#that ‘good feeling’ about this one hiring position

[wosoimagines]

Surprises

part 1 of rivals

fifteen year old Jo Knox gets her first call up to the USWNT camp and she makes her first professional rival.

I sighed as I pushed open the door to the hotel. I was vastly aware that it was highly unusual for someone to be in my position. Especially walking onto a team of such a high calibration.

After all, how many fifteen-year-olds could say that they got the chance to play with the United States Women’s National Team?

Mia Hamm. That’s it. The entire list.

Well.

Before today, at least.

Or, I guess I would actually have to take the field before I could actually be classified as playing with the national team. But just being at a camp with the national team was huge. And to be doing it toward the end of the year before the World Cup?

I wasn’t sure what it meant just yet. It could mean that the coaching staff really liked what they saw in me. Or this could be a test to see how I could handle the pressure. 

And I wasn’t sure which one I would rather it be.

I would have to tackle this just like I did at home. Stay out of everyone else’s way and get my job done. That’s what mattered. If I could prove that I was good at what I could do, who knows? Maybe I would actually have a future with the national team one day.

“Jo! Over here!”

I lifted my head to find a woman smiling at me as she waved. I sent her a small smile of my own as I moved over closer to her.

“Hi,” I softly said once I got close enough.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Jo,” the woman said as she held her hand out to me. I reached out to shake it. “I’m Dawn Scott. I’m the High Performance Coach for the team.”

“I’d introduce myself, but you already know who I am.”

Dawn let out a small laugh as her smile grew a bit wider.

“Come on, they haven’t really gotten far into the meeting yet,” Dawn said as she turned around. I dragged my bag behind me as I started to follow Dawn. “Jill’s excited to have you here. She wouldn’t stop boasting about you to Tom. Between us? Jill was very frustrated that Tom wouldn’t call you up.”

“And now she’s the coach?”

“Interim while the USSF tries to hire a new head coach. She was excited about getting the opportunity to add you to the roster though,” Dawn admitted. I was a bit surprised by that. I knew that I had been watched while I was with the youth teams, but I didn’t realize I had been watched specifically by the person they would trust to lead the team at this time. “It helps that Jill doesn’t mind risking chemistry to try out new and upcoming talent. Let’s face it, you’ve got a lot of talent already and you’re still nowhere near your full potential.”

“Yeah, well, outside of school, soccer is pretty much all I focus on. I mean, we all pretty much have our own thing in my family, mine just happens to be soccer,” I shrugged as we slowed down outside of one of the conference rooms. “With a family like mine? You have to do something to make sure that you stand out.”

“You can leave your bags just inside by the door if you’d like. I’ll have to go and sit on the side with the coaches, but you’ll have to sit with the players,” Dawn explained. That made sense. It would be even weirder if a teenager was sitting with the coaches rather than the other players. “There’s usually a seat in the back that’s open.”

“Thanks.”

Dawn nodded as she gave me one last smile as we both ducked into the room. I wasn’t too surprised when heads turned to stare at me as I left my bags by the door before I sat in the back left row. I tried not to let their stares bother me as I turned my attention to Jill. Jill wasn’t going through anything other than what I expected, just how we were going to have a tight schedule and what she was hoping to get out of this camp.

“One last thing before you can go! I have called up Jo Knox,” Jill announced as she peered over the others to look at me. I nodded as I avoided everyone else’s eyes. “I know some of you might not want to get along with a fifteen-year-old, but please make her feel welcomed. I’ve watched her on the field, and I think she’s got something special. You’re all free to leave. Jo, if you’ll stay behind.”

I waited in my seat as everyone else moved to leave. It wasn’t until most everyone else had left the room that I finally stood up. I moved to the front of the room as Jill was talking to one of the assistant coaches, but she turned her attention to me when I got closer.

“Hi, Jo,” Jill greeted me. I only gave a small nod in acknowledgement. “Look, I don’t want you to focus on being the absolute best right now. I just want you to focus on getting settled in and getting used to the team. Think you can handle that?”

“Yeah, of course, Coach.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jill said. She held a keycard out to me. I took it before sliding it into my pocket. “You’ll be rooming with Becky Sauerbrunn. Becky will help make sure that you study for school. I know that you have final exams coming up.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure to study,” I nodded. It was one of the only reasons my parents had let me come to camp anyways. “My parents gave me certain grades to get on my finals anyways if I want to come back to camp during the school year.”

“Just don’t stress out too much between soccer and school. Don’t need your play suffering because you’re too stressed out,” Dawn said from the side. 

I looked over at her before I nodded. I knew that she was right. I really didn’t need to stress too much about everything. 

“You want to know a secret?” Jill asked. I looked back over at her before slightly nodding. “I already plan on calling you back up for the next camp, okay? I know that this is going to be a stressful camp for you with it being so close to the end of the school year and you joining the senior squad. I just wanted to get you into camp so you would have an idea of what it’s like. The only thing that will keep me from calling you up for the next camp is you getting injured. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“All right, all of your gear is in your room. Ryan’s got everything up there for you. We’ll get you into media here in the next couple of days,” Jil said as she looked over at the rest of the staff. I guess they weren’t all coaches after all. “If your gear breaks or wears down, including shin pads or boots, you tell Ryan and he’ll help you get new gear within the same day.”

My eyes landed on the man who sent me a small smile and wave. I guess that was Ryan.

“Okay, cool.”

“I think that’s about all that I have for you. I’ll let you get settled in,” Jill said as she sent me a small smile. “I’m sure the girls are dying to get to know you. They’re probably waiting on the floor to bombard you with questions as we speak.”

I nodded at that before I gathered my bags and headed to the elevators. I didn’t have to wait long for an elevator. Once I was inside the elevator and by myself, I sighed as I watched the numbers climb higher. I wasn’t entirely sure what was waiting for me at the top though. But I definitely didn’t expect for a majority of the players to be standing in front of the elevator doors staring back at me. 

I shuffled off of the elevator but I didn’t try to push past any of the older players.

“Hi,” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck and looked down at my shoes. I really needed to get new shoes. And ones that weren’t hand-me-downs from Deliliah.

“God, you really are just a kid.”

I looked up to meet Megan Rapinoe’s eyes as she finished the statement. I only shrugged my shoulders. It wasn’t like I could change the fact that I was fifteen.

“So, are you any good, kid?”

I could only stare back at Abby. I mean it was Abby Wambach. I slowly nodded as I realized everyone was still looking at me for an answer.

“Well, I mean, I think I am at least,” I said as I rocked back and forth on my heels. “I’ve been playing with people older than me for all of my life.”

“Oh, yeah? How much older?”

“Well, I started playing with my club's U16 team when I was 12 and then I moved up to the U18 team when I was 14.”

“So you’re a prodigy?” Lauren Cheney asked. I only shrugged my shoulders at that.

I wasn’t sure that I would call myself a prodigy. I put in a lot of work into my game, but it did feel like soccer was in my blood. Like I was meant to play this game.

“As if some pipsqueak could get a ball past any goalie worth being on a national team.”

A lot of the players in front of me turned to the voice that came from the back of the group. A few even glared at the person. I could only look anywhere else but at the woman who had made the remark as she narrowed her eyes at me.

“I don’t think you could even get one ball past me.”

A few of the older players started to scold the woman while the others muttered amongst themselves.

“I think the coaches would beg to differ.”

All of the older players went silent as all of their eyes turned back to me. I still refused to make eye contact with any of them or even look at the woman as she pushed her way to the front of the group.

“The opinions of our coaches doesn’t matter if the facts state otherwise.”

“What facts? That I’m fifteen? I’m smaller than you?” I asked as I finally met Hope Solo’s eyes. “Everyone underestimates me. Everyone. And I thrive with the underestimations. And tomorrow, during practice, you’ll underestimate me and you don’t even know what I can do. You have no idea if you should or not. But you’ll do it anyway because of how small I am. Because of my age. And when I get that ball, every single touch will matter. And nothing you do will stop that.”

The two of us only stared at each other as Hope towered over me.

“Hey, break it up!” A new voice called out. Most of the women moved to the side, but Hope didn’t budge and I refused to break eye contact with her now. “I said break it up.”

Hope didn’t move. Not until Christie Rampone put her hand on the keeper’s arm.

“Just don’t be surprised when I crush your dreams tomorrow, kid.”

I watched Hope’s back as she turned and walked away from the group.

“What’s going on here?” Christie asked. I only moved my gaze down to my feet again. I didn’t want the eyes on me. Not like this. Christie’s gaze moved from me to the rest of the team when she realized that I wasn’t going to say anything. “I thought I told you all to back off the kid for now.”

There it was again.

Kid.

That’s all I was to everyone. Just some kid who had no idea what she was getting into.

“The kid’s got balls.”

I didn’t care who had said it as I pushed my way through them all so I could get to my room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hope wants you to take penalties against her,” Jill said as she looked down at me. I had my hands on my knees as I was trying to get my breath back after I had ran the length of the field to get the ball back before taking it back toward my team’s goal myself before I had gotten the assist. “You okay to do that?”

I stayed quiet as I nodded my head. I knew what she was doing. Hope either figured that I would chicken out and refuse to take the penalties or she would be able to stop them.

“No one can stop me,” I said as I stood up to look Jill in the eye. “That’s why you called me up, isn’t it? You saw that no one had an answer on how to stop me at the youth levels.”

“I called you up because you have potential.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” I said as I looked over where most of the team was. “You can tell them that your decision was based on potential, but don’t lie to me . And now you’re curious to know if Solo can stop me.”

“I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit confused as to why Hope wants to try to humiliate you,” Jill said as she looked over at Hope. “But I did call you up because of the potential. I mean, if you’re already able to play the way you currently are and you’re only fifteen, what can you do in a year after playing with the best women in the world?”

“I want to do the penalties. I want to show them I’m not just some kid who can’t hold their own.”

Jill turned her gaze back to me as she stared at me for a moment. I knew that practice was about to wrap up so it made sense for us to do this now anyways.

“Gather up!” Jill yelled, causing most of the players to turn to where we were standing. “Just know that Hope added an extra stipulation to it.”

Jill tossed me a water bottle as everyone on the team gathered around Jill.

“We’re going to have a penalty shoot out! five shots just like an in game shoot out,” Jill announced. A few of the players groaned. I wasn’t sure if the team had to do something like this a lot or not. “Today’s shoot out will be a little different, though. Solo in goal for all five while Knox shoots them all. Majority wins, just like in a game. If Hope saves 3, outfielders run extra laps. If Jo makes 3, goalies run extra laps.”

I didn’t miss the way some of the older players were muttering to each other about the rules. This was quite unfortunate. If I somehow wasn’t able to make 3 of my penalties then I was really screwed because I knew that the older players would absolutely hate that I hadn’t been able to back up my talk from the previous night and be the reason they had to run extra.

“Line up!”

Everyone else moved to the midfield as Hope headed for the goal. I trailed behind Jill who picked up a ball.

“You really want everyone to hate me, don’t you?”

“I really want to see if you’re as good as you think,” Jill said. She glanced over her shoulder at me. “Score 3 of them and none of them will hate you.”

I sighed as Jill handed me the ball before she moved to talk to Hope. I stopped at the penalty spot before I placed the ball how I wanted it. I eventually moved back when I was sure that I had the ball like I wanted it.

I waited for Jill to finish talking to Hope before she moved to the side. I tried to ignore all of the eyes on my back. It was just a penalty, I didn’t even have to get past any defenders. I waited until Jill blew the whistle.

Then I waited one more moment as I finally picked my spot.

I rushed toward the ball before I put as much power as I could behind the shot. The ball sailed perfectly into the top left corner as Hope had just missed the ball by less than a fingertip. I didn’t miss the cheers behind me. I grinned even as Hope glared at me.

I stopped the ball with my foot when Jill kicked it toward me before I picked the ball up. I placed the ball back like I wanted it before moving back behind the ball. I waited until I heard the whistle. This time I didn’t give Hope any extra seconds as I was rushing forward as soon as I heard the whistle. The ball hit the top left corner again.

This was going well for me. I already had two of the three goals that I needed. And Hope hadn’t been able to stop even one. I took a deep breath as I placed the ball on the penalty spot for a third time.

I gave myself an extra moment again this time, but this one lasted even longer than the first time I had taken an extra moment. I just needed one more in the back of the net. This time the ball fired off of the sidebar before knocking into the goal.

The posts were still rattling as Hope threw a glare at me, but I only smirked and shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t actually care about myself having to run, but I had wanted to prove that I knew what I was doing. And it definitely helped that I had gotten to show off against the Hope Solo in the process.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That was an amazing game,” Julie Foudy said. I grinned at the praise that I was receiving through the headset. “Tell me about it from your perspective.”

“You know, I just wanted to go in and show everyone what I could do,” I shrugged. It was true. I had really just wanted to show what I could do at this level. “I didn’t exactly expect to get a goal coming in so late if I’m honest. But I’m happy to have been able to help the team get the win.”

“And your first cap and goal comes against Canada. That’s got to be an amazing feeling,” Julie said as I nodded. It really had been amazing. “Knowing what our rivalry with Canada is like and having played them before. It’s a great game to get your first cap.”

“Yeah, it was definitely incredible. I don’t think I could have asked for a much better opponent to get my first cap against,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder where I watched as the rest of my team was headed to the locker rooms. “It’s definitely different getting to play in the game rather than just watching it on TV. And if today was any indication of how hard the games against Canada always are, I’m looking forward to future games.”

“Well, do you have any plans when you get home? I mean, you just got your first cap and it’s time for summer break.”

“Uh, not so much as fun plans right off the bat. I have finals to take when I get home,” I admitted. I rubbed the back of my neck at the reminder. “After that, I don’t have many plans other than soccer. Might take a trip to the lake sometime over the summer if I’m lucky. Just have to see what my summer schedule turns out to look like.”

“All right, well, I’ll let you get to the locker room so you can celebrate your first cap with the team.”

I gave the camera one last wave before I pulled the headset off and handed it off to one of the crew members before I headed down the tunnel. I was a bit surprised when I stepped into the locker room only to have water dumped onto my head. I couldn’t help the grin that broke out on my face though as a lot of the older players cheered around me.

“Okay! Okay! Settle down!” Christie called out. She had a ball in her hands as everyone settled down. “We have the game ball for Jo to celebrate her first cap and her first goal which gave us the win over Canada!”

Everyone cheered again as Christie handed me the ball.

“Go ahead and say a few words, kid.”

Everyone went quiet again as I rolled the ball in my hands. I wasn’t even sure what to say.

“I’ve been watching this team ever since I could remember. Some of you, I’ve been looking up to ever since I was a really little kid. Some of you, I’ve only been looking up to you in the most recent years. But it has always been a dream to get to play with this team and it’s been amazing to get my first cap with such an amazing group of women,” I said as I looked around the locker room. “I really can’t wait to get more training time at camps and work with all of you even more. And I guess the last thing is, I’d like you all to sign the ball so I can always remember who was here for my first cap.”

It didn’t take long until I had the ball back in my hands after the team had passed it around to sign it. Now I was standing in probably the only person in the locker room who still had a bone to pick with me. I held the ball out to Hope as she stared at it.

“Come on,” I said as I only pushed the ball further toward her. “It’d be a shame if I didn’t get the whole team to sign the ball. And last time I checked, you’re part of the team.”

Hope rolled her eyes but she took the ball from me before signing it. I grinned once Hope gave me the ball back.

“I still don’t like you that much.”

“You don’t have to. You just have to be my teammate.”

#uswnt imagine #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagines #leah williamson imagines #uswnt #woso #leah williamson

[cameronspecial]

A New Kind Of Normal (Part 4)

Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Being Arrested

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: Stella is now four years old and Rafe gets to celebrate that first milestone with her.

Masterlist

Four years old. His little girl is four years old and Rafe finally gets to be there for one of Stella’s special days. He was quick to say yes when Y/N asked him to help plan the birthday party. She can swear he is more excited about the celebration than Stella as he pitches big and wild ideas. By the time May 17th comes around, she is able to talk him down from hiring someone to bring in safari animals to a Halloween-themed party with family members and daycare friends. With his excitement, the party also brings in the nerves of meeting Y/N’s family. He knows she told them the truth about him, but she said she explained how much he has changed for Stella. So he is a little on edge about what they are going to think about him and vows to himself to be on his best behaviour. 

Rafe finds himself setting up cauldrons filled with candies on a fold-out table in a black cat costume. Witch Y/N comes out to the backyard with a black cat-shaped piñata and a wooden broom. “If I was really being a bad boy, then you could’ve just told me. You don’t need to beat it out of me,” he jokes. Y/N giggles, heading over to the tree, “I don’t think any amount of spanking could turn you good.” His cheeks redden and he walks over to help her tie the piñata string around the tree branch when he notices her struggle. 

His breath falls on the back of his neck and his chest is flushed against her back. It takes everything in her not to take a peek at his abs that are on display thanks to his shirt lifting up. She looks up to watch him dangle the cardboard cat. He finishes up and looks down at her. They smile once their eyes meet. The moment is interrupted by Benedict coming outside with Stella in his arms. Her older brother notices their body language, “I hope we aren’t interrupting anything.”  “Mommy, Uncle Benny said he and me can throw paint at his walls tomorrow. Can I go, please?” Stella begs, not noticing the position her parents are in. Y/N and Rafe pull apart. Rafe holds his hand out to shake, “I’m Rafe, Stella’s dad. It’s nice to meet you.” Benedict shifts Stella to one arm and takes Rafe’s hand. “Nice to meet you too. I’m Y/N’s older brother, Benedict.” Rafe isn’t too sure what to say next, but luckily Y/N is able to break the silence. “Benny, can you help Rafe finish setting up? I have to get Stells changed into her costume,” she directs, leaving Rafe and Benedict alone with Stella’s pleas to go over to her uncle’s house tomorrow fading in the distance.

Unlucky for him, she says exactly what he doesn’t want her to, but he nods anyway. Rafe and Benedict keep working on the decorations. A few minutes later, a man, a woman and a teenager come out back; they all look like Y/N in various ways. The woman exclaims, “I can’t believe my grandbaby is already four.” The trio notices Rafe and freezes. Benedict is the one to rescue him, “Mom, Dad, Josh. This is Rafe, Stella’s dad.” Her mother and father give an unpleased look at him and he feels his heart deflate. He paints a smile on his face and holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N, Mr. Y/L/N, and Joshua,” he introduces, shaking all their hands. When her parents don’t say he can call them by their first names, he feels he didn’t make a good impression on them. 

Joshua gives him a smile that helps give him some hope, “It’s good to meet you. Stella has told me some great things about you.” At least, Y/N’s brothers seem to be okay with him. Y/N returns before the conversation can continue and everyone finishes putting up the decorations. 

——

The party is just beginning. Stella is running around the backyard with her friends while the adults talk to each other. None of the parents want to talk to Rafe because all they know is he was Stella’s absentee father up until recently and none of them are keen to learn more about him. Benedict is busy playing with the kids and Josh is talking to some of the parents. “Hi, sorry we are a little late. The ferry wasn’t on time,” Rose apologizes, placing a gift on the presents table. Wheezie and Sarah follow her actions and they all go looking for Stella. She spots the three Camerons arriving, running toward them. “Grammie, Auntie Wheezie, Auntie Sarah,” she screams. The little girl throws herself into the Cameron women's arms, giving them each a kiss on the cheek. 

Ever since Stella met her grandmother and aunts, she has been hooked on being exactly like them. She wants to be as determined as Rose, as kind to the environment as Sarah and as funny as Wheezie. While watching the scene, Y/N heads over to her parents. “You guys need to start talking to Rafe. I can see you guys are making him nervous,” she demands, giving them the disapproving mother look she mastered thanks to Stella. Her father gives her a questioning look, “How can we let him into our lives when we don’t know if he is here to stay? When we don’t know if he is going to break your and Stella’s hearts?” She understands her parents' fear. They were so supportive of her pregnancy and continuing school. They knew how much she struggled with the decision not to tell Rafe because of the rumours of who he was and with being a single mother in general. And it’s understandable that they don’t want to go through that all over again. However, Y/N has seen the effort Rafe has put into changing and her parents need to give him a chance to prove that to them. “Yes, he may have needed to get sober before he met Stella. But he worked hard to do so and I’m proud of him. Watch how great he is with Stella. It will show you how great of a father he is,” she promises. 

They take their daughter’s word into consideration and watch as Rafe approaches his step-mom, sisters and daughter. Stella jumps into her father’s arms, “Daddy, can I open my present from you, please? It looks so pretty.” Rafe hates to tell her no, but he knows what Y/N would want him to say. “Little witch, if it was just me and you today, then of course you can,” he begins to explain. “But we are at your birthday party and it would be rude to open just one gift at the beginning. Before we played the games, had dinner and cut the cake. I promise when Mommy says it is time to open presents, you can open my gift first.” The little girl takes a second to consider what her dad said. She nods her head and runs off to play with her friends. 

Y/N’s parents are impressed by how Rafe handled the situation. They can’t deny he was great with their granddaughter and decide they should apologize for how they were treating him. They approach him with a timid smile. “Mrs. and Mr. Y/L/N, is there anything I can help you with?” he asks, looking excited because he may or may not have overheard their conversation with Y/N. Mallory gives an apologetic look, “Please, call us Mallory and Winston. We are here to say sorry for how we’ve been treating you. We couldn’t see that you changed before. You really are amazing with Stella.” “You are and we’d like to get to know you more in a more suitable environment. How about you come over for dinner tomorrow?” Winston offers. Rafe is overjoyed with their sudden change, “I would love that. If it is not too much trouble for you guys, then I would love to make your family dinner at my place in the Outer Banks.” “Winston and I would love that.” 

——

Stella sits with her presents surrounding her. Her excitement to open them all warms everyone’s hearts. “Which one do you want to open first, Baby?” Y/N inquiries, looking at all the bigger boxes Stella will probably want to open. Stella picks a more medium-sized box, “This one is Daddy’s. He said I can open it first.” She looks at her mother to confirm she is allowed to open the gift and immediately rips the dark purple paper apart when she gets the confirmation. The paper beneath shows a lavender cardboard box closed with packing tape. She struggles with pulling the flaps of the box open and looks up at her dad with pleading eyes. “Please, Daddy, help me open it.” Rafe jogs over to his little witch and pulls it open for her. 

He wraps his arms around her waist to lift her up, so she can see into the box. She pulls the tissue paper out of the box and pulls out the fluffy black stuffed cat. Her squeal is deafening, but her eyes widen at the pretty Taurus constellation necklace the cat is wearing as a collar. Each star is a small diamond. Y/N’s eyes bulge at the sight as well, knowing the necklace is expensive. She wants to demand that he takes it back, but she doesn’t want to ruin this bonding moment between the father and daughter. “Daddy, can you put it on for me, please?” she questions, holding it up to him. He gives her a kiss on the temple, “Of course. I want you to remember how much I love you every time you wear it. And know that whenever I look up to the stars, I’m thinking about you, little witch.” 

