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bizbat · 9 months

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All Wrapped up

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

~ Explicit smut

~ Reader is alluded to be smaller than Bruce, but appearance is otherwise not described

~ Reader wears a dress and makeup

~ Partially based on these headcanons

~ You can find more of my works here

~ Wc: 3.6k

C/W: Smut, PiV penetration, Mdom, Healthy Dom/Sub dynamics (consent checks, aftercare, establishment of a safeword, etc.), Bondage, Oral (male & female receiving), Finger sucking, Fingering, Slight slapping, Spit, Face fucking, Slight humiliation, Praise and degradation, Pet names (Angel, Pretty, Baby, Girl/Good girl, Sir, Slut), Dacryphilia, Pussy job, Cervix fucking, Mating press, Slight Breeding, Creampie, Size difference

It's the holiday season, and what could be a better gift than you, all wrapped up in a pretty, red ribbon?

Bruce found himself collapsing into a plush chair, massaging his temples as he stared down into the crowd from his position on the balcony. He tugged at the neck of his fluffy, green, turtle neck, the one his wife, Y/n had begged him to wear. Apparently, they matched, as she was dressed in a gorgeous gown with a red, corseted bodice, and a flowing, green, tulle skirt.

As if sensing his dismay, Y/n climbed up the staircase leading to the balcony Bruce was hiding away on, her heels clicking against the marble floor alerting him of her presence. He didn't look up as she wrapped her arms around him from behind, the smell of her expensive perfume flooding his nose as she hugged him. He looked at her over his shoulder as she pulled away, taking in her appearance.

She looked perfect. He hair was curled and artfully pinned atop her head with ribbons, the bodice of her gown was tailored to her exactly, pushing her breasts up and together. It drew attention to her necklace that accentuated her neck, the gold bejeweled with bright red rubies that flattered her skin tone.

Y/n stroked Bruce's cheek with a gloved hand, a big, warm smile decorating her face as she kissed the tip of his nose, a smudge of lipgloss left in her wake. She giggled as he wiped it away with a cloth napkin on the table. Though, her smile dimmed a bit when she noticed the less than happy expression on her husband's face.

"I . . ." She looked down at the crowd of people over the balcony, people of all classes eating, drinking, and dancing together in the Wayne Manor ballroom. She had begged Bruce to throw a Christmas Gala, to have an open invitation so that it would be available to everyone, and not just the famous and wealthy, though now she could see that it really was begging to wear him down.

She ran her fingers through his hair, the perfectly slicked locks now wild from him running his hands through his hair multiple times. "Thank you, Bruce." She whispered, pressing her forehead to his. "I know you don't usually like these things, and you really didn't-"

"I wanted to." He cut her off as she began to ramble, a pout on her painted lips. "It's my gift." He stroked her chin with his thumb. "As long as you enjoy yourself, then I'll be happy."

Y/n nodded, though not fully convinced. Bruce hated galas, and parties, or public events of any kind, and he sacrificed valuable time so he could attend, and not just leave his wife to host it on her own. Y/n pressed her forehead to his once again, before hearing someone call her name from below. She turned to Bruce, who gave her his best reassuring smile, before quickly leaving his line of sight amongst the partygoers.

Bruce didn't see her the rest of the night, not even when the event came to an end and everyone began pouring out of the manor, gifts in hand. He had asked Alfred if he had seen her, but it seems the old man was just as clueless to her whereabouts as he was. Bruce tried not to think about all of the situations she could be in, his headache from earlier quickly worsening with every moment.

He was finally able to escape to his and Y/n's shared room once Damian and Duke were snug in bed, and the rest of his children were home for the night. He was still worried about her, though, as it was soon replaced with relief. And then, with arousal.

He found Y/n on their bed, her arms and legs constrained with a single red ribbon. In her mouth was another ribbon, preventing her from speaking as Bruce locked the door behind him, and traversed beside her on the bed, all while never taking his eyes off her. He chuckled to himself as he stroked her head, his eyes trailing her restrained figure.

"What is this, huh? Is this my gift?" Y/n nodded, her eyes wide as she stared up at Bruce's imposing figure, looming over her from the bedside. Bruce's fingers ghosted down her cheek before brushing against her lips, her lip gloss smudged and partially removed from the cloth ribbon between her teeth. He tugged the ribbon out of her mouth, replacing the fabric gag with his thumb.

His pants tightened as he watched her suck on his thumb without prompting. "Good girl," He cooed. "Such an obedient little slut for me." Y/n nodded around his finger, her eyes never leaving his as she circled his thumb with her tongue, hollowing her cheeks around the appendage.

Bruce pulled his thumb from her mouth, a string of spit connecting it to her tongue as she briefly chased after it. "You gonna be my good girl? Gonna use your words?" Bruce stroked Y/n's heir, the ribbons from earlier now absent. "Yes sir." She said, her eyes glossy and her cheeks and ears on fire. "Gonna be good. Gonna be your good girl."

"Then stick out your tongue for me, baby." Bruce commanded, leaning down and enveloping it in his own mouth when she immediately followed his orders. He palmed his stiffening cock through his pants. He hissed as he pulled away, unzipping his green pants and sliding them down just far enough to take his cock out.

He pumped his shaft to full firmness as he practically glared down at Y/n, watching as she bit her glossy lip in anticipation. He watched her squirm in her bindings, the red ribbon decorating her barse skin. It tied her wrists together in front of her, going down and tieing her knees and ankles as well.

Bruce groaned as he jerked himself off in front of his wife. "You gonna suck my cock pretty girl? Gonna make me feel good?" Y/n bit her lip so hard Bruce worried she might draw blood, as she rapidly nodded her head. Bruce brough his free hand down upon Y/n's cheek, just hard enough to sting. "Use your words, girl." He lightly squeezed her cheeks as he made her look at him.

"I wanna suck your cock, sir!" She wriggled around in her binding, her cunt growing slick as Bruce teased her with his cock. He smiled, brushing his thumb against his head, swiping off a bead of precum and pushing it between her lips.

He bit his own lip as Y/n tasted him. "That's it . . . that's my good fucking girl." Bruce straddled Y/n's chest, kneeling over her as he pressed his cock to her swollen lips. She opened her mouth wide for Bruce, sticking out her tongue as she waited for his permission.

Bruce rested his tip against her tongue, thrusting his hips lightly as pearls of his precum spread across her muscle, before pushing further into Y/n's mouth. He paused when she started to choke on his length, even though was only about halfway in. "Breath, baby. You can take it."

He grunted as she swallowed him deeper, breathing through her nose. "That's it . . . That's it."He held back her hair so he could see her entire face. "Just like that." He groaned, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver run up his spine.

He continued to mumble praises as she took him deeper and deeper down her throat, his hips thrusting in front of her face. He began to increase his pace, his ears burning as the sound of his wife gagging on his cock filled the room.

Bruce held Y/n's head still as he fucked her throat, spit dripping down her chin and pooling across her chest, glossing her tits and slicking her lips. He grunted as his muscles tightened, a sign of his impending orgasm.

He pulled out of Y/n's mouth, rapidly pumping his shaft before thick, white spurts of his creamy cum landed on her face and waiting tongue. "Don't." He warned when he saw her begin retracting her cum covered tongue back into her mouth.

Y/n's face was on fire, humiliation coursing through her veins as the cum mixed with the excess saliva on her tongue and began to drip down onto her and chest. She whined, pleading for Bruce to let her swallow. "What do you want, angel?" He lightly tapped her cheek, reminding her to speak. "You said you were gonna be good. I can't do anything unless you tell me what you want."

"Wan'-" She huffed, trying to speak with her tongue sticking out. "Wanna swallow. Wanna swallow your cum, sir." It was unclear, but Bruce deciphered her words, laughing at her as she shivered, pleading with wide, tear-struck eyes. "Just stay there a little longer baby," he panted, stroking her hair. "I wanna get a good look at you like this."

She looked even better like this, her hair messy from laying against the pillows, her hardened nipples showing through the soaked, red ribbon that laid across her chest. Bruce bit his lip and groaned, his cock still painfully hard.

Y/n's thighs rubbed together in an attempt to stimulate her neglected heat. "Bruce," she whined, drool and cum seeping across her body the longer her tongue was out. "Please sir . . . please let me swallow." Bruce reached a hand down between her thighs, his fingers just barely brushing against her cunt.

"There's my good girl. Go ahead, baby, since you asked so nicely."

Y/n pulled her tongue back into her mouth, savoring the taste of the cum that hadn't slipped off her tongue and onto her tits. Bruce pressed firmly on her clit, circling it with broad, slow circles. Y/n whined again, pleading for him to increase his speed. Bruce, tired of her misbehavior, lightly slapped her clit. "Last warning. Either take what I give you, or use your fucking words."

Bruce hovered his hand over her mound, threatening to smack her again should she continue to misbehave. "I-I'm s-sorry sir, I'll be good!" Bruce thought for a moment. "Come to think of it . . . maybe you don't even deserve to cum, huh? Maybe I should just fuck your mouth and not your pretty pussy, leave you squirming, all tied up so you can't touch yourself."

"Is that what you fucking want?" Bruce stroked her lower lips, teasing her by not touching her clit. "No sir!" Y/n furiously shook her head, flexing her hips to try and get Bruce to properly touch her. "I wanna cum! I want you to fuck my pussy, sir! Please!" Bruce leaned down, his forehead pressed against her own. "Then be good."

He punctuated his sentence with a final smack to her clit, rubbing rapid circles against her pearl before she could react. Bruce watched her face, stray tears slipping down her cheeks as her mouth hung open. "How's that feel, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Y/n thrashed in her bindings, rutting her hips against Bruce's skilled hand.

"Ngh~ Feels good, sir! Feels so good!" Y/n huffed, panting as Bruce brought her closer and closer to her first orgasm of the night. Bruce smirked, his pressure and speed increasing ever so slightly, just enough to bring his wife to the brink of climax. Sensing her orgasm, Bruce leaned forwards, catching her lips with his own as his fingers finally pushed Y/n over the edge, never slowing down as he helped her ride out her orgasm.

Once he felt her juices leak Bruce ripped down the red velvet that his her soft mounds from his sight, leaving the ribbon tying her wrists together, doing the same for her legs, untying her knees but leaving her ankles as her pushed her legs apart. He pushed in two long, thick fingers, curling them against that spongy spot inside of Y/n, and watching her every slight reaction.

"Sir, please! I'll be good! I'll be good, just, please!" Y/n begged, her legs spread wide for Bruce, his palm rubbing her clit as his fingers skillfully thrust in and out of her warm, slick walls. "Please what, pretty? What do you need?" Bruce grunted as he kneeled above her, one hand between her thighs, one hand gripping the wooden headboard, the wood lightly splintering from his tight grip.

"I need your cock, sir! Please fuck me already!" Bruce chuckled, feeling her heat squeeze around his fingers. "You want my cock? You want me to fuck you like the little slut you are?" The sound of his palm slapping against Y/n's clit as he finger fucked her filled the room. The sound of Y/n's desperate huffs and moans was like music to his ears, the tears streaming down her face more beautiful than any original in his gallery.

A desperate "Yes sir!" slipping past her lips without her even having to think about it. Bruce smirked, continuing to finger her as he moved his thumb to circle her aching, neglected clit. "Almost pretty, almost. Wanna taste you first." Bruce released the headboard, holding both of her wrists in one, large hand. "Can you be patient for me, baby? Let me taste you?"

Bruce somehow further increased his pace, loud squelches echoing in the large room. "Fuck!" He groaned, feeling Y/n tighten around his fingers once again as she rapidly approached her second orgasm. "Come on, baby! Let me fucking taste you." He continued thrusting his fingers for a few more moments, quickly pulling them out when Y/n whimpered out a "yes, sir".

He let go of her wrists, ripping off his sweat soaked sweater as he moved to lay on his stomach between Y/n's legs. He flattened his tongue, licking a long, firm stripe up her soaking wet cunt. He wrapped his laps around her clit, sucking her nub before releasing with a wet 'pop'.

He lifted her thighs, shoving his tongue into her hole as deep as possible, before replacing it with his fingers. He carefully thrusted his fingers in and out as he returned to sucking her clit, curling them against her g spot as he listened to her moans and cries, the strong suction throwing her over the edge.

He didn't stop as more of her juices coated his chin and fingers, leaking down and soaking the sheets beneath her. He licked up as much of her essence as possible as she eventually came down from her high. Once he was finished, Bruce rose back up on his hands, capturing Y/n's lips with his, letting her taste her own juices on his tongue.

She moaned into his mouth, chasing after him when he inevitably pulled away from her. He shoved his pants down the rest of the way, kicking them across the room, before hovering over Y/n once again, pinning her wrists above her head as he lined his cock up with her hole.

"You want it, baby? You want me to fuck you?" Y/n pulled her lip between her teeth, her eyes magnetized to the space between the two of them. She nodded, whining when Bruce thrusted his cock against her, rather than inside her, selfishly using her slick mound to get himself off. "Look at me," Bruce gave her no time to comply, grabbing her face again as he forced her to keep her eyes on him, his cockhead catching on her clit as he thrust his hips.

"I need a yes or a no, pretty." "Yes!" Y/n's teeth released her lower lip, as she shouted, her skin swollen from the biting and kissing. "Yes, sir! Please, I want it! I want you to fuck me!"

Bruce lined himself back up with her pussy, smirking at her desperate tone as he prepared to penetrate her. "S'all you had to say, baby . . ." Without further warning he thrust his cock inside of her, stilling when he felt her tight walls begin resisting him. He threw his head back, a guttural groan escaping him as he entered his wife's tight walls.

"Shit, baby," He groaned, panting above his wife's body. He grabbed her wrists again, holding them above her head as he slowly began fucking deeper, her hole accepting him little by little, stilling again once he was fully inside her.

"Bruce . . ." Y/n whined, wiggling her hips. "Please, sir, want you to move." Bruce shallowly pumped his hips, his cock brushing against her puckered cervix. He looked down at her face, holding back a laugh when she wriggled and squirmed in his hold. "Sir, please!" She sobbed.

"All right, all right. No more teasing. You remember the word?" Y/n nodded, though, she quickly corrected herself. "Yes, sir, I remember." Bruce leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to her sweaty hearline. "There's my good little slut. M' gonna move now, okay?" He stroked one of her wrists with his thumb. "O-okay," Y/n warbled out, her head rolling forward at the feeling of being stuffed with Bruce's cock.

Bruce pulled his hips away, till only his tip remained inside, before slamming his hips forwards, stealing Y/n's breath from her lungs. His hips pounded hers, the sound of their love a beautiful cacophony that overwhelmed both of their senses. "How's that, baby? That feel good?" Y'n didn't respond, her eyes rolled back into her head at the feeling of Bruce's bruising thrusts.

He decided to be nice, continuing his firm movements, encouraged by the little gasps and moans that subconsciously escaped his wife. He made no effort to hold back his own noises, grunting and groaning as he pushed Y/n's knees to her chest, hitting deeper than what would be thought possible.

Bruce held her legs down with one hand, resting some of his weight on her as he continued to fuck her deeply, gripping the headboard again to give himself more leverage. Y/n pressed her hands to his chest, her fingernails digging into his skin. She needed something to keep her tethered to the world as he fucked her. She sobbed whenever he hit a certain spot, and Bruce made sure to brush against it with every thrust.

"That's it, baby! Take it just like that!" He grunted, his strokes firm, yet perfectly angled to hit her sweet spot. He groaned, his hand on the headboard shooting down to rub Y/n's clit again. He felt his own orgasm creeping ever closer as she squeezed his length. "Gonna cum on my cock, huh? Gonna cum on this fucking cock?"

At this point he was talking more to himself, as Y/n was very clearly not entirely all there, drool dripping down the side of her gaping mouth, and her eyes rolled all the way back into her skull. "You're such a perfect little slut for me. Oh, take it, baby."

The wooden headboard slammed against the wall at the force of his thrusts, and if he was less consumed with his wife's tight, wet flesh, he'd be more thankful that he'd had all of the rooms in the manor soundproofed. Nevertheless, he groaned, his blood running hot as he felt Y/n dig her nails into his skin, deep enough to leave angry, red crescents.

"That's it, that's it, that's it," He chanted, his fingers slicked with Y/n's juices as he circled her clit. "That's it, baby, cum on my cock!" Y/n sobbed, juices gushing around Bruce's cock as her walls gripped him, almost refusing to let him pull out, not that he wanted to. Part of this gift was going to be the feeling of his wife's warm pussy as he came inside her.

He wasn't too far behind her, the muscles in his thighs and calves tightening as he fucked Y/n's cervix, his cock twitching inside her as hot, white cum gushed out around his shaft. He slowly fucked Y/n, his thrusts becoming shallow as he cahased his high. He let her legs drop, massaging them as the blood slowly started to return.

Once he caught his breath, he pulled the bow tying her wrists together, raising his hand to her cheek, stroking it with his thumb as he once again rested his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for a moment. "How . . ." he cleared his throat, his voice slightly hoarse.

"How do you feel? Are you hurt anywhere?" He slid his fingers into Y/n's hair, gently massaging her scalp as he spoke. In turn, she ran her hands across his chest and shoulders, massaging his traps. "No," Y/n shook her head. "I feel good. How about you, how do you feel?" Bruce dropped his head to rest in the crook between her neck and shoulder, kissing her sensitive skin.

"Mm," He ran his hand over her side, inhaling her natural scent. "Good." Y/n smiled, wrapping her arms around Bruce's shoulders and pulling him down, encouraging him to relax and drop his weight. He did just that, though, he still held himself up with his elbows, careful not to crush his wife.

He dug one arm under her, scooping her up and rolling over to his side, so she was laid across his chest. She giggled, resting her head against her husband's strong body. "Did you enjoy your gift?" She looked up at him with warm eyes and a tired smile.

"I did," Bruce smiled down at her, his expression mirroring hers. "Did you?" She leaned up, pressing a sweet, short kiss to his lips. "I loved it." She whispered, her throat a bit sore. Nothing some tea with honey and lemon couldn't fix in the morning. "Wanna take a bath?" Bruce asked, stroking Y/n's bare shoulder as she sleepily drew circles on his chest. "In a minute."

Bruce nodded, exhaustion overtaking his massive frame. He played with his wife's hair as she drifted into slumber on his chest. He basked in the glow of their love, a warm, sappy feeling swirling around inside him and squeezing his heart. He would wake her later, letting her sleep peacefully, for now.

#bizbat #batman #bruce wayne #batman smut #batman fluff #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne fluff #dc #batfam #bruce wayne x wife!reader #how the grinch stole christmas #dc smut #smut

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samwinchesterswifu · 3 months

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Linger (Sam Winchester x Reader) Angst

Season 4 x Episode 21 - When The Levee Breaks

Song Inspo: "Linger" by The Cranberries

Warnings: Sam being an asshole & Demon blood drinkin

MINORS DNI

A/N: this one is shit but i had to get something out there. *italics are flashbacks

Word Count: 1360

Summary: Locking Sammy up in the panic room was something she didnt want to do, but she needed to protect the boy she loved, even if he seemingly didnt love her.

“What do you mean Sammy has demon blood in him?” She seethes towards Dean as she tries to understand the conversation unfolding in hushed tones.

“Look, that’s all I know from what Dad told me. I couldn’t keep this a secret anymore.” Dean states, hand in his hair in frustration.

“And you decided to me? Of all people?” She asks bewildered.

“Yes, because we both know that you’re his only hope.” Dean sighs.

“Your brother doesn’t love me, he’s made that very clear.” She scoffs.

“He does, he does deep down and he’s terrified.” Dean grunted. She shakes her head at his comment.

“Okay, so what do we need to do?” She asks.

The memory played loudly in her head as she sits on the stairwell of Bobby’s basement. Sam had gotten to far with the demon blood consumption and she was forced to lock him in the panic room to help him detox. But her heart ached at the wretched sounds of his screams. Tears softly fell upon her cheeks as she cried listening to his pain. She was so in love with this man, this boy that had no idea what he was getting himself into. But she was so angry with him choosing a demon over her.

Trying to juggle her keys, phone, and drink in hand, she managed to successfully unlock the motel door of the room they were sharing. Only to look up and to see Sam feeding on Ruby. Dropping her drink catches Sam’s attention, making him jerk away and poof, Ruby was gone. She couldn’t have believed what she had witnessed. It was like some sick sex act the two had engaged in with their clothes on.

“Y/N, I can-uh I can explain,” Sam says rising to his feet. Wiping away the red off his lips.

Without saying a word to him, she pushes past him and grabs her duffle. Preparing to leave him, and Dean for good. Too fed up with the situation. But as she turns to leave, Sam catches her arm in a tight grip.

“You can’t,” Sam whispers through choked tears.

“Not you too.” Sam had let a few tears stain his cheeks. Making her own throat become rock solid at the sight of the boy she loved crying.

“Then it has to stop Sammy,” she whispers to him. Barely meeting his eyes.

“You know I can’t,” he responds.

“I can’t keep doing this Sammy, play this mind games of yours. You’ve known that I love you yet you play me like a damn dog,” she replies. Her own tears brimming at all the turmoil she’s experienced.

Sammy sighs, dropping his head low.

“I know,” he whispers. His voice seemingly sounding broken.

“But you know that I’ve stayed away to protect you, that’s all I’m doing Y/N. I cant let you get consumed with me.” Sam’s voice was stern but warm.

“I would rather be consumed by you, or with you, then be away from you,” she responded, grabbing his chin to have him look towards her. Caressing his cheek, and whipping away the tears.

Sammy’s screams pull her out of her thoughts. Grabbing on to her left flannel pocket, squeezing. God, it truly hurt her heart to hear him.

“Y/N?” Sam calls out to her.

“Y/N!” Sam yells again. Pounding on the door of the panic room.

As she rose to try to comfort him somehow, the door to upstairs opens with Dean standing at the top of the stairs. Sam calls out to her again, and Dean shakes his head. Offering his hand to her.

“Dean, I-I can’t,” she says through choked tears.

“You need a break, Bobby has a bed made for you, please, I got this for a while.” Dean replies still holding out his hand.

She sighs, and begins to make her way upstairs, grabbing onto Dean’s hand as he helps her up. Bobby instructs her way to go, that it was safe. Nodding, she makes her way upstairs to take a short nap. That’s all she told herself, a short nap.

Closing her eyes, she opens them again.

Only to find herself sitting on a park bench. A head of her, was a younger version of herself. She remembered this day. She had snuck away from her father to meet Sam. She must’ve been 15 here. She watches herself closely. Smiling at the necklace her younger self was toying with. It was a simple single pearl necklace that Sam had managed to get to her.

But there was a sudden gust of wind, making her jump she realized that Castiel was next to her now.

