you by the sleeve out your room. “We wouldn’t want you to be late then for your first day as the new you, right? Let’s get you a cab!”

Somehow, you think you really are at your first day at work again from the way you feel that same fluttering in your stomach and from how the people you’ve once grown accustomed to seeing in the early mornings are not merely passing you with mundane nods of their heads but instead, greeting you with wide-eyed gawks and open-mouthed smiles. Some of them, a few who you knew but never spoke a word to, even do a double take and compliment you aloud on the new look. Even the cute barista in the lobby that never bothered to spell your name right at last did after finally taking a good look at the holder of the card.

When you exit out of the elevator, Manami nearly drops the pile of magazines she’s holding when she spots a refined and refreshed you. You offer a bright smile to her and you watch as her gasp slowly forms into an affirmative grin when you round your desk.

She laughs softly. “And who might you be?” she asks with a tease in her voice. “‘Cause last time I checked, that’s my coworker (Y/N)’s desk.”

“I murdered them,” you shrug nonchalantly, earning another chuckle from her. You take it as a good sign, great even, considering up until now, Manami had been rather stoic and a little indifferent towards you because of your amateurism; but now, you suppose that ditching that Plain Jane from just two days ago is finally beginning to do you good by finally grounding a proper relationship with her. “Shame, isn’t it? Poor thing.”

“Truly,” she nods. Her eyes trail further down until they spot something that makes her gasp. “Don’t tell me those are—”

“—the new calfskin gold studded Louboutin boots?” you finish for her. You flex your ankle and show off the ravishing red bottoms of your shoes. “Oh yeah.”

Manami squeals in excitement and rushes over to your desk, begging to take a look at them. “How on earth did you manage to get your hands on these?! I’ve been looking for them fo—”

The elevator dings again but with a tone that makes you and Manami flinch. Both of you stiffen and straighten out your posture, falling into a thick silence when out comes Geto traipsing out like he usually did—his aura being nothing less than dominating. You and Manami chime out in sync a good morning to him as he saunters towards his office as he begins to shuffle off his coat as usual to toss to you until he looks up and catches you in his field of vision.

He stops all of a sudden with his eyes dancing about your figure, a stark contrast to the rest of his paralyzed body. Geto’s lips thin all of a sudden, and so do his eyes when they scan your outfit. He takes in a sharp breath and opens his mouth to say something to you, yet nothing comes out, even as your eyes glisten with anticipation.

It merely instead zips itself close and he finally whisks himself into his office, coat still on and briefcase still in hand, and slams the door shut.

But not without glancing at you one last time.

Much has changed in the past month for the better.

Yuki was a godsend—she had been your guardian angel, your fairy godmother of sorts—because you swore your career life had taken a complete 180° the moment your closet was revamped. Ever since that makeover, you had felt so much more confident in your actions, so much lighter on your feet. The price of your efforts was beginning to pay off as well, as Geto began to slowly thaw his icier sense of self when you began to actually put effort into your appearance. His thrusts of his coat towards you began to become less aggressive, was significantly more lenient when it came to more of the impossible tasks, and had at one time actually muttered a ‘good morning’ to you and Manami after months of greeting with silence and judgemental glances.

She’d occasionally check up on you every once in a while, usually to offer new clothes that she didn’t want anymore. And by offer, it actually just meant packing them in a box from her place to yours with a post-it that’d usually read “With love, YT ❤” in neat cursive. Along with forming a close bond with Yuki, your relationship with Manami improved significantly, especially when you gave her those white Louboutins she was eyeing. She often invited you to lunch with her other friends, Larue and Remi.

The iconic John Galliano once said that, “The joy of dressing is an art.” A month ago, you would’ve never believed what you would think is a rather tacky statement, but now, you can truly see it to believe it. It never occurred to you to actually look at your surroundings closely, but you often would sometimes take a few seconds out of your day to admire the many colors and materials that would adorn your coworkers. Whether it be admiration for their sense of style or mild jealousy over luxurious pieces, you were finally understanding what makes fashion, fashion.

And your epiphany was awarded today with the task that you thought would never come into the light of your days working for Geto—being tasked with dropping off The Book.

The Book was a collection of pieces that were needed for the upcoming edition of the magazine, regarding it as being the most important item in the entire company. It was a duty that usually Manami tended to, but she hypothesized that you managed to finally get on Geto’s good side after a while and congratulated you. Manami spoke to you briefly about how trivial The Book was to both Geto and Kaizen. She told you about how you must guard it and Geto’s key to his penthouse with your life, and that you were to remain absolutely invisible to him if he was in the apartment. Manami told you because it was usually the hour he needed most concentration—it was during the later hours of the day that he usually mended last minute edits to the edition or he was working on his latest fashion collection since he was only able to work on it during the weekends as Kaizen took too much of his time.

