#IT'S GONNA BE. ENORMOUS. SCREAMS.

[altschmerzes]

doing some broad strokes sketching out of the next few chapters of wriggle up on dry land and i just keep ending up with my hands over my face in dismay because this fic is going to be so fucking long. it's going to be heinously long oh my gd i'm so sorry.

[lovsome]

i need to vent about SH (tw !!!!!) for a sec in the tags bc i am feeling very overwhelmed sorry

[bee-wg]

Year 4:

Beep Beep Beep Beep

“Oh my god, uncle! You’re gonna burn the house down!” Theo yelled.

“David, What happened? Is your hand bleeding?” Mom screamed

“Ahahaha, it’s nothing Chloe, don’t worry about it. I was just trying to make everyone a surprise breakfast,” Dad said.

“It’s nothing? There’s fire on the stove!” Mom said frantically.

“I got the fire extinguisher, don’t worry. Just a little mishap,” Dad said, trying to cheer them up.

“Uncle, you’re bleeding all over the fire extinguisher! We need to get him to the hospital,” Theo said.

“Hahaha, I guess I am a little clumsy,” Dad said.

Beep Beep Beep

“Someone please turn off the fire alarm, it’s stressing me out,” Mom asked

“What’s happening?” I asked, half asleep in my Pajamas.

Sometimes life surprises you, one moment, you were having a sweet dream. Then, you’re driving your bleeding father to the hospital in Pajamas. The new SUV does feel nice to drive, at least.

“I’m fine, guys. I think it must be the sugar. If I would’ve put more in it, this wouldn’t have happened,” Dad said.

“David, I love you, but don’t you EVER pull stupid stunts like that again,” Mom said, leaning on Dad’s shoulder.

Apparently, Dad wanted to surprise us with waffles for breakfast and thank Mom for all the delicious food she made. He was also hungry for a snack, so he broke Mom's one rule: Don’t mess with her kitchen.

The doctor said he could remove the cast in two months, about the time Theo and I graduate. He already got an internship in a restaurant, bringing home some fancy leftovers. 

Mom has not let off her sight from Dad since we got back. She gave him a firm warning and pinched his cheek. Now Dad gets ice cream and meals delivered to his mouth without lifting a finger.

I wish someone would do that for me. Imagine not having to leave the bed and constantly having sweets in your mouth. That would be a dream.

My thoughts disturb me sometimes. 

Since winning the competition, I have accepted that I will never be muscular again. The original plan was to savour everything I could for a year, then go on a diet. Mom and Theo have slowed down with the food so that I won’t eat until my stomach is about to burst, but they won’t refuse if I ask for something.

Now I am close to 500 pounds with my stomach always growling for more. I guess it’s just another fat ass behaviour I would have to accept.

Since losing weight is out of the question, I have figured out a way to keep my core muscle fit enough to support the enormous belly in front of me. It’s simple, I stick an 8-inch dildo from Seven’s house to my chair, and I would sit on it when I’m playing video games or watching a movie. When the itch gets too much, I can use my core muscles to lift myself up and down. This way, I get to work out and get off. It's not good for the chair, but who cares? It’s reinforced.

***

It was a regular lunchtime when Brad broke into my house again. Usually, he would greet my parents and head straight upstairs to perform witchcraft for all I care, but today, his footsteps are leading to my door.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Brad is the kind of asshole that does not knock. I still have the dildo in me!

I panicked and pulled up my pants before getting off the dildo.

He came in right as I flopped my belly down to cover the fact that my pants were not fully pulled up.

“Sup,” I said.

“Sup, Jay,” he reached out his fist for a bump.

“So, you know our last season of football in college just ended,” he said. 

Brad walked to my left to sit on my bed.

I rotate my seat to face him so he doesn’t see my ass hanging out in the back.

“Oh, fuck!” I yelped.

Fuck, the dildo twisted in the movement, now poking my prostate. 

“You okay, dude?” Brad asked.

“Of course, continue,” I said with the best smile I could muster.

“The guys are celebrating, so it’s like the last party for the team, and I was wondering if,”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll go,” I said quickly.

“Oh, that’s it? You usually don't like to go out or like- move at all,” he said, then stood up.

His sudden movement startled me, and the dildo jerked deeper.

“Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Brad said, walking closer.

“I’m all good bruh, don’t worry,” I said.

I can feel my hole tensing, almost swallowing the dildo whole.

“I just don’t want you to be angry at me for fucking your cousin. If you want me to stop, I will,” he said.

“You what the who?” I said, baffled.

“I’m fucking,”

“Ew no, don’t tell me. I’m fine as long as you never mention doing that with my cousin ever again,” I said.

He let out a breath.

“Well, that’s something out of my chest. I’m going up now. I’ll come here and pick you up tomorrow night,” Brad said, rushing out the door.

I let out a breath too.

The locks will never be open after this traumatic experience.

My ass is still tingling, so I quickly fuck myself with the dildo to get over with it.

***

The drive to the house has been excruciatingly slow because Brad is a cautious driver. It leaves a lot of time to think without food distracting me.

I am now extremely aware of the bright yellow Pikachu face stretching across my belly. There aren't many clothes that fit me, and it’s been a while since I went out, so I didn’t bother buying new shirts. 

I haven’t seen them in a while. They’re gonna think I’m fucking lame.

“Dude, snap out of it. Everyone there misses you. I didn’t invite the assholes,” Brad said.

“…I guess.” 

“You’re doing the arm-scratching thing again, haven’t seen you doing that in a while,” Brad said.

“I’m going to put on some music, and you’re going to stop thinking, okay?” Brad added.

“Yeah, okay,” I replied.

When we opened the door, Marcus the quarterback greeted us, and half my worries melted away. 

He is about 300 pounds, which feels skinny to me now. At least I’m not the only fat one.

Now that I look into it, not everyone has defined abs. I don’t know why I expected everyone to be runway models. Even Brad is softer around the middle.

“Dude! Where have you been?” Aiden yelled.

“Oh shit, you look humongous, my guy,” Braxton said.

We quickly got back into the groove we had two summers ago.

Brad booted up a party game, and we tried our hardest to destroy each other.

We also caught up on what each of us was up to this past year, or what to do with our future. Aiden wants to marry his girlfriend, Marcus wants to join his boyfriend’s band, and Brad wants to be a freelance artist alongside his side job.

When the night came, They ordered some Chicken wings and pizzas.

“Fuck yeah, trash food! No more diet from Coach,” Aiden said, taking away half the pizza.

“By the way, I bought extra pizzas to see how much we can push ourselves,” Brad said.

I have a bad feeling about this.

“Of course, if it’s too much, we can always count on Jay,” Brad laughed.

There are six of us, with twenty large pizzas. I am screwed.

“It’s just some pizzas, no big deal. I can beat Jay easily,” Braxton, the most muscular guy in the group, said.

“Hahaha, don’t underestimate him, my dude,” Brad replied.

Except for Marcus, all of them are wimps. They started groaning and bitching after a few slices.

“Damn it, how do you make it look so easy,” Aiden asked.

“There’s a technique to it, dumb ass. I trained for this shit,” I answered.

Aiden then passed out from the food coma after six slices. 

Two more people soon followed after him.

Brad is on his way to his second pizza. His stomach has never looked this bloated before. Marcus is trying his hardest on his fourth one, but the guy is barely hanging on.

When the seventh pizza box emptied, I was stuffed beyond belief.

The guys woke up and refocused their energy on me to finish the rest.

“There’s only two left, people. Finish it,” I said, pointing at the boxes.

“We’re not on your level, Jay. You’re like, a pro at this,” Aiden said.

“Yeah, man. Only you can do it,” Brad said.

Braxton handed the pizza box over, and they started feeding me slice by slice.

“Come on Jay, you’re better than this,” Aiden said and rubbed my belly.

These people have no personal boundaries like always.

I am beyond capacity after the eighth one.

This was most likely a fucked up plan by Brad to show they don’t care I’m a fat ass. I still believed they wouldn’t like me because of my size until a few hours ago, now it seems ridiculous to reject all those party invites last year. Well, maybe I was up to something because now they’re trying to suffocate me with pizzas.

When Aiden stuffed the last of the slices in my mouth, everyone cheered.

Tonight was absurd, but I got my friends back. When some guys were not happy for a fat guy to be on the team, they stopped hanging out with me. I thought I was a lost cause.

“Dude, you better come back next time,” Aiden said.

“I’m gonna beat you next time, Jay. Watch it,” Braxton said.

“Awesome to have you back, man,” Marcus said.

It reminds me of that summer when we hung out by the river every time the fast food party room got too suffocating, when my worries were carried away by the water. 

“Thanks, Brad. For doing this,” I told him once we got in the car.

“No problem, I’m always here,” he answered.

I must have gotten too sentimental, or pizzas are clogging my brain, but I opened my Instagram and tabbed Recent in the search bar.

It seems like he made some new decorations for the coffee shop. 

I scrolled down to see the picture of the beach.

“Stop scrolling like a creep, Jay. Just call him,” he said.

“What?” I asked.

“He’s still waiting for that coffee,” Brad said.

“You still talk to Ave?” I asked.

“This is fucking depressing to watch, Jay. You guys were best friends,” he said.

“You know, I was kinda jealous of you guys back in the day. I was the skinny guy who got bullied on the side, and you were the guy on the team who still takes the time of day to befriend me. I only had you, and you also had him. It’s frustrating seeing you throw that away,” he finishes.

He doesn’t understand though. I’m a hypocrite who ignored Ave when he got fat. I don’t deserve his attention.

***

It’s been two weeks since our graduations and Dad getting his cast off. Mom has been working full-time, trying to figure out what we could do as a family to celebrate. It’s proven to be difficult when there are two 500-pound whales in said family. We can’t fit into any amusement park ride, and we’ll sink into the bottom of the ocean if we go to the beach. So, the rational thing to do is a picnic. At least that’s what I suggested. But Mom insisted a camping trip was the best family bonding option. For two whales.

It’s fine, I thought to myself. We have done this plenty of times.

After stuffing Dad in the front seat and the emergency food boxes in the back of the SUV. Mom explained the bags of medicines she bought like a flight attendant with the safety instructions. She must have been traumatized by Dad’s injury. He’s not allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, like moving his hand to eat. Hence, the army medical packs.

Mom went through the bottles of fox spray, bear spray, mosquito spray, sun spray and pepper spray, and then we finally got moving.

On our way there, we had some intermissions at the gas stations to replenish snacks. Theo whined it, but this was all his fault anyway.  If only he hadn’t grown our monstrous appetite, and forced musical soundtracks to be played in the car for hours, I might have skipped over a few snack breaks.

Recently, my weight has stabilized at about 520 pounds. Thank God my exercises on the chair worked; otherwise, I’m going to blow up on my way to the camp. 

“Guys, Brad said safe trip, and he’ll miss us,” Theo said.

“He probably only meant you,” I replied.

Theo has been giggling for an hour straight, looking at his phone.

“I’ll miss you, Bradley. The signal’s breaking off. See you soon!” Theo said.

We set up the camp in a few hours. By the time we were done, the sun had already set, giving the mountain an orange hue. 

Today we’re going up to Sunshore Lake. It’s going to be a steep walk, but I’m ready to flex my athletic prowess.

It was not a good sign that I was already sweating before arriving at the entrance.

“David, this is a bit steeper than I remembered. Do you guys want to stay down here?” Mom said.

“Nah. Jay and I will do it. This is a piece of cake compared to what we used to do. Right, son?” Despite not having to walk for more than a year, Dad remains confident.

“Hell yeah, Dad. Let’s show them what we're made of!” I said.

I give up. We’re a third of the way through, and I can feel my belly weighing me down.

“Come on -huff, son, you -huff-can do it!” Dad said, looking worse than I do.

Theo looked at us and chuckled.

“Guys, I’m so sorry! I should’ve known this was too much,” Mom said, panicking.

“It’s- it’s all good, Chloe. Remember you married the- huff- Star athlete back in college?” Dad smiled at Mom and gave her a thumbs up.

“Need a hand?” Theo asked me.

“Isn’t that too much?” I motioned to our luggage on his back.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” he swung my arm behind his shoulder and carried me.

He’s been doing that more often than not when I couldn’t get up. Probably the reason he got all those muscles under his shirt. What happened to the noodle arm ginger?

“Thanks, man. I guess I don’t have to roll back down there,” I said.

When we were halfway through, Dad told us solemnly.

“I- I don’t think I can make it.”

“Noooo, David I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for things to end this way,” Mom said with tears in her eyes.

“I love you guys. You’re the light of my life. I am honour to be a husband, a father, and a-” 

“Dad, you’re not dying. We’re almost there,” I said.

“Is it too late to call an emergency helicopter?” Mom asked.

“David, I love you, but I really don’t want to touch you right now. Can you pull through yourself, baby?” Mom said, looking at the sweat ball that was Dad.

Theo burst out laughing, and I couldn’t help but join too, even if I was in an equally dire situation.

When we got to the top, everyone was exhausted. 

We cleaned ourselves up with towels, and Mom went to check the Kayaking information. 

Dad and I were too big for it, as expected, so we went to find a good spot for fishing.

“I’m so excited. I have never kayaked before!” Theo said, looking as refreshed as ever.

Before we set up our fishing gear, they eagerly ditched us.

The Lake looked as calm as ever. It's boring with little going on.

Mom and Theo are probably in the middle of the lake now.

Staring at the stale water, I realized Dad was not perfect. He’s a little stubborn, clueless sometimes, but that’s what I like about him. I don’t know if anyone would find my quirks appealing. if Ave would.

I’m just a Lazy food addict who basically lives in his mom’s basement, so maybe not.

“Jay?” Dad said.

“What’s up, Dad?” I asked.

“You think too much, buddy.”

“You were always an overthinker since you were a toddler,” Dad said.

“I remember you told me you wanted to play football instead of hockey because hockey will give you frostbites, and freeze you into those Neanderthals from the museums,” Dad said.

“Oh Gosh,” he still remembers.

“You know what?” Dad said, then quickly took off his shirt.

“Let’s go for a swim,” He said with a smile.

“But the fishing,” I said.

“Don’t worry about the fish,” He said, walking back and charging towards the water.

The cannonball created a massive splash, making me completely wet.

“Mother of God, it’s freezing! Did you see that, Jay?” He said with a laugh.

“Yeah, that was pretty cool,” I chuckled. It’s not every day you see a chunky beast jumping into the water.

“Come on, Jay, take it off and jump!” he said.

I have not taken off my shirt in public since middle school, when I started to notice my flaws. Even in the locker room, I would find a bathroom stall to change.

“Don’t overthink it, Jay! Trust me!” Dad said.

Don’t overthink, I thought.

I took off my shirt and back off. When I pick up the pace, my entire body is wobbling.

With all the strength I have, I jumped.

Shit, this was a bad idea.

The cold water hit me.

First, nothing but white bubbles clouded me. Then, schools of fish surrounding me appeared in my vision, hurrying away from the meteor strike. I moved my legs slightly apart on the lakebed, so I don’t step on the tiny crabs while they take refuge in the kelp forest.

“Holy Fuck, it’s freezing!” I said as I pulled my head out of the water.

“Hahahaha, watch your mouth, Jay. You don’t want to summon your mother here,” Dad said.

The view down there was breathtaking; it was what I expected, but not. The fish looked different from a simple change of scenery. I wouldn't have known if I had never jumped.

“I’m proud of you, Jay. That was a huge splash. Aren’t the views here amazing?” he said.

“Thank you, Dad. I wouldn’t have done it without you,” I said.

“You did it all by yourself, kid,” he replied.

We kept exploring the lake until our stomachs growled in protest.

After setting up the fire, we roasted some fish in the bucket and made S’mores from caramel marshmallows. 

Theo and Mom joined and we talked about the stories we had at school or some embarrassing stories of me Dad has kept.

The next day, we packed up our stuff to leave. The mountain is beautiful and all, but Dad and I are starving for some real food.

On our way down, I realized that I had been the biggest enemy to myself. There are so many supportive people surrounding me when my self-doubt overshadows them.

The signal bars slowly appear one by one. I opened Avery’s profile picture.

If he rejects me, I’ll be embarrassed in front of a person I really care about.

I shouldn’t overthink.

There’s nothing more I can lose when I already lost his company.

So I texted.

“Hey, Ave. I know I’m late, but would you mind if I take you up on your offer for the coffee?”

“...” a text bubble appeared.

“I thought you'd never ask.”

[happywitch416]

I deserve financial compensation for being the eldest daughter. I should not have to use mom voice on my own mother.

[fairlyang]

Appreciate 🕷️

caught masturbating while babysitting

w/c: 5.1K

pairing: dilfneighbor!miguel x latinababysitter!reader

tags: 18+ smut. slow burn oops, age gap (not specified but reader is early 20's, mig early 30's, dirty thoughts ensue, caught masturbating, he helps you out, fingering, staying quiet

notes: the getting caught fucking KILLED me rn while editing I cannot😭

Miguel O'Hara was one of your neighbors and your parents quickly got a liking to the single father across the street. He was very laidback and kind, accommodating with all the neighbors for literally anything.

So considering that when Miguel would say he never had time for himself due to always taking care of his daughter, Gabriella, your dad told him you'd be happy to babysit for him while he took him out to get a couple drinks with a few of the other dads in the neighborhood.

But of course you had no fucking clue this conversation was even had until the day your dad promised him some drinks.

"Oye mija le prometí a Miguel que ibas a quedar a su hija para sacarlo a tomarnos unos tragos." He tells you standing by your doorway while you sat on your bed and then just walks away. (Hey honey I promised Miguel that you were going to take care of his daughter so we could take him out to have a couple drinks)

"Porque hiciste eso?!!?!" You yelled and quickly hopped out of bed and ran after him beyond pissed. (Why did you do that?!!?!)