“Really Cas?” She asked. This was a habit of the angel to check up on her sometimes when dreaming.

“I just wanted to see if you were alright.” Cas stated bluntly.

“Where are we?” He asks, looking around and then his eyes settling on her younger self siting on the play set steps.

“Shh, just watch.” She replies. Castiel nods in agreement.

“Hi angel,” Sam’s voice comes from behind her younger self, making her jump from her seat.

Turning around, she notices Sam holding a few picked road-side flowers in a make shift bouquet.

“Oh Sammy, they’re beautiful,” she gushes, grabbing them and giving them a sniff.

Sam sheepishly smiles at her, digging his hands deep in his pocket.

“I didn’t know Sam was like this.” Castiel states. Looking at her curiously. She sighs.

“He wasn’t always,” she replies. A twinkle of fondness rested on her voice.

The two of them watched as the younger Sam and her return to steps of the play set. The two younger versions chatting and getting caught up on their lives. At some point, Sam had made a bold move, and captured her hand in his, making younger her blush deeply.

She goes to turn to say something to Cas, only to see that he had left her dream without realizing. Shrugging her shoulders, she turns to see younger Sam in front of her.

“Y/N!” He screams.

Suddenly she sits up in the bed she was sleeping in. Movement down stairs makes her suspicious, prompting her to grab her gun from the bed side table, and she makes her way down. She hears commotion outside and opens the door to see Sammy had escaped and Bobby laying unconscious. Sammy holding on to the barrel of a shot gun that presumably Bobby had held.

“Sammy, come on, we just need to get you downstairs,” she tells him, gun still drawn.

“Are you kidding?” He scoffs, eyes wild and stricken.

“Sammy, please. I don’t want to hurt you,” she responds hoarsely. Tears threating to escape again.

A sickening laugh leaves Sam’s lips. The sound causing a rift in her stomach that made her feel like she was going to be sick.

“You’re not gunna hurt me?” Sam walks up to her.

Hesitantly, she closes her eyes and shoots towards his direction. Sam’s laugh echoes through the salvage yard as he grabs on to her gun. She begins to wrestle with him for control before the gun awkwardly slips from her grasp. Sam points the gun at her. Making her swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

“Do it.” She states harshly.

Sam cocks his head in confusion.

“You’d be totally fine with me doing this right now? Killing you?” He asks, and she nods in response.

“If you let me go, I will hunt you down Samuel.” She states harshly while starring into his eyes.

“Fine, come find me then.” Sam replies. Before she could respond, Sam’s fist comes flying towards her. Closing her eyes, she loses consciousness on impact.

The sound of a rusted car engine sputtering to life jolts her awake. Realizing she was on the graveled ground outside, she begins to push herself up. Just as a car comes flying by her. Confused, she looks to see Sam in the driver’s seat as he turns out of the drive way and booking it down the road. Gritting her teeth, she hobbles her way towards Bobby, hoping that the old man was still alive.

#sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader angst #sam winchester x reader fan fiction #sam winchester season 4

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mondaymelon · 11 months

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— 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 ♡

໒꒱ || :feat~ albedo, kaeya, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, alhaitham, kaveh, wriothesley, neuvillette x gn!reader:

໒꒱ || notes: a new nation joins the mix !! please help there are too many what do i do when natlan appears?! ITS OKAY RAAAAH FLUFF FLUFF RAAHHH FLUFF CHILDE COMMITS MANSLAUGHTER AGAINST A FUCKING PUMPKIN RAHHHH @anonbinaryweirdo CHILDE IS BEING A SILLY ALL FOR YOU MWAH HApPY OLI DAY!!

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @solxima, @poweredbyghostadventures, @haliyamori

⤷ the seasons are changing, so let’s have some fun, shall we? ♡

"Klee, don't run so fast..."

ALBEDO sighed, yet his mouth curved upwards into a faint smile, one that could almost be mistaken as a laugh. Maybe it was. “Klee, if you’re going to run off like that, the Acting Grandmaster will certainly throw a fit about it.” There was little hope in soft threats against the child, but he had succeeded in capturing her attention, and she whipped around to look at the two of you, her bright beam dimming to a small pout.

“But Jean isn’t here! That means I can boom everything and she won’t put me in solitary confinement, right?” She gazed up fiercely at the two of you, her bold ruby eyes sparkling with daring excitement. The three of you had decided to take a little excursion to a nearby pumpkin farm at Jean’s insistence, saying that you especially had been overworking yourself with the new influx of tasks to do and that now they had stabilized, she could manage them for a day or two. She had been a little suspicious about it though, beaming the entire time and occasionally laughing at moments that weren’t remotely amusing. Her distracted gaze also kept glancing at Lisa, who had been shelving books with a devious smile. Just what is up with those two? You blamed it on the lack of sleep.

“Although…” she tilted her head, looking very thoughtful for a brief moment. “I’ll let you decide!” She ran over to you, clinging to your clothes with sparkling eyes. “What do you want to do? Just today, Spark Knight Klee will let you lead the adventure, ‘kay?” She was bouncing on her feet now, her expectant gaze a little too earnest.

“Klee, let’s be respectful…”

“Eh?? But… I want to be nice to your sweetheart!!” Klee pouted, cheeks flushed.

“S-Sweetheart…” Your mouth dropped open as the tiny girl let out a little ‘ah!’

“Oh no, I forgot I wasn’t supposed to tell you that! Shoot, Kaeya is going to be sooo mad!! Shhh, you didn’t hear anything, okay?? He definitely didn’t tell me that Albedo liked liked you, so please don’t snitch!” Klee held her hands over her mouth, looking rather apologetic as her round eyes threatened to burst into tears. Albedo sounded like he was choking.

“K-Klee, why don’t you go over and look at the pumpkins for a while? I’ll let you take home the biggest one you can find…” Albedo was clearly startled, his smooth speech interrupted with a stutter. As the girl eagerly dashed away towards the fields, he let out a long sigh. “I’m very sorry about that, it seems the Cavalry Captain has been saying some strange things to my little sister.”

You shook your head with a smile. “No, don’t be. It’ll be funny later on as we look back on it, although…” Your voice trailed off as what Klee had said flashed through your mind. In a voice barely above a whisper, you glanced up at him, “Is it true? Do you… feel that way for me?”

His breath caught in his throat, and he did not speak until three beats later. “I didn’t want you to find out this way, but now that it’s come to this…” He cleared his throat, returning his averted gaze to stare at you, his brilliant teal eyes meeting yours. Every movement of his lips entranced you, and you could feel the way your cheeks grew warm as his words slowly sunk in.

And it was true, he meant it. His body was living, breathing proof, even if his life wasn’t meant to exist in the first place. That was okay. He was okay with it all. If he could have you, then the origin of his life didn’t matter. At the very least, his existence could be filled with your warmth.

“I wish to be your partner.” ♡

“Hm, this should be fun~”

KAEYA appeared amused as he hummed with delight. The reason? Something a wine-lover like him was sure to enjoy - a winery tour, not Diluc’s, to ensure the maximum happiness of both brothers. The wind lightly breezed by, rustling the warm colored leaves that resemble tongues of fire. All around you, people trailed after the tour in front of the group, aimlessly chattering amongst themselves or dutifully nodding to whatever information the guide was saying at the moment. Did it really matter? In all honesty, you knew that Kaeya had come for the sole purpose of wine, and now that the two of you were here, nothing else really mattered. He glanced at you with a beam. “C’mon, what’s with the grouchy face? Don’t you think this will be fun?” Without much of a warning at all, he grabbed at your face, pinching and stretching your cheeks while he quietly laughed to himself.

“Hey, shtop-” You manage to wrench out of his grasp, rubbing your aching cheeks with a pointed glare directed towards the male. “You know I’m not a good drinker. I’ll pass out and then you’ll have to go through the trouble of carrying me all the way back…”

Kaeya blinks, then laughs. “Hey, it's only a winery tour, who said anything about actually drinking the wine?” He chuckles into his fist, tilting his head with a swift motion. “Although, I suppose it can’t really be helped…”

“Exactly. So if you see me drinking a little too much, you better tell me, alright?” You stared him down in the eye, a failed attempt at looking the slightest bit intimidating. “I don’t want to be all intoxicated and babbling all my secrets out for the world to hear. That’d be utterly mortifying.” Just the thought of you made a shiver course through your body, a detail Kaeya’s diligent gaze didn’t miss.

He let out a cheeky laugh. “Ah, I don’t know, wouldn’t that be funny to look back on later?” The two of you were walking side-by-side on the stone-pebbled path, and he skillfully swept your hand into his, fingers intertwined in a motion so fluid it almost felt like the two of you had done this in your past lives as well. “You know, you’re really cute when you’re drunk.”

Your mouth falls slightly ajar at his bold words, whipping your head to the people around you just in case they heard. They didn’t, and continued blabbering about the most useless things in the world - the ripeness of apples, the types of long grass that was near the fields, all that significant information that one typically could do without. “Kaeya!” Your voice is panicked as you whisper shout at him, eyes wide. You know your face is red, you can feel it, and it’s something that’s too easy to spot with an eye as trained as his. “Don’t say that kind of stuff in public! Besides, it’s not even true!”

Kaeya pouted like a little child, fake crocodile tears threatening to spill from his eyes despite his voice giving away his clear amusement. “Awww, but love, why not? Is it such a crime for me to profess my love to you in the great outdoors?”

“Ugh…” You sighed, turning away in an attempt to hide your flushed cheeks. “Kaeya, you know what you-”

Too late. He had grabbed onto your chin with a grin, carefully examining just how red he was able to make you.

“Haha, you don’t even have to drink wine, love. Your face is already red enough just from my presence!” ♡

“Be careful. It’s hot.”

ZHONGLI passes the cup to you with a soft smile on his lips, one that makes his amber eyes glow with warmth. “If I had known you liked tea, I would’ve brewed you some more often.” He holds his own teacup with a gloved hand, seeming indifferent to the heat he had just warned you about. “It’s a fine day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” You took a sip of tea, reveling in its rich flavors that danced across your tongue. “A hot drink like this is a good way to spend it.” Zhongli’s smile was one of fondness as he nodded to your words. “On days like these, you can find solace in a book by the windowsill and a drink in your hand… Although I’d like to learn more about you. How do you like to spend your time?” You glanced up from the fluid in the cup and locked eyes with his gilded ones instead.

“Are you curious?” You answered with a nod, and the male let out a low chuckle. “Honestly, while I’m knowledgeable in a few areas, how to pass time isn’t exactly one of them. If you asked me about Liyue’s traditions and legends, however…” He paused as he swirled the cup’s contents. “I could likely go for weeks on end.”

That was the kind of man he was. Stoic, yet warm-hearted, and with a surprisingly in-depth view on Liyue’s history and culture. Where he learned all of this, you had yet to figure out, but his presence in and of itself was something soothing you couldn’t quite describe. At times, you feared his tranquil way of speaking had been inflicted upon you, but that wasn’t a bad thing in the slightest. The way he spoke was like verses in a poem, well thought out, wise, experienced, and with gliding tones like the reddening leaves on the wind. The way he was able to move even the most cynical crowds with the sway and caring truth in his words was but one of the things you admired about the man. Someone like Zhongli must've been a person who had received the favor of Morax, considering how well-versed he was. It wouldn’t be a shock if it were true.

You smiled, propping up your chin on your elbow. “Then, amuse me.”

He shook his head gently, almost in a reprimanding manner. “I’d rather see you to your residency before the sky turns dark. It’d be a shame if I were to take up all hours of your day.”

The words flew from your mouth before you even had the chance to consider them. “Who said I wouldn’t want that?” With a panicked gaze, you watched as Zhongli’s expression shifted into a startled one. For once, the stone-firm man seemed to have been given the slightest of shoves.

It was a moment before he responded. “Saying such things…”

“They are the truth.”

“...Very well, then shall I tell you a story?” Now, his eyes glittered with a distant, deep sadness that had appeared in the short instant of silence. You nodded your head, and he continued onwards, his words forming one great melody, one intertwined with a knowledge that transcended the earth yet persisted with a harmony of tightly knit feelings that you could never begin to unravel. “One about the god of contracts, and the god of dust, a very, very long time ago. Did you know how far Morax’s love went for the goddess? He held her with much reverence in his heart, yet one day, she flowed through his fingers like the dust she was. He was never able to tell her the truth that lay in his heart, and fell into a deep sorrow.”

He fell silent, and you cocked your head. “Then… Then what happened?”

Zhongli’s somber face brightened as he smiled at you, his shining umber gaze one that held something clearly important. “That…”

“His heart has healed, with the help of someone dear.” ♡

"Against a pumpkin? Hah, that'll be an easy duel!"

CHILDE’s arms are raised, hefting up a… weedwhacker? How’d he get his hands on that?? From what you heard, it was a newly designed kind of weapon, though for some reason used to cut grass, of all things, that had been recently shipped from Fontaine to various influential people around the globe for its first use. Apparently, Childe qualified as one of those people. That, or he had just beaten up someone who had, then plucked it from his grasp. Either way, it was certainly not a welcome sight. You just barely managed to wrench it out of his hands, though with grudging certainty you can tell that it’s only possible with him going easy on you. He laughed again, his shoulders raised in triumph. “C’mon, just let me at him!”

“‘He’ is a pumpkin, Childe. You are challenging an inanimate fruit to a duel.” You deadpanned at the sight, making sure to place the weapon far, far away from his reach. “We came here with a job to do, let’s not forget that. These are going to be important Halloween decorations around the harbor and Jade Chamber, remember? Lady Ningguang commissioned us… or rather, me, herself, and I’m not about to present her with a gouged out collection of gutted and ravaged pumpkins.”

The male pouted, visibly upset. “But. It was looking at me strangely! That thing clearly is itching for a fight, and all I’m doing is giving it one it deserves!”

Yet another cause for a long sigh. You could feel your willpower slip away with your exhale. “Childe, it’s not looking at you. Those were the guidelines I drew with ink. Please, for once, cooperate with me.”

He pauses, then his eyes twinkle, and you know with reluctant confidence that he’s thought up something stupid. Surprise, surprise! You receive your big, fat, green checkmark as soon as he opens his mouth to speak, his lips raised in a mischievous smile. “Only if you give me a kiss~”

It was better to agree now, then change the promise afterwards. You nodded exasperatedly, “Alright, alright, now let’s-”

“Ah ah ah!” Childe tutted, raising his fingers to your lips to shush you. “Sorry, but I only receive upfront payment~!”

You resisted the urge to slap him in his painfully handsome face. His features were so perfect it hurt, with his deep ocean eyes and freckles dotting his skin like stars in the night sky. “Come here.” Instantly, he perks up, and you can just imagine him with dog ears and a wagging tail, a sight that almost makes you like him. “Mmmmwah.” You plant a kiss directly on his cheek, only leaving your lips on his skin for a brief moment before pulling away, trying to hide the growing red on your face. “There.”

“Wh- Ah, no fair, you can’t do it on the cheek!” Once Childe snaps out of his initial ecstasy, there of course comes the complaints. “Do it again, do it again!”

“You never specified where. Now get to carving.” It’s hard not to laugh when you see the growing, childish frown that crosses his expression.

“C’mon, kiss me just one more time?” ♡

“Are you enjoying the view?”

AYATO’s eyes twinkle with amusement, his light hair swaying gently in the cooling breeze. The wind had grown chillier in the weeks prior, but you had luckily dressed enough for the occasion, and the warmth of his and yours intertwined fingers was far enough sufficient to dispel any chills far, far away.

“Mhm. It’s beautiful.” You weren’t lying, the courtyard garden the male had invited you to view was certainly a marvel to behold, the warmly tinted leaves dangling like fiery ornaments from the great wooden branches, yet at the moment your eyes could only linger on the light smile that graced the man’s lips. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards, a soft expression that made the colors around you seem all the more vivid. His lashes fluttered close, then blinked back open, his seas of violet underneath a breathtaking wonder more than anything else in this world. And the beauty mark the archons themselves had painted with such delicacy, just beside his eye.

Simply put, Ayato was a man of majesty.

Your man of majesty.

It still astonished you how someone like him had chosen you, out of all people. The way your heart beat faster and words grew hastier when he was near was something you found impossible to deny.

“You say that, but continue gazing at me all the while.” He lets out a low chuckle, speaking nonchalantly. “There’s no need to needlessly flatter me like those Inazuman officials, who are always ever so desperate to gain my attention.”

“Ayato, that’s not my intention!” You pout in protest, jokingly offended that he had dared compare you to such foolishness. “Besides, it’s in no way ‘needless’! Your beauty must certainly be admired, or it’d be a waste of that pretty face of yours!”

His eyes widen a fraction as he stares at you with a slightly dumbstruck expression, that is, until he breaks into an uncharacteristically loud bout of laughter, one gloved hand over his mouth failing to mask his beam behind it.

“Ah-Ahahaha!” Ayato smiles into his fist, grinning to himself. This was what he loved about you, apart from everything. Your laugh, your smile, the abrupt way that broke apart from his somber lifestyle, all of it. “Beloved, sometimes I wonder how you’re able to come up with such things.”

“Why are you laughing? What I said was true.”

“Just like that, right there.” His smile only widens as his eyes twinkle at the sight of you.

“You're not finding this funny, are you??” You squint up at him accusingly, frowning. Ayato locks his gaze with yours, his lilac eyes against yours a captivating sensation.

“Funny? No, I could never. Beloved, you’re the most endearing of them all.” ♡

“Now mix it together…mhm, just like that.”

THOMA has a firm grip on your wrist, aiding your motions as you gently stir the fluffy batter. He’s standing behind you, his taller stature the slightest intimidating - that is, if you didn’t know Thoma at all. He’s one of the sweetest people you’ve met, especially in an originally hostile Inazuman environment. His spring green eyes sparkle as he releases his fingers, slowly taking the bowl from your grip. “Okay, I think it’s ready now!” He’s excited, and you can tell by the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Let me just adjust the fire, put it in, and then we can wait until it’s over. It should only take 10 minutes or so with this fancy new furnace Master Ayato installed the other day…”

He rambled onwards, skillfully multitasking spreading the batter on the pan, adding more fodder to the fire, and checking its temperature, all while still talking. Another fact about Thoma - he had much to say about people he admired. Although it was rather awkward to admit, it seemed that you were one of those, as Ayaka told you with a sheepish smile on her face how Thoma had chattered all about you while briefly cleaning her room. Well, not awkward, per se. It was a feeling that was hard to put a label on, just one that made you feel warm inside. Oh… was it because of his pyro vision? Perhaps that was why your face felt so hot at the moment, listening to him talk in his smooth voice and seeing the genuine interest in his gaze. “You’re pretty.” It hasn’t even struck you that you’ve said those words out loud until you realize that he’s stopped talking, and is now staring at you instead with round eyes and a mouth slightly ajar… that, and the growing red on his cheeks.

“I-I…?” Thoma can’t even speak with how hard he’s stammering, like something out of a cartoon, and his face is completely flushed, to the point where you think he might be feverish instead of embarrassed. “Wh-Why are you saying things like that, all of a sudden…” He coughed into his fist stiffly, readjusting his posture and taking his oven gloves off. “Besides, between the two of us, no, out of all of Teyvat, you’re the prettiest.”

Maybe he hasn’t realized that he’s said those words out loud either, because his gaze is casted to the floor that’s going to burn from how hard he’s staring at it.

“You heard me, right?” Oh, it seems you were incorrect, he had meant for you to hear it. Is that why your heart was beating so fast?

“You’re the prettiest one.” ♡

"You didn’t have to come.”

ALHAITHAM’s sharp gaze is locked onto you as he gently holds his hands in yours - per your request. His skin is cool to the touch, just like the chilling air that’s causing his hair to ruffle. “I’m here on official business, so I’ll be here awhile. Are you certain you don’t want to head back home?”

“And listen to a sleepless Kaveh rant about building structures for the next four hours?” You scoffed playfully, leaning into his frame with a smile. “No thanks. Spending that time with you is absolutely the better option of the two.”

Al Haitham’s brows furrowed the slightest bit, and he turned his head away with a brief exhale. “If that’s what you want.” He’s acting with a mask of indifference, but you know him well, well enough to discern that he’s not being truthful to himself. There’s the slightest lean in his posture, how his eyes are just a little softer, and how his voice isn’t as stony as it should be - telltale signs that he was hoping for your presence in his long work shift. Whilst the blonde architect you knew complained day and night about the two of you’s shared roommate, he wasn’t unbearable at all… although, perhaps it was unfair to compare the two. After all… you thought with a faint smile. We’re lovers.

The ashen-haired male turned to you upon seeing the change in your expression. “Is something amusing?”

“Nothing, Haitham,” you replied, beaming innocently. “You’re just very handsome, is all.” The Haitham you knew was right here, at this moment. The way his eyes widened a fraction and the way his lips twitched, the way his cheeks remained pale but you knew his ears were painted rose under his headphones. It was a person the people around him who only yearned for his attention and status could never dream of seeing. A Haitham that was for you only.

“...What has you saying those kinds of things? I’ve already told you not to mess around, and here we are.” Al Haitham sarcastically sighs, and you know its a fake. The negligible hesitance in his usually quick-witted response has his words trailing a half-second behind, a detrimental mistake enough to determine his flusteredness. Reading Al Haitham is like a game, where the answer key is provided to onl you.

“You looked like you wanted to hear it.” You smile sheepishly, clinging tighter onto his sleeve. He’s not radiating warmth by any means, but the faint heat that rises from his body is satisfactory enough for you to feel warm.

“Hopeless.” He says, yet doesn’t move to pry you off his arm. “Utterly hopeless.”

In his gaze is a hidden secret that his mouth wouldn't dare speak.

He was the hopeless one. The fool hopelessly in love with you. ♡

"Don't be scared, I'm right next to you!!"

KAVEH certainly looked the part of a fearless boyfriend, with the way he’s clinging to your body and shaking like a leaf. It’s no secret that he’s utterly terrified, but you’ll let him live his fantasy that he’s fooling you, at the very least. The flickering bravery in his eyes had long disappeared the moment you stepped foot into the haunted castle, a surprising suggestion coming from his roommate Al Haitham, of all people. You had heard the rumors, and heard more than a couple mouthfuls of curses directed towards him on nights where Kaveh stumbled into your place, completely wasted and reeking of booze. It was only now, with begrudging admittance, that you could confirm their truth. To tell the architect of this “romantic” and “couple-bonding” journey through a new Sumerian attraction was all it took for Kaveh to completely jump on the idea. “H-Hey, stop walking so fast, I can’t keep up…!” The blonde looked quite pitiful, holding onto your shirt with tears pooling at his eyes as he struggled to keep up with your average-paced speed. “H-Haha, you must be terrified, to be running like this…!” His awkward laugh was quickly strangled into a high-pitched screech as a person dressed in ghosty blues and greens dropped down from the ceiling and dangled there ominously with a cackle.

