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kwanisms · 13 days ago

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HELP! My Neighbor is an Alien a Porn Star — h.joshua

Neighbors come and go and for Y/N, this is inevitable. Which is why she never bothered to get to know her neighbors. She owns her townhouse while the two on either side of her are rentals. When a new neighbor moves in, she doesn’t think much of it until she sees the extremely attractive and single man moving in next door. She learns his name is Joshua and that there’s more than meets the eye; a whole lot more. alien!Joshua × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT 13k (i'm not sorry anymore lol) ❑ WARNINGS — adult dialogue, female reader, sex work, mentions of: food & alcohol consumption, aliens, porn, cam work; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — fluff (in the form of comedy), smut (hella); sex work, porn industry, neighbors to lovers; non idol au, alien au, porn star au ❑ NOTES — this is my submission for @ddeonghwa-s cupid event. Hello, hello @shuadotcom it is I! Your cupid! This was so much fun to write and the premise was so fun to come up with! I hope you like your alien!Joshua! I love this concept so much and I could definitely be convinced to return to this in the future. This is not proofread because I didn’t have time 😭a huge thank you to @wooahaeproductions jupiter, @facethesunflower (+hubby) for helping coming up with the usernames. y'all are hilarious and wild. and thank you all for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: voyeurism, watching porn/cam show, masturbation (male receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (do not do. especially with an alien), sex with an alien (lol), joshua has an alien cock (which is described in full detail so enjoy that image), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), mild degradation, praise (f receiving), joshua’s precum is an aphrodisiac (pretty cool tbh. aliens are fun to write) so there’s that and also cum eating??, choking (f receiving), and I think that’s all of them lol but of course, let me know if I missed anything!

One of the things that came with living in the suburbs was neighbors but for you, getting to know them was never a priority. Owning your townhome meant you were a constant in the neighborhood while your neighbors were not. The townhomes on either side of you were rental properties with a plethora of families coming and going depending on how long the lease was.

Despite not taking the time to get to know them, you still made a conscious effort to be a good neighbor, never causing problems or resolving any that popped up. Most of the neighbors you had were families with young children or young couples still in the first few years of marriage. There were the occasional single professionals that moved in but they were far and few between.

So when you woke up one morning and headed down to make a cup of coffee before clocking into your work from home job, the sight of the box truck parked outside the house wasn’t a surprise. You walked over to the large bay window, spreading the slats of the blinds to peer outside.

The box truck must have pulled up while you were still upstairs as the back was now open and workers were moving briskly to unload items from the back. As you watched, you wondered who your new neighbor was going to be. Would it be another family like the last ones? Or maybe a couple of young professionals.

Letting the slats fall back in place, you turned from the window to go about your day, heading into your downstairs office off the main entry and shutting the doors to close off the rest of the home from your working space. You took a seat at the desk, setting your coffee on its designated coaster and powered up your dual screen pc. While it booted up, you sipped on your coffee, eyes occasionally drifting to the window where you could still see some of the movers unloading boxes and furniture.

The jingle of your computer home screen loading drew your attention back to the task at hand: work.

The rest of your morning consisted of checking emails, starting on reports and reviewing itineraries. It wasn’t a glamorous job but it afforded you a comfortable living and to pay your bills while also adding to your savings and being able to spend money on your hobbies.

When it was lunch time, you broke away from your screen and picked up your phone, scrolling through the various delivery options before deciding on something that sounded good and was relatively close. You placed your order and decided to leave your office and check to see if the mail had arrived.

Upon opening the door, you could see that the box truck was still parked but that the movers seemed to be finishing up. Walking down the steps from your porch, you glanced over to the townhouse that had sat vacant until today. Amongst the movers who wore khaki uniforms of short sleeve button downs and black pants, was a man who was dressed entirely different.

You opened your gate, stepping out to the cluster of mailboxes you found the mail had indeed come. You quickly opened yours with your key, pulling out the various envelopes, sneaking glances at your new neighbor as he spoke to who you could only assume was the boss of the movers. He had black hair, pushed back off his forehead.

He wore a simple white tee shirt, light wash jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He looked relatively ordinary. As you shut your mailbox door, you moved back to your gate, opening it. At the sound of the gate latch, the man looked in your direction. You quickly averted your eyes and made your way back to your steps.

You chanced a glance at the man, finding his attention was back on the moving company boss. You returned to the safety and privacy of your home, mail clutched against your chest as you shut your door. You shook yourself and headed into your office, grumbling about looking and feeling like an idiot.

It wasn’t like you weren’t supposed to be there. This was your neighborhood, too. You were perfectly within your rights to collect your mail and it was only natural that you would be curious about the new neighbor moving in. So why did you feel so strange?

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the sound of your doorbell made you jump, the letter in your hands you were about to open flying through the air and landing on your desk. You mentally scolded yourself for being so jumpy and got up, moving to the front door where you peered through the glass, shifting the small curtain to find the delivery driver with your food.

You opened the door, collecting your lunch with a ‘thanks’ and a generous tip before retreating once more into your home and carrying the takeout to your kitchen.

After lunch, you returned to your office, sorting through your mail before clocking back in for the rest of your shift. As the day wound down, you finalized your reports and submitted them before checking in for an end of the day meeting. It wasn’t a long meeting, fortunately, and you mostly just had to listen, occasionally giving your input before you were finally released and allowed to clock out.

After powering down your computer for the day, you left the office, heading into the kitchen to get started on making dinner. It was a mostly quiet affair, listening to one of your favorite scary story podcasts while you cooked a simple meal.

Once finished, you sat down to eat, continuing your podcast and listening to the narrator tell stories about the horrors of backpacking through Appalachia, something you would never do solely because of the stories you’d heard. Not that being outdoors was really much of your thing. You were more of an inside cat.

After eating and cleaning up, you made sure the downstairs was locked up and headed up to your bedroom, drawing yourself a nice, relaxing bath with the rest of your open bottle of wine. The bath was less about getting clean and more about relaxing as it was thankfully the weekend and you were now allowed to hide away in your home for two days before returning to the office on Monday morning.

As you soaked in the tub, you thought about your new neighbor. Was he the only one living in that big house? Did he have a family? A partner? Children? Answers that you would definitely not learn tonight but surely you would meet him in passing at some point. Perhaps you would find out then.

Then again, you never really made much of a conscious effort before to get to know your neighbors on more than a surface level, sharing names and basic information like job titles and pleasantries. You’d never invited a neighbor over for dinner nor had been invited over. You preferred it that way.

You had friends, you weren’t looking for any more.

The next day, you slept in, enjoying the warmth of your nest of pillows and cocoon of blankets for as long as you could before your subconscious nagged at you to finally get up and start the day. On a normal day, you would be up by 6 am, making breakfast or taking a shower before you had to clock into work at 8 am. Today however, you slept in until 9 before guilt wracked you for wasting the morning.

You went about your day, making a simple breakfast of eggs, sausage, and some sauteed vegetables. You downed your breakfast with some coffee before deciding today you would get your shopping done. Every weekend, you stocked up on groceries that were running low. After getting ready and donning more appropriate clothing, you ventured into your garage, located on the backside of your townhouse and got into your car.

The drive to the nearest market wasn’t long and you enjoyed the mostly empty streets and mild weather by singing and dancing along to your playlist. Drumming your fingers against the steering wheel to the beat and bobbing your head, you pulled into the parking lot of the market, pulling into a space and putting your car into park before shutting off the engine.

As you got out, you grabbed your bag of reusable totes from the trunk of your car and headed for the door, grabbing a cart and pulling out your list, kept conveniently on your phone. Walking up and down the aisles, you grabbed the items from your list, marking them off as you set them down in the basket.

As you rounded up your shopping, your phone started to vibrate in your hands and you checked the screen, seeing the face of your best friend along with her contact name. A smile crept over your face as you slid the bar across the bottom of the screen to answer, holding the device up to your ear.

“Hi Jiji,” you said softly. “Y/N! Where are you? I’m at your house and —” You let out a sigh as you maneuvered your cart, one-handed, through the store towards the check out area. “Jiji,” you said, trying to hide your exasperation. “I’m at the store. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you’re coming over before you get there, right?” you asked as you got into the queue to wait for an available terminal.

“I know,” your best friend started. “I was in the neighborhood and —”

Your brows furrowed at your best friend’s obvious lie. “You’re never just in the neighborhood, Youngji,” you countered. “Don’t pull that with me.” You heard her click her tongue impatiently. “Okay, you’re right but that’s not why I’m calling. When were you going to tell me you got a new neighbor?” You rolled your eyes as you neared the start of the queue.

“When I saw you tonight,” you answered. “Like a normal person would.” There was silence on the other end. “Oh… well, when will you be home?” she asked, sounding like a bored child. “I’m in line to check out,” you explained. “I have another errand to run and then I’ll be home.” You heard Youngji whine on the other side of the line. “Just let yourself in,” you said with a chuckle. “You know where the spare key is.”

You heard Youngji fumble with something. “Oh you’re right. Let me make sure no one is watching,” she murmured before you heard movement. “Got it!” she said triumphantly. You could hear the sound of her putting the key into the lock and the click of the latch as it unlocked. The sound of the door opening and shutting came over the line before you heard her turn the lock.

“I’m in,” she said in a whisper. “I’m gonna raid your fridge,” she added. You snorted as one of the checkout terminals opened up and you pushed your cart towards it. “It’s empty, so good luck,” you said as you started to unload your times. “I’m checking out now,” you announced as you heard the fridge open. “Boo, you suck,” Youngji whined. “Goodbye,” you continued and hung up, pocketing your phone.

As you continued to scan your items, you glanced up, eyes landing on the person at the self checkout machine across from yours. It was him. Your new neighbor. He glanced up, meeting your eyes. Your cheeks burned at being caught and you quickly offered a polite smile before returning your attention back to scanning and bagging your items.

You could feel his eyes on you and when you glanced back up, you saw them still looking at you as he scanned his own items, bagging them without looking. Seeing him this close, you could see that his eyes were a striking ombre of yellow and green and it caused your breath to catch in your throat. Either he had some really kick ass contact lenses, or he wasn’t human.

Upon meeting your gaze, he offered a mischievous smile, one where you could see that his teeth were slightly off, and definitely not human. The canines were too sharp and a little too long. You lowered your eyes and finished scanning your items, placing them into the reusable bags.

You quickly pulled out your loyalty card, scanning it and hoping for some deals before you started to finish up your transaction. Following the on screen prompts, you pressed the buttons for payment and card before holding your card over the reader until it beeped. Once your receipt printed out, you put your bags into your cart and pushed it away from the check out, not sparing another glance back.

Out in the parking lot, you returned to your vehicle, popping the trunk and placing your bags into the back before shutting the lid and pushing your cart into the cart return area. As you turned, you nearly ran into a cart pushed by none other than your new neighbor who had the same mischievous smirk on his face. “Pardon me,” he said, his voice lower and more honeyed than you were expecting. It simultaneously sent chills up your spine but also sent a wave of calm over you.

He was definitely not human.

“Apologies,” he added as you stepped aside, allowing him to push his cart into the slot behind yours. “D-don’t worry about it,” you stammered as he turned to look at you, those same piercing eyes looking back at you. “I should be going,” you added, taking a step backwards. “You’re my neighbor, aren’t you?” he asked, leaning casually against the metal fence surrounding the cart return.

You nodded slowly as he looked at you. “Y-yeah,” you said breathlessly. A smile spread across his face before he held his hand out for you to shake. “Joshua,” he said in what you assumed was an introduction. You hesitantly took his hand, feeling the heat radiating off him. “Y/N,” you responded in a much softer voice than you intended.

Just as quickly as he took your hand and shook it, he let go, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, putting an emphasis on your name. You couldn’t deny, you liked the way your name sounded when he said it. “You too, Joshua,” you answered. He tilted his head like a curious puppy. “So,” he started, taking a step forward, closer, towards you.

“Do you live alone?”

His question seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you seemed to be in and now that the allure of his smile was no longer clouding your judgement, your entire body was screaming at the danger it sensed. “No,” you lied. Joshua stopped to stare at you. “You don’t live alone?” he asked curiously. You shook your head. “No,” you answered again. “I have a –” you trailed off. What lie could you get away with. A roommate? A parent? A boyfriend? At some point he might notice if no one else showed up.

“Cat,” you finally said. ‘What the fuck?’ Joshua’s confused expression morphed into amusement. “Ahh, a cat.” You mentally scolded yourself. ‘What the fuck was that? How the hell is that going to deter anyone? A fucking cat???’ You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, a cat.”

Silence fell over the two of you before you finally broke it.

“Well, I should be going. Nice to meet you!” you said quickly before turning and making a beeline for your car. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he called. You quickly unlocked your car and got in, shutting and locking the doors before fighting with your seatbelt. Once it clicked into place, you started the car, checking the coast was clear before hastily pulling out of the space and hurrying out of the parking lot as fast as you could without hurting anyone or violating any laws.

Your second errand only took a few minutes and soon, you were pulling into your garage, the door shutting behind you as you got out of your car and started unloading your groceries. Entering your home, you heard the subtle sounds of the TV and deposited your bags on the kitchen island. Turning around, you found Youngji lounging on your couch, remote in hand as she flipped through the channels.

“Welcome home, dear,” she called jokingly from her spot. “How was your day?”

You grimaced as you removed your jacket and moved to hang it up in the small hall near your garage entrance and kicked off your shoes, opting for your house slippers instead. You returned to the kitchen and started unpacking your groceries. “If you’re going to pretend like you live here, you can at least help me put the groceries away,” you said, looking over at her.

Youngji turned off the TV, tossing the remote onto the cushion beside her before getting up with a groan and making her way into your kitchen, wearing a pair of guest slippers. “Did you bring me any snacks?” she asked as she peered into one of the bags. You lightly tapped her on the head with an unopened plastic jar of grated parmesan.

“No snooping,” you said as you continued to pull everything out. “Just unload.”

As she helped, you chatted, talking about your respective weeks. As you started to put your things away, Youngji hopped up onto the kitchen counter, handing you things. “So,” she started as she handed you an unopened bottle of your favorite wine. “Your new neighbor.”

You stood up straight, taking the bottle from her and looking up at her nervously. “What about them?” you asked as nonchalantly as you could, bending over to lay the bottle of wine on its side on the bottom shelf of the fridge. “Have you met them?” Youngji asked as you stood up straight. “Yeah,” you answered vaguely. “I met him.” Youngji’s expression lit up.

“Him? As in singular man? Living next door?”

You looked up at her, noticing the excitement in her eyes. “No,” you said, pointing at her with your finger. “Don’t look at me like that!” Youngji pouted instantly as you continued putting away your perishables. “Oh come on!” she whined as you shut the refrigerator door. “Is he single?” she asked as you moved to start putting away the pantry items.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. “I didn’t ask.”

Youngji hopped down and moved to lean against the wall next to the pantry opening, arms crossed over her chest. “You met him but didn’t talk about the basics?” she asked. You looked at her as you set a new bag of rice on the shelf. “We didn’t really have a chance to talk,” you admitted. “I met him at the store while I was checking out.”

Youngji narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you hung up on me?” she accused. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I hung up on you because I needed both hands to scan my items and put them away. Stop jumping to conclusions,” you added. Youngji stuck her tongue out at you as you finished putting the groceries away.

“Well, what’s he like?” Youngji asked as you moved to grab the non-food items to put away. She followed you through the house as you put away your laundry detergent in the laundry room. She continued to follow you as you took your toiletry refills upstairs to your linen closet.

“His name is Joshua,” you offered when she asked for his name. “That’s as much as I got.” Youngji wandered behind you as you led the way back downstairs. “No job?” she asked. You turned to face her as you reached the kitchen. “I didn’t get to ask and he didn’t offer the information.”

Youngji frowned as you opened the fridge and started to pull out the things you needed to make dinner. Your best friend moved to sit at the kitchen island. “So,” she started as you grabbed the necessary pans and set them on the counter. “What’s for dinner, boss?”

Dinner was a regular affair, sipping on wine as the pasta boiled and chicken cooked. Youngji was great company and always knew how to keep the conversation going, cracking jokes and telling amusing tales of her coworkers’ antics.

After finishing your early dinner, you headed upstairs to get changed and ready to go out. It was Saturday night and twice a month, you accompanied Youngji out to the city to visit her favorite club and let loose. You opted for a fitted, black dress that hugged your curves and fell just above your knees. Paired with the only pair of red bottom shoes you owned and a simple black clutch, you joined your best friend downstairs to put on your shoes and grab your jackets while you waited for the rideshare to arrive.

Youngji had donned a similar fitted dress but in white with a different neckline and long sleeves, over which she wore a black denim cropped jacket and wore black pumps with silver heels. Her clutch, which was a cross body with a chain strap, hung off her shoulder and the body of the purse was a vibrant red. You’d gone more subtle on your makeup but Youngji had, as always, gone bold with a dark smokey eye and nude lip.

Your uber arrived shortly after and Youngji led the way out of your house, letting you close and lock the door behind you. The black, four door sedan had tinted windows but the driver in the front seat matched the picture on the app, as did the license plate. You followed your best friend into the backseat, settling into the black leather interior.

The ride to the club wasn’t far but took longer with the traffic as you neared the heart of the city. As the car pulled up to the entrance of the club, you thanked the driver, handing her a cash tip and getting out of the car, curbside. Youngji joined you on the sidewalk as the car pulled into the flow of traffic and you turned to join the thankfully short queue into the club.

The location of the club was off the main strip of the downtown area so it never got exceedingly busy but it was still always full of people when you arrived. You never had to wait in line for long though and soon you were handing your IDs over to the bouncer and being directed inside where you paid your cover charges. The charge was higher than other clubs, but the higher cover charge meant the drinks were cheaper.

After turning your jackets into the coat room and getting your tickets, which you tucked into the safety of your clutches, you made your way to the bar, keeping a firm hold on Youngji’s hand as she led the way through the throngs of people on the dance floor. The music the DJ played was always a good mix of different genres that always got people dancing. He definitely knew what he was doing.

At the bar, you squeezed between the other patrons, next to your best friend so you could order something simple. There were several bartenders, bustling about as they got drink orders, made drinks, stocked the station, and other usual duties that came with the job. You ordered something with cherries.

When you got your drink, you were surprised to find it was green with green cherries. The bartender, a very attractive man with a black button down under a black vest, gave you a wink as he set the drink down before you. You thanked him but before you could hand him your card, Youngji beat you to it, opening a tab and telling you it was on her tonight.

After getting your drinks, you nursed them at the end of the bar as you looked around for either an empty seat or table. Youngji must have spotted one because she grabbed your hand and started steering you away from the bar and around the dance floor. As you neared the corner, you noticed two empty chairs and quickly snagged them, thankful to find somewhere to sit.

“How is that?” Youngji asked, eyeing your very green drink. You glanced down at it. “It’s good,” you replied over the bass that reverberated through the club and vibrated against your feet. Youngji silently held her hand out for your drink which you handed over. She took a sip, eyes widening as she handed it back. “That’s good, what is it?” she asked. You shrugged as you took another sip. “No idea,” you replied. “I taste sprite and melon though,” you added, taking another sip.

You continued to nurse your drinks as you listened to the music and watched the other patrons. One of the main reasons you came out here was to people-watch. It was fascinating to see how others interacted, especially strangers. When you finished your drink, Youngji got up and went to retrieve two more, bringing back two of the same drink you had received from the bartender.

“It’s some special drink for the night,” Youngji said as she sat down, handing you one of the drinks. “Mean Green or something like that,” she added. You took another sip, enjoying the taste. It was one of those drinks where you could barely taste the alcohol and in your experience with the club scene, you were well aware that drinks that tasted like juice were dangerous.

The alcohol had a way of sneaking up on you.

After downing a second and eventually a third drink, you were loose enough to throw your inhibitions away and join your best friend on the dance floor. The music, a mix of a couple sounds you’d heard in passing, played, drowning out almost all other sound as you enjoyed this time you got to spend with your best friend.

When you first moved to this city after graduating from college, which felt like a lifetime ago, Youngji was one of the first people you met. She worked at your last job. You were both fresh out of college, in debt, and needing work so entry level was the only thing you could find.

Youngji had immediately latched onto you and quickly became your closest work friend. After a few years of attempting to make your way up the corporate ladder, you found a much better paying job and Youngji was the first to encourage you to go for it. When you left, you had expected that your friendship with Youngji wouldn’t last but she continued to text and call, inviting you out and your friendship blossomed into more than just coworkers. You became actual friends.

Eventually, she left that job as well and went in a completely different direction in her career and now you were both settled and comfortable in your careers. Youngji lived in the city in a cute apartment on the edge of downtown that overlooked the river while you lived in a townhouse which had been a gift from your late aunt.

The next logical step now that you were settled was finding someone to share your life with but you weren’t in a rush to find anyone. Youngji was also in that stage where she was looking but not too seriously. You were just enjoying your life and living vicariously.

As the music changed again, Youngji leaned in to speak into your ear. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she said over the music. You nodded to show you understood and told her you’d wait right there. You were having too much fun, feeling the music and dancing. You were well past the stage where you felt embarrassed or too anxious to do anything by yourself.

As your body swayed, your eyes shut and you continued to move to the beat. The lights seemed to mimic the crowd, dancing over the people in time to the music. You started to turn when you felt a warm body press into you from behind. Your eyes snapped open instantly, knowing it was impossible for it to be your best friend. They were too tall.

Turning in their hold, your eyes met those same green-yellow ombre eyes.

“Well, hello, neighbor,” Joshua said, an amused smirk on his face as he looked down at you.

“J-Joshua?” you asked, your voice barely audible over the music. Your body had stopped swaying as you stared back at him. “What’re you doing here?” He tilted his head curiously, those yellow-green eyes staring into your soul and seemingly glowing under the club lights.

“It’s a club, Y/N,” he answered. “I’m here to partake in this…” he trailed off, looking around at the dancing patrons surrounding you. “Revelry.” You stared up at him, heart pounding in your chest and echoing in your ears. “Am I not supposed to be here?” he asked, moving closer until his body was pressed right up against yours.

“Is this your special place? Should I find somewhere else to go and watch the people of this planet drink and make fools of themselves?” he asked, hands skimming over your hips as he drew you closer, holding you tight against him. You shook your head, staring at him wordlessly. “No,” you finally said, breath leaving your lungs as he leaned in closer.

“No,” you said again, clearing your throat and finding the will to push him back. “I’m uh…” you hesitated, closing your eyes and your brow furrowing. The club had started to spin and you were getting dizzier and dizzier by the minute. “Y/N?” Joshua asked, hands gently grabbing yours. “Are you alright?” he asked. You shook your head, attempting to shake yourself out of whatever this was.

You looked up at him as his face came back into focus. “Yeah,” you gasped. “I’m fine. I need to go find my friend. Enjoy your night.” You pulled away from him and started to push through the crowd only for him to catch up to you, gently grabbing your hand. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, all amusement gone from his expression, replaced only with concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Have a good night, neighbor,” you said, attempting to banter back with him. Whatever it was in your tone seemed to work and a small smile came over his face. “Alright, neighbor.”

You quickly found Youngji and after telling her about your almost spill on the dance floor, she agreed it was time to leave. You left out the part about running into Joshua as you retrieved your jackets while Youngji closed her tab at the bar. Outside, you waited for your rideshare on the sidewalk. The line for the club now extended down the side of the building and around the corner.

Your uber arrived shortly after stepping outside and after dropping Youngji off at her apartment, the driver took you back to your home in the suburbs. You thanked him, handing over an additional tip as you opened your door and stepped out.

The walk up to your front door was slow and sluggish and your body felt hot, despite the cool night air. It was a heat that radiated from deep within you and you couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps it was the alcohol but it didn’t feel quite right. As you unlocked your door, a car passed on the street behind you but you paid it no mind as you let yourself into your home, shutting and locking the door behind you.

You dragged yourself upstairs after checking to make sure your home was locked up and barely stripped yourself of your dress and shoes before collapsing into bed where exhaustion and sleep overtook you. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the run in with your handsome neighbor, but your dreams that night were weird to say the least.

Weirder than usual.

When you woke the following morning, you couldn’t really remember much of them other than your neighbor starred in them and they were accompanied by that same deep seated heat that had thankfully dissipated by morning. The rest of your weekend was spent doing chores. You cleaned your house, did the laundry, and the dishes.

The morning had started out very gray and by afternoon, the clouds hadn’t dispersed and a light rain had settled in. You decided to light a few candles and camp out in the front room in front of your TV while you folded your laundry and caught up on your favorite show.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion and soon you were falling into bed.

Your sleep was plagued with the same strange dreams with Joshua. You weren’t sure what it all meant and you weren’t able to learn anything else as you woke up abruptly when your alarm cut through your subconscious. It was still dark out when you pulled yourself out of bed to shower and start your day.

It was the one day a week you were required to be in the office. Your job was mostly work from home but you had to go to the office every Monday for in person weekly meetings which were always done on Mondays. The commute to the office was the worst part, driving downtown, parking in the company parking garage, and making your way to the lobby and then up to the fifteenth floor.

The day dragged on but you were thankful that it was just today that you would be required to go in and then you could lounge about at home and get your work done. When the clock finally read half past four, you were beyond relieved to be leaving and heading home.

The commute back was much more enjoyable due to less traffic and you weren’t required to head back for another week.

You pulled into your garage and got out, letting yourself into the house where you were quick to rid yourself of your jacket and shoes. As you headed into your living room, you caught sight of the mail truck outside and sighed. ‘Right,’ you told yourself. ‘The mail.’

You retrieved your shoes and put them on at the front door, stepping out into the cool air and making your way down the steps. As you were halfway to the gate, you noticed a familiar face at the mailboxes and stopped in your tracks. Joshua. You were contemplating turning around and head back in to wait until he was gone but when his eyes flickered up and he caught sight of you, it was too late.

You committed and continued down the pathway, opening your gate and stepping out onto the sidewalk. “Hey neighbor,” Joshua said as he unlocked his slot, pulling out his mail and shutting it before stepping aside and allowing you to do the same. He sorted through his mail, checking to make sure it was all assigned to him while you pulled your own bills and other junk from your little metal box.

“Hey,” you said softly. As you shut the small door, locking it, Joshua spoke up. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, his voice sounding genuinely concerned. You looked up at him. With a smile you nodded. “Yeah,” you answered. “Just tired from the day. Had to go into the office today.” He glanced down, taking note of your attire. “So where do you work?” he asked,

“Just at a firm downtown,” you answered. “I mostly work from home but once a week, I have to go into the office. Makes my Mondays just that more awful,” you joked with a light chuckle. Joshua mimicked your amusement. “What do you do?” he asked, sounding mildly curious.

You spent the next couple minutes explaining the nuances of your job and what you did on a day to day basis. “It sounds much more tedious than it is,” you added. “It’s not a glamorous or highly important job,” you added. “But it pays really well. Allows me to live a comfortable life.” Joshua nodded slowly.

“And rent such a beautiful home?” he asked, a smile gracing his face. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I actually own my townhome.” His expression shifted to awe. “Your salary covers your mortgage?” he asked, sounding impressed. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I actually inherited this place from my aunt,” you explained.

