#it's easier now that she's in her own bed and doesn't need me to stay by her in the couch for two hours making sure she doesn't wake up
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Me: *putting the kiddo to bed (she's finally started sleeping in her big-girl bed)*
Kiddo: I'm not sleepy!
Me: Yes you are.
Kiddo: No I'm not!
Me: Yes you are. You just told me you were sleepy and that's why we're going night-night.
Kiddo: Nooo I'm not tired. I won't sleep.
Me: Yes you will. Good night.
Kiddo: Not sleepy.
*two minutes later*
Kiddo: *is completely zonked out in bed*
#adventures in babysitting#i've been seeing her pretty regularly the past few months every other friday#it's fun but tiring so i'm glad her nighttime routine is significantly shorter than it used to be#once she's down she's usually out in less than 5 minutes#kinda jealous tbh#it's easier now that she's in her own bed and doesn't need me to stay by her in the couch for two hours making sure she doesn't wake up#though i do kind of miss watching Sabrina while i waited#been remembering a lot of what it was like when she was little and i saw her every day#sometimes i really miss it and wish i could go back#but it's been great seeing her grow and getting to be proud of her 'big girl' accomplishments
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oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)
adopted fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for panic attacks
You should call your brother.
You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake.
You read back his last message.
I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you
You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him.
You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right?
He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?”
“No. Are you busy?”
“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?”
“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.”
“Are you calmed down?”
“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.”
“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”
“You can’t tell him.”
“What?”
“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?”
“You don’t have to come.”
“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.”
You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind.
Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual.
You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.
You don’t have it in you to complain.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.”
Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?”
“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.”
“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.”
Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?”
Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you.
Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.”
“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.
“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.”
You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally.
The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.”
You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur.
“I think my boss will forgive me.”
You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly.
“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly.
“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.”
He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.”
You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too.
“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.
He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache.
Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens.
You shuffle backward nonchalantly.
Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday.
“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?”
“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.”
“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you.
You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises.
Spencer squeezes your hand.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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SKZ DRABBLE-OT8
The one where maybe a period doesn't actually have to be the end of the sentence. or The Twenty Eighth Installment of the SKZ!Pack Prequel Series.
Tags: Skz, Stray Kids, Stay, SKZ!pack, ABO, Omegaverse, Skz!Pack prequel, Pack!prequel, ot8, skz x you, skz x reader, femreader, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, y/n, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, skz abo, skz fluff, skz angst, skz smut
Genre: Angst, LOTS of Fluff, Suggestive, Light Smut
Warnings: Blood, Periods, Periods, Periods. If you don't like talk of menses, this one probably isn't for you. Period Sex, Blood Play, Blood as Lube, Mentions of Abortion, Unhealthy views of menstrual cycles
Title: End of a Sentence
“You look like shit.”
You barely raise your head from where it rests on your forearms at Hwasa’s observation, hearing the rustle as she slides into the seat beside you at the back of the lecture hall.
“Yeah, well-” You mutter out, turning your head slightly so you can narrow her in your field of vision, the movement making your headache pound behind one of your eyes. “-I feel like shit.”
She leans on her elbows on the desk, lowering herself so she can scan her gaze over your face, her dark hair falling over the shoulder of the fluffy faux coat she currently wears.
A wave of lavender washes over you at the movement.
“What’s going on with you? Pre-rut?” She asks in a lower voice, her dark eyes flicking between your own, full lips pulled into a hint of a worried line.
You shake your head. “Worse.” She stares at you for a moment, and then you see something akin to regretful acknowledgement flash across her gaze.
She sighs. “Ah, shit.”
You nod, keeping the movement jilted to stop from worsening your headache. “Yep.” She sits back in her chair, blowing out a breath, the perfect dark eyeliner-reminiscent of cat eyes-framing her lashes wrinkling a little as she narrows her gaze, pursing her lips in thought.
“I mean, you’re in a pack now, does it help at all?” She finally queries, glancing back over to where you still lay slumped over the desk like some sort of victorian plague victim.
You groan, pushing yourself up to a somewhat sitting position, and ignore the protests of your body as you do so, the pull of the sharp cramps tightening around your midsection, making your pubic bone ache.
“I don’t know. I haven’t told them.”
Hwasa’s gaze sharpens on your own, disapproval washing over her pretty features and leaking into her tone when she speaks. “What? But you guys have been together long enough to have this happen several times now, right?”
You give a little shrug. “Well, yeah, but I don’t hang around them during that time of the month. I give excuses, and crawl into my bed and die for a week, and then when it’s over, I drag my ass back to life and no one is none the wiser.”
Hwasa crosses her arms over her chest, sharp, pointed nails ticking across the arms of her coat as she stares at you.
You feel your hackles rise under her gaze. “What?”
She sighs, long and heavy, like you’re a disappointing child, and retorts, “You need to tell them. They could help you through it, like a rut. Trust me, it’ll be better for everyone.”
“It’s gross and personal-” You protest right back, already feeling your cheeks heat at the thought of having to talk to the pack-made up entirely of males-and explain to them why you’re out of commission for a week out of the month. ���-they’re not gonna understand.”
She scoffs at that. “Please, you’re all adults, and if they’re not ready to deal with a little bit of period shit, then they have no right to be in your life in the first place.”
“It’s easier said than done-” You whine, putting your forehead in your palms and staring at the chipped surface of the desk. Someone has drawn a crude pen rendition of what looks like a penis just below your notebook.
“(Y/N).” Hwasa says your name sternly, and when you don’t look at her, she leans over and loops her fingers around your wrist, causing you to meet her gaze. She fixes you with a firm look. “They’re in college, I’m sure they’ve had the talk a long time ago and know about female anatomy, okay? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
You groan, but she stops you from tugging your gaze away from hers once more.
“Honey.” She sighs, and her fingers loosen around your wrist a bit, her voice going softer, her expression growing sympathetic. “I know from our time together, and all our years of friendship since, that your ‘time of the month’ if we’re being delicate, is a lot worse than what’s considered normal. So please, just let them in. They might be able to help and it might save you some misery in the long run.”
You make another little groaning sound, but the headache behind your eyes is pounding and the cramping is only getting worse, so in the end, you acquiesce, at least to just stop talking about it for the moment.
“Okay.” You sigh and give her the hint of a tight smile. “I’ll talk to them.”
*****
“They’re getting worse.” You told your mother, standing in front of the bathroom sink, hands braced on the cold tile, staring at your pale reflection in the mirror.
She had put her hand on your mid back, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’s the change. Presenting always affects women differently and more dramatically than men.”
“I don’t want it.” You had cried, already doubled over from the cramps, tears streaming down your cheeks.
It was unfair, cruel even, and in that moment, you’d wanted to disappear, cease to exist, sink into the floor.
“It’s not a choice.” Your mother whispered, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “Women were chosen to suffer, and it is simply something we must endure. In turn, when you are older, the ability to create life will be yours.”
You’d thought that sounded awful in the moment, but didn’t say anything, and determined to follow in your mother’s footsteps, suffered in silence.
*******
It was awful, you decided, to be cursed with such a fate.
Awful in the fact that you could do nothing but curl in your bed and wait for the pains to subside.
Awful that blood stained your hands and thighs and the floor of the shower when you stood beneath the stream of the water, wanting to be clean for just one single moment, but denied the pleasure, a constant reminder.
Awful that no one knew, no one wanted to know.
Awful in the way that he looked at you, like you were some sort of disgusting creature, base and dirty and unworthy.
Awful, awful, awful.
It was raining, drops pelting the window, wind howling, when he came to stand in the doorway of your darkened room, dressed to go out.
Sitting up, you had begged him not to go.
He had simply waved you off, already pulling on his coat. “I don’t have time to sit around with you while you go through whatever this is. Other girls I’ve been with managed to take care of themselves still, get dressed, accompany me, all while this went on.” His lips curved into a sneer as he stared at you, huddled on the bed, bent over from the agony. “At least shower, for god’s sake, put a little effort into yourself for my sake.”
He’d gone out, leaving you alone, and you decided at that moment that it was better to suffer alone, than suffer under the scathing gaze of someone else.
*****
At eighteen, you realized your mother had lied to you.
She’d told you creating life was a gift, a blessing, given to adults.
The positive test sitting in the shaking palm of your hand said otherwise, a blatant lie bathed in stark pink lines.
There wasn’t an option, not now.
It was raining again, when you took the bus to the clinic by yourself.
It was raining when you went home, alone.
Raining when you laid curled up on the bathtub floor.
Raining, raining, raining.
Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding.
Awful, awful, awful.
******
You’re sitting in your bed, curled up against the wall, heating pad held tightly over your midsection, trying to distract yourself with scrolling on your phone, when there’s a knock at the door.
Heaving yourself up, groaning slightly as it jostles your body and worsens the agonizing cramping, you practically double over as you walk to the door, reaching for the handle.
On the other side is Hyunjin, flanked by Felix and Jeongin.
You straighten a little, surprise flickering across your face as you see the omegas standing in the hall of the alpha dorm like they belong here.
“Oh. Hey.” You manage to get out, palm splayed flat on the heating pad to keep it in place as you stand, leaning against the door. “What are you guys doing here?”
Hyunjin gives you the sassiest, most annoyed look you think you’ve seen in awhile.
“Please, like we were gonna sit and let you suffer alone after all you told us in that message?” He sniffs, looking you up and down. “Not very personable by the way, you couldn’t have told us in person?”
You flush slightly, remembering the text you’d sent the pack the night before.
‘This is embarrassing, but I’m on my cycle this week, and you probably won’t see me much. It’s usually pretty bad, but don’t worry, I’ll be good as new next week, and I’ve had plenty of experience dealing with it. Just didn’t wanna make any of you worry with my silence. Plus Hwasa told me I needed to tell you. So there. 😛’
“I didn’t think-” You start to say, and Felix cocks his head, staring at you.
“Didn’t think we’d care? We do.” He says softly, firmly, in a way that makes your bones warm.
“Yeah, noona.” Jeongin nods from behind Hyunjin’s shoulder. “I don’t know much, but I know enough from having girl friends that this time of month sucks on the regular.”
Hyunjin loops his arm through yours. “Now c’mon. We have a bath already drawn up for you in the omega dorms. Let’s go before it gets cold.”
“What, but I-” You begin to protest, but Felix takes your other arm as Jeongin shuts the door to your dorm behind you.
“No buts.” He admonishes gently, giving you the hint of a smile. “You always help us, now let us help you.”
It feels odd, foreign even, but you nod anyway, biting your bottom lip and swallowing the rest of your protest as they walk you over to the omega dorms.
When they lead you into the communal bathroom, the large, sunken tub is already full of steaming water, bath oils shimmering on the surface, bubbles collecting at the edges.
They really weren’t kidding when they said they’d drawn a bath for you.
The room is steamy and warm and smells of citrus and something floral adjacent.
Felix locks the door, and Jeongin moves to grab a couple of towels, as Hyunjin tugs you over to the large tub.
He releases you, putting his hands on his hips, taking you in before he motions with a tilt of his head. “C’mon then, the water's not getting any warmer.”
You hesitate, staring at him for a moment, and then you swallow.
“You guys really don’t have to do this.”
Jeongin glances at you from his seat on the lip of the tub, dangling his fingers in the water, genuine confusion on his face. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“Well, just because-” You hedge out, not really sure how much detail to get into. “It’s kind of gross, and it gets messy-really messy, for me-and the bath is so nice, but you really don’t have to stay-”
Hyunjin’s expression firms as he stares at you as you stutter out excuses. “Please, you don’t think we’re used to messy? C’mon, sweetheart, you’re talking to a room full of omegas here, we’ve got slick and bodily fluids and mess for days.”
You blow out a breath at that. “I know, but-” “But nothing.” Felix says firmly, his hands going down on your shoulders. “A little blood isn’t gonna put any of us off. Right guys?” He glances to the other two omegas and they both nod without hesitation. “See?” Felix murmurs in your ear, his low voice sending a slight shiver down your spine. He moves a small fingered hand to cover your own where you still hold the heat pack to your lower stomach. “You don’t like to see us suffer, right? And you’ve helped us all through heats at this point, so let us help you now, okay?”
Your gaze meets Hyunjin’s and he gives you a pointed stare.
“Just get in the fucking bath.”
Sighing, you finally nod. “Okay. But let me go to the bathroom first.”
You step into the ensuite bathroom and close the door, because suddenly, you feel self conscious. You’ve been naked in front of all of them before-they’re pack, for fuck’s sake-but this feels more intimate, more terrifying.
Words used before ring through your mind as you strip down.
Dirty. Pathetic. Shameful. Disgusting. Weak.
Taking in a breath, you remove the protection you wear and toss it, and almost immediately, blood is slowly starting to ooze down the inside of your thighs, coating your skin with warmth and slickness.
“Fuck.” You swear, glancing down, and decide that as much as you’d like to hide out in the bathroom for a few more moments, you can’t risk it.
Not if you don’t want a puddle on the floor.
Plus, the cramps are resuming with the removal of the heat pack.
So with a sigh of resignation, you leave the bathroom, arms wrapped around you as you step into the warm humidity of the other room where the omegas are waiting.
Trying to keep your legs clamped together so they can’t see the crimson coating your skin, you hurry to the bath and slide into the water. It instantly takes on a pink hue, and you hope they just attribute it to the bath oils they’d clearly added while you were gone.
“Temperature okay?” Felix asks, moving to sit beside Jeongin at the edge of the tub, his gaze assessing your features.
“Yeah, it’s good.” You breathe out, and shift awkwardly beneath the water. Already the heat is helping, but the way they’re all staring at you-
“All right, move over.” Hyunjin commands the younger omegas, as he approaches the bathtub with a rag held in one of his hands. He arches a brow at you as they slide apart, making room for him on the edge of the large tub. “Lemme see.”
You stare at him for a long moment, mouth slightly parted. “No, it’s okay. You really don’t have to-”
He crouches down beside the tub, wetting the rag in the water, his gaze never leaving yours.
“It wasn’t a request, babe. Let me see.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard Hyunjin sound quite so authoritarian before.
So without another word, you bring your knees up out of the water and spread your legs for him.
The water has washed away the majority of the blood, but there’s still stubborn dried patches from earlier stuck to the warm skin of your upper thighs.
Carefully, slowly, as if he’s scared he’ll spook you, Hyunjin leans forward over the lip of the bath and begins to gently scrub away the bloodstains from off your skin.
You tense under the contact, taking in a sharp breath, but Felix reaches out to put a cool hand on the overheated skin of your shoulder.
“C’mon, noona. You’d do the same for us. Let us take care of you.”
You give a slight shake of your head, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re currently on your period, or if you’re just emotional suddenly, but tears choke your throat a little. “No, it’s not that. It’s just-” Your words cut off as you bite your tongue, because maybe being too honest in this moment isn’t the best thing.
You feel Hyunjin’s gaze flicker up from his work in between your thighs, scanning over your pinched expression.
“Someone gave you shit for it, didn’t they?” He asks softly, and you meet his gaze, your own mirroring the sudden shock his words send crashing over you.
Felix’s fingers tighten a little bit on your shoulder.
Hyunjin scoffs a little laugh-humorless and bitter-and must take your silence as an answer of itself, because he ducks his head to continue washing your skin with the warm water, saying in a murmur, “Yeah, I figured. People like to shit on things they don’t understand. It’s fucked up, but it’s the way it is.”
“That’s just stupid.” Felix announces with a slight edge of defensiveness to his tone. “It’s an anatomical function. Just like something associated with secondary genders-like scents or slick or knotting. You can’t do anything about it.”
“Yeah, but-” You hesitate, then push yourself to continue. “-mine’s always been worse than normal. Way worse than normal. And people just never liked to deal with it.” Your voice dips softer, your breath coming out in a sigh. “It got worse after I presented, so I just kind of holed up every month and dealt with it on my own.”
“You’ve got us now, noona.” Jeongin murmurs back, moving his hand to cover Felix’s where it covers your shoulder.
You glance up and give him the hint of a smile. “I know.” Your smile wavers a bit. “But old habits die hard. And I don’t want you guys to ever think-” Once again, your words stutter to a halt.
“Think what?” Felix pushes softly, as Hyunjin finishes washing your legs, and moves to lean against the lip of the tub, studying you silently, seriously.
You shrug one shoulder. “I don’t know. That I’m gross or pathetic or something like that.”
“Why would we ever think that?” Felix asks again, his voice coming out a little sharp in obvious defense of you.
“Because someone else did.” Hyunjin answers for you, not looking up, playing with the rag held between his hands. He glances up at you. “Right?”
You give a little nod and release a shaky breath. “Yeah.”
“We’re not them.” Felix pushes firmly, his fingers squeezing into your shoulder until you look up at him. “Okay? We could never be like them.” You hold his gaze until a small part of you believes him, and move to squeeze his fingers back.
“Okay.”
********
The door to your dorm opens, and you glance up from your laptop, as soft footsteps head down the hall toward you.
You smell him before you see him-rain.
Chan appears in the doorway, clothed in an oversized hoodie and sweats, hood pulled up over his unruly curls.
He leans against the doorframe as you shut your laptop, shifting it to the side of your bed as you meet his gaze.
“Hey.” You say softly as way of greeting.
“Hi.” He returns, reaching up to push his hood back with his free hand, the other dangling by his side, a plastic bag clenched between his fingers. “Yeosang said you didn’t feel well enough to go running this morning.”
“Yeah.” You sigh, glancing down at the pile of blankets on your lap, the heating pad warming your lower stomach buried below the layers. “Wasn’t up to it.”
Chan pads over to the bed and sits down on the edge, careful not to jostle you as he does so.
You flick your gaze to his, and you can tell, by the furrow between his brows and the slight souring of petrichor that he’s worried.
He holds aloft the bag in his hand.
“I brought you some things.”
Your lips curve slightly at the unexpected gesture. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Of course I did.” He counters back, sliding the bag across the bed so it rests in your lap.
You bite back a smile and glance down, undoing the knot of the bag to reveal the contents.
On top is his overly large Nirvana hoodie, the fabric warm and soft between your fingers.
“Your hoodie?” You look up at him in slight surprise, and the tips of his ears go red as he tries to play it off with a shrug.
Adorable.
“Yeah, I thought it might help.”
You arch a brow, but pull out the hoodie and slip it on over your head without another word.
You swear Chan makes a sort of muted purring sound in his chest when you do so.
You dig into the bag some more, and pull out a couple of boxes of your favorite treats, some sports drinks, and a couple of DVDs-probably snagged from Jisung’s extensive collection.
“Channie.” You breathe out, glancing up at him once more, and again, the stupid tears are threatening. “You really didn’t have to do all of this.”
He shrugs, reaching for one of the movies, turning it over in his large hands. “C’mon, you really thought I was just gonna sit by and stay away while you’re clearly over here dying? You really don’t know me. Or him.”
You give a little laugh at that, and Chan grins, dimples flashing.
Glancing down at the treasures in your lap, you find yourself murmuring before you can stop the words, “No one’s ever done something like this for me before.”
Chan shifts slightly on the bed, reaching out to put his hand over yours. “Yeah, well, that all ends now, baby. You’re stuck with me.And all of us.”
You glance up at him, and he gives you another grin, reaching up to tousle his fingers through his hair as he spreads the movies out in front of you.
“Now c’mon. Pick a movie. I brought you the cream of the crop.”
You hold up one of the cases toward him, brow arched.
“‘Hard Boiled’?” You announce with slight disbelief, a smirk curving your lips and brow disappearing further into your hairline.
Chan reaches out and snatches the movie from you.
“Okay, so maybe that one’s a miss. I tried.”
You bite back a grin, and settle on one of the chickflicks you’ve seen a thousand times.
But hey, classics are classics for a reason, right?
After Chan fetches your laptop and gets the movie started, settled in the perfect spot on the end of the bed, you pat the spot beside you, scooting slightly so he has a bit more room.
He hesitates. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you or anything.”
You roll your eyes, reaching out to tug him down beside you with your fingers buried in the fabric of the sleeve of his hoodie.
“I’m not injured, I’m just simply bleeding out slowly and surely.”
“Oh, because that sounds so much better.” Chan retorts back in a grumble, but he doesn’t resist anymore, sliding beneath the layers of blankets with you.
Grinning, you tug the hood of his Nirvana hoodie up over your head and snuggle into him, cheek on his broad, warm chest, arms wrapping around his middle.