"Si apenas me estaba alistando para salir con mis amigas no chingues!!!!" You screamed following down the stairs in your heels that clicked on every step. (I was just getting ready to go hang out with my friends. it's a phrase that can be used for shock or when shit goes wrong)

"Pues dile a Miguel que se canceló el plan entonces." He says so confident you wouldn't do it until you walk past him and heading straight to the front door. (Then go tell Miguel that the plans are canceled)

"AY OKAY! Que quieres?" He says and rolls his eyes as you turn around to face him. (What do you want?)

"Me debes un enorme favor. Lo que sea cuando te lo pida." You say and point a finger at him, just to show you really mean it. (You owe me enormous favor. Whatever it is, whenever I ask you of it)

"Ya que-" (ugh whatever- or like 'since I have no other choice')

"Tu mismo te hiciste esto." You quickly cut him off and he only groans. (You only did this to yourself)

"Pues deja me pongo cómoda. Ya que no tengo otra opción." You say and glare at him to which he only gives you a goofy smile. (Let me get comfortable. Now that I don't have another option)

You reluctantly went upstairs, annoyed that this was how your Friday night was gonna go over going clubbing with your friends.

But shit happens, what can you really do?

You go back to your room and take off your perfectly chosen red mini dress and put the sweats you were wearing earlier back on. You then grab a tee shirt that had hello kitty on it with some sunglasses, hoping to get some brownie points by the little girl at least.

You then slip on a pair of purple crocs and you're done. Until you realized you had already put your makeup on so now you have to take it off.

What a waste.

You grab a makeup wipe that you had on your desk and wipe off your eye makeup, then everything else only leaving your lips alone.

Then grabbing your phone off your bed, sending a quick text to your friends that you can't make it and you head back downstairs. "Vámonos." Your dad says and snaps his finger as if he has any room to complain. (Let's go.)

He opened the front door and you walked out right behind him as you mumble how annoying he was to which he told you to just calm down and it wouldn't be that bad.

You walked across the street and stepped up to his front door, your dad ringing the doorbell to which you then hear loud footsteps coming from inside.

Then the door opens by none other than the very energetic 8 year old. This was going to be a long night...

You smile down at her and give her a wave which she returns and gives you a toothy grin of her own. "Gabi donde está tu papá?" You asked and she just pointed up. (where's your dad?)

"Se está poniendo sus tenis! Dijo voy a jugar con alguien nueva." She says and goes back inside letting out giggles as she walks to the living room. (He's putting on his shoes! He said I get to play with someone new)

You follow her in and see coloring books, crayons, colored pencils and markers all over the coffee table in front of the tv. "Te gusta colorear?" She asked as she takes a seat behind the table as you make your way around the couch to sit on the floor with her. (Do you like to color?)

"Si me encanta!" You say and her eyes lit up. (Yes I love it!)

Suddenly you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and straighten up as Miguel comes down giving you a bright smile.

And lord did he clean up nice.

He was wearing a black button up with some jeans and black boots, and his hair slicked back. You gave him a smile as he walked over to you and Gabi, who was also shining her big smile. "Papi también le gusta colorear!!" She says jumping up onto the couch and grinning ear to ear. (she also likes to color!!)

He gasps and tickles her sides making her erupt into fits of giggles, "de verdad?" He says and turns to you, to which you give a small shrug and just smile. (really?)

He stops tickling her and she hops off the couch just to sit back down on the floor. You turn to him and he walks around the couch leaning down, and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek to which you return at the same time.

"Thank you so much for this, I really appreciate it." He says and you pull back, waving him off before he continues, "Gabi's on a little sugar rush right now but she'll be calm within the next hour and will want to go to bed right after. She's a very deep sleeper so feel free to use the tv and help yourself to any of the food."

You nod and watch as he bends over and whispers something to her ear to which Gabi nods and gives him a thumbs up. He gets up and mouthed another thank you then walks out the front door.

Maybe this won't be too bad.

And it wasn't.

You ended up coloring two pages of a finding nemo coloring book while she was coloring on a spongebob coloring book. And surprisingly stayed in the lines.

After that she wanted you to play with her dolls to which you felt happy to, it was like reliving your childhood and she was such a sweet kid.

You noticed it was 8pm and helped Gabi put away all her coloring things and let her lead you to her bedroom.

She runs in as you carry her art supplies and she points to a desk for you to leave them on.

You walk over to her dresser where Miguel left a pair of pjs for her to put on and help her take off shoes as well as her glittery shirt and pants.

She then puts on her pjs and goes off to brush her teeth all by herself. Made your job even easier.

She runs back in after a few minutes and plops down onto her bed, "can you tuck me in? Porfis?" She asks and give little puppy dog eyes. (Please)

"Of course." You nod and walk over to her princess bed.

"Como un burrito!" She giggles making you laugh. (Like a burrito!)

So you pull her blanket over her body and let her lift her arms before tucking her in tightly which just made the little girl giggle. You go down and tuck her nicely tight before coming up and passing her the stuffed animal she was reaching for.

A spider.

Weird option but it had cute eyes.

"Goodnight Gabi, sueña de cosas bonitas." You whisper and smile at her as she gives you one back. (dream of pretty things)

You turn off her lamp from her bedside table, then walk towards her door, turning the light switch off before finally closing the door.

You head downstairs, turning off all the lights, and plop down on one of the couches in the living room. You scroll on your phone but then quickly grow bored so you reach over the coffee table and grab the remote control.

You turn the tv on and go through the apps they had and decide to watch 'A Nightmare on Elm Street'. You kick your crocs off then make yourself comfortable before turning to watch the tv.

You got to watch the first scene before your eyes started fluttering and you pass out.

You don't wake up until you hear the jingle of the door and you jump up, wiping your eyes and sitting up to watch Miguel come through the door, surprisingly not shit faced.

You stood up and greeted him with a hug, then a kiss on the cheek as he gives you one back. "Como les fue?" You ask and he shrugs. (How'd it go?)

You then pull away and take quick notice of the lipstick stains along his neck. You look back up at him and he smiles, "estuvo bien." (It was good)

Sure looks like it.

You shrug and smile, "que bien! If you need me to babysit just let my parents know and hopefully I'll be available." You offer and he sighs. (That's good!)

"I really appreciate it," he starts and takes his wallet out which you look at with a confused look, "me vale que era un favor, no me siento bien en no pagarte un poco." (I don't care that it was a favor, I feel bad in not paying you a little bit)

"Y más porque tu papá me dijo que tu ya tenías planes y ni sabías de esto." He says with a sympathetic smile while handing you a $50 bill. (And more because your dad told me that you had plans and didn't even know about this)

You widen your eyes and shake your head, "no te preocupes! Está bien y Gabi se porto bien! No me tienes que pagar Miguel." You say and wave him off. (Don't worry about it! It's okay and Gabi behaved well! You don't have to pay me.)

"Por favor tómalo, me siento mal. Agarra el dinero para que tomes con tus amigas, yo picho." He says, letting out a chuckle at the last two words and you sigh. (Please take it, I feel bad. Grab the money so you can drink with your friends, I'll pay."

His eyes were pleading and it looked like he felt bad but it wasn't even his fault. If anything your dad should be the one paying.

"Si no para la próxima le digo a Gabi que lo esconda en tu ropa." He threatens making you burst out laughing. (If not for the next time I'll tell Gabi to hide it in your clothes)

"Creo que quiero ver eso..." you joke and he laughs. (I think I wanna see that)

"Mis papas me matarán si lo tomo Miguel. De verdad estás bien!" You reassure him and he sighs. (My parents will kill me if I take it Miguel. Seriously you're fine!)

"Eres bien terca." He mutters and you scoff. (You're very stubborn)

A smirk tugs on his lips and you had to fight the thoughts entering your mind. Sure he was fine as hell, you already knew that but you shouldn't be thinking this mid conversation.

"Maybe next time I'll accept it!" You say and shrug as he slides the bill back in his wallet.

"Fine." He sighs in defeat and tilts his head to the side, "but I'll still make Gabi hide it in your clothes just for good measure." He jokes making you smile.

"Yeah yeah." You wave him off and walk past him to the front door.

"Thank you again, I appreciate it." He says turning to face you and opens the door for you.

"Course! Anytime, and now I'll actually know about it." You joke making him roll his eyes.

"Tu papá es algo más." He says and you nod. (Your dad is something else)

"Lo se." You mutter and finally walk out before you waste anymore of his time. (I know)

"Cuidate!" He shouts as you walk out of his porch and onto the sidewalk. (Stay safe!)

You turn back to him and wave before turning back and crossing the street back to your house. You open the door assuming your dad didn't lock it and sure enough it was open.

As you stepped in and closed the door you noticed Miguel was still outside his door, making sure you did stay safe.

So sweet.

You give him one last wave before closing the door and immediately head to your room.

You open the door and quickly close it before taking off your crocs once again and plopping down onto your bed.

And now finally your thoughts could roam free.

His hair was slicked back before he left the house, right now that shit was all over the place.

And the lipstick stains on his neck??

He definitely got his own fun tonight but you couldn't help but feel so jealous.

It's not your fault if you occasionally had a wandering eye whenever Miguel was around.

Or peeking out through your bedroom window to watch him when he mowed the lawn. Shirtless.

Or stare at him longer than you should at random carne asadas the neighbors would host.

It was natural for a young woman to feel attraction towards an older man like him.

Especially with daddy issues but that's besides the point-

He stood out from the other dads in the neighborhood, he was younger. Respectful, kind, helpful.

Everything a woman could ever ask for.

So you couldn't help but instantly felt a twinge of jealousy when you saw the lipstick stains on his neck.

Why couldn't that be you that left them?

At least now you know he looked really good in red..

But at what cost? Feeling your entire being now getting taken over by jealousy of a man you have no right to and probably stand no chance in ever having?

Or touching...

And there came the horny thoughts that always seemed to appear in the back of your mind. He always just did something to you. Your body couldn't help but want him, crave him, his touch.

So you repeated the endless cycle of anytime you see him just having to masturbate. It was becoming a bad habit, but not hurting anyone.

——————

Alas you had to use your own fingers to make you cum and not Miguel's. Again.

But you moved on and let the next day pass. Nothing eventful happened, and there were no Miguel sightings to be found.

That was until you got a text from an unknown number and low and behold it was the man you were daydreaming about all day.

Unknown number

Hey it's Miguel! I asked your dad for your number, hope that's fine but was wondering if you could babysit for me tmrw?

Got scheduled for a late shift at the lab and don't want Gabi home alone🥲

It was embarrassing how quickly you started typing your response but how could you say no?

You're good!! And I'd love to! What time?

No way he could sense your desperation to see him again through text. Right?

You added him to your contacts before he finally texts back.

Miguel💞

Around 6, getting out at midnight so please let me pay you this time

You sigh and quickly type back.

Alrightttt

And sounds good I'll be seeing you guys tmrw:)

And with that no more messages from him came in but he left a like to your second message.

And the rest of your night was uneventful besides the occasional wet dream filling your mind and distracting you.

——————

It was the next day and you were practically counting down the hours until you had to go babysit.

Given you wouldn't even see Miguel for too long before or after but still. You'd have to make do with the amount of time you will see him.

But because you knew you'd just be playing or coloring with Gabi again, you decided to just dress comfortably over trying to impress Miguel for less than five minutes.

So sweats and a tee shirt again but no bra because who the fuck wants to willingly wear a bra for six hours?

Yeah right.

Now all dressed you grabbed your airpods and phone, slipped your crocs on and went downstairs. Saying a quick goodbye to your parents before exiting your house and trying not to skip on over to Miguel's house.

It was 5:45 but you figured you'd get there early just cause, definitely not to possibly spend a little more time with him.

Definitely not.

You walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Instantly the door flew open and Gabi opened the door wide so you could come in.

You ruffle her hair as she grins up at you, "cómo estás Gabi?" (How are you?)

"Bien! Apenas comí pozole!" She says as you walk in and she happily closes the door behind you. (Good! I just ate pozole!)

You gasp and were about to respond when Miguel came down. "The pot is still warm si te quieres servir un plato." He says giving you a quick hug and kiss on your cheek. (if you want a plate)

"Might just have to." You reply giving him a smile once he pulled away.

He was wearing a white lab coat, maybe a white button up and you didn't want to look down to see the rest.

His hair was slicked back again but the best part was that he was wearing thick black glasses. It made him look 100x more attractive but you remained calm.

No way to act like a barbarian right now.

Maybe later.

"Okay have her in bed by seven because she's got school tomorrow and no sweets besides pan dulce with a glass of milk." He says and you chuckle as Gabi storms up to him with a pout on her face.

But he didn't budge.

"Tv and fridge are all yours. Make yourself at home and I'll be back by midnight." He tells you then looks down at Gabi.

"Pórtate bien." He says, leaning down and giving her a kiss on her forehead and a hug. (Behave)

"Ya se papi, ya se." She says and playfully rolls her eyes. (I know dad, I know)

He gives her a warning look before blowing her a kiss as he walks to the front door. He gives her one last look and she just waves him goodbye. He chuckles and opens the door then shuts it behind him.

"Can we watch Bluey?" She looks up at you with pleading little eyes and you nod as she sprints to the living room without another word.

So you end up watching Bluey with Gabi for a good nine episodes before you were slowly losing yourself into this little kids show. The little accents and cute storylines just got to your heartstrings.

And with fifteen minutes left to spare, you wait until the episode Gabi was watching was over before hitting the back button leading you back to the disney+ home screen.

Gabi whined and you shook your head, "no more, you've gotta get ready for bed!"

She groans but nonetheless heads upstairs with you trailing behind her. She gets dressed into her pjs then heads straight to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She's literally an angel.

No way Miguel would have a hard time finding a sitter for her. She's every babysitter's dream. Besides the occasional sarcasm she got from her dad.

But nonetheless still an angel.

Finally she's in bed and you're tucking her in, once again passing her the stuffed spider, who you learned she named Gabri, after her favorite uncle.

You then shut off the lights and walk out of her room, closing the door gently.

You walk back downstairs turning off the lights before heading to the living room. You plop down on the couch and get comfortable, this time putting on a blanket that was on the armrest because it was getting cold.

You play a random movie, snuggling the blanket to your face to warm yourself up when you realize it smells like Miguel.

Maybe he was sitting there earlier?

You breathed in and breathed out, feeling so relaxed. Your eyes start fluttering and it's the second time you pass out at Miguel's place. 

You get woken up by screams coming from the tv, probably wasn't the best to play a scary movie but oh well.

You stretched and let out a yawn before switching positions and laying down so your legs were stretched out over the whole couch. You laid your head on the arm rest and wiped your eyes before taking your phone and airpods from your pocket.

You put them both in your ears before just scrolling through your phone. You move the blanket so it was mostly by your chest and stomach, exposing your legs because you weren't cold but still wanted it on you.

Just then you inhale his scent again and he must've been wearing something expensive because it smelled so good.

You then got the absolute best idea imaginable. And with Miguel being away for another two hours along with Gabi sleeping and probably snoring heavily in her room, you would be good.

So you put some music on, a mix of The Weeknd and Lana Del Rey to get you in the perfect mood. But as you closed your eyes your imagination immediately ran wild and there was no stopping you.

You spread your legs and slowly ran a hand over your body, playing with your tits then softly pinching your hardened nipples. Then trailing it up and down your stomach before it lands on the waistband of your sweats.

You slipped your hand in and began by just tracing along your inner thigh, then went deeper. You led two fingers down to rub your clit, only a couple circles before going down and rubbing your slit over your panties.

Your arousal was already building up, and this blanket was helping a ton. You just imagined Miguel on top of you, not caring if he crushed you, just craving him above you. The way he'd be looking down at your eyes while he toyed with you. Had his way with you.

You needed him so desperately, his touch, his mouth, his fingers. Absolutely everything and anything he'd give you.

Your fingers made their way back up to your clit and you started rubbing faster circles against it while bucking your hips up, imagining it's Miguel's fingers.

A moan slipped past your lips and you tried your best to keep quiet as your fingers worked fairly against your bundle of nerves.

"Miguel-" you whispered before letting out a shaky breath as you held onto the blanket tightly with your left arm.

Just the thought of this big, smoking hot dilf climbing on top of you was almost enough to make you explode.

Fortunately your thoughts went broader than that.

Not only is he tall, and big but his cock would most definitely be the best thing you'd ever lay your eyes on. He'd be really thick and you'd probably struggle keeping him inside you.

He'd stretch you out to absolute perfection and you'd tighten around him so good he's be moaning out your name from how good your pussy feels.

You felt your slick seep through your panties and it only made you more relentless. You slipped your hand under your panties, and brought your two fingers to tease your hole.

You'd need the practice.

You dipped your fingers into your folds, just letting your fingers get soaked before finally slipping them both in making you whine.

You bite your lip to shut yourself up before slipping them in harshly, imagine that's how Miguel would fuck you. You feel yourself clench against your fingers as you start to fuck yourself immediately fast, needing him so fucking badly.

His cock would fill you up so good and you wouldn't mind if he came inside. You wouldn't want him to waste any of it.

You cover your mouth with the blanket let yourself moan into it, as you breathe him in with every inhale. You let out mumbled moans of just his name, as you start to fuck yourself harder, your immersion working better than ever tonight.

And it might've manifested into itself when you felt a gently tap on your shoulder which made you open your eyes, and freeze in fear.

It was Miguel.

"W-w-what are you d-doing back so e-early?!?" You ask as you felt your heartbeat increase rapidly.

But you couldn't seem to slip your fingers out. Unable to move and staring blankly ahead and not to your right as Miguel's body loomed over you.

"Finished what we needed to do faster than expected." He says and you could feel his gaze on you. It was hard to miss.

