#it got done in less than a minute i was shook

[ajaxbread]

How my hospital visit went(I got my blood drawn)

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[golden1u5t]

touch starved | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: spencer was alone for so long before you got together and he's just so touch starved he gets hard just from looking at you, even if you had just got done having sex.

spencer sat at the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers, watching you pull your skirt back up your legs. he had his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes trailed down your legs, his cock already hardening again. his skin was burning hot as he stared at you, he didn't need a mirror to know that he was flushed red.

"what do you think, pretty boy? lunch date ready?" you smoothed your hands down your skirt and turned around to look at him. spencers eyes were still trained on your legs causing you to frown in confusion, you walked closer to him until you stood directly between his legs. you placed your hand on his jaw and tilted his head up so he was looking into your eyes, you hadn't yet noticed the bulge in his boxers. "what's wrong, spence?"

"nothing, i just- can we- nevermind." he stumbled over his words, he tried to stand up so he could leave but you push him back down with a hand on his chest. he let out a barely audible whimper at the way you were dominating but gentle at the same time.

your eyes scanned down his body, finally noticing how hard his cock was. your eyes widened as you looked down at him, you didn't expect him to be hard again, especially since you had just gotten done having sex less than thirty minutes ago.

"how are you- we just got done!" your voice went up a few octaves with surprise, spencer looked down bashfully but you quickly tilted his head back up. you pulled your lip between your teeth and shook your head, deciding that you would just have to be late to the lunch date with your friends.

you couldn't just leave your poor boy like that.

[zombiefiilm]

Next to You

spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: sharing a room with the person in the bau that hates you the most makes you go through more emotions than you thought possible

warnings: kind of enemies to lovers, arguing, crying, no use of y/n, smut, nsfw - 18+ only, apology sex, soft sex, fem oral, protected p in v, praise, typical criminal minds death and unsub mentions

word count: 2.7k

Last minute cases in desolate towns in the midwest often meant that there was nowhere for the team to stay. It wasn't uncommon for you to have to pair or group up with other team members in dodgy motel rooms.

The most recent investigation had brought you all to the middle of nowhere in Nebraska, a long day ending with a drive to an motel that housed 7 rooms in total.

You, Reid and Rossi were the last to arrive so when Prentiss handed you a room key and told you that you would be sharing with Reid, it was already too late to complain.

"It's for your own good" she she grinned, picking her go-bag off the floor beside her.

"I hate you" you sighed.

"Sure you do" she was already walking off. You've been face to face with serial killers regularly, and this was just surviving a few nights in the same room as Spencer Reid, you could do this.

You walked back outside to find Reid standing in the dark by the car, right hand in this pocket and his left leaning against the black SUV.

"Looks like you're with me, Reid" you announced and the way that his face instantly dropped almost knocked you over. It was almost like you'd told him you were about to kill him.

"Come on" you began walking down to room 4, Spencer following shortly behind as you unlocked the door.

Being met with just one double bed though was enough to bring tears to your eyes. The couch looked like it had been through the war and there was no way on earth you were even touching it. And the sigh that Spencer let out made you want to rip your own hair out.

"I'm gonna sleep in the car" you quickly turned around to walk out of the door.

"You're not sleeping outside with a killer targeting women the exact same age as you on the loose" he stopped you in your tracks. He was right. "I can take the couch".

You were a little surprised at the chivalry but thankful none the less. "Are you sure?"

He didn't answer, instead dropping himself onto the couch.

Feeling content with his actions, you dropped your own bag on the floor beside the bed and told him you were going to use the bathroom before cleaning yourself up and changing into the oversized t-shirt you were using as pyjamas.

Coming out of the bathroom again, you were going to tell Reid that he was free to use the bathroom now but he simply glared at you.

It was as if he wanted to make your life hell. He always scowled at you, made snarky comments on little details about you, gloated whenever you got anything wrong. He always drove you up the walls, since you first started at the BAU, and you never knew why.

It's not like you had done anything to him, from what you knew at least. You smiled and shook his hand when you met him and even thought he was cute, you treated him just like you did with everyone else on the team, but you quickly noticed how differently he treated you.

You gave him plenty of time to warm up to you before you let yourself develop any solid opinions on him. You were warned about how he took to knew people, and you were understanding at first. But after you were several months in, and now years, and he still treated you like an outsider, you were no longer shy to expressing your dislike for him.

Other people on the team noticed it too, you, JJ, Garcia and Emily often discussing it with each other, but if one of them ever mentioned Spencer's attitude to himself, he'd deny everything and brush it off.

You really tried to not let it get to you, especially with the support from others, But man, did it upset you.

Spencer eventually got himself ready in the bathroom and came back out, silently setting himself up on the couch as you sat in the bed and did some research. There was a nice silence for a while, and then:

"Could you stop turning the pages so loud" he sounded irritated already and you hadn't even spoken to each other in the past 30 minutes.

"What?" you matched his tone, was he really trying to start a fight with you right now?

"I can't even think with how much noise you're making"

"I'm not making any noise, Reid, what's wrong with you?"

"You're flicking the pages, I can't pay attention to anything else"

"Oh so the sound of paper is able to stop boy genius in his tracks?" you mocked, pissed off at what he was choosing to do do.

He glared at you in response, he looked like he was about to blow a fuse.

"I don't know how to help you here, Reid, I'm trying to work on the case"

"Yeah, trying, it's not like you've ever actually done anything important for one" his voice had raised slightly.

"What?"

"You're practically incompetent, how you got recruited to the bureau, I'll never know" you hadn't even noticed him standing up, but it suddenly made you feel uncomfortable so you got out of the bed too, standing on the opposite side of the room.

"Excuse me?" you were completely shocked now, how had he gotten so far.

"You heard me. You have no place on this team. All you do is mess things up, you can't figure anything out and then you go and let our unsubs go"

Oh

You knew exactly what he was talking about. During one of your first cases, you had unintentionally informed an unsub that the FBI were searching for him during an interview with his wife and he got away. He was dangerous and you had never forgiven yourself for the people who had died before he was finally caught.

You just broke down in tears after that. It felt like he'd re-opened the wound right there and then.

"Fuck you" you spat through tears. You couldn't even look at him now, turning your back to him to sit on the bed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry" it was like he had suddenly snapped out of the unexplained rage he was just experiencing.

You felt the bed dip as he sat down behind you, and then a hand rest on your shoulder.

You were edging on losing the ability to breathe. It wasn't even just remembering the worst experience you had on the job, it was the fact that Spencer had used it against you just to get a reaction out of you. You wouldn't have even expected that from him.

He just sat behind you as you attempted to regain some sense of composure, not saying anything else. Was he finally feeling some sense of remorse for how horribly he had been treating you?

Once he noticed that your breathing had slowed, he called out your last name, your work name. It felt so impersonal in that moment. Not that you'd ever been on a first name basis with him, but you gave no reaction to him.

He tried again, squeezing your shoulder this time. You gave him nothing.

But then he whispered your name. Your first name. It was quiet, apologetic.. desperate.

You sniffled, wiping the tears from under your eyes before you turned around to look at him. He was sitting right behind you in the bed now, his big brown eyes practically burning a hole in your head. You knew you probably looked like a mess now, face red and wet, eyes puffy, and hair mangled.

"God, I'm sorry" his hand reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek "I'm such an idiot, I can't believe I said that".

You flinched at his touch, not saying anything back to him.

"If I could take that back I would, I did not mean it. It was just in the moment" he tried to hold your face in his hand but you avoided his touch.

"In the moment?" you repeated "What even was that moment. It's like you wanted to have an argument with me for fun".

"I don't want to argue with you, I just.."

"You just hate me" you finished.

"No! I don't hate you, I'm just stupid and don't know how to deal with how I feel about you"

You looked directly into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. "How you feel about me?"

You managed to catch his gaze as it briefly flicked down to your lips. It felt like something was drawing you closer as you moved towards him.

"Please, let me make it up to you".

"No. Are you saying you've treated me like this because you can't figure out what to do about your feelings for me? What are you? Twelve? You've made my life miserable."

The tears spilled out again, what was he even saying?

"Please, just let me show you how sorry I am"

His voice was laced in what could only be described as desperation, it was making you want to hear him out, forgive him, and you didn't quite know why.

"Please" his voice was on the verge of breaking.

Your walls were crumbling down, it was like he'd cast a spell on you

"please"

You only nodded, allowing him to to lean in closer to you, finally cupping your head in his hands and softly pressing his lips against yours.

It was like he was purposefully avoiding any roughness as he gently kissed, from your lips down your jaw and then down your neck. He looked at you then, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question. And you nodded.

He loosely grabbed the hem of your shirt, and you let him lift it up over your head.

He didn't touch you yet, kissing your lips again as he began to slide your underwear down. You manoeuvred enough for him to take them off you completely. He was so gentle that you didn't even think of feeling self-conscious being completely undressed in front of him.

He urged you to spread your legs and quickly laid down on his stomach in between them.

You barely had time to blink before his lips were on you, kissing up the inside of your thigh. as his hands wrapped around you, holding you down.

Then, he was softly licking up your cunt, softly moaning to himself as he tasted you. He avoided your clit, dragging his tongue everywhere except where you needed him most.

"Spence" the nickname drove him crazy, he finally felt like maybe you could be his.

He finally flicked his tongue over your clit and you couldn't help but push your hips against his face, a whine slipping from your lips.

He only egged you on, using your legs to pull closer to his mouth. He kept circling your clit, increasing the amount of pressure he used as your squirmed under him.

Every few moments, he'd bring his tongue down again, dipping into your hole gently, gathering your slick, before suckling at your clit again.

Slurs of his name, swears and a few 'oh my gods' were the only coherent sounds that could leave your mouth. He had gotten you incredibly sensitive and you felt like you could tip over the edge at any moment.

Spencer himself couldn't stop himself from moaning at your taste, your sounds, how your skin felt under his hands. The vibrations pushing you further.

He suddenly sucked a bit harsher, almost nipping your clit before going back to his previously gentle movements.

The contrast between the rare harsher movements and his gentle attention had you bucking into his face, only to be stopped by his hands pushing you down.

All of a sudden, you felt your release. You moaned much to loud as you writhed under Spencer's mouth, him carrying you through your orgasm.

Just as you felt yourself come down, you went to pull yourself away from Spencer, but he refused to let you, keeping you pinned down to the bed as he let himself taste your release.

"Spencer, please" you were so incredibly sensitive at this point, your body jolting at every small movement. You had to bite the side of your hand to stop yourself from yelling out from the pleasure.

He suddenly pulled off of you with a soft *pop* ad sat up, quickly kicking his trousers and boxers off as you reached forward and loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

Now that he too was undressed, you felt more equal, it was almost metaphorical as if he was agreeing to end the weird tension between the both of you.

He sat between your legs again, lifting your legs around his hips. You hadn't noticed the condom he had taken out from his pocket until you heard the crinkle of the foil as he opened it.

He quickly rolled it down his shaft as you finally got the chance to look at him. You felt yourself clench in anticipation.

He finally lined himself up and you were subconsciously pushing your hips down towards him.

"Please, Reid" you practically begged as he leaned forward but he stopped at your words.

You looked into his eyes, pleading for him to fill you up, but he didn't.

"Spencer" you whined, and he quickly rutted his hips into you.

"Thats it, good girl" he praised as the air was knocked from your lungs.

He started slow, using one hand to prop himself up and the other to finally caress your skin. It was like he was trying to memorise the curves of your body with one hand. He grabbed at your hips, held your waist, squeezed your breasts, as he slowly picked up his pace.

He couldn't get enough of feeling your body as he pinched your nipple, marvelling at the way it hardened further.

"God, you're so beautiful" his hand finally fell down to your clit, rubbing small circles in time with his thrusts.

You couldn't even get a single word out at this point, too tired and desperate to say anything.

"I'm so sorry baby" if he didn't have your attention before, the name had definitely gotten it now. "I'll be so good for you from now on" you could tell he was close from the waver in his voice, but you too felt your 2nd release approaching.

"You're so perfect" his rambling was interrupted by groans, "never want to leave your side ever again" his thrusts had last there rhythm as he circled your clit quicker, desperate to get you to cum before him.

It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap, vision blurring as he continued his thrusts. Not much after, he plunged into you one last time. You could feel him coming inside as he filled up the condom, his chest now flush against yours.

You both laid there for a few moments, enjoying the hot, sticky embrace as you caught your breathe.

Silently, Spencer pulled out, taking off the condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling his boxers on. He then got you cleaned up, helping you put on your own underwear afterwards, before you got into the bed.

He tried to walk over to the couch but you were not letting that happen. “Get in here Reid" you muttered, laughing quietly as he practically jumped in beside you.

As he faced you in the bed, he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. "I'll make it up to you, I'm sorry, about everything" he kissed you once more, it would take more time for you to forgive him, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms.

[brynn-lear]

When Cuckoos Throw Ores [Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader]

Questionable Overview: After transmigrating to Teyvat, you and Jing Yuan had lived like family on your shared apartment as getting-by descenders. But, you made an error too grave. You hid the anonymous love letters you received from the person you should’ve trusted the most— and now you’ve got yourself a broken mind. [Fic written for May June]

CWs/tags: yandere themes, isekai, moments where you wish Jing Yuan just committed murder instead so it would hurt less, mentions of failed childbirth, nadia & vlad are adorable, implied hysteria, cute n' wholesome beginning w/ found family to "man... man.", gaslighting gatekeep is JY's passion.

"I'm an adult, Jing Yuan! I think I have the right to leave as I please."

Have you ever been so incredibly fascinated by such a mundane object that all worldly noise drowns?

"The right to trample on my heart? To leave me to drown in my despair while you obsess over a single ore without a single thought for me? I must say, it doesn’t seem very sound. Stay put while I call for Doctor Baizhu."

Have you ever had your hand reach out ever so slightly without you realizing such? For your fingers to curl— for you to seize a trinket as though you were compelled by an existence— an idea higher than any mortal comprehension? As though it was fate? As though it was a fruit you weren't meant to take a bite off?

But the most mundane of all…

"There’s no need! Because great General and Emanator of the Hunt Jing Yuan—"

Have you ever lamented a life that "never" happened?

"— I have the right to mourn the happy ending you took from me!"

Though those uninitiated will rehash the root of events in your arrival to the chasm, the most knowledgeable would start the accounts from your arrival to Teyvat.

You did not step foot alone.

When your worldline was destroyed, so, too, was Jing Yuan's. 

Lady Ningguang greeted you both with a good measure of skepticism. You were both "descenders.", though it was soon made evident that your origins are different. He was from "Xianzhou Loufu," and you were from "Earth."  Course, despite your shared tragic circumstances, not everything shall be handed on a silver platter for unfortunate souls. Ningguang was kind enough to provide you both with a shared apartment complex near the fishing port and since then, you and Jing Yuan had a bond not so dissimilar from siblings. He got a job as a general, and your current position is a little more flexible than your previous one.

Whatever principles and studies were available in the previous realms you lived in, they were carried over in Teyvat. Each word circulating about Jing Yuan’s undefeated sword and lance techniques makes you smile; he, in turn, would enthusiastically applaud your sold artworks and STEM innovations. It makes you wholly embarrassed every time he makes what is supposed to be a celebration of his mission’s success into a congratulatory speech for what you’ve done in the same timeframe. Didn’t matter how minute it was. His comrades had already considered the long-standing tradition as a not-so-private joke.

His lack of personal praise worries you sometimes…

There’s a stark difference in your approach to this new life. You mourned for yours being gone; while he doesn’t speak much about his.

“No rush,” he'd say. “All truths shall reveal itself in due time.”

You know about his world, though vaguely. He has a striking resemblance to the character from Honkai: Star Rail. Course, that implies he had gone through similar ordeals as the character. 

“I am an old man, there is nothing for me to grieve.” He told you once. “I have… already witnessed comrades pass, and then some. Have you encountered the phrase: there are fates worse than death?”

Jing Yuan closed his eyes.

“I… find it easier to assume that it might be the only way to put old conflicts to rest.” He shook his head and downed his final shot of baijiu. Yuan sighed, tasting the aftermath in his breath.

“It’s better to put a permanence in death than another forced rebirth.”

He poured you a shot.

"Some memories are better left forgotten. And that applies to you, too."

Whatever he said felt untranslatable to you, hence, you gave up on making more inquiries. If the day comes and he wishes to open up, you'll be there for him anyway.

Or so you thought.

“Heard you’re planning to add another medal to your jacket.” 

Jing Yuan nearly halted from tying his long hair up. You watched his shoulders tremble, likely from trying to compose himself.

“Ha! You've heard a half-truth, I wasn't scheming on anything, it was merely handed to me.” His tone was calm, but you heard the well-hidden smugness.

You shrugged and sipped your coffee nonchalantly. 

… You seriously wish his uniform didn't hug his form that good. Just staring at him makes the room feel degrees hotter. 

You cleared your throat.

“I didn't say anything about schemes, Jing Yuan. Suspicious.”

“Oh?” He hummed, almost sultry for your ears.

…Curse him and his damn beatific smiles.

This playful banter is as natural as the dawn of day. Rather than spending the early morning getting ready for the day, you've both grown accustomed to teasing the other person. He, in his finely ironed uniform, and you, in your comfy pajamas. 

“Since when have I besmirched my name by squandering time? Rude of you to imply that slothfulness rules over my life.” Jing Yuan joked before he moved another piece. “You wound me, dear (Y/n).”

Due to the nature of the conversation, you hadn't thought of your next move much as you continued to probe him. “And what exactly are you doing right now instead of reporting to the Qixing, General?”

He smirked. “I am on-duty, am I not?”

“By talking to me?”

“I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.”

You paused. 

Person of Interest…?

Might as well curse him and his fancy cursive way of implying something too. 

Your nose scrunched. “Are you saying I'M on the Qixing’s watchlist?!—”

“Not in a bad light; don’t worry your pretty head over such menial matters,” he ruffled your hair as he craned over, gazing at your disgruntled morning expression with a loving vigor. “They have an eye for your talent. No Ministry would ever obsess over a clean criminal record.”

You grumbled as you attempted to fix your hair, despite lacking any energy. “Thanks, that calms me down. Especially with the talks about criminal activity on the rise and all.”

He laughed at your snarkiness.

“Is this your best attempt at prying information? I must say, your current occupation suits you. I can now place a finger as to why the thought of Lady Ningguang hiring you as a profiler put me in tremendous unease.”

“Oh don’t be a prick, Yuan.” You chuckled heartily as you gave him a playful slap— which he no doubt avoided. “But seriously, can’t you tell me more about what’s happening?”

There were no further words needed. Such rumors had been on the forefront of the people’s minds: a group of rogue “mercenaries” had found new temptations in banditry— and had the nerve to stew misfortunes on the main harbor itself. As a newly enforced general, Jing Yuan had, of course, been subjected to handling this situation under the ever-watchful gaze of the Qixing. A challenge, as he likes to label it. Whatever helps him sleep at night, you’d reply.

Although, it would certainly soothe YOUR insomnia better if he were to divulge even a hair-sliver of detail in regards to how “safe” this mission truly was.

“(Y/n), there is no cause for concern.” He pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You know my repertoire— else I wouldn’t consider you a close friend.”

Your heart ached for a second.

In small snippets from the multiple conversations you’ve had with him, you knew he kept his list of close friends few. There’s always a hint of guilt in his voice when he talks about those named Baiheng, Jingliu, Yingxing, and Dan Feng in passing. 

“And I’m just worrying over you,” you lightheartedly glared and waved your hand dismissively. “You know, like a real close friend.”

You both grinned in unison as if telling each other that neither would back down from this “argument” any time soon. He snorted and messed your hair up more. Over the time you’ve spent in each other’s company, your near-telepathic way of conversing has become quite an eerie issue for other mutual friendships. 

Not that either of you minded this. It’s always nice to be understood. 

“I know that look in your eye. Don’t add a part two from last night’s horror stories, please.”

“Then, I’ll take my leave,” he buttoned his jacket. “Last reminder before I go: you have arranged a meeting with Nadia this afternoon.”

“Thanks,” you huffed. “But unlike you, I don’t sleep in and forget my schedule.”

You swore that even after the door was closed, you heard him chuckle yet again. After that, he was gone.

Honestly, with someone with a “life-loving” temperament like him, you’re unsure if he’s easy to please— or too damn good at faking it for his good.

You heard soft knocks against your window.

Slowly, a grin forms on your lips.

“Hello, little man…” You cooed as you stood up and opened for not only the fresh Liyue morning breeze to enter…

But for a diligent little cuckoo bird to deliver its very special package as well.

You’ve always had a soft spot for animals…

“Hmm?”

Your eyes softened as it dropped its parcel and leaned its body against you, warming itself by sitting cozily on your window ledge. This little bird is quite the skilled messenger— always dropping by as soon as Jing Yuan takes his leave. As to why it suspiciously arrives as soon as he is gone, you’re unsure. Such a sneaky creature; you can’t help but adore it.

That’s not to say its deliveries are not as equally charming.

You chuckled as you elegantly unwrapped the ribbon. The letter was elegantly written in a scrawl you’ve familiarized even with eyes closed for the past months, yet it still holds an intensity that makes your heart flutter. 

There it was. The two words that keep you going better than any coffee brew.

“My dearest, (Y/n),….”

“Another letter from Vlad, I’d hope?” You sneaked from behind.

Nadia yelped, hitting you almost immediately. The delay was surely from being on a lovelorn cloud-nine, but her Fatui training that earned her last name definitely should’ve made you double-think.

You shriveled at the pain and she awkwardly cradled you.

“Oh shucks— I’m so sorry, (Y/n)! I-I didn’t realize it was y-y— Don’t scare me like that!” 

“Sorry! Sorry!” You hissed, blaming only yourself for the stinging aftermath. “I-I’ll get over it.”

Nadia guided you to the empty seat beside her. As soon as you were seated, she wasted no time to spill.

“The contents were far too adorable for my heart, oh, dear Tsaritsa, you NEED to read this.” 

An eyebrow was raised. Saying you had a suspicion that something like this would happen would be an understatement— when it came to Nadia, it was more like routine. It had been regular for you and her to get together at least once a month to chat over letters that you both received. Nothing about the time you spent with her was dull. She's the reason you adapted to the Liyue way of life so well. As you were both foreign to the culture— you and Jing Yuan are admittedly the extreme cases— you and her were eager to recount experiences in times of distress. And times of pure unbridled lovesick joy, such as this.

“C’mon, pass it.” You tried to say cooly, but the glimmer in your eyes betrayed your high school-like excitement.

“Same time.” Nadia huffed. "Can't have you gatekeeping your own letter!"

You pulled out yours from your purse.

Nadia wasn’t the only one with something to present to the class. This is just like a teacher forcing students to read their discreetly passed notes out loud. 

Nadia has her Vlad.

You have your Nay Jung I.

Instantly, you both suppressed a giggle in the abrupt exchange.

Nay Jung I. You know little about him, and that intrigue keeps the fire going. When you see a white cuckoo passing by the window, you immediately know it means well. A sight that makes your heart skip a beat. Instead of pushing eggs, it slips a love letter whenever Jing Yuan isn’t around. All coming from a man you can’t track down.

That’s right.

You have a secret admirer.

As you read through the middle of Vlad’s letter for Nadia, you heard your very-much-an-adult friend bite back a squeal in front of you. Nay Jung I may sound like a feminine name, but he was a man. You could’ve sworn you saw Xiangling laugh from the corner of your eye as Nadia tugged your sleeve around like a fool.

“Oh my God?! He wrote that?!” Her lips were akin to wobbly lines toddlers would draw when mimicking the sun’s rays. 

“I find myself constantly catching glimpses of you in my daydreams, my mind flooded with what could be— what should be. Forgive me for my selfishness, but I fear it won’t take long before I can no longer bear the thought of being without you… What?! That’s so SWEET?!” Nadia clutched your love letter tightly, eyes wide as though she was the recipient.

Xiangling, bless her soul, had to peek behind her.

“I wish I could have the courage to reveal myself to you. When I doubt myself, my thoughts turn to you… Aww… I wonder who Mister Nay is and what did you do to get him this in love?” Xiangling playfully pouted, which made Nadia grin wider, almost teasing her. “Geez. When will I get a boy to send me letters?”

“I’m sure you’re going to get one or two someday. A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?” Nadia shrugged as she folded the paper and hid it. “Plus, I fear you’re too young for this.”

“Careful, Dia, she’s the one preparing our food.” You joked.

Nadia has grown more friendly to locals for the better since you started sharing meals here. Everyone knows the feelings between her and Vlad were mutual— but neither of them was willing to confess. With Nadia hoping he initiates, and him densely hesitant on whether she reciprocates. One of them can end this phase should they abandon pride or cowardice.

But Nay Jung I?

You can’t find his records anywhere… And he had told you that it is a fake name by your fourth letter, much to your chagrin.

So, you’ve settled with this arrangement. For now, you are both friends, despite knowing he has feelings for you from the start.

“Mister Nay definitely has it bad for you, Mx. (Y/n).” She gave you a closed-eyed smile. “You need to write back immediately! The man’s probably starving for it!— Oh, right, the pot!!!”

As the chef rushed back after being distracted, you gave Nadia’s letter back to her.

“Any chance of rain?” You asked.

“Cloudy with negative one percent chance that I’ll run to Northland Bank and confess to Vlad.” Nadia spoke sheepish;y.

“That’s at least five percent higher than yesterday.”

