#i had a vision and i'm not sure it turned out the way i pictured it but oh well

[angelesca]

w.c. 3.4k💀so much words for this crap / sunday x truckdriver!gnreader (dafuqq is this dynamic), small stories, 99% of the penacony cast are impressed by you(they should be), robin is a cutie pie, sunday is a closeted robin fan, you and sunday squabble daily, sunday your wonweek is showing💗, wrote this in the tumblr drafts vro🔥part crack a/n: farted this out bc i got inspired by this otome isekai manhwa i was reading [truck knight taekbae] + aesthetics inspired by [who made me a princess]

darkness monopolised your vision ever since you got here; day time never graced you. the insulated walls do their job well—only the vibrations, the frayed edges of sound, can be heard. 

chains grip your wrists, the metal twisting into your skin, wringing it like cloth. ouch. what now? maybe if you fart consecutively, and hard enough, you can blow your way out?

"brother... why…?" vibrations again. 

"don’t… monitor… danger."

the iron door creaks. light shines a single ray though the gap, and like the sun, the radiance blinds you. you squint your eyes, tracing the outline of two silhouettes.

the taller one approaches, each stride covering an equal, set amount of distance without a lost beat. "i have one question," their tone dashes against the whetstone, pointing a sharpened blade at you. "who are you?"

their eyes did not welcome any light, no reflection of you in them, as if you were only a whisper of the air. you feel the cracks in your throat. "me? i’m just a truck driver."

you are having tea with sunday.

after the less-than-ideal introductions, the picture cleared: you, a truck driver, are isekai’d into penacony via truck inception(?).

"i apologise for my manners," sunday sips his cup. "when you... suspisciously appeared in my bathroom, unresponding, there was no room to be courteous."

"sorry about that," you play with the rim of your cup awkwardly. "i'm not sure what happened either." the honest truth.

sunday shakes his head. he's majestic. "so, you said that you were…" he taps his chin.

"a truck driver."

"a criminal?"

"... truck driver."

“an assassin?”

"..." you almost turned into one.

little did you know, your lone walk was accompanied by a slithering shadow. except... it was no shadow. it was a dazzling spotlight that had fans and reporters following her repslendent glow, as expected of penacony's halovian songstress: robin.

"you mentioned you were a truck driver," finally, someone knows what a truck driver is. "will you allow me to see it?"

yes, your truck teleported into the dreamscape too. how could you live without them? they sit by a pavement on penacony's streets, hoarding the stares of confused citizens.

you watch an infinite cosmos flare in robin's incandescent eyes. your truck is just that impressive. "wow...! it's so beautiful!"

"what a curious machine," a blue and blonde-haired pair are analysing. "a vehicle that inefficiently operates on wheels? rather old-fashioned."

"what in the ever-lovin' fudge? my great-great-great-great-great gramps had one of those!"

"a sight of blissful beauty blooms before my eyes. amazing!"

“where am i?” 

“acheron, it hasnt even been a minute yet and you’re confused.”

people's eager stomping tremble the earth and sky. it's just that impressive. in the distance, an extra pair of wary eyes observe you.

"i admit, i am still suspiscious of you," sunday crosses one leg over the other. "robin sang nothing but praises. however, i'm afraid i'll need you under my surveillance to prove your trustworthiness."

urk. possessive much? "why are there knives, swords, and rocket launchers on the table?" sunday cocks an eyebrow at you, expecting you to make a move. "... i'm really not an assassin, sunday." but you do know his entire life story, so you're actually his stalker.

suddenly. the room blurs. an annoying static repeats, plucking the sensory wires from your circuit. is he... is he using his thingamajig powers?

"you may not be one... for now." he looks out a large window. you follow his gaze. wait a minute. what are they doing to-

“MY TRUUUUCK!!!” your passion transcends boundaries, past the lower-case and forcing the caps lock. lunging, you rush outside the mansion. "HEy!"

"aaaaa!! run!"

"eeek!"

"nyaa~!" who the hell was that?

"what the..." you are stunned. how dare they vandalise your truck! "was this your order?" you turn to sunday, infuriated.

"what will you do now?" a corner of his lips lifts, provoking.

you clench your fist. no one messes with you, the best truck driver, and only truck driver, in penacony.

hypothetically, if you got hit by a truck and ended up here, could you, a truck driver, hit a penaconian and isekai them over to your world?

"hey, robin?"

"hm?" her smile is innocent, gazing at you with a prospering kindness deserving of its own halo.

you smack your head. a dozen times over. then a few more.

"hey, aventurine?"

"hi hi~"

you shake your head. wouldn't his luck interfere? if anything, you'd be the one to get run over again.

"hey, acheron?"

"who are you?"

doesn't even know who you are despite telling her a minute ago. if she ended up in your world, she'd be asking the same question anyway: "where am i?"

you pick your nose. she'd slice you in half. period.

"hey, rappa."

"dazzling ninja rappa at your service!"

"as am i, the dimension-trespassing truck driving ninja!"

unfortunately, ninja roleplay with rappa is too fun. every friday, you play dnd together and you can't miss it this week.

there's only one person left.

"hey sun-"

"don't."

you stare blankly. "i didn't say anything?"

sunday glares back. "if you are going to speak to me, do it in front of me, and not while starting the engine of your truck."

"tch... damn."

"could i use your truck as a stage prop for my next concert?"

"oh, what if it suddenly rains?"

"what if i accidentally trip?"

you notice a gap in robin's behaviour. "how come you're so nervous today?"

robin looks at you, mouth on the verge of speaking. she looks down at her shoes. "hmm..." she tilts her head, lips mumbling. she hesitates, unready to spill her heart.

there's one thing you do best. you suggest, "why don't we go for a ride in my truck?"

robin's hunched back quickly reshapens itself. it's been some time since you've had a passenger, but with the way robin swiftly adjusts herself in the seats, excited, you don't worry about the mess in the truck. you start the vehicle, ready to stroll penacony's streets.

you hand her a piece of unexpired candy from a compartment, and she accepts the gesture. it doesn't take long before robin settles herself afterwards. she sighs. "... it's my brother, he'll be attending a show for the first time. i'm a bit nervous."

"why would he not be supportive?" you question.

robin shakes her head. "it may be because my brother is a perfectionist. i can't help but believe that he'll be expecting a flawless performance."

halovian songstress robin, a nation-wide icon, for her, expectations continually rise without rest. but for now, she sits next to you as robin herself, without the embellishments and performing. a breath of fresh air.

words of reassurance may be able to tend her heart. "make as many mistakes as you want," you comfort, "you are robin yourself before you are a singer, a civilian, and a sister."

the candy in her palm is scrunched. her heart, opens. robin herself, smiles. not because she is expected to, not because she is told to, but because she wants to. "thank you."

on the eighth day, grant... sunday getting down on one knee for you. wasn't this a bit fast?

your mouth opens. "are you proposing right now?"

"what are you on about?" sunday looks up at you, eyebrows scrunched. in his hands, a riiiiiiiiiiing- no, he's just cleaning his shoes with a cloth. better luck next time.

robin suggested to use your truck like a cabbie. that way, you can still keep your pride as a truck driver, and provide ears for wary hearts:

a student struggling with academics.

someone who doesn't know which direction to take.

the ramblings of a doctor whose words are spoken with precision, slicing his words into the victim's flesh. but behind the gloves are trembling hands that only wishes to sew tight the rotting wounds of a poor gambler, if only he would let him.

a galaxy ranger who witnessed the brevity of lives in the isolated expanse of the universe, walked along the shore of nihility. she departs with you her true name so that when she returns, your heart can accompany her solitude once more.

a young girl who cannot tell if the blood on her hands are someone else's, or her own. every allude to life reminded her of a deathly fate. however, as your passenger, she is reminded that she can forge a life of her own, undecided by destiny. penance and redemption, then, in the end, she hopes to regain her humanity.

you've listened to them all. unlocked each of their hearts, always gave back the key if they ever wanted to return again. turns out, the people of penacony are not much different from those in your world.

robin would pass out if she saw this.

from what you remember, there were 88 doors in the oak family's residence (you're a dedicated fan). you've explored each one, door 86, 87, 88... 89?

a secluded door that can only be seen with eagle eyes. the mystery kindles sparks in your chest, flaming curious fires. you slowly open the door. 86, 87, 88, 89... robins? (one for every door?) they all stare at you within their enclosures, as either posters, figurines, or books cover. in the middle sat a familiar head of grey hair, lowered, back turned towards you.

"sunday?"

the head moves up. gradually, it creaks. never in your life, did you expect to see a robin-crazed hidden room, nor a red-faced sunday. oh robin, the brother you were so worried about, is actually your no.1 fan. sunday's halovian wings flap furiously, doing nothing to cool his face down. his expression seems annoyed to have been caught in the act. "... what?"

"is this your robin shrine?" this is it. this will be your revenge, and the beginning tastes sweet. "so, you're the real criminal out of the two of us."

one can imagine the fumes blowing out of his ears. his eyes glisten, on the verge of tears. oops, he's really embarrassed.

you turn your face away, allowing sunday as much privacy as possible within his very private room. or rather, you are avoiding his eyes to suppress laughter. "you're coming to robin's concert, right?"

"you coming?" you gesture towards your majestic truck. it's a beautiful night for a truck ride.

sunday, your victim, is reluctant, of course. he probably still believes that you are an assassin who will run him over. "i won't die, will i?"

you huff. "i'm just a truck driver. what's the worse i could do? kidnap you?" sunday stares at you, frightened. it does not take much for him to believe in your potential for evil. "it's a joke... i'm not a criminal. or an assassin."

"just for a few minutes," he resigns. score. you open the door for sunday, who eventually sits down. you start the engine.

"welcome." sunday is in your truck. what an achievement. heh. you place your foot on the pedal.

it is silent apart from the engine's buzzing. you hand sunday an unexpired bag of chips from the compartment. he receives it, inspecting the packaging. his eyes trail to the window, studying how the sunset paints penacony with autumn's palette, but beyond it, he is watching the dots of people. you watch the melancholic sunday.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

"nothing significant."

"well, the whole point of my trucking service is to listen to passengers." you turn the wheel. honestly, you don't know where you're going, and neither does sunday. the moon guides you tonight, two lost souls. "say anything."

sunday fiddles with the bag of chips. "...maintaining the oak family status, work, the people," he finally speaks, "it balances on my shoulders."

you hum, signalling him to continue.

"wouldn't a utopia free from suffering solve everything?"

quite a hard-hitting question for a truck driver, sunday. you nod. "of course. the only problem is that it is not real - everyone is forced into the current reality. it is harsh and cruel..." you blink. "but we are not powerless to it."

"how do you suggest we solve it?"

it is quiet for a moment before your mind wanders to every passenger you've had. they all had one thing in common. "i guess, a lot of people want a shoulder to lean on, an ear to open for them, and a voice to validate their feelings. we can do that."

all those passengers seemed to shine brighter at the end of the ride, ready to chase a dream. you may not be saving the world - you are no hero, just a truck driver - but you help tend the invisible wounds of people: the blood that drips from sharp words, the bruises that sting from deprecation, the headaches.

isn't it fine to take it slow? navigate the dark, little-by-little, and by the end, there will be an even brighter light.

"... i see." sunday watches your hands manoeuvre the truck's mechanics. the flick in your eyes that turn to him, to which he shies away from. then, he rests his eyes. as the truck drives, a silence hangs, one of quiet understanding. bit-by-bit, you gaze into sunday's heart.

it's been some time since you got run over.

adjusting to penacony was difficult at first. you had to adapt to life at the family's mansion, and the daily customs. however, the burden was eased slightly, all partly thanks to a special helper.

every morning, a cup of coffee or freshly-squeezed juice presents itself in the kitchen. every afternoon, your favourite bookshop always happens to have the book you wanted, already reserved for you. every night, your bedroom door slowly opens, quietly. your blanket, moves up to cover your torso. the mess in your room, rearranged and picked up. the back of a hand, feathers over your cheek. and nothing more happens. your little helper is easily satisfied at the sight of a peaceful you.

"does robin know about this room?" you are flipping through an ancient truck magazine.

sunday is wiping the display cabinets. his wings are flapping again, turning to you. "you didn't mention it to her, did you?"

"no, but she's going on tour soon after," you play with the corner of a page. "why don't you send her your encouragement?”

"what do you suggest?" he asks.

you look at the ceiling. it's full of robin's pictures. "a heartfelt letter? personally, i would buy her a truck but i don't think she needs that."

a small laugh escapes sunday's lips. you did not expect that. "that would be nice." he moves over to a desk, and from a drawer he pulls out a page adorned with blue flowers, and a pen.

you walk over to his desk. "you're into stationary?"

"i don't see why not," sunday says, "my work requires mostly writing, after all."

he begins from the top: 'dear sister,'. from there, sunday is a bit clumsy and awkward, asks her how the weather is and if she had breakfast. "... i've never done this before," is what he said. but gradually, the pen picks up, and the words flow. now, there was too much left unspoken when sunday reaches the final line, and had to cross out the sentence he was writing. a total of four pages, both sides filled, with more words waiting to be said - those would be left for when the siblings reunite.

"maybe we can have the people of penacony sign it too." you smile, imagining robin's elation when she reads it.

sunday nods. he scratches his signature and hands the paper to you. "here."

you take the pen, hesitant. "what's this for?"

sunday raises an eyebrow. "you're a citizen of penacony, are you not?"

... oh. were you? your throat dries. when did you become a part of penacony? weren't you... just a truck driver?

sunday watches you contemplate. a silence drawls. suddenly, he wraps his hand around yours, holding the pen still. "why are you hesitating?" nib meets page. ribbon by ribbon, the ink dances. "you belong here, don't you?"

your chest grows warm. you weren't expecting that either. full of surprises, aren't we? the same person that chained your hands and observed you, coldly answered to you, is offering his warmth. his hand is resolute, unwilling to let go. it reassure your doubts. you smile.

the pen lifts:

'from, your loving brother and, your dear friend.'

surprisingly, sunday has gotten comfortable with your presence in his forbidden robin cove. as you have with his in your magnificent truck.

yet, as much as you've driven closer, the gap is bottomless. sunday doesn't appreciate you looking at him, yet, he's allowed to drill holes in you when you're not aware?

you've asked robin, but she answered cryptically with a smile. "he used to watch over me as well, overprotective as always, but i'm sure that's his way of expressing himself when words fail him."

you reccount the passing moments.

a person more of action, lesser of words. for his people, he worked endlessly without their validation. for robin, he hid in the shadows of his much brighter devotion and support. for you, he let you slowly seep into his life, and you absorbed him into yours. a truck driver and an overqualified partner-in-crime.

quiet devotion is a tender song. without the beating of his loud commands, penacony would be left unprotected. without the instrumental scratching of his pen, there would be no light on the streets. without the percussive clicking of his shoes, the citizens would not be able to dance and celebrate.

this was sunday's song; no one else heard it, but it hums beneath the surface, invisible. those who press their ears against it can sense its vibrations. a silence that speaks louder than words or lyrics. and now, you can't mistake it, your heart beats to the silent song.

it is the night of robin's last stage in penacony. you and sunday stand on a balcony, watching over her. the final song sways along the night-caressed breeze, setting free the wings of hopeful listeners and dreamchasers.

though for a certain someone, he was using more of his eyes than ears. when you meet his golden pair, they turn away as usual.

"what's with you?" you lean against the railing.

his hands hide behind his back. "nothing significant."

"hey, i thought we were past that already. i told you i'm a truck driver who listen to their passengers."

silence hangs. a few more spoken words, "and? have you told your story?"

"me?"

his eyes find yours, but they don't turn away anymore. behind his role as penacony's figure and as a brother, it is sunday who is talking to you. in his gaze, it doesn't judge, impartial, waiting to listen, asking if it is okay for you to lend him your key.

he's come a long way into this journey. now, he awaits at your doorstep. the words catch in your throat. "i'm... just a truck driver..." you close your eyes. "a truck driver who got lost here."

sunday shakes his head. "i’m not asking about one miniscule part of your life. behind that is you who experienced a reality that built the person in front of me," his voice is shaky. an unsteady hand opens and closes, hopes to reach out for yours, but is uncertain. "i'm... asking for permission to learn all of you."

"..." robin's song is about to come to an end.

you look at the mirror. a mirror that always reflected only you, now fits one more person in the frame. that is your answer.

the you who is listening, reading, watching, all your past versions converge into this quiet meeting. usually, the mirror rejected, criticised, and distorted. but today, it finally listens. the mirror holds your reflection to be true. before you got to penacony, before you stood in the middle of a road, before you became a truck driver, you were...

"speak to me. i'm here to listen as you have for others." and keep that key to his heart, for it remains open unconditionally, always a place for you in there.

two losts souls, under the moon, found a home in each other.

a person closes the novel they were reading. they pick up their phone and start typing:

“-4.2/5 rating, absolute horror. where was robin at the end? i was waiting for her! and what’s with all the mirrors and life lessons? preeeeetty criiiinge. i'm reading a fantasy novel, not a lecture. why is mc even a truck driver anyways? also, not enough hand holding, and definitely not enough kissing. zero points!” this random nobody criticises, slamming fingers on the screen. they pause. “i wonder when the next volume will be released…”

a/n: great use of my holiday tbh, get everything out b4 i'm busy again💖i hate drawing hoyo charas they're so detailed, applause to all the hoyo artists u guys r goated fr i thought itd be cute to turn this into a series. i have some deleted ideas since i only wanted this to be a short piece (i got carried away smh). but tbh this fic ended off nicely, i dont think it needs continuing. idk. i like pistachio ice cream thanks for reading!!😲

[etapereine]

But what is the other one, white wolf?

The Sword of Destiny, Andrzej Sapkowski | 2021 Tour de France, Stage 17 | 2022 Tour de France, Stage 17 | 2023 Tour de France, Stage 15

All photos © Jered & Ashley Gruber

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[purerae]

— DUPLEXITY;;

fem!reader x coworker!yanderes

— who knew attempting to bond with your co workers would lead to a fucked up love triangle?

prologue; quit your job! If dying was an option right now, Y/N would take it with a gleeful smile.

Sprinting through the woods, her ears ringing, she slams her grimy, broken hand against her head over and over. Her knees, bruised to a swollen pulp of purple, threaten to buckle beneath her. A deep, unprotected gash dressed painfully across her back, its edges rotting, every movement tearing at the poorly dressed wound.

Ignoring the piercing whine in her ears, her heart froze at the sound of shuffling drawing closer. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out, but the surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her moving forward. An ear striking screech bursts from the girl’s throat, desperate to catch the attention of any passing drivers or hikers.

How could she be so foolish? It’s four in the morning, and she’s in the middle of nowhere, with two freaks relentlessly chasing her.

Her scream was a terrible mistake. It brought her no closer to freedom instead only closer to her pursuers. Their shouts echo behind her, filled with words she can’t—and doesn’t want to comprehend.

Pleas, threats, and bursts of anger escape from their mouths but the only thing that Y/N had her mind on was getting her brother and leaving this shithole. Y/N ran and ran, but to her dismay and an almost comical cruel sense of bad luck , Her vision was slammed with a wall ruined with graffiti that was now taunting her from her inescapable future. Her breathing slows as she stumbled back, desperately praying for anything that could save her. Surely they weren't close, she put in all this effort, they cannot be close! With trembling caution, she moved backward, her steps deliberate and silent. She avoided every brittle branch and insect littering the forest floor, straining to make as little noise as possible. Her back pressed into something soft yet unyielding, carrying the earthy scent of firewood mixed with the sharp tang of blood that she’ll always loathe.  Y/N’s breath hitched, frozen in her chest as the sound of heavy breathing enveloped her ears from just behind.

‘Fuck.'

“You can’t run from us. It’s two against one, cutie.”

Even with her back turned, she could picture his smug, shit-eating smirk. A chill ran down her spine as his arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, trapping her. God, she wished she had a bat so she could beat him till he was a lifeless piece of flesh that she could point and laugh at. Too bad that would never be possible, even if she had a weapon to begin with. Deep down, Y/N knew there was no escaping this. But with every ounce of strength her battered body could summon, she let out the loudest scream she could muster; a semblance of hope in her body that somebody could save her. It tore through the cold night air before everything turned black. The last thing she heard was another man's footsteps approaching them, and two voices she made an oath to never hear, conversing. All she wanted was a fucking pay raise.

-

-

- Y/N buttoned her blouse with a giddy smile, rushing around her room in search of the shoes she’d bought just for this day. "I can't believe I got the job! I'm so excited, this still feels so surreal."  she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm as she grabbed her phone, waiting for her friend’s response. "Girl, I'm happy for you!” her friend shouted over the line, her voice barely cutting through the loud music and chatter in the background. “Just work hard, and you’ll be promoted to detective in no time! My little Sherlock Holmes~” Y/N scoffs out a laugh before she shakes her head at the chaos on the other end. Normally, she’d lecture her friend about hosting a party at seven in the morning, but today, she was too nervous and way too excited about her first day to care. "Ahaha, Yeah  I don't know about that... I'm still in shock that I got the job to be the assistant, let alone be the main thing. I just hope the person in charge of me is nice." The E/C-eyed girl replied looking at the ceiling , nervously biting her nails whilst walking back and forth in her room.