Joshua leaned against the gate, glancing back at your place. “It’s a beautiful home,” he said with a smile. You echoed his expression. “My aunt loved this place. She took great care of it and actually renovated it from the bottom to the top.” Joshua glanced down at you. “She did a great job.”

You looked up to meet his gaze. Silence fell as you stared at one another. Finally you broke eye contact and cleared your throat. “So, uh,” you stared. “What about you? What do you do for work?” Joshua’s smile shifted into a smirk for the briefest of moments but before he could answer, you heard the sound of a phone ringing. He apologized softly, digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

His eyes read the contact on the screen and you watched as his brow furrowed slightly. He finally looked up at you. “Sorry,” he said with a kind smile. “I have to take this. It was nice talking to you,” he continued. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he added before turning away and heading towards his own gate, answering his phone and holding it to his ear.

You watched as he headed towards his front door and disappeared into his home before making your way back to your own front door. Once inside, you went about your night, making dinner, eating, and then settling down for bed. As you lay there, your mind wandered back to Joshua.

You’d never really bothered to get to know your neighbors before, at least nothing past surface level.

Perhaps just this once, you could make an exception.

Over the next couple days, you continued to run into Joshua, whether it be at the mailbox or the store. You managed to chat with him each time and learned more and more about him. He worked in the entertainment industry but kept the details vague which you could understand for that line of work. You also learned that apart from being extremely good-looking, kind, and hardworking, that he was also very single and had signed at least a two year lease on the townhouse next door. Since it was just him, he’d turned one of the extra bedrooms into a home gym.

He seemed almost as interested in you as you were in him but despite the occasional flirting, he never really made a move. He also never said or did anything that made you feel uncomfortable and after a couple weeks of interacting with him, his inhuman qualities started to feel less shocking and the feeling of alertness or danger that had accompanied him started to dissipate into the background.

You knew he wasn’t human but that didn’t seem to bother you or anyone else around the two of you.

Nearly two months had passed by since Joshua had moved in. It was Friday which meant the weekend was coming up. Youngji was coming over as planned for dinner and Joshua had managed to catch you outside while you were getting your mail.

Joshua had started a new home project now that the weather was starting to warm up and you caught him in the middle of gardening. He was dressed in an old pair of jeans, the knees stained with grass and dirt, a plain white tee shirt, also smeared with bits of dirt tucked into his jeans and a dirty pair of work boots. He was leaning against the fence that separated your yards, a pair of gardening gloves on his hands, and a trowel in one hand.

You had been in the midst of conversation when you heard a car door shut and glanced out towards the street to find Youngji gathering her bag from the passenger seat of her car. She looked up as she reached the gate and her eyes went wide. “Youngji!” you said, waving her over. This was the first time she had come over while Joshua was out so this was the first time she’d ever seen your neighbor.

“This is Joshua,” you said as she let herself in, staring wide-eyed at your neighbor as she approached. Joshua removed one of his gloves and extended a hand for her to shake. She slowly took it, eyes still wide and staring at him, almost as if she were in a trance. Joshua seemed to have that effect on most people he met. She finally shook herself out of it. “N-nice to meet you,” she murmured, retracting her hand quickly after shaking Joshua’s hand a couple times.

The interaction seemed a little cold from your perspective. “Joshua’s started a new project,” you said, trying to break the tension that started to build between the three of you. “He’s built a flower bed here,” you explained. “What are you planting again?” you asked him directly.

Youngji listened silently as Joshua explained what he was planting in the flower bed before explaining the other plans for the yard he had. Throughout the whole thing, Youngji kept staring at him, occasionally glancing at you. Finally, you excused yourself and Youngji, wishing Joshua a good rest of the day and leading your best friend into your home.

Once inside and the door shut, you rounded on Youngji.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded as she kicked her shoes off and carried her bag over to the couch, dropping it on the cushion and sat down, covering her mouth with her hand. “Ji?” you asked, walking over to the couch. “What is it?”

Youngji looked up at you. “Do you have any idea who that was?” she asked. You nodded your head slowly. “Uh, yeah? That was Joshua. My new neighbor,” you answered. Youngji shook her head. “No,” she said. “I mean, yeah. He is your new neighbor but do you know who he is?” she asked. You stared at her, confusion spreading across your face.

“No?” you finally answered. Youngji let out a laugh, not of amusement but of astonishment. “Your new neighbor, the boy next door,” she started as she pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Is a porn star.”

Your stomach flipped at her revelation. “What?” you asked incredulously. “A p-porn star? No,” you said, shaking your head. “There’s no way. You have to be mistaken.” Youngji watched as you crossed in front of her to take a seat on the other part of the sofa. “He is,” she retorted. “He’s actually a really popular one. There aren’t that many alien porn stars out there,” she continued and you sat up, holding up your hand to silence her.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted. “What did you just say? A what porn star?”

Youngji stared at you, a deadpan expression on her face. “An alien one,” she finally answered. “An alien porn star?” you repeated before bursting into laughter. “How do you even know this?” you finally asked when your laughter subsided. You watched red creep up your friend’s neck and face. “That’s not the point,” she said nervously, fidgeting in her seat.

“The point is that your neighbor is a porn star from another planet.”

Later that night after Youngji left, you were sitting on your couch, a movie playing in the background but you weren’t paying attention. Your mind was elsewhere. You glanced over the back of the couch towards your office where you could see your computer sitting on your desk in the darkness of the room.

Your curiosity was peaked but you weren’t even sure if you wanted to act on it. You weren’t exactly afraid of what you might find, but more afraid that you would like it. Youngji hadn’t given you much to go on other than a link. You stared at the computer for a moment longer before sighing and getting up.

Entering your office, you grabbed your laptop and took it back to your couch, setting it on the coffee table and producing a pair of earbuds that you paired to the laptop. Grabbing your phone, you opened your texts with Youngji and typed the link she had sent you into the address bar of your browser exactly as it appeared in the text.

It took you to a dark webpage with three large electric green tentacles, curling up around a singular rectangular box with rounded corners. Glowing and dripping green text read the word enter with a little green arrow pointing to the right. You hovered your mouse over it, checking the link properly to make sure you typed it correctly.

“Just do it,” you whispered to yourself. You clicked on the arrow and the page seemingly refreshed. The page had changed and now you were greeted with the same black page, green tentacles and an empty box with a typing cursor. Glowing and dripping green text instructed you to type in a name before allowing you to continue.

You pondered for a moment. You could keep the name vague but something deep down in you wanted Joshua to know that you knew about his career in the entertainment industry. He’d been purposefully vague when telling you and now you knew why. Alien porn star wasn’t exactly a career you’d go around advertising. Smiling to yourself, you typed into the box and clicked the little arrow next to your new display name.

Immediately, you were met with the home page. It was like the rest of the website you’d seen so far. Dark background, glowing green text but instead of the three large tentacles in the middle of the page, extending up from the bottom of the screen, there were a bunch of smaller tentacles peeking out from around the edge of the browser.

At the top of the page was a banner with a logo for the name of the website. It read Xeno-rotic in that same glowing green text that dripped down. Under it were various navigation buttons ranging from ‘home’ to ‘contact.’ Under that was a small search bar with a little green magnifying glass. You started to scroll, checking out the home page.

It displayed a list of active streams, a thumbnail with the name of the stream, the user who was live with a little slow blinking green dot, as well as a small description and a little green eye icon next to how many viewers were currently watching. You scrolled down to the bottom of the page where a little simple white arrow pointed to the right, indicating a next page.

Instead of clicking, you scrolled back up to the top. When you reached the top of the list, it refreshed and a couple new streams showed up. Once of which was at the very top and quickly gaining a lot of viewers. You looked at the username and checked your text from Youngji. The username of the top stream matched the one she had sent you.

You mouse hovered over the thumbnail and for a moment, you sat unmoving, unblinking as you contemplated just closing the whole thing and pretending this never happened but your curiosity was too strong and you’d already come this far. Taking a deep breath, you clicked on the stream and waited with baited breath as the page loaded. It was a lot like the home page but instead of a list, you were greeted with an embedded video player. The screen of the player was black with a circular loading icon, a glowing green one.

Just as you were about to back out and close your browser, the blackness flickered away and you were greeted by the sight of a figure moving on screen. “Sorry, sorry,” a familiar voice said. “For those of you just joining, the audio cut out so I’m trying to fix that.” Your heart skipped a beat as your neighbor’s face came into view, from the nose up. He was very close to the screen but you could tell he was smiling just from the way his eyes turned into crescents.

“I’ll have it fixed in a second,” he added before disappearing. You could see below the video was a white chat box with black text. It was going crazy with chats from various users. Off to the side of the player was a small box displaying a few names with little alien icons next to them. Above the names was the same green text that read “supporters.” You assumed it was some sort of payment system. If you paid so much, your name was shown in that tier.

Joshua’s face reappeared in frame and he peeked over the edge of the desk his computer was sitting on. “How’s that?” he asked. His voice was clear and the video also seemed clearer. Several people in the chat agreed with your personal sentiments, applauding him for fixing the audio and video feeds so swiftly. Joshua chuckled as he stood up and you could now see he had changed out of his gardening clothes. He was wearing a black tee and a pair of light gray sweatpants.

The chat went absolutely feral over this revelation.

You watched with amusement as Joshua leaned in to read the chat. “Oh is that so?” he asked, raising a brow, a playful smile appearing on his face. “We’ve only just started, chat, and already you’re demanding I remove my clothes?” he continued, a teasing laugh leaving his lips, “At least buy me dinner, first.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at watching him banter with his viewers. It wasn’t unlike the way he teased and flirted with you. He was a natural at it. You watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes scanning the chat. “No, no,” he said softly. “It’s not out yet. It should be coming in the next couple months. We finished filming a few months ago. There was a lot of post production they needed to do before it’s ready,” he explained and you wondered what he was talking about and started reading the chat.

t3ntacleluver101: how was filming? It’s been a while right? knottyxbunny: hi shua! xen0ph1liac: i love you shua b34mmeupdaddy: beam me up daddy asstr0nut: will physical copies be released or will it only be available for streaming?

Based on the comments you could make out as the chat moved at lightning speed, Joshua must have finished filming something. He confirmed this as he answered some of the questions you had seen.

“No, it’ll be released for streaming first and then physical copies will go out to adult stores. You’ll also be able to buy it directly from the company website,” he explained, answering that question first. You watched as he reached up, scratching the back of his head. “Filming was different,” he continued. “It’s been a while since I’d been in front of a professional crew,” he added with a chuckle. “I’ve been doing cam stuff for so long that I got used to just being in front of a camera on my own. It was weird having to act again,” he continued stretching before leaning forward, resting his chin in his hand as he read more.

“I’m seeing a lot of familiar usernames,” he said with a smile. “Hi bunny,” he added. You watched his eyes scan the screen and assumed that he might have a list of all the viewers on his end. You watched his brows raise before a smirk came over his face.

“Here’s a few new ones,” he started. “Hi monster smasher sixty-nine, I hope I said that right. Here’s another, black hole bandit,” he read, letting out a chuckle. “Clever,” he continued. “He loves me not, with a k. Oh, a play on words. How cute,” he continued. “Scum lord four-two-one, I’m a monster for you, and…” he trailed off as he read the next one, his grin widening.

“Neighbor six-eight-three,” he read your username aloud and your heart skipped a beat as he looked into the camera. “Hello, neighbor,” he said and you swore he knew it was you. “Welcome to the stream everyone. I guess I’ve taken up most of the beginning of this,” he said sitting back in his seat, slowly swiveling back and forth as he continued to read the screen.

You watched as his hands moved and he did something with the mouse. “There,” he said, turning his head slightly. “Now I can see the chat and viewer list on this screen,” he said, sitting back once more. “For those of you that are new,” he started as he rested his hands behind his head, sitting back with his thighs spread, looking every bit as comfortable as he probably felt.

“I like to do things a little differently here. Most cam stars will only take suggestions from paying viewers,” he explained. “I don’t think that’s fair. So I will take suggestion and direction from paying viewers, of course, but don’t think that if you can’t pay, that I won’t listen to you as well. I want everyone to have a good time and enjoy the show,” he said with a smile. “It’s why I don’t charge an entry fee like some of the other stars here. I’m not shaming them by any means,” he continued.

“Everyone’s gotta do what they can to make money,” he added. “I just personally don’t like to do that.” You watched as he continued to swivel, turning his focus to the screen with the chat on it. “Oh come on now,” he said playfully. “Bunny, Xeno, Beam,” he said. “Be kind to our new guests. Don’t hog the chat. Remember what happened last time? I had to mute you because you wouldn’t stop spamming. Don’t make me do that again.”

A wave of heat washed over you, arousal shooting straight to your core at the sound of his voice. His voice was soft but his tone was very commanding and stern. Joshua lowered his hands, resting them on his thighs as he continued to read. You tore your gaze away from him to look at the chat as well.

b34mmeupdaddy: sorry alien daddy knottyxbunny: sorry. I’ll be good xen0ph1liac: just wanna express my luv ):

You heard Joshua chuckle and looked back at him. “It’s okay Beam, and you better Bunny. You know what happens when you don’t behave. I know Xeno, and I appreciate it, but we have six new viewers,” he said with a smile. “Don’t be shy, say hi, he encouraged. You watched as the others said hello and hi in the chat.

imamonster4u: howdy 🤠 heluvsmekn0t34: hi hi m0nstersmasher69: greetings scumlord421: yo blackh0leb4ndit: hey 👋

You realized that you were the sixth and you hesitated to type. Joshua noticed, the corners of his mouth twitching as he held back the urge to smirk. “Come on, neighbor,” he said. “You’re holding up the chat.” Your fingers hovered over the keys of your keyboard and you quickly typed out a response and deleted it before typing another in and pressing enter. Your whole body felt like it was on fire.

neighbor683: i don’t like being told what to do

You watched as Joshua sat up straight, leaning in to rest his chin in his hand, a smile spreading across his face as he read your message. “Oh, is that right, neighbor?” he asked, turning to look at the camera. “Don’t like being told what to do? How interesting.” The chat went wild, other viewers rushing to repeat the same words but Joshua’s attention was on the camera, almost as if he was staring past it and into your eyes. “I’ll have to remember that,” he finally said and pulled away.

He didn’t waste any more time as payments started coming in with suggestions as well as the chat asking him to show more, to talk, to do anything. You merely observed, watching as he gave a show, slowly moving his hands over his body until one rested over the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“You’ve been so patient,” he said, eyes flitting over to the chat but speaking to no one in particular.

Or so you thought.

“Wonder what I am, where I’m from, what I do,” he continued, his hand moving over his erecting and palming himself through the thick material of his sweats. “Wonder what’s under here,” he added, gesturing to his crotch. “I look human enough,” he continued. “But I’m far from it.”

You watched as he rested his head back against his chair headrest, his chest slowly rising and falling as his breathing started to grow heavier. “You wanna see it?” he asked, the hint of a smirk on his face. “Wanna see what I’m hiding under here?”

You could see the chat moving at hyperspeed as the viewers threw out their own suggestions and pleaded with him to take something off. His hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats and you could see a peek of his underwear. You watched his hand move under the material, no doubt fingers wrapping around his shaft and slowly starting to pump himself.

You were on the edge of your seat, eyes glued to your screen as you watched him, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips started to buck, fucking his fist a little faster. You watched as a large payment, some four figures, appeared on screen with a single request: show us.

Joshua let out a breathless chuckle, his free hand grabbing his waistband. “As you wish.” he said and you watched, lips parted in awe as he pushed his sweats and underwear down, pulling his cock free from the confines. Or what you could only assume was his cock.

Despite his eyes, the teeth, and the overall feeling that Joshua was far from human, he was still human looking enough that when you looked at him, you could justify that he was wearing contacts and had fake teeth but when you saw what he was hiding under his clothes, at least his pants, all justification of him being human was thrown out the window.

In his hand was something that resembled a cock, just not a human one.

The base of it rested against a slit telling you that whatever this was, it was retractable. Meaning it withdrew inside of him when not in use. The color of it was what threw you. The base, which was slightly bulbous, was a deep crimson. The shaft was veiny and quite girthy but it also had small ribbed like patterns that wrapped around.

As your eyes were drawn up the shaft, the color faded from the deep crimson color to a lighter, more pale red. When you reached the head, you finally let out a soft gasp. It was a very soft pink. The absolute tip of his cock was a darker pink. The head was pointed, almost like an arrow shape, the base of the head slightly flared. It was like nothing you’d ever seen before and would probably ever see.

From base to tip, it was probably a good seven inches, so it wasn’t massive but you were certain that it would definitely fill whatever hole he decided to put it in. You watched his hand glide up the shaft towards the head and noticed a small bead of a translucent, pink liquid, almost like a pink syrup, drip from the slit of his cock. ‘Precum?’ you wondered to yourself.

You watched as he gathered the viscous liquid and spread it along his cock, making his hand glide smoother. Joshua let out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to stroke himself, hand moving a little faster. It was a mesmerizing sight. The way his precum seemed to shimmer in the light of his room. You cou;dn’t seem to look away. As another bead of the pink precum appeared, you wondered what it tasted like.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers were typing into the chat. Joshua’s eyes opened as you hit enter and he slowed his movements so he could focus on reading. You watched as he lifted his head and stared at the screen with the chat on it. “Taste it?” he asked, curiously. He turned to look at the camera. You typed quickly into the chat.

neighbor683: have you ever tasted your own precum before?

Joshua let out a chuckle. “I have,” he said with a nod before turning to look at the camera. “Do you want to taste it, neighbor? You wanna come over and see what my cock tastes like?” Your thighs pressed together on their own, as if you weren’t in control of your body. You didn’t care about the rest of the chat at this point and you weren’t sure if Joshua did either.

neighbor683: how about you come over here instead

Joshua let out another chuckle, his hand moving up and down his cock again, spreading more of the precum. “You want me to come over?” he asked, his head falling back against his headrest again. “Want me to come over and fuck that cute, tight little human cunt?”

The chat was going wild over your interaction but you didn’t care as you typed another response.

neighbor683: do it. I dare you.

Joshua let out a moan, low and pornographic as his cock twitched and he came onto his stomach. Thick ropes of milky pink painted his golden skin as he continued to pump his hand up and down, making sure to get everything out. You watched, eyes wide and underwear sticking to you, as his chest rose and fell, his breathing erratic and heavy.

The chat was still going off when he finally opened his eyes and lifted his head. “I wasn’t expecting to cum so soon,” he said softly as he sat up and reached off screen for something, producing a few tissues which he used to clean himself off with. “I’ll have to take another shower,” he said with an amused smirk as he wiped his stomach and hand. His cock had gone flaccid and started to retreat back inside his body. He pulled his underwear and pants back up, hiding it from view.

“Let me wash my hands really quick,” he said as he got to his feet.

He disappeared for a few moments, all the while, you sat there, staring at your screen in disbelief as the chat demanded to know what was going on. You saw your username being thrown around a few times. Without saying anything, you closed the browser, your screen going back to your desktop. Wordlessly, you shut your laptop, got to your feet and carried the device back to your office.

Setting it on your desk, you glanced out the window where you could see Joshua’s yard, the small flower garden barely visible in the darkness. As you shut your blinds, you headed back out into the living room, not noticing the dark shadow that crossed his yard and hopped the fence.

As you grabbed your empty cup from the coffee table, you were unaware of the footsteps ascending your front steps. It wasn’t until three sharp knocks rang out from your front door that you knew someone was there. You looked up from the sink. Had Joshua decided to make good on your dare? Or was he here to reprimand you?

You hesitated before wiping your hands on a towel and walked over to the front door. You knew it was Joshua without checking and unlocked the door, pulling it open and bracing for impact.

There he stood on your porch, still dressed in the same sweats and black tee. As the door opened, he turned to look at you, those piercing yellow-green eyes meeting your gaze. Nothing was said for a moment before he took the chance to look you over, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, leaning against your doorframe. You swallowed thickly. “Look,” you started. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have watched—”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You looked up at him. “I… I don’t know,” you answered. “Are… aren’t you upset?” Joshua stared at you before letting out a laugh. “Upset? That my attractive neighbor now knows I’m a sex worker? No,” he answered. “And since you just sat there and watched from start to finish, I’m going to assume you aren’t upset?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “Good,” Joshua replied. “So, you still want me to come over?” he asked, his tone lowering. Excitement coursed through you at the prospect of seeing in person what you’d seen on your screen. “I uh,” you started. “Don’t you need some time to … you know?”

Joshua chuckled as he leaned in closer. “You’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he said. “I’m not human,” he started. “Give me like five minutes and I’ll be more than ready to go.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Do you wanna come back in five minutes or—”

“Just let me in and eat you out already,” he said with a smirk. You could feel your arousal pooling in your panties. “Besides,” he added as you stepped back, letting him into your home. “It smells like you could use some release.” You stared up at him in shock as he shut the door behind him. “Alien, remember?” he said, tapping his nose.

You watched him look around your living room. “Nice place,” he said with a nod. He looked down, meeting your gaze and neither of you moved or spoke for a moment. “So,” he started. “We gonna do this right here on the floor or you wanna show me to your room?”

Without any more prompting, you took his hand and led him up the stairs, leading him down the hall to your bedroom. Inside, you watched him look around curiously. “You can tell so much about a person by what they decorate their room with,” he said softly as he neared your bed, running the tips of his fingers over your bedspread.

You walked over as he turned towards you and let out a laugh as you pushed him down onto the bed, falling onto his butt with a bounce. “You’re so eager,” he said with a chuckle. You started to climb onto the bed, straddling his lap. “Just right into it, huh?” he whispered as your hands rested on his shoulders. You could feel his move up your back. “Have you watched any of my films?” he asked, his voice still soft. When you shook your head no, he smiled. “Good,” he said with a nod.

“I’d rather you didn’t have any expectations. The way I fuck in front of a camera is not how I do it off screen,” he explained, his hands sliding down your back and moving to your waist. “Do you have a safeword?” he asked, his voice still soft. “Cherries,” you whispered. Joshua reached up, cupping your cheek. “Good,” he replied. “Tell me what you like,” he continued, his hand sliding down the side of your neck, watching how you reacted, head tilting back slightly.

His fingers wrapped around your neck and you let out a moan as he squeezed gently. “Choking, got it,” he said, his voice slightly amused. “Anything else?” he asked, his hand sliding down to your chest and smoothing over your breast. “Dom-” your voice cut off. “What was that?” he asked. You licked your lips, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Dominate me.”

The minute the words left your lips, Joshua had done a complete 180, flipping you onto your back on the mattress and hovering over you. “Are you sure you want that?” he asked softly, eyes searching your face. You nodded slowly. “Yes,” you breathed out. “Take me.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else as Joshua’s lips crashed against yours, muffling a gasp as his hands wandered. He pulled back briefly. “Can I take this off?” he asked, gently tugging at your top. You nodded. “Take it all off, please,” you replied. Joshua chuckled as you pulled him into another kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

His spit was different from your own. Whereas yours was watery, his was thicker, more viscous. It had a slight taste to it. Something you couldn’t place. It was almost tangy but oh so subtle. Joshua’s hands pulled your shirt up and he broke away to pull it off entirely, tossing it aside as his eyes drank in your appearance. “I like this,” he murmured, fingers skimming over the black lace of your bra.

“But I’d like to take it off,” he added, looking to you for permission. You granted it with a nod and sat up, helping him undo the garment so he could slip it off and toss it aside. He guided you back down onto the bed, lips leaving a trail of kisses down the side of your neck to your collar. He continued, kissing down your chest, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue around one of your nipples before continuing on until his lips met the waistband of your shorts.

He lifted his head but before he could ask, you were shimmying out of both your shorts and underwear, tossing them aside. Joshua let out a chuckle as he placed his hands on your knees, pushing your thighs apart. His eyes swept downward, taking in your nude form until they settled on the space between your thighs, your arousal glistening in the dim light of your bedside lamp.

You watched as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips. “I could probably just slide right in,” he said softly. “But where’s the harm in having a little taste,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lowered himself onto his stomach, head between your legs. He pushed your thighs further apart, fingers digging into your flesh. “Just a little taste,” he repeated.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a soft moan leaving your lips as his tongue met your clit, dragging slowly over it. On the surface, his tongue looked a lot like a humans but now that you could feel it, you could feel what felt like millions of small spines, like a cat's tongue only on a much smaller scale. It felt incredible and each pass over your clit had your back arching off the mattress as you moaned loudly, the sound unrestrained in the privacy of your bedroom.

True to his word, Joshua only had a small taste, groaning against you as he lapped at your essence. When he pulled back, he sat back on his heels and tugged his shirt off, dropping it aside before also shuffling out of his pants and underwear. The same cock you’d seen on the live stream was barely peeking out of the slit but quickly pushed its way out.

Joshua glanced up at you, a smirk on his lips. “You wanna taste it?” he asked, drawing your attention. You looked back down at his cock before nodding, your eye watching the way the small bead of pinkish precum caught the light. Joshua swiped his thumb over the slit, catching the liquid and brought his hand to your face, offering it to you.

Opening your mouth, you stuck your tongue out and Joshua let out a low chuckle before smearing the fluid over your tongue. Immediately you closed your mouth, swallowing. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Most human precum was salty but this was almost… fruity. There was a distinct taste of fruit, maybe a berry but you couldn’t fully place it. One thing was certain tho.

It definitely tasted like it looked.

There was a dull tingle that accompanied the taste and it started where the precum made contact with your tongue but started to slowly spread across your whole tongue and soon your mouth. It slowly spread down your throat, into your stomach and extending further until it settled low in your belly. A heat started to radiate from your belly, spreading throughout your whole body.

Joshua watched as your breathing started to quicken, your heart hammering in your chest. Arousal started to drip down and seep into your bedspread. “What is that?” you asked, referring to the tingling heat. Joshua chuckled. “It’s a natural aphrodisiac,” he explained. “My species secretes it during foreplay to prolong intercourse.”

He leaned over, his fingers wrapping around your throat. “You still want this?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Then do exactly what I tell you,” he said before roughly rolling you onto your stomach. He pulled your hips back, pulling you onto your knees. You felt his hand on your back between your shoulder blades, pushing your chest down. “Stay just like that,” he said in your ear as he moved your arms under your head. “You might want to hold on, baby,” he added as he guided the flared head of his cock to your dripping slit.

You felt the pointed tip enter you and let out a gasp before the rest of the head of his cock followed, pushing into you with ease. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he slowly eased his way in, your walls welcoming the intrusion as he stretched them. You let out a long, low moan as he bottomed out, the bulbous base kissing your entrance and the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. How he even fit inside you was beyond you but it felt even better than you imagined.

Joshua gave you a few moments to adjust before he started moving, setting a slow, steady pace. He had a firm grip on your hips as he thrust into you, the base of his cock hitting your lips with a wet smacking sound. You let out a cry of pleasure as he thrust into you harshly, testing your limits. “Just as warm and tight as I thought, he groaned, picking up the pace.