Manami told you he would most likely be found on the second floor of his penthouse, and you were to remain on the first floor at all costs.

“The editors will finish The Book around 10:30 or 11:00 at night, wait in the office until then. Then, drop the book off at his penthouse at no later than 11:30 with his dry cleaning, too.”

Her words echo in your mind as you tiptoe out of the cab and look up to see a gleaming, glamorous building sitting in the heart of the city. It’s one you’ve passed a plenty of times—hell, you pass it on your way to work—but it never occurred to you that it’d be this antique white, Parisian-styled building that would be the abode of your boss.

“Take the elevator to the top floor and enter his apartment. Do not call out his name, don’t wander around, don’t even make a single sound. You are nothing more than a ghost when you step foot into his house.”

The only doors that are on the very top floor of the apartment complex are two large metal doors that sit before you. You enter the key into the keyhole and push them open with controlled force, closing them as quietly as possible with Manami’s whispers still floating about your head. You knew that Geto was certainly a man of luxury, but to see that wealth exempt in a form other than fashion was a sight that you weren’t sure if your eyes deserved to feast on. Sculptures and paintings decorated the foyer and hallway, adding occasional splashes of color to the ivory-adorned apartment. After hanging the dry cleaning in the designated coat closet, the first room you enter - and perhaps the only one you’ll ever be in - is the said living room with the glass coffee table sitting in the center of it.

“Place The Book on the coffee table in the living room. That’s it. Do not toddle any longer in his house and get out immediately. Don’t let curiosity get the better of you and just simply go afterwards. It’s for your own good.”

But oh, how curiosity is just a little devil of temptation that sits far too easily on your shoulder. A house holds the most of a person, and Geto is just an all too mysterious enigma for you not to at least dip your toe in. The doors at the end of the hallway are waiting for you, but so are the picture frames that sit atop the TV stand. You suppose… maybe another minute wouldn’t hurt.

Your feet carry you slowly to the stand and you crouch, adjusting your glasses to get a better look at the pictures. There’s only two of them—six by fours, both in oak brown frames. The first one is a picture of a smiling young girl with short chestnut hair sporting a smile with a cigarette between her teeth. Beside her are two boys taller than her, both making similar faces at the camera. One of them, the one that’s a little taller with silvery snow hair and opaque black sunglasses, throwing a forced, all-too wide grin that almost looks maniacal. It doesn’t require much brain power to know the other figure in the photo is a younger Geto Suguru, his hair shorter in a tight bun with a rare, but soft grin on his face, his gaze affectionate to the others.

The other picture is of the same two boys arm in arm with each other. Both of them are grinning now, with the white haired boy still smiling a little more largely than the other. It doesn’t take long for you to assume who the other boy was considering that the shade of purple sheathing his twinkling eyes is unique to only one individual in your life.

Best friends, you suggest in your mind as you study the pictures a little longer than needed. A minute, you thought, wouldn’t do much harm, but how utterly wrong your thoughts prove when you suddenly hear the slam of a door from the floor above. The crash of it makes you yelp and breaks you out of your trance from the pictures and your gaze suddenly snaps to the open stairs above you, as well as two voices echoing aloud.

“Y-you can’t—” an unknown voice wheezes. “I’ve been your muse for years. You possibly can’t just abandon me out of nowhere…”

“You say that as if I’m not doing that right now,” a familiar one replies back boredly. It’s Geto, and his voice makes your nerves electrify in fear because it’s in that moment that you remember that you can’t get caught inside of his house. “This is the last time I’m telling you, Shigemo. Get out.”

The man that you assume is Shigemo heaves heavy breaths. “You need me,” he declares.

“Needed. Past tense,” Geto corrects as he almost forces Shigemo down the stairs with an invisible force surrounding him. You can see their figures above you, Shigemo slowly stepping backwards with each step Geto takes forward. “You’ve done me well these few years, I admit, and I do thank you for that. But I suppose your expiration date has finally come.”

“I’m not a food,” Shigemo snivels. “I’m a person. Most importantly. I’m the reason your fashion line flourished, I was the inspiration for almost all your works. We’re essentially a team.”

They’re towards the end of the staircase, towards where you are still present in plain sight. Your eyes scatter about a place to hide in the meantime, but there are seemingly no places to hide that would hide you well without the notice of Geto’s eyes.

“A team?” Geto barks out a sarcastic laugh, one that makes shivers run down your spine from both the rarity of the sound and how utterly intimidating it is. “I work alone and I always have. There is no point on relying on anyone of any kind when my independence obviously pays off.”

“Who will you have then?” Shigemo retaliates with a whimper in his voice. “You know that I’m the only one that will tolerate you. It’s not like you can go crawling to Goj—“

“Finish that sentence and see what happens,” Geto hisses, causing the other man to fall into a forced silence.