"Don't stress about it! I'm sure they'll be nice, babes. And you should ju-" Y/N’s friend was abruptly cut off by a guy shouting in the background, his voice carrying over the music: “Ayra! Get back to the party already!” "Hold on a sec Noel! Im talking to Y/N" she yells back with an obvious scowl on her face… Well, Y/N was almost positive that she displayed one based on the tone of her voice. "It's fine! You go do your shit, I gotta’ finish getting ready." "Okay Okay, message me after your shift ends. I wanna know everything~!" The bubbly girl says as she mimics a kiss sound. Despite Ayra not being able to see Y/N, she smiles with a soft gaze at the phone before hanging up. Staring into the mirror, she carefully assessed her outfit. A sleek black blouse layered over a white undershirt paired perfectly with a matching black pencil skirt. Light makeup enhanced her features, and her neatly styled hair framed her face just right. She smoothed her clothes with her hands, beaming widely as she twirled in front of the mirror. Y/N gathered all her essentials, carefully packing them into her bag before stepping out of her apartment. She locked the door with a quick twist of the key, then paused to double-check it twice…just to be sure; it was a habit she had done ever since she lived in her parents home. 

Stepping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the ground floor. Knowing the ride would take a while, she lived on the second-highest floor, after all, she pulled out her phone to check the time. It was 7:15 a.m. Perfect. With the bus journey to the department taking only 30 minutes, she was right on schedule (which was always a struggle for her.) A grin spread across her face as she opened her email app and tapped on the message from the 'Warrens Department.' Her heart fluttered nervously as she re-read the letter, scanning each line to ensure she hadn’t missed anything important. As she scrolled to the bottom, her brows furrowed. There, tucked away, was a link she hadn’t noticed before.

'Shit I must've missed this' She thought with worry before quickly clicking the link, silently thanking her instincts for prompting her to double-check the message. The link was a profile of the detective that she would be working with. Looking at the picture, she notices that he was a very conventionally attractive male. The formally dressed girl squints her eyes before assessing the man that her eyes laid upon.

Xavier Allette, it read. Twenty-five years old, with five years of experience as a detective.

‘Holy shit, he became a detective at 20? I was still in university then.’ Y/N’s thoughts wandered briefly as she reminisced about her own journey, a flicker of envy stirring as she compared herself to her boss.

Letting out a breath of relief that she didn't know she had; The assistant was expecting an old cruel man as her boss, but to her luck, it was someone of a similar age to her. And, as a bonus, he wasn’t bad to look at either.

Y/N knew better than to judge someone based on their appearance, but as her cheeks warmed, she couldn’t help but blush at the handsome face staring back at her from the screen. A straight pale face, with a clean-shaven look. His hair was a wavy deep black, tussled formally. Eyes sharp and matched with his extremely dark hair. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the absence of a glint or any sign of life in his pupils. ‘I’m overthinking it,’ she told herself. ‘He’s just posing for the picture’. It had to be her psychology degree kicking in, making her analyze every feature of his face like a subject in a case study. Xavier’s nose was strikingly defined, and his lips were full, holding a slightly warm tint that gave his serious expression a subtle softness. Though he was wearing a suit, anyone could tell the detective worked out as his jaw was sharp and his shoulders were broad. It was clear that he took good care of himself.

The only other information displayed on his profile was a list of the cases he had worked on and details about his educational background. 'Maketa Academy?!' That was the most prestigious high school that Y/N had ever heard of. You could either get in with a scholarship or a lot of money. Unfortunately for her, she had been neither crazy smart nor crazy rich, so attending a place like that had never been an option. Y/N couldn’t tell whether Xavier had gotten in through wealth or intellect, but either way, it was impressive. Her train of thought abruptly halted as the elevator chimed, signaling her arrival on the first floor.

Turning off her phone, She exits the building before walking a short distance to the bus so she could arrive at the destination where she was going to be working.

'Please be nice to me, Warrens Department.'

-

-

-

Y/N rushed out of the bus, the clock read 8:00 am. The bus kept on delaying because of the traffic that the driver faced. The 15 minutes that she was hoping she had left to spare, disappeared all because of not getting a driver's licence! Cursing at herself, she ran to the building that was two minutes away. She could get there in ten seconds, her stubbornness is saving her life today.

The girl stared in awe at the building for a second. It was massive and incredibly modern. A large sign labelled Warrens Department was placed right in the middle of the building. Shaking her head, she scans the key card that came into the mail a week ago and fixes any loose hairs before walking into the building.

8:01 am, Already a minute late, though not much of a difference, she didn't want to disappoint her boss on the first day. Power walking to the reception she sighs shyly before speaking up. "Hi!" Her voice cracks.

'Oh my god, first I'm late, now my voice cracks, I should just quit my job and leave this e-' "Hello! Who’re  you? I've never seen you before?" The ginger girl behind the desk questioned loudly. Her light southern accent peeked through. The red-haired was incredibly short, her face caked with pink-themed makeup matching her formal pink outfit. Y/N thought the receptionist was cute and seemed nice too! If she wasn't too busy stressing about being late, she'd love to be her friend. "I'm the detective's new assistant— Xaviers Allette's assistant." Y/N rambles, hands shaking with nerves.

"Y/N L/N?" The receptionist questioned with eyebrows raised, Y/N nods quickly and shows her key card to the lady. "I'm Abigail!" her smile drops, "Also, you should probably head over to his office quickly, Mr Allette hates tardiness.. a lot." It was now Y/N's turn for her face to drop, she mumbles a quick thank you before running off.She stops in her tracks as she realised her stupid mistake. "Hey Abigail, what's his room number?" Y/N spoke rushing back to the desk. Reaching halfway, the red-haired girl puts her hand out, ordering her to stop running back. "It's on the second floor, room 11, hurry!" She yells, shaking her hand. The late assistant puts a thumbs up as a way of saying thank you before completely ignoring the elevator and rushing up the stairs. Turning left she finds the room that is the lead detective. On the door, a silver plate is shown with  'Room 11' and 'Xavier Allette' engraved onto them in a fancy font.. It was clear that his room was the biggest on the floor.

Wiping the sweat off her hands and re-checking herself on the reflection of the plate, she checks the time. 

8:05 am.

Y/N knocks on her boss's door. The door opens automatically, she notices the man that was just on her screen almost an hour ago, sitting down with his eyes furrowed and lips pulled into a frown.  His eyes were fixated on his computer screen, fist propped against his chin. The assistant looks around while patiently waiting for him to say something.

20 seconds passed and all that she could hear were the sounds of him typing. the h/c hair-coloured girl clears her throat.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Y/N L/N, and Im p-"

"You're late." A deep, harsh voice cuts her off. 

A/N : New story :p !! i really like the plot for this one and will have a masterlist out for it soon!

[randomshyperson]

Sanctify - Cult Leader!Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Kinktober #06

Summary: After your worst semester at NYU, your Aunt Agatha convinces you to join the Children of Chaos as an alternative, and very expensive form of therapy. Leaving the cult becomes a very difficult task when you develop an unexpected affection for their leader.

Warnings: (+18), dom!wanda and brat!reader, rough smut, face-fucking, power dynamics, brat taming (ish), praising, lots of tension and teasing, definitely blasphemous on some levels, a lot of plot, mentions of past toxic relationship, unspecified age gap.  | Words: 7.900k

A/N-> I’ve been dying to write something about Cult Leader Wanda since I watched the second season of Yellowjackets and became obsessed with Lottie Matthews, so while writing this, I was picturing Lottie’s cult to be fair. I also like how I ended this, as it makes it possible to turn it into a series. Good reading!

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Although the movement of the car brought a gentle breeze through the window, the weather was hot enough to actually make thinking painful.  In an attempt to relieve the temperature a little, and perhaps escape Aunt Aggie's provocative reminiscences about the long journey and the events that made this trip necessary in the first place, you put your arm on the door, and propped your chin up, your face on the safety edge outside the window.

New York had been out of sight for hours and had given way to countless trees and a plantation further and further away. You figured it wouldn't take long for the radio signal to stop working, but to your pleasant surprise, the soft melody of cassette tapes hidden in the glove compartment by Nicholas were picked up once that happened.

Your cousin had grown up over the summer - His still youthful appearance now featured neatly cut curly hair and reading glasses that he often hung on the collar of his shirt. When younger, it was common to hear how much he resembled Sir. Scratch, his scumbag father in the words of Agatha and the other adults, not yours - but over time, he looked much more like his mother.

Nick met your gaze through the rearview mirror and gave you an assuring smile. You didn't reciprocate, but not because you were upset. Just because you were distracted by the huge sign coming around the next corner. 

"Oh, boy, I've missed this place." Agatha commented with a nostalgic sigh, as soon as she noticed the entrance plaque. She slowed down enough that the wind wasn't enough anymore, so you returned to your original position with a low snort.

"There's still time to turn around." You muttered, getting a warning look from the older woman.

She leaned over, without answering you, to grab something from the open glove compartment. You pushed your hair back as a pamphlet was dropped into your lap.

"I know you hated the idea, but you need to trust your elders for once in your life, darling." Agatha began, as you grimaced at the crumpled paper. The title Children of Chaos was painted in red, but it was faded in several places. "The 70s were the apex for this place, I had a lot of fun here. It's such a unique experience, connecting with nature and the chaos that is part of us all."

Nick chuckled through his nose. "Mom, don't start your witch thing again, you'll scare her." Mocked your cousin from the passenger seat, but Agatha waved him off.

"She'll thank me when she gets there, I'm sure." 

But you didn't do that. When the car finally came to a stop, and what looked more like a fancy farm merged with the forest took over your vision, all you did was crumple the Immersive Community pamphlet into your pocket and throw your old backpack over your shoulder.

Aunt Aggie and your cousin hugged you tightly, saying they were going to write, but they couldn't get past the reception desk since they weren’t part of the program. You saw Agatha take your mom’s borrowed credit card out of her purse to start your so-called treatment, and the last goodbyes left your tongue before one of the tutors started the tour of the place.

In between presenting a large number of different huts that served as dormitories and classrooms for the most diverse activities - painting, handicrafts or poetry were the ones you memorized - Mr. Emil Blonsky also took the time to welcome you, emphasizing how incredible the community was and how lucky anyone was to be there. You bit your tongue to keep from telling him that only those with money could.

Finally, Blonsky showed you the stables and greenhouses on the edge of the property, and on the way back to the rest of the huts, you noticed the path up the hill.

"And what's up there?" 

The man stopped walking with a small smile. He was wearing clothes very similar to those of the other people you'd seen on the tour, the difference being a golden necklace with a strange symbol that was hidden by the movement of his loosely buttoned shirt.

"We must not go up there without permission." He begins, although he's smiling, there's something in his gaze that says this rule cannot be disrespected. " The Prophetess' Retreat is a sacred place of peace and reflection." 

You look back at the hut at the bottom of the mountain, far enough away that you can't make out the decorations on the balcony, but still beautiful and quiet, high enough to make it look like the prophet had her own little piece of heaven.

"So, no bothering the boss without asking? Got it." You retort, getting a chuckle from the other at the summary. He starts walking again along the path towards the general area, but you can't help the curiosity burning in your chest. "About this prophet, will she be isolated up there or will I get a chance to meet her?"

Blonsky walks up beside you, and looks you in the eye to say; "You'll meet her when it's time to meet her, not early and not late."

You don't know what to say to that, everything here is so theatrical in a way. Mystical, you might say. It suits Aunt Aggie so well, that it's not hard to imagine her here, dancing to the midnight moon and talking to the trees. She already does that in New York, it should have been much simpler in the middle of the forest.

"Come, child. You must start the cleaning process soon." Announces the man as he picks up the pace on the trail. With a sigh, you decide not to contradict him by saying that you bathed before coming, thank you. 

It was soon revealed that the cleansing process really meant a bath - the colleagues around you who helped you laughed when you joked that it was a strange way of saying that someone stinks, before clarifying that it was nothing of the sort. The Cleansing Process was a bath of salts and herbs, in a tub of stones and some kind of botanical baptism, the latter of which only members who had completed thirteen full moons could take part in. You would be invited to the baptism with the prophet's blessing, but there was still a long way to go.

Blonsky handed your uniforms, and explained the last rules before leaving you alone, or almost, since your hut was shared with six other people, and despite this, it seemed very comfortable and organized. There were bunk beds and private bathroom spaces, and at least three spacious shelves for each. The latter wouldn't be of much use to you, since you'd brought almost nothing and the vast majority of your belongings had been left at NYU. Just thinking about that place gave you a terrible stomach ache: You would have skipped dinner, but the mere suggestion of not attending made one of your colleagues frown in concern and repeat the rules, so you ended up giving that up.

The routine that followed was calm: it didn't surprise you that the new members were responsible for the hardest tasks, and it didn't bother you either. You were never afraid of hard work, and keeping your hands busy also helped to calm your mind, so it was a win-win. Besides, even if you didn't get the jobs nobody wanted, all veterans had chores. There was some rule about the amount of service time and dedication being rewarded, so those senior members could choose what they wanted to do first. 

You didn't have to worry about this anyway: you would do what you had to do because, after all, the agreement was to stay here only for the summer. However, with each passing day away from exams, traffic, and New York's typical filth, it became harder to imagine leaving the Children of Chaos and their strange harmony and kindness.

After three weeks in the group, you learned to knit. You also earned the privilege of mail when you showed up for all your appointments without delay and decided to check the items in the privacy of your cabin during the last hour of prayer.

Since you hadn't yet found your faith or received your calling or whatever weird way Blonsky explained this, you barely joined in the prayer sessions. This evening, excited to receive news from home, was no different.

Aunt Aggie wrote about the store doing well and mentioned your mother, who didn't write to you with more than vague words about hoping you'd feel better soon. The best present was hidden in Nicholas' letter about the university being a sack without his favorite cousin. Wrapped in silk and next to a lighter.

You haven't earned the right to write outside yet - something about a month in isolation to accomplish. So you just clutched the items to your chest and wished your cousin knew how grateful you were.

Your initial intention was to save the weed for some more stressful day - which was rare in the leisurely pace of this place - but the last letter made you consider using it all that night.

The recipient's perfect handwriting, and the address you knew by heart. You didn't even open the item, you put it away in your drawer and stood up with the weed hidden in your pants pocket.

The common area was empty, as the vast majority of your colleagues were praying. You stepped up to one of the bonfires and threw the unopened letter into the flames, without hesitation and without caring to see it burn. You turned on your heels and continued along the trail, heading for one of the few more secluded spots you had discovered during the hours of exploring between tasks.

The rules were clear about the prophet's hut but said nothing about the road towards it. And since apparently everyone there was afraid of upsetting the boss, that spot was always empty and the perfect place to smoke in hiding.

You leaned against a tree, curled up and lit the weed, and tried to keep away all the painful memories about last semester that the damn letter had brought up.

You were halfway through a joint when you heard a voice at the end of the trail next to you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

"Jesus fucking Christ." You gasped, jumping with fright and almost dropping the blunt to the ground. You looked sideways abruptly, imagining that you were hallucinating because of the weed, and were almost sure that you were when the words escaped you due to the apparition in front of you. The most beautiful woman you've ever seen in your life. Instead of a uniform, she wore a loose dark wine dress that hugged her curves perfectly; her long red hair cascaded down her shoulders and back and her emerald eyes shone curiously in your direction. The dim light from the fire lamps scattered along the trail and the moon really made the woman look like an angel. 

You coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, you scared me." You clarified, the cigarette hidden behind your back a stupid attempt to mask what you were doing. Sure enough, your pupils were dilated, and it was very easy to see the smoke. So, as soon as you tried to hide it, you gave up, offering the woman an awkward chuckle and gesturing the cigarette gently. "Don't tell on me."

There was a soft pause, which you couldn't tell from the intoxication in your system. The woman watched for a moment as the charming gesture of bringing the cigarette to the smile formed on your lips and blew the smoke into the starry sky with your neck slightly stretched. Your mind seemed to clear, and before the woman could speak, you grimaced. "Wait, didn't you just say my name? How..?"

She smiled, folding her hands in front of her body. "It was premeditated that we met today, of course. I'm Wanda."

You've heard her name before, in conversation circles and in advertisements about her heavenliness hanging around. 

"Shit." It was your natural reaction, which made her laugh softly, and it must have been the weed's fault that the sound echoed in your mind and made your body shudder.

"Don't worry, I won't snitch on you." She assures you with an easy smile playing on her lips, and you swallow dry, completely at a loss.

"Thanks... but I thought you were the boss." You mumble, and Wanda makes a funny expression, like a false realization. 

"Oh, you're right." She murmurs amusedly. "I think I can let this one slide if you'll share it with me." 

"Fuck, of course, here." Your limbs feel strange, almost too heavy to move around her. You awkwardly hand her the cigarette, certain that your face is flushed. Hell, the last time you were this clumsy was last semester, with-

"You swear a lot." Wanda's comment pulls you out of your daze. She takes a long drag before adding: "Especially for a Christian."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "My father's a Christian, not me." You retort, and end up grimacing. "And how do you know-"

"This is a very exclusive program, sweetheart." Wanda cuts you off again, the cigarette between her fingers but her gaze is completely focused on your face. "Having a lot of money or being someone's niece isn't enough to guarantee you a spot, but a good letter of recommendation might. And Agatha wrote me almost everything about you, except the reason for rushing to get you here before the next recruitment period."

The sentence was an invitation for you to speak, but you didn't fall for the bait. On the contrary, you looked away with tense shoulders, and Wanda didn't press. At least, not now. She took another drag before commenting more softly:

"We have general meetings every Wednesday. We encourage members to open up." 

You grimace softly. "Group therapy isn't my thing."

But Wanda smiles lopsidedly, giving you back the joint. " Neither is nice weed." She retorts a little provocatively, attracting your attention. "If you want to try something new, show up next week. And if you want to try something good, you should try the weed from our greenhouse. It won't taste like crushed dirt." Adjusting her hair around her shoulders, she offers you a wink. "Have a good night, darling."

You think about the color of her eyes for the rest of the night.

-&-

Sooner than you'd expect, you'll discover that Wanda isn't the type to let things slide. Far from it, she notices everything, especially those who are being too slack and prone to not following the teachings of the Children of Chaos, possibly ruining their record of total efficiency or something.

She puts an end to your plans for a quiet summer, trying to go unnoticed among the countless other followers just as abruptly as she left her meditation hut. Wanda seems to appear at every moment that you consider escaping from your commitments - it even occurs to you that she has a particular interest in watching you, but the idea sounds so absurd that you push it away while forcing a polite smile before returning to your duties.

Less than two weeks after you met, you finally stopped avoiding Group Therapy and showed up on time to join the session. The presence of Wanda, in a loose dark purple dress and her red hair tied up in a neat braid, makes you almost give up, convinced that you couldn't say anything without stuttering in the presence of such a stunning woman.

But she offers a gentle smile, opening her arms softly. "Come along, darling, you're just in time." She greets and you stumble towards a corner in the background, begging the gods that you can attend in silence this time.

It doesn't seem so difficult when it's other people doing it. A young man with whom you've already shared the task of looking after the stables spoke of the frustrations of returning from enforced service with a missing limb, and how the support he didn't get from the government and family members, he found here. Bucky received a finger-snapping applause - something that was explained to you as a way to avoid triggers on the countless ex-combatants or victims of post-traumatic stress that make up the crowd - before giving his turn to another ex-military woman, Carol Danvers.

More stories were shared until Wanda's gaze fell on your slumped figure and she called your name. All the attention in the room fell on you too, and you chuckled awkwardly.

"Thanks, but I'm not good at public speaking." You retorted, but Wanda, with her hands folded over her stomach, gave you a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about it, dear, this is a no-judgment zone." She says, but you make no mention of getting up, and her gaze becomes more insistent. "It's important that we all make an effort to be present at these exercises. We encourage participation around here. Come along, dear, please." And she smiled so kindly that you could only trust her.

The group offered a small chorus of encouragement, and before you knew it, you were a few steps away from the redhead, who held out her hands for your wrists.

"I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes." Wanda guided, her melodic voice bringing goose bumps all over your body. "Turn all your attention inward. And tell me, is there anything in there that you'd like to share with the group?"

The memories of last semester hit you full force. But Wanda massages your wrists and it feels as if she can calm down the whole storm inside of you.

You sigh, before opening your eyes. "I... I don't know where to start." Your whisper is met by another chorus of support from the members, who retort that you're safe. Wanda releases your wrists to sit with the others, and you try not to be so self-conscious while you're in the spotlight. "I think I can share with you the reason why I'm here." You declare a moment later, taking another deep breath.

Bucky gives you an encouraging smile, mimicking that of the people around him, and you swallow.

"I don't have a history of fighting and overcoming war or any illnesses, so I'm sorry to disappoint anyone." You mumble, receiving confused looks.

The former sergeant assures you: "No problem competes with another. All our pains have their importance." And it seems to be something that has already been repeated here a few times because everyone shakes their heads in agreement.

You scratch the back of your head awkwardly. "Right... well, I won't beat around the bush. A month ago, when I was first enrolled here, I had just been kicked out of my house. Well, it wasn't exactly my house anymore, because I'd been living on campus for about three years, but I think you get the idea." You say, laughing awkwardly at the anxiety in your chest. You try to clear your throat so that your voice doesn't come out so shaky, but only Wanda's gaze really helps to calm your nerves. "And the reason for this was a relationship that my parents, more specifically my mother, didn't approve of. To be fair, no one really approved, because, well, the person... hm, I don't think there's any other way to put it, was another woman. An older woman, and also my professor. And well, the whole thing would have been a scandal anyway, but I really let myself believe that when the worst was over, we'd be fine. Bad news, we weren't." You laugh sadly. You pause, imagining that you'll get judgmental looks, but everyone listens attentively. "For a while, I thought the worst part was afterward. When everyone knew and judged me, and how my mother freaked out, and I tried... but no. The worst part was not realizing what that love if I can call it that, was doing to me. How ill it was making me. And until I got here, learned things about myself, and managed to take a break from everything that was left behind... For a while, I really hoped to go back and fix everything, but now... damn, sometimes I don't even think about leaving this place."

The group celebrates quietly, exchanging words of encouragement. Your ears feel warm, and Wanda stands up again. "You can stay as long as you need, darling." She says, massaging your forearm. She calls someone else to speak, but doesn't miss the opportunity to whisper in your ear: "I'm proud, stay a little longer today, I want to talk to you." 