“Well, this last letter was adorable.” She swooned.

“Mx. (Y/n), you seem incredibly free at the moment, care to have a chat?”

You turned to look at the new person who joined in.

Fur coat, a distinct mole placement, a sharp haircut, and eyes self-assured enough to conceal their need for urgent assistance, it has to be none other than—

“Miss Yelan,” you gave her a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Nadia sat up straight, shifting to her work mode. “Is there some business you require from the Northland Bank?”

“I have no quarry with you, Madam Nadia, what I do want—” Yelan tilted her head, her eyes calculating. “Is to speak to (Y/n) in private.”

You paused, recalling the conversation you had this morning.

‘I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.’

Maybe this is what Jing Yuan was warning you about this morning.

“Fine, I concede.” You sighed, swiftly snatching your letter from Nadia’s hands and tucking it inside the pockets of your inner jacket.

“Lead me to where you most need me.”

Over the years you’ve spent on Liyue, you’ve had another habit you’ve been nursing on the sidelines.

Epigraphy.

Better yet, it’s for the sole purpose of decoding ancient artifacts. Before you were transmigrated into Teyvat, you found that inspecting artifact descriptions and reading through lore strewn in notes and dialogues were a great part of what made playing Genshin Impact enjoyable. You devoured theories whether they were from YouTubers like Ashikai or other CCs who were eager to unravel and analyze myths from different civilizations. To be inside THE sandbox was the greatest treat. If your friends were here, you have no doubt you’d have plenty who’d look and try to pick apart Mister Zhongli’s brain.

Unfortunately, you never managed to catch his eye.

And the biggest misfortune of all, you caught Miss Yelan’s instead.

“It’ll take me a few weeks to decipher and solve this puzzle…” You told her hesitantly. “And I can’t guarantee anything either.”

Yelan only tilted her head. Strands of her hair hid her expression, and the only body language to be read was the way she played with the die on her fingers. You wondered if she was deciding your fate by giving it a roll…

You looked at the inscribed walls.

A man with horns… and his partner wearing a long hanfu… His partner… Reminds you of a beautiful cuckoo bird.

You sighed.

When she bargained for a chat in “private”, the Chasm was the last location you had in mind. Even more, it did not occur to you that she aimed to use you as a translator. For a language you only learned a few years ago.

You knew you couldn’t exactly deny a member of the Qixing, especially with how much you carried a moral debt for Lady Ningguang, so you agreed under the condition that Yelan wouldn’t snitch to Jing Yuan.

He might just give you the silent treatment if he found out you were here.

But back on the walls and the puzzle mechanism in the middle of the room…

Both were seated under the shade of a tree… 

Each holding a cup of tea…

“Damn it, why me?” You cussed out loud.

You seriously want to tell her that she should’ve chosen Zhongli. 

Not that you’d know that Yanfei begged Yelan to hire you for the job.

Yelan made her dice vanish. “If you need further assistance, and by that I meant necessities such as food and water, call for Wenyuan or Shanghua. They’ll materialize right in front of you.”

On the next wall, the horned man tightly held his partner, with tears falling from his eyes… His tail was more apparent in this depiction, but there were crystallized ambers and statues all around…

Like they were running…

Away from him…

You faced Yelan.

“Yelan, can’t you call for someone else—”

You blinked.

She was gone.

You don’t like being here.

You don’t like this cave.

You’re not sure whether you liked the fact Yelan invited you here. On one hand, you were grateful for the opportunity, but at the same time, you thought yourself unqualified for whatever piece of ancient Liyuean history was waiting to bite you in the ass. 

It didn’t take a genius to know that whoever the drawn man was, he was a force to be reckoned with. You played enough Genshin to know that yakshas are not to be trifled. If this ended up as an Azhdaha scenario, you wouldn’t want to be the nameless NPC who died along the way.

Should’ve commissioned the traveler.

As you progressed in your decoding, the texts were beginning to gnaw you. 

“Have you heard the tale of Lady ███ ███?”

You trembled at the thought.

Curse Jing Yuan and his ghost stories.

The story wasn’t even that frightening.

What got you was how Jing Yuan sold them. He had preached it as though he had been a witness. It’s just a typical unnerving tale to keep children alert, but he had always been far more persuasive than you.

“When she and her husband were out exploring, her husband left her while she sired his heir. He left her there to die.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. You quietly applauded his commitment to the bit. Should you not know any better, you would’ve thought he hated that man more than anything.

Like he was seething with jealousy.

“Some claim he hid her there to fight for a war, some say it was out of love… In my eyes, it was an unforgivable neglect.”

Jing Yuan claims sharing ghost stories was a common occurrence from when he used to teach his disciple. But you’re not an idiot. You can sniff out a reason why he loves to bring these stupid tales.

“Days felt like a prison tally. She had forgotten what it felt to live in the sun.”

“She lived only by fulfilling basic needs. No matter how thick the mud was, no matter what was within the soil— all she could do was bitterly swallow what was to come. She bit her tongue on the ever-growing famine— and wished that her child would survive.”

Jing Yuan does not want you anywhere near the chasm.

“So when it was time to give birth, she had no assistance. She pushed her child out as hard as she could, and laid an empty egg.”

Before you could even ask why a human would lay an egg, Jing Yuan continued.

“But they both passed away.” 

“Legends say, that’s the reason why the lumenstone ore glows. It contains the watchful gaze of a scorned mother and unborn child…”

“And if you aren’t careful, you too—”

“Could be trapped inside it.” 

You scoffed.

Was the tale stupid? Depends on who you ask. Was it sad? Sorta. Was the thought of two ghosts— possibly more— watching you as you were forcibly dispatched to read through The Chasm’s secrets terrifying? Given the dark and brooding atmosphere, it was a quiet yes.

“Hmm? I— I solved it…?”

You blinked.

Maybe you still retained your skills as a Genshin player. Anything for a luxurious chest is what you would’ve said. And yet, it still baffled you that one did appear.

When you unlocked it, you saw no “primogem” like you quietly hoped (it would be funny if you unlocked a wish function, but that’s unlikely…)

Instead, you found a dusty ore.

“Great.” You muttered dryly. “Just what I needed.”

It was amber in color, same as the clothes the man wore in the wall paintings. You’re at a loss on how you should report this to Yelan.

“Better than nothing.” You spoke, laughing slightly. That sounded like something Diluc would say. You should buy a dandelion wine after this hard work.

Quickly, you fished out the gloves in your pockets. It was made of nitrile, which should protect the ore from possible oil and moisture from your hands. Yelan was very insistent you wear it.

But as soon as you touched the ore…

Your consciousness slipped away.

There was a man in front of you.

But you couldn’t see his face. 

“Dearest ███ ███…” The horned man smiled delicately as he sipped his tea. “It has been centuries since our first wedding ceremony. Do be honest with me, do you still hold the same passion as before.”

These memories appear to you in a blur.

“No, I do not.” You heard your voice say as the man’s shoulders slowly deflated. His amber eyes looked down, and his smile began to strain.

With two fingers, you lifted his chin.

“If anything, my love for you has grown stronger,” you spoke. “For you and I shall never let our draconic instincts dull, and our union will be the greatest treasure we shall hoard in this never-ending flow of time.”

“…/n…!”

One hand took his scaley hand and the other held his cheek, caressing softly.

“Promise you shall return?” You heard yourself mutter, this time weak and hopeless.

He leaned against your palm, purring as though it might be the last time he’ll savor your warmth.

“You know I do not make promises, ███ ███.” He spoke firmly. “What I keep are contracts. And I have vowed to make you happy, for as long as I live.”

“…(Y… (Y/n…. snap… out…!”

“Contracts normally sound so cold, but your honeyed voice makes it sound so romantic.”

“You know well, my love, in all my years, I’ve witnessed endless contracts and agreements. Whether it was tangible or verbal— each one was a significant chapter to someone’s life.”

The horned man softly detangled your fingers from his long brown hair and kissed your hand.

“But only one brought forth complete change. Our matrimonial agreement. The contract we signed gave me the most happiness. I’ve never signed a happier contract than this one.”

“And I share the same sentiment.” You cooed, almost cheeky. “And I hope our future child shall feel our love as well.”

He rested his head on your shoulder and sighed.

“The day shall come, my love.” He spoke. “Just wait for me, until I fulfilled what the Heavenly Principles desires.”

“Of course,” you hugged him back. 

“I shall wait for you, my dearest…

“(Y/N)!!!”

You flinched.

Suddenly, you’re not in the mountains. You’re not hiding under the shade of a tree with warm-hued leaves. You were…

You were sitting on a patch of grass, just outside the chasm.

And Jing Yuan is mad.

He had a cold unmerciful glare. His built frame towered above you, casting a large shadow. It was already nighttime. Normally, only the moonlight and the lamps from afar should be the only source of light here, but his golden eyes seemed to glow. As though it was ready to call forth an entity you were not prepared to face.

You know the depths of his anger. Years of living inseparable from him has made every communication almost telepathic and that hadn’t changed. You can read it in his breaths, in his stiff and tall posture, in his unnerving gaze.

He is threatening you to spill. Saying without words that:

There are fates worse than death.

But your pulse was steady. But your breathing was calm. But your expression was blank.

You weren’t terrified.

And you can read that deep down, that scared the General more.

“Nay Jung I…”

For a moment, Jing Yuan’s eyes widened— as though there was something he was the only one privy to knowing. His face had a mix of surprise and disbelief before he steeled himself.

“Nay Jung I?” He scoffed. 

“What of him?” Jing Yuan asked.

“He’s my soulmate.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, brief incoherent syllables sputtered out of his mouth. You evoked more emotions in him this time around. You saw flashes of shock, what seemed to be happiness, hope, and then utter confusion.

“...What?”

“I saw him.” You said, calm. “I saw him as soon as I touched that rock. My soulmate— he had long hair and eyes like a dragon— I think he was a dragon, and so was I. I think my soulmate is in Liyue and he’s hiding behind the name Nay Jung I.”

Jing Yuan opened his mouth, before thinning his lips.

This time, you were certain.

He was not only mad. Jing Yuan was sorely disappointed.

“I understand…” 

You know the expression on his face. You read him like a discipline you mastered in epigraphy. He thinks that… 

You have gone “cuckoo.”

He turned around, no longer facing you.

“I’m sorry then, (Y/n).” 

Jing Yuan does not sound sorry to you.

“What for?”

There was silence for a moment, before he spoke again, voice bitter and vile.

He was not sorry.

He was furious.

He was hurt.

He was jealous.

“Nay Jung I is the leader behind the past terrorist attacks.” He paused. “And I killed him.”

You haven’t recovered ever since.

Every medical “professional” you’ve encountered told you that you were hysterical. That you just hallucinated what you saw. It isn’t possible that the visions you saw were Nay Jung I anyway. 

Maybe they were right about the last part, you don’t want to believe it. 

It was in your instincts. That man had to be your husband in the past. Who cares if you came from another world? Maybe you were an Expy. You had to be. That person— the one who reminded you of a cuckoo bird in those walls— had to be you in another universe. 

It had to be.

Your real soulmate is out there.

And Nay Jung I isn’t dead.

But you’ve never been good at persuading others.

Soyourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveit—

“General Jing Yuan, is (Y/n)…?”

Outside the apartment, Mister Zhongli and Jing Yuan stood by the window, peaking at your form. You were so engrossed by your inner conflicts that you couldn’t hear them.

“They’ll… move on from you, eventually.” Jing Yuan spat back coldly. “I’m not the God of Contracts, but I keep promises that do not fail.”

Zhongli’s face crumpled in anguish.

“May I ask a question? Just to sate a bit of curiosity, of course.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. Zhongli took that as a yes.

“Are you Nay Jung I?” He asked. “I did not see his name on the list of the deceased criminals—”

“Yes, he and I are the same,” Jing Yuan silenced him. “Nay Jung I is an anagram of Jing Yuan. You can reorder the letters and confirm it for yourself.”

Originally, Jing Yuan had hoped to woo you with a romantic tale of an anonymous admirer. But, in your delirium, you had mistakenly believed that Nay Jung I was the same man in your visions. 

It was repulsive.

Never before had he wished to scream so loudly. He had not felt this much anger when he discovered the crimes his old friends had done. He had not felt as betrayed as when you claimed love for Nay Jung I, but it was not him.

He wanted to summon the Lightning Lord to destroy Liyue right then and there.

It was a frustration he had never felt before. Not when he was training with Jingliu. Not when he was scolding Yanqing. Not ever.

But Jing Yuan was not an impulsive man.

He prides his patience.

He prefers to scheme quietly rather than flashing bold moves.

Jing Yuan sucked in a breath between his teeth. 

“I suppose it’s my turn to ask.”

He shut the windows and Zhongli’s heart ached as he could no longer see you.

But then he turned to look at Jing Yuan.

And he knew…

Jing Yuan is much older and wiser than he looks.

“Tell me, Rex Lapis,” he spoke sharply. “Did you wed this world’s version of (Y/n) (L/n) and leave her and her child to die?”

…

…

…

That silence was enough.

Jing Yuan’s private investigations behind your back were right.

In the vast “multi-verse”, there is a version of you that married this dragon who descended from his Archon status.

“I... have wrought upon them great suffering. I am unworthy of their affections. Should a day come where (Y/n) enacts the fury of my wife and child on their behalf, it will be justly deserved.”

Zhongli did not further elaborate.

Whatever happened in the past, it still haunted him to this day. Lingering in the back of his mind, dulling his self-confidence and wits. Maybe it’s why Yanfei thought you should investigate the cave. Maybe she wanted the alternate version of ███ ███ to come back.

But she's gone.

Jing Yuan took a step closer.

“Your wife is dead, Rex Lapis. They are my (Y/n), not yours.”

“I-… I know.” Zhongli— no— Morax spoke, voice laced with grief. “I know she and (Y/n) are not the same, however, I…”

Another step.

“If you wish for their happiness, you will continue to not speak to them. You have done enough damage.”

Morax closed his eyes mournfully. “I am well aware of this”

Another step.

“Let me take care of (Y/n). Let me make them happy.”

And another.

Jing Yuan stared deep into Morax’s soul.

In all his years of living, it didn’t occur to Morax that he’d find another familiar cuckoo again.

But it wasn��t his wife.

Jing Yuan took another step.

This man in front of him was pushing and pushing…

“Let this conversation be a verbal contract,” he said. “That I, Jing Yuan, vow to make (Y/n) happy, and that you, Rex Lapis, shall step down as a final way to atone your sins of uxoricide and filicide. Do you accept?”

Like a cuckoo throwing an egg off the nest.

Forgive me, dearest ███ ███.

I am unworthy of you, let alone this alternate incarnation of yourself.

Morax inhaled deeply. He remains in his head, yet he can't escape the present. The more time he spent searching inside himself for solutions over his approximately 6000 years in Teyvat, the more evident it became what the sensible path of action was. With open eyes, Morax welcomed the return of the present. He observed the vivid hues of existence. In the vicinity, he heard Jing Yuan's pet cuckoo bird. But most of all, he felt his age.

Whatever time was appropriate to dream of a family— it had long passed him.

I am but an old man who deserves to fade away quietly.

And he…

Has the same vigor Morax once had.

That obsessed look.

That tight, suffocating hold.

Just like staring at a reflection of himself, centuries passed.

Jing Yuan, too, was a man depraved. Worse, he is a man who lost everything, clinging only to (Y/n) as his only solace in Teyvat.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan took a walk with you, with one arm draping around your shoulder to ward off those he deemed unwanted.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan brags about you with his men in each available opportunity, socially claiming you his.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan glares at someone who got too close when he thought you weren’t looking, pushing suitors away.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan rarely talks about his story and would rather talk about something you had done, making you a large part of himself.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan only cares about you, and not even a sliver for himself.

He would rather not see him destroy himself the way he had done long ago.

And just like that, the General got rid of his greatest rival— Liyue’s archon and your husband from another life.

He is out of the nest.

“I accept.”

May June can now message Jing Yuan

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

Sam Winchester, Hero

-warnings// angst, fluff, SMUT, MENTION OF SA!!

-lil summery// kind of my spin on the pilot episode, based when Sam’s in college, best friends to lovers trope

Sam x reader

Part 2

word count// 3330

(Gif from Pinterest)

Your eyes burned as you continued to read the same line over and over, exhaustion threatening to take over your body any minute "hey you okay?" You looked towards the soft voice to see your best friend Sam, you nodded "yeah I'm just trying to finish this chapter I can't hand in another late assignment" you said stretching your limbs trying to wake yourself up 

Sam chuckled "it's after midnight, you’re gonna end up face down on your desk if you don't get to bed soon" you rolled your tired eyes playfully "I’ll be fine I'll just be another half hour then I'm done, you head on home, I'll be right behind you" Sam shook his head "not a chance this place isn't safe at night I'll wait for you" he said going to sit next to you "Sam sweetie, I'll be fine, our apartment is a ten minute walk at most, plus you know I can handle myself, I've kicked your ass plenty of times" you joked making him smile 

"Alright but I want you to knock on my door when your back home so I know your home safe, I'm giving you forty five minutes and if ur not home by then I'll be back here to haul your  ass home" he said firmly, he was always the worrier, that's what you loved about him the most

"I promise, scouts honour" you promised him with the scouts symbol he chuckled as he moved toward the door "see you at home Y/N" he called as the doors closed leaving you alone in the library, You rubbed your tired red eyes and got back to work, your blinking getting slower until all you could see was darkness and a warm fuzzy feeling take over your body.

Almost an hour later you awoke with a start "oh son of a bitch!" You exclaimed quietly looking at your watch, in a panic you shoved your stuff in your bag quickly before running out the big mahogany doors and taking off in a speed walk down the dark campus towards you and Sam's apartment, hoping he hadn't left yet

You were moments away from sanctuary before you heard the sound of loud foot steps behind you, your heart plummeting to your stomach as you picked up your own pace, you were less than a minute away, the footsteps got closer and your heart was beating a hundred beats per minute

The person behind you grabbed your arm roughly turning you around to face a tall brute of a man, glaring at you his lips twisted in a dirty smile "where you heading beautiful?" He asked his grip on your arm tightening making you wince "none of your business now get your damn hand off me you jackass!" You exclaimed trying to pull your arm away 

"Watch yourself now... the nicer you are to me the better I'll make you feel" the man said licking his greasy lips, your stomach turned and you regretted not leaving with Sam earlier. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to fight him off "if you touch me I swear I'll-" you started to say before a loud laugh cut you off "you'll what baby? Look at me then look at you, who's got the upper hand here?" he mocked before a third voice interrupted him 

"I do!" The voice said and a fist was slamming against your attackers face knocking the brute out, screaming you turned to see your saviour as the tears streamed down you face, you saw Sam looking back at you concern written all over his face "c'mon let's go" he said quickly taking your bag from you and pulling you tightly to his side making your worries instantly vanish as you cuddled into him 

Sam unlocked the door with his free hand, never letting go of you, he locked the door instantly as soon as you stepped inside "are you okay? I knew I shouldn't have fucking left" Sam told you his voice cracking slightly as his hands cradled your face in them as his green eyes scanned for any visible injuries.

"I'm okay Sammy" you assured him but he shook his head, his shaggy hair bouncing as he did "I'm so sorry I didn't get there sooner, I shouldn't have left you by yourself it's not safe i-" "SAM!" You yelled cutting his rambling off, his eyes snapping down to meet yours "I'm okay, I promise, you got me before he could do anything" you promised him, brushing a stray strand of shaggy brown hair behind his ear

He closed his eyes tightly and sighed loudly, his shoulders remaining as tense as ever, he wrapped his strong arms tightly around you, holding you tightly to him

You rest your head against his hard chest, listening to his heart beating like crazy as he breathed in your scent "are you okay sweetie?" You questioned looking up at him

Sam nodded slowly "I'm doing everything I can right now to stop myself from killing that perverted bastard" Sam confessed, his voice low and serious, you chuckled quietly "Sammy your the sweetest guy I've ever met, you don't have killer instincts in you" 

Sam swallowed thickly... little did you know who he really was, how many monsters he'd killed since he learned to walk "...yeah your probably right, come on let's get some sleep" Sam said changing the subject quickly

You stepped away from the his warm comforting embrace nodding your head, a quiet quiver threatening to leave your lips  "night Sammy" you leaned up to kiss his cheek before retreating to your bedroom.

You shivered as you walked into your dark bedroom, you pulled on an oversized shirt kicked off your jeans before getting into you bed, your whole body shook as you lay, the events of the night finally setting in your head

You let the hot tears fall slowly down your face as you fell asleep. 

You awoke a while later, you heart beating like crazy, your face stung as tears, new and fresh stuck to your cheeks, you tried catching your breath before making your way quickly to your bedroom door and down the hall to your best friends room

You knocked lightly on the door but there was no response other than the small snores on the other side, you questioned if you should just suck it up and go back to your own room but you knew you couldn't, not alone 

Taking a deep shaky breath you opened the door tip toeing towards the sleeping giant, "Sammy?" You whispered in a strained voice, "...Y/N... w-what's going on? Everything okay?" Sam quickly shot up suddenly as though he was wide awake. You tried to control your breathing before replying "y-yeah I uh, I-" you struggled to get out before you broke completely, your whole body shaking as more tears streamed down your swollen face

Sam was instantly pulling you down to sit next to him on his bed, pulling your shaking body tightly into his warm embrace, his muscular arms wrapping around you waist as you lay your head in the crook of his neck, "hey it's okay just breath" he said gently trolling your hair from your face "what happened?" He asked quietly stroking your wet hair behind your ear 

You took a deep shaky breath leaning into his touch "I- I just had a bad dream and I didn't want to be alone, can I stay with you, please?" You begged Sam, your heart racing like crazy, Sam's cheeks flushed a deep red as he nodded his head almost immediately "of course you can, you know you can always come to me no matter what" You smiled squeezing his hand tightly as a silent thank you.

Sam stayed in that position for another while longer, just holding you tightly to him as you slowly regained your breathing and the tears stopped rolling, "you ready to lay down?" Sam asked rubbing his hand up and down your cold arms nodding you move to his side, slowly lowering your self to rest against the cold unused pillow in Sam's bed, Sam turned to face you in the bed,

His hand once again reaching out for your own "I promise your safe here, I would never in a million years let anyone or anything hurt you" Sam assured you making your heart swell, "I know sweetie,  your like my very own superhero" you told him making his lips pull into his familiar grin "night gorgeous" Sam said giving your small hand another light squeeze "night Sammy" you whispered back.

You lay there another few minutes just staring into the dark room, this was different than how you felt earlier in your own bed, you felt safe... you just couldn't trust your mind enough to sleep

You turned to your side to face Sam, his eyes already on you "I can't sleep" you whispered lowly to him your faces inches apart as Sam moved closer his arm moving to wrap around your waist as his green eyes stared into yours "it'll be okay, I'm right here next to you" Sam promised making you smile up at him 

Your hand cupped the side of Sam's face gently as you moved closer, just testing the waters, letting him have time to pull away if he wanted to, but he didn't.