Your eyes finally land on the small space between the fireplace and a pillar. It’s a space large enough for you to fill and efficient enough to hide you from sight. Unsticking your feet from the ground, you make a run for the small space, only for you to forget about the obstacle that was the ottoman sitting spitefully on the floor.

The thud that comes from your body almost rivals the volume of the door slamming open moments earlier and just like the door, it attracts unneeded attention. Geto and Shigemo stop their bickering for a moment to search for the cause of the sound, only to see you humiliatingly face first on the floor. Geto narrows his eyes at the sight of you, an unwanted visitor in his home.

A pained groan slips from your lips accidentally. You silently curse yourself for not taking the time to properly break into the tantalizing loafers Yuki bought you the day prior and wince at the pain blooming from your knees and chest. When you finally get up, you can’t help but notice that everything around you seems rather… hazy.

“Who is that…” Shigemo mutters.

Geto bites back a sigh and instead, pinches the bridge of his nose. He supposes that despite your improved mannerisms, your clumsiness still has yet to dissipate. Annoyed, he grunts out, “One of my new assistants.”

Shaking his head, Geto decides to deal with you later. His home is already suffocated with one individual, he doesn’t need another clogging the atmosphere up. He returns his attention back to Shigemo. “I thought I told you to leave,” he states, shoving his bag towards him.

Shigemo’s face paints a horrified expression once again. “Geto, please rethink this,” Shigemo pleads.

He lets out a chain of pleads and excuses for himself as Geto essentially escorts him out with just walking towards him, his face still icy. Shigemo ends up on the other side of the door to his penthouse and it’s there where his patheticness exudes the most—he falls on his hands and knees like a beggar, claiming he’d do anything and everything just to be by his side.

But his voice is suddenly cut short when Geto finally slams the door in his face, the thickness of them guarding him from Shigemo’s whines. He lets out another sigh and locks up the door securely before dealing with the other parasite in his house.

“I don’t think dropping off a book should take longer than thirty seconds,” Geto drawls as he saunters towards the living room, where you’re still on all fours on the floor, your hands tapping around. “So tell me, why are you still here?”

At the sound of his sharp tone, you freeze. You’re sure you looked utterly stupid and a mess right now, considering that you had just lost a fight to an ottoman out of all things, but you couldn’t let Geto see you in such a state. It didn’t take you long to realize that the reason why everything around you looked so blurry was because of your now-missing glasses that you attempted to look around for. But you pulled a Velma, and just like her, you can’t see without your glasses.

Everyone thinks it’s an exaggeration when you state that you felt utterly naked without them, but you truly did. You’ve been wearing glasses ever since childhood and you really didn’t appreciate the looks you had gotten when you were younger when at times you’d take them off. Some complained that your eyes were too small, too big—others mentioned you looked “off” and “weird” without them. Either way, comments from the other children stuck with you like scars, and ever since then, you refused to be seen without them.

“I a-apologize,” you stutter, shuffling your body to hide behind the recliner so Geto wouldn’t see how much of a clutter you are. You’ve humiliated yourself too much already in the office and the last thing you truly need is for you to get fired merely because your curiosity got the better of you. “I was about to head out and th-then I heard your voice from upstairs and—”

Your words fall deaf on Geto’s ears. He lets out another groan while stretching the aching muscles in his neck as he closes in on your disorderedness. A hand goes to shield your face—you don’t want him to see the bareness of your face, especially since you didn’t bother wearing makeup today. You can’t even bear the thought of him looking at it. In a rushed state, you wander around for your glasses with your head tucked in, using the remnants of your hair to curtain your face.

A jumble of excuses tumble out of your quivering lip, but Geto is too preoccupied with the gleam of something catching his eye. Laying flat on the floor are a pair of glasses that doesn’t take Geto long to presume who they belong to. He plucks them from the ground and examines them for a brief moment before holding them above you.

“I assume these are yours,” he asserts with a cocked brow.

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice directly right above you and through your foggy field of vision is the seraphic figure of Geto holding what seems to be your glasses. Lips escaping a relieved gasp, you hurriedly scramble to your feet. Your eyes are too poor to see it properly, but Geto also shares surprise, but for an entirely different reason.

He doesn’t give you the sanity that is your glasses right away, because he’s much too preoccupied studying your face. It’s so… fresh. Your glasses were hiding such a view, like curtains to a window that unveiled the utmost rare and breathtaking sights. The way your eyes are wide open, pupils blown with a touch of singularity makes him even more intrigued because of how they’re uniquely placed onto your face along with the rest of your features. Your lips, plump with a natural sheen to them—your cheekbones, perfectly rounded. The slope of your nose fell just right. Geto studies it like an artist to a blank canvas, devoid of anything yet holding just the perfect amount of space—wanting, waiting to be filled with anything and everything.