And you think you haven't absorbed anything for the rest of the morning.

Eventually, the session ends, and as soon as the room is empty, Wanda turns her face towards you.

"You were brave today, sweetheart." 

Your hands, busy putting the cushions away, tremble a little. But you offer her an incredulous chuckle.

"Yeah, right." It's your answer, which makes Wanda frown in curiosity. At her inquisitive silence, you sigh before clarifying: "Everyone's nice, but I know it's kind of silly that my big trauma is a break-up and not post-traumatic stress from war or something that actually matters."

Wanda presses her lips together, studying you for a moment, and you take the opportunity to put away the last of the cushions. Suddenly, she says:

"This lack of respect for your own feelings comes from parental negligence, I suppose."  You turn your face away in surprise, but Wanda gives you a small smile: "James wasn't lying when he said that no pain should compete with another. We all have our internal and external battles, and we shouldn't belittle our pain. I believe we should honor it, and wear it. And here, dear, you will learn to do that." Wanda makes her way around to one of the cupboards at the back, and you watch her movements in silence, from reaching into one of the last drawers to returning to you with an item in hand. "I have an invitation for you."

She opens the box she's brought, and inside is a necklace very similar to the one the instructors wear. The main difference is the symbol, the crown that Wanda also carries on the pendant around her neck. You frown in confusion.

"What is it?"

She wraps the item between her fingers, her gaze on you. "The disciple's necklace. The last one from the current solstice." 

You imitate the gesture, touching the item with the tips of your fingers. Wanda doesn't move her hand away as your fingers brush together, and you ignore your own shyness as you watch her bite her lip for a moment. "I don't understand what it means."

She licks her lips, and the movement doesn't go unnoticed by your eyes. "It means that you would be my apprentice. You would accompany me during periods of meditation, you would study my teachings closely, you would be... entirely dedicated to..."

"You?" you add, and Wanda lets out a shuddering breath, warm against your cheek. When did she get so close?

"If you wish." She whispers, and you pull away gently, your face hot but the last thread of sanity in your mind.

"I'm sure there are more experienced members dying for this position. It wouldn't be right-"

Wanda shakes her head, interrupting you. "They weren't chosen. You were." She assures you, pressing the box with the necklace against your chest. "And if it wasn't you, the place would be empty until the next solstice. You don't have to accept it, darling. It's not a summons. It's an invitation."

You sigh, holding the box against your chest. "I just... I've never done anything like this. I don't want to mess things up."

There's a bell in the distance, signaling the start of the next activities. Wanda glances outside briefly before stepping close enough to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes your whole body heat up at once.

"Just listen to your instincts." She whispers, before pulling away with a small smile.

You write to Agatha about it the following evening, but you don't have the courage to seal the letter for sending. The whole conversation with Wanda seems too private to be shared in this way. 

Although the woman said it was just an invitation, you could feel some pressure to make a decision, and it seems that the news had been circulating ever since one of the tutors couldn't find the box of the last chaos disciple pendant, and Wanda ended up mentioning that she had extended another invitation.

In a way, you were stalling. Between your activities and meetings, you hadn't made any decisions and you hoped that the end of the summer would force Wanda to choose someone else. But there was also the question of the new, burning feelings that had appeared since you first laid eyes on her, and which seemed to awaken every time you two were in the same environment. 

The idea of departing, of leaving her behind like a closed chapter in your life, seemed absurd every passing day.

In your second month with the Chaos Children, you received a rather unusual request: take the prophet her morning drink.

The crumpled piece of paper was handed to you by one of your cabin mates: Kate Bishop. A former student, a little younger than you, who, after destroying a bell at the university, was sent here by her millionaire mother. Kate was to stay until she had balanced her irresponsible impulses and could take over the family's security empire.

She seemed a little reluctant to interrupt your concentration on cleaning the garden, but much more determined not to disappoint Wanda.

"Just give it to the kitchen staff, they'll know what to do. And prioritize, she doesn't like to wait." Said the girl, but you gave her hand a gentle tug before taking the paper.

"But why did she ask me?" you asked, but Kate had no idea and just shrugged before leaving the garden.

While the kitchen staff prepared the item, you tried to improve your appearance in the bathroom next to the lounge, wiping all the soil from the plants from under your fingers, and even what had run into your cheeks. 

When you came out, there was another order on the counter and a small group of people who hadn't been there before. They didn't see you. Blonsky, accompanied by two other women you didn't know, were talking to each other.

"I bet it was Carter. She hasn't stopped talking about her private piano lessons with the Prophetess for four whole weeks." Said the first, but the other laughed quietly.

" Sharoon is a simp, that's all. Wanda wouldn't choose her after the episode with Rogers last year, she knows she can't trust her." Rebutted the other. "Besides, I would have assumed it was Bishop, after all, she already acts like a maid. Why train another when you already have one so dedicated?" The women laugh amongst themselves until they finally notice you approaching, and fall silent. Blonsky smiles, but he appears very vicious. 

"Hello, miss. Wouldn't you like to have a say in who our next disciple is?" He asks you, but you shrug, moving forward in the queue in front of the canteen to grab the prophet's items that were clearly being prepared in priority. 

"I don't know anything about it." That's your answer, but the shorter woman gets in your way.

"Come on, dear, it's easy." She begins with a giggle. "Every solstice, the prophetess chooses her disciples. There are 24 of them, 12 of whom will become apostles after their apprenticeship."

You grimace softly. "It's very biblical."

Blonsky chuckles. "Of course, it is, despite the multiculturalism of our group, Wanda was raised in a Jewish Christian home. You're not going to tell me you didn't know that?"

You clear your throat. "Not really. Sorry, I have to run."

But the man puts a hand in your way, only to stretch his body out on the counter and reach for some colored leaves that he crushes and drops into Wanda's glass.

"She likes it this way. I would know, I prepared many when I was her houseboy for the first few weeks here." He says, and you swallow dry, mumbling an awkward thank you before hurrying off.

The path is a little tiring, you think it makes sense of Wanda's physique if she had to climb that trail every day, and you mentally curse yourself for thinking about her body. It's not at all appropriate, honestly.

The door is open, but you knock anyway. The woman inside, wearing her typical long, loose dresses at the edge, is busy finishing a loose fringe in her hair and offers you a smile.

"Come in, dear." 

You do so a little awkwardly, almost overwhelmed by the moment of entering the most private place in the whole camp. It's a beautiful cabin, you let her know, without stopping to admire the perfectly arranged surroundings. You would have thought that the privacy of this place would allow her to make some kind of personal mess, but everything is impeccably in place.

Wanda approaches to pick up the items, and the smile falters on her face at the first sip of her drink.

"Did you put... did you put maca root in this?" She asks, and your natural reaction is a short laugh.

"I didn't prepare it, Wanda."

But she doesn't smile again, her tone of voice remains the same but her attitude changes to one of false kindness. "My morning drink is an ashwagandha. I need my concentration to increase, not my libido." It really sounded like a scolding, and her attitude of handing the cup back to you, accompanied by the memory of the recent events, made your blood boil.

"Well, I'm not your fucking maid, so if it's not good, get another one downstairs, or even better, make it one yourself."

It's the first time you see any kind of fury in her gaze, hot and vibrant, and it makes something in you rouse. Your mention of leaving the cabin is prevented by her hands closing the door and trapping you against the wood.

Wanda takes a deep breath, and the gleam in her eyes changes. "Can I ask... where did this attitude come from?"

You hold the glass tightly against your body, very aware that you'll drop it if Wanda doesn't step away and let you breathe. "I just want to make things clear." You retort with a seriousness that doesn't do justice to the way your heart is racing. "I didn't come to this place to be your personal servant."

Wanda chuckles briefly, letting her gaze drop to your mouth. "Oh, of course not, darling." She whispers. "You're not the type to follow orders willingly. You'd do a terrible job."

Swallowing dryly, you retort: "And why am I here then?"

Wanda smiles innocently. "I asked you to bring my drink." It's her reply, clearly trying to tease you, and you snort impatiently.

"I bet you expected an answer. Well, I haven't made up my mind yet, so if there's nothing else, I'll just go."

Wanda moves to take the glass from you and put it on the table by the door. The next second, her hands are in yours.

"Don't be silly, of course, there's another reason." She retorts, pulling you along as she walks backward into the cabin. "I hear you love painting."

What you had assumed was her personal painting canvas is offered to you. The laugh that escapes you is shy and genuine.

"Wanda, I don't... paint anymore."

But she doesn't flinch, her hands still in yours. "I know you haven't since last semester. It was in the letter. But you've progressed so much, that I thought you could paint for me." When you don't answer, she makes such an adorable expression that your heart skips a beat. "Please?"

Wanda definitely knows how beautiful she is, and how those puppy-dog eyes can take her anywhere. You bite back a smile, agreeing, and almost forget to breathe when she jumps excitedly onto your neck, hugging it for a whole moment before letting go as if she hadn't turned you into a complete mess with one touch.

She doesn't complain about the cocktail again - instead, she drinks it entirely while you get comfortable on the painting stool, doodling for a few moments before starting to paint the only thing you could after so many months without touching a paintbrush.

It's only when the drawing is clearer on the frame that Wanda becomes restless again. Loud sighs take your attention away from the painting and towards her.

"Is something wrong?"

She smiles half-heartedly, and only now do you notice the soft color of her cheeks. "I shouldn't have ignored my own complaints and drunk that juice."

You frown in confusion, letting the brush rest next to the paints. "Was it that bad? If you want, I'll complain to the kitchen-"

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head and you have to shut up because she reaches over to push the canvas out of the way and stops right in front of you, close enough to touch.

"Remember what I said? About focus and about... my libido." She asks, and you can swallow dryly, looking up in the direction of her dilated eyes. She lets her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing the weight of her body gently into yours. "Well, I suppose you'll have to see for yourself. Hold out your hand sweetheart, no, no, down... yes, you can move my dress out of the way." Your trembling fingers brushed against her knee, and immediately obeyed the order. Slowly making your way under her dress, while Wanda bit her lip and watched you draw patterns on her thighs. Finally, your fingers reached the side of her underwear. Instead of pulling it down, you let the inks drop to the ground, and your other hand went under her dress too, repeating the same path as before while you and Wanda panted together. Your face fell forward, flush into her dress, and you pressed your nose against her, inhaling deeply the scent of arousal she exhaled so strongly.

Her hands squeezed your shoulders as yours began to pull down her panties right away. A moment later, gracefully as everything so far, she kicked the item aside and spread her legs gently so that you could slide your fingers between more easily.

You looked up the second your index finger met her warmth, gasping at the mischievous smile of the woman in front of you.

"All this time I've been here..." You started hoarsely, your fingers spreading the wetness between her folds, and enjoying the way Wanda's breath caught in her throat. "Were you this wet?" 

Despite the failure of her own breathing, and the way it's harder to stand up with your intimate stimulation, Wanda gives you a mischievous look and leans her forehead against yours, her red hair making a curtain between your faces. 

"I get like this every time I'm around you." She confesses, giving you a provocative tug on your lower lip that forces you to thrust inside her with more determination. Almost enough for her to lose her pose. Almost. "It's disconcerting, to be honest."

Your thumb presses down firmly on her clit, and Wanda almost buckles into you, the delicious sound that escapes her throat will be in your dreams for sure. "Well, should I apologize, high sanctity?"

She chuckles at the teasing hidden in the nickname, before leaning in completely and capturing your mouth in a fervent kiss that takes you out of orbit for a whole moment, intense enough for you to whimper into her tongue, and force her hips down into yours, practically begging her to grind your lap. Wanda's response to this is a dirty giggle mixed with a moan into your mouth.

Without breaking the kiss that turns into a much hungrier one the next second, you get to your feet, adjusting your hands to grab her thighs to pull her onto your lap and carry her around the room. Between stumbles, you press each other against the various surfaces of the room, tables, and cupboards, exchanging increasingly hot and desperate kisses, and you're pretty sure you're going to have Wanda against the bookshelf if she keeps grinding into your abdomen like that.

In a pause for breath, when she's still wedged between you and the bookcase, your mouth descends on her jaw and Wanda struggles to keep her eyes open. She whimpers shamelessly as your curious hands advance down her body, pulling her dress out of the way and leaving it barely hanging off her body for you to clasp your palms over her now-bare breasts.

Her patience for release is quickly exhausted by the precise stimulation of her breasts, your eager fingers teasing and pinching her nipples until you turn her into a whimpering mess. She gives a determined tug on the hair at the nape of your neck, forcing your face back to hers in a hard, dirty kiss that makes you shudder. She breaks it only to give an order: 

"On your knees." And you groan in obedience, falling to the floor almost at once, desperately pulling her dress aside to force your face into her, now with nothing in the way. Wanda arches her back once your hot mouth finds her drenched cunt; her hands desperate for some kind of support on the shelves behind her, while her chest heaves and her hips are restless against your face. 

Your hungry mouth leisurely devours her, your tongue teasing her folds, spreading her wetness around and making a mess on your face. Your closed eyes show your dedication and surrender to the task, but Wanda tugs at your hair again, trying to gain a little control back and order you to quit the teasing and fuck her the way she needs you to. Fully dilated Irises then confronts her from between her legs, and Wanda loses her breath. 

"Beautiful." She panted, staring back, shamelessly grinding herself into your face. "So beautiful... fuck... on your knees for me... oh, God, detka." She struggles to compliment you, but her native language begins to escape mixed with English shortly afterward, her climax approaching. You moan contentedly at the scene, aware of the state of your own underwear from all this play. Wanda's body begins to betray her, trying to pull away so you grab her thighs with a strong grip, and one of her legs ends up over your shoulder, increasing your reach just the way she needs it to fall over the edge.

Wanda comes on your tongue, spasming against the books, and in a deep moan. You don't let her pull away, keeping her restless hips in place as you lick your way through her previous climax in search of a new one. Soon her whimpering protests at the overstimulation turn into begging, and you fail to hide the smug smile at feeling her so at your mercy for a second time.

She's so close, so close, that the Sokovian comes back to her tongue, but there's a sudden knock on the door, and all the stimulation is interrupted by your fright. Wanda gasps incredulously, losing the time to react in time due to her own lust, and having to watch you stumble away - quickly wiping her cum from your chin with the back of your hand - as she tries not to fall down on her shaking knees.

"Why the fuck did you stop?" she asks in frustration through her teeth, but you, with a very flushed face, look at her with a certain desperation.

"Wanda, there's someone at the door!" You retort as if it were a very justifiable reason to steal an orgasm from her. Wanda huffs angrily, lunging at you and ignoring your confused eyes to pull you upright by the collar of your shirt, hurriedly throwing you onto the mattress. "W-wanda, what?"

"Quiet." She cuts in, pushing your shoulders until you're lying down and following the movement of your body to straddle your lap. The person outside knocks again, and although she's pulling her off, and is still shaking from her last orgasm, Wanda manages to speak in the same tone of voice as she does every morning meeting: "What is it?"

Your protests are muffled when Wanda sits on your face, and in fact, you would have forgotten any guests if Blonsky's voice hadn't sounded in the next second.

"Good morning, Reverend, I've come to join you for today's service." Says the man, but Wanda has to bite her lip hard because you're eating her out again, somehow even better than before. "Reverend?"

Wanda shakes her head, frowning at the difficulty of maintaining a rational thought when she has your tongue inside her. "Hm, I'm not going today, Blonsky... Deliver the service in my place." She fails to sound so breathless and has to close her eyes when your hands grip her thighs tightly, holding her down. 

Blonsky then sounds concerned: "Aren't you feeling well, Reverence?"

Your nose nuzzles into her clit and Wanda reaches for the headboard, a satisfied sigh escaping her. "I feel great." She murmurs back and has to take a deep breath so that the next sound that escapes her isn't a moan. "Just busy. Anything else, Blonsky?"

The man clears his throat, Wanda has to press a hand against her own mouth as you reach another right spot. 

"Hm, yes, Reverend... As you know, the deadline for the selection of the disciple is coming to an end." He begins, luckily unable to hear the muffled sighs inside the room through the closed door. "I have expressed my concerns to Your Reverence about a premature choice of new members-"

Wanda snorts impatiently. "Are you really going to question my choices again, Blonsky?"

"N-no, reverend!" He defends himself quickly. "Never. I just worry that the... affinity, that Your Reverence has acquired for some new members, might affect your judgment about their vocations. The premature choice of a disciple could result in their departure from our community, and we know how the withdrawal of one of our own affects everyone..."

"Don't worry about it." Wanda cuts dry, and now, she's remarkably close to climaxing. She doesn't care about the roughness, she thrusts her hips frantically into your face, muffling your breathless moans. "Y/N is the best choice... she's... so-god... dedicated and-hm... talented-" Wanda's lucky you're quick to react too. She would have screamed to the ceiling, exposing all the inappropriate activities in the room if you hadn't grabbed her thighs and spun her on her back onto the mattress. She didn't have time to lose this orgasm by the brief interruption of your movements - your fingers took the place of your tongue when you hovered above her, and your free hand covered her mouth when you sank inside her again.

Wanda came harder than before, squeezing your fingers and wetting the bed. She clings to your body in a desperate grasp, shocked by the achievement over her body, and grateful for the muffling of her moans. You keep thrusting until she stops squirting on the sheets.

You only remember that Blonsky is still outside because he speaks again. "I'll take your word for it, Your Reverence. And I hope you've made a good choice." He says at last, the sound of his footsteps moving away is ignored by you and Wanda, who meet in a hot kiss in the next second.

Your fingers continue to thrust lightly inside her, even though Wanda shudders from the excessive stimulation. And despite this, she also controls the kiss, which slows down so that she can ask in between: "Tell me, love. Did I do it? A good choice."

You kiss her a little harder. "I still don't know... what I want... or what I should do, Wanda."

She brings one of her hands up to your wrist, stopping your movements. You open your eyes to look at her. Wanda smiles, but her eyes are very mischievous. "You think too hard when the answer is right here." She retorts, giving your hand a gentle tug. You follow her lead, and soon, you have your drenched fingers with her cum inside your mouth. Your hips move instinctively, pressing down on her, and Wanda giggles mischievously, her free hand trailing down your back to encourage the movement. "Don't you want that, baby? You can be all mine."

You suck your fingerprints clean, removing them from your mouth to support yourself on the mattress now that you're so wildly grinding your hips against Wanda's thigh. She doesn't let you indulge in the sensation, grabbing your cheek and stopping your hips with the other at your silence.

Your soft protest is ignored, and your voice is almost a pathetic plea when it comes out. "It's not fair... I was feeling so good."

"Oh, darling, I can make you feel even better, every day if you decide to stay with me." She retorts, her grip softening on your cheek. You look at her, but there is still hesitation in your gaze and Wanda wishes to replace this doubt with something else. She kisses you but pulls away when you go to increase the intensity, ignoring your protest and pushing you gently away by the shoulders. "No playing, until I have an answer."

Wanda flees - because she doesn't think she'll live up to her words if she is under you - and slips out of bed before you can grab her back. Your next long protest is muffled against the mattress because you press your face down.

Wanda giggles half-heartedly as she stands up, reaches for her dress, and tries to adjust her appearance a little. "Thank you for the sex, sweetheart, it was a very pleasant surprise, but I can't let Blonsky lead a communion, he's not good at it. And you have errands, so if you'll excuse me..." Your silence made Wanda, now dressed, look at the bed again. To her surprise, you were sitting on the mattress, hanging something around your neck. 

Your gaze met hers as the disciple chain was secure on your skin. The mischief in your gaze made her swallow. Twirling the symbol between your fingers, you smiled as you asked: "So how does this work? Should I confess my sins so that you can forgive me?"

"God offers forgiveness, not me." Wanda whispers back, brazenly watching you start to unbutton your shirt, the necklace hanging in the valley of your breasts is doing things to her. 

"Hm, since I'm going to be forgiven, maybe I can sin a little more..." Wanda moved on instinct, crawling onto the bed to meet you halfway like a magnet being drawn towards you.

Your foreheads touched, and she sighed against your lips. "I should punish you for this blasphemy." She says, to which you smile naughtily before sticking out your tongue to tease her lips, eliciting a low moan from her.

"Promise?" You challenge, and Wanda gets tired of wasting time.

[yourejinx]

Wasted Times

CASSIAN X F.READER

Warnings: SMUT, little plot. A bit of angst. Minors do not interact.

A/N: a little something, not proof read. I'll be editing tomorrow. Comments are welcomed 👏🏻

You used to think he found you pretty, always sticking next to you or seeking your company, you're fairly sure he even flirted with you sometimes. In his own not-ever-gonna-out- right-tell-you-what-I- mean–way, but you could tell there was something there. That's until the middle Archeron sister came into picture, with her beautiful doe brown eyes and soft silky-looking skin, her pink lips and long curls. Elain was a vision. Azriel was completely mesmerized with her, and it stung like hell to sit and watch as he leaned into her ear to whisper the mother knows what, his fingers delicatedly brushing her bare shoulder. 

You sighed and drowned the dark liquor of your glass in one gulp. You were so tired of this shit, wouldn't have made it through half the dinner without Mor and Cass there. 

"Everything alright sweetheart?" Cass asked loud enough just for you to hear. 

"Yeah, I'm just bored." You smiled dismissively, hopefully convincing enough to ease the worried look he was giving you. 

"We should go to Rita's" Mor chipped in, just in time to save you from interrogation. 

"Yes! The three of us hadn't been out alone in ages." You agreed quickly, really needing any excuse to get the fuck out of the house. 

Cass chuckled. "Yeah, last time I don't really remember how we ended up at Helion's door. Rhys had to go get us." 

