#unfortunately i was not able to fit in a line at the start

[bbsmuts]

Anything For The Team ft. Jeon Somi

A/N: I'm writing this to fill in the gap between Mistaken Identity and the upcoming Field Trip finale, which will likely be a couple of months. It was a suggestion by @xiaoondc in light of Somi's appearance at the Tottenham Hotspurs meet & greet. I personally am in favor of the team because my man Son Heung-min plays for them. So consider this a filler smut for the long waiting period. I was originally meaning for this to be a quickie, like 2-2.5k, but I got a little carried away.

Unfortunately all my readers will have to suspend reality a little bit for two reasons. A, because Premiere League games happen in England, and Somi lives in Korea. B, because she'd likely get arrested for what she does in this one. So let's ignore that little snag and those pesky laws and read on. In addition to that, some parts of this were written without a whole ton of thought behind them, since this was never intended to be a long and drawn-out process.

This one will be a little more detailed and a little more accurate than After-match Entertainment, since I actually know how football works (soccer for all you dirty Americans), so I can actually write more of the game into it. Cheers.

And yes, there will more than likely be a part 2 with the Somi x NBA thing.

-상훈

Length: 6.61k

Possible TW: Spanking, choking, noncon, hate fucking, bondage, forced exhibitionism, degradation

Tags: Flashing warning (but literally), gangbang, spanking, choking, hair pulling, slapping, noncon, hate fucking, bondage, forced exhibitionism, spitroasting, DP, degradation

BRRRRRT

Somi's alarm jolted her out of her sleep instantly, the loud tone sending her heart rate through the roof as it always did when she was awoken from sleep suddenly.

"Whatsit..." She mumbled, picking up her phone and looking at it disdainfully. "Come on, it's too early to get up..."

The alarm note read "Don't forget the game, dumbass" and she immediately flew out of bed, suddenly more energized. There was a Tottenham Hotspurs vs. Aston Villa game happening that she had tickets to, and she didn't want to be late.

After speedily getting dressed and doing the quick essentials of her makeup, she went out to the kitchen to grab something to eat before she left. After bolting down her halfassed breakfast she hopped in her car and left, excited to see the Spurs playing in person.

–––

She arrived at the stadium a few miles dow the road later and had to stop and take in the size of the place; it had to be at least 150 feet tall and probably 400 feet long, a truly massive building.

She had her ticket scanned and headed up to her seat, which was located in a private box in the grandstands. She didn't like being in the crowd because she had sensitive ears and all the screaming made her head spin. So she preferred to be by herself. There was still a good fifteen minutes before the game started, and in about ten the players would be lining up on the pitch.

She talked a little to her best friend Eunbin, who unfortunately hadn't been able to make it, before the players were lined up on the pitch and she had to leave the call to see the action. Five minutes before the game, the team captains were to come to the sidelines for the coin flip to decide who got the kick off. As Son Heung-min, who she'd had a crush on for all of her teenage years and still thought was extremely hot, came jogging over to where the referee was, she couldn't help but mentally note the sculpted facial features, the lean and fit body beneath the tight jersey.

"Damn, he's so fine," she murmured to herself, imagination already jumping to filthy thoughts of what she'd let him do to her. Hell, for that guy? She'd do anything. Her mind showed her images of him choking her until she couldn't breathe, spanking her ass until it's red, pulling her hair, fucking her so nice and deep, ohh god yes...

The coin flip was completed and Tottenham got the kick off, so Son and Richarlison were the two who ran to the center of the field, waiting for the ref's whistle to start. The rest of the players took their positions around the pitch and waited as well; after a moment, in which the fans kept up their deafening roar, the whistle was blown and the game began.

Richarlison passed it to Son, who made a move forward past Barkley of Aston Villa, who'd tried to block him. Swiftly and expertly, he weaved and dodged his way between all the Aston Villa defenders and made an appreciable shot at the goal, but it was caught by Martinez, the goalkeeper. The Spurs fans let out a terrible groan, but it did nothing to dissuade the vigor of the team's players. Ignoring the missed goal, they waited for Martinez to throw it back into play.

—————————————————————————————————— A/N: Now, there's a reason I'm not a sports journalist, trying to write out what's usually a mostly uneventful 90 minutes isn't something I want to do here. Xiaoondc and I have planned to make that 90 minutes far more interesting, but for time's sake I'm going to skip around in the game so we're not all here reading a play-by-play of an imaginary game. So for the moment, let's say that it's the 77th minute, and Tottenham are tied with Aston Villa at 2-2. ——————————————————————————————————

It was beginning to look, to Somi, as if the Hotspurs might not win this one. Son, Johnson, and Solanke had been making some spectacular attempts, Son having scored twice, but Martinez's keeping was superb today. Likewise, Aston Villa's forwards had been putting forth a valiant effort against Vicario, but he had held strong and only conceded two goals.

There were only thirteen minutes left in the game, which meant someone needed to score for Tottenham. The trouble was, they were starting to lose focus and Aston Villa was taking advantage of that. If only there were something she could do about it, Somi thought.

And then, it clicked.

There was something she could do. It was risky, risky as hell, but in her mind entirely worth it. After all, she was in a private booth which would, logically, only be visible to people on the field, and...the entire other half of the stadium. The thought, depraved as it was, send shivers running through her and made her pussy wet. But amidst her thought, she saw Son get the ball and make a run down the outer left corner, and the Aston Villa defenders were closing on him...

The want to do it overtook her and with a deep breath, she mustered up her courage and pulled her shirt up, exposing the naked breasts of Jeon Somi to about 20,000 people.

Her mind, having been silent, was not screaming at her to cover herself up, sending the humiliation chemicals to her amygdala. But in the humiliation and risk, she found a thrill that suddenly had her practically panting with lust. With bated breath she waited, her own shirt covering her eyes, and she heard the Aston Villa fans across the pitch groan and then cheer. Confused, she lowered her shirt to watch the replay of whatever happened on the big screen on the other side. The eyes of Nedeljković, an Aston Villa defender who'd been about to steal the ball from Son, slid up to what was obviously her box and he slowed hugely, letting Son through with the ball with an expression of rapturous lust. Son made a great shot, but it was again blocked by Martinez, hence the cheers. Somi looked down at Nedeljković, whose teammates were throwing their hands up in real time, not knowing what he'd seen.

Confidence in her tactic increasing in light of her small victory, she retreated from the window and waited. She'd distracted Nedeljković for the second Son needed to get through, and if he could put the ball into the goal past Martinez, that would almost certainly guarantee the Spurs' win. Approaching the 82nd minute, both teams seemed to be getting more desperate. They started to get rougher, more agitated, and Villa came close to scoring twice. But then Somi's moment arrived, and Richarlison got the ball and sent it down the outside right. Taking another, deeper breath, she slid her pants and panties down her legs and propped herself up on the handrail guarding the window, sticking her ass out towards the crowd. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that the defenders were too focused on keeping him out to look up at her (for all intents and purposes let's say she's in a private box near their end of the field), but she saw Richarlison give a split-second glance at her, and whether it was due to her or not, he suddenly ran faster, and making it past the defenders, slammed his foot into the ball and sent it speeding towards the goal's unprotected left side.

But Martinez was too quick. He sprang to the side and swung his right foot into the ball to counter. It soared across the pitch to the waiting feet of a Tottenham midfielder, who was immediately swarmed by opponents and teammates.

Somi quickly stripped, tossing her clothes aside. Approaching the window again, she was acutely aware of phones being turned to her, fingers pointing, eyes drinking in her naked body through the glass, making her blush even harder.

What the hell am I thinking? She thought, heart pounding as she stood naked before the eyes of thousands. What if I get caught? What if they put me on the news?

But she couldn't lie to herself. If she was to be honest, she knew that she wanted to be caught, she wanted to have everyone know Somi as the slut who flashed tens of thousands of people just to help her team win. And most of all, she wanted Son to see her and know it was her.

The 89th minute. Richarlison came into possession again and took it down the same way as last time, but something was different. Son was running parallel to him up the middle-left side, and Somi knew what was about to happen. In a last ditch-effort, she swung her legs over the rail, propped herself up on it, and spread her legs wide, pushing her feet against the walls on either side for balance.

Somewhere amidst the immediate shame and embarrassment she felt, she registered the sound of the entire opposite side of the pitch collectively gasping and saying "woah". Looking down, she saw the Villa defenders get distracted by the sound and throw questioning glances around, until they spotted her. Mouths dropping open in shock, the lost their concentration and let Richarlison through. It worked! she thought, but instead of shooting for the goal, he sent it to the center, chipping it up over the heads of the starstruck Villa defenders. Son, perfectly positioned, jumped into the air, leaned back, and kicked the ball directly into the top-right corner of the goal, and landed the flip on his feet.

The stadium exploded, the yells of the players entirely drowned out by the roar of the crowd, and the ref's whistle blew three times to signify the end of the match. Son, yelling "YES!" with the rest of his teammates, was borne onto their shoulders. Jumping up and down with elation while the Villa players shook their heads and beat the air with their fists, they made their way over to the sideline, where they all hugged each other and beat Son on the back.

His eyes traveled up the grandstands to her box. She blushed furiously and nearly fell off her perch as she saw his gaze linger on her body before he smiled and nodded a silent thanks to her. Ready to swoon, she got off the rail and got dressed again, silently jubilant that her tactic had worked and, more importantly, Son had noticed her. And looked at her. While she was naked.

The mere thought was enough to make her exultation die down and replace it with pure lust. Undoubtedly there would be a lot of posts about what she'd just done, and a lot of speculation about whether or not it was her. A hot media debate that wouldn't die down for a long time.

Leaving the stadium, she was almost immediately spotted and pointed out by reporters. She realized she'd forgotten to put her mask back on, but she wasn't opposed to an interview.

The nearest one approached her with a cameraman.

"Miss Jeon, would you be so kind as to spare us a moment of your time?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Somi nodded. "Sure. And please, just call me Somi."

"Alright Miss Somi, who are you here to support today?" The mic was held up to her mouth once more.

"Tottenham."

"How do you feel about the game's results?"

"I'm quite happy with how the game ended, and I'm proud of my team for their incredible win."

"Miss Somi, there have been speculations that you were involved in something that has now gone viral, recognize this?"

Somi's cheeks blazed red as the reporter held up her phone, showing a blurred-out video of Somi's own body being flashed to the crowd.

"I-I beg your pardon?"

"Some attenders of the game have been saying online that it was you who was in the video, are they correct?" The reporter's eyes bored into hers.

"I'm a very avid supporter of the Spurs, but suggesting I was involved in any public indecency is quite ludicrous."

She didn't directly deny it, either.

"So it wasn't you?"

"I was simply passionately supporting my team, any rumors of my involvement in public nudity are pure conjecture."

Her avoidance of a definitive answer definitely did not go unnoticed by the reporter, whose eyes narrowed before she concluded the short interview.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Somi."

Grinning to herself, Somi fished her mask out of her pocket and slipped it on before heading back to her car, feeling immense satisfaction in today's events.

...

Late that afternoon, her phone started ringing and she picked it up to see an unknown number calling. The Caller ID was someone named Ange Postecoglou.

"Hello?" She said, accepting the call.

"Good evening, this is Ange Postecoglou, team manager of the Tottenham Hotspurs. To whom am I speaking?"

"Jeon Somi," Somi said, ear-to-ear grin returning to her face. "How can I help you?"

"You're by yourself, I presume?"

"Yes, what is it?"

He lowered his voice. "It was you, wasn't it?"

Somi didn't even need to ask what he was talking about.

"Yes, it was." Her smile widened.

"Well, I'd like to offer you my sincerest thanks for your...erm...assistance today. If not for you, I fear we would have lost."

"Ah, well," Somi said, sitting down on her bed and dangling her feet over the edge, "I just did what I could for my team."

"We'd like to offer you an exclusive opportunity to meet the team."

Somi paused the swinging of her feet, surprised and immediately overtaken with excitement.

"Really?!" She half-shouted, then blushed at her own reaction. "I mean, really?"

"Really." She could hear the amusement in his tone. "They'd like to, uh...thank you personally."

His double meaning was not missed.

"When and where do I go?"

"A black limousine will be outside the Lotte World Mall at 6:30 pm sharp."

"Thanks, I'll be there."

After hanging up, she reverse checked the number and everything checked out, so, nerves jingling with anticipation, she waited the remaining hour and then got ready.

Having more time to prep herself for an outing this time, she selected her favorite and most revealing lacy black bra with matching panties. A short, ruffled black miniskirt and a skimpy red long sleeve crop top were her choices for outerwear.

(Yes, I know the outfit's not the same.)

Adding something a little hotter to her already done makeup from earlier and adding a subtle hint of her sexiest perfume, she gave herself the final touches to make herself as alluring as possible. And so, having prepared, she set out for the mall, which wasn't a far drive. She arrived at 6:27, parked her car near the mall, and waited outside it.

Only a minute later, a black limo with tinted windows and silver lining on them pulled up next to the curb, driver's side facing the sidewalk.

"Miss Somi?" The driver rolled down the window.

"That's me."

"Hop in."

She opened the back door of the limo and got in, immediately surprised by the quality of the interior. Beige leather seats, soft carpet padding, a massive moonroof spanning the entire ceiling of the car, several drink dispensers opposite the seats, a wine rack in the same place, and LED strip lights lining the entire thing. It was one of the nicest limos she'd ever been in, and after sitting down and giving the window separating her and the driver two taps to get him going, she quickly made use of the large bottle of whiskey sitting opposite her. Couldn't hurt to be a little tipsy meeting them.

A few minutes later the limo pulled to a stop in front of a massive building that she could only assume was the Spur's training facility. The driver disembarked and opened her door for her, then led her in through the front doors of the facility, then through a few hallways and a set of double doors. The doors led her back outside to a football pitch, where six of the eleven players who'd participated in the game were lined up on the opposite side. Son, Richarlison, Solanke, Johnson, Moore, and Lankshear, Son in the lead.

The driver left them and Somi, heart pounding with excitement and lust, approached the eleven.

"Mannaseo bangapseumnida, Somi-ssi." Son said, bowing respectfully.

Somi returned the bow. "Machangajilo, oppa."

Inwardly, as she greeted all the others, she found it a little ironic to be addressing each other so politely when they were most likely going to be fucking her senseless momentarily. Their eyes roved over her body, which was barely concealed by her outfit and left almost nothing to the imagination. They seemed hesitant, unsure of her allowance. She reached up to the hem of her crop top and stripped it off, revealing the scanty, lacy bra underneath. Immediately they seemed to become more confident, now that she'd shown them that she had no reservations. They closed in on her, hands feeling up her torso and sliding under her skirt. She bit her lip as their hands explored her body, feeling her arousal increase. She was quickly surrounded, various hands tugging at her skirt until it slid down her thighs, pooling at her feet.

"Mm, like what you see, boys?"

The only response she got was a powerful slap to her ass, which made her moan. Her slick was practically spilling down her thighs, a situation that did not go unnoticed by the team. Various filthy utterances filled her ears, the hands now roughly fingering her pussy making her gasp, pant and moan like she was in heat.

"Fuck, I want it so bad..." She bucked her hips into the hands, feeling her bra being unclasped and her breasts being freed. Hands slid over them as well, squeezing and pinching her nipples. She sank to her knees, grasping and feeling up the rock-hard cocks in their shorts. They wasted no time in ridding themselves of the shorts, revealing 6 throbbing shafts waiting to be sucked dry.

Somi eagerly jammed the first one into her mouth, bobbing her head back and forth passionately. She raised her hands to jerk off two more as more spanks rained down on her ass from behind her. Each slap send a thrill of pleasure-pain through her, and she relished in the sensation as much as she could while going down Solanke. He gathered her hair into a loose ponytail and pulled her head into his crotch. Pumping his hips into her face, driving his cock deeper into her throat, he made her gag and choke on the saliva she inhaled.

"Yes!" She cried as he let her take a breath, pussy throbbing with need. "Fuck my mouth harder daddy!"

He thrust back into her mouth, her eyes rolling back as her throat was bulged. She moaned the fingers getting more daring with each passing second. Her breath hitched at the sensation of three fingers being pushed into her tunnel, her g-spot being ferociously fingered. Pleasure flooded her nerve endings, and her moans increased in volume, in desperation. The thrusts to her face got harder, faster, and she knew he was about to cum.

When a thumb pressed against her clit and circled roughly, she lost it.

Her orgasmic scream was muffled by the thick meat in her throat and Solanke's groan as he shot ropes of cum down her throat. She struggled to draw in oxygen past both blockages, and he pulled out to allow her to breathe.

She gasped in a breath and panted, letting herself fall back to the support of her arms. A large wet spot on the grass made it muddy where she sat, and before long they pulled her onto her knees.

"Please," she murmured as more fingers delved into her hypersensitive slit, the brutal thrusts putting her on edge again. "Please, I want your cocks so bad...please, daddy..."

A pair of powerful arms lifted her into the air, and from a glance over her shoulder she gathered that those powerful arms belonged to none other than Son Heung-min, who'd shed his shirt and shorts. The tip of his cock pressed against her entrance, making her eyes and mouth widen in pure shock and pleasure at the sheer size.

"Please, daddy," she moaned, feeling her hands being cuffed behind her back, "please fuck me! Fuck me so hard I scream and cum on your fucking monster, make me squirt for you, please!"

At this point Somi was shut up by the tip of Lankshear's pressing against her lips, which she opened obediently. Simultaneously, both of them pushed their hips forward, a lot of inches being pushed into both sides of her. She cried out into it, pussy being blissfully stretched out. She felt every inch, every centimeter, every throbbing vein and ridge.

And then they started moving from either side, the sound of skin slapping into skin echoing around the pitch. Her muffled moans, their groans, and the lewd schlicks of both his cock pumping in and out of her slick hole and the other four stroking themselves to the sight.

She closed her eyes and bobbed her head in time with his thrusts, trying to distract herself from or stave off the impending orgasm, but it was pointless. The way the veins on Son's shaft grated against her g-spot felt too good. Her moans turned to cries, which turned quickly to shrieks as the waves of pleasure tore through her, obliterating her mind momentarily. Lankshear pulled out momentarily to allow her to release the wail of pleasure that had built up in her lungs. Eyes rolling back, the sensation wracked her body and she squirted hard, drenching the group and Son's thighs with cum. She couldn't signal to Lankshear that she wanted his cock back in her mouth, so she rolled her eyes back, opened her mouth, and stuck out her tongue to entice him. He took advantage of her tongue being out to achieve deeper penetration in her throat, meanwhile Son kept determinedly pumping away at her pussy. She could tell both of them were nearing orgasm; the telltale moans and "fuck yeah"s didn't do much to hide it.

Lankshear gave out with a groan and buried himself in her throat, choking her and spewing his cum deep down her gullet, delivering a hard slap to her face that only got her going more.

Free from the member bulging her throat, Somi could now fully vocalize the pure bliss she was feeling. Son pulled her upright so they were facing each other, and she felt the steel-solid cords of muscle flexing to hold her up.

"Fuck, fuck, yes, yes right there daddy!" She cried. "Oh my god, yes, right there, you're so big, I'm gonna cum again! You're fucking me so deep, I love it, yes!"

What took her by surprise was Bissouma coming up behind her and taking advantage of her ass cheeks being spread.

"God, that's so deep!" She groaned, three quarters of the big dick in her ass in one stroke.

Son took one hand off her ass and slapped it, earning a yelp from her and more natural lubricant down below. Both fucked her harder and faster, spanking her more, pushing her closer to her third orgasm.

"Yes, yes, yes, more, please!" He took one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and pinching with his teeth, and she threw her head back, humping into his thrusts desperately. "Ohh fuck yes daddy, please pound me harder, it feels so fucking good, yes! I'm cumming!"

"Jenjang, nado keuraeyo!" Son groaned, keeping up his pace. (Fuck, me too!)

He slammed her down onto his cock while jerking his hips up into her, reaching new depths inside her and firmly pushing into her cervix and causing her third orgasm.

"FUCK!" She saw stars as the pure sensation making fireworks explode in her brain. The orgasm ripped through her body like a gunshot, her nerves on fire with pleasure as she rode it out. She then registered their hot cum spurting into her womb and bowels, the surges of warmth triggering a fourth, mind-shattering orgasm. An overstimulated, moaning sob left her, tears welling in her eyes from the intensity of the feeling. Son gave her supple cheeks one more spank before putting her down none too gently.

She lay still on the ground, chest heaving, covered in sweat. The mud she'd created smudged on her ass and back, having turned cool in the absence of her body heat. Her brain had checked out; there was no comprehensible thought running through it at all.

They allowed her a couple of minutes of recovery time, and when she noticed them approaching she sat up, biting her lip with half lidded eyes. She got on all fours and wiggled her ass, smirking up at them.

"Ready for round two...daddies?"

...

She left the compound with her holes fucked wide open, cum leaking out of every single one, and a fair amount still on her face. She'd decided to keep it there a little while for some selfies.

"I trust you had fun?" Her driver asked once she got back in the limo.

"I did. Back to the mall, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

After the quick drive back to the mall and the selfies she had wanted to take, she thanked the chauffeur and stepped inside the mall to wash off her face. Deciding to go for a little walk over the Jamsil Bridge in the cool night air, she started the entirely deserted footpath.

She was about two third of the way through the bridge when a group of men - very muscular men, Somi noted - entered the footpath from the opposite side. As they drew nearer, she recognized one of them. Then two, then three. Then all five of them.

"No way..." she muttered, stopping dead in her tracks as she recognized five of the Aston Villa players, Nedeljković in the lead. And none of them looked happy to see her.

"Well, well, well..." Nedeljković said, tone low and menacing. "Look what we have here."

"If it isn't Jeon Somi," said Torres, voice laced with anger, gesturing for the other three to surround her from the back. "The passionate Tottenham supporter."

"And dressed like she's heading to her night shift at the local whorehouse." One of the voices behind her said.

She took a step back from Nedeljković, a feeling of fear rearing its head inside her. Surely they wouldn't beat her up? A five on one? With cars watching?

But the cars weren't watching. The cars were on the uppermost section of the bridge, and the six of them were directly beneath, completely out of sight. The fear intensified.

"What do you say boys?" Nedeljković asked.

She sensed the three behind her closing in as the two in front did the same; panicking, she turned around and tried to push through them, but their arms shot out and held her back. Nedeljković took her by the hair, bicep flexing with the force with which he was holding on, and pulled her head back to look at him.

"We're going to make you pay for what you did, Somi."

"Please," Somi whispered, not even attempting to escape for fear of further abuse. "Don't hurt me...

"Hurt you?" The entire group laughed, and he took her arms and pinned them to the fence wall she was backed against. "God, she's so naive. We're not gonna hurt you, you dumb bitch. Pretty little thing like you, we're gonna pay you back for what you did another way..."

Her eyes widened at the implication and her cheeks flushed red.

"No, please don't!" She struggled a little bit, to which he put a hand around her neck and pushed lightly. "Please...have mercy..."

Despite how scared she was of them, she couldn't deny that the position he had her in was making her very aroused. Being helpless like this, it turned her on to the point where she was literally trembling, cheeks flushed red and pussy wet again.

"Look at this, lads!" He said, grip tightening on her neck. "We haven't even done anything and this slut is already panting like a bitch in heat!"

His hand left her neck and trailed its way down her body, caressing her breasts, down her abs, and up her skirt, pushing a couple of fingers into her past the panties.

"Mmm~" She purred, biting her lip at the sensation and the fact that she was completely helpless to whatever he wanted to do.

"Yeah, you like that, you little whore?"

"Yes~" She bucked her hips into his fingers, gasping, her eyebrows arching upwards as he roughly palmed her clit and rubbed her g-spot. "Oh fuck - oh my god yes - just like that~"

He slapped her face hard, making her gasp again, and kept fingering her.

"When I ask you a question, you address me properly, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" She rolled her hips into his hand desperately, already on edge from his skilled touch. "Oh, please, sir, keep going, make me cum!"

She moaned desperately, needily, begging for release, but his fingers disappeared at the last second.

"No, please!" She squeezed around pure air, whimpering at the absence of the fingers.

"Shut up." Another slap landed on her face. "I said we're giving you some payback, not rewarding you."

He turned her around, and she felt leather cuffs being secured into place on her wrists behind her back. The next second, three fingers had been shoved into her pussy again, making her cry out.

"Fuck, that's it...ooh yess sir please keep going, just like that..."

"Shut the fuck up and take it." He smacked her ass.

"Yes, sir," she gasped, wiggling it as his fingers moved in and out of her.

"Oh my god yes, I'm cumming, fuck!"

But he pulled the fingers out at the last second, denying her the orgasm again.

"Fuck you!" She cried in frustration, an involuntary whine leaving her mouth again.

Quick as lightning, he darted around to where her face was and roughly grabbed her by the jaw, making her look at him.

"What did you just say to me?"

"Nothing!" She immediately became small and submissive again, made nervous by his aggression. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean it."

He sat down on the ledge and pulled her over his lap, lifting her skirt up over the swell of her hips.

"Now, you're going to learn what happens to bad little whores when they misbehave and talk back their owners.

He bent her over his knee and put his right leg over the backs of her knees, effectively trapping her, and started viciously spanking her over her panties, which did nothing to protect her ass from the relentless assault.

"Ow! Fuck! Sir, please, it hurts!"

"Of course it does, you dumbass whore!"

Tears sprang to her eyes at the continued abuse of her pinkened cheeks, and she struggled a bit, which only earned her harder smacks.

"I'm sorry, sir!"

"You better be fucking sorry!" He continued, heedless of her words.

And yet, in the pain of his powerful spanks, she felt her arousal spike. She arched her back into it, suddenly craving more punishment, more humiliation. She was totally, hopelessly turned on by the position she found herself in.

"Harder!" She begged. "Please, sir, punish me harder!"