He’s like a furnace, and he smells like wet pavement.
He wraps his arms around you in turn, keeping you tight against him, as he reaches to turn off the bedside lamp as the movie begins to play across the small brightly lit screen of your laptop.
His cheek is resting on the top of your head, and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your own cheek is soothing.
“Okay?” He asks softly, and you nod, cheek brushing the fabric of his own hoodie.
“Yeah.” You murmur back. “More than okay.”
You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, and suddenly, you don’t feel so bad anymore.
******
You open the door to Minho, who immediately pushes past you without a word, a tower of bentos held in his arms.
“Hello to you too.” You mutter as he marches past you, directly toward your small kitchen.
You follow behind him wordlessly, and he motions to the table with a jerk of his chin as you enter, already spreading the boxes out on the counter top, removing lids like he has some sort of personal vendetta against them.
“Sit.” He commands, and you decide it’s better not to question him, so you do.
Almost within moments, Minho has presented you with a bowl full of steaming ramen with all the garnishes-fish cake, bamboo, mushrooms, bean sprouts-shoving a pair of chopsticks in your hand as he turns back to the counter.
Your mouth falls agape, and your stomach rumbles loudly as the smell of the food reaches your nose.
He returns to the table with a smaller bowl full of hot rice, and one full of kimchi. Last but not least, he positions a slab of perfectly cooked pink beef ribs atop your ramen and slides you one of the sports drinks Chan had brought you from the fridge.
“Eat.” He commands once more, and you stare at him as he sits down across from you after tidying up the now empty bento boxes.
“What-” You start to question, and he simply fixes you with an unblinking gaze, expression unreadable.
“What, you’ve never had ramen before, sweetheart? You’re supposed to put it in your mouth.”
Glancing down at the food before you, you hesitantly take your chopsticks and gather up a mouthful, before blowing on it and popping it into your mouth.
It’s so heavenly, you almost moan.
“Good girl.” Minho praises, seemingly satisfied, as you take another bite, and then another. He sits back in his own chair, watching you, but the food is too delicious for you to feel embarrassed under his sharp, astute gaze.
“Holy shit, Minho.” You manage to get out in between bites. “You made this?”
Minho scoffs lightly. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a good cook.” He leans forward slightly, sweeping his gaze over the quickly dwindling food. “I usually make this one with pork belly, but I read something about red meat being better when you’re on your period, so I swapped it for the ribs this time around. It wasn’t too disappointing.”
Your gaze meets his, and your mouth falls open.
“You read something?” You squeak out, and Minho has the decency to look offended, rolling his eyes.
“What? I can read too you know, sweetheart, cooking isn’t just my one speciality. I’m a multi trick pony.”
“No, no.” I shake my head, wiping my mouth and setting down my chopsticks for a moment. “You read up on what to make me while I’m on my period? Why?”
Minho holds your gaze, arching a brow. “To get the recipe right.”
You stare at him for another long moment, and when it’s clear that’s all you’re going to get, you move to resume eating, finishing the ramen in record time.
Minho moves to gather up the now empty bowls, and in a bold move, you reach out and snag his hand with your own.
“Thank you.” You say softly, seriously, and he gives you another long stare, before he pulls away and moves to pack up the dishes.
You’re surprised when he moves to sit back down across from you instead of leaving immediately now that you’ve eaten his food.
You sit in silence for a few moments, and you don’t know what it is about Minho that’s always made you feel safe, unjudged, able to tell him anything, but you find yourself, once again, volunteering to tell him something you’ve never told anyone else before.
The words are already at the tip of your tongue before you can stop them.
“I had an abortion.” You announce into the silence, and if Minho is shocked by you baring this truth out of the blue, he doesn’t show it. Which gives you the courage to go on, fidgeting with your fingers, as you stare down at the chipped surface of the table.
“When I was a teenager. And it made them worse-the periods, I mean. They were bad before, but ever since-” You give a slight shake of your head and let out a breath. “-they’ve been awful.”
“Mm.” Minho makes a sound of acknowledgement beneath his breath from across the table, but that’s it. He doesn’t offer anything more.
So you keep going.
Spilling your guts into the silence.
“I thought, for a long time-” You sniff and take in a breath, a humorless sharp little choked laugh leaving your lips as you continue. “-that maybe I was being punished, you know? Punished for being born a girl, punished for presenting as an alpha, punished for-” Your words trail off a little. “-well, you know. Not keeping it.”
You shrug, tapping your fingers along the table softly.
“I dunno. Maybe I thought that bleeding was a symbol of everything I’d ever done wrong. It was certainly treated as such.”
There is a long moment of silence, your words hanging heavy in the air between you, and then Minho takes a breath, leaning forward across the table.
“You know, sweetheart-” He murmurs, and you glance up at the soft tone of his voice, so unfamiliar when it comes to the alpha sitting across from you. “-I’ve come to learn that everything is simply a coincidence. There’s no higher power punishing people, bullshit happens to people every day and it’s all just a fluke. There’s no rhyme or reason.”
You swallow, and he holds your gaze with his own.
“So believe me, when I tell you, that whatever idiotic moron made you think there’s something wrong with you that needs to be ‘punished’ every goddamn month, is a fucking fool.” Your lips part slightly, but he doesn’t let you speak.
“And if it’s yourself, well then-” He gives you a hint of a smirk, tilting his head slightly as he regards you. “-I’m afraid you’re just gonna have to tell that bitch to shut the fuck up, sweetheart.”
******
You wince slightly, coming in after your shower, hurrying to the dresser to find a pair of underwear to slip on beneath your oversized t-shirt before you can drip all over the floor.
Changbin must take notice of the grimace from his spot on your bed, because he pushes himself up, arching a brow.
“Cramps?”
You nod, still digging through your drawers for underwear, swearing slightly under your breath. “Yeah. They always get worse whenever I stand up and move around.”
You feel his presence behind you, smell a wave of smoke wash over your senses.
“You know what they say.” He murmurs, wrapping a strong arm around your waist, careful not to put too much pressure on your tender midsection. “About helping cramps.”
You scoff a little, glancing over your shoulder at him. “What if that’s just an old wives tale?”
He wiggles his eyebrows at you playfully, smirking a little now. “Is it?”
You skate your gaze away from his, suddenly embarrassed. “I mean. I don’t know.”
There is a brief moment of pause, and then Changbin asks in slight surprise, “What, you’ve never done it before?”
You huff a breath at that, still avoiding his gaze, hands stilling in the depths of your drawer. “I mean-” You hesitate, before admitting, “-it’s gross.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Changbin turns you at that, hands going down firmly on your shoulders, lifting your chin with a finger after another moment of you not looking at him
“I’m gonna drip blood all over the floor if you don’t let me go find something soon.” You protest a little weakly, reluctantly holding his gaze.
“In a minute.” He waves you off, expression going serious as he stares at you. “Listen, I mean, if that’s you talking, and you personally think it’s gross, then by all means, I get it, and that’s well within your right. As Hyunjin would say, ‘Slay, pussy boss bitch queen’ or whatever he usually says to empower females, but-”
You watch the way his brow furrows, dark gaze holding your own, lips pressing into a firm almost angry line. “-If some son of a bitch pussy footing prick masquerading as a man put that idea in your head that it was gross, then we’re gonna have a whole other problem.”
You stare at him for a long moment, mouth opening and closing for a few brief seconds as you try and comprehend what he’s telling you.
“You-” You hedge out, still staring at him in slight disbelief. “-don’t think it’s gross?”
Changbin chuckles, and then it turns into a full blown laugh. “Baby girl. What part of who I am and all you know about me points toward the fact that I would find anything about this gross in the slightest?”
“I don’t know-” You protest back helplessly. “I just thought-” Changbin backs you up until your back hits the wood of the dresser behind you, hands going on either side of your head, and when you take in a sharp breath, meeting his gaze, his irises are almost gleaming completely gold. When he speaks, his tone is low, voice almost predatory. “Well, let me correct you then.” He leans closer to you, breathing in against your temple, taking in your scent.
“Blood is not a turn off for me. Or him. Quite the opposite actually.”
You take in a shaky breath, mind taking a moment to catch up to what he’s telling you.
“So.” He brushes his nose along your hairline, breathing you in still. “I’m going to ask you again. You know what they say helps cramps?”
Your voice is small, barely a whisper. “Yes.” He flicks his gaze down to yours, smirking slightly-teeth flashing dangerously in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “You wanna try it?”
You swallow hard, and push past every single part of you that’s screaming at you to say otherwise.
“Yes.”
As if that’s all he needs to hear, Changbin sweeps you up with a growl, and deposits you will little to no effort on the center of your bed, flat on your back.
You don’t even have a moment to feel ashamed or embarrassed, or check the situation down below before he’s already crawling between your legs, forcing your thighs apart for him.
“Bin-” You start to protest, panic setting in once more as you feel the telltale stickiness on the inside of your upper thighs, but he silences you with one glance.
“I’m gonna take it easy on you, baby. It tends to get a little more sensitive down here around this time, yeah? We’re gonna make sure you’re comfortable,so don’t worry about that, but I also don’t want to hear one word out of that pretty mouth unless it’s begging me for more, understood?”
He settles himself down on his stomach between your thighs, and you find yourself only able to whisper out, “Yes, sir.”
A sharp flash of white teeth. “Good girl.”
You take in a breath, holding it, and then let it out slowly, trying not to think of anything but the feel of his warm breath on your skin, the tickling of his fingers skating up your bare legs, moving back the hem of the large t-shirt you wear-
He slides a finger inside of you, and you instantly tense up.
“Relax.” He murmurs, and you try to do as he asks, and you know he can feel it, when he gives a slightly approving hum in the back of his throat, almost a growl. “Good girl. There you go.”
“Oh.” You breathe out, as you slowly relax, and he slides a second finger in, moving them carefully, searchingly, looking for that spot inside that makes you feel like you’re floating on air, sparks flashing before your eyes.
He’s right, you are sensitive down there, and everything is overwhelming, but in a good way.
“Bin-” You whine out, squirming slightly now, body already keying up as hot ropes of pleasure start to gather low in your belly.
“Yeah, baby.” He purrs, and when you meet his gaze, his pupils have completely taken over the gold of his irises.
It’s almost enough to send you over right then and there, the way his lips are slightly parted, drinking in the sight of you writhing beneath his touch greedily.
He pulls back, before you can fully succumb to the pleasure though, and you have to bite down hard on your lip to stop from whining at the sudden loss of contact.
He shifts, pulling his hand back from you, and holds up his fingers for you to see, his gaze slowly tracing over the blood dribbling down the digits, staining his skin crimson.
“Beautiful.” He growls, and the way he says the word has a shiver running down your spine.
He raises the fingers to his mouth, and without thinking, you jolt upward, already reaching out for him, old habits kicking in as you blurt out in a sudden panic once more, “Don’t-” He holds your gaze steadily as he slips the fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, slowly, one by one.
You stare at him, mouth agape, chest heaving, and you hate to say it, but it’s probably one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen-watching him savor the taste of you on his fingers, cleaning them with swipes of his tongue, his dark gaze never wavering from yours.
“‘Don’t’ what?” He growls out, pinning you beneath his swirling golden gaze. “Don’t taste you?”
And without warning, he leans back down between your legs, and drags the warmth of his tongue up your center, flattening it against you as he slowly works his way upward.
Your breath comes out on a sort of choked sound, and you fall back against the bed, muscles trembling.
“Jesus fuck-” You swear breathlessly, and a guttural growl rumbles in his chest at the words leaving your lips.
He surges up, hands going down on either side of your head now, staring down at you, eyes dark and hungry and predatory.
His lips are reddened, stained with blood.
Your blood.
Well, fuck.
He smirks, and you reach up without really thinking to swipe the pad of your thumb across the full swell of his bottom lip, studying the crimson that comes off on your skin when you do so.
A slightly awe filled laugh leaves your lips on your next exhale.
Changbin flashes bloodstained teeth at you in a sharp grin.
A completely dangerous sight you could get used to.
“Want me to keep going?” He murmurs, holding your gaze.
You nod eagerly, already moving to pull him down to you. “Yes please.” And when you kiss him, you taste yourself on his lips in an entirely new way-the way he must-and he’s right.
It’s fucking beautiful.
****
“Feeling better, gorgeous?” Jisung murmurs to you, leaning back against your chest, your arms wrapped around his tiny waist beneath the warmth of the blankets.
“Much.” You breathe back, rubbing your nose against his soft hair.
Seungmin scoffs from his position behind you, his own arm slung along the couch behind your heads.
“Be quiet. The two of you are gonna miss the movie.” Jisung leans his head back and grins up at you, nose wrinkling, as he whispers to you loudly, “Party pooper.”
You laugh, kissing the tip of his nose.
Seungmin sighs behind you, but you feel him stroking his fingers idly through your hair regardless of his show of irritation.
You snuggle down between the betas, the air filled with the spice of ginger and linens, warm and safe beneath the blanket between their bodies, and feel, for the first time in your life, that maybe this week isn’t as awful as you always thought.
Maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t need to be.
Not ever again.
Not with them.
#skz#stray kids#stay#skz!pack#pack!prequel#abo#omegaverse#skz imagines#skz reactions#skz scenarios#ot8#skz x you#skz x reader#y/n#femreader#bang chan#lee minho#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#lee felix#han jisung#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#skz!pack prequel#skz fluff#skz smut#skz angst#skz drabble
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House Of Cards | San
San x Reader, exes to lovers au!, mafia au!
Word count: 12.013 (hehe)
Genre: angst, suggestive, fluff at the end
Warning: mention of crimes and violence, suggestive, language, San in a pool bc that's a warning. If you don't feel comfortable DON’T READ IT!
Author: Maari
Note: Ok so that was an imagine that i wrote with got7 yugyeom but reading again i decided to repost with san, because i think it fits him more.
Summary: It seems like your ghost from the past came at the best time to save you.
Taglist: @foxinnie8
⪢ Ateez Masterlist
“Miss Y/N.” She heard her own name echo through the corridor and turned around, coming face to face with one of the security guards whose name she hadn't yet memorized.
"Yes?"
“Mr. Kim wants to see you.”
She took a deep breath. She had just arrived at the hotel, he himself had told her to go up to the presidential suite
“Tell him I’m coming.”
“Now, miss.” His serious tone made her stop in her tracks and look at the security guard with some concern.
It wouldn't be good to go against Seungho's rules. It never was.
She nodded and followed him, the shower she planned to take would have to wait a little bit.
A while ago she would have sighed at the elegance of the hotel but unfortunately for Y/N, she was starting to get used to that life.
Well, used to wasn't quite the word. Conformed was more certain.
As she predicted, the security guard took her to a private area of the hotel, she was sure that Seungho had requested that only he frequent that place and with the great influence he had, it wasn't denied.
Y/N approached him alone and in silence, seeing him sitting in an armchair staring at the glass of whiskey he held.
"Wanted to see me?" She crossed her arms behind her body and swallowed hard when he looked at her.
She hated the weight of his eyes on her.
"Come here." he patted his own leg and she got the message, taking a deep breath before sitting on his lap.
Seungho ran his free hand down Y/N's back and stopped at the base of her lower back, the smell of alcohol was permeating his pores and it was enough for her to realize that this wasn't the first glass of whiskey.
Y/N didn't understand the sudden affection until he approached and kissed her lips, as always in a thirsty and quick way that caused absolutely nothing to Y/N.
Except disgust.
"You didn't call me here just to kiss me, did you?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow.
"No, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it." he approached once more but Y/N immediately avoided it. "Alright, I need you to stay by my side while I partner up."
He held out the glass of whiskey and she held it, reluctantly, her brow furrowed.
"Why? You're not going to introduce me as your girlfriend, right?" His eyes dropped to the small neckline of Y/N's dress.
She would have shifted uncomfortably if she hadn't been in his lap, that might have given him ideas she didn't want him to have.
"Don't be silly, of course not." Seungho's cold tone didn't even shock Y/N. "You know women with your beauty make business easier."
She blinked and blinked, in disbelief.
"Do you want me to seduce a future partner?" she asked, not as incredulous as she would have been in the past. This had been quite common, actually.
"No, I don't want you to go to bed with him." He responded possessively and angrily. "I just want you to give us the privilege of admiring your beauty." his hand ran up the spine to the back of Y/N's head.
She took a deep breath, she hated having to do that ridiculous act but it wasn't like she could say no, she never could.
"Okay, I'm just going to change my clothes." She got up from his lap, she was ready to get out of there, but Seungho held her by the hip.
"No, he's already coming." Seungho got up from the chair and moved his hand away from her body. "You look pretty sexy anyway." he spoke quietly, making her understand that his partner was closer than she imagined.
She lowered her head to look at her own heels, she should have chosen another dress before going to the hotel. That one seemed too short for her own taste but what could she do if Seungho had liked it and the pair of black high heels?
She lived to please him.
Noticing that she was still holding the glass, she downed the whiskey in one go so that she could gain a little more confidence to do the dirty work.
"Mr. Kim." the partner spoke friendly and Y/N swallowed the alcohol, which went down her throat and felt her heart stop when she heard his voice.
She knew that voice…
"Please, call me Seungho. Sit down."
Y/N lowered her head and opened her eyes, watching as Seungho pointed to the front seat and the two did so, with shaky legs she sat in the seat next to Seungho's and her eyes stopped on the future partner's hands.
Years could pass, but she would never forget those hands, not when they showed so many times the love that their owner felt for Y/N.
With complete certainty that this was really who she thought, she raised her head after letting out a sigh and her eyes met his for the first time in so many years, making her press her fingers against the empty glass she was holding.
Y/N felt a mix of emotions, her hands started to shake just with his eyes fixed on her, she didn't fail to notice that he analyzed her quickly before turning his gaze to Seungho, she got goosebumps from head to toe and asked herself how could he still do that to her? And what was he actually doing there?
"Choi San, right?" Seungho asked, making Y/N return to reality.
"Correct."
"Your secretary called me."
"We are very interested in a partnership with you, Seungho. I believe it will bring benefits to both parties, as my partner has already explained everything to you." the two maintained a rigid posture but unlike Seungho, San was elegant.
Of course, the gray suit San wore was very different from the hoodies he had and that she remembered, it suited the formal atmosphere they were in but it went beyond his appearance.
San's aura was different, as he was ready for that.
"Yes, it was a very productive meeting."
"I'm just here to finish the deal." San quickly looked at Y/N and a smile appeared on his face.
This disconcerted her, and she left the glass on the arm of the chair and clasped her sweaty hands to try to hide her nervousness.
"Well, I can pay you the first million right now if you want." She rolled her eyes discreetly, Seungho loved showing off how rich he was. "Just a minute." He got up from the chair and looked at Y/N quickly, walking away, leaving her alone there and ready to collapse.
If Seungho wanted her to seduce San now, that was a bad time.
But it wasn't surprising since he had never learned to read the atmosphere when she was near, he never noticed when she was uncomfortable or happy, because for him it didn't make any difference.
She looked back at San, still feeling vulnerable about being in front of him again after so many years and took in every detail of his face that she had never been able to forget.
He was different. His face was no longer so thin and youthful, now his features were stronger, more masculine.
The black hair that she remembered falling into his eyes was now perfectly pushed back and the side cut made him look much more handsome and mature.
Even in a suit and tie, she could see that he wasn't as thin as he used to be.
He was no longer the boy she had known, he was a man and very attractive one.
Her body vibrated for her to come closer and she felt her fingers tingle to touch his face one last time, like she hadn't had the opportunity in the past.
He continued to analyze her from top to bottom, much longer, which made her tremble all over.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to find the courage to do what Seungho had told her to do.
"You're getting a great deal, you'll be very pleased." the attempt to use a seductive tone failed due to the way her body was reacting.
She looked like a robot programmed to say that.
“That’s what they say, but it’s not the business I’m interested in.” San seemed to know very well how to use his voice in a low tone and something inside her warmed in a way that hadn't happened in a long time.
Y/N was left with no response and Seungho returned, probably thinking she had gotten what he wanted.
Little did he know that the spell had turned against the sorceress.
“What do you say we play poker while we settle the transaction, San?”
"It would be amazing." he got up from the chair and Y/N's eyes followed him.
She got up from the chair but made to go to the other side towards the uncovered part of that area, but she didn't even take two steps as Seungho held her arm tightly.