Sam closed the small gap between your lips quickly capturing you lips with his, you let out a small gasp as your hand flew to grip the back of his neck lightly, his own gripping your waist pulling you as close as possible to him, you let out a quiet moan as Sam moved you to lay on your back, his body rolling to hover above you 

You wrapped you legs tightly around Sam's hips pulling him down so that his covered cock was pressing against your clothed clit, "oh god Sammy" you breathed out pulling his hair slightly 

Sam moved his kisses down your neck causing your eyes to roll "Sam please" you begged tightening your legs around his hips, sam obeyed as he pulled back slightly to pull his grey shirt and off revealing his muscular chest, you ran your hand down from his toned chest down to his pyjama pants, you swallowed the thick lump of nerves in your throat "Y/N, we don't have to do this" Sam told you sensing your nerves 

You shook your head and smiled up at him "I want to do this, with you" you told him as you gently pulled him back down for a kiss, he smirked into the kiss, his hands moving to the hem of your oversized shirt you'd stolen from Sam many moons ago, he pulled the shirt off your body, revealing your bare breasts to him, he instantly grasped them in his warm hands

You let out a small moan of his name, arching your back from the bed "please touch me" you begged, sam chuckled and kissed his was down your chest taking each breast in his hot mouth before continuing his way down your stomach, he dragged your panties down off your legs, gasping at the cold air hitting your core you move to clench your thighs together

Sam's hands caught your thighs quickly, spreading them wider exposing you completely to him "you look so beautiful like this" Sam said his eyes a darker green, bordering a light brown, Sam blew cold air against your soaking pussy before diving in, you screamed in pleasure your hand rushing to gripe Sam's longer hair, "oh god Sammy! Please don't stop that feels so fucking good" you cried out as Sam sucked hour clit into his mouth and inserting his two long fingers inside your dripping hole "you taste fucking delicious Y/N I could stay between these legs all damn day if you let me" Sam said against your pussy, the vibrations of his deep voice and combination of his thrusting fingers causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head "I'm so close Sammy please!" You screamed in pleasure slamming your head back against the pillow behind you as Sam sped up his movements, all that could be heard in the room was heavy breaths and the sounds of Sam's mouth and fingers working you toward your orgasm

You cried out in ecstasy, Sam's long fingers curled inside of you hitting your g-spot repeatedly his lips wrapping around your clit stimulating you completely, you screamed Sam's name as the coil snapped, your orgasm came crashing towards you causing your body to shake slightly, sam carried you through it, not stopping until you gently pushed him away from you, you legs around his shoulders shaking "that was the hottest fucking thing in the world, I've never had a guy do that to me before" you breathed out, still trying to catch your breath

Sam chuckled giving you lips a small kiss "well you have only dated jackasses who clearly have no idea how to please their girls, if I had it my way I'd have you tied to the bed with me down there all damn night" Sam confessed making your heart pound, you looked at him threw half lidded eyes a smirk playing on your lips "I'm not opposed to getting tied up sometime" you said making sam groan loudly as you pulled him into another deep kiss, your hand snuck it's way into his pants and wrapped around his hard cock, you started to move your hand in an up and down motion before Sam quickly grabbed your wrist stopping you

Your eyes snapped to his in a panic and your heart raced in panic, "What's wrong?" You questioned quickly and Sam smiled "nothing it's just… I'd rather be inside you gorgeous" Sam told you and he kicked the rest of his pants off leaving his big hard cock on full display making your mouth water "do you have a condom?" You struggled to ask as your mouth was suddenly dry

Sam nodded, hovering over your bare body to reach into his nightstand, he quickly pulled out a familiar foil package, he ripped it open quickly with his teeth and rolled it onto his erect member "are you sure your okay with this?" Sam, ever the gentleman asked you, his hands ran up and down your waist in a comforting way making you smile  "of course I am Sammy" you confessed wrapping your legs tightly around his hips and pulling him down to you so he was chest to chest to you

Sam leaned down to capture your lips in a sensual kiss, not rushed or hard like the other kisses, you felt him place his covered tip at your entrance, your pussy clenching in desperation to feel him inside you,

Your moan caught in your throat as Sam pushed his way inside you, filling you up, inch by inch

Sam sucked in a harsh breath, his lips moving to attach to your neck "god Y/N your so fucking tight, can already feel you squeezing me" he groaned out hotly against your neck, you giggled softly as your hands ran up Sam's muscled back, he began to move his hips slowly to rest the waters, there was a slight pain but nothing could take away from the pleasure of having Sam so close to you like this "faster Sammy please" you told him arching against him to allow him to push inside you deeper, Sam obeyed and grabbed your thighs, he pushed them up so you knees were against your chest, your calves hanging over his broad shoulders

Sam pulled his hips almost all the way back before slamming back inside you making you scream in pleasure

He continued to slam his cock deep inside you at a fast pace, hitting your G-spot with every thrust his pelvic bone pressing against you swollen clit adding just the right amount of pleasure "yes!" You screamed dragging your nails down Sam's back as white hot pleasure clouded your vision, you knew your orgasm was fast approaching as the coil in your stomach tightened "cum with me baby" you moaned out, Sam quickened his movements feeling his own orgasm crash against him, he moved his hand down to rub your clit quickly causing the band in your stomach to snap, you screamed Sam's name as your juices came flowing out of you, down Sam's thighs as Sam groaned feeling the condom fill with his hot seed 

Sam continued to thrust a few more times slowly to calm you both downs, whimpering when he pulled out you gave him a gentle kiss on his now swollen lips "that was amazing" you said once you pulled away causing Sam to chuckle, he threw the used condom in his trash can "yeah that was the best sex I've ever had" Sam confessed making your heart race and your cheeks turn pink when you giggled “yeah me too”

Sam pushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes staring into your own with intensity “I really like you Y/N, your my best friend.. I mean I know we just crossed the line of just friends but I want you, I mean, I want this, not just sex.. I mean I want you.. all of you” Sam confessed before kissing you quickly to solidify his words 

Your heart pounded against your chest as you listened to Sam’s confession, “I want that to Sammy” you said placing your hands on either side of his face, leaning in to peck his kiss swollen lips a couple of times until the smiles on both your lips made it impossible to keep going “so how about tomorrow after your last class we head down the Chinese place for dinner and we can rent a movie to take back home?” Sam asked you nervously “I’d love that” you told him before going to the bathroom to get ready for bed again, this time in the safe protective arms of your boyfriend.

A couple of hours later you awoke to voices in the kitchen, panic rose in your chest before you turned to wake Sam, surprised when all that was in his spot was cold sheets, you furrowed you brows before getting up, you quickly pulled on your over side shirt and panties before stalking towards the kitchen where your boyfriend and another man were talking  “sam?” You called for him making his head snap towards you “Y/N hey what you doing out of bed?” Sam questioned placing his hand on your arm 

You opened your mouth to answer before the other man moved towards you a big flirty smile graced his lips “wow you are so far out of my brothers league” the man said making sam roll his eyes “oh your Dean! Sam’s told me a lot about you” you said making him chuckle “all good I hope” he said before turning his attention back to your boyfriend before staring at you again “listen sweetheart, I gotta talk to your boyfriend here about some family business would you mind giving us a minute?” He asked trying to be as nice as possible “of course I’ll just-” you were cut off by Sam’s big arm wrapping tightly around yours waist pulling you tightly to his side “no, anything you can say to me, you can say in front of Y/N” Sam told him his chest puffed out in anger 

Dean clapped his hands together in frustration “fine, dad hasn’t been home in a couple days” Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically once again “yeah, he’ll come stumbling back on in soon enough, just like he always does!” Sam said annoyed, his muscled arm around your waist tightening as Dean sighed lowly 

 “alright, dads on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days”. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

For my Sam girlies!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

But Baby - Lando Norris

<word count - 947>

Lando was clingy on a normal day, and his birthday was no exception. He always liked to have you where he could see you, and his birthday was no exception. He always liked to cuddle with you whenever he pleased, and his birthday was no exception. 

You were sat, typing away on your laptop at the kitchen table, replying to emails from your boss and trying to get your work done as quickly as possible. Despite his protests, you still had to work on Landos' birthday - even if he was less than impressed. 

"Are you done yet?" He called from his spot on the couch. This was the fifth time he had asked in fifteen minutes, and you could tell he was becoming more and more needy as the seconds ticked by. "Nearly, just be patient," you told him for what felt like the hundredth time today.

"But baby, it's my birthday," he whined, standing from the couch and trudging over to you. "Can't this wait until tomorrow?" he asked, resting his arms over your shoulders and his chin atop your head. All he wanted was for you to go to the couch and cuddle him - it was his one birthday wish. 

"I've got to do it now, I'm sorry," you said, the weight of him nearly on top of you not stopping you from typing. "Do you have to do it now now? Can it not wait until at least later?" he groaned, starting to sway side to side as he latched onto you. 

"As soon as I'm finished, you have me for the rest of the day, I promise," you said, briefly ceasing from your work and leaning back into his embrace. "But I want you now, baby," he continued to whine, as if it would persuade you to drop everything and give into his asks. 

It wasn't that you didn't want to, not by any means, but you had to finish your work, and that was just how it is. Lando didn't see that side though, and you knew he was stubborn. He would keep on asking until you did what he wanted. 

He was pushy, but in a cute way. All he wanted was your affection, to have you close to him where he knew you were safe. "I know, I know," you said, turning your attention back to your laptop. You knew if you looked at him you'd probably see those puppy-dog eyes and melt into a puddle of willingness. 

Lando pulled up a chair beside you, pushing it as close to yours as he possibly could. As he sat down, his legs were practically draped over yours as he wrapped his arms around your waist and snuggled into you. "If you won't come to me, I guess I'll have to come to you. Even if it is my birthday," he quietly pouted, burying his face into your shoulder. 

"I know it's your birthday, but I still have stuff to do," you mumbled, opening another email. There weren't many left, but if you told Lando that, he'd just try and convince you to do it later. "So you're saying your work is more important than me? The man who makes you happier than ever? The love of your life?" he grovelled with feigned hurt. 

"No, that's not what I meant and you know that," you shook your head with a chuckle.

"Maybe I do, but maybe I need some reminding?" he giggled, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. "Lando. Wait," you playfully scolded, nudging him in the ribs lightly. 

"Fine," he scoffed, resigning himself to the fact that he wasn't going to get anything out of you. Not yet, anyway. Every now and then, Lando would loudly and overdramatically sigh as a final attempt to hurry you along. 

He figured if he tried to irritate you slightly, he'd get what he wanted, but he knew you better than that deep down "OK, I'm all done," you declared, closing the lid of your laptop.

"Finally!" Lando exclaimed, practically leaping up from his chair beside you and instantly hoisting you into his arms. "Lando don't drop me," you instructed as he moved the position of his hands. He carried you like a princess as you snaked your arms around his neck.

"I would never do that," he grinned, leaning his head down to plant a swift kiss on your cheek. "Where are we going?" you asked as he walked you past the couch and through the kitchen. "Birthday boy decides," was all he said, carrying you into the bedroom and dropping you down onto the bed. 

"If this was what you wanted, all you had to do was ask," you suggestively smirked as he sat on the bed beside you. "I don't want anything like that right now, I just want to hold you," he said, his voice dripping with affection and the look in his eyes was pure love and innocence. 

"OK baby, OK," you smiled as he pulled the covers over himself and opened his arms out to you. "C'mere," he mumbled, and it wasn't long before you had snuggled up beside him and had your head resting on his chest.

"Now this is all I want for my birthday, y'know that? My girl in my arms, it's all I need," he tiredly rambled, and your heart warmed at his comments. "Happy birthday, Lando," you said as his arms tightly held onto you.

"Thank you baby, I love you," he told you, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. 

"I love you too," you smiled, making a note to maybe give into Lando a bit quicker. This was way better than working. 

A/N - Well if it isn't this pretty boy's birthday! I couldn't not write a quick little something for his birthday, since I wrote this with my free time yesterday. Sorry for the lack of posting, I have had 0 time and it's been killing me! So, enjoy your day/night, and happy birthday to this muppet 💖

|masterlist|

[revehae]

weak (r. fantasies)

warnings: smut, noncon, virgin!jisung x (f) anemic!reader, drugging

wc. 990

i been writing this on and off for 24 days and youre telling me its only 990 words im not a serious person at all… fake news its longer now cause i suddenly added one (1) sentence. thank you @neocentral for holding a gun to my head

for two entire days, jisung was antsy. even the mere thought of you, no matter how brief, made a cool wind sweep over his shoulders and his gut tighten uncomfortably.

he knew what he was going to do, and he knew how he was going to do it, but even more so, he knew that it was wrong.

but if he knew that it was wrong, then why did he resolve himself to do it anyway? why did he smile in your face as if he didn’t know that he was about to hurt you? why didn’t he give jeno back his stuff, instead of holding onto it all this time?

jisung didn’t have any idea what it was, other than what jeno had told him while pressing the tiny bag into his chest. colorless, odorless, tasteless, and she’ll be out long enough for you to do all the dirty, perverted stuff you’re too scared to do while she’s awake.

but the truth was that compared to the thought of doing it while you were awake, this terrified jisung tenfold. would it still hurt you, bother you? would you feel the soreness between your thighs and instantly know what he had done? would you hate him more because you wouldn’t remember?

those were the thoughts hurtling through his head when you got up to use the bathroom. but if he was going to do it, he had to act quickly. your nightstand was littered with prescriptions pills and jisung knew you took the iron supplements every night. he poured the powder into your water bottle, watching it disappear as he shook it.

jisung’s heart raced at a rhythm he never knew could be possible when you came back and grabbed a hold of your water bottle. you didn’t make a face, drinking it like nothing was the matter. and he was surprised by how quickly you were out. in the few minutes it took to take effect, you didn’t even have time to become sleepy.

for a long minute, jisung didn’t even seem to remember why he had done this anymore. he was staring at your face, poking your cheek to see if you would react, but you didn’t stir. he worried that maybe you were dead, but when he put his finger to the base of your neck, there was still a normal pulse.

jisung’s breath quickened when he realized all of the things he could do to you right now. he didn’t dive in headfirst like he thought he would, his fingers absentmindedly trailing your soft skin first. he started with your neck, since his hand was already there, gently tightening his fingers around it. he wanted to mark you so badly, but he couldn’t.

he brought his thump up to your bottom lip, overcome by the formerly suppressed urge to kiss you, and with nothing to stop him, he pressed his lips to yours. he was mildly annoyed that you couldn’t kiss him back, but on the bright side, he still had the opportunity to touch you.

to do all the dirty, perverted stuff he was too scared to do while you were awake, as jeno put it.

his words always echoed in jisung’s head, influencing him in ways that were less than healthy. you could easily take her, if you weren’t so weak in the knees, jeno would tease, nudging jisung painfully. she’s anemic, for fuck’s sake. she can’t be that strong. 

jisung pulled back to gape at you in your night gown. he always thought you looked good in them. the way they gave away your collarbone and the little lace ribbon where your cleavage stopped, and the way the cute sleeves cuffed at your wrists was endearing to him.

but right now, as he gingerly bunched up the dress and caught sight of your lilac, cotton panties, the only thing he could think about was how desperately he ached to be inside you, to feel your sticky, throbbing walls cling around his virgin cock. to prove that he wasn’t a coward, that he wasn’t weak like you were. 

and for that reason, he couldn’t be slow and steady anymore. he knew there was no clock on him, nothing pacing him and nothing threatening to tear him away from the warmth of you, but his self-restraint had already worn thin and he was running on empty.

jisung convinced himself that you wanted him as he sheathed himself deep inside you with a guttural groan, every impatient inch of him. it may not have come from your mouth, but the slick somewhat facilitating his entry was answer enough. you may not have known what was happening, but your body was hyper aware.

god, jisung’s was, too. he couldn’t resist the tight squeeze, the way your pussy gripped him for dear life, and he tipped his head forward as his hands gripped your thighs to anchor himself before he fell too deep. even they were warm, the most cute and supple pair.

his eyes were completely closed, winced shut at the first pulse of your warm and tight cunt around his dick. he knew you would have loved him, if you could feel him. he knew he was big enough to please you. the guys too often teased him, saying he had all those inches, but not a hint of what to do with any.

but jisung knew right now. driving his hips passionately into yours, big hands clasping at your soft, moisturized skin, he knew he could make you feel things unimaginable. the sounds you were unknowingly yanking out of his throat, he could easily pull out of you. the way his face tensed with pleasure, he was certain he could make short work of you, too. 

“so weak,” jisung whispered into deaf ears, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your ravishing scent. he imagined you calling him sungie like you always did, and it only made him grunt. “it’s okay. i’ll protect you. like i always have.”

[01zfan]

film it | l. sh

skateboarder!sohee x videographer!reader | 7k words

ninona lore this took me back to my skateboarding days…don’t know why i didn’t realize the tea with skateboarding sohee earlier.

i listened to tape you by N.E.R.D. while writing this. also the music i imagined for the highlight reel is humps for the boulevard by rodney o and joe cooley!

contains: sex & recording the act (consensual), mentions of skateboarding related injuries (nothing major)

you always heard sohee first.

the sound of the wheels on his skateboard gliding across the ground behind you. you only saw him like a flash of light, there one second gone the next and always followed by his crew of skateboarders. the only time he had spoken to you was the warnings that he was coming behind you and he didn’t plan on slowing down. 

your interaction with sohee was so limited that you thought he was talking to someone else when he first addressed you.

“hey!” he yelled to you.

you looked around the skating park to see who sohee was talking to. you sat on the bench, mouthful of your sandwich when you realized sohee was looking straight at you. when you pointed to yourself sohee nodded, smiling back at his friends before he continued.

“you good with a camera?” he asked, still yelling.

your shitty camcorder sat next to you, resting on top of your recently bought board. you had picked up a hobby last minute for the summer, in no way at all was that connected to the man that spoke to you. you swallowed your bite before nodding your head, instinctually dusting crumbs off of your body.

“yeah.” you yelled back.

sohee looked back to his friends one last time, all of them giving him nods of approval.

“can you film us doing some tricks?” he asked.

you nodded your head with a little too much enthusiasm, and you got up from your spot on the ground a little too quickly. maybe something about the acknowledgment made you feel vindicated, or maybe you liked having something to do. being at the skatepark alone was less fun than you thought it would be, so you leapt at the chance to spend time with people. they didn’t care that you were wobbly on your skateboard, they slowed down as they gave you instructions on where they were going so you could follow them. 

“i’m gonna start on the a-frame and then go to the euro gap.” taesan instructed, pointing at each structure.

“got it.” you chirped.

you started the camera at taesan’s face, going all the way down to his feet planted on the skateboard. before taesan could start, another one of sohee’s friends skated behind you. you turned the camcorder quickly to face him, and he looked shocked for a moment before adjusting to the camera. 

“make sure you get him eating shit too.” leehan said.

you turned the camera back to taesan as the rest of the crew laughed behind you.

“you can’t even nollie flip.” taesan teased.

“fuck you.” leehan laughed.

the rest of the day you spent with sohee and his crew, filming their tricks and them bickering with one another. they even taught you how to be more steady on your board while recording at the same time. 

by the time you guys were done the sun was setting and you all smelled like sweat. you could feel how dirty the clothes you wore were, your shirt felt like a dirty rag that dried in the sun on your body. even if you all smelled and were all still sweating from the heat you ended the day at the top of the ramp huddled together watching the raw footage. they all crowded around the tiny viewfinder, laughing at their failures and exclaiming at the successful attempts at tricks. sohee constantly praised your recording ability, to which you shook your head each time. 

“it’s nothing really.” you pointed at the screen, waiting for a certain part you knew would illicit a reaction. “this is when leehan scraped his knee trying to nollie flip.” you said.

when the videos were finished, sohee’s friends began grabbing their things but sohee lingered close to you. he waited until you looked up from your camcorder to him, and he turned at the same time. you got flustered and sohee smiled at you trying to avoid eye contact, only breaking away when another one of his friends spoke.

“i’m tired as hell. i’m going home.” seunghan said, throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

“me too.” haewon got up from the ramp, using a grip on your shoulder to push herself up.

seunghan made his way down the ramp and the others followed. you found sohee lingering behind once again, waiting for you to grab your things. while his other friends walk ahead, he stayed behind to walk with you. he adjusts the backpack on his shoulder and looks to his friends that talk ahead of you two.

“i mean it though,” sohee turns to face you. “you’re really good at recording us.” he says.

now it’s your turn to adjust your backpack, shaking your head shyly the same way you did before.

“it’s nothing really.” you say awkwardly.

you and sohee walked in silence, the only sound between the two of you was his dragging feet on the cement. you clutched your hand around your camcorder, the feeling of now or never crossed your mind as you spoke.

“i would love to film you guys.” sohee turned to you. “for the summer. maybe even make a little highlight reel maybe.” you offered.

you saw sohee open his mouth, his hand going to the back of his neck before the rest of the crew overheard you. seunghan basically leaped on your shoulders, all of them jumped around you thanking you for taking the time out of your summer to film them. haewon promised she’d teach you how to really skate and leehan said he would master the nollie flip by the end of the summer. the only person that wasn’t enthusiastic was sohee. your eyes stayed on the hand that was scratching at the nape of his neck. 

when the crew dispersed to skate back home, you found out that both you and sohee had to go in the same direction. when you thought you’d hear the familiar warning of him behind you on his skateboard you instead heard the sound of his feet running on the road to catch up to you. 

even with the nice gesture, without sohee’s crew to fill the silence between you both it was awkward. his lack of enthusiasm when you offered to film them for the summer still weighed heavy on your mind, making you feel tense. you two walked in complete silence, you even purposely went on a different path to separate from sohee. he watched you as you started walking diagonally behind him, trying to cut through a residential area.

“i’m going this way.” you said, pointing to a beaten path.

sohee looked down at the skateboard in his hand. he looked forward on the road he was walking on. for a moment underneath the light of the streetlamp he looked like he wanted to say something. the two of you lingered underneath the artificial light, getting ready to walk on your own separate paths.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” you asked, still standing in the same place.

sohee nodded, putting his skateboard down on the road next to him. he tightened the straps on his backpack as he got on his board.

“yeah. see you tomorrow.” he said.

and with that, sohee started skating down the road to head home. you stayed underneath the light of the streetlamp, trying to think about what you did wrong. the cicadas matched the buzzing in your mind as you ran through every single interaction you had with sohee. when you realized he probably hated the idea of someone basically inviting themselves to join the crew it all made sense. you didn’t even think in the moment how presumptuous you were being, you just let anything fall from your lips to fill the silence. you cringed to yourself, even letting out an audible groan as you realized your social fumble.  

you thought about your fumble for the rest of the night as you watched videos on how to make a successful highlight reel for skating. you even uploaded old files from your camcorder that you had been putting off to make room for new skating videos.

you came to the conclusion the following day that sohee was confusing. despite him not seeming apprehensive of you becoming a temporary member of his crew, he spent an ungodly time around you. during the breaks he would ask what you packed for lunch, while the rest of his crew convened he would find his way next to you asking for your thoughts. each time you shook your head, not feeling it was your place to give input as a temporary member of the group.

sohee lingering only got worse as the summer went on. he picked up the habit of waiting beside you at all times, even when he was up next for a trick. you became sohee’s director, telling him from behind the camera to go stand with the rest of the crew, or to go to the ramp because he was next. each time he was caught off guard, smiling and shaking his head before jogging to his correct spot. he eventually became something like your shadow, always watching the raw footage over your shoulder at the end of each practice. he would always make sure you could hear his reactions, letting out ooh’s and aah’s each time he saw something cool. sohee even began offering to come with you on the dirt path to your home—you believed that was the first time you ever saw sohee give up the chance to ride his skateboard. 

by the end of the summer, when the video was almost finished and your relationship with sohee was even more confusing than before. you knew at the very least that sohee liked your camerawork. he complimented you so much throughout the summer that you had finally gotten use to the praise. you accepted all of his kind words with a smile on your face. but even if sohee gave you compliments, something still felt off. you were friends with other people in the crew, you had worked up a good rapport and a good friendship to the point that you become something more than an omniscient viewer of the life. but you still couldn’t pinpoint what you were to sohee, and as a result you couldn’t determine what he was to you. 

as the final month of summer approached, you had given up completely on trying to figure out sohee. you instead put all of your effort into the video, spending weeks perfecting everything. you don’t know why you worked so hard on it—you took the extra steps to add segments for all the different tricks. you added bloopers at the end, all the failed attempts as something to laugh at. you had a sleepless week for no reason, trying to find the perfect background music and sync it with the transitions. when you were done you even went the extra mile to burn it to a DVD, keeping it safe in your backpack before heading to the park. 

you were extra excited at the skatepark, the nerves of showing the crew your finished video made you antsy. they had stopped asking you when the video would be done a long time ago. they wanted to give you time, but without fail towards the end of practice everyday they would be waiting with bated breath for an update. you had told the crew it’s almost ready a million times and told them just one more week nearly a month ago. when everyone was grabbing their things getting ready to go you held your backpack close to your body, remembering the DVD that sat at the bottom.

“so about that video.” you tried not to laugh when everyone whipped their heads around to look at you. “i finished it.” you said nonchalantly.

despite you trying to remain casual everyone instantly reacted. all of the crew immediately started jumping up and down, circling around you as they waited for you to show them the proof. when you pulled out the DVD they ooh’d and aah’d at the novelty of it all. everyone wanted to see the video, and it didn’t take long before the crew was following you home to watch the highlight reel. 

you corralled everyone into your recently cleaned room, clearing off your chairs to try and accommodate for the extra bodies. you found your seat on the ground at the foot of your bed between leehan and sohee. you tried not to think too much about how close you were to sohee compared to leehan, instead focusing on your growing nerves of showing something you spent so much time on. you leaned forward to pull the DVD from it’s translucent green holder, putting it in your player and closing it. you sat back in your same spot while everyone waited for it to start

the music started playing before the video played. a loud intro, the beat making everyone nod their heads. the beginning of the highlight reel played as an intro for everyone in the crew, earning a small cheer each time someones name popped up. everyone commented on the special effects, and when the actual tricks started everyone only got more excited. you turned to the side during the video, trying to silently gauge everyone’s reaction. you felt relief seeing everyone smile and deeply involved in the video. you felt even more relieved seeing sohee so clearly enjoying it. he had his palms keeping him propped up, his stretched out legs swaying to the beat of the music. when something particularly cool happened he turned and looked at you, and you had to turn quickly to face your small television. 

when the video was over, everyone was silent for a moment. before doubt could even enter your mind, seunghan spoke first.

“that was perfect.” he said.

almost instantly, everyone else started agreeing. everyone wanted to know how you did it, what song you used to play in the background, why you put so much effort into it. when leehan asked for a copy everyone else started agreeing, saying they wanted their own copy too. you felt high in demand, waving your hands to try and get everyone to quiet down.

“i can burn some extra DVD’s.” you looked to your computer and the stack of DVD’s you already had piled up next to your monitor. “it might take awhile, but i can get it to you guys.” you said.

“take all the time you need.” taesan said.

everyone nodded in agreement, not wanting to rush you anymore.

“i could probably burn them tonight. have them ready tomorrow” you said.

“i can stay.” everyone turned to sohee still sitting on the shag rug. “help you burn them. i live right over there anyway.” sohee said.

he projected his voice and gave his reasons to everyone in the room, but he stayed looking at you. when you nodded your head wordlessly, sohee smiled before going back to looking at the television. the rest of the crew exchanged looks, but they didn’t bother to press the conversation any further.

it wasn’t long before everyone was collecting their things and grabbing the trash of the snacks from the convenience store you guys raided. everyone talked about seeing you soon, and thanking you for the video. when you walked everyone out sohee stayed behind to start burning the DVD’s for you.

when you made it back into your room, you saw that your computer was already in the process of burning a DVD. sohee was back in his original spot at the foot of your bed, knees drawn to his chest as he looked up at you. suddenly you wished you had declined his offer to stay and help. you had narrowly avoided being alone with sohee all summer, but now here he was sitting on your shag rug looking up at you. sohee timidly tapped the spot you were sitting earlier, and you tried your best to seem nonchalant as you sat next to him.

the silence stretched on for a long time. for awhile, it was just you and sohee listening to your computer etch the video into the DVD, and the sound of birds chirping outside your window. when you heard the sound of your metal bed frame creaking due to sohee leaning on it, you kept your eyes on him. he rocked side to side, his knees still drawn closely to his chest.

