#cause he hates his sister for some fucking reason.

[dredshirtroberts]

listen. I know my family is bad at communication and acknowledgement of receipt of Thing but when the one thing that consistently happens semi-annually is that I get fussed at for not confirming I received something, it irks me a smidge.

Like if I'm expected to always confirm "Hey I got your [communication/gift]" then why aren't they doing it back? Especially considering the communication in this instance has really actually very important information they will want to know if they want to stay in contact with me.

Like????

Even if I'd just gotten a "K" in response, like. at least it would have let me know they got the damn thing. I sent this email TWO WEEKS AGO and only one person responded - and it was practically immediate too. Like... i know folks are busy, i know shit's going on. I get it. But it would help me feel so much less like I'm suddenly a pariah in the family out of nowhere if like one of the people I'd sent this to had just responded in some way shape or form.

I'd have answered a phone call - i wouldn't have liked it, but i'd have done it. A letter in the mail to my current address even. a message in a bottle probably wouldn't get to me because i'm pretty far from the beaches of the great lakes, and also they're even farther, but like. something right?

my sister at least confirmed she got it and just forgot to respond. i imagine that's what happened with everyone else because we have the same mental illnesses and look. i do it too. but also? also?? i was hounded to respond quickly to things, i was told off every time i wasn't responding within a half hour of any communication. I was asked instantly the next time they saw me if I'd gotten it, even if i hadn't had a chance to see the thing yet.

So forgive me, family, if I'm a little peeved off that all y'all are allowed to "forget to respond" for two whole fucking weeks and then a few extra days (because it's been 2 weeks, 3 days exactly) when i can't let something sit in the mailbox for 2 days because i couldn't get to my mailbox easily while living on my own without getting a phone call or text or email that there should be something waiting in there for me.

*enraged screeching*

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Ngl youtube videos suddenly got me slowly turning into a Justin Russo hater.

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part eleven

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten

When you wake up after another sleepless night, you let out a big sigh. Since you’re back in Monaco things feel different. You can’t sleep properly anymore, the cold bed without Lando and his warmth in it aren’t enough for you. Things have changed since you’re back here. Lando is busy with his trainings, Quadrant, friends he didn’t see for a while and everything else he’s normally busy with. Meaning that there’s not a lot of time left for you. Lando told you in advance, but you told him it would be fine. Now you realize that it’s not fine. 

You know that if you call Lando, he’ll let you join him with everything you want. There is even a chance that he’ll send you a plane ticket for only today and tomorrow. It wouldn’t be something new. He’s in England for now, spending time at the McLaren Technology Centre. Lando told you about what he was going to do, something in the line of multiple sponsor obligations and a bit of sim work. Him not being in Monaco causes you to only miss him more. 

There’s nothing more you want to do then to call Lando up and talk to him, but you don’t wait to claim him too much. What if he thinks you’re too clingy? With another soft sigh you start to scroll on your phone. Not that it helps, when you open your phone you’re confronted with a thousand notifications. Since the last race weekend the notifications haven’t stopped. Everyone thinks Lando and you are actually dating this time. It has caused your socials to overflow with reactions, some people hate you while others claim that you’re their favorite WAG already. On the flight back you talked about it with Lando. There was an option of denying it and hoping they would leave you alone again, but the two of you decided to just let it be for now. 

You want to text Lando. Or would that be to clingy? Fuck, you really miss him. When a notification shows up on your phone screen, you’re quick to look at it. 

Lando: call me?

Without giving it a second thought you call Lando on FaceTime.

“Hey babygirl,” Lando greets you with a soft smile. 

“Hey Lan,” you greet him back. 

Lando asks you about the last couple days, you feel boring when you confess to him that you didn’t do a lot. You don’t have contact with your friends anymore since that brunch and now that Lando is also gone, your days have been boring. You are quick to ask Lando about his last days as well. He tells you everything in full enthusiasm. 

“But I can’t wait to get back to,” Lando doubts, he wants to say to you but that’s probably weird, right? “To Monaco,” he eventually ends his sentence. 

“When are you coming back?” You are quick to ask. You want nothing more then Lando back in Monaco and hopefully back with you. “Tomorrow baby,” Lando answers you, “Maybe we can grab dinner together when I’m back?”

“That sounds nice,” you tell him, that’s exactly what you hoped for. 

“What are you going to do today?” Lando continues to asks you. 

“I don’t know yet,” you confess, “maybe sleep a bit more, I’m still pretty tired.”

“Did I awake you?” Lando questions. You’re quick to tell him no, mentioning that you don’t sleep well at the moment. When Lando asks you for the reason, you don’t know what to say at first. You stay silent for a bit. “I kinda have the same problem you know,” Lando eventually confesses, “Since I’m back in my own apartment without you I haven’t gotten a good night sleep.” 

“Me too,” you share, “It feels weird to sleep alone.”

“Tomorrow we can sleep together?” Lando suggests. You’re quick to say yes. “And maybe some other activities,” Lando says suggestively. 

“Oh?” You reply.

“I miss you babygirl,” Lando softly murmurs, “All of you.”

“All of me?” You ask surprised.

“Yes,” he confesses, “I miss your body next to mine in the bed, since we slept in the same bed together I’ve been addicted to it. And don’t forget how bad it became now that I know how your body feels. I miss the soft sounds you make for me when I feel you up, or the way you always look at me with those innocent eyes when I know for a fact you’re not that innocent. I miss the way you pussy clenches around my cock.”

“Fuck Lan,” you mutter softly, “I miss you too. Haven’t cum since the last time you made me.”

“What did you just say babygirl?” Lando asks you. He looks at you through the screen, it’s not hard to miss how red your cheeks are getting. “Didn’t you orgasm since our last time?” He continues to ask. You show him a small nod. “Why not?” Lando asks further.

At first you shrug, not wanting to tell Lando that you have never pleasured yourself, but Lando sees right through you. “Have you ever touched yourself?” He asks you. 

“No,” you confess softly. 

“Don’t know how to do it?” He asks.

“No.”

“Want my help babygirl?” 

“Please Lan,” you almost beg. Since he told you what he misses about you, your pussy started clenching. You feel all tensed up and want nothing more then Lando to help you with it. Lando shows you a grin. He doesn’t say anything yet, causing you to let out another few pleas. “I need your help,” you softly confess, “I can’t do it myself.”

“Place your phone on your night stand baby,” Lando instructs you. You do what he says. “Lay down on the bed, I want to see your body.” You lay down on the bed, still dressed in your pajamas. Now you look at yourself in the camera, you notice that you’re pajamas are a skimpy string and a shirt from Lando. 

“Spread your legs for me,” Lando instructs you. You do what he says again. “Keep following my instructions,” Lando says, you show him a nod. “I want you to call me sir,” Lando tells you. “Okay sir,” you try it out, the words leave your tongue without thinking about it. It feels good. You notice the way Lando lets out a soft groan while hearing you call him this. 

“Touch your boobs for me babygirl,” Lando continues to instruct you. You lay your hands on your boobs, slowly grabbing them through your shirt. “Knead one of them,” Lando says, “and softly pull on the nipple from the other one.” You act out his instructions, a soft moan leaves your lips when you softly pull on your nipple. “Continue and switch sometimes,” Lando states. You keep doing what he says. Kneading your boobs firmly and softly pulling on your nipples. You feel your stomach tighten from the feeling. It feels weird to do this to yourself, you’re glad Lando is here to instruct you. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it babygirl?” Lando asks you. 

“Yes,” you whimper.

Lando tuts at you. “Wrong babygirl,” he says, “Stop touching your boobs.” You wonder what he means, then you get it.

“Sorry sir,” you whimper, “Sorry. Can I please continue?”

“No.”

You remove your hands from your tits. A soft whine leaves your lips. Lando chuckles. “Slowly move your hands lower on your body,” he continues to instruct you, “but skip your cunt.” You do as he says. “Tease the inside of your thighs for me,” Lando instructs you, “Stroke up and down on them. Get closer to your cunt, slowly, but don’t touch it yet. Just tease yourself and imagine that your hands are mine.” You keep doing what Lando instructs you to do. “You must be so painfully wet right now,” Lando mutters.

“Move one of your hands back to your tits,” Lando goes on, “Tease them as well. Knead those tits, pinch or pull on your nipples. Keep teasing yourself.”

“Yes sir,” you softly moan while touching your breast again. 

“Gonna get you so wet before you even touch your cunt,” Lando tells you. “It’s a shame I’m not there with you, I would put my mouth on one of them. Slowly sucking your nipple inside my mouth, licking and sucking those beautiful tits.” 

“Fuck sir,” you moan.

“You like this, don’t you? You love every second of attention I give you. Don’t you wish I was there with you babygirl?”

“Fuck sir, yes, I miss you. Want you here with me.”

“Take off your clothes,” Lando instructs you further. You’re quick to do so. 

“Use one hand to keep teasing your breast,” Lando continues, “and with the other one you’re going to get real slow towards your cunt. But don’t you dare to touch it yet.” You let out a soft moan now you feel your breast and nipple without any clothing between it. Lando lets out a soft groan as well. He softly starts to grab his boner as well. Lando never did something like this before, but it feels so natural with you. He’s surprised how well it’s going, the words are flowing out of his mouth without thinking about it.

“Lay down your finger on your clit for me,” Lando tells you, “but only for two seconds. Then you move your hand back to your thighs.”

You let out a whine when your two seconds are up. “Sir please,” you whine. “Not yet baby,” Lando says, “tease your thighs a bit more.” You still do what he says. When you look at your phone screen you notice that Lando has turned over the camera. you’re not seeing him anymore, the camera is focused on his boner now. 

“Fuck sir,” you mutter, “you look so hard.”

“That’s what you do to me babygirl,” Lando replies.

“Can I see how you touch yourself, sir?”

Lando doesn’t reply verbally. He moves his hand to his boner and starts to caress it, letting out a groan while doing so. “How badly do you want to touch your beautiful cunt baby?” Lando asks you, “Tell me about it.”