"Where do you think you're going?"
“I think the little act of being your luxury slut was enough for today.” she responded firmly and he tightened his grip on her arm, to the point of hurting it.
“Don’t play with me, Y/N, I want you by my side until the transaction is over.” His eyes were fixed on her face and for a brief moment, she was afraid.
Looking to the side, she noticed that San was watching them a little further behind Seungho, with his jaw clenched and with a rigid expression.
“I’m not going to sit at that table and watch you play that fuck poker that destroyed my life.” she turned her gaze to Seungho who now seemed to have understood. “You really like torturing me, don't you?”
“One day you’re going to have to stop blaming the cards, my love.” he let go of her arm, and Y/N controlled herself from crying.
It would be pointless and pathetic.
He walked away from her with a wry smile and passed by San, who stood there for a few seconds staring at Y/N until he shook his head and followed him.
She left there, feeling suffocated and her legs were shaking like never before, no longer able to control her tears, she leaned against the wall and looked at the clear sky, all the memories that she had been forced to bury came back with much more intensity.
[...]
7 years ago
“Get out of my house, please.” she begged without having the courage to look into his dark, gentle eyes, she would weaken if she did, especially if he was crying like her.
“Y/N, explain to me what’s going on.” he pleaded and she had to choke back a sob.
"It's over. Go away." She touched the door handle with her back to him, she was about to open it when he gently grabbed her arm.
“Something happened, right?" she took a deep breath before looking at him, feeling her heart break into thousands of pieces and sink into her stomach.
“What happened is that I don’t want you anymore, San. Don't insist." Her voice came out shaky and she knew she hadn't convinced him yet, she was about to break down in front of him but she couldn't. “We’re too young, it would never work.”
"Are you sure about that?" San slowly let go of her arm and looked at her completely lost.
She didn't respond, just opened the door with a silent message for him to leave.
No scene broke her heart like that when she saw him leaving with his head down, hands in his pants pockets and a tear running down his face.
She needed all the strength she didn't even know she had left to ignore the urge to hug him and tell him how much she loved him. Instead, Y/N closed the door and fell to the floor, now without needing or being able to control her crying.
She cried about so many things, she couldn't even list or understand what he cried most about, but she was sure she had made the biggest mistake of her life.
She had never felt so empty.
She was angry, scared, sorry and most of all, she was sad.
Because she had lost the only joy in her life, for a mistake that wasn't hers, for a decision that wasn't hers.
“Daughter…” Y/N looked at the stairs and saw her father coming down the steps, deflated and with a guilty expression.
She passed her hand over her face, drying her tears and got up from the floor. With long and silent steps, she walked past her father with the intention of locking herself in her room.
She would still have that night to sleep in her bed.
"I'm so-"
“Don’t finish that sentence.” She turned angrily, glaring at her father as she sighed. “I did what you wanted, now leave me alone.”
[...]
In recent years, Y/N has tried to erase that memory from her head. She didn't want to relive it like she did in the first nights when her life had changed, when she was brought back to reality with nightmares.
She didn't want to feel again the hurt she had towards her father for doing that to her and even less did she want to feel her heart break again when remembered San being devastated because she had broken up with him.
Even though she had managed to bury that day in the depths of her consciousness, that emptiness was always there.
And now here she was, being haunted by the ghosts of her past and crying like the heartbroken teenager she once was.
She wiped her face, thankful for her makeup being waterproof, approaching the balcony and surveying the bustling city.
A wave of nostalgia washed over her. She missed home, the happy moments she lived that were now just memories, she even missed her father. But mostly, she missed who she used to be.
The girl who had dreams and insecurities, which were always hushed up by San.
He was always everything for her, the kisses he distributed on her face and the convinced way he said that she would achieve everything she dreamed of, made her believe at the time.
She stayed there for a long time in silence, alone and without security guards watching her every step, making her feel free.
“It’s a wonderful view.” Y/N jumped in fright when she heard San's voice so close.
Looking to the side, she noticed he was next to her.
How and when did he get there?
“Yeah, the city is amazing.” she replied, still feeling her heart beating faster, she just didn't know if it was because of the scare or just because of him.
“I wasn’t talking about the city.” she felt San's eyes boring into her and a shiver ran down the back of her neck.
Since when was San so direct like that? Who had he learned to be like this from?
“Aren’t you supposed to be playing poker or something?” she changed the subject, still looking at the city.
“An hour ago I was.”
Y/N frowned.
Hour? Had she stayed there for an hour?
“So you closed the deal.” She took a deep breath and found the courage to look at him.
San nodded silently.
“You don’t seem very happy about this.” he smiled sideways, leaning on a pillar.
Happy? She didn't even know what that was anymore.
“I just hope you know what you’re getting into.” she shrugged, sighing.
“Why don’t you explain it to me?” San looked at her intensely and she returned it, unable to look away.
She could, a part of her screamed at her to do so, but she knew what she had to lose and she couldn't risk it, not now that he was there and she couldn't protect him from Seungho's fury.
"You wouldn't understand."
“Maybe I should warn you.” he took a step towards her while keeping his tone serious, without looking away.
“I'm not kidding, San. Be careful."
Y/N's intention was to get out of there quickly, but he stopped her from continuing when he gently grabbed her wrist.
The contact made her stop, her heart beating faster. Feeling his touch again was everything she had asked for, being close to him was much more than she thought she deserved.
“So let’s be clear that I’m not kidding either.” She could practically feel his breath, his face was so close she could touch it at any moment if she stayed there. “In nothing I did or said today.” She swallowed hard and looked at him, seeing the conviction in his dark eyes and once again, she was left speechless.
She wanted to cry, for so many nights she had dreamed of those same eyes and it seemed like a dream that he was there so close to her and at the same time so far away, because even though he was the San she knew, he was no longer the same.
He had a certain power, a fire in his iris that she had never seen before, that she couldn't identify.
But it was very different from the way Seungho looked at her as if she were his property.
Y/N's eyes went down to San's lips, they looked extremely inviting and she wondered if it still tasted the same, the attention she returned to San's mouth didn't go unnoticed by him as he wet his lips with his own tongue.
Before she could get even closer to him, Y/N blinked a few times until she remembered where she was and who she was with, if Seungho arrived at that moment it wouldn't be good, especially for San.
Thinking about it, against every cell in her body she pulled away from San and his touch.
“Have a good day, San.”
She got out of there as quickly as her feet would allow her before she did something she would regret later, she didn't look back and was thankful once again that she was without security guards.
She arrived at reception and Seungho was leaning on the counter with his phone to his ear.
“Y/N!” he called with his free hand and turned his attention to someone else on the other end of the line. “Matt, I already took care of all that.” She approached him paying attention to the conversation, it was probably something related to their return. “You know she's good for much more than that. Okay, I’ll be there.” he hung up, huffing.
"Problems?" Y/N asked without the slightest interest.
“I have to receive a load today from the other side of town and they require my presence.” he informed, irritated.
“I’ll go upstairs and get our bags then.” she pointed to the elevator and was ready to go when he stopped her, raising his hand.
“No, Y/N.” he scratched his head and she knew something was wrong. “I haven’t finished the entire transaction with San yet.” she crossed her arms, waiting for him to finish. “And you know this hotel does business with me.”
"I know that."
That part of the city was heavily influenced by Seungho. Hotels, banks, even the hospital operated when and how he wanted.
“A luxurious dinner will be held to welcome Mr. Choi.”
“What’s all this-” she frowned.
“I need you to accompany him to this party and explain that I had an unforeseen event but we will finish tomorrow when I arrive.” he interrupted her and Y/N felt her expression fall.
Would she be alone with San for a whole night by his side?
"What?" She didn't want to show despair but it had become difficult after that. “No… I can’t… I can’t.”
Explaining to him what was really going through her head was out of the question.
“I need this partnership. Matt will be with me and you are the only one who can be here representing me.”
“Postpone receiving the load then.” she shrugged and he took a deep breath, visibly irritated. “I’m not you, I don’t have to deal with your business.”
It wasn't part of the role she had played in those years. For business, she was just the statue that if she winked at the partners, with the right clothes, she could make them close the deal faster.
Seungho was too jealous to let her be alone with a man for two hours, let alone an entire night.
This then meant that whatever the deal was with San, he didn't want to risk losing it.
Annoyed, he held Y/N by her arm with a somewhat unnecessary force, making her look into his eyes, to see that he was serious.
“I'm not asking you to accompany him, I'm ordering you to.” In fear, she lowered her head, giving up. “Don’t worry, my love.” He got closer and his mouth met her ear. “Tomorrow we will have all day to make up for the time we lost.”
She wanted to laugh but held back, sleeping with him was the last thing on her mind at the moment.
In fact, her mind was too busy with images of San in a suit.
[...]
Y/N spent the entire afternoon getting ready for dinner at the hotel with the help of a small team that Seungho hired to make her look magnificent.
Small because she had begged him, she wasn't a Hollywood actress after all, a football team taking care of her appearance for a simple dinner was unnecessary.
He had made it very clear before leaving that she must use every trick to convince San to wait until tomorrow. For Seungho, this was her only role, to seduce his partners.
Seduce, never go to bed with them.
Because for Seungho, she had to have her eyes focused only on him, and according to his theory, the more instigated to have Y/N, the more the partners would be committed to maintaining an agreement.
Basically, she was there to make these men fools, believing that one day they could have something with her behind Seungho's back.
At eight o'clock at night she was ready and couldn't deny that the job had been well done.
The red dress was long with a strap on one side and a detail at the waist that made it much more elegant, black sandals on her feet and ruby earrings that Seungho had given her, like the countless expensive jewelry she had been receiving in recent years.
She believed that he gifted her with expensive and luxurious things just to keep her with him, as if it made her wonder if she could live without flaunting the good life she had achieved.
Each piece of jewelry increased her indifference towards him, because it made her feel like she had been bought by him again.
The makeup had highlighted Y/N's face in an elegant way and she insisted on wearing red lipstick, she was trying her best to do the job, finally her hair was left loose but left aside.
She even tried to take a deep breath when she left the room but she couldn't lie to herself in that situation, she was nervous. More than that, she was anxious!
Seungho had left one of his security guards to take care of her, of course he wouldn't be that stupid, but when she arrived at the main hall and saw San smiling at some people he was talking to friendly, Y/N totally forgot about security or anything else.
It would be cliché to say that she couldn't take her eyes off him, but it was the truth, he looked wonderful. Breathtaking.
He wasn't as formal as he was in the morning, he was wearing a suit but without a blazer, just a black vest, the sleeves of his white blouse were rolled up to his elbows with the first two buttons open and his tie was slightly loosened.
He had his hair pulled back but with a few strands in his face.
God, even if he tried hard for 20 years he wouldn't be able to get ugly.
San realized he was being watched and looked towards Y/N, smiling brightly at her and he came to meet her quickly.
“Miss Y/N.” He took her hand and kissed it gently, like a perfect gentleman and it was enough to make her heart skip a beat, and her legs tremble slightly. “You look gorgeous.”
She smiled restrainedly.
“Thank you, Mr. Choi, I must say you look really nice too.” she tried to keep her tone formal to keep the theater for security.
"Would you like something to drink?" he looked at the security guard and she understood what he was planning.
"Of course." she replied and he put his arm through hers, she looked at the security guard who was watching them closely. “You don’t need to follow me, I’m fine.” she ordered and he agreed, stopping where he was and San took her away.
“The compliment was true.” he said without looking at her face.
"So was mine." she replied quietly, feeling her cheeks burn.
“You got a babysitter from your boyfriend, huh?”
Y/N could feel the jealousy in his voice and it made her smile discreetly.
“The babysitter isn’t for me, it’s for you.”
They arrived at the mini bar and he ordered two drinks.
“Is he afraid you’ll fall for my charms?” he turned to face her and got closer, making Y/N get lost in his scent.
That was it, she was intoxicated by everything about him. The smell, his voice, the heat of his body, which wasn't enough because she knew he was much hotter than that, she just needed to get closer.
“Actually, he’s afraid you’ll run away.”
“And you’re here to make sure I stay?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.
She searched in her head a decent answer but all that came out was just the truth.
“I’m here to make you stay.” she said even though she wished she could do otherwise.
If she had the power, she would make San move far away from her and Seungho, for his own good.
“And how do you intend to do that?” he took a step forward, their bodies practically touching. It was incredible, it seemed like he could read her mind.
Because she wanted to get closer, enough to put her hands on his broad shoulders.
“He asked me to seduce you.” she replied quietly and couldn't take her eyes off his mouth.
“Can you do it or will I seduce you first?”
Y/N didn't imagine that San would be so sexy like that and as dangerous as that game was, she was loving it.
What she remembered was a much shyer and not so confident San.
She held back the urge to bite her lip.
“You’re going to need a lot more than whispers to seduce me.”
Of course, as if she could convince herself of that.
He had just approached her and she was already feeling weak in the knees.
“That’s what we’ll see.” San smirked and walked away at the exact moment the bartender brought the drinks.
He handed the drink to Y/N who drank some while observing the room.
She managed to identify at least three more Seungho's bodyguard, and it wasn't surprising since she knew he would never leave just one of his men watching her.
Not when she had already tried to escape from him a few times in the past, without success, obviously.
No matter where she went, whoever she asked for help, Kim always found her and brought her back.
She was so lost in her analysis that she didn't notice when San brought his mouth to her ear to whisper.
“Can I show you something?”
She suppressed a smile and took a deep breath before looking at him, seeing him smile so close to her.
His smile still had the same effect on her, as if the sun had risen in the cloudy sky. It was the light in the midst of darkness.
It wasn't like she had the strength to deny it.
He held out his free hand and she took it, being led out of the room soon after.
The party took place near the pool and only a thick, red curtain separated the two places, Y/N sighed as she observed the full moon, which was brighter than usual, she had never seen it so beautiful.
San let go of her hand only to sit on one of the lounge chairs, she turned to face him when she felt the touch disappear and came closer but still remained standing.
“What did you want to show me?” she asked, quite curious.
“Nothing, I just wanted to be alone with you.” he confessed, resting his hands behind his head after placing the drink on the floor.
Y/N swallowed hard at the movement, as his arms were in evidence and she thought it more prudent to remain silent, this time returning her gaze to the crystal clear water of the pool, feeling not only her cheeks heat up but also her heart.
It seemed like even if she wanted to bury the old version of her that night, she couldn't.
“I know it’s been years, but I want you to know that I never gave up on you.”
She looked at him at the same moment, San didn't take his eyes off her and spoke with such conviction that it left her speechless.
All she wanted was to be able to throw herself into his lap and kiss him all at once. Only if the situation had been different, if they hadn't met again like that...
But time wasn't fair to them, it wasn't in the past and it wasn't now.
“I think I prefer it when you flirt with me.” Unable to contain herself, she spoke out loud and wanted to beat herself up for it.
“I can do that too.” he shrugged, getting up from the lounge chair. “I can do a lot of things.” He got closer and she felt her body go still at the short distance. This was the time she should take a step back, right? “Especially the ones you want.” she felt his hand on her wrist, going up her elbow in a pleasant way and making goose bumps go up her arm.
Damn it.
Y/N held the glass tightly, trying her best to remember what she was there for and especially what she shouldn't do.
San noticed the tension and took the dronk out of her hand, ending the sudden affection, placing it on the floor but Y/N wasn't prepared for what would come next, thinking he would just stare deeply at her like he had been doing.
But one of his hands found her waist while his mouth found her cheek, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the warm skin.
“You shouldn’t tease me like that.” She closed her eyes, letting herself go for a few seconds.
“Afraid to like it?” he asked close to her ear and his mouth went down to Y/N's chin, involuntarily one of her hands tightened on the arm that was holding her waist.
"This is wrong." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.
It was? Wasn't she on board with Kim's plan?
“But you want that." He bit her chin, and she could feel him smiling.
"No." although her mouth said something, Y/N's body said the exact opposite. She dug her nails into San's arm and felt her body getting weaker and weaker.
She mentally begged him to kiss her and end that miserable tension.
“Y/N…” she stifled a moan when she heard her name being spoken so quietly by San’s seductive voice.
It was wrong and dangerous, but why did it feel so right?
She felt that San was about to kiss her, she felt his breath against her mouth and no matter how much her rational side screamed for her to stay away, her emotional side was controlling everything because that was what she wanted from the moment she saw him in the morning.
She had missed so much being in his arms, feeling loved, protected.
She felt San's lips so close, her own hands going up to his shoulders and she was ready to give in, when his lips touched hers just enough to make a slight tickle, the image of Seungho with a gun appeared in her head.
"No!"
Y/N pushed San and suddenly he no longer held her, not even his perfume covered the radius they were in, she opened her eyes to find him startled.
She took two steps back, placing her hands on her forehead, now regaining lucidity.
What was she thinking? How could she think of putting him in danger like that?
“Don’t do that” she trembled, feeling her eyes tear up. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“But, Y/N…” he took a step towards her and she raised her hand, asking him to stop right there.
He obeyed, confused and hurt.
"You wouldn't understand." she shook her head to get the image of Seungho finishing him off from her mind.
“Maybe if you explained it I could.”
She ran her hand over her own arm, not knowing what to say. If he continued to insist, she would eventually give in and things wouldn't end well.
San followed the movement and his eyes stopped at a specific place.
“What’s that scar on your arm?” he asked and she automatically stared at her own skin.
Y/N blamed herself for not choosing a long-sleeved dress, mainly because the scar was recent so it was lighter and she hadn't even remembered about it.
"I need to go." Once again she deviated from the subject, if she continued there she would end up saying everything she shouldn't have and that was definitely out of the question.
She would never forgive herself if something happened to San because she had told him everything, even if that was her wish. To finally clear things up, after so long.
She ran out of there as best she could, avoiding passing through the room where that damn party was taking place and hoped that San wouldn't go after her, deep down she knew he would leave her alone after that outburst but she only became calmer when the elevator doors closed with a bang, her inside that cubicle.
Unable to control it any longer, she let the tears she had been holding back for a long time fall, it seemed like an eternity before she arrived at the presidential suite.
She stumbled into the elevator because of her tears and took the opportunity to take off her heels right there, she no longer cared about her appearance as she had been taken care of for hours. Seungho's plan hadn't worked anyway so screw the party, the appearances and all that stupid luxury.
When she arrived, she threw her heels in any corner of the huge, cold room as she closed the door behind her, ran her fingers through her hair and took off her dress without any will.
All she wanted most was to lie in bed and sleep for a good twenty years.
And even she tried, she knew it wouldn't be easy to sleep that night, not after everything that had happened and to make even worse, everything she had tried to forget about the past was playing intensely in her head.
The memories she had with San, all the first times with him, from when they met until the day she broke up with him, her happy childhood and her difficult adolescence of having to deal with her father's addiction that affected the entire family.
Hugging the pillow, she let the tears fall again as she lay there alone once again, as it had been repeating since her father had spoken the harsh words that had changed her life.
[...]
It was already past 10 am when Y/N decided to leave the room and go to the pool, the weather was nice to take a few dips and that would help her forget everything that had happened, at least for a few hours until she was away from that hotel.
She put on a very simple white bikini, a long white button-down blouse so she wouldn't be walking around the hotel with nothing covering her body, white flip-flops and big glasses to hide the dark circles under her eyes from last night.
Luckily for her the pool area was empty and Seungho's security hadn't come after her so far, which meant she was free for who knows how long, she left her things on one of the sun loungers and her sunglasses were also left behind.
It didn't take long to enjoy the warm water, trying to wash away any traces of guilt and uncertainty.
After wetting her hair and swimming a little, she leaned against the edge, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her skin as if it were giving her strength back.
She tried not to think about anything, just wanted to enjoy some time she didn't usually have, alone and quiet with her own conscience.
She felt the water become more agitated but she didn't pay any attention, she was feeling so light that she didn't even care that someone was there too.
The pool was big enough for that.
However, when she realized that someone was too close, she couldn't help but open her eyes and look at whoever it was.
Y/N need to rest her arms on the edge of the pool when she saw San standing in front of her with a shy smile and no shirt.
She had a very privileged view of San's bare torso, she knew he had gotten stronger but she couldn't imagine how much and she couldn't even disguise the way her eyes observed San's broad and strong shoulders, going down his chest. She couldn't see his abs clearly because the water was getting in the way of having a clear view of how defined he was, but realizing that he was there in just black swim trunks made her lose her train of thought completely.