And you were growing more and more nervous by the second. "And this is what you're doing huh?" He whispers and it doesn't help your nerves at all but does make you clench against your fingers.

"I-I- I'm sorry-" you apologize feeling your body flush with embarrassment but get interrupted.

"A good hour before I was meant to come home too. Que pensaste?" He snarls and you hold your breath. (what were you thinking?)

Shit.

"Aww and gripping this poor blanket for dear life." He says in that teasing tone but you don't have it in you to look at him.

"No me lo esperaba de ti." He whispers and you take a deep breath. (I wasn't expecting this from you)

"P-perdón-" (S-sorry)

"Shh stay quiet..." he whispers and see him going down to his knees out of your peripheral.

"Let me appreciate you in some other way for what you've done for me tonight." He murmurs softly in your ear.

He then brings a hand down between your legs, before placing his hand on top of yours, fingers still buried inside you. Your lip was quivering and you couldn't believe this was happening.

And you're not dreaming.

He then pulls it away only to slip it under your sweats then panties before sliding his fingers between your folds. You whimpered and bucked your hips up, always a needy mess.

"What did I stay? Stay quiet." He coos in your ear, bringing his other hand up to your throat, lightly squeezing.

You finally turn your head to look at him only to smile at him before he leans in to kiss you. You kissed back immediately and he lets go of your throat and instead cups your jaw as you moan into his mouth. He pulls away making you pout, "No hagas que me repita nena." He whispers and you nod. (Don't make me repeat myself baby girl)

"Take your fingers out for me." He whispers and you nod, immediately listening.

You slip your fingers out and take them out between your legs. "Good girl." He murmurs and move his fingers down, teasing your hole with the tip of his finger.

"Miguel- fuck-" you moan then cover your mouth with the blanket again.

"Need more?" He coos and you whimper, nodding.

"Tell me." He whispers and you move your hand away.

"Please- I need you so fucking badly- por favor, te necesito- mmm te necesito tanto Miguel." You plead and he slides his fingers inside you. (Please I need you, I need you so much)

"Feel good huh baby?" He asks and you nod, unable to speak as his fingers start pumping into you fast.

You clamp a hand over your already covered mouth and try your hardest to keep quiet but his fingers filled you up. Two fingers, were able to feel fulfilling inside you.

"Estas tan hermosa mami." He whispers in your ear and you let out a muffled whimper, your walls clenching against his fingers. (You're so beautiful)

He left gentle kisses along your jaw, and neck while pumping his fingers faster and harder. You rolled your eyes back as you kept quiet, or tried to.

You bucked your hips up and tilted your head to the side as Miguel began sucking on your skin, leaving marks then kissing them after. Your walls clenched against your fingers and you could feel that familiarity in your lower abdomen.

"Te vas a quedar bien calladita para mi verdad?" He whispers making you gasp and nod. (You're gonna stay real quiet for me right?)

He starts fucking into you harder and curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet spot of yours with every thrust as you feel your legs begin to shake. Your eyes began to flutter and you tried to keep your eyes open, you wanted to how he'd react to you cumming.

You then feel his thumb rubbing fast circles against your clit which only makes it harder for you to stay quiet. You bit your lips and held all your moans in as your climax hit and your entire body starts to shake. You covered your mouth and breathed heavily as he fucked you slower, moving his thumb away.

You close your eyes and let out heavy pants as he stops and lets his fingers stay inside. "You did so good baby... how's that instead of money?" He whispered and you just gave him a drunken smile unable to have any thoughts.

"Still gonna leave you with both." He coos and kisses your cheek softly.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, then slips them out your juices dripping down and definitely staining your poor panties even more.

He slips his fingers out of your panties and sweats and then brings them up to your mouth which you instantly put into your mouth. You tasted yourself as your eyes fluttered and your breathing finally had calmed down.

You then let go of his fingers with a plop and he leans in, kissing you again but passionately. Tongue in your mouth, also wanting to have a taste of you. After a solid fifteen seconds he pulls away and murmurs, "Thank you for babysitting again. If you want you can stay the night, te ves muy cansada... pobrecita." (you look so tired, poor girl)

[ponyosmom35]

be a solider

simon ghost riley x reader

synopsis: simon loses it after reader is kidnapped.

Link to master list:https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

The truck's tires screamed as Simon floored the gas pedal, but despite the speed, the black car they'd been chasing continued to weave through the city streets, expertly pulling ahead at every turn. Simon's fists clenched against the wheel, his knuckles white as the anxiety and rage bubbled within him. He tried to focus, to think logically, but every time the car in front of them seemed to pull further away, his heart clenched tighter.

"Come on, come on, come on," Simon muttered under his breath, his voice strained with frustration. The adrenaline coursed through him, but it felt like his body was failing him.

"Goddamit!" he growled, his eyes locked on the vehicle ahead. His voice was a low, threatening hiss, barely audible over the engine's roar.

Price didn't respond, his attention focused entirely on the road, but Price could see the same anxiety on Simon's face. They couldn't lose her—not after everything.

But it wasn't long before the car in front of them made a sharp turn, disappearing into an alleyway. The sound of screeching tires was deafening, the harsh turns rattling their bones, but Simon's gaze never left the road.

Then, without warning, the car they were chasing took a sharp turn and disappeared from view, vanishing down a narrow street. When they finally reached the spot, it was empty.

"Fuck!" Simon muttered, his voice low and hollow. He slammed his fist into the wheel, making the truck shudder under the impact. His breathing grew ragged as the anger swelled within him, his thoughts spiraling.

"We lost them. We fucking lost them," he hissed.

His fingers were still gripping the steering wheel, his pulse racing in his ears as he tried to steady himself. Soap and Gaz were silent in the back, knowing that Simon wasn't just angry—he was losing control.

"They're gonna torture her, Soap," Simon said, his voice sharp with dread, and the words landed heavy in the truck. "They're gonna make her talk. They'll get everything—every goddamn detail on the team. They'll break her for info on us."

The others remained silent. They knew Simon was right. He wasn't wrong—if they had her, she'd be a prime target for interrogation. They had no way of knowing how long she could hold out.

Simon's face twisted with the enormity of the thought. The crushing, horrible thought of her—his girl—being tortured, having everything taken from her, and there was nothing he could do. His entire world was crashing down around him, and the fear consumed him.

Price watched Simon in the rearview mirror for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight. The old soldier inside him wanted to bark orders, to snap Simon out of it. But Price had seen this before, had been in those moments when the weight of failure was too much to bear.

The truck came to a screeching halt, and before Simon could do anything else, he shoved open the door and stumbled out into the street, barely able to keep his legs steady. His stomach twisted painfully, the bile rising in his throat, and he ran to the side of the truck, leaning over and retching into the gutter. The world spun around him, the panic rising until it felt like the walls were closing in.

He sank to his knees, his hands gripping the sides of his head, trying to pull himself together, but it felt impossible. Every breath felt like it was suffocating him, and the sound of her cries, her scream, kept replaying in his mind like a broken record.

Price was beside him before Simon even knew it, his large hand on his shoulder, grounding him. "Simon," he said firmly, his voice unwavering. "You're a soldier. And right now, you need to bring Ghost back. You need to be a soldier and get her back. Suck it the fuck up and let's go save your woman!"

Simon's breathing was shallow as he looked up at Price, his chest heaving with the weight of everything he couldn't control. But the words, they settled into his mind, pushing through the panic. Soldier. He was a soldier. He couldn't let himself crumble now—not when she needed him the most.

He gripped the side of the truck, pushing himself up slowly, forcing himself to stand. His whole body felt weak, his legs shaky, but his resolve was hardening, piece by piece. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his face pale but determined.

"We've got the Avery warehouse," Price continued, his voice steady. "We know it's theirs, and it's the closest to the city, no question that's where they're headed. We go in—Soap and Gaz through the back, and you and I in the front. We find her and bring her home."

Simon's eyes flickered toward Price, and without another word, he nodded. His body was still trembling, but the focus was coming back. The mission.

Price clapped him on the back, hard enough to rattle his bones. Without a word more, Simon climbed into the truck. Price took the wheel, and without hesitation, slammed his foot down on the pedal. The truck roared to life, speeding down the streets with renewed urgency.

Simon leaned back in the seat, trying to steady his breathing, his mind already racing toward the next step. They had a location. They had a chance.

And this time, he wasn't going to let anything slip through his fingers. He wouldn't fail her again.

[shiratamahatsumiyo]

TWST with Blood Mage reader (Part 2)

I didn't know I reached a hundred followers. Thank you so much, guys!

Warning: Gore and Slight Language

• Everyone in the room waited in anticipation for the Dark Mirror's statement in hopes of finally ending the ceremony, But the mirror did not respond. The mirror's stoic face suddenly expressed fear and a judgemental expression seconds later. The mirror then replied...

Dark Mirror: "...This soul... Does not belong in any of the dorms."

• The crowd in the room gasped in shock and loud whispers filled the room. Crowley stuttered in confusion and asked the mirror for the reason.

Dark Mirror: "...They have a powerful yet fearful magic that exceeds the average young student... Their flow of magic power fluctuates in every vein, bone, flesh... Too difficult to discern the difference between physical and magical strength..."

Crowley: "I-i do not understand, I... Is what you are trying to say is that they are... Dangerous?"

Dark Mirror: "... That may be. But they are also gifted in an art form of magic that not a single student can master..."

Crowley: "I-i see. Well... BloodMage! Yuu, was it?"

BloodMage! Yuu: "Yes?"

Crowley: "What kind of mage are you?"

BloodMage: "...I don't know myself."

Dark Mirror: "There is still room for improvement... They must learn to harness that magic... To control it... Until then, they cannot be placed in any dorm."

• With that said, the mirror's face disappeared. The students in cloaks stared at you in disbelief and stepped away from you. The way they are cautious is not new to you. They are always scared...

Crowley: "Oh! Woe is me, woe is me! What do I do? In all experience of being headmaster, I have never thought I'd encounter this kind of problem... Sh-should I send them back?"

Grim, escaping: "Fnyagh! If you're not gonna take 'em, then take me instead!"

Crowley: "What the-- Stop, raccoon! You shall not escape!"

Grim: "The Great Grim's ain't a raccoon! And I got magic much more powerful than that guy! Just watch me!"

• The little monster escaped from Crowley's lash and floated in the middle of the room. He puffed up his furry chest to inhale some air and blew enormous blue flames. All the students ran to evade his attack, some ran towards safety, others pull out of their magical pens. The fighting students struggle to contain him as Grim levitated from corner to another one.

Crowley: "SOMEBODY CATCH THAT MONSTER!"

????: "Aren't you the headmage?"

?????: "...Ugh, how troublesome..."

???: "Stop with your complaining. You know you can end this yourself. Doesn't that thing look like a nice plump snack?"

?????: "Nah, too much work."

????: "Headmaster Crowley, do not worry. You can count on me to capture it. Without hurting the poor thing, of course!"

????: "That's Azul for you. Always showing off and always reaping the plus points."

• While the so-called powerful students (you assumed) bicker with each other, you see the boy with tan skin and silver hair struggling to avoid Grim's attacks and tripped. Before Grim could breathe out another barrage of flames, you quickly stood in front of the boy and shield him from the fire... Besides, you need to use your magic anyway.

BloodMage! Yuu: "...Are you alright?"

?????: *cough*, *cough* "Y-yeah, I think so..."

BloodMage! Yuu: "Good. You need to get up."

?????: "Right. Thanks a lot for...for........ W-W-W -WHAAAaa!!"

• The boy paused mid-sentence as he took your hand to get up, only to feel... Something wet and boney? He looked up in horror to see flesh clinging to whatever's left of your right arm. Blood dripping down from your upper torso, showing your now scorched left shoulder its inner muscles and veins.

• The boy screamed in terror, drawing attention from bystanders and running students. Everything seemed to freeze in motion as they witness the gore that you displayed. The monster even stopped his ruckus to look at what he's done. Some students fainted, some ran to get the infirmary ghosts, some holding their vomit in disgust at your exposed bloody burnt skin which the ceremonial robes can no longer hide.

???: "G-GREAT SEVENS!"

???: "AAAAAHHHH!!!"

???: "CALL THE INFIRMARY GHOSTS NOW!"

???: "THEY'RE DYING!"

???: "EVERYTHINGISFINEEVERYTHINGISFINEEVERYTHINGISFINE"

???: "DON'T LOOK HERE!"

???: "I WANNA GO HOME!"

???: "CAPTURE THAT MONSTER IMMEDIATELY! HE KILLED SOMEONE!"

Grim: ".....W...What have I done..... Th-this isn't supposed to happen.... No no no........."

BloodMage! Yuu: ".......Cell Siphon."

Grim: "I-i-it was an accident--... F-FNYAGH!?"

• Now that you have access to your blood magic, you use your blood cells to cast a spell, Cell Siphon, on Grim. The monster is suddenly put in a trance as the blood in his tiny body forces him to come closer to you. Finally, your puddle of blood starts to levitate around you and formed into a makeshift cage for Grim.

BloodMage! Yuu: "Huh... That was easy."

• You were expecting Grim to fight back but the fiery feline only sit there in the cage with his ears drooped down, and his eyes not meeting yours. You approach the headmage and handed him the cage. The headmage's mouth is agape and his wide eyes kept looking at you and back to the cage, trying to piece together what the fuck just happened. You assume that everyone else is also holding the same expression.

?????: "I apologize Headmaster, but I'm afraid Malleus Draconian has forgotten to-- OH MY FUCKING SEVENS."

• The short fae entered the room, not expecting to see scorched walls, everyone standing in shock, and you looking at him like you didn't mind the melted flesh and eyeball still dangling from your face.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜' ⟡ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'. your first day goes very poorly . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 5.1k

⟢ warnings: there is talk about the reader's previous hostile home environment, although it's not pictured. walburga black is implied to be mentally unstable. a theme here is the lasting impact growing up in that environment has on a person: reader fears becoming like her parents, longs for a more loving environment, doesn't handle her emotions very well, and picks fights. both anger and sadness are dealt with unhealthily by different characters. if there is anything i should add here, please please let me know.

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: well! yikes! angst! i'm not sure i like the vision but i’m trying to remind myself this is a hobby and doesn’t have to be perfect <3

“A walk?” You questioned with a raspy voice.

“Mhm,” James nodded, “Just around the yard. Think it’ll help you feel better.”

You let James lead you to the back door, hand and hand. When he opened it, you discovered that “yard” was a bit of an understatement. The Potters’ property was larger than you knew— enormous, really. Lush garden beds thrived nearest to the house, and the grassy green beyond was surely where James practiced quidditch over the summers. The large trees scattered around the outskirts of the property made you picture a younger James climbing them.

James led you into the grassy landscape, taking notice of your awestricken expression as your eyes fall on Euphemia’s garden.

“I knew you’d like it out here.”

“It’s beautiful,” you mused, stopping to admire a bed of flowers. James dipped down and plucked one from the ground.

He fit it behind your ear and winked, “Don’t tell my mum.”

You frowned, reaching up to remove the flower from your hair. You twirled it inbetween your fingers.

“Your mum must think so poorly of me now,” you muttered, staring down at the flower.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“The first thing Sirius and I did after we were invited to stay is have a screaming match in the dining room. We sure know how to make ourselves feel at home,” you laughed bitterly. “And now she knows we’re together. Didn’t even get to properly tell her. I can’t imagine what she thinks of me.”

“Hey, look at me.” James said in a stern but gentle voice. You wonder how all the Potters can sound so kind even when they’re working up to a lecture.

You peered up through your eyelashes. James sported a pretty smile, and that alone made you feel a little better.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he said, “My mum’s not one to jump to any conclusions. She trusts me, alright? And don't worry about your fight with Sirius. No one's expecting this to be easy for you. For either of you."

James continued, “Besides, we all let our emotions get the best of us sometimes, yeah? We’re human. My parents will understand.”

James could tell you over and over again that it’s okay to be angry and it’s okay to slip up, but you didn’t think any amount of it would ever make it feel okay. You wondered how he could even believe it.

It surprised you, actually, how mature and level-headed James could be. We’re human so it’s just okay if our emotions get the best of us sometimes? Who actually thinks like that?

At your house, you had to be nothing short of perfect at all times. Now that you’ve seen Fleamont and Euphemia in parent mode, you can see where James learned it all. You never had anything like that, and it was difficult to wrap your mind around it.

Especially because it wasn’t too long ago that James was one of Hogwarts’ biggest trouble makers—his pranks were the epitome of immature. Evidently, he's grown up a lot recently.

Stupidly, you felt bitter about it. Which was completely absurd, you thought. Because surely you were not jealous of your boyfriend because he learned how to regulate his emotions better than you did. Because he was growing up, maturing? And you… well you don’t know what you’re doing. You felt stuck, like you’d always be a scared little kid who needs her older brothers’ no matter how old you got.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said, not really knowing what else to say. You were compelled to change the subject, “I’m worried about Regulus.”

“I know,” James began leading you around the garden again. You dropped the flower back where it came from, not wanting to be caught red handed with a freshly murdered flower from Effie’s garden.

“We have to get him out of there,” you sighed.

James looked at you through the corner of his eye. Apprehensively, he said, “From what Sirius told me, you guys barely got out of there.”

“Yeah, so we’ll need a really good plan so that we don’t get caught.”

James turned his head to look straight at you. He looked at you like you had two heads.

“What, you want to break him out or something? You want to go back there?”

“We have to. Regulus–“

“Regulus made his choice.” James interrupted warily.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach, “Please, not you too.”

“You heard what Sirius said. Regulus was given the option, and he chose to stay behind,” James tried to reason.