——

“Thank you so much for watching her. Benny got into a little trouble and uhh… he definitely isn’t in a place that I should take Stells. And my parents can’t get him because they are doing some college tours with Joshua,” Y/N thanks, getting ready to leave. She looks over her shoulder to see Rafe holding Stella in his arms, “Are you guys going to be okay? I know that this is the first time you are going to be watching her.” “We are going to be great! I promise I got this and if I need you, then I got your number,” Rafe guarantees, looking at Stella for backup. She gives him a grin, “Yeah. Now, go help Uncle Benny so I can spend time with Daddy.” Y/N shakes her head at her daughter chasing her out of her own house. “Okay, I’m going. Bye, I love you,” Y/N says, running out of the door. Rafe stops himself from returning her words when Stella cries out, “I love you too, Mommy.” He remembers that Y/N doesn’t love him, she loves her daughter. 

Once Y/N is out of sight, he closes the door and looks at his daughter. “So what do you want to do, little witch?” She gives it a thought before answering, “Let’s make popcorn and then watch a movie!” Rafe laughs at her excitement and brings them to the kitchen. He places her on the counter, so he can go looking for the popcorn. Y/N doesn’t have microwave popcorn, instead, she has just the kernels in a glass jar. He looks around for a popcorn machine, but it goes unfound. “Where does Mommy keep the popcorn machine?” he inquires, opening up a different cabinet to check. Stella gives him an inquisitive look, “Popcorn machine? Mommy makes it on the stove.” This makes Rafe pause because he has never made popcorn on the stove. “Do we really need popcorn? We can have chips instead,” he suggests. She shakes her tiny head, “We always have popcorn when we watch a movie.” “Okay, but you are going to have to help Daddy,” he gives in, taking the kernel jar and bringing her closer to the stove. He gets a pot, holding it up to his daughter, “Is this big enough?” 

“Yes, that’s the one Mommy uses. She uses the oil in that bottle and uses the blue spoon to put some oil in the pan.” Under her guidance, Rafe gets the olive oil and finds the blue spoon, which is a tablespoon measuring cup. He has to sneak a look at a recipe on his phone to check how many tablespoons of oils he needs, so Stella doesn’t think she is doing a bad job at explaining to him. She continues to instruct him on how to make it and when it starts popping he jumps a little. Stella giggles at her father’s fear, “Daddy, you got scared!” He exaggerates his surprise to keep her laughing. “I did. Can you cuddle Daddy to make him less scared?” he begs, moving closer so she can wrap her arms around his neck.

The popcorn finishes popping and he lets her put as much white cheddar topping as she wants. Rafe goes to examine their DVD collection and an unmarked box catches his attention. He pulls it off of the shelf, opening it up to reveal: The Love I Used To Have, starring Y/N Y/L/N. His mouth turns into a grin and he holds the box up to his daughter. “Do you want to watch this? Your mommy is in it,” he suggests to the toddler. Her excitement shines through and she jumps up and down while clapping. “Yes, yes. I want to see Mommy in a movie.” They get settled on the couch with her nestled under his arm. Stella pops some of the popcorn into his mouth and he has to stop himself from cringing at the amount of white cheddar in his mouth. “Hmm, this is really good, little witch. Good job,” he praises, giving her a smile. She grins at his words and eats some herself. He turns on the movie and they begin to watch.

The title of the short film fades onto the screen, disappearing to reveal the close-up of an eye crying. Rafe instantly recognizes it. How could he not when the image of those eyes rolling while he goes down on her is what haunts his dreams? Y/N’s eyes blink and the shot changes to a wide shot of her at a cemetery. “That’s Mommy,” Stella identifies with her finger pointed toward the screen. He kisses her head, “It is.” 

As the short film progresses, Rafe is blown away by Y/N’s acting talents. She is able to evoke the feeling of loss from him so easily and he truly feels like he is experiencing falling in love with her co-star and then losing her. He may not have lost Y/N in the same way as her character, but the emotion she displays makes it easy for him to match his loss with hers. It makes him want to ask her if she did have someone she loves die and if that is the feeling she is tapping into for this project. The movie comes to an end and he brushes his tears away to hide them from Stella. “Mommy is good at acting,” she whispers, looking up at her father, who can only nod in agreement. 

——

The rest of the afternoon turned into a Halloweentown marathon and halfway through movie number three, they had to pause for a second to wait for the food they ordered. Stella is held in his arms, playing with the gold chain around her father’s neck. “Daddy,” she catches his attention. He hums to show that he is listening. “Do you love me?” Rafe’s eyes stop looking out the open door to look at her, “Of course I love you.”

“Forever?”

“Little witch, I love you forever and always.”

The elation in her eyes makes him happy and she rests her head on his chest with a sigh, “I love you forever and always too.” 

——

Y/N comes home to find Stella asleep in Rafe’s hold while his focus is completely on the TV. He is so invested in Return to Halloweentown that he doesn’t notice Y/N walk in. “How is Marnie going to get herself out of this pickle?” he whispers to himself. Y/N joins him on the couch, “Don’t worry, she will.” Rafe, for the second time today, jumps out of his seat, but a little softer with Stella in his arms. “I did not see you come in. Is Benedict okay?” he leans in to ask so as to not wake up the sleeping girl. 

“Yeah, he got off with a warning this time. The police just wanted someone to pick him up so he wouldn't do it again. The paperwork was a nightmare though.”

“That’s bureaucracy, Buttercup. Let me just help you get her to bed and I’ll head out.”

Rafe lifts himself off the couch and at the movement, Stella wakes up. “Mommy, you’re home,” she mutters in a tired voice. Y/N smoothes the girl’s muddy hair down, “I am, Baby. Why don’t we go to bed and say goodbye to Daddy?” Stella hasn’t forgotten her plan to help her father out with her mother and decides this is the perfect time to put it into motion. “But I want Daddy to sleep over. Mommy, it’s so late,” she draws out the last vowel. Y/N gives her a tight-lipped shake of the head, “I know, but Daddy has to go home, Stells.”

 “NO! I want Daddy to stay.”

“Stella Rachel Y/L/N. I said Daddy can’t. Now, go get ready for bed.”

Stella disobeys her mother and continues to cry her head off. Y/N starts biting her nails, trying to think of how to handle this situation. Rafe can see how tired Y/N is and wants to help. “I can sleep over if you want. I don’t mind taking the couch,” he offers. At her father’s words, Stella’s cries continued, “No, I want Daddy to sleep with me in Mommy’s room with Mommy.” He doesn’t know how to help Y/N with that. Y/N is too tired to argue at this point and gives in to her daughter’s wants, “Okay, he can stay with us.” Stella’s screams immediately stop. She gets off of the couch and goes to get ready for bed. “Did I just get tricked by my four-year-old?” Y/N ponders, turning toward Rafe. He gives her a shrug, “If it makes you feel better, I thought she was having a real tantrum.”

——

Y/N and Rafe stare at each other awkwardly from over Stella’s head. She had insisted that she sleep sandwiched between the pair and that they hugged each other while they slept. Rafe never thought he would be in Y/N’s bed; he doesn’t really know what to make of it, but he isn’t complaining. “I’m sorry she threw a tantrum and now you have to sleep here,” Y/N murmurs, smoothing down Stella’s hair. He gives her a smile, “It’s okay. I have nowhere to be tomorrow. Plus, I like being here for our daughter.” “That’s great. I know she loves it when you are here,” she confesses. His eyes find the ones that were on the TV screen a few hours ago, “How come you never tried to get your big break at acting? I know you couldn’t move out to LA or New York because of the diner, but you could’ve still sent out self-tapes.” “It wouldn’t have been practical with Stella. I needed a steady income and acting couldn’t provide me with the stability I needed for her,” she explains, fidgeting with her nails under the blanket. 

“But you are such a good actress. It is your dream.”

“It was my dream, Rafe. But I was going to have a baby and she became my priority.”

Rafe wishes that he could’ve been there when Stella was born, then maybe Y/N wouldn’t have had to leave her dream behind. He promises to himself that he will help bring stability to his little family so that Y/N can chase after what she genuinely wants in life. He goes to express that feeling but finds Y/N’s eyes closed. Her soft snores are an indication he isn’t going to get an answer. “I love you both. Forever and always,” he vows, kissing them both on the cheek. 

——

The next morning, Rafe is the first to wake up and he decides to make breakfast for his girls. He wants to help alleviate some of Y/N’s stress because that’s what one does for the people one loves. It may be a little early to say he loves her, but just being with her makes him happy and he has never felt his way before. He should ask her out on a date. Stella and Y/N find Rafe cooking waffles for everyone. Their little girl goes running to him and wraps herself in his legs. “Good morning, Daddy! Can I have some waffles too, please?” He moves away from the waffle maker, kneeling to return her hug, “Of course, little witch. I’m making food for everyone. Why don’t you go sit at the table? There is some bacon already there. This is the last waffle that I need to make.” “Okay. Thank you, Daddy! Forever and always,” she yells. She runs back to the table and Y/N gives him a confused look. “Forever and always? What does she mean by that?” she probes, coming closer to him. He looks over at her with a smile, “She asked me yesterday if I loved her. And I said forever and always. I guess that’s how she is saying I love you now.”

“Oh, that’s cute. You didn’t have to make breakfast, Button. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Buttercup. This may not be my house, but Stella is my responsibility too. Making sure she is fed is a part of my duties.”

The family eats breakfast in harmony with each other like they have always been together since Stella was born. She would do adorable things that would warm her parents’ hearts and they would do piney things that would give her hope. Y/N is washing the dishes while Rafe and Stella hang out at the table. “Daddy, you should ask Mommy out on a date,” Stella advises in a hushed tone. His eyebrow darts at his daughter’s words, “And what do you know about dates, little witch?” 

“Mommy and I watch lots of Hallmark movies. You look at each other like they do in the movies.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, and you smile whenever you see her. And try to touch her hand.” 

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

Little does she know that her dad has already thought about it and is planning on doing it once her hearing ears are out of the room. 

——

Stella is in the bathroom, pooping as she announced to her parents. This leaves Y/N and Rafe alone in the living room waiting to see if she is going to need any help. Rafe finds the chain of his watch, playing with the link of the golden band, “I was thinking… maybe we could go mini golfing sometime and then we could go to dinner.” “Oh, that’d be great. Stella loves mini golfing. She says it’s like a tiny world perfect for kids,” she informs, giving him a smile.

“Actually, I was thinking it could be a date.” 

Her smile falls and Rafe feels as though his world stopped turning. “Rafe, I like you. I really do, but I don’t think we should date,” she breaks his heart with those words. “Some people suggest that you shouldn’t date when you are just getting sober. It’s not that I don’t believe you will stay sober. It’s that I think it would be better to focus on your sobriety and Stella.” He quickly nods his head, wanting to move past this awkward moment, “Right, I understand.” “Yeah, you are such a great dad to Stella and I really appreciate the effort you put into being with her. I hope you know that.” Their daughter’s call for help with wiping her butt causes Y/N to leave him alone in the room. He knows what she said makes sense and he probably shouldn’t jump head-first into another new commitment. But it still doesn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach at her no. 

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[fluorescentbalaclava]

training season's over (double chapter)

Chapter 7: Gleaming & Chapter 8: FISH n' CHIPS

Summary:

Gleaming

To describe something as good, desirable or brilliant. A particular favourite of the Guards Division. If something is ‘gleaming’ you’re probably onto a good thing.

FISH n' CHIPS acronyms, Fighting In Someone's House and Causing Havoc In People's Streets.

TF141/female reader, König/female reader

spy reader, forced bonding, slow burn, slow build, military inaccuracies, suggestive language, language, canon typical violence, second chance, domestic fluff, enemies to friends, becoming buddies, referenced torture, hurt/comfort, hugs, bar fights, alcohol, cuddles

previous: chapter six "contact"

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Chapter 7

How to tell a guy has a crush on you?

You immediately groan to yourself for googling this at your grown age. There was a time when you dated, you even had a boyfriend before all of this. Still, it feels like a lifetime ago, those thoughts were pushed to the back of your head for a while, but after your encounter with König you need answers. 

God, at what point I got so disconnected with emotions?

Ah, the good old WikiHow.

 1 - He talks to you—a lot.

Uhm...maybe?

2 - He makes eye contact.

Definitely, it’s kinda unsettling sometimes.

3 - He gives you his full attention.

Uh... I mean, yes. But isn't this like the bare minimum?

4 - He laughs at your jokes.

This is ridiculous.

5 - He tries to impress you.

Eh, perhaps.

7 - He lowers his voice when he speaks to you.

The fuck?

You cringe at yourself, before closing your computer and placing it next to you. I mean, maybe it’s not romantically? He clearly cares about you, after all, you don't just go through that for anyone, at least you wouldn't. Or would you? Fuck, this is hard.

König was---is your friend. You began to remember the first time you met him; you fresh joined KorTac, lined up in a row with other new recruits. Upcoming missions required weeks long deployments, and you were informed that some of you were needed for them as there was a shortage of staff in the base, due to the many operations KorTac was contracted to carry out, and that the commanding officers would pick a few rookies to fill the spots.

The first two officers went past you, not even giving you a second glance, just picking the biggest people in the row and calling it a day. The third of them, an American, just looked down at you and with a sarcastic tone said.

"I think you're in the wrong place, doll."

Cunt.

The sight of the fourth one immediately made everyone on the row stand straight. You heard someone beside you whisper "colonel". He was intimidating, tall as fuck, with a black sniper hood over his face and clear paint smeared on the fabric under the holes of his eyes, looking straight out of a Friday the 13th film.

He walked in silence, taking the time to examine each one of the remaining recruits in line. Opposite to the other officers, or at least the ones he talked to, he liked rookies. They were fresh meat, easy to mould to his liking. You saw him looking at you, slightly tilting his head like a curious dog, and you made yourself hold his gaze.

That might have caught his attention, because next thing you knew, he was in front of you. Looking down, probably standing too close on purpose only to make you look up even more, putting your neck in an uncomfortable position. God, it was humiliating.

"Name?" He asked, surprising you as his voice was not as deep as you expected.

"Sage, sir"

"SAS?" He asked, pointing at the Union Jack on your chest.

"No, sir. I was hired before I could try for selection. Corporal, British Army." You explained, and you saw him narrowing his eyes while looking at your face.

"You're coming with me, Maus." He said before simply turning around and walking away. Leaving you a little dumbfounded, as well as your fellow comrades, but soon you followed after.

And that was it, just like that you were under his command until you had the requirements to try and become a sergeant. You never asked him why he exactly did it, you didn’t want him to feel like you were questioning him. He was your superior, after all. Google just told you that "Maus" was a common term of endearment in German.

Those thoughts brought back to that day in Uzlovoye, Russia. Everything felt calm enough— just a rural town, you thought. You really don't remember much; you remember getting into what seemed like an abandoned building and having to collect a computer with vital information inside a bunker. You remember hands behind you, König's voice asking for updates through the comm, the growing anxiety in his voice at the lack of response, the hands squeezing your neck, and then everything went black. The next thing you remember was lifting your head, trying to move to no avail, something hard behind you, the feeling of restraints all around your body, and the disgusting smell of rust and humidity.

A knock on your door distracts you.

“Who is it?”

“Me,” Soap voice says from outside the door.

“Come in.”

He opened the door, finding you resting on your bed already in your pyjamas. One with bunnies this time. Looking around, he quickly realises you have already made yourself quite at home. The room is fully decorated now, except for some boxes piling up in the corner. He could even bet you would have painted the walls as well, if given the chance. You can tell he’s also ready for bed with a shirt from some band you don’t even know and tartan pyjama bottoms.

“Came for a tour?” You said it with a teasing tone from bed, looking up at him.

“Oh, sorry” He answered clearing his throat.

“I'm here to formally invite ye to our monthly film night” Soap said with a playful, elegant tone.

"Monthly? How come I'm first learning about this? I've been here for four months already" Seeing Soap standing on the doorway with a cocky grin.

"Sure, ye can get mad at us for not inviting ye...or ye can be over the moon we are doing it now" He said teasingly.

"Fine...just give me a minute."

And now you were there, in the usual sitting position, with Gaz in the middle, you on one side and Soap on the other. Ghost and Price are sitting on individual sofa at each end of the couch. All of them looked more casual, in their pyjamas as well. Maybe next time you could convince them to do a face mask and turn this into a proper sleepover, like the ones you held with your girlfriends back in high school. You brought a blanket with you to snuggle as well as a cardigan, the base felt like a freezer in the winter.

They did a rock, paper, scissors competition to see who picked the film. Something in you got suspicious when everyone groaned when Price won, even Ghost, but you gave his taste in movies the benefit of the doubt.

Fucking hell...

He picked Gangs of New York, and about half an hour later, the only thing keeping you awake was the feeling of your head bobbling every time you were close to falling asleep.

The only thing keeping Kyle entertained was seeing how hard you were trying to stay awake. From what Johnny told him, you apparently had trouble sleeping, often waking at night to sneak to the kitchen. So, to try and help you, at some point he shifted his shoulder a bit, so when you fell asleep, your head fell against it.

He felt how your breath slowly became even and calm, and you soon were sleeping like a baby. At least she can spare herself from this. As much as he tried to keep focused on the screen, trying to at least follow the storyline, you kept leaning more of your weight against him, seeking his warmth, to which he felt his cheeks warming up.

He took a look around, Ghost was watching the screen, Soap was asleep as well, and Price was watching the picture attentively.

His hand was awkwardly behind you, not sure what to do with it, as your body was pressed on his side. After a few minutes of consideration, he decided that to be comfortable, or so he told himself, to delicately put his arm around your waist, careful to be respectful and gentle. You shifted slightly, and he almost pulled away, but you just snuggled more against him, making him confident enough to cuddle you some more.

He leaned back on the couch, relaxing. It was surprisingly pleasant to rest like that. He could feel the warmth of your body underneath your clothes and how your body gently moved with each breath.

The light of the television illuminated your sleeping face, your muscles relaxed and a peaceful expression, quite the opposite of what he normally sees in you. You looked like a powerhouse when you trained, running through the o course like it was nothing, doing series after series at the gym, and relentlessly hitting whatever thing you had in front of you to train: the bag, mannequins, or Soap. 

In your sleeping thoughts, the heat coming from an unknown source was soothing, the aroma of cologne appearing in your dreams and the softness of the cotton of his shirt against your cheek.

He tried to remember the last time he ever was with someone like this. Probably before he joined the 141. Since he met Price, his life has been dedicated to the task force, his country, and saving the world. He almost forgot how nice this was.

The thoughts started to drift even more.

He imagined coming back to someone after work, lying like that while relaxing after a hard day of work, ordering takeout, watching the telly, and then heading to the bedroom. He didn’t realise until now that he craved that, the intimacy of a partner and the closeness of someone outside his friends. So focused on his job he almost forgot the feeling of a warm body pressed against him, the softness of the fabric of your shirt under his hand, your steady breath...he felt slightly flustered at the thoughts crossing his head, but he allowed himself to enjoy in silence. Just two co-workers resting on an evening—it wasn't a big deal. You looked adorable, he had to admit. And he enjoyed the moments he spent with you off-duty; going for the groceries, watching reality TV, or going for runs in the morning. All the stuff he dreaded or felt like chores of civilian life was now enjoyable. They almost made him forget he was a soldier, that he was in a base, and that you are there because you are a criminal. Of course, he would never tell you any of that.

"Kyle" You whispered groggily, snapping him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at you. You couldn’t even open your eyes, the sight bringing a soft smile to his face.

"How long until it ends?" You added it, making him chuckle silently.

"It's almost three hours long, and we're only one hour in, luv" He whispered back, amused.

"For fuck's sake" You muttered in an annoyed groggy tone, curling up on yourself even more while pulling the blanket up, wrapping yourself as you were still leaning against him, going back to sleep.

He could get used to this.

Chapter 8

With a unanimous vote, or so they told you, they decided to take you to the Battleship, a small bar close to the base opened by a retired SAS member mostly for other soldiers to hang out in.

You decided on putting on a long-sleeve shirt with some open buttons on the front that let it hang open enough for your tank top to peek out. As well as just some normal jeans, your tactic boots, and a jacket. You also decided to leave your hair down with clips to prevent it from falling all over your face. And just the tiniest bit of makeup—you were actually excited to see yourself a bit more dolled up than usual. Still casual enough, you think.

When Price sees you, a realization quickly strikes him. Yes, you were a merc, a spy, and you murder people—all crimes he was already too familiar with, and by the looks of it, so were you. But you were only a girl. When you arrived with a soft smile to meet them in the car park, it was like you didn't belong there with them. In other circumstances, you probably would have finished college by now; you would be getting ready to go out with your girlfriends for a drink after a normal day of work and chatter about your lives; you'd have a flat (a new one); and probably a partner. But instead, whatever life choices you made brought you here, going out on a Saturday night with four war criminals, older than you, to a shitty bar on the side of the road. He almost feels pity for you.

Pity he's quickly snapped out of when, apparently, once you got in the Jeep and you were getting comfortable, Soap got in behind you, accidentally pulling your hair with his arm against the seat, to which you winced and almost instinctively threw a very hard push against his shoulder, making him loudly groan but back out.

"Get off my hair," you said, glaring at him, picking up your hair and putting it over one of your shoulders, brushing it together again.

"I'm trying, but it's fuckin' everywhere. Can't ye put on a ponytail or something? Jesus Christ, no need to dislocate my shoulder." He said it with a small wince of pain, rubbing his shoulder.

"Muppets, behave," Price said with a sigh before getting into the driver seat.

It's probably going to be a long night.

He had yet to ask you for what fucked-up reason you ended up enlisting in the first place. But he saw you were uncomfortable enough when he tried to make you call your parents more frequently, and he didn't want to push any further.

He saw on the rearview mirror that Soap and you had made peace, and he was now telling you about how terrible the new recruits were and how they couldn't even handle a few runs around the base, and he was surprised when he heard a “I give them two more weeks” from Ghost, who was sitting next to you.

You seem well enough, considering your situation. He was glad when Kyle came to him, asking for permission to take you along with Soap to the town on a small shopping spree by the sounds of it.

Soap very much enjoyed the little getaway, even if it was for mundane things such as going to the supermarket, the bakery, and a small shop to get your mug. They made you wait in another aisle while Gaz and him debated between getting you the “I’m not short, I’m just more down to earth than most people!” one or the "Don't be a cuntcake" one that had a little drawing of a cupcake. Ultimately, their decision was the right one when you opened the box and cringed at the mug about your height. He really enjoyed getting to taste the macarons you bought. They were a bit overpriced for his liking, but they were tasty, so it was worth it.

"So... thoughts?" Gaz said, walking beside you as you entered the bar.

"It's...not bad," you say slowly, looking around.

It's clearly not your style or your idea of a bar. The decorations look like they were clearly chosen by a retired soldier (in a bad way), and it reeks of cigarettes; you could be smoking two cigars yourself by the amount of smoke you're breathing. Needless to say, it is quite busy, and Ghost and Price walk in front of you, with Soap behind as they go to the bar. Gaz just chuckled, probably sensing that this wasn't really your cup of tea.