"You hearing this slut?" He muttered to the rest of the team. "Begging for more punishment. Just a masochistic little pain slut, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir!" Her own submission driving her crazy with lust, she kept arching her back, wiggling her hips. He increased the force of the spanks, making her moan louder, and when he added the fingers back, she fell apart.

She barely recognized the voice that screamed out of her throat; it sounded most unlike her: high-pitched, desperate, needy. And in her body, among the orgasmic eruption inside, she recognized another feeling: Hunger. She wanted them, she wanted them a lot.

"P-please," she whimpered, her entire body hot and shaking, "please give me your dick, s-sir..."

"You hear that, lads? She wants our dicks."

"Please, sir," she almost whispered, eyes half-lidded, "I want it so bad..."

He positioned himself behind her and pushed into her, groaning at the tightness. He ripped off her panties, reached forward, and pushed them into her mouth; she could taste her own arousal and it only made her hornier.

"Fuck me...fuck me hard, sir, I need it..."

Fast, hard, brutal strokes were what she got in return. The sheer force of each thrust pushed her forward and made her ass and breasts jiggle. Though muffled by her panty gag, her cries could easily be heard by all.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, just like that, fuck me just like that sir! Ohh god it's so good, so deep inside me!"

He stopped momentarily, laid down under her so she was on top, and then resumed. A second cock pressed against her asshole and entered, making her double over, not expecting the sudden penetration. One of Nedeljković's hands reached up and grasped her throat and she bit her lip in arousal.

"Now, tell me Somi, are you ever going to do something like that to fuck up our game again?"

She shook her head, earning her a slap, which intensified her lust.

"Say it properly."

"No, sir," she moaned, "I won't, sir..."

"Good girl." She shivered. "You kept us from winning by doing that."

"Well, maybe if you'd – ohh fuck~...played better, you wouldn't have lost." She was playing with fire and she knew it, but it was worth seeing the surprised and angry look on his face. His hand closed on her face, pulling it close to his.

"You better watch what you say to me, slut."

"Get better at football."

He slapped her, grabbed her hips and started slamming his into them. Her moans turned to screams, her entire lower region being overridden by the sharp increase in pleasure.

"F-fuck, that's t-too much!" She cried, involuntarily bucking her hips, her body betraying her words. "S-so good!"

He ignored her and , keeping the impacts in time with his thrusts.

"Care to take that back?"

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean it!" She was going to cum again and she knew it, and there was nothing she could or wanted to do about it. She reveled in the harsh treatment, in the submission they required from her, that she so willingly gave. The throbbing in her asshole intensified, and another torrent of warmth shortly followed a groan, leaving Nedeljković as the last one in the game.

"Do you wanna cum?"

"Yes, sir, please, make me squirt for you!"

"If that's the best you can do then I don't think you want to cum. You'll have to beg me."

He slid himself out from under her and stood, his cock resting on her face as she knelt and looked up at him.

"Please, sir, please let me cum, I want to cum so bad! I want to squirt on your big dick, I need you to fuck me and make me cum again, please~"

"Oh, you need me to? Well, if you insist..."

He pushed her down onto all fours and knelt behind her, slapping her ass before entering her again in a single, well-lubricated stroke.

"Oh god yes," she groaned, feeling him push down on her head, ensuring she was under his control. "So fucking big..."

"Keep your pretty head down, Somi," he growled in her ear, his voice making her shiver with arousal.

"Yes, sir," she moaned breathlessly, trying to buck up into him to impale herself deeper. Her shouts and his grunts reverberated around the footpath, and she did nothing to stop them. Dimly, she recognized the feeling of the cuffs being taken off her, and she pushed herself up with trembling arms.

"Oh yes, fuck my little pussy harder!" He reached around, pressed his index and middle fingers to her clit, and rubbed hard, sharply spiking her pleasure. "Ngghh fuck yes! So deep, yes, yes, please don't stop! I'm cumming!"

His fist closed on her hair again, the vicelike grip unyielding. It took only a few moments before she herself closed like a vice on his cock, and she gave a wild yell as a stream of cum sprayed out of her. He grunted, breathing out heavily in an almost-groan as his own cum spurted deep into her.

"Oh god...oh fuck..." She breathed like she'd been running for miles, and her arms folded under the weight of her own upper body.

"God damn..." Nedeljković commented, getting dressed again, "Much as I hate this bitch's guts, she is a good fuck. Cuff her to the fence."

Wait, what?! She was woken from her stupor by the feeling of two strong hands lifting her up and dragging her to the fence, directly into the view of traffic. The leather cuffs clicked into place, leaving her sitting on the concrete with her arms above her head, and she was too weak to resist.

The three who hadn't fucked her stepped forward, finally unleashing their loads on her. Thick shots of cum streaked her thighs, abs, breasts, and face, the last few landing in her obediently open mouth. The three quickly got dressed and her brain was immediately awake as hell when they started walking away.

"Wait! I'm still here!"

"Yeah, we know." Nedeljković called over his shoulder. "I wonder how long it'll be before someone finds you?"

"Let me go! Please!"

They ignored her pleas and she settled back down, resigning herself to it. A flash of white caught her eyes, and she looked up just in time to see a phone being stowed back away before the car drove past.

"Great," she muttered to herself, feeling her face grow hot. "Guess it's gonna be a long night."

...

A/N: Yeah, I did just leave her there for all the traffic and walkers to see. Thanks for reading!

[writingsbychlo]

KNOW YOU LIKE I DO | tom riddle

summary; love letters are tom's way of communicating. unfortunately, he's not as good with his actions.

word count; 7036

notes; another one that I said was gonna be short and it wasn’t. I think I’m physically incapable of writing short fics, actually.

Dear Tom,

Tommy. 

My Tom. 

Do you still have that first letter I wrote to you, back in summer? No, I suppose you don’t, that’s not very like you. 

I’m drunk. Just a little bit (a lot), and I can’t take it anymore. Mattheo told me to tell you how I feel, and that is exactly what I’m going to do. He’s asleep on my bed right now, drooling into my favourite pillow waiting for me to write this. 

So here it is. 

I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m confused. I’m in love. And it’s all your fault.

Staring across the crowded room, your eyes fixed back onto that of Tom Riddle. It wasn’t hard to spot him, not as he was the only man who came to a Christmas party dressed in all black and sat alone, brooding. His lips were pressed into a line, the lights bouncing off of those shiny curls, green and red splashed across his pale skin as he sipped at his drink, listening to the conversation Draco and Blaise were having, but never participating. 

Your heart lurched a little in your chest, just the mere sight of him had a thousand different feelings rearing their heads, and you sighed to yourself. Shaking your head, your attention was redirected to the drinks table, pouring yourself an extra strong helping of Giggle Gin and topping it off. The urge to look back over was strong, and you steadfastly ignored it, suppressing the urge and instead, turning your back to his direction, walking towards the group of girls giggling in the opposite corner. 

Taking your seat back in the comfy corner of the sofa, Pansy offered you a smile, her arm looped over Luna’s shoulders as the blonde cuddled into her side. Astoria was currently recounting the intimate details of her latest night with Draco, and you hid a smile in your cup as you tuned back into the conversation. 

You lost the battle with your will, however, gaze moving directly back across the room to Tom. He had a slight smirk on his face now as he watched Draco speak, and you did not doubt that he was receiving a tale of the exact same encounter Astoria was currently telling, only from a different point of view. 

Blonde cut across your vision, the perfect smile of Daphne blocking your view as she sat in front of you, severing any sights of Tom you might have had. “You know,” She started, grinning as she took a sip of your drink cheekily, before handing it back. “If you stare at him any harder, you’re gonna’ drill holes in the side of his head.”

You could only scoff, but no argument formed. Lately, all you’d been able to do was stare longingly at him across any room. You weren’t subtle, and you’d never been much good at hiding your feelings. Which seemed fitting, since you’d fallen for someone who was like a blank slate, permanently. 

Tom Riddle was a harder book to read than a tablet written in a never-before-discovered language. 

“He looks so… miserable, Daph.”

She glances over her shoulder at him, snorting a laugh, and turning her attention back to you. “Because Tom Riddle doesn’t go to parties, and he’s probably counting the minutes until he can leave.” She smirked a little, shuffling closer, perched on the edge of her seat as she leaned in, “At least, he didn’t go to parties. Until you, that is.”

Your cheeks flushed, a subtle hint at the running joke your friendship group had taken on. They’d all become convinced that Tom attended parties for you, ever since he’d been a willing guest for the first time at Draco’s end-of-summer bonfire bash, and spent the majority of the night talking with you. They refused to let it go. 

“You should go over there and cheer him up. I bet he’d be smiling in no time if you gave him a little attention.”

That was exactly the problem. You’d been giving him a little too much attention, and now, everyone was painfully aware of your feelings for him. Except for him, maybe. Either that, or he was just very good at pretending he didn’t notice, in a chance to let you down gently. You didn’t know which option was worse. “Don’t be ridiculous, Daph.”

“No, you don’t be ridiculous! You and him are… something else.” She took your free hand in hers, squeezing tightly. All amusement melted from her face, and she gave you a serious look. The expression she wore when advising her sister on Draco, or comforting Pansy after a panic attack. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened over the summer, or are you just going to keep acting like it wasn’t some cataclysmic shift?”

“So dramatic.” You hummed to your roommate.

“Still pretending, I see.” She teases lightly, but her brows are still furrowed. She waited a few more seconds, to see if you’ll crack. All you do is hold her steady gaze, and take a sip of your drink. With a sigh, she released your hand, and leans back in her chair. “Well, whatever. We can all see it, see how you two pine for one another, and how perfect you’d be together. Just go and talk to him! He’s probably sat over there waiting for you anyway. He had that exact same kicked-puppy expression on at the summer party, until you walked in.”

“He did not…” You murmur, the very thought making you blush. 

“I think that’s the first time I ever saw Tom Riddle smile. A real smile, not the smile he gets when threatening someone, or when Mattheo falls over. A good smile.” 

“Now you’re just making him out like some kind of sulky villain.” You retort, and she only raises a brow at you.

“Here, take him this box, and go talk to him. The poor boy looks lost over there without you.” Reaching under her chair, Daphne produces a familiar box, wrapped neatly in black paper with dark green ribbon, and your jaw drops. 

“Daphne!—” Reaching out to snatch it from her, your brows furrow. “Did you go through my things?”

“I didn’t exactly go through your things,” She grins, watching you turn over the label with his name written on neatly. “I just watched you hide it under your bed and got curious… it smells good. Is it cookies? Can I have one?”

When she reaches for the box, you slap the back of her hand, and she sticks her tongue out at you in return. “No! You cannot, you little snoop!”

“Fine! If you won’t let me have a cookie, then you have to go over there. You either give me a cookie, or you give me the satisfaction of seeing you and him smile.” Her arms crossed, her tone annoyed but her words caring, and love shone in her gaze as she stared at you. “Go on. Go over to him. Please.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t already want to, and with her encouragement, you were a weak woman to say no. Downing the rest of your drink for a little liquid courage, you hop to your feet, present clutched in your hands.

Weaving through the room, the bass notes of Mattheo’s custom-made playlist pumped through the room from the speakers, a playlist you might have slightly altered a few days ago to add a couple of songs, just to mix up his usual tastes. Your stomach was twisting nervously, but the alcohol in your veins made for a pleasant buzz as the distance between you both closed. 

After almost taking a ping-pong ball to the eye, courtesy of Theo on the beer-pong table, you cleared the games and settled into the pleasant atmosphere surrounding where the boys had set themselves up for the evening by the fire. When you approached, Tom looked up, frown melting away as the crease between his brows disappeared, and he sat up a little straighter as you approached. 

“Hi, doll,” He murmured, shifting his arm from the armrest of the chair, so that you could take a seat on it instead. That same arm soon wrapped around your waist, his head falling to rest on your shoulder, and your heart skipped a beat within your chest. “Where’ve you been?”

“Over there, with Daph and the girls.” You whisper in reply, balancing the box on your thighs, and pointing through the crowds to the barely visible patch of chairs and sofas you’d all been occupying. He only hummed, squeezing you a little closer. 

“Stay here with me for a while?”

“Sure,” Your voice hardly worked as you spoke, emotions clogging up, and you reached for the gift in your lap. “I have this for you, anyway. I made you those cookies you like so much.”

“You did?” His head lifted, and one of those pretty smiles that made your heart stop clean in your chest was adorning his lips. “The ones with the orange peel and the dark chocolate?”

“Those very ones.” You handed it to him, and he tugged at the ribbon covering the box, fingers flipping under the seals of the paper until it fell openly neatly. Flicking open the catch on the cardboard box, the smell of freshly baked treats filled the air, and he made a rumbling noise of happiness as he plucked on up, and took a bite. As you laughed at him, he took another, pushing it between your lips with a smirk while he chewed. 

He resealed the box, savouring them, as he did all things, and putting them on the table in front of himself. You held the cookie now, eating it slowly, as Draco and Blaise finally seemed to become aware of your presence. 

“I have a question.” Draco started, and your gaze moved to him, brow raising as you took the final bite. “Is Astoria over there talking about me?”

The blond smirked, and you twisted, lifting your legs to sit over Tom, ankles crossing on the opposite arm. “No, no. She’s been recounting a scene from a book.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You know, the fun books. It was really, really hot.” You teased, fanning yourself, and Tom chuckled, reaching over you for his drink, and taking a sip. Instead of putting it back down, he rested the cool glass on your thigh, his free hand coming to sit on your calf, rubbing lightly as you shivered at the touch. “Why? You think you’re better than a good spicy romance?”

“I know I am!” Draco huffed, and Blaise rolled his eyes, watching you wind his best friend up with barely a few words at all. “What book is this?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know…”

“I do want to know! Tell me!” His cheeks were turning pink, all the way up to the tips of his ears. In the spirit of Christmas, you took pity on him, rolling your eyes. 

“I think it was called… Astoria’s Diary.” 

It took a few seconds for it to register in Draco’s mind, and the furious pink turned to an embarrassed red, and he shook his head, eyes narrowed at you. “I despise you.”

“You love me.” You fired back, and he scoffed, but the edges of his lips pulled at a smile, and he looked away to cover it. Settling back a little more, you leaned into the cushion, feeling Tom roll his head across the cushion to lean in your direction. 

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week.” He says, voice low for only you to hear, and your head twists towards him You were close, close enough to pick out the different coloured flecks of colour in his eyes as he looked at you, and the hardly visible steaks of lighter brown that trailed naturally through his dark curls.

“Well, I’ve had detention all week, thanks to a certain someone.” You poked his chest, and he only smirked a little bit, shuffling his head a fraction closer. 

“I needed you, what can I say?”

“You needed someone to keep a lookout while you snuck into the restricted section again. Why did it have to be me?” You scoffed, working to keep the smile on your face as the answer to your own question flickered through your mind. He chose you because he knew you’d drop everything and come, the voice taunted; you buried it under the song playing and the laughter in the room so you didn’t have to think about it...

“Don’t act like you didn’t have fun when we ran.” He chuckled, hand sliding up your leg again, fingers lacing with your own. The same way they had when you’d been caught, and he’d grabbed your hand, the two of you ducking and weaving between stacks, fleeing through the corridors. Laughing and out of breath, he’d clutched your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles just like he was doing now, staring at you with those pretty eyes.

You hadn't been caught, but you had gotten detention for skipping class to go with him, and so you’d spent all five nights of your final week in detention, writing lines. You lifted your free hand, sighing with a nod, and running it through his curls. His eyes fluttered, head tipping back to follow your hand, and a content smile took over his lips. 

You loved to see him like this, to see him so carefree and happy, to see him relax at just your touch. You’d never seen him like this before. The thought that only you could do it to him sent a thrill down your spine, made your thoughts feel hazy and slow, like treacle in your mind, and your nerves tingled. So, why had he never made a move to make it anything more? You’d given him a dozen chances, a dozen more opportunities…

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you this holiday.” He broke your train of thought, eyes opening again to peer up at you, and his lips became a frown as he thought about it. “My father is going to pile on the pressure not that I’m in my graduating year. I can already feel the headache forming right between my eyes.”

“Oh..” You coo, hand slipping down from his hair to rub your thumb over his forehead, the space you know him to get stress headaches the worst, when he works too hard or gets wound up. He just chuckled, eyes sliding shut once again. 

The song changed, and his body tensed underneath you for just a second, before his eyes snapped open, gaze locked on you. “This is my favourite song.”

“Is it?” You mumble, finger still tracing lightly over his skin, and he nods.

“I didn’t think Mattheo put it on the playlist. I asked him, and he very emphatically said no.” 

“Maybe he changed his mind.” Your shrug doesn’t convince him, not as you both hear Mattheo question the song with a stream of curses somewhere in the distance. His lips twitched at the edges, a small smile, but he said nothing else. Instead, he leaned in, your arm going around his shoulders, rubbing softly as his head nestled onto your shoulder, a sigh on his lips. 

It was perfect, just like this. If he could just open his eyes and see, he’d know how wonderful it could be. Nobody knew him like you did, he’d made sure to keep his secrets locked up tight. But over the months of exchanging letters, and candle-lit nights in the library, he’d bore so much of his soul to you. 

Deep, wounded parts, that you’d tried to put back together. 

Soft, tender parts that he protected so valiantly, but trusted you with. 

Sweet, loving parts, that never saw the light of day, unless you were together.

It was impossible, surely, that he didn’t know. He might keep his feelings locked up tight, but you didn’t hide yours very well at all. As you sat here now, fingers weaving through his hair, lips tracing his temple as you whispered nonsense to him about your day, his head on your shoulder, that he didn’t know. Even a man like Tom Riddle couldn't miss it, right?

You just wanted to make him happy, but he didn’t feel the same. 

With a heart-aching sigh, you ran your fingers through his curls one more time. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your night. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your Christmas. You would not be one of those girls who gave in to their feelings, and crumbled at the feet of a man who didn’t return her affections. 

Sitting up some more, he grumbled at the disruption, blinking his eyes back open as he lifted his head again. “I’m… I’m going to go dance, and play some games, okay?”

“Alright,” He smiled, patting your thigh and lifting his drink away. “Have fun. I’ll probably leave soon. If I don’t see you again, just know I’ll be thinking of you over these holidays. We’ll write again.”

His words send a rush of heat to your cheeks, a tumble of nerves through your stomach, and you could only nod. One more chance, one more chance to make a move…

“Merry Christmas, Tommy,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek. A kiss that was purposefully close to the edge of his mouth, a kiss that purposefully lingered just a second too long as you pulled away slowly, giving him a chance to turn his head, to close the gap, to kiss you—

But he didn’t, he only smiled. “Merry Christmas, doll.”

So, you stand. You brush it off. You brush off the moment, and the feelings, and all the disappointment and heartbreak that came with it. 

But I can’t do it anymore. 

We’ve been housemates for seven years, we’ve been friends for half of those, and I’ve been in love with you for months. 

But you don’t love me. Mattheo says you do, says you’re just stupid when it comes to feelings. But, even you couldn't miss how I feel about you.

So, I’m letting you go. 

New Year, New Me, New Heart.

“No, your dorm is that way.” You giggle, Mattheo’s arm over your shoulder, pushing him in the direction of the boy’s dorms and pointing. “My dorm is this way!”

“No, you’re wrong!” He mutters, shaking his head dramatically. “Boys to the left,” He says, pointing right, “Girls to the right, because girls are always right!”

“Well, I won’t argue with you there.” You grin, spinning him around. “Wait, now I’m confused. Who’s dorm were we going to again?”

A few too many shots, a few more drinks than your limit at the beer-pong table, and as the last of the party was dying down, you and Mattheo were attempting to stumble back to your dorms. “Theo’s.”

“Right. But why are we going to Theo’s dorm?”

“Because he’s my friend,” Mattheo said. “And also, his bed is next to mine.” Another fit of laughter, drunken giggles melting away, and the two of you collapsed down against the wall, heads tipped back to the stone as amusement took over. When you finally caught your breaths once again, he was smiling, eyes sparkling in that unique Matty-way. Kicking his legs out before himself, he sighed. “Maybe I will just sleep here.”

“You can’t sleep here.”

“Why?” He pouted, and you searched through your foggy mind for a reason. 

“Because you have to sleep in a bed.” Is what you settled on, shrugging your shoulders, even if you were getting a little bit too comfy against the stone too. 

“Can I sleep in your bed?” He wiggled his brows, smirking, before burping, and you giggled again. 

“No, you may not.”

“Why?” He whined, kicking one leg like a toddler in a tantrum. “You have fluffy pillows.”

“And you have sheets that haven’t been washed in months.” Your nose screwed up, and he let out a dramatic, wounded sound, like a soldier who had just been shot in a war movie. 

“That was cold.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Not as cold as the frozen Earth Tom would bury my wee little body in if I spent the night at your dorm.”

You didn’t respond, the mention of his name was like a bucket of ice over your head. Not exactly sobering, but shocking. 

“I’m saying he would murder me.”

“Yes, I understood.”

“You didn’t laugh.” He pouted, and you chuckled for his benefit. “No, it’s not real. Now I feel like I begged for it.”

“You did.”

“You suck.”

“You swallow.” You sighed, and he groaned once again, another argument lost. His head rolled to your shoulder, his body slumping into relaxation. 

“So… what is the deal with you and my brother?” His lips twisted as he thought about it, but he looked up at you curiously, frown only deepening at the sad look on your face. 

“There is no deal.” You shrug, “He doesn’t want me like that. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah,” He snorts, “And the sky isn’t blue.”

“I’m serious, Matty. I’ve given him a hundred chances. He could’ve made a move anytime. I haven’t exactly kept my feelings to myself, all you fools can see my heart dripping and bleeding on my sleeve. He knows, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.” Your lungs burned for air at the end of your speech, and you took a deep breath, staring ahead at the chipping bricks in an attempt to avoid tears. “Why doesn’t he want me, Matty?”

“He does,” Mattheo mumbled, taking your hand in his and squeezing. “He’s just a fucking moron. But, he’s also scared. You know, you’re pretty much all he talks about? And, I never saw him smile so much as he did during the summer, when he’d receive your letters. He’d get all anxious and fidgety every day, waiting for the mail owl to arrive. He’s never going to make the first move. He’d rather suffer for all his life but have you like this, than risk losing you entirely.”

The words felt like a warming blanket and an ice-cold lake. Comforting and terrifying, sweet and burning, all at the same time. 

Mattheo huffed a laugh, “Maybe you should write him a love letter.”

“Maybe I should…” You whisper, drunken thoughts taking over, and his head snapped up. 

“I was joking.”

“I’m not. That’s a good idea. I should write him a letter, and tell him that I’m moving on.” You brushed your legs off as you stood, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet, determined.

“Okay, that’s not what a love letter is. That’s so far from what I said—”

“Let’s go!” You grabbed his wrist, tugging him along behind you as you made your way through the halls. 

“Now? Why are we doing it now? We should be sleeping now!” His protests fell on deaf ears as you dragged him along. Throwing open the door to your room, Daphne was already asleep, still in her party dress, face down on her pillow, out cold from the night’s festivities and snoring.

Mattheo collapsed onto your bed, rolling onto his side and clutching a fluffy cushion to his chest as he curled into a ball. 

“I’ll just wait here, then.” He yawned through his words, but you were too busy to care, scrambling for a pot of ink and some new parchment. Taking a seat at your desk, you stared at the paper, quill hovering, ready to write.

So, I will spend the end of this year away from you. You say we’ll write, but I don’t want to. 

Only write to me, Tom, if you feel the same.  If not, don’t. Let me heal, and when we come back in the New Year, I promise, nothing will change except for my heart. 

We will still be friends, best friends, and we’ll never talk about it again.

I will wait for you.

Finishing the letter, you sighed at it, the ink drying and immortalising your words onto the page. Sitting before you was the sum total of what sat in your heart, and your mind. Laid out and ready to go, your hands trembled a little as you read it over, and over, to be sure. 

But you had to do this, you had to give this letter to him, to alleviate the strain on your heart, to finally have some closure. Whether he felt the same or not, you’d have relief. Folding it carefully, you searched a strip of wax seal lighting the end and waiting for it to get hot, drips of Slytherin green filling into a pool that overlapped the edge of your paper. When there was enough, you stamped it carefully, sealing it shut as the wax cooled. 

Taking a look behind you, you caught sight of a sleeping Mattheo, his jaw hanging open, drooling onto your favourite throw pillow, half tucked under your blankets from where he’s only bothered to cover his legs. Peeling away the wax seal, you walked over to him, shaking his shoulder, until he awoke with a huff and a groan, whining as he sat up. 

“I was dreaming.”

“I wrote the letter.” You show him the proof, and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, glancing from it, to you, and back. “You have to give it to him.”

“Now?”

“No! Not now. Tomorrow. After we get off the train.” He blinked a little more, waking up from his power nap and taking the paper from you. Flipping it over in his hands, he inspected Tom’s name across the front, no address, and raised his brows. 

“Why don’t you mail it?”

“That’ll take days, and I don’t want to leave it up to chance. I need you to give it to him, tomorrow. I know you’ll be swamped with everything your father expects of you both this time of year, events and frivolities and all, but you have to. I don’t want it getting lost amongst other letters and Christmas cards, and such.” Your hands clasped together before you, blinking at him pleadingly, and hoping your puppy-dog eyes were half as good as his.

He sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering to himself as he stood.

“Please, Matty.”

“Fine. I’ll give it to him.” He caved, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

“Tomorrow? After you get off the train?”

“Yes. I will give Tom the letter… tomorrow.”

Yours,

If you want me, 

(y/n) x

Tom double-checked his bags, sighing as he zipped up the piece of luggage he’d actually have access to on the train, everything he needed to survive a six-hour train journey. A knock sounded from the door, a signature one that only Mattheo ever used, excessively long and irritating, and the door swung open a second later to reveal his brother. 