“the video was really cool by the way.” he said.

you started picking at the strands on your orange shag rug, suddenly feeling too embarrassed to look at him. the fact that you could feel him looking down at you didn’t help, it only made you focus on anything in your room but him.

“thank you.” you said, smiling to the ground.

sohee scooted closer to you, until his foot was in your line of sight. you still refused to look at him, the feeling of embarrassment kept your eyes trained on the rug. the two of you are silent, and you can hear sohee shift as he takes in a deep breath.

“can you look at me?”  he asks quietly.

you look up to sohee quickly, not sure why you listened to him over the screaming voice in your head. he looked at you gently, gaze flickering over the features on your face. having him this close to you made you want to recoil away, but you didn’t want to miss a single second of him taking you in. when he scooted closer you didn’t back away, even if you felt a pounding in your chest and skull. 

“you’re really cool.” sohee complimented.

you let your hands rest in your lap, instead picking at your fingers over the shag carpet. your mouth felt to dry to speak, but you nodded and tried swallowing your spit just to wet your mouth.

“you too.” you said back.

sohee leaned into you quickly. it was too fast for you to recognize what was going on, one moment you were thinking about sohee and the next he was so close to you that his breath fanned your face. his lips were soft against yours, and for a moment you two stayed like that, with sohee leaned into you while both of your lips were still. he pulled away before moving his lips against yours, the tiny sound of your separation permeating in your brain.

“is this okay?” he asked.

“i’m so confused.” when sohee tilted his head in confusion you continued. “did you like the video that much?” you asked.

“i was kinda afraid i wasn’t being obvious enough.” sohee laughed.

when he saw the same confused expression on your face his hand went to scratch at the back of his neck. 

“i really like spending time with you.” sohee admitted.

”i thought you didn’t even want me in the group.” you said.

as you remembered sohee’s reaction when you offered to film the crew’s highlight reel, his face completely changed. instantly he was shaking his head, putting his hands on your shoulder to bring your attention to him.

“i didn’t want you to think i was using you because of your camera. i wanted to find a way to spend time with you.” he clarified.

when sohee tells you his reasoning everything makes sense. the way he stuck to you at the skatepark, how he always watched you so carefully when you were trying to skate. you realized the tense atmosphere when he would walk you home was the complete opposite of apprehensiveness. even though everything makes sense, you still feel upset. when your eyebrows furrow you see sohee instantly become apologetic.

“are you mad at me?” sohee looks back to your computer and sohee starts shuffling to stand up. “i should probably go.” he says.

before sohee can fully get up, you grab his arm. he freezes instantly, and when you guide him back to the ground he follows immediately. when he bites his lip nervously you want to tell him you could’ve been kissing all summer underneath the street lamps of your neighborhood if he had just been more upfront with you. you could’ve been sneaking around and pushing him up against the chainlink fence that surrounded the skatepark before everyone else arrived. but words have barely served you up to this point, and your throat is so dry you think your voice would fail you anyway. so instead of trying to express your feelings with words, you use your grip on sohee’s arm to bring him closer to you. 

sohee let his legs straighten until they were flat against your rug. instantly you put your hand on his thigh, using your grip on him to turn your body to kiss him better. sohee responded by moving a hand to your waist, sticking his ring finger in the belt loop of your pants while his other fingers rested on the bare skin of your torso. even from this little contact you already felt overwhelmed. 

when you pulled away from sohee he kept one of his hands on your face. you took him in like this, how his lips were still parted and his eyes were still closed before he realized you weren’t going back in to kiss him. his eyelashes fluttered when he blinked a few times, trying to recover.

“i really like spending time with you too.” you said quickly.

when sohee pulled you in again, he let his lips press a little harder into yours. you felt his hand on your waist move to your leg, and you let sohee move your legs until they were on top of his. he followed your movements, his hand splaying across your jean clad thigh before pulling you in closer by your legs.

when you were close enough, sohee moved his hand from your leg to the small of your back. he pressed gently, until your back arched and you pressed even more into him. you let your tongue go into his mouth first, and he tilted his head and parted his lips a little wider to give you access. 

the sound of kissing and your jeans rubbing against eachother filled the room. you had one of your hands behind you, gripping your shag rug from the tension and for stability. sohee couldn’t take his hands off of you, pulling and kneading your skin while he pressed his tongue against yours. the kisses were beginning to get sloppy, when you pulled away again there was a thin string of spit stretched between the two of you.

sohee licked his lips and broke the string. he looked up from your lips, scanning over your whole face. you did the same, taking in sohee against the backdrop of your room and his hair that was already sticking up in odd places. 

you were lost in the smell of sweat that clung to his baggy clothes and the wind burn that gave him a natural blush while his eyes wandered down, staying stuck on a part of your shag rug.

“i wanna film you.” sohee said, quietly.

you were still coming down from the feeling of sohee against you as you listened to his words. you followed his line of sight to the camcorder that was turned on its side. it was enticing, looking at the camera that was already on and in arms reach. the only thing you would’ve had to do was hold it in your hands and press the record button.

both you and sohee reached for the camera at the same time, and both of you hesitated at the same time too. you went back to looking at sohee, feeling his warm body press against yours. his hand had moved back to your legs, pulling them in close to his stomach. he looked at the camera once more and decided against it, shaking his head as his hands started creeping back up your leg.

you forgot about your camera as sohee pulled his legs from under you. he stood on his knees now, and it was you looking up at him as he came closer to you. you moved to give him space, and he moved his hand to your shoulder to slowly push you down. 

with your back resting on the shag rug there was another pause as sohee looked down at you. his shirt was loose on his body, hanging down and revealing his toned stomach you sneaked so many peaks at over the summer. when he saw you looking he guided your hands to the bottom of his shirt. when you fisted the fabric and started pulling up sohee did the rest, a single hand reaching for the back to pull it over his head. he balled up his shirt and put it underneath your head for comfort, and you mumbled a quiet thanks.

“i wanna touch you so bad.” sohee said.

you felt your own nerves creeping up on you as you felt sohee ghost his hand over your clothed stomach. he hovered above your body, but you swore you could feel the warmth coming from his hand in waves. you nodded your head, and you guided sohee’s hand underneath your shirt.

you could feel his gentle hand press into your stomach instantly. he kneaded the soft skin, holding onto whatever he could touch. you were already squirming underneath him, tiny sighs escaping your lips as you tried to comprehend what was happening.

“can i take your clothes off?” he asked.

the calm was absent from sohee’s voice now, reeling off the feeling of your skin in his hand. when you lifted your hips he took his hands off of you, reaching to the waistband of your tight jeans to pull them down your body. your fingers were barely fast enough to take off the button before sohee started pulling, and when they were loose enough you started pushing them down your legs. one of sohee’s hands lifted the end of your shirt, revealing the bottom of your bra. when sohee saw that the color matched the trim of your underwear he nearly started drooling. he bent his head to place a sloppy kiss on the apex of your thigh, earning a surprised mewl. when he blew cold air on his spit he saw goosebumps raise across your skin. 

from down here, sohee could smell you so clearly. although dried sweat clung to your body and left a salty taste on sohee’s tongue he felt himself needing more. you smelled like the soil and the air and the sun rolled into one, laid out for him like you were something to eat. sohee was getting high off of you, and the way you squirmed underneath gave him tunnel vision. he focused on what was hiding underneath the soft pair of panties that were clad to your body.

“can i eat you out?” he asked bluntly.

you felt all the blood drain from your face when sohee’s words hung in the air. your eyes that focused on the ceiling fan broke away from the spinning blades to see if sohee was as red as you felt. but he was unashamed, staring at you almost like he was pleading. you couldn’t say no to him, nothing in you wanted to say no. but simultaneously saying yes to something so lewd made you shake your head.

“you don’t have—.” you said timidly.

“i want to.” sohee’s hand went to the thin waistband of your panties, breaking past the elastic. you saw sohee’s fingers curve underneath the fabric, and his cold fingernails pressed into your pelvis. “really.” he assured.

you stared at him for a second longer, trying to hold out just incase he changed his mind. when sohee remained unfaltering, you felt enough of an ego boost to nod your head.

“okay.” you whispered.

sohee was slow pulling your panties down. he moved from between your legs to the side, resting on his haunches as he pulled them down your legs. his gaze flickered from your legs to your face, and then your exposed stomach. sohee alternated between all of it while he went back to slot himself between your legs. you spread slightly for him, watching him look at your core. with the back of your hand pressed to your forehead you felt hotter than ever. when sohee placed a kiss on your inner thigh you twitched.

sohee motioned for your hand the gripped the shag rug, instead guiding it to his brown hair. he encouraged you to tighten your grip, and when you did he nodded approvingly.

“so i know when i’m doing a good job.” he said quickly.

before you could say anything else, sohee placed a chaste kiss right on your spread cunt. you already felt yourself tugging at his hair, lips parted as you started inching your body towards his mouth. sohee smiled into the next chaste kiss, then he let his lips slightly part. before you knew it he was placing open mouthed sloppy kisses on your heat, and you were grinding your hips onto his mouth.

when sohee pushed his finger into your clenching hole, your back arched off the rug. sohee pressed his hand into your lower stomach to keep you still, and you began lifting your head to see him clearly. he was focused on your cunt, kissing and licking the most sensitive parts of you. when he felt your eyes he locked in on you, moving his hasty lips to suck on your clit. 

you thought about immortalizing the image of sohee’s plush lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves and the sound of him moaning into your folds for eternity. his eyes looking up at you for approval could be kept on your hard drive forever, reserved for your eyes only. you moved your body to the side to reach for the camcorder and sohee unknowingly pressed his hand deeper into your stomach to keep you in place. you curled around his hand as he applied pressure to the tension building deep in your stomach. he kept his eyes focused on your clit for a second longer, replacing his mouth with his free hand as he caught his breath. 

“sohee.” you got his attention back, and his eyes followed your hand that was reaching for the camcorder. “can i record you, sohee?” you asked timidly.

he looked up to you again, this time making eye contact with the camcorder you now held your shaking hand. he felt you clench around his fingers as your eyes stayed focus on the folded playback screen. sohee could see the dim glow of the video on your face as you brought the camera closer, trying to fit as much as you could in the frame.

“of course.” sohee said, placing a kiss to your inner thigh.

you let out a shaky breath and sohee saw the red light flicker on to point at him. sohee put his hand on your ankle, guiding one of your legs until your thigh was over his shoulder. you moved behind the camera, your quiet gasps caught on film as sohee pulled your heat closer to his lips. his eyes found the lens, his smile caught on the viewfinder. you watched the tiny screen with bated breath, only looking up when sohee did it first. he held your eye contact above the camera, a smile on his face as he leaned onto his side. with his free hand he plunged two fingers into your heat without hesitation. his lips parted as he watched you tilt your head back. tiny whimpers slipped past your lips as sohee continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, twisting his wrist to give you more stimulation. he looked down at the camera that was already pointing away from the action due to you being distracted. sohee stopped pumping his fingers, his eyes were focused on your heaving chest as you tried to regain your composure. when you lifted your head from the rug sohee gave you his most innocent smile, nodding towards the camera resting on your stomach.

“just keep filming me, yeah?” sohee said encouragingly.

“okay.” you shaky hand pointed the camera back to his face. “i got you.” you said out of breath.

sohee continued where he left off, adding three fingers and flicking his tongue on your clit. he looked up to the shaking camera occasionally, but his eyes were mainly focused on your back arching off the rug and you biting your lip to stifle your sounds. he took it as a challenge, trying everything he could to hear you make noise for him. he imagined hearing your whimpers and moans behind the camera when he would watch the playback. the mental image pushed sohee to pump his fingers in and out of you faster, until you brought your other leg to rest on his shoulder.

“sohee.” you whimpered behind the camera. “i’m so close.”

he nodded against your clit, pulling away to let a glob of his spit and your slick slide down your folds. sohee heard you moan at that sensation, loud and desperate as it acted as a lubricant for his pumping fingers. sohee could see your tight grip on the camcorder as your unfiltered sounds filled the room.

“let me hear you.” sohee said quickly before going back to your clit.

you registered sohee’s request late as the feeling washed over you. you were barely in your right mind to hold the camera straight as your legs closed in around sohee’s head. you were pathetic in every sense of the word. the loud moans that bounced off the walls of your room, the way you rode sohee’s tongue, the way you shook your head from the overstimulation. you were a mess and sohee watched it all, and soon you would be able to as well.

when you were done, your still recording camcorder rested on your chest as you desperately tried catching your breath. you saw sohee raise from between your legs, wiping his face with the back of his hand before crawling up your body. he brought you in for another kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth instantly. you moaned at the taste of yourself and sohee broke away quickly to let you try and catch your breath.

“i need you. so bad.” you murmured.

you held up the camcorder, shaking as you watched sohee stand up to take off his pants and underwear. he looked around your room, his erect dick bobbing mid-air. you looked past your camera to stare at his body.

“do you have condoms?” sohee asked.

you nodded, making the camera move as a result. sohee followed your pointed finger offscreen to the top drawer of your dresser.

“it’s at the—“

sohee found it quickly, holding the foil packet like it was a piece of treasure. he fumbled with the perforated tear as he went back to kneeling beside you, nearly ripping the package in half. before he could lay down you pointed to your bed. 

“can you grab me a pillow for my back?” you asked.

sohee nodded, immediately grabbing the exact pillow you had in mind. 

he dropped to his knees in front of you, crawling with the pillow and condom in his hand. when he was close enough he helped you lift your hips and slid the pillow underneath, looking to you for approval. when you nodded and pointed the camera to his torso. you, sohee, and the camera all watched him grab his hard dick in his hand as he slid the condom on. he rested on his legs and pinched the end of the latex, making sure it was on securely.

when he was done sohee motioned for the camera, and you lifted your weak hand from your stomach to give him the camcorder. he pulled your hand from the strap gently and put his hand in the same place to hold it securely.

for a moment sohee turned the camera around to check for the red dot and you could see him in the viewfinder. something about him looked so perfect to you, almost like he was made to be shot on shitty technology from the 90’s. you saw his large eyes blink for a moment before he turned the camera back to face you, and you could hear the sounds of him messing with the zoom as he tried to find his own angle. he constantly looked up from the tiny screen on the camcorder to look at you, trying to make sure he was getting the perfect framing.

“you look so pretty on camera baby.” sohee said.

his inexperience being behind the camera was obvious as he continued messing with the settings, and your inexperience with being in front of the camera was obvious too. you instinctually let your knees close in on eachother, suddenly nervous to show what you had exposed moments ago.

sohee instantly notices, lowering the camera from his face to slot himself between your legs. he gently separates them with a comforting hand, rubbing your knee tenderly. 

“so pretty.” sohee holds the camera back up, tracing the line of your legs up to your face that felt like it was on fire. “just for us right?” he asked.

“just for us.” you said, nodding your head.

sohee pointed the camera down at your cunt, his free hand running down your inner thigh then back to your knee. you were wiggling your hips closer to him in anticipation, eyes locked on his twitching dick. sohee pointed the camera to you and you let him catch your hungry gaze. he smirked and moved his hand to his dick, letting the camera film him slapping your puffy folds. you jolted from the sensation and tiny gasps slipped past your lips. you could see his smile behind the camera as he kept going.

sohee shuffled forward on his knees until his hips were close to yours. when he lined himself up at your entrance he looked down at you. sohee reached his hand that wasn’t holding the camera out to you, and you grabbed it without hesitation. when he pushed into you, both of your hands were squeezing at the others desperately as the sensation overtook you both. sohee could barely focus on holding the camera as he slid inside of you, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt yourself clamp around him repeatedly.

“holy fuck.” sohee pulled out and watched himself in the playback when he pushed himself back in. “you feel so good.” he groaned.

sohee’s gaze flickered between the camera and your body as he began working his hips. he was slow and deliberate with each thrust, making sure you felt all of him. you started moaning pitifully, feeling that familiar warmth slowly spread across your body. you started swiveling your hips, trying to get more stimulation.

“want me to touch you?” sohee asked behind the camera.

you shook your head no, pressing your body against the ground. when you looked up you saw that sohee had lowered the camera slightly so you could see his whole face.

“i wanna keep holding your hand.” you whimpered.

sohee nodded his head knowingly, seeing that you two were now in a predicament. he wanted to see you finish, but at the same time he only had two hands. he didn’t want to stop filming and he didn’t want to let go of your soft hand that was holding his so tight. his eyes drifted to your free hand that still gripped your shag rug and as if a lightbulb went off above his head, he knew what to do.

“can you—” his train of thought was cut off when you clamped around him again. “touch yourself for me?” he asked.

instantly you nodded, you hand going to your clit to rub gentle circles. sohee saw your body react quickly as you arched from the ground and bit your lip a little harder. sohee was so immersed in his view that he forgot about the camera catching all of it on tape. sohee memorized the way you touched yourself to do it to you later. he watched the muscles in your stomach jump and your body occasionally twitch. his lips were parting solely from seeing you get closer and closer. when your grip on his hand tightened sohee hissed, driving his hips deeper to try and give you what you needed. he saw your half lidded eyes open a little wider as your fingers worked faster.

“sohee.” you pulled him closer by his hand, squeezing so tight that sohee’s grip loosened. “i’m cumming” you whimpered.

“go ahead.” sohee grunted.

your fingers that worked your clit started faltering and doing incomplete circles as the rest of your body became tense. sohee stared at you in awe, suddenly remembering that he would have video proof of something so beautiful forever. he took this time to watch you with his own two eyes and to feel you everywhere. when he swiped his tongue across his lip he still tasted you, as sweet as the view before him. he instinctually babbled praises to you, things he had kept to himself all summer or hid under the blanket statement “you’re really good at filming”. 

when your body fully relaxed, and your walls started feeling like a heartbeat around his dick, sohee felt himself becoming desperate. he started picking up the pace but failing to hit the spot he needed due to his preoccupied hands. you must’ve noticed, because you weakly lifted your head to look down.

“go faster sohee.” you pushed your hips to meet his uneven thrusts for emphasis. “please.” you begged.

sohee nodded his head and then moved his hand holding the camera to separate your knees further. you could see him trying to figure out the angle, if it would be possible to give you what you needed while also holding the camera. you felt sohee look at you as he took his hand from the strap that held your camera securely in his hand.

“here.” he motioned for you to grab the camcorder. “hold the camera for me baby.” he said.

sohee put the camera back in your hand, and you propped yourself on your elbows to try and see it all. his speed didn’t falter, and his quiet moans rung throughout your room as he fucked you through his orgasm. you felt yourself feeling the aftershocks of your own peak, becoming so sensitive that your body shook each time you clamped around sohee’s dick. he came forward, head pressed into your collarbone as he kissed your clammy skin. his free hand went to the underside of your thigh and gripped you harshly, and his controlled moans turned into whimpers as he continued rutting inside of you. your view from the camera was obstructed by sohee’s body, but you still brought your lips to sohee’s ear and let your breath fan the shell.

“we look so good together.” you whispered.

after you said that, sohee stilled inside of you. his moan vibrated against your skin and his grip on your hand became vice-like. you flicked your hips upwards a few times until sohee pressed his teeth into your skin.

you let your camcorder rest on your shag rug beside your two bodies as you brought your hand to press into the back of sohee’s head, making him kiss your skin with a new vigor. you two were equally ruined, out of breath as you both tried to keep the stimulation going. 

sohee’s lips travelled from your collarbone to your neck, then your jaw and ending at your cheek. you brought him back down to the ground with you, chests so close they touched each time you breathed. he settled on top of you, kissing your lips one final time before pulling out. he sighed and you turned to see sohee’s shaking hand stop the recording. he rolled next to you on the ground, letting the camcorder rest on his chest.

the two of you stared at your ceiling fan, laying side by side. you reached your hand out to sohee and he grabbed it silently. he squeezed your hand as he took a deep breath in.

“you’re joining the crew now, right?” sohee asked, still looking at the fan.

“if that’s okay with you.” you said.

“more than okay with me.” sohee says instantly.

you hum, feeling like a thank you doesn’t quite fit the situation. your mind is on other things as you see the camera resting on sohee’s chest in your peripheral vision. 

“hey sohee?”

you turn to face him, and sohee turns his head from your ceiling to make eye contact with you.

“do you wanna watch it?”

[justagalwhowrites]

Undone

After a stressful week at the office, Joel knows just how to take care of his wife. AKA Joel Miller doms the stress out of you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: No Outbreak AU. Established relationship, husband and wife. Dom!Joel x Sub!Reader (light). Tiny little age gap (like 5 years? I'm picturing Joel at 44 and reader at 39?) Unprotected P in V sex. Oral sex, F receiving. Creampie. Overstimulation. Aftercare.

Length: 5.4k

A/N: This is totally self indulgent. It's also like... entirely smut. Sorry. But not really. OK love you bye!

Joel knew what you were after the minute you kicked the door closed. 

It was Friday and it had been a hell of a week for you. Joel had done his best to support you through it - he’d finished up one big job on Tuesday and didn’t start the next one until Monday - so he’d taken the lead on keeping the household running while you put in extra hours and came home frustrated and exhausted every night. 

He knew it wasn’t going to magically be better just because it was Friday, so he’d spent the day trying to make the end to your work week as good as he could. He went to the HEB and got your favorite snacks, picked out flowers for the kitchen table, even went by the liquor store on the way home to get everything you’d need to unwind at the end of your day. He started smoking ribs early that afternoon and was outside to sauce them when he heard the door slam behind you. 

Joel didn’t need to see what happened, he knew from the sound that you’d thrown the door open and then kicked it shut behind you. He’d bet the check from his next job that you’d be face down on the couch, your shoes and briefcase a little trail from the front door to the living room. He shook his head, taking a swig of Shiner before closing the smoker and heading inside to find his wife. 

You were exactly where he thought you’d be, taking up almost the entire length of the couch, flat on your stomach, blazer still on but your heels and bags scattered between you and the front door. 

“Aw baby,” he said sympathetically. “That great a day, hm?” 

You made a sound that was caught somewhere between a grunt and a groan. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

You made the sound again and Joel tried not to laugh at it. 

“Here,” he said, coming and adjusting your legs so he could sit beside you on the couch. You groaned as he did but he guided you from lying on your stomach to sitting up to leaning on him, your face in his chest. He put his arm around you and gave you a squeeze. “Tell me what melted down.” 

“We have our quarterly earnings release going out in less than two weeks,” you sighed. “And it’s a shit show. Legal’s been reviewing that shit for what feels like an eternity and I need to issue the goddamn release announcing the date of the full release but I can’t do that until I actually know that legal and financial are going to have stuff sorted in time and the CEO has emailed me twice a day about it the whole week because sure, the legal team definitely falls under my department…” 

Joel held the still mostly full bottle of beer in front of you and you took it from him, your fingers brushing his and you were quiet for a moment as you took a sip before handing it back. 

“Also, HR is going to be the death of me,” you continued, on a tear now. “I swear, it shouldn’t be that hard to find a qualified entry level candidate but here we are, still short staffed 10 weeks after I got the OK to hire. They’ve sent me two resumes, Joel. Two. I called them today to ask how many they’d received and they’ve had 226 candidates apply and they’ve sent me fucking two! I refuse to believe that just one percent of applicants were remotely qualified so I asked them to forward me all the applications since, apparently, recruiting can’t do their damn jobs so I’m going to have to do it for them…” 

Joel nodded along, handing you the beer periodically when he felt you getting too worked up. He found himself, not for the first time, awed by what you did for a living. He didn’t understand much of it, really, and he was thankful he didn’t need to. He wasn’t cut out for that kind of shit. You, on the other hand, had jumped in with both feet when you’d started at your company seven years ago when the two of you had just started dating, You’d risen up the ranks quickly and you now had a team of several dozen people reporting up to you. As gentle and sweet as Joel knew you to be at your core, he knew you were also unflinchingly driven at work. During the COVID shut down, he’d gotten a glimpse of it, listening to you take people - mostly men who seemed to think you weren’t as capable as you clearly were - to task and get things done. He was eternally grateful that, when the two of you fought, you didn’t take him down the way you did people who crossed you in the office. Though that stood in sharp contrast to how Joel heard you talk to the people who reported up to you, with you seemingly always happy to lend an ear or provide guidance or take the heat if they fucked something up that was going outside your department. 

Unfortunately, that meant you had weeks like this one, where plenty went wrong and you had no one to pass the buck to. And he knew as well as you did that you wouldn’t just let something fall apart, not if there was a damn thing you could do about it. Even if that meant working yourself into the ground. 

After a while you just deflated against him and he handed you the beer again. You took a long drink, emptying the bottle, and Joel took it from you to set on the side table. 

“Feelin’ better?” He asked, his nose brushing your hair. 

“Kind of,” you sighed, pressing yourself closer to him. 

“Somethin’ more I can do?” He asked, trying to make sure that he wasn’t nudging you in the direction he was hoping this would go. 