When his eyes stare at you in what seems to be bewilderment, you swallow thickly and look away. But you can only glance at your surroundings for less than a second before Geto takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your face toward him again. It’s then that you realize that Geto isn’t staring at you, but your face as a whole. His eyes flick with small movements, dancing about as they go from eyebrow to lips, freckle to lash, examining each and every single particle that your face has to offer.

You feel a heat creep onto your cheeks. You’re not sure whether it’s because of the closeness you and him share or the fact that you can’t detect his opinions on the one thing you’ve been disclosed about for years, but either way, you feel weak in the knees; it only worsens when Geto’s thumb brushes over the entirety of your bottom lip, feeling the plushness of it on his the pad of his finger.

“Has your face always been this open…?” he murmurs softly as he studies the various angles of your face.

You aren’t sure whether it’s a compliment or insult, either or neither. Geto’s tone always had a sort of bleakness to it, but in this very moment, you truly can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“My glasses…” is all you manage to squeak out, fighting the urge to squirm in his grasp. Another gulp goes down your dry throat when Geto’s face contorts to an irritated confusion before he realizes his other hand holds the one thing dear to your heart.

“Oh,” he mutters and hands them back to you. His opposing hand finally goes to release your face. “Right.”

Shaking hands go to put them back onto your face again. Sighing internally of relief of your now crystal-clear surroundings, you dust yourself off with your head once more, tucked into your chest.

“I’m so sorry for this,” you whisper. The heat on your face has now spread to the entirety of your body, your nerves alight with the rush of adrenaline. “I-I’ll make sure this never happens again… good night.”

With that, you scurry yourself out before Geto has the chance to falter. All words to urge you to stay to either scold you or excuse you evaporate on his tongue. He can only watch in a strange silence as your figure rushes down the hall and out the doors, the click of them ringing out in his penthouse.

After moments of self-paralysis, an unknown feeling boils inside the pit of Geto’s stomach. He thinks he’s seen your face before with the familiarity of it unsettling him. The ghost of your face prances about in his mind as he slowly climbs the stairs to his sewing room, ignoring the shattered wine glass on the floor thrown by Shigemo. He instead, refills his own glass again with the nearby bottle of merlot wine and savoring the thickness of it running down his dry throat, embellishing in its warmth.

A single, large window faces the busy nighttime street and Geto walks and stills near it, watching carefully as the speck of your figure on the street below calls for a cab. He eyes how you turn towards the building one more time, doing your usual adjustment of your glasses (it’s a habit you often do in times of nervousness, he’s picked up) before you shuffle yourself into a cab that speeds off into the night.

Geto lets out an annoyed click of his tongue. Something about your face seems haunting and he doesn’t enjoy it. The last thing that he needed for today was even more plaguing thoughts in his head after the loss of his muse not even just ten minutes ago, but now with your face staining the back of his head, his jaw grits in irritation. In a poor attempt to take his mind off the excursion of today and the future, he shuffles about his many sketchbooks to look for any designs he could pluck out for his latest collection.

It’s an hour in, two glasses of wine later, and somehow, he still hasn’t found a single piece to begin working on that fits into his theme. Miraculously, through the vast array of what is thought to be thousands of sketches, Geto hasn’t found one that stood out to him until he gets to the last sketchbook. It’s an early one—he thinks it dates back to his early college days, when he was just beginning to peek into the world of fashion. A pang of nostalgia hits him all of a sudden when he flips to a specific page that was the start of his history.

It’s the very design that had the attention of many designers. The sketch featured a gold and red embellished outfit, a sheen of glittering flickers adorning it. The shirt features a mosaic of gold and small flecks of color here and there, imitating the many church mosaics he’d often admired as a child. The skirt and collar of the shirt were the same shade of blood red, crimson gems bespeckling them.

It’s not the outfit, however, that makes his eyes harden. Why would it? He’s seen it many times before. It’s been brought up over and over again—in interviews, in magazines. It’s one of the staples that made Geto the pillar that he is. He knows every detail of it, much like his other designs, so it isn’t the design of the outfit that made him appalled. It’s instead, the person that’s wearing it.

Because somehow, the eerie sketch of the model’s face that he had drawn years ago…

… somehow replicates your own face perfectly.

a/n: first jjk fic in forever! wowie it's been much too long... also if u need a refresher on who shigemo is, he's the guy with the ponytail that nanami pulled kekeke

10.2k is hefty i know but i couldn't help myself my bad lolol T_T currently just a test run of what i hope to be is a series that some may be interested in because clearly this barely scratches the surface of what i want to embed haha so please let me know how you like it so far :))

continuing, i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my craft, whether it be your first time or your hundredth! once more, likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ !!!

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