Each thrust had your toes curling, stars clouding your vision. Pure, unbridled pleasure coursed through you, the aphrodisiac running its course and making you more pliant and increasing your arousal. Joshua’s strength and stamina was a surprise to be sure but he wasn’t human so it wasn’t all too surprising.

“You had a lot to say earlier,” he growled as he wrapped his fingers around your neck from behind and lifted your head, his chest meeting your back as he leaned over you. “But you can’t say anything now. Does it feel good? Do you like how my cock feels inside you?”

You could only mewl and moan in response which only further fueled Joshua’s monologue. “Have I already fucked you dumb, sweetheart?” he panted into your ear, pounding into you from behind. “So pathetic and dumb just from a little bit of alien cock? What a good human slut. Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, fingers tightening around your neck. You nodded wordlessly, still unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Gonna be a good girl and take it all?” he whispered, holding back a moan as your walls clenched around him. “Mhmm,” you moaned. Joshua let out a growl, hips slamming into you now. The base of his cock was trying to breach your hole and each attempt had you crying out in both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Be good and let me in.” With one final thrust, you came, tumbling over the edge as he managed to push the base of his cock into you, locking into place as he came, pumping you full of the same thick milky release you’d seen paint his stomach during the live stream.

“That’s it,” he mumbled as his cock twitched inside you, pumping even more cum. You let out a whine as you felt a slight ache from between your thighs. “Stay still,” Joshua murmured in your ear, his grip on your throat loosening. “Stay still, baby.”

A moan ripped from your throat as you felt the base of his cock start to swell. “What’s that?” you mumbled. You tried to push yourself up but Joshua gently forced you back down. “Just stay still, okay baby? Be good for me.” You did as he asked, receiving praise for your obedience.

After a couple more moments, everything seemed to stop. Chancing a glance downwards, you could see that your lower stomach was slightly distended. Swollen almost. “That was a lot of cum,” Joshua murmured, pressing a couple of soft kisses to your cheek. “But you did so well. Took everything I gave you.” You whined, trying to shift under him but he held your hips still.

“You can’t do that. We’re locked together. If you try to pull away, you’ll only hurt yourself or me. Just stay right there,” he cooed. “What do you mean, locked together?” you asked. “Remember the knot?” he asked softly. You shook your head. “What knot?”

“At the base of my cock is a knot. When I came, I pushed it inside you,” he explained. A brief flash of pain shot through you at the memory. You did remember that. “And then it started to swell,” he continued. “Well, now it’s swollen and locked in place. If I try to pull out, it’ll only hurt. So we have to wait for the swelling to go down before I can pull out,” he added.

You sighed, resting your cheek against the sheets. “How long will that take?” you asked as he gently caressed your thighs, massaging your muscles. “About an hour or so,” he murmured nonchalantly. “An hour?” you asked incredulously, lifting your head. “Mhmm,” he hummed. “About an hour and then you’ll need to go to the bathroom to get all of that out of you,” he added, reaching a hand around to press against your stomach. “And then we can go again,” he said with a smile as he nuzzled against your shoulder.

“I’m not done with you just yet.”

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

#keopihausnet #svthub #kvanity #ksmutsociety #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #joshua hong scenarios #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong fanfiction #joshua hong fanfic #joshua hong smut #joshua hong x reader

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novascharms · 1 month ago

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teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

word count — 2.0 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. a.n — sorry in advance lol DOUBLE UPDATE THOUGH masterlist

ten

friday february 7th

“i think we covered that part in the google doc, right?” you murmured, scrolling through the endless document on your laptop. the screen’s faint glow reflected on your glasses as you squinted at the tiny text.

“is it the budget allocation?” gisele, the student treasurer, asked, glancing up from her own laptop, her fingers still clicking through tabs. “like, everything surrounding the budget? because i did work on that a bit, so i might’ve done it. my laptop’s just being kind of weird right now.” her tone was distracted as she fiddled with a stubborn cursor.

“y/n?” danny, your vice president, called, breaking your focus. you looked up, brow furrowing as you noticed him, gisele, and annie, the secretary, all turning their attention to the glass wall on the left.

you followed their gaze and spotted your friends outside in the hallway. ivy was tapping her watch with exaggerated urgency while devon held her phone up, the screen flashing a clear reminder: you were ten minutes late for lunch.

“uh, okay. let’s wrap up,” you said quickly, your words stumbling over themselves as you closed the document. “if we didn’t cover the allocation, i’ll handle it… whenever. anyway, see you guys next week?” you forced a smile, trying not to let the stress seep through.

danny nodded, already packing his things. “yep, see you.”

“bye!” gisele called cheerfully.

“next week!” annie added with a wave.

you slid your laptop into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you hurried out. “hello!” you sang, pushing the door open with a grin. “sorry, i’m late.”

hazel immediately hooked her arm around yours, her touch warm and grounding. “totally fine, but we’re dealing with an absolute tragedy,” she said dramatically. ivy jogged ahead, spinning around to walk backward, her expression exaggerated.

“devon got a seven on that philosophy paper about perfection,” ivy announced, her tone as dire as if she were reporting a global catastrophe.

your brows shot up in surprise, and you turned to devon, who was covering her face with both hands. “what happened?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. “philosophy’s your favorite class.”

devon groaned, dragging her hands down her face in frustration. “i didn’t have time to do it properly. i literally worked on it like, minutes before the deadline.” her grimace was both sheepish and annoyed.

hazel chuckled softly, shaking her head. “guys, a seven isn’t that bad.” her voice was light, trying to soothe devon’s obvious distress.

she wasn’t wrong—it wasn’t bad at all. but for your group, used to skating the upper edge of every grading curve, it felt like a glaring anomaly.

"true," ivy added quickly, as though trying to lessen the blow. "hazel and i got an 8.5." she gave a little shrug.

as the group burst into the common area, you all found an empty spot to settle in. ivy dropped into a chair with exaggerated flair while hazel and devon slid into seats across from you.

"how much did you get?" devon asked suddenly, her voice curious but a little wary.

you shrugged, fishing your phone out of your bag. "i didn’t even know we got the results already," you admitted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you tapped into your school app. navigating to the grades section, you waited for the page to load, the spinning wheel on your screen adding a small sense of anticipation to the moment.

the room filled with the low hum of chatter around you, but your friends stayed quiet, leaning in slightly as they waited for your result to appear.

it all happens so fast that your brain can’t keep up. you glance up absently, just catching a glimpse of rafe as he passes by. his shoulders are stiff, tension radiating from every inch of him, his phone gripped tightly in his hand. a fresh black eye, dark and swollen, blooms angrily on his face, stark against his skin.

you barely process it. your gaze drops back to your phone, where your grade stares back at you: a perfect 10.

"i got a—" the words die in your throat as you look up again, frowning. your friends glance at you, confused as they pull out their lunches, but you don’t have the words to explain.

you toss your phone onto the table and push to your feet, already rushing out of the common area. "rafe!" you call after him as he disappears into the hallway. your friends’ voices follow you, but you ignore them, your focus fixed entirely on him. you’d explain later.

he doesn’t stop, doesn’t turn, just grunts over his shoulder, "not now." his voice is harsh, clipped—nothing like the easy, teasing tone he’d used over dinner with his parents a few nights ago.

"yes, now," you insist, quickening your pace until you’re jogging to catch up. you reach for his arm, grabbing it firmly, and he stops, though his whole body hums with resistance. "what’s wrong? what happened to your face?" your eyes scan the bruise, the deep purples and blues spreading in a jagged line across his cheekbone. it looks fresh, the kind of pain you can almost feel just by looking at it.

"nothing happened," he snaps, jerking his arm free and moving again. his tone is so dismissive, so cold, it cuts deeper than you expect.

but you don’t give up. stepping in front of him, you hold out your hands, planting yourself in his path. "rafe, that looks bad. did you ice it?" your voice softens, concern lacing every word as your eyes flick back to the bruise. you know it wasn’t there yesterday. you would’ve noticed.

his jaw tightens, and he lets out a sharp, frustrated sigh. "god, you never listen, do you?" his voice is raised, though not quite a yell, and the edge in it makes you flinch. the sting of his words sits heavy in your chest, but you bite down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let the tears brimming in your eyes fall.

for a moment, his expression shifts—his eyes soften, guilt flickering there—but it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. his face hardens, and he tries to move past you again, brushing you aside like you’re not standing right in front of him.

"no," you say firmly, shoving at his chest—not hard enough to move him, but enough to make him stop.

before he can argue, you grab his wrist and yank him toward the nearest classroom. he protests, his voice low and angry, but you don’t let go. the door creaks open as you push it, dragging him inside and letting it close with a soft thud behind you.

the air feels heavier now, quiet but thick with unspoken tension. rafe exhales sharply, his frustration palpable, but he doesn’t pull away. not yet. you steel yourself, determined not to let him shut you out again.

"tell me what happened," you demand, arms crossed tightly as you plant yourself in front of the door, your posture daring him to try and push past you. the determination in your stance feels flimsy against the weight of his indifference, but you hold your ground anyway.

"i walked into a door," he says flatly, perched on the edge of the desk with his feet casually propped on the chair. the sight of him, so nonchalant with that faint bruise blooming on his face, makes irritation prickle at your skin.

"rafe, who did that to you? why are you so angry? just tell me what happened," you plead, the words tumbling out in a rush as you try to chip away at the fortress he’s built around himself.

"no." his voice is clipped, cold, like a door slamming shut.

"rafe—"

"i said no." he’s standing now, his movements sharp as he strides toward the door. but you’re still there, still unmoving, still stubbornly waiting for the truth.

"move. right now," he orders, his voice low and firm.

"not until you tell me who did that," you insist, anger curling around your words.

"a door," he repeats, jaw tightening.

"rafe," you snap, your patience fraying.

"i don’t want to fucking talk about it!" he explodes, the sudden intensity of his voice reverberating through the room like a storm breaking.

"don’t yell at me!" you yell back, startled by his outburst, the sharpness in his tone cutting deeper than you expected.

he exhales roughly, dragging his fingers through his hair as he turns away, muttering under his breath. "oh my… fucking—"

"and stop cursing at me," you cut in sharply, arms crossing again as you glare at him.

he lets out a bitter scoff, a smile curling on his lips—one that’s anything but kind. "any more requests?"

"yes," you say, your voice steady as you meet his heated gaze. "tell me what happened."

"no," he growls, stepping closer. "now move, or i’ll move you." the warning in his tone is clear, but so is your refusal to back down.

"stop being like this," you blurt out, your chest tightening as the tension between you grows unbearable.

his eyes narrow, his voice sharp and cutting. "how am i being? huh? how the fuck am i being? exactly like you’ve been all week?"

the accusation leaves you reeling, and you frown, searching his face for the version of him you recognize—the one who wasn’t like this, who didn’t look at you like he was trying to break through you. "what are you talking about? i’ve been nothing but nice to you, and if it’s about the bonfire, i told you i was on my period—"

"yeah, and that’s fucking bullshit!" he shouts, his voice thunderous as he stares you down. "your flo app sent you a notification tuesday. you got your period wednesday."

the words hit like a slap, your eyes widening as your stomach drops. "you checked my phone?"

he shakes his head, scoffing bitterly. "i didn’t check your phone. i saw the notification pop up. and judging by the look on your face, i’m right."

he is right, and you hate that he knows it. you nod slowly, caught, but there’s a defiance in you that refuses to let him win this argument. "fine. i lied. whatever. i just—"

"no, no, not whatever," he snaps, his voice laced with frustration. "what happened that night? you don’t think i notice how weird you’ve been acting around me?"

his eyes burn into yours, hurt flashing behind the anger, and you’re standing so close you can feel the tension radiating off him. you’re paralyzed, unsure how to explain yourself, how to navigate the landmine you’ve stepped on.

"i’m not. i’m not being weird," you try weakly, your voice faltering. "nothing happened that night or any night."

"i heard you," he says, softer this time, but the edge in his tone is unmistakable. "i heard you on the phone sunday."

your mind races, scrambling to piece together what he might’ve overheard. the memory clicks into place—your conversation with hazel.

"and i don’t even need to ask if it was about me, do i?" he continues quietly, the bitterness in his voice replaced by something more vulnerable. "you promised someone you wouldn’t get close to me?"

you exhale, your shoulders slumping under the weight of his words. "rafe—"

"don’t fucking lie to me," he interrupts, his voice sharp, loud and unrelenting.

the heat of the argument builds again, the anger and frustration spilling over in waves. "stop cursing at me!" you scream, your voice cracking under the strain.

"stop pushing me away!" he roars back, his words echoing in the charged air. "why won’t you tell me what the fuck happened, huh? why are you acting so weird? why are you being so distant? and why won’t you just let me all the way in anymore?"

the silence that follows is deafening, the weight of his words settling over both of you like a suffocating blanket. he’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with the effort, and you’re frozen, your mind spinning.

his gaze locks with yours, raw and unguarded, and for the first time, the fight drains out of you. you don’t have an answer—not one that will satisfy him, not one that will make any of this better. you just stare back, feeling the enormity of everything unsaid pressing between you like a wall you can’t climb.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

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pboogerswbb · 2 months ago

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SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime.

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away.

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space.

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit.

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun.

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?”

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige.

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?”

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts.

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine.

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to.

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact.

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass.

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

“Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail.

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?”

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant.

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter.

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly.

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time.

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me.

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

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novalityy · 2 months ago

Text

No going back.

⋆·˚ ༘*🔭 In which a call is way more concerning than it seemed.⋆·˚ *🔭

Warnings *ੈ✩‧₊˚ - Blood, fighting, arguments, framing, crying, torture, taskforce 141 being mean, angst, comfort later.

Call of duty taskforce 141 x reader.

Hi, lol i'm back. Sorry I deleted my blog all of a sudden. I had to go for a long time, it's been a year? I'm going to rewrite the original story since i kindaa... deleted them..IM SORRY.

Blood trickled from your forehead, warm and sticky, as the dull ache in your skull pulsed with your racing heartbeat. The throbbing in your head was intense, but it paled in comparison to the crushing weight of betrayal in your chest. You groaned, instinctively trying to lift a hand to your temple, only to find your wrists bound tightly together. The rough bite of the restraints against your skin pulled you fully into the present. Forcing your eyes open, you took in your surroundings. The room was unmistakable—your base’s interrogation chamber.

Empty, save for you.

Your mind raced, piecing together the fragmented memories of how you ended up here. When you answered Price’s call this morning, this was the last place you expected to find yourself.

The morning had started innocuously enough. Your phone buzzed insistently, dragging you from the haze of sleep. Grumbling, you fumbled for it under your pillow, blindly swiping to answer.

“Hello?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

Silence.

You pulled the phone away to glance at the screen. Price. His name stared back at you, ominous and foreboding.

“Price?” you tried again, sitting up now.

His voice, when it came, was clipped and cold. “I expect you at the base in 30 minutes.”

Before you could respond, the line went dead. You stared at the phone, unease curling in your stomach. Price was rarely one for pleasantries, but the venom in his tone was unmistakable.

Shaking off the lingering fog of sleep, you swung your legs out of bed and padded to the bathroom. The mirror reflected the toll of your last mission—dark circles under your eyes, a faint bruise along your jaw. You sighed, splashing cold water on your face before pulling on a pair of blue jeans and a plain white shirt.

Breakfast could wait. The urgency in Price’s voice left little room for delay. Grabbing your keys, you locked up and drove to base, the gnawing anxiety in your gut growing stronger with every mile.

As you arrived, the atmosphere was palpably different. Conversations hushed as you walked past, and familiar faces turned away, avoiding your gaze. The unease in your stomach churned into something darker.

By the time you reached Price’s office, your nerves were frayed. Knocking on the door, you pushed it open and froze. Four men were inside, their expressions grim. Gaz wouldn’t meet your eyes, staring down at his feet. Soap’s usual easygoing demeanor was absent, his jaw set tightly. Ghost loomed in the corner, his unreadable mask doing little to hide the tension radiating from him. And Price… Price’s eyes burned with something you couldn’t quite name but feared all the same.

“So?” you asked, your voice wavering despite your efforts to keep it steady. “You called me here. What’s going on?”

Price exhaled a cloud of smoke, his cigar nearly crushed in his grip. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and dangerous. “Drop the act. Tell me everything. Now.”

Confusion twisted your features. “What are you talking about?”

Price’s response was immediate and explosive.

He slammed his hand down on the desk, the force rattling the items atop it.

“I AM NOT IN THE MOOD FOR GAMES, OPERATOR! CONFESS, AND I MIGHT SPARE YOU HALF OF WHAT’S COMING!”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Operator. Not your name. Whatever this was, it was serious.

You glanced at the others, searching for an ally, but found none. Even Soap looked away when your eyes met his.

“Please,” Soap said softly, his voice almost pleading. “Just tell him. It’ll be worse if you don’t, bonnie.”

Your throat tightened. “Tell him what?” you demanded, anger starting to edge into your voice. “If this is some sick joke, it’s not funny. I don’t know what you think I’ve done, but—”

The door creaked open, cutting you off. A young cadet stepped inside, tall and blonde, his sharp blue eyes locking onto you with cold calculation. Recognition flickered—you’d seen him around the base, but you’d never exchanged more than a few words.

Price gestured to him. “Tell her.”

The cadet’s voice was steady, rehearsed. “I have proof that you’ve been leaking critical intel to Makarov.”

The room spun. You stared at him, then at the others, waiting for someone to laugh, to call this out for the absurdity it was. But no one did. Instead, Ghost’s voice cut through the silence, cold and sharp.

“We believe him.”

Your gaze snapped to him, disbelief written across your face. “Simon…”

“Don’t call me that,” he growled. “We’re not that familiar anymore.”

The words were a knife to the chest. You turned to Price, desperation creeping into your tone. “Show me the proof.”

He slammed a file onto the desk. You snatched it up, flipping through the pages. The evidence was damning—emails, login records, reports. It painted a picture so convincing you almost doubted yourself. Almost.

But the dates didn’t line up. The locations didn’t match. It was sloppy work, something you’d never do if you were guilty.

You threw the file back onto the desk. “You seriously think I did this?”

“Yes,” came the unanimous response.

Anger and heartbreak warred within you. “You’ve known me for years! You’re taking the word of some cadet over me?”

Gaz and Soap stepped forward, gripping your arms as you surged toward Price.

“Let me go!” you shouted, struggling against them. “You can’t seriously believe this!”

Price’s voice was ice. “Take her to the room.”

Panic clawed at you as they dragged you down the hall. “No! This is a mistake! I didn’t do it!”

They shoved you into the interrogation chamber. Before you could regain your footing, a fist connected with your face, sending you sprawling. You looked up to see Ghost towering over you, his eyes like flint.

“Couldn’t even wait to strap me down?” you spat, blood dripping from your lip.

“You’re a traitor,” he said flatly. “If it were up to me, you’d already be dead.”

The words shattered something inside you. He hauled you up by your hair, ignoring your struggles, and strapped you into the chair.

Price entered, knife glinting in his hand. “Last chance,” he growled.

“I didn’t do it,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face.

The blade plunged into your thigh, and you screamed.

The betrayal, more than the pain, was unbearable.

＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚

MAN I STRUGGLED, i hope i did well....ty ly

#cod #taskforce141 #xreader #ghostxreader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost #soap cod #soap x reader #141 #soap call of duty #gaz x reader #price x reader #angst #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #soap mactavish #cod modern warfare

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ebsmind · 29 days ago

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⏾ SOMEWHERE IN THE HAZE, GOT A SENSE I'VE BEEN BETRAYED | jack hughes x singer!reader

summary : how y/n found out vince cheated the first time

word count : 1.3k

warning(s) : cheating (poor baby y/n ☹️), arguing, mentions of k wording Vince, Vince is a fucking asshole (sorry lol), crying (i hate to see my baby sad)

a/n : AHHHHHHH okay okay this is my first written part and I hope I did it justice bc as much as I love angst, it's hard to write it! anyways, I'm glad I decided to do this because it challenges me to not only go deeper for yall to understand reader it also kinda makes you see what she had to put up with (what the fuck vince) okay that's all I had to say! send me asks about this series bc I love talking about teehee OKAY BYE ILY

series masterlist

The stars glisten upon the midnight-colored skies. The clock that sits on your nightstand on the right side of the bed, has officially struck midnight, signifying a new day. You turn a page of the book you're reading, And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie, a re-read. The early January winds whip through the city of Seattle. Draped upon you is a lavender-colored fuzzy knitted blanket. Handmade by Vince's mom, Tracy.

In the far distance, you can hear the water leaving the showerhead; Vince is taking a shower. The thought of joining him crosses your mind, but you shake the thought away and continue reading. You go to turn the 129th page, but Vince's phone dings before the next page is revealed. It takes a small fragment of a moment for your eyes to find where it sits. Once you do, you make a B-line to its location. You don't notice how his phone was placed face down until you reach the dresser.

Your eyes burn holes into the back of the phone. The clock is ticking. The more time passes, the less time you have to decide whether or not you're going to snoop through your boyfriend's phone. Your internal dialogue fights between two actions: Pick up the phone and read the text messages waiting for a response, or ignore it and continue reading your book. The little devil on your right shoulder wins the battle.

Before you even think about any consequences if Vince were to catch you, you find your right hand already reaching for the phone. The screen illuminates your face, reflecting against the blue lenses that sit across the bridge of your nose. The first thing you notice is the time, 12:34 am. Who in the hell is texting him at this time? The second thing you notice is how Vince no longer has you as his lock screen. Instead, you're faced with a picture of him on a golf course with some of his buddies. If it weren't for the worry about who was texting Vince this late a night, you probably would have cared. The third and final thing you notice is the simple "D" that had given him a notification four minutes ago. You don't have to unlock Vince's phone to read the message, FaceID recognized your face the moment you picked up the phone.

goodnight, can't wait to see you tomorrow 💋

*one image*

Waves of anxiety hit you like a tsunami. You reread the text message over and over, thinking that it'll change every time your eyes scan the last half of the message. It's imprinted into your mind, no matter how hard you try, it will never go away. The thought of pressing the message to fully see the picture makes bile rise up in your throat. Knowing it most likely contained some type of nude picture. Whether it was a picture of some nice expensive midnight blue lingerie, maybe even clear water teal, or a picture of the girl's tits, it was going to taint you for eternity. You weren't stupid. Things like this happen to stupid girls, but not you. It couldn't.

You don't hear the water coming to an abrupt stop or Vince walk into the room until he questions what you're doing. "Why do you have my phone?"

Your head whips up to where Vince stands, at the door frame that connects his master bedroom to the master bathroom. His light caramel curls rest on his forehead, beads of water drip down his chest, and his right hand rests on the knot in the towel that's wrapped around his waist. You don't realize the tears that started falling just moments ago until Vince asks, "Why are you crying?"

The gut-wrenching sadness you once felt slowly simmers down and a deep rust color of rage clouds your vision. Without delay, you chuck Vince's phone at his chest and scoff.

"Why do you fucking think?" You wipe the tears that stream down your face with the sleeve of your cream-colored cotton long sleeve, mascara ruins the once-clean shirt. Vince contemplates whether he wants to deny or openly be truthful with you, he unfortunately chooses the first option.

"Babe, come on!" He looks away from the lasers that are practically coming out of your eyes. He knows deep down he's screwed.

"No, Vince! You fucking listen to me! You better be so fucking grateful that I leave first thing in the morning because I'd probably kill you if I didn't!" Lungs working overtime so you can get all of that out in one go. Vince still stands at the doorframe, he doesn't plan on moving anytime soon.

"Who is she?" The question leaves your mouth under a breath, afraid of the answer that might leave Vince's mouth.

"I'm not telling you that." It leaves Vince's mouth at lightning speed, but you move even faster. Your feet carry you rapidly to where Vince stands, once he's in arm's reach, your hands start hitting his chest. You switch between curling your hands into a fist and punching, to slapping his chest. Uncontrollable sobs leave the depths of your chest, and tears cloud your vision to the point where you can only make out the silhouette of the man you never would have thought would betray you.

"I lo-lo-loved you! An-and you d-d-do this to me?!" Your sobs interrupt your ability to say the sentence in one go. Your body finally begins to feel the heartbreak. Your chest and nostrils burn, your head finally starts to pound, and your legs start to feel like jelly. Letting the sobs control your body and legs giving out, you finally accept defeat.

Your eyes close and you start to drop to the ground, this is a fight you aren't going to win. You wait for your body to hit the ground but it never comes, instead you're met with Vince's damp hands on your arms. He steadies you, "Woah, hey there. You're okay I got you."

Wasting no time, you shove the 6'0 man off of you, and before he can say anything else you spit out, "Don't fucking touch me."

Vince puts his hands up in defeat, "Okay! okay, I won't." Following Vince's response, you dash your way to the front door. The professional hockey player follows hot in your trail.

"Hey hey hey! Where are you going?" He tries to grab a hold of your shoulder to turn you around, your reflexes do you wonder and you shove his hand with all the willpower you have left. Disregarding Vince's question, you take your purse and suitcase -which had been placed right next to the door after you finished packing before you got into bed.

"I'm staying at a hotel for the night." Exhaustion hits your body, a bed -not Vince's- sounds amazing right now.

"No, stay. You leave in the morning."

"I'd rather be in some cheap hotel than spend another night with you." The backhanded comment leaves the boy stunned, you take it as your chance to finally leave. You unlock the door and guide your suitcase to follow you out the door. Vince never intervenes. You don't even bother looking back when you slam the door in his face.

Adrenaline courses through your veins, it doesn't dissipate until you're sat on a hotel bed. The mattress is hard, but you've gotten used to it when touring throughout your career. You take notice that the comforter won't do you any justice during the night but that isn't the first thing that's disappointed you today. Tears that stopped falling start to pour again, your chest aches and your heart feels like it's missing. You take a moment to finally acknowledge everything that had happened 25 minutes ago, and once you forcefully come to terms with it, you fall into a deep sleep. Not noticing the 64 missed calls and messages from Vince.

#meet me at midnight series ⏾#jack hughes smau #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #vince dunn #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn smau #vince dunn x reader #ex!vince dunn #ebs writes things!#ebsedits ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ⏾

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hivemuthur · 1 month ago

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The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 10.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (we get a breather)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 6,2K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: Grab another, while I work on requests. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, which is why it's a tad dramatic. A lot of mysteries get uncovered :') I suppose I should add diva!Viktor to tags, lol.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

“Why do you look so pale?” Hale had been in the middle of explaining his plan to survive Christmas in Sheffield when he finally took a proper look at you. Pale was an understatement.

“I’m not pale. Am I pale?” you asked, stealing a quick glance at yourself in the train station mirror. God, you were so pale. And you felt sick—guilt had been gnawing at you ever since you’d closed the door to Viktor’s room behind you.

“I was going to tell you all about my foolproof plan for getting through Sheffield unscathed this morbid season,” Hale said, trying to steady you as you leaned against the platform bench, “but I can see I’ll have to come up with something to get you through the train ride first.”

You sank onto the bench, hiding your head in your hands. “Hale, I’m scum. I’m such a fucking wanker. You won’t even want me to survive this train ride once I tell you what I’ve done.”