“Yeah,” you said, something shifting in your tone when you said it. No longer frustrated and fed up, instead needy and wanting. You sat up from him and looked at him through your eyelashes, practically pouting. “Turn my brain off for a bit?” 

Joel’s heart picked up, heat and tension already gathering low in him. 

“Aw, my baby need me to fuck her stupid?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face in his hand. His thumb traced along the arch of your cheekbone as his eyes locked on your blown pupils. “You need me to make that big brain of yours slow down for a while, that it?” 

“Yes please,” you breathed. He could feel your skin getting warmer below his touch. 

“Please what?” 

“Please sir,” you said, holding your hands up with your wrists together, like an offering. “Please fuck me stupid. Please sir.” 

He quirked his jaw before he smiled, dark and low.

“Good girl,” he growled. He got up and closed his large hands around your wrists before pulling you sharply to your feet, looking you up and down as he did. There was something that drove him wild, seeing you like this. Dressed in your armor of the business world, a place where lesser men had to go to you for permission to do a goddamn thing, and you came home to him, begging him to strip you down to something small and vulnerable and easily consumed. 

He wasn’t sure why you’d picked him of all people. When you’d met almost eight years earlier, his first thought was that you were way out of his fucking league. A friend of Tommy’s then girlfriend now wife, you were a few years younger than him but had clearly kept your life on the right fucking track the whole time instead of driving it into the ground for a while first. You’d gone to college, built a damn impressive career, had goals and dreams and plans for yourself. You were beautiful and smart and funny and kind and the first time he’d taken your clothes off he was still not entirely sure why you were letting him do it. 

He’d been even more surprised the first time you’d shared with him that you wanted him to take control in the way he was now. 

“I just have to make decisions all the time,” you’d said, folded into a corner of his couch with a glass of wine in your hands. “I just really want to have someone else take over for a while, you know? Not have to make any plans or take care of anybody else, just enjoy and be enjoyed.” 

That, Joel had thought, he could give you. 

It wasn’t something the two of you always indulged in but there were days like this one where you seemed to crave it. Maybe even a step beyond that - you needed it. You needed the safety of Joel’s guidance, the comfort of his control, the ease of his pleasure. He liked to give you those things. More than liked it, sometimes he lived for it. 

Today was one of those days. 

He led you to the bedroom and stood you at the foot of the bed, your wrists still firmly in his hands as his eyes searched yours. 

“You just want to be my little doll, is that it?” He asked, his thumbs brushing the inside of your wrists. Your pulse was heavy and hard. “Want me to take control so all you have to do is feel what I let you feel?” 

“Yes,” you breathed. 

“Yes what.” 

“Yes sir,” you were practically squirming. 

“What are your colors,” he said more than asked. 

“Green, yellow, red,” you answered quickly. 

“Where are you now?” 

“Green.” 

“Good girl,” he guided your hands so they hung at your sides. “Don’t move until I tell you.” 

He watched you resist the urge to nod and he slipped his hands below the lapels of your jacket, running his hands over your skin for a moment before shoving the sleeves down your arms and leaving the blazer in a pile on the floor. He watched you swallow, your throat working and he tried not to think about making you kneel and taking his cock into that pretty throat of yours. He knew just how good it would feel while you sucked him, how fucking good it would feel to come down your throat. 

Maybe later. Right now, he needed to take care of you. And that’s exactly what he was going to do. 

*** 

When Joel touched you like this, it was like something unspooled inside yourself. There had been a knot in your stomach for days at least - maybe longer - and nothing had worked to untangle it. Not crossing things off your to do list at the office, not the yoga class you’d skipped lunch to take, not the iced latte your assistant had ducked out to grab you that afternoon. But Joel’s hands on your skin as they slipped the slender straps of your satin top down your arms were better than anything else, especially when your mind wasn’t going a mile a minute thinking of ways to please him in return. You watched as he moved to undress you, his eyes heavy and hot and hungry as your top pooled around your hips. He reached around your body to unhook your bra, casting it aside before cupping your breasts in his large palms, groaning as he did. 

“You feel so good,” his thumbs brushed your nipples. “My soft, pretty fuckin’ girl.” 

“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. He’d told you to stay still and you had to obey. If you didn’t, you knew he’d drag out your first orgasm for what felt like an eternity, bringing you just to the edge of it but never letting you fall into your climax until you were a desperate, dripping, squirming mess. 

“What, baby?” He almost cooed at you, just a hint of a teasing edge to his tone. “What’s my baby need?” 

“More,” you whined. “I need more, please, I need…” 

He took his hands off you then and looked you in the eye and you almost reached for him before you caught yourself. 

“Who decides what you need right now,” he said. You moaned and he ignored you. “Who. Tell me, pretty girl.” 

“You,” you said. 

“That’s right,” he nodded. “And I’ll give you more when I decide you need more and I decide I’m done enjoyin’ the parts of you I’m enjoyin’ right now. So. You stand still like a good little doll and we’ll see when I’ll let you have more. Got it?” 

“Yes,” you said. 

He took your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“Yes what.” 

“Yes sir.” 

His crooked smile dimpled his cheek. 

“Good girl.” 

He returned to touching you, running his large and callused hands over your shoulders to your chest, holding and massaging your breasts and you could tell he was taking his time less for himself and more because he knew what it was doing to you. That it was making you achy and desperate and the thoughts that had been weighing on you all day at the office were slipping out of your mind, drifting far away into the ether. 

“Think I remember you sayin’ something about more?” Joel said, his voice low and gravelly as his hand slipped over your stomach, below the bunched fabric of your shirt, below the waistband of your pants until his fingertips were brushing your bare mound inside your panties. You whimpered. “How about I give you some more, hm?” 

His index finger reached out and brushed the top of your clit, sending a shiver through you, all the heat you had inside yourself pooling low in your stomach. 

Joel chuckled. 

“Think she likes it.” 

He pressed a little lower, a little firmer, working your sensitive nub in slow, languid circles. 

“She like this too?” 

You nodded frantically. 

“Thought I told you not to move,” Joel said, stern. 

“But…” 

“No buts,” he cut you off. “You wanted to give me control so you give me control. Otherwise, you won’t get what you want. Got it?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“You’re lucky,” he said as he went to open your pants. “Got me all worked up, too. Too worked up to draw this out the way you deserve, squirmin’ the way you are.” 

He got on his knees in front of you and gathered the fabric of your shirt, pants and underwear in his hands and pulled them all down in one go, the sudden exposure of your skin to the air making you gasp and goosebumps scatter over you in sharp little pin pricks. 

“Fuck, there you are,” he groaned, his hands coming to grip the thick swell of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat of you as he pressed a kiss to your stomach just below your belly button. You moaned, wanting nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his curls. You clenched your fists tighter, nails digging into your palms, acutely aware of where he was touching you because of the absence of him everywhere else. 

He trailed his mouth down to your slit, his tongue dipping into you there, brushing against your clit, the heat of his mouth in sharp contrast to the cold air against your wetness. His hands slipped up your back, finding your waist before Joel stood, his still clothed body so close to your naked one. 

“Lie down for me,” he said, a little breathless. “Middle of the bed.” 

You rushed to obey and watched hungrily as Joel undressed himself, his black t-shirt coming up and over his head, his jeans opening to reveal his tight boxer briefs with his thick, hard cock straining the fabric. He took off everything before crawling up the bed over you and, for half a moment, you thought he really was going to give into you that quickly, give you exactly what you wanted that fast. But instead of settling between your thighs with his heavy length brushing against your slit and his mouth on yours, he fell to the side of you, the weight of him jostling the mattress. You turned your head to look at him, confused, and he laughed, dark and low. 

“You didn’t think you were gonna make me give in that fast, did you?” He asked. He slid one arm below your ribs, his hand coming up and around the back of you to hold your breast while his other hand teased a feather light path down from your throat, over your chest, your stomach to your slit. “No, not done with this yet.” 

“But…” 

“You just lie still and let me worship you,” he said, his palm cupping your mound, his middle finger settling between your lower lips as he put gentle pressure against your clit. The tip of his finger circled your dripping entrance but didn’t slip inside where you were aching and desperate for him. “Want to enjoy you for a while.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, his mouth finding just the right spot on your throat at the same moment he added pressure to your clit, grinding his hand against your most tender place and making your back arch below his touch. 

Joel kissed and licked and sucked along your neck, your collarbone, your breast, his cock brushing against your thigh as he manipulated your body and you could feel his precome on your skin when it did and you were desperate to touch him there, to feel just how hard you’d made him, make him start to unravel the way he was doing to you. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, a finger sliding inside of you, making you groan. 

“But I want…” 

He pulled back from you to look in your eyes and you could tell from the glassy look on his face that you probably already looked like a fucked out mess. 

“You tryin’ to make me feel good or you want it for yourself?” He asked, brows raised. You tried to find the words but couldn’t. He nodded. “S’what I thought, you sit still like I fuckin’ told you. You try to touch me and I won’t let you come, got it? This is about you, not me so you’re gonna lay there and take it, understand?” 

“Yes sir,” you whimpered. 

He went back to working you over, adjusting so that he could fully kiss down your body until his head was between your thighs, two fingers buried inside of you as he looked up your body to your face. 

“New rules,” he said, pressing his lips to your clit for a moment and sucking it into his mouth before continuing. “Want you to come and I want you to come hard. You’re allowed to touch my head to put me where you need but you do anything else with those hands and we’re startin’ over. Understood?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Good girl.” 

He practically dove into your pussy, his thumb working your clit, his tongue licking deep into your channel. The fire in your belly burned brighter and it was like you could feel all the blood in your body pulling into the center of you. Your hands flew to his head, the thick of his hair and the heat of his scalp almost sharp against your fingers after having felt nothing but your own palms for what felt like forever. You rocked your hips against his face as he ate at you, a finger slipping into you alongside his tongue, working the inside of you deftly so that you were never empty but never lacking the friction of him moving in you. His fingertip curled into the soft, sensitive place inside of you that he found so easily now, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his thumb and nose worked your clit and you felt your pussy get so tight and hot you worried, for half a second, that it would hurt him before every worry flew out of your head entirely, your entire body flooded with waves of pleasure as you came on his tongue. 

Joel worked you through your orgasm, never letting up as you moaned and panted, your grip on his hair easing as your body started to go limp. Your pussy was so sensitive when your climax eased but Joel didn’t pay your little whimpers any mind. He pulled his mouth from you but added another finger, fucking into you with his hand and adjusting so his palm was grinding against your clit as he did. 

“There you go,” he panted, wiping your slick from his mouth before taking his cock in his hand and working himself with it. “That what you needed, pretty girl?” 

“Yes sir,” you whimpered. 

“Good,” he said, his eyes ranging over you, dark and hot. “Because now it’s my turn.” 

He pulled his fingers from you and spread your thighs a little wider, lining his cock up with your still weakly grasping hole for half a moment before thrusting deep into you in one devastating go. You gasped at the stretch of him filling you like that, the inside of you still soft and tender from your orgasm. Your fingers scrambled at the blanket below you, your back arched and taut and you tried to hold onto something - anything - in your head beside how he was splitting you open. 

“I say you could use your hands like that?” He asked, his fingers finding your wrists and clamping around them. He pressed deep inside you and folded over you, bringing your hands with him, pressing your wrists down into the mattress over your head. “Didn’t think so. You’re my little doll right now, ain’t you? Mine to do what I want with and I want you to take it.” 

“Joel,” you whimpered. 

“That ain’t my name right now, is it?” 

“Sir,” you corrected, resisting the urge to rock your hips up against him. “Please!” 

“Please what?” 

You couldn’t put words to what you wanted to ask for and Joel just smirked before releasing your wrists and sitting up, looking down over your body to where he disappeared inside of it. 

“What I thought,” he said, his hands pressing your thighs wide before his thumb trailed over where you were split open on him to your clit, teasing you in a slow circle that made you jerk involuntarily below him. He took it away, his hand on the soft flesh of your thigh again. “You leave those hands there and take it. You can take it, pretty girl. Know you can.” 

With that, he pulled back, slow and aching, before fucking back into you, hard and fast with a forceful grunt. You watched him fuck you, his cock slamming into you with enough force that it jerked your body up and down the bed. You were lost in it, the way you could see his muscles flex, the way his eyes ranged over you - watching the place he was spreading you open and the way your tits bounced for him and up to your face to meet your eyes and back again. It was almost hypnotic, like there was nothing else in the world that existed outside of him. He was controlling you totally, fucking into you with enough force that you couldn’t even breathe out of sync with his thrusts, your body just something he could manipulate and pleasure and use however he saw fit. 

You weren’t sure how long he fucked you like that before his hands ran over your thighs to your core, his thumbs brushing along your clit, pressing into you there and working you in hard little circles as your channel started to tighten around him again. 

“There we go,” he panted. “Got another one right there don’t you? You’re gonna give it to me, aren’t you pretty girl. Gonna give me everything, ain’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you whined, your fingernails digging into your palms as you fought to keep your hands still. 

“Good girl,” he pressed himself deep as he worked your clit and returned to his same punishing rhythm, the head of him finding the place inside you he’d claimed for himself. He left one thumb on your clit, his other hand stretching up and over your stomach, fingers splaying wide on you until it was in the middle of your chest where you knew he could feel how your heart was pounding behind your ribs. The feel of him everywhere was overwhelming, the tight spool of pleasure that had never fully relaxed after your first orgasm already wound unbearably tight again. 

“Want you to come for me,” he said, voice needy. “Want you to be a good girl and come. Give it all to me, baby, want you to just let go and give it all to me, let it all go, c’mon and come for me, make me fuckin’ feel it…” 

You cried out as you obeyed, your channel fluttering over his cock as he kept fucking you deep and hard. You could feel your orgasm in the very center of you, in every muscle and every nerve, your climax taking hold of you so firmly that you felt a gush of liquid rush out of you. 

“Fuck, there you go,” he said, not letting up. “Fuck baby, love when you squirt for me, such a good fuckin’ girl…” 

The wet snap of his hips into you was obscene and, as your orgasm eased, your body was already drawing tight again. Your heart raced and you could feel everything, everything, so sharp and harsh and overwhelming. Your head swam, your skin prickled. 

“Love feeling you come for me,” Joel was still fucking into you, hard and bruising like he was trying to climb inside your skin and claim a place for himself there. “Love when you get all tight and desperate, love making you all needy…” 

You let out a fucked out little whimper, tears pricking at your eyes, not able to see straight through the haze of your already building orgasm. Joel leaned over you, his cock buried deep but going still. 

“You with me, pretty girl?” He asked, his hands sliding up your arms to find your wrists, holding you gently in place. You couldn’t seem to find the words to answer, too overstimulated to think of anything beyond how he was filling you and surrounding you. “Gimme a color, baby.” 

“Yellow,” you managed. 

 He took your limp wrists in his large palms and guided your hands to his skin, resting them on his broad shoulders. 

“That help?” He asked. “You can nod.” 

You nodded quickly, your breathing evening out, body still tight and strung out. 

“Color?” 

“Green,” you said, the tears that were in your eyes slipping down your cheeks but not being replaced by new ones. 

“Good,” he shifted inside you, pulling back a little before thrusting in again. “Because I ain’t done with you yet. You keep those hands right where I put ‘em and just focus on coming one more time for me, need you to milk me dry, baby.” 

But his pace eased, less frantic and more desperate, working you slow and firm from within. He buried his face into your neck, his mouth finding that place that sent shocks of pleasure through your whole body. His hands ranged over you, fingers hungry and grasping at your skin, his hips working against your clit as his cock found its home deep within you. 

“Know you’re close,” he said against your skin, lips still close enough to brush against you as he spoke. He kissed along your neck, nose teasing along your throat. “You got one more in you, baby, I know you do.” 

“Sir,” you whimpered, pleading, not sure if you wanted to come or wanted to just dissolve. 

“You can come,” he fucked you slow and deep. His public bone pressed against your clit and your back arched. “Want you to come, want to feel you come. Make me feel you, baby. Be a good girl and make me feel you.” 

You dared to let yourself move, just enough that you could rock your hips up against him, working yourself with his body as you felt him grow impossibly thicker and harder inside you. Or, maybe, you were just tightening further around him, body clinging to him in one last desperate push for closeness as your climax hit again. You cried out with it and you couldn’t just leave your hands on Joel’s shoulders, instead latching onto his hair and sliding down his back, pulling him flush against your body so the only thing left in the world was him and his skin and the thick of his cock as he started to pulse inside of you. 

Your orgasm almost hurt it was so intense. You could feel every inch of Joel’s cock in you, the heat and softness of his skin against you, every muscle in your body going rigid and tense for a moment before relaxing. Your vision went spotty and you got light headed and you lost track of time. 

The next thing you knew, you were in Joel’s arms, cradled against his chest, his fingers trailing a gentle path along the edge of your hairline and jaw, thumb brushing the plush of your lips. 

“There you are,” he said softly and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his large hand coming to rest against your cheek as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were soft and warm and there was a gentle smile on his face. “How are you feelin’ love?” 

You took stock of your body for a moment, everything feeling light and airy. 

“I’m good,” you smiled a little. 

“Yeah?” He said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Take a deep breath for me, OK?” 

You nodded a little and did as you were told, only realizing then just how little your lungs had been inflating before. 

“How’s that feelin’?” He asked. “Good?” 

You just nodded, still smiling. 

“How about this for the night,” he said, going back to tracing an easy trail over your skin with his fingertips. “In a few minutes, I get up and get you water and a cocktail while you put on that pretty little swimsuit of yours. You float in the water while I look at ya and finish those ribs in the smoker…” 

“You’re making me ribs?” You almost pouted, your brows going up. 

Joel chuckled. 

“Yeah, that OK?” 

“That’s my favorite,” you said, feeling like you might be about to cry. 

“I know it is, baby,” he said, kissing your temple again. “S’why I made ‘em. Got that potato salad you like, green beans, cornbread too. Even got that chocolate cake you like so much…” 

“The Oreo one?” You sniffed, tearing up. 

“The Oreo one,” he brushed your hair back. “You still with me there baby?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, crying a little. You weren’t entirely sure why, just every emotion you’d had over the past week seeming to bubble up at once. “I think so…” 

“You’re OK,” Joel said, pulling you closer, his lips gentle on your skin. “I’ve got you.” 

You just nodded against him and focused on how his skin felt on yours, his warmth and strength grounding while your mind was still swimming. 

“What about after dinner?” You sniffed. 

“We can watch one of those movies you like so much,” he said. “I know the ones that’ve been on your list, you don’t gotta pick unless you want to. Sound good?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But… can we just stay here for a little while first? Please?” 

“Course baby,” he said. “Whatever you need. I’ll take care of you.” 

You nuzzled into his skin and breathed deep and you didn’t really know why you’d been so stressed when you got home to begin with. You just knew that you had Joel and that, as long as he was there, everything else would be OK.

[munariplans]

forty, love | part 2 | natasha romanoff

part 2 of forty, love | read part 3

synopsis: you lost, and natasha got what she wanted. or that's what you thought, at least.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 4.6k words

a/n: did y'all think i would leave you hanging just like that? come on now, i would never do that :D

masterlist

for the few seconds after the match, as the umpire announced the score officially, and declaring princeton as the winners, you were numb. there was nothing but ringing in your ears, no emotions, no feelings. you had simply laid your racket down on the court then, walking off with nothing but the ringing, and numbness, within. 

you almost couldn’t remember anything during the prize-giving ceremony. how you stood on a podium only slightly shorter than the winner, how you were handed a silver trophy instead of a gold one, how the organisers smiled at you warmly, still managing to utter a “congratulations”. you didn’t remember if you even bothered smiling in the photographs they took.  

then came the low hum. it sounded almost like white noise, but it was there. a low hum of something whirring around you, it could have been your coach, or your teammates, or even people squeezing in to try to get an autograph from you as you made your way to your dressing room. none of it mattered. it felt like you were walking on clouds, almost weightless as your feet carried you automatically to where you needed to be. you swiped your card against the door, and entered. it locked with a click after.

hunched over and your head in your hands was how natasha found you. she had begged the guards to let her into your dressing room when you had refused to open the door for anyone else, and reluctantly, knowing who she was to you, they had let her. the room was silent when she entered, you almost looked like a statue.

it was her turn to drop to her knees, facing you and trying to coax you to look at her. natasha managed to lift your head enough to see you, but not enough to look at her. she thought it was best to just lay your head on her shoulder, rocking you in comfort, in that position for a while. there were no tears against her shirt this time, strangely. 

five minutes passed. she knew it would possibly take longer, but then your hands were on hers, tearing yourself away from her touch. natasha wanted to smile as she saw the beautiful hue in your eyes again.

but then, you said, “you should leave.”

natasha didn’t even feel like she deserved to feel used, because she had done this to herself. she had asked for this, she had threatened to leave you first. she bit her lip, and shook her head slowly. “no, no, no.”

“natasha, please leave.”

“i hadn’t meant what i said, i wasn’t…baby, i’m not leaving you.” suddenly, the truth of what she had said had become too terrifying to confront. of course she hadn’t meant it. of course she didn’t intend on leaving you. not like this. not just for something as stupid as this. how could she leave you just because you had lost on a single point in a match? didn’t you know her better than this? 

natasha scrambled to her feet when you stood first, face devoid of any emotion. she thought it was less scary when you at least cried after losing. you made your way over to the trophy resting atop the vanity table, picked it up and shoved it towards natasha, and spat, “you didn’t have to say it out loud to mean it.”

then, natasha watched as you collected the rest of your items, and approached the door. she was still in shock, and remorse, but she knew at least, that if she allowed you to walk out this time, she would possibly never see you again. and so she gave chase, and before the door could unlock and you could step out, her arms were around your waist, her front pressed to your back, begging you to stay. 

“wait, wait, please. you have to listen to me–”

“–there is nothing to listen to,” you didn’t understand why she was even trying to hold on, “we’re done. it’s over. i lost, you will leave. you made it very clear, and i have accepted this fate even before you said it out loud. we both know we’re done, so can you just make it easier and let me leave?”

“no, we were o-okay, we were good. why are you suddenly…?” 

then, you turned to face her. “were we? tell me you see this playing out any better than it did today. tell me you would have really stayed.”

at her stunned silence, you took it as your confirmation. unlocking the door and pushing her off of you, you spared one last look at her, tears streaming down her cheeks and a hurt expression you would have killed to apologise for in the past, and said, “i hope you find someone better. someone who would always win for you.”

when natasha returned to your shared hotel room later on, she found that you had packed up all of your things and checked out early. your coach was kind enough to tell her that you had returned back to your dorms first. then, he gave her a sympathetic look, and told her that she shouldn’t try to find you, because you had advised your building security not to let her in. 

– 

a week after the match, however, natasha received a call from you. she was in the middle of waiting for the results of a scholarship interview, but it didn’t stop her from racing down the stairs, bursting out into the open lawn, and praying for complete silence so she could hear your voice better.

“hello…?” you realised she sounded hopeful, almost happy that you called. 

“hi, natasha. can we meet?”

you were to come over to her dorm later that evening. you wanted to discuss some things, natasha heard it as you wanting to give your relationship a second chance. you offered to bring her dinner as a peace offering, she heard it as your invitation for a reconciliation date. she declined and told you she would be cooking for you both. you ended the call with a noncommittal grunt. she felt like the heavens had blessed her with a second chance.

when she went home, she deep-cleaned her room, went out to get a bouquet of your favourite flowers, and even enlisted the help of her friends to help cook and set up a candlelit dinner for the both of you. she made sure everything was perfect, down to a T, and she was going to make sure that you wouldn’t regret giving her a second chance. 

you arrived ten minutes late in a t-shirt and jeans, and looking around at the setup of the room, the dim romantic lighting and the steak dinners on the makeshift table in her corner, it was then that you noticed natasha too, was in a dress that you always told her made her look like a million dollars. 

she was moving on fast, you thought. a dinner date right after your unloading of the last of her things? perhaps the natasha you knew was not really the natasha that was in front of you then. you couldn’t control the annoyance, “guess you’ve moved on, then?”

the sneer on your face disappeared the moment you looked back at her. she was staring at the box full of her things that were cradled in your arms, tears threatening to fall from her eyes at the sight of it all. that’s when you realised. it was all for you. 

you almost backed out. almost put the box down, shoved it back to where it belonged, strewn about your room and laying with your own belongings, and dropped to your knees in front of her. almost began repeating your usual i’m sorry, i’m sorry, forgive me, i love you in a million different ways, almost asking her to rethink all that had been done in the past week altogether. you almost went right back to her arms, wiping her tears and apologising for making her cry.

but you couldn’t do it. not anymore. natasha wasn’t yours now, and you were nothing to her. you needed to move on, you needed to be strong. so you gripped onto the box harder, and got on with what you wanted to say. 