You laughed, a real sound this time and Cassian's eyes sparkled in amusement. He was always there for you, through thick and thin, ever since you met him. It was instant, the connection between the two of you, he knew you better than you knew yourself. Your best friend, your personal ray of sunshine. You had a feeling he suspected of your...affections towards his brother but you always managed to play it out small, just a friendly teasing. He wasn't a fool though, but kept quiet about it. 

"What do you say Cass, are you up to some fun?" You asked, a smirk tugging at your lips. 

"I'm always ready for a night with you sweetheart." He winked and leaned back in his chair. 

You weren't entirely sure if it was the wine you had been indulging in all night, or the fact that it's been a while since someone flirted with you but your cheeks turned a light dusty pink at his words. Body feeling a little tingly. It wasn't uncommon for Cassian to flirt with you, he was built like that. He pretty much flirted with everyone. But something felt different tonight, maybe the fact that you were feeling a little unsure about yourself as of late, given that a certain shadowsinger had started to pay attention to more... beautiful, delicate things. So you didn't question how the General's words had affected you. You let yourself enjoy it, make you feel good. Cassian always made you feel good.

You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a playful smile, taking a sip of your glass. 

Mor almost squealed in excitement. With Rhys and Feyre navigating their new parenthood, Amren and Varian barely leaving her apartment, and Azriel annoyingly pinning after Elain, there wasn't really much fun going on for your blonde friend. You had been over working a lot to be honest, anything to keep away from the house and the irritation that came lately when crossing paths with the shadowsinger, but you were tired and you missed your friends. So you finally decided to come home and a night out with your two best friends sounded esplendid. 

"Alright then, let's go" you stood up, pulling Cassian with you, Mor on your heels. You waved your friends goodnight from over your shoulder. Not lingering to see hazel eyes trailing after you. 

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"Is it me or is tonight more packed than usual?" You shouted over to Mor, making your way through the crowd of sweating bodies to the bar across from the dance floor. 

Mor chuckled, pulling out a seat for you and signaling for the barman to come over. "It's Friday, of course it’s packed. How long is it since you last went out?" 

"Two months, I guess? Since I took the job on the border" you shrugged. 

"So, almost three months," Cassian added. Mor sent him a smirk. 

"But who's counting, right?" She joked, Cass just rolled his eyes at her and ordered our drinks. 

"Aww, did you miss me Cassie?" You prodded playfully at his shoulder. A smirk stretching across your red tinted lips. 

"Of course I did, smartass, I didn't know the House could be so silent without your incessant morning rants!" He smiled. You smacked him in the arm. "Ouch! That hurt" 

"I didn't even hit you that hard, you're just being a big Illyrian baby." You rolled your eyes, taking a sip ro your drink. 

"You love me anyways," he threw an arm around your shoulder. "but for real sweetheart, don't take any more long ass missions for a while." 

A warm, real smile made its way to your lips. "Don't worry Cass, I don't intend to." 

"Good. Cause Azriel's been a real pain in the ass, I can't stand him anymore on my own." He chuckled. 

Your smile weavered a little at the mention of the shadowsinger. "Ugh, don't even start. But let's not talk about him, yeah? I wanna dance." 

Cassian opened his mouth but before he could answer, you were already tugging Mor towards the dance floor. 

The night passed by between drinks and laughter and dancing, you were currently sandwiched between Mor and Cassian, swaying your hips to the dark tune of the rhythm, arms thrown around the shoulders of your blonde friend, back pressed against Cassian’s hard chest. It was hot and fun and you’ve never felt so free and careless, maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe the heat of the hands resting heavily on your hips was starting to mess up with your head. Either way, you felt bold and beautiful, a taunting smirk adorning your lips as you caught the eye of some male across the room. He gave you and Mor a run over, biting his lip as he made his way towards you. He was handsome, not quite as breathtaking as the males in your family, but he had some pretty attractive features. Sharp jaw and glinting dark eyes, and he looked confident enough that he had found his entertainment for the evening. You smiled playfully at Mor, angling your head to the male as if not to be so obvious, she looked over her shoulder, blonde curls like melted honey dripping over her back and flashed him a devilish smile. That’s when you knew you were out of the game. Mor was beautiful, ethereal. There was no comparing your darkness to her striking beauty, even the shadowsinger had favored her over you, some time ago. 

Why had your thoughts taken such a pitiful turn? You were having a good time right? you wouldn’t let your insecurities take root in your head once more, you were here to avoid them after all. Still, you faltered in your steps as the male gently tapped Mor’s bare shoulder. You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, unconsciously leaning in on Cassian. Mor, completely oblivious to the downturn in your mood, gave you a playful wink and headed off with the male. 

“Nevermind him,” rang Cassian’s deep voice in your ear, “he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He gave a little squeeze to your hip, breath fanning over your neck and causing goosebumps to erupt in your skin. 

“Doesn’t he now? He’s got his hands on the big prize tonight” you murmured. 

Cassian’s grip on your hip tightened, pulling you even closer to him, right hand splayed dangerously low on your abdomen. “He’s so beneath you, sweetheart.”  

You let out a sigh, finding comfort in the heat radiating off of his body. Cassian’s strong arms enveloping you almost possessively, hiding you away. “Cass,” you called him softly, half turning to face him, “dance with me?” 

He flashed you one of his signature smiles and leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder, “For as long as you want.” 

You didn’t really want to think about why you felt so compelled to believe Cassian’s words, it was like everytime he reassured you, you got this warm feeling in your chest that spread throughout your body, all the way to the tip of your toes. You felt lighter, confident, pretty…even, in his presence. There was this sense of sincerity about him, and Cassian –your Cassian– would never lie to you. So you relaxed in his embrace and allowed yourself to get lost in the rhythm again, enjoying the way he seemed to understand your body better than anyone, smoothly following your movements. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was around the sixth glass of fairy wine when Cassian decided that maybe you had had enough to drink, and maybe it was time to get some fresh air. He wasn’t entirely sure the suffocating heat was due to the way-too-packed dance floor or because you had been grinding down on him all night. If he had to be honest with himself, it was probably the latter. He couldn’t understand how did you dare think so low about yourself, in his eyes you were the most stunning female he had ever met, but tonight with that unfairly short, tight dress that hugged all the right places? You were absolutely ravishing. Full plump red lips so close to him, he had to refrain from kissing you until they were bruised and swollen. 

“You know what I really want?” you asked suddenly, pulling him out of the trance he had been for the last ten minutes. Your head was resting on his shoulder, eyes glazed and heavy looking up at him. He swallowed, you were definitely tipsy. You’d never look at him like that otherwise. 

“What do you really want?” He asked, shamelessly tracing the shape of your mouth. 

“A piece of chocolate cake,” you pouted. That pulled a laugh out of him, he wasn’t expecting it.  

“You’ve got chocolate cake at home,” he answered, still smiling at your frowning face. “I bought you some this morning, when I heard you were coming back.” 

You beamed at him, and Cassian’s heart made a flip in his chest. It was as if he had told you the secret of the universe itself. 

“Really?” you asked, smiling widely. He chuckled. “Can we go home now?” 

“Yeah, let's get you that chocolate cake sweetheart.” 

With one arm securely wrapped around your waist and the other hooked under your legs, Cassian lifted you up easily, as if you weighed the same as a feather to him. A small gasp escaped your mouth once he took to the skies, it never failed to amaze you how truly powerful he was. How disciplined and graceful, even. There was nothing brute about Cassian, despite some awful claimings from equally awful people. This sight of him, the wind in his hair, strong wings on full display, was nothing short of a masterpiece. 

As if sensing your ogling, Cassian looked down to meet your stare with a bashful smirk. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“You know Cass, you're my favorite person in the entire world.” you whispered, smiling up at him. 

His smirk widened. “Oh, you're so drunk.” 

You frowned, a little pout forming on your lips. “I'm not drunk. Just tipsy with no filter.” 

He chuckled. “I thought Az was your favorite.” 

Your frown deepened and Cassian swore your body had stiffened a little. “Why? We barely talk anymore.” You scoffed. 

Cassian gave you a sympathetic smile. “He's just been busy,” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

And just like that your mood had gone back to the beginning of the night. Sour insecurities resurfacing in your head. It wasn't Cass’ fault though, he's been perfectly charming the entire night. It didn't sit right with you, this awkwardness surrounding you. “He didn't get me chocolate cake though, so you're still my fav.”  You tried lifting the mood with a tentative playful smile. He mirrored it, but still he caught your change in demeanor, having fallen silent the rest of the ride home. 

Even once inside the House of Wind, comfortably sitting on the counter top in the kitchen, eating a slice of cake, shoes discarded on the floor. You hadn't uttered another word, too lost in your thoughts. 

Cassian observed you intently, eyes downcast, hair a little windswept, full lips engulfing the last bit of cake. He swallowed. He didn't understand his brother, how could he resist when you so openly flirted with him? Had it been him on the receiving end of those heated stares shared during training, he would already have you pressed against the nearest wall, devouring your mouth until you couldn't breathe. There was no denying the beauty of the middle Archeron sister, but you? No one could compare to you. Long dark lashes, beautiful plump lips, the subtle sun-kissed glow of your skin… and those thighs. Those godsdamned thighs, you could choke him to death with them and he would die a happy male.

Yet, you didn't seem aware of the effect you had on males —and females as well— whenever you’d walk into the room. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, low enough not to startle you. 

“Am I not pretty enough?” You blurted out suddenly, as if you couldn't contain the thoughts inside your head anymore. Feeling embarrassed about how that came out, you averted your gaze away from him.

“Why would you think that?” Cassian asked softly, a small frown taking form in his face. When you didn't answer he moved to stand directly in front of you. “Sweetheart look at me, please,” his hand came to cup your chin, forcing your head up and causing your eyes to meet. 

“It's just..” you huffed, mouth forming a small pout. “I'm not exactly soft and delicate, my body is too strong and maybe I laugh too loud,” You bit your lip trying to stop the spiraling of your thoughts. “I’ve never been…courted, I've had sexual partners, sure, but none of them had wanted to stay. No one has approached me for a while and tonight I thought– but of course not, Mor was there and she's stunning like the sun! I don't know, maybe I'm not feminine enough, that's all I'm saying.” You shrugged, trying to downplay it. 

“That couldn't be farther from the truth. You truly have no idea what you do to every male in Prythian that sets their eyes on you.” He declared, looking so intensely at you that you couldn’t look away. The hand that was cupping your chin had moved down to rest on your waist and you sucked in a breath at the sudden rush of heat that act alone had caused to spread all over your skin. “You have no idea what you do to me.” Cassian’s voice had dropped to a low deep purr that had you feeling dizzy. “Breathtaking is not a strong enough word to describe your beauty. You don't think you're soft and feminine?” His free hand dared to trace a path from your hips up to your ribs, stopping just below your breasts. “I can point out a few soft and feminine spots if you wish.” 

His eyes had taken a darker tone and you swallowed dry, feeling all tingly where his hands were currently resting on your body. Cassian was beautiful,  perfect. You had always known that, but you would have never thought this male to have an attraction towards you. It was simply impossible, you've been best friends for as long as you remember, he had seen the ugly in you, the dark, awful sides of you. And in contrast, you've seen him take gorgeous lovers along the years.  So you never gave it much thought, contempt to have him as your partner in crime, your own personal sun. But there was no denying the way he was watching you now, such hunger in his darkened gaze; there was no denying the way your mind and body were reacting to him either. 

You didn't know when you had leaned in closer, or had that been him? Your hands were resting on his chest in a poor attempt to keep some composure but you knew he could smell the sweet vague scent of arousal coming off of you. Your face heated up, a faint blush all the way to the point of your ears. 

When you didn’t say anything he added: “D’you wanna know why no one dares to approach you?” His breath fanned over your face. “That’s on me, sweetheart. I can’t help it, whenever I’m around you and some poor excuse of a male even thinks he might be worthy to touch you, my blood boils in my veins and I become violence incarnate. I know that. No one would be stupid enough to defy me.” 

“But– but why?” you choked out. Too stunned to act cool. 

He chuckled, a dark, dangerous sound. “Why? Because I want you. Because I dream about you. Because I need you.” 

You tilted your head slightly upwards to stare at him, mouths mere inches away. There was such raw devotion in his eyes, it unleashed something primal from within you. It burned and ached more and more by the second, desperately wanting to be free. Oh, you wanted him. All of him. 

“Then have me. Show me all the soft spots you like,” you whispered. 

Cassian growled low, “I'm gonna show you just how beautiful you are.” And then he crashed your lips together in a hungry kiss. He kissed you deep and rough, hands tightly holding your hips and bringing you closer to the edge of the countertop. 

Your own hands came to rest at the nape of his neck, fingers twisting and tugging at the strands there. You bit down on his lower lip, immediately dragging your tongue over it; groaning softly, he grabbed handfuls of your ass, kneading the flesh there. Arousal shot through your body, all the way to your core, thighs clenching together. You were almost certain your panties were drenched. 

“This I like,” he managed between kisses, landing a spank to your left cheek. You gasped and he took the opportunity to explore more of your skin, kissing and nibbling that sensitive spot on your neck. He went lower, licking at your collarbones and you arched your back to give him more access. 

Rough, calloused hands slid the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders, exposing your breasts to him. Cassian wasted no time attaching his mouth to your right breast, swirling his tongue and biting softly at the perked nub. Expert fingers twisting at the other before switching between them. You moaned loudly for him, hips jerking, searching for friction. 

“These I like,” he said, releasing your niple with a sinful ‘pop’. Then his eyes darted down to your legs, forcing them open with his hips. Your dress had ridden up your hips, lace panties on full display for him. The fabric was soaked and Cassian growled at the sight. All for him. He fell to his knees before you, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of  your inner thighs “but these,” he murmured in between love bites. “I love these,” The General moaned before ripping your panties off and letting his tongue drag a long strip up your folds. 

“Oh Gods” you couldn't help but moan out loud, fingers finding their way into Cassian's hair and pushing his head further in between your legs. Hips desperately chasing after that sinful, skilled mouth of his. 

He chuckled darkly and the reverberations caused pleasure to shoot up your spine, eyes fluttering shut. You were almost sure you could touch the sky with your hands when he sucked harshly at your clit, and all thoughts emptied from your mind. It was just you, and Cassian, and the mindnumbing pleasure coursing through your veins as he fucked you with his tongue. It was all too much, too hot, too messy. His mouth felt so warm on you, fuck, drinking up your juices like he might die of thirst. You couldn't get enough of him, how did you get so long without succumbing to his charms? 

Cassian groaned as yet another wave of arousal came gushing out of you, licking it all up, not a single drop to waste. Your taste was divine, he thought he may be high on it, head empty except for the carnal need to make you come undone on his mouth, and then fuck you into oblivion. He was so painfully hard, he could’ve just cum right there at the sight of you above him, looking all fucked up and he had yet to take off his pants. He could feel how close you were as your whimpering grew louder, head threw back in pleasure, too lost to notice the lone shadow that had made its way towards you. Cassian growled in warning, wings flaring proud in a display of dominance as he heard the light footsteps approaching. “Mine.” He seemed to growl on your skin, and you felt yourself tripping over the edge when you locked eyes with the intruder. A plea of The General’s name on your lips. 

“Cass please, I'm gonna–” your release barreled through you with blinding force. Cassian rode you through your high, never faltering until you came down. 

When you opened your eyes the intruder was gone. It was only you and Cassian in the room, he was smiling brightly at you, your heart gave a flip at the sight. He was still on his knees, lips shiny with the remnants of your orgsm, eyes still full of lust. He was so beautiful. You couldn't resist but to urge him up and kiss him breathless. 

“I take it, you liked it” He murmured amusedly, hands still roaming over your body. 

“Very much so, yes.” You smiled, leaning in for another kiss. He pressed himself against you, hard and ready, making you moan again. 

A sudden new wave of lust (and a tinge of longing) invaded your senses, followed by a tentative tug. You gasped into his mouth, breaking the kiss to look up at him. 

“You're…” you mused in awe, not able to form a coherent thought. His smile only grew wider and he dragged his mouth leisurely down your neck, biting softly. 

“I'm not half done with you yet, love.” 

[sxorpiomooon]

What does your younger self think about you? A pac reading

This reading scared the fucking shit out of me guys had to gather alot of courage to do it. Good luck

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Pile 1-

I think pile 1's younger self thinks that they have been indulging themselves in something too much for no reason? Like pile 1 has been too impatient. They might think that you might have started to focus too much on the appearance of things I especially see this for yourself too. This pile might be too focused on how they look overall and I see it causing them harm. "Only understanding the cost of things and not their value" is what I heard. This is so cute but I think pile 1's younger self likes how feminine they've become now? For some reason I had a vision of cinderalla. I think this pile's younger self is super excited about them being able to dress up nicely. I think the younger self also thinks that you guys have more resources than you did back then whether it's in the material sense or people but they're very happy with that. For some of you, if you are trying to get pregnant or alr have kids i see your pile being very very excited and happy about that too. The younger self also thinks that you guys tend to walk away from things too early? Oml pile 1 i hope y'all not gambling n shit😭 anyways they think that just when you are about to win, you decide to leave that thing behind. The main message I get is being patient with yourself also heard "my patience leads to perseverance"

Pile 2-

Your younger self is satisfied with how far you've come. Especially in the emotional sense they think that you have reached emotional stability and know your worth and it makes them happy. Also if you are someone who wins a lot of awards and has a pile of awards stacked up perhaps someone who's also athletic, your younger self is very proud. pile 2 has found themselves. I see that you might have had a lot of experiences helping you in gaining wisdom and whatever you needed to be at this level. Your younger self also loves how sensitive you are and how much in touch with your emotions you are. For some of you, i see that you've not turned out how you would've expected yourself to be(in a good way) so even your younger self is surprised. They love how much of a dreamer you are. However I think this pile has a lot of struggles or tests that life or fate puts them through. You might struggle a bit with authority and communication this I see happening bc of not proper communication I think your younger self wants you to have more clarity regarding that.

Pile 3-

Your younger self thinks that you've lost your way and your sight.

"If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."

Is something that I heard immediately. Your younger self might think that you are very trapped and alone misguided in this world right now I keep hearing unreal monsters lure for some reason? Your younger self might also think that you have been lied to or taken advantage of by people? However, your younger self also thinks that alot of things are going wrong simply because you are trying to find your way and as long as you make sure to balance everything especially your priority and as I heard "the life that you want" it will all be ok

Pile 4-

Your younger self wants you to live your life and indulge into things and whatever that you like but they also want you to take a few minutes to see the bigger picture of it every time before you make a decision or do something. "Does it really serve me?" Is something that I keep hearing. Having pleasure and fun is nice but it also must be done to a limit. Me and the devil keep playing in my head and I keep hearing ego. Some of you have to keep your ego in check. Brat keeps playing in my head and I'm seeing a dj party for some reason. Your younger self also thinks that either you alr have or you are going to start a new beginning very soon and they seem excited for that bc that might be the path you are meant to follow. They want you to take the leap of faith and have courage in yourself. They also want you to always keep learning and defend yourself when needed

[moonystoes]

Wrong Number - Elisa De Almeida

Summary: When Elisa sends a picture to the girl she was flirting with at the club...except it wasn't the right number.

Warning: ...there is a picture here loll.

A/n: I'm so sorry but this is by far the worst fic I've written, I've tried to do something new and I'm not so confident about it. I still wanted you guys to read it and all the support from the anonymous asks helped me a lot. Thank you!

This picture is NOT Elisa, it is from @/torinha___ on instagram

The loud music was almost making Elisa dizzy. She gave a small nod to Jackie, pointing to the club seats and tip toeing there to make sure she won't bump into anyone. Elisa didn't want to admit it, but she knew she drank too much than she should've. The squad decided to go and celebrate their win against bayern Munich at a fancy bar in the south of Paris, but they completely forgot about their early afternoon training the next day.

Sakina was the only sober one, restricting alcohol from her diet because of her faith. And even if Islam permitted drinking, she'd still refuse. She loves being in control and aware of her surrounding environments, and if she gets drunk she'd lose all of the power.

Elisa awkwardly bumped into Sakina's shoulder, giving her a soft wave before settling down next to her, "oh my God we are so done for tomorrow, he will kill us."

"He will kill you, not us," she reminded Elisa, "it's okay, just stop drinking or else you'll make tomorrow worse."

"Yeah thanks Saki," Elisa gave Sakina a weak thumbs up as she twisted her body to the table, "I'll just drink water from now on."

Sakina patted Elisa's back as she turned to glance at the other girls. She hates the smell of sweat and drinks, but she loves hanging out with the girls. She can see Jackie and Eva dancing, as well as Clare twirling around... obviously too drunk to even care about how crazy she looks.

When she turned to her left, she noticed a woman staring at Elisa. She wasn't sure if she should let Elisa know about it, or just stay quiet and see if the woman will do anything. But she saw her take quick steps towards the both of them, and that caused Sakina to panic and turn the other way.

"Hey," a sultry voice hit Elisa's ear, feeling a hand squeeze her shoulder. She turned around to see who it was, and she was stunned for a minute by the beauty of the woman.

It's been a while since Elisa had gotten the attention of a girl that way. Even though she's been getting popular on social media, it feels as though her dating life has disappeared. Her last relationship ended because of the distance (her moving from montpellier to psg), and even that relationship was short anyways and ended awfully.

And when she tried dating apps, it seems as though her dates never work. Awkwardness fills both sides, and they ultimately end up ghosting each other. For a second, she tried convincing herself that it's for the best...so she can focus on football only. But now she is getting a little humiliated by all of this. Even her teammates make jokes about it (Eva laughed after Elisa opened up about her dating history, then proceeded to say she has '0 rizz').

She glanced back to the glass of water in front of her, then back to the woman in front of her. Maybe she should try this one more time, it won't hurt anyone...besides, everyone is drunk and if she embarrassed herself she'd probably forget about it anyways.