Even with the water distorting a little, she could see how thick his thighs were.
Okay, San had turned into a personification of some Greek god and she couldn't stop looking at him to burn every bit of him into her memory, which conflicted when she remembered what he was like in the past.
She had never imagined that he could be so… hot.
She cleared her throat, trying unsuccessfully to hide it, and looked away, missing the opportunity to see his raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” she spoke quietly.
“I was worried about you.” he admitted firmly and she swallowed hard.
“Let’s not talk about last night, please.” she pleaded, sighing and looking back at him.
San was serious, not mad at her, but he seemed to be trying to figure her out.
“We will need to talk one day, Y/N.”
“If that's why you came here…” she started to leave, but was stopped by San who put his arm on the edge of the pool and brought his body closer to hers, still without truly touching her. "What do you want?" she asked, pretending to be impatient.
He put his other arm on the other side, trapping her there and Y/N had nothing to do but look him in the eyes.
“Does he hit you?” it was simple and direct, making her jaw drop slightly.
"What…?" She released a breath that until then she hadn't even realized she had been holding. "Who?" She tried to pretend she didn't understand.
San cocked his head to the side, only to stare at her more intensely.
“Kim Seungho.” he spoke the name between his teeth. “Does he hit you, Y/N?” he asked, this time his tone became more serious and his eyes locked with hers.
He already knew the answer without her even answering, but he wasn't going to give up so easily because the only thing he needed was for her to tell the truth and then they could find an alternative.
"No!" she replied desperately, her voice became even thinner. “I mean, where did you get that idea?” she crossed her arms, trying to be defensive but she was actually scared.
If San found out the truth, she didn't know what he might do.
“That scar wasn’t made for a silly reason and now seeing you in that bikini, in addition to seeing that your body is still beautiful, I can also see some purple on your legs and belly.”
She swallowed hard, trying to think quickly of a convincing answer.
“The scar… I've had it since, uh, I was a kid” she forced her throat to stop stuttering but his attentive eyes weren't helping. “and the purple ones… well, I’m very distracted.”
“Do you think I don’t remember all your scars, Y/N?” He brought his face closer to hers and she didn't have the strength to turn away. “I had the image of your body in my head for years, I remember every inch of you.” she felt her body shiver and sighed slowly. “Tell me the truth, Y/N. Please." he pleaded.
One of his hands touched Y/N's face, making a pleasant caress and she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes when she felt the soft touch.
“That’s a low blow.” she spoke quietly, fighting her eyes that insisted on closing.
"And yeah?" she could feel he was smiling. “You know, I remember you loved a kiss below your ear.”
Of course she loved it mainly because only he knew about it.
She couldn't think about much or open her eyes because his mouth was already practicing what his voice announced.
Y/N put her hand on San's shoulder and found that the sun did a great job of warming their bodies, but their skin wasn't the only thing that was hot there.
Her hand squeezed San's exposed skin, suppressing a moan as she felt his breath right next to her neck. She was unable to reason with that sudden approach, nor even breathe properly like a normal person.
"So?" he asked, lips touched her skin as he spoke but Y/N was too lost in that sensation to remember what his question was.
San moved his face away and she opened her eyes at the same moment, missing the contact, he looked at her, urging her to respond.
"What?" was all she could say.
“Y/N, I’m waiting for an answer.” He raised an eyebrow and she felt her legs tremble again.
Her mouth suddenly became dry and she had to use her own tongue to wet it, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by San.
“Do you think… I have the capacity… to talk after this?” she was panting and hadn't even kissed him.
San laughed softly, his dimple showing.
“Good to know I still have some power over you.” he said, cocky.
“It’s so much more than that, Sannie.” he smiled sadly at the old nickname. “I have always loved you and I will always love you.” her hands went to his face, making him look deep into her eyes. “But I can’t tell you, forgive me.” she said, seeing him take a deep breath. “Please don’t continue with this transition, cancel this damn partnership. This is all too dangerous and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I just…” she looked down, unable to continue, water was calm but a storm was still coming.
San brought a hand to her chin, making their eyes meet again.
"Just…?" he urged her to continue.
“I’m afraid of losing you again.” she confessed, straightforward.
San didn't say anything and neither did she dare continue, she had already said too much, he then brought his face closer to hers and ended that distance once and for all, Y/N could only close her eyes when San's soft and warm lips touched hers. So softly that it made her sigh against the kiss.
He didn't deepen the kiss or move his lips, he kept the touch for a few seconds that lasted for eternity and Y/N felt her eyes water even though they were closed, the hand that was still on Y/N's chin went down to her the back of her neck when he broke the kiss and her heart seemed to want to jump out of her mouth, she didn't even know how she was still standing.
Without the courage to open her eyes, because she knew she would cry like a child in front of him, Y/N didn't expect San to hug her so tightly that it sounded like a goodbye, the kind that leaves you breathless.
She grabbed him by the neck and rested her face on his shoulder while the tears ran down her face and got lost on San's skin, she could have stayed there hugging him forever.
San ran his hands down her spine and caressed her, feeling his breath on the back of her neck, Y/N closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of being safe even if for that brief moment.
The sun burning on their skin lasted as long as the hug, which none of them had any idea how long it had lasted, but it had been enough to strengthen Y/N.
“Never forget what I said.” she spoke quietly and walked away, feeling cold and empty again when she no longer had San's warmth surrounding her, and swam towards the stairs.
She wanted to keep that image of him smiling and welcoming her, that was the reason she didn't look back as she got out of the pool and picked up her things from where she had left them.
She hoped that one day San would understand why she kept a secret from him and who knows, he could even one day forgive her.
She knew that she had hurt him in the past but it wasn't because she was cruel, she was just trying to protect the one she loved. Including San.
She looked at her feet on the way back to reception and was ready to go to her room, but that wasn't exactly what happened.
A pair of expensive shoes stopped in front of her, stopping her from continuing on her way and she would have been rude if she hadn't been taken by surprise.
Seungho was in front of her with his arms crossed and his expression not at all pleasant.
“Beautiful scene, I think it deserves applause.” his voice was cold and he didn't even blink, she knew what was coming next and even so it didn't stop her from starting to shake with fear. “I’m just going to ask once, what the fuck was that?”
[...]
Y/N tried not to sob loudly but despair and fear were speaking louder this time, she didn't even know which floor she was on and she couldn't even think about stepping into reception.
With all of Seungho's security guards downstairs, all that was left for her was to sit on the floor of one of the floors of that hotel while she felt weak and helpless.
She brought her hand to her mouth to try to muffle the sound but when she felt liquid in the corner, she pulled it away and stared at the blood on her finger.
Her blood wouldn't be the only one that would be spilled, she felt anger take over her body and rubbed her hand with the other to try to get the blood out.
“Y/N?”
She looked to the side and even though her vision was blurry because of her tears, she recognized San and sighed with relief.
San knelt in front of her and touched her chin, the lighting in the hallway was low but it didn't stop him from noticing some things, Y/N brought a hand to San's face to make sure he was really there with her.
"What happened to you?" He made to put his hand on her face but decided not to when he saw the tears that were still flowing. "Come with me."
He picked her up slowly, Y/N felt her ribs throb but ignored it as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He walked to the end of the hallway and opened the door to one of the rooms, from which she could see that it was the one he was staying in.
San placed her carefully on the edge of the bed and ran to lock the door, turning on the light in the room and Y/N's eyes watered even more.
In addition to irritation, shame too.
“Can you turn off the light, please?” her voice was weak and choked, she saw San's shoulders sag and looked away from him.
He did as she asked, leaving the room for a few minutes until he returned with a first aid kit.
Y/N took a deep breath and he approached, kneeling in front of her and held her gaze, when she saw that he wasn't going to say anything she looked at him and nodded, accepting that he would treat her injuries.
San did everything necessary and when she hissed in pain, he gently stroked her arm, looking closely at her.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” asked quietly after a quite time in silence, she noticed that he was controlling himself to remain calm.
Without the courage to respond and without any confidence in her own voice, she just nodded, listening to him take two deep breaths.
“How long has this been going on?” Y/N stared at him firmly this time, seeing him with his jaw clenched.
She wasn't ready to hear the answer but it was fair to him, even more so now that he was in danger.
"7 years." she replied quietly, shrugging her shoulders.
San got up from the ground, scratching the back of his head and then clenching his fists.
“That’s since…” his breathing got heavier. Since she had broken up with him, yes. “Y/N, you need to report this guy.” He knelt in front of her again and looked into her eyes, which were already teary again. “You need to step away.”
Carefully, San held her hands, bringing the comfort she needed at the moment.
"I can't."
"You must." he encouraged her and she shook her head, looking in any corner of the room.
“San, I can’t.”
"And why not?" he asked in disbelief.
“Seungho is influential. If I send him to jail for a few days, he might…” she trailed off, completely panicked just thinking about the possibility.
"Might what?" he instigated, he needed an answer and one that would convince him.
“Go after the one I love.” a sob was stuck in her throat. “You don’t understand, San. I have no choice, I can’t betray him, I can barely say no to him.”
He slowly pulled away and she took the opportunity to bring her hand to her face, wiping away the trail of tears.
Her head hurt, her eyes burned, her body was tired and she didn't know what to do. She was terrified.
"What do you mean by that?" He narrowed his eyes and she looked down, already knowing where he was going. “Can’t you say no to anything?”
She nodded silently.
It was difficult to speak out loud, even more so to relive everything she had been through with Seungho in recent years, even though she felt absolutely nothing for him other than contempt, touching those wounds hurt.
“If I dare to say no, this happens.” she pointed to her face.
San looked at her worriedly, his gaze more attentive than ever.
“Y/N…” she fell silent, waiting for him to continue. “Did he force you to do something you didn’t want to?”
San didn't need to say or emphasize the specific word because she didn't need to, she just lowered her head in shame. She couldn't look him in the eye.
"Yes." Y/N didn't even hear her own voice admit it.
All that seemed to have been enough for him, who was now shaking and keeping his hands clenched, the vein in his neck was popping out and he stared at the wall behind Y/N with hatred.
“I will kill him with my own hands.” he spoke slowly, getting ready to get up
"No!" she held San by the hand, preventing him from taking any steps. “San please don’t go.”
She despaired. That's what Kim was wanting.
After having "taught her a lesson", Seungho was very clear that he wouldn't stop until he killed San for having dared to touch what was his, for having had the audacity to kiss Y/N.
She couldn't even say anything, it wasn't like she was going to tell the truth about San's identity or else things would be much worse. Seungho wouldn't only kill San, he would torture him for finding out that he was the one she loved.
And she knew he wasn't joking, his bodyguards were in the lobby to make sure San wouldn't leave there. It didn't matter if he was alive or dead.
"Don't ask me-"
“Don’t leave me here alone.” She tried to get out of bed in a hurry but all she managed to do was trip over her own feet thanks to her throbbing leg.
San was faster and held her by the waist, helping her sit on the bed again very carefully.
“Y/N, don’t get up.” His hand stopped on her thigh, checking if she was okay.
“I just want to forget everything that happened.” she sighed, looking at him sadly.
Maybe it wasn't the best time for it, but San was the only person who could make her forget even her own name and that's what she needed.
“I want to be your Y/N again.” she touched his face, the words seemed to have an effect on him, he understood what she meant but was reluctant. “I just want to feel your touch, even if it’s for one night.”
Y/N's hands slowly trailed down his neck to his hard pecs and his eyes wavered momentarily.
“You’re hurt,” he reminded, voice lower. “I can't-” she put her finger to his mouth, shushing him.
“The only thing I can’t take anymore is this distance.”
San swallowed hard and held her wrist, still undecided whether to push her away or not. It was clear that he wanted this as much as she did, but he was afraid of hurting her.
“I thought that’s what you wanted to do in that pool.”
He looked at her firmly, reading if she had any trace of doubt, but when he realized that she was convinced of what she wanted, he brought his body closer to hers so slowly that it left her intoxicated and his hands went to her waist.
His eyes focused on her mouth and he brought their faces closer, leaving her anxious for what was to come.
But San didn't rush things, quite the opposite, still without putting their lips together he ran his nose along the length of Y/N's face from one side to the other, feeling the soft texture of her skin against him, one he had never forgotten.
Y/N sighed and closed her eyes, her hands still on San's chest, and her heart beat even faster when she felt his lips gently touch hers, making her grab his shirt.
San kissed her carefully and affectionately, his warm, wet lips dictated a slow rhythm that indicated he was just savoring and making up for the time they had lost.
San broke the kiss and she was already panting, without the strength to open her eyes, and then he started a new kiss a little faster.
Y/N took the opportunity to bring him closer, pressing their bodies together and made him move, leaning forward, taking his hands from her waist to rest on the bed as their tongues finally met again, thirstier than ever.
Y/N hugged him around the waist with her legs while her hands went to his back, while San took the opportunity to rest his elbows on the mattress so that his body weight wouldn't hurt her.
He treated her like a porcelain doll, fragile to the point of breaking and although she found all that care very cute, it still wasn't what she wanted.
So, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it up, that useless piece of clothing was just getting in the way anyway, he broke the kiss just so he could take it off while her hands went back to his chest, going down to his abdomen that she stroked.
She felt his skin crawl between her fingers and smiled, now she could see perfectly how much he had worked out over the last few years and she just couldn't stop feeling the texture of his warm skin, as if she could memorize every inch.
"Surprised?" he asked, his husky voice making every hair in Y/N's body stand on end.
She bit her lower lip.
“Not quite the word I would use.”
San laughed softly and brought his face to her neck, where he began to distribute wet, hot kisses, making her rub her hips against his and scratch his abdomen while she closed her eyes.
“There’s someone desperate here.” he confirmed and bit her earlobe, making her squeak softly.
Not because it hurt, but because she liked it. Very much.
“You teased me enough at that party” she replied and he decided to move the kisses to her chin, smiling.
"Thank you love. Red looks great on you too.” He bit her chin as he spoke, now kissing her neck and chest even further. “But I prefer you in that bikini.” He moved the neckline of the dress she was wearing enough to sink his nose between her breasts and her hands automatically went to the back of his head. “Or maybe without it.”
One of San's hands found the end of her dress and began to lift the fabric, he moved his own torso enough to be able to remove the piece from her, which she desperately helped him pass over her own arms.
He took the opportunity to kneel on the bed and observe her in just her underwear, she felt not only her cheeks but her entire body heat up, he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, enough for her to forget the bruises on her face and body.
He tilted his body to stay on top of her, still without letting all his weight fall on her, he distributed kisses along the entire length of her shoulder while she sighed, she was at his mercy and just wanted to enjoy the caresses he distributed over her skin.
San could do whatever he wanted with her. It could be dangerous, uncertain and even wrong, but she wasn't strong enough to fight it and being there with him, she knew she would be okay.
After years she would finally be where she always dreamed, back in his arms being enveloped by the love he still showed for her, which seemed to be ever greater than the last time.
There with him, sighing and moaning his name, it was as if no time had passed.
[...]
Y/N slowly woke up, her body still hurt and her eyes burned from the brightness of the room. So she brought her hands to her face to rub her eyes.
It was then that noticed she wasn't in the presidential suite, patted the other side of the bed that was empty and remembered the night before.
Taking the sheet that covered her body with her, she sat on the bed, brushing her hair away from her face and at the same moment San came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
She smiled discreetly as she stared at his bare and strong torso, memories of the previous night flooded her mind and her cheeks burned.
She had no reason to be shy, but she really was after what they had done last night.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." San smiled widely and came over to give her a peck.
"Good morning." She replied and he stopped, looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Nothing, it's just that… it's good waking up with you by my side."
She smiled, feeling like a fool in love.
"You say like you never slept with me."
"Well, when we were dating everyone thought we didn't sleep together." he shrugged and sat next to her on the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That we were two inexperienced innocents.”
"That's because no one knew you were a pervert." she replied jokingly and his fingers moved to her shoulder, giving her a nice caress.
"You didn't complain about that pervert." He pouted and she laughed, tilting her head.
"Because I love him." she replied, moving closer to kiss him.
However, before they could make an intense noise of sirens could be heard throughout the hotel.
Y/N pulled away, scared looking around as if she could guess what was happening and San sighed.
"What is that?" she asked more to herself and watched as he got up from the bed.
"I wish I had told you sooner."
She frowned.
"Told what?" asked but San didn't respond immediately, he approached the suitcase that was on top of the armchair in the room and opened it, taking the towel off his waist and leaving himself in just his underwear in front of Y/N who was watching him curiously.
She saw San put on dark pants and then a white t-shirt, which really highlighted his torso, but the shock came when he took off a vest and she felt her jaw drop when she realized it was bulletproof, she knew because she saw the word police written on the front.
Feeling her head spin, she had to put her hand on the bed to keep herself standing, or in this case, sitting.
"San, what is this?" the weak voice asked and he finished putting on his shoe.
"Come with me." he asked and she looked at him confused. "Do you trust me?"
She didn't even need to think about the answer.
"Always."
San approached the bed and reached out to her, Y/N held it and got up from the bed.
He separated his own clothes for her to wear besides her thin dress and she did so, still not understanding what was happening, San made her wear a blazer that looked huge on her but covered most of the bruises on her arm.
He took her out of the room and they took the elevator, she was distressed because San didn't say what was happening even there alone, keeping his hand on her waist and his expression too calm.
She was already internally biting her cheek and when she got out of the elevator she saw that the place was full of police officers, uniformed and armed.
Y/N followed with her gaze a police officer who passed in front of her with a very large gun, hearing San's low laugh that made her continue walking forward.
In the hotel lobby, she was able to get a sense of the situation. Several of Seungho's henchmen were kneeling on the floor with their hands on top of their heads while some of the police officers watched them quite angrily, others walked around the hotel looking for something.
"Detective Choi."
Y/N turned her head so fast it made a noise, San patted her back before reaching out to the approaching police officer.
"Kang." he greeted his colleague, adopting a more serious pose.
"Everything is in order, the evidence and witnesses are being taken now."
San nodded and the officer turned his attention to Y/N. "And Miss-"
"Don't worry, I'll walk her to the police station myself." San spoke firmly as her eyes widened.
Police station? Would she go to the police station?
The police officer nodded and left, leaving San and Y/N alone.
"What is happening?" she asked quietly, and he held her shoulders gently.
"Follow me." she wanted to understand what was happening but his eyes said that everything would be fine and she believed it.
That's why she silently agreed and let San take her outside, towards a black car, he opened the passenger door for her and she got in without question. San got in on the other side and started the car while Y/N put her hands together to play with her fingers, waiting for him to start talking.
“Where do you want me to start?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the street.
Y/N shrugged, laughing lightly.
"You are cop." she confirmed and looked at him, seeing him nod his head.
“When you broke up with me 7 years ago, I knew something was wrong.” he took a deep breath. “I was always convinced that you would never do that to me if you didn't have a very strong reason, we always talked about plans for our future and one night you just didn't want it anymore?” He glanced at her, seeing that she was immersed in the explanation, he continued “The next day, I returned to your house, I was determined to talk to you more calmly but when I arrived at the corner I saw that you were leaving with your bags from home, what surprised me most was the fact that you said goodbye to your mother but you didn't even look at your father's face.”
Y/N took a deep breath. That scene of saying goodbye to her parents was like a blur in her head, the only thing she remembered was that she began to understand the meaning of being alone.
“Your father was your hero, your rock and you simply ignored him before getting into a car that had never been in your house before.”
“It wasn’t the easiest day of my life.” she commented, resting her head on the car seat.
“I know, me either.” San stopped the car at the traffic lights and turned to face her. “That’s why after I saw you driving away in that car, I knocked on the door.”
Y/N's jaw dropped.
"What?"
“Your mother answered, she was devastated but it seemed like she knew I was going to show up, when I walked in… Your father was drinking, he was crying and saying he had destroyed your life.”
Y/N felt her nose itch, indicating that her eyes were about to water.
“I asked them to explain to me what was happening, I don’t know, I wanted to be able to help in some way.” he shrugged and the car started moving again, with San turning his attention to the street again. “Your father told me he bet you on a game, that he was an addict and that he had lost the only thing that mattered. At first I didn’t want to believe it.” he laughed, humorlessly. “That was the script for an Italian mobster movie, but your mother confirmed the version and said they were forced to hand it over to you or else everyone would suffer the consequences.”