“Alright, that’s a tad dramatic, even for me,” Hale said, his voice rising slightly as the train approached the platform. He slung your bag over his shoulder and propped you up by the waist to guide you toward your carriage. “Our ride is here. Come on, I promise I won’t judge.”

You sat opposite him by the window, the muted rumble of the train filling the silence between you. Leaning forward, your voice barely above a whisper, you recounted everything, every detail that gnawed at you. You told him about the kiss in the lab, your fallout over the misuse of the word ‘casual,’ Viktor’s text message, the vulnerable conversation when he’d helped you with your project, your night together—and the moment of sheer panic that led you to leave. By the time you finished, your hands were trembling in your lap, and your throat felt raw from speaking so softly.

Hale exhaled a long, heavy sigh, his eyes fixed on you. His expression was a mixture of worry and a certain resigned understanding, like someone who had seen this kind of mess unfold too many times.

You stared out of the window, your reflection a ghostly pale figure against the frosted glass. “I… don’t know what to do,” you murmured. “Should I text him? I should text him.” You fumbled with your phone, your fingers shaking as you unlocked the screen. But what would you even say? I’m sorry? The words felt hollow, almost laughable. A bitter scoff escaped your lips.

“Let’s not do anything hasty,” Hale said, reaching across the table. He plucked the phone from your hands with surprising ease, ignoring your weak protest. Sliding it into his vest pocket, he placed both of his hands firmly over yours. “Look, I admit this doesn’t look… ideal,” he said carefully, his tone steady. “But it seems to me like you had your reasons to do it, hm? Even if they were shitty ones.”

You groaned, leaning back in your seat, and rubbing your temples. “I think I’m having another stroke.” Your voice cracked slightly, a mix of frustration and despair. “The worst part is, he was amazing, Hale. I mean, he was his usual smug dick at first, but then he just... he gave it up. Mid-act if you catch my meaning.”

Hale arched an eyebrow, leaning closer with a look of exaggerated curiosity. “Do you mean to tell me that your magical pussy turned the sad fart into a nice person?”

“Hale, please, I am dying here,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Oh, hush. You are not dying,” he said, waving off your dramatics with a flick of his hand. “You’ve just managed to create a deliciously awkward situation for yourself. And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it now, so stop trying to fix it in your head.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “And what am I supposed to do? Just... sit here and wait for my shame to devour me?”

Hale shrugged, leaning back with an infuriatingly calm expression. “Here’s what I propose: we go home, endure the obligatory family nonsense, and then, after the festive madness is over, I will lay my noble sacrifice before the altar of Joanne’s suffering. I’ll take you to a pub, get you silly drunk, and we’ll figure out what the hell you’re going to do about Viktor then. Sound good?”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sigh, shaking your head. “You make it sound so simple.”

“That’s because it is. Now stop looking like a tragic Victorian ghost and try to relax for five minutes.” Hale grinned, nudging your foot with his under the table.

For the first time that day, you smiled. It was faint and fleeting, but it was there.

***

The obligatory festivities melted your brain. Joanne made a grand spectacle of your arrival, insisting on speaking Polish because she was ‘losing touch with her culture’ without you around. She also didn’t hesitate to comment on your ghastly appearance and, with her uncanny motherly intuition, immediately sensed there was heartbreak involved. However, seeing the deadly glare you shot her way, Joanne—against all her instincts—decided not to press the issue.

Your dad, Kier, cheerfully announced that you would be celebrating Yule the next day with 108 moon salutations. When you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly disappeared into the back of your skull, Kier simply added that it wasn’t a request. Still, he pulled you into a tight hug afterward and told you how glad he was to have you home.

Hale came to pick you up at 10 p.m., but Joanne insisted he stay for a drink. What started innocently enough quickly spiralled into a full-blown interrogation about why on earth he’d brought her daughter back in such a sorry state. Even Hale’s peace offerings of chakra-coded candles and a carefully curated bag of crystals, perfectly aligned with Joanne’s star chart, didn’t soften the onslaught.

You had to swoop in and evacuate him an hour later to avoid bloodshed. Hale, as usual, didn’t seem particularly rattled, but you knew better than to leave him to your mother’s merciless curiosity for a second longer.

When you strolled toward the pub where you’d spent most of your lunch breaks, it was buzzing with locals. “Ah, home sweet home,” Hale cooed, holding the door open for you to step inside first. It looked… exactly the same. Same posters, same battered stools, same scraped tables, same Britpop playing softly through the speakers. You didn’t even bother to scan the room; you simply hung your coat and marched toward your usual spots by the bar.

“You know, I meant it when I said we should all pack up together to go back for Christmas.”

Jayce’s smiling face suddenly appeared from behind you, freezing you mid-motion. Shit. Of course. You had completely forgotten.

“I’m so sorry! It completely slipped my mind,” you blurted, the words tumbling out too quickly as you leaned in for a quick hug—still rooted to your stool.

“Well, I’ll only believe you haven’t been trying to avoid me if you guys come sit with us,” he said, gesturing toward a table in the corner. Your stomach dropped. Two girls sat there, chatting. And… Viktor.

“We would love to,” Hale interjected smoothly, clearly catching on to your synaptic meltdown. “Let us just grab something to drink first,” he added with a wink at Jayce, draping an arm over your shoulders as the man returned to his table.

As soon as Jayce was out of earshot, Hale leaned in, his voice low. “Darling, I think we’ve got an emergency here. Do you want to run?”

“What? No! But…” you whisper-shouted, your voice tight with panic. “You said I had time!” You felt the clash of fight and flight warring in your chest, and judging by the lightness in your head, all the blood had drained from your face. “Hale, this is so bad. What do we do?”

“Relax. Breathe.” Hale’s eyes darted toward the table in the corner, then back to you. He straightened slightly, clearly piecing together an impromptu plan on the spot. His fingers drummed against the bar as if ticking off a list. “We have one drink, and then we say we need to get back to our families. Can you do that?” Seeing your mind clearly spiralling into overdrive again, he added, “Or we can run. I’m serious.”

“No. I can do it. I can do it.” The second time, your voice wavered, weakened. You could feel nausea climbing dangerously up your throat. You swallowed hard, forcing it back down. Gross.

You approached the table, your knees wobbling slightly beneath you as though they might betray you at any moment. Jayce stood up with his trademark beaming grin and gestured toward the two girls seated beside Viktor.

“This is my sister, Jane, and her friend, Ellie,” Jayce said proudly, motioning to each of them in turn. Jane was the perfect mirror image of Jayce. Tall, with sharp, angular features, she had the same broad smile and mischievous eyes that sparkled with a hint of trouble. Her hair, a shade darker than Jayce’s, fell in soft waves past her shoulders, the kind of effortlessly styled hair that looked like it was born from just a flick of a brush. Her presence exuded confidence, and the way she held herself, effortlessly poised, made it clear she was used to being the centre of attention.

Ellie, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more different. She was shorter than Jane, with a curvy figure that seemed to demand attention without trying. Her long, platinum blonde hair cascaded in waves around her shoulders, and she wore it like a halo, flirtatious and free. You had to hold in a sigh that was pushing itself onto your mouth.

Hale, ever the charmer, swept in with a flourish. “Hale Robertson,” he announced, taking each girl’s hand and pressing a quick kiss to their knuckles. “A pleasure to meet two such radiant young ladies. What have I done to deserve this?”

The girls giggled, charmed by his theatrics. You, meanwhile, barely managed to lift your hand in a weak wave. “Hi,” you mumbled, your voice almost drowned out by the background hum of the pub. You didn’t miss the way Viktor’s eyes flicked to you, catching every small movement.

Jayce pulled out a chair for you beside him, and you slid into it stiffly, grateful for the buffer. Hale claimed the spot to your left with an exaggerated flourish. The two seats flanking Viktor were already occupied by Jane and Ellie, who were deep in conversation with each other, oblivious to the tension crackling across the table.

Viktor sat back in his chair, his posture unusually casual—forced, almost. The faintest hint of a bitter smile ghosted across his face as he leaned forward slightly and said, “Hello, stranger.”

The words hit you like a sharp gust of icy wind. They burned through your ears, straight into your chest, leaving you momentarily breathless. You swallowed, forcing down the lump rising in your throat. He looked… tired. His face was pale, his golden eyes shadowed by exhaustion. But it was the way he carried himself that hurt the most—his every movement felt stiff, posed, like he was putting on a performance.

“What brings you here?” you managed to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

Viktor shrugged one shoulder, his lips twitching faintly as though trying to form a smile. “Jayce invited me to partake in his family’s ‘loving Christmas privileges.’ How could I refuse such an offer?” His tone was light, but the edge of sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable.

You opened your mouth to respond but found no words waiting for you. You stared at him for a moment, hoping he might read the apology you couldn’t quite bring yourself to say.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, the kind that seemed to grow heavier with every passing second. When Ellie’s voice cut through it, it hit you like a slap.

“Vik was just telling us about their PhD thesis, and I’d love to hear,” she placed her hand on Viktor’s forearm and batted her eyelashes at him, “more.” The sound of her voice almost brought your nausea back to the surface, and you had to gulp it down with a large sip of your beer.

The atmosphere at the table became tense as Viktor shifted, settling into his role of charming intellectual. His voice was smooth and measured as he began to explain the intricacies of their thesis, speaking in a tone that was both detached and effortlessly composed. His eyes, though, rarely left you. They hovered just long enough to make his smirk feel like a deliberate, calculated gesture. It was almost cruel, the way he played the part of the aloof academic, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that you deserved it. Every word, every glance, felt like a reminder of how far apart you were.

“...and, of course,” Viktor continued, his voice dripping with that subtle confidence, “the applications of our findings are endless, but it’s all theoretical for now, isn’t it?” His eyes flicked to you, his smirk widening just slightly as he watched your reaction.

Ellie, apparently smitten by Viktor’s charm, leaned in closer, her lips almost brushing his ear as she whispered something too quiet for you to hear. Your stomach twisted, and a sudden, sharp anger surged up within you. You couldn’t stand the sight of it—Viktor, playing the part so effortlessly, and Ellie’s obvious attempt at getting his attention.

Without thinking, you stood up abruptly, knocking your chair slightly as you muttered, “Sorry, I need...” You didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, you turned quickly, your feet carrying you toward the coat rack.

Hale, who had been watching the exchange with a growing sense of tension, shot you a look, so you mouthed a soundless ‘I’ll be right back’ in his direction. You had to get some fresh air, feel the cold on your skin to quiet the anger simmering beneath it.

You started walking fast, your breathing even faster, when suddenly you paused. Get your shit together. You stood outside the bar, looking around for a place you could hide in. Your arms crossed against the biting cold, your breath misting in the frosty air. The snow crunched beneath your boots as you stomped from one foot to the other, trying to shake off the anger at your own stupidity. Jesus, fuck this guy. You’re so dumb.

You didn’t get far before you heard Viktor’s voice calling after you.

“What the hell is wrong with you, do I have to chase you again?” he shouted. He was trotting behind you, his coat open and scarf dangling haphazardly from his neck, as if he’d left in a rush.

You froze but didn’t turn around. Your jaw clenched as you fought to hold back the rush of hot tears threatening to spill out. You had been feeling awful for leaving him the way you did, but now, seeing him here, so calm and composed, it felt like all your guilt had been for nothing.

“You know, I was feeling like shit for leaving you, but I see that you’re back on track, keeping it casual, Vik,” you shot back, your voice colder than the air around you.

Viktor stepped closer, the snow beneath his boots squeaking. “Well, maybe I was so fucking heartbroken after you left I had to look for consolation somewhere else.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, Viktor. Have a nice life.” Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.

He grinned, that familiar, frustrating look on his face. Without warning, he scooped up a snowball and tossed it at you, hitting you square in the chest.

“Did you just…” you sputtered, wiping the snow off your coat.

Viktor’s smirk deepened, but his voice indicated he was hurt. “I could slap you if you weren’t a girl.” Oh, he could do so much more. The anger raging in his veins was burning away all reason, and you could see the fire in his eyes, as if he could picture himself shoving you into the snow and pulling your hair. And the fact that he was so pissed seemed to make him even angrier.

You raised an eyebrow, a sharp laugh escaping your lips. You stepped toward him, your voice low but challenging. “Please, be my guest,” you said, fuming. “Maybe it would be a fitting end to whatever game you’re playing.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he muttered, frustration flickering in his eyes. Then, without warning, Viktor scooped up a handful of snow and shoved it right into your face. The cold hit you like an actual slap, and for a second, you just stood there, frozen in shock.

You wiped your face and, with a quick flick of your wrist, returned the favour, launching snow straight into Viktor’s face.

You were in it now. The snowball fight escalated quickly as you pushed and shoved, slipping and tumbling in the snow. It wasn’t even a proper snowball fight—you were just scooping fistfuls of snow and throwing it directly into Viktor’s face, while he tried to keep you at arm’s length and shove snow down your collar.

The two of you both fell over, rolling in the cold, until you managed to straddle him, holding a final blow in your hand. You paused, laughter bubbling uncontrollably out of your mouth, your arm dropping to your side as your body flopped on top of Viktor’s. He started shaking with laughter too, the ridiculousness of the situation settling in.

“Are you aware that you just beat up a cripple?” Viktor asked, wheezing, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Your laughter faltered for a second, but you quickly regained your composure. “Not my finest moment, I admit,” you breathed out, lying on top of Viktor. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice softening, though you were still smiling.

“No! Why the fuck did you leave me?” Viktor’s face twisted with frustration as he rolled over and shoved you down into the snow, his body heavy with emotion.

You stared up at him, heart pounding, your thoughts a jumble. “I… I don’t know, I just…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

“You just what?” Viktor interrupted, his voice hard, his weight pushing you further down. “Got distracted again? I really was fucking heartbroken.” It sounded so stupid, but he really was. The sinking feeling that had taken over him in the morning hadn’t left, even now.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to process what he was saying. You thought you actually believed him, because you were also heartbroken, and it made your chest tighten. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze as you both lay there in the snow. “I just—I don’t know what to do with you, Viktor.”

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the cold forgotten, the snow around you disturbed by the fight that had taken place just a moment ago. Then Viktor sighed, his breath ragged, and he lay down beside you, staring up at the dark sky.

You turned your head to look at him. “You really were heartbroken?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “And I still don’t know what the hell to do with it.” After a moment of silence, he tried to get up on his own, only to slump back down into the snow. “Can you help a disabled man up?” He held his hand out to you.

“Yes, Jesus, sorry about that,” you smiled sheepishly as you pulled him back to his feet.

“I started it,” he smiled under his nose, not letting go of your hands. The feeling of your hands in his already felt alien. He had already pushed you out of his mind; he had gotten rid of you. It made him angry how quickly you were crawling back into his memory.

You noticed how cold and frostbitten his skin was and frowned, your breath catching as you took in his dishevelled appearance. “Why aren’t you wearing gloves, Viktor?” The question hung in the air between you—the very same question he once used to ask about something completely different.

“I got distracted running after a fucking stupid, dramatic girl,” he said firmly, brushing the snow off your coat with surprising care. His movements were sharp, but there was a tenderness in how his fingers lingered, as if his body couldn’t quite reconcile the anger bubbling inside him with the desperate need for contact. As his hands lingered, he tugged you closer, his golden eyes burning into yours. The words came out rough, raw. “And fuck you. You don’t get to do that now, not after you left me.”

“Do what?” Your voice was quieter now, unsure. Your heart hammered in your chest, and your breath came in shallow, uneven bursts. Your head swirled with confusion, guilt, and a tight knot of fear, your hands shaking as you fumbled for control.

“You don’t get to play with my heart like that,” he said, his voice growing tight with frustration, a painful edge to it. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Play with your heart?” Your laugh was hollow, barely a sound, sharp and dismissive. You took a step back, your arms crossed against the cold as if it could shield you from the heat of his words. “What are you, a princess?”

“Yes, I’m a fucking princess!” Viktor snapped, his anger flaring up in an instant, but his eyes… his eyes softened just slightly, a vulnerability peeking through the cracks in them. “And you played me, and left me, after I literally begged you not to, which you also pointed out, and now I’m scared!”

Your throat tightened, your stomach a pit of dread, but you swallowed hard. “Viktor, I—”

“Don’t ‘Viktor, I’ me,” he interrupted, his tone harsh, but cracking. “I told you I know what it’s like. I know exactly what it’s like,” he moved closer again, leaning his face in to level with yours. “To have one special thing you keep safe and not let anyone touch it, because they might break it. You think you’re so cryptic, but I know you keep that one thing of yours close to your chest. I showed you mine, and you took yours away.”

The words hit you like another slap. The third one this evening. It was like getting scolded by a child. You broke my heart. I showed you mine, you took yours away. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Your chest tightened painfully, and you wanted nothing more than to reach for him, but fear held you back. You could feel the icy gap between you and wanted to seal it desperately.

“Fuck. Fine.” Your voice was barely above a whisper now, trembling and weak. “I… I had a fucking stroke. I convinced myself it would be the same as… always. And then I had a stroke, and I left, standing in the corridor for half an hour, trying to go back to my room.” And it was, in its entirety, the truth.

“Well, fuck that!” Viktor’s voice cracked, another surge of white-hot anger breaking through his composure. He clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to slap you and kiss you. “I would’ve made you coffee and probably fucked you again before Christmas, but now you will never know!”

“What do you mean now?” you asked, your voice wavering. Your hands reached out, but you hesitated, unsure whether you were holding onto him or pushing him away.

“I’m not doing that again,” he spat, the words venomous but soaked in regret. “We’re clearly catastrophic together.”

A jolt of panic rushed through you, and before you could stop yourself, you caught him by his waist, holding onto him with an urgency that surprised even you. You buried your face in his coat, your forehead pressing against the fabric, your heart beating like a war drum in your chest. “Viktor—”

“What would you do so I’d forgive you?” His voice was low, almost a growl, but there was an unmistakable hint of longing behind it. His body stiffened under your touch, and yet, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he hooked his arms over yours, caging you in.

“Are you fucking with me?” you asked, breathless, a bitter laugh slipping from your lips, though it was filled with more confusion than anything else.

“Maybe,” he murmured, his lips curving into a smirk, but it was tainted with truth. Truth being, that he was incredibly hurt, not that he was fucking with you. Maybe a little.

You raised an eyebrow, your tone sharp to hide the warmth rising in your chest. “Why are you acting like an emotional paraplegic all the time?”

He snorted softly, though his expression darkened. “I don’t think you are allowed to say that. And you will forgive me, but the last time is on you—I will remind you; you are the one who fled the crime scene.”

“Yes, I don’t think you are ever going to let me forget that,” you admitted with a small huff, kicking at the snow. “I deserve that. What about all the other times, then? The teasing, the torment? You literally eating my face like I’m a fucking water fountain in the desert, and then trying to keep it casual?”

Viktor winced, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way he avoided your gaze. “Jesus, I was giving you a way out. You really want to be with a guy with a cane?” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You were supposed to be a fling.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, your voice cracking slightly.

“No, wait,” Viktor said quickly, holding up a hand as if to stop you from storming off again. His face softened, though his words stumbled out in a rush. “I… I am very uncomfortable around you.”

You blinked, your fists clenched at your sides. “Viktor, I hope this is going somewhere, because I swear to God, I feel like beating you up again.”

“Be my guest,” he said with a crooked grin, his tone low and teasing. “It was kind of hot.”

“Don’t push it.”

Viktor’s grin faded as his expression turned serious. His voice dropped, softer now, almost hesitant. “Well… you make me… stupid. I think about you all the fucking time. I don’t even look for you but somehow I always find you.” He laughed despite himself as you only blinked at him. “You got me into going to the parties; in itself, it deserves a prison sentence.” His voice cracked slightly as he continued. “And in the morning when you left, I felt so… hollow. So… I am giving you a way out.”

You stood in front of him, your cheeks flushed from the cold—or maybe from the way he was looking at you. You let out a long sigh, your breath fogging in the icy air, and hugged your arms as if trying to hold yourself together.

“I’ll pass,” you said softly, the edge in your voice gone, replaced by something gentler. A quiet understanding painted your face as your lips curved into a faint smile. “I kind of want a… way in, rather than a way out.”

Viktor froze and just stared at you. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as his eyes searched yours. Finally, he gave a wry smile.

“It’s all fucking ugly there,” he said, his voice laced with quiet self-deprecation.

You took a step closer, the snow crunching beneath your boots. You shrugged lightly, your eyes never leaving his. “I’ll take my chances.” Your smile turned sly, playful. “And I like the cane. It’s kinky.”

Viktor’s jaw dropped slightly, caught between incredulity and exasperation. He let out a soft, breathless laugh, shaking his head. “I fucking hate you,” he muttered, but his voice betrayed it was, in fact, the opposite.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you in one smooth motion, his hands cupping your face as he pulled you into a kiss. It was fierce and unguarded, like all the emotions he had been holding back had finally broken free. The world around you—the cold, the snow, the biting wind—faded into nothing.

You melted into him, your hands gripping the front of his coat to steady yourself. You kissed him back with equal fervour, your mind racing, your heart pounding in your chest like it might burst.

Viktor’s arms hooked around you again, pulling you flush against him as you held onto his waist, your grip tight and needy. The cold air bit at your skin, but in that moment, the warmth between you burned hotter than any chill outside. His lips brushed against yours as he whispered the words, his breath mingling with yours in a heated exchange that sent shivers down your spine.

“You have to promise me you will never do that to me again,” he murmured softly, his voice a low, earnest whisper against your mouth.

Your heart raced as his lips barely touched yours, and you managed a small, teasing grin. “What, leave you all hot and bothered?” you asked, your voice thick with amusement. His lips twitched into a grin and he hugged you tighter, as if trying to choke the vow out of you. You sighed. “I promise I will never do that again.”

A small laugh escaped you, and then you met his gaze, eyes full of intent. “Promise you won’t do that again on your firstborn?” he asked softly, brushing his lips on yours.

You closed your eyes and whispered back, “I promise on my firstborn.” Not that you were planning to have any in the near future, but yes, he could have it.

His forehead still resting gently on yours, he whispered next, the intimacy of it wrapping you both in a cocoon of warmth. “Promise on your PhD thesis,” he said, voice quiet and serious.

Your laugh was light, a beautiful contrast to the intensity building between you. You rolled your eyes slightly but couldn’t help the sincerity in your voice. “I promise on my PhD thesis and thank you for having faith in me that such a thing will ever see the light of day.”

He chuckled softly at your response, but then his voice grew serious again, the affection heightening as he added, “Promise me on… my princess heart.”

You froze for a moment, your eyes searching his face, as though seeking the weight of his request. Your breath caught, the world outside of you fading into insignificance. His gaze was steady, unwavering. The silence stretched between you as you realised the depth of what he was asking.

Seeing your searching eyes, he murmured against your lips again, “You can have it if you promise on it.” He held his breath, waiting for your reply.

“I promise. On your heart and on mine,” you whispered back, your voice quiet and honest.

Viktor let out a long, relieved exhale and pulled your face to rest in the crook of his neck. “Good,” he breathed, a satisfied edge to his tone. “I almost had you kicked out, I’ll have you know.”

You tried to pull back slightly, a laugh bubbling out of you, but Viktor could feel your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?!”

“I was here first,” he said, a hint of smugness creeping into his voice. “You don’t get to make me miserable until the end of my PhD.”

You tightened your grip on his waist and inhaled him deeply. “You’re a fucking menace.”

Viktor’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in to kiss you again, this time deeper, firmer. “You bet your ass I am. So be nice to me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice full of satisfaction, as though he’d won some small victory. “I happen to have some very denigrating video material on you in my arsenal.”

“Viktor, what the hell?” you quirked your eyebrows, the worst kinds of ideas flashing through your head.

“Oh, none of that lot!” Viktor feigned mock offence, as if scandalised by the obscenity of your train of thought. Then, with a smirk, he added, “Though, it might be an interesting area to explore—ow!” He flinched as you smacked him on the head. “Technically, I am innocent. It was Jayce who committed the crime. I was merely… whispering into his ear while he did it.”

“Viktor, I am having the worst ideas in my head. Please spare me, or…” you whined, already preparing another fistful of snow in your hand.

Viktor raised his hands in mock surrender, huffing. “Alright! Do you remember Mel’s party?”

“Mel’s party? The one when you kissed me and then acted like an ass?” You paused mid-motion, your snow-filled fist dropping to your side as your mind began dissecting the events of that evening.

“Yes, yes, that one,” Viktor rolled his eyes. Mel had only thrown one party this semester; the clarification was entirely unnecessary. “Do you remember what you were doing before the party?” He smirked, his expression daring you to catch on.

“We were… cleaning the lab?” you replayed the evening in your head, slower than you wished. Then, the realisation hit you. “Oh my God.”

Viktor’s smirk bloomed into a fully-formed smug grin. You immediately wanted to wipe it off his face with every snowball you could muster.

“And you… recorded it? Viktor, you evil bastard! Where is it?!”

“You’ll have to ask nobleman Tallis, won’t you? Which means…” Viktor held out his hand for you to take. “You’ll have to come back to the bar with me.”

You ignored his outstretched hand completely. The force with which you stormed through the front door was enough to rival a dozen men. Viktor trotted after you, managing only a breathless, “Sorry, Jayce, she’s way faster than me,” as he entered the bar.

You were already looming over Jayce, leaning in close and whispering in a low, threatening voice, “Where is it, Jayce?”

“Where is what?” Jayce’s cheeks turned faintly pink at your proximity, though he had an idea of what you were talking about.

“The video. Show it to me, or I’ll have Mel take your head.” There was a dangerous glint in your eye, unrelenting.

Hale, seated nearby, leaned in with obvious interest. “Jayce Tallis,” he sang over the table, “have you done something… naughty?”

“The video? Oh… the video.” Jayce froze, throwing a questioning glance at Viktor, who had just pulled out a chair to sit next to you, abandoning his previous spot to Ellie’s disappointment.

“Look, I promise we didn’t show it to anyone,” Jayce pleaded weakly as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his gallery. He didn’t have to scroll far; it was in his favourites folder, nestled alongside funny pictures of Viktor sleeping during work hours and romantic shots of Mel.

You snatched the phone out of his hands, holding it inches from your face as you pressed play at full volume. Both Hale and Viktor leaned over your shoulders, eager to watch the masterpiece.

“Jayce, this is… atrocious,” you whispered, failing to suppress a grin at the shaky footage, muffled giggles, and snorts from Viktor and Jayce as they filmed.

“You weren’t joking when you said you were all of them at some point,” Hale mused, his eyes glued to the screen as a warm chuckle escaped him.

“It still eludes me how you’d use this to get me kicked out, Viktor,” you said, turning to him. Viktor’s face hovered close to your shoulder, his soft chuckle sending warm breaths against your cheek.

“Ah, you know… misuse of lab equipment, illegal gatherings. I could probably argue you were drunk while doing it. I’m very creative, you see.”

You could have kissed him right there for admitting he’d go to such lengths just to rid himself of you. Instead, you only huffed, a small act of defiance as his breath tickled your neck. “You are such a bastard.”