"Hey sweetheart," she smiled back, as she chugged the cold water, hoping it will make her sound less drunk than she is.

But when she glanced back at the stranger, she noticed her face was in complete shock, "oh my God, you're a girl?!"

"Haha...yeah, does that bother you?" Elisa gets this a lot in situations like this. In pure daylight, it's obvious she's just a masculine woman. But in dark clubs filled with drunk people, some visions get blurred. She just hoped that the women that try and flirt with her are actually attracted to women.

"Oh...no it doesn't," she gave a soft smile, her hand softly moving from Elisa's shoulder to the nape of her neck, delicately squeezing the tough muscle in there, "I just didn't know you were a girl and your voice caught me off guard."

Sakina was glaring at the stranger, having to see Elisa fall into the same trap everytime. She knew Elisa was desperate for some love (she does get laid apparently...well, that's what she tells Sakina), and this causes her to end up being in sticky situations with many straight women.

"My name is Sophie by the way," she raised her little champagne cup to Elisa, stepping closer to her to the point where her body was between Elisa's legs.

"Hey Sophie, I'm Elisa," She grinned at her with a wink, she lifted her right hand and placed it on Sophie's waist, "no work tomorrow?"

"Ew don't bring work here I'm trying to escape it," she fake gagged, placing the champagne glass on the table and placing her other hand on Elisa's thigh.

Usually, Elisa would freak out by the amount of physical touches she's getting. Especially by someone who she met not even a minute ago, but Sophie was an attractive woman...and that made her lose all the self respect she had and allowed her to do whatever she wants to her body.

She giggled at what she said, "Yeah me too."

"Your muscles are great, I've never seen a woman like that before," Sophie looked down as she tapped Elisa's tough quads, making sure that they're real.

Yeah because you haven't seen women in the first place,

Sakina thought as her blood started boiling, maybe she was being too much. Maybe Sophie was actually not straight and Sakina had been a bitch this whole time. But it doesn't matter, what matters is that Elisa is definitely too drunk to actually thinking appropriately.

"Yeah?" Elisa smirked at Sophie, she lifted up her sleeve and flexed her bicep, looking at Sophie's dropped jaw.

"Oh wow, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Elisa burst out laughing, she knew if she can continue with the flirting she can possibly end up in a bedroom. The way Sophie was approaching her was definitely strange, but she did love the attention. And anyone who compliments her hard work in the gym makes her feel confident and cocky.

Sakina was grabbing her head with both of her hands, she wanted to pull Sophie away and drag Elisa home. She glanced up to check up on Jackie, Eva, and Clare. And she saw them cleaning up the little table they were using.

Alhumdulillah, Sakina thanked god realizing that she will be driving them home now.

"Psst, Elisa we're going now." She tapped Elisa on the shoulder, making sure she won't touch Sophie's clingy hand.

Elisa glanced back to Sophie with an evident pout, "sorry, I gotta go...can I get your number? we can finish the conversation there."

Her hand kept delicately squeezing Sophie's waist, waiting for a response from her. Sexting wasn't something she did, but she had some experience with from the long distance relationship that didn't last 2 months.

Sophia stood there slightly speechless, contemplating whether she should actually give out her phone number to Elisa, or run away from this embarrassing day.

"Okay, give me your phone and I'll type it."

Unknown Number

This is how it looked under the shirt 😉

You huffed as you stared at the 11:59 on your computer screen. Working is always exhausting, but the paycheck makes it enjoyable. Your eyes were slightly burning from staying on the computer for too long, and it makes you feel way older than you knew you are. You were hoping time would move quickly so you can start your lunch, but a sudden ding came from your phone.

You glanced at Jasmine, your coworker, as she gave you a shrug, "check your phone, I don't think anyone will care. I mean lunch is gonna start in 29 seconds...no 28...no actually 27."

You sighed as you pulled your phone out from your purse, but froze when you saw a notification from an unknown number. You rarely get these texts, especially after the cybersecurity course you took that left you traumatized. But something from this made you curious, for sure now as an adult you can think maturely when texting strangers. Maybe it's an important message or someone who needs help.

You pressed on the notification, and gasped. Turning off off your phone, you stared back at computer screen, moving the mouse around making sure you finish your job.

"Damn you really wanna finish all 60 seconds. 16...15...14." Jasmine laughed at your nonchalant face.

You frustratingly pulled you phone back, reading the texts again. You are an adult now! You can tell them off. What if they're a hacker and they'll get into your personal data and leak all of your pictures? You glanced back at the picture as your face flushed, damn even if it's gross and weird to send strangers pictures like this...you were guilty for finding whoever this person may be attractive.

Maybe they accidentally sent it to the wrong number,

??

This is Elisa from the club last night haha

Elisa? That's a girl name right? You closed your eyes, now you're definitely guilty for finding her attractive. You were so single that a nude picture from a random masculine woman is making your face turn red. You looked back at the picture, not knowing how to respond.

Wrong number

I didn't go to a club last night

Sorry x

I'm pretty sure the person would've loved that picture though

Seen 4 minutes ago

Elisa screeched as she saw those texts, throwing the phone away in the locker room. Sakina turned around horrified from the scream, "Eli, what's wrong!"

"Saki kill me," she dropped her face into her hands as she lightly sobbed. Her right leg was twitching up and down as she sat down on one of the locker room seats.

Sakina placed her hair brush in her locker as she sighed from Elisa's dramatic behavior, "oh come on...what did you do?" But when she turned to look at Elisa, her dameanor turned serious. Elisa's face was bright red, eyes filled with tears and eyebrows furrowed.

She stepped towards Elisa worriedly, looking at Elisa's phone laying on the ground. She walked towards her phone, trying to see what even happened.

"No!" Elisa jumped up and grabbed her phone, hiding it into her chest, "Saki I made a stupid mistake."

"You're scaring me, just tell me what you did." Sakin came closer to Elisa, pushing her back into sitting.

"Do you remember Sophie from yesterday?" Elisa guiltily looked down as she whispered to Sakina.

Sakina rolled her eyes, "yes...I do remember her."

Elisa sighed again, this time in frustration and humiliation, "well...I guess she gave me a fake number," she looked back at Sakina's angry face, but right when she was about to response, Elisa interrupted her, "Sakina I sent a naked picture to some random girl...or worse, fuck that could be a man!"

Sakina's jaw dropped to the ground as she heard what Elisa did, but Elisa interrupted her again, "please don't lecture me about it. I know, I swear I know."

She gave Elisa a tight smile, pulling her in a hug to comfort her, "it could be a girl, and she could be cute and sweet and would actually like you. Maybe God made this a chance for you to find your one."

Elisa took a deep breath, trying to calm down her beating heart. It's not the end of the world, she can just block that number and pretend this never happened, or she could try and talk to the stranger. Maybe sakina was right, "Yeah...you're right. I should put my trust on God for this one, and if it was a 60 year old man I will blame it on him."

Sakina slapped Elisa's shoulder sarcastically, "actually you're the one who decided to send a nude picture to a random person...maybe you're the one to blame here," Elisa covered her face again with her hands, raising her face to the sky as she was mumbling some prayer, "Besides...can I see what you sent her?" Sakina winked as she tried to take Elisa's phone, now placed between Elisa's thighs.

Elisa opened her phone and showed her the texts, but Sakina's loud laughter made her shut it down and turn away from her, "God you're so bad at texting...what type of opening is that? I think she's a girl, a guy won't text that way right?"

Elisa shrugged, opening her phone again and tapping on the chat to text. It could be a girl right? It has to be, or else she will kill herself and disappear.

What if she's a fan and leaks the picture? A thousand thoughts were in her mind, so she decided to just text the stranger a small apology.

Omg

I'm so sorry

I should've sent a message first

I'm gonna kill myself 😭😭

Haha, no it's okay!

At least it's not a 😼 picture

And you have a great back!

That's a girl... definitely, right? Elisa blushed at the compliment, hiding her face away from Sakina not wanting another lecture.

Thanks

Sorry for bothering you I'm pretty sure you didn't want to see this on a Tuesday afternoon

I'm just glad it's lunch break now

Also sorry about the whole wrong number thing I'm pretty sure you're bummed about it

Yeah I thought we were getting along pretty well

I'm just confused on why she gave me a wrong number

She was the one who approached me

:((( well at least you made my lunch break better

Oh yeah?

I'm glad

Wait you're working right? Not a student 💀💀

Lollll yeah I'm 25

What about u?

26

What kind of work do you do?

My desk :((

I'm a financial analyst

That sounds way fancier than it it I swear

Seen a minute ago

"Elisa what are you smiling about?" Sakina turned around suspiciously, now her hair braided.

"Oh nothing," she shrugged sakina off, turning away so Sakina can't see her face. But she sighed loudly, realizing that she needed Sakina's advice, "she's definitely a girl. And around my age, that's good, right?"

Before Sakina could leave the locker room, she stood at the door and softly said, "be safe Elisa...and no more nude pics to her, please."

Elisa huffed out in embarrassment and nodded, glancing back at her phone to text you back.

Oh wow we're sending pics now?

Why is it sad 😔

Babe you already did send pics

I tried decorating it but I gave up in a day

Oh yeah

Haha

Sorry again

Can I get a face pic :)

Only if you do

No way

Why not ☹️☹️

Cuz I just started texting you

But why do I have to

Ma'am you just sent me a picture of your bare back

I promise a face picture is nothing compared to that

😭😭😭

Ohh god

you're never gonna forget that

You don't have to

I just wanna match a face to the body ;)

"Fuck." Elisa whispered, you were good at convincing and she knew that if you asked her for another nude picture her nïave self would have sent one again.

She looked up to the sky and closed her eyes, "please don't make her some old man that's lying."

There was also a small feeling of anxiety in her, she knew that if things got awkward she can immediately block you and move on. But what if you recognize her? Would you leak that photo to the internet? She groaned out and responded, women's football isn't even that big anyways.

Okay

Is this from today?

No yesterday

Seen 2 minutes ago

You bit your lip, turning your seat away from Jasmine not ready for the questionnaire she'll make if she sees you like this.

Elisa is beautiful. No...she's hot and sexy and all of those words combined. You slowly faced Jasmine again, "Hey Jasmine... I need an advice."

Jasmine stopped drinking her hot tea as she glimpsed at you, "what for?"

You whined loudly as you threw your phone towards her, "this unknown number sent me a message accidentally, but turns out she's a hot girl."

Jasmine choked on her drink when she saw the selfie Elisa sent, "Oh my God! Oh my God y/n, do not fuck this up!"

You stared at her stunned, "so...you're not worried about how unsafe this is?"

Jasmine zoned out to think, but she glanced back at you, "well...don't give her personal information, and try to find more about her," she returned your phone back to you, "Ugh...smash. I can't believe how lucky you got...wait! You can put her picture on pinterest or Google search and it will tell you if she's catfishing you!"

You turned to look at the picture on your phone again, you knew Jasmine was right about that hack. But you didn't want to keep Elisa waiting. For some reason, there is a feeling in you that this isn't some random person catfishing...that Elisa is real.

You look really tan here

And cute

Elisa let out a small giggle at the cute comment. What if she means cute as in a friendly way, not attractive cute? Ughhhh everything is frustrating!

I get tan a lot for my job

And sweaty

Oh?

Why am I getting worried 😭

What do you mean sweaty

I will support you no matter what elisa

You're so dirty minded

I'm just an athlete

That's it

So naughty

Seen 2 minutes ago

"Ugh!" You shut your phone off and placed your head on your desk exhaustedly, "she said 'so naughty'... that's awful."

Jasmine cackled loudly at what you said, "if it was a guy it would be cringe. But it's not, so it's hot."

--

Elisa sent that message while standing on her tippy toes. She knew that her flirting skills are below average. She was staring at the screen hoping for a small message, but Eva came into the room making Elisa freak out and throw her phone in the locker.

"Hey Elisa, everything okay?" She worriedly glanced at her as she brought out her phone, "I'm gonna go and film a tiktok with Jackie. You should go to the gym room or else you'd get in trouble."

Elisa stopped 'adjusting' her hair in the mirror and nodded to Eva, "oh yeah... I go there in a minute."

Eva laughed at Elisa's accent and tapped her shoulder as she left the room. Elisa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, until she heard a small ding from her phone.

Sorry lunch break is over

You're the one who sent me a nude pic

OH MY GOD PLEASE STOP

I have to go training now anyways

Talk to you later

Stranger

Bye bye Elisa

Have fun xx

It was 3 pm when you waved goodbye to your coworkers, exhausted and ready to go home. You were thinking about Elisa, you knew you had to quick search that picture to make sure you weren't getting fooled.

Once you reached your little studio apartment, throwing your bag on your couch and laying there. You weren't expecting anything when you went on pinterest and placed her selfie on quick search. But to your surprise, the same selfie was on there too.

You instantly sat up on your couch, no way... I'm actually getting catfished. You tapped on the post and saw the name 'Elisa de Almeida' as the caption.

Is that her full name?

Guilt was consuming your heart, you felt as though you were 'cheating' for searching her name on Google instead of just asking her.

Whatever, you'll search later. You will just text her and get to know her that way.

You do training for what?

You turned off your phone and went to the kitchen to make a quick lunch meal, not expecting her to respond quickly. But your phone's notification was heard, and you ran to the couch to grab it. Damn, she texts fast.

For my job

What's your job :(

I told you mine

I play football

And get paid for that

Elisa was on her couch when she heard a new message from you. She had been waiting for you to start the conversation, since she had no idea on how to text women.

When she saw the question, she frowned. She doesn't like to introduce her job to people no matter how much she's proud of herself for becoming pro. But she didn't want to lie, and maybe you wouldn't tease her or get overwhelmed and leave her.

Wait professionally??

That's so cool

Yeah

Thanks

I know your number is French but I know that players travel around

Where do you stay

Paris

I'm in my apartment right now

I can't believe you just play football like????

So if I search your picture online I can see what team you're in?

Yes but I'd rather me say it

Oh...too late I'm sorry 💔

Seen 2 minutes ago

Elisa jumped up, fucking hell!

She stared at the black screen of her TV, are you going to be weirded out by her fans? Would that make you leave?

Elisa?

I'm sorry if I broke your privacy for this

My apologies xx

You huffed out a heavy breath, Damn it! You should've talked to her instead of doing this. Now she's probably uncomfortable with you because of this.

No it's okay

I just didn't know people can do that

Yeah haha

This is pinterest

And you can do that on Google too

That's how I know the names of the weird plants around my building

I'm really sorry if it made you weird

It's okay I guess I just wanted to lie to you and joke about my career but I forgot I'm kinda famous

Oh wowww

Were you going to lie that you're the female Messi or what

Wait if that picture was from yesterday, your fans are quick 😭

I actually prefer Ronaldo

Yeah sometimes they scare me

Ew not him

What type of fans do you have

The thirsty kind

They're nice and make cool edits of me

Sometimes violate my personal space but that's what you get when you're in public ig

Ohh I'm so sorry

Omg i just realized how scary it would've been if I were one of your fangirls and you sent me that nude pic 😭😭😭

Lolll 😂😂

I was freaking out for a while when I found out you weren't the girl

Aren't you happy that you found me though 😁😁

I am

You're pretty cute

Even when you refuse to show me how you look

Elisa :(((

I can't do it just yet

I know

I understand that

Where do you live

That's not a safe question to ask 🤨🤨

I live in Paris too

Just the unknown quiet side

That's cute

Pretty chill and tourists don't bother you

Do you live in a fancy apartment or with your family

A studio apartment

Gotta save my money to spoil my future wife

Wife?

Are you gay?

Elisa please if I weren't gay I would've blocked you and moved on with life

Elisa smiled brightly when she read your message, does that mean you're interested in her?

Good

Because I'm gay

I don't think it's hard to figure that out

But I'm glad you're comfortable with me knowing about it

It's easier when it's texting

It would've been harder in real life

I think if I saw you in real life I would scream GAY

Oh wow

I would've done the same thing

Nuh uh

Yuh uh

I would've also asked you out

If I wouldn't be shaking from anxiety

Really?

Am I your type

YES??

I don't think you understand the panic I had in my office when you sent me the pic of your face

Good

Now I wanna see you

Elisa stop

Sorry

No I'm sorry

I can send you a picture of my face

But

I need abs selfie

??

Hmm...I'm conflicted

I'm just kidding

Unless

Hmm

I wanna see you so bad

Okay calm down

Don't put your hand under your panties

HUH

Do you wanna meet up

That's kinda unsafe

I could be a catfisher

But are you though?

I can't believe a catfisher can text like this 🙈🙈

😭😭😭

You're so cute

And now that you mentioned us meeting

It makes texting you even harder

I'm on my bed now

Oh??

Do you need help with something?

...

Depends on what you can offer

Chocolate 🍫

Oh I was expecting something else

But I'd take it

I'm gonna sleep

Good night

Stranger

Good night Elisa

Dream of me

X

Elisa stared at the message you sent with a smirk on her face. It's been scary how fast the pace of your conversations is, but she was happy. It meant that the both of you guys are comfortable texting each other. She shut the phone off and stuffed her face into the pillow, dreaming of the one and only...'stranger'.

It's been a week and I still don't know your name

Xoxo gossip girl

Actually

I never watched that show

Please 🥺🥺🥺

You've seen my bare back and face

And locker room

And my TV

And the gym

Toes

You basically have seen everything

Maam

I was just gonna say it

It's y/n

I wanna see you 😔

You basically know my whole schedule

Yeah you're gonna go buy groceries today

Stop stalking me 😟😟

You don't have training today

You have a match

Turn off the phone and get ready

It's just 12pm??

The match is at 7

When do you have to get ready

We have to be there around 5

We're gonna be wearing suits today 🕴🕴

OMG

Show me to me rachel

Send it to me pleaseee

What

Who the fuck is rachel

Idk if I'll be free and send you a pic

Usually I turn off my phone before

It's a tiktok trend

Oldie

Ohh

I prefer instagram

Are you liking other women posts while texting me???

Whore

Give me your Instagram account and I'll like every post 😘😘

No don't say that I have pictures from when I was 14 there

Oh nvm maybe not every post

Wait why do you have posts from back then 😭😭

Your account sounds like a mess

Because I looked cunty in the pictures?? Besides my account is private and I have like 60 followers only

What about you?

What about me?

How was younger you?

I don't wanna talk about younger me

Nooooo

Please

I'm pretty sure you looked so cute 🥺🥺

Wait some of your fangirls probably have pictures

Ughh

Fine

Go and look on pinterest or whatever

if you don't want me to know it's okay

i was joking xx

no me too

its okay

you've seen my back i dont think baby me is that bad

go ahead

your back is not bad what are you talking about ;)

THATS YOU?

stopp you looked so cute

OMG

No

Not this

Omg in my defense my ex gf at the time thought I was hot here

Pleasee I probably would be blushing too if I were her look at you 🥺🥺

YOU HAD A GF AT THAT AGE??

Yeah young love

She was in france for the summer

Like two weeks only and she was brazilian so my dad liked her

...your dad?

Ohhh

Wait that sounded wrong

She used to speak with my dad portuguese and he is from portugal

Ohhhh

So he wanted her to teach u?

Yeah but we were busy doing other things

Ew

Stop talking about your ex im gonna get jealous

Im joking

I was too scared to do anything like that

Well actually i did have my first kiss with her

But it was mostly really shy awkward football dates

Elisa im gonna block you shut the fuck up

Wow

What about you

Young love?

I had my first relationship when i was 20 💀

And she CHEATED

Ugh the audacity

Awhh

What awh

You think me getting cheated on is cute

Okay whore

Omg no please no more baby pics

But you looked cute :(((

Baby eli

seen 4 hours ago

Elisa scratched her chin as she eyed Constance, hoping she would start a conversation, "what's wrong? Eli please..." Constance giggled as she saw Elisa's face.

"Awh thank you for asking I was questioning our friendship for a second," Elisa joked, smacking picaud's shoulder, "do you remember the girl from the club?"

"the straight one?" Picaud questioned as she buttoned the suit, trying her best to look presentable.

"the straigh- she was not straight." Elisa froze, looking at picaud's reflection in the mirror.

"Bitch please even Sakina, the straightest girl I know, noticed that," She tapped Elisa's shoulder to comfort her as she cackled.

Elisa felt blood running to her cheeks, was she that drunk not to notice? Maybe that's why she gave you the wrong number. Elisa felt deep embarrassment for not realizing sooner.

"Anyways... I'm sorry about it. What were you going to say?" She starting applying gel to her roots.

"Ugh... you're going to laugh at me even more now," Elisa rolled her eyes and contiuned buttoning her dress shirt, completely ignorning the concerning glance Constance is giving her, "Okay fine! She gave me a wrong number... and I accidentally... well not accidentally, I actually meant it...sent her a nude picture. A picture of my back, and it was another girl that's gay and around our age and she also lives here in Paris. Anyways, I just want to ask her out but I keep sounding like a cat in heat on how desperate I am and i don't want to scare her."

Constance jaw was on ground listening to Elisa's ramble, "Wait what?! Elisa are you out of your mind? Why the fuck did you send a random number a picture of your back?" She dropped her arms to her sides as she gave Elisa a disappointed look. Elisa turned the other way so Picaud doesn't look at her red face, "Oh my god are you hiding from me? Look at least she's a gay girl around your age...that's good, right?"

Elisa didn't respond for a second, "Ugh everyone keeps yelling and laughing at me for what I did...but I swear she's really cute."

Pauline took a step towards Elisa and gave her a tight hug, "Can I see how she looks?"

"I don't know how she looks." Elisa shut her eyes tightly, preparing herself for the 5th lecture of this whole situation.