“Fuck sir, want to touch it so bad,” you murmur.

“Ask me.”

“Can I please touch my pussy sir?” You ask him.

“Okay babygirl,” Lando tells you. “Slowly put your finger back on your clit again. Use your other hand to tease your entrance.” You move your hands again. Almost letting out a loud moan when you finally feel something on your clit again. “Make slow movements, really slow,” Lando instructs. “Give it a bit more pressure,” Lando continues. 

“Fuck,” you whine, “Thank you sir.” 

Lando almost feels his cock bursting out of his pants when you thank him. He removes his pants and boxers. You see his boner springing to his freedom. Lando is quick to put his hand around it and starts to stroke it. 

“Oh babygirl,” Lando mutters, “the things you do with me. Continue to add pressure to your clit baby and slowly move one of your fingers inside you.” 

You spread your legs a bit more then before, causing Lando to let out a soft moan while seeing your cunt better then before. He strokes his own dick. Slowly you let one of your fingers enter your pussy. “Imagine that was my cock,” Lando teases you, “How much better would that fill you up baby?” 

“A lot better sir,” you answer, “There’s nothing better then your cock.”

Lando keeps getting amazed by you. “Such a good girl for me,” he tells you, “my good little..” He doubts a bit if he’s going to say it, but eventually takes the risk. “My good little slut,” he calls you. 

“Only for you sir,” you reply softly, “only for you.”

“Fuck babygirl,” Lando groans, “What did I do to deserve you?” 

In the mean time Lando increases his own pace. He tells you to do the same. You let out a couple moans while fingering yourself. “I’m getting close,” you softly confess, “can I cum sir?” 

“Not yet baby,” Lando tells you stern, “wait a bit longer.”

You’re turning into a moaning mess. You can’t even reply to Lando anymore. It’s getting too much for you. After not having felt anything like this for a week or so, the pleasure is getting to your head. Your stomach is as tight as it can be, your pussy is already clenching around your finger and the only sound coming out of your mouth are moans. 

“Add another finger babygirl,” Lando instructs you. You’re quick to act out his instruction. “Increase the pace but don’t let yourself cum yet. Imagine it’s my cock that’s inside you right now.”

“Fuck sir,” you mutter, “I’m so painfully close.”

“Beg for it.”

“Sir please,” you start to beg. You can’t even form normal sentences, words are coming out of your mouth but you don’t even realize which ones. “So close.” “Please sir.” “Fuck sir, it feels so good.” “Need you with me sir.” “Please.”

“You deserve it babygirl. Let it go,” Lando softly tells you, “Cum for me.”

You feel your body spasm. “Fuck,” you moan while you come undone. It amazes you that you just did this for yourself. While coming down from your orgasm, you look at the phone screen on your night stand. Lando is pumping his boner with a fast pace. While looking at it you feel yourself getting horny all over again. Then he comes undone as well with a loud moan. 

“Fuck babygirl,” Lando grunts, “That was amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” you softly reply, “It’s insane what you’re doing to me while not even being here.”

“You better wait for when I’m back,” Lando states, “because I can’t wait to feel you around my dick again.”

“Tomorrow right?” You ask teasingly. 

“Tomorrow you’re mine.”

+++

The day is passing by slowly. Lando texted you this morning that he will pick you up for dinner tonight. Since then you haven’t heard anything from him. You miss him. You can’t wait for him to show up here and take you with him. Only the idea of sleeping next to Lando again tonight, makes you feel all happy and bubbly. 

You’re looking at yourself in the mirror. The dress you’re wearing is a new one. After your FaceTime call with Lando from yesterday, you went out shopping. It felt weird at first to shop alone, but you aren’t in touch with your friends anymore after the last time where they didn’t stop insulting you. It’s for the better, but shopping alone is something else to get used to. Eventually you did find a beautiful dress for tonight. Now you’re wearing it you feel a bit of doubt kicking in. You usually don’t wear stuff like this. The dress is on the shorter side, almost revealing your ass. Maybe it’s too much for only dinner? You doubt about changing, but before you can decide you already hear the door bell. Can that be Lando? 

When you open the door, you’re greeted by Lando. He is quick to pull you into a hug before getting inside your apartment. “Hey babygirl,” he greets you with a soft voice. He puts a small kiss on your cheek. When he pulls back from the hug and walks inside with you, Lando is quick to take a good look at you. 

Lando can’t take his eyes off you. Fuck, since when do you own dresses like this? Do you really expect him to have dinner with you while you’re dressed like this? He can’t focus on dinner or anything else when you look this beautiful. Fuck. The dress barely covers your ass and Lando can’t stop looking at it, certainly when you walk towards the kitchen to get him something to drink. 

“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando sighs eventually, “since when do you own dresses like this?” 

“It’s too much isn’t it?” You ask a bit unsure. Lando hasn’t stopped looking at you since he’s inside. 

“No,” Lando quickly states, “it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Lando doubts for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “But I do think I can’t focus on anything else then you in this dress and fucking you.”

“What’s stopping you?” 

In no time Lando has himself pressed up against your body. You don’t know how Lando got you here like this, but you’re pressed up against the wall. His mouth is attacking yours. You feel his hands all over your body. As fast as he can manage Lando pulls up your dress. When he feels your string and the way it’s already dampened by your cunt, he grins. 

“So wet already baby,” Lando mutters. You grab his boner through his pant. “And so eager,” Lando continues. You play with Lando his belt, trying to get if off but you can’t reach it properly. A soft annoyed grunt leaves your lips. Lando grins and removes his belt himself, then he pulls down his pants and underwear. You see the way his boner slaps soft against his stomach. Fuck you almost forgot how big it was. 

“When we’re back from dinner I’m going to take my time with you,” Lando states, “but now I really  need to feel you on my cock.”

“Please do,” you softly reply. Lando takes his earlier words into action. He lets his dick slide into your cunt. It causes you to let out a hard moan. Lando fucks you harder then ever before, it never felt as amazing as this. When he squeezes your boob you almost yell out his name. “Fuck Lando.”

Lando grunts. He increases his pace again. When he starts to feel close to his orgasm, he almost feels ashamed for feeling his orgasm reaching this soon. Then he notices the way you look. It looks like you’re close as well. 

“Never came this fast in my life,” Lando groans when he feels his cum leave his body. You feel your orgasm hitting you as well. “I can say the same,” you joke, “but it’s not like I have a lot of experience.”

“Dinner?” Lando asks you five minutes later. “If you can behave,” you laugh. Lando grabs your hand, intertwines his fingers with yours and takes you with him towards his car. You barely can remember to grab your stuff before getting into his car. 

“It’s insane how much I missed you,” Lando confesses.

“Same,” you softly reply. 

“And I have to leave again in only two days for the next race,” Lando sighs. 

“I know,” you sigh back. 

“Join me?”

“You want me to join you again?” You ask Lando confused.

“Babygirl, I want you to join me every time I’m leaving home.”

a/n; i feel like this story is coming to an end but i have no idea how to finish it, help is welcome :)))

part twelve

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

taglist p2: @chezmardybum @booksandflowrs @mineandneveryours @strawberryy-kiwii @noneofyourfbusinessworld @secretgal66 @trinity2058 @evieepepi08 @shutupmymomsc4lling @smiithys @nanamilkbread @hellowgoodbye @annie115 @random-1927 @sadmeal444 @christianpulisic10 @peachiicherries @toppersjeep @lovingaphroditesworld @kiskso @silentreader128 @lauralarsen @scopeiguess @trinity2058 @shy4turcs @moonlight-girls-posts @xjval @saachiep81 @leclercdream @adalynneva @swiftiedrafts @oscahpastry @customsbyjcg-blog @idontcare011 @f1fantasys @emyladia

[moonslust]

Plus I've tried following that "kids are not stupid" advice but they don't. know. shit. but then how do I teach them things without every minute of the day becoming a life lesson and them categorizing me as the most boring cousin? Running into a wall is what it is, running into a wall.

[pupcuck]

JINGLE BELL COCK !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, uncle/niece incest, somno

notes. MERRY CHRISTMAS!! this is very messy and rushed i haven’t been able to write properly lately so forgive me for the repetitiveness and clunkiness!! ignore typos as always :3 feedback n rbs always appreciated !!! this is reallyyy sloppy and I’m embarrassed so I may go back and delete and rewrite in a few days time 😭

tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“Woah,” Leon's knees almost buckle when you barrel into him, “Pumpkin, wow,” He takes you in, settles his hands on your hips, and it might be inappropriate ‘cause your mother glares at him over your shoulder. What did she want him to do? Grab your ass? Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. Just doesn’t wanna get put on a list of some kind. “You’re so big now.”

“Yeah?” Your cheeks split with a sweet smile, “I missed you, uncle.”

“God, you’re so big I can’t believe it,” He gives you a once over, he’d like to catcall you to show you how he feels, Leon refrains from doing so. “I remember when you were a kid, always sat in my lap ‘n said you wanted to marry me.”

“Awww,” A gloved hand comes to pat his cheek, you take the tip of the fabric between your teeth, taking it off finger by finger, “I can do that again if you’d really like, uncle.” Your nails scratch his scruffy chin, press your finger into the divot he hates so much, then you stare right at it. Don’t look at that, god. Totally messed him over. Shit fucked up his golden ratio.

“What're you lookin’ at, pumpkin?” He shifts from foot to foot, moves his flight bag from one shoulder to the other.

“Just never seen you with a beard,” You shrug, beaming at him once more. Okay, not the chin then, thank fuck. “It’s cute, uncle, makes you look older.” Leon doesn’t know if that’s good or bad, though he feels his spinal disk shrink with each passing second.