She took a deep breath, staring into space.
That was the truth.
She never chose Seungho, she was forced to or he would start killing everyone she loved, starting with her father.
“After a few days of crying like a teenager I was, I went to talk to Hongjoong. His uncle was a police officer and heard the story, he told me who the Kim family was and what Seungho was capable of since at the time he was starting to take over a good part of the west of the city. He told me that there were rumors among the police that he had gone after your father and instigated his addiction to cards because he wanted to have you.” she swallowed. She already knew this version of the story and still reacted the same way. “He had become obsessed with you and had done everything on purpose. I was so angry, I had never felt such hatred as I did that day. I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling that.”
Y/N looked at him, there was a certain anger in San's words and his jaw was clenched.
“That day I promised myself that I would take revenge, that I would make him pay for everything he had done to you, for stealing your life. Our life.”
San looked at her and smiled sadly.
“And I joined the police, I wanted to do things the right way.” she smiled lightly, it was obvious to her. San was always very correct. “But it wasn’t that easy. I needed to prove to everyone that I was capable, I went through a lot of things in the police to reach the day when I would finally have the opportunity to start investigating the Kim family.”
“And you didn’t deny that chance.” It wasn't a question.
San parked the car and she looked outside, seeing that they were already at the police station, he rested his arm on the steering wheel and turned towards her.
“I couldn’t, we would only have this opportunity to catch him. He didn't know my face, he didn't know who I was, we created a way to bring our team closer to him. And it worked, he believed it.”
She took off her belt and turned to San.
“You already knew you would find me.”
He nodded and held one of her hands, giving it a gentle caress.
“I know it will seem strange but I followed your every step, it was part of the investigation.”
She felt a shiver run down the back of her neck.
“Am I going to be arrested?”
San pressed his lips together in a thin line and brought his hand to caress her face.
“No, you are the main witness in this case, everyone knows that you were just one of his victims. With all the evidence I've gathered, you're all clear. But you need to tell the police everything you know.”
Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach and took a deep breath.
“Okay, if that’s what I have to do to end this story once and for all.” she nodded and he smiled widely at her. “What about last night…”
He laughed, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.
“Well, you don’t need to say.”
She laughed too.
San approached and kissed her forehead, making her sigh.
“I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I thought it was impossible for me to love you more, but I do.” she shrugged and saw his eyes light up, just like they did last night. “If I stayed sane all these years, it was thanks to you.”
San kissed the tip of her nose.
“I would do anything for you, to keep you safe. I love you, Y/N.”
“What about us?”
"Us?" he pretended to think for a moment and she narrowed her eyes, smiling. “I think we still have a lot to make up for.”
#san fanfic#san x reader#san fluff#san imagines#choi san imagines#san scenarios#choi san scenarios#san smut#san fic#choi san fanfic#san x you#san x y/n#choi san x reader#choi san x you#ateez scenarios#ateez x reader#ateez imagine#ateez imagines#ateez x you#ateez scenario#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#ateez mafia au#ateez fic#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop x reader#kpop x you
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birthday sex
pairing: jill valentine x reader
tags/cws: lingerie, oral, thigh riding, overstim, sex toys, jill is a tease and a menace
summary: reader and jill are dating and reader doesn't know what to get jill for her birthday and ends up deciding on surprising her by wearing a lace bodysuit
a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
wc: 1.5k
tags: @vaaaaaiolet @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart
Buying Jill a birthday present is impossible. Whenever you ask her what she wants, her answer is always, 'I don't need anything, I have you, and I'm more than happy with that', and you’d persist if her compliments didn’t fluster you – they always do. But as her special day gets closer, you become more and more fixated on that one thought: she deserves something special.
You decide that if the only thing she wants is you, then you'll wrap yourself up like a present and - the realization hits you. You've never worn lingerie in front of Jill - or anyone, for that matter. You’d always thought it’d be such a hassle to go out and spend so long trying things on for them to be taken off immediately if and when you first get to show them off.
And you’re proven right about the hassle. You spend hours (and a fortune) at Victoria's Secret one afternoon, and come home absolutely exhausted after you find the perfect lace bodysuit (and take advantage of the store's 5 for 35 dollars sale on panties).
You're even more exhausted the next day when you have to figure out how to put the garment on without an employee guiding you - you pray it'll be easier to take off, or you'll have to let Jill rip it off of you. Which wouldn't be all that bad, come to think of it.
Your tiredness subsides – or is overwritten by desire – when Jill walks in dressed in her typical office wear, which never fails to turn you on. As does everything else she wears.
You greet her at the door, a little giddy about the surprise you've planned for her. It’s not that you’re not always happy to see her, you’re just usually half-asleep on the couch after your own long work day.
Jill notices your unique excitement and gives you a look of suspicion - intrigue, too, and asks, "what's going on?"
"Nothing," you say, sarcastically adding, "Oh, except for your birthday. I almost forgot."
"I'm sure you did. It's not like you've been asking me everyday for the last three weeks how I want to spend it."
"I know you probably want to relax a bit first since you've had a long day at work, but I do want to give you your present."
"I told you not to get me anything."
"You'll like it… I hope."
"Now I'm really curious."
"Then, follow me."
You take her hand and lead her to her bedroom. You have her sit on the bed.
"Stay there," you say, "and close your eyes."
"Fine, but I swear to god if it's some sort of reptile or tarantula-"
"Not even close."
Though her eyes are closed, she can hear your clothes hitting the floor, and her lips curve into a smile, knowing what's to come.
You walk towards her, close enough that she can touch you. You take her hand and guide it over the fabric and she hums in satisfaction. "So far, I'm liking my gift."
"Open your eyes and see the rest."
She does, and you see that rare full grin of hers that makes you want to jump with joy (though, your mind is a bit preoccupied with the thought of what she might do to you in the coming moments, so if you equate arousal and joy, then yeah, you’re feeling pretty fucking joyful).
"Take a seat, beautiful," she says, patting her lap.
Jill has you right where she wants you, straddling her thigh, ruining her good pants since the lacy panties do little to cover up your wetness. It's not like you could hide it from her anyway. It's painted all over your face— lust.
You lean in to kiss her, but she grabs your cheeks before your lips can touch hers.
"Ah-ah," she says, "my birthday, my rules."
She coaxes you to nod with her hand still cupping your face.
"You're not even gonna kiss me?" you whine.
"If I kiss you, then I have to close my eyes and right now, I want to see you."
"It's only fair if I get to see you too."
"I'm right here, baby doll."
She knows what you mean, but you have no rebuttal. The fact of the matter is: Jill looks hot with or without her clothes on.
"Maybe you should give me a reason to take off my clothes," she says. "Why don't you finish what you started?"
Her gaze points you towards the wet spot on her thigh.
Desire surpasses embarrassment and you place your hands on Jill's shoulders for better leverage as you slowly but steadily grind against her thigh.
"Look at me," she says, lifting your chin. "As much as I love your gorgeous body, I wanna see your pretty face too."
If only there were words to describe her beauty, maybe, then, you'd be able to use them. You’re speechless, but not quiet, your mouth is occupied by breathy moans.
Not because she's nice, but because she's impatient, Jill hoists you up and strips down to her underwear. Before she places you back where you belong – straddling her thigh – she finds the buttons at the crotch of your bodysuit and undoes them, leaving your glistening slit on display.
She coaxes you into your first orgasm of the night with her sultry voice and her hands on your hips, guiding you.
You'd be an idiot to think it was over.
It's orgasm after orgasm until you're crying, begging Jill to give you a breather, begging her to take her clothes all the way off, begging her to let you touch her.
But no, she holds a vibrator to your clit and tells you you're a good girl for taking it. Those two words "good girl" have you wrapped around her finger(s), which pump in and out of you, over and over again.
"Jill, I can't," you say after the umpteenth time she's sent you over the edge. "It's too much."
"Am I hurting you?" she asks with genuine concern.
"No, it doesn't hurt… I'm just sensitive."
She hums in understanding, in momentary surrender, as she removes all stimulation.
You sigh as relief washes over you, but it only lasts for a second before it turns back into need. It's like she's trained you, reduced you to the aching feeling in your core.
You watch as she cleans the toys she used on you with the same meticulousness that she does with her weapons (the ones that aren't used against you). She's only half-focused, peeking at you in her periphery. You have the same power over her as she does over you. She cannot suppress her desire anymore.
"Fuck it," she mutters, placing the vibrator on the bedside table and climbing into bed with you.
"Fuck me," you say.
"That's the plan," she says.
The next conscious thought you have is how soft her lips are despite the fervor in her kisses.
"Can I go down on you?" you ask, giving her your most irresistible pleading face.
She's usually reluctant to let you take control in that way despite the fact that it makes her cum the hardest. It feels like she's baring her soul to you when she lets go of control in those moments.
"Promise I'll take good care of you," you say. "And we can stop whenever you want."
If there is one thing she feels for you, it is love. And what is love if not trusting another person with your whole heart?
(If there is one thing you feel it is honored to be trusted and to trust in return).
"Okay," she says, and lies down.
You let her take off her own clothes – what little is left on her body.
"You're so beautiful," you say.
"Shut up," she says, flustered, vulnerable, but most of all insistent that you are the beautiful one in the relationship. It might be the number one thing you argue about.
"Make me," you say, and the words may be cliche, but they have a near perfect success rate.
She shoves your head between her thighs and moans when your tongue swipes along her folds – groans when you pull back to say, "I want you to let yourself feel good, give yourself a birthday gift."
"I was," she whines – a rare sound, one she must’ve learned from you, "but you stopped."
Your apology is muffled against her skin, but your touch can say more than words ever could.
It's her natural instinct to push you away when she nears the edge, feeling vulnerable knowing you'll get to see her, feel her, taste her, in the most intimate way possible. So, when you know she’s about to cum, you grab her thighs, firm but gentle still, and keep your face buried between them.
She barely has time to grab a pillow to muffle her moans. You’d already gotten enough noise complaints from your neighbors, it’s common courtesy at this point.
It takes her a moment to get her bearings straight as you've managed to completely wear her out, and you consider making a joke about her age showing, but you don't.
Instead you say, "happy birthday."
To which she replies a mumbled, "thanks" as she hoists you up so that you're face to face.
And you fall asleep on her chest before you can say anything else.
#jill valentine x reader#jill valentine smut#jill valentine#resident evil smut#resident evil x reader#resident evil fanfiction#liztober
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you can do one with cubarsi where he and the reader are friends with benefits for a while and the reader is insecure because she thinks he doesn't want to date her
Hidden Feelings~Pau Cubarsi
*Pictures are from Pinterest*
i hope you enjoy this one <3
request from here
master list
players/drivers I write for
y/n had always liked her own space, her room, her world, her own little corner of the universe. But recently, that space has been shared with Pau, in ways that blur the lines of friendship.
The first time it happened, they both had laughed it off, chalking it up to a moment of weakness. But one night turned into two, two into countless more, and before they knew it, they were locked in a cycle of stolen kisses and hushed whispers in the dark.
And now, here he is, sitting on the edge of y/n's bed, scrolling through his phone. She watched him intensely, every inch of him as familiar as the lines on her palms. Brown hair that always seems to fall perfectly over his forehead, and those green eyes that seem to hold the entire forest within them. He’s sweet and kind, the type of boy who never fails to make her feel seen, and yet…
Lately, something feels off.
He used to text her more, stay the night more often. But now, his visits are shorter, his texts more sparse and infrequent. The laughter they shared has been replaced by a silence that gnaws at y/n, feeding her insecurities.
She's scared. Scared that he’s getting bored, that maybe this whole thing meant nothing to him, that he’s ready to move on.
y/n catches herself looking away from him, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“Everything okay?” Pau’s voice breaks through her thoughts. He’s looking at her now, his phone forgotten.
“Yeah, fine,” she replies, though she knows it’s far from the truth.
But Pau isn’t convinced. He sets his phone aside and moves closer to her. “You sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” y/n attempts a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“You’ve just been… different lately.” she whispered
“Different?” His brows furrow, genuinely confused.
“Yeah,” she sighs, looking down at her hands. “Like, distant. I don’t know, maybe I’m just overthinking it.”
Pau tilts her chin up so she's forced to meet his gaze. “Hey, talk to me.”
The concern in his eyes almost makes her crumble, but she's held it in this long, and she's not sure how to let it all out without breaking completely.
“I just…” she takes a deep breath. “I’ve been scared, Pau. That this, whatever we have, doesn’t mean as much to you as it does to me.”
His eyes widen slightly, as if her words have hit him harder than she intended. For a moment, the room is silent, save for the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.
Finally, Pau takes her hands in his. “I had no idea you felt that way.”
“Well, I do.” her voice is softer now, almost fragile. “And it’s terrifying.”
Pau’s grip tightens on y/n's hands. “I’ve been distant because… because I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I’m scared too.”
y/n blinks, unsure if she heard him right. “Scared? Of what?”
“Of messing this up. Of losing you,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “But not because I don’t care. Because I do. More than I thought possible.”
y/n's breath catches in her throat, his words slowly sinking in. “You do?”
Pau nods, his green eyes sincere. “I’ve been falling for you, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I thought maybe if I distanced myself, it would be easier… but it’s not. It’s impossible, actually.”
A tear slips down her cheek, but this time, it’s not from sadness or fear. It’s from the overwhelming relief of hearing the words she's longed for.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t important to me,” Pau continues, brushing the tear away with his thumb. “But I need you to know that you are. You always have been.”
y/n lets out a shaky breath, her heart swelling with emotion. “I’ve been falling for you too, Pau. And I’ve been so scared of losing you because of it.”
He smiles softly, the kind that makes her heart flutter. “You’re not going to lose me. Not now, not ever.”
And then, without another word, he leans in, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that feels different from all the others. This one isn’t rushed or uncertain—it’s tender, filled with all the hidden feelings that have been building between the two.
When they finally pull away, he rests his forehead against hers, his arms wrapping around her body in a way that makes her feel safe, secure.
“We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs. “Together.”
“Together,” she echoes, a smile tugging at her lips.
For the first time in weeks, the weight on her chest lifts, replaced by a warmth that spreads through her as Pau holds her close. The fear, the insecurities—they’re still there, but now, they’re overshadowed by something stronger, something real.
And in that moment, she knows that whatever comes next, they’ll face it together.
#football#football x reader#football blurb#football imagine#football one shot#footballer imagine#barcelona#fc barça#fc barcelona#fc barca#pau cubarsi one shot#pau cubarsi x y/n#pau caubarsi imagine#pau cubarsi x reader#pau cubarsi imagine#pau cubarsi x you#pau cubarsi fic#pau cubarsi flulff#pau cubarsi
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First I wanted to say hello and tell you that I love your works. They really have me on the edge of my seat every time I read them.
Second. Can you imagine that Merlin, in some new alternative universe, for some reason, upon arriving in Camelot, arrives with a baby? It's all still a Merthur ending, it should be noted.
Like, we know that Merlin was already a bit of an outcast in the village for the reason that nobody knew who his father was and even more so because strange things were always happening around him.
The situation gets much worse when he finds a crying baby in the middle of a burnt tent near the village.
Will and his mother try to help him for a while, but with the visits of the evildoers to the village becoming more and more frequent, Merlin and the baby have no choice but to go to Camelot.
And so the adventures begin!
Only now Arthur wonders if they can make crowns for babies, because he is willing to marry Merlin and legally adopt the baby as his own.
And Morgana… well, she and Gwen enjoy dressing up the baby in all the clothes from her old dolls. Not to mention that she notices that by taking naps with the baby she no longer has nightmares.
The knights become, in some way or another, glorified nannies. The servants and maids must chase after a baby who never stops causing mischief in the castle.
And Merlin just wants to survive colic season and potty train his baby… and everything would be easier if there weren't a murderer or a resentful wizard trying to kill Arthur every 3 minutes.
First, thank you so much for the compliments! 🥹🤧❤️
About the concept. I love it! I don't think going to Camelot to live would be Merlin or Hunith's first option for a baby that can't control their magic at all. So I firmly believe Hunith would send Merlin with the baby there so Gaius can take them to a druid camp so they could take refuge there.
The problem is, before Gaius can do so, Merlin is made the prince's personal manservant. Merlin can't exactly deny the king and he does need the money to take care of his baby so he decides to stay to Gaius dismay. Gaius and Merlin try to keep the baby hided at first so they take turns taking care of her (in my mind is a her) in Gaius' tower in secret. It works out for some weeks but then the plague (Nimueh's Afanc) happens and Arthur searches Gaius' tower.
Arthur: (enters Merlin's room) Merlin: (running inside) Arthur, wait! Baby: (sitting on the bed, looks up at Arthur and gives a cute giggle) Arthur: (Turns to Merlin slowly) Merlin? Merlin: Yeah? 😅 Arthur: Why is there a baby in your bed? Merlin: (in panic, shouts the first thing that comes to his mind) She is mine! Arthur: ... Arthur: What? 😧 Merlin: (repeats more quietly but more firmly) She is mine. (runs to hold her up and embraces her) She is my daugther. Arthur: (thinking) But... but he is so young. (says) Where's the mother? Merlin: (with pain as he remembers the burnt tent) She passed away. Arthur: (his heart hurting for Merlin) I'm so sorry. But Gods Merlin, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have given you so many chores if I knew... (thinking) And I almost sacked you. I almost sacked a single father with a baby in arms! (says) And why the hell are you hiding her? Merlin: I... wasn't sure if I could keep her. Arthur: Of course you can keep her! What kind of master do you think I am? Knight x: (from outside) Sire? Arthur: (shouts back) In a minute! (to Merlin) What's her name? Merlin: Brigitta. Arthur: (repeats softly and smiles) Brigitta.
From then on, Arthur doesn't give Merlin as many chores and raises his salary considerably. And then everybody else finds out about Briggitta and go "I've only met Brigitta for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself".
Some events would change, obviously, and some would remain the same but with a new perspective. I don't think Merlin would have time to make Lancelot a fake seal, for example, having to look after Brigitta and all. I can imagine Lancelot becoming Brigitta's first unnofficial babysiter, then Arthur makes it official so poor Lancelot has a salary and a place to stay in Camelot. The Poisoned Chalice episode would remain the same, except Arthur would be more in panic mode and desperate because MERLIN HAS A DAUGHTER! BRIGITTA CAN'T LOSE HER FATHER TOO!
I think it would be The Beginning of the End where Arthur and Morgana find out about Brigitta's magic and Merlin's magic. Not because they discovered her, surprisingly, but Merlin decided to tell them all the truth about her and himself after seeing how they saved Mordred. Also, since Merlin saw Brigitta's possible future in Mordred, he wants to leave Camelot too to keep her safe. Screw all what the dragon told him about destiny, his daugther comes first.
So Merlin and Brigitta are about to leave with Mordred with the druids. They are having a heartfelt goodbye with Arthur, who scorted them there, but then...
Brigitta: (cries very loudly in Merlin's arms and the earth starts shaking a bit) Merlin: I know, I know, baby, but we have to go. Brigitta: (cries more loudly and extends her little arms to Arthur) Arthur: (barely containing his tears) I'll miss you too, Biddy. But this is the best for you- Brigitta: ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (open his eyes wide) What did she just said? Brigitta: (still crying and making grabby hands at him) ATHU, ATHU, ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes) She said my name... Merlin, she said my name! (grinning widely) Let me hold her one more time, please! Merlin: (gives Brigitta to Arthur) Druid leader: (urgently) We need to leave now! Merlin: (looking at Arthur and Brigitta tenderly and smiles) Leave, we'll stay.
I also can imagine Nimueh going after Brigitta's life instead of Hunith, and having to confront not only a very furious Merlin, but a feral protective prince.
That's how far my imagination can go. If you have any ideas of how Merlin and Arthur or other character would act in other episodes now with Brigitta in the equation, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be happy to read you 🥰
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old ties, new beginnings [ch.2]
Thomas Hewitt x f!reader: ch1 // ch3
TLDR: By chance, Thomas encounters someone from his past and gets to be treated like a normal guy for an afternoon–except he doesn't want the treatment to stop. [pt.2]
WORD COUNT: 1.9k
CW: mention of past trauma/abuse, slight nudity
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
“I’m really glad you remember me...”
She was sitting with her legs sprawled out in front of her while she leaned back onto her hands, staring out over the lake-top as the warm breeze gently weaved through her hair. The lake was practically still, save for a few ducks that had flown down; she watched as they preened their feathers and dove for fish.