“i’m sorry i ended things that way…in such a crude manner…during the finals. you didn’t deserve that, and i was so vexed and caught up in the heat of the moment. our separation…it should’ve been done better.” 

natasha didn’t know how else it could have been done better. how else you could have broken up with her that didn’t involve her getting her heart ripped out. 

but you were steady, the words memorised and practised over and over in your head, natasha knew. “i came here, not to fix things or to try again at something we both know isn’t going to work. i’m sorry if i gave you that impression. but i want us to remain cordial, at the very least, and not hate each other. not that i could ever hate you, because…” you cleared the lump in your throat at natasha beginning to weep, “...because you were my best friend, my motivation, my…everything, for almost all of my college life here. so, i think we deserve it, we both deserve at least remaining friendly with each other, for the past 3 years we have shared. i don’t regret it, and i hope you didn’t either.”

natasha was choking up with tears by then, the makeup on her face running down her cheeks as she desperately tried to hold herself, to stop the goddamn tears from flowing like a river. it was so embarrassing. your lips were bleeding with how hard you were biting them, but you remained strong. you wanted nothing more than to beg for her forgiveness, for her to take you back, to tell you that you were wrong and that she loved you despite it all and that she was never going to leave you ever again, but you couldn’t. you had to harshly remind yourself that she had moved on, and you should too. 

you gently laid the box by her bed, your shirt that had become hers over the years at the top of it, the only thing that you found hardest to let go of. it was yours, but you thought it was only fair that she had it. natasha sat on the bed, watching you stare at the shirt for a minute wistfully.

when you managed to pull yourself out of it, you turned back to her, the silent question ringing in the air. “you can um…keep my stuff. or throw it in the trash, burn it, give it away, whatever. it’s okay, you don’t need to return it back.”

natasha already knew she would be keeping all of it, for at least years after this. 

you prepared to leave, taking one last look at the room you had spent so many nights in, made so many happy memories in, and smiled softly at natasha. she tried to mirror one back, but another tear fell, and she gave up altogether. she didn’t get up from her spot on the bed.

“what are you going to do now…?” her voice was shaky, afraid. 

you shrugged. “the same things i have always done. tennis, college, aiming to win a grand slam. nothing much changes.”

except everything else had changed.

– 

when you started performing considerably better, returning to the winning ways that everyone doubted you could ever get back to, you noticed more of your critics keeping their mouths shut, and more of the college’s funding being used to support your career. you were handpicked to represent the school for matches, and nobody had to worry about making a bad investment. nine times out of ten, you won. and when you lost, the audience noticed that no rackets were smashed anymore, no longing looks to the first row of the crowds in embarrassment and worry. you simply shook the bad result off, and returned the next round even stronger. 

it was almost like a whole new player had been unveiled from the cocoon of what was shrouding her potential.

one night, hours before a match with a veteran player, you were up late in your room throwing a tennis ball against your door and catching it continuously, unable to sleep. it had been exactly six months after your breakup, and you rarely saw natasha around in school. you had heard from one source that she was back with her ex from the basketball team, then another that she was with someone else, then from another that she was with steve rogers, still. it didn’t matter; natasha never had an issue with finding suitors. 

you would be lying if you didn’t miss her. some days, you stared into the empty space in your bed that you would often wake her up in on game days, and she would coax you to sleep in on bad days. you missed having someone to celebrate your wins with, even someone to encourage you when you were losing sets and games after. sometimes, you missed her so much that you wondered if it was worth it to even break it off at all, and if you would be happier if you had let her stay by your side.

thwock. distracted, your ball misses the target of your door, and hits the hinge. it ricochets off, and rolls underneath your dresser. you sighed, getting up to retrieve it back. as you bent down to the gap between the dresser and the ground, however, something else greeted you first. 

it was a framed photograph of you and natasha, the last one that you had forgotten to pack and return to her. the both of you were at a new year’s eve party, kissing just as the ball dropped for the new year. a tight, restrictive force had found its way around your throat, as you flipped the dusty frame over to find out wishes you had written together to achieve in the new year. 

yours had been a stupid one liner: To win a grand slam soon! 

natasha’s handwriting was beautiful. your thumb grazed over it lovingly. her wish had made you shut your eyes for a minute after, choking down the feelings it evoked. 

To love my girlfriend through it all. 

her contact number was left on your phone’s display that night, as you finally fell asleep after contemplating calling her for another hour after that. 

– 

somewhere between graduation and your career flourishing, you qualified for the Australian Open, and was steadily moving up the rounds. by the time graduation day rolled around, the whole college inevitably knew who you were, and the bright future that awaited you.

natasha watched as you were given a minute or two to thank the college and its tennis department for their support for the past four years. her gaze twinkled in wistful remorse as she clapped the loudest within her section when you thanked the school one final time, and bowed upon receiving your degree. 

there was even a mini autograph session at the end, as you laughed bashfully when a group of students crowded around you for pictures and autographs in view of your success in the games. natasha, watching from afar, realised that this was the happiest she had seen you in a while, and swallowed the bitter confrontation that she was not there to be happy with you. 

she paced back and forth for a while, contemplating if she should do it, if it was worth it for her to try, but eventually, she worked up the courage to queue a little behind the other students, in hopes of saying a final goodbye to you. it was hard to find an opening, even harder to swallow her jealousy when she sees a girl slipping her number into your gown pocket after taking a picture with you. 

but then you saw her, at the back of the crowd, pacing nervously, and your eyes locked. you thought she still looked so cute in her nervousness, and a little sad at seeing her in a gown mirroring yours, but not saying goodbye to college together. you wanted to put the pen and tennis ball you were signing down, and run up to her to scoop her in your arms to tell her you were sorry, and that you wanted her to take you back, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t do any of the sort, not anymore.

instead, natasha then saw you shake your head ever-so-slightly, telling her a silent no. you were telling her not to come any closer, and although she was holding onto something you couldn’t see that she tried to raise up, to tell you that she had wanted to give it to you, you still didn’t have the willpower to let her come over. if she did, it was over for you. you would have folded so easily.

natasha had no choice but to back away. on her way home, she threw the letter she had handwritten over sleepless nights and eyes full of tears, to wish you good luck and goodbye for the last time in your lives, into the trash can by her dorm. 

– 

game, set, match. and she advances!

incredible, what this player, who, not too long ago, was in the danger zone of not even qualifying for local challenger rounds, is now beating the likes of one of the greatest talents in our generation! 

simply amazing. she’s booked herself another round.

you had beaten nearly all of your childhood idols at that point, when the magazines began painting you as tennis’ new prodigy and opponents began asking you to go easy on them before matches. people you never even dreamt of meeting, and then playing against, coming to shake your hand as you beat them round after round. to say you were overwhelmed, and eternally grateful, was an understatement. to become tennis’ next big thing at that stage in your career was something you could have only dreamed of. your career was taking off and the money was rolling in, and naturally, all eyes were on you.

however, the success and fame in your professional career didn’t necessarily translate to one in your personal one, when you found yourself still swiping through potential matches on dating apps, while waiting for your own date in the bathroom. when she returned, she steered the conversation to what you were doing for a living, and you caught yourself from rolling your eyes at the question. 

i’m an accountant. i work in real estate. occasionally, you told them, a big data analyst. not a tennis player, never a tennis player. you refused to make the same mistake in your college years over again; you refused to reopen and revisit the scars that natasha left you years ago. 

you told this one you were a data analyst, and she had bought it wholeheartedly. but when your drinks finished and more people returned after their days away to the hotel bar, a fan in a cap designed with your initials as the logo audibly gasped when he saw you, and naturally approached for a photo together. your date was taken aback, but you didn’t give her much time to react, placing your arm around her waist and walking the both of you out, under the guise of wanting to walk her home.

it turned out to be an even worse plan, however, when right around where she lived, was the biggest billboard you could have possibly gotten for your campaign with a luxury watch company. your face plastered right where she could see in plain view, she took a moment to look at it, then at you, then at it, then gasping too. you bit your lip and cringed. 

“why didn’t you tell me?! god, i’m going out with a celebrity!” she was more ecstatic than you had been after beating your opponent in the round last week.

you shrugged. safe to say there wasn’t a second date after that one.

–

ranking in the top ten of the US Open by then, you were often asked about your relationships and your personal life. it frustrated the media to receive the answer that you were incredibly private, and constantly refused to divulge anything about it.

natasha was watching you on the television one day, and the question arose again. the interviewer had asked who you would credit as the reason for your success after all this while. she must have been in the universe’s favour, or the stars had aligned right at the perfect time, because she caught the very telecast that caught you cracking the little bit of the facade you had built up after college.

you gave the interviewer a polite smile, and she looked like she was ready to give up, prepared to hear about your evasion of the question and request for another. but this time…this time, you indulged, and said, “my ex-girlfriend, from back in college.”

natasha’s world stopped. she immediately screamed for her roommate to stop her singing in the shower, and turned up the volume of the television. the interviewer asked for more details about natasha, you were kind enough to tell her that you didn’t know if natasha was comfortable with being made public, and in respect of her privacy, that she be kept anonymous. the ones who knew, would know.

“and where is she now…? this, wonderful, ex-girlfriend of yours. why is she no longer a girlfriend anymore?”

you looked down for a moment, smiling sadly. “um, i don’t know, honestly. we don’t keep in touch anymore, but i hope that wherever she is, she is happy. and i want her to know that i will always be thankful for what she’s done for me, and that i loved her very much.”

the telecast cut to shots of you signing more caps and tennis balls shortly after. natasha didn’t even realise the steady stream of tears that had been flowing down her cheeks. 

she screamed in frustration, and sadness, as she threw the remote forwards, knocking over a row of memorabilia and your tennis merchandise. there were rows and rows of tennis balls, caps, and little racket figurines purchased from your team that natasha had embarrassingly collected, as if having even small, tiny pieces of you was better than having none of you at all. the tennis balls were signed, but bought from resellers that natasha paid too much for, all while glowering with envy that these people, of all people, had the chance to meet you, talk to you, and get a hand-signed ball that they only intended to ever make a quick buck off. 

steve had made fun of her once, that instead of spending hundreds for some marker ink on a ball, that she could have picked up the phone and just called you for one instead, but as she told him off for being so dismissive of her feelings, and yours, he quickly cowered in fear after. she didn’t want to disturb your peace, and winning streak, and had unfortunately settled for loving and supporting you from afar.

–

at the final round of the US Open, natasha’s employer had noticed her eyes poring over the office’s large-screen coverage of the grand slam for the past few weeks, and took pity on her, giving her passes to cover the finals on behalf of the company as a reward for all of her ground-breaking pieces for the year. in all of the years natasha had worked there, she had never felt so insurmountably happy, yet bone-crushingly nervous, upon being informed of the news.

it didn’t help that up from where she was, in the tiny box that was her luxury hospitality suite, she had practically a front-row view of your entire match. her eyes followed your hands, as they first shook hands by the net with the opponent, the reigning champion of the previous US Open, as they tightened your laces and prepared themselves for the gruelling match ahead, as they finally picked up the racket. 

the last time natasha had watched a game of yours in person was in college. and right then, she was suddenly overwhelmed, with the nostalgia, and awe, that you carried yourself with, upon coming onto the court. your gait and waves had been the same, but the expression on your face, a little older, a little wiser, was now more polite, and less smug, no doubt hammered up by the tons of media training that you had been put through. your stance was even more fierce, and confident, than ever before. and when you played, oh boy, when you played, natasha, much like everyone else, was in a trance. they knew they had just bought tickets for a thriller, whenever you played.

college you and professional you were two different persons on two different sides of the same coin.

thwock. “in!” you dominated the first set.

the ball soared, and soared, and landed. the way you hit it back over the net activated the sensors, even though natasha was confident that her own two eyes saw the ball go over it. the umpire told you that you had touch the net, the crowd booed in disapproval, and you tried reasoning back. his word was final, and natasha had expected you to retort back even more fiercely, with an insult for him at the tip of your tongue, or a spiteful you don’t know how to play tennis that you would spit at him, but there was none of it. 

natasha should have known, from all of the matches of you she watched. you had grown up, and matured. and this time, you simply kept your head down, nodded, and returned to position. the point was not yours.

but you dominated the second set. the opponent took the third. and the fourth. it was the last set then. 

natasha’s hands were pressed up on the glass, watching you serve. it hit within the line by a few millimetres, but the opponent was just as quick, whacking it straight back, forcing you to a volley. but your feet recovered, and soon enough, you were controlling the pace and momentum of the game. it became apparent who was going to be the clear winner of the day.

thwock. when the final serve, the serve that mattered most to the both of you, and was a match point, was raised, natasha felt her eyes widening as it hit the racket, and travelled incredibly slowly to your side of the court. you raised your racket, expression set to hit it back, when suddenly, she saw it. the crack of a smile.

you lowered the racket. the ball was out. you had officially won the US Open. 

natasha remembered screaming, jumping, pumping her fists in the air. she must have looked like a mad woman, being the only journalist to be celebrating like a diehard fan up in that box, but she didn’t care. none of them knew you like she did, none of them would ever know you like she did. 

she thought that for a moment, you had looked up to her then, finding her in the crowd and making eye contact. her breath caught in her throat, but just as quickly, you looked away, and allowed the crowd to sing in your praises. it must have been a figment of natasha’s imagination.

a/n: sorry it got a bit too long, i might just consider a part 3 now hehe. but it looks like R is not the only one down bad for the other. who do you think has it worse for the other between these two?

[motherlvr]

hi:D can you do miles!42 with a reader who doesn't really like getting told "watch who ur talking to" or smth bc most fics abt miles!42 is like that and nooo i won't ever let a man say that to me😭 and they like, know how to defend themself so they're pretty independent if thats alr ofc!

ngl i loved writing this, tysm for the req!

wc: 2.1k

pairing: E-42 Miles Morales x Strong, Independent! f! reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of rivalry tbh, cursing, Miles is mean in this one, but gets character development, reader knows how to fight, baddie ong, reader doesn't take miles' bs

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

"You gotta be shitting me." Mumbling under your breath, your eye involuntarily twitched. You glared at Miles like it was his fault for putting you in this situation.

Your glare was reciprocated as he said, "I ain't happy about it either, princesa." You hated when he called you that. It rolled off his tongue with such distaste. "Yeah? Glad we got that in common then." You snipped, irritated.

Miles Gonzalo Morales was a dick. To put it kindly.

He was a stuck-up, close-minded dick. It's like his sole purpose in life was to irk you. The two of you have never been on good terms. He tested your patience every waking moment.

But unfortunately for both of you, your Spanish teacher paired you up as partners for a major project. It would count for a good portion of your grade, so not doing it wasn't an option for you. You had less than two weeks to finish the project, and you weren't going to waste it.

You'd much prefer to do the project alone. One thing you've learned is: if you want something done correctly, do it yourself. And to never put it solely in the hands of a man. But the project was a requirement for the class, so you had no place to argue about it.

Thankfully, today was just a planning day. So it wouldn't be as painful, you hoped.

You showed him a plan you had thought about within only a few minutes and asked, "Thoughts?" He took a short glance at it and told you, "That's trash." A vein almost popped out of your head. You snapped, "You got any better ideas then?"

"Yea, anythin' other than that." He told you mindlessly. You had half a mind to make his braided head become real familiar with the cold surface of his desk. Around ten minutes later, he had finally come up with something. It wasn't that great, but at least he was semi-cooperative. You took one look at his plan and decided to turn the tables on him. You said, "You couldn't have come up with anything better? Shit's worse than my idea."

You could see him grip his pencil just a bit tighter, no doubt irritated by now. "Nah, watch your mouth." He told you, and you were unsure of how serious he was being. "Watch my mouth? You needa watch how when you turn around, one of your precious braids will be gone." You said as you made a snipping motion with your fingers. He protectively grabbed onto his braids, "Yo chill, ma."

As Spanish class progressed, everything only went downhill from there. He always seemed to hate every idea you had or had something to say. He groaned, "Woman, I swear. Your ideas are shit." Your former hopes of a peaceful partnership were long gone.

His choice of words alone irked you as you replied, "See, that's what you're not gonna call me. And if we're gonna be partners, you need to act decent for once. Get it together, Morales." You set clear boundaries as you pointed a finger at him. Surprisingly, he obliged. He looked like he made a revelation as he shook his head. "Nah, you right. That was outta line." The moment was oddly tranquil until he opened his mouth again. "I meant: I swear, your ideas are fucking terrible."

From that point further, the hopes of having a normal, mature, conversation were fleeting. The majority of the class was spent bickering rather than working on the task at hand.

You were one of the very few people that tested him. You gave him a challenge, while most people wouldn't utter a single complaint.

Eventually, at the end of the class, the two of you finally landed on an idea to carry out. A true miracle.

The next week in Spanish class passed and the days were cutting it closer and closer to the deadline. But there was still much work to be done. So, begrudgingly, you both had to work on it out of school. After Spanish, you were packing up your things when you asked him, "My place or yours?" His response was immediate. "My place. I'll give you my address. Come over after school, 'ight?" He said, writing down his address and handing it to you.

You accepted it and said, "Alright. Are your parents good with me coming over?" You questioned if he even had the decency to check first. Although you couldn't stand him most of the time, you didn't want to intrude on his family. He shrugged it off, "Yeah my ma's good with it. Already told her."

He wasn't about to tell you that his mother demanded the project was done at his house so she could keep a keen eye on the both of you.

You were dreading the final bell of the day. Spending more time than legally required with Miles wasn't your ideal image of fun. As the school day ended, you walked over to Miles' house.

Knocking on the door, it was soon opened by no one other than Miles' mother. She was expecting you, as a smile adorned her face. You greeted her, "¡Hola, Señora Morales! Gracias por invitarme a tu casa." (Hi, Mrs. Morales! Thank you for inviting me to your house.)

She widened her eyes at you, "¡Claro! ¿Cómo estás?" (of course, how are you?) She asked you with a sweet smile. You replied and reciprocated a smile, "Bien, ¿usted?" (good, you?) To which she responded, "Muy bien, gracias." (very good, thank you) As you put down your things, you noticed Miles was standing only a few feet away. His mother pulled Miles to the side and whispered, "She speaks Spanish, I like her." Not wanting to give away that she was a loud whisperer, you concealed a small laugh. It's a wonder how Miles turned out like that. His mother's wonderful. You knew she raised him better.

After his mother was done speaking to him, Miles led you to his room. His mother called out, "¡Deja la puerta abierta!" (leave the door open!) "Si, mami." He said back in an unusually nice tone.

You previously believed Miles Morales was a universal dick. But you soon realized you were somewhat wrong. He was a dick. To everyone except his mother, it seemed.

As you both settled down to start working on the project, you grinned at him like you had just found out a Federal-level secret. "You're such a momma's boy." You said.

His head whipped to you like you knew something you shouldn't. "No one would believe you." He said. You teased, "Oh, everyone would. Trust."

This was the most civil conversation the both of you have ever held within your whole history of knowing Miles. The afternoon was sprinkled with light-hearted jokes here and there, and it wasn't as painful as you initially believed. Needless to say, being forcibly confined in a space with Miles went much smoother than you could've ever anticipated. The project was progressing for once. And so was your relationship with Miles.

A few days later, you were in a better mood than regular. Within the past few days, Miles has been more tolerable. Maybe even likable. Apparently, you were in too good of a mood. You must've appeared too approachable today.

As you were walking in the hallways of school to your next class, a guy you didn't recognize slung an arm around your shoulders and said, "Hey, what's good jit?" You immediately pushed his arm off. He reeked of an excessive usage of cologne. You winced at his stench. "Don't call me that." You assertively said. But he only took it as a challenge. He said with a wink, "You tryna play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along."

"I'm not 'playing hard to get'," You mocked with air quotations. Dumbing it down, you continued, "I don't want you." Could a girl make it any more obvious?

Your words went straight over his oversized head. He said with a disgusting smirk, "I can change your mind." Your face visibly grimaced at his desperate attempt, "Not even baby Jesus could change my mind."

He was starting to get agitated at this point, "Nah, why you trippin', girl?" he said. You immediately retorted, "Why can't you take a damn hint?"

"C'mon, I know you want me. Gimme a chance." He said. You were sick and tired of this interaction, so you just decided to walk away. Turning your back, you tried to escape this conversation. But he grabbed your hand to prevent you from leaving. "Aye, where you goin'?"

You tried to be patient. And where did patience get you? Nowhere. In your mind, this guy was way too testosterone-deficient to be talking tough to you. There was nothing worse than a teenage boy. More importantly, a boy that didn't know what 'no' means.

And in an instant, the sound of a slap resounded throughout the hallway.

He looked like he was about to start crying. Holding his cheek in pain, he sneered, "Fuck you, bitch. You ain't shit anyway. I ain't even want you." But as you tried to walk away once again, he placed a tight grip on your shoulder to prevent you from escaping.

Miles was skipping class and wandering in the hallways when he saw you. From your body language, he could tell you were uncomfortable. His eyes glanced toward the guy's grip on your shoulder, and Miles suddenly understood the situation. He could see where this was heading. Or at least, he believed he did. Miles was about to intervene when within the blink of an eye, you had flipped the guy on his back and onto the floor.

You told the boy on the floor, "Don't try that shit again. With me or any other woman, got it?" Groaning in agony, the guy whimpered in response, and you took it as a 'yes'.

The guy was no André the Giant, but it impressed the hell out of Miles nonetheless. Since when could you do that? He questioned himself. Miles had to prevent his jaw from dropping. He was suddenly glad he never pushed you that far. You walked away unbothered as if nothing had happened. He gained a newfound respect for you. But that would have to stay unspoken.

Once Spanish class rolled around, you realized it was the second to last day you had to finish the project, so you were working extra diligently in Spanish class. You told Miles, "Alright, I finished decorating it. What do you think?" showing him the project. Not that you cared what he thought, but it would make this whole process much easier if he wouldn't shit on your every move. You've had your daily dose of asshole for the day. Almost an overdose, really.

A few moments passed by where he stared at the project, and then back to you. Fully expecting Miles to be his usual asshole self, you said, "Spit it out. What is it?" You waved your hand in front of his face. He swatted your hand away and replied, "I ain't gonna hold you, it's a pretty solid project so far."

You raised a brow at him, and suspiciously asked, "Really?" This was the first time he didn't have any retort to say. "Yeah, I think you're great, ma." He said. You cheekily grinned at him as he tried to correct himself, "I meant, great at the project. Yeah. The project." He almost stumbled on his words. He never did that. He was always collected. What was up with him? It was definitely a sudden change, but you weren't complaining.

There was only a small portion of the project left to do by the end of the class, so Miles suggested finishing it at his house.

This time after school, the both of you walked together to his house. As you worked on the project in his room, you noticed he wasn't getting much done. It seemed like he was in his head, whatever goes on in there. As you glanced up, he locked eyes with you. You hadn't a clue what he was thinking.

You originally would've preferred to do the project yourself, but if you had to have a partner, you believed the work should be divided equally. You weren't going to carry the whole project on your back.

"Why're you slacking, Miles? Our time is limited, y'know." "Ion know. Mind's elsewhere." He shrugged. It was subtle, but you noticed his glance travel to your lips. You grinned and took the opportunity to tease, "What, you want a kiss or somethin'?" You said it mainly as a joke. Sure, maybe you liked the way he gave you a challenge everyday. You wouldn't blatantly admit it, but it was refreshing to be with someone that actually cared about their work. But much to your surprise, he ran his hand over the back of his braids and said. "Shi, maybe it would motivate me. You feel me?"

Not expecting him to agree, you said, "I mean, alright. If you get off your ass, maybe I'll give you one." You tried to say as casually as you could. But you couldn't deny the fact that you were growing fond of him. You were internally conflicted as you wanted to hate him, but couldn't. In reality, it was far from hate.

Miles couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment his detest for you faded away and was replaced with something different. An emotion he rarely felt. Seeing you singlehandedly take on a guy was only fueling it for him. He quickly started working harder on his part. You mentally praised yourself. After a few silent moments, he spoke up, "Yo, I'm basically finished."

He was bullshitting, and you knew it. As you looked at his part of the project, he still had a good chunk to finish. But you caved and moved closer to him. Holding a hand to his face, you peppered a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, just barely avoiding his mouth.

As usual, he had something to say, "Don't play, mami." He resisted the urge to press his lips to yours until they were numb. You simply smiled at him and replied, "Yeah? Keep workin' and you'll earn a real one."

Immediately, Miles got right back to working on his part of the project without another complaint. You've never seen him work so studiously.

Pleased to say, with your motivation, Miles was more productive that day than all the other days combined.

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

taglist! please lmk if u want to be added 🫶

@l5byrinth @iamspooderman

[mypoisonedvine]

tommy with a housewife kink, please??? I love your writing so much!!!

me? writing FLUFF??? inconceivable. ... still made it horny tho

warnings: SMUT 18+ only, fingering, housewife kink (duh), messy kitchen shenanigans

You'd almost forgotten about the weight of his stare on you, you were so focused on your work. Rolling out the dough as evenly as possible, you wiped a bit of sweat off your brow with the back of your hand-- since your fingers were still covered in flour.

"I think I could watch you do this forever," Tommy said suddenly, breaking you out of your concentration, and you laughed self-consciously through your nose when you saw the proud smirk on his full lips.

"What, baking?"

"That too," he said as he got up from the chair and walked closer to you. "But I meant all of it-- cooking, cleaning, homemaking..."

He smiled wider as he reached for you and rubbed your arms soothingly as you took a moment to relax during all the work of baking.

"Just generally doing all the things you do to be Mrs. Shelby," he added, making you bite your lip and blink up at him.

"How about you help your wife then, Mr. Shelby?" you suggested just before he tilted your chin back and gave you a slow, soft kiss.

You'd forgotten the question already when he answered it, a gentle mumble against your lips: "Alright."

Pulling back, he turned to the amorphous shape of rolled-out dough on the counter, beginning to roll up his sleeves.

"How can I help, then?" he asked.

"Well, maybe you could help me spread the butter?" you offered.