You turn on your heels when his sister-in-law, fine as ever, says your name, “We should go before she gets pissy.” You tell him cheekily, taking his hand in yours, and you’re so big now he can’t believe it. A whole lot of tit, hip, and your ass ain’t too shabby either. Leon’s justification is that he’s only a man, can't help himself when he sees a pretty girl, even if said girl is his niece. He’s an honest guy, gotta give his brother props for marrying such a smokeshow, even more credit for knocking her up. ‘Cause she popped out an even hotter girl, younger, brighter, and your tits sit prettier.

Their family stands on crumbling foundations, when he’s around his brother, Leon’s five seconds away from blowing his brains out at any given moment. He doesn’t know why people question his suicidal tendencies, he’s more than willing to show them. Snow crunches under his boots as he navigates the path leading up to the front door. The layer of glossy red paint has chipped away to reveal the mahogany beneath. It’s been that long, huh?

“I’m in college now, I have my licence and everything, uncle, I wanted to visit you in D.C. but I couldn’t get ahold of you,” You chatter to him, tugging at your laces and propping your shoes up on the shelf near the door, make the move to grab his suitcase, but Leon swiftly moves it aside. “I can carry it, I’m a big girl now.”

“No, you’re not,” Leon frowns, to him you’re a baby. An undeveloped prefrontal cortex and a soft spot on the top of your head. Yeah, you got a rack now, sure, he wants to fuck you now - doesn’t change a thing.

“Okay, well did you bring me a present?” You trail after him, and you really are still a baby.

“Yeah, you’re my favourite girl, I bought you lots.” He’s not sure if you’ll like it. Colouring books, dolls, plastic jewellery. He’s a bit of an idiot. Didn’t think about how long it’s been.

“Can I open them now?” You seat yourself next to him on the couch, knee bumping his.

“Later, pumpkin, I promise.”

“I want to transfer to Washington.” Wine trickles over the edge of your cup, Leon soaks it up with a napkin, dabs at your face when a rivulet dribbles down your chin.

His brother’s knocked out in their dad’s old armchair, it’s beyond saving, but he’s cheap. Your mom retired to bed a while back, they argued over something trivial, a cheeseboard or some shit, and with that it leaves the two of you.

“Yeah? You got friends out there or what?”

“No, but you’re there, uncle.” You grin, batting your lashes so pretty he gets without popping a viagra or two. Three. He needs three minimum. “I could come stay with you, right?”

Fuck no, under no circumstance should he be allowed within fifty feet of you. And here Leon is, bumping knees, brushing fingers like you’re lovesick teens on a first date. That’s just not right, is it? He’s a decrepit old man on his way to getting a senior bus pass, and he’s your uncle and all. Can’t really go around popping boners over family members.

“I work too much.” Leon says coolly, sweat dripping from his temple, drumming his fingers against the table. “Hey, you wanna open your presents?”

“Yes!” You nod with wild enthusiasm, like a bobblehead, cute ones you keep on the dashboard. Leon would love to take you home with him, display you on the mantle like a China doll, show you off like some rare artefact. Just can’t, he’d end up doing something awful, peeking in on you showering— or worse he’d start sleepwalking, get into your room- “Go get them then, uncle.”

The paper is pink, the shade you used to adore as a young girl, the colour you’ve since painted over in your room. He got that professionally wrapped, big bow on it and all. Leon’s not good at making things look pretty. It’s easier to assemble a gun than it is to wrap presents. Your name is scrawled on the tag in cursive writing that belongs to none other than Claire, she insisted on doing so, felt inclined after seeing his chicken-scratch.

“It’s for me, you shouldn’t have, uncle!” You snatch it out of his hands, Jesus, had more manners when you were a kid. Once you tear through the paper, you blink down at the plastic princess costume jewellery. Clip-on earrings, fluffy mules that are much too tiny, the whole lot. “Oh, wow, well, it sure is nice.”

“Pumpkin,” Leon starts, “It slipped my mind that you’re a big girl now, I wasn’t thinkin’ and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You placate him with your smile, “I’m just glad you’re here.” Cheesy, still makes him swoon.

“We can go shopping ‘fore I go back, I’ll buy you whatever, yeah?”

“I don’t need that,” You shake your head, eyes flitting from his lower half then to his lips. He’s making shit up in his head now. It’s late, Leon should go to sleep, doesn’t wanna start kissing on you and end up in court. “Oh, you’re going already?”

“I’m tired, pumpkin.” My dick is so hard it’s cutting off all blood flow to my brain, my pants are squeezing it so tight I’m gonna contract sepsis and that shit will fall straight off, I don’t want my dick to fall off, pumpkin, hope you can understand my reasoning. Leon hopes you can see the desperation in his eyes, that you can see the sentiment he’s trying to get across.

The bed creaks with his weight, and it’s the same dusty, bed-bug ridden shit his brother’s had for years. He jerks off, blows his load on his stomach, too worn out to clean it up. Falls asleep with his hand down his pants. Then Leon starts having wet dreams like he’s twenty-one again, of your petal lips, of your hands on his dick, your tits, how your thighs look when you sit. Warmth engulfs his cock, and it’s so real, he’s so sure you’re right there, sucking him off like a good girl. You’re cute like a sex doll, and it’s unfair that he has to put on this uncle act. Used to come natural to him when you were a kid, but it’s just different.

Only when Leon lifts his hand does he come into contact with skin, with hair, and a human. At first, he thinks it’s the dog, one of the three. Then he feels small hands parting his thighs further, the familiarity of your smile warming his skin.

“Pumpkin.” Leon rasps, and it’s not quite warning, just a tone that says keep going, but this is fucked up, doesn’t mean I don’t want it though. He thanks you for making the first move.

You pull off with a wet pop, kissing along his Apollo’s belt. “I want to come to D.C. and stay with you,” You say between fervid kisses, “I want to be with you, uncle, you’re handsome and I like you.” Your confession is feverish, he wonders if you realise the weight of your words. Can’t go around telling lonely old men that you like ‘em.

“I’m your uncle, pumpkin.” Leon states simply, ‘cause he’s an adult and he’s collected, but you can keep pumping his dick like that, he really don’t mind.

“No one would know,” You kiss the sticky tip, pre smeared over your lips like lip gloss, tongue poking out to taste him, dipping into his leaky slit. “I could be your girlfriend.” Leon doesn’t even know you, he knows the little girl you once were.

Leon’s too old for that shit. Girlfriend boyfriend talk. “I’m too old to be dating, pumpkin.” He cradles the back of your head with his calloused hand, guides you to base of his shaft, your tongue tracing the vein that runs along the underside of his cock.

“Yeah, but you’re not too old to marry me, are you?” You’re a clever girl, giving him a cheeky smile as you sit up and clamber into his lap.

“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Don’t stop, pumpkin. Same thing. He hopes his dick says enough, standing proud as you lift your hips, wet hole stretching to accommodate his fat tip. Leon can’t see your face, but he shuts his eyes and thinks about it, how your lips would part so pretty, and you’d toss your head back, sweat making your skin all shiny.

“I just really like you, uncle.” One way ticket out of this shitty town, away from his shitry brother, away from your narc bitch of a mom, free food, free housing - Leon understands your motive. Truly, he does, and he can’t find it in himself to give a damn. If you pretend to love then it matters all the same.

“Okay, then sit on it, pumpkin.” Leon urges, firm hands finding purchase on your hips, forcing you down on his cock till you take all of him to the hilt. The head bumps your cervix, and Leon is in love with you. Thank fuck he came back home, thank god, thank Claire for pushing him to the point of booking a flight. “You wanna marry me?”

“I told you, didn’t I? Promised I was gonna marry you when I was a kid.” You press your tits flush to his chest, lips ghosting Leon’s. “I wanna marry you so bad, uncle, you’re all I want.” And Leon can’t help himself, doesn’t mean to let go so early, the coils of heat in his belly turn searing, and he empties himself into you with a groan. The quiet noise of disappointing you let out as his cock softens inside of you is adorable.

“You gotta get used to that if you marry me, I’m old now.” He strokes your head, holds you tight, refuses to let go now that he’s got you.

“I can deal with it, uncle, as long as I get to be your wife.”

[blingblong55]

Matilda- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Photo creds:@ave661^

Based on a request:

Ghost finding out his s/o has a bad family, who she doesn’t keep in contact with but talks shit about and is like. Pretty open about how fucking awful her past was? if it’s too much I get it but like- I used to love your angst posts :3 they were so yummy! --- F!Reader, 18+, angst, comfort, family issues/trauma, mentions of SA/rape, mentions of eating disorders, toxic!family, mentions of child abuse, so...trigger warning!! ---

A/N: this is me trauma dumping so I'm sorry if it isn't perfect

Simon knew, he knew well that you weren't so open to starting a family with him for reasons he knew best to respect. But, one day, without him even realising he asked the question, you sat down and told him the story your teary eyes held for so long. As he listened to you explain the stories, he noticed how he wasn't speaking to his wife but to the little girl, his wife once was. The one who was left in a cruel world to people who shouldn't have had kids. "So, they...abused you?" He carefully asked and when he noticed you pause, he knew the answer you didn't. "I...I don't think so," your soft words spoke. 

Nothing about the way you were treated seemed especially alarming 'til now

"What I know is that they were mean, evil to me. I was a kid...how was I to know right from wrong so easily?" You held his hand, support you failed to have as a child. Then, you told him the story of a young R/N. "I don't remember the exact age, but I could've been 5 through 8. I was there, he took me to his room, I thought we were going to play and he said we would so would I have known, you know?" Your innocent voice spoke the fear he held. "I don't remember much of that day but in glimpses, if I look too deep, I can see his hands between my thighs, and how he...well...you know," you couldn't explain, it was like a knot in your throat prevented to cause your heart more harm. "And you didn't tell your parents?" His voice is soft. You shake your head, "No, I...as a kid, they never believed what I said," you chuckle out of coping with it all.