Thomas gave a low hum to let her know he had heard her; he was sitting cross-legged a meter or so behind her, pulling at the grass around him. The ever looming thought of what he’d have to do made him nervous. A part of him hoped you’d excuse yourself right now and leave; Hoyt would find you—take you back to the house and you’d just be cattle again. It would be easier that way. He could put on his face and you’d never know it was him…your dying thoughts wouldn’t be hate for him. The image of you dying caused a pain in his chest; the pain only worsened when the thought of you calling out for him, begging him to save you flooded his mind. Would your final words be his name on your tongue? To his horror, the idea excited him. You had been nothing but compassionate towards him–a beacon of warmth when all anyone else had done was treat him like an animal, a beast. And here he was, daydreaming about slaughtering you.
With a slight groan you pulled your stiff legs to your chest, snuggly wrapping your arms around them with a satisfied purr. His shirt rode up your thighs and rested around your hips, slightly exposing your bottom; with a grunt he darted his eyes away from your flesh. He didn’t deserve to look at you in such a way–not when he was going to be the one to wipe you from this earth. His fists clenched at the dead grass as the situation weighed on him; he didn’t want to do it. He really didn’t. He wanted to stay in this moment forever–wanted to live in a time where you wanted his company, content to sit in his presence without fear or judgment. In this moment you were alive. Alive with him.
He looked to the sky, to whatever god Mama had long since given up on getting him to pray to, for an answer. No one else had ever done the things you had done and it had to mean something. It had to.
It had been him to stumble upon you, no one else, like you were a gift left by the heavens waiting just for him. His. Straightening his back and releasing his grip on the grass, the thought dawned on him. You could be his. Everyone else seemed to have their own company–be it sisters, pets, or working girls–so why couldn’t he? He could be good to you: he would treat you much better than a pet and substantially better than the way Hoyt treated his guests.
He’d take care of all your needs–you’d be his responsibility, he was the one inaugurating you after all. You’d be well fed, he wouldn’t rest until you had a full stomach every night; you’d never get bored, sitting in with Mama and his aunt on their lunchins or more realistically tending to your own chores around the homestead; and though he, himself, didn’t really care for bathing, he figured a respectable woman such as yourself would, so he’d make sure you had every opportunity to stay clean; the house had many rooms but most of them were filled with clutter so you’d have to wait a bit before getting your own room. He pondered for a moment, thinking about what room would suit you best; he liked the idea of you having one of the rooms with the fancy windows that Mama once cherished. In the meantime, you’d have to stay in his room…have to share a bed with him too. His fingers twitched at the thought of sleeping next to you. He had to physically shake his head, when the thought of you waiting-up for him at night after a hard day's work–unable to sleep without him crept into his head; he couldn’t get distracted by such thoughts, there was still so much left to work-out.
You had sealed your fate upon entering the town’s border; in his heart-of-hearts, Thomas knew this was the only way to keep you alive and that’s all he wanted; that’s all that mattered. You’d definitely need some adjusting to their way of life–you were a saint but he knew not even you could understand right away why they needed to do the things they did, but you could learn. He’d keep you alive–even if it killed you.
The sound of a sniffle pulled him from his plotting.
You had hidden your face in the crook of your arms that now rested atop your knees, while he had thought out his plan. Oh no. What had he done? Did you finally realize how disgusting he was and were mortified to be with him? Had you said something personal and he had ignored you–too caught up in his own world? How could he be so selfish! He let out a whine as his thoughts ran wild with possibilities of what he could’ve done to upset you. It felt as though his very world was crumbling around him–keeping you needed the foundation of you not despising him.
“I’m sorry…” you huffed out, raising your head to wipe at your eyes, “I’m just…I’m sorry!” The tears began flowing freely despite your efforts to contain them. You felt pathetic for crying, you had nothing to cry about when it was Thomas who had been the victim.
“They were so c-cruel to you-ou,” you hiccuped through sobs, “and I did noth-hing!”
For years you had watched as they had treated him less-than the dirt beneath their feet and you had been too much of a coward to even defend him. To even console him. Having only been a child did little to console you: even at such a young age, you knew what they were doing was wrong and you still chose to turn a blind eye. You were no better than any of the other children who had run away from him or the townspeople who had mistreated him; you knew you deserved whatever punishment they had coming. Had he not only been just a child, as well? How was it fair for him to be treated like a walking-disease, merely for being different, while other children got to live normal lives at no cost at all. It was maddening and the guilt for not having done anything to prevent his abuse or ease it was tearing you apart.
“Oh Thomas, I’m so sorry! You didn’t deserve-”
The words died in your throat as the sound of settling grass alerted you of his presence. He was kneeling next to you now, holding out an uncertain hand mere centimeters away from your face. His hand was formed as though he was intending to cup your face but wanted permission. His stormy eyes couldn’t keep yours as he shifted his gaze around nervously. How could he be so considerate towards you? He should hate your very being. You wanted to turn your head away from him, you didn't deserve his comfort. He should just leave you to rot! But you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away; choking back a sob, you leaned into his touch–allowing him to bring you solace. He wasted no time in sweeping your guilty tears away with the pad of his thumb and gently massaging at your temple. His tender care only made you want to cry more.
Thomas couldn’t help but admire how bewitching you looked while you cried softly against his hand: wet eyelashes pressed against puffy-flushed cheeks and cherry-red lips turned into a soft pout. And when your eyes opened, to peer into his own–he hated to think it but you truly did look pitiful. Looking up at him like he was the only thing that could soothe your pain. The tight feeling in his chest returned. He didn’t care about the past, or rather he didn’t care about what you didn’t do in the past. He knew what you did do and that was enough for him. Everyone else’s actions had nothing to do with you so how could he fault you, the only person to ever treat him like he was worthy of some human decency? He had grown accustomed to the insults and the physical tormenting stopped when he hit his growth spurt; those that continued to pester him after which were no more significant than gnats buzzing in his ear. Even now when unruly cattle would hurl insults at him, he knew it was all meaningless. At the end of the day they were still just that–cattle. To Thomas, you had done nothing wrong and there was no need for you to apologize–it only crushed him to see you so distraught over something you had no control over.
Overcome with emotion, he leaned closer to you and let out a whine into your hair.
The unexpected proximity was startling, Thomas had all but engulfed you into himself. Though you didn’t mind. He was warm and smelled of musk and something else you couldn’t quite place–it was almost metallic. The smell was comforting nonetheless. You leaned into him–absent mindlessly closing the small gap in between you–grazing your nose just under where his mask met his skin, trying to figure out what that smell was. The sudden contact must have startled Thomas as you felt him tense around you, but he made no move to remove himself from you.
“Is this ok?” you breathed out, not wanting to take advantage of his goodwill. You could feel the rumble in his throat and his hair tickle your face as he gave a singular-short nod.
With your new allowance, you leaned fully into him: tucking your arms in between you as you grasped at his stained-shirt, burrowing your face against his neck to ride out the remainder of your tears.
“I really am sorry…” you muttered against his skin, you could feel him shiver but you couldn’t bring yourself to move away. He was warm and the skin-contact was soothing. His breathing was heavy and you could feel another rumble pass through his throat as he just barely grazed against the now-dry shirt on your back–giving you time to push him away–before settling against you. You could feel as he moved to lean his own head against yours, his warm breath showered against your ear. You stifled another sob against him with a whine, this awkward side hug was far more than you deserved.
A fire burned in Thomas’s chest as he clutched you closer to himself. In this moment, with this small act, you had proven to him that he was correct: you were different and there was no doubt about it–you being brought back to him was so that he could make you his. And he would be damned if anyone tried to take you away from him.
The sun felt warm against your skin and the heat that Thomas expelled only heightened it, your earlier swimming and recent crying fit had finally worn you out. Your eyes fought against the pull of sleep, but ultimately the rise and fall of Thomas's chest against you lulled you into the unconscious abyss.
#thomas hewitt#my writing#im sorry this chapter is so short the rest got moved to ch3#slasher x reader#slashers#plus i just like how fluffy this chapter is alone#thomas hewitt x reader#leatherface x reader#thank you sm for the support on ch1 i love reading all the replies yall are so funny#texas chainsaw massacre
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Nanami has a breeding kink, and you literally can not convince me otherwise. How could he not when he has his adorable little college student under him. The bulge in her stomach from his cock is enough to have him bitting his lip and he almost came at the scream she let out when he roughly pushed his hand against her pelvis as his hips snap forward with an almost inhuman need to lodge his cock in her throat from her pussy. His little Miss is so stubborn. He offers to give her the easy life of being a stay at home wife, but she laughs it off, thinking he is joking. Kento would never joke about that, but it's alright. He'll show her. He would give her nutrient dense meals and start tracking her moods and cervical fluids. It's not hard when he is always stuffing his fingers into her tight heat, he'd know when to pin her down and stuff her with so much cum that even after he pulls out her tummy has a cute round little bulge, and then a few more times just to make sure it sticks.
3 weeks later, she is texting him to pick her up from school early. She is tired and nauseous, and maybe he is right, and the stress is getting to her. She doesn't have to worry, Nanami will take care of it all until she feels better. He knows that it will be 9 months until that happens, but she can figure that out on her own being completely dependent on him.
This man is feral when she starts to show. Her tiny body with a tiny little bump. He can pretty much engulf it with his hand, and it gets him hard every time. She is so much more sensitive and produces so much more wetness that, of course, he is gentle with her as she sobs about ruining her clothing with how easily she gets aroused now. If she just stays home, she doesn't need to worry about panties and pants. She can just wear one of his big shirts and ruin their sheets as she lays around in bed. She needs to save her energy for their growing baby, after all.
And when his little cupcake start lactating? Forget about it. His mouth is attached to her at all times in some way. Kisses? yes. Feasting off her sloppy cunt? Absolutely. Causing her to over produce even before that baby is here? He'd walk in to his sweet little wife rubbing her breasts and crying as they just leak everywhere and of course he is going to help her by draining her breasts dry as he bounces her on his cock and coos at how messy she is for leaking all over him now too.
-🐱
It's 3 in the morning! Time for a horny ramble!
WHEWWWWWW this was hot as hell. i needed to breathe a few times before responding. thank you 🐱 anon!! i feel like he's the type to always want her in his lap so that he can gently thrust into her (to dilate her walls even more for an easier birth of course! duh!!) as he sucks her puffy nipples into his mouth to let her have a practice of breastfeeding a dry run of sorts. he'll be so gentle, rubbing her clit so that she can relax and enjoy mind melting orgasms as a reward for being his perfect little housewife.
he'll be perfect at everything. appointments, nutrition, conditions of the body. and he definitely did not have to excuse himself mid appointment to tug one out when the doctor mistakes him as his little housewife's dad. and if reader is ever too tired to have sex, he'll grab her milk stained tops to hold to his nose as he strokes his cock outside. head thrown back and lips pressed together as his breathing gets heavier. he'll start stroking his cock with the shirt, cumming all over it do that now the top has twinning stains from the baby's mom and dad. how cute :(
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tw, sorry if this is a little sensitive but can you do one where sevika deals with a suicidal reader? I've been going thru alot recently and it would be nice to have a fic abt it ^^
TW mentions of SH and suicidal thoughts/attempts
Yes ofc, sorry if this is inaccurate to anyone, I'm drawing from my own experience here
"Oh honey, I..." Sevika looks down at your wrist. You cringe and look away, look anywhere, a pit in your stomach that deepens, seems to hollow out and drain you of your insides. "It's nothing, I'm fine," you attempt, but tears prick at your eyes before you can stop them. You can't retract your arm because Sevi's holding it there, her strength prevailing over yours. "It's not... baby did I do something?"
The question breaks you, has you crumpling to the ground. Of course she'd blame herself, everything's always her fault. She joins you on the floor, bundling you up in her arms. You feel tears fall onto the top of your head, her lips pressing kisses wherever she can manage. You can tell she's panicking, and it makes the hole in your stomach worsen.
"Can you tell me-"
"Can we not... can we not talk about it. Just this moment." You say weakly, your tears gathering on her shoulder. She huffs out a breath, tucking your head into her neck. "I'll make some tea. Go lay down baby."
*****
She flicks on the lights in the bedroom and sits at the foot of the bed, handing you a mug filled with your perfect brew. You smile at how well she knows you, the colour just right, the sweetness perfect.
"Tell me?" She tries, offering you a comforting smile.
"I just... I haven't been feeling right... again... and I'm... I just think, maybe.... you know... it'd be easier if I just... If I wasn't around." You say it so quietly, so slowly, you're unsure if you were even intelligible. She nods and sets your cups down onto the nightstand, gathering you up in her arms again like she has to prove to herself that you are, infact, still around. She stays like this for a while, swaying you gently, staring into space.
"Baby," she starts, her voice catching in her throat, "I can't lose you. Maybe that's the most selfish thing to say to someone who wants to... yeah, well, if my being selfish keeps you around then I'm going to be selfish. I need to hear that stupid laugh when I tell a dad joke that doesn't land with anyone but you. I need to smell burning in the morning of every valentines because you've attempted to cook. I need to feel obligated to take a picture of every cat I see on my way to and from work." She sighs and turns to look at you.
"I have lost so much fucking family," tears start to roll down her cheeks, "you and Vi are all I have. I will do anything to keep you with me. I don't care if I have to stay up 24 hours a day to ensure you're not hurting yourself. I don't care if I have to follow you around like your shadow. Baby, you can't leave me. You're the most precious thing I know."
You sob into her chest, body wracked with guilt that you've put her through this. "I'm sorry, Sevi honey I'm so sorry,"
"Don't apologise, don't you fucking dare apologise. I'm so proud of you for telling me honey, now I know, now we can get help can't we?" You nod against her and hold her closer. You know she won't make it all better, make it all go away, but you feel slightly more whole knowing she'll be there to lift you up, there to hold your hand.
If you're in the UK you can contact Switchboard to talk about these thoughts, they're an lgbtq+ charity so will suit your needs if that's what's brought on your feelings.
There are tons of places to call. And I know you feel alone, G-d do I know that feeling, but you aren't. You have people who care about you. You have one in me. G-d bless and stay safe sweetheart.
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Have you seen Peacock yet? In love with the idea of Yandere!John and Yandere!Emma keeping you as their pet. They both love you so much. Emma’s a softer yan but she still doesn’t want to let you go. 🥰🥰🥰
YES. YES. YES YE SYE SYES Y-
warnings: dark, implied/described noncon, kidnapping/captivity, yandere, housewife kink
You shivered slightly as Emma ran her hands over your hair, humming to herself. "Is the water too cold, sweetie?" she asked.
You didn't answer. It was a little tepid, but that wasn't why you shivered. She sighed a little as she ran her hand down your back, fingers ghosting over a bruise by your shoulder.
"He can be a little... rough, can't he?" she noticed, lowering her voice, and you still didn't respond, looking away from her even more as if the tile wall by the bathtub was suddenly fascinating to you. "Lean back, sweetie, so I can wash your hair."
You did as you were told, laying back to submerge the back of your head in the water; you kept your eyes open at first, but when she looked right at you with those dark brown eyes, you quickly shut your own.
Her hand scooped water over your hairline, carefully avoiding getting any in your eyes. You sighed as you felt her be so delicate with you... you only wish those hands had been so kind before. John didn't say anything when he fucked you; he just held you down, and left you in the bed alone when he was done. Emma came in after, seeming surprised and uncomfortable at the sight of you like that, before softly suggesting 'lets get you cleaned up, dear.'
She sat you back up carefully; at first, you were so unwillingly lost in your memories that you didn't notice her trying to prompt you to lift yourself again.
There was silence, spare the gentle sloshing of water around the tub, and Emma's quiet humming.
"Will you ever let me go?" you blurted out suddenly.
She stopped humming. She sighed a little. "He thinks you're safer here."
"But what do you think?"
She bit her lip, looking away demurely. "Well... I don't think that makes any difference, does it?"
You felt anxiousness stir in your gut as you thought of what you could say then, but feared it would get you in trouble. You couldn't really afford to keep any cards in your hand now, could you? "You could... you could tell him to let me go," you suggested hesitantly.
"Oh-- no, that's not an option," she insisted quickly. "It would be easier to help you adjust to living here now."
Your shoulders sank; realizing this route of conversation was useless, you mostly stopped listening and tried to just think of anything else.
"He's just trying to court you," she explained, "but he doesn't know how."
Not getting a response, she still went on, but moreso talking to herself.
"Maybe he just needs a little help..."
~
Don't be so nervous. She might like you if you give her a chance! -Emma
John looked at the note with a frown. He wasn't sure what to think of it. He really would've preferred that Emma stayed out of his romantic life, but he also couldn't deny that she probably had some advice he could use... a woman's perspective, that is. John really didn't know anything about women. Hence, keeping you here.
Stepping into the room, he winced a little when he saw you jump, obviously trying to hide how afraid you were of him. He couldn't blame you. But he couldn't help it, either.
For a long moment, you just looked at him; he suddenly realized it was bizarre that he hadn't said anything.
"You look pretty."
He found himself absent-mindedly rubbing his palms on his slacks. "Um... she picked out the dress for me..." you informed him.
"It's pretty. You look pretty," he said again.
You jolted slightly, again, when he stepped in, but he ignored it and walked to the record player. He turned it down-- way down-- and started a slow song quietly. He wasn't sure what he expected; he certainly imagined what might happen, that he might be able to dance with you, but he didn't expect it. You wouldn't want to--
"Do you want to dance?" you offered suddenly, making him whip his head around in surprise. You'd stepped closer to him but seemed to shy away when he looked at you-- he tried to soften his face.
"...do you?" he returned incredulously.
"I... I might," you shrugged, acting a little shy suddenly-- he thought it was rather adorable.
"Why?" he wondered bluntly.
"It sounds fun," you answered with a little smile, but then you glanced away and gave a second answer-- the more honest one, it seemed. "I... I want things to be different, with us."
He nodded. He did, too. He didn't like hurting you... he just didn't think he had any other choice.
"So, I thought... maybe we could dance!" you finished.
"Y-yes, um, sure," he agreed. "I haven't... danced in a long time..."
"That's alright," you assured sweetly, "I'll teach you."
He didn't completely trust your kindness, even if it made his cheeks burn a bit. You'd been so scared of him before, so empty behind the eyes when he forced you onto the bed--
"Can you waltz?" you asked.
"U-um--"
"We can do something easier," you decided quickly instead, motioning for him to come a little closer. Nervously, but obediently, he did.
He carefully took your waist, sighing harder through his nose than he meant to-- he didn't want you to know how nervous he was.
But he probably gave it away when you reached up and held his shoulders, and he looked at you with wide eyes.
Then, you started to sway together-- slowly, in time with the music. He couldn't look away from you, even when he realized that you were looking away out of awkward discomfort. You just looked so beautiful like this, and holding you in his arms just felt so right. He held his breath when you leaned in and laid your head on his chest, as if one wrong move would scare you off.
He thought about asking you why you were doing this. He thought about telling you that he knew all along you were made for him-- that you would be happy here, if you let yourself accept it. He thought about just grabbing you and pulling you closer, desperate to feel your body against his own. But he was too scared: he didn't do anything, not until you told him to.
You looked up at him suddenly, with wide and pleading eyes. "You can kiss me, John," you whispered.
What could he possibly say to that? Thankfully, he got the sense that he didn't really need to say anything... he could just kiss you, apparently, so he did. He wasn't really sure if he was doing it right-- but it felt right, pressing his lips to yours softly. You were so sweet and delicate... he melted a little, right then, knowing more than ever that he made the right choice bringing you here. His heart was pounding and his mind was swarming with the overwhelming obsession with you that he could hardly believe he'd once tried to fight.
You started to pull away, but his desperation took over-- he grabbed your face and kissed you harder, following you when you stepped back until you stumbled into the dresser and he had to catch you. "John, wait--" you mumbled.
"Don't wanna wait," he groaned in reply. "I waited so long for you already--"
Still, you pushed him back at the shoulders, and he quickly wiped his mouth as he broke away from you. "I'm sorry," you said right away, "it's not-- it's not that I don't want you to... I just wanted to talk to you first."
"Oh... okay," he mumbled, feeling more confused than ever. What was there to talk about?
"I... I think you're very sweet," you told him, "and I always thought that-- it's why I came to the bank so much, you know. To see you."