Moments like these made you question how you had even become acquainted with him in the first place.

“C-C’mon, let’s run, I-I’ll protect you!!” Despite his outward appearance being disheveled as could be, with his usual properly groomed hair strewn and sticking up all over the place and his sleeves bunching up near his elbows, he managed to wrestle his way behind you while sprinting away, so at the bare minimum, if they caught you, he would be the one to fall to their claws first.

Ah, perhaps this was why. The ever steadfast desire of his to make sure you, at least, were safe. That astounding selflessness that remained apparent even through the tears that clouded his wavering gaze. You resisted the urge to laugh as your dash slowed to a brisk pace, and instead pressed against Kaveh’s side with a smile.

“H-huh?” His voice was airy, out of breath, startled. Kaveh glanced at you, crimson eyes round and expectant. “What’s wrong…?”

“I’m scared.” Lying through your teeth was guilt-inducing, but the brightening beam on Kaveh’s newfound flushed expression just about swept it all away. “Let me hold you like this, o-okay?” You even added a stutter for an extra effect, which just about drove the arrow through his poor heart. Where was your oscar? You held onto his hand fearfully, staring up at him.

Kaveh, all of a sudden, seemed to have been invigorated like someone had pumped adrenaline directly into his system, that is, an energy called “l-o-v-e!” “A-Ahem! If-If that’s the case, very well! Stay behind me, and I’ll protect you! Ahahaha! No demons would dare even set foot near my… elemental powers!”

“Oh, thank you Kaveh…” If he noticed the evident sarcasm in your voice, he pretended not to, and there wasn’t a single change in his dumbstruck expression.

“No need to thank me! If I were unable to shield you, what use of a lover would I be?” ♡

"Look what I got...! It's for you."

WRIOTHESLEY’s eyes sparkled as he presented a glossy red apple for your viewing, its smooth, unblemished exterior being handled with the most delicate touches in direct contrast to the silver studded gloves he usually wore. “Here, c’mon, try a- Ahem.” He cleared his throat, carefully straightening his posture. “Please take it.”

It always amazed you how his dignity still tried to uphold somewhat of a “professional” view on this entire situation. Puzzling, indeed. Perhaps he was just paranoid that he’d be seen so giddy like this and be absolutely clowned on once word got around and he went back to work at the Fortress of Meropide. The prisoners must be harsh to control on a daily basis, considering how on more than a couple separate occasions the man would come home with cuts and bleeding knuckles, to which you’d scold him (gently) for a good half hour while bandaging them up. His personality shifts were nothing but unusual.

“If you insist? Thank you.” You took the apples from his hand, fingers brushing. It was a light contact, yet Wriothesley flinched all the same, able to contain the red on his cheeks but not the dusting of it on the tips of his ears. Lucky him, it was more or less covered by his white streaked hair anyways. He could only hope and pray that you didn’t catch the sight.

Spoiler alert: you did. His fingers were warm, despite him being a cryo user. Not unpleasantly warm, like a sweaty hand that makes you feel all gross inside, but a pleasant version of it, one that makes you want to pepper kisses all over his pretty face for just existing within your realm of life.

You had to hold back on indulging in those thoughts, however, as the currently posing as stoic Wriothesley was gazing into the distance with a dramatic expression. Ooh, should you compliment him? Perhaps he’d invent a new shade of red, then! It’d be a sight to see. As silly as the idea was, you didn’t exactly what to tease him right now, not when you could taste the crisp sweetness of the apple he had picked for you on your tongue.

A smile flitted across your face and he took notice of that, giving you a small smile of his own. “Is it good? Let me have a bite. Aahh~” He leaned forward, and opened his mouth, which slowly closed in the silence that ensued. It was hard not to laugh at how sheepish he looked, rubbing the back of his head with a silly grin that escaped his usual patrolling of expressions. Who would’ve thought that a man who worked at a prison day in and day out would be so into… cheesy things? No matter, it made your heart race all the same.

Wriothesley had expected the crunch of an apple, if he was lucky and you didn’t leave him hanging in your confusion. What he hadn’t expected was the sweet taste of your lips against his, your warmth blending with his own, your arms around his shoulders and his around your waist. It’s warm, hot. Yes, he felt like he was burning, from the inside out, from every touch of your fingers to every movement of your mouth. Sweet.

“So? How is it?” You pulled away, wiping your mouth with a cheeky smile that made him want to kiss you again.

So he did.

“Sweet. Impossibly sweet, yet nowhere near sweeter than you.” ♡

"Do you feel warmer if I hold you like this?"

NEUVILLETTE has found his arms wrapped around your smaller frame before he can even come to his senses. Yes, that’s right… the two of you had decided to go on a brief outing, with promises that you’d show him more of the outside world and that he’d, in turn, accompany you on this little adventure. Except… the two of you hadn’t accounted for the weather to be this chilly, and while there was no rain, as there was never when the two of you were together, the sun’s stale light wasn’t sufficient enough to warm your frozen body. You said you were fine and that the two of you should just stop by the next sightseeing point in the trip, but his gaze is certainly nothing to laugh at. In an instant, you’re in his arms, and he finds you in his. You’re shaking, quivering, and he’s fucking upset at himself that he didn’t do anything sooner.

“Y-Yes, it’s warm now… thank you.” Your shaking has evidently subsided, and now you lean against his chest, rising and falling with every heave of his chest. With how close you are, body pressed together with his, can you hear his heartbeat? It’s loud in his own ears, and he’s paranoid you’ll hear it - the rise and fall of the water on the ocean shores, the choppy, erratic waves on a midnight black sea. He’s afraid you’ll hear his jumbled symphony and leave him before he can say what he wants to say to you the most.

Oh, but does he even mean it? He wished he could provide the question forever poisoning his thoughts with an answer, but no matter how much he inquires of his all-knowing archon, no matter how much he judges the cases of the land, no matter how much… he still can’t find a solution that will resolve his quaky heart. It’s a problem that lies in him, that’s something that’s at the very least certain. It cannot possibly be with you, you who is as bright as the sun and whose warmth is that of a clear summer day. A beautiful disposition that is unmatched with his gloomy one. Still, he’ll yearn for you until he makes sense of it. Neuvillette cannot bear himself not to try. He will make the scale just, so that the two of you may…

“Neuvi?” The call of your name for him snatches his wandering attention in an instant. He gazes down at your figure, wrapped into his coat tightly. “Are you okay? You’ve been looking distant for a while now.” The concern in your eyes lessens the concern in his heart, and he smiles softly at your words.

“Yes, I’m alright. If you want, should we stay like this the entire trip?”

“W-What?? No, I couldn’t possibly…!!”

Verdict complete. He’ll wait. Wait until the days pass and bring the months with it, he’ll watch the leaves sink to the ocean floor and he��ll wait for his heart to decide.

Oh, if only he could know the verdict of yours.

“If it’s for you, know that I’d be more than willing.” ♡

(a/n) this reached the fucking image limit and i had to get rid of the dividers. i am so upset

anyways gotta love how they're all so romantic and childe is just like: mmm... murder... pumpkin... mmm.. screw chiscara and zhongchi . childe x pumpkin ftw (this is a joke) eek wrio feels so ooc im goinng to sob

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rubycruzin4abruzin · 4 months

Text

I hate you, too

Summary: Ruby is your acting rival as well as your sworn enemy. When you’re cast in the same movie, you struggle with the fight choreography, an area which your co-star excels at. What will you do when you have no choice but to swallow your pride and ask her for extra help?

Pairing: ruby cruz x actress!reader

Contains: mature language, some adult humor, kissing, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, walked in on while changing, non-sexual knife play, clumsy!reader, publicity tweets, there was only One Trailer

Word Count: 6.6k (told you it’s a slow burn)

A/N: This is a Real Person Fiction, RPF Guidelines still stand. Morally, I refuse to write smut for Ruby Cruz. That being said, I miss writing smut!! Dying to write some Kit Tanthalos smut after this, if anyone has a request feel free to send it in. That being said, Ruby is always super fun to write for, and I hope y’all enjoy! :)

———

If you never saw Ruby Cruz again, it would be too soon.

You first encountered her shortly after moving to Los Angeles to pursue acting. During a meeting with your agent to discuss a contract, she entered unannounced, as if the office belonged to her.

“Hey Estelle, I’m here to pick up the ‘Mare of Easttown’ audition sides,” she stated, barely glancing in your direction.

Estelle handed her a stack of papers before introducing you. “This is Ruby Cruz, one of my regular clients. You two will likely be seeing a lot of each other.”

Ruby finally turned toward you, assessing you with her bright blue eyes that seemed to pierce through your soul. She gave you a curt smile, and offered her hand.

“Nice to meet you. Estelle’s the best; you’re gonna love her.”

You shook her hand as Estelle chuckled at the flattery, shaking her head and modestly dismissing it.

“Ruby has an audition next week for that ‘Mare of Easttown’ show… which reminds me! I think you could also be a good fit for that. We can discuss more later, but for now, let me at least get you the audition sides.”

Estelle began to gather nearby papers into a stack, stapling the corner before handing them to you. Excitement bubbled in your chest at the thought of acting in a show as notable as ‘Mare of Easttown.’

Ruby hummed, clucking her tongue as you flipped through the stack of papers. Glancing up at her from your seat, you could have sworn you saw her eyes squint, almost as if she now saw you as nothing more than competition.

“In that case, hope you break a leg.”

With a wave goodbye to Estelle, she left the office. You couldn’t place it at the time, but something about her tone felt… off.

The audition came and went, and it was just your luck that Ruby ended up landing the role. Of course, it became her breakout role, one that juiced up her resume and propelled her career.

Initially, it didn’t bother you that much; after all it was just one audition. However, given that you were both conventionally attractive actresses in the same age range, Estelle frequently recommended you for the same roles. You began to see her face at every single audition, and frankly, you were sick of it.

That’s not to say you lost every role to Ruby Cruz; sure she was your competition, but you both had your share of the limelight. She was Hazel Callahan in “Bottoms,” and you were Harper McCallington in “Out & Uncool.” While she was busy filming for “Willow” as Princess Kit Tanthalos, you starred as Empress Kian Thorne in a limited series entitled “Cottonwood.”

You were a tad jealous that Ruby landed a continuing series while yours was limited, so when you found out about “Willow” being abruptly canceled after one season, you couldn’t help but revel in the schadenfreude.

Despite your individual successes, you harbored a deep dislike for Ruby. Yes, she was pretty, with pale blue eyes and dark hair that offset her ivory skin, but watching her stride into every audition wearing that all-too-familiar smug smile only fueled your resentment and made your blood boil.

Several months after moving to LA, one particular audition day commenced with a morning from hell. You woke up groggy with your hair in a rats nest, and spent the majority of the morning battling with the bathroom mirror in an attempt to render yourself presentable. Once you could actually run a comb through it, a quick glance at a clock revealed you were running late. Hastily, you grabbed your resume, poured some of your roommates' leftover coffee into a travel mug, and dashed out the door in a race against time.

Curses flew out of your mouth while you sat in the infamous LA traffic, fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel while your eyes darted towards the clock.

Arriving at the audition site, you parked haphazardly and rushed to the entrance, coffee sloshing against your mug with every step. Pushing open the doors, you immediately caught sight of the very person you knew you would see but secretly wished you wouldn’t.

There was Ruby, sitting in the waiting room, too focused on studying her audition material to even notice you had walked in. She wore a white blouse with floral patterns, jeans, and white converse—an undoubtedly effortless outfit that looked so good on her, it genuinely annoyed you.

Shaking your head, you tried to push aside any thoughts of Ruby and focus on the audition. As you stepped towards the sign-in table, your notorious clumsiness struck as you mis-stepped and tripped over your own foot. Fortunately, you managed to catch yourself before face-planting, but you lost control of your mug, ending up spilling coffee all over your sworn enemy.

Ruby stood up in shock, the lukewarm liquid staining her white blouse and smudging the ink on her papers. She lifted her head, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell!” She exclaimed.

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in shock. “Shit, Ruby, I’m so…”

“You did that on purpose!”

The brewing apology halted at her accusation. Indignation swelled within you, and the urge to defend yourself took over.

“Excuse me? It was an accident! Jesus!”

“You don’t think I know you don’t like me?” She spat back. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?”

By now, everyone else in the waiting room was watching the two of you, while the stage manager at the sign-in table desperately tried to de-escalate the situation.

You felt your face flush at the unwanted attention as you attempted to lower your voice. “Ruby, I may not be your biggest fan, but I would never do something like that on purpose.”

“Oh please, I know your type. You would do anything to land a role, even if it’s underhanded!”

“For fucks sake, Ruby!” You rolled your eyes, exasperated at this conversation. “I land roles just fine on my own. Not everything is about you!”

“You’re seriously standing here telling me that ‘not everything is about me’ when you’re the one who ruined my blouse right before an audition?!”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

You and Ruby turned your heads toward the unidentified voice to see what appeared to be the director of the project standing in the doorway. He peered down at the two of you with an icy glare, while the stage manager stood next to him with her arms crossed.

A gulp involuntarily forced its way down your throat. You looked over at Ruby, who stood frozen with all the color seemingly drained from her face. Both of you waited with baited breath for the director's next move as his nostrils flared.

“Both of you. Out. Now.”

“There’s good news, and bad news.”

You and Ruby stared at Estelle from across her desk, shame and embarrassment radiating from the both of you. Last week's altercation at the audition made headlines on LA Twitter news, prompting her to call an emergency meeting to discuss next steps.

“You already know the bad news,” Estelle sighed. “Word got out about your little ‘stunt.’ As of right now, neither of you have great reputations in the Hollywood eye.”

Estelle turned to look directly at you, making you shrink in your seat. “Not many people want to work with an actor who would sabotage another actor’s audition to get a leg-up.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself but immediately closed it upon seeing the look on Estelle’s face. She looked away from you, focusing her attention on Ruby next.

“And no one wants to work with a hothead who causes scenes and goes on public cursing sprees.”

Ruby squirmed under Estelle’s scrutiny, looking down at her lap to avoid eye contact.

Estelle leaned back in her chair, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “Fortunately, there is some good news.”

Your ears perked up at this, curious as to what kind of good would come out of this kind of publicity. Glancing over at Ruby, you noticed she raised her gaze while still keeping her head lowered. Estelle continued.

“Another director caught wind of the situation and contacted me immediately. Apparently, he’s been toying with this idea for a movie about two rival mafia bosses who go undercover as high school cheerleaders. He is adamant that the two of you play the leading roles.”

Shock painted your features as you attempted to process what Estelle just told you. You looked over at Ruby, who seemed just as bewildered as you.

“So, this director wants to work with two people who can’t stand each other?” She inquired.

Estelle shrugged. “I’ve been told he’s very… method. Authenticity is everything to him, no matter what the consequences. Still, people say to trust his process because he’s extremely brilliant.”

She pulled out a couple business cards and handed them to the both of you, his name in thick black font jumping out from the white background.

Calvin Cunningham. Film Director.

Calvin Cunningham turned out to be quite the character.

He was brutally honest, always saying exactly what he thought of something. He engaged with the cast and crew as if they were his best friends, but if something wasn’t up to his standards, he never hesitated to voice his dissatisfaction.

His methods were eccentric and unusual, with an unwavering commitment to authenticity. They were unorthodox, but if they proved to be effective, he couldn’t care less about the cost.

On the first day of shooting, after being given your trailer assignment, you were about to go inside when you saw something that made you stop dead in your tracks. There, hanging on the back of the trailer door, was a big gold star with two names engraved into it.

Yours… and Ruby’s.

Outraged, you turned and marched towards Calvin, only to find him already in conversation with a head of loathsome brunette locks.

“This has to be some mistake,” cried Ruby. “I can’t share a trailer with her!”

“Ditto.” You piped up, moving to stand next to your rival.

Calvin shook his head. “No mistake. You guys can’t stand each other, and I want to maintain that energy throughout filming. I figured some forced proximity could help to fuel that fire.”

“Please, Calvin. I will literally share with anyone else,” you pleaded, words falling on deaf ears as Calvin simply turned and walked away from the two of you.

Ruby turned to glare at you with shrunken pupils, and you reciprocated with a side-eye right back. As you both began your way over to your shared trailer, you couldn’t help but acknowledge: this might be the first time you and Ruby actually agreed on something.

Filming was going well, all things considered. You and Ruby spent your days on set, hashing out all your hatred towards each other in front of the camera, and then pretty much ignored each other otherwise.

Changing could be slightly awkward, given the shared trailer, but you and Ruby had an unspoken agreement to keep to yourselves. Nevertheless, the trailer was a tight space, allowing you to see everything within your peripheral vision. Despite your disdain for Ruby, you couldn’t help but admire the delicate curve of her tapered waist and how it contrasted against her toned stomach. Even you could appreciate how her hair became disheveled every time she lifted a clothing item over her head, prompting her to shake it out until her short tresses tumbled over her shoulder.

You chalked it up to vanity, but sometimes you swore you caught her checking you out from the corner of her eye, too.

One day, while checking your schedule for the upcoming week, you noticed a choreography rehearsal planned for the big knife fight scene towards the end of the movie. Dread immediately consumed you, settling in your stomach like a boulder reaching the bottom of a hill.

It wasn’t because you were worried about getting into a knife fight with Ruby; you knew the weapons were harmless props and posed no threat to your safety. You dreaded any kind of choreography rehearsal, as you were notoriously an uncoordinated klutz. It was like you bore a curse of delayed reaction times and two left feet—a burden that weighed on your shoulders like an anchor.

On the day of the rehearsal, you walked into the stunt room to see Ruby already there, stretching in yoga pants and a crop top that hung just below her ribcage. Calvin stood in the corner conversing with the choreographer, Lucas: an effeminate man with a muscular build that offset his short stature.

Minutes after you started stretching, Lucas blew his whistle, calling you and Ruby over to the center of the room.

“Hey guys! Hope you’re as excited as I am to do some fight choreography.” He chirped, flashing a toothy grin.

While Lucas spoke, your attention shifted to Ruby. She stood confidently, her hands resting on her hips as she listened for instructions. You rolled your eyes. Of course she was confident, she had plenty of combat training during “Willow,” and even more during “Bottoms.”

As much as you hated to admit it, this was one area where Ruby outshone you.

“In this scene,” Lucas explained, handing each of you a prop knife labeled with your characters names. “Quinn and Gia both realize they’re from rival mafia families, and draw their weapons at the regional cheer competition.”

You turned the knife over in your hand, running your thumb over the “Quinn” sticker on the handle. “Is this… a real knife?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes, but it’s been dulled for your safety. Don’t worry.”

You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing your lack of coordination posed less of a threat now.

Lucas continued. “For the first part, Quinn, advance towards Gia with the knife raised, like you want to slit her throat. Gia, sidestep and dodge her attack.”

You positioned your knife and lunged at Ruby, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding after she successfully avoided the blade.

Lucas nodded in approval. “Great! Now Gia, advance towards Quinn with your weapon, and she’ll block and engage.”

Ruby lunged at you, but when you tried to block her attack, the knife slipped from your grip and fell from your hand. Your face flushed as you stared at the blade, now lying on the plush mat.

“What was that?” Calvin interrupted, still watching from the corner of the room.

Lucas shot him a sheepish grin. “It’s ok, Calvin. It’s just the first rehearsal.”

Calvin grumbled incoherently as you bent down to pick up your knife. You noticed Ruby’s lips curl into a subtle smirk at your mishap, provoking an eye-roll from you.

“Let’s try that again,” Lucas stated. “This time, Gia, why don’t you try advancing a little slower?”

Ruby nodded, and moved towards you seemingly in slow-motion. This time, you managed the block successfully and engaged your weapons without issue.

Lucas beamed in approval. “Great! Let’s move on.”

He went on with instructions, leading you through the engagement of your weapons. Despite the slow pace, you repeatedly made a fool of yourself throughout the entire rehearsal. Sweaty palms hindered your grip on the knife, and you even managed to confuse your left from your right. Calvin stood fuming in the corner, while Ruby’s initially smug demeanor gradually turned into one of annoyance.

“Alright,” Lucas started, wiping his brow and forcing a tight smile. “For this last part, Gia, focus on disarming your opponent, and then tackle her. Quinn, this should be pretty easy. All you have to do is keep yourself open and fall.”

You gulped and assumed the ‘ready’ position, locking eyes with Ruby. She advanced, carefully redirecting your blade before grabbing your shoulders to push you onto your back. Unfortunately, as you were going down, a misstep caused you to lose your footing. Your arms flailed out of instinct, and in the search for stability, you inadvertently dragged the blade across Ruby’s cheek, leaving a bright red cut in its wake.

Startled, she hissed and dropped you onto the mat, hands moving to cradle her injured cheek. “Ouch! What the hell?!”

Calvin and Lucas rushed to Ruby’s side while you stared at your freshly-bloodied knife and tried to process what had just happened. “I thought you said they were dulled!”

“Well yeah, but they’re still real knives!” Lucas exclaimed, moving Ruby’s hand to see the cut.

A stream of apologies flew from your mouth immediately, but Ruby only responded with an icy glare and Calvin mumbled something about the makeup artist before storming out of the room. A lump rose to your throat as you blinked back tears, humiliated and filled with guilt. Once again, your clumsiness managed to ruin things for the people around you.

As you got up to leave the room, you looked back and met Ruby’s gaze. This time, instead of annoyance or anger, her face held only a look of pity as she watched you walk away.

At the end of the day, after you and Ruby were no longer needed on set, you found yourself standing outside your shared trailer, hands wringing in anticipation for what you were about to do.

Despite your best efforts, you knew your struggle to grasp the fight choreography was impeding production. Ruby, on the other hand, excelled at stage combat. You needed the extra practice, and Lucas had already gone home. After several hours of contemplation, you resolved to set aside your pride and seek help from your sworn enemy.

With a deep breath, you entered the trailer. Ruby was already inside, dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra, clearly in the middle of changing. You felt your cheeks flush as she spun around, revealing a neon green band-aid on her right cheek.

“Ever heard of knocking?” She spat, covering herself defensively.

Your brows furrowed in disbelief. “It’s my trailer too!”

She scoffed, turning around to finish putting her shirt on. You sighed, knowing the odds were already not in your favor.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” you began, prompting her to look back at you, puzzled. “Not about the trailer, but about the knife, and the coffee, and just… everything. I know you think I’m out to get you, but I’m not, I’m just really accident-prone, and for that I’m sorry.”

Her gaze softened slightly, and she nodded, silently accepting your apology. You continued, avoiding eye contact for what you were about to ask.

“Listen… I need your help.”

Your words took her by surprise. “With what?”