"There was one time when my older sister tried to suffocate me, I didn't do anything to deserve it, all I did was watch cartoons and she annoyed me but I knew best and didn't feed into what she wanted from me." You pause and wipe some tears away. Your gaze never fell on his, afraid to break down too easily if you stared at the man who became home to you so long ago. He was that, he was comfort and home and you knew that if you stole one glance, you would be sobbing the stories. Your hand held his tighter, he knew well it was for comfort. "She pressed the pillow tight on my head, I was sick and my stupid lungs couldn't take the fact I had pneumonia, so of course killing me would be easier," you chuckle again. His gaze never left your delicate face and even he had to admit he cried as you told him these stories. 

After a long sigh and pause you continue, "I somehow pushed her off me and ran to my parent's room, knocked loud and when my dad opened the door I swore I finally felt safe until I didn't," You know he was ready to ask why but you just laid your head on his shoulder. Looking off into the distance you continued, "My sister told them I pushed her, told her that I hated her, which is not true because hate is strong and she is my sister," you shake your head. "I cried when they didn't believe me, and had a panic attack in their room. and when I backed into a corner as my mother and father yelled at me...that's when they took my sister to the hallway and my mother stayed with me, she tried to hug me but I didn't need none of that...not from her." His hand rubbed your arm, knowing what you needed from him. You wipe some tears away, your breathing hitches and he wraps both arms around you. "I didn't hurt her Simon, I swear I didn't but no one believes me, no one," you whisper the last part. "I know you didn't, my love," he kisses your head and continues to rub your arm. 

"I believe you, I'll always believe you before anyone else," he reminds you. "I...my mother gave me water and sent me to my room, told me to just sleep it off," you stop and cry. "Oh my love," he whispers and carries you onto his lap. The pouty frown broke his heart more and more. The cosy home he and you made for the years of your life, warming up his belief that slowly, he will replace all those bad years. The fireplace radiates heat on the snowy winter day. "In this world, I'll always believe you, no matter what, okay, my love?" He looks down and you nod. "That's my girl," he says and places a blanket over you both. "Do you want to continue, my love?" He asks, rubbing your back with his warm touch. 

"I do," your voice is small. It was best to open about this and then burn it and let the ashes fly away than to keep it locked in for eyes to see. "I...as I grew up, I knew I had no place in that house. My mother shamed me for my body, and so did everyone in my family." Your head nuzzling onto his chest like a cat finding comfort. "So, I starved myself to be the perfect daughter. I did try to be perfect, I tried to get an I love you, a simple smile or hug." He nods, understanding where you came from. "One time, my mother grabbed my stomach, she told me I was fat and looking back at how I was at that age, I...I was healthy, nothing was ever wrong with me, nothing," you repeat in a whisper. 

After a long time of comfortable silence, you speak again. "As I grew older, they made me feel terrible about all of me, how I dressed, if I did my makeup, my hair, my body, the stretch marks that decorated my body, all of it and even I wasn't allowed to have one bad day, not one." He shook his head and in that instant, he understood why all those years of loving you, you always avoided starting a family conversation. You were afraid to be like them, to persist in a cycle of never-ending trauma. He knew you loved him, he knew how much you yearned to be a mum, to watch him and you become parents and do foolish things for and with your child. 

"I never understood why I was so insecure over my thighs or why I hated when people touched them, but as I grew older and noticed that I was...you know... I..um.." You could never be admitted, never say you were raped as a child, not when you were scared to acknowledge it again. "I know love," he responds so you don't torture your heart anymore. "But...when I realised what happened to me, that's when it all hit me and there was a time in my young life that I knew I would never forget," you kept holding onto his torso. "It hadn't been long after what that...person...did to me when my mum and sisters pinned me to the ground, they knew then that I disliked people touching my thighs so they pinned me to the ground and touched them," you shake your head, trying to forget the moment. "They...th-they touched my body as I cried and begged for them to stop and not once did anyone stop or help me. My father walked by and he...he just laughed and kept walking...how...how can you do that?" You cried. "How can a parent do that? I was a kid, Simon...a child," you broke down. 

"And don't get me started on why I felt like Christmas was just not a happy holiday anymore." Your mind went to a past Christmas, your family yelling, your father accused of his cheating, never denying, just lying and yelling at your mother. You hid in a closet, grabbed headphones and played music loudly. Hours passed and your mother saw fear within her eyes as she cried to you, why can he love me? she asked as she cried, you played strong. Your father drove away, leaving his family scared and cornered in a bathroom, crying as they listened to stories. 

"My dad used to hit me, well, my entire family really," you confessed. His eyes widened, he knew they were bad, but not this bad. "My dad had a belt he used to hit me with, my mother and sisters used to watch. One time, they added more fuel to the fire as they told him more lies to get me into more trouble, part of me thinks they loved to watch me cry and get hit." You so innocently say, "When I was a kid and even as I grew older, my mum and dad would hit me and tell me they did it because they loved me." He shook his head, "Never...never in your life do you dare think that way. If I even dare to lift my hand at you, you leave me, my love. Because no matter how much you or I love the other, abuse doesn't equal love," he cups your face. You nod. 

You learned one thing from Simon as he listened, that he was calm after the bad storm. He had his troubles, yes, but never would he be like them. He and you healed the other after all those years of a bad life you lived. You and him, sunshine to the other even in the darkest of the night. He has become light and a new beginning. Family. And as you admire the soul who can tell which smiles you are faking, you know that the little girl in you is finally safe. She has packed her dolls and sweater, moved to the countryside, grew up and fell in love with a man. A man who is home, a man who became the grown-up little R/N runs to when scared. For he is home, he is light and he is love. He is your man, your safe place and the one you find comfort in. 

I don't believe that time will change your mind In other words I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go

"No more," he told you, you looked up at him in confusion. "No more?" you asked and he shook his head. "From this day on, you are not their blood, you are a Riley, you are R/N Riley and never will you be associated with them." He cupped your face. His tone was stern as he tried to make you listen to him. "They are not family, my love. They are strangers you lived with. And me...I am your family, we don't need another shit Christmas, we can...hm...we can have dinner here, or maybe get takeout and watch your favourite movies all day and night. Hey, who knows, maybe that Santa Clause man will come in the night as we sleep and hopefully you've been nice my love because I want him to bring you some good gifts," he chuckles as he cups your delicate face. You laugh a little, "Hey, look who's back, that cute laugh of yours my love," he kisses your lips and pulls you to him, closer than you already were. 

You can start a family who will always show you love You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own

In this lifetime, you will learn many things and you will meet many people. Most of which will come and go. Those who stay, you may ask? Well, they become a family, maybe not a biological one but it's not blood that relates two strangers. It's memories, it's understanding, growing, living and loving. Family is him, family is the old lady or that professor you bonded with. Family is people who make you feel safe and at home. For if you are lucky, in this life you will find your Simon Riley. The person who wraps you in a warm blanket and loves you a little more when you hate the reflection in the mirror. And if you get even luckier, you will find that not only will it be Simon Riley who heals your old wounds and covers them in kisses and caresses. You will find yourself, maybe in ten years, getting covered in glitter, mud, and stickers and having the walls of your home drawn on by Simon's child. The love child that was created on a warm Christmas morning. The same one that wakes you up at six in the morning to go and see what the big red man brought them for Christmas. 

And if you are lucky enough, you will find peace. The same one you looked for since age 5, the same one you cried for throughout the years. Maybe it won't come this year, but if you are patient enough, you will find it and when you do, appreciate it because you cried for it many moons ago.

You don't have to be sorry, no

A/N: the tears I shed as I wrote this made a river. Anyway, thank you for letting me dump years of trauma with this one, love you all <3

Tags:

@ghostslillady @liyanahelena @sans-chara @siwwayouu @allaboutirem0 @just3rowsing @mothcelestial @blankk3

[stone-stars]

happy 6 years of naddpod everyone <3 (alt title: the dragon pussy podcast making me cry for 6 minutes straight)

Transcript:

Mee Maw: That's true, but… there's also somethin' else. Murph: And you see she pushes her cloak to the side, and you see she has black scabs-- Caldwell and Jake: Oh, no! No no no! Moonshine: Oh, Melora! Murph: --and deep crick rot all over her chest and neck.

Marabelle, weakly: Jolene? I-- I didn't realize I was gonna get to-- say I was sorry. Moonshine (pretending to be Jolene): Thank you, of-- of course you're forgiven! I love you so much! You're my big sister!

Melora: You're not cursed. You were born like this.

Hardwon: (desperately) Gemma? Gemma? Gemma wake up. Gemma baby. Hey. Murph: You see she's-- she's-- she's cold and dead. Hardwon: Fuck!

Balnor: I couldn't help them. I can barely swing a sword. Alanis: There's a war coming, and everyone needs to fight. Even old men who don't know how.

Beverly, crying: No, he's-- he's my light. He's my Pelor! He always was! I strayed!

Bev Sr: You tell her the truth, Bev. You tell your mom that I died in the Feywild. Beverly: (crying) You know I'm bad at lying. Bev Sr: It's not a lie, Bev.

Deadeye: Yeah, I know I'm down a hand. And an eye. And a life. But I got a soul, and a family. And I finally know which is worth more.

Deadeye: I hate to think about what woulda happened to me, but maybe more I hate to think about who I still would've been if I had never met you.

Rosa: JV, I can't-- I can't find my lantern. JV: Aw, well look at that? There's a lantern right here. Rosa: Are you sure that's mine? JV: Yeah. Yeah, I'll-- I-- I'm gonna go look for mine.

Hardwon: --interpretation. I-- I-- Moonshine: Hardwon, I really don't want you to want to die, because I want you to live so much and I don't want to be alone in that feeling.

Lydia: Elias, is that you? Hardwon: It's uh-- It's still little Elias. You saved the child, ma.

Lydia: I don't know what I've been these past few years, I don't know what I've been these past few decades. But I want you to know that when I was your mother that... you were wanted.

Murph: Somebody who felt they could never have a child… um, is holding their child. Moonshine: I-- I didn't want to need you, dad, but… now that you're here… it-- it's kinda nice.