"After a drink, it'll grow in you," he says as you start walking to the counter as well.

"Price! It's been a while, mate, what you've been up to?" The man at the counter asked cheerfully, already grabbing a bottle of whisky.

"Very busy months, Arthur. We are catching a break while we can," the captain answered while leaning on the counter.

"He is the owner," Gaz whispered to you.

You glanced at the man, looking him up and down. Checkered shirt, long beard, curly hair, missing a leg. Probably the reason why he retired in the first place.

"Oh, and who's this? Your daughter?" He said it with the same cheerful attitude, noticing you were looking at him and extending his hand to you. You chuckled as you shook his hand, and Gaz and Soap snickered at the comment as well.

"How old do you think I am? No, she's a new recruit," Price said in a mock-offended tone.

"Sa---...eh, Wire" Old habits die hard.

"Sorry, John. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.” He said it with a friendly tone, letting you go and putting a small bowl of peanuts in front of you.

“What can I do for you today?"

"Water, I have to drive."

"Whisky"

"Bourbon"

"Guinness, please"

"Do you have absinthe?"

"I actually do! It's been a while since someone ordered, but we serve it the classic way. Give me a moment." The man behind the counter, seemingly excited by the request, left to search for the necessary tools on the back.

When you looked next to you, your teammates were looking at you as if you had a second head.

"What?" Your tone was already defensive.

"Are you an alcoholic, bonnie?" Soap answered with his own question.

"I like the taste! It’s like liquorice."

"That doesn't help your case, luv," Gaz said teasingly, winning a playful scoff from you.

"Fuck off, it's just to warm up."

After Arthur came back, he made a small show of serving your absinthe, ice-cold water, absinthe spoon, and sugar cube, and you were surprised to even see a Pontarlier reservoir glass. After that, he went to serve the rest of the drinks less excitedly.

Once the first round was finished and Soap gagged after asking to try your drink, the five of you left the counter in favour of an empty table next to the pool, dividing into two teams: Soap and Ghost against Gaz and you. Price opted to be a spectator while smoking a cigar. After Ghost broke the aligned balls, their team had the solid ones, while you were left with stripes.

Alcohol must have really warmed you up because you were laughing more than usual at playful banter and at Soap's stupid dick jokes directed at Ghost regarding balls and pool cues.

Simon grumbled, but deep down, he didn't mind. For a change, it was nice to hear your laugh and to see your cheeks flush as you got hot from laughing and the heat of the place. He could see the men from the other tables ogling you, and although he knew you were perfectly capable of handling them yourself, he couldn't help but shoot glares in their direction when you weren't looking, making them immediately turn around at the sight of a man like Ghost catching them red-handed. A strange feeling of protectiveness was brewing in his chest—something about someone like you in a place like this and surrounded by rough men. It was foolish to think; he was well aware, and he felt almost embarrassed to even entretain the idea. Three months ago, he hated you and everything about you, and he let Price know multiple times that it was a terrible idea to have a criminal on the team.

But now...he had to look away when you bent over the table on your turn; suddenly, the inside of his mask was too warm.

"I need a drink," you announced, bubbly, stretching your back before handing Gaz your pool cue.

"No more absinthe, bonnie, won't hold yer hair while you throw up." Soap said, teasing, making you chuckle.

"I'm getting a coke; don't worry, mom."

"And I'm going to the bathroom," Price announced from the nearby table.

"Does anyone want anything?" You asked as you began to walk away.

"No thanks, luv," Gaz said, as Soap and Ghost only shook their heads as they were studying the table, seeing the best way to proceed as they were losing.

You walked away to the counter, which was across the bar, allowing the three men to keep sight of you.

Soap lowered his upper body over the table, hitting a red ball but missing the pocket, making him curse under his breath. Gaz chuckled at this, and they had a small break while you got back since it was your turn. He saw you waiting for Arthur to be done with another customer when a man he didn't recognize but saw on a nearby table approached you, shamelessly putting his hand around your waist as he stood beside you. The men on his table were watching the scene with a smirk on their faces.

This made him annoyed, and apparently, he wasn't the only one.

"Fucking dogs." Soap said, standing next to Ghost.

"Should we go for her?" Gaz asked, trying his best not to sound too eager. He saw you turn around with a scowl, clearly not happy.

"Lass can take care of herself," Ghost bluntly answered. Although his eyes were betraying him, he was still glued to the scene.

When he turned to look back at you, you were saying something to the man while glaring at him. The men chuckled and said something back, and you rolled your eyes. Your face went back to face the front. Maybe you didn't mind?

Then he saw how the man's hand slithered down your back, and he felt his blood boiling. But before his hand could reach its destination, a quick blow from your elbow harshly met its own destination, connecting with the man's nose. Not only making him pull his hand away but making him fall back with a whine of pain, and now everyone’s eyes were on the scene.

"You fucking whore!" The man said loudly before he got up, clearly aggressive. But you weren't backing up, either.

"Fuck," Gaz said before he quickly hurried up to the scene, followed by Soap.

As they arrived, Gaz got in between the man and you, and Soap quickly held you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist. The man's friends are also holding him back, muttering stuff along the lines of “it’s not worth it” or “it’s just a chick.”

"Put your fucking bitch on a leash," he said angrily, blood pouring from his nose. Ah, a yank.

"Haud yer wheesht," Soap barked at him from behind you, still holding you as you tried to break free from his arms.

"I’ll chop your hands off." Not even you knew you had so much pent-up anger inside you, probably looking for the right situation to explode. Johnny was struggling more than he would like behind you, feeling like he was trying to hold back a bull. Bloody hell, maybe I should do more weightlifting.

"The fuck is your problem, mate?" Gaz through gritted teeth, but before the man could scream back, you were approached by Ghost. The man's eyes widened, and he stayed quiet, all the blood draining from his face.

"L-Lieutenant." He said this while standing straight, trying to sloppily clean the blood off his face with his hand.

"You are?" Ghost asked.

"Shadow Company, sir." You heard Soap muttering 'of course' under his breath, still holding you back.

"T-This girl broke my nose!" He said, pointing at you, making your efforts to break free from Soap's grip increased.

"Yer awfy crabbit, mo leannan," Soap whispered to you, not letting you go, trying to get you to calm down.

"Only because you tried to touch her ass like a fucking mutt in heat," Ghost answered bitterly, looking down at the man who looked as if he wanted the earth to swallow him.

"What’s the problem here?" Price approached the situation, fresh from the bathroom. At the sight of the captain, the man looked like he wanted to throw up.

"Graves men were getting handsy with the lass," Gaz explained, and he heard you groan in annoyance behind him.

"I can take care of him myself." You said through gritted teeth.

The same alcohol that made you giggle like a teenager is now making you thirsty for blood, as well as annoyed that they felt the need to handle the situation themselves, like you weren't an adult and a trained killing machine, just like them. All the frustration, sadness, and anger that you obediently swallowed in the first months of your new life, not wanting to worsen your already poor situation, is now coming back to bite you in the ass. You wanted to unleash every little one of your frustrations on the man in front of you.

"Mo chridhe, calm down," Soap said again. Gentle but struggling, you were using all your force to get out of his embrace.

"LT, help." He said in a strained voice as he kept trying to lock you in his arms, to which Simon rolled his eyes, but he eventually approached you. With ease, he wrapped his arm around your waist and threw you over his shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Simon," you said, now with a view of the 'Lieutenant Riley' written on his back.

"Some fresh air will do you good, flower." He said as he walked out of the bar carrying you.

This was a rather embarrassing situation, everyone was watching curiously. It was not the first time you were carried out of the bar, and certainly not your first fight. Probably not the last, either. You deep down knew that the gossip of the new girl getting into a fight and being carried away by her lieutenant was going to spread like wildfire on the base.

But, your head felt slightly woozy making you accept your fate as fresh air was starting to sound very nice.

"Sorry, Arthur," Price said with an apologetic look, looking at the bartender.

"Don't worry, John; good to see the new recruits still have some fire on them." He was hinting at the direction in which you disappeared.

"And you," Price said, turning around to the other men again. The main culprit is now holding a napkin against his nose, sitting down like a wet dog. John had a severe look on his face, making the men look more miserable. "Name. Now."

You sat in the Jeep with the door open. Ghost was standing in front of you, his mask lifted as he smoked a cigarette. You notice the blonde stubble; the concept of someone as big and intimidating as him being a blonde named Simon was quite funny, but right now you tried to focus on deep breaths, trying to calm your own anger down.

After a few minutes, you saw the Shadow Company men being pushed out of the bar by Gaz and Soap, followed by Price, who seemed to be on the phone. Your anger, far from diffusing, spikes again. You began to stand up again.

"Let them handle it." He says it in a calm tone, putting his free hand on your shoulder and making you sit again.

"I can handle it myself. My ass is the one involved, not yours," you answer, glaring up at him.

"I know you can, and as much as I would enjoy seeing you beat the shit out of them, you don't have to." He says, voice husky but surprisingly gently, looking down at you. You arched your brow at his words, and he decided to elaborate some more.

"Price is most likely calling Graves; they'll probably get a written reprimand, extra shit to do, and they will be banned from our sector on the base."

"I don't need Price to rat them out for me; I can take care of it."

"My point is that you don't have to. Listen: Despite everything, you are still on thin ice, flower. That thing is not a bracelet." He was gesturing to your ankle monitor.

"We don't give a shit if you kill them; in other circumstances, I would have gladly help you. Shadows are cunts, and they all act like mutts after a bone. But getting into a fight with people who are guests in our base is not a good view for the higher-ups, and Laswell and the Captain can only do so much in your defence." You listened attentively, his words making sense, but you still couldn't help but feel annoyed as you saw the man and his friends being escorted to their car, Price still on his call.

"Besides, you don't have to do it all yourself, you know?" He said that, and you directed your glance back to him.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have to take care of yourself alone. We are a team; we take care of each other." You can't help but show a hint of surprise on your face.

"Are we?"

"Yes."

After almost four months...the bastard.

A smile slipped from your lips, and he kept looking down at you. In another context, he would be pissed at giving in, but he let you savour your victory, you deserved it.

The moment was broken as Price approached.

"Back to base, muppets," he said, opening the driver door, not before watching the car of the members of the Shadow Company leave the car park.

Soap came behind him to ruffle your hair, making you groan playfully.

"You okay, bonnie?" He asked warmly.

Gaz also arrived behind him, handing you your forgotten jacket and a can of Coke he bought you.

"Thanks, Kyle...yeah, I'm fine. Fuck... I’m sorry." A hint of embarrassment got to you as you rubbed your temples.

“None of that, bonnie. Anyone would have done the same. Not me, though; I would have kicked his balls.” Soap said, shrugging, making you chuckle.

“Not for punching him. For ruining the night.”

“Sweetheart, everything is fine. I talked to Shepherd; he’ll chew Graves ear off. For now, they’ll enjoy cleaning the showers with a toothbrush, and they’re banned from the mess hall and the gym, so you won’t see them.” You listened to Price, and you looked back at Ghost, who was giving you an ‘I told you so’ glance.

“Arthur said that you'd get a free drink next time.” Gaz said, also trying to lighten your mood.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, trying to avoid their gazes. You felt vulnerable, accepting help; it felt both terrible and surprisingly heart-warming.

The way back was actually nice, with Price telling a story from when he was a private and they had a few drinks while camping. One of them got so drunk that they made him believe there were lions in that zone, and he was scared shitless until he sober up enough to realise, they were in the German countryside.

The stories were a bit silly, but the way they were telling them was both endearing and entertaining. There was a fuzzy feeling in your stomach, and your cheeks hurt a bit because you were not accustomed to laughing and smiling this much.

next chapter: coming soon!

Thank you to the lovely people following this! <3: @no-lessthan3 , @blush-haze , @eustassh , @valkyrieunknown

if you like it leave me some kudos or suggestions on ao3! <3

#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost cod #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #john price x reader #john price #soap mw2 #soap x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #konig cod #konig x reader

[kittydesade]

I'm very sorry. Six months ago you commented on a Gordon Ramsey accessibility post that your job to help make websites accessible. How do I get that job? I would love that so much. I'm sure you've answered this before but I can't find it.

I, too, am sure I've answered this before, but I can't remember where and I'm not about to brave the Tumblr search feature to go looking, so you and @the0dd0ne get a twofer.

Hi, I'm not a bot, and I was wondering if I could ask you a weird career question? I saw your addition on that "Accessibility Nightmares" post where you mentioned it's your actual job to email websites about their lack of accessibility and what they need to do to make it accessible, and can I ask how you got into that? I got injured on the job and need to make a huge career change, and that type of work has always been really interesting to me, but I don't even know where to start to get into it! Also feel free to ignore this lol I know it's out of left field.

(This is actually the third question I've got on this, so no, not that out of left field.)

So the first thing to understand is that it's actually pretty hard to get into digital accessibility because there just aren't that many companies doing it. As far as I know from company meetings there aren't that many schools teaching it as a part of their core web development curriculum. It's just not that common to think about it as part of web development. Which is vastly irritating.

I started mucking around with the web when there was first a web to muck around on, but when the pandemic hit and my Mom suggested (in a hilarious twist of circumstances) that I go to one of those Learn to Code boot camps to get a certificate that said I actually knew my shit so I could get a job in web development. A number of these boot camps also have job placement programs and pipeline agreements with certain companies. and in a nutshell that's how I got into it. The company sent my boot camp a letter saying "we need N warm bodies" and they sent the company a list of names, I got interviewed, I got hired as a contractor, and after a couple years of good work for them I got invited to interview for a permanent position, which I got.

These days due to the state of the everything, there are probably 10-50 programmers for every open development position, depending on language and job type and company. It's a rough field out there and I got very, very lucky in my timing. But if you want to try it, the boot camp to job pipeline is probably your best bet. Ask the boot camp recruiters if they have connections to accessibility firms. If they don't, you can always try asking if they have connections to web development/site packaging firms and then check if the firms have an accessibility department. Tell the recruiter up front what you're looking to work in, and keep in mind that the recruiter's job is to convince you to give the boot camp your money. (Mine was $12k USD.)

For resources to study in the meantime, there's the A11y Project which has discussions, videos, articles, posts, etc about digital accessibility, a lot of good information. You can also look at the resources for the CPACC exam, I don't recommend taking it unless you have a few hundred USD to burn but you can definitely study up on the Body of Knowledge, which is a free PDF to download. And there is, in fact, an accessibility job board, although I don't have any experience with applying for any of these jobs cold.

The languages I use most in my job are HTML and jQuery, and I passively use (meaning I read and interpret but don't actually program in) JavaScript and CSS. This is mainly because we work with client sites and there's only so much of the client code we can touch; if there's a problem in the client code we can't touch we have to write it up and tell them to fix it. If you end up in house for some large brand you may end up working in more web development languages, but a lot of accessibility can be handled by basic HTML attributes called ARIA attributes (and roles) and there's the documentation on that. Another tool to have is your soft skills: communication, specificity of language, writing up good descriptions of what code does what so you can explain exactly what needs to be fixed where and why. You might also want to look at documentation on what makes good alt text, where it's needed, what kind of labels are standard, etc. I think you can find that in the A11y Project pages, but honestly I just learned it on the job working with senior developers.

It's a hard time to get into software development at all, let alone a niche field like web accessibility. But Europe is about to have a digital accessibility law come into effect in July of next year (that encompasses more than just the web, that's just my area of expertise) and the US is making slow but steady strides in requiring digital accessibility as well, so there are jobs out there and there might be companies hiring to capitalize on the need. There will definitely always be companies putting off conforming to regulations until the last possible minute, and then needing services and specialists. So study up, practice, and good luck!

#a11y #digital accessibility #accessibility

[direful]

i'm so fucking tired

#job hunting juggling various interviews & dreading committing to anything bc i'm not passionate about any of these positions #and yet i really really really need money so if a part time gig hires me i will Have to quit if i hear from a full time afterwards #& i WILL feel guilty abt it even though i have no respect for any of the part time jobs i applied to bc theyre all seasonal retail #AND. to make matters worse & me more stressed. #due to Life Things i got shunted onto a new insurance so i have to change everything over to the new system & figure all that out #& i can't keep seeing my amazing doc & i'm sad bc i wanted to get a referral from her for a top surgeon after i got the job thing sorted ou #so now i have to set up a new doc & transfer my records & hope the new one will fill my scrips bc she cant see me irl till february #& i was supposed to start meds for my newly diagnosed adhd last week but that's stuck somewhere in insurance limbo & idk when i'll get it #and if i get a job with benefits i have to do all this insurance shit AGAIN and i'm so stressed about the possibility of that #idk. manifest a good easy job with good benefits that i can tolerate if not enjoy for me or whatever. #hurgle hurgle

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

#okay so i work at a summer camp #and i applied to be an area director #i did my interview and everything. and i think i did well #like im really proud of that interview #and i had the same position last year that im applying for this year #today im going to find out if i got that position #today. probably while im at work. im gonna get a call. and ill learn what position i got #this is the first year im actually worried im not gonna get this position #in the past. not to brag. but ive been the obvious/only choice for the job #(the 'only' choice because i was the only one to apply sometimes) #but this year there's solid competition. the other person that applied for this job is so qualified. probs more qualified than me #and would do such a good job. if it were up to me i would hire them instead of me tbh #but its my last year at camp and i really want to finish it out in this position #so im worried. but i wouldnt be sad if the other person got the job. they deserve it #i just want a good job for my last year and i really want this job #but i sincerely have no idea if ill get it which is a weird feeling #i hsve no clue what ill get which is anxiety-inducing #oh and the competition for the job is a close friend of mine. i asked them to let me know when they hear back today about the job #im tired and scared and want to go to bed but instead i have to go to work

[manygreetingsfriend]

interviewing for jobs and absolutely fucking killing it left and right EXCEPT for the ones i actually really want 🤪

#it didn’t go badly per se #but most interviews i walk away from knowing i did well/super well #and i just. didn’t feel SUPER good about it #so much as ‘it was ok! just ok i think’ #which does not usually like. get you the job lmao #it’s funny public speaking is one of the few things i know scares many people but i have zero (0) fear of #It’s Just Talking And I Already Do That So Much? #anyway every other part of the job searching process gives me crippling anxiety #but the interviewing? once i’m there i know i’m great #so that’s why it feels extra bad when i think it just went meh :/ #shut up syd #or was it #shut up sydney #anyway. #it was this job and one other that i really really really REALLY want #this one is a paralegal position for county gov back where a lot of my greatest friends live ☺️ #the other one is for the public defender’s office for the habeas unit #and when i say. that position has me FROTHING at the mouth #☺️🤪 i’m so normal about this i’m so normal you should absolutely hire me

[colleendoran]

Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

 Go me!  

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because  right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt. 

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back. 

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news. 

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work. 

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing. 

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful  eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work. 

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way. 

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry. 

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was  hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings,  enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year. 

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks. 

#good omens graphic novel #good omens #terry pratchett #neil gaiman #dunmanifestin

[screeching-bunny]

may i request some yan!butler/maid hcs? ur fics/hcs r like my lifeline ALSO love love the name Ligma (srry for the poor grammar, english is my first language/hj)

Yandere! Butler Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: LIGMA BALLZ. Anyways thanks for liking my name it’s so fucking awesome isn’t it?

🌟 Yandere! Butler who’s a year older than you and has been serving you ever since your teenage years. He’s dedicated and willing to spend the rest of his life serving you as long as it means being by your side forever. He first becomes enamored by you when you happen to come by the shop he was working at the time. He was enchanted by you and after finding out that you were a noble, he began grooming himself in order to be the perfect servant for you. When the position of being an attendant opened up in your manor, he quickly signed up for it. Yandere! Butler made sure to perform his duties as perfectly and diligently as possible while in that position. It was all to ensure that he would be promoted to be personal butler.

🌟 Yandere! Butler was not able to communicate with you when he was first hired to your manor due to being too low of a rank. He could only stare at you longingly from afar and wish that he could be closer to you. Yandere! Butler during this time period would discreetly follow you around wherever you went. Although he wasn’t allowed to talk to you, he still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life, like some secret protector. While doing this he’s definitely stolen a few of your possessions and stored them for his own personal use.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is so enthralled when he finally gets promoted to being your butler. Finally!!! After all these years he can finally talk and touch his beloved person! He’s so excited that he can’t stop shaking with joy when he hears the news. Every waking moment of his life from this point in time will belong to you and only you. He is willing to do anything you ask of him. No matter how small or difficult the task is, he will make sure to complete it as if his life depended on it. As long as it gets you to look and notice him then it is all worth it.

🌟 Yandere! Butler is only loyal towards you. He is not willing to take orders from anyone but you, even if it’s from your own family members. How dare they try to take away his time and thoughts of you away from him? Have they no shame?! Yandere! Butler would definitely be willing to fight anyone who dares to insult you. He doesn’t care if they are young or elderly, his hands are rated E for everyone. His love language is words of affection, so get ready to hear a barrage of compliments every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not around, he’s still singing praises about you much to the displeasure of literally everyone else.

Yandere! Butler: “Did you see them today! I swear they get more dashing every time I see them. I wonder if they’ll let me touch their–”

Random Maid: (crying) “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!!! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!!!”

🌟 Yandere! Butler is in charge of your everyday routine. He’s the one planning all of your meals and makes them personally. He will get upset if anyone but him makes you food because he makes sure to plan it perfectly in order to fit your nutritional needs. He makes sure to take care of you as if you were porcelain glass. His movements with you are light and delicate almost as if he were scared that you would break if he were ever too rough with you. He loves to hear you talk about your day and ramble on about meaningless things. It’s somewhat therapeutic to him and it’s like listening to an asmr podcast in his eyes. He takes in everything that you say and a majority of times gives good advice when you need it. If you ever fall in love, never tell him. He will either gut that person alive or give you the worst possible love advice you have ever heard.

“This guy I met at the bakery was super attractive. How do you think I should approach him?”

Yandere! Butler: (screaming on the inside) “You should tell him that he’s gross. I heard nowadays guys find it attractive when people play hard to get.”

🌟 Yandere! Butler legitimately thinks that you are the most perfect person in the universe and that no one deserves you, including himself. He doesn’t care that you may not ever love him, just allow him to stay by your side all of eternity and he’ll be happy. You could tear him apart or take everything he owns and he’d still be loyal toward you. When he signed that contract, he did not only just promise to be your butler but also made a heartfelt vow that everything he does will be for your greater good. He loves the look of a smile on your face and would do anything to keep it there. Murder is not beneath him, if anyone dares to make you cry then he won’t hold back. Whether it be poison, decapitation, drowning, and etc. He’s willing to do it for you, all in the name of love.