“Fight choreography,” you pressed. “I know we don’t really get along, and I wouldn’t ask if I had literally any other option, but you’re incredible at stage combat. Please, I could really use the practice.

“No argument there,” she snarled. “But why should I help you?”

“Because we’re co-stars, if I look good, you look good. Besides, do you really want to risk another one of those?” You gestured to the band-aid on her cheek.

Ruby touched the bandaged wound, wincing from the pain.

Defeated, she groaned. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only on two conditions.”

She stepped closer until she was inches from your face, close enough that her warm breath grazed your skin. You felt the sharp jab of her finger in your chest as she locked eyes with you.

“First, during training, you do everything I say, exactly as I say it. And second…” she moved back, crossing her arms with a smirk. “…you owe me a favor.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “What do you want?”

“I’ll let you know when I think of something,” she replied. “As of right now, we have a fight to train for.”

You followed her to the stunt room, now fully unoccupied as most of the crew had gone home. Ruby switched on the lights and made her way to the props table while you took your spot on one of the mats.

“Hmm,” she scrunched up her nose as she picked up the knives you had used to train earlier. “I really don’t trust you with a weapon right now. No offense.”

“None taken,” you replied, pleasantly surprised at the lack of offense.

Ruby moved around the room in search of a safer substitute. She ended up at a supply cabinet, and sifted through it until she proudly held up a miniature pool noodle.

“Noodles!” She announced, grabbing one and handing you another.

“Perfect,” you exhaled, relieved.

Ruby assumed the ‘ready’ position across from you while you mirrored her stance, gripping the pool noodle as if it were your knife.

“Alright,” she started. “Why don’t we skip the exposition, since there’s no issues there. Let’s jump to the weapon engagement.”

You stepped forward, engaging with Ruby’s noodle. She nodded in approval before continuing the choreography.

“Left, right, no… right. Wait… do you not know your left from your right?”

Embarrassed, you dropped your gaze to the mat. “I do… I just… have to stop and think about it sometimes…”

Ruby chuckled, rolling her eyes. “I am totally going to give you shit about that later, but for now, let’s just work on muscle memory.”

She moved behind you, reaching around to take hold of your wrists before leaning into whisper. “Is this ok?”

A shudder traveled down your spine as her breath tickled your ear, a subtle expression you prayed she didn’t notice. “Y-yeah… you’re good.”

The way her fingertips brushed so gently against your skin felt like a million tiny shocks of electricity, but you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she guided your dominant hand through the movements. “Over, under, around and right.”

She repeated the sequence once more before letting go of you, stepping back to observe. “Show it to me.”

You demonstrated flawlessly, earning a beam of approval.

“Good. Let’s move on.”

From there, Ruby continued to guide you through the combat sequence in its entirety, stopping repeatedly to work out the kinks and offer helpful tips. She taught you where to hold your body weight so you didn’t stumble, and even showed you how to look like you fell on purpose, if necessary. As much as you hated the girl, you had to admit, she was a pretty good teacher.

Eventually, after hours of training, you reached the last step of the routine. Both of you were drenched in sweat and panting hard, but determined to make it to the end.

“Now…” Ruby rested her hands on her knees as she attempted to catch her breath. “Last but not least: the fall. So to start, I push down on your shoulders…”

She placed her hands near your collarbone and gently pushed, causing your arms to flail and smack her with the pool noodle. Immediately letting go of you, she took a step back with her hands up. You froze, expecting her to yell at you, but to your surprise she threw her head back in laughter.

“And that…” she pointed to the band-aid on her cheek “…is how this happened.”

You forced a nervous giggle in response as you stared at her hysterical disposition. Her laugh was crisp, almost melodic, like windchimes in a summer breeze. You weren’t quite sure what she found so funny; perhaps she was so tired from the long rehearsal, she collapsed into a state of hysteria.

Ruby calmed down after a minute or two, wiping away a tear as her breathing subsided. “So, I’m guessing you don’t like having your shoulders touched?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that. I guess it just feels constricting to have someone pushing me while I’m trying to fall safely.”

She clicked her tongue, seemingly deep in thought. “Hmm… why don’t we modify it a little bit? I could push you by your hips, let you fall, and then pin you down.”

“Can we do that?” You asked, concerned about getting into trouble again.

“Yeah, it’s not a huge change. I’m sure Lucas won’t mind. Besides, actor safety is always number one priority… and that includes my own.” She gestured to her cheek again with a lopsided smirk, prompting you to grimace apologetically.

You centered your body weight as she approached you, grasping your sides before letting her fingers wrap around your hip bones. She met your eyes, searching for approval.

“Better?” She asked.

Your voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper. “Yeah. Much better.”

“The most important thing,” she explained, “is to keep your body open.”

She moved her hands from your hips up to your arms, positioning them until they were spread out on each side, as if you were preparing for a big hug.

“When I disarm you, move your arms to the side like this. That way, you’ll have more control over a fall, and I’ll have less chance of getting cut.”

You nodded in understanding as she took a step back, preparing for the attack.

“Slow motion, ok? No rush.”

She carefully walked towards you and grabbed your hips, pushing with gentle pressure. Keeping your body open, you fell safely to the mat, back flat on the floor and arms spread out to your sides.

Ruby stood over you wearing a look of pride and satisfaction before offering out her hand to help you up from the mat.

“Wow,” she exclaimed with a breathless chuckle. “I’m a really great teacher.”

You rolled your eyes at her familiar cocky attitude. “Mhm… so, is that it?”

“Not yet. One more time, from the top. Let’s put it all together.”

“Full speed?” You asked, getting into position.

She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, breathing heavily as she moved to stand across from you. “Don’t you dare hold back.”

On her count, you lunged at her with your noodle before she sidestepped and dodged the attack. She reciprocated with an advance of her own, prompting you to block it and successfully engage your props.

“Left, right, left-left, right,” she called out. “Over, under, around and right.”

The two of you continued sparring, each movement now pristine and polished. Droplets of sweat scattered from your skin as your props flew at lightning speed, every advance met with a clean block or countered with the appropriate attack. It was like your bodies were in perfect sync, months of built up tension finally surfacing to glide seamlessly through combat.

As you reached the end of the routine, Ruby expelled your weapon, disarming you and prompting your arms to extend. She seized your hips, fingertips pressing into your plush sides, and pushed until you could fall safely. Back now flat against the mat, she crawled on top of you, straddling your hips while planting her hands on either side of your head.

Time seemingly froze as Ruby hovered above you, keeping you trapped underneath her. Her face was close, so close that you were panting into each other's mouths. You stared up at her, noticing her bright blue eyes had turned significantly darker, and you swore, just for a split second, you saw them glance down at your lips.

“You…” she panted, breathless. “Y-you…”

Your heart pounded in your chest, flustered from the mix of adrenalines. “W-what about me?”

“You… you smell… so bad.”

With that, she immediately picked herself off of you, leaving you lying in a heap on the mat.

Annoyed and confused, you sat up to glare at her. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she turned away from you and cracked her back. “We’ve been in here for awhile, and you really need a shower.”

“Look who’s talking,” you spat back. “Your hair is literally sticking to your forehead!”

She reached up, awkwardly brushing her hair out of her face while mumbling something incoherent. It was like the air around you had suddenly turned thick with tension, neither of you daring to speak up for fear of saying what you were both thinking.

You decided to break the silence. “What time is it?”

Ruby glanced at her watch. “Almost 1am.”

“Shit,” you responded, not realizing it had gotten so late. “Guess we should…”

“Yeah,” she cut you off.

Without another word, the two of you gathered your things to leave for the evening. On the way out, neither of you offered a “bye” or “see you tomorrow,” but both of you turned to glance back when the other wasn’t looking.

For the remainder of the week, you and Ruby avoided each other like the plague, but not necessarily in the way you had previously. Before, there was always a palpable negative energy looming between the two of you, something Calvin could exploit for the cameras. Now, your scenes read awkwardly, both of you too preoccupied the events of the other night to properly engage in animosity.

This shift in dynamic didn’t go unnoticed by the cast and crew, especially Calvin, who never hesitated to hide his frustration. He desperately sought chemistry, and realized that forcing you to share a trailer wasn’t cutting it anymore. At this point, he was willing to do whatever it took to reignite that spark.

One day, Calvin informed you that lunch would be served in the stunt room. It seemed odd, food being served in the industry equivalent to a trampoline park, but Calvin typically had some rationale behind his unconventional ideas, so you didn’t question it.

When lunch break rolled around, you walked into the stunt room to find it completely dark and empty, aside from Ruby, who stood in the center of the room looking confused. Upon seeing you, she froze.

“Uh… hey.” She muttered, pointing her gaze to the floor.

“Hey yourself,” you replied awkwardly. “Uhm, did Calvin tell you lunch was being served here?”

“Yeah, actually,” she furrowed her brow, glancing around the room. “But I haven’t seen any caterers or anything.”

“Weird, I wonder why he would-“

Suddenly, you were cut off by a door slam, followed by the sharp click of a lock. You and Ruby stared at each other, panic-stricken on your faces before rushing to try the door handle.

“What the… hey! Let us out!” Ruby shouted, pounding on the door after the handle wouldn’t budge.

As you watched Ruby struggle against the door, realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “Calvin!”

“What are you talking about?” Ruby growled.

“Think about it,” you explained. “He’s been frustrated with us all week, our scenes have sucked, he lied to both of us…”

Giving up on the door, Ruby leaned against it and turned to glare at you. “You think he locked us in here on purpose?”

You shot her a knowing look. She groaned frustratedly, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back against the door.

“That is exactly something he would do,” she exclaimed.

“Someone’s going to sue that man one day,” you huffed.

Ruby snickered in agreement. “Why don’t we?”

“Pretty sure that would require us to actually talk to each other.”

Silence fell between the two of you, as what was supposed to be a lighthearted joke turned into you accidentally addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s not like we ever talked much before…” Ruby muttered, breaking the silence.

“That’s not true,” you argued. “We used to bicker constantly. Now we’re just… weird.”

“This whole week has been weird.” Ruby agreed.

“Why?” You pushed, squinting at her. “You helped me out with a fight scene, and now we’re like two twelve-year-olds at a middle school dance. How does that make sense?”

“I don’t know! I just…” Ruby sighed exasperatedly, and put her head in her hands.

Your gaze softened as you realized the brunette was struggling with her words. Usually, she radiated confidence, an attribute of hers that made you burn with jealousy. Now, she exuberated hesitance like you’d never seen, with her body backed up against the door and her face covered with her hands.

You took a step towards her, and spoke softly. “Ruby, you and I both know we’re not getting out of here until we start talking.”

Realizing you had a point, Ruby groaned and dropped her hands. She refused to look you in the eye, instead opting to stare at your feet while she searched for the right words.

“When we were… fighting,” she began, chewing on each word as if it were molasses. “There was a moment where… I had you pinned…”

She swallowed involuntarily at the blatant description. Your face flushed, but you nodded in an attempt to coax more out of her.

“I was looking down at you… and… I guess… I just realized… maybe I don’t… hate you… as much as I thought I did.”

The moisture drained from your mouth as her confession caught you completely off guard. Half of you had the urge to make fun of her, and the other half just wanted to grab her shoulders and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

Instead, you decided to probe on. “You don’t?”

“I don’t think I ever did,” she confessed in a half-whisper. “I never really got to know you before, I think I just… saw you as competition. I mean, you were at every audition, how could I not? I think my mind just filled in the blanks? I don’t know.”

“Well, what do you know?” You asked, moving closer and causing her breath to hitch as she was caught between you and the door.

“I think… no, I know… you don’t… hate me either?”

She apprehensively searched your features for an answer, as what was supposed to be a statement came out as more of a question. You nodded, prompting her to exhale in relief before continuing.

“I know that I don’t have to see you as competition. I know that it may have taken me a while to realize it, but the time we’ve spent together on set has been the best month of my life. I know that I hate feeling vulnerable, so if you ever tell anyone about this I’ll deny it… and then I probably actually will hate you.”

You chuckled at her joke, and she began to relax as a warm smile spread across her face. By now, you had moved close enough that your faces were mere inches from each other, and you could just barely hear her breathing over the pounding of your heartbeat.

“So… what now?” You asked, secretly hoping for one specific answer.

She glanced down at your lips, eyeing them hungrily as she hesitated. “I, uh… I think I know… what I want that favor to be.”

Your eyes widened, surprised at her sudden bold demeanor. But as you gazed at her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, and eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension, you knew there was nothing in the world that could stop you from fulfilling that favor.

Grabbing her jaw, you brought her face closer and crashed your lips together. A small gasp escaped her lips at first, but she soon grasped at your sides and started to kiss back. Her lips were soft, but her kisses were rough and passionate, something you weren’t surprised at given her usual fiery personality.

Her middle finger wrapped around one of the belt loops on your jeans, giving her leverage to pull you closer to her. A quiet whimper erupted from the back of your throat, the feeling of her body pressed against yours being enough to make your knees buckle. You grabbed onto the back of her neck for support, simultaneously pulling her towards you even more and spurring moans of approval from your newfound lover.

Eventually, you pulled apart, both of you gasping to catch your breath, but neither of you letting go of the other. As you stood there, wrapped in Ruby’s embrace, you couldn’t help but survey her features. Her eyes had darkened from overwhelming desire, and her lips were pink and puffy, coated with your saliva. Her originally shiny brunette locks were now disheveled, stray hairs sticking out from the static electricity of being thrust against the door.

She was a mess, but in that moment, you swore you had never seen anything more beautiful.

A breathy chuckle left her parted lips, breaking the silence. “I, uh… I was actually just gonna ask if you knew how to pick a lock.”

Your jaw dropped in shock as you stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “Are you serious?”

She shook her head no, erupting into laughter at her own joke. You glared at her, unamused, but soon found yourself stifling a giggle. Enemies or otherwise, Ruby was always going to be a sarcastic hothead, and nothing could change that.

“Wow…” she sighed breathlessly.

“I know…” you agreed. “Guess we should thank Calvin, huh?”

Ruby began to chuckle before her eyes suddenly widened in horror. “Shit, Calvin!”

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused at her change in demeanor. “What about Calvin?”

“He casted us together because we hated each other,” she whisper-screamed, eyes darting between you and the locked door. “Everything he’s done has been to fuel the fire: forcing us to share a trailer, locking us in here! He wants us to hate each other, he doesn’t care what it takes! If he finds out about this…”

Panic washed over you as your mind swarmed with possible things Calvin would do to taint your relationship if he found out about your feelings for each other.

“Shit,” you exclaimed. “What do we do?”

Ruby pursed her lips, deep in thought as she racked her brain for ideas. Suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off in her head, she turned to you with a wicked grin.

“We’re actors,” she replied. “We act.”

Gripping your shoulders, she walked you backwards before letting go and returning to her original position. Confusion painted your features; you didn’t know what Ruby was up to, but you were curious to find out.

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” she exclaimed loudly. “In fact, you’re the last person I’d ever want to be stuck filming with!”

Her sudden shift in attitude left you puzzled and a little hurt, but you quickly understood her intentions after she shot you a sly wink.

“Oh yeah?” You retorted, playing along. “Right back atcha! In fact, if I never saw you again, it’d be too soon!”

Ruby stifled a laugh before quickly getting back into character. “I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“Fine!”

At this last remark, the sharp click of the lock sounded again, and the door swung open. Calvin stood in the doorway, a huge ear-to-ear grin spread across his face.

“Welcome back, you two.”

He left the door open, and motioned for you to follow him out. You started to exit the room, but as soon as Calvin’s back was turned, Ruby grabbed your wrist and spun you around to capture your lips in hers once again.

A sharp inhale echoed against the back of your throat as she took you by surprise, but you pulled her close and kissed her back in a heartbeat. This kiss was different from the last, with the newfound excitement mixing with the terrifying prospect of being caught. The rush of adrenalines had never tasted so sweet.

Ruby pulled back with haste, immediately looking over her shoulder to make sure Calvin didn’t see. When the coast was clear, she turned back to you with half-lidded eyes.

“I hate you,” she muttered, a goofy grin spreading across her face.

You giggled, covering your mouth to suppress the sound before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I hate you, too.”

226 notes · View notes

kelcemenow · 11 months

Text

Missing.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 4640

Warnings Strong language, angst, smut, fluff. It's also really long and my proof-reading wasn't the best for this one!

I'm back to requests! This Anon has been waiting a long time which I'm so sorry for but I wanted to get As The Snow Falls finished first...I'm not good with having multiple stories going at once! "I have a new request angst to fluff - Travis x reader - Reader feels far from Travis due to practice and games she has been doing her best being there for him but something is falling after a game Travis accidentally takes out his anger on the reader that ends on a big relationship argument leading the reader to go out and stay with a friend for two nights having no contact with Travis making him realize he had to do something to prevent leaving the love of his life, and the have a happy ending I’ll let you continue with what you want"

The door slammed with force as you carefully poured the deep, ruby red coloured liquid from the bottle into the glass positioned in front of you. You turned your chin over your shoulder to look towards the living room to see Travis dropping his practice bag by the front door and charging towards the staircase.

You clenched your jaw and stared down at the perfectly cooked steak you had prepared along with roasted vegetables and a velvety blue cheese sauce. Travis had been distant for a few weeks, spending much of his time at practices and games. Even when he arrived home from his time at Arrowhead, he was quiet and irritable.

You were a few months into your whirlwind relationship and you weren't prepared for the stress of the football season. After all, this was a new environment for you. The late nights, the time away from each other, the media.

Pushing your chair away from you, you stood up from the dining table and quietly made your way up to your bedroom. Travis was changing out of his clothes, the steam from the running shower pouring out of the en-suite bathroom.

"Did you not shower after practice?" You said as you leaned against the doorframe.

Travis lifted his personalised Kansas City Chiefs t-shirt over his head, "Yeah. I need another one." His voice was monotonous and stern.

You looked down at your feet, "I made you dinner. I thought it would be nice to have a night in with a movie or something too?"

"I'm not hungry."

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat, "And the movie?"

"I have games to watch." Travis pulled his sweatpants from his legs followed by his briefs.

You couldn't help but to let your eyes linger on his bare ass. His body was in peak condition due to the season starting, his firm muscles tight and strong.

"Is everything okay, Trav?" You asked with a shaky breath.

He rubbed his eyes with one hand, clutching at his discarded clothes with the other, tossing them into the laundry hamper, "I'm tired, okay? I don't need this."

You took a small step backwards and watched as he disappeared into the adjoining bathroom, his head still in his hands. You waited for a few seconds, hoping that he would run out of the room and towards you, profusely apologising for being short with you, holding you in his arms and laying kisses all over your face exactly like he used to. But he didn't.

You made your way back to the dining room, silently reminiscing of the early days in your relationship. You had met by chance through his coach Andy Reid. Your Mom was an old friend of his wife Tammy and when you were picking your Mom up after visiting her, Travis stopped by. Tammy was all too pleased to introduce you both, her and your Mom standing in the doorway and watching the flirting between you. Travis reached out to you a couple of days later.

"Hey Y/N, it's Travis from the other day. Cancel any plans you have for tonight for tonight because I'm taking you out."

You were taken aback by his forward approach, but flattered that the superstar athlete was paying you his attention.

"And what if I say no?"

Your love life had been historically dull. You'd been on dates and had a few short-term relationships but nothing seemed to stick. You either lost interest or the initial spark naturally fizzled out.

"I'll pick you up at 8."

Your first date was different from any other you'd had before. Travis had taken you axe throwing in the city and you had had an incredible time. Your eyes drifted to the fireplace. Positioned on the mantle was a framed photograph of that night. Travis' arm was hooked around the back of your neck and you were looking up at him with glassy eyes as he took a selfie of the two of you, his wide smile stretching from ear to ear.

You picked up the plates and with a long exhale of breath, deposited the food into the trash. Tears formed in your eyes as you clung to the countertop, your chest heaving with heavy sobs.

______________________________________________________________

"And he hasn't even apologised yet?"

"No, he's gone to practice. He left before I even woke up." Your hands were fidgeting with the sleeve of your sweatshirt as you sat on the couch.

Your best friend Amber had called you to double check your lunch plans and the conversation had drifted to your relationship woes.

"Maybe I went into this too quickly?"

You heard Amber sigh down the phone, "But that's not a reason as to why he's acting like a huge dick."

"I know, I know." You laughed under your breath, "He has a game at Arrowhead tomorrow."

"Are you gonna go?"

You paused for a moment. You had been to every single one of Travis' home games so far and a couple of the away ones. By not going, you were worried you would cause more tension.

"I think so." You said.

"I could come with you if you want?"

You smiled, "That would be awesome. Really, thank you."

"Don't mention it. I need some girl time, even if it is watching football. I'll get Chase to watch the boys. Just let me know what time to meet you and I'll be there." You heard some quiet commotion in the background, "Hunter, leave that alone. Sorry babe but I gotta go."

"Go, I'll text you later."

"Bye honey!"

Your arm dropped onto the sofa, your cell phone still clutched in your palm. The house felt empty and even though you were the only one there, it still some how felt empty when Travis was home. The rooms used to be full of laughter and noise, music playing or effervescent conversation. Lately, it was cold and tense. Something was missing.

You spent the rest of the day trying to let time pass quickly. You worked out for an hour, cleaned the kitchen and took a shower. It wasn't until later when you were loading the machine with laundry that you thought about Travis again. As you picked up his t-shirt from the night before, his warm scent drifted past your nose. You instantly felt melancholic, almost drained. Your daze was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and closing. You dropped Travis' t-shirt in with the rest of the laundry and stood up from the floor before setting the machine away. You could hear Travis' footsteps around the house, moving from room to room, presumably looking for you.

"I'm here, baby." You called out.

As you stepped into the kitchen, Travis appeared suddenly in front you.

You jumped back slightly, a slight scream escaping your mouth, "Oh! Travis! You scared the shit out of me!"

He looked red faced and sweaty, "I came back from practice early."

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You left early? Why?"

"I felt bad about last night. I..." He looked down as his voice trailed off, "I got you these."

He sheepishly produced a beautiful bouquet of red roses from behind his back.

"Travis! These are gorgeous!"

He took a hold of your hand, "Baby, I'm so sorry. I know I've been in my head a bit these past couple of weeks."

You stared up into his pale, glossed eyes, "Well, next time you get stuck in my head. Talk to me, okay?"

"I love you." He whispered.

You smiled, "More and and more, everyday babe."

His eyes creased into a grin, relief filling his face. He enveloped you into a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Your fingers grazed the back of his neck as his lips began laying gentle kisses onto your skin. You relaxed into his hold, feeling safe and content that you had him back again. His kisses trailed towards your mouth that you gladly accepted, allowing his tongue to explore yours. You pulled away quickly so that you were able to take a gasp of air and Travis' hands grabbed onto your ass, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carefully carried you over to the countertop and gently placed you onto it. His eyes darted to your core, your shorts riding up dangerously high. There was almost a darkness that flashed across his face which only caused you to ache and yearn more for him.