Murph: Your father has given you... a strategy guide on how to beat him. Caldwell: I have to look away so that the tears don't ruin the pages.

Beverly: (tearful) I don't want to go. I don't want to go. But I have to. It's my duty. I have to do this. Moonshine: Okay, youngin, I want you to know. I will love you whatever you choose to do. But, here's my two cents: A child has a duty to his father, but a hero has a duty to the world. Now, I've got my opinion of which you are. But it's time for you to decide.

Bev Sr: Thanks, Bev. I always-- I knew I could make the deal, because I knew you'd stop me.

Moonshine: (tearful) I-- I've been wanting to tell you about this for so long, and I just didn't get a chance to. And I don't know if I will, so I just wanted to make sure I told you.

Moonshine, crying harder as she goes on: Paw Paw. You are… You are my best friend. And you are the best part of me. (sobs) And I am so grateful. For-- (sobs) the fact that so much of our lives have been braided together. But… where I'm going, next-- after we beat Thiala, which we will-- you can't come, mmkay? So I just need to make sure that you are taken care of, and I need to make sure that you take care of some people, okay?

Pendergreens: This time, you picked me up. And you were nice to me for no reason.

Pendergreens: If when you come back... if I'm different? Moonshine: Mhm? Pendergreens: Just, remember me as I am now. 'Cause I like who I am when I'm around you.

Death: I will take everything from you-- Hardwon: Quit pointing at people! Death: --until you come with me. Hardwon: Ok-- I'll go! I'll go. Beverly: Hardwon, no! Hardwon: Bring her back, and I'll come. Bring her back.

Lydia: All my life, people told me what I had to be. You don't have to be anything other than what you are.

Lydia: I think you should talk to your friends. Not because you owe them an explanation, but because you deserve to be heard.

Melora: Beverly. Beverly: Yes? Melora: I wish you could grow up in a normal world, but the Gods have not blessed you with a normal life. You are… afflicted with duty. Things thrust upon you far beyond your years.

Melora: The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor, what an injustice.

Moonshine: How long do Half-Elves live? Mee Maw: You talkin' bout Hardwon? Moonshine: I mean-- It's on my mind.

Moonshine: I guess, if I'm being honest, I don't know what it's gonna be like to know Bahumia without Hardwon Surefoot. (tearful) And there's a part of me that doesn't want to find out what that feels like.

Moonshine: There is something sour I probably need to swallow, though. It is-- There's people you meet that are once in a timeless body lifetime kinda people, right? Mee Maw: Oh, yeah. Moonshine: Okay. Mee Maw: And you keep 'em with ya. Moonshine: Okay.

Moonshine: (crying) It's okay, Balnor. Like all the most powerful things in this world, I knew I was only borrowing you.

Hardwon: Moonshine, when-- When I left Irondeep, I-- I didn't know where I fit in. And then I met you, and you didn't just let me in. You brought me in, and you thought I was good.

Balnor: I hope that you all get to leave this world with the same comfort that I had: knowing that it's in good hands. I love you. Murph: "Your knight, Balnor."

[pascallatte]

Slip-ups

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actress!reader

Date: Jan 2019

Warnings: none I think but maybe a hint of something.

A/N: this is from y/n's POV and can be a 2nd part of the series but this is a long way from that. yeahhh. Hope you guys like this!!

Y/N L/N Answers the Web’s Most Searched Questions

“Good Afternoon, this is Y/n L/n and this is the wired autocomplete interview,” you started with the most monotonous voice you could ever make

-Autocomplete suggests the most common searcher on the internet-

“I am very excited, I’ve been wanting to do this since like forever but you guys never invited me, which was sad,” the camera then proceeds to zoom in your faces as you looked at the lens with a very menacing look. 

-So WIRED asked Y/N L/N some of the internet’s burning questions- 

Giggling to yourself, you sat back and took the first board that was given to you.

With a bright smile you said “Alrighty WIRED let’s do thisss!!!”

“Is y/n l/n….related to Sarah Paulson” with a scoff you shook your head and released a very breathy “NNOooooooo” 

“ But I’ve been asked this questions a couple times now and as much as I want to be related to Sarah, we are not.”

You looked back at the board, read it a few more times then nodded.

“ But we are sisters though, just not by blood.”

-Cut-

“ Is y/n l/n Elizabeth Swann”

“Oh!! Yup I am the Elizabeth Swann from Pirates of the Caribbean” you explained as soon as the question was revealed

“ did you know that not many people knew I was in that movie? And the reason?” You excitedly asked as you looked at the staff behind the camera.

“Was my fucking dark blonde hair!! Now hold on before you guys on the internet hate on me, let me explain.”

Hands up in a surrendering position you began “Look I loved that role, the series, the people, Orlando Bloom,..” You winked” but blonde just doesn’t suit me, AT ALL, and keeping that hair as blonde as it can is a freaking nightmare so after I’ve finished wrapping up the last of that film series I told myself never EVER!! Take a role that needed my hair to be dyed.”

-Cut-

“ Is y/n l/n a sagittarius”

Smiling to yourself as you recall a memory, you look down and answered “ Yes, yes I am because as you all know I was born on December 1987- GOSH I’m old” you cut yourself as you’ve registered the words that were said.

“But that is all I can tell you, 'cause I’m not that much into horoscopes or zodiacs or whatever but Pe-“ you cut yourself once again.” But uhmmm, someone once told me that I am the "embodiment" of the Sagittarius sign and that we sagi babes are most compatible with an Aries?? I think”

A small smile was seen on your face as the video cuts to the next question.

-Cut-

“ Are y/n l/n and Pedro Pascal friends”

"Hhmmm are we? I mean we hang out, send tiktoks to each other, and he steals my fuzzy socks a lot….” you nod off while listing all the things Pedro has done to you in the past week, in mind.

“ I guess we are friends? nO, I’m just kidding we are, the best might I add”

You beamed at the lens as you rattled on, “of course we’re friends, we’ve been friends for quite a while now and I thank sister Sarah for that. But yeah, I mean who wouldn’t want to be friends with that guy?”

You once again looked at the staff who was nodding at you to continue.

“ He’s friendly, goofy, a great storyteller, and actor” you winked again that was accompanied by a snort,  “and a great person in general…ah he also shares his empanadas so that makes him an even Better Greater person HAHA!!”

You then throw the board to the ground as you jump out of your seat

-Cut-

“Who does y/n l/n play in Narcos”

“ I play a DEA agent from Barcelona, Spain named Catalina “Lina” Mendoza, she is the love interest of Javier Pena and who is played by the one and only Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal, who is the partner of Boyd Holbrook aka Steve Murphy” proudly you crossed your arms and leaned back in the chair.

-Cut-

“What is y/n l/n first movie”

“Ahh this is a great question, uhmmm my first movie was released way back in ’99 and it’s called the sixth sense. Which was a great experience and opened up my little 11-year-old mind up more into the acting industry.” You answered while thinking back on that more to add.

“ I mean it is a minor role but I got to meet Bruce Willis and act with a very close friend of mine, Trevor Morgan.” You added before looking back at the board.

-Cut-

“What is y/n l/n doing now”

“Since this will be released, I don’t know, a few days or weeks from now I’d try to answer what I would be doing at that time” you scratch your chin as you think of what you would do without saying too much.

“I would either be at home, chilling, drinking wine, while watching a movie OR” you exaggerate, “ I’d be out partying or hanging out with a few friends of mine, yeah I think that’s about it.”

-cut-

“ How can I meet y/n l/n”

Laughing you said, “Well, I’ll probably be in my favourite cafe during my spare time so maybe you guys can drop by and have the courage to say hi,” you tease but was followed by an “I'd rather have you do that instead of taking a, what you think is a discreet, picture of me and the one person I’m with” you ended with a forced smile.

-Cut-

“How old was y/n l/n when Pedro Pascal”

“Guys is this asking what I think it's asking HAHAHAHA” you burst out with a laugh while kind of nervous that you would say something out of line.

“ Well uhm, if you’re asking how old I was when we met, we met through Sarah way back in early 2012 she invited me for a new year's party, so that makes me 24??” You answered with an eyebrow raised.

“ Buuutt,” you dragged.”If you guys are asking about that scene in the second season of Narcos, that you guys are thirsting on about. I would be at around 27 years while shooting that I think. Sooo yeah. Kids don’t ask about those narcos scenes please, better yet don’t watch it until you’re like 25 or 50”

-Cut-

“ How tall is -“

“ No No! I won’t be answering that question yo-“ 

-Cut-

With a huff you looked at the camera, “ I am 5 foot 3....and a half…. On good days I'd be 5'4 and 5'5 with heels. But hey I’m not even that small, the people around me are just giant abnormal-looking non-human beings” you point at the lens

“YES YES IM TALKING TO YOU MISTER PASCAL, so stop teasing me”

-Cut-

“Ooh would you look at that the last question!” 

Ripping the paper as fast as you can it says “Can y/n l/n dance?” 

You noticeably perked up at this but before you can answer a voice came from behind the camera and said “No!”

“ Hey! I mean I’m not a good dancer but I can dance properly you know. I flow with the vibe of the music you know what i’m saying!!! Yeah?”

-Cut-

 You were seen grinning before you were called on camera.

Throwing the board behind you once again you say “ Well WIRED, that was certainly interesting and this might be one of the most... chill... interviews I’ve been on! Can’t wait to do more! Bye!!”

COMMENTS

Fan 1: that was…..entertaining

Fan 2: the slip ups OH MY FUCKING GOD

Fan 3: the way she called out the paps HA serves you right!!

Fan 4: i love how most of the internet asks about y/n and Pedro indirectly. Like girl, we’ve been waiting for years.

Fan 5: Oh so this is the girl, Pedro was seen with the other day. She looks too young, I don’t get why people ship these two, he wouldn’t go for immature younger women. ↳ Fan 4 replied to Fan 5: Girl be fucking for real they've been dating for years now, try to look it up.