"I think I can manage that," he announced smugly-- but he ended up giving in less than ten minutes later, groaning as he stepped back from the counter. "I'm not much good at this," he noticed with a frown.

"No, Tommy, you're doing great," you promised, "I like having the help..."

"But look how pretty yours are," he laughed, "and look at mine. Fucked up little things--"

"Tommy, they look fine," you insisted, but you were laughing too-- and yes, the rolls he'd made were... less uniform than yours... and more than a bit lopsided. But you just appreciated that he was trying!

"I think I have other talents to help my wife," he decided as he wiped his hands; and before you could ask what he meant, he stepped up behind you while you were still working, holding your waist as he started to kiss your neck. You hummed and shut your eyes. "Like helping her relax when she works so hard..."

"Tommy," you gasped as his hands started to lift your dress and apron, "at least let me put these in the oven first..."

"Shh, you can keep going," he offered, reaching under the layers of fabric to pet your legs with a low purr, "I just need to touch you-- just need to make Mrs. Shelby feel good, can I do that?"

You whimpered as his hand slipped around in front of your hips, cupping you where you needed him most.

"Think it's my right, isn't it?" he continued, reaching into your panties to carefully rub your clit; your thighs clenched together, and you accidentally almost squished the roll in your hand as it flexed into a sudden fist. "Think it's my responsibility, no? Shouldn't a husband pleasure his wife?"

"You do," you hummed, "oh, Tommy-- you do, you make me feel so good..."

He slipped two fingers inside you suddenly, making you reach back with a little yelp of joy to grab instinctively at Tommy's shirt-- only to let go when you remembered your hands were covered in flour and butter. "O-oh, dear-- let me wash that before it stains--"

"Shh," he cooed, grinning as he shook his head while he buried it in the crook of your neck. "Doesn't matter, love-- you need to stop worrying so much."

But you knew just as well as he did that he adored the way you worried-- the way you took care of everything, most of all him. So, even though the back of your mind raced with all your wifely anxieties about getting these rolls in the oven and washing his shirt and all the other chores that needed to be done tonight, you relaxed back into Tommy's arms with a sigh, deciding to let your husband take care of you in return.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Little Girl Gone

So I Heard You're Back in Town (1)

Mob Boss!Natasha x Mob Boss!Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Mob Boss!Fem!Reader

warnings: 18+ Violent themes, Guns, mentions of killing, mentions of thr*wing up, smoking, Dark Natasha word count: 2231 a/n: Wrote this first chapter over the course of a day. It is proofread, but I am only human~

“Shoot him.” Her voice didn’t waver. It was demanding as she stood tall behind you, casting a shadow over you. Your hand shook with the revolver in your hand. “Y/N. Shoot him.” Her hand on your shoulder in a death grip.

“Shoot him.” Her voice didn’t waver. It was demanding as she stood tall behind you, casting a shadow over you. Your hand shook with the revolver in your hand. “Y/N. Shoot him.” Her hand on your shoulder in a death grip.

You slowly, shakily pulled back on the trigger until the loud BANG reverberated. The body in front of you thudding to the ground, a pool of blood forming. The smell of metal and sulfur fill your nose as bile rises from your stomach.

Dropping the gun as you stumble away. You don’t make it far before the bile finds it’s way in your mouth as you clutch your ribs as your throat burns and ears ring out. You weren’t made for this, but she kept saying you were. Her hand on your back, rubbing soothingly. “Such a good little girl Y/N.” She assures you that it took less convincing this time and you didn’t get sick until after killing them this time.

You push her hand away as you stumble away. “I don’t need your praises Natasha.” You grumble wiping your mouth and head back upstairs to your room. The one you share with Natasha the head of the Russian mob around here.

You keep saying you’re going to leave. Get out of here, but if she caught you, you’d be on the other end of her gun so you wait and plan. Get everything in order before leaving in the middle of the night. Leaving behind not only Natasha, but the city for a long time.

=================================================

5 years later

BANG! You didn’t give them a chance to try and explain as the other two men beneath you try to scramble backwards. Placing the gun back in it’s holster you grab both of them, “Where do you two think you’re going?” Both of them trying to get out of your hold only for you to grip tighter. “I still have questions for you two and I suggest you answer them.”

“A-anything! We’ll tell you anything you want!” One of them managed out. A smirk crossing your face.

“Good boy. Now tell me. Where is Natasha Romanoff?” You voice and eyes go icy it’s a question, sure, but it’s also a demand.

A snap of your fingers and your right hand woman, Carol, comes over. Taking out the two men once they’ve given you the information you required.

You walk over to two girls, recent additions, Kamala Khan and America Chavez. “Girls I need you to follow up on the information we were just given and please be careful. Natasha is ruthless. Stay a good distance and if you spot her at all contact me immediately. Am I understood?” You look between the two of them. Kamala a smile on her face.

“Yes Ma’am! We won’t let you down.” You smile, ruffling their hair before seeing them off. You too could be ruthless with outsiders and that was all thanks to Natasha unfortunately, but the heart you had before wasn’t gone. Not one bit, just buried a lot further. You still taste bile, but it no longer comes up.

“Carol when you’re done here meet me back at the house with the others.” You let her know as she starts disposing of the bodies.

“You got it boss.”

=================================================

You’re lounging when the text comes through,

“Boss we’ve got a surprise for you!” It was from Kamala.

“What is it?”

“One of Natasha’s.” Your heart dropped.

“Bring them here. Now.”

Another twenty minutes goes by before Kamala and America are bringing in a girl who looks not much older than them. They were smart enough to blindfold her at least. They bring her over to you and set her on her knees in front of you.

Even without seeing her eyes you can tell she’s terrified. Leaning over you take the blindfold off, green eyes almost matching Natasha’s and red hair.

“Are you Natasha’s sister?” You ask. She shakes her head frantically. “Who are you?” You ask, softly.

“W-Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” The name didn’t ring any bells. You study her face and the genuine terror that fills it.

“I’m not going to hurt you Wanda. Are you one of Natasha’s?” You lean back against the couch, keeping one hand in your lap the other stretching the back of the couch. She shakes her head and you eye Kamala. Who throws her hands up defensively.

“S-she offered me a loan...I’m a single mom I have twin boys and when I couldn’t pay her back she took me and told me I’d work for her, but...but...” Wanda started to cry and you leaned back over gently cupping her cheek, wiping her tears away as you shush her gently.

“I was once were you were. Natasha took me, changed me. I won’t let her do that to you. We’re gonna pay back that loan of yours. You’re under my protection now, understood?” She nods frantically. “I don’t want anything in return except to see you happy with your boys. I won’t let her hurt you or them.”

“T-thank you...thank you...” You kept your composure around Wanda. Leaving her for a moment to discuss with Carol what was going on.

“I’m going to stay with her, make sure Natasha or her people don’t get close.” You tell Carol who wants to disagree, you can see it in her eyes. “You’re in charge until I get back from this.” Her attitude changes after those words. “If you do anything I wouldn’t then you’ll be digging your own grave and laying in it.” I tell her with no emotion to give as she gulp's, eyes widening.

“Yes Ma’am.”

=================================================

When you arrive at Wanda’s house the two of you entering are met with her boys running down the hall to meet her both hugging her tightly. Then another face comes around the corner and your hand is on your gun in an instant, Wanda holding a hand out to you.

“Y/N. This is Darcy. My friend and she was watching the boys while I was at work.” Wanda informs you, you loosen up, plastering a smile to your face.

“Hello Darcy. It’s nice to meet you.” You hold out your hand for Darcy who hesitantly takes it.

“I met Y/N through work and I invited her over for some coffee and cookies.” Wanda lies and you have to admit it isn’t half bad. She doesn’t give away an telltale signs of lying.

“Okay. Do you need me to stay?” Darcy asks.

“No. Sweet girl you’ve done enough. You watched them almost all day so thank you. Go rest. Please.” Wanda hugs Darcy tightly before the girl leaves.

Wanda makes her way to the kitchen and you hear her start up the coffee pot. Oh maybe she wasn’t lying about the coffee and cookies.

You look around the house. The boys are in the living room, playing video games and remind you of yourself when you were younger. A smile on your face before carrying on through the house, checking all windows and entry points. You look out the back door, checking the perimeter of the backyard when Wanda comes up behind you.

“I don’t mean this in any offensive way, but will you be enough?” She asks and you can’t help, but chuckle, looking over at the mom you’ve found yourself protecting from your ex.

“Natasha was the one who trained me. I know all the tricks she has, but I’ve learned more tricks after I left her. She doesn’t know what I’m capable of anymore. So don’t worry. I’ll be all you need.” You smile at the redhead, a soft smile belying just what you’re capable of.

“Well thank you and I do have coffee and cookies. Homemade of course.” Wanda smiles, her nose wrinkling up as she does so.

“How could I say no?” You follow her to the kitchen island, sitting down while she stands across from you. Conversation flowing between you as the boys make their way out at some point asking if they could have some cookies and ice cream so they could make ice cream sandwiches. Wanda allows it and as she grabs the bowls and ice cream the boys bring their attention to you.

You give the two boys a small smile. “How do you know our mom?” Little interrogators.

“We met at work.” I tell them.

“How long have you worked together?”

“Long enough.”

“What are your intentions with our mom?” You almost choke on the cookie you were swallowing at that question.

“Tommy!” Wanda shriek's at her son. “Enough questions. Unless you don’t want cookies and ice cream?” Wanda walks over with the bowls.

“Sorry mom...” Wanda gives a cheeky grin pulling her son in, giving him a kiss on top of his head.

“I know you’re just trying to protect me, but I’m your mom. I protect you and your brother.” Wanda pulls her other son, Billy, you had learned was his name. Hugging both of them before getting the ice cream and cookies, sending them back off to the living room.

“I’m sorry about that.” Wanda apologizes and you can see the faint blush on her cheeks.

“No need. They obviously care and worry about their mother so I’m glad that I’m here. I won’t allow Natasha to break you guys apart.” You tell her, sipping on her coffee, your eyes flicking over to her and you can see the wetness in her eyes. She wants to cry, but won’t allow herself right now. She shakes her head, dismissing the tears from her eyes.

“So will you be staying? We have a guest room.”

“I will, but I probably won’t sleep.” Wanda nods in response.

“Well you can always stay in the living room?”

“I’ll need to be close to you. If they come here. They’ll come for you.” You remind her and a tint of red finds it’s way to her cheeks once again.

“Y-you can stay in my room then?” She offers and you smile with a nod.

=================================================

“Are you sure you won’t sleep or change at least?” You were still dressed in a suit from work. You’d taken off your jacket, tie and vest.

“I need to be ready if she sends anyone.” You sit on the bed next to Wanda, cupping her cheek. “I promise I won’t let her do what she did to me.”

“You keep saying that, but you still seem to have a lot of humanity to you.” A small, dry chuckle leaves you.

“I didn’t let her, but I can be rather ruthless when it comes to protecting those I love and care about. You just haven’t seen it.” You look into her eyes and she’s searching yours as if they’ll answer her questions that go unspoken. “Get some rest Wanda. I’ll be here.” You let your hand slip away as you stand up, moving to the other side of her room. Looking out the window.

Wanda laid back onto the bed, taking longer than usual to sleep, but eventually it came and you smiled at her sleeping form.

“I won’t let her touch you.” You whisper before making a round around the house, checking everything once again. It was going to be a long night.

=================================================

You stepped outside for a smoke, letting out a cloud when something caught your eye, just in the corner. You snap your head; gun in hand ready in an instant.

“Come out. Now.” You called and the figure came to the moonlight. Natasha. You didn’t falter though it being her threw you off and not Yelena or Kate or even Clint.

“You and I both know you won’t shoot.” Natasha says in a condescending manner. Your eyes narrow at her,

“You’re right I won’t, but not for the reason you’re assuming. I don’t want to wake up and scare the boys.” She laughs at your remark.

“Oh you’re funny Y/N. We both know you’ve never had the stomach. That’s why you ran away little girl.” You tilt your head to the side, neck cracking.

“That little girl’s gone. Honey I’ve changed so much since you last saw me.” She takes a few steps towards you.

“I think you’re in a little too deep sweetie, don’t you?” She says, but stops when you hold out the cash. “What’s that?”

“This is half of what Wanda owes you. You’re going to leave here right now with it and tomorrow I’ll give you the rest with interest and you’ll leave her alone. No more innocent lives need to ruined because of you Tasha.” She takes the money counting through it and laughs.

“You haven’t changed.” She said before turning on her heel. “Tomorrow. Noon. Our usual spot.” Once she was gone you could breath a sigh of relief as you headed back inside.

Softly carrying your tired body up the stairs. Stopping to check on the boys first before slipping into Wanda’s room. You slipped out of your pants and unbuttoned your top leaving you in just a tank top and panties.

You hadn’t shared a bed with someone since Natasha. You find yourself hesitating a moment before slipping in keeping as close to the edge with your gun just under the pillow. Wanda either had a really comfortable bed or you were just that exhausted because sleep took you almost instantly.

[jjksblackgf]

cherry flavored | jjk (m)

pairing — jeon jungkook x reader summary — You bet with your boyfriend that he can't handle more than five minutes of your tongue, but Jungkook never turns away from a challenge. You'll make sure to keep him in his place. genre — smut, pwp, established relationship rate — 18+ word count — 1.6k warnings — explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating.

The empty bottles of wine filled the center of the dining table, and the cheese platter was almost gone. Jungkook, with an arm around your shoulder, sat by your side at the dinner table, and your friend group filled the rest of the seats.

The laughter surrounded the apartment, and your friends filled you with joy.

“Can I help you clean up?” One friend asked you, and through her eyes, you could see she needed to talk.

“Sure thing,” you agreed. She asked your friend Alicia to join you in the kitchen before she started to talk.

“Guy, I need your help,” she said, nervous.

“Shoot,” you prompted.

“I’m dating this guy, and he’s got the biggest stamina ever!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know what to do. I need to get some sleep,” she finished whispering. You had to giggle at that.

“What is your dating life?” Alicia asked her, finishing the last of her wine. “The last guy didn’t know how to make you cum, and now this?”

“Everything in excess is bad for you, you know.”

“You need to control the situation,” you said. “Get him as hard as he can and only let him finish once you’re satisfied. That’s how I do it with Jungkook. Less than five minutes of blowjob and he’s done for. I usually do that when I want to speed things up.”

“Excuse me?” Jungkook appeared in the kitchen with some more plates for the dishwasher. 

“Did you figure out what they are talking about?” Jeremy, your coworker, butted in the conversation, walking into the kitchen too. 

“This one right here,” Jungkook said pointing to you, “just said that sometimes things need speeding up,” he said, frantic. 

“What things?” Jeremy asked.

“In the boudoir,” Alicia clarified.

“Oh, my man!” Jeremy shouted, hugging Jungkook sideways. “Be my personal trainer, man. I need that stamina,” Jeremy slurred his words and the girls giggled. 

“That’s rich coming from you, since you can’t take your hands off me,” Jungkook said. His face was full of emotion. Betrayal and cockiness were the most prominent.

“I can too,” you countered. Your friends just stood there, turning their heads from you to Jungkook and back.

“Alright, prove it. We’ll clock it. Whoever lasts longer wins.”

“You’re being such a virgo now,” Alicia commented.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. And with that, you shook hands. 

Even though your friends were fully entertained, they had to leave eventually. Jeremy wished Jungkook good luck, and he rolled his eyes. The dishes were clean, the wine stained tablecloth was in the washer, and you were done.

“High five for the cleaning crew,” Jungkook said, already offering both of his hands. You complied, and he used the opportunity to pull you to his chest and kiss your lips. “Shout out to us.”

“Shout out to us,” you agreed, pecking his lips.

“Want to go to the boudoir?” He asked, mocking Alicia’s tone. “I want to set a record from the jump.” You had to roll your eyes at that. “I promise I won’t gloat.”

“Let’s see how you perform,” you challenged.

You woke up after a blissful night, still riding the high of an orgasm before a good night’s sleep. 6 minutes and 12 seconds. You were ashamed. If you were to guess, you’d say at least 10 minutes. But he’s good. Really good. With a tongue of the gods.

Jungkook shifted in his bed, stretching loudly and with a sinful smile. He woke up feeling himself. He didn’t gloat with his words, but his expression alone had you fuming. You had to beat him. You’d have to pull out the big guns. To the drug store you went.

The day passed quickly, and in the late afternoon you came back from work ready to rock his world. You entered the bedroom and heard Jungkook turning off the shower. That was good, less clothes to take off. He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips and one drying his hair. His hair… His wet hair… It had you drooling. But you had a job to do.

“Wow, look at those pecs,” You said, sitting in the bed. You had the most fantastic view of his body. The light of the sunshine hit the droplets of water that were traveling through his torso just right. Mouthwatering. 

“Like what you see?” Jungkook said, wiggling his eyebrows and flexing his abs slightly. He walked closer to peck your lips. You used this moment to run your hand through his hair and hum in appreciation. Jungkook was really feeling himself now, smirking through the kiss.

Perfect time to enact your three step plan.

Step one, flatter his ego.

Step two, engage his competitiveness.

Step three, win

“You have somewhere to go?” you asked, holding his arm before he could go get dressed.

“Not tonight. Why? Feeling inspired?” he asked, jokingly stroking his abs, drying a few water droplets with the tip of his fingers.

“Actually, yes. I’m feeling pretty lucky to have left my end of the bet for tonight. You look so hot with water dripping on you like this,” you said, ogling his body and biting your lower lip. He gave you a breathy laugh.

“Say more words like that.”

“I’m ready to admit defeat. I just want to cherish you all night long,” you whispered. Wait for it…

“Wrong turn. I have the stop watch ready to go.” Bingo. “I am nothing if not a man of my word.”

“I guess that’s fine by me, too.”

“Where do you want to do the honors?” he asked, and you patted the bed, pulling him closer. He sat down, and you pushed his shoulders back, he fell down on the mattress and you straddled his lap with confidence.

“Bossy. I like it.”

“I can tell” you said, feeling his cock getting harder against your jeans. He was so easy. But getting him hard wasn’t difficult, getting him off on the other hand… But you had a good plan.

“Ready?” he asked and you pulled out flavored condoms out of your pocket.

“Yes, sir!”

“Condoms? I’m clean,” he joked, and you rolled your eyes.

“They’re part of the experience.”

“Condoms!?” he asked louder. “The things known to delay sensation of all mankind?”

“Not when I suck the flavors off them, they don’t.”

“Flavors?” he asked, and his eyebrows shot up.

“Get the watch going,” you smirked. He took a deep breath and pulled out the stopwatch.

“You’re on,” he said, pressing the top button.

You kissed his neck first, taking advantage of his position, and he closed his eyes. Maybe concentrating on not cumming, maybe enjoying the experience, maybe both. You grinded your crotch against his, and you noticed his breath get faster. 

You trailed kisses down his torso, savoring the many water droplets. You got off the bed and removed the towel easily. You opened the first condom, putting it perfectly. You saw Jungkook’s eyes shot open, and you knew he was curious about your methods.

“Which one is that?” he asked, trying not to sound so interested.

“Mint.”

“Refreshing,” he commented. He physically prepared himself, balling his hands into fists and taking a deep breath.

You had this, though. You used all of the pressure of your cheeks, wrapping your lips around him completely and bobbed your head slowly. You caressed his inner thigh in the process. Not much composed, Jungkook groaned and hissed, and you could see he was doing his best not to cum.

The flavor was gone in about two minutes, and Jungkook sighed in relief when it was time to change it. He ran his palm through his face, taking another deep breath, but you still hadn’t pulled out all of the tricks up your sleeve.

“Time for cherry,” you sang. Your secret weapon. Jungkook loved all things cherry flavored. The fruit, pies, jam, chapstick… So when his head shot up, and his eyes were about to jump out of their sockets, you knew you made the right choice.

You didn’t give him time to fully process it, your mouth engulfed him again, as deep as it could go. You made sure to use your gag reflex to your advantage, closing your throat around his tip, and retrieving it with a loud pop. The saliva trail left behind left you moaning his name.

“Jungkook, I want to taste you, baby,” you said seductively, and he whimpered, closing his eyes shut.

And you continued with your technique, ruthless.

One more.

Two.

Three.

When your lips wrapped around him for a fourth time, he pressured against the back of your head to keep you there. Your throat closed around him once more, and with a final grunt, he released you.

He panted hard, and you quickly grabbed the stopwatch, pressing the top button to mark your time. 5 minutes, 53 seconds.

He did last five minutes after all, just not longer than you.

“You played dirty,” Jungkook accused, seeing your inappropriate smile.

“Dirty is my middle name.”

Your friends were once more gathered around your dinner table. Jungkook was refreshing people’s drinks while you served the desserts. Cherry pie.

“How’s things with what’s-his-name?” you asked your friend, not bothering to remember his name.

“I took your advice to edge him, and it worked like a charm. But it’s not going to work, he’s too needy now,” she answered.

“Go figure,” Alicia commented.

“Hey, how was the bet by the way?” Jeremy inquired.

“Mind your business, Jeremy” Jungkook said, and the table erupted in laughter.

“How long?” Jeremy pressed.

“I lasted 20 seconds longer,” you gloated.

“Score!” Jeremy high fived you, and Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“I thought you promised not to share.”

“I promised no such thing.”

[ckret2]

Chapter 58 of human Bill Cipher in a quantum uncertainty state between being and not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner:

Everything you've wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

Let's rewind a couple of days.

####

Friday, 11:00 p.m.

"Welp," Mabel said, "I've got the rest of summer to try to get the whole story out of him! Goodnight, Dipper!"

Dipper's stomach flipped with guilt. "Yeah." The rest of summer. Mabel left for Portland in the morning. "Goodnight."

He lay down, pulled his sheet back up, and stared at the ceiling.

####

Friday, 11:04 p.m.

It took less than five minutes before the guilt won.

Yeah, no, nope, nuh-uh, Dipper couldn't do this. Not to his sister. He rolled over and hissed, "Psss, hey. Mabel."

"Hm?"

"Listen," Dipper said. "I hate Bill, okay, but I care about you, and also I think Bill might be part of a prophecy, so, because of that—I... There's something I need to tell you."

####

11:15 p.m.

Bill hadn't even had time to start dreaming before something dragged his mind back into the waking world.

There were white points of light as he passed through the hazy twilight of half-sleep. Those lights were his eyes. Lately, every time he started to wake up, he'd been seeing his eyes in the distance.

This time, there was one right in front of him, so bright it almost blinded him. He thought he could see something in the light.

He touched it.

And then he woke up, laying on his cushion bed as usual, watching as Mabel slid out of her room, crept near, and knelt beside him. She shook his shoulder. "Hey, Bill. Wake up."

And then he woke up—which was strange, considering he'd just done that—and stared at the dark inside of his hoodie.

He pushed back his hood. There was Mabel, crouched next to him, just like he'd "dreamed." Huh. Well done, Cipher, it seems you've just learned a new trick.

He tamped down his excitement; he could figure out what to do with this trick later. For now, he had a higher priority. "'Sup, kid?" He pushed himself up on an elbow, roughly flipping his hair out of his hood so it wouldn't keep tickling and choking around his neck. "It's the middle of the night." He yawned and mumbled, "Not that it makes a difference to me, but..."

"Shhh! We've gotta stay quiet," Mabel whispered. "I need to get you out of here. They're gonna kill you."

He sat bolt upright. "All right," he said. "You have my attention."

####

Dipper refused to say how, but according to him they'd synthesized just enough fuel for one shot with their fancy quantum whatever gun, and they couldn't make any more. They planned to execute Bill once Mabel was gone.

Mabel could just open a door for Bill and let him escape in the middle of the night—but that had dangers of its own. Bill would have to travel to a hiding place on foot—and his shoes were crap for hiking—his feet were also crap for hiking—and he'd only have until the adults started waking up and realized he was gone. Even if he kept moving all night, the adults would probably be able to cover the same amount of ground in a couple of hours, he'd probably inadvertently leave a trail a mile wide, and the forest's local supernatural population would definitely snitch if one of the Stans asked if they'd seen anything.

Plus, it wouldn't be very hard for the adults to figure out that Dipper had cracked and Mabel had helped Bill escape, and then everyone was in hot water.

They needed a way to cover Bill's escape to make it harder for the adults to pick up his trail, to give him as much time as possible to get some distance from the shack, and to delay Mabel getting in trouble. ("And Dipper," Mabel said. "Sure," Bill said unenthusiastically.)

But if they could, it would be best if they found a way to ensure the adults never even thought to look for Bill, Mabel never got in trouble at all, and the Quantum Destabilizer could never be fired again.

It was possible, Bill said. It wasn't guaranteed, but it was possible. They had a good chance. A very good chance. In fact, never mind, he'd decided it was guaranteed, they'd pull this off easily.

All they had to do was fake his death.

He knew a way.

####

11:45 p.m.

Dipper was stirred out of a drowsy near-sleep by the door creaking open and a couple sets of footsteps shuffling in. He rolled over and squinted across the room.

Mabel was quietly collecting craft supplies—pens, papers, her small starter sewing kit she used for repairs. Bill climbed into the loft to grab some musty pillows and blankets that had been stored for years in a cardboard box.

"Mabel?" Dipper mumbled.

Mabel put a finger over her lips. "Hey Dipper," she whispered. "You can go back to sleep, we'll be up in the loft."

"Doing what?"

"Scheme-y stuff. Don't worry about it." She flung her arms around Dipper, whispered, "Thank you," and ran across the room to grab her backpack and the height-altering flashlight.