Placing his carry-on down on the bed beside his own, Mattheo slumped out on his freshly-stripped bed. “You took your bags to the carriage already?”

“I got up early.”

“Surprising, I thought I’d have to drag you out of your bed this morning considering how much you drank last night.” He gave his brother a look, a single brow raised, and Mattheo just huffed. 

“It’s called having fun, you should try it sometime.”

Tom only rolled his eyes, gaze scanning across the bag Mattheo had abandoned, snagging on the letter sticking out of one pocket. T— was all that was visible. It might have been a card, that someone had addressed it to ‘Theo’ instead of Mattheo, but everyone called him ‘Matt’ if they wanted a nickname, to avoid confusion with Nott.

Curiosity ate at him, and nudging the bag subtly revealed just enough more to show an ‘O’. 

Definitely Tom, then. Mattheo was carrying a letter for him, and had not delivered it. Before he could pluck it from the pocket, his brother was sitting up, reaching for his bag and getting to his feet, swinging the letter out of his reach inadvertently. 

“Ready to go?”

“Is that letter for me?” Tom burst instead, making another move for the bag. His suspicions were only confirmed when Mattheo shifted his body, pulling the arm carrying the bag away from him, behind his body and out of Tom’s reach. “Why do you have it? When did it arrive?”

Mattheo turned casually, looking down at it, patting it and pushing it back into the bag, deeper. Tom recognised that handwriting now, though, and the urgency swelled. “Uh… last night, I think. But I was a little drunk, so…”

“Why didn’t you give it to me?” Tom pressed, biting his tongue from yelling at his brother, and Mattheo just shrugged. 

“Figured I’d give it to you on the train, or something. Or when we got home. It’s just a letter.”

“Yeah…” Tom could only hum in response, his mind spinning a little. Everyone had exchanged gifts and goodbyes last night, before the party. For exactly this reason, to avoid the morning rush to the train, to avoid the hassle in the morning. “But— I saw her last night. Why wouldn't she just give it to me then? Or mail it to me?” 

The questions were ceaseless, almost making Tom dizzy as he tried to think them through, and Mattheo could only shrug, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself. 

“I don’t know, Tom. She just came to me, and asked me to give you that letter because she didn’t want it to get lost amongst other letters, or take too long, or something like that.” It was a small lie, really, fabricated from aspects of the truth.

“So, it’s important, then! It’s obviously important if she couldn't risk it getting lost, if it had to be hand-delivered! I should read it.” Just like that, Tom stepped right into Mattheo’s trap. Now all he had to do was pull the pin, and let the steel jaws snap shut. Yes, it could potentially backfire hugely, but Mattheo was looking on the positive side for this. 

“We have to go, Tom. Everyone else has probably already left for the train.” Mattheo swung his bag again, making his point, and kicked Tom’s suitcase from where it sat beside the door towards him to pick up. “Let’s go.”

Tom sighed, grabbing his bags and taking a few steps after him, and didn’t even make it over the threshold of the door before he gave in. His bags dropped from his hands, and planted on his hips instead. “I’m going to read it.”

“Tom—”

“Give me the letter.” He held out his pal, and Mattheo tipped his head to the side, but pressed his lips together to hide a grin. “I’ll catch up, you go. I’ll read it and I’ll catch up, it’s only a letter, can’t take that long.”

He lunged for Mattheo's bag, snatching the crisply pressed paper from the pocket before his brother could stop him. As he turned away, he missed Mattheo’s victorious smile. “Alright, I’ll take your trunk down. Don’t be long, or you’ll miss the train.” And you’ll miss her, were Mattheo’s unspoken words, as he grabbed Tom’s suitcase and disappeared, leaving him alone. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Tom’s hand shook a little. The paper felt like it weighed a thousand tons. There was so much unspoken mystery behind it that Tom was sure whatever this letter said, it was not their usual correspondence. Not the chatty, friendly, borderline flirty letters they’d send each other when apart, this was more. 

Sliding his thumb neatly under the wax seal he was so familiar with, Tom popped open the letter, unfolding it carefully and flipping it around to read. 

His gaze scanned over the paper, lips flicking up at the use of the nickname he only allowed you to use, the swirl of your handwriting that he loved so much. The smile didn’t last long, however, and neither did the breath in his lungs as his chest seized. He read it.

Over and over again, he read the letter. 

The minutes melted past as he absorbed what it said, until he could read the letter word for word without looking at it, tattooed into his mind now like a brand. With trembling fingers, he folded the letter back up carefully, lifting the paper to his lips as his eyes slid shut. 

His heart was pounding, more so than he’d ever felt. Tom was not one for rash decisions and sudden jumps, everything was calculated and thought through and planned. But this, this was you. This is just what you did, forced him to let go of routine and be spontaneous, forced him to be carefree, to loosen the grip he had on the reigns, to show him he wouldn't fall apart at the slightest breeze. 

He smiled against the letter, thoughts of you flicking through his mind. 

And then a clock chimed, and he jumped violently within as he was rushed back to reality in a split second. The clock in the common room chimed loudly, echoing through the empty dorms and halls. 

Rushing to his feet, Tom opened his bag, tucking the letter safely inside one of his books to preserve it, to tuck it inside the box of letters from you that was tucked under his bed at home. You doubted him, his feelings, unsure he’d kept that first letter, when in reality, he’d kept every single one.

Every letter, every note, even the silly little joke you scribbled on torn-off pieces of paper and threw at him in class, he kept them all.

Zipping his bag back up and grabbing it, he had no time to spare, racing to the chimes of the clock through the castle, to the front gates where the final carriage was leaving. 

It felt too long. Too long as the horses plodded through the snow, too long as the wheel scrolled slowly, and his foot tapped agitatedly on the floor in a way he never allowed himself to do. His thumbnail was between his teeth, flicking between the frost-covered ground and his bag, wondering if it would actually be faster to run there himself. 

Ahead, the train sounded its horn. The final warning for all students to begin boarding and settling in, because they’d be departing soon. 

You watched as the trunks were beginning loaded onto the train, all to be collected when you arrived in London, only letting out a breath of relief as Mattheo rounded the corner, finally joining your group. 

“Matty! About time, we were worried you’d miss the train.” Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he sighed, a little out of breath, and hugged you back once he dropped the two bags in his hands. Nobody followed him, and your brows furrowed, pulling back, “Where’s Tom?”

“He’s probably already on the train, sulking somewhere. He’s never late.” Theo snickered, and you rolled your eyes, smacking him across the shoulder for his joke. 

“Blaise is inside holding a cabin for us, is Tom not sitting with us?” Enzo questioned, and you turned to Mattheo, waiting for answers. 

“He’ll be here, trust me.”

“He’s late?” Draco asked, quickly followed by Enzo and Theo, all discussing it. Regulus stayed quiet, smoking and trying to hide it from being seen, but his expression was just as concerned as everyone else’s. 

The chatter continued on, by your worry didn’t cease, checking up and down the platform as people bustled and crowded it. Saying their final goodbyes and giving out hugs, climbing on and off the train as they all wished one another Merry Christmas, and being unable to see either end was causing your anxiety to rocket higher. 

The train horn blared again, and students began to board. “Mattheo, seriously, where is he—” Just like that, you saw him, the busy platform parting to let him through, the look on his face as terrifying as ever, and people moved out of his way as he made his way towards your group. 

“Told you he’d be here,” Mattheo smirked, and you raised a brow. 

“The hell did you say to him this morning, Matt?” Regulus questions. 

“He looks mad,” Draco murmured. 

“He looks like he’s plotting.” Enzo corrected.

Every step closer rose the tension as Tom finally looked up, his sights setting on you, and his jaw clenched. Brows drawn in, he did look like he was plotting, like a thousand thoughts were racing through his mind that he couldn't sort through. 

“Hey, man. We thought you were gonna’ miss the—” Draco’s words cut off at your squeak, as Tom stepped closer, never stopping the movements of his body until he was cupping your cheeks, his mouth descending upon your own. 

You were almost knocked backwards from the force of it, your hands gripping at his shoulders as he bent you over backwards, a kiss so intense your knees almost went weak. 

It was desperate, you could barely keep up, kissing back as best you could through your shock, until it wore off enough to reciprocate. Wrapping one arm around his neck, your other slipped to his face, his own hands making their way down, to band around your waist and pull you in closer, until your bodies were flush. 

His tongue licked into your mouth, a sigh escaping you as he did, and your heart pounded against your heart, the same way he was doing, felt through his jumper and layers. The boys were whistling, cheering and hooting, and if you weren’t so happy you’d have been embarrassed by the show they were making, and the attention they were no doubt drawing. 

When he finally pulled back, you panted softly, his forehead resting on your own, blinking his eyes open to meet your gaze. 

“Can I write to you regardless?” He mumbled, voice rough and tense with emotion, and your brows furrowed. 

“Wh— What?” 

He leaned in, not helping you clear your dazed mind at all as he kissed you again, and again, until you were smiling, fingers clenched so tight in his coat that your knuckles were white, just to stay upright. 

You pecked his lips once more, chasing him as he pulled back, and the train horn sounded, a final warning, but you didn’t care. “You know how I feel now. You don’t have to wait for my reply. You can be assured that I will miss you dearly over these two weeks, and I am already counting the minutes until I see you again. But can I write to you, still?”

As the realisation set in, your face flamed, jaw dropping a little bit, and he wasted no opportunity, kissing you softly. “You read my letter.”

He only nodded, a gentle chuckle onto your mouth as your lips brushed. “You’d leave it to Mattheo to deliver? He’d probably lose it at a McDonalds, trying to get a Big Mac before my father saw him, on the way home. 

Your laughter was sweet, a puffed-out sound as his hands smoothed up and down your back. “I’d love to get more letters from you, Tommy. I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you in person, but I was scared. I thought I’d made my feelings for you obvious, and you didn’t reciprocate, so I had to write that letter. To get it out, to finalise it all.”

“I like to consider myself a smart man, you know. When it comes to you, clearly, I’m a fool. You leave me speechless, and without proper thoughts, every time. All I can think about is how pretty you are, and how much I like you, despite my best efforts not to.” 

The declaration was so utterly Tom, to hate being in love even if he loved it. 

“For Salazar’s sake, what have you done, Matt?” Theo cussed, and you twisted your head to look at him. “Shakespeare over here is going to be writing sonnets for the rest of the year. None of us will stand a chance with any other girls when he’s showing us up, standing under windows, yelling his love to the moon.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring their nonsense. Tom did the same, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, and leaving a kiss there.

“I’ll look forward to your letters, just as I did in the summer.” You whisper, pulling away from him as the platform clears, most students already aboard now.

“And after?” Tom questions, “May I still write you letters if I, too, find myself struggling to confess my feelings in person?”

“Oh, God,” Enzo muttered. “He’s going to be writing love letters all year. He’s making the rest of us sound like cavemen. Me, you, bed, now.” He grunted, smacking a fist in his chest. You giggled as Tom rolled his eyes. 

“We should get on the train.” You whisper, taking pity on the others and untangling yourself from his arms. 

Tom took his bag again, and your own. With a final kiss on your cheek, he walked away to the door of the carriage, letting the rest of you follow behind. Mattheo fell into step beside you, smirking as he bumped your hips with his own.

“So, should I tell my mother and father that they have a new daughter-in-law this holiday, or wait ‘til the next.”

His teasing made you blush again, cheeks already red in the cold, warming you under all those layers. “You’re a filthy traitor. You gave him my letter early.”

“I said I’d give it to him ‘tomorrow’. Never agreed to the after the train part.” He tutted, proud of himself. “Always pay attention to the words of a contract. My dear brother taught me that. You never have to break a promise, if you’re smart with your words.”

That sounded exactly like something your man would say, your eyes rolling to the Heavens. 

Mattheo leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper as the pair of you climbed the steps. “You never have to break your heart either, if you’re smart about who you give it to.”

[haxkattpress]

Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered

I'm so excited to finally share this bind of one of my all time favorite fics! Thanks to lettered's generous binding policy, I decided to go all out.

This bind has a foiled cover and spine, hand sewn silk endbands, and thirteen custom chapter headers. It was also my first time rounding and backing.

You can find more pictures and information about my process under the cut.

For the cover and spine, I recreated the design of Beasts of the Field (1902) by William J. Long.

I wanted something that captured both the whimsy and maturity of the story, and this cover fit my vision perfectly. It also gave me the opportunity to recreate another antique cover from the public domain.

Unfortunately, the design was a bit complicated for my Cameo 4, so I was unable to fill the lines in. You can also tell that the foil did not adhere properly near the bottom, so the flowers are lighter than I would like them to be.

Because of the trouble I was having with my Cameo, I decided to foil the spine by hand. I deeply regretted this decision two hours later, and it took me four hours to finish foiling. My wrist still hurts!

Sewing the headbands was my absolute favorite part. I was encouraged to try them by a lovely binder on Instagram, and I ended up completely addicted. I splurged on some fancy silk thread so I could give this fic the royal treatment it deserves! I think they look like beautiful little caterpillars.

As for the rounding and backing... I'm not going to talk about it. Nightmare. Lots of nervous sweating. Emotional agony. Next topic!

I worked on the typeset back at the beginning of January when I had some time off, and it took me a solid week of obsessive editing to complete. My sister suggested that I use Harry and Draco's patronuses for the chapter art, but there unfortunately aren't many public domain illustrations of deer and foxes playing together.

It was at that point that I also decided that I wanted the animals to match the respective ages of Harry and Draco and the tone of each chapter. For the 13 chapters I ended up editing 25 different illustrations together. The bulk of these are taken from vintage versions of Bambi and Reynard the Fox. It's possible that a few stock images from 1980s nature books snuck in there, but I did my best to keep them all pre 1925.

I'm not a skilled editor, and some of these are worse than others, but I'm quite proud of what I was able to cobble together. On the final page I put a young fox and deer running off together. I wanted it to seem like Harry and Draco's inner children had been freed.

I'm a bit embarrassed to say that this bind took me about 4-5 months to complete! I started in early January, and went wildly off track learning how to round, back, and sew headbands. And then I was hit by some killer creative block that only lifted last week!

There are still many things I could improve on, but I'm so proud of everything that I learned and accomplished with this bind! A big thank you to lettered for inspiring me with such a wonderful story. <3

[honey-flustered]

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

[attackurheart88]

hi! I just had this idea of Illumi going to introduce his girlfriend/fiancée to his family, except that she's a spoiled queen bee regina george-ish/cher horowitz like (somehow, they managed to be a couple). Idk really, the image got in my head and I thought it would be funny to see the Zoldycks reaction lmao

When Illumi made mention of his future wife, surprise and disbelief exploded in his family’s eyes. They intended him to follow family traditions and continue the Zoldyck line of course, but when it came to finding a partner the family was sure an arranged match would be needed.

To think there was a woman on this Earth who not only found attraction with Illumi but Illumi himself approved of was a huge shock.

Silva expected the woman to be strong and bear powerful children for the Zoldyck family.

Kikyo believed the woman’s beauty was what attracted her son.

Zeno felt pity for the woman as she must’ve been submissive and easy for Illumi to control.

The traits of being soft-spoken, delicate, graceful, and well-educated gathered in everyone's mind.

But…

A young woman dressed fashionably in black and leopard strutting into the Zoldyck family mansion as if she owned it and Illumi trailing behind holding a cat was far from their predictions.

It took a lot for Kikyo to hold in her anger and not faint at the sight.

“Father, Mother, I’d like to introduce you to my fiancee.”

A displeased grunt from his fiancee and Illumi was quick to add to his sentence.

“And her cat, Cassandra.”

Silva didn’t respond at first. He just stared at Camilla, his steely gaze lingering on her Prada dress, the excessive jewelry, and—unfortunately—the very loud sound of her heels.

Was this the best his son could do? Did he fail as a father somewhere? Perhaps he broke him too early.

You completely unbothered, smiled brightly and stuck out your hand

“It's very nice to meet you Mr and Mrs Zoldyck. You have a lovely home.”

He looked at her hand as though it might bite him, and then—after a long, uncomfortable silence—gave a small, formal nod.

“I’m glad you think so-” Kikyo started.

“But it could be redecorated don't you think?” you continued.

“What?”

Did she just insult the state of their home.

“Black and white is so outdated. Perhaps a shade of red or purple might do. What do you think Illumi?”

“I’ll keep it in mind when building a place for you.”

Silva and Zeno exchanged glances. It was clear this woman found a way to exert control over Illumi. Such a thing was unspeakable. Either she used an ability of some sort or she truly is that influential. It was dangerous either way.

Taking initiative Zeno spoke up. “Are you aware of our families occupation?”

“Of course, you're assassins, right? Illumi has told me all about it. I promise I'm more than able to continue the business-

A pin was thrown in your direction aimed for the neck but you were able to grab it swiftly.

“Is this a gift? It's beautiful. I have a dress in this same color to pair it with,” you explained excitedly while looking over the jeweled hairpin.

Kikyo frowned at her failure to inflict damage.

“How was it the two of you met?” Silva asked wanting to keep things on track.

Illumi glanced at you before answering. “I met her while completing a job. She was arguing with my target and stabbed him in a fit of rage.”

“I see. Was that the first time you’ve killed someone?”

You adjusted in your seat and gave a small sigh of impatience. “Am I the only one who thinks this kind of talk is boring? For such an infamous family I was expecting much more entertainment.” You examined your perfectly manicured nails.

“Honestly you're just like Illumi, Sliva was it? Much too serious.”

Illumi’s lip twitched at the playful jab. Silva's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

“What do you do for fun around here? I mean, besides, you know, the whole... killing people thing."

A tense silence followed.

“Nothing?”

“Has anyone ever heard about hobbies? Knitting, cooking, reading, yoga? For such a well-off family one would expect that you should have a spa day once in a while. A family day at the beach. Just relaxing. You know, take a break from all the stabbing."

“Relaxing?” Silva questioned in disbelief.

“Yes. Surely it must be tiring being all serious and stabby all the time. I know a guy who is amazing at massages. I could give you his number. You look like you need one.”

A chuckle could be heard from Zeno.

“You’re rather amusing. I can see why Illumi is so taken with you.”

“I always aim to please, Grandpa.”

Zeno raised an eyebrow at the endearment. But didn't say anything in fact, he seemed rather pleased.

The evening continued that way. Despite the family making plenty of attempts to threaten or test you. You continued to exceed their expectations and bring humor and warmth into the home.

[mountain-maiden]

Working Hard (Hardly Working)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

WC: 4k

Summary: Joel helps you out at the gym and you thank him in the locker room ;)

Content: 18+ MDNI, slightly unhealthy relationship with food (blink and you’ll miss it), oral f!receiving, Joel Miller is a munch, unprotected piv, cream pie, reader is able to lift weights & incline walk, Joel is able to lift reader.

a/n: I wrote this instead of going to the gym :/ If you hate it please don't tell me 😘

You push open the doors to the gym, the familiar smell of metal and sweat invading your lungs as you step inside. You don’t necessarily enjoy working out, but you do enjoy sweet treats, and that makes working out a necessity. So, a few weeks ago, you begrudgingly got yourself a membership the gym closest to where you live, which happened to be Rock Hard Fitness. Unsurprisingly, it was an extremely male dominated environment.

After swiping your key card, you drop your stuff in the locker room and head to the dreaded cardio floor. You mildly dislike working out, but you absolutely hate cardio, and unfortunately for you, the weight floor is packed full of gym bros and meatheads who are not pleased to share their space with beginners who aren’t “on their level.” Despite the unwelcoming atmosphere, you can’t stand another day of incline walking; today you're going to lift weights or die trying.

From the cardio deck, you watch the people lifting, taking stock of the machines being used least and trying to pick out any attractive guys you can distract yourself with during your warmup. You really don’t enjoy the typical gym bro look, which means your efforts are most often for naught, but today someone different catches your eye. He’s definitely older than the average guy in the gym, broad shoulders, meaty thighs—you're basically drooling while watching him. Is it wrong to objectify people in the gym? Absolutely. Does that stop you from thirsting over the mystery gym dilf? Absolutely not.

After deeming yourself officially warmed up, you leave the safety of the cardio deck, jumping straight into the shark tank. Immediately, the booming bass of the speakers is leaking through your headphones, no longer allowing you to enjoy Kesha and Britney in peace. Great. You just take the headphones off, leaving them in your locker with the rest of your stuff before spying the gym equivalent of a unicorn: a squat rack, completely open.

You make a beeline for the rack and immediately set your sweatshirt and water bottle on the ground beside it, staking your claim. Not having to fight for a place to lift takes away half the battle of the weight deck; you breathe a sigh of relief as you survey the rest of the floor.

Now your only problem is that it’s been months since you last lifted, and you have absolutely no idea what weight to start with. You know you've lost strength, but surely you’re still able to lift your warm-up weight, right? The weights are added, and you line yourself up, taking a couple of breaths to steady yourself before standing up, moving the bar from the rack to your shoulders. Immediately, the weight is not what you remembered it being—much heavier, in fact—but you’re not about to immediately rerack and take weight off; that would be humiliating.

So, you steady yourself and dip down, enjoying the familiar strain of your muscles. After the first rep, you’re feeling alright, you can definitely handle this weight, you’ll just do less repetitions. You continue, reveling in the burn of your legs as you struggle to push yourself back up as you complete the first set. You’ve done the 6 reps you decided on, but you’re feeling good and you’re pretty confident you can do another so you go back down, determined to complete a seventh and immediately you can tell it’s a mistake. 

You get stuck halfway back up, no matter how hard you strain, the weight won’t budge. You’ve never had to bail before, always having a spotter, you realize you don’t even know how to safely drop the weight. This is it, you’re going to humiliate yourself your first day in this gym and you’ll never be able to show your face again. Your legs are shaking, you’re panting with the effort to hold yourself up when your saving grace arrives. 

You hear the low drawl of a southern accent and suddenly the weight has been halved, allowing you to stand up and rerack the weight. You turn around to thank your savior and are struck speechless when you find yourself face to face with mystery gym dilf. 

“You alright there?” He asks, eyebrows scrunched with concern. 

“Yeah, uh, yes, thank you, “ you answer breathlessly. 

“S’really no trouble, can’t believe nobody helped you sooner,” He huffs, clearly offended on your behalf. Your face heats as you realize this means he saw how long you were stuck for. 

“Well, everyone’s wrapped up in themselves, I guess that’s half the point of coming here,” you shrug, unbothered by your fellow gym goer’s lack of concern for your wellbeing. 

“Gym bros,” you sigh in unison, and immediately burst into laughter. 

“Can’t stand gym folk, but I stopped workin’ construction and now I actually gotta workout,” He explains, as if he needs to prove he isn’t one of the aforementioned gym bros.

“Me too,” you sigh, and burst into laughter at the skeptical look he gives you.

“No, I’m a barista, I just make myself too many drinks to not be working out,” you laugh and watch as his expression shifts to one of amusement. 

“You’ve got jokes,” he chuckles, “I was wonderin’ what someone as pretty as you was doin’ workin’ construction.”

Your face heats at his compliment, “What? Your construction crew isn’t full of beautiful women?”

“Trust me darlin’, if you were on my crew I wouldn’t ‘a switched to management.” He leans up against the rack, watching you closely for your reaction to his bold comment. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were coming on to me,” you smirk, watching the tips of his ears go pink despite him initiating the flirting. 

“Is that okay?” He asks, boldness suddenly replaced with a self conscious demeanor, “I wasn’t aimin’ to make ya uncomfortable.”

“That is more than okay,” you try to remember his name and realize he never gave it. 

“Joel,” He sticks his hand out and you hold back a small laugh at the formality. 

You give him your name and when he repeats it, testing the word in his mouth, you don’t think it’s ever sounded better. 

“Well, I was just wrappin’ up,” He scratches the back of his head, as if he is unsure how to proceed now that you’ve actually introduced eachother. 

“If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind spotting me?” You ask, searching his face for any sign of displeasure, “I mean, I think we both know I could use one.”

He laughs at that. “Not any trouble at all, darlin’.”

Your breath hitches at the nickname. You’d never been one for petnames but the way it sounds coming from his mouth, his low southern drawl, the slight gravel of his voice, it has you fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. You look up after realizing you’d been silent just a little to long and spot the amused glint in his eyes. 

“Alright, 2nd times the charm I guess,” you say before positioning yourself beneath the bar again, this time with the security of Joel’s warmth behind your back. 

You lift the bar off the rack and hinge down, enjoying the familiar burn of pushing back up, it’s on about your third rep that you begin to struggle, taking slightly longer to straighten out. It’s at this point when Joel steps a little closer, not touching the bar but readying himself to step in. 

“Atta girl,” Joel encourages as you push yourself up, the praise sending a jolt of heat to your core. 

You need to lock in, you can’t get distracted because an attractive older man is giving you the praise your father never did. But, when you complete your next rep and he murmurs more encouragement, you swear he has to be fucking with you. There is no way he isn’t aware of the effect his words are having on you. 

You do your second to last rep and he leans forward slightly, “Such a good girl.”

You damn near drop the weight, and when you complete the set and rerack the bar, you whip around and are met with Joel’s smirking face. He definitely knew what he was doing, and your look of annoyance seemed to only further his amusement. 

“Somethin’ wrong?” His eyes widen as he feigns innocence. Fine, two can play that game. 

“My form feels a little off, can you tell me if it looks alright?” Before he gets a chance to respond you’re already dropped down in a body weight squat, just close enough that your ass brushes the front of his shorts. You know if he didn’t want this he’d take a step back, but to your surprise he stays right where he is and you can feel the bulge in his shorts growing with each rep. 

“Form looks alright to me, darlin’,” Joel rolls his eyes at your antics, “You grind on any man who spots you?”

“Just the ones I like,” you throw back before turning around, watching the spark of amusement in his eyes give way to darkening pupils. 