He smiled a little. He'd always suspected that, but never let himself truly believe it. A girl like you would never go for a guy like him... or he wouldn't have had to do this.
"But it's just... it's not practical, is it?" you said. "The way you went about it--"
"I-I just need you too much," he tried to defend.
"No, I understand," you promised with a sigh, "and I'm not angry. But... I think maybe... it might be better if you let me--"
"No."
You whined a little. "You didn't even hear what I wanted--"
"I don't need to. You want to leave," he accused. "And I won't let you."
"John, you can't do this. You can't keep me here forever!" you yelped.
"You say you want things to be different with us, then you say that," he sneered. "You want to make me angry, don't you?"
"No, John," you denied quickly, but he was already stepping closer, backing you into a corner. "John, please--"
"You want me to be like this!" he continued regardless. "You're trying to make me angry!"
You shook your head, eyes welling as he pushed you back.
"You know you can't leave. You know I can't let you leave," he growled, grabbing you hard as you whined and tried weakly to fight him. His chest swelled with an addictive sort of rage... no, he didn't want to hurt you, but something made him feel sickly proud when he did, because he could. "You belong to me now. Nothing's ever gonna change that."
"Please," you sobbed weakly, hiding your face in your hands-- but he pulled them away and pinned them back, pressing himself to you until you looked up at him fearfully.
"I'm never letting you leave this house," he assured, "you'll be lucky if I let you leave that bed again."
You had barely even opened your mouth to protest when he wrapped his hand around your neck, choking your cries into silence.
"Not another word, Mrs. Skillpa," he whispered sharply. "This is my house-- and I own everything in it. I'm in charge here, understand?"
#john skillpa x reader#emma skillpa x reader#john skillpa dark fic#emma skillpa dark fic#cillian murphy x reader
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Camp Wiegman - Part 1
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
Alternate Universe : Military School
Summary : Ona has to leave Barcelona against her will because her mother decided to sent her to a school in Manchester.
Words : 4k
Masterlist
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Monday, October 5; 6:45 AM - Home.
« Get up, Onii!!! »
I jump when a little bundle pounces on me, screaming. I groan into my pillow as he laughs in my ears before getting off my back. I turn over as quickly as possible to catch him before he runs away. The surprise rings in my ears even before his shrill scream, but I don't let go of him.
« Joan... » I begin in the calmest voice I can manage. « How many times have I asked you not to wake me up like this? »
« Mmmmmh... »he pretends to think. « I don't remember! »
« You'll see! »
A mix of cries and laughter fills the room as I attack him with tickles along her ribs. He tries to struggle, but I'm far too strong for him.
« St-stop », he says between laughs. « P-Please... Oniii! »
« Ona, let go of your little brother. He'll be late otherwise! » my mother reprimands me as she passes by my bedroom door.
« You're lucky this time! »
I release him and get out of bed to go to my closet. I sigh when I see that a large number of clothes are missing.
« Are you taking me to school this morning? »
I turn around to see my little brother watching me from the edge of the bed where he's sitting. He's so innocent. He makes me want to go back to when I was his age. Everything was simpler. It's rather ironic, considering he keeps telling me he wishes he were as big as I am. My many discussions about my departure don't seem to have sunk in, given his question. I'm afraid he'll hold it against me over time, as this isn't the first time I've left home. I approach him, crouching down to his level. His doe eyes and sad expression don't make it any easier to say what I need to, but I go ahead anyway.
« Joan... » We've already talked about this. You know it's not possible.
« But I don't want you to leave! » he raises his voice. « You just got back... »
I tense up when he lowers his head to hide his sorrow from me. I feel so guilty for causing him so much pain. He doesn't deserve to be caught up in all this mess. I gently stroke his cheek to encourage him to lift his head.
He makes a pout that could melt anyone's heart, mine first and foremost.
« I'm sorry, little heart... I'm really sorry for putting you through all this. You know that if I could stay, I would. You know that, right? »
« I don't want you to leave! » he shouts again. « Stay, please. »
Now he's crying, which only makes me feel worse. His tears bring tears to my own eyes. I hold him as tightly as I can and stroke his hair to soothe his sadness.
Joan is undeniably my weakness in all this. I feel so guilty about leaving again. I have to stay strong and hide my feelings to avoid making his reaction worse. If it were up to me, I would stay. I resent my mother for sending me to that damn school thousands of miles away. It cuts me off from the few loved ones I have left.
« When will you come back? »
« I have no idea », I shrug. « We'll see. Anyway, I'll call you regularly. »
« Promise? »
« Of course, if I'm allowed to, I will. »
« Is it very strict there? »
If there's one thing I don't like about kids, it's their curiosity. They just keep asking questions and can ask the same one ten times to get an answer. It's not so bad, but in my situation, it's annoying because I don't have the answers myself. He just reminds me why I've been stressed all week since the news broke.
« Well, you know what? » I change the subject. « If we hurry, I'll try to negotiate with Mom to take you to school before I leave. »
« Really? » He smiles with all his teeth.
« Of course! I just have to make sure I don't miss my flight. If we leave a bit earlier, I can drop you off before going to the airport. »
« YAY! »
I laugh at his excitement. I help him get dressed so he can quickly head downstairs. His departure allows me to clean up his mess and get myself ready more peacefully. Fifteen minutes later, I join him downstairs.
Dressed and with makeup on. I find him in the large dining room talking with his father and our mother. I don't bother to stop and head straight to the kitchen. I sit on a high chair behind the bar that faces the kitchen. I smile when I see a cup of hot chocolate and a freshly prepared pastry waiting for me.
« Good morning, Sam. »
« Oh, hi Ona. »
He moves to the counter so we can be face-to-face and chat while I enjoy my breakfast. I've had this habit since... well, since he started working here, to be honest. Samuel has been our cook for a few years now. We're almost the same age, give or take five years. His dishes are truly outstanding. I'll really miss them. They say the food in boarding schools isn't very good.
« So, you'll take me to school then? »
« What's this about now? » asks my mother, entering the room with Joan.
« I told him I'd drop him off if we leave a bit earlier. »
« Did you really have to tell him that? » she snaps.
« It's the last time I'll see him for a long time, you could make an effort. »
I maintain my gaze firmly. She eventually capitulates with a sigh. I suppress a smile that could change her mind. I always win when it comes to staring contests. I'm proud to have irritated her, but even more proud to have won.
« Fine, hurry up then. »
« Yay! »
My brother knows how to lighten the mood. I take a sip from my cup to hide my amusement as he dashes out of the kitchen, with my mother chasing after him, yelling to be careful on the stairs.
« Tough leaving, huh? » asks Sam.
« Not really. The hardest part is leaving Joan. Take care of him for me, please. »
« Don't worry about that. He'll be fine, unlike you », he says through gritted teeth.
« I'll be fine too », I assure him.
« I hope so. It would be nice to see you alive again », he jokes.
I roll my eyes with a smirk. We've always had a good relationship. At first, I even thought he had a thing for me. I realized it was a mistake later when I found out he was dating this guy named Paolo. I had a good laugh. As a lesbian I was surprised that Samuel was gay too.
« Shall we go, Oni ? »
I turn to Joan, who has returned with his backpack on. The time for goodbyes has come. I smile at my brother and get up to put my empty cup in the sink. Then, I walk over to Sam and give him a tight hug.
"It's all going to be okay, you'll see," he reassures me.
"I'll try to call. Can you put Joan on when you get the chance?" I ask.
"Promise. I really hate goodbyes," he adds, pulling me back into his embrace.
I laugh, playfully tapping his shoulder when I notice his teary eyes. It's touching since I've never seen him cry. I leave before I end up in the same state. I miss Sofia, my governess, who has a day off today. I said goodbye to her yesterday, but it's not the same. She's a bit like my second mom. She always knew how to lend a listening ear when I needed it. I go up to my room to check that I haven't forgotten anything. I also stop by the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I'm sure everything's in order, I put on my jacket, grab my bag, and take one last look at my room. It's time to leave if I want to take Joan to school, so I head down the stairs without rushing.
Hector has put your suitcase in the trunk," my mother informs me as she waits. "Do you have your ticket? »
"Yeah," I reply, patting my pockets to double-check.
"A taxi will drop you off at the school."
I half-listen to my mother's final instructions about my arrival at my new life. I look up when I realize she's wrapping up her verbose explanations, which I could have done without.
"Are you going to be okay?" she finally asks.
« Does it really matter to you?" I retort rhetorically, brushing past her to reach the entrance. She sighs behind me as I open the door. It's all her fault anyway. I look at the cobblestone driveway where the car is already prepared with Joan inside. I greet Hector, our driver, who is standing nearby. I descend the stairs and glance to my left at our garden where Marcus is. I give him a small nod. Asshole. He's my mother's boyfriend. He's not entirely to blame, but I've never been able to like him. I avoid looking back at the landing where my mother might play the model mom, waving me off as if I'm going on vacation. I've never liked formalities, so I head to the front seat of the car. Hector has long stopped making remarks about it. He settles in beside me and pulls into traffic once the gate opens. I watch the house recede in the rearview mirror. Here we go... We're on our way. Before starting my new life, we make a stop at Joan's school. Hector wishes him a good day as I step out to walk him to the gate. The hardest moment arrives... I crouch down to his level. He immediately wraps his little arms around me for a hug.
"I don't want you to go," he says softly.
"Look at me, Joan," I ask gently, lifting his chin. "It's going to be okay, alright? I'll come back, don't worry."
"Will you think about me a lot?"
"I'll do nothing else."
"Will you call me?"
"If I'm allowed, I will. I promised you, little one," I say, touching his nose with my finger. "Sam and Sofia will pass you the phone if it's me."
"I'll miss you."
He hugs me again, and I squeeze him as tightly as I can. I kiss his forehead before helping him with his backpack.
"I love you, Ona!"
"I love you too, sweetheart! Now, go play with your friends."
He runs off to join them. I wait until he looks back to wave at him with a smile. I make sure not to show any emotion so that at least one of us is reassured. I turn around when I'm no longer the center of his attention and settle back into the car. Hector starts driving towards the airport without saying a word. Everyone knows these are the toughest goodbyes for me.
"Are you okay?" he asks, handing me a tissue.
I hadn't even realized I was crying. I nod and smile gratefully as I take the tissue. The journey lasts half an hour to reach the airport. I have plenty of time to check in my luggage and go through security before the flight. Hector insisted on accompanying me the whole way, despite my repeated assurances that he didn't need to stay, though I appreciate his presence. Boarding time arrives quickly, and we head there after passing all the checks.
"We'll take care of Joan, don't worry," he tries to reassure me.
"Thank you."
"He's a big boy now, you know."
"Yes, he's grown up so much," I reply with a faint smile.
The intercom interrupts, announcing the boarding call. I turn to my driver, whom I've always appreciated. He's in his forties, but we've always had a special bond. He smiles tenderly, and we share a hug. I take the opportunity to thank him for everything before joining the line that has formed. I teased Sam about his state earlier, but I'm not much better at the moment. At the end of the line, I present my ticket to a hostess who tears off a portion. A security guard beside her checks my navy blue Eastpack once more, then they wish me a safe journey... "Safe journey," my ass, yeah. I move forward without a word for boarding. A second hostess welcomes me onto the plane and helps me find my seat number. Luck seems to be on my side for once. I have a window seat, and my neighbor who arrives shortly after me is an elderly lady. I'll have peace and quiet for the entire journey. I switch my phone to airplane mode. I put my headphone on. Music will help me sleep since I have two hours to kill. I start my music just as the intercom instructs us to fasten our seatbelts because takeoff is imminent. Indeed, a few minutes later, we're airborne. I watch our ascent through the window with a thoughtful expression. "Hasta la vista Barcelona... Hello Manchester !"
Monday, October 5th; 10:25 - Manchester Airport.
Damn it... Not only did I forget about the time difference, but I also forgot about the temperature change here! I'm finally in my taxi after taking some time to find my driver with his tiny sign. We're now stuck in monstrous traffic. The scenery is different from Barcelona. I'm going to miss my city more than I thought. I put my headphones back on just as my driver announced that we still have a way to go. He explained that the school is located away from the city center, but right now, we're stuck in the middle of it. We just need to manage to get out. Given the traffic jams, I have more time ahead of me. I could have done without it, considering how my imagination has come back in full force. I know nothing about the school she's sending me to. As if what I went through wasn't enough. Something like this had to happen to me again.
I hate having to listen to my mother and do everything she says. I'll be twenty in a few days and I still have to do as she pleases. If I hadn't messed up, I might already have a job by now. Now, here I am stuck on the other side of the Europe, with no one. Thanks, Mom, thanks a lot! My stress level shoots up again, though it had subsided thanks to my nap on the plane. I managed to catch up on my sleep. Nothing can change now. I'm here, and it will be difficult to turn back. The driver tries to make conversation, but he understands it's a lost cause. I can be a real wall when I want to be. He seems relieved to have finally arrived after forty-five minutes on the road. We would have certainly taken less time without the traffic jams. I get out of the car while the driver takes care of my suitcase. There are no buildings here, just a few houses around and even then. I didn't see any bus stops either, which I don't like too much.
The driver told me it was impossible for him to go any further. I understand why now, seeing what's in front of me. A huge, very impressive metal gate blocks the road. OK, what is this place? It's surrounded by an impenetrable high brown stone wall. It might have had its charm in another context. I feel like I'm standing in front of a prison entrance. I read the sign proudly standing above the gate: Camp Wiegman. What the hell is this mess? A camp? I wanted to ask the driver if he had the wrong place, but he was already gone. What an asshole! He better hope I don't run into him again next time! I groan in frustration and resign myself to dragging my feet and my suitcase towards the reception. A woman in her fifties is there, with glasses dangling on her nose. She looks up and smiles warmly at me. At least I'm not dealing with an old hag.
"Hello. You must be the new one, right?"
"I guess. Ona Batlle," I introduced myself.
"That's right," she said, looking at a sheet. "Come in, I'll notify them of your arrival!"
A door next to the large gray gate opens. I push it and roll my suitcase inside. Surprisingly, the taxi wasn't wrong after all. This place is huge from what I can see. I don't know where to look, it's quite... breathtaking. I don't dare move, not knowing where to go. The door is now closed behind me, preventing me from getting out. I wait a few minutes, and still, no one comes. The receptionist smiles at me every time I look at her. I guess someone will come to get me.
"Welcome to Camp Wiegman, Ona!"
I jump and turn toward the voice. A blonde woman stands before me. She has glasses and smile at me. I frown as I shake the hand she offers me. The only question that comes to mind is: Who is she?She must have understood.
"Excuse me, I haven't introduced myself! I’m Marina Wiegman, the director of this camp."
"Why does that name sound familiar?"
"I'm a friend of your parents" he explains.
"Oh."
I can't manage to say anything else. They've put me in a damn camp run by their friend. Great! This is getting worse and worse! This whole situation reeks of trouble.
"Follow me, I'll give you a quick tour of the place."
She orders me to leave my luggage, saying someone will take care of it. So, I leave my suitcase but keep my backpack. We walk down the large tree-lined avenue. It looks like a beautiful place... until you see what's hidden inside. I wasn't wrong. This place is gigantic! I can't see the end because of the buildings in front of us, but the horizon is already impressive. We take a left where I can see two fields in the distance surrounded by perfectly maintained grass. As we get closer, I spot a macadam field and a grass field, both fenced. Next to that, there’s a huge brand-new gymnasium. We don't go inside, but she indicates there are several rooms that I'll discover over time. We continue the tour in the first building on the left. It’s attached to the central building. This one houses the various classrooms, according to her. There’s another similar building just behind, connected by covered walkways. They don't seem big, only having one small floor each. One thing is for sure, the decoration is far from warm. Everything is as cold as the weather outside. It's raining, by the way. I already miss the sun I left behind in Barcelona. All the buildings are made of gray bricks. The only place that seems less gloomy is the new gymnasium. We exit through the back of the second building after a short passage and continue to the right. We pass the cafeteria, then the dormitories which are at the other end. She indicates that the staff dormitory is behind the student one. We complete our loop by returning to the central building. It’s the heart of the place and houses the administration. It looks very large. The upper floor must be her personal quarters. We continue inside where we are greeted by a hall before accessing the offices. We pass through a door with a sign indicating the secretariat. We walk down a long corridor with several doors labeled with names, most of them closed. We finally reach her office at the end. She invites me to sit on a chair, which I do without hesitation.
"I'm sorry I could only stop by briefly, but work keeps me very busy."
"No problem."
"Alright, let's get to the point. Did your mother explain anything to you?"
"Not really," I replied honestly. "Just that I'd be here for a long time."
"I see," she said. "I've been informed about your issues. Do I have your permission to share this information with the staff?"
"I'd prefer you didn't."
"As you wish. Do you know it's usually hard to get into this kind of camp?"
"Believe me, if I could have avoided it, I wouldn't be here," I retorted.
"Many applications were rejected this year. I shouldn't even be taking on another person in the middle of the year. You should see this as an opportunity! Your mother contacted me. I owed her a favor, so I reconsidered your application after someone left."
"I could have done without it," I muttered.
"We are a strict establishment," she continued, ignoring my comment. "We have clear rules that must not be broken under penalty of sanctions."
"Hmm."
"We are a half-university, half-military camp."
I sat up straight. Did I hear that correctly?! Military? This has to be a joke! She frowned as I laughed.
"What's so funny, Ona?"
"Military, seriously?" I laughed even harder.
"Military, indeed," she confirmed. "Well, it's a big word. You simply have the right to supervision and guidance by instructors alongside your classes. We are a special private educational institution."
"Didn't see that coming."
I hate her. There's no other word. Sending me to a place like this?! Does she want to turn me into a little soldier or what? If she thinks I'm going to go along with this, she's dreaming! I can already tell I'm going to have fun driving them crazy. They'll get so fed up with me that they'll send me back themselves.
"Since you're just starting, you'll be under the responsibility of an instructor for a while," she informed me. "This person is the one you should listen to first. They will help you adapt, guide you, and discipline you if necessary."
"Yeah, yeah."
I couldn’t care less about what she has to say now. I've been tuning out since she mentioned it's a military school. I did catch that all devices are banned in the camp except in the rooms. Phones included. Great! Well, at least I can use it in the room I'll have the pleasure of sharing with a roommate. It won't change much; I'll act as if I'm alone. I don't plan on staying here, so I'll make sure not to get attached. The best thing would be to leave as quickly as I arrived. She finishes by giving me my class assignment. Wait, they have classes here?! Surprising for this kind of school. She hands me a paper with my schedule and the names of my teachers. I don't even bother to glance at it. I don't know anyone anyway. Wiegman's monologue is interrupted by a noise at the door. A young girl enters after getting permission. She introduce herself as Lotte Wubben-Moy the adoptive daughter of the director Wiegman.
"Lotte will show you to your room in the dormitory. Once again, welcome, Ona. I hope I won't have to see you in my office anytime soon!"
"Yeah, thanks."
I leave the office, ignoring the hand Lotte extends. I wait for her in the hallway while she quickly says goodbye to her mother and closes the door. She leads the way since I don't know the place well yet.
"Your name is Ona, right?"
"Yeah."
"Did you have a good trip?"
"Don't bother trying to make conversation"
Her face falls at my harsh and curt tone. At least she understands not to talk to me. I'm furious with my mother. How could she send me to a military camp! I can't swallow it. It doesn’t even make sense! I now understand why she didn't give me any information about where she was sending me. She just handed me a ticket and said I was leaving home. If I had known, I wouldn't have even gotten on that damned plane. Then again, maybe I would have. She didn't give me much choice. It was either this or she would cut me off and throw me out on the street. That was clear. I don’t know if she would have actually done it, but I didn’t want to take the risk.