It was a minute of silence in the bathroom stalls, Picaud thinking of a kind and non-hurtful way to call Elisa stupid while Elisa was thinking of a way to allow you to meet her.

"Elisa you're the master of how to get catfished 101," She groaned out, pulling away from the hug to look at Elisa, "but...I'm not 100% against it. I think you should just continue letting her expose things about her. Write on your notes everything she says about her personal information and read over it...if things don't match then block her and move on."

Elisa quietly thanked God, no more yelling and shouting at her face. She nodded eagerly at what Picaud said and immediately left the bathrooms. She has to stop being distracted, there is a match happening today and you were the only thing she was thinking about.

That's it??

I wanted to see your face :((

Sorry I have to go now

Love you

I know you're busy

Good luck

Seen 3 hours ago

The players hugged each other, too tired to speak up after the tiresome match. The team won 2 - 0 against Paris fc at parc de princes, and even with the win they knew their performance wasn't the best. It was Chawinga that scored those two, and the rest of the team was lacking a lot chemistry and communication.

Elisa tried her best, but the memory of her losing the ball to the opposing striker keeps haunting her. She knew that Twitter is definitely going to be grilling her for it, and she had made a promise to herself that searching her name on Twitter is not allowed for her mental health.

She remembered you and smiled, at least now she can text you all night without the stress of a match in her head.

Glancing around the stadium, she saw many teenage girls screaming and waving at her to try and get her attention. She gave them a soft smile and waved back, making them scream even louder. Ugh I wish I can get y/n's attention like this.

Hey

The match just finished

I'm sweaty and everyone else is screaming and singing but I wanted to text you

I know

I'm proud of you

I watched you play in front of me and I don't think I've been more proud and attracted to anyone before

Wait

YOURE HERE

Pleaer dobr leave

Please do t

Dnt

Slmt

DONT

😭😭😭

Im staying here baby I'm not going anywhere

I'm going out of the locker room

Where are you

Which section

I'm waving

Wearing a white jacket

Wait why am I looking at a bald man with a white jacket and waving 😟😟

WAIT I SEE HIM

Turn around

Seen

Elisa turned around and had eye contact with you, maintaining it for maybe too long for your comfort. She wanted to make sure it was you, pointing at her phone as she gave you a questioning glance.

Understanding her gesture, you looked down and sent her a message,

that's me :)

Elisa you're scaring me

that's why I didn't send you a picture of my face in the beginning

y/n

Can you come down

ok

The stadium was already empty, having only the ball kids and the cleaners going around and collecting things. You started taking steps down the stairs, getting closer to Elisa as she was standing right on the edge.

"Hey! You're not allowed to get closer!" A security barged near you and placed his palm in your chest, trying to stop you from getting closer to Elisa.

"She's mine, you can leave her." Elisa placed her foot on one of the advertising boards, ready to jump and pull you away from him.

"She doesn't have the right pass, miss." He pushed you backwards, even when you were frozen in place in the first place.

"I don't fucking care what pass she has, I already told you she's mine!" Elisa was fed up with the security man, it's been a long day and having you right in front of her was exactly what she needed, and she won't allow anyone to stop it.

He turned to look at Elisa's angry face, giving her a timid nod before removing his arm from your front torso.

She sighed as she signalled for you to get closer, "sorry, I'm not usually like this."

"Hey..." You shyly gave her a soft wave, almost like it's the first time you guys have talked.

"Hi," she waved back with a lopsided smile, she couldn't believe that you were hiding this from her, "I don't understand why you didn't want me to know how you look when you look like this."

You jokingly slapped her shoulder away, biting your lip in embarrassment.

"No, seriously!" Elisa had a wide grin, suddenly the win they had today didn't matter. It was you that made her happy. She placed her hands on your cheeks, pulling you in so that your foreheads are touching.

"You played so good, Eli," you whispered to her, you knew looking at her eyes will make you melt into the ground, so you kept your eyes down at her lips, "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, I don't think people on the internet are going to agree though," You wrapped your arms around her broad shoulders to pull her more into you. It was slightly harder because of the board between you, but you managed through.

Elisa pulled away from your hug and bent down, making you confused on what she was trying to do. She placed both of her arms around your waist and carried you, turning around to the other side so you can both hug without anything seperating you.

"I don't care what they say on twitter, I am José Mourinho and I think you're a fast, strong, and a hot player," you spoke in a deep voice pointed your finger at her, making her laugh as she pulled you in again in a tight hug.

"Let me take you out," she murmured under your ear, "I need to take you on a date."

Your face was a blushing mess, it was hard to say no to her. Even when she looked attractive on the selfies, seeing her in real life was something else, "I want to go out with you too, but we're going too fast. We've only been texting for one week."

"Everything was going fast when I started our conversation with that picture, I think we will be fine." Elisa hoped she didn't sound desperate, but she cannot let you go, she will never forgive herself.

You laughed at what she said, placing your hands on her back to feel the muscles from the picture, "okay, let's go somewhere,"

She pulled away slightly to look at your face with a pink blush around her face. Bending down, she gave your right cheek a kiss and hugged you again, "ugh I can't believe you're real!"

[shysuccubusstuff]

virgin! choso pt. 1?:

Content: SFW + NSFW; sub turned into dom! choso + facefucking + dacryphilia + mean dom! choso + Exhibitionism + degrading kink + teaser! reader + female reader, although I would say the NSFW part is rather gender neutral + non proof-reader, sorry if there are any mistakes.

Summary: Choso is one of your classmates, he has always been in the background, keeping himself in the corner of the classroom while the rest spoke. So when the two of you get paired up for a group project, you are already worrying about it, but maybe this is the perfect oportunity for the two of you to get to meet each other?

Word count: 1021 + 941.

Note: I read this one fanfic a few days ago and it was just so good I just had to create my own, huge thanks to the creator @/hellokityish for the amazing work + @/_satanISA on Twitter for the amazing fanart that inspired the prompt. Let me know if you want it to become kind of a series

Virgin! Choso who is the one who approaches first. He is wearing his usual dark clothing, his hair tied on two messy buns, his pale skin making his eyebags stand out. He stands before you, books on his hands, you were waiting for him to speak, but after over one minute with the two of you in silence, you finally decide to speak first.

"Hey, so, we are together for the group project, right?" He looks at you, silently nodding as he moves a few strands of his hair ot of the way. "We can meet up in my house if you want--."

"I gotta stay at home, I gotta take care of my younger brother, would you be ok with coming over yourself?" His face is slightly flushed, hands fidgety as he avoids your gaze.

"Sure! No problem, let's exchange phone numbers so we set a time." He nods, taking out his phone and then sending a message to check if the phone number had been added correctly. "Great! Let's meet up this Saturday then."

Virgin! Choso who turns out to be quite the catch. In contrast with what one might think at first, he's an absolute sweetheart, always walking closest to the street when you walk together. Not only that, but he always holds the door for you, buying you small treats each time you meet up.

Virgin! Choso who starts to make you nervous. At first, you try to hide it, after all, it was probably because you didn't have that much experience having male best friends... right? This small attraction becomes even more difficult to ignore the moment Choso gets truly comfortable with you. He becomes more shameless, making small little remarks, his hands always close to you, if they aren't petting you, he is touching your cheeks, smiling at you when he sees you stuffing your face with the food at the cafeteria.

Virgin! Choso who invites you many times to his home. It was fine at first, I mean, you got to play to all his games and to eat tasty snacks he baked, how could you refuse it? That is, of course, until you see him one day with his younger brother. You find Choso, his back turned against you, it seems he hasn't noticed you yet, as he keeps playing with his brother, his smile completely blissed as he touched his soft cheeks while playing peek-a-boo. It might just be your vision acting up, but he is looking even more attractive than ever, his biceps flexed as he lifts his dear brother to entertain him, smile as brigth as the Sun as he keeps playing with him... You get the picture, right?

Virgin! Choso who keeps acting clueless even despite you try to make him realise your feelings. This complex plan comes all crashing down the moment he rests his head against your shoulder, his eyes closed as the Sun hits the two of you. The room is completely empty as you work on the essay late in the afternoon.

"I'm so tired... The Sun is making me want to sleep..." He snuggled against you, his nose rubbing against the fabric of your clothing. "You smell so nice, did you get all pretty for a date or something?" He teased, although his expression wasn't really that amused.

"Nah, they must be running away because they think you're my boyfriend or something."

"I'm sure you're way prettier and kinder than them anyways, no need to hangout with jerks when you have me right here with you." He stopped his movement, his eyes fixated on you as you turned to look at him. "What? I just said the truth, you're far too good for any of those dudes in the course, so there's no need for you to meet anyone, right?"

"Or what? Maybe I'm just meeting them while you're away--"

"No way, I'm always with you. Hope you're not doing something like that, I'm like, your closest friend if not the closest."

"Are you jealous? Don't worry, I will definitely make some time for you, don't be~" You teased him, but it seemed that his expression only got darker.

"Hey, don't joke about that."

"Oh, are you mad? So what if I got a special someone? Not like you really care, right?"

"What if I do care? Maybe I just want you to be only with me." As soon as Choso said those words, both of you remained completely silent, the heat rising towards your faces as the silence became heavier.

"...Does that mean we're like, a thing or something?" Your words came out as a mere whisper, just barely enough for Choso to hear.

"I... I suppose, just if you want, of course." He got away from you, his face completely red as he looked to the other side. "Not like I want to pressure you or anything. Before he was even able to completely finish your sentence, you rushed to him, your lips finally kissing his. He struggled at first, too stunned to even respond, but soon after he was finally able to respond to it, his lips clumsily corresponding yours, soon having to separate due to the lack of air. "That's a yes... right?"

Virgin! Choso who begins to struggle with seeing you face to face, eyes drifting each time you try to make eye contact with him during classes. Not only that, but he even becomes much shier when it comes to physical touch, avoiding it as if you were made of the finest porcelain.

Virgin! Choso who starts to get bolder as time goes by, his hands wandering arond your body even despite being in public. At first these were just small touches, his hands running your arms up and down, caressing you with great care. But then it turned into something else, his hands began to move lower, first it was around your waist, squeezing it as you kept talking to your other friend. Of course, this silly "game" of yours became a thing since your third date, when you decided to go to the cinema together.

The date started as normal, he bought the popcorn and you both seated as the movie started. As soon as the lights were turned off, your little teasing game began.

At the beginning, it was just you and him eating popcorn, sometimes laughing from what happened in the movie, while other times Choso got a bit bolder, moving his face towards you and leaving a cast kiss on your lips. It was then that your hand started to drift towards his body, what began with just brief contact on his arm, moved further, your hand now drifting to his chest, touching it over his oversized sweatshirt, then it moved under it, touching his bare skin and tracing his slightly toned body. Despite the bold move, Choso stood there in complete silent, his face turning as red as a tomato while he kept watching the film, he got closer, whispering into your ear:

"Hey, that's not... You shouldn't do that, we're in public, you know?" Ignoring what he said, you kept moving your hand, now even further down, and while you acted as if you were searching for the popcorn, sometimes passing your hands just close enough to his bulge, teasing him as he tried his best to stay focused on watching the film, his grip tightening around the fabric of his pants. Just as he turned around to call you out, he was interrupted by your hand grabbing his bulge, it was no longer subtle, of course not. Your hand was grabbing it, well, more like massaging it over the fabric, Choso chocked on the popcorn, then had to cough as he almost chocked again because of the drink. "That's... That's not the popcorn." He put his hand over yours, making sure you were unable to move even an inch more. "Fuck... You know we're in public, right? I thought you were shy but now I know I was completely mistaken." You acted as if he didn't speak, your hand still touching it while your other hand started to make its way towards his face.

"Come on, darling... It's not like the film is good, plus, there's barely anyone here, please~? Just a little bit..." His gaze pierced into yours, face completely flushed as he started to look around.

"Just a bit... but don't think about anything weird, ok?" He moved his hand away, allowing you to carefully unzip his jeans. "Hey! That's... that's not what you said... Fuck, we're going to be found..." Despite his complaints, he did nothing to stop you, simply covering his mouth with his hand. "I swear to... No more than this, I'm warning you." Once again, you ignored his warnings, taking out his cock and kneeling to the cushioned floor in the room. "Don't you dare...-- Fuck..." His words were cut short as soon as you started to trace the tip of his cock with your tongue, letting your saliva run down his shaft, then inserting it little by little into your mouth. "I should... I should have known you wouldn't even care about what I said, if that's what you want, fine by me." He took your head between his hands, abruptly forcing his cock inside you, the tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag on it. "This is what you get for fucking messing with me, you thinkthat just because I'm less extroverted you can order me around? Know your fucking place." Without delay, his hips started to move, pistoning against your poor mouth, the saliva running down your chin as he kept forcing his cock inside your oral cavity. "I fucking dare you to keep on testing me, bet you love the possibility of anyone finding us right now, seeing you on your knees in the middle of the film sucking my cock like a good little pet." Choso's voice kept resonating inside your head, the slight praise melting your brain bit by bit as his velvety voice kept whispering those foul words.

You opened your mouth wider, letting him mess you up as much as he wanted as he kept pushing your head against his groin, your eyes rolling back as you started to touch yourself over your clothes. "Now you're not even trying to fight against it, oh... someone is getting closer, you think you can keep still for a moment?" Before he allowed you to answer, he was already forcing his whole length inside you, his dick twitching as hot ropes of cum filled your whole mouth.

Choso steadied his hands on your head, petting your hair as you swallowed his essence, at the same time, the person was making his way to the exit. Just as they were about to leave, they turned around, almost as if they were looking for something in the same seating line you both were. Just as you were about to gag on it Choso pulled you by the hair softly, letting you breath as the tears kept falling from your eyes. Then, he wrapped his arms around you, helping you get up and wipping your tears. He then kissed your forehead, peppering a few kisses all over your face, finally cleaning a few strands of saliva that were still in your chin. "Are you ok? Sorry for being so rough, I just... I got a bit angry because I was afraid of them kicking us out and people finding out why. I promise I will make it up to you as soon as we get home, baby." Just then, the film finished, the people leaving the room in complete silence as you two tried to catch your breath.

[phantomwithbreakfast]

~ Forbidden Love ~

DP Phanfic story.

Oh well.

Here’s a teaser from chapter 07 - Actions and Reactions

(You can read the whole chapter or the whole story on FanFiction.net—not finished yet—currently working on chapter 08)

———————

Teaser loading…

Summary:

Pitch Pearl (coming soon into the story — so that’s a spoiler I guess).

Trigger Warning {Bullying and Harassment — Violence — Emotional Distress — Strong Language}

I rated it as T, but I think maybe it has to be M, I don’t know.

—

Danny’s heart sank, his fingers trembling as he tapped on Tucker’s message, revealing the link. Dread pooled in his stomach, coiling tighter with every second. Another picture. Another post. His chest felt heavy as the image loaded, and there it was—the photo Mikey had snapped of him in class earlier this week.

In the photo he was smiling, cheeks flushed, clearly blushing while looking at his phone. The caption beneath it read:


Mikey’s post:


“Definitely dating Phantom ;)”


The floor seemed to drop out from under Danny as he stared at the picture. His heart pounded in his chest, the rush of anger mixing with heavy embarrassment. How could things get worse? How could Mikey do this just for attention?


Danny clenched his phone so hard it nearly slipped out of his grip. Clout. Mikey did this for clout, for likes, for the attention of being the guy who ’exposed’ Danny. He wasn’t even sure if Mikey believed any of it, but that didn’t matter. The damage was done. The post was already gaining traction, with comments popping up beneath it like wildfire.


Danny’s blood boiled. His vision blurred with frustration, his body tensing as his mind raced. He could feel his ghost core stirring inside him, reacting to the emotional storm building in his chest. This wasn’t just embarrassing—it was humiliating. He wanted to scream. He wanted to disappear. Most of all, he wanted to stop Mikey from making everything worse.


He glanced at the comments below, his hands trembling.


FootballKing01: “Knew it! Fentgay’s been hiding this the whole time. #PhantomDating #Exposed”


CreepyMcCreepFace: “OMG I knew he had a secret life! What a freak!”


PhantomFanboyKW: “No surprise here. Fenton’s a loser either way.”


WestonWS: "No, it can't be! I'm telling you, Fenton is Phantom!"


Danny’s stomach turned, the heat rising in his face. His heart raced as the rage built up inside him. How dare Mikey post this without permission? How dare he mock Danny like that for a few likes? Didn’t he know what this could do to him? Didn’t he know how dangerous this was? The connection between him and Phantom was getting closer to being exposed with each post like this.
He felt the familiar icy cold pulse of his ghost core reacting to his emotions, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm. He couldn’t let Phantom take over, not here, not like this. But he was tired—tired of being picked on, tired of having his privacy violated.


Danny threw his phone down onto the bed, sitting up in frustration. His fists clenched at his sides as the anger bubbled over. How was he going to fix this? How could he possibly stop this spiral?

———————

Made in ProCreate. Drawings + GIF

DP copyright/rights, belongs to Nickelodeon.

So. If I don’t draw Danny like… angry, he looks so… weird. 😭

I draw scenes to get a vision of the situation. (Duh)

And if I may be honest, this specific story I’m writing hits me very personal. Just trying to get over my PTSD here! (the bullying parts)! So it’s kind of therapy I guess.

[cottonlemonade]

Long Distance Relationship

word count: 970 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: University AU!Kageyama x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warnings: none

request: hi! can i get a 32 and a 33 for lunch and then study with kageyama? thank you i'm so excited! xx || fluffy, 2.16am LDR with boyfriend Kageyama

You stretched and heard a pop that you didn’t know if it came from your neck or the rickety old desk chair. It was late, a quick phone check told you it was 2 in the morning. A wide yawn spread over your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, then blinked a few times to get your vision back into focus. You had stopped comprehending any of the sentences in front of you hours ago but hoped that through sheer willpower and the mere fact that you had the decency to pretend to study, it would all work out in the end. Your eyes fell onto your lock screen, lit up briefly by some spam mail. It showed a picture of you and your boyfriend Tobio with your heads stuck together, each holding a small carton of milk while squinting into the sun. It was one of your favorites because of the way he scrunched his nose. When you were accepted to different universities your heart had broken a little but you promised each other you’d be the high school sweethearts that beat the odds. You had nothing to worry about with him. The only other love he’d ever known was volleyball and besides that, you and breathing, Tobio didn’t pay anything much mind. The first year at university worked out great. You usually met right in the middle between Tokyo and Kyoto every other weekend so neither of you had to do the 3-hour train ride each way and could spend a bit more time together. Plus, those tickets were cheaper, meaning you could see each other more often. Your heart began to ache when you thought of your last get-together and how you didn’t want to let him go at the station, how he almost missed his train because he couldn’t stop kissing you, and how you both held back your tears until the other was out of sight. Because in your second year, the workload became greater and meeting became more difficult, you hadn’t seen him in over three weeks. However, the little countdown of days right next to the time, now in the single digits, gave you a little hope. Your roommate snored softly and turned around in her bed. You checked the lamp again to make sure it wasn’t pointed directly at her.

A rush went through your body when your phone buzzed and you picked up immediately.

“Hey you, why are you still up?”, you said quietly.

“I- Hi.”

“Hi.”, you grinned. Your fatigue was completely wiped away. It was so nice to hear his voice and you were barely able to contain your excitement.

“I was wondering how your day went.”

“At 2 am?”

“… yes.”

“Well, it’s much better now thank you, how about you? You sound out of breath. Were you jogging? At this time of night? That’s dangerous, baby, please get back as soon as possible.”

“I’m still quite a bit away but I’ll let you know when I’m home.”, he muttered and his tone made you smile.

You knew exactly what he looked like right now - hand in his pocket, probably looking at the tip of his shoe drawing random patterns on the ground.

“I miss you.”, you said into the silence that followed.

“I miss you, too.”

“But hey, only”, you briefly lifted your phone away from your ear to check, “9 more days until we see each other again, right?”

“Yeah uhm… about that…”

“You’re not gonna make it?”, you asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

“No no, it’s not that. Uhm, which was your dorm room again?”

“Second floor, third from the left, why?” Your heart did a tentative little bounce.

Something that sounded very much like a pebble on glass tapped against your window. You stood up and almost tripped trying to see out into the night. There, taking a few steps back so he would be seen in the cone of light from the campus lantern stood your boyfriend, wearing his favorite sweats and the hoodie you had given him for your last anniversary. You clasped a hand over your mouth to not squeak too loudly and Tobio heard scrambling on the other end. Half a minute later the lights in the foyer went on, then the front door opened and you stood there with only one slipper and a sweater that was inside out. He jogged over to you.

“What are you- how are you- oh my god, you’re here!”

He buried his face in your shoulder when you pulled him in for a long, tight hug.

You collected your second shoe on the way back up to your room and settled into your bed. Tears were welling in your eyes at his familiar smell as you drew him close. Too precious to waste with much else, you combed your fingers through his hair, while Tobio tried his best to be as close to you as humanly possible. He wrapped himself securely around your soft, squishy form. There was little talking involved, cuddling and the occasional gentle kiss were all that mattered. It was cozy and familiar being in each other’s arms like this and you wished the moment would never end. You could have fallen asleep but just as you were happily drifting off with the comforting scent of his shampoo brushing your nose a phone buzzed. Tobio made a low grumbling noise against your neck.

“I have to go.”, he whispered. The clock on your roommate’s nightstand showed 4 am.

“No, stay…”

“I want to. But I can’t…”, he didn’t make any attempts to move, just kept mumbling against you, “I have training in a few hours.”

He looked up at you, sleepy but so so happy. “And we’ll meet again in 9 days, right?”

a/n: request for @haikyuusunsalad

This was the softest prompt ever oh my gosh 🥺🥺 thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed it!