He lunged towards you, taking your face in his hands and pressing his mouth onto yours. Your heads dipped and weaved in a perfect rhythm with each other as the kiss deepened further. You held onto the neckline of his shirt, your knuckles turning white. Small moans filled your mouth as the vibrations from Travis' lips forced your hips to grind gently.

"I want you." He whispered.

You removed your t-shirt quickly, throwing it across the room, "You have me."

His eyes widened at the sight of your bare breasts, his mouth dropping open a little. He dropped to his knees and dragged his tongue from your ankle and along the inside of your thigh, reaching your covered pussy. His fingers played with the fabric as you leaned back slightly, opening your legs further.

"Oh, baby." Travis' voice was low, almost a growl.

Your pussy pulsated as your aching intensified. Travis watched intently as a small wet patch formed on your pale blue shorts, his bottom lip quivering.

"You're so wet already, baby girl."

You reached forward and grabbed at the back of his head, "Just fuck me, Travis."

He jumped up quickly and pulled his sweatpants away from his body, letting them fall around his ankles. He pulled your shorts to the side, not even wasting time in taking them off and wrapped his large hand around his engorged cock. He pumped it a few times before lining himself up with your glistening entrance. Travis' eyes quickly connected with yours before you looked down, watching as he pushed his cock inside of you. Your mouth opened, letting a loud gasp escape into the room.

He filled you perfectly, stretching your walls ever so slightly. His fingers kneaded into your ass as he thrusted roughly, the sounds of wet skin slapping getting louder with each motion. You held him closely to you, feeling his hot breath against your collarbone and listened intently to each grunt and moan from his mouth.

You noticed that Travis' thrusts were starting to slow, every action taking more time than the last.

"Everything okay?" You breathed.

He avoided your gaze, "Yeah. I'm just so close...but I want to last a bit longer for you."

Something tightened in your core, "It's okay baby, just enjoy it. Don't stress."

Travis hissed through his struggle as he gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, "I want you to come first."

You could feel yourself unravelling, "I'm almost there, keep going."

He looked up at you and nodded, resuming his previous pace, his hips snapping forwards harshly. You screamed loudly through the intense pleasure, your vision blurring. Your skin was sticking to his, caused by the slick layer of sweat that was coating the both of you. Travis' face twisted, his eyebrows pulled in together and his jaw clenched tightly. He huffed through his teeth a few times before your pussy fiercely throbbed, signalling your orgasm. You watched as Travis lowered his head, watching your wetness coat his dick as his thrusts became sloppy and unpredictable.

Your pussy was becoming overstimulated, every movement causing your walls to contract tighter. Your head fell forward slightly and your mouth made contact with Travis' shoulder, your teeth sinking into his flesh.

Travis cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure. His hips gave a couple more hard jolts before his whole body became tense, his eyes widened and a breathy moan rang in your ear.

You both caught your breath for a few seconds before Travis lay gentle kisses on your collarbone, his mouth humming in contentment. He leaned away slightly to reach for some kitchen towel, handing some to you before he carefully pulled his dick out, cum seeping from your folds.

"I can run you a bath?" He asked.

You purred in agreement, letting him help you to hop down from the countertop and hand you your shirt. Your heart fluttered as you looked at your hand in his, which looked tiny in comparison. It was as if the last couple of weeks hadn't even happened. You had your Travis back.

______________________________________________________________

Your fingers tapped at your phone screen.

"Want me to wait for you outside the locker room? X"

Amber was standing next to you, her eyes scanning the emptying field, "It was still a good game, right?"

You turned to her, your eyebrows lowered, "That won't matter. He missed 3 touchdowns, got 2 personal fowls and he gave away an interception. They may have won by a couple of points, but something is off with Travis."

"But you said everything was okay now?"

You shoved your hands into your coat pockets, "Yeah, I mean last night he apologised and we talked and spent time together...and we had the most amazing sex."

Amber beamed at you, "Well then, that's a good sign?"

"I suppose so. I just hope he isn't beating himself up too much." You felt your cell phone vibrate against your fingers. Pulling it out of your pocket, you read the reply from Travis.

"No, it's fine. I gotta deal with some stuff here. You go home."

"On the other hand, he might just go back to miserable Travis." You said, disappointed.

Amber craned her neck to see the phone screen. She took a couple of seconds to see the messages before she shook her head, "Girl, just go and see him. He clearly needs his woman to console him."

"You saw what he said. He has some stuff to figure out. I don't wanna push his boundaries." You pulled your Chiefs knit hat down a little further, "I'll just meet him at home."

Amber sucked the air through her teeth, "Okay, if you think that's the right thing to do?"

You began to shuffle out of the viewing box, crowds of people filing out into the parking lot. The air outside was cold, bitter against your cheeks and as you walked around the side of the stadium, you noticed someone rushing out of a side door. You squinted your eyes, trying hard to focus on the figure when you heart dropped to your stomach.

"Is that Travis?" Amber said, her finger pointing forwards.

You squinted harder, watching as your boyfriend pulled his hood up and jumped into his car, speeding away down the road.

Amber continued, "Where is he going?"

"I...I don't know."

"Maybe he's changed his mind and he's going to meet you at home?"

You swallowed hard, "Then why didn't he call me to tell me that?"

There was a moment of silence before Amber grabbed onto your arm, "Maybe he wanted to surprise you? Maybe he's gone to get you some more roses...or dinner...or something?"

"Maybe." You said quietly.

You couldn't shake the worrying feeling that was lying in the pit of your stomach. You felt as though the hotdog and soda that you had consumed during the game was going to make another appearance.

"I'd better shoot off. Chase is probably tearing his hair out with the boys." She squeezed your hand, "Not that he's a terrible Father. He's great! But when you've got two, it's hard, you know? One starts climbing on the furniture and the other is pulling the trash from the bin."

"Amber." You placed your other hand over hers, "I know you're trying to ease the awkward atmosphere...and I really appreciate it. But I think I just want to go home."

She gave you a sincere smile, pulling you closer for a hug before heading to her own car and leaving you stood in the parking lot. Swarms of people were filtering past you as you tried to figure out what Travis was doing. You closed your eyes after a few moments and shook your head, desperate not to let your brain spiral to exaggerated thoughts that you wanted to avoid.

The drive home was difficult to say the least. It was almost as if every radio station knew of your struggle, continuously playing songs detailing heartbreak, cheating, lies and broken relationship. After the fourth or fifth try, you gave up, turning the radio off with loud sigh.

Confusion set in when you pulled into the driveway and Travis' car was nowhere in sight. You turned your engine off, wondering where he could be. He had left before you and before most of the traffic, meaning he would've made it home earlier. Unless he had come home and gone back out.

The house was quiet, just as you'd left it, only furthering your confusion. You pulled your phone out of your bag, tapping the screen.

"Where are you? I'm home and you're not here?"

Sitting down on the sofa, you turned on the television, hoping for a distraction but you barely had time to focus on the screen when your eyes began to droop. Your skin tingled as your muscles completely relaxed before you drifted off to sleep.

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes fluttered open as the lights of a car shone into the darkened room. Your hand felt around for the television remote, turning it off and reaching for the lamp. Rubbing your eyes, you grabbed your phone to check the time.

01.30.

Your chest tightened quickly. You heard the sound of keys jiggling in the front door before it opened and Travis walked in, his game bag in his hand.

"Where have you been?" You said, coldly.

Travis looked at you with no hint of an expression, "I just needed to sort some things out."

"At Arrowhead?" You pressed.

"Yeah."

"So, why did I see you get into your car immediately after the game?"

He avoided your gaze, choosing to walk towards the kitchen and placing his bag onto the floor.

"Travis?" You asked, your voice getting louder.

"What?" He snapped as he returned into the room.

Standing up from the sofa, you could feel the anger building inside of you, "Is this why you've been weird lately? Barely speaking to me, barely spending any time with me?"

Travis' eyes burned into you from across the room, "What are you getting at?"

"Are you fucking someone else?"

He said nothing. Instead, he looked down at the floor and started laughing under his breath.

A red mist descended over you, "Travis. Answer me!"

"This is ridiculous."

"Okay. So, now I'm being ridiculous."

Travis slammed his keys onto the cabinet next to him, "Don't you dare put words in my mouth. I didn't say you were being ridiculous, but right now, you fucking are. I fucked up tonight."

Your eyebrows knitted together, "What do you mean?"

"I fucked up the game! I don't know if you were paying attention out there but I sucked. Big time. Pat is mad at me, Coach is made at me, I let the whole team down."

"But, you won?"

"That's not the fucking point!" He yelled, his face flashing red, "I don't know where my head is right now. And you're not helping!"

You stepped back slightly, "I'm not helping? All I've been trying to do is help! But you won't let me. You don't want me to."

The room was silent. It was eerie and tense.

You cleared your throat, shifting the large lump that had formed, "So, you know what? I'll just go."

Travis watched as you disappeared up the staircase, "Babe. No, I didn't mean that."

You slammed the bedroom door, grabbing a few essentials that you needed, trying desperately to hold back the flood of tears that you knew were imminent. You typed furiously on your phone, sending a message to someone who you knew could help you. You heard Travis move into his office downstairs and took the opportunity to leave while you could. You didn't want to see him and you certainly didn't want another argument, so you disappeared out of the front door, grabbing your car keys on the way.

Rain was pouring from the dark clouds above you, soaking your body almost immediately. With a press of a button, your car headlights lit up the front of the house. Taking shelter in the car, the sound of the raindrops hitting against the windscreen rang loudly in your ears. As soon as you pulled out of the driveway, you internal dam burst. You blinked the tears away as fast as you could but it was no use, the mixture of the rain covered windscreen and your bleary eyes made it hard for you to see the road ahead. Luckily, you knew exactly where you were going and it wasn't far away. You ignored your cell phone that had been ringing non-stop since you had left the house and continued down the road that you knew all too well.

Once you had arrived, you quietly knocked on the door, wiping your wet eyes with your sweatshirt sleeve. It opened almost immediately and Amber emerged from the house with open arms and a sympathetic smile.

"Honey, come in."

______________________________________________________________

You felt numb. You felt empty. You felt like something was definitely missing now.

For the last couple of days or so, Amber had been an incredible friend, giving you space and bringing you cups of hot tea almost every hour. But the one thing she kept doing, was talking about Travis.

"Maybe you should call him?" She said to a pile of blankets that were strewn on the bed.

"I don't want to call him." You said from underneath.

She started to peel the layers back, "He's called you about 60 times...which you would know if you looked at your cell."

"I just said, I don't want to call him."

"I know, I know. But he's called me a few times and he just sounds do upset."

You pushed the blankets away from your face, "You spoke to him?"

Amber tipped her head to one side, "Yeah. I didn't plan on it, I swear. But he wasn't giving up and I just thought someone should at least hear what he has to say."

You brought your hand up to your face, your teeth clamping down on your nails.

"Maybe we should go for a walk? Get you some fresh air?"

You stared up at her for a few seconds.

"You know, it'll be good for you? It'll be amazing how much better you'll feel once you're up and about. We could go and grab a coffee and head over to the-"

"Alright, alright." You rolled your eyes, "If I say yes, will you shut up?"

Amber beamed back at you, "Yes, I will!"

______________________________________________________________

It was a crisp morning, the cool air whipping around your face. The small park nearby to Amber's house was calm, with brown leaves dusted all over the grass. The pathways were lined with swaying trees and even though you hated to admit it, you did feel better.

Your takeaway coffee cup was warming your hands and the hot liquid tingled on your tongue. Amber held up to her promise and said very little, allowing you to clear your head and enjoy the walk.

Pouring the last of your coffee into your mouth, you scanned the area for a nearby trash can. You spotted one next to a small bench and as you approached it, you noticed a letter resting on the wooden panels. Furrowing your brows, you leaned in closer to see what was written on the front of the envelope.

‘Y/N’

You spun around to see Amber holding her hands to her face. She quickly shuffled towards you and took the empty cup from you, throwing it into the trashcan. She held you by your shoulders and looked at you with anticipation and a slight hint of guilt.

"Don't hate me, okay?"

Leaning down, she picked up the letter and handed it to you, taking a couple of steps back.

Your fingers gently caressed the cream envelope for a moment. You took a deep breath and opened it, immediately seeing Travis' handwriting covering the white paper.

"Read it out loud." Amber said, excitement in her voice.

You shot her a look before staring down at the letter in your hands. "My Y/N. My whole life I have had to be part of a team. Countless times I have taken on the responsibility of making sure my team are rock solid, focused and have each others backs. But I realise now that I have neglected the most important team of all. Our team. Me and you."

A small lump formed in your throat as you read the words.

"I know I have been distant these past couple of weeks, I have closed myself off from you when I should have been honest and told you the truth."

You could feel your heart thumping harder and harder.

"I guess I was scared, worried. But I've realised that our team, me and you, mean more to me than I first thought. When I met you, you changed me. You make me a better person and I cannot thank you enough for that. I feel so grateful that I have you in my life and I want to spend every second that I can with you."

Your hands began to tremble.

"I am so sorry that I ever made you feel the way you did. I should be the one protecting you from hurt and disappointment, and I have let you down. I have been a mess without you. Without your singing when you're in the shower. Without your delicious baking. Without the smell of your perfume around the house. Something has been missing these past couple of days and I want it back. If you can ever forgive me, please believe me when I say that I am sorry and I love you."

"More and more, everyday babe."

You whipped your head around to see Travis standing with his hands burrowed into his pockets. He looked pale and tired.

"Travis?" You breathed.

He shook his head, staring into your eyes intently, "That night, when I came home late, I was visiting your parents."

"My parents?"

"Yeah. Man, your Dad is chatty. That's why I was so late."

Your face twisted with confusion, "Then why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because I wanted it to be a surprise."

You watched as Travis lowered himself down onto one knee, pulling his hands from his pockets and presenting a small velvet box. Amber squealed with excitement and your jaw dropped open in shock.

"I've never loved anyone the way I love you. And that scared me, but it shouldn't have. You are so perfect for me and I want to spend my life with you, if you'll have me?"

Moisture built up in your eyes and when you squeezed them shut, tears began falling down your cheeks. You quickly wiped them dry so that you could see when Travis opened the box, a beautiful white gold ring inside, encrusted with diamonds.

"Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Oh my God, yes! Yes!" You cried, bending down to take his face in your hands.

Travis stood up, carefully placing the ring onto your finger. He looked deeply into your eyes as his arms snaked around your waist, holding you closely to him. "I've got my missing piece back."

"And it's all because of me!" Amber sang as she ran towards you both, throwing her arms around you as you laughed, clutching the letter that brought you back.

_____________________________________________________________

I love to imagine that Travis is this romantic. However, I do struggle writing him to be a moody asshole! My requests are still closed until I make a bigger dent into my current list. Which I will get through as quickly as I can. My main problem is, my fics always end up way longer that I intend them to be!

To be included on my Taglist, just give me a shout!

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693 notes · View notes

aphroditelovesu · 1 year

Text

The Bloody Viscount - I

— summary: You had fallen in love with Viscount Bridgerton and he had fallen in love with you. The marriage seemed perfect, but then why did Anthony Bridgerton always come home late and bloodstained?

— gender: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, kidnapping, angst, fluffy, dub-con (?), possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!anthony bridgerton x female!reader.

— word count: +1,634.

— tag list: @will-delete-this-later-probably, @cayt0123, @flowercrowns-goodvibes, @czarinera

— prologue; chapter 2;

Chapter 1

''Dear and gentle readers,

Another social season begins and the bustle of the city returns with new marriage opportunities. Mothers desperate to find a good match for their daughters and singles looking for a suitable bride.

It is indeed a confusion, but one that will become more so after information has reached this author that Viscount Bridgerton is looking for a wife. Who will be the young woman who will hold this rake's attention?''

Chronicles of the Society of Lady Whistledown, April 26, 1813.

You threw the flyer on the floor when your mom came into the room. She frowned at you and you gave a guilty smile.

''(Y/N) you know I hate it when you read those gossip flyers.'' Your mother scolded you as she sat next to you on the couch.

''Sorry Mom, I just... I was curious.'' You muttered under your breath, aware of the scolding looks she was sending you.

''I've told you countless times, a lady shouldn't read too much.'' You watched your mother pick a biscuit from the plate and eat it with grace. You shrugged your shoulders at that sight. Your mother had always been a graceful woman even though she had low status, she acted like a real lady and that bothered you.

It bothered you because you knew you would never be as perfect as she was.

''I know! It's just...'' You thought quickly, ''Did you know that Viscount Brigderton is looking for a wife?'' Your mother's eyes brightened immediately.

You regretted her words the moment they left your mouth.

''Oh really? This is wonderful!'' Your mother's normally cold eyes turned gentle and warm. That wasn't a good sign, it was never a good sign.

You frowned and picked up the gossip pamphlet, wanting to get back to your reading. Your mother looked at you with disdain and took it from your hand.

''Mom!'' You protested.

''Silence! I'm reading.'' She grumbled, looking at you reproachfully. You huffed and sank down onto the couch, crossing your arms and sighing.

You didn't say another word to your parents until the next day. Not even at dinner which was always a hostile and uncomfortable moment where you felt more judged than ever.

You would never get used to Lady Danbury's balls.

You didn't have many certainties in your life at the moment, but you knew you'd never get used to how well planned they were.

You looked around and smiled weakly. The whole hall was decorated according to the tastes of its owner, ornate flowers, musicians, drinks and all dressed in impeccable ways. And, to make everything fancy, there was the Queen present. Looking at everyone with judgments and maybe looking for her diamond.

The ladies wore graceful and beautiful dresses, some more fortunate ones used jewels in their dresses. Jewels adorned them, you didn't fail to notice Lady Cressida Cowper showing off her neck adorned with a ruby necklace given to her by the new Lord Featherington.

And the gentlemen were dressed alike, you noticed. Or almost. Stylish suits and what complemented them very well.

And there was you. You looked pretty, that's what you'd been told and what you'd seen in the mirror, but you were wearing something more modest. Without much adornment, small and discreet earrings, a diamond necklace that had belonged to your grandmother and your hair done in a simple hairstyle but that left your features visible.

You thought you were pretty and you thought you looked pretty, but seeing the other ladies, you can't help but feel a little insecure.

Your fingers tightened on the hem of your dress, and if you hadn't been wearing gloves, you might have seen them turn white. You took a deep breath and looked around, amusement passed through your body when you noticed a group of young people and their mothers surrounding some poor man.

But when you realized who the poor man was your breath got deeper. As if you were desperate for air.

Viscount Bridgerton.

Your eyes met Viscount Brigderton's and you felt your face heat up as you felt the intensity he was staring at you.

He was an attractive man, you had to confess. And it wasn't the way he looked, sure, he was handsome, but the look in his eyes was what stunned you. The passion they conveyed put you to shame.

And the fact that eyes were thrown in his direction made you even more cornered. Looking away to a random spot on the ball, you smiled as you watched the couples dancing and people chatting and gossiping.

You turned to your mother, who was watching all the men at the party carefully, sizing them up. You mentally rolled your eyes at that, she was so determined to find you a husband that she didn't even ask you what you wanted.

It's not that you didn't want to get married, you wanted and would like to have a family one day, but... You didn't know how to deal with all that. This was his first season and your mother, Lady (L/N), seemed very committed to getting a good match for you.

And it wasn't for your happiness, you noticed.

It was to raise your family's social status. As the only child, it was your responsibility to improve your parents' lives. It was your duty and something you'd been raised to do since birth.

Raised to become a proper wife.

Your education, your tastes, everything that was taught to you should correspond to the tastes of your future husband. And your mother had been pretty strict about it. Your dad was more relaxed, but he always made his expectations of you clear.

Your mother's eyes turned to the Viscount and you felt like hiding. She looked him up and down, he was talking to an older woman, who you assumed was Lady Violet Bridgerton. His mother.

You watched your mother straighten her posture and start walking across the room, towards the Viscount. Your face got even redder because you knew what your mother would do.

What she always did. She would start babbling about you and your skills and what she thought you liked. How good and sweet you were, how motherly you were.

You mentally sneered and frowned when you saw your mother coming, accompanied by Lady and Viscount Bridgerton. You looked away quickly and turned so you could flee, when the Viscount's deep, sensual voice called out to you.

''Lady (Y/N) (L/N)?''

A shiver ran down your spine at the tone that had your name coming out of his mouth and you mentally scolded yourself. You straightened your posture and turned to face him.

You bowed slightly, lowering your head in submission, as your mother had taught you, and looked into his dark eyes.

''Lord Bridgerton.'' You smiled weakly, ''It's a pleasure to meet you, milord.''

You could have sworn you saw him wince at the title and his eyes darken even further.

Lord Bridgerton took your gloved left hand and pressed a kiss to it. Your body involuntarily shuddered at the touch, you bit your lower lip discreetly and felt your cheeks redden with the shame you felt.

''The pleasure is all mine.'' He released your hand gently. ''Would you do me the honor of a dance?''

You could have sworn your heart stopped at that moment.

And that you had heard a sound like a scream come out of your mother's throat.

But you smiled at him and bowed, ''Of course.''

You extended your hand to him and he took it. Lord Bridgerton guided you to the center of the dance floor. You stopped facing each other and when the music started, he started leading you in a classical dance.

You were uncomfortable with the intensity he was staring at you, but you tried to push it aside and focus on his footsteps.

''Nervous?'' He asked and you quickly denied it. He laughed a little and for a moment you thought he was laughing at you.

Amused, he continued to talk to you as you danced, ''I've never seen you at any of Lady Danbury's balls…''

''It's my first season.'' You replied, looking into his eyes.

''I see.'' Lord Bridgerton whirled you around and brought you into his strong arms again. ''You must be looking forward to getting married then.'' It wasn't a question but you answered it like one anyway.

''I am...''

''Anyone in mind?''

You blinked in surprise and answered uncomfortably, ''No... I don't think so.''

''Would you like to have children? When and how many?''

''Yes I would like. Not sure when and how many, but considerable time after the wedding and an amount that pleases both me and my husband would be well received.''

The Viscount hummed and you continued to dance in silence. When the song came to an end, you pulled apart and you bowed to him and he did the same.

''Thank you for the dance, milord.'' You lowered your head and waved at him.

''I thank you, Lady (Y/N)(L/N).'' Lord Bridgerton kissed your hand once more and smiled lovingly. He whispered inaudibly, ''I hope to see you again.''

You blushed at the tone and what it meant. Perhaps you had just captivated a Viscount.