James knew how much your twin meant to you, it wasn't a surprise that you'd be worried about him. But to go back to that house? That was a step too far for his comfort. The moment that Sirius admitted exactly what his mother had done to him, James knew he'd never let either of you near her again. Something must've snapped in Walburga Black— she has been teetering on the edge for years, but she has unmistakably gone from being a cruel mother to an outright unstable woman.

The though of Regulus still being around her made him sick. Even though James didn't know him that well, he still found himself caring about him. It was likely an extension of your love for Regulus manifesting in James, who cared for you so deeply that your concerns became his. But that's just it— you're the one who he really cared for. Above all else, it's you he wanted to protect.

“He did not choose to stay behind,” you raised your voice, offended that James could ever think so.

“Love...”

James didn't mean to, but he looked at you with pity in his eyes, as if he thought you were in denial.

Anger flared up in your chest when you registered his expression, “No, don’t do that. Just because Sirius said so doesn’t mean it’s true. Regulus wouldn’t just choose them over us. Sirius– he doesn't have his facts straight.”

James didn’t say anything. What could he? It sounded like you were implying that Sirius was lying and James knew Sirius wouldn't do that.

For the record, you didn't think Sirius would lie either. But he was absolutely capable of missing something.

“You don’t believe me,” your mouth hung open after your words.

“It’s not that.” James rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I believe you, but I believe Sirius too. And Sirius said that Regulus refused to come. Whatever the reason, that's the choice he made. I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger for a– a lost cause.”

His words stopped you in your tracks.

“A lost cause?"

You had never been so affronted by James. He might not know Regulus nearly as well as he knows you or Sirius, but the fact that he could easily tag him as a lost cause was unbelievable.

"Don’t be an idiot, James. How could you say that?”

James had kept walking for a couple more paces, so he had to turn to face you. He tried to cover the way the venom in your voice made him flinch.

“You can’t force him to leave,” he said, sounding as understanding as he could muster, but he needed to get through to you.

Phantom alarm bells were ringing in his ears, his desperation for you to hear him growing. You were stubborn and you'd do anything for your brothers, James knows this all to well. But not this. He couldn't let you do this. He wouldn't let you go back there.

“Merlin, you’re siding with Sirius!” you accused, giving in to the anger burning in your chest.

James tried to remain calm as he spoke.

“I’m not siding with anyone.”

“Yes, you are! How could I be so stupid? Of course you’d choose Sirius over me!"

James features twist in anguish, "Love–"

"This is what I get for falling for my brother’s best friend. When there's a choice, it will always be him, won’t it?” You spat, glaring at James in a way that almost knocked him off his feet.

He was completely taken aback; you two had never fought like this. He tried to take some semblance of control over the situation, “Okay, you’re angry right now, and that’s okay–“

“Oh, would you stop that!” you shouted. A small part of you hoped the sound wouldn’t travel back to the house, but a bigger part of you was consumed with a growing rage. That part didn’t seem to care.

“Stop what?” James knitted his brows.

“Being some master of emotions all of a sudden! I’m accusing you of picking Sirius over me! I’m raising my voice at you! I’m calling you names! Why won’t you fight back? Yell at me, do something!”

James took a deep breath, “I’m not going to do that.”

He sounded completely calm and collected. Somehow, that pissed you off.

“Oh, you’re so perfect, aren’t you?”

“What?” James felt like he was going crazy, unable to decipher what he could possibly be doing wrong.

“Perfect James Potter, wouldn’t hurt a fly these days! You could never–! never lose your cool, could you?” you shouted.

James gaped at you. He couldn't be mad even if we wanted to; he was just confused. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? You yourself didn’t even seem to know what you were saying, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you said things even you knew weren’t true.

It’s not like James never lost the reign on his emotions. He throws his quidditch gear around when he loses a match, he can’t control his frustration when he doesn’t do well in class, he isolates himself when he’s sad instead facing it, he does a whole lot of things that he’s not proud of.

And you’ve seen it all before, but for some reason, you’ve chosen not to remember those moments. All you can think about is how you were so angry and scared, and he was so understanding and level-headed. And how you grew up with screaming matches and unfair punishments, and he probably got to grow up with calm discussions and soft spoken apologies. And it all felt so unfair.

“Are you–? Sorry, you're mad at me because I'm not getting mad at you? I’m sorry, I guess?”

“I don’t want you to be sorry I want you to yell at me! Be mad at me, fight with me!” You felt the familiar sensation of tears welling up in your eyes.

James looked shellshocked. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to deal with you like this, he’s never seen this before. Sure, sometimes you bicker— all couples do— but this was reaching an uncharted territory.

"I'm not going to yell at you for wanting to keep your brother safe–"

"Then yell at me because you think I'm naive for thinking I can get him out of there. Fight with me because I think you're an idiot for thinking Regulus is a lost cause!"

You were trying to rile him up, James knew this, and he so badly wanted to not let if affect him. Not because it was making him angry, no, it was making him sad.

But he couldn't fight it.

And James always does the same thing when he's sad.

“I think we need to take a step back from this conversation. Why don’t we go inside?” James offered.

He sounded like he stole that line from some therapist's book on navigating conflict. It made you want to scream.

“You go inside! I’m going to keep walking.” You pushed past him, deliberately letting your shoulder collide with his as you stormed away.

James let the blow knock him back a step, too thrown off to do anything else. He listened to your receding footsteps and he wanted to be the type of boyfriend who runs after you when you’re upset. Who holds you and listens to you until you can work out the problem. Instead—

“Just stay by the house, okay?” he called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, whatever.”

A few hot angry tears slid down your face. You aggressively wiped them away and willed any more tears to dry up. You were tired of crying.

You stomped around the gardens and grass, thinking of Regulus and how he deserved better than siblings who left him behind to find refuge with a boy who wouldn't think twice about rescuing him too.

Leaving that house was something you'd always dreamed of. But you had imagined both of your brothers by your side. No one was ever supposed to be abandoned.

Sirius just didn’t understand how horrible being alone in that house was. You and Regulus had already experienced a taste of it when he went off to Hogwarts a year before you two. Not to mention, Sirius was always the strongest of you, so without him, navigating that house was a whole new terrain.

Maybe that’s what Sirius senses is different about your relationship with Regulus. Those nine months were probably the worst of your life, and Reg is who you went through them with.

And maybe that's why you were so adamant that Regulus can’t be left there alone while everyone else seems ready to abandon all hope. Your parents had never been more furious than when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor all those years ago. You suspected that they would be worse, angrier than ever after the departure Sirius orchestrated for you and him. You couldn’t let Regulus face that alone.

Somewhere along the line, worry for Regulus took precedence over the anger that held your gentle love for James hostage. By the time you came to a large trees on the outskirts of the lawn, the anger from the previous argument had simmered.

As you plopped down in the dirt and sat against its trunk, you tried not to be annoyed that taking a step away from that conversation really worked.

You took in your surroundings to distract yourself. It was to no avail, as a nearby shed caught your eye. Through its open window, you could see James’ broom and other quidditch gear.

“You idiot,” you chastised yourself aloud. You let your head fall into your hands as a million nasty thoughts about yourself raced through your mind, the most prominent being you’re just like your mother.

It was just like her to pick fights. You couldn’t breathe in that house without her telling you that you were doing it wrong. She always found something to yell at you for.

How could I act like that, you winced as you recalled the fight you just walked away from.

Poor James, who you yelled at for not being mad at you. It really was just like her to get upset over something so irrational. You felt ill over the similarity, and you were overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom.

You couldn't let yourself be doomed to your parents' fate. You wanted to be kind, reasonable, rational. So, what wouldn't they do in this situation?

A safe assumption would be that they wouldn't feel bad, so you're already on the right track it seems.

They also wouldn't apologize.

Okay, yeah. Apologize. You could apologize.

You have to apologize.

Just go apologize.

But you just couldn’t get yourself to move. You were frozen in shame for your behavior, the only movement was the rise and fall of your chest from your labored breath.

James Potter did not like feeling sad. It was unsettling, uncomfortable, so utterly unlike him.

Whenever it happened, he tried to hide from it. He'd lock himself away somewhere before he'd dare face it head on— or admit that it's there at all.

The last time he was sad, he let himself fall asleep in the common room just so he wouldn't have to face his friends back at his dorm. And when his childhood pet died, he didn't mention it for months, only alerting his friends to his cat's passing when Peter asked how old his cat was again.

It's not that James thought there was anything wrong with being sad. He definitely didn't believe in any of that nonsense that real men don't cry. In fact, he was always the first to offer his shoulder if any of his friends were upset, back pats and let-it-all-outs at the ready.

But when it was him, when he was the one with the lump in his throat and a pit in his stomach, he couldn't handle sadness anymore. It made him feel vulnerable, and he wanted to be the strong one, the brave one. The one who lights up a room with the force of the sun and brings humor and fun into everyone's days.

So, when he couldn't be that, he'd rather be alone. He'd rather sit isolated in a dimly lit room where the darkness can't touch anyone but himself.

His bed creaked under his weight as he shifted in place, the only movement he has made in several minutes.

He was trying to be still and let his mind focus on nothing but his breathing. He was especially trying not to think of your argument.

He counted out his inhales and exhales, just as he had learned years ago in divination class.

James took divination for one year only. It wasn't for him, but one thing from that class did stick with him— the lesson on mindfulness. Something about mediation and a clear head opening your mind to frequencies you may not normally be able to comprehend.

James wasn't sure about all that, but he quite liked the calmness of the exercise they did in class that day, even if he felt a bit silly doing it.

He finds himself repeating the meditation from that class when he's down. He much prefers a clear head to one with racing thoughts that give him that choked up feeling in his throat.

He was broken out of his feeble attempt at a meditative state when there was a knock at his door.

Hope swelled in his stomach. Maybe you've come to talk. Maybe he could smooth things over with you. And then he could stop feeling like this.

He tried not to look disappointed when Sirius walked through the door.

Sirius gave James a once over as the door clicked shut behind him, "What's wrong with you?"

"Me?" James forced a chuckle, "Nothing's wrong with me."

"You're sitting at the foot of your bed, starin' at the floor, shoulders slumped," Sirius' hand swept towards James' hunched form, "I know what upset looks like, Prongs."

"I'm not upset," James insisted still, "I'm just thinking. Is being lost in thought a crime these days?"

Sirius shrugged, plopping down on the bed next to James. His legs hung over the edge as he let his back hit the sheets, his arms sprawled at his sides.

James listened as Sirius puffed out a long, exhausted breath.

"You alright?" James asked, not bothering to look back, letting his sad eyes remain fixed on the floor.

"Ah, I see. Worried about me, are you?" Sirius guessed.

James seized the opportunity to excuse his demeanor. Besides, he wanted to talk about what Sirius had said earlier anyway.

"You did have a pretty nasty spat with your sister. And then you nearly collapsed."

There's a lull in the conversation for a moment as Sirius thinks.

"Your parents fixed me right up again. Gave me some nasty potion to help with the dizziness. Tasted like sewage but 'm good as new. They're off now, by the way, picking up some herbs they want to steep and feed me for these spasms I keep having in my hands."

James winced. Spasms, a potential side effect of being under the Cruciatus Curse.

"Sirius... about what you said happened. Your mother–"

"I don't want to talk about that," Sirius spoke quietly, somberly.

After a moment, Sirius added, "I don't want to think about any of them ever again."

James felt a pang in his heart, knowing Regulus was included in 'them'. You wouldn't have stood for it if you'd heard Sirius say that.

James' mind wanders back to your earlier argument, his earlier attempts to avoid these thoughts futile now. You were so adamant that you needed to go back for Regulus, ready to dive into some sort of escape plan, and that still scared the hell out of James.

He considered telling Sirius about what you wanted to do. One on hand, he knew Sirius would be on board with keeping you the hell away from there— keeping you safe. On the other hand, it felt like tattling on you to your brother.

James thought about the betrayal written across your face earlier. How hurt you were when you suspected James was choosing to believe Sirius over you. Confiding in Sirius now would surely, surely make it worse. And James didn't want to hurt you.

And yet—

"Thing is... I have to talk to you about something. About your sister... and about Regulus."

A flinch finally broke you out of your statue-like state when a sudden and distinct fluttering sounded above you. You expected to see any mundane bird when you looked up, but there was nothing there. You leaned around the tree to try to locate the source.

Instead of any random creature of flight, it was a familiar owl. And he was not in the tree, rather next to it, in a designated perch located on the other side of the thick trunk.

"Oh. Hello," you greeted the owl. He stared at you blankly, of course.

You've met this owl before. His name was Glory. You didn't know why, but James had named him, and you supposed that it was a name that James would have thought of.

You've received countless letters from James, all delivered by Glory. There were the long ones, which you mostly received during the times you were apart. Glory was good at discretely delivering them to your window. And if James also had mail for Sirius, he knew to deliver yours first.

James was always checking up on you over the holidays, making sure you were okay and telling you stories of his own time at home that would take your mind off of whatever horrible things were going on at Grimmauld Place.

When you were together, back at Hogwarts, James still sent you little notes whenever you weren't near. He knew how much you loved receiving notes from him, so he made it a habit. He would send notes about things he saw that reminded him of you, expressions of how much he missed you even if he'd seen you mere hours prior, declarations of love that he couldn't keep inside until the next time he'd be alone with you.

Oh, your sweet boy.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" You asked Glory. You chided yourself for continuing to try to talk to an owl. Not that owls weren’t smart. In fact, they were very intelligent, especially the magical sort. Glory could understand you, but it’s not like he had the ability to respond. 

You imagined that Glory would tell you that you messed up big time if he did, though.

You pushed yourself up to your feet, wiping dirt and twigs off your pants when you rose. As you walked back towards the house, you wondered if your mother ever felt sorry like this, if she ever wanted to apologize sometimes. Surely, at some point she did. James' words come back to you about how we're all human, and you want to believe that maybe there was a memory lost in your mind of her apologizing to you.

You'd have been a wide-eyed little kid at the time, snot-nosed and teary-eyed after she yelled at you for spilling milk or leaving a toy in the middle of the floor. She'd wrap her arms around you and apologize for raising her voice. Then she'd shush and coo soothingly until your tears dried up and you could show her all of your baby teeth in a wide grin.

It was unnatural, the image of her in your mind like that, but your heart burned for it to be real. As sick as it was, you still yearned for your mother's love, even if it was a thing of the past.

Maybe your house really was a poison. Because if she had ever been gentle, one way or another, Walburga Black got colder and harsher over the years. She spiraled so deep into darkness that she seemed to want to be cruel. After all, to cast the Cruciatus Curse, you do have to really want it.

Each step you took was invigorated with a new sense of determination. Apologizing to James now, owning up to your mistake, it was only the first step of doing everything in your power to never be anything like that woman.

It felt like no time passed at all by the time you arrived outside of James' door. You didn't feel ready to face him, but you raised your fist anyway. Just when knuckles were about to meet wood, you heard a muffled voice from inside.

"What do you think?" James' voice asked softly. Then, after a beat of silence, "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, James, I heard you," Sirius said. He had that far away kind of tone in his voice he gets when he's trying to distance himself from his emotions.

"And?"

"And I'm bloody tired of talking about him!" Sirius barked. Even from the safety of the other side of the door, you flinched.

"She doesn't get it. She'll never get it because it's him," your brother continued. "If she had known he wasn't coming she probably wouldn't be here either. If it's a choice, it'll be him over me in a heartbeat. He could've done the bloody spell on me himself and she'd still choose him. Merlin, she could've done the bloody spell if he asked her to."

If felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You bit your tongue until you drew blood, fighting the urge to cry out, as if Sirius' words physically wounded you.

Rationally, you knew that Sirius was just angry, that he didn't mean it. But the rational side of your brain hasn't been winning many battles today.

You vaguely heard James tell Sirius not to say things like that as you backed away from his door until you met the wall behind you with a thump.

There was silence from inside James' room for mere seconds before the door was ripped open. Sirius stood in the doorway, James behind him. You couldn't read your brother's expression, there barely was one. How typical of him to hide behind a blank stare.

You, however, were wide eyed with a hand clamped over your mouth, leaning against the wall behind you, sure you'd collapse without its support.

Sirius began to say your name and suddenly your hand was gone and the words were tumbling from your lips.

"How could you say that?" Your voice was strained, "I wouldn't ever do that– He wouldn't ever do that!"

Sirius' eyes bore into yours but he didn't say anything. You wished you could tell what he was thinking under that stupid mask of his.

"I shouldn't have to tell you over and over again that I love you both. You are both my brothers, you both mean the world to me. It's so irrational and– and foolish to worry about a choice that I'd never–"

You cut yourself off. The irony of being so hurt by Sirius' words were not lost on you. You had only just been accusing James of choosing Sirius over yourself.

"No, that's not true," Sirius bit back, "because that choice is upon you now. So, go ahead. Let's see if you can surprise me."

"What?"

"Choose me, stay here where it's safe. Choose Regulus, go right ahead and try to be his jailbreak. But when you can't convince him to leave, when he refuses, I won't be surprised when you choose to stay there too."

Your eyes flashed to James, who looks way too shameful for you to not put two and two together. You were conflicted; feelings of regret over accusing James of choosing Sirius over you were mixing with feelings of betrayal that James had ran right to Sirius with your words.

You'd let the guilt and betrayal sink in and shred you to pieces later. You had Sirius to deal with first.

"What is wrong with you?" you hissed. "How could you be so dim? Wanting our brother to be safe does not mean I'm choosing him over you."

"Color me unsurprised!" Sirius yelled, looking smug.

Your eyes began to burn, "Fuck you, Sirius!"

James tries to interrupt, "Er, hey, maybe we should–"

"Don't you dare tell me we need to take a step back from this conversation, James!"

James' mouth clamped shut.

"Don't yell at him!" Sirius squawks.