🌟 Yandere! Butler takes care of any task that you deem stressful and overwhelmed by. If he sees any type of distraught look on your face he is taking over. Has that business deal been causing you to lose sleep? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’ll make sure to handle everything. Are you getting a migraine while doing some paperwork? Well then, wait right there as he brews you some tea and he’ll get right in on working on it. If he ever sees you sneeze and sniffle then he is going straight mama bear mode. He’ll force you to stay in bed even if you aren't really sick and he won’t listen to any of your protests. No job is a headache to him when it involves you in the picture. So why don’t you just sit back and relax so that he can just take care of you.

#yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere butler

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Peeping Tom

Smut and Story Building (Blackmail, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Rough Sex, First Time, Choking, Light BDSM, objectification)

Chapter 6

3,585 Words

(You encounter a peeping Tom as you have fun with one of your assistants. She tries to use her newfound information against you, but instead, you end up using her. By the end, you found yourself a new toy to play with.)

You return to your office with IU after a business meeting outside the company. The two of you talk about what just occurred during the last few days and how busy it’s going to get moving forward. 

“How does it feel receiving your first private jet, sir?”

“I’m excited; I remember riding on my father’s jet when I was younger and always wanted one of my own. Now I just need to get it customized, and I’ll be able to use it.”

“Before that, we need to hire a flight attendant.”

“That’s true.”

“What about asking your father for one of his?”

“No, I'd rather get someone that has nothing to do with my father. I don’t want them to tell him anything about my business.”

“I’ll try to put a post online to hire an assistant.”

“Sounds good.”

“Any requirements?”

“Someone not too old, eye candy. You know my tastes.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Also, any news on Big Hit and JYP?”

“I’ve heard that they are suffering a bit money-wise, so I think they are going to accept your offer.”

“Let’s see what they say. I don’t want to buy them outright, but I do want to hold a good chunk of shares, especially Big Hit. Bang Si-Hyuk seems like a pretty cool guy. He gave me a tour of his small building and even introduced me to his debuting group a while back. I really want to help the guy.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy with anything you give him, sir.”

“Let’s see how it goes.”

IU then hands you some documents and says, “This is some information I found out about JYP Entertainment. If you look at the third page, you can see that JYP was going to debut a new girl group under the name “6MIX,” but it fell through.”

“Oh, it seems like they had a hard time debuting due to one of their members leaving.”

“Yes, they added another member, Sana. It seemed like they were going to debut, but another of their leader also left the company, so they ended up scrapping the whole thing.”

“Poor girls, so much hard work and training to debut only to have it scrapped.”

“Yes, one in particular has been in their company for a long time. I heard she’s a very good singer.”

“Oh really? If JYP accepts the help, maybe I can ask him to release them from their contracts and send them my way.”

“I’ll keep you posted if there is any news, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Would that be all, sir?”

“Yes.”

“I have a meeting with one of the girls, so I’ll head to my office.”

“Actually, I’m going to grab a bite at the cafeteria, so I’ll walk with you.” 

The two of you walk towards the hallway, slap IU's ass, and walk the opposite from each other. Little did you know that you were seen by someone, the person IU was going to have a meeting with.

———— 

You get a message from IU that she has received some inflation about the deal with Big Hit and JYP as you are coming from the gym. It’s been a few days since you got any information, so you’re excited to see what’s going on. Without changing, you walk into her office, sit on the couch, and listen to some good news. 

You might not have noticed that Jennie has been curious about the relationship you and IU have since she’s a higher-up than you. She doesn’t know about your real position in the company and only thinks of you as one of the staff members. She was shocked when she saw you slapped IU on her ass and decided to follow you after that. 

Today, she had another meeting with IU and planned on having a light snack at the cafeteria before meeting up with her. Since she finished early, she decided to head up to the administration floor and relax on the outdoor patio before the meeting. She exits the elevator and makes it to the top floor. Jennie walks down the hallway and notices how quiet it is. She wandered around and found Irene’s and the CEO's office before hearing a faint noise coming from the hall. She quietly makes her way to the noises and gets to IU’s office from where the noise is coming from. 

Jennie tries to listen and places her ear by the door. She hears moaning coming from the other side. She tries to make up what the people instead are saying and can only decipher the male voices yelling that he’s going to cum. 

After some silence, she notices that the voices are getting nearer and runs towards the opposite side of the hallway to where the patio is. She peeks her head out and sees you coming out the door and IU fixing her skirt. 

“What the fuck, were they fucking in her office?”

“Omg, he’s getting it on with a higher-up in the company. Maybe I can use this.” 

———— 

Later that night, you get a message from Jennie from your staff phone. You read the message, and it is asking you for help moving some items around the house. You’re not in the mood to message her that you can do it tomorrow, but she is persistent. 

Somewhat annoyed, you put on a shirt and head down the elevator to the floor where their apartment is. You ring the doorbell, and Jennie opens the door within a few seconds. She wears a loose crop top and small shorts that show off her petite body. 

“You said you needed to move some stuff, right?”

“Yeah, it’s in the living room.”

You walk to the living room and see the items she was referring to. You spend about ten minutes moving the things, and Jennie is watching you up close the whole time.

“Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Alright, I’m going. I’m tired.”

“Okay, but I’ll call you if I need anything.”

“Please, don’t. The stuff wasn’t that heavy. Maybe try moving it between the five of you before calling me.”

You can tell that Jennie got upset by this based on her facial expression. “I don’t know why you’re complaining; it's part of your job.”

“It’s not. I was just doing this as a favor since you all just moved into the apartment, but that was a few months ago. You girls can figure stuff out,” as you grab your phone and head for the door. 

Upset, Jennie yells, “If you’re going to be a douchebag about it all like the CEO, you’re messing around with his assistant.” 

You turn around and see a grin on her face, blackmailing you. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know that the two of you were fucking in her office the other day.”

“Lies.” 

“I saw smack her ass a while back, and this time, you were leaving her office, and she was skirted and had a smile on her face.”

“If that’s true, how would you know?”

“I heard the two of you doing it.”

“No one is going to believe you.”

“Hmph, I wouldn’t be so sure. I have the CEO’s number.”

“You’re bluffing. You don’t have his number.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, holding her phone out.

“Alright, do it.”

“Okay, I will” and is about to press the call button but then says, “actually, he might be busy with important stuff. I don’t want to bother him.” 

You know she doesn’t have your actual work number, so you tease her, “I don’t think he’s busy. Why don’t we go visit him and tell him the situation? I think he would be more than happy to hear about it.” 

You can see her expression change, and she says, “No, I think we can just leave it like that.”

You grab her waist, “Let’s clear things up. I don’t want rumors that I’m messing with the CEO’s assistant.” You pull her hand, exit her apartment, walk towards the elevator, and press the button for the top floor.

Jennie looks nervous but tries to hide her expression. “He’s going to be upset that we’re bothering him.”

“I don’t think so, plus you’re blackmailing me.”

When you arrive at the top floor, the elevator rings, and you both exit and walk towards the hallway. You ring the doorbell, but there is no answer. 

With a faint smile of relief, Jennie says, “See, he’s not here, so let me waist go.”

“Hmm… let me try something.” You press the numbers on the keypad and hear a ring, unlocking the door.

“How did you do that?”

You pull Jennie and lock the door. “Seems like no one is home. CEO-nim! Jennie and I are looking for you!”

“Stop, he’s going to be made that we’re inside his home. Let’s go.” 

“No, I don’t want to; let’s have a bit of fun.” You walk towards the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab a beer. “He has some good taste, nice.”

“Leave it; he’s going to get mad!”

“No, he won’t.”

“Yes, he is. I heard that he’s mean.”

“Really? They said that?”

“Irene said that he makes them work to the bone.”

“No, I don’t. Wait until I see her tomorrow.”

Jennie’s reaction changes, and she says, “What did you say?”

“Nothing, forget about it.”

“You said something.” She stops, looks around, and walks to the living room. She sees pictures of you and freezes. 

Frozen for also a minute, she turns around and says, “Are you CEO-nim?”

You want to play it off, but know that the gig is over. Instead, you smile and say, “Dang, you caught me. Surprise!”

Many things go through her mind, like how she ordered you around the apartment, teased you, and even tried to blackmail you. 

“So what’s this about having my phone number and blackmailing me about fucking IU.”

Jennie gets on her knees, rubs her hands together, and begs, “I’m sorry. I was just joking around. I didn't mean it.”

“It wasn’t funny. Why did you do it?”

She bites her lip and tries to come up with a reason, saying, “I don’t know. I just wanted to tease you a bit and got jealous.”

“Jealous? What for?”

“You’re my type, and when I saw you and IU, I wanted to blackmail you so you can do whatever I say.”

“You know, that could have really gone bad and gotten someone hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“If you’re sorry, how will you take responsibility?”

“Ehh?”

“You said I’m your type, and you’re pretty cute yourself. How about we have some fun?”

Jennie can’t believe what your words. She knows she said that you’re her type, but that was as a staff/trainer. Now that she learned you’re the one in charge of the company, she doesn’t want to do anything that might endanger her chance at debuting but, at the same time, finds it kind of hot. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“What do you think?” giving her a smirk.

Jennie knows what you’re thinking; it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it herself. You come close to her and grab her small behind, causing her to yelp.

She’s being this close to her. You know that she’s small and petite, “too, like a doll.”

“What?”

Instead of replying, you pick her up, carry her to the guestroom, and toss her onto the bed. 

“Wait… what are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were. I’m telling you what I’m going to do to you.”

Jennie is stunned by your words. The image of you has been turned 360 from ordering you around to the other way around. Deep down, she can’t help but feel small and submissive by someone so huge and powerful enough to change her life.

“Okay, I understand.”

“Since you do, then strip. I want to see what I’m going to be working with.”

Jennie gets off the bed and stands in front of you. She slowly begins to undress herself, taking off her crop top and her small shots.

Now in underwear, she shyly takes off her bra, revealing her small, cute breasts. She tries to cover them, “Don’t forget the bottom.”

You smile as she hesitates to pull down her panties and whines, “Do I really have to pull them down?”

“Do you want me to do them for you? Just letting you know that I won’t be gentle.”

“I…I’ll do it then,” as she slowly pulls them down until it drops on the floor and quickly cover her cunt. 

“Take your hands off.”

“But…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

 Jennie removes her hands, revealing her semi-bare cunt. 

“Fuck, you have a pretty-looking pussy and a nice pair of tits. Lay down on the bed and spread that pussy for me.”

Jennie feels embarrassed but does what you told her. She lays on the bed and puts her legs up. She tries to spread her legs, but the idea of spreading them open and showing her pussy to someone for the first time is nerve-wracking. 

“Spread them more!”

She widens her legs until you see her whole cunt in view. With both her index and middle fingers, she slowly spreads her pussy lips, giving you a view of her unused cunt. “How’s this?”

“Hot. You’re making me hard.”

“Really? I’m making you hard?”

“Yeah. Want to see?”

Jennie has never seen a cock before in real life, only on the internet when she would masturbate while in the dorms. Seeing one in real life is making her both nervous and excited, “yeah. I want to see it.”

You undo the bottom and drop your buttons, leaving only your boxers and a large bulge in sight. 

Jennie can feel her heart beating faster as you pull down your boxers, which makes your cock springs out. “Wow, it’s so big. Can I touch it?”

“Of course,” you say with a grin.

Jennie, with her index finger, touches the tip of your cock and throbs, “Haha, it’s likes me.”

“How about grabbing it with your two hands?”

“Okay, but I don’t think I’ll be able to wrap my hands around it.” With her small hands, she tries to wrap her hand, almost touching her fingertips.

Turned on, you ask, “Can I take a picture?”

Jennie looks up at you and smiles, “Sure, you’re the boss, right? I have no say.”

“Glad to see you know your place.”

You grab your phone and take a shoot of Jennie handling your cock. “Try putting it in your mouth.”

“Like this?” as she uses the tip of her tongue to lick the head of your cock. “Yes, just like that.”

You record her slowly licking your length, your shaft, pulling the head in her mouth, and even her trying to take a bit of your cock in her mouth as she plays with her cunt.

“Fuck… I knew you were a slut” you say as she has your cock in her mouth. “Hmmm… I’ll be your slut, Daddy,” giving you a devilish smile. You grab her chin in between your hands and say, “We’re going to get along very well.” 

She stands and lays on the bed once more and willingly spreads her legs for you, spreading her pussy, and says, “Make sure you get a picture of this.” 

“You know how to turn on a guy, huh.”

“I just want to please you, Daddy. Plus, I want everyone to know that you’re going to be my first.” 

You can’t wait any longer; you need to fuck her now. You set the phone down, walked back, and spread her legs. She grabs your cock and presses it against her belly, and asks, “Is all of that going inside of me?”

“It’s going to go right in here and reach all the way up here,” as you trace your finger and her wet cunt all the way up to her belly button. 

“Fuck me already, Daddy. Make me a real woman,” begs Jennie.

You grab your cock and rub your shaft against her wet lower lips, spreading them and covering them in her sticky nectar. “I’m going to put it in; just relax.” She balls up her waist against her chest, “Okay.” 

Jennie nervously watches as you align your massive cock against her small entrance, waiting for you to be her first and only cock she’s ever going to taste. 

You press the tip on your cock and slowly insert yourself until you reach her thin barrier, which separates her from womanhood. You look directly into her eyes, signaling that you’re going to go all the way into it. She nods back and tries to prepare herself for what’s to come. 

You grab her small waist and, without mercy, put your weight onto her petite body and slam yourself into her fresh womb. “Fuck!!! I’m cumming; you’re too big; you’re making me cum!”

Jennie’s body spasms, and she tilts her head back as she feels her orgasm overwhelming her. 

“Haha, you just came from me putting it in? Let’s see how many times you cum.”

You don’t let her rest and put her into a mating press. She groans from not being able to ride off her orgasm, “Daddy, wait. You’re going to make me cum again. Let me rest.”

“A girl like you doesn’t deserve to rest; you’re my sex toy. I get to use you however I want,” slamming yourself inside her once again. 

Jennie cries as she feels her insides being rearranged by your cock, “Ahh, you’re messing me up inside! I won’t be able to with anyone beside you! Fuck…you’re stretching my small pussy out!”

Watching her becoming a mess is getting you more turned on. Even if it’s her first time, she’s a natural. You place your hand on her neck and firmly tighten your grip. Jennie panics when she feels your hand choking her, puts her hands around your arms, and looks at you in terror. “Shh… baby girl, calm down; I’m not going to hurt you, just something the both of us to enjoy. Trust me.”

Directly looking at you, she lets go of her hands and instead focuses on you, thrusting inside of her. “You feel so tight, Jennie; I feel like cumming already,” as you tighten the grip of your hand around her neck. 

You see Jennie trying to speak, so you loosen your grip, “Ahhh… cum… cum inside me, Daddy. I… I want to feel your cum in my tummy.”

You tighten your grip on her neck again as you fuck her roughly, only hearing the sound of both your flesh against each other. Little by little, you feel your peak approaching, a cold sensation in your back. 

“Fuck… I’m going to dump all my cum in your tight little pussy!” 

You feel all your cum shoot deep inside Jennie’s womb with your thick cum. Her eyes roll back from how tight you’re choking her as you pump a large load. Her body starts to go limp from the lack of air, so you let go of her neck and see the imprint of your hand around it. 

Immediately, Jennie gasps for air and comes back to her senses. “You’re such a good girl, Jennie. I think you’re going to be my favorite toy from now on.” 

She gives you a weak smile, grabs your hand, and places it back around her neck, “Keep fucking me, Daddy. I’m your dirty like toy.”

The two of you keep fucking all night long, every time you pump your cum in and on her body. At the end, you take a series of photos and videos of your work, Jennie’s body covered in cum and her cunt oozing out a mixture of both your juices.

—————

You wake up the next day and see Jennie under your arms. You try to get up, but she’s holding on to you. Rubbing her eyes, she turned around and said, “Good morning, Daddy.”

“Good morning, Jennie. How are you feeling?”

“Sore. I can still feel some of your cummies in my tummy. I feel my pussy gaped. I don’t think I'll be able to get married anymore, haha.”

“Good. You’re mine, anyways.”

“Jealous?”

“No. I just got like sharing my toys.” You grab her by the neck with a firm grip and say, “Don’t forget that, okay? You’re mine.”

“Yes, Daddy,” as she feels your strong hand choking her. 

You let her go and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. Jennie looks at her phone and sees text messages from her group mates asking if she visited her mom since she didn’t sleep at the apartment. 

Jennie replies to them and immediately gets an idea that makes her smile excitedly, “Daddy.”

“Yes.”

“Since I’m your sex toy, how about making the rest of us your toys?”

“You mean your groupmates?”

“Yeah, how bout it? Sounds like fun, right?”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea; I’ll think about it.”

#kpop smut #male reader #jennie #jennie smut #blackpink smut #kim jennie #TM smut #kpop male reader #kpop reader #kpop idol smut #kpop x reader #idol x male reader #girl idol smut #reader x idol #idol x reader #idol smut #blackpink x reader #defloration idol smut #defloration smut #g idol first time smut #first time idol smut

[pursuedbyamemoryy]

₊˚⊹ your sweet lips on my lips 🧸

about : first kiss and early mornings w mike <33. title is a hozier lyric from like real people do!!

warnings : a little longer than usual!! 1.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader ( once lol )

author’s note : I WANT TO KISS HIM SO BAD AAAAAUGHHHH. i’m so obsessed w him my brain is him and him only

your breaths were slow and steady as you slept in an uncomfortable position on mike’s couch. the tv was on low volume in the background, playing reruns of some old sitcom that your parents probably watched as kids. you were tucked under a small throw blanket that was always draped over the back of the couch, and a couple of your limbs were dangling over the edge of the cushions.

you were looking for work and mike had hired you to babysit abby. although with the hours you were at his house, it was more of just making sure abby was asleep and then more often than not, falling asleep yourself. the pay wasn’t great, but you didn’t mind. you really liked abby, and got along with her well. and well… her brother had caught your eye. he was a bit of a loser, sure, but you found him endearing. you admired how hard he worked in order to support his younger sister, it was clear she meant a lot to him. plus he was always kind to you.

while getting to know abby and becoming a more prominent person in her life, you also passingly got to know mike. abby had plenty of stories to tell, and you would often have short conversations with him before or after his shift. she had even let it slip once that mike was interested in you, and may or may not have a crush on you.

“my brother talks about you a lot, you know.” abby said oh so casually as you were helping her get ready for bed one night.

“is that so?” you quirked a brow, suddenly very intrigued at what secrets she might spill. you had harbored feelings towards the man for a while, probably as long as you’d been babysitting abby for. you always thought he would never reciprocate your feelings, and therefore decided to keep quiet about your crush.

“yeah, he says you’re pretty and you make him happy. and he’s glad you get along with me. he likes that” she said, looking up at you as you tucked her blankets around her.

you felt your cheeks grow warm, and a smile broke out on your face. “that’s good to know. he makes me happy as well, both of you do.”

“he also said he wishes he had time to get to know you more. i think he likes you. do you like him too?” abby inquired as she snuggled into the covers.

you thought carefully for a moment before responding. “i do, yeah. and i would definitely like to spend time with him if i’m given the chance. but that’s enough for tonight, it’s already late. sleep well, abby. i’ll be in the other room if you need me.” you press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before standing up and leaving her bedroom for the night.

that very brief conversation with abby stayed on your mind for the following days. when mike came home early the next morning you were more flustered than ever when you spoke to him. since then you had been trying to find a way to make your feelings a little more known, hoping one of you would have the courage to finally confess.

keys jingled and the front doorknob rattled as mike let himself into the house. it was quiet, as it was just past 6am. the only sounds were the faint conversations of the show on the television, and the sound of his own footsteps padding across the floor. he set down his keys and kicked his shoes off before making his way into the living room where he saw you fast asleep. he quietly picked the remote off of the coffee table and turned the tv off.

although he wasn’t quiet enough, and you started to stir. “abby?” you asked tiredly. you blinked up at mike, slowly starting to sit up as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

“nope, it’s me. sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” he replied quietly as he set the remote back on the table. “did everything go alright with abby?”

you sat quietly for a moment, trying to find your thoughts in your sleep hazed brain. “yeah, she ate a good amount of her dinner and then we hung out and watched tv for a while before she went to bed. how was work?” you had pushed away the blanket and now sat upright, looking up at mike. he looked tired, which was to be expected. despite his exhausted features he looked handsome, although this wasn’t a new discovery.

his voice shook you out of your thoughts. “it was boring, but it pays.” he shrugs. “want some coffee?” he leaned his head in the direction of the kitchen.

“coffee sounds good” you smile. he starts to walk toward the kitchen and you follow behind him. damn, his butt looks good in those pants.

“i always feel bad falling asleep, i feel like i should be the one making coffee and breakfast for you.” you noted lightheartedly. you were trying not to gawk at him, which had been proven increasingly difficult after abby told you that he was in fact interested in you.

“i appreciate it, but it’s no big deal, really. i understand it can be a little boring being here all night. i trust you with abby, so if you need to sleep, sleep.” mike replied tiredly. you made a mental note to try and at least make coffee for him before he came home in the future.

once in the kitchen, he started gathering everything he needed to make just enough coffee for the both of you. you leaned against the counter, your back facing the wall. the two of you stood in comfortable, sleepy silence as the coffee brewed.

once the coffee maker had stopped gurgling, signaling the coffee was done, he grabbed two mugs out of the cabinet and poured you each a cup. you added the ingredients to make it just the way you liked it before taking a sip, nearly burning your tongue.

you could feel his eyes on you. not in a creepy way, but in admiration. he took a sip of his own coffee, his eyes lingering on your frame. you let your gaze wander back to him, meeting his own. you gave him a smile as you took another sip of your coffee.

"i uh.. would you like to go out with me one day? just us?" he stammered. he averted his gaze to his coffee, swishing the dark liquid inside to distract himself.

you smiled, giggling to yourself. it seems like abby was right about mike's feelings for you, not that you doubted her. you took a moment to collect yourself before responding. "yeah. yeah, i'd love to."

"he looked back up at you with a goofy smile on his face. "okay, cool. does tomorrow night work?"

you nodded, "yeah, that's perfect." you knew abby wouldn't lie to you about how mike felt, but it still made you giddy when he actually showed that he had feelings for you. you glanced over at the little digital clock on the stove. 7:08am. you took one last sip of your coffee, placing it down on the counter. "i should probably go, i have an appointment that i need to get to. you have work tonight, right?"

he looked disappointed, but nodded. "yeah. i'll see you later then?"

you nodded in response, "yeah, of course." you stepped closer to him, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

his cheeks immediately flushed and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. he’s had other partners and had been in relationships before, but it had been so long since he was as infatuated with someone as he was with you. you were still close to him, and he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. he paused to make sure you were okay with it, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to.

but you didn’t. you leaned in further and pressed your lips to his briefly, somewhat hesitantly. he grabbed your hip, holding you firmly but gently. he kissed you again, this time with more confidence. this kiss was longer, more passionate, and it only increased the feeling of butterflies flying around in your stomach.