Fan 6: I love her friendship with Sarah and Pedro!!! And it looks like she was adopted by Sarah Paulson the same way she did with Pedro HAHAHAH oh and we got crumbs on her hanging out with Pedro with that sharing of food thing

Fan 7: I NEED MORE Y/N CONTENT, SHE IS THE QUEEN, MY LOVE, MY WIFE AND BABY!!!!

Fan 8: so is no one else curious about who said “No” as soon as that dancing question was revealed, cause all I know is that it sure ain’t one of the staff. ↳ Fan 7 replied to Fan 8: HOW THE HELL?? HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT YOU GUYS DON'T KNOW THEY'RE TOGETHER?! I'm speechless

Fan 9: she’s so smiley and goofy in this interview, must’ve had a lot of fun shooting this. ↳ WIRED replied to Fan 9: 👀 about that…. ↳ fan 9 replied to WIRED: why? what’s happening

Fan 10: The sarcasm when asked if Pedro's her friend is killing me😵 ↳ Fan 8 replied to Fan 10: aren't they friends though? ↳ Fan 10 replied to Fan 8: girl go search it up. i just, can't. this is because of his rising fame, everyone doesn't know that much yet. what more if this continues for the years to come.

Fan 11: The comments of old Pedro fans and new Pedro fans are funny.

A/N: so we got a little back story for y/n and her friendship with Pedro and Sarah ahhhh. ay, this doesn't directly follow my last fic, but I wanted to put this out earlier. Just to let you guys know this series follows a timeline I've done so that would explain why there are dates and stuff at the beginning of each fic. That's all, Thank you!! Bye for now.

[sc0tters]

It’s Time | Sidney Crosby

summary: Sidney is sent to Canada as he tries to get you back and the long awaited arrival of peanut finally happens.

request: yes/no

warnings: swearing, legal age gap (reader is 23!)

word count: 3.17k

authors note: peanut is now in our lives and we get the chance to see the semi happy ending for this weird couple! For those of you who aren’t ready to see this story end I’ve made it into a series that you can find under the ‘Crosby x Bedard sister!’ tag, so of course if you want to see some things for that then head to my asks and let your dreams go wild! For those of you who have made it this far in this series, I love you.

part one | previous part

It was like there was a silent competition between you two to see who missed the other more.

34 weeks

What Sidney didn’t think was that when he woke up he’d wake up to a phone call from you. It had been weeks since you last spoke and after trying to desperately call you each day Sidney was beginning to lose faith.

He had been in the gym when your contact info lit up his phone “fuck Bedard, I’ve missed you so freaking-” his words were quickly cut off ”y/n isn’t here you dickhead.” Connor grumbled slamming his bedroom door shut as he had to hide your phone from you.

If you had told Connor that he’d be on the phone to one of his idols growing up like this he would have sworn that you were lying “she refuses to admit that she misses you and as much as she doesn’t need you your kid does.” There was no secret that you were good on your own, it’s the reason why you were single throughout your time working with the Penguins.

Sidney rubbed his face as he listened to what your brother had to say “it’s all good her missing me but she doesn’t want to talk to me.” Sidney pointed out as you hadn’t even opened the text messages that he had sent you.

Connor let out a scoff “she’s stubborn and it’s like worse now that she’s pregnant.” He muttered to himself as he rolled his eyes “point is can you come see her and apologise or not?” He added hearing your voice come from the end of the hallway.

The older boy had to say that he appreciated the way your brother was protective over you “I can be there next week.” Sidney hated that he had training camps the entire week that he couldn’t say no to.

“Con you seen my phone anywhere?”

Your voice rang through the line as you stuck your head into your brothers room.

The younger Canadian player panicked as he hid your phone behind his back “nothing,” Sidney knew he should have listened for longer but truthfully he couldn’t, instead he pulled open his laptop looking to see which flights he could get to come see you.

He was getting his girl, one and for all.

35 weeks

Lounging in the pool of your parents lake house was your personal favourite activity to do especially now that you were heavily pregnant. Laying down on the little pool floatie as you and peanut got the chance to soak up some much needed vitamin D was like your little sanctuary that everyone knew not to bother “y/n someone is here for you!” Connor called out walking back into the house making his way to the porch “tell them I’m busy,” you groaned not wanting any company.

But of course the company had to follow Connor into the house “can we talk Bedard?” Sidney asked clutching to the blanket that you had bought peanut and forgot in Pittsburgh during your effort to leave quickly.

Being full of surprise your body shot up as you looked at him with wide eyes causing you to almost fall off of the float all together “boat,” was all you could get out as you had the keys on the table sat under one of Sidney’s shirts.

There was a collection of those in your closet and it was now all you were living in “hurt her and I’ll hurt you,” Connors warning to Sidney made you laugh as you got out of the water “let’s go before this one gets aggressive.” You teased your brother as you ruffled your fingers through his hair causing him to groan.

The Penguins player felt his heart burst watching the interaction between you and your brother. You seemed at peace with the younger Bedard until you turned to face your coworker “shall we go?” You asked spinning the keys on your finger.

Sidney furrowed his eyebrows as he followed you to the dock “are you sure you should be driving?” His voice was soft when he locked eyes with Betty your boat.

You scoffed looking back at him with a glare “I’m driving a boat, not a fucking mechanical bull.” You grumbled placing your hands on your hips as you continued to walk.

He chewed at his cheek as he realised he had fucked up “look I’m sorry,” Sidney mumbled as he watched you hop onto the boat.

It was a place you had told him so much about during your late nights staying up talking “just get on so we can talk.” You matched his quiet tone as you sighed.

That twenty minute ride to your favourite part of the lake was the longest ride of your life done in total silence “surprised to see you here.” You broke the silence getting up to sit closer to him.

Sidney was surprised when you let your knee hit his “couldn’t sleep knowing you were weren’t happy with me.” He confessed ignoring the way his body felt on fire as your fingers danced over his.

Something that you continued to hate about yourself was the way you were always scared of confrontation “look Sid you can fuck whoever you want really.” You shrugged readjusting the cap on your head “just because I’m having your baby doesn’t mean you owe me anything.” Sure you were hurt admitting that but you managed through most of that pregnancy without him.

He frowned hearing you say that “you’re the girl I want to sleep with,” his words made you laugh “you already did that.” You pointed out pointed to your belly.

The hockey player let a smile form on his face “not like that,” he sighed hooking his hand under your knee as he pulled you closer to him.

You mumbled something under your breath as you placed your hand on his chest “I want you for Monday coffees everyday, I want peanut to grow up in one house and one house only.” It felt like a punch in the gut that he was making this about the baby.

Thankfully nobody else was around as you partially wanted to cry “look if you want me for peanut then I’m happy to simply be friends.” You weren’t happy about that, of course you weren’t but with Sidney making you feel like it was what he wanted you had to accept it.

Sidney wanted you to shut up and listen as he tried to tell you how he felt “I want to do this with you and only you.” His announcement made you smile as your cheeks turned pink.

Part of you couldn’t stand how Sidney made you feel all mushy inside and you fully blamed peanut for this “really?” You giggled as he used his strength to pull you onto his lap.

He laughed as he grabbed your hat and threw it somewhere on the boat “deadly,” the hockey player let his fingers trace along your jaw.

His fingers moved to tuck your hair behind your face “you are really pretty you know that?” Sidney’s voice was deep as you felt his thighs tense beneath you.

In that moment you fully throughly about letting him fuck you senseless -another feeling you were going to blame on peanut- “Sid don’t fuck this up,” you warned letting your nose bump his as you stared at his lips.

You were close to letting out a whimper “promise you I won’t Bedard.” Sidney mumbled moving his fingers to the back of your head as he finally kissed you.

It was slow as he savoured every moment of that kiss like it was going to be the last kiss that he was ever going to get from you.

But of course the universe wasn’t going to let you enjoy the soft feeling of his lips “feel this!” You gasped pulling away to quickly grab his had that you placed on your belly as you pushed your shirt up.

It seemed that peanut wanted to say hello “you feeling neglected now?” Sidney laughed as he looked down to your stomach.

37 weeks

Sidney had been a nervous wreck for the last two weeks “good morning,” you smiled as you walked down stairs giving his lips a peck.

Since that moment in the boat you guys had been in this weird flirting stage where you two happily kissed whenever you were alone “hey Bedard,” he wrapped his hands around your waist as he took in what you were wearing.

You were in this blue bikini that made your boobs look fabulous as they were bigger than ever. It wasn’t helped by the problem where you had your shorts on that couldn’t even be zipper up your belly was that big “peanut behaving?” Sidney asked letting his hands slide down to your belly placing a kiss on it too.

Every morning that’s what Sidney did, a kiss for you and a kiss for her “thinking of going for a ride today,” you announced as you loved driving Sidney’s boat.

It should have made you laugh how Sidney drove the car and you drove the boat (even though he was perfectly capable of driving it, he let you have this one) “I wanted to ask you something first,” Sidney mumbled letting his lips hover over your lips.

You raised your eyebrows waiting for him to reveal what he wanted to say “don’t hold out on me now cap.” You felt your stomach rumble as you hadn’t eaten anything “let’s start with breakfast.” Sidney laughed letting you go as you had your usual thing of berries for breakfast.

A scoff left your lips “you can’t not tell me what you wanted to!” You complained as your lips turned into a pout.

Sidney smiled as his hand cupped the back of your neck pulling you closer to him as he got up “what are you going to do if I don’t?” The hockey player asked licking his lips as he smirked.

Part of you wanted to roll your eyes for playing his game “I wont kiss you anymore,” you announced clicking your tongue as you giggled.

He shook his head “know you like the feeling of my lips way too much.” Sidney swore he was a deadman walking when he saw you push onto your tippy toes to move your lips closer to his.

You frowned when he moved his lips further away from yours “don’t fuck with me when I’m this pregnant with your child Crosby.” You warned deciding that he couldn’t say no if you pulled the I’m carrying your child card.