"You want to talk about choosing one person over another? Let's talk about it. Don't pretend you haven't given up on Regulus ever since you met his shiny new replacement!"

You'd feel real shitty about saying that in front of James later; the look on his face at your words was already burned into your memory.

"Don't turn this on me!" Sirius shouted.

"You're such a hypocrite. And an imbecile for thinking I care about you any less than Regulus. Of course I care about you both the same. And you may not believe it, but Regulus cares about you too!"

"That's–"

"I don't want to hear it," you interrupted, "I'm done. Say it James."

James looked like a deer in headlights, "What?"

"Say the thing!" you shouted.

"We need to take a step back from this conversation?"

Your arms flew up, gesturing towards James as you stared Sirius down with an exasperated look on your face. Your brother scoffed and stormed down the hall, disappearing to anywhere else in the Potters' home.

For a moment it was just you and James in the hall. Your eyes met and he looked anguished and far too apologetic. You knew that you were supposed to be the apologetic one, and you felt your heart begging you to let the sorrys loose.

It was too bad that the betrayal started settling in before the guilt.

"Sirius was right before. You are a snitch."

With that, you slipped back into your room and let the door slam shut behind you.

James remained in the hall for a moment longer, not knowing who to follow. He should follow one of you.

Instead, he decided to retreat back to his bedroom.

James wanted to be alone again.

[kittyball23]

When you have time could you do a one shot of poppy fan girling over the fact that her bf is in two famous boy bands? I wish the movie gave a little more of it focused on him because the adoration is so cute to me.

Yes, here it is! :D

Surprise (a Trolls fanfic)

“Hey, Branch? It’s almost showtime, I was just thinking that maybe we could…”

The Pop Queen cut off her own question with an enormous gasp.

“WHHHHHAAAAAAT?!?!”

It was simply impossible for her to believe the sight in front of her. Granted, she knew some of what she would find when she ventured backstage to find her boyfriend. She knew of his brothers, and of how they were the sensational boyband known as BroZone. But what she did not at all anticipate were the four other Trolls who made up the other insanely popular boyband that there had been back in the day. 

And, recalling that that band had had five members - and seeing that her boyfriend was costumed to the same chic style they were wearing at that moment - it suddenly all made sense in a whirlwind of revelation.

“Kismet?” she exclaimed in a squeak, pointing a shaky hand at Branch. “You were in BroZone AND Kismet? And you… didn’t… tell me?!” She shot her gaze at the brothers. “Guys, did you know about this?”

They hurriedly denied.

“I’m just as surprised as you are, Pops,” John Dory admitted.

“Not a clue,” Bruce answered.

“Nope,” Clay said, putting his hands up and taking a couple steps back, while Floyd replied with a mystified “Uh-uh,” and a small shake of his head.

At this point, Poppy wasn’t even sure how she was still able to keep standing there - she was trembling so much from the excitement building up inside of her, she was just about ready to collapse!

Branch himself shrugged, keeping collected. “Surprise,” he chuckled.

Poppy couldn’t help herself anymore. Forgetting about everything but being filled with happiness - and not being able to coherently form any other sentences - she rushed forward and threw her arms around Branch’s neck, screaming in delight. Then, she rushed to hug each of his friends, taking Hype, Ablaze, Boom, and Trickee off guard with her uncontained enthusiasm and bone-crushing embrace. And then still, she leapt over towards JD, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd, hugging them for good measure, too!

Hype shook his blue head with a smirk. "Well, that's some girl you got there, Branch!" he exclaimed.

"And this is some sneaky secret-keeping boyband-extraordinaire boyfriend I've got!!" Poppy shouted, finding her voice again and nearly dizzying all nine men with all her jumping up-and-down on the spot. And now that she was speaking again, she couldn’t seem to stop! The words tumbled out of her a hundred miles a minute.

“This is incredible! I really really REALLY can’t believe this! I’m so excited I could SCREAM! I think I will scream! AAAIIYYIII!!! Okay, okay, I’m done now. No, just kidding, I’m actually not. AHGHGH! I’m not gonna be over this for, like, a SUPER long time! I, like, REALLY need all of your autographs, too. Ooo! And a picture! Well, more like a dozen pictures with you guys. And then I’m gonna need copies! And then copies of the copies!! And… and… would it be weird if I fainted right now? Because I totally feel like I’m gonna faint right now, hehe!”

And she did. Expended, she keeled over with that ear-to-ear smile still plastered on her face. Branch caught her right before she fell to the ground, and carried her in his arms.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said to his friends and brothers, smirking at the Pop Queen. “I’m gonna get her situated in the front row. Then we can get this show rolling, alright?”

And that’s just what he did, leaving Kismet and BroZone to themselves.

Both boybands looked at each other awkwardly, not sure what to say to each other. At least, until Floyd broke the ice, smiling politely.

“So… how did you guys meet Branch?”

[eggtartz]

✧ 1st October ✧

All Might // Big Boy (f! civilian reader)

kinktober masterlist

warnings : belly bulge, petnames, creampie, size kink

no matter in which form toshinori, his height and his size in general would always win againts you. despite being a plump one, your height isn't really helping (or it's just the fact that toshinori is almost seven foot tall) you couldn't compete toshinori in any way but the older man developed a kink over the state.

how he adores your hands in his big ones, your still small hands although he's in his skinny form. how you would struggle to reach out to kiss him, toshinori having to bend over every single time. how he loves the height difference and how it's obviously too.

how he enjoys how you struggle to take him during sex, how you need a lot of prep before having him inside because once he was too hasty and ended up hurting you. lube is a must, your juices are simply not enough for someone his size. it started as an observation, how small you looked while being under and soon he realized that's the exact thing that gets him busting a nut inside you.

it was an exhausting day for both you and toshinori as you two huffed on the couch, your body spread wide on his lap. "toshii..." you whined, pawing his hero costume that got his attention. he smiled knowingly, unzipping the suit for you two to share warmth and comfort. you hummed as your small hands rested on his enormous peck. he was content with how comfortable this routine felt, a quiet one after hustle and bustle of the day. however the content quickly turned into something else when he looks down and see how dainty you were. so small, fragile.

he stifled a groan when you accidently grind on his clothed cock, earning a small giggle. "y/n.. if you keep doing that, im gonna-" he let out a growl when he felt your hips grinding down, he almost came. He lifted your body with ease and placed you on his shoulder, slapping your butt as you yelped. "wanna get fucked so bad?" he asked dangerously and your cheeks were warm as you nodded.

he roughly dumps you on your shared bed "stick your dirty fingers in that pussy, i want it wet and prepped, you hear me?" he holds your chin to look up at him earning a nod. you hastily took off your pencil skirt while he teased you by slowly undoing his, making you whine as you plunged your fingers into your already soaking pussy. you used two fingers and whined again "toshinori, its not enough, need you to do it" he smiled, his top already off. "your fingers are not big enough, darling?" he purred "n-no.. yours are much bigger.. need it.."

"if you say so"

he was quick to place two fingers inside to stretch your gummy walls earning a wanton moan from your lips, his hands grabbing two tits in one hand that showcased how big his hands are. he whispers sweet praises into your ear that went his fingers went to flicked your clit, you were already having an orgasm

"my sweet girl. you think you can handle more?" he asked gently, nudging the mushroom of his cockhead at your salivating pussy. "yes please..." you asked oh so sweetly, he'd be a horrible person to decline.

He inserted slowly, enjoying how your small body clung on him as you scratched his back with pleasure. making small thrusts, he took one boob in his mouth as you squeezed your eyes tight "ah.. so... bignnh" you slurred as his tongue lapped on your nipple "but you can take it right? take everything, sweetheart" you panted as he kept pushing inside, venturing to places so deep inside you. your breathing hitched when you finally felt his hip and his balls against your ass. "toshi,, please.., fuck m-" you screamed as he thrusted violently as he panted "damn it.. so tight," he muttered under his breath as you moaned his name. "gotta make sure i fuck you daily, get this hole loose" he grunted as he pressed you down the bed. he easily lifts you as you lay sideways and uses your arms as levers to thrust in deeper. "o-oh.. fuck.." you were getting dizzier as he thrusts with force and nibbles on your earlobe. "i'm gonna cum.. fuck, fucking look at you.. so pretty, so small. fuck!" cum spurted inside you as you lay down feeling already full.

"you didn't think we're finished did you?"

how delicious it is seeing the slight bulge of his cock inside of your stomach makes him groan at how small you are compared to him, so small and vulnerable. so easy to just toss you around and use like a doll. "yeah.. one more.." he coaxed you into another orgasm, you were drooling on the bed sheets "t-toshi.. so full.." you mumbled, feeling stuffed and filled to the brim with how much he has came inside you.

he pulls you up, his chest on your back as he used your arms as support, thrusting inside you in a slow and sensual pace "shit.." his american accent came out "you feel too good, darling.. need to fill you everyday, would you want that?" he whispered againts your ear as you moaned, feeling lightheaded and full of pleasure. "yes.. everyday.. mmh.." your tits bounced as sweat and saliva coated your skin and his. he groaned again and came with a shiver, thrusting his cum slowly into your weeping pussy. you collapsed on the body and twitched, cum oozing out frok your exhausted pussy.

again, toshinori is fascinated to see such a small body is able to keep in so much cum.

[seokgyuu]

Adult actor!Jihoon who fucks you so hard on camera, it leaves you wanting more long after your scene together. Hehe. 💕💕😮‍💨

a/n: well hello there nana!!! thank you sm for this request, it was a lot of fun to write, hehe. I tried to care a bit less about plot with this one to see how i feel about it and i actually like the way this turned out, so i hope you enjoy to <3 ily!!

PAIRING: PornStar!Jihoon(Woozi) x PornStar!Reader

GENRE: Smut, MDNI!

WARNINGS: no pronouns but female anatomy described, penetrative unprotected sex (loads of it), mentions of tit fucking and squirting, degradation (usage of the words: whore and slut), multiple orgasms, begging, dirty talk

WORDCOUNT: 1.1k

Smut after the cut!

The cameras had already left, just like the people who operated them. The light crew had long ago packed everything up and the director had yelled cut ages ago.

Yet the squeaking of the cheap bed was still echoing through the room, accompanied by your endless cries and moans, your whimpers and screams and Jihoon loved every second of it. He was on top of you, probably for the fifth time in three hours. Before, you had been filming your new piece: a cheap motel for which the slutty student sadly couldn’t pay and so the owner took it upon himself to offer them another way to pay for his generosity to let them stay. It had started with you sucking his enormous cock, your eyes so wide and innocent when you saw it, your mouth looking oh-so good around his length. Then, he had taken it upon himself to fuck your tits, leaving a trail of cum before moving to the next position that was you on top of him. Both of you had taken a few breaks between takes, had eaten and gotten a glass of water. Exhaustion came easy with the job. 

To make a long story short, after several takes that had your cunt dripping for him, your orgasms coming more often than they didn’t, your cum already all over his abdomen, his cock, his thighs, the sheets, you still weren’t done with him, still weren’t ready to let go off him and his perfect cock. So, now you were on your back, your legs hanging over Jihoon’s shoulders as he fucked into you at drastic speed.

“Ngh- J-Jihoon! G-Gonna cum!” You cried out, actual tears running over your face and when Jihoon pressed his thumb onto your soaked, overstimulated clit, your legs straightened up into the air, toes curled. You honestly had lost count of the orgasms this man had brought you tonight. 

“Such a needy little whore, are you finally satisfied or do I need to fuck your pussy a little longer?” Jihoon’s words made your already pulsating pussy throb even harder, a sob  leaving you as you shook your head, back arching.

“M-More, want you to fill me up, please!”

Jihoon chuckled at your plea, having already expected this answer. The perks of being a trained adult film actor was the ability to cum many times in one night, his orgasms maybe not being as intense over time, but still giving you what you want: his cum. He leaned forward, his cock hitting your sweet spot like it had so many times before and his hand wandered to your sweaty and cum stained tits, squeezing them hard as he picked up the pace once more. He felt the way your cunt clenched around him, how even in its exhausted state it wanted to milk him for all he had.

“Fuck, your insatiable, aren’t you? How many times have I filled up your slutty cunt by now, hm? And you still don’t have enough?” His hips drilled into yours, your eyes rolled back into your skull, back arched against his touch, mouth hanging open as you moaned loudly, just the way Jihoon liked it. He licked his lips, watching the way your body reacted to his thrusts, to his words. You whimpered when you felt him press down on your nipple, when you felt him pinch into it.

“Can never get e-enough of your cum, Ji!” Your words made his cock twitch, leaking inside you as he groaned, leaning forward even more to bury his head into your neck, sucking on the salty skin. Your hands found the back of his neck then, nails digging into his skin, your legs still over his shoulders and now also over your head and silently you thanked yourself for the endless yoga classes to become more flexible for the job.

Jihoon’s groans caused your blood to pump harder, your back to arch higher and your nails to dig deeper, everything about his sounds making you want to keep going forever.

But when he moved back down, thumb pressing on your abused clit, there wasn’t much you could do besides coming for the nth time that night. Your body spasmed, high pitched, uncontrollable pleas of his name escaping you as your hips moved quicker against his, your pulsating pussy finally bringing him over the edge too - his cum shooting right into your already filled cunt. 

“Fuck!” Your voice was strained and your chest was heaving, your arms dropping down onto the bed as Jihoon practically collapsed on top of you. Both of your legs slipped off his shoulders, making small thumb noises as they fell onto the mattress. It took the two of you a while to regain composure, Jihoon still buried inside you. Your eyes were closed and you felt his cum inside of you, felt the warmth of it. You also felt that Jihoon wasn’t exactly shrinking. Your eyelids fluttered open, Jihoon’s head still between your shoulder and neck and as you were about to speak, his hips thrusted and your words turned into a squeak.

“Can’t believe, I fucked you a fucking million times already but my cock just can’t get enough of your pussy, shit.” Jihoon’s hips moved frantically now, your eyes rolling back as your pussy sucked him in once more, your body flat on the bed, as he had his way with you, fucking into your spent hole.

“J-Jihoon, pl-please-,” at this point you weren’t even sure what you were begging for anymore. Another orgasm? For him to use you? 

“Just one more, baby, fuck, just need to fill you up one more time, alright? Your cunt is just too good, so fucking good.”

His tongue lapped at your neck, shivers running down your spine as you nodded, hands now moving to his back, nails digging into it. There were already a few very visible marks left by your nails on his back and you didn’t think it’d matter if there were a few more added to the canvas. Jihoon’s heavy breath hit your skin over and over again as he fucked into you, no sense of control, only urgency. His cock was hurting from how hard he still was and how much he needed the final blow and when he felt your pussy squeeze him hard, he moaned your name, cock twitching repeatedly.

“Cum for me, Ji, please, fuck, need your cum so bad!” 

Your voice was what got him over the final edge, the real finale edge this time. Cum shot out of his cock, warming your walls and painting them in a pretty white, your pussy overflowing with his juices and now he finally began to soften. 

“Holy fucking hell.” Jihoon pulled out of you, instead plopping onto his back next to you. Both of you were drenched in sweat and bodily fluids, his and your release now dripping out of your core and onto the already dirty sheets. 

“Too bad there weren’t any cameras around, people would eat this shit up,” you said, grinning at him. Jihoon chuckled.

“Nah, baby, this was only for our eyes.” 

[genshinwomenontop]

Can you make a cloud retainer x adeptus reader? Like a continuation of the previous fic of yours but Shehe and Ganyu found out soon that their master was pregnant with reader child and want to protect the unborn child

Also keep it spicy if you can

-💜anon

Aww Shenhe and Ganyu's reaction to their master being pregnant 🥹

"Master's child"

☆Prompt: After you impregnated your adeptus wife, Shenhe and Ganyu became very over protective of her and their soon to be little brother/sister.

☆Warnings: G!P Adeptus Reader, smut, fluff, mother-daughters moment.

"That's it y/n keep hitting that spot ahh~" Xianyun moaned as your enormous cock kept hitting her g-spot. It's been five hours now and you seem to be unable to resist your wife. She looked so beautiful; her legs on your shoulder, her chest and boobs covered with hickies, her hair sprawled out.

You increased your pace, making her eyes roll to the back as her tongue came out, drool leaking out. Xianyun felt her nineth orgasm approaching and without warning, she squirted all over your dick, the force making you groan as you emptied your balls inside her womb. With your Adeptus strength and stamina, you wanted more, however, Xianyun couldn't keep up and you didn't want to break her.

Pulling out your dick, you saw your mixed cum pour out of her and the sight looked truly tempting but you held back, seeing the passed out Xianyun. You cuddled into her side and soon drifted off to sleep.

A few weeks have passed since that steamy night and you've noticed that Xianyun has been avoiding you. It hurt you and left you confused as to why she did that. You even went as far as to ask Shenhe, Ganyu, and Zhongli but didn't find an answer. The only thing left to do was to confront her and that you did. Xianyun and you were seated on Mountain shaper's Mountain. "Well, are you gonna answer me? Why are you avoiding me? If something is bothering you, let me know."

Xianyun sighed and adjusted her glasses. "There has been nothing bothering me but I..." this was the first time you saw her so vulnerable and scared. You gently pulled her into a hug as her eyes widened.

"Something is bothering you, I can tell. Please, what's going in that pretty head of yours? Hmm?"

"One has recently found out that one may be carrying your child." You blinked a few times before your jaw dropped.

"You're pregnant? How? When?"

"It seemed after that night. I wasn't feeling a tad okay, so I asked Moon Carved and Mountain Shaper to help well to basically check if I'm alright. Mountain Carver had felt another presence with us that day, but it wasn't strong. Moon Carver suggested I take a pregnancy test and well... it came back positive." You listened each word attentively, before a smile broke out from your face.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner instead of avoiding me?"