“You want a hand with that?” You gesture to the growing outline of his cock against the confines of his shorts, “or a mouth?”

“I wouldn’t object,” Joel smirks, taking your hand and practically dragging you to the locker room. 

You find an empty changing stall and you are immediately tearing at Joel’s clothes trying to remove the layers keeping you from the broad shoulders and thick thighs you knew he was hiding. Eventually you remember the reason you came in here and drop to your knees, pawing at his boxers. 

“Fuck darlin’, ya gotta let me taste you,” Joel lifts you from your knees and sets you on the bench with the ease of someone moving a misbehaved kitten. He drops to his knees and that’s when you register what he means. 

You freeze, shock apparent in your features because Joel stops pulling down your shorts to look at you, “Are you comfortable with this?” He asks, searching your features for an answer, “If you want to be done just say the word darlin’, no hard feelings.”

“No! Trust me I am more than comfortable with this,” you jump to reassure, “I’ve just never met a guy that actually wants to give me head.”

He scoffs before continuing his efforts to get your tight gym shorts off, “Idiots.”

You almost laugh at how immediately he’d resumed his work once he’d been given the go ahead. He groans when he sees the wet spot on your panties, a plain cotton thong, and before you have time to feel embarrassed he’s ripped them down your legs and is devouring you with a vigour you’ve never experienced. 

Joel eats pussy like he’s starved, lapping at your slick like its the best thing he’s ever tasted, and if you asked him, he’d say it was. You thread your fingers through his hair and he groans when you pull. 

“Tell me what you like,” He murmurs, parting with your pussy for the few precious seconds it takes to get the words out. 

“What?” Your face scrunches with confusion and pleasure as his lips create suction against your clit. 

“When I do something you like, tell me. When I do something you don’t like, tell me.” He directs before returning to his mouth to your pussy, swiping small circles around your clit with his tongue. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you moan with complete disregard for the extremely thin door separating you from a heavily populated public space. 

He switches from languid movements against your clit to lapping along your slit, never fully breeching the entrance, teasing you realize. 

“Don’t tease,” you manage to get out, a tug of his hair accompanying your directive as you attempt to signal his efforts should return to your clit. 

“Is there something you want?” He looks up, a smug smile painting his face. Of course he was on his knees and you were still going to be the one begging. 

“What you were doing before,” you really don’t want to explicitly state what you want.

“You can grind on me in a public gym but you can’t tell me how you want your pussy eaten?” Joel chuckles, blatantly amused at your sudden prudeness.

“Stop being an asshole, you know what I want,” you know getting annoyed with the only man who’s been eager to give you head for wanting you to tell him how to do it best is completely unreasonable, but you also know he is purposefully being difficult. 

“Here, I’ll even tell you what to say,” a mischevious glint appears in his eyes, “‘Joel, please lick my clit’, that’s all you gotta say darlin’”.

Your eyes widen at the crude language and he chuckles at your shocked expression, as if you weren’t already getting eaten out in the locker room of a public gym. You figure a few crass words couldn’t dig you into any deeper trouble. 

You take a deep breathe and meet Joel’s eyes, irises taken over by the black abyss of his pupils. “Joel, please lick my clit.”

He supresses a shudder and you see his left hand reach down to palm his cock through his shorts before he smiles, “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

He dives in, and immediately his tongue is working over your clit, drawing figure eights and circles, never letting the pattern become predictable, never letting you get used to the stimulation.

You moan as his tongue works its magic, and his hands reach up and grasp your breasts, squeezing and massaging. Eventually, he slides a finger along your slit, and without warning, plunges it into you. You groan at the intrusion and buck against his mouth. He doesn’t stop licking, instead sliding his free hand down to try to relieve some pressure from his cock, palming himself desperately through his shorts to your whimpers and moans.

It isn't long before you feel the knot in your stomach start to build, and your breath starts to catch in your throat. 

"Oh fuck, Joel I'm gonna cum," You warn him, 

Joel groans into your pussy as he continues to lick and suck at your juices, speeding up his actions.

You're moaning and gasping, and suddenly your orgasm hits you. You buck against Joel's face and cry out. He moans at the feeling of you clenching around his fingers as he works you through your high, lapping more gently at your clit as you shudder through the waves of pleasure.

"Wow," you heave once you are able to catch you’re breath.

"Good?"

"Fucking great."

You lay there catching your breath, a satisfied smile still plastered on your face. You reach down and unzip Joel's shorts, pulling his cock free. It's hard and throbbing, almost painfully so, a testament to your performance and his excitement. You wrap your hand around it, marveling at the warmth and hardness of it.

“Darlin, we don’t have to,” Joel starts to protest before you shoot him a look that shuts him up.

“Joel Miller if you aren’t fucking me in the next 30 seconds I’ll have no choice but to report you for causing undue distress.”

He chuckles as you tug him forward by his shirt, “Yes ma’am.”

“I’m on the pill, and clean, so uh,” you know you really shouldn’t be making this offer.

“I’m clean too,” He replies, eyes fixed on your face. 

“I’m okay not using a condom if you are,” you can feel your face heat at how terrible of an idea you know it is, and how bad you want it despite that knowledge.

“Fuck darlin’, I’m not gonna complain,” He groans, shivering as you begin to lightly stroke him.

Joel moves between your spread legs and your heart races as he lines himself up. You can feel the warmth of his cock against your entrance, slick with desire and Joel’s spit.

"Are you sure about this?" his voice is low and husky, and he laughs a little at your eager nod. Before you can make a snarky comment you’re gasping as he fills you, your walls stretching around him, accommodating his girth.

“Fuuuck,” you moan, concerned he might actually be splitting you in half. You’ve definitely never taken anyone this big before but you’d be damned if gave Joel the ego boost of knowing that.

“Takin’ it so well for me sweetheart,” he murmurs into your ear, holding still as you adjust to his size. 

“Joel, move please,” you mean for it to be a demand but the breathy whine it comes out as has Joel chuckling as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

He moves slowly at first, each thrust drawing a low moan from you. You paw at his shirt, suddenly deeming the extra layer an offense of the highest order. He chuckles and pulls the shirt off, giving you access to lick and suck across the expanse of his broad chest.

You kiss his chest, your lips leaving a wet trail to his nipple, which you roll between your teeth causing him to shudder. He picks up his pace, his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him tighter. You wrap your legs around his hips, feeling his cock stretch you even more as he drives into you.

"Joel, fuck," you moan, your voice barely a whisper.

"You enjoyin’ yourself, sweetheart?" he asks between thrusts, his eyes locked on yours, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Before you can come up with a snarky response, he’s found a new angle that’s sending sparks through your body with every thrust. The only response you can manage is a strangled moan.

“Aw, are you a little cock dumb, darlin?” He asks with mock empathy, “Can’t even answer a yes or no question,” He scoffs, but the tender look in his eyes lets you know he’s not being serious.

Serious or not, you can’t understand how he still has the mental bandwidth to be teasing you.

He moves faster now, pounding into you, the sounds of your wetness filling the locker room. Your clit makes contact with coarse hairs above his cock, sending your hurtling towards your climax.

"Fuck, I’m close," you whisper, feeling the familiar growing tension in your core.

“Atta girl, are you gonna come for me sweetheart?” He coos, his gentle tone a complete contrast to his harsh thrusts.

“Joel, please,” you don’t even know what you’re begging for and before you can figure it out, you feel a wave of warmth crash over you as you orgasm, your body trembling as you buck and writhe underneath him.

“It’s okay, you’re okay sweet girl,” Joel holds you firm against the bench as you attempt to squirm away from the now overstimulating thrusts as he continues to fuck you.

Joel's pace quickens, his hips slapping against your skin with each deep thrust. With one hand on your hip, he uses the other to reach down and rub your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire being. Your muscles clench around his cock as his own release nears.

"I’m gettin’ close," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "Where do you want it, sweetheart?”

You're breathless, sweat dripping down your skin as Joel thrusts into you, his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through you.

"Inside," you gasp, your eyes locked on his as he comes closer to the edge.

Joel adjusts his grip and with a few powerful thrusts, he slams deep inside of you, and you feel the explosion of his release like a firework going off, the sensation making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Joel," you cry out, your own climax crashing over you again, making your limbs shake uncontrollably and your nails dig into his shoulders.

Eyes closed, he leans his forehead against yours as he continues to hold himself inside you, his cock twitching from his spent orgasm. When he pulls away you collapse into a boneless heap on the bench, and when he eyes your exhausted form you can tell his ego is growing every second you remain motionless. 

You know you should get dressed before the cum begins to pool on the bench, or run down your legs, but you find yourself with a lack of motivation.  You are quickly realizing your decision had not been a good one, as you now had to drive home with cum soaked panties. From Joel’s raised eyebrows he appeared to be having the same thought. 

"You alright there?" Joel's voice carries a teasing lilt as he watches you flop around the bench.

You shoot him a playful glare, pulling your shorts back on. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever enjoyed cardio.”

"I think you have to be moving for it to be cardio, darlin’,” he chuckles, a smirk playing on his lips, “and all I saw you do was lay there and take it."

“I’ll have you know it’s a lot more tiring than it sounds,” you launch his shirt at his head in mock indignation. 

He catches the balled-up t-shirt with a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “Whatever you say sweetheart.”

He pulls the shirt on before his expression shifts, his usual playful demeanor softening into something more earnest. As you pull your bra back on and glance back at him, you notice a hint of bashfulness in his eyes. 

“Wha-”

“I-”

“You first,” you decide, staring expectantly at the man in front of you who almost appears to be blushing. 

“I know this is kinda backwards,” he runs his fingers through his hair, “but, could I take ya to dinner sometime?”

You almost began to laugh at the realization his strange change in demeanor was just because he was scared to ask you out. The man could fuck you within an inch of your life in a public locker room, but asking you on a date was what made him nervous. 

You quickly stifle your laugh when you see his face drop at your reaction, “Fuck Joel, of course I  want to get dinner with you.”

His expression brightens instantly, a smile spreading across his face. “Really?” he asks, almost sounding incredulous.

“Yeah, really,” you confirm, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest at his genuine enthusiasm.

Joel reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, quickly unlocking it. “Could I get your number?” he asks, holding the phone out to you, “if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Definitely,” you say, taking the phone and typing in your digits before handing it back to him.

“Great,” he says, grinning as he saves your contact. “I’ll text you later then?”

“I’ll be waiting,” you reply, smiling back.

With that settled, the two of you gather your belongings and walk out of the locker room together. You are pretty sure nobody else was in there while you were fucking, but you can’t help but feel that everyone in the gym knows you just fucked this man you had met maybe 30 minutes ago. You look at Joel and he seems completely at ease so you try to channel his confidence as you walk through the gym and out the front doors. You step out into the fresh air and share one last smile with the man before you walk to your respective cars, both looking forward to getting to know each other outside of the confines of Rock Hard Fitness. Really, with a name like that, what other outcome could you have expected?

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔

PAIRING: logan howlett x gn!reader

PROMPT: prompt list used

117. “i’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand.”

TAGS: peer pressure, ooc!logan(?), halloween fic when it's only august, anxiety, fear of halloween maze (no scares actually depicted)

A/N: i reworded the dialogue prompt a bit to fit logan but yeah :) just a little bit of logan comfort in preparation for spooky season <3 happy reading!

WORD COUNT: 381

masterlist || request box <3

“I don’t know about this, Marie,” you swallowed as you stared down the maze’s entrance.

“C’mon, honey. Everyone is coming with,” she coaxed, lightly tugging your arm. “It’ll be fun!”

You sighed and gave in to her plea, trudging along behind the rest of them. Ever since you were a kid you absolutely hated scary stuff. You knew all of this stuff wasn’t real, but it was hard to make the distinction while in the thick of it.

As soon as you crossed the threshold into the maze, your heart rate spiked even higher than it already had been in anticipation, sweat starting to line your skin as the lights started to lessen. “Y/N,” someone called, but your brain didn’t quite register who it was in the midst of the raging heartbeat in your ears. Turning to look, you found Logan staring at you, his eyes soft and full of worry.

“Hm?”

“You okay, bub?” You nodded your head; unfortunately, very obviously lying to him through your teeth. You were as pale as a ghost and your breath erratic. 

“If you’re scared, you could… hold my hand,” he offered, his voice low and gentle. Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at the gesture. You and him were close friends, and sure, you might have a tiny crush on him, but this was something new for you two. Your head moved before you could stop yourself, accepting the offer.

“My hands are a little clammy by the way, so I’m sorry about that. My anxiety goes crazy and then next thing you know, I’m absolutely covered in sweat,” you rambled, immediately stopping yourself when you realized how much you had just spoken. Just as Logan was about to say something back, the moment was quickly interrupted by Marie yelling back at them.

“C’mon you two!” You looked at him and found him already looking back, shrugging and holding out his hand. Gently, you placed your hand in his, warmth immediately coursing through your body at the feeling. For a second, you swear you saw him smile in the darkness of the maze.

“Thank you,” you quietly say, only loud enough for him to be able to hear. He gently squeezed the hand he held in his own.

"I got you, bub.”

[loverickyys]

. ݁𖦹₊ ⊹ Professor Hanbin!

minors dni (answering an ask by anon, can't include it unfortunately!)

- frankly speaking you were not a bad student. always able to keep up with the burden of assignments in uni but it all changed when your psychology professor had to leave mid semester, a younger professor coming in to substitute him.

- you never thought the new professor will turn out to be so hot that from being a top scorer your grades will plummet so badly, all due to him of course.

- don't get it wrong, hanbin is a great teacher. he listens well, he never discourages anyone, helping everyone around with his ever pure and angelic smile. in your eyes he is literally an epitome of gorgeous.

- and that's where the problem starts. he is so hot and pretty that all you can do is stare at awe, blushing when he smiles back at you so beautifully or your stomach exploding in butterflies when he bends down slightly against you to help you with a question.

- no wonder all you think about before, during and after his class is him. your head is filled with him. hanbin, hanbin, hanbin cluttering in your mind even at a glance of him.

- exam season comes and you fail badly. (who else can be blamed other than your sexy professor of course). while distributing the results hanbin's eyebrows furrow with disappointment as he asks you to stay back after the class to have a chat. the sadness from the awful result already vanishing as your heart beats with excitement getting to spend some time alone with him.

- "i wouldn't lie to you. i am pretty disappointed, you were among the top students earlier the semester. makes me wonder if my teaching methods are not helpful to you. do you need any help, you can always ask me." hanbin sighs, leaning back on his desk with you standing in front of him. the class is empty and only the soft music he plays during the sessions can be heard in the background. he looks displeased and confused, staring at you for some reason.

- you look in his deep black eyes. he is looking even sexier today, wearing a white shirt, left unbuttoned to show his tattoos, brown trousers that fit make his thighs look delectable and glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose.

- "it's not my fault professor, you are always distracting me." you smile a little, a weird confidence overtaking you (probably directed by the horniness you feel looking at him) as you stand up straighter coming on his eye level. hand moving slowly to pop open a button of your pink blouse to show some cleavage.

- hanbin gulps slightly seeing your movements, eyes not so shyly going to your boobs. "i am not sure what you mean by that. and if it's what i am thinking it is, i'll have to say that is highly inappropriate of you." he tries to fight back. he has now rolled up the sleeves oh shirt, hand flying to open another of his shirt's button as if to mimic your actions.

- you know he is clearly not backing away. pushing yourself more you lean towards him, palm coming in contact with his chest, your index finger tracing the lines of his tattoo. "and what are you going to do hanbin, report me? you want this too, accept it."

- there is a glint of surprise in hanbin's eyes but he regains his composure almost immediately. smirking as he grabs your chin pulling you closer, lips inches away from you. his arm wraps strongly around your waist, trapping you in his hold. "what do you want? just say it" he scoffs and let's go of you leaving you a little frustrated with the want to connect your lips together and taste him. your thighs rub uncomfortably, panties sticking due to how wet it feels underneath your white skirt.

- "i want you to pass me in this exam" you cross your hands across your chest. hanbin chuckles darkly, eyes now filled with lust. "and why would I do love?" he smiles at you, taking off his glasses and putting them on the desk. "because if you do i'll let you use me as your personal cumslut, professor"

- he doesn't need to be told twice, picking you up immediately, nails digging in your thighs as you yelp and hold on to his shoulders. he throws you on his desk not caring about the mess he is making. "you really shouldn't be talking like that you know?" he grabs you by the neck pulling you in for a messy and rough kiss, tongue sliding in your mouth instantly. your hands tug at his hair pulling him closer and closer while his pry your legs open, now standing between them.

- you let go to catch your breath, a string of saliva between you both as hanbin attaches his lips to your neck, nibbling and sucking harshly. you moan at the sensation and feel one of his hands sneakingly going inside your skirt and underwear. his fingers excitedly rub circles at your clothed core and he slips his index inside your hole, hooking it up and teasing your sweet spot. "fuck i- hanbin i-" you groan out as he fingers you slowly. "cat got your tongue now huh?" he teases you adding another finger.

- the way his fingers move in and out of you and the added pleasure of his mouth marking your neck and collarbone has you cumming in no time. he helps you ride the orgasm, cooing at how pretty you look practically screaming his name. he pulls out his fingers to pop them in his mouth, groaning in satisfaction at your taste before taking them out and pushing them in your mouth for you to suck on.

- you suck on his fingers delicately then instantly drop on you knees to return the favor. looking up at hanbin as he stares at you with pure lust and awe in his eyes. "let me help you professor" you give him an innocent smile and unzip his trousers. there is a patch on his boxers, cock begging to be freed from its confinements. you palm him gently as he grabs your hand. "don't be a tease now love" he says and you follow his orders, pulling his boxers down with the trousers. cock slapping at his stomach, tip red leaking with precum. it looks pretty just like he does all the time. your mouth waters as you lick a big stripe from the top to the bottom of his cock, sucking the tip lightly.

- hanbin grunts when you take him fully, mouth wrapped around him and hands playing with his balls. your tongue swirls around his cock, loving his taste. "you are such a whore, aren't you love" he groans in pleasure fingers tugging your head as he starts to fuck your mouth. you moan around him, the degradation making you rub your thighs together. you take whatever he gives you, now speeding up as tears well in your eyes, spit gathering at your chin.

- hanbin cums with a low groan, eyes blown, shirt all messed up, not letting your mouth leave his cock for one bit. when he is done he lets go off your hair and pulls you back. you still sit on the floor diligently, opening your mouth to show him you have swallowed everything. he smiles, his whisper dimples showing at his cheeks, "such a good girl, my little cumslut. consider your grades up love." you smile back at him, never been more satisfied.

(Had to repost because my account likes to get on my nerves sometimes :)

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 11

Hello all, Simulanka hit me like a dump truck.

On that note, am so excited by the fun new lore opportunities that have come up because of it.

Warning for Spoilers up to Genshin Impact 4.8's most recent summer event

Masterlist | Prev Part

~~~

“I may have retired from my position as Archon, but I assure you my powers have not weakened. Should you break your word, you will face the wrath of the rock.”

“I will uphold my end of this deal, as long as you uphold yours Morax”

“Then let this contract be solid as stone.” 

~~~

“I really don’t know what went wrong, Master Albedo,” Sucrose’s worried voice floated over his shoulder where he was examining her latest experiment.

Her experiments in bio-alchemy were not his preferred field of expertise, but he was happy to lend a hand now and again. 

She was proficient in running her own studies and experiments, so it baffled him slightly to see her ask for his help in such a simple experiment. 

Especially if it made her desperate enough to trek all the way up to Dragonspine in order to talk to him about it. She knew she could have easily just waited for his next trip down to the city, he did have to make those for supplies, and to visit Klee.

However, upon closer examination he understood her distress and confusion. 

Her latest experiment, which focused on testing her latest fertilizer which was infused with dead ley line branches, had fallen apart in a rather fascinating way.

The plants were all dead, which is unfortunate but the fascinating part was that the ley lines branches were not.

A fact known to all who study ley lines is their volatility. 

Researchers were often left to scramble around trying to document its movements in an uncontrolled environment.

WIth the ley line system being as big as it is, it was not possible for any team to span the entire system nor, with its interconnected system, was it possible to study only one section.

The closest equivalent would be to pick up dead pieces of the ley lines and study those pieces.

However, never in the history of alchemy, or even biology had a researcher ever been able to revive a completely dead piece of plant, never mind a ley line branch. 

Not that ley lines are plants, they don’t fit the definition of a traditional plant but its the closest equivalency that researchers have found when describing its characteristics.

Regardless, the pots that Sucrose had planted, all with various forms of dead ley line branches, have changed to varying degrees.

The most noticeable culprit was the one she had buried an entire branch in with the sweet flower. 

The white branch had sprouted its own limbs and were wrapped around the original flower in a crude imitation of a hug.

Rather morbid considering that the sweet flower locked in its caress was now dead.

Not that any of the other sweet flowers had fared any better. They were all dead, with no discernible reason as to why.

“When did you notice this phenomenon, ” Albedo asked, turning to look at Sucrose who was flipping through her notes.

“Um, a- about two weeks ago.” She explained, “At first the experiment was running smoothly, the sweet flowers were growing normally ”

She flipped open her notebook to show him her notes over the days.

“But then all of a sudden they just started dying, and the ley line branches started growing.”

Albedo flipped through the notes, Sucrose was by no means a slouch when it came to her notes. She was always impeccably detailed and thorough when it came to recording data for her experiments.

There were no signs of the ley line branches adversely affecting the growth of the flowers for the first 3 weeks of their lifespan. 

So what could have possibly happened to make them die like that?

Albedo looked over at the various pots scattered around his workspace, this was going to take him a while.

The Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius looked over at his student, she was already starting to shiver slightly.

As a synthetic human, his body was more sturdy than that of average beings, especially as a synthetic human of Rhinedottir’s. . . 

Well, he is very sturdy. 

Sucrose is not, a fact made even more apparent by how she’s moving her arms around in an effort to warm herself up. 

He tends to keep the braiser burning low, to save on supplies. However the temperature comfortable for him seems a bit too low for his student.

“Why don’t you head back to the city Sucrose,” he suggested, putting her notebook down on his table. “This is going to take a while to figure out, and it may be helpful for you to examine your lab once again to see if there are any variables you missed.”

Unlikely, but then again her presence here wouldn’t help either of them in figuring this out. 

Him from preferring to work alone, and her from the weather conditions.

Also, she failed to bring any meaningful amount of supplies with her, if she were to stay, they’d both end up having to go back down the mountains in a couple of days regardless.

If she left, he’d have at least a week of peace and solitude to figure this out.

If he can figure this out.

He’s honestly quite excited to get started, it’s been quite a while since a case had perplexed him like this.

He waved goodbye at Sucrose as she headed out.

She was much faster on her feet the way out, no doubt propelled by her desire to leave the cold, and the lack of various pots and notes to haul.

Albedo on the other hand, well.

 His clear blue eyes sparked with excitement as he dove headfirst in dissecting Sucrose’s experiment.

It was quite a fascinating phenomenon.

By all means, the ley line branches were completely dead when Sucrose started using them in her experiments. 

Whilst that by no means meant they were devoid of power, Abyss mages have found great success in using it to augment their abilities, the fact that it can grow and presumably revive itself is groundbreaking.

Now that he really thinks about it, this is not the only odd thing that had been happening in recent times.

Some of the Knights of Favonius have reported odd patterns of Ley line disorders happening recently.

Not to mention his own research on the remains of Durin.

Hmm, what are the chances they’re all connected.

Well, he won’t deny that the arrival of the golden haired traveler heralded many shifts in this world.

From their dealings with the Archons, to the blessings of the creator.

They are truly an exceptional person.

Interestings things never stopped happening when they’re around.

Back to the experiment at hand, from the angle of the growth, based on Sucrose’s diagram, it seems that all the branches grew in the same direction. 

Going back to her notes, Albedo referenced a map, triangulating the direction the branches pointed too based on the placement of the pots in her workspace.

Liyue

The branches are growing in the direction of Liyue.

What could possibly be happening in-

A draconic roar filled the air, blowing his papers all over his camp.

Summoning his sword, Albedo looked around, seeing only the tail end of an azure dragon pass over his base.

Could that be-

“Dvalin wait!” a musical voice screams out, as a white blur chased after the presumed dragon.

The wind generated by that second figure hit his camp, and face full force. Knocking him a good couple of steps back.

The Alchemist is left standing there, his hair and camp in a disarray.

His papers floated around the camp like large snowflakes, while the liquids from shattered beakers slowly began to freeze over.

What did he just witness?

A small hissing sound catches his attention, one of his experimental potions had been blown off of its stand. 

It now lay smashed in a pile of papers.

Sucrose’s papers

Albedo dove for the spilled beaker with a muffled curse

It was one thing for his experiment’s notes to be ruined, but for someone else to lend their own notes in a bid for help and for him to ruin them himself.

No, absolutely not.

This potion was supposed to be a powerful stain remover, inspired by Klee’s recent foray into his paint supplies.

While it was successful in dissolving the stain, it also dissolved the clothing.

In other words, it would destroy her notes given enough time.

Thankfully he did manage to get to it in time.

Most of the damage he could fix on his own, given some extra ink.

The incident brought him back to his reality of a ruined camp.

As much as wanted to investigate what was going on, he really needed to clean up his camp before he did.

Thankfully nothing too valuable was destroyed. A couple of beakers here and there, but well, let’s just say Acting Grandmaster Jean would be more surprised if he didn’t need to order a batch of extra beakers than if he did.

What can he say, it was the price of conducting Alchemy

Back to his camp, while it’s by no means clean, he truly didn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

Who knew if the two mysterious figures were even still on dragonspine.

Grabbing his emergency bag, Albedo headed out in the direction he saw them heading it.

The Summit of Dragonspine.

. . .