It warmed the captains heart to be reminded of how you were pregnant with his kid but there was still one thing missing “I wanna date you Bedard.” Sidney confessed causing a grin to break out on your face.

Whilst you wanted to feel silly feeling your heart melt instead you giggled “you getting all soft on me Sid?” You teased seeing his cheeks turn a deep shade of red.

The hockey player let out a playful scoff “you tell anyone you get to see this side of me and I’ll deny it.” He warned bringing his lips down to yours “you think I want to date you?” You asked repeatedly blinking at him.

Safe to say Sidney was lost for words as he didn’t know what to do watching you stand there straight lipped “I’m just fucking with you.” You laughed shaking your head as you pushed yourself onto your tippy toes placing your hand on the back of his neck as you grazed his lips “you’re now my girlfriend, I’m getting more than just that peck.” The hockey player grunted giving your waist a squeeze.

All was going well for you until being pregnant decided to come back and bite you in the ass “wait,” you groaned placing your hand on his chest as you pushed him away from you.

Sidney looked at you with wide eyes “what?” He asked growing concerned “I gotta pee,” you announced drawing a laugh from his lips.

“Who would have thought that my daughter would be my cock block?”

You heard the statement causing you to let out a gasp “you better not be talking badly about my baby Sid,” you warned raising your finger at him letting your hand sit on under your belly.

He leaned against the wall seeing you break out into another giggle “what happened to needing to go to the bathroom?” Sidney asked licking his lips as your face turned into a scowl “forgot about that,” you groaned now heading to the bathroom.

“I got a good one,”

39 weeks

Being with Sidney as his girlfriend it felt like pure pleasure. You guys truthfully used this time to finish up the prep for peanuts arrival “you ready to go?” Sidney asked watching you walk down the stairs as you laughed seeing that the boy had made you one of his signature smoothies, fulled with all of the weird fruits that were apparently good for the baby.

You nodded as you smiled “excited to see your parents,” you mumbled wrapping your hand around the cup as you kissed his lips.

Sidney tried to give you the quietest two weeks leading up to peanuts arrival as he wanted you to have as much relaxation time as you could possibly get. But his mother was one person he couldn’t say no to (you were the other) and now that meant you two were going for breakfast with them “we’re already late,” the hockey player complained looking down at his watch.

It made you roll your eyes “if there is one time that they can be okay with me being late is when I’m this pregnant with their grandchild.” You pointed out sipping at the smoothie as you tucked your hair behind your ear letting the boy take note of how you were in his shirt as well as a pair of his basketball shorts.

He laughed taking the bag from your hand “let’s just make sure that we aren’t any later than we need to be.” Sidney explained walking to the door as you were hot on his tail.

Or at least that was until you felt a sharp pain in your stomach, it was different to the ones that you had been feeling throughout the morning. Of course you refused to tell Sidney because the last thing you needed was him worrying about you as he tried to wrap you in bubble wrap. You knew he didn’t do it intentionally but you had grown tired of watching him stop you from living life, yes you were still mad that he took the keys to the boat away from you.

The sound of the smoothie bottle hitting the floor made Sidney’s blood run cold “you okay Bedard?” He furrowed his eyebrows placing your bag on the ground as you went to help you.

You let out a groan as you clutched your stomach “we’re gonna have to cancel on your parents Sid,” you announced with wide eyes as you shook your head “she’s coming,” you added feeling the cold sensation of water trickling down your thighs as you lifted up the shirt your were wearing to see that there was now a wet patch that soaked your shorts.

Up until he saw the look of panick on your own face Sidney wanted to just about die at the thought of peanut arriving early, sure he was excited to see her. But the idea of actually being a dad to someone was now feeling all too real “let’s go have a baby?” His voice shook as he tried to act like he was ready to do this.

It wasn’t like he had already packed the hospital bags two weeks ago and they had been living in his car, not to mention that he already had the car seat installed too. So when you nodded and squeezed Sidney’s hand trying to avoid the pain that the oncoming contraction was sending you it made him realise that you two were bound to make it through any challenges that peanut sent your way.

39 weeks

Your body was tired as you tried to take a nap. Your mom had warned you about the toll that birthing a child has on someone but you really didn’t think that it was going to be this bad “I know your momma is sleeping right now but when she wakes up I promise that you’re going to love her.” Sidney spoke away to his daughter happily as she cooed at whatever he said to her.

Sidney smiled as he looked up to see you looking at him “hey momma,” the new nickname had you feeling like you were all fuzzy inside.

The hockey player made his way over to you “how you feeling?” He asked placing a kiss on your forehead as he sat next to you.

Nurses had been in and out of your room gushing about how cute the new family was “like I just had a baby,” you mumbled drawing a laugh from Sidney’s lips.

You couldn’t help it when your eyes were drawn to your daughter as she stared at her father “we did good,” you added realising why every parent always said that their babies were adorable because you swore that peanut was the cutest baby you had ever seen.

Sidney looked at you as he smiled “that’s all you baby,” he muttered using his other hand to hook his fingers under your jaw as he pulled you into a kiss.

It was soft letting you shut your eyes melting into it as you forgot that your daughter was in his arms “love you,”you swore his words were sent to the baby so you kept quiet “I see I how it is,” Sidney clicked his tongue causing you to look up at him “talking to me?” You asked looking back up at him.

He threw his head back when he let out a laugh “yeah!” The hockey player exclaimed causing your eyes to light up “I love you too then.” The part of you that wondered if he was saying this because you were now the mother to his child, didn’t care because you were simply so tired.

The hockey player let his fingers dance on your jaw “you know how to make a man feel good,” he mumbled making you laugh “shut up and kiss me.” Peanut watched her parents with big eyes as she smiled like she knew it was the first time that they had said I love you.

Of course that moment was never bound to last when the door bursted open “are you going to let me meet my niece or what?” Connor asked barging into the room causing you to jump away from the older boy.

A grin formed on Sidney’s face watching his family and yours follow in shortly after “wash your hands and then you can meet peanut.” The hockey player announced looking at you for confirmation that you agreed.

“come meet our baby.”

[tartarusknight]

The Fallen King and the King of the Freaks | Part 1

Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Steve didn't have the heart to tell the kids about how Billy didn't back off after Max's threat. Not when they seemed to look up to him for some reason. So, instead, he stayed out of Billy's way as much as he could. But it seemed like the man was hunting him down. It got to the point that Steve dropped basketball.

Steve got used to being slammed into lockers and taunts from the people he used to friends with. So what if he wasn't top dog anymore? So what if he didn't have any friends his own age? So what if Nancy dumped him (ripped his heart out and stomped on it with bullshit)? So what if Billy left bruises on his body with well time jabs and kicks? Steve was an adult he could handle this...

However, as he was shoved into the janitors closet and hearing the lock click behind him, he thought maybe it was getting worse. He slammed his shoulder to the door but it didn't budge and he heard Billy's stupid laughter outside. "Enjoy your alone time, princess," Billy taunted.

Steve slid to the ground and tried not to panic. He wasn't going to freak out just because it's dark and he doesn't have anything to protect himself. He really wasn't going to. He wasn't that much of a loser that he was scared of the dark.

Then he started to cry. He normally was a silent crier, but normally, he wasn't struggling to breathe. He curled around himself and tried not to think of creatures with mouths that took up their entire head and opened like flower petals. Really, he was trying. But Steve just couldn't focus.

There was a soft voice outside the door that shook him from his isolation. "Hey man, you alright?" A dude questioned, and Steve tried to focus so he could answer. "Imma pick the lock, just gimme a minute. I've got ya," the voice was smooth, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't really want to be seen at the moment, but he wanted out more.

The door clicked, and Steve crawled back so it could open. Eddie Munson was crouched there, a few things in his hands that he probably used to pick the lock. The known drug dealer looked frozen in shock at the sight of Steve, and Steve basically plowed into him to get out of the room quickly.

His brain was fried, and he really wanted to cling to Munson and let the calm voice focus him. Instead, he backed off and pressed his back to the wall, hanging his head between his thighs. "Thanks," he mumbled and hid his tear stained face from the other.

"Uh, it's um, not a problem... Usually, I'm helping others after you pick on them, though," Eddie's voice wasn't as soft as it had been. It made Steve wince and curl up tighter on himself. Of course, Munson would hate him...

"Never shoved anyone in janitor closets before," he said instead.

"Ahh, lockers then."

Steve shook his head, "You could really hurt someone doing that. What if no one found them? Or if they passed out or something?" He pointed out and finally looked up at the other boy. Eddie was just staring at him like he's never seen Steve before. "I never wanted to hurt anyone," Steve breathed out, but it came out more snappish than he meant it to.

"Right... so how come King Steve was shoved into the closet?" Eddie questioned and Steve looked away from him. "Did you sleep with someone's girl-"

"Jesus man, I get it! You hate me but can you fucking stop? Not everything that happens to me is my fault, okay?" Steve snapped, and Eddie flinched back. "Fuck, stop acting like I'll hurt you, Jesus. Billy's just an asshole who needs a punching bag, okay? And he learned that he can take he down, okay?" He gestured to the slowly healing bruises on his face.

Eddie was staring at him, "why you?"

Steve scoffed, "cause he can't take it out on his sister anymore? Cause he's an asshole with mommy issues? Or maybe just because he knows I won't fight back! I don't know, I'm not in his brain! I don't know what he thinks when he trips me in the hallway or throws a ball at my head in the gym!"

Eddie blinks and gets up to his feet, but then he holds out his hand in offering. "Come on, man." Steve takes it and lets Eddie pull him to his feet. He's still a little shaky, but he manages to stay on his feet. "I've been known to adopt lost sheep," he's guided away towards the exit and he's so shocked he doesn't fight it.

"Thought you hated me," He points out.