“Hmm, only if I care enough to be,” Viktor mused absentmindedly, clearly unaware of the two pairs of eyes fixed on him—Hale’s and Jayce’s, to be specific.

As the silence stretched uncomfortably, Viktor cleared his throat and took a seat next to you. “I believe that concludes our little misunderstanding, then.”

“Oh, hell no. I need this erased from my file, Mr. Tallis,” you said, handing the phone back to Jayce.

“Please don’t make it disappear. This is precious! I can send it to you and delete it from my phone but promise me we’ll watch it again in ten years,” Jayce pleaded. The thought of all of you still hanging out in a decade warmed your heart so much that you couldn’t suppress a smile.

“I accept your terms,” you stated firmly, a grin etched across your face.

“Jayce! You are leaving us defenceless! Exposed, even!” Viktor exclaimed, waving his hands dramatically as though the offence were truly grave.

“Oh, shut up, you warmonger,” Jayce retorted, pressing a hand into Viktor’s face with a laugh. “You can’t afford for me to lose my head, can you?”

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #the game of teaching body

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smieska-draws · 2 months ago

Text

Laplace's Spamton - 03

thumbnails almost done! I think I have the majority figured out... sorry for the constant scribbles, I have to otherwise I would be overwhelmed and stop lol (which are constantly in my thoughts, ough). What's fun about trying to visually tell a story with music is when the song's instruments align with whats on screen. My favourite being when melodies go up or down or around, theres a visual up or down or around happening too!

Most recent example I can think of is the Transcendental Cha Cha Cha music video: the melody goes down, the face goes down ; the melody goes up, the face goes up. Its a small thing but I love little details like that

...anyway. I always feels like a crazy person when this stuff goes through my mind all the time.. even more so if I try to explain it to someone ... i'm sorry

i just... put a lot of thought into it and it makes me vibrate that it needs to leave my brain i need to draw it out communicated visually, in this animatic essay, I will --

I've also been reflecting on the whole 'finished, not perfect' principle, to not be a perfectionist about things but mainly to encourage me to get it done, but I find that principle doesn't help too much personally...I've had a couple of things where I wished I spent longer on it (idk maybe its the point?) or in this case, I kinda want to amp up the animatic from sketches to something more polished because I know I'll be unhappy if I present it as sketches.........whiiiich is probably why I'm doing these little reports lol. To not be intimidated, even if I am just speaking into the void of tumblr.

#wip #deltarune #spamton #blue addison #fanart #sorry im not a fast one u_u;;

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kissforyouu · 2 months ago

Note

Sanrio jk and oc

Jk tries to braid oc’s hair since she can’t figure out how to do a fall French braid

“Baby, I need your help.”

You poke the lazy man’s bicep once more as he groans and turns around. He’s been on TikTok for hours. Lazy fuck. While you’re here actually making some motion, Jungkook’s been absorbed into his screen.

“Braid my fucking hair, cunt!” You slap the man’s back causing him to choke into his pillow.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry, Y/n. Let me.” He finally comes back into his senses and groans. Jungkook sits up on the bed, eyes following your hips as you sat on your vanity chair.

Your boyfriend stands behind you, staring at your reflection through the mirror.

Both of his palms are big enough to cover your cheeks (that are on your face LOL) as he squeezes the shit out of them while you whine about it.

“What do you want me to do?” His hand mindlessly caressed your chin while his remaining hand messed up your hair.

“Fall French braids.”

Jungkook breaks into a small laugh, “What? Fall? Uh,” he pauses for a moment before speaking again. “I don’t know what that is.”

You snicker a bit, guiding Jungkook’s hand that was laying on top of your head to the end of your roots. “Mmh, it’s okay. Can you try braiding it again? I can’t seem to get it right and it’s annoying me.”

“Baby.” He sighs, “if you couldn’t braid it, what makes you think I could?” He pinches your cheek.

“Besides, you should get a low taper fade instead.”

A what?

#ask : kmm #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader

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couldawouldashoulda50 · 1 month ago

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Do you think that at some point Loren would come across with William some of her old classmates or ex or ex-friends? People that were not the nicest to her and hurt her while they are out or something. They act all nice and sweet because of William. Nothing dramatic, but her old memories come back and she gets uncomfortable. William then comforts her.

A more precise way would be with Loren ex who basically screwed her over. They are at a restaurant or an event. William meets him briefly without Loren or himself knowing who he is. Her ex says he’s a fan or whatever. Then, Loren comes back from like the washroom or wherever she was and they are just the two together. And finally, they both see her ex together and it’s awkward and weird (obviously I don’t think anything drastic like a fight would happen because it’s out of character)

A/N - Well sweet Anon, I thought I was doing well at the 3k word mark. Then the 7k word mark happened....I had no idea this would turn out to be 11k words. Apologizing is definitely in my nature so I will start there - I tied another idea into the beginning of this and I just went with it never intending for it to be this long. There's a lot of layers here but it all leads to Loren's past seeping into her present through a group of (so-called) friends reaching out to her.

Trigger Warnings: **This recounts Loren's experience with her ex, who, by definition, is an emotional abuser. I have never written about this before and tried to keep it as a very high-level account of it**

18+ only. Contains profanity, smut (oral [fem receiving], intercourse [p in v])

Word count - approx 12k words (sorry again lol)

Loren was positioned comfortably on her side of the bed, her oversized socks half falling down her calves and her cropped cardigan slipping slightly off her shoulder. She had her laptop resting in her lap, her focus drifting between resizing an image and fiddling with the resolution. On the other side of the bed, William lounged on his back, his head on a pillow at the end of the bed and his feet near the headboard. His phone was in his hand, he appeared to be watching something but in reality his attention was entirely elsewhere.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her tonight—or really any time that she was near him. The screen of her laptop illuminating her face, reflecting off of her glasses made him beam from the inside out. It was clear to him that the more time they spent together, the longer he wanted her to stay with him.

On some level, from all the way back to the first time he kissed her—that moment now many months ago—he couldn’t imagine anyone else fitting so naturally in his space. Scratch that. Wouldn’t want to imagine anyone else. When they had to leave each other, it always impacted him more than he ever let on. He was head over heels for Loren, and he felt confident that she shared the same feelings for him. Their random introduction at an Easter Seals Skate truly became a rare gift of a deeply caring union between two people.

With all of these feelings, however, he knew there were things they needed to discuss before the future which he deeply desired with her could happen.

Loren could feel William’s lingering gaze from across the bed. She had only glanced at him for a split second, her eyes once again fixed on the laptop screen. “How ya’ doing over there? You’ve been quiet,” Loren asked gently.

William smiled, caught in the act. “Just thinking.”

Loren let out a soft laugh with a mock grimace. “Uh-oh.”

He chuckled but didn’t respond immediately, his eyes returned to his phone. Loren had appeared on a mid-day talk show in Toronto, modeling a local designer’s winter fashion line that was mix-and-match and budget-friendly. William re-watched the clip that was posted by the network.

“Were they nice to you—the women on the show?” he asked, holding up the screen of his phone showing her the clip.

She flipped her glasses up onto her head, pinning her long wavy hair behind her ears. She squinted at the screen, her lips curving into a small smile. “They were—everyone was very nice. I was nervous but then I realized it was just the same as trying on clothes in Chelsea’s closet.”

“Or mine—err, wait…no - that’d be more like a strip tease,” he said simply, and when she blushed and ducked her head shyly, his smile widened. He set his phone aside, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before changing his position on the bed. He laid next to her on his side with his pillow bunched under his head. “Can I ask you something?”

Her fingers paused on her keyboard. “Of course,” she replied, looking very attentive.

“Who do you talk to about us?”

The question caught her a little off guard. Loren paused for a moment, closing her laptop halfway. “Uh, well, Alice, for sure….a couple of other WAGs?. We actually don’t talk about you all that much—I guess I don’t feel the need to. And Kathy, she’s sort of my life guru—she has been for years. I think she’s the only one that I told about meeting you to begin with. I trust her—and she’s pretty much like a vault.” She tilted her head, studying him.

“What about your parents? Or your other friends?” he asked.

Loren hesitated. “I haven’t told my parents anything. It’s not that I don’t want to, or that I don’t trust them, but… it doesn’t feel like the right time yet. They’re enjoying their first winter as snowbirds, and I don’t want them worrying about anything that I’m doing up here.” She closed the laptop and sat it next to the empty glass of wine on the nightstand. “My friends - I have a lot of different friend groups, but everyone’s busy with their own lives—and even still, short answer? I wouldn’t be comfortable mentioning that we’re seeing each other.”

William nodded slowly. “So it doesn’t bother you that we don’t do, like, the Insta thing posting pictures of us being together or anything like that?”

Loren shook her head slowly and mouthed the word “No.” Despite the silence behind the word, he understood loud and clear how much she meant it. “I guess… I just don’t want it out there. I’m really cagey about opening up my personal life up online - who I'm seeing romantically…especially you.” Loren shifted to lay on her side facing William. “Is that okay?”

He pulled her into him, kissing her mouth and guiding her thigh over his. His blue eyes bore deep into her now racing heart at the vision that was his face.

His eyes remained connected with hers, his brows furrowing slightly. “Oh, yeah - no….I’m totally okay with that….it’s sorta my preference too.” William paused, his mouth hovering over hers, his sweet breath warm against her lips before continuing. “So, I was just watching this reel and I guess I wanted to know how you’d feel about a situation… as I kind of want to assume we’ll, uh… be together for a long time.”

Loren blushed at the thought. She tried to not react but a small smile curled at her lips.

Although his expression seemed calm, William’s stomach flipped with where the conversation was heading. “Prenups,” he said, watching her closely. “How do you feel about them?”

Loren was not expecting that one. A million thoughts bounced in her head, mainly wondering why he was asking, but she slowed her mind and decided just to answer the question directly. “If little ‘ole me, with my once shiny credit rating and trusting nature, could get fucked over so badly with my finances, then you, with your… what, a hundred million dollars? Even if it’s not me you are with in the end, you better make sure your future wife signs one… I’ll hunt you down and straight-up kick your ass if you don’t.”

Her bluntness mixed with his own nervous energy made him burst out laughing.

Loren grinned at him as she continued. “Seriously, though,” she added, “I hope you wouldn’t treat a prenup like a license to do whatever you want, but yeah, I’d absolutely sign one. Would you sign one for me if the tables were turned? I might be mega-rich all on my own one day.”

William nodded—first that he believed she could do anything she put her mind to, and second, he really would sign one.

“That’s actually where the question came from. I was watching something—like, the guy… he had money and assets, and he explained to his fiancée that he wanted her to sign one. She flipped out but then she inherited some money later. Then she turned the tables on him and demanded he sign one,” William explained. “I mean, I was just curious what you thought about it… not that I was worried about something like that with you anyway.”

Loren ran the back of her fingers along his jawline. “Well, obvious double standard going on with those two. But, personally, I have had too much experience in that department, William - it can get to be pretty fucking terrible. Whether it’s me, or the people that I care about, if you end a relationship—especially you—you need to have something in place, something that’s fair and just for both parties. It’s not that you want the relationship to end, or think that it will…” her voice trailed off.

William hesitated, his hand slipping under the waistband of her shorts, his palm resting warmly on her ass cheek. He wasn’t entirely sure why the thought had popped into his mind, but once it was there, he couldn’t shake it.

“So… here’s a question,” he started, carefully “We’ve been together now for a bit—like, really together this time. You’ve seen more of what my life is like, how crazy it can get. Is there any part of you…” He trailed off for a moment, leaning his forehead against hers for a moment. “Any part of you that doesn’t want this? That doesn’t want to do this life with me?”

The question hung in the air. Loren’s breath caught, and to her surprise, her throat tightened. She shook her head quickly, trying to blink away the tears that suddenly threatened, but it was no use. The sadness with that simple question overwhelmed her.

“Hey, hey,” William said, alarmed. He moved closer, cupping her face gently. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just…”

She laughed at herself through the tears, shaking her head. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just…” She dabbed under her eye with the back of her thumb. “The idea of it just hit me the wrong way,” she sniffed, scoffing at herself in embarrassment.

His heart clenched. He helped wiped at her tears with his thumbs, but his attempts to comfort her only made the tears fall faster, though now she was mostly laughing as well. “You have to stop,” she managed between sniffling and giggling. “You’re making it worse.”

William’s chest ached with love for her. He pulled her closer and held her tightly as her tears subsided. “Sorry William - that just caught me the wrong way… but I can’t help the tears sometimes, it’s just how it is with me.”

“You weren’t lying when you called yourself a puddle, eh?” William teased.

Loren’s words were muffled against his neck. “Lille lustigkurre,” calling him a “little goof” in Swedish. William playfully planted tiny kisses across her lips. He loved how seriously she was taking to learning Swedish, coming out with phrases he never taught her.

Loren’s tone turned apologetic. “But yeah, I wish I could control the tears more - used to drive my ex nuts… he’d go ballistic, as though berating me was going to help me stop crying.”

William’s body tightened, as he visualized Loren being screamed at while already being upset. His jaw clenched when he pictured dropping her ex with one punch to the mouth if he ever witnessed such a thing.

William pulled Loren’s body on top of him, her letting a light “whoop” followed by a giggle. He cradled her ass cheeks as she straddled him, propping herself up on her arms. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry she went through all of that but he also knew her response.

Thank you - but it’s done with now, she would say.

Instead, he would settle for making her know how much he desired and loved her. He pulled her mouth onto his, and in turn, she began to rub herself against his hardness.

“I guess I’m done my work?” she asked, cheekily.

He gripped her ass more firmly, pressing her against him.

In one swift movement, she sat up in a full straddle as he quickly unbuttoned her cardigan while she reached around and unclasped her bra. The moment his mouth and tongue made contact with her nipples, her core clenched in anticipation of feeling him deep inside her.

As if it needed to be said, Loren finally gasped, “Yeah, okay…. fuck it, I’m done.” A mischievous smirk played on her lips as she brought her mouth onto his, slipping her tongue against his in a steamy kiss. In Swedish, she teased, “Åh, du är verkligen i trubbel nu...” (Oh, you’re really in trouble now...)”

—

A few days later, Loren found herself in the kitchen at William’s place, the whir of the blender filling the air as she prepared smoothies and other healthy concoctions for both William and Alex. It was a routine she had adopted during her visits, one that Alex especially appreciated. Lost in thought, her eyes were fixed on the ingredients laid out on the counter—a mix of fresh fruits, leafy greens, protein powders, and supplements—she continued to smile to herself as she pressed the stop button on the appliance.

The morning had started the way she secretly (or not so secretly (despite clasping her hand over her mouth, her orgasmic moans were surely heard outside of the bedroom) loved most. She and William had indulged in a passionate quickie before getting out of bed to take the dogs for a walk. Standing at the counter now, her thoughts drifted back to the earlier moments, her lip catching between her teeth and cheeks flushing pink. The blissful soreness lasting in her core was a reminder of just how incredible it had been.

She shook her head, lifting herself from her own trance, and let out a soft laugh. Oh my god, I still want more she thought, her body still hungry for William. She inhaled deeply to try and calm her lingering urges as she reached for the jar of chia seeds.

A notification buzzed on her phone, pulling her attention away from the blender. Picking it up, she saw a DM on Instagram from someone she hadn’t thought about in a long time—a so-called friend from a group of women she used to spend time with when she was with her ex, Drew. The message was short, polite, and complimentary, but Loren immediately felt a knot form in her stomach.

Despite outward appearances, she had never felt particularly close to any of the women in that group. During her relationship with Drew, little by little, she had been steered away from spending time with her other friends, finding herself surrounded by people she couldn’t fully trust. Loren had always felt like an outsider, unable to fully be herself. Every group activity she attended left her retreating further into her shell as time went on.

The unwelcome memory of those years crept into her mind. She had spent so much time trying to be everything Drew wanted her to be, only for him to make her feel like it was never enough. The stress of that relationship had taken a toll on her physical and mental health. Food became a source of comfort in the lonely hours spent working all day, coming home, cleaning, and preparing nice dinners that Drew would often miss. When he finally came home, it was only to pick fights, leaving her feeling even smaller than before. The weight gain that ensued only fueled her feelings of low self-worth, to which Drew’s backhanded remarks also exacerbated.

Loren exhaled sharply, setting her phone down and shaking off the memories. Just as Alex walked into the kitchen, greeting her with a soft, “God morgon,” Loren muttered, “Fuck off,” under her breath, directing the words at the source of the DM she’d just received. She hadn’t heard Alex walk in and jumped slightly, startled when he responded, “Um… okay?”

[Loren practicing Swedish] “Oh—God, Alex… I am so sorry. God morgon—that other part wasn’t meant for you,” she smiled apologetically.

“Who’s in your bad books this morning? It can’t be my brother…” Alex teased.

Loren didn’t know if there was a whiff of ‘I heard far more than I wanted to this morning’ in Alex’s remark, but her soft smile remained constant as she handed him the vibrant mixture in a glass container.

“No, just a message from someone I haven’t heard from in years, and I have no real desire to interact with them,” Loren replied, her tone carrying a hint of tension.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” Alex inquired, gulping down some of his smoothie.

“A girl—a woman I used to hang out with years ago,” Loren began. “She said she saw me on that talk show and is gushing about how she’d love to meet up sometime. It sounds nice and all, but unless she’s done a total 180, I’m leery about getting together with her and the other women in the group.” Her apprehension was unmistakable as she spoke.

Loren would never dream of saying it to Alex, but Kayla, the so-called “friend” who had reached out, reminded her of Isla—Alex’s now ex-girlfriend—the day they first met. Snide, smug, and toxic were fair adjectives to describe parts of Kayla’s personality.

Alex, seeming rather invested in the story, stood at the counter as he prompted Loren to keep talking. William soon breezed into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Loren’s waist from behind, unintentionally interrupting Loren as he thanked her for his smoothie.

“Bro—she was talking,” Alex jokingly scolded William. “Here I was thinking there wasn’t anyone Loren disliked, but now I wanna hear this.”

“Who—wait… what’re we talking about?” William asked, confused.

Loren quickly replayed the conversation so he could catch up. He looked intrigued, as much as Alex seemed to be—this was a part of Loren’s life he had heard the least about, and he was about to find out why.

“So the deal with Kayla is that she sort of befriended me at a time when I was feeling pretty low in life - and in my relationship with Drew,” Loren began. “I was too embarrassed to admit to my closest friends and even my family of how bad things had gotten, so I leaned on her more than I should’ve. She pretended to care, but all the while, she was gossiping about me to everyone else in the group.”

Her eyes flicked between the two brothers as they listened. “Eventually, I realized that the things I told Kayla were then skewed and taken totally out of context, which would then get back to Drew through his friends. It was constant fighting and confrontations but then he’d back peddle and I’d fall into the same trap again. I think back and I don’t even remember the things he said that seemed to make everything okay. It was almost like being brainwashed.”

Loren sighed, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “So I was in a position that I had to move out of my apartment and Drew kept pushing for us to buy a house. It was one of the things I had wanted so badly but I could never afford it on my own. He had this whole song and dance about a big settlement he was waiting on from a past accident. It sounded believable—he even showed me paperwork. It started with him asking me to help him until it came through, and I did. I alone was approved for loans, opened lines of credit - he couldn’t do it because of his credit rating. I was so naive allowing him access. Then my dad cosigned for the house with me that had a cashback mortgage, and the money went into a joint access savings account. When he disappeared, I found out he’d drained everything with my name on it.”

William’s jaw tightened, his hands gripping the counter. This part, William already knew and it made his blood boil all over again.

Loren continued. “He had this whole scheme perfected. He made it look like he was trying to contribute, but in reality, he was still using resources from the last woman he conned. By the time he left, I had nothing but the house and a landslide of debt. That’s when I had to tell my parents. It was humiliating, but we figured out a plan to climb out of the hole he left me in.”

She took a breath, her voice softening. “Looking back, I should’ve seen it sooner, but I was so focused on trying to make things work. I kept convincing myself it was just a rough patch, that things would get better if I stuck it out. Thank God he left - but by the time he was through with me, with all the criticism and manipulation, I felt like I was just this shell of a person.”

She hesitated before continuing. “To make matters worse, there was another woman—Ashley—who I thought was a real friend. She didn’t seem to go along with the others, so I trusted her. I didn’t realize until it was too late that Drew and Ashley were secretly involved with each other. I walked in on them at a party—fucking in the bathroom.”

The kitchen was quiet enough to hear the white noise of the refrigerator humming. William sat frozen, a bottle of water halfway to his lips. He was seeing red listening to all of this, the bulging vein in his neck on full display.

Alex let out a low whistle, breaking the silence. “Well, holy fuck,” he said, shaking his head. “No wonder you’re not rushing to meet up with them - fucking soap opera.”

Loren chuckled and nodded. “Aren’t you glad you asked?” she nudged Alex playfully. Her eyes then settled on William’s face, his expression showing shades of disbelief of Loren’s story.

She eased up beside William as she began to gather her things to leave for an appointment. As usual, he wore nothing but his shorts and his slides, and Loren was quick to press her lips against the bare skin of his shoulder.

“So, on that happy note,” she quietly joked, “I better head out.”

Instead of his hold loosening, William pulled her body closer against him. “You’re coming back later, right? Before dinner, hopefully?”

She had been at William’s for the most part of the week and had intended on going home. But god, one look at his face….

She kissed where a trace of his smoothie lingered at the corner of his upper lip, then worked her way onto his full mouth. Mumbling against his lips, she said, “I’ll see you later. Let me know if anything changes for tonight, and I can go home.”

Alex, overhearing her last words, groaned and shook his head. “Please don’t. I can’t stand him looking so sulky and—” He rubbed his eyes and let out a mock whimper, chuckling as he glanced at his brother. As he padded off toward his bedroom, he called over his shoulder in Swedish, “Vi ses ikväll, Loren… ha en bra dag.” (See ya’ tonight, Loren… have a good day.) Glancing at William, he scoffed softly, chuckling as he disappeared down the hall.

“Sån åsna,” (such an ass) William muttered, shaking his head. His hand smoothed over Loren’s ass cheek as they started toward the door. “Anything you want tonight for dinner?”

“Food—and you… not necessarily in that order,” she replied suggestively, leaning in to give him one more lingering kiss for the road.

—

When Loren returned that evening, she got her wish—food and William, in no specific order—and the rare luxury of having the condo to themselves for the night (plus the dogs, of course). She glanced around the space, taking in his thoughtful touches: dimmed lights, candles flickering throughout, and the unmistakable tracks from one of William’s favorite playlists—entitled with their joint initials, “WNLG.” The slow, mellow songs had become their unofficial soundtrack, always leading to them being wrapped around each other before the second song was through.

After a coming-home kiss that made Loren melt, she slipped off her shoes and took in the warm ambiance William had created. He had wanted to do something for her after she’d shared the dysfunction from her past relationship. The gestures weren’t groundbreaking, nor were they born from pity or meant to erase her painful memories. They were simply a way to set the tone for their future together. And knowing Loren, candles, dinner, and him were all she needed to feel completely fulfilled.

He noticed the glossy white shopping bag dangling in her hand, his curiosity piqued. Hooking his finger into the top of the bag, he peeked inside, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. “Chocolate-dipped strawberries,” he said softly, with a smirk.

Loren brushed her lips against the warmth of his cheek. “I saw these, and they reminded me of Paris… and you.” Her lips traveled to William’s mouth, her words soft and full of meaning. The kiss deepened quickly, and the low groan that escaped him which made Loren press her thighs together.

Breaking slightly from the kiss, she smiled. “Let me get these into the fridge… I’ll be right back.”

As she walked down the hallway to the kitchen, her heart swelled with adoration. She shook her head and smiled to herself, still reeling from his intimate greeting. She honestly felt like she could float away with the way he made her feel.

When Loren returned to the living room, William was lounging on the couch, waiting for her. She knew William had a thoughtful and romantic side—it had shone through during their two weeks together in Sweden towards the end of the summer. But since the season had started, it wasn’t that his desire for romance had diminished… there just weren’t as many chances to be alone.

With the candles, the waiting dinner, the playful and often racy messages he’d sent her throughout the day, and the smoldering welcome she’d received tonight, it was clear William had seized this opportunity to have her to himself—and he’d nailed it.

Loren approached him and immediately saw the unmistakable glint of mischief mixed with lust in his eyes. He sat in his usual tank top, legs splayed in his black sweat pants and to Loren, there was no man on the planet that was as effortlessly sexy as William.

His eyes scanned her body and he had no qualms in letting her know how visually stunning he found her. “Is that what you looked like all day?” he asked playfully, reaching out for her hands and guiding her on top of him, straddling his hips.

She smiled at him and raised an eyebrow, and gently nodded. She was uncertain of exactly what he meant by his question, but knew it would lead to something that would make her heart, and other areas in her body, throb with wanting.

William’s palms slid upwards along the fabric of her white, buttoned down shirt, eventually smoothing over her breasts. He could hardly wait to see what bra she wore which contained her voluptuous tits as she started to unbutton her shirt. The worked together to shed her shirt and he groaned as he looked at the pristine white lace cups that supported her cleavage, right directly in his line of sight.

“I know I always say this but fuck - you’re fucking stunning” his voice raspy as he massaged her breasts and slowly kissed her neck.

Loren’s fingers raked through his hair, starting at the base of his neck and working upward, her patented move that never failed to arouse him further. Slowly, she rocked back and forth on his lap, her slow movement deliciously teasing. Her voice was soft, airy, and laced with a sensual undertone.

“And I always think, ‘So are you.’” She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “You’re seriously the most gorgeous man imaginable.”

With that, and in one fluid motion, he lifted her, guiding her onto her back on the couch as he knelt between her legs. His hands moved efficiently, unbuttoning her slacks and sliding them past her hips, down her legs, and off entirely. He paused for a moment, taking her in, reveling in the sight of her—this vision he had craved all day.

The stark white of her thong against her olive skin nearly sent William over the edge. He’d been picturing them in bed, sheets strewn everywhere for most of the night, but now, with the condo blissfully empty, every spot on the couch was fair game.

Without hesitation, William shed his sweats and shorts in one fluid motion. His arousal was evident, and Loren’s gaze drifted downward, she felt an instant urge to take him into her mouth. Before she could act however, William had other plans already in motion.

Gently, he propped Loren’s back against the cushioned arm of the couch, guiding her legs open as his hands skimmed down her thighs. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto hers. He had thought about her all day, resisting the urge to manually relieve the pressure she ignited in him countless times. Now, he could worship her - he was determined to make her feel every iota of his desire for her that had been building.

Wetting his lips, he lowered himself between her legs, his gorgeous gaze fixed on hers gripped her soul. His saliva dampened the small strip of fabric that was the only barrier between his mouth and her clit. The tip of his tongue soon slid beneath the band of her thong, and he began teasing her entrance with steady and firm movement.

Her hands instinctively flew to his, grasping at him for support. The thin gold band he had given her recently graced her delicate thumb, reflecting the low lighting in his periphery. The sight only spurred him on - little by little, he looked forward to adorning her body with his deep admiration for her in every way imaginable.