He should probably bring some extra supplies, just in case.

~~~

”Hraagh!”

The last hilichurl ran away as Albedo lowered his sword.

It’s weird that there’s such a concentration of hilichurls on his way up the summit.

In fact, he’s met more hilichurls today on his way up than he has over the past month combined.

Hmm, it bears investigating. However right now his focus is on seeing if those mysterious figures were still hanging around Dragonspine.

He had his suspicions on who they were, but well.

He wanted to confirm it with his own eyes first.

He continued his trek up, being mindful of his environment. The air grew thicker, and not with snow, but elemental power.

It was strange, whilst the celestial nail that pierced Dragonspine held a good amount of power, it was not this strong that it could be felt from so far away.

Similarly the heart of Durin was almost on the other side of the mountain.

What could be causing this phenomenon?

The Chalk Prince hastened his pace up the mountain, using his Geo constructs to help him over some of the more tricky terrain.

As he ascended, the air became more and more oppressive. Truly an average human would be having difficulty breathing by now.

But regardless he pushed on, determined to find the source of this power.

Ignoring the falling temperatures that signaled the end of the day, Albedo clambered over one last cliff, before he stumbled upon a small camp, with a couple of familiar faces.

“Albedo!” 

A familiar high pitched screech greeted him.

“What are you doing here!”

“It’s nice to see you again Paimon,” he greeted, patting the snow off of his body, “and Traveler,”

“Another friend of yours, I presume,” a deep rich voice said. 

“Yep, that’s Albedo, Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius.” Paimon announced, introducing him to the owner of said voice.

“A pleasure, I am Zhongli of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.” He greeted politely, looking very out of place in his elegant brown suit, considering the location and weather.

Albedo steps forward, preparing to introduce himself a bit better when-

“Oho, I believe we’ve met before haven’t we, good sir.” A colorful bard interjects, his blue eyes sparkling as he blocks his view of Zhongli . 

Another familiar face, though more of a passing familiar face than a friend..

He’s seen this man around Mondstadt, Klee enjoys his music and has on occasion attempted to drag him out to go meet this ‘funny bard’, but they always happened whilst he was in the middle of experimenting.

Albedo opens his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted once more

“And who is this,” a clear unfamiliar voice rang out.

Albedo’s attention was drawn to the last member of the traveler’s party.

His breath stuttered.

An elegant figure standing on the opposite side of the camp. Their head tilted as they looked at him.

Their slitted eyes were beautiful pools of liquid silver, akin to melted mercury, or liquid starlight.

Their flowing white robe swayed with the wind.

Their body backlit by the setting sun

They looked ethereal, godly.

They felt powerful.

“-do! Have you fallen off a cliff recently or what!” Paimon’s angry voice jolts him back to reality.

Ah, it seems that he missed something.

“Ugggh, come one!” The fairy grabs his arm and drags him to the other side of the camp.

She has a surprising amount of strength for such a small creature. 

Not that size is any indication of strength, he’s met Klee before after all.

The traveler followed, but not before sending the other member of their traveling party a meaningful look.

It seems that they want to discuss something important with him.

He never really did find the two figures did he.

“Albedo,” the traveler addressed him, their tone uncharacteristically serious. “I need you to leave Dragonspine, at least for a few weeks”

A few weeks?

“What’s going on?”

The duo exchange glances. 

“I’m going to explain something to you, but I need you to not freak out.” Paimon warned, hovering close to his face.

“I won’t freak out,” Albedo promised, leaning back slightly from Paimon’s heavy stare.

They explained the situation.

About the creator, how they found them, their situation.

About a contract they made with the Adeptus of Liyue and how they needed some place where they were unlikely to accidentally hurt anyone.

It sounds unbelievable.

By all means it should be.

But there’s no reason for them to lie, nor would they come up with this explanation unless it was absolutely true.

“You’re not freaking out right?” Paimon asked quietly as they watched him process this information.

To the outsider, Albedo appeared as calm as can be.

On the inside however.

The idea of the creator of Teyvat, here on Teyvat.

Well, that’s

I mean.

“Would this be a bad time to mention that Durin may be coming back to life.”

“WHAT!!!”

~~~

Masterlist | Prev Part

Thank you all so much for reading!

I will admit I had a little bit of trouble since I don't have Albedo and missed the events where he was actually plot relevant.

I was so close to getting him, except I lose the 50/50 and went all the way to pity before running out of primos.

Sigh, Albedo you sure like making my life difficult don't you.

As always my Askbox is always open for question, comments theories and more!

Here is the taglist:

@bunniotomia,@lucid-stories, @ymechi, @chocogi,  @ra404, @ash1, @esthelily, @tottybear, @mmeatt, @quacking-simp, @reemthetheme, @universallyenthusiastsage, @resident-cryptid, @fantasyhopperhea, @thedevioussmirk, @etherisy, @naynayaa ,@mel-star636, @chericia, @aithane, @mmeatt, @xrosegorex, @amidst-the-tempest, @8-sinner-8, @reapersan, @elementalia ,@strangeygirl, @chaoticfivesworld, @scalyalpaca, @avalordream ,@ranshin03, @vvyeislazzy, @wishicouldart, @raykayrei,@izzieg3987, @time-shardz, @nugsanart09, @mavix,@beary-kalkus, @lunarapple ,@keirennyx,@thepagansystem, @dragontammerz

[beomboomboom]

Boy's a Liar

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, drunken confession

pairing: Mingyu x reader

summary: Yes, it's not good to lie to your best friend of 10 years after drunkenly confessing to them. But, desperate times call for desperate measures, and this definitely counts as a desperate time.

warnings: mentions of drinking and alcohol

note: I originally wrote this on Mingyu's birthday, but wasn't able to post this until now. So I guess happy late Mingyu day 😭! This fic is part of an ask for drunken confession fics. Enjoy reading <33

"Can we talk about what happened yesterday?"

Mingyu freezes when he hears your words from his phone, already knowing exactly what you're on about.

It was a mistake.

A stupid mistake that will probably cost him his friendship with you.

So, in a fit of desperation, Mingyu chooses to value his friendship with you over his feelings by doing what seems to be the only way out.

Lying.

Which in hindsight, was a terrible idea.

"Uh...what about yesterday?"

"You know...when you confessed?"

"I don't remember ever doing that? You must've been dreaming. How much did you drink last night??" With every word Mingyu lets out, he feels a pang of guilt. Yes, it's not good to lie to your best friend of 10 years after drunkenly confessing to them. But, desperate times call for desperate measures, and this definitely counts as a desperate time.

"oh...nevermind then," he hears your disappointed voice say on the other end of the line before uttering a quick goodbye and hanging up.

Mingyu sits on his bed in a guilty silence before groaning at the unfortunate way things turned out.

He wasn't supposed to reveal his more-than-just-best-friend love to you last night. But one drink with you quickly turned into ten, and before he knew it he was telling you how much he loved you and wanted you to be in his life forever.

And with the way you responded...

Wait.

How exactly did you respond to his confession?

Mingyu furrows his brow as he tries to remember what happened but to no avail.

It's not until later when he's cleaning the couch, where you and him drank, when he remembers.

And that's when the regret of lying to you starts to kick in.

"You're so pretty," Mingyu murmurs fondly while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "And a bit blurry, but you're definitely always so pretty."

"Mingyu...don't say things you don't mean," you say warily. As much as you wanted to believe what he was saying and kiss him on his lips, you were on your fourth drink and Mingyu on his fifth. So at that point you both were pretty tipsy and practically saying nonsense to one another. Which was why you thought he was just joking at first.

But it seemed less like a joke when he replied smoothly while scooching closer to you to lean his head on your shoulder," No, I mean it. I like you. Let's be together forever."

"I like you too Mingyu, you're my best friend," you reply, still unclear about what kind of 'like' he meant. The friend kind or the more than friend kind? But thankfully, in only seconds your question was quickly answered.

"Noo, I meant I like like you. Like, I like you so much I love you."

Your heart speeds up the minute you hear his clarification, happiness flushing through your entire body at the realization that what you thought was a one-sided crush wasn't one-sided after all.

"Oh Mingyu, you should've told me sooner. I like you too."

"Oh Mingyu, you should've told me sooner. I like you too."

Your words play over and over again in Mingyu's head. He just can't believe it.

You.

Liking him.

He didn't have to lie out of fear for ruining his friendship with you anymore, not when he could have a relationship with you instead.

He didn't have to lie, period.

Because now he was stuck with resolving all the problems his lies caused him.

Taking out his phone, Mingyu quickly dials your number, and lets out a nervous scream when you pick up within seconds.

"I'm sorry, I was lying."

"Wait what?" Mingyu can hear your voice amid the background clatter of the dishes that you're probably washing right now in the doggy slippers he had gifted you for your birthday. "Mingyu, give me some context here."

"I was lying about not remembering when I drunkenly confessed to you," Mingyu explains while pacing back and forth in his room nervously.

"And, why would you do that?" you question after a pause of silence.

"I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Loosing you," Mingyu admits sheepishly.

"Okay, give me a second. I'm coming over to your house," you reply suddenly, Mingyu being able to hear the rustle of your jacket and keys as you make your way to the car.

"Wait why a-," Mingyu begins to question before you hang up on him, leaving him in a state of confusion.

"Hey-," Mingyu says when he sees you outside his front door, "why did you hang up on me?"

"Because-," you begin to say before gently taking Mingyu's face in your hands and making him lean down so that you can give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

"Because I've been wanting to do that for so long."

[hearts4werka]

No Nut November!

authors note: our no nut November has officially started! I might change this schedule later but as I’m writing this it’s 6 am so we’ll see how it changes. Idk how consistent I’ll be able to be with this and that’s the thing I worry most about this so I apologize in advance if I might not post on one day 😭 small disclaimer English is not my first language and now let’s roll

| 🥐 means ANGST - 🍪 means FLUFF |

Visit - > masterlist | guestlist

🥐 - November 1st! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Don’t Do This Again” is available now!

• a heated argument with your boyfriend Matt who’s the fuckboy of the town about him sleeping with another girl at a party you attended last night but are you going to give him another chance, or value your well being and break things off?

🍪 - November 2nd! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Gothically Yours” is available now!

• you’ve forced your boyfriend to let you do goth makeup on him and the experience turns out to be more fun than he could have expected, leaving both of you giggling while laying on the floor together…

🥐 - November 3rd! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Skin Deep Scars” is available now!

• you’ve been born into a rich controlling family, always having to stay on top and never cross the line. You tried to please your mother but never could be enough for your mother’s standards, your father was mostly at work and away at business trips so both of you hardly ever interacted with each other. That’s until you got into an argument about your new friend chris who was the polar opposite of you, what do you think will happen next?

🍪 - November 4th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Snow-Day Magic” is available now!

• december has finally arrived, snow has fallen and your daughter has never been more excited for your annual snow day with your husband Matthew matching her energy and enthusiast to which you fit right into, being the mother of both people.

🥐 - November 5th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Whispers Of Madness” is available now!

• ever since one unfortunate day, you havent felt the same mentally. The dark entity that now permanently stabled a special place in your mind, making you go more insane with eachasing minute. Whenever you try to reach out for help to the one person you trust, being yout best friend matthew he always argues that nothing is actually there and my brain is messing with me but I know more than ive lead onto. Are you going to finally shatter and possibly lead to murder, or maybe finally banish the evil living inside of you?

🍪 - November 6th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Birthday Tears” is available now!

• today was your birthday, the day you’ve never got to actually celebrate because of some family issues. Youve now always avoided your birthday and didn’t want to celebrate it, when you were coming home from the grocery store you were met with a sweet surprise when entering the house…

🥐 - November 7th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Underground Secrets“ is available now!

• your boss has set up a dangerous mission for you—to take down the intel of the notorious rival gang, The Vipers. Your boyfriend, a drug dealer of a rival organization, Chris is advising you not to go through with the plan because of how dangerous it is for someone like you, will you listen to your boyfriend or value your reputation over the risk of life and go through with the plan?

🍪 - November 8th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Adorable Chaos” is available now!

• one day you woke up to Matt becoming the best dad for two of your little fur babies, showing all of the affection you wanted to show them yourself but couldn’t and there was Matt fulfilling your little dream

🥐 - November 9th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | "Shattered Promises" is available now!

• a dangerous war was declared, the one thing you feared would happen in your life ever since your husband Matthew joined the military. The fear of him possibly dying out on the battlefield without a proper goodbye always managed to deliver you nightmares and now your worst fear came true, Matthew had to go off to fight for his country. Is he going to make it and come back home safely, or maybe you’ll forever hold the weight of him in your heart even without him among the living?

🍪 - November 10th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | "Newborn Miracle" is available now!

• the time has finally come, you and chris are going to become parents. Both of you are filled with joy and nervousness at the same time since this is a big step both of you have to make now and you’re ready more than ever for the adventures that lay ahead of you.

🍪&🥐- November 11th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | "Books, Breezes and Broken Limbs" is available now!

• one cool autumn afternoon, you’ve been reading your book in peace and minding your own business until your doorbell suddenly rings and you’re met with an unusual sigh, a zombie man holding his fallen arm. Will you help him out or freak out by the sight of the monster and slam the door in his face?

❌ - November 12th! - Day Closed

✎ᝰ. |

🥐 - November 13th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “You Can’t Save Me” is available now!

• Matt was a gang member and you knew the life as one or alongside one was a constant gamble for your life, never knowing what you’ll roll nor what consequences you will have to face. Today you didn’t know you would be facing one of them out of Matthew’s not informing you that they owed money to the violent rival gang, not thinking as an outcome I’ll have to face the barrier between life or death, will you somehow survive or face the consequences and give into the dark feeling of death?

🍪 - November 14th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Zombies Don’t Do Costumes” Is now available!

• Chris’s favorite season has came around the corner, Halloween season. He always loved to decorate the house with various scary objects, give our candy to children but especially scaring them. He decided to not dress up this year while handing out candy at your house and got quite shocked when a group of local children got scared of his so called ‘realistic zombie costume’ since they thought he was real. What would have you done if you were these kids?

🥐 - November 15th! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Unspoken Words” is now available!

• it’s pouring rain outside and you’re in a heated argument with the so-called ‘loser skater boy’ of the school, Chris about your popular friend group constantly picking on him but you don’t know what you could possibly do about it, in the heat of the moment you accidentally confess your love for him that you’ve been bottling inside of you for ages now, how will Chris react to the sudden confession?

🍪 - November 17th! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | "Coffe And Calculations" is now available!

youve been in a spiral lately and decided to schedule a study session with Matt, while you were still struggling he had already finished all of his work but to not pressure you, he pretended to still have unfinished work by scribbling on a piece of paper but still keeping a close eye on you, asking if you need a break you didn’t want but secretly needed.

❌ - November 19th! - Day Closed

✎ᝰ. |

🥐 - November 21st! - Matthew Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Uninvited Judgements” is now available!

• you were invited to a party by one of your friends, of course you brought Matt, your boyfriend along despite him being slightly younger, everything was going by smoothly and everyone was having great fun until you went out to the bathroom and when you came back you saw your drunken friends surrounding Matt, not suggesting anything good by their loud laughter…

🍪&🥐- November 23rd! - Christopher Sturniolo

✎ᝰ. | “Fractured Bonds” is now available!

• you and Chris never got along, until your parents forced you to at least attempt to be civil with each other since you’ll be flying out for vacation soon to be on good terms, you were getting along pretty well until a truck comes crashing into you but Chris pushes you out of the way, causing the harsh injuries to himself, suffering a broken leg & two fingers and a slight concussion, making your good relationship crush and crumble, or did it?

- November 25th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 27th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 29th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

- November 30th!

✎ᝰ. | ‘Nothing yet!’

& love and peace, V

[froggibus]

kisskisskiss - Venture

Pairing: Sloan Cameron x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive

Word Count: 800

Summary: you ask Sloan to try out a tiktok trend with you

CW: established relationship, suggestive content, based off this request, lots of kissing, reader wears lipstick, possession/marking, semi-implied sex

hey! sorry this took like a month to write, honestly i struggled a bit & ended up rewriting this twice. i know it isn't quite what you asked for, and if you end up not liking it, maybe we can work together to come up with something that fits a bit better! otherwise i really hope you enjoy! ^~^

(also trying out another new banner! i really liked the style for these ones so ill probably keep them?)

“Are you—are you almost done yet?” Sloan’s voice shakes with every word. “Can I see?”

The tanned skin of their stomach trembles as you lean forward and blow hot breath across it. Your glossed lips make contact to the centre of their stomach, eliciting a soft moan from them.

You flick your eyes up through your lashes to meet theirs. “The more you whine,” you say calmly, pressing another kiss lower to emphasize your words, “the longer this takes.”

They nod, though you can see the glassy desperation hiding behind their dark eyes. Sloan relaxes into the bed once more, pinning their arms behind their back in an attempt to stop squirming. 

‘Only a few’, they repeat to themselves. It’s what you had told them—begged them—when you’d first shown them the Tiktok from that couple's page you liked so much. Despite dangerously bordering on the edge of steamy, they thought it was a cute idea, and unfortunately believed you when you said you would do ‘only a few’.

However, as soon as you planted your first marks of glistening lipstick to their face, there was no going back. You’d started with their mouth, then their face, and little by little, you trailed down. Now, a half an hour and nearly a tube of lipstick later, you were skimming the seam of their boxers, playing a wicked game.

Even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to stop at this point. They look so hot, so marked, so yours covered beneath the red imprints of your lips. And they are yours, why wouldn’t you want to show it off to the world?

You press your lips against the warm skin of their hips, your chin now resting on the waistband of their sweatpants. Sloan inhales a deep, shaking breath—the only indicator of the boiling desperation bubbling inside them.

You drag your finger across the line on their hips where fabric meets skin, gently hooking your index finger inside the waistband. Sloan gasps, but stays impossibly still.

You plant one more tantalizing kiss, the base of your bottom lip just barely brushing the cotton of their pants. You pull back, admiring the smear of lipstick across their abs, chest, and all of their other visible skin. Your eyes dart down to their hips, where your most recent mark is half-faded.

You frown. “At this rate, my lipstick is gonna be all gone.”

“I’ll buy you more after this.” Sloan offers you a disheveled smile sandwiched between the redness of their cheeks. 

You grin at your partner, twisting up your lipstick to smear even more on your aching lips. Sloan’s smile only grows at your sudden excitement.

—

Sloan sits with their legs crossed on the edge of the bed, their cheeks flushed nearly as red as the lipstick covering their face. The sweatpants and baggy tee they’d been wearing have long since been discarded, leaving them only in a pair of baggy printed boxers. 

They offer you a bashful smile, tilting their head to the side to look at you behind your phone. Your own face is somewhat smeared with lipstick, thanks to the constant kissing you’ve been doing.

You’re recording yourself, applying the very last of the tube of lipstick that had almost been full at the start of the day. Sloan watches your fingers flex around the tube, smearing the rouge over your parted, swollen lips. Lips that had been all over them minutes earlier, marking them and claiming them—all for this video.

You notice Sloan watching you and return their grin, counting down on your fingers to let them know you’re about to start recording them now. They nod subtly, taking a deep breath and dropping their shoulders from their ears. The camera beeps and the second part of the video starts.

You zoom the camera in on their face, letting the camera capture the big, red stains all across their forehead, their cheeks, their mouth, their jaw. You hover for only a second before drifting down, showing the marks on their shoulders, collarbone, chest, abs, stomach. 

The kiss marks are never ending, trickling down their tanned skin, disappearing under the waistband of their boxers. Your eyes drift down to the centre of their underwear, where you know their inner thighs and more will be stained red for days to come.

Finally, you slowly raise the camera back up to their face, capturing the awkward, embarrassed blush gracing their cheeks. 

You settle next to Sloan on the bed once you’ve stopped recording, handing them your phone so they can watch back the video. You watch them watching it, their eyes locked onto their kiss patterned figure in the video.

“Wow,” they say. “That’s really hot, actually.”

You nearly trip over yourself jumping up in glee. “I know, right?”

Sloan stands too, levelling their gaze with yours. They wrap their fingers around the dark tube laying on your bed, rolling the cold packaging across their palm. “So,” they say, that bashful smile replaced with a teasing smirk, “your turn?”

overwatch masterlist | masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[meowhara]

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : death (sorry), blood and violence, gun, isolation, manipulation, mentions of abuse, slight smut, a little bit of fluff ig (not between Miguel and reader, yet)

summary : freedom do come with cost, a cost of another's life on the line

a/n : I'm still alive, unfortunately.

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

“I don’t think this is a great idea.” Lyla said as she sat on one of the cushions in Miguel’s office, busy with her phone. While Miguel himself is busy doing some paperwork. “What do you mean?” He looked at her with an annoyed expression then took off his reading glasses. She pointed towards the monitors in the corner of his office. A soft crying noise erupted from within the monitors as the screens remained dark and untouched.

It has been at least 24 hours after he isolated you in that room of his. You don’t even know if it’s day or night anymore as you can feel yourself starting to crumble away. Lying on the hard and cold concrete with tears wetting your face, your whole life starts to flash before your eyes. Memories of the past of how horrible your life has been begin to fill your mind. Will this be the kind of life you'll live until the end? To exist without any sense of freedom at all, making it all seem like a nightmare. But the nightmare has just begun.

The metal door creaks open slowly before Miguel enters, scanning the dark room just to find you cowering in the corner of the room. He kneels in front of you to meet your eyes, letting light illuminate the room so he will be able to take a look at your beautiful face. But you're too scared of him so you hide your face using your bunny ears to avoid his gaze.

"Have you learned your lesson, little one?" Your body quivers upon hearing his low and raspy voice. He moves your ears to the side then lifts your chin up with his finger. "I asked you a question." Seconds went by without you saying anything to reply to his question. He let out a 'tsk' sound before standing up and looking down at you with disdain, "You haven't learned anything have you? I guess you're going to stay here until you grow mold."

Just before he walks away from you he feels a tight grip around his leg. "No, please! Let me out! I'll do anything and— and I'll listen to you, I promise!" Your begging was like a melody to his ears, resulting in a slight smirk creeping up to his face in satisfaction. He got down to his knee once more with his hand caressing the side of your face. "You promise?" You nodded in response and nuzzled deeper into his touch to please him so he would release you from this hell hole. His smirk got even wider, "That wasn't so hard was it?" He unlocks the chain around your neck and offers you his hand to take. You hesitate for a bit before putting your hand in his.

He leads you upstairs into his bedroom while holding your hand tightly in his grip as if you're going to run away and escape from him again. He closed his bedroom door then cupped your cheeks just with one hand. He secretly loves the way your whole face fits in his massive hand. It makes him hard just from the size difference between you and him. How adorable it must be to have his cock buried deep inside you. All of those 'it won't fit' bullshit that would come out from your mouth just before he forces himself into you. To have you tear up like the cry baby you are and moan underneath him while he violates your tight hole with his cock. To have you submit to him and only him.

Just the thought of your body against his makes his mouth water, like a predator ready to devour its prey. But he must control himself and take this a little slower than he usually does. He clears his throat and puts those thoughts aside, "From now on I want you to listen and obey everything I told you to do. And don't even think of disobeying me, you know very well where you'll end up if you do. Understood, little one?"

You knew that you didn't have any other choice. It's either you obey him or try to resist and end up in that basement again for god knows how long. So you decided to nod, to listen to him for the time being until you found another way to escape from his grasp. "Is that a yes? Good." He lets go of your face before entering the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. He started taking his clothes off with his back facing you, revealing his toned back muscles with lots of scars and a massive spider tattoo.

Your mind goes crazy as you think of how this will end up, not realizing how red your face has become. "Take your clothes off." He then enters the bathtub that was prepared for him to relax in. A loud exhale escapes his mouth as he relaxes all of his muscles, enjoying the relaxing sensation of the hot water against his skin. "Excuse me?”

"You heard me. Don't make me repeat myself." He warns, louder this time. You bite your bottom lip in worry before slowly taking your clothes off, presenting your bruised up body to him. His eyes trails over every inch of your body to savor the enchanting view in front of him. Those bruises on your body makes him desire you even more. If only he was the one who marked you and did all of that to you, not that asshole who abused you not long ago. You feel humiliated from how small he makes you feel. "That's my girl." He purrs then gestures to you to come closer to him. He lifts you off the ground so easily then places you on his lap with your back resting on his torso.

He feels pleased by your small frame sitting on his lap. He has found the missing piece that fills the emptiness inside of him. He enjoys always being in control and you let him control you as if you're nothing but his toy.

After a minute of silence of you sitting uncomfortably on his lap he notices your body quivers. He wraps his hands around your waist as a gesture to soothe you, pulling your body closer to his until there is no more space between the two of you. He brushes your hair to the side then starts kissing the side of your neck gently. "I've been wanting to do this with you the moment I lay my eyes on you." He said as he held you tighter in his arms.

He savors the way your soft skin brushes against his, the way your body flinches every time he tries to touch you. He pulls your face closer to his then starts kissing you passionately. Your eyes widen from his sudden kiss but you can't deny the way you melt under his touch. It doesn't take long until you return his kiss with your palms resting against his muscular chest. He breaks the kiss then looks down at your face with a hint of satisfaction. "You're mine, y/n. Mine and I'm never letting you go.”

After another 30 minutes of him forcing you to bathe with him, he gave you a new pair of clean clothes to wear. He even lets you enjoy dinner. Of course with him by your side. The night ended with you sitting on his lap (again). This time in his office where he usually does all his work. He even told Lyla to wait outside so she can't tease him for having you sitting on his lap like a pet for him. You started to think that maybe he has a thing for having someone to sit on his lap. But in reality the only reason why is because it's you. It gave him some sense of ownership knowing that he's able to have you within his grasp and knowing that he could do anything he desires to you.