"I was scared. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise, I'm so happy right now. You're carrying my child, my own flesh and Blood."

"Master is pregnant?!" Two voices shouted from behind you making you scream. Xianyun was startled as well.

Shenhe and Ganyu jumped out from behind a rock. "Master is this true?" Shenhe asked as she approached Xianyun who sighed but nodded.

"It is. I'm going to be a mother, well a mother to a third individual," she smiled as she rubbed her belly. Ganyu approached you and pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

"Congratulations you two! Oh this is wonderful! Oh we need to buy baby clothes! What will we name them? I hope it's a girl," the three of you watched as Ganyu freaked out over the unborn baby.

"I think it's a boy," Shenhe replied with a small smile. She felt extremely happy and suddenly pulled Xianyun into a hug. At first, Xianyun was puzzled but then she relaxed and eventually hugged Shenhe back, a bright smile adorning her face. Shenhe reached and pulled Ganyu into the hug and it became a trio hug. Xianyun couldn't stop smiling as she hugged both of her daughters and kissed each one of them on their foreheads.

"We can't forget the father of the baby," Shenhe smiled and both Ganyu and her embraced you as you did to them.

From then on, Ganyu and Shenhe were always buy Xianyun's side. Sometimes it's just Ganyu alone, then Sometimes it's just Shenhe, and even though you were there, they felt the need to protect their master (mother) and their little sibling.

When the baby was born, you watched as Ganyu and Shenhe got excited and it was the first time that Shenhe expressed alot of emotions. The two of them eventually fell asleep, cradling your son in their arms and you knew that, that boy will be extremely spoiled and you couldn't be more glad to have that little family.

[yeeterthek33per]

That's how it's done (Sam Kerr x Reader)

A/n requested

The moment she strikes it, you know it's going in. The curl, the technique, the fact it was struck with such confidence despite being 30 metres out.

It curls perfectly, firing far past Cata Coll's outstretched glove, the net rippling with the full force of Sam's power shot.

1-0 to Australia. And just twenty minutes left of regulation time.

They'd been waiting months to see this, and you had to agree. Of course, it was never an expectation, only a hope and complete and utter faith in Sam and her teammates to take the world cup by storm.

Your screams and cheers are drowned out by the crowd around, the seventy-five thousand or so other people cheering just as loud for the star forward of the Matildas.

You were heartbroken for her when you found out about her calf. She'd called you the night before, tearfully whispering into the phone.

"I'm not gonna get to play for the first two games."

"What, why? What happened?"

"My calf, I got careless, and I tweaked it."

Your heart broke at not being able to be with her, to not be able to comfort her in person.

She held it together well for the others, but you knew it was killing her not being out there on the pitch.

So when she made her comeback, you were elated and more than happy to watch your girl run around on the pitch, free as ever and doing the work she loves the most.

The moment the goal is in, she's off in a run, slamming fist to her chest over the crest. Her teammates follow and when she spots you in the crowd, she takes off quickly towards you.

Her arms wrap around you, and without even questioning it, her lips meet yours hard.

Sam's grinning wide, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she pulls away from you.

"That's how it's fucking done, baby!" You yell out to her as she backs up.

The crowd around you are losing their minds. You hadn't been out to the world yet. It was something you'd both discussed but ultimately left it to finish with the World Cup first, not wanting to deal with the media behind it and any pressure it may add to your relationship.

You watch as she quickly returns to the lineup, but not without one last glance in your direction, a cheeky wink and salute, and one final wave to the crowd.

Of course, it got a little painful to watch her get her legs taken out from under every other minute. You winced every time she hit the turf, and as the ninety-minute mark crept, she had a harder and harder time getting up.

It's in the dying minutes of stoppage time that Spain gets their last and only chance to score. One corner is all it could take. You wait, tensing in your spot on the edge of your seat. The ball is sent in, and as expected, Mackenzie catches it, quickly running and sending a high and far lobbed ball to just end the game with.

What you don't expect is how far. It goes more astray than the Spanish were expecting, and Cata Coll, having moved into the opposing penalty box in hopes of scoring, is too far from her line to defend.

It flys far over the heads of the Spanish. And ricochets into the spanish net?

The looks of disbelief in the Australians' eyes are hysterical, and the celebrations are enormous as they all jump on their equally disbelieving keeper.

Mackenzie Arnold, first keeper to score in a World Cup final.

First ever goal from near the baseline of the opposing team. Your family around you are losing their minds, the crowd can hardly believe it themselves.

The whistle blows, not seconds after the game is reset. The Australians drop to their knees, some jumping up and down, sprinting to the group of their teammates now flooding the field.

They did it. They actually fucking did it. They won it all. At home. They won the fucking World Cup in Australia.

Your shoulders are shaken by several hands as you jump up and down beside Sam's siblings and her nephews.

You watch as Sam just collapses to her knees on the pitch, arms up, hands behind her head in what you assume to be utter relief and elation.

With the weight of the whole country behind them, you don't blame her.

You've seen how hard she works, you know how far she aims, you've been there on the tearful nights, the screaming and crying and release of bottled up emotion and tension from the pressure of the world on her shoulders.

So when she lets go of it all, tears stream down her face as the others scream and yell and cheer and bounce around in excitement, you expect it.

You're thankful she finally can let go of it all.

The stress, the tears, the expectation. It's all done.

The roar of the crowd around is insane. The sound drowning out any remnants of the outside world.

You watch as Sam gets dogpiled on, her teammates landing on her, screaming into her ears after the winning shot she scored. Cheering and yelling for their captain. Mackenzie is eventually yanked into her own pile.

The moment of pride you feel, one you've always felt in the past with Sam, is one of astronomical amounts now. Having the Kerr name splayed across your back, one day, splayed across the line of your marriage certificate and every other important document. Attached to your social media, attached to your name coming from people's mouths.

The green and gold jersey you're wearing has never felt more at home on you than now.

You've never been more proud of your girl for the comeback, the return, the firing up, the moment she achieved what she's been aiming for since she first kicked a soccer ball.

For completing a lifelong dream. Winning a World Cup. You were just along for the ride. And you'd never been happier to do so.

The players finally pull off her, standing up and separating to go about their own celebrations, a few moving to comfort the Spanish players, to which your hearts does break for quire a few of them.

You'd worked as a physio in Barcelona for four years for the FC Barca femini. You knew many of the girls well and as happy as you were for your country and your girlfriend. You were upset for the girls of La Roja too.

Seeing one of your best friends, Alexia, in tears, crouched with her head hung towards the ground, stung quite a bit. You were proud of them for coming this far, for doing it in spite of the asshole on the side of the pitch.

As much as your heart was torn between the two, your girl will forever have your heart first.

You'd met after her stint in Camp Nou for the champions league, and a few times after that when they versed each other. You eventually started dating after a Barca v Chelsea game in England.

Two years passed, and you made the move to London, taking up a position in a physiotherapy office, which you coincidentally came to find was the one her national teammate worked in while she was in London. Caitlin Foord.

You became fast friends, and now watching your other best friend win her first ever medal at a World Cup was just as ecstatic and elating.

As the celebrations continue, you spot Sam jogging over to the family and friends section. You step aside to let her nephews see her, but she isn't going for them. She strides right up to you instead.

"Baby, I'm so fucking proud of-"

You're cut off with a small squeak.

Her hands grip the collar of the jersey around you and pull you nearly over the barrier and into her. With one final questioning look in her eyes and a nod from you, your lips meet, of course she asks this time.

You can't stop yourself from grinning into the kiss, and it seems neither can she.

With all of the emotions flying, it doesn't surprise you that she's chosen now to reveal you to the world as hers. She's always been fiercly protective of you, not to mention a little possessive despite her usually laid back, playful nature.

So, presenting your relationship to the world was something she'd been thinking about doing for a while, but it was never the right time and she didn't want to add on to the stress of the looming World Cup, but now here you were, and here she was. World Cup winner.

And right now, in this moment, with the love she's pouring into the kiss, which you return with equal fervour, you're content with whatever outcome may happen after this.

When you break for air, she lets you relax a little the uncomfortable feeling of a barrier between the two of you getting to be a little much on your hips, which are protesting at the concrete constricting against them by now.

Your arms wrap around her, pulling her close to you, burying your nose into her neck as tears start to fall again.

You hold her for just a minute, and you feel the tension leaving her, her muscles relax as she just breathes you in.

She whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck and her voice a little shaky but otherwise makes you shiver slightly.

"You know, I don't think I tell you enough how much I enjoy seeing my last name between your shoulder blades."

You go to reply, but you're broken apart by her very insistent but adorable nephews, nearly climbing the barrier to get their favourite aunt.

Her sister gives you both a slightly apologetic look, but you instantly wave her off, happy to let the boys give the girl some love, too.

She steps away from the barrier, lifting them both up in her arms and walking back onto the pitch with them.

"Damn, they might actually steal my girl from me."

You joke, her sister chuckling and her older brother, Daniel, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah, don't worry, they steal Natasha from me when they visit too. They're too adorable for their own good."

"I'd be blissfully happy to let them have her honestly, she's so good with them."

Your heart races at the thought of your own kids in her arms someday.

Her sister Maddi nudges you softly.

"Watch those ovaries, they might burst."

You chuckle softly and give her a little nudge back.

"Yeah, they did that months ago. I love the way she is with them. Or just with kids in general, she's always so good to them."

"Thinking of some of your own some day?"

"I am. That's for certain. It's up to her, though. She's the one with an elusive career. I don't think we're ready right now, but maybe someday. If we do, I think I'd like them to see her get to hang up her cleats at the very least, witness their Mama's achievements."

Her sister just smiles down at you, a knowing look on her face.

"Think you'll marry her soon?"

You laugh a little at that.

"I hope so. She's got the ring buried in her gym bag. She's not as slick as she likes to think she is. But I'm happy to wait as long as it takes her to do it. Though, then again, I might propose myself in the meantime. I don't think my ovaries can take any more."

You gesture to Sam, throwing one of the boys in the air, making them laugh and squeal slightly before moving to kick a ball around with them.

"Honestly, if you don't, I think half the women in Australia would do it for you."

"Ha, make that half the women on planet earth. Have you seen some of the stuff they've tagged her in?"

"Yeeeah, I try not to. People thirsting over my sister is funny as hell but also gross. No thanks."

You throw your head back in a laugh.

"As expected."

Levi, Sam's other brother, pops his head in between you with a confused look on his.

"People do what over Sam?"

You give him a slightly incredulous look.

"Thirsting. Thirst over her? Really? You don't know?"

He shakes his head, a little weirded out.

"Your sister has been like, a few million gay womens' awakenings, did you not know that?"

"Uh, no, it's not exactly on the forefront of my mind."

You giggle and pat his cheek.

"You poor sweet innocent thing, don't ever change, whatever you do, don't look her up on tiktok. Or any social media for that matter. She made the mistake of doing it once. The look in her eye when I told her I used to be the one to browse that stuff too was freaking hilarious."

Maddi raises a brow at you.

"As far as I'm aware, you still do it, so you don't have a leg to stand on here."

You cackle at that.

"Hey, I'm not the one that makes them. I'm otherwise very happy to see slow-motion videos of my girlfriend's shirtless celebrations and backflips from the 2022 season."

Levi scrunches his nose.

"Gross."

You simply pat his shoulder and turn back to watch Sam and the award ceremony, watch as they all receive their medals, and as the confetti drops from the ceiling and out through the confetti cannons.

The screams of celebration and the shower of champagne afterwards are enormous. At that, you see the staff who are minding the two little toddlers take a few steps back with thema nd you chuckle softly.

She does eventually return the two boys to their mother, medal proudly splayed over her neck, and gives you one final kiss and hug, and you give her your congratulations before you all have to leave to head back to your hotels.

--------------------

The afterparty is enormous, and you'd forgone showering and changing in favour of getting to see Sam quicker.

The music is blasting through your eardrums, and you have to take a few shots to try and numb it down a bit and by the time the team arrives, it looks like they've already had a few drinks themselves.

Sam is one of the last through the door, walking in to cheers from the crowd of friends, family and other invited guests.

Your breath hitches when you spot her. The suit jacket and untucked button down paired with black slacks and her air force 1s make her usual 10, though now increased with the levels of tequila you just downed, turn into much higher attraction levels.

A few minutes of watching her as she makes her way around the room, accepting congratulations, hugs, and chances to have a drink with friends, she finds you.

You give her a small wink and cheer your cup mid-air at her as she makes eye contact with you, still enveloped in conversation with one of the managers from Football Australia. She, to your astonishment, knowing how bad some of the higher ups get, manages to excuse herself and slip past the incessant suits to move to you, leaning against the bar.

Her grip quickly finds your hips, wasting no time to have her hands on you once again.

"Hi, my champion."

"Hey, Gorgeous." The tone of her voice is definitely slightly slurred, and you know they hit it hard in the locker room so it's a little more obvious to you.

"How are you feeling?"

Her expression changes to giddy smile.

"Amazing, like I'm walking on air here."

You down the last of the vodka soda you have beside you.

"Good, because you're coming with me."

You drag her by the hand onto the half packed dance floor, slipping in between an already drunk Alanna and Macca and a hyped up Kyra and Charlie.

The music swirls around you as you quickly join the dancing people around you. Sam stands behind you, hands landing on your waist and moving with you. Her hips meet yours in a shameless grind, and your arm comes up to pull her head down into your neck, her lips tracing the muscle on their own accord.

Exhilaration of the win settles in your chests amongst the dancing bodies of the Matildas teammates, and the thumping vibrations of the beat rattle your ears.

Her breath is hot on your neck, murmuring words of encouragement as you rock back against her.

The rest of the night turns to a blur as you party with the team into the early hours of the morning.

It's just a few hours later when Sam's hand grabs your wrist, tugging you away from the rest of the girls. You'd moved to dance with Caitlin just ten minutes previously, sharing several bottles of champagne between the two of you, the alcohol only piling onto your own intoxication.

The girl was all too happy to drink the night away with her best friend.

You whine softly when Sam pulls you away from said best friend, Caitlin mildly protesting as well, but seeing the look in her captain's eyes, just raises her hands in defeat.

Though she does wiggle her brows suggestively at you when she sees the rest of Sam's expression, which is locked on you. You giggle and give her a joking salute as you're walked away from the dance floor.

You're dragged out of the party and around the corner to an alley, your back pressed into the brickwork.

The kiss following has your head spinning, and your girlfriends hands waist no time slipping under the front of your her jersey.

"Fuck, I can't get you in that jersey out of my head baby."

A mischievous smirk crosses your lips as she pulls back enough to mouth at your throat.

"Yeah? The thought of me with your last name on my back, huh? Like it when I'm labelled yours?"

A growl rumbles in the back of her throat.

"You have no idea."

You chuckle and tug her back up to your mouth again.

"Take me back the hotel and show me?"

--------------------

The beeping of an alarm the next morning makes your head throb, and you bury your face into the pillow below you with a groan.

The noise is quickly cut off, however, and a similar groan to your own joins the air of the hotel room.

Your eyes barely crack open, the spinning in your head setting in as you look around at the all too bright white walls mixed with the familiar bottle green of your girlfriend's national team uniform.

"Fucking christ babe, why the alarm at this hour?"

Sam barely responds from her spot buried beneath the covers beside you, her grumbling into her own pillow.

You shuffle across the mattress, moving to stand, but a hand on your wrist pulls you back. A soft whine from the forwards mouth makes you turn back to her.

"Stay, I don't have to be up til eight."

Knowing better, you check your phone on the bedside.

You curse suddenly, the night before a smatter of memories and ecstasies. As far as you could guess, you'd say it's only been about three hours since the two of would have hit the sack finally.

"Babe, it's 8:10. You definitely have to get up."

She's silent for a second, knowing you'd caught her bullshitting but doesn't move. You sigh softly and move closer to her.

"Alright, five more minutes, but we have to get up, we really don't want your teammates coming knocking again."

She hums and moves, so you're tucked into her chest, arm draped over your waist once again.

The warmth soothes your head a bit, and the nausea settles for now as you wrap yourself up in her.

You're happy to stay in the loving embrace for now. Lord knows she deserves the rest.

--------------------

Sorry guys, they're kinda getting worse, I am trying to keep them simple without rambling too long like I tend to do 😅

I'm taking my time with them though.

Hope y'all enjoyed.

[zepskies]

Miss Professor

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader

(Love triangle: Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason has to make a decision. You, or Lana Lang.

AN: Here’s the sequel to “Assistant Hottie.” Hope you enjoy!

Song Inspo: “Look at You” by Screaming Trees

Word Count: 5,200 Tags/Warnings: Angst, love triangle, hurt/comfort, fluff and a tinge of spice.~

Jason finds you in the bowels of the university library.

Out of four giant floors of books and computer labs at Central Kansas A&M (CKM), they just had to put the Writing Center in the non-proverbial basement. There you have to wear at least two layers at all times, despite the late-spring swelter outside.

Like now, when he enters the Writing Center lobby and finds you at your desk, tapping your red pen on your lip as you work on revising an essay. Jason smiles at the sight of your fuzzy red and green sweater over your jeans and ankle boots.

“You know, Christmas came and went, like, five months ago,” he teases.

You glance up at him as he steals a chair from your coworker’s desk. She’s conveniently been on break…for two hours now. Leaving you with a mildly enormous stack of essays to edit and leave feedback on.

“Yeah well, I’m running out of winterwear. It’s almost summer, for God’s sake,” you grouse. And yet, you shiver when another pass of the AC vent above your head hits your back.

Jason smiles, but he also shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around your frame. It’s lighter than what you’re wearing, but he hopes the added layer helps. You can’t help smiling up at him, though your brows end up furrowing.

“Oh, don’t do that, you’re gonna be freezing,” you protest. You try to take off the jacket, but Jason stops you by wrapping it snugly around your shoulders.