Loren’s hips flexed purely from instinct, rocking back and forth against the sensation of William’s mouth as he lapped and gently sucked around her clit. He was so incredible with his mouth, it was as if his on-ice prowess translated seamlessly to the art of making a woman writhe with pleasure. He knew exactly how to guide his lips and tongue to find every spot that made her body tighten and shudder in response.

She always tried to keep her volume low, her breathy moans whispering his name just loud enough to stir his own desire. But he could tell when she was losing control—the way her hands clung to his hair, her thighs trembling against his shoulders. He would risk a noise complaint just to hear her let go completely, crying out as loudly as she needed.

Loren’s grip under her one knee, holding her legs open for him indented her skin, the beds of her fingernails were white. “Fuck William” constantly spilled out of her in the form of the hottest sounding moans. Her hair was a beautiful mess - half bunched against the pillow and half dangling off the side of the couch as her head leaned back from the unbridled ecstasy he kept pushing her towards.

He could have spent hours between Loren’s legs but he knew that, as much as she loved his mouth, she loved his cock. He had begun teasing her about the way she treats Cowboy Bill, the name she dubbed his cock months ago, and how he has become a whole other entity that she worships in the bedroom. Lingham massages were now in Loren’s rotation of her favourite things to do and William was not complaining.

William licked and kissed his way up her abdomen, stopping to suck on each of her taut nipples, now so sensitive that she gasped out his name as she tried to catch her breath. She slowly lifted her head, her pupils looked as black as night as her eyelids weighed heavily from so much stimulation between her thighs.

William kissed her so deeply with so much passion, she thought she might faint. She wrapped one arm behind his neck and the other around his shoulder as he lifted her slightly to lay her flat on the cushions and reposition himself, aligning his cock with her entrance.

His voice was low as he murmured against her lips. “Tell me what you want…what will make you cum…”

Loren’s eyes zeroed in on his. She didn’t speak right away, her chest still rising and falling rapidly.

She kissed him and lightly raked her fingernails down his chest and up his flank - she knew that drove him berserk in all the best ways. With mere millimeters from his lips, she answered breathlessly “Anything - I just want to feel like you can’t get enough of me.”

Done. Sold. Exactly what I had in mind - because I really can’t get enough he thought, as he kissed her fiercely.

The second he pushed inside her, Loren’s breath hitched, her body reacting instantly as her walls clenched tightly around him. William groaned low in his throat, his head lowering as he paused, the thick chain around his neck dangling between them as he steadied himself.

He began slowly, each thrust steady, but for Loren, the depth and force of his movements soon had her gasping. With every roll of his hips, he pushed deeper, her body reacting to him, their physical and emotional connection intensifying with each passing second.

Loren’s hands gripped tightly onto William’s ass, her nails digging into his skin as she urged him deeper. Every nerve in her body was electrified, the pressure in her core building to an almost unbearable intensity. It felt like one long, sustained orgasm—her body couldn’t get enough of him, yet it almost felt like it was on the edge of being too much.

Hooking the back of her knee over his forearm, he pinned her legs open wider, the other leg draped over the back of the couch. With her completely open to him, he drove into her with dizzying force, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing through the room. The couch cushions recoiled beneath her with every powerful thrust, subdued cries and moans of pleasure filling the space.

As he pushed deep into her and held himself there, Loren’s body reacted instinctively. Her hips rolled up to meet him, her hands gripping onto his hips and ass as she fucked him back. The sight of her body moving so desperately beneath him made William groan low in his throat - she was pure magic and he was completely blown away by her.

He spat onto her clit, his thumb immediately finding the incredibly sensitive spot he had discovered many passionate encounters ago. As he stroked her, his eyes were drawn to the way her abdomen muscles flexed and contracted with every movement. He could feel his balls tightening, the heat pooling low in his stomach, but he didn’t want to cum yet—not before her.

Her movements began to slow, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. William leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “You’re incredible. So fucking amazing. You feel so good, Loren.”

With that, he lifted her effortlessly, repositioning her once more. Her legs pinned wide apart, he thrust into her again, his pace unrelenting. The sound of their grunts, moans, and strained voices reverberated through the room, mixing with the creak of the couch beneath them.

Loren felt the familiar, unstoppable grip of her orgasm taking hold. Her body tightened, her hands clawing at the fabric of the couch cushion as her head turned, pressing against the armrest. “Oh my god, William!” she shrieked, her legs trying to close instinctively as high-voltage stimulation jolted through her.

William grunted and strained loudly, holding her legs open firmly as he continued driving into her. The sight of her quivering body, her hand over her mouth and the sound of her moans was his undoing. He thrusted deep into her one last time, his release spilling into her as he collapsed onto her.

They stayed there for a time, their bodies tangled together, his cock still buried inside her as he slowly stroked her from within. Loren’s breathing was uneven, her limbs slack as she melted into the cushions. He knew how dazed and dozy she got after moments like this, and he couldn’t stop the satisfied smirk from spreading across his face.

Eventually, he rolled onto his side, pulling her with him. They kissed lazily, their bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat from their exertion.

It took a while before they finally moved, sliding off the couch and adjusting the cushions back into place. Loren noticed a few marks left behind from their sexcapade and made a mental note to clean up the spots later. The couch was soon to be replaced as part of the condo renovations, so the evidence of their passion would only be temporary, one way or another.

Slipping her white shirt back on as a casual cover-up, Loren wandered into the kitchen, where William was pouring two glasses of wine and setting their take-out containers in the oven to warm. He handed her one of the glasses and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close as his lips found the curve of her neck.

“Hungry?” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and tender. Loren nodded, her hand smoothing over the back of his head as he leaned into her.

Before long, the two of them found themselves slow dancing in the kitchen, swaying gently to the music still streaming through the sound system.

After a quick shower together and a change into more comfortable clothes, William and Loren found themselves back in the kitchen. Loren, now dressed in one of William’s oversized hoodies and a pair of soft shorts, leaned against the counter, her hair still damp from the shower. William stood close by, barefoot in sweats and a simple tee, looking completely at ease as he slid the lids off their warmed take-out containers.

Without a second thought, they began eating directly out of the containers, passing them back and forth with teasing smiles and playful nudges. Loren couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in her chest. To anyone else, it might have seemed unremarkable, but to her, standing there with him in their little bubble, this felt just as romantic as any candlelit dinner. Maybe more so.

Loren twirled a fettuccine noodle around her fork, pausing before bringing it to her mouth as a thought struck her. She set the fork down and looked up at William. “I really love this. I think I’d prefer this to any fancy dinner in the city. Everything about tonight has been so perfect… Tack min älskling.” She leaned in to kiss him gently, his arms wrapping securely around her.

William smiled against her lips before pulling back slightly. “I have to admit,” he began, hesitating as he searched for the right words, “the stuff you told us this morning—I’ve been thinking about it a lot today. Not in a bad way, but… how come I never knew about all that with your ex and those friends? Like… they’re seriously fucked up. I’m just a little surprised you’ve never mentioned it.”

Loren gazed at him, her smile soft and apologetic. “I never brought it up because, honestly, I don’t even think about it anymore. It’s like this blip in time that’s so insignificant now. It just… doesn’t matter enough to come up.”

William nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay… I get that.” He stabbed a rigatoni noodle onto his fork and offered it to her with a small smile. “But, uh… do you know if you’re going to meet up with what’s-her-face?”

Loren leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms loosely as she met his gaze. “I’m not sure. I don’t really see a reason to. Life’s been just fine without them. Honestly, I’m relieved they did me a massive favor by ending the whole faux-friendship thing we had going.” She reached for the wine bottle and poured the last of it into their glasses. “Do you think I should?”

William shrugged, his expression thoughtful. “Well… I mean, you owe them fuck all. But it might be interesting for them to see just how great you’re doing.”

Loren took a slow sip of her wine, considering his words. “I know you’re not saying I need their attention or validation, but… honestly? I couldn’t care less about that. On the other hand, if I go, I could see if anything’s really changed with Kayla or anyone else. If not, yeah, I might waste a couple of hours, but at least I’ll know where things stand.”

William tilted his head, his voice softening. “How about this—if you do meet them, don’t go to them. Have them come here. I’ll help you pick a nice spot. You meet up, and if you do it when I’m home, I’ll be there.”

Loren’s brows furrowed slightly, her expression caught between confusion and misgiving. “But—”

William shook his head, already anticipating her protest. “No buts. I’ll grab a spot—a table. I’ll bring some buddies, hang out nearby. You won’t even have to look at me if you don’t want to, but I’ll be close by. Just in case.”

Loren thought about it for a moment, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. Finally, she smiled. “I’ll think about it. And I guess if I get to glance at you once in a while… the night wouldn’t be a total waste.” She winked, clinking her glass gently against his.

The evening of Loren’s meetup with Kayla, Avrie, and Livia arrived in a flash after she had made arrangements the week prior. Following William’s suggestions, Loren requested the women make the 45-minute trek into the city, explaining she was swamped with meetings downtown. The highly-rated lounge William helped her choose, located on Queen Street West, was the perfect mix of cozy and eclectic—a beautiful spot for cocktails without feeling too pretentious.

Loren emerged from the bedroom into the kitchen, dressed in the outfit she’d carefully selected for the night. To her, it was simple—just a black turtleneck and pencil skirt paired with knee-high heeled boots. But to William, she was art in motion. With her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail and makeup applied flawlessly, she radiated effortless sophistication. A slow, wide grin spread across his face as he watched her move across the room.

“You look… wow,” he said, his voice warm and genuine.

Loren smiled softly, smoothing her skirt. “It’s just a turtleneck and a skirt.”

William chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not ‘just’ and not when it’s on a body like yours.”

The plan for the evening was straightforward enough. Alex and William, along with a few of William’s friends, would head to the same lounge about 30 minutes after Loren’s reservation time at 7:00. William had arranged for them to have a table nearby—close enough to keep an eye on things, but far enough to not be a distraction. The lounge staff, who were familiar with William from his years in Toronto, had no trouble accommodating their specific seating requests.

William’s primary goal was to be there for moral support without intruding, even if their carefully orchestrated plan made it feel like something out of a spy movie. Protecting their relationship in such a public space required a bit of strategy, but it was worth it.

There was also an element of playful mischief to William’s plan. If the women weren’t hockey fans, his presence might go unnoticed—but if they were, a well-timed bottle of champagne sent to their table by the Nylander brothers would surely make an impression. And if the moment called for it, William had no problem walking up, introducing himself, and appearing utterly captivated by Loren.

“Don’t stress about it too much,” William said as Loren checked her phone for updates. “It’s just a couple of hours, and by 9:00, we’ll be almost home, in bed by 10, and very satisfied by 11.” His smirk was down-right devilish as he leaned against the counter.

Loren cocked an eyebrow. “Or we can just cancel the potential shit-show and get started early,” she grinned. “Seriously though - William… thank you for sort of holding my hand through this part.” Loren walked up to him with a little seductive sway. “Can I eye fuck you a little from across the room?”

William chuckled. “Yeah - I think I’d be upset if you didn't.”

—

Midway through the second round of drinks—for everyone but Loren—Livia wrapped up her long-winded story about the drama swirling around her life over the past few years. Loren nursed her drink, smiling politely as she listened, all the while feeling a sense of detachment. Same group, same dynamics, same chaos. She realized that not much had changed for them since she left that part of her life behind.

Every now and then, Loren’s eyes flicked over to William. He was seated at a table across the lounge, laughing at something Alex had said. She caught him glancing her way more than once, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile that calmed her nerves. Meanwhile, Alex was keeping her entertained with a steady stream of messages, most of which were filled with playful commentary about her companions.

Alex: Which one’s Kayla? The brunette with the long straight hair?

Loren: really Alex…jesus. **

Alex: What - is she up for a little action. Want me to bring her back with us tonight?

Loren: I will fucking start adding estrogen to your smoothies if you do.

She bit back a laugh, setting her phone aside as Kayla turned her attention to her. “So, Loren,” she began, leaning forward in her seat. “What’s your deal these days? Are you seeing anyone?”

“And where are you staying in the city?” Livia chimed in. “It must be nice to be downtown so much.”

“Also,” Avrie added, giving Loren an exaggerated once-over, “you have to tell us how you look like this now. You’re glowing.”

Loren smiled, holding her glass delicately in one hand. Her answers were vague but polite, carefully crafted to satisfy their curiosity without giving them a single piece of meaningful information.

She was amazed at how easily she could wordsmith her way through their questions, a skill she hadn’t fully appreciated until now. These women weren’t interested in her happiness or growth—they wanted gossip, diet hacks, and anything surface-level that could fuel their next group chat.

Loren’s tolerance was wearing thin. When Kayla called over the server for one more round, Loren decided to ask what their plan was for getting home. “Are you guys staying downtown tonight?” she inquired casually.

Kayla and Livia exchanged an awkward glance before Avrie offered a sheepish smile. “Uh, so… Ashley is our ride. She, um, kind of found out about the plan to meet up with you and asked to come tonight.”

Loren’s stomach flipped, though her expression didn’t falter. “Really…where is she?” she asked, her tone perfectly even.

Kayla nodded, looking mildly uncomfortable. “She said she might not come in and would just wait in the car. We made her the DD.”

The last time Loren had laid eyes on Ashley was the fateful night that she walked in on Drew railing her against a bathroom counter. She was so fragile then and she remembered it completely shattering what was left of her.

Loren sipped her drink to steady herself, forcing her hands to remain still. So much for mending fences, she thought bitterly. They didn’t come here to reconnect—they came to pry, to gossip. The realization made her feel foolish for even agreeing to this meeting.

Glancing at her phone, she noted the time. 7:56 p.m. She decided right then and there: come hell or high water, she was out of there no later than 9:00.

As Kayla launched into yet another anecdote, Loren subtly tapped out a quick message to William.

Loren: I think you’re having way more fun than I am lol

William: Probably. Keep up the eye fucking tho. I like it.

She hid her grin at the response. She resolved to stick it out just a little longer—not for them, but for herself. Just to be 100% certain with knowing they were still the same as they always were, and that she had long rid herself of the petty and toxic dynamics that once surrounded her.

After Avrie wrapped up her own synopsis of what’s wrong with everyone else in the world, Loren suddenly sensed the energy shift in the room, like an uncomfortable presence. When she finally turned, there was Ashley—approaching the table tentatively, shoulders rounded and head slightly bowed. It was a stark contrast to the Ashley Loren remembered, the one who used to stride into rooms like she owned them, commanding attention with her confidence and beguiling smile.

Now, Ashley looked… tired. Her eyes were shadowed, her posture meek. Loren’s skin bristled, tension gripping her muscles, but she forced herself to sit still. I can do this. Leaving in less than an hour - I’ve already made it this far.

Ashley greeted the table with a faint smile, her gaze flickering over Loren and lingering for just a moment longer than the others. “Hey Loren,” she said softly, visibly taken aback by Loren’s transformation.

Loren’s phone vibrated against the table, pulling her focus for a moment. The other women had been periodically scrolling their phones, so she didn’t feel bad about checking hers.

It was from William.

You good?

Another message popped up almost instantly from Alex:

Who dat?

Loren suppressed a smile and quickly replied, dat is Ashley 😬.

Glancing up, she caught William’s eyes from across the room. He gave her a subtle, questioning look, and she responded with a slight nod and a small smile. They exchanged a silent conversation with just their expressions—an unspoken reassurance that he was there if she needed him.

The conversation at the table flowed, at least on the surface. It was amicable enough, but Loren could feel the tension simmering beneath each exchange. Ashley didn’t say much, her words carefully chosen, as if she knew she wasn’t entirely welcome. Loren couldn’t decide if she felt pity for her or if her wariness outweighed everything else.

Then, as if on cue, a server approached the table, balancing a tray of champagne flutes filled with vibrant, sparkling concoctions. “Compliments of the gentlemen at that table,” he said, nodding toward William and Alex’s group.

Loren’s cheeks flushed as her gaze locked onto William’s once more. He was watching her, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. Her bashful grin spread across her face, and she bit her bottom lip to stifle a laugh.

“Wait, what?” Avrie blurted, spinning in her seat to look at the men. Recognition dawned on her face almost instantly. “Oh my god, that’s William Nylander.”

Kayla turned as well, her eyes widening as she made the connection. “And fuck, his brother’s there too… Jesus Christ.”

Avrie, the same one who had spent twenty minutes earlier gushing about her “amazing boyfriend,” leaned in conspiratorially. “Given the chance,” she said with a sly grin, “I’d easily make myself single for one night - even one hour - with him.” She nodded toward William. “I wouldn’t think twice and I sure wouldn’t feel guilty about it.”

Loren’s mouth dropped inside her mind at the thought, but she didn’t let it show. She sipped her drink, silently enjoying their reaction.

The women’s chatter about how they’d “take down” the Nylander brothers grew louder, making Loren’s cheeks flush even deeper. But just as the conversation was hitting a crescendo, William rose from his table. Her eyes followed him as he made his way toward them, his confident swagger impossible to miss.

Her breath caught slightly as he stopped at their table. His voice was warm and polite, but Loren could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hope you’re all having a good night,” he said smoothly, nodding to the group. “And I hope you’re enjoying the drinks.”

The women looked stunned, their mouths slightly agape, but William’s gaze had already landed on Loren. He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I feel like I know you from somewhere,” he said, his tone tinged with playful sheepishness.

Loren raised an eyebrow, playing along. “We met briefly in March,” she said lightly, “the Easter Seals Skate.”

Recognition seemed to dawn on his face as he snapped his fingers. “That’s it. I knew you looked familiar. It’s good to see you.”

The exchange between them felt electric, as if no one else existed in that moment. The women at the table sat frozen, watching the scene unfold like a live tennis match. Although on the surface, their exchange was just polite banter—but their attraction to one another was palpable and electric.

Loren couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile that crept onto her face as William excused himself, flashing her one last look before walking back to his table. She glanced at the women, who were still staring after him, their faces a mix of shock and envy.

Well, that went better than expected, Loren thought, hiding her smirk behind her champagne flute.

Loren felt the weight of their collective gaze as their eyes locked onto her, the questions starting immediately.

“So… you know William Nylander?”

“Have you two slept together? What’s he like??”

“Is he single?”

“Have you met anyone else on the team?”

Their voices overlapped in a barrage of curiosity and thinly veiled prying. Loren stayed calm, her expression neutral, silently groaning over how shallow these women sounded. They were fishing for gossip just to pass along, feeding their own sense if superiority.

Loren began to respond to the questions as she remembered each one. “Well, like I mentioned, I met him in March,” Loren said simply, her voice even because it was true.

“It would be such a dream to be with him…like that…he’s a little out of my league though I think.” Again, Loren felt this was the truth…these have been her thoughts many times.

“It’s hard to know what’s truth and rumour - but I feel his career is his prime focus.”

“I’ve met a bunch of the guys on the team, the same way I met William….through a charity event that I helped raise money for.”

Her answers were direct, concise, and left no room for further interpretation. She smiled politely but didn’t elaborate, making it clear she had no intention of feeding their curiosity. The women exchanged glances, clearly unsatisfied but unable to push further without looking desperate.

“Well, that’s boring,” Avrie muttered under her breath, earning a light laugh from Kayla.

Loren sipped her drink, unbothered. This was their game - and she couldn’t have cared less.

A lull in the conversation gave Loren her opportunity. “Excuse me,” she said, standing and smoothing her skirt. “I’m just going to the washroom.”

She walked away, feeling their eyes on her back. Once she was out of sight, Loren pulled out her phone to text William to tell him he was absolutely amazing and to thank him again for being there. Before she could type the message, she heard the faint sound of footsteps behind her. She turned to see Ashley walking toward her, her steps hesitant and tentative. Loren’s stomach twisted, but she didn’t say anything, opting to walk into the washroom instead.

Inside the stall, Loren’s phone buzzed, a text from William:

Did Ashley follow you in? Don’t like this. Pls call me if anything feels weird.

Loren exhaled deeply, her nerves suddenly on edge. She tapped out a quick reply: She’s coming in but it’s ok I think. I will call if I need you. Thank you my love.

The sound of the washroom door opening, followed by a stall door closing echoed in the room. Loren wasn’t sure whether to feel uneasy or just annoyed. The quiet stretched, punctuated only by the occasional sound of flushing water or ripping toilet paper.

Finally, as Loren stepped out to wash her hands, Ashley emerged as well. Their reflections met in the mirror, two very different women bound by a shared, messy history.

Ashley’s eyes floated to Loren’s reflection in the mirror, then quickly away, as though she couldn’t hold her gaze for long. Loren’s movements were slow and deliberate as she lathered her hands, pretending not to notice the tension radiating off the other woman.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come tonight,” Ashley finally said, her voice soft, almost timid. “But I… I needed to.”

Loren’s hands stilled under the running water, but she didn’t look up. Instead, she grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands, giving Ashley space to continue.

“I wanted to tell you…” Ashley hesitated, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “I wanted to say how sorry I am. For everything. What I did to you… it still eats at me. You were the one of the most trustworthy - the most genuine person I’ve ever been friends with and I….well….I guess I don’t need to repeat what I did…,” Ashley’s trailed off.

Loren finally looked at her. Ashley’s shoulders were rounded, her once confident posture replaced with something that almost resembled shame. Her eyes, tired and brimming with tears, searched Loren’s face for any sign of forgiveness.

“I…” Loren started, then paused. She folded her arms across her chest, leaning slightly against the sink. “Ashley, I’m sorry this is something you still carry around…but it’s all in the past now - it’s been years. And yes, it was the hardest time in my life—and one of the lowest—but honestly, I’m beyond thankful for what happened.”

Ashley blinked, startled. “Thankful?”

Loren nodded. “It forced me to see people - to see everything as it truly was….Drew leaving, you ladies…well, I don’t want to drudge it all back up….but all of it, blessings in disguise.”

Ashley’s lips trembled as she bit down on them, nodding slowly. Loren could see the regret etched into her expression, and for the first time, she felt a sliver of sympathy..

Ashley exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m glad it worked out when he left you. Maybe the same will happen for me.”

Loren’s brows furrowed, confusion flashing across her face. “What do you mean?”

Ashley looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers. “Drew… after he left you, I stopped seeing him. He left for Alberta years ago but he came back and into my life about six months ago. I was so leery, but he seemed so different. Regretful. He charmed me, said all the right things, made me believe he’d changed. And for a while, I believed him.”

Loren’s stomach sank, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. “Ashley…”

Ashley’s voice wavered as she continued. “He hasn’t changed. If anything, he’s worse. Controlling, volatile… I can’t stand being at home with him. All I do is work just to avoid him, but even then…” Her voice broke, and she looked up at Loren, tears streaming down her cheeks. “But there’s something else. He’s been trying to figure out where your house is.”

Loren’s body tensed, her eyes widening. “What?”

Ashley nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “He saw you on that talk show, and then your online videos… he said he wanted to try to remember where your house is - so he could come by just to apologize for everything - but the neighborhood looks completely different with all the new houses that were built. I think it something that’s been really bothering him.”

Dread washed over Loren as her mind raced. Drew’s agitation, his fixation—it made her stomach twist into knots, a feeling that was still far too familiar and Drew was always the source of it.

Ashley’s voice cracked as she added, “I want - I - I think I need to get away from him, but I don’t know how. I don’t even know where to start.”

Loren steadied herself, forcing the siren going off in her head to quiet. She met Ashley’s tearful gaze and spoke calmly but firmly. “Ashley. Think of it this way: you have two choices. Either you stay and let him drain you until there’s nothing left, or you make a plan and get out.”

Ashley sobbed quietly, nodding but looking utterly lost. “I don’t know how - my mind is a mess….like all the time.”

“Do you have someone close to you that you trust? Anyone who can take you in, even just for a while?”

Ashley hesitated, then nodded faintly. “Maybe…”

“Then start there,” Loren said, her tone unwavering. “Pack a bag when he’s not around. Make sure you have money in an account with a bank card that he doesn’t have access to. Depending on how he reacts - and if he does react badly - keep track of everything. At least start a file with the police if it escalates - make them aware of what’s happening.”

Ashley wiped at her tears, nodding again. Loren’s heart clenched, torn between wanting to help, the flash thought of giving Ashley shelter popped into her mind - but she corrected herself quickly - she had to keep her own boundaries intact.

As they left the washroom, Loren’s mind was buzzing with everything Ashley had shared. Her thoughts came to a screeching halt, however, when she looked up and saw William at the bar—talking to Drew.

Her blood ran cold. Ashley froze beside her, her face pale. Neither of them had expected this.

William’s smile disappeared the moment he saw Loren and Ashley reenter the room. The way she looked - her jaw clenched and her eyes scanning the bar - he knew something was up. He looked back at the man he’d been casually chatting with moments earlier. The man’s expression had turned dark and menacing. William gut instinct was that it was Drew sitting there. He felt the tension radiating off Loren even as she kept her composure as best as she could.

As the women moved closer to the bar, Ashley leaned in close to Loren, her voice trembling as she spoke under her breath, “He must’ve seen my messages. I—maybe he took my phone while I was asleep?”

Loren whispered a simple “it’s ok” as a response.

Instead of acknowledging Drew, Loren’s focus zeroed in on William. She offered him a polite smile and softly thanked him. “Thanks for the drinks. It was nice to see you again.” The undercurrent in her tone was clear—she wanted to leave.

William caught on immediately. Without a word, but with a smile to acknowledge Loren’s appreciation, he turned back to the manager and finished up their conversation. He thanked him for his help and made arrangements to cover both Loren’s table and his own. As William prepared to return to his table, he glanced at Drew, who lingered at the bar, pretending not to notice their exchange. “Have a good night,” William said tersely, his voice just loud enough, then muttered motherfucker under his breath as he walked away.

Drew, sensing the shift in the air, seemed to pick up on the silent watchfulness of the bartender and the manager. He remained at the bar, his earlier boastfulness noticeably absent.

Loren and Ashley returned to the table, where Kayla, Avrie, and Livia stared at them with mild shock on their faces. Loren, remaining composed, offered only a dry half-smile. “Well,” she said lightly, “I think that’s my cue to leave.”

The cattiness that usually was so prevalent in the group wasn’t there; even they couldn’t argue against Loren’s decision to leave. The server arrived with another round of drinks for the remaining three women and a virgin concoction for Ashley, announcing that the bill had already been taken care of. Loren reached for her coat, and while quickly slipping it on, she realized so happy and free she felt. She really had no ties to any of these women, or better yet, no ties to the narcissist of a man that was once in her life sitting at the bar ruminating about all the cunts in the world that cause him problems.

She pulled a small wad of cash from her purse and left it on the table. “A little extra for the server,” she said, knowing full well the others wouldn’t follow suit.

She wished the ladies well but before turning to leave, Loren put her hands on Ashley’s shoulders and leaned her head down. In the softest, most discreet tone, she said, “Take care of yourself. And if you have no other options… reach out. I’ll try to help.”

Ashley’s eyes filled with something that looked like a mixture of shame and gratitude. She nodded faintly, her lips trembling as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Loren didn’t spare another glance in Drew’s direction as she slipped through the lounge doors and out into the crisp night air. The crowd inside shifted easily to fill the space she left behind, and within moments, it was as though she was never there.