You wanted to say something else, but he had already left. You looked around and saw your mother talking animatedly to Lady Violet. You sighed and were about to go to her when the Queen's voice rang out.

She would finally announce who would be her diamond.

You noticed all the young ladies looking anxious, as well as the gentlemen.

''My choice for this season's diamond is...'' The Queen made a cliffhanger and everyone held their breath, she smiled and looked in her direction, ''Lady (Y/N)(L/N).''

You could have passed out at that point.

— lady l: and the news came out that the world didn't believe!! I'm really sorry for the delay of the chapter! I had it ready for weeks but I couldn't post it because of my computer and because of other projects, however, I'll try to update this fanfic weekly! I promise to try :). I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

#bridgerton #the bridgertons #yandere bridgerton #yandere the bridgertons #the bloody viscount #yandere anthony bridgerton x reader #yandere anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #long fic #fanfic

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everythingne · 7 months

Text

looking in a mirror - click ! take a pic ! (op81)

rhys, daisy, and co's socials leading up to the announcement of them joining f1.

(series masterlist)

fcs: // archie madekwe (rhys) / ruby campbell (y/n / daisy)

oscar piastri x reader series

warnings/notes: no warnings for this other than mentions of a breakup, just something quick to try and get me out of this writing slump i've been in >:0!!!

msdaisypearce

🎶 wildflowers - tom petty

liked by oscarpiastri, rhyspearce, hanavettel and 238k others...

msdaisypearce: local german man forces british teen to save the bees ?? again ??

tagged: sebvettel

sebvettel: you literally asked to come with me.

⤷ msdaisypearce: have you ever considered i went with u for @ hannavettel?

⤷ hannavettel: awe!! love you lots dais!!!

⤷ sebvettel: sei nicht so gemein

⤷ msdaisypearce: cant hear u over ur wifes cooking !!

user1: shes basically daisy vettel atp

rhyspearce: girl fucks off to germany and doesn't say anything

user2: SEB NATION WAKE UP DAISY HAS BLESSED US!!!

rhyspearce

📍 the dream life

liked by charlesleclerc, sebvettel, mwebber, and 278k others...

rhyspearce: snippets of life this month...

tagged: hannavettel, msdaisypearce, and two others..

msdaisypearce: casually leaves out him nearly breaking my nose

⤷ sebvettel: ur being dramatic

⤷ rhyspearce: omg ur teaching him abbreviations?

user1: UR SO HOT PLS OH MY GOD

user2: another day another rhys thirst trap to add to the collection

charlesleclerc: maman requests ur visit soon

⤷ rhyspearce: funnily enough im coming back from porsche in stuttgart tn...

user3: PORSCHE HQ???

msdaisypearce posted a story!

sebvettel posted a story!

msdaisypearce

🎶 history of man - maisie peters

liked by rhyspearce, oscarpiastri, sebvettel, and 245k others...

msdaisypeace: 'just a heart broke bitch, high heels, six inch In the back of the nightclub, sippin' champagne' (caption doesnt match the song, post doesn't match the way im feeling. a kind reminder everything u see on socials are hand picked for ur viewing.)

hanavettel: lots of very exciting things coming up in ur life, sending love from home

user1: SHE BROKE UP W HER BOYF??

⤷ user2: tbf she hasn't posted him since the end of last season

sebvettel: my offer still stands, you know. much love.

⤷ msdaisypearce: get off insta and check my texts >:(

user3: is this why she's been with the vettels all week while her brother went back to monaco??

rhyspearce: love u love u love u

oscarpiastri: logan is pacing just so u know

⤷ alexalbon: PACING.

⤷ msdaisypearce: aweee my f2 boyss!!! 🩷 i will call u tmrw

⤷ logansargeant: we're both awake now call me now tf.

rhyspearce posted a new story!

msdaisypearce and rhyspearce

liked by lewishamilton, mwebber, oscarpiastri, and 456k others...

msdaisypearce: something new on the horizons. thank u to @ f1 and @ porsche.motorsport for trusting us. thank u to @ sebvettel for working ur magic as per usual. thank u to all the f1 drivers for welcoming us in. see u all in 2025 !!

comments have been disabled for this post!

porsche.motorsport

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, carlossainz, and 459k others...

porsche.motorsport: welcoming both of the pearce siblings to join our team for 2025!

Rhys has been a reserve for Ferrari these past two seasons while racing in both Formula E for Porsche and Formula 2 for Prema. He has been racing since 2006, and racing in FIA sports since 2014.

Y/N, or Daisy, has been racing with F1 ACADEMY since its maiden season in 2023 and was the first ever F1 ACADEMY Champion. She had been racing since 2009, and racing in FIA sports since 2017.

tagged: rhyspearce, msdaisypearce

comments have been disabled for this post!

#f1 fanfic #f1 smau #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #formula one fic #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 1 year

Text

Betrayal

Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Author’s note: this hyperfixation is reaching ridiculous proportions, but hey I’m not complaining, enjoy another fic!

Synopsis: set during the end of season 4, Sam’s desperation for demon blood is making him do things he wouldn’t normally do

Warnings: Sam being an absolute jerk (with a bit of redemption) reader is slightly injured, Sam hurts the reader, this one’s a bit dark.

It had been three days. Three days of Sam stuck in that demon-proof room, screaming like every demon in hell and on earth was in there with him.

Dean wouldn’t let you go down to see him, but that didn’t keep you from hearing the screams from upstairs. You were tired, and scared. You just wanted to let Sam out, but you understood why he had to stay there.

Despite this, you couldn’t sleep. Every second Sam was screaming, it was torture for you, but somehow the silence was even worse.

Dean was keeping you close these days, maybe in his mind it was to make up for how he hadn’t watched Sam close enough. So there you were, on Bobby’s couch, in Dean’s arms, when Sam escaped, and you saw him creeping around outside the window.

You didn’t know why you didn’t wake Dean, for some reason the thought just didn’t cross your mind. You saw Sam, and your only instinct was to run to him.

That was a mistake.

You decided to go around the far side of Bobby’s yard so that Sam wouldn’t see you coming, which is why when you got to him, you saw that Bobby had beaten you to him. You watched as Sam knocked him out with his own gun, and you knew that you couldn’t get through to him, not yet anyways. So you did the only thing you could think of.

You snuck into Sam’s trunk, and let him drive away with you.

…

You waited for Sam to get into the hotel before getting out of the trunk. You were just about to walk into the lobby when it happened. Black smoke flitted in front of your eyes before forcing itself down your throat. You nearly gagged on it, before you felt another mind enter yours. A more dominant one. It took control of your body, forcing you up the stairs and to Sam’s room. You could only watch as it knocked on Sam’s door, and you saw Sam’s look of surprise when he opened it. The demon walked you into Sam’s room, and it didn’t hesitate. It jumped at him instantly, taking your knife from your belt and going for Sam’s throat. Sam dodged, and tried to use his powers to get the demon out of you, but to no avail; he was too weak.

He changed his tactic, and instead of trying to exorcise the demon, he used his power to fling you into the wall. You felt your body jolt, and then you heard a horrible crunch, before everything went dark.

…

You awoke tied to a chair, a demon’s trap drawn under you. Sam was sitting in front of you, his eyes trained on your face.

“Well hello, Sammy,” the demon said.

“Exor-“ Sam didn’t even get the first word out before the demon cut him off with a laugh.

“Oh, you don’t wanna do that. At least not yet.”

Sam glared at you.

“And why wouldn’t I?”

“Because I have something you want. Something you need.”

Sam scoffed, “Oh yeah, like what?”

You felt the corners of your mouth tilt up in an awful grin.

“Blood.”

Sam swallowed hard, and you could see in his eyes that he had already thought about this.

“C’mon Sammy, you know you need it. Ruby isn’t coming, she hasn’t answered your calls in weeks. You need my blood.”

Sam licked his lips before glancing away.

“I know how much you’re hurting. Trust me, I can help you.” The demon twisted your hand, and you noticed a cut on your finger that you must’ve gotten when you were thrown across the room. A drop of your blood dripped to the floor, and Sam visibly flinched.

“Go ahead. Take it.”

Sam moved so quickly that even if you had been in control, you wouldn’t have had time to cry out.

He lunged forwards, grabbing your small hand in both of his, and began sucking the blood out of the small cut on your finger.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds before it became obvious that it wasn’t enough; the cut wasn’t big enough, and the little taste that Sam had gotten had only increased his craving. He reached down to pick up his knife when it happened.

You felt the demon retreat inside you. It didn’t leave, but it relinquished control, allowing you to speak and move.

You struggled against the ropes, and Sam hesitated, sensing the change in you.

“Sammy, Sam stop please!”

He looked up at you.

“Y/N?”

You whimpered, “It’s me, it’s me the demon’s letting me talk, don’t do this please! Please Sammy, you can stop this.”

Sam’s eyes welled up, but he didn’t put down his knife.

“I…the demon is…” Sam was unable to look at your face, too intent on the knife, and what he was trying not to do.

“Sammy it’s me, just get the demon out, exorcise it, please!” You cried as Sam gave up, lifting the knife to your arm.

“I will, I will baby I promise. I just…I need this first.”

Sam grabbed your arm to hold you still, slicing a cut a few inches long into your forearm.

You cried out in pain, but it only got worse as Sam leaned down and began to drink the demon’s blood out of your cut.

You jerked your arm back, trying desperately to escape your big brother’s grasp, but to no avail.

“Sam, Sam stop it! Sam, you’re hurting me!”

Sam wasn’t Sam anymore. Not right now. Now, he was so hooked on demon’s blood that he couldn’t live without it, he needed a fix and he couldn’t stop.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself as your big brother sucked the blood out of your body through a cut that he had made.

You were just starting to feel dizzy, your vision slightly blurry, when Sam finally pulled away.

As he did, blood dripping down his chin, you could see it. The pure, unadulterated disgust in his face. In that moment, you had no doubt that your brother absolutely hated himself.

That moment only lasted for a second, before Dean swung the vase against Sam’s head, and he collapsed in a heap in front of you.

…

By the time Sam came to, Dean had exorcised the demon out of you, and you were sitting on one of the beds, unable to take your eyes off your unconscious brother.

As Sam stirred, Dean stayed in the back corner of the room, desperate to talk to Sam but sensing that you needed to talk to him first after what happened.

When Sam lifted his head and looked at you, you flinched, making Dean wince.

Sam jumped up immediately, heading right for you. You misunderstood his eagerness, and you scrambled away from him, a whimper escaping your lips.

“It’s-it’s gone Sam…the demon was exorcised, I don’t have the blood anymore, I swear, I swear, please.”

Sam froze. You had backed up all the way to the bed frame, and your whole body was shaking as you held your injured arm against your chest, as if protecting it from him.

“I-I wasn’t-“ Sam reached for you, but flinched back when you cried out and tried to get further away from him.

“It’s not in me, it’s not in me Sammy I promise!”

Sam’s lip was quivering, and he found that he couldn’t even look at you. He dropped his gaze, swallowing hard.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I swear, baby I’m so sorry,” Sam forced himself to meet your petrified gaze. “I’m so sorry, I won’t hurt you, I won’t.”

You ducked your head, hugging your injured arm even tighter to your chest.

“You already did.”

Sam suddenly felt desperate to explain, even though he should have known it was unexplainable.

“It wasn’t you, I didn’t want to hurt you, I just needed the demon-“

“The demon was in me!” You jerked your head up, and Sam nearly flinched when he saw not anger, but fear in your eyes. “It was in me, and you could’ve gotten it out. You could’ve helped me, but you didn’t. You made it worse.”

Sam stepped forwards, “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. Let me help, let me try to-“

You were shaking your head, curling in on yourself and holding your hurt arm in a vice grip.

“Stop, stop it, get away! Go away!”

Dean finally stepped in, grabbing Sam by the shoulder and pulling him back.

“Sam, don’t. She’s scared, and you’re not helping.” Dean brushed past his brother and came to you, gently taking your hurt arm in his hand.

“It’s ok, baby. He won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“He already did,” you sobbed, holding onto Dean’s arms.

Dean reached up and brushed the hair away from your face.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. I won’t let it happen ever again, I’m right here. He can’t hurt you.”

Can’t. Not won’t. Can’t.

Sam felt his chest constrict, his breathing quicken. Dean wasn’t reassuring you of Sam’s goodness, he was promising protection. Protection from him.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam didn’t bother trying to get close to you again. “Please, let me help. That cut is-“ Sam swallowed past the lump in his throat, “that cut is pretty deep. Let me stitch it up.”

Sam held his breath as he awaited your response. You never let Dean stitch you up, he had as you called it, “butcher hands”. It was always Sam patching you up, always.

“No. Dean,” you whimpered, holding out your arm to the eldest Winchester.

Sam watched as Dean stitched your arm, his instincts screaming at him to comfort you every time your breathing hitched, or you flinched. Every time you did something that alerted both brothers that you were hurting. He fought his instincts though, knowing that he would only scare you, only make things worse.

When night fell, Sam slept on the couch so you and Dean could have the beds. It wasn’t much, but he was trying to do any little thing he could think of to be nicer to you. It was all he could do to keep from running to you and holding you close, apologizing until you promised to forgive him.

He had never felt more like a monster in his life. He had never felt more disgusted with himself.

Sam lay awake long after you and Dean went to sleep. That was why, when you started to call out, he was at your side long before Dean even woke up.

He would’ve stayed away, afraid of scaring you, if it wasn’t for what you were calling out.

“Sam…Sammy!”

By the time he reached you, you were thrashing around, and when he managed to pin you down he saw that your stitches had ripped, and your arm was bleeding again.

“Y/N, honey calm down, calm down!”

He hadn’t even noticed that your eyes were closed until they snapped open. As soon as you saw Sam, you scrambled away from him, and he jumped in surprise when you started to scream.

“No, no, get away! Leave me alone!”

If you hadn’t broken open your stitches, Sam would’ve listened to you. But as it was, he didn’t want you to hurt yourself, so he held onto your injured arm, keeping you from moving around but making sure to be gentle.

Not that it mattered. The pure terror on your face made it clear that as long as Sam was close, you wouldn’t be calm. You were crying now, which he supposed was better than screaming, until you started trying to kick him away from you.

“Y/N please, please calm down you’re ok, I’m just-“

Sam felt himself being jerked away from you, and he grunted when he landed hard on the floor.

“Stay away from her, Sam! Can’t you see she’s terrified?”

“She’s bleeding, Dean!” Sam was too worried about you to bother arguing with Dean, not that he really disagreed with him.

Dean grabbed onto your shoulders, trying to keep you still while he assessed you for injuries. When you saw it was Dean in front of you and not Sam, it didn’t take long for you to calm down. Dean carefully held your arm as blood dripped onto the sheets, before he turned his eyes to Sam.

“Sam. What did you do?”

Sam flinched, “I didn’t do that! She was already bleeding Dean! I only came over here because she was calling out for me, yelling my name.”

Dean shook his head, “She was terrified of you, she wouldn’t-“

“Dean it’s ok,” you reached up and grabbed at Dean’s arms. “It’s ok, I was having a nightmare. I think he’s right, I ripped the stitches in my sleep.”

Sam slowly got to his feet and looked down at you.

“You…you weren’t calling for me. You were…” Sam swallowed and averted his gaze from you. You didn’t want his help. You were having a nightmare about him hurting you.

Dean sighed, “I’m gonna have to stitch this back up before you go back to sleep.”

Neither Winchester boy missed the quiet whimper that escaped you. This night had been hard enough as is, and you hated stitches.

“Hey…” Sam took half a step closer to your bed, going as slow as possible. “Baby, please let me help you. It’s…” he scoffed, “it’s literally the least I can do. Please, let me stitch you up.”

“Sam, just let her-“

“Ok,” Dean stopped when he heard your quiet voice.

“Ok?”

You nodded, “O-ok. You can do it.”

Dean hesitantly stood to let Sam take his place at your side, but you gripped his arm.

“Don’t-don’t go.”

Dean nodded his head, carefully seating himself next to you on the bed so that Sam would have room to work.

Sam was hyper focused as he lifted the needle and began to work. He didn’t want any false moves, any missteps. He wanted to make this as painless as possible for you.

Dean held onto your hand the whole time, his eyes fixed on Sam. It was making Sam nervous, but he wasn’t about to comment on it.

About halfway through, Sam started to lean down so that he could get a closer look, trying to make sure his stitches were straight.

When you saw Sam’s face leaning towards your arm, you flinched violently and let out a frightened yelp. Sam leaned back instantly, and Dean squeezed your hand.

“You alright? I can finish if you want me to.”

You shook your head at Dean’s offer.

“I’m ok.”

Sam finished the stitches, making sure to keep his head as far away from your arm as possible as he worked. He stared at you for a long moment after he had finished, something nagging at his brain.

You and him had this…this stupid little tradition. It had started when you were four years old, and you had dropped a glass at a diner, slicing open your calf. Sam had carried you back to the motel room and stitched you up, and you had still been crying.

“It hurts, Sammy,” you whimpered.

“It’s ok, I know how to make it better,” Sam leaned down and pecked his lips against the stitches, and you giggled through your tears.

The tradition had stuck around, and every time he finished tying up your stitches, he always kissed the wound, and every time you laughed.

It was stupid, and you were probably too old for it, but…but Sam didn’t care.

You met his gaze, and seemed to read his mind. He could see the fear in your eyes, the hesitancy, and he was about to pull away when he felt your arm moving. He looked down and saw that you were lifting your arm a little closer to his face. An invitation.

Dean tensed when Sam began to lean towards your arm, but he stayed silent when he noticed that you didn’t stop him.

Sam made sure to move slowly, not wanting to scare you. He gently kissed the cut on your arm, and pulled back just slightly to look at you. You weren’t exactly up for a laugh, but he did manage to get a little half-smile.

That was plenty good enough for him.

“You ready to go back to sleep?” Dean asked, interrupting the moment.

You nodded, and Sam didn’t miss the way that you gripped onto Dean’s arm. Apparently Dean didn’t miss it either.

“How about I sleep with you here, and we let Sam have the other bed, ok?”

You tried to hide your relieved smile and failed miserably.

“Yeah ok.”

Sam pulled away from you and went to the empty bed, trying not to be hurt by the fact that you were so scared, you wanted Dean near you. It wasn’t your fault, it was his own. And at least you had let him stitch you up.

He knew he was nowhere near your good graces, and he was most certainly a million miles from Dean’s, but he also knew now that you didn’t hate him.

That would have to be good enough for now. At least until he could make it up to you.

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penvisions · 3 months

Text

gone to the dogs {chapter 4}

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Reader ; brief mentions of Boston QZ! Joel Miller x Tess Servopoulos

Summary: Unexpected glimpses of your past allow for your softer side to be exposed. But it won't be the thing that alters the dynamic between your trio. No, you have something else planned for that.

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, outbreak fic, age gap (only by about ten years), angst, dark fic, dark joel miller, mean joel miller, joel miller is uptight, degrading language, sexual language, sexual proposition, violence, heated interactions, descriptions of a minor assault, adult language, fighting, argumentative language, mutual disdain, sexual content, implication of sex work, unprotected piv, sexual acts, reader is snarky, reader gets violent, major injuries, dismemberment, reader meets joel toe-to-toe with insults and it's amazing, both reader and joel pov, lemme know if there are any i missed!

A/N: ARE Y'ALL READY, but seriously, i hope y'all enjoy this chapter *minor spoiler but reader's singing voice is very much akin to ruby leigh from the voice contestant show

ao3 link || series masterlist || joel miller masterlist || ko-fi

It’s early morning, when Tess seeks you out. The sun barely coming up and showing its form over the horizon, the sky swathed in deep oranges and golden tones that remind you of seasonal fruit.

Frank is sitting with you already, coffee brewed fresh and sweetened with frozen ice cubes of coffee creamer and sugar. A surprise you hadn’t anticipated but greatly appreciated as the man beside you refilled your cup time after time to ensure it was never truly empty. Conversation had been light, on the back porch where you had curled up in the wicker loveseat to try and get the weight off of your body for a few hours.

As soon as she shuffled through the door, Frank removed his hand from where it was tangled with your own and said he would get started on breakfast. Wanting to ensure you, all three of you, had a full stomach for the journey back to the zone. His way of taking care of you where you’ll let him, even now in the end of the world.

“Look, I know it may seem like I was playing some game yesterday…” The older woman breaks the silence, knowing your mind must be turning and overturning the events of the last few days.

“Just wanted to know I was meant to be playing along.” She’s not cautious, but there’s a tiredness and stilted manner to her sitting down in one of the matching wicker chairs. The cushion and pillow in the seat do little to comfort the unease you can see in her body. It’s as if she hasn’t slept, or that her sleep was restless just like your own despite the safe environment and almost now foreign amenities.

“I was being genuine with them, Frank…he’s reminded me of who I used to be. As I’m sure he has with you, especially sharing a past I’m not going to ask after. It’s your business and that’s your prerogative.”

“Sent your guard dog after me to listen into my conversation with him, not sure I really believe the sentiment.”

“Cane, you know as well as I do that he does what he wants.”

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that he reports back to you. Acts as if you two are the ones who run things. Conversations I’m not a part of.”

“We all run things, the three of us.” You’re glad for her roundabout honesty, though you know that it’s natural for rifts to divide people, for them to seek out those they are more comfortable with. That talking with someone you feel bonded with, a partner, a friends, is a part of life. That they both must have conversations going over things just as you do with her, though not as frequently.

“Yeah, looks like it from the outside, doesn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you two have gotten very comfortable with the way things are in the zone-“

“No more comfortable than you made yourself in my bed the other night.” Her eyes meet your own in a silent challenge, will you lie and cover up the fact you shared Joel’s bed, or will you be honest with the woman who does so on a regular basis. You don’t know Joel as well as she does, but he doesn’t strike you as the type to seek out attention or affection from other’s behind someone’s back. A cheater, he is not, though he has done many questionable things to survive. She doesn’t seem upset, at least outwardly, though you know it must strike a cord near her heart. The way you catch her gazing at him sometimes tells you more of her feelings than she ever has. And for that, you cannot fathom lying.

“That was a lapse of judgement. It had been a shitty day trying to move what little product I had. He didn’t fuck me if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I don’t care if he did, that’s his prerogative. I don’t own him, I don’t control him-“

“Wouldn’t matter if you did, he needs to feel like he’s got someone to look out for and you’re it. He would do anything for you, does do anything that you ask of him now. It’s me he has a problem with and I’m not entirely sure why he laid with me the way he did.” You try to soothe her as best you can, as best as you’re able to in the situation. She must know what she means to him, or at least what he’s able to with the damage and destruction he’s surely endured.

“He doesn’t have a problem with you-“

“Save it, I know he does. I know you do too, blatantly throwing us under the bus to make us seem like untrained dogs who only snap and bite at those that near us.”