“It’s okay, I don’t plan on being here that long,” he replies.

You raise a brow. “Oh really?”

Jason grins. “You’ve got my British Lit. paper, right?”

You narrow your eyes at him, with a light grumble. “Some friendship this is. You only come to see me when you want something.”

Jason mock frowns at that accusation, but he plies you with raised brows and waggling “gimme” fingers until you relent. You reach back into your files with a sigh and hand him his ten-page essay, complete with your revisions and suggestions for the final draft.

“Here you go, freeloader,” you quip.

“Many thanks, Miss Professor,” Jason rejoins.

The nickname always manages to make your face warm a bit, no matter how you try to stamp down the butterflies in your stomach. It doesn’t help when he smiles at you like that.

His glinting green eyes soon dim, however, as he takes in the sheer amount of red marking up the pages of his essay. All 10 pages.

“Damn, woman. Was it that bad?” he asks.

“You’re actually getting better,” you say with a smile. “I’m seeing signs of improvement.”

Jason continues to flip through with a frown. “Right.”

Though when he actually starts reading your revisions, the familiar slopes of your handwriting, his disappointment begins to relent. You’ve made corrections here and there, but you’ve also written a lot of encouragements in the margins, like, “Good use of the word ‘solidarity.’”

And, “This whole paragraph perfectly explains your point. Just add a transition into the next section and you’re golden.”

Not to mention his personal favorite: correcting his typo on eggzagerate, and drawing a doodle of a fried egg above it. He doesn’t think you do that for all your customers. 

It makes him smile.

Though he looks up when he hears you yawn. You try to stifle it, but he can see clearly now that you’re tired. It’s almost 9 p.m.

“How long have you been working?” he asks.

“Since I got out of my last class at 5,” you admit. Finally, you spot your coworker coming back from her break (and she’s still on the phone, chatting away to her boyfriend).

“Have you even eaten dinner?” Jason asks.

You shake your head, with a pointed glare at your coworker. “No time. I’ve been chained to this place all night.”

The girl gives you a fake smile when she returns to her desk and grabs one of the thinnest essays from the pile. After shooting her one last narrowed look, you give Jason your full attention. He’s trying to temper his smirk.

“Come on,” he says, nudging your arm. “Let me treat you to the Central Kansas delicacy of Chicken Finger Friday.”

You laugh at that; the university food court leaves much to be desired. You still have plenty of work to do, but you’re willing to push it off until tomorrow and take him up on his offer, if it means a hot meal and spending some time with your friend. It’s been a few weeks since it’s been just the two of you, hanging out.

After grabbing your backpack and clocking out for the night, you and Jason walk together across campus. The evening air is warm. It begins to defrost you as you two venture down the sidewalk. You smile to yourself and playfully bump into his side.

Jason shoots you a grin and bumps you back, though he grabs your arm when the heel of your boot catches on the edge of the sidewalk. You both fumble a bit and laugh.

You tuck a wily strand of hair behind your ear. Part of you wants to ask what he’s doing this weekend. Maybe he’d want to go to the lake with you, hang out on the dock, or go for a swim…

But of course, that’s when his phone buzzes. He fishes it out of his pocket and his brows raise. The text is from Lana, asking him if he can come to the Talon.

I really need your help with something.

Jason lets out a breath and looks up at you apologetically.

You know that look.

“Your girlfriend?” you ask, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Jason nods. “I hate to do this to you, but we’ve both been so busy, I haven’t seen her all week.”

And this is the first time this week that Lana has reached out to him first, wanting to see him… Well, she’s also asking for a favor, but she wants to see him.

“You know, one of these days I’d love to meet this mysterious girl,” you remark, lightly shoving his arm.

Jason smiles, but inside he’s clamming up. For obvious reasons, he hasn’t told you that he’s dating Lana Lang. Though it doesn’t make it easy to keep it from you, to lie to you. Over the course of the school year, you’ve become one of his closest friends here in Smallville.

You encourage him to explore his interests and keep focused in school, and you’ve often been a listening ear whenever juggling his classes and helping to coach the Smallville High football team stress him out.

And he’s done the same for you. With your time split between being a teacher's aid at Smallville High and working in the Writing Center to make ends meet between classes, you've done your share of venting, sometimes through frustrated tears. Jason's been more than willing to provide a strong shoulder to lean on.

Now, you don’t know that dating Lana is part of his stress, but he just…can’t afford to tell you.

It doesn’t matter that Lana’s 18, and he met her months before he took this coaching job. This is a small town, and he knows how people will talk if word gets out that he’s dating a high school senior. Not to mention, he’d get very fired.

“I’m sorry,” he says to you. “This seems important.”

Again, you have to hide your disappointment when you smile at him. “It’s okay. I should probably get back to work anyway—”

“Uh-uh. No,” Jason says, grabbing your arm when you start to turn in the direction of the Writing Center. "You’re done for the night. I wanna see you marching full-speed for those dry-ass chicken tenders.”

He nods toward the campus food court, making you expel a sigh.

“If I must,” you lament.

“And you’d better not keep working on your laptop,” he warns. “If you so much as crack open that Mac, I’ll know.”

He levels a finger at you as he walks away. You roll your eyes and head to the food court, with the promise of food just beyond the glass doors. 

After a moment, you chance looking back at Jason. He catches your gaze, and he points two fingers from his eyes to your face in stern warning. 

You giggle and shake your head at him, but you keep walking toward the food court. 

Jason smirks in satisfaction. He continues on to the parking lot, and to his car.

When Jason gets to the Talon, he crosses paths with Clark, who’s just walking out. 

“Hey, man,” Jason greets, with a jovial pat on the younger man’s shoulder. Though he can’t help but wonder why the guy is here at this time of night. “Little late for a coffee fix, huh?”

“Hey, Coach T,” Clark smiles. “Could say the same about you.”

Jason blinks at that. He cards a hand through his short hair and laughs it off. “Yeah, I was in the mood for a slice of your mom’s coffee cake. Any left?”

Martha Kent supplied the Talon with its baked goods, and they were most certainly worth driving across town for. It’s a pretty good excuse, if he says so himself.

Clark nods. “Yeah, should be.”

“All right. G'night,” Jason says. Clark nods and waves goodbye before he heads to his red truck in the parking lot. 

Jason shakes his head and steps into the coffee shop, where he finds Lana alone. She’s cleaning up a large takeout bag from Gino’s, the Italian restaurant across the street. He silently takes note of it, but doesn’t yet comment when he kisses his girlfriend in greeting.

“Why’d you send up the Bat Signal on this fine Friday night?” he asks, wrapping her in his arms.

Lana smiles up at him. “Well, I’m probably going to be slammed all weekend with the shop, but I’ve got this huge speech for class on Monday and was hoping you’d help me practice.”

She pulls those doe-like hazel eyes on him, and Jason’s almost captured by them. This time, he lets out a small sigh.

“You know I’m always down to help you out. Always. But you know, we haven’t just hung out in a while now,” he points out.

Lana concedes to that with an incline of her head, but she still eases out of his arms to finish cleaning up.

“Yeah, I’ve just been really busy,” she says.

“I have too,” Jason replies. “But even with my crazy schedule, going back and forth from campus, don't I still make time for you?”

Case in point, he was willing to come out to her on the drop of a hat, late at night, and on the crunch week before his final exams. But he would be hard-pressed to remember a time when Lana went out of her way to see him.

Lana pauses, casting him a frown. "I'm trying my best, Jason. You know I'm graduating in a few weeks. Everything's ramped up to 11 this year."

Yeah, I know the feeling, Jason thinks, but after a moment, he caves with a nod, even though his gaze lingers on the Gino's bag.

“Have you eaten?” he tests. “Let me get us some takeout.”

He almost said, Let me take you out, somewhere nice. But he hadn’t been able to do that since before he got to Smallville. He’s beginning to wonder if he ever will again.

“Oh,” Lana says. Her eyes avert from his as she wipes down a table. “I already ate.”

Jason draws closer to her and dips his chin in order to catch her gaze. Eventually, she pauses and glances up at him.

“With Clark?” he asks.

Lana tightens up, just as he predicted. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw him when I came in,” Jason replies. He tilts his head at Lana, who never used to be a good liar. But ever since they had to start hiding their relationship, he’s noticed how good she also hides her thoughts and feelings around other people…maybe even to herself.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “He was here. But we were studying for finals, and we got hungry. That’s it.”

Jason shakes his head, but she grabs his hand with both of hers. He looks down at her tan, slender hands, and can’t help but be drawn back to her beautiful face.

“It’s not a big deal,” she says, as if that can dismiss the churning in his gut.

“Listen,” he says, rubbing at his face. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I’m sorry but…do you still have feelings for him?”

“No,” she refutes, “I’m with you, Jason. How many times do I have to prove that this is what I want?”

She seems so annoyed and vehement that Jason has to believe her. He wants to, so badly.

Maybe too much.

The last straw comes just two weeks before the end of spring semester—with the coming of senior prom. Jason knows he can’t ask Lana, but she assured him that she wasn’t going. 

He has a late class that night, but afterwards, he promised to pick her up and get dinner together in Metropolis. A nice date, a long-ass way out of town, so they’re unlikely to be recognized.

On the Friday evening, just hours before a high school dance, you and Jason sit together in the one class you have together: Introduction to Mass Media. 

It only meets once a week, for three hours. Technically it’s an elective for both of you, but you’d told Jason to pick any class outside of his major that he was interested in. Anything to broaden his horizons, and you promised to join him. For some reason, he chose this one. 

He thought it would be easy. Just a study of pop. culture stuff, with a mix of social media, maybe a dash of sports, if he was lucky. He’d actually been surprised with how much he was enjoying the segments on videography and broadcast journalism. 

Right now, however, he's distracted. You can certainly tell, the way he keeps checking his phone.

“What’s wrong?” you lean over and ask in a whisper. He knows how anal Professor Jones is about cell phones in class. The man had a “contraband bucket” to collect them in, if he caught a student using one.

“Just letting my girlfriend know I’m gonna be a bit late,” Jason grumbles, though he’s looking at the screen. “Jones is droning on past the eternity mark, as usual.”

A man clears his throat above you and Jason. You both look up and meet the flat gaze of Professor Jones. He shakes the bucket in his hand with an arched brow. Already there's about three contraband phones inside.

Jason gives a wan smile. “Come on, Professor. We were supposed to be outta here 20 minutes ago anyway.”

The lines in Professor Jones’s face betrays one simple truth: he doesn’t give a shit.

“Bucket, Mr. Teague,” he says.

Jason’s lips press in irritation, but he’s forced to drop his phone into the waiting bucket. He doesn’t see two mixed text messages from his girlfriend.

You lay a comforting hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m sure she’ll understand.”

By the time Jason gets to the Talon, the lights are dark and Lana’s not home. Suspicion creeps in, making him feel a little crazy. 

He decides to get back into his car and drive down to Smallville High. There the gym is decked out to the nines in some kind of underwater theme. It reminds him of his own senior prom a couple of years ago, complete with the punch bowl and cheesy snacks. 

But soon enough, the nostalgia comes to a screeching halt.

A familiar ballad croons from the band on the stage.

"And how can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? ...Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?"

He sees Lana on the dance floor, wearing one of the most beautiful dresses he’s ever seen. And she’s in the arms of one Clark Kent. 

Jason's never hated Lifehouse so much.

On Saturday morning, before the Talon even opens, Lana opens the door to Jason while still wearing her robe.

“Hey!” she says, with wide eyes, though she lets him in.

“You seem real surprised,” Jason notes.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s early for you on a Saturday,” Lana remarks with a short laugh. But she still leans up to kiss him. She only manages to get his cheek, since he doesn’t bend down to meet her like he usually would.

She frowns. “Is something wrong?”

Jason doesn’t answer at first. The words are stuck in his throat. He gestures for them to move away from the glass doors, where anyone can peek in. So they travel up to her bedroom and close the door.

It’s not the first time he’s been in her room, though not much has ever happened on her bed. He’s waited completely on her signals for that one. Though now, he’s actually kind of grateful that their relationship has never progressed that far. It makes what he’s about to do easier.

“Where were you last night?” he asks. He figures they’d better start there.

“I tried calling you,” he adds, when Lana doesn’t immediately offer a reply.

“Well, I didn’t hear from you. I figured you were busy with your classes, so…I went to prom by myself,” she says.

Jason sighs. “You didn’t seem all that lonely.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

Her confusion looks so real. A perfect face, and a damn near perfect lie.

“Look, I saw you and Clark on that dance floor,” Jason finally says. “Wasn't that just the perfect Hallmark moment?”

“Jason…” Lana finally starts to break. She doesn’t want to admit what’s broken, her gaze falling to the floor.

“No, let me say this,” he says. “Lana, I really put my all into this. I did whatever I could to be with you. To love you, to protect you. But in your heart, I think somewhere down the line you decided you don’t want that to be me.”

Lana’s eyes flood with tears, but she doesn’t deny it. 

“I think it’s time to really call it quits this time,” Jason says, “for both our sakes.”

He can’t help but reach out to her. His thumb brushes her cheek. Lana’s watery gaze meets his as her lower lip wobbles. She grabs his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Jason,” she confesses.

He won’t say it’s okay, but he accepts that with a nod, and he kisses her cheek. 

It’s a goodbye that’s meant to last.

Once he’s back in the relative safety of his car, Jason lets out a deep breath. He grabs his phone from his pocket on some unspoken urge; in that moment, he needs something. Someone.

He needs you.

You answer on the third ring, sounding sleepy on your day off.

“You’d better be on fire,” you say. Jason smiles at the sound of your grumpy voice.

“Hey,” he laughs a little, though he's surprised that it comes so easily. “You doing anything right now?”

“Besides sleeping?” you toss back. “…No. Not really. My life is boring.”

“Boring sounds nice right about now,” Jason says, more seriously than he meant to. “Wanna take a drive or something?”

You hesitate, just for a moment. Then your voice greets him again.

“Let’s go.”

When Jason arrives at your house, you come out to meet him. He gets out of his car, and already he looks wrong. He looks drained of all energy.

“What’s wrong?” you ask in concern, grabbing his arm when you’re close enough. His eyes find yours.

“We broke up,” he says.

It takes your brain a second or two to compute. (You’ve just finished your first cup of coffee, after all.) But then, you’re moving to wrap your arms around his neck in the tightest, warmest hug you can give.

He holds you back for a while, and you relish in the feeling of his hands smoothing around your back and pulling you in close. His chin tucks on your shoulder, and you rub his back.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

He hums in response. Sometimes, what is just is.

He lets you drive him out to the lake near your house, in your beat up Volvo. This lake is your favorite place in the world, you tell him, as you two sit side-by-side on the dock. Your sneaker-clad feet dangle over the edge, next to his longer legs.

“So far,” he corrects. “There’s a whole lot of world out there.”

You smile. “Yeah, you gonna show me? Got a magic carpet tucked in your dorm somewhere?”

Jason laughs, and you’re grateful to see his smile so soon.

“Yeah, along with a dusty-ass lamp,” he says.

You smile, but you tilt your head at him. “Are you okay?”

Jason’s grin slips a little. “Yeah, I think so…is that bad?”

You bite your lip. “Depends. What was her name? I don’t think you even told me.”

Jason turns to you, and he sighs deeply. It takes him a moment, but he eventually answers while looking you in the eyes.

“Lana Lang,” he says.

The name rings a bell…and as it comes to you, it blares like a foghorn. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open in shock.

“J-Jason…she’s a student,” you stammer. “Not like, us students. Like—”

“I know. We met before I got the coaching job,” Jason explains quickly, before you can blow up at him. 

He can see you’re freaking out, trying to contain your reaction with a hand over your mouth. But the more he explains, the more you withdraw into a simmering silence. He can tell, however, that you don’t know how to feel about it. 

“Do you regret it?” you ask.

It’s not the first thing he thought you would say, but it’s very you all the same.

“Well, being outmaneuvered by my own quarterback stings like a bitch, but I still think I’m better looking,” Jason jokes. Because that’s what he does when he’s uncomfortable.

Too bad that was the wrong answer.

You roll your eyes with a disgusted huff, and you pull yourself up onto your feet. You start to leave him there at the dock, but Jason hops up as well and grabs your hand.

“Hey, wait,” he implores. “Look, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was just…easier.”

“Why, because you didn’t trust me?” you challenge. “Or because you felt guilty about what you were doing?”

The truth is, Jason doesn’t feel guilty. Not for his relationship.

“I was trying to protect her reputation,” he says. “I know how smalltown people think. She’d be the talk of the damn town. And for what? Because we’re two years apart?”

“And I’m smalltown, is that it? I’m sorry I’m not as evolved as you, Mr. Metropolis,” you snark. “Forgive me for being a lowly country bumpkin with some morals.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jason says with an angry frown, throwing up his hands in frustration.

You shake your head at him and start booking it towards your car.

Jason follows. “You know you can’t leave me out here, right?”

“Just get in the car, before I change my mind!”

He obliges you, and it’s a painful ride back to your house. He really can’t believe you’re being like this. It’s the first real argument he’s ever had with you. He knew you might get upset, but he did think you’d be a little more understanding…

“Look, we met in Paris last summer,” he admits. And a hint more vulnerable, “I just…couldn’t help but fall for her.”

“I get it, Jason,” you reply. Your voice is flat. 

“Just please don’t tell anyone,” he asks. “We’re done. She’s about to graduate.”

As mad as you are at him for lying to you, you begrudgingly see his point. You can also start to understand why he didn’t tell you. 

But, regardless of how you feel, you don’t want him to lose his job. You know it’s the only way he can afford college.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” you say, before you can reign yourself in.