While Kayla was quick to start the proceedings and grill Ashley demanding to know what all was said in the washroom and at the bar, Avrie had a Swede on her mind. She swiveled in her seat, scanning the room for any lingering signs of the Nylanders. “Do you think they’re still here?” she asked, her neck craning to search the space.

The answer came quickly enough. Their table, once occupied by William, Alex, and their friends, was now empty. The servers were already clearing it for the next group of patrons. Whatever hopes Avrie had for an illicit encounter with William vanished as she turned back to her drink with a pout.

Meanwhile, Loren and William were in the backseat of his friend Mark’s SUV, with Alex sat in the front. As Mark drove toward the condo, Loren sat quietly holding William’s hand looking out the window at the exterior lights of the many bars and restaurants in the area. The chatter from Alex and Mark in the front brought her mind back, a mix of disbelief and adrenaline fueled their commentary about the events of the evening.

“That’s unbelievable that you were just standing there, chatting with some random guy,” Alex said, shaking his head. “And it turns out to be him - the douchebag.”

William’s grip on Loren’s hand tightened slightly, the tension in his shoulders beginning to become bothersome.

Mark chimed in with a low whistle. “That guy - sorry Loren - he’s a real piece of work, though. You could just see how much of a piece of shit he really was.”

Loren finally glanced over at William, her hand slipping onto his thigh. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice filled with meaning.

William glanced at her briefly, his features softening. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured. “I just want to get you home.”

The rest of the drive passed in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. As Mark dropped them off, William’s hand found Loren’s waist as they walked in, giving it a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, she felt the weight of the evening begin to lift. They were all safely back in the warmth and comfort of the condo, with Pablo and Banksy anxiously waiting for their return.

Later that night, with the dogs softly snoring at the foot of the bed and the city quiet outside their windows, William and Loren lay tangled together under the covers. Loren rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing patterns along his abdomen.

She’d just finished recounting her conversation with Ashley in the washroom, and William’s hand absently ran up and down her back as he listened. When she was done, he shook his head, letting out a low groan.

“I think you need to cut all ties,” he said bluntly, though the softness in his voice made it clear he wasn’t being critical. "And - fuck, I don't feel right about you being alone at your house. Even if that motherfucker can't remember which one his your house, that shit really bothers me. We'll look at getting one of those camera systems, okay?" William paused and then began to tease. "Jesus, I mean, I thought my friend group in Stockholm had its fair share of drama, but your ex-life? It takes the prize.”

Loren chuckled softly, her breath warm against his skin. “With Ashley, I would only help her if she had absolutely no other options, William. I’m not about to jump back into a situation that isn’t mine to fix.”

William tipped her chin up with his fingers, his lips brushing hers. “What is it you always say?” His voice was quiet, teasing. “Not my—?”

Loren smiled, kissing him lightly before finishing the sentence. “Not my sink, not my dishes.”

William laughed, his chest rumbling against her cheek. “I’ve only ever heard ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’”

Loren tilted her head, pretending to ponder this. “Oh right - that’s the better one,” she admitted before her lips twitched mischievously. “How about ‘Not my pig, not my farm’.”

William smirked, leaning down to kiss her again. “Ok….’Not my...’?” He paused, clearly stumped as his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck - I got nothing.”

Loren further countered with “Not my cow, not my pasture.”

William let out a groan of mock defeat, rolling her onto her back and hovering over her. “Okay, well now you’re just showing off.”

“Maybe,” she teased, her hands sliding into his hair as he kissed her deeply. “Don’t you love it when I get all showy?”

“Showy….maybe,” his voice low and playful as his lips trailed down her neck. “You wanna show me something?”

Loren giggled, wrapping her arms around him. In that moment, the weight of the evening dissolved entirely, replaced by the laughter and warmth of a man that she was deeply in love with.

I hope you enjoyed this, Nonnie ❤️

#william x loren #william x loren blurb #william nylander fic #wn88 imagine #william nylander imagine #alex nylander imagine #william nylander fanfic #william nylander smut #my anon asks #toronto maple leafs imagine #william nylander #nhl fanfiction

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simplygojo · 5 months ago

Text

Care Between the Chaos

Author's Note: Hey y'allll, guess what I'm doing...preparing for a super important job interview!! So guess what I wrote...? Pretty boy Suguru Geto taking care of the reader while she preps for a super important interview!!! LOL at this point I cannot deny the projection allegations. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this sweet oneshot. I LOVE Y'ALL SO MUCH <3

Also, as always, request are open and encouraged! Here are my request guidelines if you're interested, there are also some prompts on there if you need inspo!

Pairing: Modern AU!Suguru Geto x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Your heart will feel super warm and fuzzy...lol

The golden light of the late afternoon sun had long since surrendered to the deepening twilight, and the harsh, artificial glow of the desk lamp now lighted your room. Your desk was a chaotic battlefield of papers, textbooks, and highlighters, all surrounding your overheating laptop in the centre.

Every surface was cluttered—each corner of the room seemed to reflect the mounting pressure you felt. The soft hum of the old pot lights above you constantly reminded you of the hours you had spent, and the hours yet to come.

The minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness as you pored over your notes, trying to grasp every detail and nuance needed for your important job interview. Your eyes were gritty from staring at the screen, and your mind was clouded with anxiety.

You took a deep breath, trying to focus, but the weight of the impending deadline felt almost unbearable.

This job was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and you did not intend on screwing that up. You had been preparing for about a week, but with less than 24 hours until the interview, you felt as if nothing you did was enough.

The door to your study room creaked open, and your lovely boyfriend, Suguu Geto, stepped inside. A visible concern accompanied his usually effortless charm as he observed the disarray of your office. He moved quietly, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on you. The sight of you hunched over your desk, surrounded by the chaos of your preparations, tugged at his heartstrings.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, his voice a gentle balm against the relentless noise of your stress. His tone was soothing, almost musical, meant to cut through the fog of your anxiety. “How’s it going?”

You glanced up briefly, your eyes tired and red-rimmed. “It’s going alright,” you murmured, your voice lacking its usual vibrancy. “Just a bit more to do before the interview.”

Geto shook his head, a small, understanding smile playing on his lips. He placed a wooden tray on the edge of your desk, positioning it delicately beside your chaos.

You hadn't even noticed him holding the tray as he walked in. It was a thoughtful assortment of comfort foods: freshly baked chocolate chip cookies with their edges perfectly golden, carefully cut slices of fruit, and a neatly wrapped sandwich. The sight of it was like a warm hug for your weary soul.

“Take a break,” Geto said, his voice carrying a tender authority. “You’ll need more than just caffeine to get through this—eat something y/n.” He said, moving to stand behind you, placing his large hands gently on your shoulders after running his fingers through your hair. You reached for a cookie, the rich, sweet aroma providing a momentary escape from the relentless pressure.

The gooey chocolate and soft dough offered a fleeting but much-needed distraction as you bit into it. You closed your eyes for a moment, savouring the taste and the comfort that came with it. “Mmmmm…This is delicious, Suguru.” You said as he leaned down, placing a loving kiss on the top of your head. You smiled softly and tilted your head back to look up at his pretty face.

“I will eat, I promise, you’re so sweet for this…but I can’t take a break right now, baby. I’m sorry.”

Geto watched you with a soft smile, his heart swelling with affection. He saw the tension in your shoulders, the furrow in your brow, and the way you continually rubbed your tired eyes. He knew that a simple snack was only the beginning of what you needed. “Do you need me to help with anything?” He asked, but he knew the answer you were about to say. “Sorry, but now, I just need to keep preparing.” He nodded and planted another kiss on your temple before leaving you to continue your interview prep.

—

The hours passed slowly, the light from the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. You continued working, your focus wavering as fatigue began to take its toll.

As if on cue, Suguru entered the room, carrying a soft blanket and a hairbrush, but you did not notice him as your face was buried in your computer screen.

He draped the blanket over your shoulders, its softness immediately providing a sense of comfort as you turned your head quickly to meet his gentle gaze. As he tucked it around you, he noticed the tension in your posture. He gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch both soothing and affectionate. “Mmm…thank you, baby.” You cooed, letting your body relax under the warmth.

“You should take a break,” he suggested again, his voice soft yet firm. “You’ve been at this for hours. I hate to see you so stressed.”

You shook your head, “I can’t stop now,” you protested weakly, your voice a mix of determination and exhaustion. “There’s still so much to do, and I don’t wnat to waste tim-.”

“Nonsense,” Geto countered before you could finish your thought with a playful firmness. “You need to take care of yourself too. I’m here to help.”

With that, he pulled up a chair behind you and began to work on your hair. His fingers were skilled and gentle, moving with practiced ease as he untangled the knots with his hairbrush and began braiding your hair. The rhythmic motion of his hands was both calming and intimate, each touch designed to ease away the stress that had accumulated from your long hours of work.

As he worked, you could feel the tension in your head and shoulders slowly melting away. The sensation of his familiar touch, combined with the warmth of the blanket was a welcome relief.

Your thoughts began to drift and your eyelids fluttered shut, momentarily distracted from the relentless pressure of your preparations. The soft, rhythmic motion of his hands was like a lullaby, drawing you away from the stress and into a state of calm.

Suguru’s was focused on making sure you felt cared for. He knew that even the smallest gestures could make a big difference in how you felt. His thoughts were filled with a mixture of concern and affection as he continued to braid your hair, each movement designed to bring you comfort.

Suguru’s attention to your needs was instinctive. He knew that even the smallest gestures—a touch, a word—could make a big difference.

His love was quiet, expressed not in grand gestures but in these moments of care, where he sought to lighten your load without taking anything away from your independence.

After finishing the braid, he leaned forward, his warm breath brushing your skin as he kissed the crown of your head softly, lingering just a moment too long.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered, his lips grazing your temple before planting another tender kiss on your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

His words, gentle and sincere, filled the room like a warm, protective aura. You smiled despite the exhaustion weighing down on your body.

A part of you wanted to surrender to his care completely, to let him whisk you away from the burden of responsibility. But that determined part of you—the one that had carried you this far, wouldn’t let you rest just yet.

You turned in your chair to face him, giving him a tired but appreciative smile. “You’re too good to me,” you murmured, reaching up to cup his face. “But I can’t rest, Suguru. Not yet.”

He chuckled softly, the low sound reverberating through his chest as he held your gaze. His dark eyes were filled with warmth, a reflection of the depth of his feelings for you.

“I think you deserve a break,” he said, placing a soft kiss on your lips this time. His kiss was slow, delicate—enough to tempt you into abiding, but not enough to fully pull you away from your tasks.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world outside of the two of you seemed to disappear.

“Stay here,” you whispered, though a teasing smile played on your lips. “But… let me finish. Just a little longer?”

Geto sighed theatrically, though the fondness in his gaze never wavered. “You are impossibly stubborn, you know that?”

You chuckled, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “I know. But that’s why you love me.”

He smirked, leaning in for one more kiss, this one a little firmer, a little more insistent. It was a kiss that promised more, but also one that said, I’ll wait.

“You’re right,” he murmured against your lips. “That’s exactly why.”

With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Geto reluctantly pulled away, though not without one last, lingering look that left your heart fluttering. He straightened up, his hands trailing down your arms as he rose to his feet.

“I’ll be in the other room,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with the unspoken promise that he’d return if you needed him.

You nodded, biting back another smile as you turned back to your work.

The desk lamp cast its warm glow over the papers once more, but this time, the weight on your shoulders felt lighter—knowing Suguru was there, just a room away, gave you the strength to push through.

You sighed contentedly, feeling the remnants of his tender living care wrapped around you like the blanket he had so thoughtfully draped over your shoulders. Suguru’s love was quiet, persistent, and steady. And in this moment, even in the midst of your stress, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to have him.

—

The hours dragged on as the hum of your laptop filled the quiet room. Despite Suguru’s care and the warmth of the blanket over your shoulders, you continued to push through. The stress of preparing for the interview was like a weight on your chest, driving you to review every last detail of your presentation.

Fatigue gnawed at your senses, but you stubbornly ignored it.

Your fingers moved slowly over the keyboard, eyes struggling to focus on the words that had long since blurred. You barely noticed the dim light of your screen, and the quiet of the house settled into a calming lull.

Suguru, ever mindful, peeked into your office from time to time. He could see the way your head drooped closer to the screen, the way your back slumped in the chair, the exhaustion etched in your every movement.

After what felt like an eternity, Suguru decided enough was enough. He reappeared at the doorway of your office, a glass of water in hand.

As he approached, he saw your body had finally succumbed to the exhaustion you had been fighting. Your head was resting on your folded arms atop the desk, the faint glow of the laptop barely illuminating your peaceful face.

The screen had dimmed automatically, its light reflecting softly off your skin, casting long shadows across the room.

Suguru’s steps softened as he entered the room, not wanting to disturb you. He set the glass of water down quietly beside the untouched cup of tea he had brought earlier and knelt beside you, taking in the sight of your sleeping form.

The tension that had lined your features throughout the day had finally faded, leaving you with an expression of serenity. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he brushed a few strands of hair out of your face, tucking them gently behind your ear.

His gaze lingered, his heart swelling with warmth and affection.

You had worked yourself to the point of exhaustion, and as much as he admired your dedication, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for letting you get this far without insisting on rest.

He knew how much this interview meant to you, but he also knew that you needed sleep just as much.

Suguru rose to his feet, stepping behind your chair as he gently placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/n,” he whispered softly, his voice barely above a breath. There was no response. You were too far gone in sleep to even stir. He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Stubborn as always."

Without another word, he slipped his arms beneath you, careful not to wake you as he lifted your limp form from the chair. Your head lolled softly against his chest as he cradled you in his strong arms, the weight of your body nothing compared to the warmth in his heart. The blanket that had once been draped over your shoulders fell away—forgotten as Suguru began to carry you out of the office.

The hallway was dark, lit only by the dim light of the moon filtering through the windows. The soft sound of his footsteps was the only noise in the stillness of the house. He glanced down at you as he walked, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept soundly against him.

As he reached the bedroom, Suguru nudged the door open with his foot and crossed the room to the bed. He laid you down gently, his movements careful and precise, not wanting to disturb your sleep. Once you were settled, he pulled the covers up to your chin, tucking you in with the same tenderness he had shown all evening.

For a long moment, he stood beside the bed, just watching you sleep. His eyes softened as he took in the sight of you, safe and sound under his watch. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words barely audible in the quiet of the room.

Suguru straightened up, brushing a hand through his long hair before glancing back at you one last time, soaking in your effortless beauty.

He smiled softly to himself as he quietly left the room, knowing you would wake up tomorrow feeling refreshed—whether you wanted to or not.

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klintoris · 4 months ago

Note

I've seen a few things recently...sooo brat taming schlatt. Thinking about how mad and cocky he was on the trivia episode, plus this one tiktok that I've seen. ...kinda need him to to be super annoying and look at his stupid eyes and smirk. Boom, I go ham. Go crazy

Thank you for listening

heloooo anon!!! sorry for the really late reply LOLOLOL, I'm not sure which episode you mean but I did some homework so I hope this is what you wanted.

schlatt brat taming, hints of dacryphilia, edging, inflicting pain, idk I think that's it. oh and mommy kink if you squint (use of ma)

NOT PROOF READ LOL

Schlatt and I are both hard workers when it comes to our jobs. although he has an editor, I do not, so I need all the focus I can get to finish my videos.

I was editing a longer video, around 3 hours of footage, so the likelihood of me finishing within a day is doubtful. Usually, when I am editing, I block everyone out and lock in.

It's around 4 am and I'm still going at the video, fully engulfed in the task at hand.

I zone back out when I hear long-stridden footsteps coming towards my office, almost in a hurried motion. The door swings open and I see a large figure in the reflection of my screen.

“What's up,” I say still turned around, “Ma can you please come to bed” schlatt says needily. “Sorry baby I’m working righ’now”, he groans at my response. I hear the weight on the floor shift as I look in the reflection I vaguely see schlatt doing something with his pants.

For the first time in hours, I take my eyes off the screen and look at what he's toying with, as I turn my chair I see him rubbing himself through his sweats, breathing heavily.

“Baby, you know I don't like it when you touch yourself,” I tilt my head in disapproval. He huffs as he stares into my eyes, still touching himself with a smirk.

I roll my eyes and turn myself back around, receiving a groan from the large man.

I try to get back to editing but all I can hear is the stupidly pathetic moans of the man behind me, “if you keep doing that-”, “Or what?” he retorts. I swing back around staring at him as his eyes challenge me, “What toots’? What y’gonna do? I ain't scared of you”. “Excuse me”, “y’fucking heard me”, I bolt out of my seat, striding over and grabbing his dick, yanking him into our shared bedroom, he protests with a ton of ows and fucks.

Practically throwing him onto the bed and straddling him, immediately slapping his face, “You think you can just talk to me like that? Huh? Think you can talk down to me? I own you” I stare down at him, all he's doing is just laying there with a huge grin on his face. “Hit me again ma” he beams up at me trying to put his hands on my hips. I slap his hands away, “I'm not gonna give you that I don't think you even deserve to be fucking touched”, he frowns at that, leaving the smile behind. “Fuck please m sorry ma, just let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours” he pouts, his once cocky stare is now just a stupid pleading look. “You don't even deserve my pussy right now with the way you are acting”, I get off him and grab the handcuffs and vibrator. “No not the fucking vibrator please fuck”, “You think you're above me but look at the way you are right now, so dumb” schlatt whimpers as I get back on the bed.

“Give me your hands or are you gonna fight with me again?” he slowly brings his hands up to me, i place the handcuff on his one hand and fish the other cuff through one of the bed posts and then cuff it to his other hand.

“Don't do this toots I’ll be a good boy I swear” he plead watching me yank down his sweats, “no undies huh? What a slut” I chuckle.

I lean back just staring at him, his shirt ridden up and his face red.

“Fuckin’ jus touch me, princess, please”, “oh playing nice now? You know that won't save you now.”.

He whimpers and yanks at the cuffs, I reach over and grab the vibrator off the bedside table, and as I do he starts yanking faster.

“Fuck baby almost makes me feel bad for you” I cackle almost.

I turn the vibrator on the lowest setting, straddling his legs so he can't move, slowly inching it towards his cock.

I stare up at him through my lashes watching him squirm as I place the low humming object near the base of his cock.

Gently running it up and down, only to take it off again.

“Fuck’m ma please” schlatt begs

“Please what honey? Use your words”

“Please let me f-fuck you”

“Awh no baby you lost that privilege today”

He whines as I turn the speed up on the vibrator, throwing his head back on the pillow once I bring it back down to the tip.

His angry tip pulsing against the vibrator, brushing the vibrator up and down his length.

Again pulling away once I feel his hips attempt to buck up against the vibrator, he whimpers in frustration.

“God you fucking bitch-” he huffs without thinking, I grab his face and make him look at me. “Do you want me to keep going?”, “please-” “then shut the fuck up,” I say as I push his face back.

He grins stupidly, almost happily as if he is overjoyed by my treatment of him, I shake my head and turn the vibrator to the max.

Bringing it down on his length again, faster and more determined now, “Don't cum until I say so” he whines at my words. Going up and down, focusing on the tip more, I start to fondle his balls.

Schlatt moans out and starts to buck his hips up against my hand, along with the toy. His cock angry and red, wanting to cum so badly.

“Please- toots cant please can I cum? Fuck-”, I smirk and pull the toy away.

I see a tear shed from his eyes from frustration, “Are you gonna be a good boy?”, “please yes yes” his once cocky demeanour from early is completely gone.

“Good,” I say before putting the loud vibrator back onto his cock, bucking his hips up again I can tell he's close. I scratch my nails into his thigh, making his cock twitch harshly, “please ma? Can I cum-” “Yes baby let it out for me”.

Before I can even finish my sentence he's shooting ropes onto his sweatshirt, panting and whimpering as he finishes.

We sit there for a second after I turn the vibrator off, he starts to pull at the handcuffs, looking at me.

“Ok ok ok” I unlock them and let his hands fall, finding leverage in my ass. He sighs, “what” I stare at him with a weird look.

“I don't know I don't think I've learned my lesson” he laughs.

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt smut #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x reader smut #jschlatt x reader #chuckle sandwich #girlblogging #brat taming

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its-all-stardust · 1 year ago

Text

Sugar || 5

Masterlist || Part Four || Part Six

Steven Grant/Sugar Mommy!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Series Summary: You meet Steven in a museum gift shop and feel an instant connection. Before you walk out the door you decide, perhaps against your better judgment, that you need him to be your sugar baby. Now you just need him to let you treat him right.

Notes: I'll admit, this chapter isn't my favorite but it works lol. it's mainly here to establish certain things to make it easier for me in the future, so sorry if it's not as good as the others!

You call Steven immediately, but he doesn’t answer. Hanging up without leaving a message, you text him.

Is everything okay? You quickly type. You don’t want to immediately ask why he left. Maybe he was uncomfortable staying the night but didn’t want to say anything.

But then, why did he ask to kiss you again before you left him for the night?

As frustrating as it is for Steven to pull such a vanishing act, it hurts worse. You’re so attached to him already, and the thought that you might have done something to upset him or that he might not want to be around you is crushing.

There’s no immediate response to your text, and you try not to let this minor hiccup affect you. Surely something must have happened for Steven—sweet Steven, who apologizes for not responding to a message within a few minutes—not to have gotten back to you yet.

You’re left standing in the middle of your apartment, lost.

With a shake of your head, you try to put the worst from your mind. For all you know, he could have gotten called into work early and forgot to let you know on his rush out the door. You open your banking app and pay Steven for the night, making sure to deduct whatever you were planning to pay for the pleasure of waking up to him in your home. You also make a mental note to give Steven a firm talking to when you next see each other.

You didn’t hear from Steven for the rest of the weekend.

You’re reminded of one of your babies from a few years ago—the one who ghosted you after one date—and like a parasite, the idea that Steven might have done the same thing latches onto you and refuses to let go.

Monday morning, you’re determined not to let a mere sugar baby distract you—even though you don’t think of Steven as a “mere” anything—and steel yourself for what could be the inevitable end to a short-lived relationship. Steven taking two weeks to talk to you before agreeing to be your baby was one thing. It was another to agree to follow your rules, only to disregard them entirely. If Steven can’t commit to you the way you want him to, or if he decides that this isn’t for him, then you aren’t going to keep him.

It could even be a good thing, you try to convince yourself.

Maybe this could all be a lesson you need to learn about picking babies off the street.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the thought. You’re catastrophizing again. You’re making this personal, a reflection of yourself and your abilities. At the end of the day, Steven is an employee you hired because you thought he could do the job. After seeing some trouble from him, you’re merely reconsidering his position with you.

You ignore how much your stomach roils at the thought of letting him go.

At lunch, your phone vibrates in your purse—where you had tossed it earlier when you couldn’t stop staring at it from its usual place on your desk.

The sound makes you pause, questioning if someone is really calling you.

It might not be Steven, you tell yourself as you slowly, calmly reach into your bag and pull out your phone.

But it is him, and the weight in your stomach eases a little.

You stare at the phone, at Steven’s name on the screen, until it goes dark and stops vibrating. Then, a moment later, a notification pops up, announcing a voicemail.

Still, you wait. It’s only fair, after all.

Immediately, your phone starts buzzing again, Steven’s name displaying again. This time, you answer.

“Steven,” you say, your voice low. Although you’re glad he called and persisted with the voicemail and a second call, you’re still upset with him. He better have a good reason for disappearing.

“I am so sorry,” Steven says after a moment, perhaps registering your tone and knowing how upset you are. “I think…I think something’s wrong with me.”

“Why do you say that?” Despite your confusion, you keep your tone even, neither believing nor disbelieving him until you have more information.

Steven hesitates. “You’ll think I’m mad,” he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.

That’s what hits you: your baby is going through something he’s afraid you’ll reject him for, that you won’t be there for him. And right now, regardless of how you feel, he needs you.

“Steven,” you say, softening your voice and letting a hint of worry peak through. “What’s wrong? Explain it to me.”

“I don’t remember this weekend,” Steven quietly admits, deepening your worry. “I mean, I remember staying at yours, but then suddenly I’m home, standing in the bathroom, and it’s Monday. And I know you’re mad at me, I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what’s going on.” Steven finishes, sounding on the verge of tears if a few haven’t slipped out already.

“Baby, hush,” you soothe. “I’m not mad at you.” Not anymore, though you are…concerned.

“You’re not?” Steven asks, hopeful.

“No, I’m not. But what happened? Are you not feeling well? Did you hit your head?”

You want to ask if he took anything, but hold off. It doesn’t feel like the right time, and it could potentially make him defensive and resistant to help if you do.

“Nothing like that. Mainly tired, like I haven’t slept in days, but nothing else.”

Strange, to say the least.

“Have you gone to the doctor?”

“N-no, I haven’t. I wasn’t sure…Since nothing’s wrong—”

“Steven, you blacked out for an entire day. That’s not normal,” you insist. Steven goes quiet. “Go. For me. I need to know you’re okay.”

“Okay,” he agrees softly.

“You’ll go today,” you order.

“Yes. Today.”

You think for a moment, biting your lip. “You’ll come to my place later. Meet me there when I get off work.”

You don’t know if inviting him back to your place is a good idea. There could genuinely be something wrong with Steven, something happening to him. But there’s also a chance he’s keeping something, some bad habit or another, from you.

You briefly rethink your decision to forgo a background check on him, but even still, you don’t make plans to follow through with it.

Despite the warning signs, you still want to see him, need to see him. You need to know he’s okay and be there for him. It takes everything in you not to go and be with him now, your anger forgotten and your worry about what he may have gotten himself into ignored.

He’s yours, and you want to take care of him. It’s almost as if, in the short time you’ve known him, he’s done something to you.

“I’ll be there,” Steven says, sounding more sure than anything else he’s said so far. “I…I need to see you.”

You try to ignore the warmth that floods through you.

Steven looks lost as he stands outside your door. He hesitates when he sees you, unsure whether to go to you or wait for you to reach him and unlock the door.

He looks tired, like he indeed hasn’t slept since he was here on Saturday, and his clothes are disheveled, more so than usual. You’ve yet to hear what happened to him over the weekend, what caused his blackout, but you already have a half-formed plan to keep him here tonight and put him to bed as soon as possible.

When you get close, you say his name softly and hold out your arms.

Steven looks relieved as he steps into you, his arms tucking under yours as he buries his face in your neck. He melts into you, and the two of you stand outside your door, each drawing some comfort from the other.

One of your hands goes to his head, threading your fingers through his curl and holding him tight. You kiss the side of his head and wait, letting him hold onto you for as long as he needs.

He clings to you so desperately it makes you wonder if he has anyone else.

Why is it that you, his sugar mommy, are the first person he came to? Regardless of your feelings toward him, surely he has family or friends he could turn to in a moment like this.

You don’t recall him mentioning anyone, except his mother, off-handedly. From how he made it sound, you don’t think she’s even in London.

Maybe you’re all he has.

The thought makes you cling to him as much as he is to you. With Steven in your arms, it’s easy to decide that no matter what’s wrong, you’ll help him. Maybe it’s something where it wouldn’t be right for him to keep being your sugar baby, but you won’t abandon him.