Dipper glanced toward the loft. Bill was waiting at the top of the ladder, a dark vaguely-triangular silhouette, only his eyes visible as they reflected the dim light like a cat's. Dipper had had more nightmares than he could remember about waking to find Bill hovering in the dark above him.

Bill's gaze flicked from watching Mabel to staring at Dipper. They made eye contact. Bill didn't say anything.

Then Mabel climbed up the ladder, supply-stuffed backpack slung over her shoulders. Bill gave Dipper one last silent look, then turned away to follow Mabel to the back of the loft.

Dipper rolled over and tried to fall back asleep.

####

The plan was to create a dummy that looked like Bill to take the Quantum Destabilizer's shot in his place, while the real Bill got as far from the shack as the weirdness barrier around town would allow.

Bill told Mabel that the dummy didn't need to be complicated: he had an enchantment that could make it completely convincing. All he had to do was write out a spell and leave the paper over the dummy, and anyone who looked at it would be convinced it was really him in the flesh.

Similarly, sneaking Bill out of the shack didn't need to be complicated. They could shrink Bill down and stick him in Mabel's backpack, and all she'd have to do was come up with an excuse to get out of the car and set him free before they left town. 

The hard part would be the choreography of the whole thing. They needed Bill to put in an appearance that morning, to prove it really was him walking around; and then go somewhere that Mabel could hide him away without anybody noticing; and then ensure that nobody would see the Bill dummy until they were safely out of range, just in case. "The enchantment's pretty good," Bill said, "but the more people see it and the longer they get to look at it, the less potent it gets. And all it'll do is make the dummy look like me—it won't be able to walk and talk. It's best if the only person who gets a good look at it is my executioner."

The word executioner made Mabel shudder. It would probably be Ford, wouldn't it? She knew he thought he was doing the right thing. She knew it wasn't the first time he'd tried to destroy Bill. She knew she'd been fine with it last summer. She even knew that Bill would be okay. But all the same, she wasn't sure how she'd look at Ford the same way.

Once they had the dummy set up somewhere away from the family's prying eyes, they had to discourage everyone from trying to approach "Bill" until they were ready to kill him. And, ideally—just in case the executioner tried to speak to Bill or the enchantment otherwise failed—they should stage it all in a way so that no one would think Mabel had been involved in the escape plan.

The solution was obvious.

"I live to cause drama for no reason," Bill said. "I upset mortals recreationally. Can you act?"

"Can I act? Pshhh!" Mabel flipped a hand dismissively. "Maybe you were too busy badly impersonating my brother to watch, but last year I kind of staged an entire puppet show performing and singing as every character."

So it was a plan: they would stage a fight.

They were sitting in the very back of the attic loft, behind stacks of forgotten boxes and abandoned junk, beneath the meager light of the loft's window. Bill didn't need the light. He had a pen and paper and was writing out his enchantment's spell while they talked, long lines of inscrutable text. It was so dark that Mabel couldn't even see what language he was writing in, but that was fine; Bill had said that if she read his spell—if anyone read it—it would break the enchantment.

"Whoops," Bill said, "yeah, afraid I missed your whole show! I was too busy backstage trying to avoid your friends and looking for a way onto the catwalk."

Mabel shook her head in disapproval. "You would have liked it. There were live pyrotechnics and lasers and fog machines and a giant tentacle monster war and seventy-four songs and puppets!"

"I'll admit, sounds like a killer show. How about gore?"

"There was a whole song about my love interest getting his legs chewed off in the war," Mabel said. "The sock puppets don't have legs, but everyone knows your own imagination is a lot scarier than anything you actually see."

This kid could have a brilliant artistic career as a serial killer. "That's familiar. Is this war based on that 'cats versus the giant octopus' dream you keep having?"

"Yeah, and you'd have known that if you'd actually watched the opera! Too bad you missed the whole thing," Mabel said. "I guess you were just too busy being evil to appreciate the simple joys of a good, clean, non-villainous puppet show."

"Oh no, I can't believe my actions have consequences," Bill said flatly. "What would I ever have done if you hadn't enlightened me."

"Died, probably."

Bill glared.

"You know! Like you did last summer? As a consequence of your—"

"You shush."

Bill shoved Mabel away when she started to laugh, and held the enchantment up between their faces so he didn't have to look at her. He read his work over, then folded the paper in half and half again. "Hey, maybe you can put on an encore presentation sometime." Bill carefully inscribed four symbols in a square on the folded paper. "I promise I'll laugh at the jokes and fake cry at the sad parts."

Mabel shuddered. "No way. I'm never touching that show again. Too many bad memories."

"Awww, how come?"

Mabel stared at Bill.

Bill said, "Oh, right."

"Yeah," Mabel said coldly. "Thanks."

Bill shrank back. He leaned against a cardboard box, not sure where to look, drumming his fingers self consciously on the floorboards. Trying to figure out the right thing to say to make it better.

"Hey," he said. "If you ever change your mind about reviving the show... can I play the reverend again?" He grinned.

Mabel wadded up a paper and chucked it at Bill's face.

####

They agreed that scripting out every bit of the argument would make it sound too fakey; and anyway they were going to do this on no sleep and with no time to practice, if one of them forgot a line mid-argument it would ruin their entire plan. Bill said he was great at improvisational acting (which Mabel suspected was his way of trying to make "great at lying on the spot" sound good), and Mabel was a pro at getting into character for pretend games, so this should be easy. They just needed to choose a few topics they could realistically argue about.

So they started making a list of things that would totally infuriate each other.

"I can't think of anything that would make me furious," Bill said. "Outside of something serious like a murder attempt, anyway. I'm an even-tempered triangle! I don't sweat the small things!"

"You got sooo mad when I forgot to tell you about my Summerween plans."

Bill grimaced. "Right," he muttered. "That." 

Teasingly, Mabel asked, "Are you still grumpy I made plans?"

"I was not grumpy you made plans. I wasn't grumpy at all! I just would have appreciated if I'd known sooner, I planned my whole evening assuming I'd have somebody around to open doors—"

He saw Mabel's increasingly amused smirk, stopped himself, held up a hand, and said, "I'll save it for tomorrow morning."

Mabel wrote down the idea beneath four ideas she'd already scratched out. She'd temporarily removed the crystal from the height-altering flashlight so she could illuminate her paper while she wrote. "The concert will definitely come up tomorrow morning! And you can act like that's the first time you heard about it."

"Sure, no problem. We haven't talked about the concert where your uncles could overhear, have we?"

"I don't think so."

"Then that's perfect. I can pretend to be mad you didn't tell me." Bill forced a smile. "All right, your turn." He rested his elbow on his knee and his cheek on his fist. "I realize that, apart from the unfortunate meat suit, I'm the most flawless person you've ever seen—" he ignored Mabel's raspberry, "—but for the sake of argument, just imagine something you might get mad at me for."

"Um... insulting Dipper?"

"Now that sounds fun. But no, can't risk it, he'd be too tempted to jump into the argument," Bill said. "Besides, what if I said something you agreed with?"

"What! Why would I agree if you insulted my brother?"

"He smells like a sweaty ferret and when he has a crush he turns into a creepy little stalker."

Mabel laughed. "Yeah, he does. Okay, um..." She went silent for a moment, tapping the butt of her marker on the paper. 

She stopped tapping; and then quietly said, "I'd be so mad if I thought you were trying to keep me from hanging out with my friends."

"Oh, I could do that easily." Bill reviewed his wording, decided a human could take that as a threat, and quickly amended himself, "Could pretend that I'm trying to do that easily. You know I'd never, but hey, the adults here are ready to believe the worst about me—"

"You promise?"

"Sure I promise!" He processed the question after he'd already answered it. "Hold on—you think I'm the kind of person who would do that?" He was, but he didn't want her to see him that way.

She shrugged, looking down at her idea list again. "You've done it to other people."

"Name one!"

"Grunkle Ford and Old Man McGucket."

Oh, of course. That snitch of a backstabbing ungrateful ex-student, bane of Bill's entire miserable postmortem existence. Had to find as many ways as possible to make Bill look bad, didn't he. "All I did was tell Stanford that hick was a coward and a flake. I didn't make him do anything! If he agreed with me, that's on him." Bill crossed his arms irritably. "And Specs was a coward and a flake. Is it a crime to be right?"

"But you ruined their friendship on purpose, didn't you."

Bill tried to find a graceful way to wriggle around the direct accusation that excused his actions without contradicting whatever she might already know. "Did not," he said.

Mabel frowned at him.

Bill averted his gaze. "So! That's great. Trying to keep you away from your friends. Something I've never done to you but would be a really good thing to fight about. What else."

Mabel sighed and looked over her list again. She wrote something, scratched it out; started another line and scribbled it out; and then said in exasperation, "Your morals are terrible."

Bill had to clap a hand over his mouth to keep his sudden laugh from waking Dipper. "You've got too many morals, it's your biggest character flaw. How many does one person really need, two or three? That's an easy topic, arguments about morality can drag out for hours!"

"We probably only need to fight for like ten minutes, right?"

"Sure. List done! That's everything we need."

Mabel heaved a sigh of relief. She read over the list, glanced at the flashlight she was reading with, and said, "I should get extra batteries. It'd be the worst if we got you way out of the shack and then the batteries died while you were still small."

Bill wasn't sure about that. Being so tall for weeks on end felt awkward and wrong. His limbs were always in the way. He bumped into things he should have been able to slide between. The more time he spent in this body, the more he wanted to spend a month at the size and thickness of a greeting card. He joked, "Hey, I don't know; it'd be easier to hide..."

"Yeah, and easier to get squarshed." Mabel turned off the flashlight and picked up her backpack. "I'm getting batteries."

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill picked up her list to see what topics they'd found to argue about so far:

Weirdmaged

Making me think you were Blendin to get the

Kitten fists meow meow

Almost killing me

Not sharing Summerween plans

Trying to make me kill myself by

Ruining Glove Story

Insulting Dipper

Insulting Waddles??? (too lovable!)

Weirdm

Mabeland Isolating me from everyone

Spray painting your eyeball

Weir YOU'RE TOO EVIL!!

I'M TOO NICE!!! ♡

He reread the list, feeling his guts writhe and twist involuntarily.

Yeah. Those were all the things he'd decided not to bring up, too.

At least they were in agreement on what they didn't want to talk about. That was true friendship, right? Friendship didn't mean never hurting each other; it meant mutually agreeing never to talk about it again.

He read the list a third time.

####

A spare pair of Bill's black leggings and a pair of black socks would serve as half of the decoy body, stuffed with old bedsheets and half a pillow that Mabel had sized up with the flashlight so it was closer to Bill's actual torso size. For the time being, the top half of the decoy was constructed out of a flannel shirt; Bill would have to put in an appearance downstairs in his hoodie, and then they could quickly go upstairs and put it on the decoy to complete the look.

He'd miss that hoodie almost as much as he missed his own face. But it was a small price to pay for his life.

"I don't know," Mabel whispered, inspecting the dummy with the flashlight from near the edge of the loft. "It doesn't look super convincing. It's kind of lumpy all wrong." She knelt by it and tried to poke the fake thigh into a slightly more convincing shape.

"Don't worry about it," Bill whispered, waving the folded paper with the secret spell written inside. "The enchantment will hide all that. As long as the dummy looks mostly human at a glance, no one will notice anything."

Mabel gave it one last worried look, but nodded and turned off the flashlight.

####

Mabel crept out of the office and eased the door shut. "Got it," she whispered, holding up a faded black umbrella. "Are you sure you don't want a better umbrella, though? Some of the spikes are broken and I think it's supposed to rain today."

"The other humans will be less likely to notice a broken umbrella going missing," Bill said. "Anyway, this one saved my life once. I'll take it."

"Then that's the last supply we needed to pack," Mabel said, sighing in relief. "It's still a couple hours until morning. Should we get some sleep?"

Bill considered it, and shook his head. "No. Better not."

Sleep scared him. Sure, he endured it when he had to—he had no choice—and, under the circumstances, although it was a close call, he grudgingly preferred sleeping to dying of sleep deprivation; but he kept it at bay as long as he could, sleeping irregularly, infrequently, and briefly. Knowing it was necessary didn't make the fear go away.

It was the helplessness of the whole thing—knowing that, once his mind had shut off, anything could happen around him, anything could happen to his body—and not only was he ignorant and defenseless, but he was also powerless to wake himself up any sooner than his tyrannical circadian rhythm dictated. He lacked even the power to think about waking.

If Mabel hadn't woken him tonight, he might have slept through his own death. 

He continued, "What if we sleep in and don't have time for the fight? I'd be doomed." Bill didn't even have the luxury of an alarm clock.

"Oh—good point," Mabel said. "So we should probably do something to keep us awake."

"Right," Bill said, wracking his exhausted brain for an idea. "Overdose on caffeine?"

Mabel was quiet for a moment. "If this works, it might be a long time before we see each other again," she said. "You'll probably have to keep hiding until Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan leave town in the fall. And by then summer will be over, and I'll be back in California..."

She was right. If they pulled off this plan, he might never see Mabel again. It wouldn't exactly be safe to ring up the Mystery Shack. Sure, sooner or later he'd find a way to restart Weirdmageddon, and then he could invite her into his gang... And she'd join, wouldn't she? Of course she would. He just needed a chance to talk to her about it away from the closed-minded killjoys in her family that were holding her back. But until then...

She groped through the dark to grab at Bill's sleeve. "Dance party? While we still can?"

"Sure, star girl." Where had this lump in his throat come from? "Sounds fun. Dance party."

####

5:30 a.m.

It was the first time Bill had danced since his death.

All Mabel had to offer was Sev'ral Times, upbeat kid's show soundtracks, unlistenable synthesized junk, and whatever was playing before dawn on the radio stations that could reach Gravity Falls; the stained yellow shag carpet and homely plaid wallpaper made him miss the dark smoky rooms and strobing multicolor lights of a real club; he couldn't risk drinking this early in the morning if he wanted to have a head clear enough for escape; and he never forgot that, outside of the living room, the halls were empty and silent.

But he'd danced to music that made his eye bleed and his memories howl and he'd danced to no music at all; he'd danced in millions of crummy makeshift dance halls and night clubs and dive bars that had tumbled into or been cobbled together in the Nightmare Realm; he'd danced when he was so brutally sober that time in all its sharp cruel clarity seemed to have frozen to turn a spotlight on him; he'd danced with his worst enemies and he'd danced all alone; and there wasn't any force on this planet that would stop him from dancing now.

After spending four songs in a row making fun of Bill for attempting to figure out how to puppet a human body into some approximation of a dance, Mabel asked, "What were dances like on Flatworld?" It made Bill internally wince each time he heard it called that.

But he welcomed the opportunity for a break; he leaned back to half sit against the living room table, breathing heavily, arms trembling. "Dif—difficult question." He had to pause to catch his breath. His lungs and muscles couldn't keep up with him; this body was too hard to keep moving, so inefficient, 90% of the fuel that went into it was wasted uselessly. It was already beginning to atrophy in the few short weeks he'd had it, muscles withering from days stuck indoors with nothing to do but sit and stare out the window. He'd been made of pure energy for so long that maintaining all the little systems to keep a flesh body energized—food, water, sleep, exercise, not too much exercise, oxygen—felt like a Sisyphean torture. "S'like asking—'what're human dances like'? There's a—lot of variety."

"You know what I mean!" Mabel was still half dancing, bouncing from foot to foot. Bill wanted that kind of energy. "How do you dance?"

Bill shut his eyes, seeing colors flash behind his eyes—gyroscopic, kaleidoscopic, shapes spinning and whirling in spirals. "I'd show you, but there's not enough room in here for me to do a cartwheel."

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being serious! Plus I can't float. It wouldn't look right in a human body." It would look better if he cut his silhouette out of a piece of paper, taped it over a flashlight, and projected the shape onto the wall. "Tell you what—as soon as I'm back in my real body, I'll show you how I dance, all right?"

"Come on, Bill! You're just trying to wiggle out of—"

"Mabel," Bill said, "I can't do those dances in this body."

Mabel's teasing smile faded. "Really?"

"Unless you know a way to dislocate my shoulder so I can slide my entire arm from one hip over my head and down to the other."

"Ew." Mabel grimaced.

"It looks cooler on a triangle." Bill smiled wanly. "But hey, I spent all day yesterday teaching you everything I know—you can teach me something. I haven't used a human body in thirty years! What dances are popular these days, I haven't learned anything new since the moonwalk."

Mabel's eyes widened. "You know how to moonwalk?"

"Sure! It's easy. I figured it out in Stanford's body."

"I don't believe you. Prove it."

Bill pushed off the table. "Oh, yeah? Are you ready to look stupid?" He effortlessly glided backwards across the floorboards. He pointed at Mabel's gaping face as he passed. "What do you think of that?"

"Show me how to do that and I'll teach you every dance I know."

Bill grinned. He loved deals that were unfairly biased in his favor, and he loved it more when he didn't even have to propose them himself. "You've got yourself a deal, Shooting Star." It would keep them occupied for the next hour.

####

6:32 a.m.

About fifteen minutes ago, Bill had warned Mabel that he'd just glimpsed the beforeimage of Ford crossing the living room in the future; and then they'd kept partying, wanting to get in every last second of joy they could before he arrived in the present.

But once Ford was no longer approaching but actually there, seeing his face was like a bullet to the head. Bill had been having so much fun, for a few minutes he'd almost forgotten that today was execution day. 

And it wouldn't be execution day if he had anything to say about it.

Bill demanded, "What's with the sour face?" (Ford's eyes were so dull, his expression so heavy; Bill had never seen him wear that look, not even any of the previous times he'd tried to murder Bill.) "Hey, am I not allowed to dance now?" He squeezed Mabel's hands tighter.

Ford just gave a tiny shake to his head and hurried past them, not even deigning to look at Bill, as though he were telling himself he'd only imagined he'd heard the voice of a ghost.

I know what you're up to, Bill thought at top volume silently in his head. But you won't do it. You won't do it.

He met Mabel's gaze. She gave him a tiny nod. Party was over. Time to get to work.

####

6:36 a.m.

Over the course of the night, Dipper had been woken twice by bursts of quickly-hushed laughter; three times by random bumps and thuds; once by Bill falling off the loft and Mabel's squeal of alarm; and several times by Mabel waking Dipper to ask if it was okay if she gave Bill Dipper's old shoes (so Bill could finally walk in the woods properly), his sleeping bag (so Bill didn't have to sleep on hard rocks under a single sad Pony Heist bedsheet), his "Edible Plants of Oregon's Blue Mountains" booklet (self-explanatory), and several other things he also said "yes" to without hearing properly. It had better be one heck of a prophecy that Bill was involved in, because Dipper was this close to just murdering Bill himself.

When Dipper went downstairs, he couldn't even look at Mabel and Bill—terrified something in his gaze would give the whole conspiracy away. He didn't even know what they were planning. Was dancing in the living room part of it? Was it some distraction? He'd hoped Bill would already be gone by now.

He couldn't meet Ford's eyes either, for the guilt of betraying his trust. He didn't deserve these scrambled eggs.

He couldn't meet anyone's gaze.

He really, really hoped Mabel and Bill had a plan. He hoped it was a good plan. Because whatever the heck they were up to—Dipper was afraid it was on him to prevent Ford and Stan from intervening too soon and finding out.

####

6:49 a.m.

After they'd escaped the kitchen, Bill glanced over his shoulder toward the stairs before Mabel got the attic door closed. "Do you think Ford noticed something?"

Mabel was already running across the room, retrieving her phone charger and phone to stuff in her backpack and pocket, making sure she'd packed everything she needed for her trip—everything except for Bill. "I wasn't looking. Did he?"

"I don't know." Bill flashed one last worried look at the door; but he couldn't afford to slow down, he had a dummy to finish. He hurried up the ladder, took off his hoodie, pulled on a tank top, tried to fish his pre-written enchantment out of his pocket in the same movement, and fumbled and dropped the paper over the edge of the loft.

Mabel had been checking her bag for the concert tickets when a paper fluttered down on her hair. She instinctively grabbed it and unfolded it before she registered the four sigils written on the outside and realized this was the enchantment Bill had said would stop working if anyone read it. She'd reflexively read the first few lines before she could stop herself. She froze. Her gaze jerked up to Bill, eyes wide.

Bill dropped down the ladder, snatched the paper out of her hand so quickly it almost tore, and immediately climbed back up. "I told you not to look." He carefully refolded it.

"Is that...?"

"It'll work," Bill hissed, with an insistence that said he wasn't sure it would work at all.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" He held up the dummy's pillow torso and yanked the hoodie on top of it.

When Mabel didn't say anything, Bill sighed. "Even if it doesn't—this only needs to work until we're on the road. They can't stop us then."

"Bill—"

He shakily inhaled, and then he raised his voice loud enough he'd be heard downstairs. "What do you need to spend all that time around those two brats for, anyway?! What, am I not good enough company for you?!"

They didn't have time to adjust the plan. They were in the middle of it, right now, and the guys expected to hear an argument. Mabel swallowed hard and raised her voice as well. "Not when you're acting like this, you aren't! You're a bigger brat than—than both of—and my friends aren't brats!"

Bill bit his lip, brows drawn in pain, eye squeezed shut, trying not to laugh.

Mabel chucked a sock at him, don't you dare. "You can't say I can't hang out with my friends, that's stupid!"

"I never said you can't!" Bill held the folded paper a foot above the completed dummy, the square of symbols face up, and tapped it twice so it hovered in place when he let go. "Hang out with your stupid friends, I don't care! But two whole days is ridiculous—!"

####

7:02 a.m.

"I THOUGHT you were my FRIEND!"

All three eavesdroppers cringed—Dipper hardest of all. His heart was hammering out of his chest and his t-shirt was at least 50% sweat by volume. Was this part of the plan? It sounded like an insane plan. This couldn't be the plan. It had to be the plan. He'd already prevented Ford from intervening, what if they were really fighting? But what if this really was the plan? 

"WELL! If you're gonna act like this just because I wondered what you're up to, maybe NOT! What kind of fun are you good for, you wouldn't even be into burning a house down!"

Dipper messed up. He'd actually ruined their friendship right before Bill was about to die and Mabel would be miserableand it was all his fault. This fight was real. They were furious. They hated each other—

####

7:03 a.m.

"OH YEAH, WELL—" Mabel faltered as she struggled to think of a fitting retort. "YOU WOULDN'T EVEN BE INTO—into—n-NOT BURNING A HOUSE DOWN!" She cringed at herself, struggling not to laugh.

Bill had been fighting the urge to laugh so hard that his face was turning red. "OHHH WOW, GREAT COMEBACK."

Mabel's voice went shrill with suppressed hysterics. "SHUT UP!" Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she socked Bill's arm. If he made her lose it when everyone was outside listening—

The door opened. "Hey—!"

They both rounded on Stan. "STAY OUT OF IT!" Mabel snatched up a discarded sweater. Stan shut the door just before the sweater hit it.

Mabel quietly wheezed, "Do you think he saw anything?"

"No, n—" Bill had to clap both hands over his mouth and nose to keep silent. Mabel wrapped her arms around him and smushed her face against his chest to muffle herself. They stood there, shaking, until the hysterics passed.

The stress was getting to them.

####

7:06 a.m.

"Fine!!" Mabel lifted the height-altering flashlight. "Then you can just stay here all weekend!"

Bill had on his backpack (Dipper had "agreed" Bill could take his) and was clutching his umbrella. He gave her a thumbs up; ready. "FINE!"

"FINE!" Mabel turned on the flashlight. When Bill was around four inches tall, she turned it off, knelt down, and offered her hand for him to climb on. She stuffed the flashlight in her backpack, carefully set Bill in a sweater nest (how had Gideon flung her and Dipper in a jar so cavalierly? she was terrified of snapping Bill's bones like toothpicks), zipped the backpack and gingerly put it on; and then Mabel was storming out of the room.

"Leave him in there," Mabel snapped, pointing at the door. She was shaking with fear. "He's in TIME OUT."

Dipper glanced nervously at the door, "Um..." He looked so worried. She hadn't had a chance to explain the plan to him.

Mabel glared into his eyes. She summoned up all her mostly placebic Twin Empathy Powers to beam her thoughts into Dipper's brain. Don't. Please don't. If you say anything you'll ruin it.

He raised his hands. "Okay, fine."

Mabel rushed past him to the stairs, trying to escape as fast as possible without jostling her backpack.

####

7:08 a.m.

Buckled into Mrs. Grendinator's car, voice shaking, Mabel said, "Can we just go? Please?" Now, before someone ran out of the shack and waved them down to demand Mabel explain where Bill had gone. Her hands were trembling in fear, clutched protectively around her backpack with its secret cargo. One of her best friends was in there. She couldn't let anything happen to him.

Mrs. Grendinator nodded. "Of course."

As they pulled around the Mystery Shack and toward the road, Mabel glanced toward the attic bedroom window, afraid the adults might have already gone in and discovered their trick; but no one looked back.

Now all she could do was hope the paper Bill had left floating over the dummy would do its job.

####

(Shoutout to the one person who theorized the size changing flashlight could be involved, I'd @ you but I don't want you to see this before you read the chapter. You may claim credit in the notes. Based on the messages I received, one person guessed Mabel got involved halfway through the fight, no one guessed she was in it from the start, and NOBODY guessed Dipper got involved.

For a fun time, go back and read last chapter and this one in chronological order via the timestamps!

But first I wanna hear all your thoughts.)