“took you guys long enough. are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?” a small voice comes from the other side of the room. you and mike quickly pulled away from the kiss, much more flustered now that you had been caught by mike’s youthful sister. neither of you had heard her approach, and were startled at her sudden presence.

after recovering from the slight embarrassment, you looked at mike questioningly to see if, and how he would answer abby’s question.

“i sure hope so” he smiles, his attention focused back on you. “it’s up to them though.”

“i’d like that” you smiled back at him.

#pursuedbyamemory writes #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's

[redo-rewind-if]

You're dead. Or, at least, you should be. You remember what it felt when the bullet pierced your chest, the blood rushing out too fast, too much to stop. The man in red smirking above you. And yet, here you are. Alive. Safe in bed. One week before the day of your death.

Redo; Rewind is a story about time. Of an ordinary person working an ordinary office job. Sure, you might work for an info broker and, sure, you sometimes (often) commit acts of corporate espionage for said job, but that's just business.

This is something far beyond that ordinary life.

Time travel. It seems you of all people are capable of it. To manipulate time and bend it to your will. It may not be something you asked for, but you need it now more than ever.

Someone wants you dead. And they've already succeeded once. You can't allow it to happen again.

(Please note that Redo; Rewind is currently rated 18+ for depictions of violence/death, references to drug and alcohol use, explicit language, and heavy themes.)

Play as a customizable MC! Choose your MC’s appearance, gender, skills, and more!

Romance, befriend, or antagonize any of the 3 romance options.

Learn how to master your time control ability and use it to your advantage.

Avoid past mistakes and inadvertently come up with new, much worse ones!

Try not to die. Again. And again. And again...

Victor/Victoria Zhang [M/F] - Your boss and owner of VZSystems, the front for their true work as an info broker. Clever, professional, and cold—a classic business major. That's how they appear, anyway. Having worked for them for sometime now, you know that, despite their intimidating appearance, they hide a much softer side underneath. Will you maintain the status quo as employer and employee, or will you cross the boundary set by your positions?

August Astaire [M] - Hitman, assassin, whatever you want to call him, the man's a killer. That much is clear after he put a bullet through your chest. But is that all there is to him? As arrogant and cruel as he seems, you can't help but wonder if there isn't more to him than meets the eye. Maybe if you play your cards right you could even turn an enemy into an ally. But, even if he plays for your team, how much can you really trust him?

Amara Ingram [F] - Your coworker of about two months now. You don't know her well yet, but she seems genuinely kind, with a good sense of humor and a sharp mind. Since being hired, she's quickly earned her place, proving to be an invaluable asset with her skill in engineering and programing. Undoubtedly, someone you're glad is on your side, but could your feelings for her extend beyond the professional?

[Demo] - Available Here! (Last update: March 23rd 2024)

[ROs] - Additional Details Here!

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #twine if #twine wip #cyoa #if wip #intro post #redo; rewind if #redo rewind if

[apute11as]

I hate it when she makes you laugh ~ Leah Williamson x CEO!reader

Summary: You get a new assistant and let’s just say Leah isn’t very good at hiding her jealousy.

Warnings:⚠️ None i’m pretty sure :)

word count: 2032

Author note: Based on THIS request (so sorry it took so long) Also, Leah never did her ACL, Covid never happened.

————

You had inherited an investment firm from your late grandfather 3 years ago when you were just 21. You had turned the the small town business into a multi billion dollar company, earning you a lot of attention from magazines, social media and other people in the investment industry.

Your mother had passed away when you were 15 and it was her father that owned the company so when he died, it transferred directly to you.

Being in the position you were, meant that you met with and attended many events with A-list celebrities, some of them being athletes. That was how you’d first met Leah, the two of you bonded over your shared distaste for the food menu, both agreeing you’d much prefer some toast over the variety of fish on offer. You’d laughed, drank and danced together throughout the night before she invited you back to her apartment, an invite that you gladly accepted.

You woke up the next morning with a fluttery feeling in your chest and a familiar ache between your legs, that told you enough about your night. The two of you had met up constantly after that, although you both had busy schedules. You’d ended up meeting her teammates and parents after a month of dating and safe to say they loved you.

——

Now, 2 years later you were 24 and she was 26 and you’d been officially dating for almost two years now. Life was blissful, Arsenal had just recently come second in the WSL (something you’d decided was a good result, much to your girlfriend’s disagreement) and all was well.

As for your company, the recent incline of growth, your advisors had insisted you get an assistant. You’d assured them that it wasn’t necessary and would just be a waste of time but after some convincing you reluctantly agreed. The interviewing process to find one was tough. You’d gone through several applicants before finding the right

one (you were particular in your choices of company). After a gruelling process that took more several hours, you finally decided on an assistant. Ava was 21, fresh out of Uni and had little experience. Despite this, you saw some of your younger self in her, admired her ambition and also she could hold a somewhat interesting conversation. Many of the applicants lacked personality and motivation, they were robotic and boring.

With that being said, you hired her. She fit in well into your life, as you were very precise in your task doing and a control freak at heart, something she seemed to understand all to well, considering she’d prepared your weekly schedule perfectly on her first day. You came home that day a little earlier than normal due to Ava’s organisational habits, surprising your girlfriend with the rarity of a home cooked meal on a weekday. The two of you discussed your new assistant over the warm lasagne you’d prepared for dinner. Although you saw Leah’s reaction as one of support and warmth towards your new employee, in reality she could feel the pangs of jealousy in her upper stomach as she listened to you ramble about how great Ava was and how much easier she’d made your week.

——

It was December, usually a quiet period of business as many people chose to save for Christmas and there weren’t many properties being sold. However, this year it was unusually busy, meaning you were staying out later and later in the office.

Leah didn’t mind this of course, she was more than understanding, knowing the pressure and stress your job brought. She waited up for you every night with a warm meal (takeaway or microwave as she was a horrendous cook). So when you came home at quarter to midnight after a long day, she was waiting for you.

The sight you saw upon entering your shared penthouse was one of Leah asleep on the sofa. Her blonde bangs stuck out in all directions as she was out cold, an episode of greys anatomy playing softly in the background.

“Oh my girl” you spoke softly, caressing her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings.

“Hi baby” she husked in a sleepy voice. “Have you eaten? There’s leftover pasta in the fridge I somehow managed not to burn it” she smiled to herself

“Thank you my love but me and Ava ordered food in a couple of hours ago” you replied returning her smile, hand drifting onto her shoulder.

“Oh right okay” she grumbled, shifting her body weight so your hand dropped down.

“I’m going to get changed into something comfy okay? Then we can cuddle” you left, oblivious to your girlfriend’s growing jealousy.

“Mmm” she hummed, eyes fixed on the television screen.

——

When you returned, you expected her to be asleep on the sofa but, as you’d went into the bathroom to freshen up, she’d crawled into your shared bed and was sat up on her phone.

You put down your toothbrush and shimmied your way into bed next to her, attempting to cuddle up to her but you were surprised when she shoved you away.

“You don’t smell like you” she complained. “Your perfume is vanilla, you smell like flowers it’s like a 16 year old” she scoffed

“Oh that’s odd, probably Ava’s perfume, she asked me to try and see what I thought. You don’t like it baby?” you questioned frowning at her body position, as she’d now turned away from you.

“No I don’t like it” she snapped, turning out the light and going to sleep

You were unsure what caused this sudden outburst but you knew Leah and knew not to push at it when she was in a mood so you let yourself drift slowly into sleep, making a mental note to bring it up tomorrow.

Her alarm went off bright and early at 7am as she had morning training. You decided to get up with her, despite not having to be in the office until 11am for a meeting. You went through the usual steps of your morning which involved showering (Leah opted against as it was easier to wait until after training), breakfast, dressing and prepping yourself for the day.

Leah was behaving seemingly normal this morning, whatever her issue was yesterday had appeared to have subsided. She hugged you from behind, adorned in her training gear, as you prepared breakfast tortillas for the two of you, wearing a black pantsuit yourself.

“Morning beautiful” she husked into you neck

“Morning my love, do you want ham or just cheese?” You questioned her preference as she was indecisive.

“what no peppers?”

“Do you like peppers Leah?”

“No” she mumbled into your back

“Then no peppers” you titled your head to crack a smile at the blonde

“Weird you’re not trying to sneak vegetables in me today” she laughed

Just as you were about to respond, you were interrupted by your phone blaring from its place on the counter.

“You get it babe, I’ll watch the food” she assured

You silently agreed, shifting to the counter to grab your phone, not bothering to look at the caller id before picking up and not bothering to realise you had speaker on.

“Morning Miss Y/L/N, I’m so sorry to bother you on your morning off” sounded Ava’s voice on the other side of the phone

“Sorry one second Ava I put you on speaker by mistake” you laughed shuffling into the bedroom and shutting the door, completely missing Leah’s expression shift to one of anger and her knuckles turn white from how hard she was gripping the frying pan.

Leah could hear the two of you conversing loudly in the other room. Although you’d turned Ava off speaker, she could still hear your responses. The conversation sounded awfully friendly for one between boss and employee, especially considering you’d been complaining to her this morning about how stressful today was supposed to be as you’d had a meeting with an important investor.

You snapped her out of her thoughts as you giggled like a school girl, laughter Leah interpreted as flirtatious. She was furious now, she trusted you whole heartedly but she didn’t for one second trust Ava. Also, although she’d never admit it, her insecurities in herself and your feelings toward her, played a big part in her jealousy.

——

You wandered out of the room a few minutes later, smiling at your phone as you’d realised that the meeting you’d been trying to get for weeks with a new client, had been arranged.

“You two were laughing an awful lot in there, what was so funny?” questioned Leah in a harsh tone.

“Oh haha nothing Ava just messed up something small with names and was calling to correct it” you laughed

“Hmm usually correcting something small doesn’t take a 10 minute phone call” Leah bit back.

“Noo but she did also tell me that the meeting with UOC inc. went through, we have some of their top board members coming in next week!” You beamed, proud of the accomplishments of your company.

“That’s amazing baby I’m so proud of you!” Leah smiled, pushing down her jealousy to be happy for you.

——

It was on Friday when her jealousy of your assistant finally came to your attention. You and Leah had somewhat of a Friday tradition between yourselves, where she’d meet you at your office at 7pm with food (usually a salad or sushi as she was on a strict diet plan). This happened every week without fail, no matter what the other had going on, even if that meant pushing it forwards or back a few hours, it still happened.

She’d stopped off at dominoes today as an extra treat to show how proud she was of you, after you texted her to say that UOC inc. were open to a deal that would see the company progress even further. She parked her car in your private parking, greeting Roman (a member of your security) on her way in. Excitement filled her body, she couldn’t wait to kiss you, to tell you how thrilled she was and how much she loved you. However the sight she was met when she opened your office door caught her off guard.

You were sat in your desk chair, Ava sat in the corner on your arm chair as the two of you laughed at a TikTok on her phone, a sure sign that you were definitely not just working late.

“Leah hey! Oh my god I didn’t even realise the time” you chuckled, checking the expensive watch she’d bough you last Christmas.

“Sure you didn’t, what’s she still doing here?” She snapped, gesturing harshly at Ava who had paled under the defender’s cold glare.

“She was just showing me something Leah, don’t be rude!” you cautioned, taking a tone of your own.

“Seems like she’s been showing you an awful lot lately doesn’t it and now she’s here, now, on a Friday?” She explained.

It finally hit you, her hands were balled into fists, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, Leah was jealous of Ava. You could’ve laughed at the irony but that would only provoke her more.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve eaten into your time y/n! Especially considering you’d planned to share it with your girlfriend. My boyfriend will be here in just a minute, thank you for the chat, I’ll see you Monday!” She blurted, shuffling awkwardly past Leah and practically bolting down the corridor.

“Boyfriend?” Leah huffed out.

“Yes Lee, boyfriend. I can’t believe you were jealous of my straight employee, who’s basically a teenager” you laughed openly at her.

“Ugh you’re so annoying” she sulked

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous baby” you cooed, pinching her cheek

“Oi get off” she slapped your hand away, rolling her eyes

“Is that for me” you beamed, gesturing to the bag of food in her hands.

“Not anymore” she sassed

“Oh yeah right” you scoffed, making a beeline for the bag, wrestling her to the floor.

“Hey you idiot” she giggled, a smile replacing her previous frown as you sat on top of her, making grabby hands at the food.

———

thank you for reading! <3 My requests and Dms are both open (even though it could take a little time for me to get around to) :)

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #england women #lionesses #lionesses x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader

[iznsfw]

Manic Robotic Dream Girl

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 4 - Choi Yena

IZ*ONE's Choi Yena x Male Reader Smut

8,311 words

Neon lights dance like flames around you. There’s no need to touch them when you’re already burning. Burning with something that’s not a fever but a kind of pain that never goes away. 

Sweat pricks the sides of your face and you’re aware of the blots of perspiration running down your jawline. Nights at the Rogue are often hot, but then they surprise you with a sudden burst of windiness, so you never bother to take your coat off. Whatever and wherever, you’ll always be here yet you’ve not once been able to predict the temperature.

That’s what happened when WAKE12 took over. 

Apparently, they decide if people are under the weather by controlling it by them-fucking-selves. Kwon feeling shitty? Looks like rain then. Maybe she’s feeling happy? Alright, let the clouds find balance. Angry? Take a fucking hailstorm. What a privilege, one bigger than the lives of the rich men in the North. But everyone forgets about that fact after she sends out minimal alms—canned goods, a Bible, something. Then it’s back to President Kwon is the best! President Kwon can never fail us! President—

“Vodka.”

“Same as yesterday?” asks Yuri, smiling a little bit. 

“Same as yesterday.” For a hologram, Yuri can be quite the social butterfly. 

Online wallets are all the rage nowadays. The AI voice in your head offers you said option to pay, and you can hear your balance privately spoken. Somehow your brow prevents from creasing as you hear it. You lack funds but somehow have a few extra bucks to drink. 

Choose that. You want to save your Wizes for other things. Lock eyes with Yuri and your balance goes down. You’ve paid. 

Online and digital wallets modified with embedded signals and readers were in use before you were even born. Of course, there were already such payment options in the twenty-first century, but how WAKE12 changed everything, not just ordering options with telepathic payment, can easily be read in a sixth grade history textbook. 

In October of the year 2918, Kwon Eunbi rose in the ranks as a scientist and soldier for Kang Hyewon, former president, and ended up working her way into dictatorship. The textbooks and classrooms teach that she proposed a law to the court and got herself a position for her wit and intelligence. But early first accounts challenge that, saying that she caught the eye of Kang and had a sexual relationship with her. WAKE12 branded this as propaganda that sullies the name of not only the dictator but the one of the late president, who died mysteriously before Kwon rose to power.

Massive backstory for cashless payment, but you know there’s more to it than the government would like to let on. What happened to Kang? What made Kwon so evil the moment she sat in her presidential throne?

“Thank you, sir.” Holograms all have different voices; Yuri’s sounds like she’s singing. At least the bartender slash boss hired her instead of those with monotone, emotionless ones. It’s cheaper to have hologram workers than humans anyway. Less money, less emotional labor, less of feeling like a normal person.

A beggar curled up below the counter holds his hand out. Not an uncommon sight in the Auster, but it’s a pity to see. The world has advanced with its telepathic wallets and 3D holograms yet there will always be individuals who haven’t caught up with time. While the North Rogue leads worldly lifetimes, the Auster is a home for the rejects. The poorest of the poor. The somewhere-in-the-middles. It can never be truly a perfect world if advancement doesn’t include everyone.

Give him a Wize. Back then, that would have been worth a hundred or so dollars, a currency long gone. Not that you’d know of it; WAKE12 claimed leadership way before you were born so the cheap value of the coin studded with the bust of Kwon Eunbi is all you’re accustomed to. 

Take your drink and thank Yuri. 

The cobblestone is rough beneath your feet. You take your seat at your usual table. Float your fingers around your shotglass. Pour the contents down your chapped mouth almost all in one go. Anything to feel something. Anything to feel anything. 

You’re not an alcoholic by any means, though that’s certainly up for debate. But there’s a need for the liquid that rages more than the need for oxygen (the fucking shortage of it) or food (the fucking expense of it). How else could you be less numb? You’re welcome to every feeling at this stage, just not this empty neutrality that slumbers your senses.

Pain? Your throat seizes up when you drink and brings tears to your eyes, so there's that. 

Happiness? Hm, none. You’re barely smiling. You’ve no family, little friends, and no partner for the last few years. There’s nothing to be happy about.

Anger? The displays of people fined harshly for their crimes on the big as life advertising screens stir some defiance in you. WAKE12 doesn’t take kindly to hacktivists and young coders dabbling in creating their own AIs. You have your own anti-government opinions, but what’s a human mind against an artificial one? Plus, and probably a less serious reason (tell that to the thousands who flock to the hospitals because of asthma), the air is almost always polluted here in the Rogue. It’s dirtied by car smoke and factory remains. You’d think that robots taking over the labs would improve it. Perhaps they weren’t programmed that way. 

Loneliness?

You look around. See the glitching phantoms of new world technology make the drinks breezily. Watch the light-studded train filled with commuters from the Auster. Kwon Eunbi managed to build an underside track for additional trains to run and still the commuters—young students, old grandparents, not young but not old workers whose jobs belong to WAKE12—wear the same tired look you saw yesterday. All you could hear are buzzes and uncanny valley voices from holograms.

The second chair paired with your table is empty. You’re suddenly lucid to the fact that it’ll always be like this. These nights of drinking and walking in the Auster Rogue will be endless, and just the same, you’ll be endlessly alone.

Sometimes mortality could be so depressing.

So depressing that it makes it all so meaningless.

A man stumbles over to the outside bar, breaking your thoughtless reverie. His clothes are as black as the night you spend but you can see blood on the fabric. The skyscrapers provide enough light for you to see his red face from anxious internal and worrying external blood. The pleading look grips his expression like a malfunctioning robot’s limb. 

He’s looking back as if afraid of what might be there. The rain-soaked road is tread on roughly by his shaking knees as he crawls his way to the bar. “Please, help me!”

“Warning,” comes the voice in your head, and you know the other visitors hear it, too, “a criminal of the state is in your proximity. Proceed with caution.”

WAKE12 always keeps an eye on those who threaten them. They have goons everywhere. The kindly grandfather down the street could be a veteran waiting for the chance of a medal. They have ears everywhere as well. Undercover cops stay in both crowded and clear spaces to identify possible threats. When it all comes down to it, you’re not safe in your own head at all. The implants can detect when you dream up something terrible. That’s how millions lose their reputation. Their jobs. Their families.

Their lives.

He staggers to the counter, crashing glass that shards his palms, and lets out this wail you’d hear from an abused pup. “Please,” he croaks. “Don’t listen to them. I just need somewhere to hide. I did nothing wrong, nothing!”

The implanted voice in your brain says otherwise. Everyone was given one when the Cyber Age came. That’s what makes a tiny difference in seeing who’s human and who’s not: the tiny, diamond scar below their hairline from the operation. Close inspection can’t always be done, however. Nowadays, too many of these robots and holograms pass the Turing test. You can never truly trust someone.

“Offenses include: playing the role of an accomplice in theft of government data, distribution of terrorist propaganda—”

“Get the fuck out!” says the bartender, having burst out from the back. As a longtime visitor, you haven’t seen him this angry, but you know it stems from fear. No one wants to associate with a criminal. No one wants the association to lead to arrest and the arrest lead to god knows what. Hundreds of people go missing after they’re taken under custody. What Kwon does to them, you don’t know. “Leave or I’ll call the cops!”

Like you said, they lurk everywhere. You’re surprised they haven’t caught up to him.

The bloodied man shakes his head, like please, please, someone believe me. “No, I’m not a criminal! Listen to me, please, I don’t have enough time! They just wanna—cut down” 

Rapid footsteps. Sigh and put your glass down. There they are.

The man reaches for him, but the bartender shoves the whole table into his face. He falls back on the ground and cries out for help that never comes. Men and women wearing tight black uniforms and vests pull him up. Their lit helmets that opposingly disallow a view of their faces make them look emotionless. Like robots.

Huh.

While resting your head against the metal chair, you listen to the struggling shuffles of the police and criminal, and see the glitching robots walking down the road. No real emotion, no real living.

He scratches and screams and sobs, but that doesn’t matter to them. They pull him along the rocky cement and recite his nonexistent rights to him. There’s the right to remain silent (he’s screaming), the right to an attorney (nobody in the Auster can afford a good lawyer much less an honest one), and the right to live freely if found innocent of the crime (someone getting convicted happens more often than being released).

Besides, it can’t be called living when it’s in a place so completely devoid of any humanity.

“In more ways than one,” you say. Fuck it, you’ll drink to that.

-

Like always, you take more than you should. You believe by now you’ve built some kind of immunity. That’s what they all think, you remind yourself, before an inevitable death that buries them in the ground one bricked shot at a time. You swear you’re not dizzy at all or feeling the acid build to your throat, so the sight gathering just a little away from you is real. 

Stare at your glass. Space out if not for what you see: behind it, a shapely form of a woman in purple. The blue and violet lights make it difficult for you to distinguish it from her clothes so she actually looks naked. That shocks you more than the arrest. You’re sure she’s got a little modesty in her because why else is she making her way to a table?

Your table?

It’s like she teleported when she’s suddenly seated before you, filling the chair that’s been empty for the last more or so years. You don’t even get the chance to look up at the right time, but the moment you do, you think keeping your eyes on your glass would’ve been better for the sake of your heart.

YENA.

Her name appears in your mind and she hasn’t even introduced herself. But it’s right there, emblazoned in lights in all capitalized four letters: YENA. This girl is Yena. And this girl—this fucking guilty pleasure of a girl—is gorgeous.

The ends of her hair are tinged with blonde, and it’s hard not to give attention to that with how her locks are gathered into twin tails. She smoothes them before looking at you quite seriously, like she’s about to propose a challenge you’d lose.

Blue shining eyes. There’s something odd about the way they twinkle below her bangs—almost like something not human. 

Yena dances her fingers around her jawline, elbow resting on the table, and tilts her pretty face. Lets her fingers play with her lips that are made for things the Auster’s known for providing (she can’t be from here though; those crocheted coordinates look costly). That’s how you notice that fine feature. Naturally thick and casually jutted out in a distinctive pout, your eyes are glued to them. Can’t take your prolonged stare away if someone helped you. 

“Are you waiting for me to start talking?” Yena asks. She’s not angry, just amused—her voice is smooth and clear, with a tiny pitch that makes her all the more cute. 

You shake your head. “Was just trying to figure something out.” 

“And that is?”

“A lot of things,” you state. Things you’d keep a secret forever, lest you spill them out to a girl all for the payment of being beautiful. “But I’m not sure pretty girls like you would want to know.”

You try to keep your curious peering at her normal, but it’s difficult when she just attracts attention. She’s a glowing lightbulb in a flutter of moths. Yena doesn’t flicker weakly; she shines, and it’s honestly why everyone else is “subtly” looking at her, this gorgeous stranger who came in and somehow chose the alcoholic who came from places more rock bottom than the Auster.