When Steven shows no sign of letting you go, you whisper, “Let’s go inside.”

He reluctantly pulls away and nods, though his hand quickly finds yours.

Once you’re through the door, you kick off your shoes and lead Steven to the couch. You’re a little surprised he doesn’t immediately curl up to your side, but he seems to realize the two of you still need to talk. And whatever he has to say must be serious.

“Did you go to the doctor like I said?” you ask when Steven doesn’t speak.

Instead, he deflates, falling back against the couch, tossing his head back, and staring up at the vaulted ceiling.

“She’s as stumped as I am, I think. Couldn’t find anything without running tests and…” he trails off, sounding defeated.

“And?” you prompt, squeezing his hand. He still hasn’t let go.

“She said it could just be sleepwalking or something like that. But for a whole day?” Steven lifts his head up, staring at you in confusion. “How can I have been asleep for a whole day? Not to mention getting from your flat to mine. Ugh, and then Donna.” Steven falls back and rubs his free hand down his face.

You had forgotten he was scheduled to work today. “You went in?”

“I was supposed to. Supposed to be there at nine, but came to staring at myself in the bathroom mirror with my phone ringing in the other room.”

“I take it Donna didn’t handle your absence well.”

“Oh, perfectly well, actually, if you don’t count the, you know, yelling and threatening to fire me. Had to tell her it was an emergency and promise that it won’t happen again to get her to stop. I don’t think she even believed me.”

You can practically see the weight of it all resting on Steven’s shoulders. Waking up after a blackout, knowing something is wrong, and then having your manager chewing you out immediately after? It would be horrible.

“Oh, Steven,” you soothe, pulling him to you so you can hug him again. “What about those tests the doctor mentioned? Are you going to take them? I could pull some strings and get you in to see a specialist sooner.”

“You don’t have to,” Steven insists as he wraps his arms around your waist. “There’s a chance it’s nothing… Just wait and see and hope it doesn’t happen again.”

You have to bite your tongue to keep from arguing. You’ve never had to worry about a baby’s health before, and you’re not sure if insisting that he seek treatment goes beyond the bounds you set for the relationship or if Steven would even appreciate you inserting yourself into that part of his life. You don’t want to tell him what to do regarding certain aspects of his personal life, but you still worry.

“Did you tell your family about what happened?” you ask instead. If you can’t tell him what to do about his health, maybe they can.

“It’s just my mum,” Steven says quietly, as if unsure what he wants to tell you. “I left her a message. She’s always traveling, so it’s hard to catch her. She’ll listen to it when she can, though. She always does.”

Something about his tone is slightly off, making you wonder who he’s trying to convince.

“Can we just…go back to normal?” Steven asks, sounding exhausted. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Normal, huh?” you concede, running your fingers through his hair. You’ll play everything by ear for now, and Steven seems well enough that you’re willing to drop the topic for tonight.

“Please?” he mumbles into your neck.

“Well, it just so happens that I got something in the mail for you today.”

Steven lifts his head, brow furrowed. “What’s that?”

You start pulling away, preparing to stand. “I’m going to need you to sound more enthusiastic than that, baby,” you say, kissing Steven’s cheek.

“Right, sorry,” he says, his face flushing like he’s already forgotten your roles. “I love it already. Thank you.”

You can’t help but laugh as you walk over to the front door where you left your bag. Grabbing the card you had safely tucked away earlier when it arrived at the office, you walk back to the living room and stand directly in front of Steven.

You flash the card at him, showing off his name and making Steven’s eyes widen in surprise.

“There’s no limit; you can use it to buy anything and everything. It’s already activated, and I have notifications set up on my phone, so I’ll know when you use it.” Your eyes narrow as you watch Steven visibly swallow, nervous. “And when you don’t.”

“I-I…” Steven stammers but doesn’t quite finish whatever he’s trying to get out.

You watch him closely, looking for any sign that he isn’t interested in this kind of play, the slightest hint that he’s uncomfortable.

Something dark shifts across his features then, twisting his expression toward a scowl. But then it’s gone in an instant, Steven’s expression returning to what it was, his soft brown eyes so trusting. You have no idea what to make of it.

Though it leaves you confused, you decide to continue but are mindful of any other signs that you’ll need to stop what you’re doing. What you have in mind isn’t intense, but some of your babies found it degrading and didn’t like doing it.

“Tell me why I should give you this card,” you say.

Steven shakes his head automatically. “I don’t deserve it.”

You raise an eyebrow. “No? But aren’t you doing this for the money? And all the other things I can give you?”

He looks away briefly before meeting your eyes again. Even though he’s hesitating, nothing about him says he doesn’t want to be doing this.

“Yes? But you already—”

“Steven.” His mouth snaps shut at your tone. “Repeat after me: I deserve an unlimited credit card.”

He flushes again and mumbles, “I deserve an unlimited credit card.”

“Louder.”

Steven repeats himself, only slightly louder than the first time.

“Again,” you order, still not satisfied.

When Steven repeats the words this time, he does so at a normal speaking volume—not too loud, but perfect for you.

“Good boy,” you praise, reaching out to hold his face with your free hand. You can tell this was hard for Steven, and you hope, one day, asking for the things he wants will be easier for him.

Steven closes his eyes with a contented sigh and nuzzles your palm. You can’t help but smile adoringly at him.

“Do you know why you deserve it?” you ask, keeping your voice low, soft.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head slightly, careful not to knock your hand away. “Because you’re my baby, and you’re special. Say it.”

Steven lets out a shaky breath against your palm. “Because I’m yours, and I’m special.” He doesn’t mumble or stumble over the words. His voice is clear and even, making you let out a pleased hum. You’re a little proud of him.

“Since you want it so much, beg for the card,” you say, watching him carefully.

Steven seems a little taken aback, and you drop your hand from his face.

“You can always say no,” you remind him. “This doesn’t have to be something we do. No hard feelings.”

When he doesn’t immediately respond, you take a step back and go to hand him the card. He’s done so well already, and you won’t push him into something he doesn’t want to do. Just because he’s your sugar baby doesn’t mean he’s a toy to toss around as you please.

But then Steven’s hands are on your hips, holding you in place.

“Please,” he whispers, staring up at you beseechingly from his place on the couch. Your heart starts to pound, elated.

“Please, what? What do you want?” You need him to say the words; you need to know that he wants to do this, too.

“Please give me the card,” he says, his voice still so quiet.

“You don’t sound like you want it bad enough.”

Steven shifts on the couch, moving close to the edge. His hands on your hips tighten ever so slightly. He licks his lips and says, “Please, can I have it? I promise I’ll use it. I’ll-I’ll buy so much stuff. Please?” He sounds happy to play along but isn’t sure quite what to say. You’re pleased, though, that he’s trying.

“Please what?” you prompt, hoping he’ll get the message, that he’ll like that part of the relationship too.

Steven stares at you for a moment. Then, “Please, mummy,” said in a breathless whisper.

Smiling brightly at him, you lean down and kiss him. Steven eagerly returns it, gripping your hips tighter and trying to pull you closer even though his head is already tilted back at a slightly awkward angle.

“You did so well, baby,” you say when you pull away. During the kiss, your hand somehow found its way into Steven’s hair, gripping it just enough to move his head how you wanted. You slide your hand back down to his cheek, brushing your thumb against the flush you find there. His pupils are blown wide, and his mouth is slightly open as he lets out shallow pants.

Standing up straight, you hold the credit card out for Steven. “Buy whatever you want, and you’re not getting off this couch until you do.”

“Right now?” Steven asks, sounding a little dazed. He reluctantly releases your hips to take the card, allowing you to sit beside him.

“Yes, right now. Pull out your phone.” You settle in against his side, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, around his shoulders when he settles back, so you can hover over him. “Do you want one of those giant TVs? A gaming system or a computer? What about getting the fixings for a saltwater tank and getting Gus an exotic friend?”

“I… don’t know,” Steven says, taking his phone out of his pocket and unlocking it. He still seems overwhelmed by the whole idea of having such an outrageous amount of money to spend. You affectionately brush one of his curls away from his face.

“Don’t worry, we have all night to figure it out.”

Series taglist: @multific @uncle-eggy @kezibear @local-mr-frog @peachyrue-777 @kpopslur @tejasvkris @thewinterv

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#moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight fanfic #x reader #sugar series

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magic-shop-stories · 8 days ago

Note

how would bts react to their kids being disrespectful towards their wife?

💌 Reply:

Ahh, I hope this is what you wanted... I took me way too long, but I got so many ideas while writing this.

This blog is honestly turning into BTS Parent AU (crying in orphan) - I started with a J-Hope Dad fic and end up writing Dad Headcanons for whole Bangtan - well, it kinda heals my childhood lol...

Thanks for the Request and feel free to reach out 💜 and HAVE FUN reading ✨️✨️

“Respect isn’t a rule, it’s the soil we grow in. If you poison it, nothing blooms.”

NAMJOON

Philosopher-leader

introspective

values growth through empathy & dialogue

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

when he hears the disrespect, his grip tightens on whatever he’s holding, knuckles whitening

closes his eyes for a beat, exhaling through his nose

you know how his jaw clenches? THAT!!!

his voice is low but steady, deliberate calm masking his hurt

“That language isn’t acceptable. Let’s take a walk.”

Internal Feelings:

disappointment curdles in his chest

mentally files it away to process later

blames himself first before focusing on guiding his child

Teaching Moment

Nature Walk

takes his child to a quiet park or riverbank

points to tangled tree roots:

“See how they hold each other up? Families are like that. When you hurt Mom, you shake our roots.”

asks them to find a smooth stone and toss it into water

“Words are like ripples, once they’re out, you can’t take them back.”

Punishment

1) Apology Letter & Reflection Essay

his child writes two things

heartfelt apology to their mom, including specific examples of her sacrifices

A 1-page reflection on “How My Words Impact Others,” using a metaphor; e.g., “Anger is fire,it burns the person holding it too”

2) Community Service

would volunteer with his child at a local community garden for a weekend

“You’ll water plants and see how care grows something beautiful. Like Mom does for us.”

3) Lost Privileges

no screen time (tablet, TV) until both letters are completed to his standards

Internal Conflict

Self-Doubt:

later, he vents in his journal

“Did I overreact? Am I too abstract for them to understand?”

worries his calmness comes off as indifference

Frustration & Compassion

part of him wants to yell "How dare they hurt her?" but he swallows it, knowing anger won’t teach

instead, texts his wife:

“I’m sorry you had to hear that. We’ll fix this together.”

Guilt

buys her favorite latte and leaves it on her desk with a sticky note

“You’re our bedrock. Thank you for enduring my learning curves too.”

Follow-Up

Family Meeting

gathers everyone to discuss “healthy communication.”

uses a whiteboard to map emotions

e.g., “When you’re angry, here’s how we express it without explosions”

lets his child lead part of the discussion

Ritual

starts a weekly “Gratitude Stone” tradition

each family member drops a painted stone into a bowl while sharing something they appreciate about the others

the bowl stays on the dining table as a visual reminder

_________________________________________

“Respect your mom, or I’ll revoke your WiFi and your right to laugh at my jokes. And trust me, you need both to survive.”

JIN

playful disciplinarian

fiercely protective

humor as a bridge to vulnerability

nurturing with a side of theatrics

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Dramatic Flair

whirls around, clutching his chest like a K-drama lead

“Yah! Did I just hear disrespect in this household? To the woman who gave you life? Are you a villain in a weekend drama now?”

his voice drops, dead serious

“Apologize. Properly. Now.”

Body Language

looms over his child (playfully intimidating), arms crossed

winks at his wife to reassure her he’s handling it

Internal Feelings

hot flash of anger - How dare they hurt her?

masks it with humor to avoid scaring his kid

secretly wonders - Did I joke too much about respect? Is this my fault?

Teaching Moment

Cooking Lesson Consequences

drags his kid to the kitchen

“You think parenting is easy? Let’s see you handle dinner.”

carefully forces them to peel garlic, chop onions, and stir a bubbling pot while he “supervises” from a stool

Metaphor Time

“Mom’s like this stew, holds everything together. You insult her, the whole family falls apart. You wanna taste chaos? Here...”

lets them sip over-salted broth

“See? Without her balance, life’s spicy in the worst way.”

Punishment:

Apology Performance

he'd make them sing an apology parody of Super Tuna (Jin writes lyrics if they're younger/need help) (too personal opinion)

“I’m sorry, Mom, I was a fool / I broke the golden respect rule!”

complete with fish-themed choreography

Mom’s Personal Assistant

for a week, his kid acts as Mom’s “manager”

bringing her coffee, massaging her shoulders, and taking notes on her daily tasks

“You’ll learn how hard she works and say ‘Yes, Queen’ with a smile.”

No Joke Privilege

bans his child from his dad-joke sessions (their favorite bonding time) until they earn back trust

“Comedy’s a privilege for people who respect their co-stars.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt & Second-Guessing

after bedtime, he stress-eats kimchi pancakes in the kitchen

mutters to his wife:

“Was I too harsh? Should I have hugged them first?”

(if she reassures him, he still texts his mom at 2 a.m.)

“How did you not disown me when I was 13 and edgy?”

Protective Fury

secretly grinds his teeth remembering the disrespect

Humor as Armor

buys his wife expensive skincare “just because”

glares at hiskid’s homework like it personally offended her

cracks a joke during the apology song

“Your high note needs work, but the remorse is chef’s kiss”

makes sure his child knows he’s dead serious underneath

Follow-Up

Family Dinner Theater

institutes a weekly “Appreciation Roast” where everyone playfully roasts each other, but he'd end up praising his child and wife

“Your mom’s so amazing, she makes the sun jealous. Fight me.”

Secret Spy Mission

assigns his kid to stealthily document Mom’s daily acts of kindness (e.g., packing lunches, fixing Wi-Fi)

“Mom Appreciation PowerPoint.” = Jin adds meme slides for flair

_________________________________________

“Your anger’s a tool. Use it to fix what you broke, not break what she fixed.”

SUGA

stoic realist

quietly protective

values actions over empty words

emotionally reserved

deeply introspective

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Cold Silence

freezes mid-task (producing beats, fixing a coffee)

eyes narrowing to slits

voice drops to a low, icy register

“Repeat that. Slowly.”

room chills, even the air feels heavier

Body Language

leans back in his chair, fingers steepled, jaw clenched

a vein pulses at his temple, the only tell of his simmering rage

Internal Feelings

visceral flashback to his teenage self snapping at his parents

guilt claws at him

“Am I failing like I thought he did?”

referencing his own father’s emotional distance

Teaching Moment

Studio Session

drags his kid to his home studio at midnight

slams headphones onto them

“You’re angry? Scream. Spit it into the mic. Let’s hear exactly what’s rotting in your head.”

records their raw, unfiltered outburst

plays it back, deadpan

“This what you want your legacy to be? Noise?”

Lyric Exercise

forces them to transform the rant into structured rap verses

“Anger’s useless if it doesn’t build something. Mom’s your hook, write a chorus thanking her.”

Punishment

Gratitude Ledger

his child must document every thing Mom does for them for a week, down to folded socks

present it as a spreadsheet

“Numbers don’t lie. Now apologize in data.”

Manual Labor

assigns them to clean the studio top-to-bottom

“You wanna disrespect the woman who cleans your messes? Learn the weight of it.”

Tech Ban

confiscates their phone/laptop until the rap is perfected

“You’ll communicate face-to-face like we did in the trenches.”

Internal Conflict

Fatherhood Ghosts

stares at old family photos late at night

his father’s stern face haunts him

“Will my kid remember me as a wall or a weapon?”

texts his mom

“Did I ever make you feel small?”

she replies with a heart emoji, he saves it but doesn’t sleep

Emotional Paradox

wants to hug his child but fears coddling

leaves a new pair of sneakers (their size) outside their door -no note

Protective Rage

slips cash into his wife’s purse with a scribbled

“Buy silence. Spa. Dinner. Whatever. I’ll handle the chaos.”

Follow-Up

Family Cypher

hosts a living room rap battle

he goes hardest on himself

“I’m a flawed king, but Mom’s the throne. Diss her again, and you’ll rap alone.”

his kid’s verse earns a nod

“Better. Still trash flow, though.”

Silent Ritual

every Sunday, he and his child cook his mom’s kimchi jjigae recipe

no talking, just chopping, stirring, and passing ingredients

“Respect’s in the labor,” he mutters once, and his kid finally gets it

_________________________________________

”You can’t fake respect like a bad dance cover. Nail the basics, or you’re benched from my WiFi."

J-HOPE

radiant disciplinarian

structured yet warm

balances positivity with unwavering principles

thrives on growth through accountability

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

The Judge Face Activated

the moment he hears the disrespect, his signature smile evaporates

eyes narrow into a laser-focused stare

brows furrowing into "courtroom glare."

stands tall, arms crossed, fingertips tapping his biceps

silent countdown to explosion

Voice

sharp and clipped, volume rising just enough to sting

“Hold. Up. Did you just speak to your mother like that? Do you need a mirror to see how ugly that sounded?”

Body Language

steps between his child and his wife, a protective shield

his usually animated hands now rigid at his sides, fists briefly clenching

Teaching Moment

Choreography of Consequences

”Respect Rehearsal”

forces his child to practice bowing and polite phrases

”Yes, Mom,” “Thank you, Mom” 50 times in front of a mirror “You wanna act up? Perfect your performance as a decent human first.”

Gratitude Graffiti

hands them poster boards and markers

“You have one hour to turn this disrespect into art. Every color is a reason Mom deserves better.”

stands arms crossed, critiquing laziness

“That’s yellow effort. I’ve seen your TikToks, do rainbow.”

Hope’s Homework

assigns a essay titled ”How My Words Dance on Others’ Hearts”

must include a choreography metaphor

“If you can’t write it, we’ll literalize it. Ten pirouettes per paragraph.”

Internal Conflict

Post-Punishment Panic

“Was I too much? Did I break their spirit? What if they hate me now?”

after sending his kid to their room, he paces the kitchen

stress-eating gummy bears

texts Jimin:

”Hyung messed up. I went full dance captain on them 😭”

Guilty Glimpses

peeks into his child’s room later, heart aching if they’re crying

leaves a bowl of their favorite fruit with a note

”Anger fades. Love doesn’t. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Wife Reassurance

kneads his wife’s shoulders that night, voice small

“Did I… overstep? I just... I couldn’t let them think it’s okay to dim your light.” he exhales shakily

Follow-Up

Apology Showcase

makes his child present their poster and essay at a “family meeting.”

he claps loudest, eyes misty

”This… this is hope, right? Growth!”

Kindness Choreo

creates a ”Respect Routine”

his child must perform one act of service for Mom daily (e.g., making her coffee, tidying her shoes)

Dance Floor Therapy

blasts upbeat music, pulling his kid into a silly dance-off.

”Life’s a stage, yeah? But Mom’s the main audience. Never forget.”

_________________________________________

“You’re my blood. But if you cut her, I’ll bleed harder. Fix this.”

JIMIN

affectionate empath

fiercely loyal

balances warmth with unexpected intensity

prioritizes emotional harmony

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Surprising Fury

his doe eyes harden into a steel-gray glare

voice dropping to a razor-sharp whisper

“What did you just say to her?”

steps closer, posture taut as a bowstring

“You don’t ever speak to Mom like that. Apologize. Now.”

Body Language

hands tremble slightly, not from fear, but suppressed rage

he grips his child’s shoulder, not roughly, but firm enough to ground them

“Look at her. Look at how you made her feel.”

Internal Feelings

flash of his own childhood guilt surfaces

that time he snapped at his mother during trainee stress

his anger is laced with panic:

“Am I repeating cycles I swore to break?”

Teaching Moment

Emotional Bootcamp

Apology Art

forces his child to create a “Heart Map” collage

photos of Mom’s sacrifices, surrounded by handwritten apologies in every color

“If you can’t say it, show it.”

sits silently beside them, tears brimming as he points to a photo of Mom staying up late with homework

Role Reversal

makes them act out a skit where they’re the parent

Jimin plays them, mimicking their harsh tone

feigns sobbing into a pillow

“Feel good? Proud? This is what you did.”

Service Sentence

his child must take over Mom’s chores for a week, packing lunches, folding laundry

he supervises, arms crossed

“You think her love is free? It’s labor. Respect it.”

Internal Conflict

Guilt Spiral

after confrontation, he locks himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face

“Did I scare them? What if they think I’m a monster?”

texts Jungkook:

”Messed up. I sounded like a monster”

Midnight Check-In

creeps into his child’s room at 2 a.m., tucking them in

whispers

“I’m sorry I yelled. But Mom… she’s my soul. You can’t break her.”

leaves a handwritten note:

“Anger is love that’s bleeding. Let’s heal together.”

Wife’s Reassurance

clings to her that night, forehead pressed to her shoulder

“Tell me I’m not failing. Tell me they’ll still love me.”

Soft Family Resolution

Pillow Fort Summit:

builds a blanket fort in the living room

stuffed with snacks and fairy lights

initiates a feelings circle

“I’m sorry I yelled. I felt scared; scared we’d lose us.”

“Love is sticky, yeah? Messy. But sweet when you knead it right.”

encourages his child to share

pulls them into a cuddle pile

Baking Therapy

bakes cookies together, Jimin guiding their hands

feeds Mom the first bite, eyes soft

Dance of Apology

plays a slow song, swaying with his child

“This is how we say sorry without words.”

by the end, they’re both laughing through tears

_________________________________________

“Disrespect your mom, and you erase the art of our family. I’ll burn the palette until you paint her properly.”

TAEHYUNG (V)

artistic empath

whimsical yet profound

values emotional depth and creativity

fiercely protective with a tender heart

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Quiet Intensity

his playful demeanor evaporates

tilts his head, eyes narrowing into a piercing gaze

voice low and steady

“Did I just hear you disrespect the universe that holds our family together?”

his tone is velvet wrapped in steel

Body Language

steps closer, crouching to his child’s level

hands clasped tightly behind his back to avoid trembling

“You think words are just air? They’re echoes. Let’s make sure yours don’t haunt us.”

Teaching Moment

Metaphor-Driven Lesson:

”Broken Vase” Analogy

brings out a delicate ceramic vase

smashes it deliberately

“This was us. Now fix it.”

hands them glue, forcing them to piece it back

“Apologies are glue, but cracks remain. Choose your words wisely.”

Songwriting Therapy

drags his child to the piano

“Turn your anger into music. Write a chorus for Mom, every line a reason she’s our melody.”

plays minor chords until his child’s lyrics shift from defiance to remorse

Silent Gallery

curates a “Mom Exhibit” in the living room

photos, her favorite scarf, a recipe card

forces his child to stand there for an hour

“Breathe in her soul. Then tell me she deserves disrespect.”

Consequence

1) Art Ban

revokes access to paints, instruments, or cameras until the vase is repaired and the song is performed for Mom

“Creativity is a privilege. Use it to heal, not harm.”

2) Memory Journal:

assigns a diary to log daily acts of kindness from Mom

“Fill 10 pages. Then burn one and see how it feels to erase her love.”

3) Shadow Day:

his child must follow Mom for 24 hours, documenting her tasks in a sketchbook

“You’ll learn her language of love—it’s spelled S-A-C-R-I-F-I-C-E.”

Internal Conflict

Doubt in Darkness

late at night, he stares at the fractured vase on his shelf

texts Jin:

“Hyung, what if I’m too abstract? What if they don’t see?”

vowing, “I’ll be the parent who stays in the frame.”

Guilt in Gestures

secretly films Mom’s daily routine, editing it into a montage set to his child’s song

leaves it on their laptop with a note:

“Her love is your legacy. Don’t let it be a silent film.”

Protective Poetry

writes a letter he never sends:

“I’d raze galaxies to keep you safe. Both of you.”

Resolution

Family Portrait Session

dresses everyone in coordinating hues

directing a photoshoot where Mom is the focal point

whispered to his child:

“See how she outshines us all? That’s why we orbit her.”

Midnight Storytime

gathers them under fairy lights

recounting a fable about a boy who lost his voice after hurting his mother

ends with, “Love is the only language worth speaking.”

Collaborative Art

paints a mural together titled “Home.”

guides his child’s hand to outline Mom’s figure

“Without her, this canvas is empty. Now fill it with light.”

_________________________________________

“Disrespect Mom, and you’ll spar with me until your heart matches your mouth, strong enough to lift her, not tear her down.”

JUNGKOOK

gentle protector

resilient softie

leads by example

values hard work and emotional honesty

channels intensity into growth

Reaction & Consequences

Initial Response:

Silent Fury

freezes mid-rep at the gym, dumbbell hovering

his muscles tense like coiled springs

jaw clenched so tight his cheekbones sharpen

sets the weight down with deliberate calm, turns slowly, and locks eyes with his child

“You think you’re tough enough to disrespect your mom? Let’s test that.”

Body Language

cracks his knuckles, rolling his shoulders back

his gaze is volcanic

his voice stays eerily quiet

“Gym. Now. You wanna act hard? Be hard.”

Teaching Moment

Boxing Bootcamp

drags his kid to his home gym

forces them into gloves, pads him up, and drills combos

“Hit the pad. Harder. Harder. That’s your anger? Mom’s felt worse from your words.”

makes them sprint between rounds

“Respect isn’t a game, it’s a discipline.”

Breakdown: mid-session, he stops, chest heaving

“You think I’m mad? I’m terrified. Because if you break her heart, I don’t know if I can fix it.”

Punishment

Labor of Love:

assigns 100 burpees (he does them too)

“Every rep is a ‘thank you’ for Mom’s sleepless nights.”

Gratitude Gauntlet

forces his kid to handwrite 50 reasons Mom “outworks them daily.”

critiques each one

“’She drives me to school’? Weak. Dig deeper. Sacrifice.”

Tech Timeout

confiscates gaming gear until they’ve detailed Mom’s daily schedule in a spreadsheet

“You’ll see her 18-hour shift. Then we’ll talk ‘fair.’”

Internal Conflict

Regret & Vulnerability

after the workout, he sits alone in the gym, head in hands

texts Yoongi:

”Hyung, did I go full drill sergeant? What if they hate me?”

stares at a family photo on his phone, zooming in on his wife’s smile

Guilt Gifts

sneaks into his kid’s room at dawn, leaves protein pancakes and a new hoodie (their favorite anime print)

scrawls on a napkin

”Anger fades. My love for you doesn’t. But never hurt her again.”

Protective Paradox

books his wife a solo vacation, "growling" at his kid

“You’re stuck with me. We’re rebuilding what you cracked.”

Soft Resolution

Sparring Therapy

returns to the gym days later, gloves on

this time, he lets his child hit his pads while venting

“I get it, anger’s easy. Loving’s harder. But Mom? She’s worth the reps.”

ends with a fist bump

Tattoo Talk

shows them his “ARMY” tattoo

“This means I fight for what I love. You’ll earn yours when you learn to fight for her, not against.”

Family Night

teaches self-defense moves

positioning Mom as the “VIP to protect.”

his kid must shield her from his playful attacks

“Guard her like she’s your last round.”

_________________________________________

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