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

ooh! what about vox hypnotising the reader to sign a soul contract with him? 👀

love your work :D

This is gonna be angsty, but not in the way you'd normally expect >:3

More Than Anything [Vox x Reader]

"Ẇ̸̛̞̑h̸͈̰͕͊͝y̴̪͍̠̽ won't you let me do this for you?!"

Vox glitched out as you turned away from him. The two of you had been arguing for at least an hour and his nerves had frayed thin a good while ago.

The two of you had only been dating for a couple of months when some sneaky jackass paparazzi demon snagged a picture of you two h*lding hands while on a date. The image had spread like wildfire and everyone was curious to dig up as much information on you as possible. Rumors about the legitimacy of the photo, Valentino and Vox's neverending situationship, arguments about your character, you name it. It was all anyone could talk about.

At first, you both legitimately believed things would smooth over and the public would move on to the next celebrity scandal within a short amount of time. Reality only partially heeded your predictions.

The occasional talk show would hang on to the topic and some people had ship wars about it on sinblr, but for the most part, hell had moved on. Vox's enemies, however, had not.

It was a day just like any other when it happened. You had been on your way back to your apartment after visiting Vox at his office. He'd been having a rough day and you brought him food for an impromptu lunch date to lift his spirits. You had just turned the corner to the street you lived on, the looming tower of the Vee's still watching over you from afar. Hands grabbed you from an alleyway and you didn't even have a chance to gasp, let alone scream as you struggled against the sickly-sweet-smelling cloth pressed against your face.

You kicked and screamed, but felt your body growing heavy fast. You knew how to protect yourself to an extent, but you weren't a powerful sinner, nor trained for something like this. Your vision blurred and the last thing you saw were bright cyan flashes and blood splattered across the brick walls as you slipped into darkness.

When you woke up wearing your favorite oversized hoodie in the large bed of your boyfriend. You were confused as fuck until the memory slammed back into you. You call out for Vox and hear something crash nearby and the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps before he yanks open the doors to his room with a frazzled look.

At first, he'd been all over you. He'd been the one to clean the blood off of your unconscious body after he slaughtered the group of thugs in a white-hot rage. You hadn't known it, but Vox had been secretly watching you on his monitors to make sure you got home safely. He'd started doing it long before the two of you had started dating and the potential of what could have happened if he hadn't been stalking you out of the goodness of his heart chilled him to his core.

"I could've lost you," he grits out as his shaking claws dig into the sheets beneath him. You cupped his face and tried to reassure him, but he only dug his claws in deeper, shredding the fabric with fear and stress. He lets out a shaky sigh before his hand lifts to cup your own. His expression shifts as he looks up at you. "But never again."

"What do you mean?" you ask him softly as you search his eyes for the meaning behind the look he gave you.

He takes both your hands in his own, placing them on your lap. "Make a deal with me. Sign a contract. If I have control over your soul, then I'll always know where you are," he said seriously. "I'll be able to keep you safe."

You shake your head, leaning up to kiss his screen. "No, baby we've talked about this before. I know I'm not the strongest sinner, but I don't want anyone to own my soul but me. I'll get stronger and one day you won't need to worry anymore. Just give me time."

"We don't have time," Vox snapped. The vision of you passed out in the alleyway, covered in the thug's blood was ingrained in the back of his mind. It was at this moment he cursed his active imagination. All he could think of was the horrible scenarios you could be in if he didn't take action.

At first, the two of you were able to talk sweetly enough while you tried to change the other's mind. But as you kept going in circles, you both got more frustrated and it eventually blew up into the fight you were having now.

"Just ļ̷̲͊ę̸̇ț̷̭̅ ̸̖̝̠̔̋͆m̵̧̈́͋é̷̈́͜͠ͅ do this for you!" Vox screamed as he yanked you to turn and face him. His expression was distraught, his face short-circuiting from the anger and fear.

His expression crumbled as he let his head drop. "Please..."

Vox's claws twitch against your shoulders, "I'm sorry..." He mutters softly under his breath.

You look down at him and open your mouth to say something, only to gasp as red and blue fill your vision. Vox shakes as he watches your face relax, your mouth hanging open, and the reflection of his pained expression and black hypnotic spirals in your half-lidded eyes.

"But I can't lose you," he said as he trembled. "You're the only good thing I've had in hell and I can't replace you."

The room sparked with electricity and the entire tower powered down as he made you sign the deal. Your soul for his endless devotion and protection. Even if one day you discovered what he did. Even if you hated him for it. He'd be yours until the end of time.

You blink slowly, shaking your head and feeling a little fuzzy as you look down at Vox. His head was still lowered and you remembered he had just apologized to you and said he'd believe in you to get stronger. You smile softly at him and lift under the edge of his screen to make him look at you.

"Thank you for understanding," you say as you gently kiss him. "I promise, you'll have nothing to worry about. I'll get stronger and we'll be okay."

Vox sighed, looking at you with a tired, loving smile as he kissed you back. "Yeah... Everything will be just fine."

[goldenwilliamson]

hard launch | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: merry christmas!!! enjoy some christmassy awfc fluff x

summary: reader and leah film their parts in the arsenal christmas gifting video. reader receives a gift that shows everyone who's girlfriend she is.

word count: 1.3k

The Arsenal media team had set up a Christmas tree lined with presents for all the girls to open for a video. You obliged happily, excited about having a present to open before Christmas. Leah however had to be convinced.

"It's bad luck! You can't have us opening gifts before Christmas!" She said, her voice firm.

"Ease up Lee, it's just a little present from the club," you said, rubbing the space between her shoulder blades while silently laughing at your girlfriends commitment to tradition.

"My Mum can't find out about this, she'll have a fit," Leah says, eyeing the tree scornfully.

"Well she might see this video when it goes up," Frimmy says from behind the camera.

You move out of the shot now and watch through the screen of the camera as Leah steps into frame and speaks directly to the lens, "Do I look as awkward as I feel? Because I'm sorry Mum, I don't normally do this before Christmas day, I'm being forced to."

Shaking your head, you and many of the other girls watch on in anticipation as Leah unwraps her gift, and when she pulls out the electric keyboard you all exchange knowing glances. It's no secret that learning piano has been Leah's latest mission, and you more than anyone have been along for the journey. Most evenings now your night was soundtracked by Leah sitting at the piano stool, reading her sheet music and practicing.

When she was preparing for her performance with the BBC orchestra you must have heard her play that Shania Twain song about 200 times before you had to cut her off.

"You've got it Leah, I promise," you had stressed to her.

"I'm just so nervous, I need to know I can do it perfectly!" She demanded, starting to play it again.

"Nope. No. I'm sorry, but I'm cutting you off. It's time for bed," you had said. Even though you were always supportive of her endeavours, you knew she was only stressing herself out with the drive for perfection.

"Baby, please just let me practice it one more time, then bed," she pleaded like a little kid asking for five more minutes of play time.

"Fine. Once more. But I am telling you it's been perfect 98% of the times you've played," you said.

She just waved you away and played it once more all the way through, perfectly of course, and then finally conceded to your request. When you finally crawled into bed together that night you turned towards Leah, murmuring into the darkness.

"I'm starting to get worried that I'll have Shania Twain stuck in my head forever."

Leah giggled but reassured you, "I won't be playing it forever. And trust me, I'm sick of it too."

Now today she was sitting down, playing the little electric keyboard and trying to get everyone to guess what she was playing. You knew straight away it was Adele, because she had played it for you just last night, but it took everyone else a little longer to catch on.

Leah, pleased with her present moved along to allow for the next girls to go through. You stepped in, ready to unwrap your presents with Steph and Kyra, but before you got to pull off the paper one of the Arsenal media people pulled you out.

"We'll get you to open yours on your own, Y/N," they told you. You weren't really sure why, but you trusted their vision and waited for your turn.

When you were finally standing in front of the camera after Steph and Kyra, you felt your present through the wrapping and you could tell that it was a piece of clothing. As you pulled it out, you unfolded it to reveal a t-shirt. And you instantly realised why they'd got you to open it on your own. It seemed to be a fan made t-shirt that had pictures of Leah all over the front as well as LEAH WILLIAMSON printed in large pink block letters running down the side.

You bent over laughing, not even sure if you should show it off to the camera. While you and Leah were officially together, it hadn't really been confirmed publicly. The media team knew that and obviously got you on your own so they could easily leave your clip out of the video.

"Really?" You looked up at the small crew, holding the shirt up next to your face.

Leah, watching on began to laugh now, seeing what you'd been given.

"Best present of the day guys!" She exclaimed.

"So ridiculous," you said as all the girls behind the camera laughed.

"Hard launch," Kyra said, teasing you both.

"Shut up," you smiled, "This won't be going on the Instagram," you said assertively, pointing directly down the barrel of the camera.

"Why don't you put in on, Y/N," Leah suggests.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" You narrow your eyes at your girlfriend, knowing how much of a kick she would get out of seeing you wearing the top, looking like a fan.

"Go on," Steph urges you.

Begrudgingly, you pull your training shirt up over your head, receiving playful wolf whistles from the girls before you pull your new t-shirt down over your body. When it was on you held your arms out, showing it off.

"How do I look?" You said, giving a little spin as the girls clapped for you.

Leah walked over towards you and held onto your waist, admiring herself on your shirt.

"I bet this inflates your ego," you say, seeing the cheeky sparkle in her eyes.

Leah didn't even say anything in response, she just moved to stand next to you, threw her arm around your shoulder in a very platonic manner and posed towards the camera.

"I love meeting fans," she said, smiling at her own joke.

"Ha ha," you said sardonically, rolling your eyes and nudging her away from you.

"We should get a photo of this though," Leah said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and handing it off to Steph who snapped a picture of you both. When you looked back at it Leah wore a very cocky smirk and looked as if you were posing for a photo with your favourite footballer.

Katie stood over your shoulder to peer at the photo, "Oh that's got to go in a photo dump girls."

"I don't think so," you said quickly, leaving it there. Though you did wear the top around for the rest of the day, finding it surprisingly comfortable, until you tucked it away into your bag before heading home.

You had honestly forgotten about it until Christmas Day when you were scrolling on Instagram in bed after the long day of festivities and you saw Leah had tagged you in a photo. She was right next to you sitting on her phone with a smirk on her face.

"What have you posted?" You asked, clicking onto it and swiping through the various Christmas photos until you saw your own bashful face reflected in the photo that Steph had taken of you in the shirt. The caption read, Best time of year (love my fans @Y/N.Y/L/N) x.

Katie McCabe had already liked the post and tagged you in a comment, President of the Leah Williamson fan club aren't ya? @Y/N.Y/L/N.

"Leah!" You said sharply, looking at your girlfriend in disbelief.

"What? It's a great photo," she said.

"You're fuelling the fire," you said, referencing the ongoing speculation online about your relationship.

"So what? I don't care if people know we're together, do you?" Leah said simply.

You realised that you also didn't care, in fact you would be proud for people to know, so you shook your head.

"Of course I don't," you said, reassuring her that you were okay with this.

"Good, then stop being grumpy about the photo," she said, leaning over to give you a kiss.

"It's such a bad photo! I genuinely look like a teenage fan girl," you laughed.

"That's what makes it so great," Leah says, giggling at her ability to annoy you.

You shake your head and pick up your phone again, feeling confident in your relationship with Leah, no longer caring if people know or they don't. This leads you to respond to Katie's comment with two simple words that are enough to send all the fans spiralling over the small confirmation: Hard launch?

[flowerandblood]

The First Impression (Drabble)

[ coffee maker • Aemond x student • female ]

[ warnings: angst, him being a mean bitch ]

[ description: He hates his job and she makes him hate it even more. Or maybe not entirely? A very old request from the anon. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Word count: 700

My other works chapters: Masterlist

_____

He hated his job. He couldn't think of anything worse and more boring than pouring coffee, cutting fucking cheesecakes and signing cups for little hipster girls who then took pictures of themselves with them, grinning like idiots.

However, nothing annoyed him more than those momentary, watchful glances as if someone was under the impression that he was just imagining things, looking at him more closely to make sure that in fact one of his eyes was prosthetic.

He felt like pouring hot coffee in their faces then and asking: anything else?

Of course, he couldn't do that, and that vision remained only in the realm of his dreams. He wanted to support his mother and pay his own rent while studying at the University, and few employers were willing to go along with him when it came to working hours.

He had no choice but to endure it somehow.

He was devastated when it turned out that, according to the fashion, they were supposed to learn how to make different patterns on coffee so that they resembled different shapes or characters. He felt like an idiot when, for the tenth time, he had to repeat the movements that would allow him to create a heart shape out of the liquid, and then he had to do the same thing, only that for the female customers.

For them it was romantic, for him it was pathetic.

One day he saw a girl bending over a cup he handed her – she was sitting at a table taking a picture of the design she had ordered, which was a flower.

He thought she was probably some kind of influencer and rolled his eyes, thinking that at a time when someone had to work hard like he did, others were simply putting their pictures on social media, making a product of their lives.

She surprised him when she approached him, undeterred by his stony face expressing boredom and disapproval.

"Could I ask for that most complicated pattern, with the dragon's head?" She said, and he closed his eyes thinking that this was the worst day of his life.

Why, why did it have to be him?

"You don't like doing this." She muttered finally, trying to make out his answer from his face. He turned involuntarily over his shoulder, not wanting his manager to hear him.

"Not really." He admitted reluctantly, thinking after a moment that he was a moron, that she would write about him on her blog and he would lose his job because of her.

"We study at the same university, so I have to warn you." She finally confessed.

"Your boss hired me as a secret client. This is my last day of work. He wants to know how you talk to your clients. But I won't tell him about it. Just be careful because he might do it again. I wouldn't want you to lose your job over such stupidity." She said quietly, leaning towards him, and he froze, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

"– fuck – I –"

"Don't say anything or he'll see it on the cameras later. Just make me that coffee. By the way, you're very good at it. I even sent a picture of your creation to my mum." She said with amusement and he swallowed hard, tense and nodded, taking a clean mug from the counter.

"Right."

He figured he'd put his whole heart of stone into the design on her coffee as a thank you for warning him, and made out his boss's face with his big glasses and moustache. When he placed her cup in front of her she burst into loud, warm laughter.

"Beautiful. This is better than the previous one. He's even similar. So sad to drink." She sneered, pulling her wallet out of her bag, taking out her credit card.

"Thank you. You know." He said, tapping the amount she should pay into the terminal, handing it to her so she could put her card close to it.

"It's okay. I'm just glad I had the chance to meet you and talk to you for at least a moment. See you at the University?" She asked lightly and he nodded, embarrassed.

"See you."

[famwhy]

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited..."

"...for this moment?"

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

Yandere! Rodrick Heffley X F!Reader

Synopsis: Rodrick Heffley couldn't believe his own luck; you noticed him—you noticed him. This must've been fate, right? You must've loved him, there was no way you didn't. And if you loved him, then what he was doing was okay, right?—there was nothing wrong with it? Of course not, after all, you two were going to get married in the future, he was sure of it! All of this would just turn out to be a silly story you would tell your future kids about how you two first met. Yeah, that's all this was—one big, silly story.

Warnings: Mean!Reader, Depictions of toxic relationships, Stalking

"Dude, you're staring again."

Rodrick knew; he knew that he was staring again. But, how could he not? How could he not stare when the most drop-dead gorgeous girl in school was within just 10 feet of him?—when you were right there, before his very own eyes?

So close, and yet, so far.

"Dude!"

You stood by your locker—lips painted in that really pretty shade of cherry red to match with your striking eyeliner—basically demanding everyone's undivided attention; attention which you undoubtedly got.

Though, even if you—by some chance in this fucked up world—didn't receive that attention, Rodrick wouldn't hesitate to give it to you; Rodrick would give all of that attention times ten to you. Hell, if you so much as asked him for it, Rodrick would give you the world.

"Hey!"

He was melting—he knew he was—turning into putty at your very arms, even if they weren't anywhere near him. Regardless, his bones morphed into mush and his face went as red as the lipstick you adorned on that pretty mouth of yours he longed to get a taste of. 

He could gaze at you for days and never get enough.

What he couldn't gaze at for days, however, was what occurred next.

A pair of strong arms sprung out of nowhere, wrapping around your torso and lifting you into the air in a way that had molten lava coursing through the Heffley's veins, heating up his insides and igniting a fire within; a fire that ached to burn the male adorning a bright, varsity jacket beside you.

His eyes narrowed, teeth grinding over one another and skin losing all hints of previous colour, going as blank as an empty canvas sat aboard an abandoned easel at the sight before him.

That man—Lenwood Heath—oh how Rodrick loathed him; despised the very air he breathed; cursed the very home he inhabited. If the ground you strutted over was worshipped by the aspiring musician, then the ground that Lenwood trudged over was spat on by him.

Oh, how he could just picture it now, wrapping his hands around the neck of that pathetic, little—

"Heffley!"

Rodrick blinked, suddenly able to register the hand waving before his very eyes. "Huh?"

The blurry form in front of him quickly grew clear with a couple more blinks, revealing one of his best friends with a brow raised, lips pulled taut, and a pointed look on his face. "You fazed out staring at her again."

A longing sigh left the lips of the drummer. "Can you blame me, Chris? She's just so... so..."

"Hot?"

"Ethereal," Rodrick smiled, tunnel vision drowning out the dumb teen next to you in favour of only seeing you. "She'll love me one day, I know it."

"Dude—" Chris deadpanned, "—she doesn't even know you exist."

"Uh, yeah she does," responded the other musician, "Of course she knows I exist."

Chris' lips pulled up after that, and—even through his peripheral—Rodrick could see the smugness radiating off his friend's smirk. "Oh yeah? Prove it. Walk over there right now and say hi."

"What do you think this is? Some high school drama? I'm not doing that."

"Alright dude," came the voice of his friend again, taking on a bit of a defeated tone this time, "just tryna help you build up your confidence, that's all."

Rodrick's face scrunched up, now turning to fully face his friend and fellow band member. "My confidence is—"

A light 'ahem' cut through the air.

The Heffley whipped his head to the side—brows furrowing and lips parting in preparation for a sassy speech—when he saw just who exactly was clearing their throat at him.

His breath audibly hitched in his throat, wind getting stuck in his pipe—hindering his ability to respire as his vision flooded with that familiar pink he knew all too well. 

"Do you mind?" The question came out your pretty lips with an air of both boredom and your own bit of sass—both fists placed upon your hips as you stared at him pointedly.

Oh, you stared at him—you were staring at him.

Holy shit.

He didn't know what to do; what to say; what to think. His mind was a muddled-up mess with you sat in the middle of it all—in the eye of the storm, occupying your throne within his thoughts while the rest of his head went to shit.

But, the real you, the one stood before him right now, was quickly growing impatient. He could tell from the way you started tapping your foot against the ground in a quick rhythm—one of your cuter habits, he noticed; not that they weren't all cute.

A huff—escaping your lips; exasperated and very much fed-up. He was losing you. 

No, no, no, no, no.

His eyes widened, pupils shaking as his breath grew quicker and shorter and sharper. A tightness grew about his chest, contracting his lungs—folding them in on themselves—and tensing his muscles to the point they turned into multiple ropes that unfairly seized him by the throat.

He was panicking, and so—as any panicking person would do—said the first thing that popped into his head—

"Y/N."

—it was your name, of course. That was always at the forefront of his mind.

You scrunched up your nose in that super cute way that you do before speaking again—tone sounding a little... judgemental—"Do I know you?"

A harsh jab to his side and a pair of smug eyes burning a hole through his head followed after that sentence. Annoying.

With a quick glare directed straight at Chris, Rodrick rose his right arm to rub the left—as if to get rid of the lingering buzz of pain left in his friend's wake—before devoting his full attention back to you. "It's uh, Heffley—Rodrick Heffley?"

You narrowed your eyes, staring at him a little incredulously now—but he didn't mind, so long as you were staring at him and not past him, he didn't mind at all. Rodrick was on cloud nine anytime you gave him just an inch of attention, be it good or bad.

Everything about you was just so—

"Wait..." Rodrick blinked—today must've been his lucky day because you were gracious enough to greet him with lit up eyes once you broke through his thoughts. So pretty. "Heffley as in the same Heffley who destroyed Heather Hills' Sweet Sixteen?"

He grimaced a little at the memory, but nodded nonetheless. 

Your lips quirked up—by God, please place them on his—

"Y'know, I've been meaning to thank you for that..."

"Thank, uh—thank me?" Dear lord, he could feel his own heartbeat drumming against his ears.

"Yeah, thanks to you, I was able to take Hills' throne." A glint reflected off your beautiful eyes after you said that but Rodrick was too busy admiring your everything to decipher what it was. Was that a new pair of shoes? They suited you.

His eyes snapped back up to your face when a sudden warmth coated both of his shoulders, a familiar hand making its way into his peripheral. "Yup, that's my buddy." 

Your eyes briefly left the dark-haired male's form to flit over to his companion, and he found himself grinding his teeth against one another just as he had done before; the pink in his gaze quickly being replaced by a heated crimson.

But, as quick as the overwhelming urge to slam his own friend against the wall came—to rip his very skin off and watch as blood flowed straight out of him—it was gone—just in time for your eyes to return to the Heffley and send another explosion of those pretty, little insects to attack his insides and fill him with so much warmth, he found himself wishing to share it with you—

—God, please let him share it with you.

"Can you move now? I need to get to class." 

"Oh, uh, right." He damn-near stumbled over himself in order to make way for you, harshly shoving Chris to the side too—and if he could, he would've rolled out a red carpet for you as well. Your precious feet deserved more than the filthy school floor.

"Ack! Dude!"

Rodrick paid no mind to his friend's scowling form beside him—choosing, instead, to train his gaze onto your figure as it slowly grew smaller the further you walked away.