She laughs. It’s sobering—you think you’ll get drunk on her rather than the cheap alcohol. “Is that what you think of me? Too beautiful to think too much?” 

Look her up and down. Yeah, you want to say, that’s about it. It’s not out of offense but rather the instinct in you that wants to tell her you don’t want to put her in a worried state. She’s too… ah, she doesn’t know what you’d do for a girl like her—someone too unreal to be human but too genuine to be the “living” dolls lonely men purchase. Someone who can keep a conversation going without fearing a low blow. Someone who’s out of your league in the Rogue’s mixed pool but chooses you anyway.

“I’m just saying you might not want to hear a stranger boring you with his hard problems.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving it off with a flick of a pointed wrist. “You know my name. I know yours. We’re not strangers anymore.”

How did you—how did she—

Her eyes twinkle again. They’re… violet? You could have bet they were blue. But then you see the suspiciously smooth and clear skin, with the perfect lines of her eyelids, which curve as if manufactured in. She’s definitely not human. 

“Besides,” adds Yena sweetly, “you’re really underestimating how good I can take certain hard things.”

Swallow. You opened the door, now you’re locked in. 

Yena catches the bob of your Adam’s apple and smirks. Traces her fingers over yours. She can’t be human for sure yet you feel the softness of her hand, the only thing giving you doubt being how chilled her touch is. It's humid here, so where did that come from? Goosebumps pop up in masses across your skin—note how nothing shows up on hers.

Maybe she’s just a confident woman.

“Come on, I dare you.” 

“Only if you go first.” 

“Yes, sir,” she says. A cutesy saluted hand positions itself before her temple. Her hands are tiny, could be dainty, while her cheeks lift to support an adorable smile. 

Your knees tremble. You don’t know where that came from either. Yena just knows what to say to get to a guy. Almost like she was made for it. There’s that question again, resurfacing in your altered brain: is she human or not?

You lean back. Cross your arms. Here you go, on your way to find out. “What’s your story?” 

Yena shrugs, her shoulders bare and smooth. And you’re thinking of how you’d like to see the rest of them, the rest of her body naked by pulling down the crocheted strap of the purple coordinates. How you’d like to touch those puffed up cheeks and not care if they’re real or not when you pull her close to kiss her. How those lips—

“Don’t have one.”

“Sorry?”

She laughs. Even the way she giggles is attractive.  “No, seriously,” she replies, licking her lips. “There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m the most normal girl there is.”

There is nothing normal about her. Everything she says is too prepared. The largeness of her eyes gives everything away. Her hair is combed too finely that you’re not unconvinced that it isn't human hair at all, though you can see them connect at the roots. It’s like someone drew a cute animated girl on a notepad one lonely night, sent the idea to a rich bastard, and brought her to life.

So no, you’re not buying it.

“So you’re saying you’re just a blank canvas.”

“If you put it like that, I guess.” Yena rolls her eyes. You’re a bit obsessed. “Guys want that, right? A blank piece of a girl they could shoot more than a shot at? Maybe paint her white?”

You’re thankful you didn’t continue drinking. Otherwise, your surprise would be visible and audible with the lodge of your throat as you wineboard yourself.

The side of her mouth raises. A soft dimple exceeding cuteness—it’s deeper, brighter, shinier. You imagine her as a college student, charming boys into submission just with a wink and a smile that can melt hearts and bring guilt to lust-addled minds. 

That’s what she’s doing: Yena is melting you because of how adorable she is, but then you take a look at her body, note the fine curves it boasts, and feel the need to go to a confessional pastor. You’re not supposed to repeats in your mind, but you’re you—if you aren’t supposed to do it, then of course you’ll do it anyway.

“Woah,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Woah.”

“Look.” She rests her forearm on the table and talks so casually one would think she weren’t just talking about getting cumshots. “I‘m not taking that back, so do with that what you will.”

Under the table, behind the scenes, her leg is curled around one of yours. Her ankle glides along your skin teasingly. Not a speck of hair on all of those flawless legs, but you’re shivering anyway from the contact. Hence, make a show of closing your coat around yourself. You can’t fool her when it’s not even chilly.

Recover, piecing together the brokenness of your confidence she tore apart.

“My story is, uh, weird.”

“Tell me.”

“This might be too personal but—” You lift your shoulders awkwardly. “I used to date a girl who looks exactly like you.”

Kim Chaewon—short auburn hair, soft cheeks, and a tiny figure. She’s a memory you didn’t think of returning to today, but then Yena came here, and now you’re back to your youth.

“She was a cop. Cutest officer I’ve ever seen, but a real bitch, for the lack of a better word. Then she left me.”

“You broke her heart, didn’t you?” 

Sputter. “No!” you immediately deny, shaking your head. “I—I didn’t hurt her, she was—”

A filthy lie. You became nonchalant, undeserving of a sweet woman who’d do anything for you, even give up her well-paying job. Again and again, Chaewon expressed her concerns: why were you talking to Minju? Where have you been? Why are you so mean? You disregarded them all the same. She deserved the ignorance; she was too fucking controlling, too fucking jealous.

Yena knows you’re lying. It’s like you’re a wound she can peel back to see all the ugliness, all the damage underneath. Her smile tells you everything.

“Oh, come on. I don’t care. Except for this.” Yena intertwines her fingers. Rests her chin on top of the formed platform. “Was she a good fuck?”

Your laugh is forced, trying to make a good deal out of this situation. A girl is flirting with you right after you saw someone disappear. Now you’re wondering if she’s a robot. Now, through some way, she knows you’re lying about your ex. Coincidences meet yet you refuse to connect them—parallel lines they shall stay, forever. 

“Yena, what exactly is up with you?” you ask. “You just met me. And come on now, why me?”

It’s begun to be hotter in this space. Loosen your coat. Perspiration isn’t because of the atmosphere, so you find out (and what a surprise). It’s because of the woman across you, a midnight sun. If the painful sun was actually a symbol of good in the Rogue, Yena would play its role perfectly. She’d scorch through you and you’ll enjoy every second. Yeah, you’d get all sorts of tans and burns and cancers if you bask in her without protection, but my god, are you willing to take the risk.

“I just don’t like seeing pretty boys have problems,” she replies easily. “If they want, (and I know they do), I’ll take them all away. Soon, all you'll think of is me. Like I’m the sun peeking in your room and you just can’t get enough sleep because of it.”

You tense up. Millions of questions, a void empty of answers. Once again, how was she so spot on? You’re not breathing quite well, and your clothes are tighter tonight. “Yena, look, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Don’t be, not because you aren't, but because she said so.

She pouts. “You’re not gonna buy me a drink?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Nope. Remember what I said? I’m a blank canvas. So do whatever you want with me. Buy me a drink. Or not. Tell me to fuck off. Or not. Force me on my knees.”

Yena kneels.

There’s no mantle on the table to cover up what she’s about to do. You gasp, then try to mask it as a poor cough, but you’re distracted by how she pulls your pants down effortlessly. The button sealing your coat is busted open and gone.

So is your dignity.

Yena’s tongue sticks out at the side of her mouth as she looks up at you with excitement and mischief in her eyes. 

“Or let me do the job. I’m a big girl after all.”

She seals her teeth around your zipper and tugs down. It’s embarrassing how hard you are for her. But Yena doesn’t care. Adoration is clear on her face as she stares at your shaft, the worshipful energy in her eyes so overwhelming that she has to do something about it.

“Yena—” What a way to go out: screaming a stranger’s name.

You knew those lips were up to no good the moment you saw them. She’s provided evidence, too. Her soft lips embrace your boner and suckle fervently while dragging themselves upwards. It’s a caress that tenses you up rather than comforts you. It works you up, tying you down with the little weight Yena has. You could kick her away right now and tell her to go away. File a case against her. 

You don’t.

The joined duo of careful teeth and wild tongue gets you whimpering. Shivering. Begging. How is she so good at this?

Her mouth is perfectly wet. It’s not copiously soaked to have you cringing but the perfect balance of wet and ready, coating your rod again and again. She gives you too much and just right. It would be a cruel violation if you were asked to choose one and only one.

“Baby, what the fuck—” you stammer. 

Her throat’s an expert in taking you because one push of her lips to your base welcomes you in its tight hole. Your knees shake; Yena places her hands on it, not to stop their trembles but for leverage during the dip of her head. 

Close your eyes, look up, and stare at skies that provide no reprieving stars. Think of how she’s infinitely bett—

“Better than any pussy, huh?” Yena asks. The third time is no coincidence, so you’ve heard. “And it’s just my throat.”

At this stage, you don’t care if she’s a robot or not, because either way, that mouth is a fucking treasure.

You lift your hips and start slowly working yourself in Yena’s face. Her lips pucker and pout to allow you inside with pleasurable friction. Those eyes—there aren’t any planets in the sky because of the pollution but you think you can see their sparkle in them. 

The amazing part is that Yena doesn’t choke. She endlessly takes you in, receiving every inch like a blessed gift, but you don’t hear her wheeze. No sounds of complaints escape her. You have a feeling it’s not because of your cock sliding in and out of it. She only gags on occasion, and those already sound fake. It’s like she’s doing it just so you can get worked up hearing her moans.

While others might be impressed, you’re dumbfounded. She tightens and loosens and pushes and pulls just for your pleasure. 

“Yena, I– you’re doing so good,” you compliment her in gasped breaths.

Her cheeks hollow. The suction strengthens and it now feels like your soul’s being swallowed down her neck. She knows how to tease you with light pandering from her teeth, generous licking, and strengthened swallowing. Her mouth is warm but you are more so. She’s making you feel hot in all these layers, an additional one played by her perfect lips.

Perfect hair, too, you note.

Hungry impulses take over your body and now you’re pumping your core into the girl’s face with the help of her pigtails. Yena’s hair is thick and silky, and it’s another enjoyable factor: feeling how it slips between your fingers and how each pull directs her lips to press firmly to your crotch.

She doesn’t gag with that either. She must have had a lot of experience; she did say she can take hard things fine. That is, if she were human. If not, whoever built her had dirty ideas: the lack of gag reflex surely brings in the five star ratings.

Bright star-like eyes, cute ruinable face, mouth that can take the largest.

Yep, perfect.

“Good—fucking—girl.”

Your cock weeps white. Yena feels the first drop and immediately pulls away. She pumps your shaft with a strong, urgent fist. As she hinted, you blast all over her face. Your orgasm grips you and shakes you like never before, and of course, the little brat enjoys it. She’s nearly laughing.

“There,” says Yena after she drains you. Her duck-like lips are sticky with cum. “Canvas painted.”

What a pretty painting you’ve made. Here, shown to the public, is the manic pixie dream girl, semen on her chin to symbolize how each word she utters has you climaxing; hair disheveled to show your subtle but messy rule over her, because you own her although you weren’t there when her mechanical limbs were assembled and her face drawn; and a smile on her face to show that despite all this: she likes it.

You laugh, short blunt breaths wisping in the air. “There really is something wrong with you, Yena,” you say.

She’s a girl who’s extremely pretty, good at blowjobs, and likes public sex and oral. She can also read minds. Oh, and she might not be real. 

“You could say that again.” She wipes her mouth. “Though I do think I could use a little fixing from you.”

-

You take her home. Your mother would have been disappointed in you if she knew you violated the first law you were ever taught: don’t talk to strangers. Most of all, don’t ever let them in. But Yena is no stranger—like she said, she knows your name and for some reason, you know her own. You’re not strangers. And your mother isn’t around to command you not to kneel for a pretty girl.

This home of yours isn’t fancy, but if people from 2024 saw it, they’d be mesmerized. You’re not rich enough to afford the penthouses the North offers; this one is alright for you. The stories of the building aren’t aligned with each other, separating a few yards with floating floors that defy gravity. That’s right; WAKE12 somehow found a way to disobey the rules of physics. The ends are lit up with bright lights that blind you from miles away. Wide windows encircle the areas along with al frescos and convenient malls. Back then, this would have been classified as the house of the wealthy—you can’t say you agree with the sentiment when you’re not at all rich.

“Hi,” says Yena brightly at the front desk. She’s so smiley, always grinning like she’s just told a really clever joke. “Where’s the elevator?”

“I, uh…” 

The manager looks at her oddly. Your ears redden; she still hasn’t cleaned her face up. Evidence of your deed lies there on her nose and chin and cheeks, even in her perfect hair. 

“Well?”

The manager lifts the phone immediately. Before he could dial a number, Yena sighs loudly. 

“Look.” She silences the telephone with a slam of the device down on the keypad. The man’s hand cringes. “I’m about to fuck this guy’s brains out and I promise your little backup bosses can’t do anything about it.”

He stares at her. 

“I’m gonna use his dick until it’s limp as a balloon, then ride him in bed, then bend over on the kitchen table so he could breed me like a common whore.”

You lift an index finger to apologize, but put it back down. Did she just say you can breed her?

His jaw tenses. The teeth behind those unsmiling thin lips grit, not in annoyance but in fear. Yena’s bouncy and sweet, but apparently she’s excluding people who cockblock from her cute attitude.

“So,” finishes Yena, lowering her gaze, “where is the fucking elevator?”

The elevator has no pulley or doors. It sits at the side of the uneven floors and rises with nothing but a sizable pod. You’ve had to watch your weight to be able to enjoy the freedom from staircases. 

Yena steps on it with no worry. As you look at her, you realize how positively tiny she is. That’s why she isn’t doubtful about fitting in the claustrophobic space. Her violet clothes can slip off at any time at her pull of a waist and slim thighs. All the fullness goes to her cheeks, painted with fake tattooed stars and minimal doodles. 

She’s the kind of girl you could just pick up and do whatever to. You’re the kind of guy who really, really likes the idea.

Holding your hand is a thing of the past. Yena clutches your cock over your jeans as the elevator lifts the two of you up. 

The first thing she does the moment you enter your home is not kiss you, or slam you to the door, or whisper dirty nothings in the hollow of your ear. Yena looks around and says, simply, “Doable.”

You chuckle. You’re not offended. It’s a tidy, minimal apartment with glass that spans a viewing pleasure of the artificial forest and the hills. Glass lost its value but skyrocketed in purchases when Jo Yuri, first activist recorded in the history of WAKE12’s domination, was imprisoned. People compared her name to glass (yuri was 유리 and 유리 meant glass) and since then, it has been used everywhere. High demand, low price. Her symbol and namesake is used the way the public wants her to be used: cheap thing convenient only to the eye. They always said she was too pretty to talk too much.

“Here, doable is the best compliment,” you reply. You go to your bedroom to clean the place. If you want to fuck a rich girl, make sure the bedroom is at least up to her standards. “You have personal maids there in the North?”

Yena continues looking around. She’s mildly fascinated by everything, especially in the big window placed on the ceiling that lets stars peer down at you. For some reason, all the ejaculation on her face is gone. You don’t remember her bringing a washcloth.

“I’m not from the North, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. I don’t come from anywhere.”

You come out, having cleared your bed from clothes and the floors of trash. You fed the trash to the connected chute that all apartments have, which leads down to the Southern Auster. The word may be Latin and is already defined as south, but there’s places poorer than the part you live in. You’re lucky to be here. The Southern Auster’s where it’s much more dangerous. The people there scavenge for food and money, and their cries go unheard in the night. It’s the biggest criminal capital of the Rogue.

You come out and Yena’s sitting on the kitchen table with a knife.

Stop in your tracks. 

See the blood running down her arm. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt.”

You still don’t know what to say. The wound on her skin’s dissolved to a scar that looks more like a scratch on metal. Why would she do that? Why would that do that?

“In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.” Yena slides the blade on the strap of her top. It falls apart, right down to her braless chest. A pink, perky nipple is clear in the moonlight shining from above. “When people see me, they usually want to hurt me, so I might as well do it myself, right? They want to slap me, pull my hair, choke me. They say that and figure I’m totally flattered.”

You want to say that you couldn’t blame them. Yena’s got this innocent but naughty aura about her that you want to completely ruin. There’s her hair, all dolled up and her quirky makeup that brings attention that eventually switches down to the body she doesn’t bother hiding. 

But it looks like she’s doing the ruining. Aren’t those the best stories? Boy corrupts girl when it’s the other way around in reality? 

To use the word “reality” when you’re with Yena is laughable. She can read your mind like a Rogue Times newspaper. You get that things you thought were impossible have a chance of happening in these days, but you don’t remember wounds healing that fast. The knife slices right through the fabric, revealing swoon-worthy curves of her waist and hips, making her bleed only not for too long. Who would want a scar-ridden skinny girl anyway?

“Well,” you say after a dutiful swallow, “are you?”

Yena examines the knife. Her crimson blood dripping from its edge is a worthwhile watch while she considers this. 

She finally puts down the knife, much to your relief. “I don’t know. What about you, handsome? Do you want to hurt me or fuck me?”

“I… I’m not like them. I don’t wanna hit you or make you cry or anything. I want to fuck you, that’s completely different.”

First confession of the night that didn’t need saying when it’s clear. You let her blow you in public. You took her home. The intention is staring you in the face: you want to have sex with a girl you just met. 

Yena smiles. “You’d be surprised how blurred the lines are.”

Yena‘s hands fall on your shoulders and make you  fall to the kitchen chair and make your pants fall on the floor. Falling, falling, falling for her—it’s all you’re able to do provided that she’s stunning. She’s tiny with her thin arms and legs but her breasts are surprisingly supple. The cleavage her top subtly shows off hinted to that and you’re still shocked.

She’s a hot desert, and the only source you can drink of is her core. Her pussy is slick, making her thighs glue together only for them to part as she sits on your lap. 

The first grind has you both breathless. The second renders a duet of moans. She’s so wet that it’s excessive enough for her to drip down your cock and completely cover it with her. Yena’s pussy lips splay and clasp your shaft with slippery friction.

She curses. “You’re so hard. Big, t-too.” She aims your cockhead at her clit and sighs at the toe-curling pleasure. “You think you can fit in me?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

Yena smirks. She continues soaking you with her wetness. Her juices pour from your head to your balls. Then, without warning, she sheathes your rod inside her. 

You gasp. It’s so easy to slip yourself in and all too difficult to cope with how tight she is. Her walls, perfectly textured and sloppy, trap you and let you out, giving you false hope of escaping, only to imprison you again. It’s the best punishment you ever had. 

Her throat was already better than the other cunts you’ve spent yourself in, so what does that make her pussy?

The best. Her overflowing waterfall lets her ride you easily. It seems like there’s a million spots inside her you can target for she quivers and cries with each bounce. Her hair flows photogenically while her chest does the same erotic motion. 

“So fucking good, fuck,” Yena groans. Her round butt lands on your lap and you think you’d like it to stay there forever. Curl your hands around her cheeks. Draw a healthy moan from the throat you used.

Yena’s pussy curves and opens in every best way. She makes it so easy to mold her into the shape of your cock, to rearrange her insides. Was she made for dick? She’s so wet that you’d think she’s a nymphomaniac who won’t let you go, the same way her vagina won’t let you go as its grip curls around you and threatens to milk you to your wits’ end.

You wouldn’t mind that.

Her riding accelerates to an unbearable point the moment you start to spank her. She’s right about hurting and having sex being almost the same—you want to leave red handprints all over her jiggling ass. You want to pull her hair until she screams. You want to fuck this perfect cunt of hers right up to when she’s creaming all over you, flooding your sexes with her naturla nectar.

And the crazy thing is: she’ll actually let you.

“Fucking brat,” you say, hitting her butt again. She yelps coquettishly. “Are you really this thirsty for cock?”

“God, yes…” Her head throws back. Yena’s eyes shut and although her vision is blocked she sees stars. “Wanted to know how your dick would split me open. Fuck, keep doing that!”

Her core tightens with each blow you expel on her bouncing ass. Her hole’s already so enclosed so when she squeezes more, it’s close to having your cock tortured. You’re suffocating inside her.  You’re waterboarded again and again with her waterfall of wetness. 

You guide Yena’s motions with your hands on her behind. She’s so light that you’re practically using her as a doll, fucking her on your erection and letting yourself enjoy how her tits recoil. Her moans turn on a part of your brain that you don’t know, but it transmits to you these thoughts: fuck her senseless.

You raise her as high as you can, her weight nothing even to your long-untrained muscles, then slam her down. She sinks deeper into your lap and takes longer inches. Yena’s screams bounce off the soundproof walls that ensure only you can hear them. Those walls were fucking expensive, so of course you gotta let them have purpose. Slap Yena’s thighs down on yours and let her pussy envelop you right up to the point of bruises appearing on your skin.

How does she not sweat? Your hands wander all over her tight body and still you don’t find a drop of sweat. Her pigtails are still secured. You guess she was just made to be eternally pretty. 

She is pretty, under any circumstance—her smooth skin possesses zero blemishes and her winged eyes remain lamp-bright. She’s pretty, even when she lets out the pitchiest sounds, even when Yena’s lips rise into a devilish smile before sealing on your neck. She nibbles on your skin and rakes up your sensitivity. 

“Holy shit, Yena…”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She licks behind your ear and you nearly lose it. Maybe you already did. “Say my name. Because I’m all yours. This pussy is yours to use and abuse, so do it.”

Rub her tiny pulsing clit. Yena’s cries deafen you. If that’s not enough, she drowns you with her cum. There’s no raft to save you. You’re all alone. You’ll drown here and never see the light of day again.

Electricity runs through her body as the pleasure ramps up. Her fingers weaken on your shoulders. Her gasps are split off by larger, more surprised evolutions. Yena’s close.

“Fuck, no, I can’t!” Yena’s riding is furious and borderline abusive. The noises between your two crotches are louder than before. 

“You can,” you insist. You throb inside her while her pussy becomes smaller despite the many thrusts you perform. “Take it like a good girl, Yena.”

“Fuck me, use me, I’m just your cute little helpless girl, fuck me!”

She couldn’t be more correct. She’s just a useless doll, thin and adorable and tight—so why not use her like one?

You’re surprised your limbs have any power in them, but they impress as you lift Yena up. During your walk to the counter, you don’t stop thrusting in her. She’s wet and ready, just waiting and begging for it to happen. Her pretty face is smudged with tears. There’s sick satisfaction in you from seeing how the confident girl at the bar is now just a fuckhole to use. 

“Oh, oh, ah!” Cute little whines come out from those lips. Her mouth used its power to pick you up, make you cum, make you scared. In this second, all that is gone: she’ll only ever use it to wail in pleasure.

Knock her against the kitchen counter. Her thighs press to the curve. You spread them open and continue spending yourself to death in her. Her sides that slant to make the physique you love are perfect handles to thrust. 

You’re completely soaked, but she’s completely defiled. The dream girl is not just any dream but a wet dream. She’s the fantasy you never had but will constantly think of now. And you don’t care if WAKE12 knows you’re fucking her. They can read all the thoughts you have about Yena as much as they like, and you wouldn’t care.

Instead of giving a fuck, you twist her around, her smooth back in front of you, and fuck her harder while you’re at it. Admire the way your hips slap her ass and give her the spanking she deserves. One spank, that’s for being so tempting. Another for the price of her promiscuity. Three one-after-the-other’s because she’s too wild, too free for a girl with that face.