We walk along the outside to reach the right side. We arrive at the dormitory I saw earlier. It's larger than the classroom building we visited before. It has three stories. We pass through wooden doors. I'm surprised by the interior. It's a bit cheerier than what I've seen so far since arriving. We're greeted in the hall by a large wooden staircase that leads in two opposite directions. We go up and take a right. Lotte explains that the dormitory is divided into two sections. We stop on the first floor where we reach a long corridor. There are two more floors, but they are for the first and second-year students. I'm surprised she still dares to talk to me after I so harshly rebuffed her. She stops her explanations when we stop in front of room 19. From what I've observed, the even-numbered rooms are on the right and the odd-numbered ones are opposite. She steps aside to let me enter first. The room is nothing special. It has the bare minimum. Two single beds dominate the middle of the room, each with a two-drawer nightstand next to it. A lamp and a clock radio sit on top. On the other side of the bed, two wardrobes face each other. The one at the far end is next to a window, the only source of natural light. Finally, there are two desks at the foot of each bed. There's just enough space to pass between each piece of furniture. I open the only other door next to the entrance to discover a bathroom that is also nothing special. Surprisingly, it’s rather modern. It has a shower, a small sink with an extended countertop, and a mirror above. There’s also a toilet and a laundry basket. I close the door and move into the room with white walls. There's no decoration, so it still feels rather cold, once again.
"Well, here you are," she breaks the silence. "Your suitcase is already here, as you can see. I'm going back to my room. If you need anything, come see me. I'm in room 3, first floor."
"I'll be fine, thanks."
She nods before closing the door behind her. I sigh, looking around the room. What am I doing here? I have to survive a year. A fucking year that I plan to cut short. They don’t know who I am, but they will soon. My name is going to be known to the staff very quickly. If I understood correctly, I'm free for the rest of the day. I pull out my iPod from my pocket and check my phone. I must have sent a message to my mother when I got off the plane. I'm relieved to see she hasn't replied. She would have faced my wrath, and this time, I’ll have trouble holding it back.
My suitcase is at the far end of the room, right under the window. I guess that’s my side. I check by opening the first wardrobe. I close it immediately upon finding it full and lie down on the bed at the back. I would have chosen this one if I had the choice. I like having the window on my side, even though I doubt it will be of much use given the weather outside. I grab my bag to get something to eat. I’m glad I thought to bring snacks. Given the time, I would have been starving until dinner since I didn't eat lunch. I then slip my headphones into my ears. I use this quiet time to gather myself, staring pensively at the ceiling. I still can’t believe where I am. A military camp. This is going to be interesting... depending on your point of view, of course!
#woso#lucy bronze#woso community#barca femeni#ona batlle#woso soccer#lionesses#sefutbol fem#ona batlle x lucy bronze#fiction#manchester united women
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I NEED A PLATONIC YANDERE MIGUEL O'HARA STORY WHERE SHE IS FRIENDS WITH MILES AND GWEN AND SHE IS ALSO SPIDER-MAN AND WHEN HE MEETS HER, HE THINKS OF HER AS A DAUGHTER AND FEELS THE NEED TO PROTECT HER FROM HARM BUT THE OTHER SPIDERMEN (Gwen, Miles, and Peter) SENSE HE'S UP TO NO GOOD AND TRY TO STOP HIM (it's totally okay if you choose not to write this)
Warning
You sat at the diner across from Peter and Miles with Gwen beside you.
"So, this Miguel guy is pretty scary, huh?" You muttered while you poked at the vanilla ice cream in front of you.
"Yeah, but just let us talk to him okay? And Miles do not say a word because he will punch you in the head again." Gwen said making you chuckle softly.
"Miguel always makes me feel like I need to exercise more. Even just standing next to the guy I feel fat." He muttered as the rest of you laughed.
You heard the door to the diner open and a tall man walked in, it felt like the entire room went cold when he walked in.
He saw the familiar spider people and walked over, Miles squished in beside me so Miguel could sit next to Peter.
"A diner? Really?" He grumbled, unamused as he looked at you.
"Who are you?" He grumbled as you looked back at him.
"Um, I'm Y/N." You replied as he studied you.
Everyone began to talk while you continued to eat, Miguel wouldn't stop glancing at you the whole time.
Eventually Gwen and Miles went to go home, you stayed back with Peter because you came from the same universe so he always made sure you got home safe.
Peter and Miguel dragged on about stuff you didn't care about. Miguel was now sitting next to you so he could face Peter.
You were exhausted and slowly leant your head on Miguel's shoulder and closed your eyes.
After talking for even longer they realised you were asleep.
"What's her story?" Miguel asked, glancing down at your sleeping face.
"Bitten by a radioactive red-back, caused her to produce venom from her mouth and she accidentally killed her family." Peter replied as Miguel looked at him in shock.
"Who does she live with now?" Miguel asked looking back to Peter.
"She 19, she just lives on her own." Peter replied as Miguel thought for a little while.
"Anyway, I should be getting her back home." Peter said as they began to stand up.
"I can take her back, it's easier for me. You need to get back to your family." Miguel said as Peter looked at him and then you.
"Sure, but if anything happens to her Miles and Gwen will kill you." Peter replied before Miguel picked you up in his arms.
"Don't worry, she's in good hands." Miguel replied before Peter left.
Miguel looked down at your sleeping face and smiled softly.
You woke up when you felt a sudden rush of something, like a gust of wind.
Your senses were going wild before you opened your eyes to see Miguel above you.
"Where are we?" You muttered before he placed you down on your bed.
"We're at your apartment. It's a mess here." He muttered looking around as you glared at him.
"Rude... Being a hero doesn't exactly pay." You muttered climbing into your bed and under the covers.
"At least keep it a little tidy." He scolded as you looked up at him.
"Thank you for the ride, I'll see you later, Miguel." You tried as he chuckled a little.
"Goodnight, Y/N."
--
You woke up the next morning hearing someone in your kitchen.
You quickly leapt up ready for a fight before you saw it was Miguel.
"What the hell are you doing here?" You said in shock as he looked back at you.
"I'm making breakfast." He said casually as you continued to stare at him.
"Why are you saying it so casually! You're just in my apartment? I barely know you!" You scolded as he chuckled softly.
"All I found in your kitchen was old pop tarts. You think that's a good breakfast for a spider-girl like you?" He said as you watched him make banana pancakes.
They did look yummy.
"Spider-Woman, not girl." You corrected making him chuckle softly.
"You're still just a kid." He replied before you sat down and watched him cook.
"Well, since you already started cooking I won't stop you."
--
You had met up with Gwen and Miles again.
"He was just standing in your kitchen?" Miles muttered as you shrugged.
"Yeah... It was weird but the pancakes he made were really good." You replied as they looked at you with worry.
"Be careful with him, Y/N. When he loses his temper he can be a pretty scary guy..." Gwen said as you thought for a bit.
"I'll keep my guard up."
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Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.
Herding Cats
Day #23 - Up and Coming | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Talk of Previous Sex, Brief Teasing about Daddy Kink, Minor Appearance by Billy | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie, Platonic Stobin, Minor Others | Tags: Road Manager Steve Harrington, Having to Herd These Assholes, Like Cats, Famous Corroded Coffin, The Morning After a Show
1 Night, 4 Rooms The morning after. Is also standalone, but everything is is below.
Eddie | Goodie | Gareth | Jeff | Steve (Bonus morning after!)
Steve walks down the hotel hallway, knocking on each door of their block, giving them each a shave and a haircut, two bits so they know it's him, but that he doesn't need them to actually come to the door, just get up and at 'em if they aren't already.
There's a hotel security guard watching him work, which he's pretty sure they didn't request. For better or worse, they've got their own security now.
And speak of the devil, and the devil appears, walking towards him from the elevator is Billy, and Steve pulls the daily schedule from his binder, and hands it off as they pass each other. Not stopping, not saying a word. It's easier this way. They can work together, but decidedly apart.
In the private dining room, Steve does a loose headcount. Crew is all over, filling tables, and Eddie's sitting with Gareth and Di, his plate already piled high. Jeff's at the buffet now, but Goodie's nowhere to be seen.
Steve catches Billy's eye, taps his watch, holds up the number three, and rotates his hands in a well? motion.
Billy gives him the three back, then points upwards. Then switches his extended finger to his middle one, flipping Steve off. Fucker.
The baseball-style hand signals work well, but there are downsides, unfortunately. Steve's given them each a number: Eddie's one, Jeff's two, Goodie's three and Gareth's four.
And three's missing.
If Steve doesn't see him in ten minutes, he'll go do an in-person wake up call.
Still no Goodie.
Goddamnit.
Steve lets himself into room 1013, and Jesus Christ. It looks like a tornado hit it. The condom wrappers alone.
At least he was safe.
On the bed, Goodie is facedown, bare-assed. Scratches all up and down his back.
"Goods!" Steve yells, banging on the dresser with his fist.
Goodie jumps, startled awake.
"Morning, Casanova. Breakfast, ballroom seven," Steve says.
He's still not moving.
"Charles!" Steve yells, and Goodie growls in response. Steve'll pay for that later, but at least Goodie's responding.
"And put something on your back, it looks awful," Steve says, only staying long enough to make sure Goodie is moving.
It's like herding fucking cats. Feral, maybe a touch rabid, cats.
Back at breakfast, Eddie's clearly looking for him.
"Steve," Eddie says, and pats the empty chair next to him, "Come. Sit. Eat."
Steve looks at his watch. Yeah, he better do that if he's gonna before they go.
Standing at the buffet, Robin comes up and hip checks him, "Hey, dingus. You look tired," she says, and he feels tired. It's gonna be a long fucking summer, no matter how this all shakes out. "Let me pick up some of the slack. Put me to work."
He leans down and kisses her head. He just may have to, for his own sanity.
Goodie eventually blunders in, looking a little worse for wear.
"Hey, Daddy. Long, hard night?" Gareth says, and everyone that had been within earshot last night laughs, while everyone else is just confused. Steve hadn't actually heard any of this himself, he was long asleep by then, but Gareth made sure to relay all the dirty details to anyone that would listen.
Apparently whatever hellcat Goodie brought home last night had a daddy kink that they all loudly got to experience. They didn't even have to pay extra for the show.
Steve's shocked Eddie didn't call the hotel to complain about the noise. Goodie did that to them once, and he knows Eddie would love to repay the favor, just for fun.
Goodie reaches down and squeezes Gareth's neck from behind, but he's laughing. Steve's already seen the scratches on his back, and now he can see the marks all up and down his neck, so he must have really caught himself a wild one.
Good for him.
"They can call me anything they want, as long as they fuck like that," Goodie says, reaching over Gareth's head, pulling all the bacon off Gareth's plate. There are complaints, of course there are when it comes to Gareth and Goodie, but Jeff is walking by and just takes bacon from his plate and drops it on Gareth's.
Keeping the peace.
It's not like there isn't an unlimited supply. They paid for it, they can eat all they want before the bus leaves in, Steve checks his watch, forty-six minutes.
It's a day off, and they don't have far to go, but they still have a schedule to keep, and playing catch up is a pain in the ass. It's so much easier to stick to it, even if he has to strong-arm them to get them anywhere on time.
Steve stands by the steps of the bus, marking everyone off as they get on. The crew bus already situated, and long gone. But Goodie's been on and off their bus twice, as everyone else was settling in for an on-time departure. Steve looks up at Saul, the bus driver, "We're waiting on Goodie to get on again. And then we're ready."
Saul gives him the thumbs up.
Goodie comes walking back across the parking lot, six-pack of beer under his arm. Hair of the dog, Steve supposes.
"That it? We're good?" Steve asks, and Goodie nods behind his sunglasses, shuffling up the steps and crashing onto the open spot on the couch next to Jeff.
"Wild night, huh?" Jeff asks Goodie.
"I'm fucking sore. Everywhere," Goodie moans, and Steve chuckles as he does the final headcount.
He thinks they're all here, but he doesn't want to get fifty miles down the road and realize Gareth isn't anywhere to be found.
Not again.
Eddie's in his bunk, reading.
Billy's foot is dangling out of his, blocking the aisle.
Steve steps over it, and knocks on the back bedroom, getting responses from both Gareth and Diana. That's everyone. All here.
"Saul, it's all yours," Steve says, sliding into the jump seat, as the bus finally pulls away.
Next stop, Jacksonville.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
#corrodedcoffinfest#prompt twenty-three: up and coming#steve harrington#goodie (unnamed freak) stranger things#gareth stranger things#eddie munson#jeff stranger things#freak stranger things#billy hargrove#corroded coffin fic#ccf day twenty-three: up and coming#thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest#thisapplepielife: short fic
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Homicidal Liu and Jeff The Killer (Woods brothers platonic)
tw: angst, description of past violence, memories.
author's notes: I still hold the opinion that Jeff is a lone killer and he wouldn't become one of the proxies at gunpoint. But I love the Woods brothers too much, so I'm willing to betray my principles for the sake of this story.
Jeff hates that he's here, that he's among the same lunatics that his younger brother is. He hates hearing his voice, he hates feeling his presence, he hates that he survived.
It would have been easier for him to accept that Liu died after his younger brother brutally murdered him, gutted his organs and mutilated his body. It's easier to live with that, because based on that, Jeff can conclude that he's a monster. A bastard who doesn't need family, friends, or an environment, who copes with his ego and endless love of bloodshed. He didn't give a damn about how much it hurt, how his victims squirmed, how they begged him to stop while their faces bled from the pressure and distorted into a grimace of horror at the very sight of Jeff. After all, he didn't even cry when he plunged a blood-soaked knife into his own older brother's flesh for the umpteenth time. He was feeding off of how frantically Liu was trying to defend himself.
But now Jeff has to put up with being human. That it's typical for him to feel sorry, that he's typical to feel uncontrollable, overwhelming pain and despair. His own ego is bursting at the seams at the thought that he is sorry that seeing Liu like this is unbearable. Especially to see how he forgives Jeff, how he tries to get in touch, unobtrusively, carefully, as if Liu was the killer and Jeff was the victim.
Jeff would climb into his own skull, crushing the bone with his own hands, reach into the convolutions with his fingers and pull out the part that responds to regret. He dug into the very core so that he would never feel burdensome fucking guilt again. She makes he sick, she makes he sick. All these years he thought he was a monster, a psychopath. That's true, but is it typical for all of this to feel like you care?
Jeff stumbles into the mansion with a characteristic bang of the door hitting the wall. It was unusual for him to be quiet within these walls. Hedidn't t care who wants to sleep there. He's fucked up, he urgently needs to bury his nose in the pillow without even bothering to undress. It's winter now, and everyone gets sick, and falls into bed, so he wouldn't even think about waking someone up when they're knocked out like babies, but that's if he didn't care.
Clearing his throat, he trudges down the hallway when he notices the flickering firelight from the hall. Gears begin to work in his head despite his fatigue. At such a time, only a few creatures are awake: BEN, but he never stays alone in the mansion, it is typical for him to go to the cyberworld during his vacation; Sally, however, the static is not heard — she has trouble sleeping and sometimes Slenderman stays with her in his arms by the fireplace until the baby falls asleep.
Jeff took a few steps forward, peering into the hall, at first concluding that the fireplace had simply been forgotten to put out, but he notices that the firewood is fresh. At the same moment, he gets an electric shock that makes the hair on his neck stand on end - there's a folded striped scarf on the couch. Jeff hurries to escape, manages to take a few wide hurried steps away from the hall, as a painfully familiar voice is heard behind him, calling his name. Liu looks at his back with a kind of despair. Jeff can feel it.
Why the hell couldn't that bastard sleep-
«Just look at me».
Jeff doesn't even turn around. He stands there rooted to the spot, staring at one point and nervously clutching the handle of a knife in the pocket of his hoodie. He doesn't want to look at the scarred face, doesn't want to remember how his knife so easily split open his older brother's face. In any other setting, Jeff would have considered these scars beautiful just because they're shaped like a smile. The teeth are clenched until they crack somewhere in the skull. Finally Jeff responds with a negative shake of his head. He doesn't hear when Liu gets closer, despite Jeff's enhanced hearing.
«Jeffrey».
«Not today, okay? I'm fucked up, you know where you can find me»
«I'm tired of you avoiding me, too». Jeff makes a hoarse grunt, like it's something he never wanted to hear.
«I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't come here». He raises his voice, glancing over his shoulder at Liu. His heart skips a beat and he immediately turns away. Jeff knew that this conversation would take place, he knew that he would be alone with his brother, and he knew that he would delay this moment to the last drop. Jeff takes a step back, tries to turn away, when Liu walks around him and wraps his arms around his shoulders, almost escapes from the grip and, like a child, rests his chin on his chest just not to look just not to look just not to look-
Liu's arms are wrapped tightly around his body anyway, pressing his face against his lifeless black hair. Jeff's arms fell limply to either side of his body as he stared glassy-eyed through something. He was afraid to hug Liu back. It's scary that this body will incinerate at his touch or crack like a fragile relic. But he was tired, exhausted. He allowed himself to press his forehead slightly against his brother's shoulder, exhaling humbly.
«Aren't you scared?» Jeff asked in a low voice, hoping deep down for a "no" answer, even though he told himself it was absurd.
«I'm scared. It's scary that nothing alive moves in me anymore from someone else's pain, it's scary that we.. strangers».
It was on the tip of his tongue to say, «I'm afraid of what you've become». He's really scared at the thought of his little brother becoming this. Irreparably insane. Liu will never admit to himself that he still feels the same fear that night when he sees Jeff out of the corner of his eye in the corridors of the mansion.
But they're close. They're both scared and they're both in pain.
#creepypasta#jeff the killer#creepypasta headcanons#homicidal liu#liu woods#jeff woods#angst#siblings#slenderverse#slender proxy#creepypasta proxy#schwaart
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Greek Goddess Legacy Challenge: Generation #2 Aphrodite: Complete Sheets
I present to you: Aphrodite!
You’re pretty and you very well know it. Sims lie at your feet, so you decide to date and kiss as many sims as you want. Too bad no one can keep up with you, you never seem to find your match. This all changes when you see him. Ares, god of war. He is your equal in every way. You both fall madly in love with each other. No one can keep you two apart. Until your brother Crius forces you to marry rich and influential scientist Hephaestus. His ring feels like a prison. you find yourself falling back into old patterns and new beds. More often than not it’s Ares’. The magazines and public have a lot of opinions on your life, constantly bothering you and your family. but you don't care what they say. You deserve the world. All is fair in love and war.
Little bit explanation with the sheets: - First sheet is for describing your current generation, with the challenges you need to do each life-stage. Also, because I love the myths, a bit of mythological background. May it inspire you :) - Second sheet is the preparation sheet for this generation, with important characters for your story. It is technically optional, but I love seeing sims with a backstory in my world, so I would highly recommend it. - Third sheet is for your gens children. They all have their own little challenges if your interested in those. I try to make all of them a bit different from each other, so it doesn't get boring. Your heir is also on this sheet, but I've put their challenges on their own sheets. Stay tuned for those ;) - Fourth sheet is completely optional. If you want sims with names from the myths and love making sims to see them in your world, this is for you! All with a little mythological background ofc, you know me.
Next Generation is Hera! Previous (and first) Generation was Gaia
The Greek Goddesses Challenge by LJJ-Sims is a challenge based on the ancient mythical creatures and stories from Greece. I fell in love with Greek mythology in high school and have not let that love go since. In this challenge you will follow 10 deities in their journey through life. Every goddess has a different take on and goal in life. Special about this challenge? All your kids have little challenges of their own, not only your heir. These challenges are optional, so if you feel like these are too much or just too restricting for you: by all means let them go. I also have sheets for characters that you can make before you start each generation. This gives your challenge a lot more personality and makes it frankly easier and more fun!
A little disclaimer: because I made these gods and goddesses into a legacy challenge, the relationships in the myths don’t exactly match the relationship in this challenge. There is a lot of keep it in the family in mythology, to put it lightly. And apart from the fact that you can’t do that in the Sims, I don’t really like that part. So I didn’t include it, thus the inconsistency. An example: Ares is now Hera’s stepfather instead of her son, which she conceived with her brother and husband Zeus. This inconsistency can also be found in the stories. It’s just based on and not copied exactly, as Sims live lives that are a lot shorter than those of immortal gods. And it takes a way from the creativity if we just copy the myths. Even if we wanted to do that, it’s quite hard, as every myths has its fair share of variations and some are just completely different stories.
I use the MCCC-mod to alter the length of life states. You can find the days-years ratio here: the boring stuff.
#sim#sims#maxis match#sims 4#ljjsims#ljj#challenge#sims 4 legacy#the sims community#the sims 4#the sims#ts4 challenge#legacy challenge#thegreekgoddesslegacychallenge#greek goddesses#greek goddess#myth#ancient greek#ancient greece#greek mythology#classical mythology#greek myths#greek deities#sims 4 challenge#aphrodite#ares#hephaestus#hera#the graces
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