You can feel a sense of relief washing over you as you relax your back against his torso. You somehow are able to feel a little bit calmer despite his presence. Maybe it's the fact that he hasn't done anything to hurt you, but you knew very well that he's capable of doing so. He just doesn't have any reason to do so, yet. Or maybe it's simply because you're exhausted. You started to feel tired, really tired. You didn't sleep at all yesterday when he isolated you in that basement of his. All the fear and panic you experienced for the past few days have taken a toll on you. Your eyelids felt heavy until you accidentally fell asleep.

Miguel didn't realize this at first, he even wondered why you hadn't shifted or moved at all on his lap. Until he looks down at you to find you sleeping peacefully. He felt bad for you, thinking that you must feel drained after everything that had happened so he carried you back into his bedroom then put you down on his bed before tucking you in.

Day after day went by but nothing changes the fact that you're still anxious with this new life of yours. Every single day the loud chirping noises of birds outside wakes you up from your slumber with you lying beside him. As his heavy hand rests around your waist, keeping you in place whenever you try to slip away from him.

Today is no different. Sitting in his living room while watching the TV to entertain yourself. You know that you should be grateful to the facilities and care Miguel has given to you since he met you. But the way he hurt and locked you up in that pitch black basement haunts you like a ghost. What if he's waiting for you to slip up and do something wrong then he'll make you end up back there all alone again? You never trusted him. No matter how nice his behavior is towards you, everything about him feels fake. You feel like a mere doll sticking by his side for him to play around and dress you up however he likes.

“What?!” Your ears flinched. His roar sounds like an echoing thunder from down the hallway. You peek your head out the living room to see what the fuss is about. Miguel stands tall in front of his subordinates with his brows furrowed in anger and frustration, his veins throbbing on his forehead. “How the hell did all of you let that slide?! Answer me!” They fall silent with eyes glued to the floor underneath pathetically like a group of whiny dogs scolded by their master. “We don’t know. It just happened.” One of them was brave enough to answer.

Somebody had successfully infiltrated his line of work. Burning his secret warehouses where he runs his illegal business one by one until there’s nothing left but ashes and killing countless of his men. He pulled the man who dared to speak back to him by his collar, lifting him off the ground with nothing but his bare hand. “Just happened?! They caused chaos on my property and that’s all you have to say?! Think again before you dare to disrespect me like that.” Miguel slammed the man to the nearest wall in rage. His body fell unconsciously to the ground with blood streaming down his head.

Your breath hitched in your throat upon seeing the man’s unconscious body lying on the floor. He doesn’t even hesitate to hurt anyone who upsets him, including the people who are loyal to him. His shouting continues, you tried your best to muffle the noise by pressing down your ears but it doesn’t help the aching feeling of fear in you. What if he hurts you next and takes all of his frustration to you? Multiple pieces of furniture were thrown in anger by him, breaking into pieces all across the room from how strong the impact is.

He dismissed his subordinates. Threatening them with their own life and safety if something like this ever happens again. His firm footsteps grew louder towards the living room as he tried to shake off the anger radiating from him. He took a deep breath before entering the living room, he just needed a break from all of this. The TV's still on with no one watching it and the leather couch where you were sitting is now empty. Panic and anger grew back inside him before he punched the wall in anger with his fist. “She fucking escaped again! That little—“ He cursed before running from the living room to look for you, jumping into his car before he drove off as fast as he could to catch up with you in case you ran off again like before.

Multiple men ran past the living room, trying to help their boss by tracking you down, preventing you from getting too far before one of them stopped in their tracks when he heard a faint whimpering noise. He scans the living room to find the source of sound before he finds a small erect tail poking out from the end of a curtain. It shivers and moves around shiftily.

He approaches the small ball of fur then peeked through the curtain to find you hugging your knees close to your chest with your back facing him. He didn't know what to do at first but he couldn't blame your instincts to run and hide when you feel like there's danger nearby. He decided to gently place his palm on your shoulder. You yelped and turned around in surprise, thinking that it's Miguel and he's about to hurt you but your eyes met with the stranger’s gray ones.

The stranger doesn't want to act too friendly to you at first, getting too attached to you means death by the merciless leader of the mafia. But he just needed you to comply this time so he could impress his boss by discovering you safe and sound inside his mansion when he thought that you had run away for the second time.

“Boss is looking for you.” He spoke with a gentle tone. You sat there, staring at him with your massive eyes. He sighed, knowing that this will be a lot harder than imagined. “He's not going to hurt you.”

“He is.” You insisted.

“He hurt you because he cares about you.”

“That's not an excuse to hurt me…”

“It is. Trust me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because the longer you hide the angrier he gets. You don't want him to hurt you, do you?”

You shook your head. Him hurting you is the last thing you wish to happen to you. Your eyes find his, contemplating whether you should listen to him or not.

“Fine.” You agreed before he helps you to get you back on your feet. You two stared at each other awkwardly until he cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence. “I'm Cain by the way.”

“Oh… Y/n.” You replied to the black hair man in front of you. He has never seen anything like you before. A woman with such a small build, massive eyes and fluffy ears falling to the back of her head in fear. You look almost petty and adorable at the same time.

“Y/n!” Miguel's voice echoed across the living room before he ran towards you. He hugs you tightly while breathing heavily. “Where have you been?!” He pulls away from the hug before shaking you furiously. “I thought you escaped!”

“I got scared of you so I hid behind the curtains… You're going to punish me aren't you?” You said meekly with eyes glued to the floor in shame, preparing yourself for what might come up ahead. He let go of you, “No. This one is on me. But if you dare to make me panic like that again by doing a stupid fucking thing like this, I will.”

Silence hung in the air as he stared down at you before Lyla interrupted. “Miguel, we're going to be late— What the hell is going on?”

“Nothing.” He stares sharply at you, his stare alone could bore a hole right through you. He kept staring at you, his eyes refusing to leave yours. “We really gotta go now or you're going to miss your flight.” She replied grumpily, she hates it when he uses that kind of sharp and aggressive tone towards her.

Earlier this morning, he was supposed to leave for a business meeting for a week. But your little scheme that you pulled off earlier prevents him from leaving, which obviously pushes him over the edge. “Let's go.” His eyes finally left yours as he walked out of the room. “Cain, watch over her. Watch over her like your life depends on it.” He paused then turned around to look at you, “And Y/n. Don't even think about running away, or you'll never see the light of the day ever again.”

And with that he left. The monster that has been terrorizing your mind for the past week has left. “Don't take him too seriously, he's just pissed.” Cain said casually to you before walking off.

Cain didn’t know you’re this quiet, sitting quietly on the living room couch with your eyes staring blankly on the wide screen. He kept his eyes on you and watched you for a while before talking, “Are you hungry? It’s already time for lunch.” You shook your head, a small ‘okay’ escaped his mouth before he left once again. ‘That’s it?’ you thought to yourself. Miguel would usually drag you with him into the dining room and force you to eat if you dare to refuse whatever he asked you to do.

Out of curiosity, you tail behind Cain. Following him without making any sound. He smiles softly to himself, he can feel your presence following him. You must be dumb enough to think that he wouldn’t notice you tailing him like a lost puppy. He entered the empty kitchen and started to wash and cut up some fruits.

“Need anything?” He kept that small smile plastered on his face from how cute you’re acting right now, his face facing away from you as he chopped the fruits so you couldn’t see his smile.

“Why didn’t you force me to eat when I refused to?” You asked with your head peeked into the kitchen.

“Well, do you want me to force you?”

“No.”

“Exactly. Therefore there is no need for me to do so.”

“But I am hungry.”

“I know.”

He walks towards you with a bowl of fruit prepared in his hand before looking down at you, “Are you ready to eat now?” You looked up at him and nodded. He let out a chuckle then ruffled your head gently. “Where do you want to eat?”

“I can choose where I want to eat my food?”

“Yes.”

“Then can I eat in the living room?”

To eat in the living room is a new experience since you start living in your captor’s house, but being able to decide something for yourself is the strangest thing ever. Cain's gray eyes never left your small form as you sat there on the other side of the couch.

“I can see why he likes you.”

“He doesn't.”

“He does. Very much. Too much for your own good.”

“Is it a bad thing that he likes me?”

“It depends. If you please him it's a good thing.”

You look down and start playing with your own food. “I'm scared…”

“I can tell. What do you say when we take a small walk in the forest? It helps me calm down when I'm stressed.”

“We can do that?”

“Not when Miguel's around.”

You can't just turn down the only opportunity for you to get outside so you agreed to come with him. He led you outside, through the back door then deeper into the forest. You couldn't lie but to feel amazed, you've never been into a forest before. Your former master's house was in a secluded area of a forest but you were never allowed to go outside, not even a step out of his house.

Your eyes widen in amazement as you watch the scenery in front of you, massive trees stand tall with sun rays peeking out through the leaves high above. Illuminating a clear pathway for both of you to walk on. The sound of birds chirping can be heard from the distance and the gentle morning breeze feels so soothing against your skin. All of your fear and pain have vanished, leaving you two alone with the world revolving around the both of you.

Cain shakes his head with a laugh from your reaction before walking in front of you, getting even further from Miguel's mansion.

“W— wait!” You shouted with uncertainty in your voice.

“Hmm?” He hums in reply and stops walking to look at you over his shoulder.

“What if Miguel found out?”

“What about it?”

“He's going to punish me in the basement again, or worse.”

“He won't.”

“How could you be so sure?”

“Because I'm here. Don't worry.”

He continues walking with his hand behind his back. Not even stopping for a second to make sure that you're following behind him. You let out a small whimper before catching up behind him. Both of you walked for a while before he stopped walking, he stopped in front of a beautiful small lake deep in the forest.

You let out a small ‘woah’ as Cain sat down on a massive rock nearby. He pretends to act nonchalant towards how excited and happy you are, tail swiftly wagging with both of your ears perked up. Glancing at your direction momentarily to make sure that you're not running away or getting hurt in any way while he keeps himself busy with his phone.

Not even a single thought of escape pops up in your mind. You're way too busy examining your new surroundings. With eyes that couldn't stop exploring the breathtaking scenery around you, from the tallest tree down to a group of small daisies on the nourished soil beneath your bare feet. In the middle of you admiring everything that surrounds you, the bushes nearby shake. Indicating that there is something or someone here with the both of you. “Y/n get back!” With a swift movement he stood in front of you, switching into his protective mode with a gun pointed at the shaking bushes. His mind runs wild from the worst possible creature that might come out right from the other side of the bushes, regretting his decision by bringing you out here where danger lies.

With finger pressing lightly against the trigger, he prepares himself for the consequences of his own action before a small bunny walks from behind the bushes. Exhaling exasperatedly he retreats his gun, securing it back into his pocket. A group of other bunnies followed behind the little one as the little one made its way towards you and started sniffing your feet. You sat down on the ground before some of them jump up to your lap, earning a couple giggles from you.

He sits back down on his spot, watching you play with the group of bunnies. You look so relaxed sitting on the ground joyfully with bunnies sitting on your small lap. A soft smile appears on his face again before taking out his phone to take a couple pictures of you without you knowing , reserving the memory forever into his mind. “They look just like you.” He comments. ‘Adorable’ He adds sincerely in his mind.

The taste of freedom didn't last long. Since Cain doesn't want Miguel to know that he had let you play outside without his permission, he hurried you back to the mansion to clean you up. Rubbing clean wipes on your knees and hands while you sit on a chair. You watch as he cleans you up from any dirt or mud, “Thank you.” You speak softly. “For what?” He replied, not looking up from the mud stain on your knee that he was trying to clean. “For the freedom you gave me, even if it's only for a while.”

Days went by in a flash and you've never been happier. Cain treats you like a human being instead of some kind of animal, something that no one has ever done to you before. He took you for a couple more of these ‘secret’ trips into the forest. Showing you different parts of the forest to feast your hungry eyes that are longing for freedom.

Playing with the wild bunnies has been one of your favorite activities for the past week. You always await for Cain to take you outside again. He only let you roam free out there for less than an hour. But it didn't bother you since an hour of freedom is better than none at all.

“They're fluffy.” He said as he joined you, sitting on the ground with a bunny nuzzling on his lap. You two have gotten closer for the past day, since he's the only person who dares to interact with you under Miguel's order. “See? I told you it's nice to pet them.”

“It certainly is.” He snickered. It's always quiet around him. He's quite a quiet person you figured, doesn't talk much. Sometimes, he doesn't even talk at all, just watching you with that gray eyes of his. Barely even struck any conversation with his own colleagues. But they respect him, just like they do to Miguel.

The small creature jumps off your grasp, jumping its way into the deep unexplored woods. It tempted you to follow, so you did. Catching up behind it with Cain still unaware that you're gone. “Where are you going?” You called out, thinking that it could understand a word you said. It kept jumping away faster, disappearing into the darkest part of the woods. You lost tracks of where Cain was or even where the mansion was located. The sky gets darker the longer you walk aimlessly by yourself, it wasn't this dark before. Dark rumbling clouds enveloping the once blue and clear sky.

“Y/n it's getting dark, let's go.” He stood up, wiping his clothes off from any dust or dirt. “Y/n?” He turned to find nobody sitting before him this whole time. Just how long have you been gone without him noticing? “Y/n. This is not funny, get back here so we can go back home.” He waits and waits, hoping with his little heart that you'll reply to him calling out your name. “Y/n!” He speaks louder, his voice fills with dread and desperation.

The sunlight was long gone. Tall trees surround you, trapping you there like a cage. “C— Cain?” You called out softly. Glancing your head around to look for any signs of life. Your eyes find the small bunny you were looking for earlier, lighting your face up with joy before you approach it from behind. But something faster than you did before you could even lay a finger on the little bunny. The creature's fangs ripped through the little one's flesh, ripping it into a bloody mess. Making you gasp from shock before it turns its head towards you. A wolf, a massive one.

Growling with blood dripping off its mouth. Your legs start to tremble in fear. You took a couple steps back before you made a run for your dear life. Running as fast as your feet can take you, through the darkness of the forest and through endless massive logs of trees. Tripping over something, you fell with your knees landing first onto the hard ground. Scrapping the smooth skin that was covering your knees until it bleeds. But you stood back up on your now bleeding knees and continued running, wincing in pain as blood dripped down your small legs with every single step you took.

Hope seems like a possible thing for you, until you're trapped against a gigantic wall of a cliff. Panic washes over you when you hear a couple of growling noises behind your back. The beast has brought its friends to play. The predator pouches over you, taking you down with its massive weight. You clenched your eyes shut, letting death to finally claim you after all this time.

A forceful kick landed on the predator's stomach, sending it far away from you before it landed on its back against a trunk of a massive tree. The beast wails in pain but your savior doesn't waste any time to pull out his gun and pierces multiple bullets through the beast's body. He stood there for a second, anticipating any sudden movement from the dying predator. You look over to Cain. He looks tensed, panting air in and out of his lungs.

“I'm so—”

“You're hurt.” He interrupted you in the middle of your short apology. He looks over to you, his eyes sharp with a hint of relief in his eyes upon seeing you alive in front of him. Without another word he scooped you into his arms, carrying you back with him back into the mansion.

Silence hung over the both of you as he treated your wounds. Cleaning over your bare flesh with rubbing alcohol before wrapping your knees up with bandages. He stood up, making his way towards the living room's exit. You don't want him to leave, not yet.

“I'm sorry. I know you're probably mad at me. But it's my fault, I shouldn't have left you.”

He stopped on his tracks before looking at you over his shoulder. “Miguel is going to kill me if he finds out.”

“Then don't tell him.”

“It's not that simple.”

“Cain, I'm begging you. I don't want him to punish me.” He stares at you through his emotionless eyes, his face unreadable.

There it is, that quiver on your bottom lip from you holding back your tears, your fluffy ears falling to your side. He hesitates but lets his heart take over. His mask of emotionless facade falters, kneeling down on his knees to soothe you. “I won't tell him. But I can't let you go out there anymore.” You nodded. At least you'll be able to roam around freely inside. Rather than feeling like a small captive inside that damned basement. Wiping your tears away before hugging his chest tight in relief. He looks down at you with a mixture of disbelief, he never thought you would hug him like this. But he returns the hug anyway with a smile that you've never seen across his face.

Tapping his finger on the table, his mind wanders off the boring topic his business partner has been discussing for the past hour. He has been busy these past few days. Taking over some work on the field, moving from a secluded place to another all day. He closes his eyes briefly, taking his mind off his work for a second. Cursing to himself the second your face comes into mind. He misses you, badly. Wishes that he could get himself back home, away from all the pressure of his work. Taking himself back to you, to see you and to feel you again. To hear you whine and sob whenever something goes wrong.

He switched the screen of a tab in front of him. Switching it to tons of camera previews inside his mansion with one of them showing your sweet interaction with Cain, sharing such an intimate hug in front of his eyes through the screen of the device in front of him. His patience was wearing thin. Standing up abruptly before slamming his tab down to the hard marble underneath, shattering the screen into pieces with such a strong force. He grunts, taking his coat with him then proceeds to leave the meeting room.

“Lyla, we're heading back home.”

“But Miguel, the meeting—”

“Now!”

She rolled her eyes before apologizing to her boss's clients for his aggressive behavior.

Eyes stirring open with darkness surrounding the room you're in. Cain must've forgotten to wake you up from your slumber. Sleepily, you climb off the bed then walk towards the bedroom door. "Cain?" You called out thinking that you'll get a reply from the other side of the door, but nobody answered. It's very quiet, too quiet that you're able to hear your own breathing. You opened the door slowly to find no one standing nearby the door. Cain was usually the one standing there, making sure that you're safe since Miguel left. Taking a few steps out from the bedroom you heard a familiar voice, "Little one, you're awake." You turned around to see no other but Miguel himself with a stain of dried out blood across his face.

"You're back..." You said nervously. The atmosphere surrounding you shifted, becoming so much heavier with his presence. "I have a surprise for you." He grabbed your hand before taking you with him downstairs. The sound of your own heartbeat grows louder and louder with each step you take. He stopped in front of a familiar door, you've been in there before and anything that lies behind that door won't be any good.

Miguel opened the door for you. You gasped with both of your palms covering you mouth. You saw him there, the only person in the whole world that cares about you. Tied up to a chair with cuts and bruises all over his whole body. His face looks awful from all the abuse and torture that was inflicted on him.

“What did you do to him?” Your voice trembles, lacing with fear and dread.

“I took care of him. For us.”

“You're killing him!”

“He dared to lay his hands on you. Worse, he likes you.”

“He was taking care of me! You ordered him to!”

“Taking care of you and stealing you away from me is a massive difference. I'm not a fool, I know everything. “

You froze, standing there like a fool. “What do you mean?”

“I know he let you go outside. Out of that gates that I specifically told you not to walk out of! Did you really think I wouldn't find out?” Opening your mouth to talk back and defend yourself but nothing comes out of your mouth, you fall quiet.

“You know the rules, yet you chose to break it.”

“But I didn't run away!”

No. Not this again. You look over at Cain, hoping that he would back you up this time. His head hangs low. Miguel grips your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. He despises it when you look at someone else but not him. He's fuming in anger, jealousy took over every inch of his body.

“He can't help you. Stop looking at him.” He growls before letting you g0. You stood there for a second. He continues, “Who do you belong to, little one?”

“You…” You mutter under your breath, gaze descending from shame upon your own words.

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it. That you belong to me.” He offers something, a gun resting on his palm. Your eyes widen upon looking at the metal weapon he's offering to you.

“You don't want me to punish you, do you? Or would you rather sink into the basement floor forever? Your choice.” You know you can't let that happen. Last time you were there, it almost cost you your sanity. But you can't risk losing Cain, not like this.

“I can't…”

“Can't?” He stares down at you, raising one of his eyebrows from your refusal. Snap. With a snap of his finger, three men walk out from the shadow inside the room you're in. Your eyes shot towards them then back to their leader. “What are you doing?”

Miguel wasn't going to accept your simple words of refusal. “Making sure you're learning your lesson.” Without any words of order coming out from his mouth, they begin to torture him again. Your eyes water, heart shattering into pieces the second you see them abusing him for the second time. Cain tries his best not to let out any sound from the ongoing abuse. Gritting his teeth in pain, he sealed his lips shut to suppress any groan from the never ending blow given by his own friends. He doesn't want to worry you. To not blame you for the unfortunate event that is happening to him.

“Cain!” You tried running towards him in an attempt to save him from your stupid mistake. “No!” You scream before Miguel stops you, gripping your upper arm tight, stopping you from running even further.

“Stop it! Stop hurting him!” They continue to treat him like a punching bag. Hurting him without holding back, earning a couple grunts from him.

“Fine! I'll let you punish me! Stop them, please! He didn't do anything wrong!” Miguel doesn't even budge. His men continue, torturing him hard beyond his own limit. Tears streaming down your cheeks from sheer horror. Why are they not stopping?

“It's your fault. You did this to him. You're the reason he's hurt.” Miguel blames you. You can't help him. He's weak, tortured beyond anything your mind could ever comprehend. “Help him Y/n. Take his pain away. You don't want him to keep hurting, do you?” Maybe he's right, you can help him this time. By taking his pain away, forever. Miguel would not let him slip easily after this, setting his life in a horrible nightmare he could never escape. That's exactly what Miguel wanted you to think.

“I'll—” You paused, thinking over your next words. “I'll do it! That's what you wanted right? I'll shoot him! Just tell them to stop!” He lets go of your upper arm almost immediately. “Enough.” He ordered. They move aside. Unblocking your view from your beloved friend. His condition worsened. They broke his nose and countless bones all over his body. Bruises covering almost the entirety of his body. Scars that will take ages to heal tainted his smooth and pale skin. Gasping out in pain, blood flows down his nose to his chin. Dripping down to the floor underneath.

Miguel offers you the same gun once more. You look down at it with a look of despair painted across your face. You took the gun from his hand, holding it with your shaky hand. Pointing it towards the poor man you thought would always be there for you. Your index finger sits on the trigger. A satisfied smile creeps up to his face.

“That's it… He's suffering because of you. Let him out of this misery you had caused him.” He speaks, lips inches away from your ears. His voice smooth like butter, deceiving you like a sly snake. Cain's head shot up to see the gun pointed right at his head.

"Y/n please." Cain whimpers, staring at the gun in your hand as a tear falls off his cheek. He sounds just like a wounded animal, whimpering and wailing in pain just before it's about to be killed.

Cain wasn't the type of man that would ever fear death. But when it comes to you pointing a gun at him, his wall of strength begins to crumble.

“I'm sorry…” A simple goodbye left your mouth. Your vision blurs, tears welling up in your eyes. “Y/n don't listen to him!” He shouted with all the energy he had left. “Y/n—!” Your ears ring from the loud bang of the deadly weapon in your hand, blood splattered everywhere. An eerie silence hangs over the room.

Blood pooling underneath him before he exhaled for the last time. Life leaving his body completely. Cain is dead. And you killed him.

a/n : I'm going explain my crime here (in case if you're wondering). Cain was suppose to be a character from atsv but I felt bad due to his death so I created an oc, yay! Introducing my new babe, Cain. Sorry for not updating anything for the past three months. I'll be more active here soon, I swear. Just bare with me until the end of July and I'll start writing more contents here.

I forgot. Cain was actually Miguel's bestie. Well... Ex best friend for now. Since he's you know, dead.

Let me know if you like him btw, might write something based on this character in the future. Not sure.

tag list :

@yourmomsushi @s0lm1n @bracefacejimin @ahano @mimiemie @reverieblondie @urlocallocachica @sukioyakio @rin-matsuoka345-blog @tojishugetiddies @appleblueberry-pie @ion-news @outmodead @amelialysm @psychoyanderereader

[swiss-mrs]

You were asking for ideas about a future Sy fiction & an idea just popped into my head about “Shy Sy” & the “Karaoke Cowgirl”. Now, there’s NO WAY I could ever compare to your writing skills…but say Shy Sy calls & asks her for a date, she agrees, but everything goes horribly wrong……he spills beer all over her, clumsily trips over his own 2 feet, his truck gets a flat ( there is no spare tire), so they sit alone in the truck having the most fun conversation & maybe with a little cuddling to keep her warm?!?! (She only has a skimpy sundress on). As they casually talk, Sy becomes much more relaxed & finds her just adorably perfect?!?!

sorry this took so long. I have been going through some crazy writer's block. I think I got everything minus the beer😅 thank you for your support! hope you like this!💕

Your Shotgun Rider

Read Black Velvet (Pt. 1)

Word Count:

Warnings: Series of Unfortunate Events (First Date Edition), Adult Language, Some Suggestive Themes (No Smut), Petnames (darling and pumpkin), Reader is Able to Fit in One of Sy's Jackets.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing (The vibes: one two three four), No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Height, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "Girl"/"Pretty Girl" and "Little Lady"

Synopsis: After your meet-cute at the bar over the weekend, Sy gets you to go out on a proper date with him. Unfortunately, everything seems to be going wrong.

--💕👢💕--

It's time. Sy looked at the watch on his wrist and breathed out a heavy sigh. "God damnit!" He hits the steering wheel in a weak attempt to release some built-up tension. This was the 5th time he'd tried turning the ignition over to no avail. He was running good on time, thirty minutes early, to be exact, before he came out to his truck to try and head over to pick you up. Only to be cockblocked by his own damn pickup.

The last time he recalled, the thing was running smoothly. What in the hell changed?! He leans back in the driver's seat and drags his hands down his face in frustration, letting out a deep groan. His hands drop to his lap with a smack. With his eyes closed, he begins praying. "Please, to the powers that be, please let this God forsaken truck start so I can go see this girl." Without much hope, he opens his eyes and leans forward again to twist the keys again. Surprisingly, the engine roared to life.

Sy lets out a deep sigh of relief, closing his eyes and allowing his body to collapse slightly, forehead resting on the wheel. He lets out a chuckle in disbelief. "Thank you." He leans back up and shifts the truck into drive to head over to the address you'd given him when setting up your date over the phone.