“God, please, harder!” Yena cries. “Make me your little cocksleeve cumslut!”

She does not take pain to heart, physically and mentally. In spite of your rapid pumps and the slap of your stomach to her bent and ready ass, no bruises or scratches appear on her skin. You say all these degrading words and rather than mope about it, she gets more turned on. She forces you to give all your might in railing her in this apartment where the open windows give you away rather than the sounds. And you’re nodding along, saying:

“Of course.”

Of course you’ll grab her tits and pinch their nipples as hard as you can. Yena’s skin might not be humanly warm but these boobs are real. They’re soft in your palms and plentiful. Is she a masochist? You tweak and slap and squeeze; in response, she’s… smiling?

Of course you’ll slip your touch all over her body. Appreciate every perfect curve, every fine fullness. After fondling her tits, you slide your hands over her smooth pits, then to her arms that struggle to remain stable. She’s sensitive all over; it’s evident in the way she babbles each time you caress her. 

Of course you’ll take her hair and pull as hard as you can. She won’t get mad. Nothing ever gets to the cool girl.

“Oh my god!” Yena shouts. 

Those pigtails are there for a reason. Thrusts become easier to do with her hair curled in between your digits. Her ass meets your crotch easily and you find yourself excavating her cavern, hitting her in all the good places. Yena hums and screeches and sobs. 

“Bad girl.” Her hair plays the role of your reins. They’re convenient in spreading Yena apart with your shaft, tearing at her tightness. “You’re nothing but a filthy cocksucking slut.”

“M-mhm, yes, just for you, just for this perfect dick, ahh! I’m cumming!” 

Yena’s core flexes and contracts. It holds you like it never wants you to go but you let go anyway. You can do nothing besides that especially if it’s her, someone who’s so cute but so seductive, so challenging but submissive. Each part of her—those blowjob lips, her blooming face, her cockiness—makes you wish this could never end.

The first sign of the end of this pornographic one-reeler is your semen raining inside her, setting a storm in her guts. You pant, legs weak, while Yena’s seem to go on forever although she’s smaller than you.

The second sign is the mess she made. Those aforementioned desirable legs are painted by obscenity. She squirted all over your floor and herself. Your cum coats her vulva plus spills down freely.

Yena looking back at you with a tired smile is the last one, along with her asking, through shattered breaths, “Better than your whore ex?”

Because that’s the thing about girls like Yena. They’ll do everything to please you. Perhaps she’s a good dresser, but really, this is your style, not hers. This type of fashion is what you like on women: modestly revealing. Girls like Yena will give you everything, make you discover yourself, and when all this happens, she’ll remain the thoughtless, forgiving girl. She won’t complain about things that will set you off and say coy, clever things, the kind men like to hear.

All just to be better.

She is.

“Yeah.”

Yena chuckles. For a moment, she looks like the sweetest girl in the world. The happiness overtakes her face and makes her smile reach her ears. 

It disappears as fast as it arrived.

“Wrong fucking answer.”

Alarm sounds of every kind—natural disaster, fire, robbery, whistles—blare in your head. You can’t hear anything except the thin screeches of emergency. But for what?

Yena loses her brightness. Everything that made her shine shuts down. She smiles, that same one full of mischief, before she breaks, too. Her eyes turn pitch black, the ones you see in crows, the sign of bad luck. She disassembles part by part before you. The light girl is suddenly so heavy that she forces you down. Suddenly, her torso above yours feels colder than before. 

What the fuck? 

Escape is your first instinct. You push the remains of the girl away. Your feet kick the broken parts as if you’d break, too. You brush past the fringe of her bangs. Below it, no diamond scar rests on her forehead.

Stare down at her. Yena truly is not real. Your manic robotic dream girl is dead. She was never alive. 

“You have been found guilty,” says the implant. You used to hear it when WAKE12 arrested people and now it talks to arrest you. The alarms are loud but you understand every fragment. 

The implant’s emotionless voice now sounds a lot like—

“Chaewon?” 

Bad luck comes just like the consequences of the law, personified by stilettos clicking on your floor, a shadow in the moonlight, and the face of the woman you swear you never wanted to see again.

And yet here she is.

Chaewon looks so much like Yena. Yena looks so much like Chaewon. Their chins, their eyes, their bangs—who is who? Their faces mingle and mix in your vision. You think you’re going crazy.

She puts away a remote control and places her hands on her hips. Her black bodysuit is all you see as she approaches. Her smiling lips don’t utter a word. You hear her voice, all in your head.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you do shall be punished by WAKE12 accordingly. This is the price you pay for your crime.”

There’s a gun in front of you. It’s aimed at your chest, determined to crush what keeps it beating. Raise your hands, but not in surrender. You’ll die before you try to be Chaewon’s toy again.

“What crime? Being your ex-boyfriend?” you spit. This has got to be a joke. “Chaewon, I said, what crime?”

She can’t abuse her authority. She couldn’t have done all that just to get back at you. And for what? Being a bad boyfriend when you were younger and dumber?

You hear her speak. That striking smile looks more terrifying than beautiful. It dissolves into darkness to pronounce your wrongdoing. 

“For the crime of fucking existing,” she snarls.

You hate Chaewon. You swore you never did yet now you do wholeheartedly. You tried to love her and reciprocate her efforts. She’s a busy woman so she should have understood you had other commitments.

This is the last time you ever want to hear from her. 

A bullet you don’t see coming. It soars in the wind and finds its home sweet home in your skull.

She’s the last thing you ever heard.

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #girl group smut #female idol smut #izone smut #soloist smut #choi yena smut #yena smut #izone yena smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #idol x reader #idol x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #pov smut #kofimission #commission #iz days of christmas #iz days of christmas 2023 #iz days of christmas 2023 day 4

[bangficsx]

PLANNERS

pairing : jungkook x reader insert

word count : 7777 [coincidence ;)]

synopsis : wedding planner hooks up with the bride's cousin

warning : slight dry humping, teasing, blowjob, fingering, cum swallowing, squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it's just a fic), a dick pic i don't think there's anything else..

"I already got the number given for how many tables and chairs are to be set up" the man tells you, leaving you in disbelief.

"I think you have a misunderstanding. I'm the event manager. I was supposed to have a meeting with you about it." You try to put forward your argument which gets dismissed again immediately.

"A certain gentleman came two hours before and told me everything in detail" the man answers getting irritated by your insistence about his mistake.

"Now please do not waste my time miss. I've got a lot of other clients." You turn around and roll your eyes, stomping forward murmuring "again".

It wasn't the first time your job got done by your customer. You have never met one like this before in the hundreds of weddings and events you've arranged. Why pay a hefty sum to you if they want to do everything on their own?

You make up your mind and set out on a quest to find the mysterious man who keeps completing the tasks he hired you to perform. And you've already assumed he must be the typical arrogant asshole from your nightmares.

The next morning, you leave for the photographer's studio three hours early. You were supposed to meet them to decide the lighting and type of camera that is to be used. What kind of shots the couple wants.

In your two year long career, you've never had an upset client. You try your best to deliver the exact kind of wedding they must've dreamt of for their whole lives.

The wedding ceremony is one of the most important events of a human's life. The most joyous celebration that unites two individuals and families together.

And you make those dreams come true. It's in your hand to control all that is controllable on that most special day of someone's life.

This wedding is by far the most expensive one you've ever handled. Usually you would manage two or three in a month. But they put a condition asking  you only focus on theirs for the month the wedding's scheduled in.

The groom started his own tech company at just 20 and earned a name for himself. While the bride is the ceo of a pharmaceutical company her dad left to her.

You ask your photographer if they got any emails about your event and when they checked they actually had one. You asked them for the address ensuring them there would be no consequences.

When you search the email address, you find it mentioned on a linked in account. You assume it must be the bride Si-young's cousin as you clearly remember her telling you she doesn't have any siblings of her own.

You find the man has attended a business school abroad and has professional posts about the company. Again you assume, he must work in the company too. Probably hold some influential position and hence, acts like such an asshole.

You also come from a well to do family yet you never understood why rich people spend money on services they don't even use.

You look at the picture of the man carefully. A pretty good looking man for sure. And you smirk when you find him in the car that's driving up the street just like you expected.

You feel stupid that you'd shared the schedule with them to assure everything would be done in time. There was a fair amount of time left yet you were working everyday as it was a big scale event, a grand affair. Two business tycoons coming together along with their souls and hearts.

You walk upto the spot where he parks his car. Resolute to give him an earful about what has been happening for the last week.

You stand with your hands folded waiting for him to ask what you want and to gladly tell him to let you do your job. He walks past you and enters the studio leaving you gasping.

You stomp your feet and follow him. Fuming in anger, you call behind him "excuse me mister what do you think are you doing huh?"

He keeps talking with the photographer showing her samples that you were supposed to show and tells them they want better ones than those.

"Mr Jeon!" You call him again. He finally turns around.

"Can I help you?" He asks as if he's clueless.

"Yes. I think you're aware that Ms Si-young and her fiancé have appointed me as their wedding planner. I'm the one whose supposed to perform the tasks you've been performing. It's my job" You finally release all your pent up frustration.

"It's complicated" he says and turns around to continue his conversation.

"Excuse me sir do you not understand how much inconvenience you've been causing me. I have been wasting my precious time and money to travel miles only to find you've already done the job" you shout unable to believe something like this could ever happen.

"Look it's not my problem. I told Si-young that I would look after every little detail about her wedding. It's not my fault if she paid someone to do it. Just keep the money." He says with an expression that says he wants you to fuck off but you aren't going to give up so easily.

Going away with free money is easy. But you're not gonna do that. It's a large sum of money that you received. And you need to manage this event to enhance your portfolio. Grabbing this opportunity is so far your biggest achievement. If you do this you'd be able to kick all the asses that laughed on your face when you told them your career choice was becoming an event manager.

And your stubbornness resulted into the gentleman bringing you to a café to explain to you why he wants to arrange everything by himself. How much it means to him. What Si-young denies to accept.

"Her dad died when she was nineteen. She was abroad studying when he was on his deathbed. I was by his side through out his sickness. And his dream was to have a perfect wedding for his only daughter. Look she's the only thing he ever had. Her mother died before he could marry her. He meant a lot to me because you see my dad all our fortune drinking and gambling. Uncle took me in and provided me with the best of opportunities and education and in turn it helped me send money to my family. He saved us and now I want to fulfill his last wish and dream. That's why I want to arrange the whole wedding. Ensure everything is absolutely perfect. Si-young likes to flex her money, she thinks just spending lots of money will get her the perfect wedding day. She doesn't understands only someone who deeply cares and loves her would ensure perfection." You feel attacked and he surely knows he's being rude to make you run but you're not going to, not so easily.

You've had enough experience dealing with people who won't trust you. Parents of brides and grooms, brides and grooms themselves, even your own parents.

You quickly pull your tablet put and open your browser which already has a tab open with your website on it.

"Well Sir I'd like to tell you I've been an event manager with an expertise in wedding planning for two years now. I've successfully managed a hundred weddings now and this is my profile. As you can probably see with your own eyes I'm able to put up the best possible events." You tell him proudly because nobody else ever takes pride in you.

"Look I've told you I want to do it and I'm going to do it no matter how much you try to" he says again and you can't bear it anymore.

You lash out "You don't understand how hard I've worked to get here alright. I've worked my ass off the past four years. Two years as an intern where I worked like a dog and then at my own company. I have been able to get here based on sheer hard work and nothing else. I'm not gonna let you snatch it away from me." He watches your nostrils flare, and your skin turn red.

"Alright calm down. Take a deep breath" he says before he sighs.

"Please" You can't believe yourself and takes everything in you to stoop like this but you speak the word out.

It's the way you ask him that he relates to you in some sense. He knows what working hard is like and can tell from your eyes you're speaking the truth.

"Can we do it together then?" He offers.

You roll your eyes at him, contemplate then answer "fine"

"So easy.. you had to make it so hard" he chuckles and you look away trying to hide your smile.

"At least get a black coffee for self respect. You're embarrassing me along with yourself" You point out that you two have been sitting for too long without ordering something.

"Sorry" he mumbles before ordering.

"It's okay" you respond.

"You just wanna... keep... sitting on the same table" he asks fearing another outburst from you.

"People might misinterpret if I suddenly leave and sit somewhere else." You answer. Think it might benefit both of you.

"How so?" He asks. You don't understand if he lacks experience assuming he might have drowned himself in studies first and now work or he's just messing with you and having his own fun in it.

"We looked like we were fighting. They might think we were a couple... and we broke up" you answer clearing all his doubts.

"You're kinda clever you know" he says.

"No doubt" you answer.

Your coffees arrive and you both silently sip from your cups. He keeps glancing at you then at the table. Covers his mouth not known to you, he's covering a foolish grin, a blush because he can't stop looking at you and get reminded of how cute he found you in control of anger. How he adores a smart woman who can take a stand for themselves and don't give up.

"You know complete silence can be misinterpreted in a way too" he leans over the table folding his arms.

"Certainly" you agree. Also you are finding it impossible to resist the urge to talk to him.

A part of you is unable to believe you are having coffee even that you're sitting at the same table with a person who studied from one of the top business schools of the world.

"You want a sandwich or something... lemme compensate you for all the money you spent at least obviously I can't return you the time" he speaks looking around for the waitress. Before you can refuse he has already ordered two. You didn't say anything because you could hear your stomach grumbling in hunger. You hadn't eaten a proper dinner last night too.

"You know I kinda understand her dad and you too" your words grab his attention. He looks at you, fluttering his eyes, without any shame not moving them away.

"Hmm" he finds himself at a lack of words.

"It's pretty important to my dad too... That someday my wedding goes well if it happens. But we aren't really on good terms anymore so I don't really know what's gonna happen when the time comes" you tell him. Mustering the courage to finally open up. You've been in your shell for way too long now. It's been five months since you and your girlfriend broke up.

"What happened" he asks trying to not offend. "If you're comfortable to share" he quickly adds.

Your sandwiches arrive right before you start answering, "He wanted me to be an engineer but I had no interest in that area. So he didn't help me tuition for undergrad or anything at all. Mom is a homemaker so she couldn't help me as such. Then when I started my business even then he didn't give any seed money or anything. So far I've been able to manage on my own so I guess I'll arrange my own wedding by myself too. I've got one life, I'm gonna live it out on my own terms. I don't give a fuck anymore" you bite a huge piece off your sandwich not caring what he thinks.

"I'm proud of you" he mutters.

You are surprised to hear that and make no efforts to hide that, "What... what did you just say?" You ask.

"Oh you heard it. You're strong and self made so..." he scratches his nape nervously.

"Thanks" you tell him.

You take another bite of your sandwich.

"Also my parents don't know that I'm bi" You blurt out, kinda on purpose to see if he's gonna back off because of that but it doesn't budges him. He seems to be absolutely fine with it. And there have been many who have left after you state that fact about yourself.

When you both finish eating you walk outside the café together.

"Sorry for wasting your time like that" you apologise. "You seem like you have a serious job"

"No it's not like that... it's all for Si-young and she means a lot to me, even more than my own siblings." He quickly explains.

"Wine tasting tomorrow 5pm" You remind him although he must already have it pinned on his schedule.

"See ya" he leaves after getting in his car. He wanted to ask you to get in the car and drop you wherever it was you needed to go but he had a meeting in an hour and had to prepare for it.

The next day, you meet again. You feel guilty of the excitement of sorts that you hold in your heart to meet him again.

You thought about him all day long the day before, all night and all morning. He was beautiful and kind. Inspiring and caring. You'd never met a guy like that before.

You skip your usual pants and shirt work outfit and instead wear a dress. With a denim jacket on top and boots to walk in.

The wine seller was not a long distance away from your place. You had a home office setup and were saving for an actual office.

You find that Jungkook has already reached the location and was waiting for you. You feel embarrassed not knowing for how long he's been there.

He walks upto you and greets you and you do the same. You walk inside together.

"We have a booking for a wine tasting" you ask the receptionist who points at an old man sitting in a corner. She asks him to take over.

You and Jungkook sit at a table with glasses placed in front of you. The old man uninterested to work asks you to just tell whichever tastes best after showing you samples from what they offer at weddings. You know that the place has the best wines so you don't object towards the behaviour.

"Should we try this one first?" He asks.

You both try the same wines and wait for a few seconds for the taste to settle in.

"No way" You answer. He chuckles and nods.

"OK, trust me this isn't their best" you tell him quickly not letting him doubt your choice of wine seller.

"You've had the best one before?" He asks.

"Yeah someone gifted me once" you get reminded of your ex who brought it for your anniversary. It brings back all the bitter memories from your breakup. It was the longest, strongest relationship of your life yet it ended in such a bad way. You still haven't completely forgotten her.

"Jungkook" you take his name as if he's a friend of yours.

"Yeah everything alright?" He senses the change in your tone and expressions because he hasn't looked anywhere else.

"Can you... can you please taste these and tell me which one you like best? I'm sure you have a great taste in alcohol." You request him. He looks at you and nods.

He picks up a glass and drinks from it. You're sure he must have a hundred questions rushing through his mind but he's not asking them out of politeness.

"Don't wanna kill you with curiosity it's just because my last ex and to be honest one of the best ones brought the best wine from here for our anniversary so I don't wanna taste it and remember it all again. It was pretty terrible... the break up" you purse your lips.

"I'm not curious about those things" he sips another wine and makes a face furrowing his eyebrows. You don't know what to make of it, it looks like he's gonna get angry at you for bringing you to a place which has not a single good one.

"How are these their bestsellers... like what the fuck is even happening here" you look around to call someone and ask them if they actually arranged you the best samples.

"No wait... fuck.." he takes another sip. "Heaven" a moan escapes his mouth before he presses his lips together.

"You like it? I was worried, thought you were gonna get angry at me" you sigh in relief and he laughs, giggles looking at your face.

"Why would I ever get angry at you?" He shrugs his shoulders.

"I boasted about this particular place so I'm bound to be questioned if it doesn't turns out as per the expectations I have planted in someone else's mind. Part of my job is to have a varied taste because different people like different things and I have to cater to their needs accordingly." You speak and he was mesmerized with you.

"You speak so well... damn. You really are passionate about what you do" hee says.

"Yes I am" you confirm.

"I like people with passion for their jobs" he says. You feel butterflies in your tummy. You know how he's indirectly pointing at you.

"So... should I go sort it out with them?" You ask.

"You know... you could drink some other wine. I don't like getting drunk alone" he says.

"Well if you feel like that" you buy a mid range bottle for yourself and ask for a glass. It's not necessarily a place to sit and drink in, yet you two are the only ones there. And you don't like making people feel lonely so you'd better get a little drunk too. And wine makes you feel kinda cosy, drunk but still like yourself.

You can see that he is tipsy. He buys the wine he liked for himself. Once you're both finished you step outside the store.

"How did you get here?" You ask.

"Took a cab" he answers. "Driving wouldn't have been a smart thing to do if I knew I was gonna drink" he adds.

"Don't you have like drivers" you ask curiously. The alcohol starts to have it's effects with the passage of time.

"Not me" he answers your query.

"Hope you aren't getting late for any plans" he says checking if you haven't forgotten about something.

"Why are you curious now?" You smirk.

"Don't want you to blame me later that I got you drunk"

"I drank out of my own will. Just say you're curious to know if I have a partner. I can sense your intentions very well Jeon" you walk away from him but he giggles and steps closer again. You move away again and he pulls you, gently holding your arm.

"Hey I have no such intentions" he denies.

"I'm not so naive to not notice" you keep walking forward with a straight face.

You are certain of what's going on inside his mind. You were sure of your attraction when you first saw him. You've had enough of crying over your ex and remembering the things she did to you. All you need is someone else to do even better things to you.

"By the way... how old are you?" He asks hesitantly.

"Not a minor for sure" you try to annoy him.

"Real age please ma'am" he rolls his eyes.

"Turning 24 in a couple months" you tell him wondering if he's older than you or if he would be uncomfortable that you're younger than him.

"I'm 26, means I can talk informally with  you" he states without you asking.

You don't know why you keep walking further. Even though you know you should just take a cab and go back home yet it's like you're waiting for something. You want to just get even the glimpse of an opportunity. Even though a part of you knows it's not completely right but that adds to the thrill of it all.

"Are you sure you don't have someone waiting for you?" You ask him indirectly.

You are begging inside your heart to know that he's single.

You can't stop the trail of dirty thoughts that follows as you see his skin shining with the layer of sweat that's covering his face. He flicks his lip ring with his tongue, you see him bite his lip before he looks at you with a hint of lust in his eyes.

"Umm no. I have been single for like two years now. My ex left behind a lot of damage too. Took me a lot of therapy and strength to get through it all. We dated four years, I thought she was the one and only and well..." he pauses. You understand what he means and nod.

"I'm sure your little heart will heal" you pat his chest lightly and he smiles. His hand brushes yours as he shifts to walk closer to you even though you barely had an inch between you two.

The image of him biting his lip replays in your mind. You glance at his lips again which he parts making you avert your gaze before he notices.

He's in a leather jacket, white t-shirt, black skinny jeans. Your eyes travel south and get a quick look at the fabric hugging his toned thighs. You wonder if how many abs he's got under the shirt. Fuck, you can't believe your brain is fantasizing about a man you've only met twice when the sun has just started to set.

"You're curious about so many things right now but you aren't asking isn't it?" You smile looking at him. Try to ease the tension because you can sense it building in him too.

"Oh come what do you think I'm even curious about?" He scoffs.

"We're all curious about things Jungkook" you say. You almost trip over a rock but he holds your hand. He keeps holding it just in case you lose balance again. You both are equally tipsy.

"Well what are you curious about?" He asks after a moment.

"Well you know like what happens after death? What will happen to me if the number of people getting married keeps decreasing? What cock tastes like?" The last one makes him cough and stare you.

"You're so drunk" he says.

"Not so much" you tell him.

"Then repeat what you just said" he says

"Why?" You fold your arms over your chest narrowing your eyes at him.

"Why is that a thing you're the most curious about?" He blurts out.

"You're asking like you have some position open for a blow job giver" you joke.

"Like you'd apply for the job" he adds.

You look around people don't give a fuck they're busy minding their own business. You regret saying what you said but yet you let go.

"Have you been to the wedding venue yet?" You ask changing the topic.

"Just checked it out on the internet" he says.

"Wanna go check it out?" You ask.

"I'm kinda tired what about tomorrow?" He offers.

"We've only walked like 500 metres" you chuckle.

"I'm sure it's more than a thousand" he says.

You reach the bus stand from where you can get a bus to your place. He stands beside you.

"You should get a cab. I'll just get on the bus." You tell him. You sense the disappointment in his eyes, but for some reason he doesn't express his desire.

"Okay. If that's what you want" he takes his phone out from his pocket.

You feel foolish waiting for him to turn around and say something. He keeps tapping his foot on the ground, looking at his phone.