For a moment, as you brushed passed him, an overwhelming cherry scent flooded his nose, coursing through his innards to roll his eyes towards the back of his head and whisk him up into the air so that he could sit upon a cloud as high as the earth would allow; as high as you would allow.

But, of course, not higher than you—never higher than you. 

"She loves me—" Rodrick smiled; dopey and wide, "—I just know it."

"Whatever you say, dude."

'Whatever he says'? No, this was written in the stars. This was the epitome of fate; of destiny woven upon the finest of silks and stored in the most beautiful of halls—indestructible and unalterable.

This was love—true love.

And you knew it too—you must've. Why else would you have approached him the way you had? 

And it's because of your reciprocated feelings, that Rodrick felt perfectly fine with leaning forward in his seat next period—right up to the back of your neck—and taking another huge whiff that knocked him straight out of commission.

"The hell are you doing, Heffley?!" 

A voice snapped him out of his appreciation time—cruelly ripping him away from his blissful state of basking in your glory and forcing him to look over to his side.

Lenwood.

Rodrick rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat to kick his shoes atop his desk and rest his hands behind his head as he said, "Nothing."

The jock narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing as he parted his lips—gearing up for a threat, no doubt—when another voice cut through the air.

"Something the matter, Mr Heath?"

The jock quickly muttered out a denial before turning to face forward again.

Rodrick smirked.

"Mr Heffley, feet off the table please."

He rose his brows but said nothing, choosing to obey quietly—if only to have the opportunity to stay in the same room as you for just a little while longer.

Speaking of you, the commotion seemed to have caught your attention, because you spun around in your seat, eyes landing solely on his figure for the second time that day.

His breath hitched. It was definitely meant to be.

It stayed like that for a few moments, the two of you just staring at one another as the world dissipated into irrelevance around you. Your beautiful, E/C pools were enough for him to get lost in for hours—just as beguiling as the rest of you was. 

Alas, the moment couldn't last forever, and you shattered it with the tug of your lips downwards alongside the cute scrunch of your nose before spinning back around with the elegance of a ballroom dancer.

Ah, he could stare at you all day and never get enough.

He said that already, didn't he? Oh well, it deserved to be reiterated if the subject it was referring to was you.

Today had been a good day—one that he was sure would only end up getting better with the upcoming pep rally in a few periods time. An excuse to devote his entire attention to you without getting weird or judgemental looks? Yes please.

Though, to be entirely honest, he didn't care for those looks. He was too busy hoping, wishing, praying to be the one you woke up next to in the morning; the one whose embrace you cuddled into and found comfort within; the one who'd get to spend the rest of his life with you—

—God, please let him spend the rest of his life with you.

He couldn't help it—staring at you with the intensity he had during your cheer session once the pep rally did come around. 

Your lashes fluttered prettily as you peered up at the stands, hands covered by the balls you adorned and lips jutting out in that perfect pout that he just wanted to completely devour—

Ah, his throat was feeling a little dry. Just another effect you had on him.

Unfortunately, he had to part from the stands for a few moments to go grab himself a drink but, for you—his darling pretty girl—he made sure to rush back as soon as he possibly could.

Unfortunately, this speed of his meant that he wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings, and not paying much attention to his surroundings could only lead to one thing: an incident.

The can in his hands slid straight out of his grasp, falling to the ground with a loud 'crash!' as liquid scattered the area, still bubbling and fizzing up even out of its container. A pair of white shoes seeped into brown at the end, and Rodrick found himself trailing the legs adorning them upwards, eyes falling upon a white skirt stained in the same brown that was slathered over the floor.

His gaze kept going upwards, only stopping when they met with an infuriated pair of dazzling eyes narrowed back at him; a familiar, infuriated pair of dazzling eyes.

"Ugh! What the fuck did you do, you freak?! You ruined my outfit! No wonder why Heather fucking hates you!"

No, no, no, no.

He was sorry, he was so sorry. Just don't hate him, please forgive him. God, he didn't know what he'd do with himself if you didn't forgive him.

He wanted to beg for your forgiveness—grovel on his knees and hold onto you like his fucking lifeline—but you were ushered into the toilet by those... friends of yours before he even had the chance, and he was left there, eyes wide as his whole body trembled.

Make it up to you. He had to make it up to you

But how could he when you were constantly surrounded by people who got in his way?—when you both were?

First Lenwood, then his own friend, and now, your friends.

Where could he get you completely and utterly alone?—when it could just be the two of you?

That was when it struck him, and his feet started moving before the cogs in his head even could.

He arrived before you—bathroom trips always took awhile when it came to you and your posse, so he didn't have to worry about you being faster than him.

Setting up wasn't too hard either, he knew where everything was and also learned enough from his dad about women to know how to woo one back into loving you.

All he had to do... was wait for you.

And wait he did. It felt like years had passed as he stood shrouded in darkness, each second as agonising and torturous as the last—if not, more so. But it was worth the wait—you were worth the wait—and soon, the sound of the door opening was accompanied by a loud yell.

"Mom! I'm home!"

Silence.

"Mom?!"

Again. Nothing.

"Fucking—of course."

His lips tugged down, heart practically being pulled on by the words that spilled from your mouth.

Yeah, sure it was convenient that your mom was never home, but he couldn't help the way he cursed the woman who gave birth to such an amazing being but didn't have the heart to properly stick around and bring her up.

But nevermind that, he could hear thuds growing closer to him.

A click. Then a flip. Then—

"What the actual fuck?!" 

Rodrick grinned, arms opening wide as his heart picked up in both pace and volume, drumming against his ears like he often would his set in band practice. "Welcome home, sweetheart!"

"Heffley?! What are you doing in my house?!"

Your eyes were wide, pupils shaking as your muscles lost their strength and your bag went tumbling down. Aw, you must've been happy to see him.

"I wanted to apologise," said he, "for earlier."

You blinked, still staring at him with that cute expression sewn onto your face.

For a few moments, nothing was said, and Rodrick found himself lowering his hands to awkwardly clear his throat.

Then, you spoke again, "Heffley, get... get out of my house."

"No."

"No..?"

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment?" As he spoke, he started slowly approaching you, and you started slowly backing away.

"Heffley..."

"No need for that anymore, babe." His smile grew wider and his cheeks grew hotter as the wall blocked you from moving any further—allowing the distance between the two of you to grow... shorter. "Just call me Rodrick, or honey, if you'd prefer."

"You're crazy..."

He could feel your breath now, right up against his skin. It was perfect, and only proved to send shivers down his spine. "It's okay, babe, no one's here now. It's just you and me. You can speak your mind without worrying about anyone else. Go on, tell me you love me."

Your features scrunched up at that, teeth grinding against one another as you spat, "I don't love you, psycho."

"Uh, yeah you do." He dismissed your words with a wave. "It's okay to admit you're in love."

"I'm not, you psycho. I barely know you."

Ah, you could be so cruel sometimes.

"Sure you do. You know me just like I know you—" another whiff, "—and how I know this is your favourite scent."

You were shaking much more violently now, body leaning up against the wall for support in a way that made him envy it—all this effort to get to where he was and your wall got more attention than he did? Absolutely not.

He looped an arm around the curve of your waist, basking in the way they fit together as perfectly as puzzle pieces, before pulling you into his chest and taking another deep inhale.

And just like that, you went limp in his arms.

Oh well, at least now he got to carry out his fantasy of being the one that got to wake up next to you.

Omg guys, I acc feel so bad for turning Rodrick into a creep in this, he's such a cutie in the movies.

[ashwhowrites]

Wrong locker part 2

Part 1

From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank everyone for the love wrong locker got 🫶🏻 it was an original idea and it means the world so many of you loved it. So as promised, here is your Christmas present. A very happy ending and I hope you guys all love it and it was worth the wait.

Robin hasn't spoken to Y/N since she returned her jacket. Which was weeks ago. She knew she shouldn't care and that she shouldn't be disappointed, but she did.

She went from wondering if Vickie was the wrong choice to knowing she was. Turns out, Vickie and Robin only had band and were into girls in common. Their conversations were boring and died out within seconds. The relationship was nothing like Robin wanted or thought it would be like. She always compared everything to how it was with Y/N. And nothing matched it.

~~~

"Are you sure you're happy in your relationship?" Steve asked, he clicked on the computer as Robin sat on the counter next to him. She ignored as customers walked by.

"I think it's time I admit that I'm miserable." Robin answered, "Vickie and I have nothing in common. We barely go on dates because it's so awkward. We only hang out during school. It's just nothing like..." Robin trailed off when she realized what she was about to admit.

"Y/N?" Steve answered for her. He could see it. There was a different look in Robin's eyes when Y/N was in her life. Steve noticed it was gone once they broke it off.

"I think you fell for Y/N over those dates and calls. And that's okay, Robin. It's okay to fall for someone different. You had this picture painted of what you thought Vickie would be like. You had this vision and the vision was better than the reality. Y/N was the opposite. You never painted a picture with her and you never had expectations of her. You fell for her because you weren't trying to. That's when it's most real."

Robin couldn't help but let Steve's words sink in.

"You're right. Now what the hell do I do?"

"Break up with Vickie. And the rest..that's all up to you."

~~~

Robin held her breath as she walked into the small bar, the bar Y/N brought her for their first date....now that Robin can admit it was.

She scanned the bar, her eyes looking for someone in particular. She heard the clinks of the pool balls, she turned her head and there she was. Y/N had her arms wrapped around a girl. She was shorter than Y/N, she had brown hair and blue eyes. Robin couldn't help but feel like she was watching a flashback. But she wasn't. She was front-row seat as she watched Y/N move on.

Robin wanted to ignore the painful feeling in her stomach. And the feeling that she was going to throw up her lunch. She felt jealousy wash over her bare arms, and goosebumps formed as she shivered. Robin almost felt stupid for showing up, for thinking that there was a possibility Y/N would be torn apart the way Robin felt. She dashed towards the bar when she saw Y/N look over, she clenched her eyes shut as she prayed she wasn't seen.

Of course, Robin didn't have that luck. Y/N and the girl walked over to the bar, hand in hand. Robin swallowed the lump in her throat as the girl ordered a drink. Her voice sounded squeaky and it rang in Robin's ears.

Robin heard them talk then the girl walked off in the direction of the bathroom. Robin tried to hype herself up, she came here to see Y/N and this was her chance.

Just say hi, be nice and maybe she'll be nice back

"Pool trick your move with all the girls?"

Robin gasped at her own words, her hand slammed over her mouth as she clenched her eyes in embarrassment. She thought it but she didn't mean to say it. So much for hoping Y/N would be nice.

"Just the ones I wanna take home. What's it to you?" Y/N said, her tone was annoyed and rough. Robin wanted to shrink in her seat as Y/N didn't even turn her head to talk to her. She stared after the bathroom as she slammed a shot.

Robin felt her stomach turn at the thought of Y/N taking home a random girl. Not that she had the place to be upset about it. She single-handedly ruined whatever relationship that could have been.

"Where's Vickie?" Y/N couldn't help but ask. Y/N used to never have any hard feelings towards the redhead but now she couldn't help but hate her. Envy her. She never felt insecure within herself, but now all she wanted to do was be Vickie.

"I broke up with her," Robin said with a shrug, she kept her eyes on Y/N, wishing in her head that she'd turn to look back at her.

"Why would you do that?" This time she finally turned to look at Robin.

"I realized I was only happy with the idea of her. We didn't have anything in common, and we didn't click. I didn't feel....didn't feel the way I felt with you." Robin admitted, her eyes soft and genuine as she looked into Y/N's. She could see the conflict flicking through Y/N's eyes, the words taking effect on her as her mouth pouted.

"Do you know how much of an idiot I look like? I let my guard down because I liked you, and you took advantage of that. The only two things you felt with me were the anxiety of telling me the truth and the excitement of making her jealous, so screw you. You wanted her and you got her, that's where our time in the sun was done. I don't want anything to do with you." Y/N spat, not waiting for her girl to come out of the restroom as she marched right out the door.

~~~

Robin left Y/N alone after that night. It killed her and it hurt, but she didn't want Y/N to hate her even more. She felt guilty that Y/N knew about how excited she felt making Vickie jealous. Robin wished she thought everything through. She should have come clean right away, and maybe she could have still agreed to the date. She shouldn't have been stuck on Vickie and ignored all the possibilities around her.

Even though they didn't talk, Robin always looked for Y/N in the halls. Sometimes she felt a small shimmer of hope when Y/N stared back, for a few solid seconds before she shook her head and looked away. Robin hoped that there was a small part of Y/N that kept those feelings she felt for Robin months ago.

Robin entered a new level of hell when Y/N began to date a cheerleader. They were the perfect couple. Y/N was the captain of the volleyball team and her perfect, rich, pink, and giggly girlfriend, Blane, was on the cheerleading team. This meant Robin had to watch Blane cheer for Y/N, run to her after the game, and smash her perfect pink lips right on Y/N. It made Robin sick. It made her want to cry, vomit, and commit murder all at the same time. But also made Robin realize Y/N was long gone. She already did the upgrade, from band geek girlfriend to cheerleader girlfriend. There wasn't a chance in this hell that Y/N would run back to the band geek.

~~~

It was Y/N's birthday, and Blane invited everyone to celebrate weeks ago. Robin was surprised when she got the invite. She was surprised to hear Blane's voice on the other end inviting her directly. Robin figured it was a surprise party as Y/N didn't say a word about it when they passed in the halls.

But Robin wasn't going to waste the opportunity she had to see Y/N again. Robin spent the whole week perfecting Y/N's gift. She knew she had a lot of apologizing and work to do, and she hoped this showed how much of an effort she truly planned to make. But the gift also could cause issues with Blane, and honestly? Robin was ready to knock the bitch down a peg or two.

Robin even cracked and begged Nancy for help. Robin needed to dress to impress, and Nancy was the girl with all the confidence.....and clothes. Nancy knew who Robin was and stayed close to her wild style. A simple black dress that Robin covered with a dark jean jacket and sneakers. Nancy added a tiny bit of makeup to Robin's eyes, and a nice pink gloss to her lips.

Robin held her present in a tight grip as she walked into the party. Even though Robin rushed to get ready, she still arrived late. Half the party was already drunk and wobbling around. Robin set down her gift on a table that seemed to be the gift table.

She walked around, hoping to catch sight of Y/N. But she did find Blane at the drink table. Robin walked over, grabbed a drink, and took a deep breath.

"Thanks for inviting me!" Robin said a fake smile on her face.

"Of course! I honestly don't know half the people here. I called everyone that Y/N had their number written down and saved. Figured that's where the important people are. So hey! If you're here, you must be a great friend." Blane slurred, her hand patting Robin on the shoulder.

Robin was barely a friend, and she didn't want to be a friend. But she wasn't going to admit that to Y/N's girlfriend.

"So, how did you and Y/N get together?" The curiosity has been killing Robin. But the answer might finish her off.

"Hooked up at a party, nothing very romantic. We haven't been together long, feels more like a good fuck, you know? She's so confident and rough. I was too insecure about competition, and I knew no one go for her because they were too scared. So I figured hey! Who's gonna take her from me? No one. I can get great orgasms, sleep off with other people, and not have to worry about her attention leaving me." Blane shrugged, her drunk words filled Robin with more rage than she ever felt.

"That's a bit bitchy don't you think? The girl has feelings." Robin argued.

"Y/N? Feelings? No, that girl likes sex and that's all. I don't think she's capable of having feelings." Blane scoffed.

"Maybe not for you," Robin said under her breath, but not quite enough.

"Excuse me? If she would have feelings for someone, it would be me. Look at me." Blane said, and Robin couldn't help but look. Blane was easily gorgeous and it was easy to fall in love with her based on looks. Her personality immediately killed it.

"Open relationship then?" Robin asked, trying to change the subject of how perfect Blane was. Robin felt even more insecure as she tugged on her dress.

"Oh no. Y/N is way too loyal for that, even if it's just sex. But me? What she doesn't know what hurt her." Blane said, Robin, couldn't believe how she said these things without a moment of guilt.

"You're unbelievable. Y/N deserves better." Robin scoffed, she grabbed her drink and prepared to leave.

"Wait a second," Blane said, she grabbed Robin's arm and turned her around. Blane studied her face, her face sobering up a tad. "I knew you looked familiar. You're the girl in the frame! In Y/N's room! The girl wearing the jacket at the arcade."

Robin couldn't help but smile at the fact that Y/N kept a framed picture of her. Her cheeks flamed red and her heart raced.

"Now it all makes sense." Blane laughed, "You want her back, don't you? Seeking out the girlfriend to get the details you needed before you made the move." Blane said, shoving Robin.

"Hey! I didn't seek out details, you were saying it all on your own." Robin defended herself. "I do want her back. And it seems like you barely care about her so why don't we just call a truce? You can get great sex somewhere else, and Y/N can be with someone who cares about her." Robin thought her words were nice. But apparently, Blane thought differently. Robin felt a sticky liquid poured over her head.

A crowd formed around them as everyone gasped. Robin bit her lip as she wiped the liquid out of her eyes.

"Pathetic. Do you think she'll run back to you? You're nothing. You sit on the sidelines in everyone's life, including hers. Go back to the bench where you belong." Blane said, she turned around and her ponytail flipped in Robin's face.

Robin couldn't help herself. She was filled with rage and insecurity. She already knew getting Y/N back was a lost chance. She knew she was a side character in everyone's life, but to hear it said to her face by the bitch of high school. She wasn't taking it. And in a way, Robin wanted to fight for Y/N, what's better than taking down their girlfriend?

Robin grabbed her ponytail and yanked her backward. Blane let out a high-pitched scream as she tried to get Robin's grip off of her. Robin let go but tackled Blane to the ground.

"FIGHT! IT'S A GIRL FIGHT!" some drunk asshole screamed. He was filled with way too much excitement.

Robin and Blane rolled around on the floor, barely hitting each other but still fighting to be on top.

"OFF!" Robin heard someone scream and arms wrapped around her waist. She felt herself being easily lifted into the air. Robin trashed as the person began to bring her outside.

"LET ME GO. I SWEAR I'LL CALL THE COPS!" she threatened.....or Steve.

"That would backfire on you, sweetheart," Y/N said as she let Robin go. Robin stood on her feet and turned around to see Y/N there with a pissed-off expression. Robin clenched her thighs as she took her in. She wore tight blue jeans, a white tank top with layered necklaces, the bottom one resting perfectly on her chest, and a black belt with chains looped through.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Y/N snapped Robin out of her thoughts.

"You didn't hear what she said about you?" Robin argued, her hands gesturing to the house, where Blane probably sat crying.

"Why would you care?" Y/N asked, her arms crossed as she tried to conceal her anger.

"DO YOU PAY ATTENTION TO ANYTHING?" Robin screamed, she felt like she was constantly telling Y/N how she felt, and Y/N just ignored it.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME, I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT AT ALL! WE TALKED AND DECLARED IT WAS OVER. WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?" Y/N screamed back. She wanted to tug her hair out. She couldn't stand the sad puppy eyes Robin gave her. She hated feeling pittied and she hated Robin felt so guilty that she wanted to make it up to her. Y/N wasn't supposed to be hurt.

"I WANT YOU! ISN'T THAT CLEAR?" Robin screamed as she stomped her foot in the grass. "I DIDN'T GO TO THE BAR THAT NIGHT JUST TO ADMIT MY MISTAKE!! IT WAS TO ADMIT TO YOU THAT I CAN'T GET YOU OUT OF MY HEAD...."Robin took a deep breath, "it was to admit that I love you and I want a chance to be with you again. This time with no fear, no anxiety, and no afraid to feel things for you. Because it's not a bad thing. Getting to be with you, was beautiful and it was joyful. You were happy, and you can't tell me you weren't."

"Robin," Y/N sighed as she ran her hands over her face. "It wasn't even real. I was happy because I thought it was something real. I thought I could be loved, don't you get that? How can I just believe you now? What if you don't even love me, you just loved the feeling of being with me."

Robin didn't know Y/N felt so much insecurity. And she felt even worse for playing with her emotions.

Robin walked over to her, not wasting a second before she smashed her lips on Y/N's. Robin felt a zoo of butterflies fluttering around in her stomach as Y/N kissed her back. Robin's hands wrapped around Y/N's shoulders, and Robin shivered as Y/N's hands wrapped around her waist. She gripped Robin's dress and kissed her deeper. Robin melted under her control, submitting herself to be under her power. Y/N's warm tongue touched Robin's as they kissed. Y/N tasted like beer and gum, somehow a taste Robin needed more and more of.

They pulled back when they needed air, but Robin kept her hands on Y/N, hoping it would keep the girl in place.

"I love you, and I love the feeling I feel with you. I love both, and I can't love one without the other. Vickie was a mistake, and I'm sorry I had to learn that while hurting you. I know I want you and I know I want us. Please let me show you that?" Robin begged, her forehead pressed against Y/N's as she closed her eyes. In case she said no, at least Robin could soak in the last few moments.

It was silent and Robin grew more nervous. She cracked open one eye to see Y/N staring at her with a smile.

"Can I admit I love you with both your eyes open?" Y/N giggled, and Robin never thought she'd hear that.

Robin opened her eyes immediately, a dopey smile on her face as she watched Y/N's mouth move.

"I love you and I'll give you the chance. Just don't make me regret it!" Y/N threatened, a finger pointed right at Robin but a teasing smile covered Y/N's face.

"Deal," Robin said, pressing her lips against Y/N's again.

"Kicked her ass." Y/N laughed against Robin's lips, not caring how sticky Robin's whole face was.

"She deserved it." Robin shrugged, happily attaching their lips again.

~~~

A box of a tiny locker rested in the gift box on the table, with love notes all written to Y/N. All in the right locker.

Tags!

@em16cor @ladyofthepitt @saramelaniemoon @jazzycurls @xyzstar @amira0303 @kaelaiscool @gaychaos-stuff