Thankfully, you didn't live far. Your new apartment building was less than 15 minutes away from his house. He lived more on the outskirts of town as opposed to your apartment closer to the town center. He reckoned that if he pushed the speed limit, he could make it in there in 10. This was his town, after all. He knew the streets to avoid to be able to safely cut time.

Sy hated running late, much more now than ever. He didn't want to miss this opportunity. This was his first official outing with you. He had to make a good impression.

As he drove, all he could think about was you. Your laugh, your voice. Since you'd met two weeks ago, you two had built a strange little bond. You've gotten to the point where you can talk to each other like old friends, though all of it has been only over the phone.

You were extremely busy with basically zero down time. The combination of adjusting to your new job, apartment hunting, and now moving, you couldn't find time to do anything but work, sleep, eat, pack, and move. In between, you'd have your phone glued to your ear with Sy on the other end of the line.

Every time you talked, Sy could practically hear the stress and tension in your shoulders from carrying the weight of everything happening. He'd offered to help you move, but you turned him down, insisting you had more than enough help. Plus, you were moving things slowly, and didn't want to have him just drop everything he was doing at your beck and call just to move boxes. He never said it aloud, but he would be more than willing to be on standby for you.

Due to everything going on, Sy had made it his mission to make the little time you had together over the phone pleasant. Thankfully, you got his humor, so making you laugh was never a hard task. It hasn't been a day since he last spoke to you, but he already missed your laugh. Every time it came through the line, the image of your smiling face at the bar would pop up. Every time, without fail. It would always bring a smile to his own face.

The realization of him finally getting to see you in person again hit him hard when he finally reaches the street you live on. It's been two weeks. TWO WEEKS. He hoped you didn't forget what he looked like. Your image is engraved in his brain, one of his sweetest memories. That's when he spots you standing at the base of the stairs, just outside your apartment building. Somehow, his heartbeat both doubled in rate and stopped completely at the sight of you.

You're wearing a white dress that stopped mid-thigh. The skirt of your dress was light and flowy while the upper half was fitted to your frame, hugging you in all the right places. On your feet was a pair for dark brown cowboy boots. You looked utterly adorable and equally sexy. Sy found his eyes trailing along the skin of your exposed legs.

Sy pulled up to the curb, throwing the truck in park, and hoping out the driver's side to walk over to the passenger door, near the sidewalk.

As soon as he hopped out, your face lit up like the morning sun, eyes widening and face breaking out in a big smile. You wave at him and immediately start to speed walk over to him. Your sheer excitement made his heart warm. At least you were happy to see him, and in fact, did not forget what he looked like, as if you ever could. You fight the urge to run and jump into his strong arms.

"Sorry I'm late, darlin'." He blurts before you can get a word out. You're obviously taken aback by the apology. You scrunch your eyebrows and pout, tilting your head.

"Late?" You pull out your cellphone from your hidden pocket, clicking the screen on to check the time. "It's 6:03." You lock your phone and slide it back in your dress, looking back to him with a small smile. "There's no need to apologize for three minutes." You say positively. "You're here now, and I'm so happy you are." Your smile grows happily.

You have to clasp your hands together in font of your lap to physically contain yourself from jumping on the man in front of you. First off, you're overjoyed that you get to finally go on a date with him. Second off, he looks so damn good in his plaid button-down and jeans. You give him a quick once over. It looks like he'd given his beard a little neatening up. His shirt is ironed free of any wrinkles and tucked neatly into the waistband of his jeans. He has a brown leather belt that just so happens to match your boots perfectly. The circular buckle on the front has a horse on it, and his jeans hug his thighs just right, loosening back up as the fall passed his knees. On his feet are leather boots that are obviously a bit worn but sturdy. Must be his go-tos. Neither of you are dressed super fancy. Both cleaned up just appropriate enough for your date. You sigh out a happy sigh. "You ready to show me your moves?" You tease, raising a brow. Sy lets out a soft chuckle, showing off his teeth with his effortlessly charming smile.

"Now, little lady, I told you over the phone, 'I'm no dancer', but if it makes you happy, I'm more than ready." He gives you that smile that makes your knees go weak. He reaches for the door handle and opens the passenger door for you to get in. As you step closer, he holds a hand out for you to take, to use as leverage to get in the tall truck. You smile at him and give him a gracious nod and 'thank you' as you grab his hand to lift yourself into the seat.

Once you're safely in, Sy closes the door behind you and jogs over to his side, quickly hoping back into the driver's seat with one swift motion. He buckles up and looks over to you as he reaches for the gear shift, giving you another smile before shifting and driving off.

"Now, we have a little ways out til we get there. It's just outside of town. No more than 30 minutes." You look over at him as he drives, and he throws some short glances at you as he speaks. "So, uh..." He says, looking back and forth between you and the road. The happy, wide-eyed look you're giving him is making it awful hard to keep his mind straight. He clears his throat and decides to focus his eyes on the streets ahead of him, but the feeling of your eyes on him remains. "How's the move been so far? You likin' your new place?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see your little smile grow a bit as you nod.

"Yeah, it's been going." You say with a soft chuckle and a shrug. "I at least have some furniture and kitchen stuff over, pots and pans or whatever, so I can now somewhat function out of my own place. It's looking a little less like a storage unit and more like a home, finally, minus the bedroom." You sigh and shift your gaze to the roads ahead as well. "I still have boxes to unpack and a bed frame I've been procrastinating having to put together, but it's nice." You smile, the pride of having a space to call your own swelling in your chest.

Sy glances over at you, eyes nervously shifting back and forth, contemplating his next words before just blurting them out. "I could help if you want." You turn to him to say something, but he continues before you get the chance. "I know you said you don't want me to 'be burdened with your move', which I would, by the way, be more than happy to help you with anything, so don't worry about burdenin' me." He quickly adds in, "I could at very least come by and put your bed together." He glances over at you again as if to let you know he's done with his little ramble.

You give him a little smile, so soft and warm it melts his heart down into his stomach. There's a short pause of you just staring at him with pure admiration before you nod. "Okay." You say with a smile. Sy raises his brows and glances over at you.

"'Okay'? Really?" He clears his throat, shifting in his seat a little in an attempt to cover up the surge of happiness that just ran through him. "Alright. I, uh, I keep some tools in the back." He points a thumb to the backseat. "After tonight, I could fix it up when I bring you back home, so you can have a proper bed to sleep on." He shoots you a smile, and you gently nod. He's so cute. You turn your head to look out the window. This burly man, 'if looks could kill' exterior mixed with his cinnamon roll personality played criminal tricks with your mind and your heart. It only left you pondering what he was like in action, when he was on-duty.

With his soft, sweet, and caring attitude towards you, it was hard to imagine him with a scowl, guns blazin', and dirty. It felt a bit forbidden, but a part of you was set alight by the pure fantasy of it. You could feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought. You purse your lips and try to quietly control your breathing, cheeks starting to burn a little. You nearly jump out of your skin when Sy speaks up again. "Is that alright, darlin'?" You turn away from the window to look back towards him, finding his gaze shifting between you and the road.

You take a quick breath in to try and compose yourself. You nod quickly. "Yeah, no, yeah, that's completely fine. Sorry." You shake your head and let out a small sigh with a smile. "Just got... caught up in my own mind." You try to play your fluster off. He throws you another brain melting grin.

"Well, hopefully, tonight can help you de-stress." He focuses his eyes back on the road, thank God. "New job, new apartment, new town." He shakes his head. "You sure got your work cut out for you." You let out a little laugh and a nod.

"You're telling me. Thank you for taking me out tonight, and thank you in advance for the bed." You give him a smile. He arches a brow and shoots you a glance out the corner of his eyes.

"Don't thank me yet. I might step on your feet, spill beer on ya or somethin'." He says, lighthearted but honest. You let out another laugh, filling Sy's heart.

"Okay, okay. We'll see how the night progresses, but I'm sure there's nothing you could do that would make me any less grateful. I'm truly happy to be here. I'm lucky to have met you." You say honestly. The way the truth rolls off of you was easy, but to Sy, it felt like you just gave him the world. He's about 98% sure you have no idea the effect your words affect him. His smile grows, showcasing his teeth proudly from behind his freshly trimmed mustache.

Before the conversation could deepen any further, a loud POP erupts through the truck, followed by an insane, anxiety inducing rattling and swerving of the truck.

You instinctively reach out to hold onto something, and Sy instinctively reaches a protective arm out to you, keeping the other one on the wheel to maintain as much control over the truck as possible. You had just made it on the country road highway not ten minutes ago, and from the sounds and feel of it, one of the tires popped.

Sy carefully pulls over to the shoulder, parking the vehicle halfway off the road. Thankfully, there just so happened to not be any other cars on the road, but, then again, not-so-thankfully, that meant no immediate help nearby.

As soon as Sy gets to the roadside, he takes his arm back to use it to switch gears into park. He looks in the driver's side mirror with a clenched jaw. You both already know it's the tire, but a big part of him just hopes that the mirror will give him a different answer. He holds in a string of curses, throwing open the door and hopping out. He turns to you once he's outside, "I'll be right back." He's visibly struggling to keep calm, and your heart is a nervous wreck from the loud noise and turbulence. You want to ask him to stay for a few moments until your heart slows back down, but you instead stay silent and nod.

He closes the door and walks towards the back of the truck to get a closer look at the tire that blew. Even though the doors are closed and the windows are rolled up, you could still hear the muffled swears Sy was letting out. Though, yes, the situation is terrible, and you feel bad. You couldn't help but giggle through your little heart attack.

You turn to look through the back window to find a very stressed looking Sy leaning his hands on the truck with his head down. You couldn't hold back a pity smile. Poor guy.

You could see him let out a heavy breath before standing up straight and waking back to the driver's side door. He opens it and pauses, fixing his jaw. He drops his head, letting out another deep breath before looking back up at you. "I'm sorry, darlin'." He starts. "The damn thing is completely busted, and I don't have a spare." He drops his hands from the truck to run the down his jeans. He reaches for his back pocket to grab his phone. You shake your head.

"Don't apologize. It's happens." Your optimistic tone and little pouty face softens the blow. He shakes his head with a chuckle.

"This has got to be the worst date. I'm sorry, pumpkin." He pulls out his phone, clicking the screen on and tapping at it. "One of my guys drives a tow truck for a livin'. There's no tellin' what he's up to right now. He's probably still workin', but imma try givin' him a call and see if he can lend a hand."

"Okay." You say with a relaxed smile. He sighs a soft grin, a gentle look in his eyes. His shoulders relax ever-so-slightly. He hates that you're stuck with him in this situation, but at the same time, he's glad he's stuck here with you.

"Just a minute, pretty girl." He winks, bringing the phone up to his ear and closing the door softly as he walks around to the front of the truck, leaning against the grill.

You watch him have the conversation through the windshield, waiting with your hands rested in your lap. The phone call doesn't last too long as barely five minutes pass by before he's hanging up the phone and rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn't make any attempts to move, so you take that as your opportunity to get out of the truck and walk towards him.

Sy lifts his head from the hand he has massaging his forehead to look over at you. "I'm so sorry, darlin'." He looks at you, guilt, embarrassment, and shame worrying his features. You shake your head and raise a hand to stop him, closing your eyes and looking away, a clear indication of not 'wanting to hear it'.

"No need. Like I said, you don't need to apologize for this." You lean next to him on the warm grill of the car and offer a soft grin. You lean over to bump your shoulder to his. "Any luck with your buddy?" He lets out another sigh, looking down at his phone.

"Well, like I suspected, he's still on the clock and currently helpin' someone else out, but he'll come and get us once he's free. Though, it may be a while." Sy slides the phone back into his back pocket before going back to rubbing his forehead.

"You know, you look really handsome." Sy looks up, removing his hand from his face and looking over to you. The smile on your face nearly makes him forget the unfortunate situation you're both stuck in. He can't help but adore the way your head is adorably tilted as you smile at him. It brings a little smile to his own face. He huffs out a brief chuckle and looks down at his boots, shifting his feet a little.

"Thank you, darlin', and you are just as beautiful as the day I first saw you." He gives you a pursed grin as if trying to contain his smile but failing. You blush and look away from him. You avert your gaze to the field just off to the side of the road, admiring the setting sun. The warm light makes you look as if you're glowing, and Sy can't seem to pry his eyes off of you. His eyes slowly find their way lowering, caressing your figure. "It's a damn shame you've wasted such a pretty little outfit on this."

Your head turns back to him with a scrunched nose smile and warm cheeks. Just then, the best idea pops into your head. "You know, it's not over yet." You pull out your phone, unlock it and open up your music app. "We still got time for a dance or two." You give him a teasing smile, glancing over your phone to him.

Sy shakes his head with furrowed brows. "You can't seriously be tryin' to get me to dance," He looks around, " out here."

"Oh, what?" You press play, setting your phone on the hood of the truck and stepping away from the vehicle. "Scared?" You reach for Sy's hand and weakly attempt to pull him to you. Sy lets you drag him off the truck with little resistance but doesn't let his face show how easily he's persuaded.

You close the distance between you two, Sy's hands finding themselves in yours. "Now, remember what I told you, darlin'.-"

"I know, I know." You hush him and pull him closer. "I don't care. Just dance with me." You squint at him, and he caves instantly, allowing you to bring his hands to your hips.

You tentatively leave your hands on his broad shoulders and begin swaying to the music, easing into a rhythm. You smile at him, gaining a timid grin back. Sy tries his best to follow your lead but is notably awkward and stiff. You can't help but giggle at this. "Hey, now, no laughin' at me." He says, trying his best to be stern but ultimately stiffling his own chuckle. You shake your head, trying to rid your body of its laughter.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry." You manage out through your badly contained giggles. Sy shakes his head at you with a smile.

Several songs and several close calls of him barely missing your toes pass before Sy finally loosens up enough for you to be a bit more experimental with your movements. You open the door to singing along to the songs you like the most. Sy surprises you with his own baritone singing voice, the shock on your face giving him the confidence to step back and spin you around.

When he pulls you back into his chest, admittedly a bit clumsily, you speak up, "Why didn't you tell me you had such a beautiful singing voice?" Due to the nature of the clumsy spin, you were tumbled into his chest, resting one hand over his heart and the other entangled with his. You could feel his heartbeat in your palm through his shirt. Its quick pace was endearing and sweet, causing yours to quicken as well. He gives you a bashful smile.

"I'm no singer, gorgeous." You scoff and roll your eyes.

"Oh, please. I quite literally just heard you. You're actively humming now!" You point out with a laugh. His chest rumbles with a chuckle. He shrugs and continues to hum along, leaving it at that. You give him a playful glare, which he ignores and only pulls you closer by your waist.

Not long after, the sun has disappeared to the point of turning the sky into a deep, royal blue, hinting at the dark night sky incoming. The headlights of the still running truck illuminate you two as you dance, creating your own personal spotlights.

Everything in this moment is sweet and wholesome. A day that started and continued to dampen Sy's mood ended up being one of the greatest he's had in forever, and every upside to this day is thanks to you. This was only your first date, but he knew from right then and there that he would one day make you his wife. He didn't want to scare you off, though, so he kept that thought to himself, twirling you around in the evening air.

Now that the sun was no longer providing its warm blanket, it started to chill. It could be smelt in the air before it began to fall. A spring shower was incoming.

Just as that fact became evident, little droplets started falling from the sky. At first, it was going ignored and partially unnoticed, but it couldn't be ignored for long as the droplets turned into a light sprinkle. "We should get back in the truck before things start getting worse." Sy announces, but you shake your head.

"No, no. Let's at least finish the song." You reply, giving him a bright smile. He melts and submits, letting you continue on with your singing and sways. He knows it's way too early to call it, but, God, he loves you.

Barely halfway through the song, rain starts coming down in clusters. The change happens within a blink of an eye and causes you and Sy to stop almost immediately. Sy pulls you in closer, flush against his strong body as if trying to protect you from the falling water. You let out a little squeak. "I think it's time to call it." He chuckles, ducking his head down to keep rain from hitting his eyes.

He starts leading you over to the passenger's side, keeping you as close as humanly possible the entire tread there. He throws the door open and damn near picks you up by your waist and throws you in. Just as your bum his the seat, you shout out, "My phone!"

Sy closes the door in response and runs back around the truck, grabbing your phone and jogging to the driver's side, hopping in and shutting the door behind him. He hands you your damp phone after doing a quick swipe on his jeans to get most of the water off of it.

You giggle as you take it from him, "Thank you." He chuckles with a head shake.

"You're a crazy little lady, aren't ya?" You tilt up your chin.

"Adventurous, Free Spirited, Yes." You proudly correct, matter-of-factly, earning another chuckle from Sy.

He looks over at you, convincing you your heart had stopped. His eyes hold nothing but pure adoration. You swear all your insides melted as soon as your gazes collided.

You both hold eye contact for what feels like an eternity. Time feels like a slow-motion movie scene, and despite the gloomy, blue hue from the rainy evening, the world suddenly has a rose tint.

You notice Sy's eyes drop from yours, down to your lips. You follow suit, but just as you were going to lean in, an angry shiver runs through you. Your eyes meet his again. A smile grows on his face. He scoots a bit closer to the middle of the bench seat to reach into the backseat, promptly grabbing a brownish Carrhart jacket and draping it over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent.

As soon as it's over you, you slip your arms into it and bring it tighter around you, using all your might to resist the urge to bring it up to your nose.

Sy gives you another award winning smile that brightens his eyes. He'd never liked his clothes on anyone else so much better than himself, but here you are.

You take this opportunity to scoot closer to him, meeting him in the middle of the bench. He raises an arm, inviting you into his side. You snuggle in close as he rests his arm around you.

Sy reaches forward to turn the heat on low to try and help you both dry off a bit faster without overheating. You being so cuddled up to him warms the pit of his belly. He smiles down at you before tilting his head to rest on top of yours. "This has got to be the best first date I've ever been on." You confess. He chuckles, the rattling in his chest causing your head to bounce slightly. He sighs, content and whole.

"Hopefully, the first of many."

--💕👢💕--

I hope you liked it!!😫💕

[urgonnaneedabiggership]

And All The Fears You Hold So Dear

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language. Angst. Unplanned Pregnancy. Mild violence. Also there's like a smidge of nsfw talk there but thought I'd let you know beforehand just in case.

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Part Three and Final Installment of something that started as a one-shot and somehow escalated into this¿¿

I just want to thank you for all your very kind comments and let you know that I got a couple requests that I'll be working on, so this might not be the last you see of me. Ily <3

also i cried so much writing this now you have to suffer like i did. xo

Right after the tears finally stopped coming, the emotional exhaustion translated into an intense weariness that made you collapse on the sofa. That hour spent out of consciousness was a blissful interlude in the pain that had your chest hurting and leaving you unable to breathe.  You’d once read somewhere that there was something called “phantom limb syndrome” in which people could feel pain in an amputated hand, arm, or leg. When you woke up, you looked out at the now dark sky and thought of giving Miguel a call to tell him about what an awful day you were having until the memories came back like a harrowing tsunami that had you tearing up when you wondered for how long you’d have to keep reminding yourself that he wasn’t there anymore. This time, however, you became angry. And oddly self-assured.

You didn’t need him. You’d given him a choice, and if a sad, pitiful, lonely life was what he wanted, then good riddance. His loss.

You could do this. Jessica’s pregnancy hadn’t stopped her after all. Sure, it would be challenging but there were mothers out there who took care of one or more children and balanced several jobs didn’t they? So what if you moonlighted as a vigilante whose life was on the line every day? What if you’d have to spend the rest of your life protecting him or her from the bunch of fairly dangerous enemies you’d made in the past months?

Or maybe you didn’t have to.

Your eyes wandered off to your suit which you’d mindlessly thrown on the floor the second you’d arrived home, scrutinizing the details and the care that you’d put into creating it. You wondered what it would look like inside a box, hidden in the back of the closet for years, or until your kid stumbled upon it and asked about mommy’s dutifully hidden past.

An obnoxious beeping sound coming from between the cushions snapped you out of your fantasy as you fished your watch. You hadn’t even realized you’d taken it with you and now it was issuing a warning concerning an anomaly with an amazing timing that had decided to pop into your dimension.

Placing a hand on your stomach, you looked out of the window and doubtfully pressed your lips together.

“Shit. Please, let it be a Vulture that’s literally a vulture, please,” you pleaded with whatever deity chose to listen to you as you picked up your suit and rushed to the bathroom, mindlessly throwing the test into the trash can before pulling the mask over your head.

Unfortunately, you didn’t arrive at the location to find a confused scavenging bird flapping around. You weren’t even sure of what you’d been sent to capture. At the scene, several police cars had formed a barricade outside of an empty warehouse and seemed to be lying in wait, aiming at the door with their guns. Good. That meant you could get in there and set things straight with the unwanted visitor before anybody got hurt.

You stealthily made your way from a nearby ledge to the roof, finding your way in through a broken skylight and landing on top of a pile of metallic crates solid enough to hold your weight but making your entrance noisier than you would’ve liked.

Whatever you were looking for, it was nowhere to be seen. The warehouse was in such darkness that, if it wasn’t for the night-vision lenses Miguel had fitted into your mask, you wouldn’t be able to see further than your own nose. They had come in pretty handy, and you couldn’t believe you’d been so opposed to getting them.

“(Y/N) it’s just one small modification, give me one reason not to.”

“Because you’ve already done too much!”

“Oh come on, it will take me what? Twenty minutes?”

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I mean you’ve done too much to my suit, Miguel. First, the emergency parachute, next the spine and nape reinforcements, then you literally said ‘You know what? How about we just redo the whole thing with fireproof fabric?’ and now another modification?”

“He added memory foam insoles too, said you wouldn’t notice, I’m with you on this one” Lyla chimed in.

You pressed your lips together to fight back a satisfied smile while Miguel glared daggers at the AI assistant, who refused to back down.

“She still remembers please and thank you, alright?”

“Lyla, will you please go check if there’s a faulty connection or a leaky pipe somewhere? Thank you.”

After throwing a sickly sweet smile his way, she vanished.

“Alright then,” Miguel continued arguing, “I’m sorry for offering to install state-of-the-art, potentially lifesaving enhancements to your suit. What was I thinking, not wanting my girlfriend to die?”

He lifted his hands in defeat and retreated to the other side of the room, minimizing the digital blueprints of the new glasses.

“And for the record,” He continued, “I didn’t do all the work for your new suit, you designed it, remember? I had no idea of what a ‘basque waistline’ was,”

When he finished talking, he was surprised to hear absolutely nothing coming from your side. Furrowing his eyebrows, he turned to see you still leaning against the metallic table on top of which your suit rested. You were staring at him with a surprised expression that only baffled him further when he noticed the bright blush spreading around your cheeks and down to your neck. Then it dawned on him.

“Oh shit, I’ve never called you that before, have I?”

“No, you haven’t,”

Of course, that small window of vulnerability was all he needed.

“Please let me put the lenses on your suit?”

What he didn’t know was that you can see both ways through a window. When he earnestly pleaded with you to let him install the stupid attachment, his true motives were as clear as if you’d heard them straight from his mouth.

Last time I wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t plan ahead. If something happens to you and I have the slightest notion that I didn’t do absolutely everything in my power to keep you safe…please. Do this for me, would you? For my own, selfish peace of mind?

And he’d been right. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something dart from behind one container to the next one.

“I see you,” You announced, rolling your shoulders as your Spider-Sense began acting up, “Listen, you’re probably feeling confused right now and if you come out we could…”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence as something heavy and cold tackled you onto the ground. Instinctively, you rolled over just in time for something sharp the size of a harpoon to stab the ground next to your head strong enough to pierce the concrete. Without wasting one more second, you jumped on top of a container to take a better look at whatever the hell that was just to find that same spot completely empty. Whatever it was, it was fast. Wincing at the sharp pain in your shoulder, you reminded yourself you had to be more careful and avoid taking strong hits like that.

However, you couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. And, as if to affirm that thought as quickly as it came, your sense warned you of something coming at you from behind. Before it could take you by surprise again, you swiftly moved out of the way and shot webs twice to try and pin it down so you could at least take a good look at what you were up against.

“What in the…?” You gasped as you stared at what you’d captured. Before you, a 20-foot-long pale yellow scorpion furiously trashed about as it tried to free itself from your webs. Not even five seconds after you spotted it, the critter broke free of its restraints and disappeared behind another container. Well, reasoning and trying to bring him in peacefully wasn’t going to work with this one. For now, you knew that it was going to try and keep attacking you, so the best you could do for now was to keep an eye on him before he could plunge that hideous stinger through your forehead. Especially since the little shit was remarkably fast. What was that thing Miguel always told you to do?

“No, remember. You’ve got to think further, think two steps ahead,”

“You know, Miguel, repeating that a million times isn’t going to suddenly give me the ability to see ten seconds into the future,” you muttered, taking the hand he reached out to help you get up. With a wince, you placed a hand on your shoulder and rolled it until it popped.

“It’s not about seeing into the future, (Y/N), it’s about finding unprotected spots and patterns,”

“How come outside I’m love, gorgeous or mi chiquita preciosa de ojitos bonitos, but the minute we’re in here I’m back to being (Y/N),”

“First of all, that last one never happened, we agreed on it, I was in…a vulnerable…”

“You were drunk, you can say it, I won’t tell,”

He glared at you in a way you knew meant ‘won’t you?’. Hopefully, he’d never find out you’d told Peter every last detail of his drunken silliness as soon as you had the chance.

“Second of all, here you’re just like anybody else. You mean nothing to me and I mean nothing to you because that’s how the attackers are going to see you, as an obstacle to get out of the way. Now focus. I’m going to attack you again,”

While knowing beforehand he was going to come at you gave you some advantage, you managed to block the blow he launched at your head. Before he could try again, you noticed his next attempt at an attack was leaving his legs completely exposed. Then, you did what Jess had taught you to do whenever you faced somebody taller than you: go for the knees. You crouched and, with a classic foot sweep, managed to make him lose his balance just enough for you to hook your legs on either side of his and take him down.