The next day arrives after much anticipation. You get late, losing time in doing makeup.

The blood rushes to your cheeks everytime you think about him. You slept last night dreaming about his face, his lips, his delicate features.

You wait on the road for the cab to arrive. Jungkook texts you that he's on his way.

The banquet's in a hotel where the ceremony will take place.

Last night you both had no other options. You don't think each other's homes would've been a great option and there were no motels in sight either. He didn't even bring his car which could've been a compromise you would've made.

Now being in a hotel means you have the opportunity on hand you just have to catch it.

You give him a tour of the place. You have permission to enter the hotel at any time since they all know you are a wedding planner and you're managing an event there in a month.

As soon as he finds you both in a secluded corner he's quick to make the offer.

"You do know what I'm expecting?"

"What? For me to pay for lunch?" You tease him.

"For your curiosity to die" he answers.

"I don't wanna die so young" you tell him.

"Sure can't before you taste cock" you cringe hearing him phrase your words. You know it's just skin and flesh, it can't have it's own taste. It's not like pussy which you've tasted many times but only your ex's. You were drunk, wanted to be suggestive towards him and hence made that up.

"Well I don't have anyone right now whom I'd like to suck off" you tease him more. Kinda like to watch him get desperate.

"Think again" he says. You almost laugh but like how direct he's acting. He has hope evident in his eyes.

"Thought so hard my head hurts" you answer to play a level further than him.

"You're killing me" he says making you walk backwards and hit your back against the wall. Although he keeps his hand behind you so that you don't get hurt.

"No I'm not" you say.

"I'll buy you pretty things" he says. Keeps his hands beside your head.

"I'm weird I don't like pretty things" you joke, enjoy the way he hisses with frustration.

"Then I'll buy you ugly things. Or whatever you like..."

"Excuse me.. I'm not looking for a sugar daddy" you clarify. He sighs. Gets closer.

"I know you want me and you're fighting it. And I want you so bad... you can't even imagine" you hold to him for support as he stands dangerously close to you, staring into your eyes. You pull him a little closer and with the tip of your tongue lick his lower lip. The metal of his lip ring feels cold as your tongue glides over it.

Before he ends up losing all control, he takes your hand and barges into an open room. You raise your eyebrows finding it very questionable what he just did.

"I already booked it" he smirks before he  sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you above his lap.

You sit on him a bit hesitantly knowing he has a growing erection underneath his pants, causing him to act like this.

"Don't act so innocent" he whispers before pulling you closer with his hands on your hips. His hardness presses to your crotch.

You wrap your legs tighter around him.

He tangles his fingers with your hair. You lean closer to him but he doesn't kisses you. You try to get your lips on his but he keeps moving his face, touching his lips and his nose on your cheeks and neck and behind your ears.

"Don't" you whisper.

"Like you didn't" he puts a peck on your lips then pulls back again before you can fully kiss him. You let out a complaining groan and give up on trying to kiss him. He'll do it on his own because you know he wants it too.

"So desperate aren't you..." he presses his lips near yours. "Yet you were giving me such a hard time"

"You were the one denying your very obvious interest in me... and I was kinda nervous because I've never before hooked up with my clients or anyone related" you tell him. He chuckles.

"That's because you help people plan their weddings silly... it would be really problematic if you hook up with someone who's about to get married" you laugh at his words. The vibrations of your laugh travel to him, as both of your chests remain pressed together.

"And if it's not them it's their parents, that's way worse" you both giggle before he tucks your hair behind your ear and finally kisses you.

You hold his head to not let him go and slowly move your tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates your actions with the same passion you show. He gently grazes his teeth over your lip. You squeeze his nape lightly.

His hands travel down your neck and you look down as he unbuttons your shirt. It's brown to go with your black trousers. Your bra is just a cotton one. You washed your only lace one and it didn't dry in time to wear in the morning.

Jungkook cups your breast as he kisses down your cleavage. You fiddle with his buttons too. You really want to see what's underneath. He's insanely beautiful for a man and you feel jealous of his soft, silky hair. You have to carry out a whole ten step haircare routine through out the week to keep your hair frizz free and prevent dryness.

When he kisses you again, you grind yourself against him a little. He moans into your mouth. It's evident how close to the edge he is.

"You know if you want I can help you with that" you say as you feel wetness seep from your own folds as you stay pressed against his hard cock.

"Oh please... please..." he pulls himself away a little. Palms himself before you move his hand away.

You keep your hand on his chest and make him lie down. You have always liked how bouncy hotel mattresses tend to be. He giggles but quiets down as your hand reaches the button of his jeans.

You grip him from above his clothes and he pushes himself up against your hand. You unbutton his jeans after rubbing him for a few seconds.

Slowly you pull down his boxers too. And adore how pretty and thick he is. Your first man in four years and you're glad to grab a nice one. You feel evil to think of him like this but who cares, you both are just here to fool around, have fun.

You had a boyfriend when you were around nineteen to twenty and since then you only dated women. You did go on a couple dates with guys but none of them worked out.

You pull his jeans down his hips around his thighs. His cock is fully hard, the tip shines with precum. You make him lose his shirt too revealing the tattoo sleeve. You had gotten a glimpse of tattoos sneaking up his sleeve but had no idea that he had a whole hand full of them.

"Pretty tattoos" you remark and he smiles grazing his fingers on his arm.

"Tell me about them after you cum" you say making him chuckle.

"For that you have to start somewhere... I'm dying please" he whines.

You're quick to oblige. Your hands wrap around his dick. You give him a few pumps before licking his length.

You keep moving your hands around the base as you suck the top. He let's out muffled moans as you continue.

Somehow you get lost in the way he moans, knowing it's because of you, that you still can make people feel good. You were skeptical of yourself for a while after your ex labelled sex with you at the end of your relationship as average. You had always had a thrilling sex life with your partners, trying new things, new locations, new positions and techniques yet somehow you grew boring to her.

And here a man lay in front of you, groaning and moaning, definitely not faking it, with the way he was twitching and throbbing inside your mouth.

You keep going without thinking much. You find him responding well and if you keep doing it he'll reach climax and that is what you want for him, to get some release. He's been stressed about his cousin's approaching wedding and you assume his work life must be hectic too.

He grabs your hair in his fist trying his best to not hurt you. His grip loosens as you feel a warm liquid fill your mouth. The taste is a mix of things you can't describe with just one word. Before you swallow the first spurt another gets released out from his tip. Your clit throbs so bad, your heart beats so fast, you feel so wet, you just want to pull your pants down and make yourself cum if nobody's gonna do it for you. You feel an ache in your pussy and an urgent need to relieve yourself from it.

Jungkook lies with his head buried in the pillows. When he looks at you there's a shine to his face, his eyes. He has no care for how he came so much that too in your mouth.

"Either you make me cum right now or I'm making myself" you say pushing your trousers down as you lie beside him. You throw your shirt away too.

"Alright do it then..." he says. "Let's see how hard you can make yourself cum" his words sends another chill down your spine.

"Well then" you sit comfortably on the bed. Then part your legs. He watches carefully. You slowly push your panties to the side. Touch your clit and moan as the touch feels heavenly.

But the way that your pussy is all wet and messy and pretty Jungkook can't resist the temptation.

He sits beside you and slowly trails his hand up your thigh. You continue to rub your clit not caring what he thinks. Why would you do it's not like he means anything to you.

He doesn't removes your finger instead pushes his into your hole. "Fuck" you moan as he tries to find the sweet spot.

You increase your pace of stroking your clit.

With his free hand, he pushes the fabric of your bra down to expose your breasts just enough to get access to your nipples. He circles his thumb around the hardened buds.

As his finger continues to circle on your g-spot, he wraps his mouth around your nipple. His tongue circles around. He sucks trying to take in more of your boob into his mouth. You find it hard to maintain your rhythm of clit rubbing.

Yet as you find yourself too close to the climax, you're motivated to keep going. You just know it's going to be very hard. And with your moans and expressions, he finds his motivation too. He presses the tip of his finger against your walls.

You feel an unbearable pressure build inside you. Desperately trying to get relief. He's amazed how fast your hand starts moving. His eyes don't move away from your cunt neither does his finger pressing on your g-spot.

He takes your tit inside his mouth again. Your moans intensify as it finally snaps. Your thighs shake, you see the stars, think you've died for a second. It travels from your head to toe. You remove your hand but he doesn't.

Through the overstimulation he brings to you another unbearable pressure which turns into a wave of pleasure as you lose all control and squirt, shaking uncontrollably. Jungkook pulls his hand away and watches as you rub yourself again and spray more of the liquid soaking the sheets. You keep rubbing yourself and an orgasm combines with it. The control of your body has gone from you to your orgasm.

Jungkook moans watching you as his hand reaches his own cock thats hard again. He starts to pump himself as you catch your breath, your body still shakes.

"You surely enjoyed that" he says.

"Very much" you answer.

"Can we fuck now?" He asks. It's inevitable. You didn't think you'd come this hard in front of him. You look at his cock hard and ready to fuck you senseless.

Your lingering gaze tells him enough. He takes position above you. And before you know his tip is massaging your insides as he thrusts himself again and again.

Your phone starts suddenly ringing and with the surprise he sits up still holding his shaft. You fumble with the objects inside your handbag and take your phone out.

It was the hotel manager telling you they've arranged a special meal for you and your guest. Jungkook rubs himself against your clit and you almost moan yet he doesn't stops instead smirks.

As soon as you cut the call, he starts to fuck you again this time relentlessly. You both struggle to hold for long and come within minutes. He pulls out at the right moment, makes a mess all over your tummy and you clench around nothing as a short quick orgasm washes over you.

It's hard to speak after what you two did. You decided to take turns to shower. Thankfully you had an emergency pair of panties in your handbag which remains there all the time in case you unexpectedly start your period.

It's a rooftop setting where your food was. You had developed an appetite after the things you did that had tired you out immensely. You hadn't expected this at all, you were firm before entering the room that you'll just make out with him but so is life and it's happenings, one thing leads to another.

You sit across the table from Jungkook.

"It got a little crazy I'm sorry. I just lost..." he interrupts you and you wait for him to speak, "It was so fucking good... don't you dare try and deny that" he gives you a serious look and you chuckle.

"It'd been a while since I had fun like that. Sometimes one needs that right?" He nods, mouth stuffed with food. Would've bought you food regardless the hotel offered it or not.

"Bet you can say Si-young did a good job hiring me?" You joke.

He bites his lip before he laughs lowly.

"We're done with bookings now. I talked over a few things with the hotel. Guess I'm gonna see you for the final checks now" you speak in a low tone.

When you think about it you're gonna miss him even though it isn't a long time that you two spent together. There's just something about him that does something to your heart which you don't understand.

"Actually I have to go on a trip abroad and I don't know how long it's gonna take to wrap up the work although I'll be here for the wedding anyhow" he tells you. His voice is low. You know how much he wants to look after preparations firsthand.

"Hey don't worry. I hope you have some sort of trust on me now. I'll work my ass off to make sure your sister has the perfect wedding. And I'll give you updates every fifteen minutes." You say reach his hand that rests on the table.

"I'm counting on you" he says tightly holding your hand.

"You can" you answer.

Over the next few weeks you try to make contact with him but the time difference makes it impossible for you to have a conversation with him in real time. Mostly you send him updates regarding the wedding which is just work for you.

On a lucky day, you catch him online at an ungodly hour. You find out he's drunk. He keeps mentioning the sex you both had. Explains in detail, the things he liked which is almost everything about it. You're surprised he remembers it in such detail.

He sends you a pic of his erect penis says he's thinking about how you came and he hopes you look at it and make yourself come even harder. Everytime you are playing with yourself, you do remember the way his fingers worked and try to replicate it. The orgasms are strong that way and with his image in your mind even more.

You have no idea how you're gonna get him out of your mind. Although it brings you some peace that you're in his mind too.

He was in another country, he could be fucking anyone. It's not like he has to try too hard to get some. Yet he was thinking about you while jerking off. He liked the parts which others found a mess and a pain in the ass.

It was the nicest feeling to have someone accept you, appreciate you, like the way your body is and the way you are.

Much to your disappointment, he could only arrive on the day of the wedding. Hours before the ceremony starts. You had completely forgotten about his arrival, drowned in work as you were.

You were checking the lighting and flowers all around the place when two hands touched your shoulders. You turn around freaked out. Although it could be a friend from the staff trying to tell you to relax.

When you look at him you can't belive that he made it. He hugs you and presses a kiss on your forehead.

"Thank you so much for looking after everything so well" he thanks you but you shake your head.

"I'm getting paid" you say, then whisper "a big sum" you add. Although money hadn't been the only motivation for you to work hard on this project.

"Look at you" he fixes your hair, "What has become of you? You work hard more than you need to" he lightly pats your cheek before he guides you to a room at the back.

"Now show me the dress you're wearing.  Will wank in advance so I don't get too horny if you're gonna look too hot" he says.

"What... there's no dress I'll just be wearing what I'm already wearing" you glance at yourself in the mirror, you put on a shirt with embellishments to look not too plain. You don't get ready for every wedding that you plan.

"Good I bought you one. I just saw this while walking on the street and thought how good this'll look on you" he opens his bag and takes a packet out. He rips it open and gives you the dress.

"And you're still interested in me? The time was enough to fall in love with someone new" you say as if he had ever been in love with you.

"I'm not so easy" he says.

"Tell someone else" you respond with a smug look on your face. He chuckles.

"Now are you gonna change or..." he begins to undo the buttons of your shirt.

You think of taking over for a moment but then let him do it.

You help him pull the shirt down your arms leaving you in your bra. His hand reaches your back and he unhooks your bra.

"Hey..." you hold his hand to stop him.

"What? The dress is padded" you hadn't really noticed even when he was showing you the dress you were just busy looking at him.

Your bra slips off and his hand wraps around your tits. He squeezes them then sucks your nipples one by one, covers your whole chest with small kisses. You feel the wetness growing, you can't get too distracted. You have to go out or everything will fall apart.

His hand goes down your navel and rests between your thighs. Your breath hitches as he presses his fingers against your pussy.

"Oops made you wet. Don't worry will gladly help you with it..." he smirks and you remain numb as he slips his hand inside your panties.

The tip of his middle finger presses against your clit. You whimper.

"I don't have time" you complain.

"Alright" he starts to rub you. Circles his finger around your clit.

You were so wet, so aroused. You started to grind yourself on his hand and suddenly came, your juices gushing, clit throbbing against his finger, thighs shaking, you hold him for support.

"Told ya" he chuckles then pulls his hand away and hands you the dress to wear.

You like the dress, it was complimenting his outfit when you two stand together.

He stands behind you and holds your hand bringing it to his throbbing hardness. You rub your fingers on him a little bit then turn towards him.

"I need to be out there to make sure you can ensure the perfect wedding for your cousin." You touch his cheeks.

"Wait for me here after the reception is over. I'll get here and then I'll make you make up for it" you nod giggling before you leave.

When you left the room, you had no idea this was the last time you were ever going to talk to him.

This was the last time you were ever going to see him.

You did come to the room and wait like he asked but instead of him a girl came.

Said she was just made his fiancé and was supposed to wait for him there like the bride had told her to.

You knew who the girl was. You knew where she sat. She was from a business family too.

In the end, like always you got proved wrong. Money emerged victorious over human emotions or feelings.

You might plan a thousand weddings after that but he will always remain a distinct memory. A mysterious man who won your heart in a way you could never describe.

#jungkook fanfic #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook oneshot #bts fanfic #jeongguk #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook #jungkook angst

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || a/b/o

hi so today is @lexirosewrites’s birthday today and like,, idk three or so weeks ago she followed me (hi lexi <3 happy birthday <3 hope today has been fun <3) and to celebrate both of those things i started writing an omegaverse fic, and i wanted it done by today but it is grew a mind of its’ own and now it’s much bigger than i thought it’d be so instead of the full fic, have a snippet <3

again, happy birthday lexi <3

“Hello?” Steve answered, having learned to not open the call with who was answering without knowing who was calling from one too many scam calls

“Is this Steve Harrington?” A soft feminine voice asked, taking Steve by surprise.

“May I ask who’s calling?” Steve asked, not willing to concede his identity until he knew it wasn’t someone looking to sell him ‘Alpha Pills’ or something just as ridiculous.

“Of course! My name is Chrissy Cunningham, you sent in an application for being a full time nanny and tutor?” She responded with a cheerful voice. “I can’t <i>really</i> go much more in depth without an NDA being signed.”

Recognition zapped through Steve’s body and he sat up in his seat. “Oh! Yes, I’m Steve. Um. I’d be happy to sign an NDA, just may I ask why?”

“Yes, you may! My client is a big fan of privacy and only agreed to hire someone if they were under an NDA for the protection of their pup.” aaand all of Steve’s anxiety surrounding the NDA pretty much melted away. Sure, maybe it was a bit much to do, and sure, now he was dying with curiosity to know just <i>who</i> he had ended up applying to, but the knowledge that the NDA was for the protection of the pup soothed any anxiety Steve had originally felt about signing an NDA. In fact, it kind of made his omega perk up. He shook off the feeling, focusing on Chrissy.

“That’s actually really relieving to hear,” Steve said with a laugh. “When or where can I sign the NDA?” he questioned, wondering when Robin would be home so he could tell her.

“Well, first, you and I will do a preliminary interview, just like any other job interview. Then, if all goes well, I’ll send you an email containing the NDA for you to review and sign,” Chrissy explained clearly and cheerfully. “After you sign the NDA, my client will perform an in-person interview and then we’ll go from there.”

“That all seems pretty straight forward so far,” Steve replied, standing from where he had been lounging on the couch. He walked to the kitchen, where he and Robin had put up a magnetic whiteboard calendar to fill with each of their schedules and plans. He grabbed the blue marker, his color, and prepared to jot down when they’d have the interview.

“Perfect! Happy to hear it,” Chrissy said with an audible smile.

“When will the interview with you be?” Steve asked, biting his lip as he stared at the calendar, which had sparsely been marked with his blue marker, even since starting this job hunt. Robin’s plans were in red, and was much more abundant due to having three part time jobs.

“Well, as soon as possible, really. If you’re available now, we could take care of it right away.” the woman responded, sounding like she was walking into another room.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed, recapping the marker and returning it to the pen holder. “Yes, of course. I’m available now.”

“Perfect!” Chrissy’s voice sounded from Steve’s phone as the omega walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. “So, starting off pretty easy here, what made you apply for this position?”

Steve thought back and grimaced at the reminder that it was Robin who had submitted his application to this particular job. He wasn’t about to admit that, though, and quickly found a more appropriate response.

“Well, I love taking care of pups, and I just got my teacher’s license a month ago,” Steve explained, which wasn’t a lie, so he figured it was probably as good of an answer as any. “I also saw that this job traveled, and my best friend thought that it’d be good for me.”

“Yes, that was going to be part of this conversation, too. So, you’re obviously alright with the traveling, then?” Chrissy asked and Steve heard what he thought could be pen scratching as she wrote notes. He swallowed thickly, suddenly anxious about what she was writing. He decided to ignore his anxiety, even as his scent soured around him with it.

“Oh, yes, traveling is more than okay,” Steve agreed immediately, “but it’s more important to me that I’ll be taking care of a pup, if I’m honest.”

This statement seemed to pique Chrissy’s attention, as the writing stopped for a moment. “Why is that?” she eventually asked.

Steve winced, wondering if he should be up front about it or not. If Robin were here, she would insist that he was honest. He decided on a half-truth.

“I’ve always wanted pups, and a lot of them,” Steve admitted, fidgeting with a loose piece of thread on the couch. He switched which arm was holding the phone, as he had started to get a little sore from holding it up for so long. “But I don’t have a partner, so I can’t really have my own right now. I discovered through babysitting for one of my neighbors that I have a knack for taking care of pups.”

The scratching noise was back as Chrissy listened to his responses. Steve was nervous he wasn’t doing well, but figured that it wasn’t going bad if she wasn’t suddenly calling the interview short.

“Your resume says that you’re good in high stress situations,” Chrissy said after a couple seconds of silence as she wrote down whatever notes she was taking. Steve briefly wondered if he should be doing the same thing. “I’m going to give you an example scenario, and you’re going to tell me how you’d respond.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Steve agreed, trying not to let his voice betray how anxious he was.

“For the sake of simplicity, we’ll say the pup’s name is Rosie,” she informed him before she continued to describe the scenario. “You’re taking Rosie to the park, when suddenly there is a crowd of people surrounding you and you lose sight of her. What do you do?”

Steve thought the scenario was odd, but not ‘out there’ enough to alarm him. He thought about his answer for a moment before replying.

“I would try to follow her scent, first, because that will usually lead me to any pup I’ve babysat. If that doesn’t work, I will call out for her. If the situation is bad enough, I would contact the authorities, and either you or Rosie’s father.” he paused for a second before continuing, trying to make sure he covered all of his bases. “But honestly? If Rosie is small enough, I would have rather carried her once I saw the crowd, or hold her hand, for the reason of lowering my chances of separation.”

Silence that’s only broken up by the scratching of pen against paper followed, and Steve was suddenly anxious that he answered incorrectly. He answered what he would do if it were his own pup, but what if that wasn’t right? What if he wasn’t cut out for this job?

“Alright, next scenario,” Chrissy said, moving swiftly onto the next one without commenting on his answer; Steve didn’t know if he preferred her not acknowledging it or if he would prefer to be told his answer was shitty up front. The next few scenarios were just as oddly specific, but Steve answered them exactly as he did the first one. He tried to not overthink his answers too much because between each one there would be a stretch of time that Chrissy used to presumably write his answers down.

“One last question and then we should be good to move forward.” Chrissy said a good twenty minutes of questions later. “When would you be available to start working?”

Steve’s eyebrows raised, surprised that he was seemingly, maybe being offered the job. “Um—immediately. I would need time to pack, but other than that, I’m free.”

“Wonderful,” Chrissy said cheerfully. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Do you have any questions for me?”

Steve hummed, trying to go through his usual list of questions he asked during interviews that hadn't already been answered and came up empty. “Not at the moment, but I’ll make sure to write any I think of down, if I do.”

“Perfect! So, I will consult with my client, and I have a few other applicants that are interested, but so far, you are my top pick, but I don’t make the decisions,” Chrissy laughed, as if Steve was in on the joke. He laughed with her, not knowing what else he should have done. So, maybe not a job offer, but it sounded promising anyway. “I will be in contact in a few days, three at most.”

“Sounds good, thank you so much for considering me, Chrissy,” he responded with a smile, hoping to leave one last good impression.

#whdbehsh i literally screamed when you followed me lexi #and then showed it to everyone i’m friends with in steddie #and was like ‘well now i GOTTA write an omegaverse fic’ #snd they were like ‘well you don’t gotta’ #and i was like ‘no i do. and i will.’ #and then i did 😌 #steve harrington #chrissy cunningham #eventually eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #pre steddie #tw a/b/o #tw omegaverse #oh heck also #mentions robin buckley #stuck in your throat #unsteddie writing