“That was more for him, than for you.”

“And yet you still said it the way you did. It wasn’t appreciated.”

“I didn’t intend for it to hurt your feelings, I apologize if it did. I really am…appreciative of the way you’ve allowed us both to fold into your zone.” It’s obvious, the appeal she’s trying to make to you now. The same woman who had been at the table yesterday. A glimpse of who she used to be, but it bothers you how you can’t tell if she’s genuine or not, if it’s the same play you had been orchestrating with her the past couple of months.

“You came into my home to try and get intel on me before usurping me. Of course you’re grateful I folded you into the scene. You wouldn’t have had anything otherwise.”

“Not nothing, no. But I do realize it would’ve been less if you were getting a portion of the cut of everything we got on both sides.”

You only hummed in response. Aware that this conversation was taking turns you’d rather not delve into at the moment.

“We’ve all gotten comfortable, me included, you’ve given me the room to do so. But I talked to Frankie, he’s willing to convince Bill to agree to it. You’ll lead this one, you did find it after all and there’s no reason for my knowing him to effect that.” You don’t have to fear for someone lunging at you in the dark, for someone using a trade as a rouse to lure you alone to take advantage. Her intelligence and Joel’s strength have allowed you breathing room in the months of constant worry after your brother’s death.

“Joel will need to really be on his best behavior. He’s got his teeth bared because Bill does.”

“Then reign him in.” You meet her eyes, the worry you house at the rise of conflict that is all too real aimed her way but ever present in the way you didn’t have to say anything else. She nods once as you lifted your mug up and took a sip of the wonderful coffee Frank had been kind enough to keep full. “Mind him and lead by example. I will as well.”

“He doesn’t think poorly of you, if he did, he wouldn’t be insistent on joining you beyond the walls.” It’s hard to know how to respond, it’s almost default to fling insults with the older man, to taunt him and see if he rises to the bait, something he does in return. But despite it all, you would defend him should he truly need it and you only hoped he would do the same. You doubt he would die for you, but that was such a rare devotion these days.

“I suppose not, but…should anything happen he will still work with you. He…Joel is someone who needs someone by his side whether he wants to admit it or not. Like you said. And you would be good for him, protect him as he protects you. It’s…good you were willing to work with us.” It’s implied, the connection you both have with the man even if it feels different, looks different. The way she wishes for you to recall that should something happen to her. Infection, sickness, a trade gone wrong, a trigger-happy soldier, anything. She wants to ensure he won’t be alone.

“I swear to you, should something happen, I won’t throw him to the crowd waiting to tear him apart.”

“Thank you.”

“Tess, just- I have a feeling the scene is going to get worse before it stabilizes again. The cartons of cigarettes Frank is going to give us will help but, other things are bound to dry up.”

She’s quiet for a beat, taking in the way you reach for your mug. She’s watching you as much as you’re watching her. It’s not a stalemate, it never is between you two. She knows your penchant for comments on how things are going, the ways your mind works and overworks. Concerned about details and the intricacies of things whereas she’s focused on the entire scene or play. It’s a match, which allows for all things to be considered, working well with each other in the past year. She has to be aware of that, at least, even as tensions rise and perspectives are beginning to warp and shift.

“Cane, this- opportunity to do trade with an outside source, it could help prevent scavenges into the decaying city. You know as well as I do that things are getting harder and harder to find as time goes on. Hell, it’s already beginning to thin.”

“It is…” You agree solemnly.

It’s when you’re in the shower again, before you change into the clothes you had showed up in, that Joel seeks you out. Now washed and dried, folded atop the counter waiting for you. The door opens and closes without the call of a voice but you can hear the distinct steps of Joel as he stand in the middle of the bathroom. Hear the way he’s breathing a little harder than normal. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when you hear the hush of fabric and see the outline of him through the plastic shower curtain move to pick up the dress you had been wearing.

“Dress was nice.” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that washes over your skin much like the shower, though goosebumps sprout up despite the heat of the water.

“I’m not in the mood for games, Miller.” Sighing, you reach for the shampoo, the scent of sandalwood and amber wafting in the steam that fills the room.

“I’m bein’ serious. Looked good on you. Different.” The effect his words on you, his attempt at an actual conversation is one of heat blooming in your middle. He’s so goddamn handsome and it’s a shame he’s such an asshole, molded by the circumstances of the fallen world. He seems to take your words in stride, his mood nothing but calm as the shower continues to rain down on you.

“Everything seems to be different these days.”

“Can be a good thing, sometimes.”

“Can be.” You watch through the clear curtain, dappled with beaded water. He’s shrugging out of his dark green button up. The fabric hushing as it reveals his skin to you for the second time. His chest is dusted with dark hairs, the silver threading through it catching the sunlight filtering into the bathroom.

“Don’t mind, do you?” The clink of his belt and the unzipping of his pants.

“Not particularly, no.” He’s already stepping into the stall, his broad body taking up what little room was left and crowded the space. But it doesn’t feel like he’s cornering you, it feels almost…intimate in the way that his eyes are taking in the form of your body slick from the water and foamed up bubbles trailing down where they drip from your hair. “Just didn’t think you’d be the one to seek me out next.”

Tangling his fingers into your hair, he dips your head back to wash the shampoo from the long tresses.

“There was no need for me to be so…biting last night. I don’t know how to do the whole- talking thing these days. And you have to admit, we don’t do much of that with each other already.”

“They’ll work with us, Frankie is a good man.” You reach for the shampoo again, reaching up with the thick liquid cupped in your hand to lather it into his bowed head. His hair is as soft as you always thought it was, thick curls dark with the weight of the water saturating it.

“Sharing a past with him helps, otherwise it would be a tense and slow start.” His hands are anchored on your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you don’t dare to look down where you feel him soft against your thigh. The admittance of presence helping isn’t lost on you. He’s not one for praise and it’s intense with how close you are in the stall. You hear the apology for his previous words on the matter in his new ones. Though you are unsure if he believes them, you feel the need to but it is hard to tell as his skin touches yours and ignites your blood. “Tess may have set this whole thing up and he may have convinced Bill for the trades, but you are an asset.”

You hold your tongue, the question of ‘an asset or the orchestrator’ drowning from your mind as he noses along your collarbone, ducking his head further to allow you to wash the suds from his curls. As soon as he looks back up, you’re reaching to brush the water from his eyes, his brows, his scruff, watching the way it sticks to his silver threaded hairs and the memory of it against your skin makes pleasure and desire pool in your core.

His hands are turning your willing body around, and he’s firm where he bumps against the back of your thighs, the plush of your ass as you face the wall. And now you feel crowded, as he presses his front to your back, the way he hinges your hips to meet him, for the way he slips into you in one smooth motion for the first time.

But it’s not a bad feeling, it’s comforting being shielded from the rest of the world in this little stall, his body hiding you away and comforting you all at once. It’s a dangerous thought, even as it’s punched out with your heavy breath carrying a moan as he begins to thrust against you. Heat overtakes your senses, from the pleasure rippling through you to the flushed skin pressed to you to the still running stream of the shower. It consumes you even after you peak, after you feel Joel’s own sear into the backs of your thighs, panting breath matched by him as the moment winds down.

“You didn’t tell him your brother wasn’t alive. Just told him you found him.” He breathes into your shoulder, facial hair brushing over your skin to send tingles down your spine. It’s quiet, the way he seeks an answer instead of demands one.

“He doesn’t need to know.” Is your own whispered response, unable to rise to his words with a truth of your own, a vulnerability.

“Thought he was your friend.”

“He is, but he’s…he doesn’t need to know how things really are. He wouldn’t have let me leave.”

“You say that like he has control over you.” His hands are no longer gripping tight, caressing instead along your sides, feeling the dips and valleys of your body with no intention other than to touch. The urge to return the softness twitches your fingers where they are still planted along the wall for support.

“He doesn’t. But if he asked, I would listen. Because I respect him. Mutual respect.”

He parrots the sentiment back to you, as his large hands grip your waist once again to turn you around face to face. There’s something glinting in his eyes, behind the dark brown of them slowly. “An interesting thought.”

“It is.” You nudge your nose against his, breathing him in, the scent of you both mingling in the air.

And he’s suddenly slotting his mouth against yours, droplets raining down over you both as you surge up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, returning his kiss with earnest. It’s so different from what yo expected kissing him would be life, it’s not rough or biting, it’s almost heartachingly soft in how he pulls you close and touches his lips to yours again and again.

“He’s just so hard to read sometimes, you know? Like…I don’t mean to get too personal considering we just met but,” Tess’s voice carries from a room downstairs, the one you had been given the night before, the one you hadn’t been able to lay in and remain for the entirety of it. She had ducked into it with Frank after breakfast shared at the dining room table. While the eggs had been powdered, the meet hadn’t been and the taste lingers, mingled with that of Joel.

“You can talk to me about anything, the same sentiment for Cane applies to you. We all need friends these days, people we can turn to.” Frank’s comforting voice is genuine as you step closer to the open door without trying to alert them of your presence. Tess hardly opened up about herself, let along about the dynamic between her and Joel. All you ever got out of Tommy was that they were bonded in a way that he understood, shared losses, shared pasts. They would and have killed for each other.

“Well, I’m not quite sure what’s going on, relationships were hard enough before and now…”

“It’s hard for men like Bill and Joel to be honest with what they want, to let their guard down in different settings. You shouldn’t fault yourself if he was too on edge to be with you last night.”

“It’s not that exactly. It was more like he implied he was done with that entire part of…whatever we are.”

“Maybe he’s going through something he hasn’t told you about. He seems like a pretty private guy even if he does have someone like you to talk to and in his life.” Mind reeling, you recall the way Joel had spoken to you the other night. The implication of his words, of his wants, of who exactly he had his eyes on. And then this morning when he had all but rolled over to show you his willingness to give you credit and praise your work.

‘Don’t want Tess.’

‘Mutual relief.’

‘Then clear my head, be a good little lap dog for me.’

Your blood boils, bubbles thick in your veins despite the rather calm and sensual acts you had just shared with the man in question. The worry of him moving on from the woman at his side to yours, where there is more opportunity, more to be gained, more power to be had with the smuggling scene. It’s hard to read him, whether he is truly making a play, a switch. The idea that he is losing interest in Tess in favor or you too big a notion for there to not be anything else woven into the desire. Men tended to seek out those younger than them, though you didn’t think that was the only matter in this case. The thought sticks to the inside of your throat like fuzz, drying it up and making you clear your throat loudly as you approach the doorway head on. You’re determined to undermine it, should that be the reasoning behind his recent behavior.

“Frankie?” You finally step toward the doorway, brushing your hands down over the clean shirt to try and calm your nerves.

“Yes, darling?”

“Could I use your radio, there’s a call I need to make. To set up a smooth return to the zone for us.” You nod to Tess, who doesn’t meet your eyes. As Frank stands from where he was seated on the bed, he brushes a hand over your shoulder. He’s reaching for another box from the top of the closet, the shelf too high for you but easy enough for him. The box is labeled with your name, the real one and he takes a marker from his back pocket and crosses it out. Cane replaces it in that same, simple writing he’s adapted.

“Of course, I’m looking for something, but Bill can help you out.” Frank smiles at you, saying he’ll make sure to send an outfit back with all three of you, worried for the very real act of both Joel and Tess scrounging for their nicest pieces of clothing for the visit. First impressions still meant so much and sometimes it meant the difference between life and death these days. He was a good man, and you’re determined to ensure you can continue to find things he may need use of and build up your stocks should you need to trade for something far more valuable and harder to come by. He was a priority now.

One thing was for certain, you were done allowing Joel Miller to think he had more power than he did.

An asset.

It rings through your mind as you recall the way he approached you in the shower. In the touches burned into your skin, in the way his body moved against your own. He had been there, with you, after telling Tess no. That he didn’t want for the physical any longer with her and it’s dizzying. Trepidation simmers low in your abdomen, upsetting it as it twists the muscles and pulls them taut before they tremble. Akin to the pang of hunger but much, much stronger.

It was your zone, your connections, your reputation that allowed for the smuggling and scavenging to bloom opportunity and trade. You had worked up from literally nothing, having been forced into the zone under false pretenses. The network established by you and your brother after some time, scooped up by the jaws of another hungry dog searching for the next meal to feast on. Only this one wasn’t a simple meal that would fill your belly for a night, it was one that would bring meals day after day and you were done sharing it. Done feeling like an afterthought to the man who was Tess’s counterpart.

The radio is far more advanced than the one set up in the zone, the one that Abe was lucky enough to set up outdated and one of the more military focused models. The soldiers knew he had it, it was hard no to squash the thin string of hope it allowed for all the occupants to stoke as they tried to search for loved ones and family even so long after that first horrific day and all the others that followed.

Bill walked you through how to navigate the signal waves, how to tune it just right to get the ones wafting weakly from direction of the zone. He was still on guard, the gun holstered at his side and his gauging eyes still present. But you felt at ease with him, he was an extension of Frank. He was a good man, that much you were sure of, that much you knew. Frank would be well protected and provided for here, allowed a space to cling to the good parts of who he is. He wouldn’t have lasted in the zone, let alone the pretenses in which you had found yourself able to enter the zone.

“Echo 4236, do you copy?”

“Copy for Echo 4236. Rely your message.”

“This is Ammo 1342, I have an order for you.”

“Ready to receive order, proceed.”

“I need you to hit Building 42, Apartment 19 and 20.”

“Ammo 1342, isn’t apartment 20-“

“It is, proceed. Stash the contents in Building 56, Apartment 14.”

“Copy that Ammo 1342.”

“Echo 4236 signing off.”

Bill is watching you closely, one brow arched as he takes in the smirk on your lips.

“Working together means you guys contact Tess, heed her wills to trade.”

“So, you’re allowing them to think this is still the fruits of her labor.”

“For now. When the time comes, I’ll cut them out and let them be in charge of this trade and only this trade.”

"Just be careful." The sentiment behind his words is not lost on you.

“Before you go,” Frank is guiding you by the shoulders toward the front room the second you visible coming up from the steps of the sub-basement. Bill following behind at a slower pace, content to let Frank do as he wished, the barely contained excitement and sly smile on his lips telling the other man he was happy. The piano comes into view, set up already, dusted off and smelling of lemon oil cleaner.

“Frankie, no.” You don’t even give the man a chance to say anything, the book of sheet music open and waiting.

“Cane, please. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it done justice. Bill does his best, but…too low a tone for the song. This’ll be the last thing I ask of you to recall from our past and if you truly don’t want to, I’ll concede.” As he speaks, the others are walking into the room. Bill, followed by a curious Tess and tense Joel. The word ‘no’ in your voice summoning him where he had been on the back porch with Tess talking over the most likely items to get on the list Frank had written up.

You looked from the piano to him, trepidation obvious, as if the piano were a coiled snake waiting for you to step closer to strike you down. But he looked so soft, so much like the man you remember sitting and painting with for hours in a comfortable silence, the one who had always allowed you the room to create how you wanted.

“Just this once.”

The wooden seat is firm beneath you, and you roll your shoulders a few times, cracking your knuckles to loosen your body up. Taking a deep breath, you glance up from where your hands are hovering over the keys to the music written out. You don’t need it, of course, it was Frank’s favorite song. One you had sung to him at every opening hour of a show in the gallery. The first few pushes of the keys feel unfamiliar, but muscle memory takes over quickly and you’re licking at your bottom lip before parting them.

“Love will abide, take things in stride,” Your voice is smooth and soft, growing emotive and soulful, as it fills the silence of the room and intertwines with the notes of the piano. A hint of twang in your tone as the lyrics pull it from deep inside you, where you buried it long ago. You close your eyes, feeling the sting of tears as the last seven years flash in your mind.

“Sounds like good advice,” You belt out, pitching your voice around the words, allowing for them to surge and swell. “But there’s no one at my side. Cause I’ve done everything I know to try and make you mine. And I think I’m gonna love you for a long, long time.”

You don’t dare to turn around and glimpse the expressions on everyone’s faces, the song filling you up with something you had long forgotten. Your voice carries through the second verse, the third, and then the last cords of the song are echoing in the air as you lift your fingers from the keys. The final note wavering off and silence reclaims the room.

It’s the last thing before you all make your way outside, the sun bright and the breeze cool. Bill is walking alongside Joel, Tess up ahead with Frank. You linger, eyeing the canvas and paint accumulated in boxes around the porch. An agreement made between to the two men who reside here. One giving into the other’s indulgences in only the way a loved one does for their affections.

Rationale and reason for keeping such things for better uses, a means of survival should it come to that lost in the wake of making someone happy.

“Cane, I’m- I’m just so glad that you’re okay.” Frank is suddenly pulling you into an embrace, his hands cradling the back of your head as you instantly return it. His chest is warm where you bury your face into his shirt, just feeling him for a moment, basking in the touch of another you once spent so much time with. “Please, don’t be a stranger. I may not be able to come to you, but you come to me or radio should you need anything.”

“I’m happy you’ve found your person, found a little slice of what life used to be here. The zones, they aren’t, they aren’t a way to live.” As you pull back from him, you see the question in the depths of his eyes, obviously in the way he smiles sadly at you. He wants to ask you to stay and you almost want him to.

Your trio departs with a plan to contact in a week’s time, to set up the first trade of many.

It was obvious that your order had been followed through the second your trio had entered turned from the stairwell to the hallway. The doors leading into both yours and their apartment hang on their hinges, the wood splintered slightly as they wight down the remaining nails keeping them upright.

The second story just high enough to not give any clues away from the view of the windows on the streets. You had made sure to not include your signature of a paw print, not wanting to stir up trouble before felt the need to. The same one you had Tess and Joel stamp onto their portions of goods, always beneath the foil for cigarettes or the plastic bags of pills. Especially on the butts of guns save for the ones you all carried yourselves.

“Fuck, looks like we got hit!” Tess is caught off guard, rushing forward until Joel stops here with a forearm and a small shake of his head. He moves up ahead of you both, the gun tucked into the back of his waistband sliding into his palm as he pushes aside what remains of the doors to the two apartments you occupy.

“They got everything we had stashed away.” His voice is a low rumble, anger and frustration filling the picked over and damaged apartment. He’s already cleared it as you and Tess approach, moving onto yours to clear it as well.

“This is because you showed weakness by working in that whore house!” Joel roars, dark glare focused on you as he appears back in the hallway. A shove of his gun barrel against your shoulder raises your lips in a snarl of argument.

“What I do in my spare time has no effect on the business!”

“It does it people think you’re weak, submitting to them!” He digs the gun into your shoulder again, to punctuate his words.

“Then everyone would be going after you, with how obvious it is you drown yourself in pills and booze until you pass out every god damn night!” You smack the weapon away from you with enough force that he doesn’t do it again, instead it’s hidden back in his waistband. He’s anything but calm as he shouts back at you, no doubt the entire population of the hall is listening against their closed doors.

“That has nothing to do with anything!”

“Then neither does my sparse visits to work somewhere that actually puts food on the table! The people we trade with don’t go there.” You step up into his personal space, the tension in the air thick and so unlike the last time you had done so. His eyes narrow, the brown of then shielded by the darkness of his pupils and the dim hall. The lights have been needing to be replaced for ages, your men following orders taking out the few that had remained working to make the scene.

“If they don’t, then the people that work for them do and tell them.” He doesn’t back down, his chest nearly brushing yours as he breaths in deep.

“Alright, why don’t- why don’t we all just take a breath. We had a good past couple of days, we can’t let this bring us down.” Tess is suddenly between you both, a hand on each of you to further push you apart. But you’re done. Tired and feeling too much after seeing someone who you never thought you would again mentally draining. You’re stepping around them both, their eyes heavy as they watch you walk over to your door.

“Oh, I’m not down about anything. Shit happens. Sometime tried to clean me out the second I took over the zone, it’s part of the game.” With that, you manage to shut the door as best you could.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, was wondering if somebody finally put you down?” The hair on the back of your neck rises as your skin prickles. You knew someone had been following you but you hadn’t expected it to be the man you last laid with the day Joel had caught you nearly two weeks ago. He was never one for conflict or conversation, but today he seemed willing to partake in both.

“Not that I owe you an answer, but I was busy.” Your eyes trace the way he reveals himself from the stooped doorway, the building is abandoned and boarded up. Deemed toxic due to the damage of fumes from the bombing that is evident just outside the walls.

This part of the zone is dilapidated, most of the buildings had been homes or independently owned and run businesses, but now it was the slums. The pleasure house is only a street away but that hadn’t been your intention of coming down here. It had been to retrieve some of the goods ‘stolen’ from you, stashed in an old building very few knew operated as a base for soldiers to reside in for their drug fueled days off from patrol.

“Feel like you owe me a freebie.” He’s bold to step in front of you in that moment, the street empty at the hour that closes the day in the zone.

“Not on your life.” Sidestepping him, you don’t expect him to reach out. He’s strong, his hands clasping in front of you as his front presses against your back. He’s overly hot, the scent coming from his clothes rotten and you thrash in his hold.

“Get her gun!” He’s shouting and you realize he’s not alone. There are four others now surrounding you, having slunk out of the shadows and alleyways. Someone makes a grab for it, where it’s holstered on your hip beneath your shirt. The fingers that graze your stomach are marred with ash and dirt, something you hope isn’t smeared into your skin. The man isn’t very focused, his eyes dipping to catch the flash of skin as he does so and you kick out at his hand.

The gun is knocked away from you the second it hits the broken asphalt of the street, the only weapon left on you is the knife tucked into your boot. But your thoughts are scrambled as your sense of gravity wavers, body suddenly pulled forward. Your forehead knocks into the ground, and you groan out at the feeling of rubble digging deep into the skin there.

“You fuckers!” You shout, hands reaching for the concealed blade as you feel a body pin you down. You don’t manage much as they’re suddenly held down, as are your legs. The feeling of the man above you and four more holding you down kicks your instincts into overdrive.

Surging up as best you can, you knock your head back as hard as possible. The crack of it hitting the man’s face is loud as is his cry of pain. He’s knocked off balance and into the two men holding your legs down.

Careening forward, you bite into the hand of the person putting their weight on your hands, teeth digging and tearing as he tries to pull away with a scream. He’s down and cradling his mutilated hand as you stand and brandish the knife you’ve finally got in your grip. Spitting, chunks of bloodies flesh spray onto the ground and you wipe the back of your free hand over your mouth, only managing to smear the blood further.

It slices into the skin of forearms and cheeks as the three men try to get you pinned back down and under their control with their ringleader tries to stall the bleeding of his broken nose and the whitening of his vision.

The man whose hand you bit reaches for the gun and he fires a shot that has everyone ducking. His aim had failed to help his friends but worked to your advantage as one of the men cries out at the bullet now lodged in his shoulder. The scene freezes, everyone completely caught off guard and you take the moment.