You were so tired you couldn’t even gloat properly, instead settling for smiling to yourself and releasing a short, triumphant, ‘ha!’ with your last breath before crawling over to him and sitting next to his lying body.

“You know, if I’m supposed to think two movements ahead,” You say, a beckoning look in your eyes, “I think it’s safe to predict you’re going tell me that there’s nothing more you can teach me, and then carry me to your quarters to do absolutely unspeakable things to me,”

Honestly, it had been stupid of you to think he would give up that easily. Not even two seconds later, it was your back that was pressed against the floor as his large frame covered you, and his hand held your wrists on top of your head. Then he leaned in, painfully slowly, until he was close enough for you to feel the heat that radiated from his skin, a low chuckle left his throat.

“Chula, you don’t know half of all the things I can teach you. But this isn’t the place for most of them. Let’s get moving.”

Thankfully, you forced your brain to focus on the matter at hand before it could replay the entire memory.

Two steps ahead (Y/N), come on.

That thing always attacked with the stinger first. Then it would probably try to immobilize you with its pincers. Quickly tracing a plan inside your head, you started to roam the dark warehouse looking for the missing critter, your spider-sense as sharp as ever as you looked behind every crate and container only to find nothing. Maybe it had left the building without you noticing? Outside, the police still remained alert and in wait. There was no way it could have left without being seen.

Fine. If you couldn’t find him, then he could come and find you. Making your way to the center of the empty space, you remained perfectly still and waited for your sense to tell you where the beast was coming from. The wait was short-lived as you felt a sharp wave of shivers running down your right arm, your entire body shifting to face that side just in time to shoot enough web to completely wrap the entire stinger and leave enough web for you to jump and throw over a beam, leaving the scorpion hanging upside down while aggressively pinching the air around him with its pincers. Unwilling to take any risks, you covered them as well. You had to stand there and catch your breath for a few seconds before looking over to your watch to report you’d successfully captured the anomaly. Only then you had the chance to see that you had several missing calls from Peter.

“(Y/N)?” Peter asked when the call went in almost immediately, “Where have you been? I tried calling but you didn’t answer,”

“Yeah, sorry for going AWOL. I’ve been…busy. I caught something back here. I just reported it,” Behind you, you could hear the scorpion still struggling to free itself, “It’s an ugly one, Mayday’s going to love it.”

“(Y/N), listen, I think you should come back here. You and Miguel should try to talk…”

“P.B., I love you but I really don’t want to talk about that right now. Okay? How about you come over here and help me drag this feisty little shit back to the HQ so we can send it home? You won’t believe it; it has to weigh at least…”

When you turned around to proudly stare at your prisoner, you were met with nothing but a lone stinger, eerily dangling from the ceiling. Your proud smile faded as quickly as it had arrived. Before you could open your eyes to say anything else, you found yourself trapped between two cold surfaces that painfully squeezed all the air out of your lungs as you let out a painful yell. You desperately grabbed each side of the pincer, trying to pry them open to release yourself to no avail. With your brain already starting to run low on oxygen, your strength began to fade. You heard Peter questioningly say your name from the device still attached to your wrist, but he sounded as if you’d been submerged underwater. And his voice sounded as if it was further, and further away. You were falling into a deep and dark lake, air deprived and without enough strength to swim to the surface. So you let yourself sink further, close your eyes and let darkness engulf you as you keep going down.

You’d wondered once or twice what would come after life. Since there was no way for you to be certain about anything, you decided to believe what sounded the most comforting. You would wake up in a beautiful place, full of light, that smelled like freshly baked cookies all the time because you would be sitting at a kitchen table with all the people that you lost along the way, and it was time for all of you to have cookies with whatever you wanted to drink, maybe you just hung out in silence, or you would discuss all the wisdom that the act of passing away seemed to come with…the point was that in no scenario did heaven smell like antiseptic.

This discrepancy was what made you start slowly blinking as you furrowed your eyebrows, the intense white light surrounding you making your head spin. Eventually, you were able to discern some shadows that slowly morphed into a familiar face.

“Hey, welcome back,” Jessica gently greeted you from a chair in the corner of the room. The hospital room. Like they’d done hours before when you woke up from your nap, a new wave of unpleasant memories came crashing down once more as you tried to sit up with a worried expression.

“Is…are we both okay?” It wasn’t until you tried to ask that you noticed a certain reluctance at saying the word.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Jess immediately assured you. Then why did she look so troubled?

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, rolling her chair closer and grabbing your hand gently, “Honey, of all people you know I would’ve understood,”

“Jess, I’m so scared,” Was all you came up with before shutting your eyes and clamping your lips together to keep the sobs inside, tears already beginning to fall from your cheeks, “This wasn’t supposed to happen, I don’t know how I’m going to handle this, how am I supposed to do this if I can’t even take down a lousy scorpion without getting myself killed?”

With a reassuring smile, the woman tried to hug you as much as her pregnancy allowed her, comfortingly running one hand down your hair and rubbing your back with the other.

“See? You’re great at this already and your kid isn’t even here,” You sobbed against her shoulder, too exhausted to return the embrace.

“What makes you think you won’t be?” She asked, pulling away to give you some space and much-needed room to breathe.

And you knew the exact reason. It came to you so fast and with such clarity that it scared you. But maybe she would understand that too. However, right as you opened your mouth to speak, a soft click coming from the door interrupted you right before it opened, leaving you completely exposed to the thorough, scrutinizing look of the man that hours ago you thought you’d never lay eyes on again.

You turned at Jess, hoping she’d create an excuse for him to leave you alone. You weren’t done talking to her. You desperately wanted her to stay. However, she’d already turned to look at him and left her chair.

“I’ll give you a moment,” She said and, after gently caressing your shoulder one last time, left the room.

And then there were two.

For the life of you, you couldn’t think of one single thing to say, much less anticipate what his next move would be. Yet, your eyes never left his. Your jaw hurt from how hard you had to clench it to keep yourself from bursting into tears again. Fuck, could the hormones be acting up already? Right when you were starting to wonder if, should neither of you say something, you would just stay there in this staring contest until the end of time, Miguel spoke.

“How long have you known?”

“A day. Or so.” You blurted out so quickly that he wasn’t done speaking when you replied. It wasn’t until his eyes left yours and wandered down that you realized you’d been clutching your pale blue gown the entire time. As you slowly let go of it, you realized your hands were shaking.

“And you didn’t say anything?” He asked again, his voice turning one octave higher right in the middle of the question.

“Well, I found out not so long ago, and immediately after I was called here to help so I thought we had bigger problems and this could wait. But then you said we had been a mistake all along so I imagined I was on my own for this one. And I think that pretty much covers it.”

Silently, he took a seat on the chair next to the hospital bed.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” He replied, not looking at you but at an empty spot on the wall, “Back there, when I realized you were gone something didn’t make sense. You’ve pushed back much harder for less important things and now you just turned around and left? And with this, it makes even less sense. Even out of spite, you would’ve told me before leaving.”

You hated how well he knew you, and how right he was. And how what he said didn’t make you angry, but instead make you confront the harrowing confession you’d left unfinished before he walked in.

“What if you were right?” You asked taking a deep, shaky breath, “I didn’t intend for this to happen, you know? It just did. What we had was manageable because at least it was just between us, no third parties affected, if anything went wrong with the timeline and such we could call it off and that was that. But now there was something tangible real coming out of this and I panicked because what if it messed everything up? What if we’d made a mistake? But I just didn’t want to think about it until you sort of confirmed it,”

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry in front of him while having this conversation. You tried to focus on anything else to cope with his seemingly endless silence, anything but his slouching shape next to you. The soft fabric of your sheets, or the faint whirring of the monitor next to you displaying your vitals. Now you focused on your breaths. Long, deep breaths.

“So,” He finally spoke in a hoarse voice you were sure you’d never heard before, and you were so taken aback by it that you turned to look at him before you could stop yourself to find a strange, oddly endearing sight. He was crying. Well, maybe that was a bit of a stretch but there were definitely tears in his eyes and even if he was better at hiding it, you were sure he was struggling to keep them confined there as much as you were. Suddenly self-aware of the change in his voice, he cleared his throat before continuing.

“So, we’re having a baby?”

He sounded so expectant, and yet so afraid of the answer. He was absolutely terrified. You could see it in his eyes. This man, who faced life-risking challenges every day and had seen enough for several lifetimes, had never seemed so frightened. The thought, for some reason, made you laugh as you shuddered when you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Seems like it,” came the reply in such a croaky voice that it left you no choice but to laugh a little bit more.

This time he laughed too, although you could barely catch a glimpse of his smile before being engulfed in a hug that made you wish you weren’t in such a state so you could pull him as close to you as you really wanted. Instead, you settled for resting your forehead against his shoulder as he pulled away enough to plant several small and warm kisses on your temple.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, “God, I swear I didn’t mean one single word. Whatever happens next, we’ll deal with it as it comes, I don’t care, right now all I know is none of this would’ve been worth it if it hadn’t brought me here to you,”  

“Hey, don’t get sentimental on me, O’Hara,” you jokingly said, pulling away to be able to look into his eyes, “We’re going to be just fine,”

“I won’t if you keep doing stupid shit like this, (Y/N), ¿qué carajos te pasa? ‘we’re going to be just fine’ Claro, si por tu culpa no me da un infarto primero,“ He scolded you, leaving his seat, “You know you’re benched, right? You’re staying right here, where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you stay out of trouble,”

“What about my dimension? There are plenty of non-interdimensional criminals there desperate to be caught,” You complained.

“Well, I’m afraid the NYPD’s going to have to figure it out for themselves for the next few months. Might even teach them to appreciate you a little more.”

“And if there’s another anomaly?”

“Dios mío, mujer,” He impatiently argued back, “I’ll go then. Or we’ll send somebody else. You’re staying here. Period.”

“Fine,” You huffed, not pleased at all with the order despite knowing you’d been very lucky this time, “But just for three months,”

“Six,” He stubbornly insisted.

“Five, but Peter’s going to be the godfather and you have to tell him.”

A disgruntled sigh echoes throughout the room.

“Fine,”

Taglist: @anywherebuthere @khaleesihavilliard @spookyboogyuniverse @sunshiines-stuff @letharue @withbeautyandrage

[delulu-with-wandanat]

Hey. So how about big sis Natasha and little sis reader. (They live in an orphanage called the red room)

Jock Nat finds out that her nerd little sis is getting bullied by the cheer squad. Protective Nat isn't having any of it ..... even if she has to fight with her best friend, cheer cap Wanda ...... ?

Please and thank you 😊

Sweater Weather

Reader Description: She/her, nerdy, often wears an outer, freshman.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Sister!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Bullying, mentions of suicide.

Summary: Wanda and Natasha are friends, maybe even more. People love a classic jock and cheerleader trope. However when Natasha finds out that Wanda's little groupie had been bullying her little sister, it puts a strain on their relationship. Will Wanda be able to redeem herself?

⧗ᗢ⧗ᗢ⧗

They always said high school was the best time of your life, at least that's what they said in movies or whatever the hell that guy said in that crappy TV show, 'Highs and lows of high school football'.

Y/n thought it was stupid. The show, and high school. It could be that it's true, that this was supposed to be the best time of her life. Yet perhaps that only applies to the popular kids and the jocks who wouldn't stop reminiscing about the 'good old times.'

The amount of alumni that would go back to her class and just talk to the teacher even though they only graduated like a few months ago was insane. And most of the time Y/n could tell they are one of those popular kids. Y/n could only hope her sister doesn't end up like that when she graduates.

Natasha Romanoff, star of Westview High. Captain of the softball team. And is probably dating the hot cheerleader captain, Wanda Maximoff. Natasha is proud, confident, she strides through the hallway like she owns the school. Contrast to her sisters who stray away from the spotlight, Yelena Belova and Y/n Romanoff.

Well... perhaps only Y/n. If Y/n would put them into high school stereotypes, Yelena would probably fall under the 'Cool' kids category. One where people know her and thought she's fun to be around with, she's funny, sarcastic. People knew Yelena, and Yelena knew people, but only sticks to her group of friends and not all that into popularity. Y/n thinks that's the best type of category to be in.

You fit in with everyone, and everyone just chills with you. Unfortunately for Y/n, she got the worst hierarchy in high school society.

The nerds.

Being a nerd isn't necessarily a bad thing... Well, that's what her sisters always tells her at least. But really it's hard to believe that when she gets cornered by two cheerleaders in the bathroom, how cliche.

"Hey girl!" Shannon, probably the bitchiest out of the whole cheerleading squad. "What are you doingg?" She asked with faux interest.

Y/n doesn't answer and merely kept her head down while she washes her hand.

"Don't be rude!" The other cheerleader bumped her hips while giggling to Shannon. "Oh. My. God. I LOVE your sweater, where'd you get it?"

Christ, they literally are a walking stereotype. Y/n knew they weren't interested in her sweater, this was just one of those teasing that these plastic bitches love to do. "It was my mother's..."

"And was your mom like... an old hag?" Well that was just too far, the only thing Y/n had from her birth mother was this sweater after she died in the house fire. Y/n stayed silent.

The two kept giggling while side eyeing her on the side, occasionally re-applying their make up in the mirror. Y/n quickly finishes up, not wanting to be around them any longer. She quickly left the bathroom but she heard the two giggling and talking about her behind her back.

This has been going on for months ever since she started high school. Honestly, Y/n should be used to it at this point. But that comment about her sweater crossed the line and she needed to leave quick before things escalated.

Y/n spent the rest of the day with her head down, minding her own business and eating lunch alone at the cafeteria. Normally she would sit with her friends, Shuri and Peter, the two other nerds, but they were attending some competition at the moment.

All the while, Natasha was sitting at a different table with her group of friends which was mostly made up of her teammates and the some of the Baseball boys.

"All I'm saying is if you don't ask her out, I will." Carol said with a mouthful of food.

"And I will kick you out of the team, Danvers." Natasha narrowed her eyes at Carol.

"Seriously, just ask her out. The tension is so thick I can practically punch through it."

Natasha merely rolled her eyes, but her gaze ended up locking onto a brunette who was sitting at another table. Green orbs met hers, and Wanda gave her the sweetest smile. Natasha couldn't help but to avert her gaze whilst trying to hide the grin creeping onto her face.

"Ugh, I'm going to barf." Clint said as he fake gagged. Natasha punched his shoulder lightly and he winced.

"Shut up before I show Laura that horrendous hair you had in 6th grade."

"Don't you fucking dare-"

The group fell into an easy conversation, talking about their plans after school. Showing each other funny videos they found while scrolling through social medias. Everything wasn’t out of the ordinary until suddenly they heard yelling from another table.

"Leave me alone!" The voice yelled, normally Natasha would ignore it but when the voice belonged to her little sister, her head snapped to the source.

The cafeteria was silence, some whispers could be heard. The cheerleader table fell into a hushed giggling, occasionally glancing at Y/n's table. Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly and returned her gaze to Y/n. She could see Shannon Carter sitting at the same table with her, wait are they friends or...??

"Was that Y/n?" She heard Clint's voice.

Y/n was quickly got up from her seat, feeling uncomfortable at the amount of eyes on her. She was in the verge of tears, but manages to hold it through until she was out of sight. Natasha quickly got up from her seat, which caught the attention of the rest of the group.

"Where are you going??" Carol asked.

"I'm just gonna check up on my sister." Her friends simply nod, knowing how protective Natasha is over her family.

Natasha made a note to slow her walk as she passed the cheerleader table, with her perceptive ear she manages to caught a few sentence. "She's probably so poor, that's why she has no other clothes to wear." She heard Shannon said. Fashion police much? Especially when she dresses like a basic bitch-

"Maybe it's vintage." She heard Wanda responded with a little bit of an attitude. Wanda notices Natasha passing by and greeted her, only for Natasha to glare and ignore her. She may like Wanda, but no one messes with her little sister.

She navigates her way through the hallway, trying to find Y/n. Damn it where is she?

Think, Natasha, think! Where would she go?

She trusted her instinct and it led her to the music room, surely enough, someone was playing the piano. Natasha peeked through the window and saw a glimpse of a familiar y/h/c hair, she opened the door and her sister was slightly alarmed, but ultimately let out a sigh of relief upon noticing it was only Natasha.

"Hey Nat."

Natasha gently smiled and took a seat beside her. Y/n's hand danced on the keys gracefully, filling the room with soft tunes.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

Y/n shook her head, and Natasha didn't budged. Natasha simply let her head rest on Y/n's shoulder listening to her play. Y/n finishes and started to play another piece, one that was special to them. Natasha recognize the song as soon as Y/n played the intro. 'Love of my life' by Queen.

"Mom would be proud of you." Natasha said in a soft tone.

Y/n didn't answer, yet she had a soft smile on her face as she played the piano. Their mother used to play this song when they were younger. Natasha, Yelena, and Y/n would huddle around her and watched as their mother skillfully moved her fingers across the keys. They would fight over who could play the piano first, as they all wanted to be as skilled as their mother.

But ultimately, Y/n was the only one who inherited her talents. They didn’t talk and only enjoyed the soft tunes of from the piano for a little while, with Natasha occasionally humming to the lyrics.

When the song ended, the room was filled with silence. After a few moments, Y/n finally spoke up. “I don’t… Feel like going back today.”

Natasha nodded, she knew Y/n had meant the orphanage. They refused to call that dump a home. That orphanage shouldn’t even exist in the first place.

“You want to crash at Clint’s?”

“I’m not that close with him, beside, I kinda feel bad to his parents.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright, you want me to ask him?”

Y/n nodded and let out the breath she was holding, one less thing to worry about. “I didn’t mean to make a scene, they just went too far today.”

Natasha’s eyes shifted in confusion, she lift up her head that was resting on her sister’s shoulder to face her. “What do you mean?”

“They kept teasing me about the sweater, cause I kept wearing it almost everyday.”

“Well they should mind their own business.” Natasha said with a slight venom in her voice.

“It’s ok, I’m used to it. It’s just because It’s mom’s y’know?”

Wait… “What? What do you mean by used to it??”

“I mean, it’s not a big deal-“

“No.” Natasha said firmly and turned to face Y/n fully. “No, it is a big deal. You’re telling me they’ve been bullying you?”

The younger Romanoff sighed, “You could call it that. But they never went as far as teasing, Nat. It’s fine.” Y/n knew how over protective her big sister could be.

In the Red Room, Natasha would not hesitate to punch someone if they messed with Y/n or Yelena. The other girls at the orphanage was afraid of Natasha because of it. As much as Y/n appreciates it, she didn’t exactly wanted to be known only as Natasha’s puny little sister.

Especially now that she’s in high school, where she could make a name for herself. Unfortunately high school stereotypes chooses you, not the other way around.

“Please just don't make a fuss about it.” Y/n said, hoping to change the subject but to no avail. Natasha was stubborn.

“It was Shannon Carter wasn’t it? I saw her sitting next to you before you left.” Oh well rest in peace Shannon. No point in trying to cover her fake ass now-

“If I say yes will you promise not to do anything?” Natasha gritted her teeth, she was about to protest but Y/n cut her off. “Nat, I'm being serious. I really, REALLY, just want to stay out of drama. Living in the orphanage is already hell, I don't need the teasing to go further because they know I'm your little sister."

Shannon better thank the gods because if not for Y/n, she would've need to book a plastic surgery appointment. Natasha reluctantly agreed to drop the subject. What matters now is cheering up Y/n.

An idea popped up in her head and Natasha playfully bumped their shoulders, "Hey, you wanna skip school?" She asked with a smirk.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "Wouldn't we get in trouble?"

"Only if you get caught. Come on! I'm pretty sure Yelena's skipping too." It took a while to convince the younger Romanoff, but eventually they were out of the school's boundaries in no time. It was kind of embarrassing that her first time skipping school was with her big sisters, but nevertheless, Y/n thought it was fun.

And she wouldn't want it any other way.

Three days later, Natasha had been trying to avoid Wanda and her cheer squad. Because if she didn't, she would've probably punch Shannon Carter straight in the face. Unfortunately for her, fate wasn't exactly on her side.

While Natasha was opening her locker, Wanda approached her with that adorable smile. "Hey." Wanda greeted her shyly. It was strange really, the girl was different when she wasn't around her friends. Natasha found it rather adorable to see this other side of Wanda.

"Hi." Natasha responded with a kind smile, ok she may be a little upset at Wanda. But really, can you blame her? Wanda's extremely cute.

"Uh... I was just wondering if you wanted to go somewhere after practice, maybe get some food or whatever?" Wanda asked with hopeful eyes.

Natasha desperately wanted to say no. Mainly because she didn't want to associate with people who are friends with her sister's bully, unfortunately she is merely a teenager with raging hormones. "Yeah, sure."

Wanda then beamed in delight, "Ok! So uh, I'll see you then." They both then went to their respective class, both with a smile on their face.

Practice was hell that day, I mean fuck, she gets that competition was around the corner but today's drill was insane. At this point, Natasha thinks their coach is just trying to kill them. Thankfully they were done for the day and she's got a date with a hot cheer captain.

Natasha finishes up in the locker room with the other softball girls, they had to change rather quickly as they shared the locker room with the cheerleaders. Though they didn't mind sharing, it just gets a little crowded. Natasha felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to be greeted by those beautiful green eyes.

"Hey! I won't take long. Meet you outside?" Wanda asked.

Natasha nods, "Sure, I'm just finishing up. Text me when you're done." She responded rather shyly, only Wanda Maximoff could make her all fuzzy feeling.

Wanda smiled at her and returned to her place with her friends. Natasha went back to packing up the last of her equipments. Pants, towel, glove, and- shit where's my shoes?

"Did you guys see Y/n today?" Natasha tensed the moment she heard Shannon's voice.

"About time she wash that sweater." Another cheerleader said.

"Honestly, I bet it smells so bad." Sharron giggles. "It's not like her taste got any better, all of her clothes looked worn down."

"Guys stop it." Wanda said, gaining attention from her friends. Oh ok good to know she wasn't- "It's called being indie." Fucking hell, Natasha clenched her jaw. Trying to hide her disappointment.

The girls giggled and another one spoke up, "Does her parents not love her enough to buy her new clothes."

"I heard her parents died."

"If I was her mother, I would've killed myself too-" Sharron was quickly slammed against the locker by none other than Natasha Romanoff. Causing all the girls to look at her in shock. "What the fu-"

Natasha couldn't contain her anger and gave her another rough shoved, she didn't care that Wanda was witnessing the whole confrontation. "Go on. What else do you have to say, Carter?"

Sharron was lost for words, she could barely utter a word. "I-"

"What more do you have to say about my sister?" Shit.

"S-Sister?" Sharron manages to ask.

"If you so much as glance at her I won't hesitate to permanently damage your face. Got it?" Sharron didn't need to be told twice. The venom in Natasha's voice scared her to her core. She nodded frantically. "Same goes for the rest of you." That was all that Natasha said before hastily taking her leave.

The audacity of these girls.

Natasha stomps her way out of the locker room. She was filled with too much anger and disappointment. One, they insulted her sister. Two, they brought up her parents as well. And three, the fact that Wanda was no better than them. Her friend, her best friend, one she had a crush on, and maybe even love. Was a down right bitc-

"Natasha wait!" Speak of the devil.

Natasha tried to ignore her and made her way out of the school through the field. Wanda manages to catch up to her and pulled her to a stop. Yet Natasha pulled her hand away just as quick, it tore Wanda's heart. "What the hell do you want?!"

"Natasha please, I- I didn't know Y/n was your sister-" Wanda tried to reason. That made her furious.

"And if she wasn't, would it make in any better to bully someone?" Natasha asked. "Just- Leave me alone. I don't want to associate myself with someone like you." Natasha spat.

Wanda knew she was wrong, there's no denying that. But she didn't want to lose Natasha, her best friend. "Tasha, wait please just listen!"

"I have nothing more to say." Natasha started walking away again towards the parking lot, and she made it clear nothing Wanda had to say would make her listen. So, Wanda ran to stand in front of her to stop her track. Guilt smeared across her face.

"Look, I'm sorry. I really am!" She pleaded.

"I'm not the one you owe an apology too."

"I will, I promise. I just- I don't want to lose our friendship..."

Neither did Natasha. She genuinely liked Wanda, their friendship, and... well, Wanda. But nobody messes with her family. "You did that when you bullied my sister."

Wanda tried to defend herself, because yes she maybe have joined the conversation with her friends just to stay on topic, but she never actually teased Y/n. She never outright bullied her, or corner her in the bathroom. All she did was chime in here and there when their friends talked shit about other people. It doesn't make it any better, In any way It was pathetic.

But can you really blame her? She was merely a teenager trying to fit in.

Before Wanda could even explain herself, Natasha held up her hand to stop her. "Safe it. I don't ever want to speak to you."

"No... No, please. Natasha just listen-" Wanda was cut off by a honk of a car. They glanced to see Clint in a car with the window's down.

"Come on, lovebirds! I'm your chauffeur for the night." He clearly missed out on a few episodes.

Natasha quickly approached the car and got into the passenger seat. "Just drive, Clint. Date's canceled."

One of the things Natasha appreciates from Clint is that he understood her better than anyone. And seeing Natasha's distressed face, he drove out of the parking lot without another word. He gave Wanda a quick look of apology before rolling up his window.

Wanda watched as Clint's car drove out of the school boundaries. She felt sick to her stomach, tears pooling in her eyes. Wanda's heart broke into a million pieces. Not only did Natasha hated her, but she also ruined their friendship.

What can she do to restore it?

Hellooo, sorry this took a whilee. I've had many projects to do it makes my brain dead to write anything. Anyway I hope you enjoy this one! I'm planning to make a part 2, hopefully their relationship is not doomed😩