Jason turns to you with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

It’s still awkward when you two get to your house. He turns to you, like he wants to say something that’ll most likely soften you. 

You’re not ready for that. 

So you kill the engine and get out of the car without looking at him. Jason takes the hint; he doesn’t say another word to you when he gets into his car and peels away.

The next weeks that follow are hard for Jason. As a member of the staff, he’s forced to go to Smallville High’s graduating ceremony.

He watches Clark and Lana graduate together with the rest of their friends. The two of them hug after she gets off stage, looking at one another with a moment of blushing smiles. It’s an inevitable look.

It makes Jason feel sick. He leaves as soon as he can, going back to languish in his dorm room. He lays on his bed over the covers with his hands folded over his stomach and his eyes closed.

He thinks about you. 

He can see you in his mind’s eye, with a pen balanced between your teeth and your hair falling over to brush the pages you pour over.

He sees your fuzzy green sweater. Your smile. The shade of your hair, your eyes, your laugh, your furrowed look when you’re concentrating hard on revising a sentence.

The more he sees, the more he wants to call you. To hear your voice, even if you're just going to yell at him. 

Jason sighs. He sits up in bed and has a thought that soon takes hold of his body, and has him swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and pulling his backpack closer.

He pulls out a folder for one of his classes and finds an essay you revised. His eyes scan over the encouragements you’ve left in the margins, along with the stray doodles. They still make him smile.

And it reminds him of the first note you ever gave him, which he keeps tucked in a small drawer in his desk. He tosses the folder onto his bed and goes to that drawer, where he finds your hastily written haiku.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

You don’t know that those words have kept his head above water in times where he’s wanted to quit school.

Or even worse, in those times when he’s wanted to go to his father, tail between his legs, to ask for money and a job doing anything easy.

So now, Jason realizes that he needs to make another decision.

He gets out of bed, and he goes to see you.

Jason travels down to the basement of the CKM library, to the Writing Center, where you’re sitting at your desk as always on a Thursday night. You have a pile of essays stacked high next to you, and your forehead is wrinkled while you read a problematic passage.

The smell of coffee makes you look up first, before you realize who brought it. Your eyes widen at seeing Jason, along with his small smile and peace offering.

“Hey,” he says.

His voice washes over you, his eyes that always manage to disarm you, even now.

Despite your better judgment, you take the coffee from him and revel at its warmth. It has to be 60 degrees in this damn room (you’re one step shy of bringing your winter gloves next time).

You sip at the coffee and hum in delight at the taste of caramel and cinnamon—a combination that only your family, and Jason, would know you loved.

Your gaze flits up to his, more begrudging as you sigh.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Teague?” you ask.

Jason grins and takes your coworker’s empty chair to sit across from you.

“I’ve got a little haiku for you,” he says, handing you a folded piece of paper. You eye him in confusion, but you set down the coffee on your desk and take his second offering. You unfold it and read something that genuinely takes you by surprise.

Hey, Miss Professor

I’ve got a question for you…

Want to get dinner?

You can’t help but laugh. It’s most definitely not a haiku, but you also know that it’s his best shot. His smile is sheepish, making yours deepen. 

“So, what’s your answer?” he asks. 

You glance down at the page, then back at him. You bite your lip, and your heart clenches. Is this it? you wonder. Is he asking you out, for real? You can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. 

“What kind of dinner?” you ask.

Jason’s grin fades. “What do you mean?”

“Is this our normal kind, where we roll out like we’re Thelma and Louise?” you ask, making him snort. “Or is this the kind where I need to change out of my dirty sneakers and brush my hair?”

He shrugs; his amused grin is back. “I mean, however I get you is all right by me.”

You nearly utter another sigh, but Jason surprises you yet again—by grabbing your hand. 

“But, uh…I’d like this to be the kind of dinner where we try something new,” he says, licking his dry lips. He looks a bit uncertain, you think, hiding the fear of rejection. “Maybe you’ll let me do my Cary Grant impression and get you some flowers. Box of chocolates.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Chocolates?”

“Whatever it takes,” he says. His tone is joking, but he seems serious. You know him well enough by now to spot the difference.

“Whatever it takes, huh?” you ask.

Jason’s hand tightens on yours, but his eyes never leave you. He really is serious, and it makes your heart stutter and trill with warmth. It feels a lot like hope.

He leans in, his head bowing towards yours…but you lay a hand against his chest.

It stops him, until your fingers curl into his shirt.

Your gaze slowly meets his.

When he reaches for your cheek, this time you let him pull you in. 

His kiss is sudden, but it’s still a gentle test. You take in a deep breath through your nose as your eyes fall closed. You press your lips against his, answering him. His fingers slide into your hair and drag down the back of your neck. It makes you shudder and tug him even closer by his shirt. 

Jason’s solution is gathering you into his lap, where you take his face with both hands and kiss him with unfettered passion. The locked doors of your heart are swinging open, and it’s a sweet relief to be honest with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

He’s gripping your hip, his fingers pressing into your thigh, while the other hand supports your lower back and presses you flush against him. As the kiss slows, so does your hand in his hair, more soothing now than gripping. 

When your lips eventually draw apart from his, it’s with panting breaths. You stare into his eyes, as yours brim with relieved tears. You touch his cheek.

“I better not be a rebound,” you warn him. “I can’t take that, Jase.”

Jason shakes his head, holding you a fraction tighter. “No, believe me. That's the last thing you are."

You bite your lip, and he encourages you to release it with his thumb brushing across your lower lip. You've been on his mind longer than he can readily admit. Since the first day he met you.

"I know I haven't made it easy, but will you trust me on this?” he asks. "I really wanna do this right with you."

It takes you a moment to decide, but you do. You trust him.

So you nod and brush your fingers along the apple of his cheek. 

“Okay,” you concede. "Let's do this."

Jason grins. “Oh, thank God.”

You giggle softly and hide your face in his neck. His chest shakes with a chuckle as he holds you back. It feels very right to hold you, he thinks.

Just as it's a relief for you to finally be in his arms.

“Where d’you wanna go for dinner?” he asks.

You laugh, a bit giddy as you cling to him and thread your fingers in his golden hair.  

“I don’t give a damn.”

AN: Haha, I hope you liked this! ❤️ These one-shots are kind of AU, in that I don't get into the Stones of Power arc of S4 just for simplicity's sake.

I do have one more one-shot idea rolling around in my head for these two...the reader meeting Jason's infamous mother lol (Genevieve Teague, played by the fabulous Jane Seymour)!

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[lsgv]

Prompt #15

“What is it? What’s wrong Sidekick?” Hero rushes to shacking sidekick.

“No-nothing… I-“ sidekick tries to explain, but the sobbing doesn’t let them.

“Come here,” Hero hugs them. “It’s ok, shhh.”

Sidekick lets out muffled cries, they can’t control it.

“It’s ok, it’s ok, don’t worry, everything is fine, you’re all right, you’re safe, shhh, it’s ok, you’re safe here.” Hero reassures, poor kid, something bad must have happened.

“I- I don’t know wha-what to do with myself anymore.” They manage to say, shackling. “I don’t-I didn’t know where to go get help, Hero! You’re my-my only hope, Hero, I feel like I’m dying inside. Please, please help me!” Sidekick cries.

Hero is shocked, they had alway thought that Sidekick was alright, how could they miss this?!

“Hey, it’s ok, I’m here, I’ll help you. Don’t worry, I’ll always be here for you, ok?”

Sidekick only nods and hugs Hero tighter.

“I’ll make some tea, just sit in the couch, feel like home.”

“Th-thanks” Sidekick answers sniffing.

“I’ll be right back.”

Hero prepares both tea cups and returns to Sidekick after it.

“Careful, it’s hot. “ Hero hands Sidekick their cup.

“Thanks”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” Sidekick takes a sip of their tea.

“About why you came here in the middle of the night crying?”

“Oh, that… umm, I had an argument with my mom.” Sidekick says embarrassed.

“Oh, what happened? Was it that bad really?”

“Well, umm… I-I-she hit me with a pan multiple times and then gave me a speech on why I’m a failure and why I can’t be more like my brother and all of that… but umm… I also didn’t come immediately here, I, umm, I was kinda sucidal and cut the veins from my arm, then I realized I’m sort of a hero and couldn’t just die, so I stitched me up -kinda- and now I’m here and I don’t think I plan returning home.”

“What the fuck” Hero murmured. “Are you ok?! Do you need help with your wounds? Why didn’t you start there? I-I’ll go get the first aid kid, do-don’t move.”

“Hero, I’m ok, don’t worry.”

“Too late, you’re getting all patched up.”

Sidekick sighed and took a sip or their tea.

“I’m back, where would you like me to start, in the arm or…?” Hero placed the kit on the coffee table.

“The arm, please.”

“Ok, let me see… Oh my gosh, Sidekick, what the fuck did you do?! This is baaaad.” “Sorry?”

“Don’t be, it’s ok, you’re gonna be fine. Just take a deep breath, I’m going to cut the stitches you made, ok?”

“Ok.” Sidekick took a deep breath and Hero rubbed some alcohol, and that alone hurt a lot. Sidekick grunted.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. It’s almost over.” That was a lie.

Hero then started cutting the stitches, hurting Sidekick more.

“You know what, bite this down, we don’t want more accidents.” Hero handed a bandage roll to Sidekick.

“Ready?”

Sidekick nodded in agreement. Hero finishes cutting through and cleaned everything to restitch them. Sidekick’s screams were muffled but still awful to hear.

“Ok, done!” Sidekick sighed with relief at those words. “Now, did the pan leave any wound that I can help?”

“I don’t think so, I didn’t feel any blood or anything, maybe just bruises.”

”Do you want me to check?”

“No, it’s ok, thanks.”

“Ok. Come here, I’ll show you your room.”

“Room?! As in my room?”

“Yeah?” Hero was confused.

“Wow! I never had my own room! Awesome!” Sidekick was stunned by that.

“Wait, what?” Hero was shocked, they hoped they misunderstood that.

“Yeah, my siblings and I all slept in the same bed.”

“Oh, I see, well, this is all yours.”

“Really?! Thanks.” Sidekick hugged Hero.

“It’s this one.” Hero opened the door.

“Wow!.” Sidekick was impressed, it was enormous.

“Thanks Hero, really, thanks, thanks, thanks!” Sidekick hugged Hero.

“You’re welcome, Sidekick. There’s clothes in the counter and soap and everything you might need on the bathroom. Do you want dinner?”

“Thanks, but I ate at my house. Really, thanks for all.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

And with that, Hero left Sidekick in their new room.

[whumblr]

Tumbling down

Crossed out - Continued from ch.6 - Prologue

-

Forced back on his feet, thrown out of Nero’s office, the door slammed shut behind him. The noise vibrated right through him and it felt like his head was about to split open.

Lucas caught himself as he nearly sank to his haunches. He gripped his head tight, groaned as he lightly leaned forward. Please, please, don’t be a concussion. But well, if it was, what was he gonna do about it?

Left to fend for himself, he stumbled along the hallway, gripping and pawing his way along the wall for support. Though short, that beating was nothing but severe. A severe warning. Meaning things could only get worse…

Taking a deep breath and checking himself before he entered the common space back to his cell, he clenched his jaw. With some effort he stood straight and walked in, desperately trying to make it seem like nothing had happened to him.

Though a little slower than usual, with his body wanting nothing more than to slump over and each step requiring enormous strength, he dragged himself up the stairs, ignored all eyes on him, and shuffled towards his cell.

One of his neighbours leaned against the bars of cell from the inside, arms resting on the horizontal bar, dangling out. His cellmate, outside, leaning back against the railing of the pathway, stopped mid-conversation and pressed himself back to let Lucas pass.

“Whoa man, you alright?”

Lucas stopped.

It was a simple question. Yet it pierced his guard and shook him right to his core. It forced him to acknowledge what happened, and worse, forced his mind to catch up with the state of his body.

His throat tightened and he swallowed hard. Forced a smile, forced himself to take another shaky step towards his cell, and he heard himself squeak, voice a little higher than usual: “Yeah... Yeah, I’ll be fine, thanks.”

Not yet. He swallowed again, forcing the lump down.

He made it to his cell, shed himself from the concerned gazes on his back as he disappeared from sight, and collapsed onto his cot.

The question still rang through his mind. Was it the genuine concern that got to him? Or did the question hit something deeper? Because, no, he was not alright. But if he admitted to that… then – Nero’s voice echoed in the back of his mind – he’d know what to do tomorrow.

And he wasn’t going to do that. Meaning he’d have to go through this again. Tomorrow. The day after. And Nero wouldn’t stop after three blows…

He stifled a sniffle. Not yet! Squeezed his eyes shut. They might come see if you’re alright. Stay quiet, pretend you’re asleep.

So he waited. Laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, just… existing. He didn’t acknowledge the pain rumbling through his body, didn’t engage with the worries screaming in his mind, because if he did—

He waited. Waited until the buzzer announced lights out in five minutes. Waited until everyone was in their cell, until no one would pass by his anymore, until no one would have the opportunity to check in on him, see if he was alright, or mock his weakness.

And when the lights went out with a plastic ting and the chorus of metal scraping the cell doors shut had ceased with a loud clang—

The first tear tickled down his cheek.

And it burst out.

He pressed his pillow over his face, desperately trying to keep his sharp heaves from slipping free. He couldn’t stop it; all emotions finally broke free from the cage where he’d stowed them all. He wanted to scream, but even muffled screams carried well through the silence of night. And he didn’t want to be the hot topic discussed over breakfast tomorrow.

Everything, not just the beating from tonight, everything that had happened these last couple of days, everything he’d had to bury, came crashing over him.

When your world comes tumbling down, it’s not just one thing.

When it rains, it pours. The water steadily rising right up to your neck, sure. But it also corrodes everything around you. It slowly tears down the wall of the world you’ve build around you, the world that you trusted. And that trust suddenly collapsed in on itself, large chunks breaking off, splashing into the water around you, and you’re surrounded by the remnants.

It wasn’t just his freedom that they’d taken. The life he had. It was his faith in the system. The system he worked for. The system that now worked against him and was exploited with loopholes and carelessness to keep him here.

He’d had clients of course who had treated him with outright contempt, convinced he wasn’t there to help them but make things worse. He’d always tried to prove otherwise. Tried to prove the system not only worked, but worked for them.

But now… now he started to see where that contempt came from. It’s a tough system to fight. Once you’re in, it’s hard to get out. Especially if you’ve got no one in your corner.

Luckily he had. Thank god he had put his trust in Ava, shared the story when he could. And now, he had all hopes pinned on her. He just had to hold on. Had to.

He flipped his pillow so he wouldn’t feel the cold tear stains press against his cheek. A final soft sniffle and he closed his eyes. Better out now than bursting into tears in Nero’s office. At least it calmed him down. Or well, more likely he was just empty; hollowed out, having finally given in to all emotions. Only the dull pain throbbing with every heartbeat kept circling through him.

Scare tactics, he tried to tell himself, resting an arm over his eyes. This was all just scare tactics. Only it would leave him with more bruises and maybe even broken bones every day, every night. Until he was so scared that he’d cave.

He turned over, exhaustion washing over him. He was glad he was alone, didn’t have a cellmate. Now at least he could break down in peace and in silence with everyone stuck in their own cells. Alone with no one to distu—

His eyes snapped open.

Footsteps sounded through the silent hall, metal echoing under heavy boots.

No… no, no, no. He recognised that slow footfall, those deliberate steps. Fear gripped him tight, despite his protests, froze his limbs. What was this? Going for just desserts?! Because he wasn’t hurting enough yet and he couldn’t wait until tomorrow?

The footsteps got closer and closer, and Lucas could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. But then they stopped. Farther away than he’d expected.

He opened his eyes. There was no dark silhouette in front of his door. The shrill creak of a cell door opening pierced through the air and thank god it wasn’t his.

Despite all warning bells, he slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the door, peeking through the bars.

It was indeed Nero standing outside one of the cells.

Graff, the man who had tried to protect his cellmate the other day stepped out. Deflated, defeated, but without prompting and without a word, a certain determination – maybe even relief – in his posture, as if he’d been waiting for this. Nero stepped back to let him walk ahead.

The two silhouettes walked off. A door fell shut. And silence draped over the cell area once again, as if nothing had happened.

Lucas retreated back to bed, but kept listening intently for that silence to be broken again, for shuffling footsteps not unlike his own that signalled Graff returning. But nothing happened. And he couldn’t fight sleep off any longer.

The next morning he quickly got dressed – fast as he could – and stood outside his cell before his door had even fully opened.

Yawning and stretching, the other prisoners followed suit, falling into rank. Except for one cell, where the door was open, but no one stepped outside.

An ominous feeling swirled around his stomach, though some relief mixed in when he saw Nero wasn’t making the morning rounds today. One of the regular guards did rollcall and didn’t even glance in his direction nor reminded him of his impending doom for that evening. Guess Nero didn’t do both night and morning shifts.

During breakfast, Lucas glanced around the cafeteria, but didn’t see Graff anywhere. Nor his cellmate.

He did spot Marcus, but decided against sitting with him. He didn’t want to follow the first guy that had been somewhat kind to him around like a duckling. Also, he couldn’t bear to have Marcus’ eyes roam the fresh bruises on his face, see the disappointment in his eyes that he hadn’t listened to his warning.

Instead, he sat with some of the guys he worked with. Could feel their stares poking at the bruise across his face, but they didn’t say a word. Overall, they didn’t seem surprised.

“Have you guys seen Graff?”

“Karl? Saw Nero march off with him last night so, infirmary, probably.”

That was what Lucas suspected too, but to hear it confirmed so casually… “But he didn’t do anything wrong?”

A short silence. Then one of the men spoke quietly, a hint of remorse in his voice.

“We don’t decide on that.”

-

Continued here

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