You’re reaching for the gun as he sits shocked and still, the metal rattling from how badly he’s shaking. Quickly forcing it from him and aiming it point blank, he’s slumped over and no longer breathing as you round on the others and fire three more shots.

The man who started all this is pleading, snot and tears running along with blood down his face. He’s spouting nonsense words of apology and to please spare him, that he’s learned his place and he won’t ever try to corner you again. But you don’t care. This man, this piece of nothing man had tried to track you down, to take from you, to assault you, to demean you. The knife in your hand sings for more blood but you’re shooting at him where he stands hunched over and holding a hand over his face.

He falls, hands flying to where his thighs meet his body as he whimpers. The pain of being shot in the groin too intense for him to muster up a scream. You feel a twitch of your lips as you watch him writhe and moan about on the ground, surrounded by the other men. But it’s not enough to soothe you and you’re bringing the knife down harshly as he reaches out to you for help he would never receive. His fingers scatter, and you feel the ease of your anger.

“Don’t come at me again or I’ll take your life too.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Telling them to make payments to you but I still have to go and deliver the goods? Do you have any idea what that makes me look like?” Joel’s voice is loud as his door creaks open, not completely repaired but enough to work for the time being. Something about him needing to find a certain type of glue for wood before he would complete the task.

“Excuse me?” If the blood staining your clothing or the tangled mess of your loosened hair catches his eye he doesn’t show it. Not even the cut above your brow or the stain of blood around your mouth and chin gives him pause and you realize he’s drunk from that and the loosely coordinated way he approaches you.

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but now is so not the time, Miller.” You warn, adrenaline still coursing through your body and making you shift on your feet to face him. His steps are loud, the effects of whatever he took showing.

“You listen to me, you little-“

You use the arm he reaches out to grab at you and haul him over your shoulder. The breath in his lungs wooshes out at the contact of his back hitting the floor hard. Before he even has the chance to realize he’s been downed, you’re straddling his stomach and holding the still bloody knife to his throat. He’s more aware of himself as you meet his eyes, the pressure of the blade sobering him up almost instantly.

“You wanna see how I left him, you wanna see what I looked like putting the last fucker down that dared to come after me. Dared to put his hands on me when I said no. Bleeding in the street without his fingers or his dick?” The thump of the man’s detached fingers onto his chest pull his eyes down and away from your own. They widen slightly at the sight of them, the white of the bones you severed stark in the fixed light of the hall. “Try me, Miller, try me and find the fuck out.”

He’s silent, eyes wide and mouth clamped shut. Chest heaving as he takes in the way you’re completely serious and focused on him. The knee you’re digging into his crotch painful for the force behind it and you see fear flash in his eyes. You take it in stride, feeling far more powerful than you had in months.

“That’s what I thought, go sleep off the pills you downed and report back to me tomorrow with payment or replacement.” He grunts as you shove off of him, his body stinging where yours had been on him, his neck feels cool where a few drops of blood form on the shallow cut where the knife had been.

The door shuts behind you, lock clicking in place. He stays there on the ground, heart beating wildly in his chest and his eyes take in the cut off extremities you had thrown at him where they had slid to the floor of the hall. His stomach lurches at the thought of the other one you had mentioned and he’s surging up to empty his stomach onto the faded and worn carpet.

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taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @orcasoul @itsokbbygrl @keylimebeag

@n7cje @hiddenbabynyc @ameagrice @everythingiwanttoread @furiousmushroom

@vivian-pascal @76bookworm76 @dugiioh @jellybeanxc @littlemisspascal

@undercoverpena @janaispunk @jessthebaker @persephone-girl

@corazondebeskar @harryscum @morgaussy @burntheedges @pascalpvnk

@cavillscurls @joelmillerisapunk @copperhalfcent @blackcatgreengrape

@the-orange-tabby-cat @yxtkiwiyxt @punkshort @cumberpegg

@littlemisspascal @mosssbawls @luxurychristmaspudding @cherrycolouredflunk

@tobethlehem @axshadows @ameagrice @theoraekenslover @mellymbee

@survivingandenduring *shoutout to @the-mandawhor1an for beta reading and @joelmillerisapunk for letting me scream with them while this chapter got finished and edited, thank you so much bbs!

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shadowdaddies · 10 months

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Hi:) I'm so happy that I am not annoying you with all the Eris requests, I really thought I was. May I ask for another one? One where the reader and Eris are mates and she is had always desired to dance with someone but she never had the chance and he arranges that. Please🙏

No you have NEVER annoyed me!! I've never been annoyed by requests, it brings me so much joy when you guys enjoy my writing💜 I appreciate you

A/N: oh this made me EMOTIONAL thinking about Eris with a mate where he doesn't care about how others perceive them, he's only focused on them

Dance with Me

Eris x fem!Reader

You were perched in Eris’s lap as he spent another late night in his office, sorting through reports that had him tugging at his flame red hair in frustration. Wiggling on his lap, your nose nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his comforting scent as you pressed a soft kiss to his skin. Eris stiffened beneath your gentle touch, letting out a quick exhale.

“I need a break,” he announced, hands wrapping securely around your waist as he lifted you from his lap. Eris stood from his chair, smirking at you as he took your hand in his and led you to the open space of his office, between his desk and the fireplace. “I need a dance with my lady, if I am to make it through this evening,” Eris spoke dramatically, bowing to you before he offered his hand. You giggled at your mate’s propriety - he was such a skilled dancer, and you were thankful that he entertained your attempts at the activity.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hand that made you blush furiously before pulling you into his arms and leading you in a silent waltz. Eris’s heartbeat, the crackle of the fire, and your laughter as you tripped over his feet - only for him to catch you in a graceful dip - echoed through the study. Amber eyes glowing with amusement, Eris smiled as he twirled you around the floor.

It was a favorite pastime for him to dance when he was stressed, and you loved learning something new from your mate. You dreamt of dancing in a beautiful ballgown, your mate leading you in front of the courts one day. Eris could tell you were lost in thought, a soft smile playing on his lips as he twirled you. “What’s on your mind, little vixen?”

You blushed, laughing nervously as you told Eris what you were dreaming about, but rather than laughing with you, Eris stopped the dance. Tilting your chin up, amber eyes looked deep into yours as Eris promised you, “I will not allow my mate’s dreams to remain such. I can think of no higher honor than to dance with you for everyone under this sky to witness.” Melting at his poetic way with words, you broke form, holding Eris close as you slow danced to no music, just the sound of his heart beating with yours.

~~~

Weeks passed, and before you knew it, the Autumnal Equinox was around the corner. It was an obscenely grand celebration in the court - for obvious reasons - and you had spent weeks helping plan the festivities and having fittings for your gown.

The Equinox was a twenty-four hour celebration, recognizing the equal hours of day and night as the season turned - but the night festivities were the highlight of the year, when the grand ball was held. The ball always began as a formal, civilized affair, but around midnight inevitably devolved into hedonism and debauchery that put Calanmai to shame.

You smirked at your form in the mirror, the shimmering ruby dress adorned with gold-toned leaves accentuating your figure perfectly. A knock on your door sounded, and one of your ladies-in-waiting who had helped ready you for the evening answered it with the excitement that you all shared amongst yourselves. Eris let out a soft laugh though the doorway at her eager expression, but all joking disappeared from his face as he looked to you.

Eris stumbled back a step as he admired you, the slightest bit of silver lining his eyes as he let out a small gasp. “You look... ethereal, my Lady,” Eris breathed, his eyes never leaving yours as he held out his arm for you to take.

You arrived at the ball, Eris seemingly still dazed by your appearance as the grand doors swung open to reveal the room of people. Many males watched as you entered, anyone who dared approach you earning a frightening snarl from Eris. You didn’t mind, leaning into his warmth as he wrapped an arm protectively around you and led you through the crowd.

Swiping champagne from a serving tray, Eris handed a glass to you and toasted to the beginning of Autumn. You watched the dancing for awhile, admiring the twirl of skirts and the rhythm of the music as they spun around the floor, all the while Eris gossiping about court politics and scandals that had you snickering in amusement. You had finished your drink, leaning into Eris’s side when the dance ended, and with a wicked gleam in his eye, Eris took your champagne flute, setting it down as he pulled you to the floor.

“Eris! I can’t dance here, I haven’t had enough practice for this yet,” you whispered as he smiled down at you with a twinkle in his eye. “You’ll do just fine, vixen. Just like we practiced - and I’m always here to catch you if you fall.” You felt the deeper emotion behind his words, taking hold of his hand as you lifted your chin and settled into practiced form.

The swell of the violin signaled the start of the dance, and Eris led you in a waltz as the orchestra played, groups of people stopping to watch as you fumbled your way through the motions. “Breathe, my love,” Eris whispered in your ear - just before you stumbled. Holding onto one of your hands, Eris spun you in a perfect circle before catching your waist, dipping you as if your mistake was a practiced maneuver. People cheered from the sides, impressed by your skill while you and Eris continued the dance. You felt like a princess, your own skirt flaring out as you spun around the ballroom with the love of your life.

The dance ended, Eris pulling you in for a deep kiss as the crowd again clapped for you. The adrenaline from the performance was coursing through your veins, and you hadn’t registered your surroundings until you felt the cool breeze of night air against your skin. Standing with Eris on the balcony, you smiled so hard your face hurt as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “This was the best night of my life. Better than any of my dreams,” you whispered, tucking a strand of fiery red hair behind Eris’s ear.

“The night isn’t over yet,” Eris said, a mischievous hint in his tone as he let you go, walking back to take a paper lantern from the staff. You looked around the yard, realizing it must be nearly midnight as you took in the people scattered about with their own lanterns ready. The clock struck, clanging out as Eris lit your lantern with his flame, and you sent it up into the sky with the others.

You watched the lanterns float away in the night until they disappeared over the horizon, turning to Eris. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt his own settle over your back and you whispered, “so what now, my love?” Eris let out a dark chuckle. “After midnight is when the real debauchery begins.” With that, you were winnowed back to your bedroom, Eris looking at you with a deeply hungry expression, tilting your chin to look at him. “And you wouldn’t believe the debauched things I plan to do to you tonight, little vixen.”

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sweetmariihs2 · 2 months

Text

My stf controversial opinions (no one asked) don't be mad at me pls don't take me seriously

I see Cedric being more like Sofia's uncle figure than father figure (he's the crazy uncle). Their bond together is definitely sweet but I think Cedric it's not a very parental guy and Roland would find their bond a bit weird since he's Sofia's father now. While Roland takes care of Sofia, Cedric gives her sweets and takes her to crazy places with him (like the sorcerers convention). He's defo the cool uncle for her even though everyone sees him as this weird guy

I don't see the appeal in cedlock but honestly I don't mind seeing stuff about them, it's a funny dynamic (please can someone explain them to me? I'm not joking)

which is funny because I'm so in love with Lorelei, Cedric and Roland's love triangle even though it's 100% fanon and they never appear together in the show at all

I don't shipp any of the children in stf, even though I get why some shipps are famous like Sofia x Hugo or Amber x Desmond, I just can't get used to the idea somehow, I can't see the chemistry, better saying. But it's nice!!! I also see it as a fun dynamic

I can't hate Wormwood, even after betraying Cedric he can't make me mad

The same applies to Cordelia. I think her character is a bit shallow :( we should have seen more of her and her personality through other episodes. I think that us as a fandom need to reunite to give her the development she deserved.

Now please don't kill me but I don't think Ruby and Jade are annoying, they're just immature. I think this can compare to Amber being mean in the start of the show, they're bad in their own ways. The way she treated them poorly since the beginning is just as bad as Ruby and Jade misbehaving!!

I don't like 70% of the two last seasons. Even the episodes where Cedric is in are just weird to watch, they don't pass the Sofia The First vibes at all :( they're nice but they can't even compare to Once Upon A Princess and season 1.

I personally don't like the protectors characters. I tried to, and I honestly don't mind a lot about their presence in the fandom (it's not like those shipps and stuff you roll your eyes whenever you see them, like I do with c*dfia) but I just don't like their presence in the show. Those episodes where Sofia was a protector trainee don't get much of my attention and Chrysta gets on my nerves just as much as Ruby and Jade do to almost half of the fandom. Honestly to finish STF those episodes were a sacrifice to watch. I couldn't pay attention to them and I had to rewatch them more than once. Their character designs also don't look like Sofia The First characters. They're not meant to be in this show.

I hate that Sofia got torn between that new unicorn character and OUR BELOVED Minimus. GIRL, MINIMUS IS A KING. WDYM you can't choose between him and an unicorn you just met. Just by the fact that her long time friend was feeling bad vibes coming from someone she just met is just a good reason to stop and think a bit. And the worst part was that Skye was fully against Minimus and was battling with him to get Sofia's attention. Like don't piss me off you just met her and Minimus watched her grow up. That episode was torture. And in the end Sofia was all "I don't know which one to choose 🥺 I'll just choose both" EXCUSE ME?!?? YOU JUST GOT TORN BETWEEN THIS NEW CHARACTER AND F ING MINIMUS

The merch group also started to make Sofia + Skye merch with him as her new horse friend and stopped making Sofia + Minimus stuff. The whole lesson of the episode was about keeping them both as her friends and you guys just replaced him. That shit pisses me off

I understand that the last seasons are so different from the first ones because the writer, Craig Gerber, had to focus on Elena of Avalor. But honestly, if I could decide between having Elena of Avalor and letting STF last seasons poorly done, or not having EOA at all but having STF as it was always meant to be........ I would have choosen the second option 😶

#sofia the first #cedric the sorcerer #sofia the fandom #cedric the great #cedric the sensational #princess amber #prince james #king roland

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certainlynotasimp · 1 year

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Cat Got Your Tongue?

(Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader)

A/N: Hello~✨This is the one-shot version of this head cannon some one requested of Miguel O’Hara with a Black Cat!Reader. I still have no idea if this Anon , who I think I know who you are, wanted it to be the personality trope or the actual Spiderman character…oh well, I’m planning on writing one with y’all’s Spiderman x Black Cat lovers. Also this is my first attempt at some spicy content so feedback is appreciated.

Warnings: 18+ themes (Minors DNI), Not smut, Female Reader/Pronouns, Embarrassed Miguel, Jealousy, Dirty talk, and Google Translated Spanish (( again I’m sorry but hearing him talk in Spanish is literally just 🤤🤭🥵))

~~~~~~~~~

The sound of aggressive typing fills the empty space as six spider men enter the meeting place within the lobby of the Spider Society.

Miguel barely sparred any of them a glance as they mumbled their small formalities while dragging themselves to their seats. All except the one the blue spider absolutely loathed to see in this room.

“Good morning, Guapito~” A sultry voice purrs into his ear causing the hairs on his neck to stand up. The SpiderWoman’s minty breath caused Miguel to bite on his salivating tongue as he chewed out. “Good morning, (L/N). Please take your seat.”

Throwing on a mask of annoyance, he glares at the snickering temperest as she sits beside him.

The new addition to the society joined about three weeks ago and Miguel never regretted anything more in his life than letting her bat her eyelashes into his team. Her faux innocence deceived him into believing she wouldn’t be too much trouble until the devil perked her head out of her.

Soon accidental brushes in the corridor turned into lingering caresses. Polite compliments turned into flirty promises as she continued to twist him around her finger. He should hate it. Hate every single bat of those long eyelashes. Hate every cat like curl to her lip. Hate how she acentuates her muscles and curves when she’s close to him. But he doesn’t.

The only thing he can possibly think that he hates about her was the ravage thoughts she puts into his head.

And he hates how he loves it.

“Alright, since we are all here.” He states as he opens the holographic map through out the room. “We are dealing with a dangerous anomaly in dimension 1746.”

As he finishes that sentence, a brush of something against his calf makes his muscles jump. He controls his face to remain calm and collected despite the urge to glare at the snickering spider beside him.

The others look at her confused for a moment before she fakes a sneeze into her elbow.

“Oh, excuse me.” She plays innocent as she grabs a tissue and dabs her nose. “The change in season in my world is causing a really bad allergy season…”

Her pitiful excuse causes the others to turn back towards their leader with a soft chorus of ‘bless yous’ plays out. Her eyes turn to meet his ruby gaze as a sinister smile curls on her pretty mouth.

‘Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.’ Miguel mentally groans as he throws himself back into the meeting.

“Lyla.” Miguel calls as he watches the heart eyed AI materialize infront of him.

“Yea, boss?” She says as she picks at her nails. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as he calmly asks, “Please show us all the information you gathered about the anomaly and what should we expect.”

“Isn’t that your job as the leader to do that?” The computer teases as Miguel glares at her.

“It does sound a lot more interesting when you explain it, sir.” A voice purrs beside him, causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand. His talons crack out of his skin as he grinned his teeth. Luckily, the red glow from the map allowed his heated cheeks to blend in.

“Well, (L/N), Maybe you should learn how to listen more to others.” Miguel grits out.

“Yea, hot stuff.” One of the spidermen whistles. “I’ll let you listen to me all night long.” He flirts as he uses the lense of his mask to wink at her.

The table almost cracks beneath the grip he on it as he tries to focus back on Lyla. “Parker-7853, you better watch your mouth before I send you home to your wife…” He warns he avoids eye contact.

The room goes back to the normal silence it was before as they all paid attention to Lyla explain the rules of the mission and the best ways to take out the anomaly without causing too much destruction to the fabric of space. Miguel focuses intently in front of him, but nothing the AI says processes through his brain.

The only thing he can think about was the burning gaze of the woman beside him. How she scoots a little closer and lightly traces her nail along his thigh.

‘Shit…’

As the agonizing minutes past by, the torture only got worse. Slight brushes along his leg and side, silent muttering of sweet nothings, disguised questions to hide the flirty remarks, and hyper attention on all of her perfume drove him mad.

His stomach was all in knots as he tried to remain composed as the meeting drew closer to the end. His fingers itched from the talons digging so deep into the chair as his fangs ached for a relief from the hunger she started in him. It’s hard to believe that she isn’t a Silk variant with how much she affected him….

The tension building in the room went unacknowledged but not unnoticed by the other spider men as Miguel’s signature frown was now a hardened scowl. The others didn’t dare point it out. They knew better than to call out their leader for being obviously distracted from the mission. They were all there when Miles Morales was at their base.

As the meeting ended, every spider man rushed out of the room before Miguel could properly dismiss them, leaving only him and his problem. The she-devil smiles sweetly as him as she stands up and innocently says,

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Right, Papi?” Her eyes shining with a look of mischief until she realized she broke the last bit of his resolve.

“Leaving so soon?” Miguel uncharacteristically smirks as he stands up and follows behind the woman. “I was hoping…” He pushes a button to cause the door to slam shut before the spider could escape his web. “We can have a quick chat about your behavior today.”

She turns and looks up at him in shock for a brief moment before slipping on her usual mask of flirtation. Her lovely eyes jumping from his looming figure towards any other way she could possibly escape. This wasn’t the usual reaction she would get from Miguel. He would normally scold her or roll his eyes at her advances, but today was different.

She’s fucked this time.

“Oh? I get some alone time with you today, Guapito?” She stuttered out as the growing dread and excitement bubbles up from her stomach into her rapid beating heart.

“Did you enjoy that?” Miguel asks sweetly, ignoring her comment as he stands just inches in front of her. His hand comes up beside her head and is placed against the door. His body leans forward as his open hand supports his weight. The tangible effect of watching his arm and shoulder flex from the strain almost causes her to pull her lip in between her teeth.

“En-enjoy what?” She acts coy as she tries to keep her eyes on his chest. She watches it vibrate with the deep cruel chuckle he releases and her own heart starts trembling as the smell of his cologne suffocates the air around them.

“Aw, is Gatita struggling to speak now?” A coo of false concern is laced with his amusement as she feels his other hand coming up beside her head. “What’s wrong, Gatita? Cat got your tongue?”

He chuckles at her struggling to respond as he threads his talons through her hair. He yanks her head back against the door softly as his hunger filled eyes burn into her wide ones. Jealousy and a long denied desire were now pouring out into his smirk as he leans down whispering,

“Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?” His smirk widens revealing his fangs as he trails down slightly. Her body starts to shake from the anticipation as his nose traces fire from her cheek bone and along her jawline.

“I-I don’t-“ Miguel hushes her softly as his other hand comes to rest on her hip. “Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…” He tuts at her as the talons lightly dig into her neck and hip.

“Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…” The Spider Woman had to bite her lip to hold back the noise building in the back of her throat as his fangs lightly scrape against her throat as he uttered sweetly bad things to her.

He smirks at this before saying, “Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?”

She vigorously nods as the mask of false bravado finally falls off before Miguel tightens his grip in her hair, causing a soft moan to escape her pretty glossed lips.

“Words, Gatita. I want to hear you…” He scolds as he looks at how pathetic the once flirty spider had become in his touch.

“Yes!” She admits as her hands shot up and clung to his chest as the stinging from her scalp causes her to yelp.

“Good…” His face comes back up to her own as he starts to lean toward. Her own eyes flutter shut as she waits for the feeling of his lips against her own.

But nothing came. Instead she felt his hands completely remove themselves off of her as her eyes shot open. Miguel chuckles at the stop whine as he smirks devilishly at her.

“This will have to continue another time, Gatita…” He says as he unlocks the door. His face quickly trains back to the normal stern expression he always wears before saying, “But, don’t you dare try to embarrass me in front of the others again or else I will do as I promised…”

The spider scurries out of there with a tight “Yes, sir.” As Miguel chuckles in satisfaction.

Before he could leave, the yellow AI materializes again with a wicked smile on her face as she teases, “So you do like her?…if you’re gonna sleep with her, please don’t do it when I’m around. It was hard enough watching your two eye fuck the whole-“

“Lyla, shut up.”

~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Ella va a ser la muerte para mí.- She's gonna be the death of me.

Gatita-little kitten?? ((It also said it meant cooked 😭))

You think it's fun to play with me like this, okay? In front of all your colleagues?- Crees que es divertido jugar conmigo así, ¿sí? ¿Delante de todos tus colegas?

Pobre gatita... ni siquiera puede defenderse... incluso cuando otro hombre amenaza con llevársela a casa…-Poor little kitten...can't even defend herself...even when another man threatens to take her home...

Estuve a punto de pensar en tomarte en ese mismo momento... que todos escuchen lo buena chica que puedes ser para mí…—I almost thought about taking you right then and there...let them all hear how much of a good girl you can be for me…

Tal vez incluso te paralice con mi veneno para que puedas suplicar sin poder hacer nada... pero te gustaría eso, ¿verdad, niña bonita?-Maybe even paralyze you with my venom so you can helplessly beg...but you would like that wouldn't you, pretty girl?

#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #fanfic #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara

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