Eddie laughs, "eh, you can just buy me dinner." Eddie pauses for a moment, but Steve is already nodding. It makes Eddie grin, and he throws an arm around his shoulder. "Welcome to the land of the outcasts. Here I'm the king." He gestures to the group of people smoking by one of the picnic benches outside.

"You'll lose a few cool-dude points if you're seen with us," Eddie smiles like it's funny but Steve just feels bad. These were the people he never stood up for. These were the people he never looked at, just ignored.

Steve smiles and looks at Eddie, "you inviting me into the Munson cult?"

Eddie's grin goes sharp, "You gotta earn that. I'm offering you a starting point."

Steve thinks about how lonely he's been and how kind Eddie's voice had been. "So, how do I climb up the ladder? My only skills are giving rides, basketball, and hair."

"Don't forget the Harrington charm," Eddie grins and it's kinder. "Show us yourself, and we'll see from there." He whispers before turning to the group of people.

"Gentlemen, we have a traveler from the halls of royalty! He's come to bless us with his presence!" Eddie's voice is filled with so much emotion. Steve almost misses the way the group tenses up.

Steve might have a while to go before they trust them. But he thinks maybe it could be worth it. Especially as Eddie looks back at him with a smile that makes Steve's stomach flip. "Uh, hey," he smiles awkwardly, wiggling his fingers in greeting.

[l1ndseyper3z]

I really don't know wether I like him or hate him

DATING MARK HOFFMAN HEADCANNONS

[SFW & NSFW] [F!READER]

warnings: Mark being Mark, daddy kink, bondage, age gap (both over 18), praise, degrading, gunplay, public sex, thigh riding, cock-warming, cumming inside, p in v penetrator, eating pussy, sucking cock, petplay, bootlicking, boot grinding, thigh riding, choking, sir kink, master kink, spanking, strong language

you are responsible for your own media consumption. minors dni.

SFW

master of PDA and physical touch

he needs everyone to know that you are his and NOBODY is allowed to even glance at you the wrong way.

if anybody even looks at you for slightly too long he perfectly flexes to expose the gun on his hip

if you're younger than him (which chances are, you are cause idk he gives off younger gf vibes) he is so protective

it does get a bit much sometimes but with the knowledge of his sister you can't exactly blame him

he always plays with ur hair

it grounds both you and him

he has to be big spoon

he likes having control and being able to keep you safe

100% teaches you self-defense

with the shit he sees (and does) he wants you to be able to protect yourself when he's not around

worries that jigsaw will test you

even though you've done nothing to deserve that because you're an absolute angel in his eyes

defo that boyf that follows you around stores carrying all ur bags and clothes

always kissing ur neck and hugging ur waist

he took quite a while to get used to you and begin to trust you because of his sister

will watch all ur fav movies and shows with you but complain the whole time (even tho he's secretly enjoying it)

pet names for you 100% consist of baby doll, baby girl, my girl, my girl, darling and sweet girl

he's so sassy for no reason whatsoever (name a saw dude who isn't???)

can be a bit cruel sometimes

and his ego gets in the way of apologising

when he realises he's fucked up he'll buy you flowers or something

he isn't great with his words so prefers to let his actions speak louder

he tries to like the music you like

if you tell him you relate to a song he'll figure out what it means and read through the lyrics to try and understand you better

THIGH GRIPPER

he so caresses your thighs when he's driving

half the time he dosent even realise he's doing it, it just happens

cooks for you

he so puts his hands in your back pockets

he just does

NSFW

100% gets bricked when you wear his clothes

ROUGH DOM

makes you beg to cum

uses vibrators on you as punishment

call him daddy in bed

just do it

it awakens something in him

will tie you up and use handcuffs on you

edges you

overstimulates you

has made you suck on his gun

or fucked you with his gun

absolute master of sucking pussy

chokes you when you aren't behaving

icl he is quite selfish when it comes to sex

wants you to suck him off all the time

ESPECIALLY IN HIS OFFICE AT WORK

He just loves looking down at your little pathetic tear and spit coated face as you suck on his big fat cock

King of praise and degradation

"look at my pretty little whore, sucking daddys cock so well"

"spread your legs slut"

so forces you to warm his cock when you've been a bad girl

and makes you ride his thigh when you're being a desperate slut

always cums inside you

he's not very vocal but you can get the occasional groan or curse out of him

lasts scarily long

will have sex anywhere, anytime

he has such a high sex drive

why do I get the vibe he has made you grind on his boot before

gags.

collars.

he's a kinky bitch and is probs into petplay of some form

"pups don't talk. now, if you lick daddys shoes clean he might just fuck your desperate little pussy"

just wants to see you panting on your knees below him as you obey his every command

will fuck your little pussy like there's no tomorrow

"good puppy, taking it so well for daddy"

will bend you over his knee and spank you as a punishment

and make you count aloud

and thank him

"now, bratty girls have to be punished, count out loud and be sure to thank master for teaching you how to behave"

"pup, I can't quite hear you, should sir up it to 25 spanks?"

his aftercare is okay

cuddles, water and maybe a shower but thats pretty much it

I'm sorry this turned out to be utter filth 😭

[xoxoavenger]

So Scarlet (It Was Maroon)

pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N likes to romanticize her relationship with Luke, much to the anger of everyone around her. Percy wants to remind her of the rose colored glasses, he just doesn't know how.

word count: 3076

warnings: some angst

part 1

birthday celebration main masterlist

Y/N may be going crazy.

At least, that's what everyone thinks is going on. But they would never say that to her face. Not because they're scared of her, but they are scared of what Percy will do will if he caught them. For some reason, Percy had adopted her as his older sister and even though Luke had tried to kill him, he felt bad for Y/N. He had watched as Luke brought the sword down on her head, watched Y/N's heart break as she poured herself out to him. He knew she must be in pain, must be hurting. The wound was still fresh, having only taken place a couple weeks ago. 

But she was driving him insane with all her memories, and he was going to explode soon.

She didn't always say it out loud, didn't always reminisce with everyone, but they all knew what was going on. Today she had decided to tell them, since it was just him and two of her siblings in the stables, and Percy has been reminding himself all day that not only is Y/N a woman but also a counselor, so if he punches her he'll just cause more problems. Oh, and she's in pain already, another good reason not to punch her. 

"One time," Y/N starts, and Percy has to clench his teeth to keep the sigh back. He'll punch anyone else who sighs, though. They're in the stables, cleaning up with Silena and her other sister Allegra. "Luke and I snuck out to the stables and spent the night here." She's smiling as she says it, and Percy steals a look over at Silena. She's pursing her mouth and raking, so Percy decides he shouldn't say anything either.

"Don't you have hay fever?" Allegra tries to remind her, but it's like Y/N can't hear her. It's probably for the better, to just let her finish this story and they can all get on with their lives.

"The cleaning harpies don't come in here, so they didn't bug us, and none of the campers wanted to come out here either that late. It was one of those nights when the Northern Lights were visible - that's only happened once in all the time that we've been at camp." Y/N is still working on cleaning, and Percy wants to rake his eyes out.

"Did you freeze your ass off?" He snarks, not able to keep his mouth shut. She turns to him, snapping her head. He feels bad, but he could not stand her talking about Luke any longer.

"It was last September at Camp Half-Blood. The weather was great." She snarks, but she's clearly gotten the memo to shut the fuck up about Luke. Percy freezes, because he thought this was recently.

"Last summer?" He mutters, pausing his work. He and Annabeth were the only two that knew Y/N and Luke weren't actually dating; they weren't sworn to secrecy but they both knew it would be better if no one else found out. But according to Annabeth, they had only been dating a couple months when Percy showed up, so why was she talking about something that happened before they were dating.

"You spent the night with him before this summer?" Silena has also paused her work, but Y/N doesn't look at any of them, just keeps working.

"Spent the night? What are you talking about?" Percy feels so lost and he hates that feeling.

"You didn't hear?" Allegra asks, and now she's not working either. "For the past month, Luke was sneaking into the cabin to sleep with Y/N."

"Yeah, and she hasn't slept since." Y/N throws her rake down, stomping out of the stables, clearly angry. The other three watch as she leaves, her hand coming up to wipe her tears.

"Maybe because she has a head injury from the bottom of Backbiter." Percy snaps, going back to his work.

"Thank God we don't have to worry about Luke sneaking in anymore." Allegra mutters, and Percy tries to take a deep breath because he's not Y/N's sibling and he just made fun of her.

"She's not sleeping, so it's not a great solution anyway." Percy settles on, ignoring Silena's side eye.

~

"What do you think will happen after Camp?" Luke muttered into her hair. They're laying on a blanket on the beach, Luke's arm around her shoulders so she had a nice pillow for her head. She was holding his hand, rubbing her thumb up and down his skin.

"After camp?" She mutters, the setting sun and the warmth from summer making her tired. She ships to lay more against his chest, letting go of his hand as he moves it down to her waist.

"Yeah. We have to leave eventually." Luke tells her, rubbing his fingers up and down her arm. She throws her own over him, lazily rubbing circles around his clothed ribs. This is supposed to be for show, but she's not sure who's looking.

"I don't like thinking about that." Y/N sighs, frowning. She doesn't know what to do without Camp; sure, she's done schoolwork, she knows more than most high schoolers do, all thanks to Chiron's rigorous classes. Because there weren't many people during the school year, they would trade off days of actual teaching and free days of homework. She really didn't want to go to college or get an actual job.

"We have to leave at some point." Luke tells her, and she shutters.

"Can we talk about something else?" She asks, opening her eyes into the sun and looking into him.

"Sure." He can tell it's agitating her, so he shuffles a little and closes his eyes as looks up at the sky. "What's your favorite flower?"

"Lavender roses." She answers quickly. She waits for a second, knowing Luke will ask another question. "You don't remember the rose class I taught you?" She smirks. A couple weeks ago while they had overseen arts and crafts she had been painting roses. Luke hadn't even known there was different colored roses, and being the daughter of Aphrodite she had taught him all about each meaning.

"Red is love," He names off, and she nods against him. "Yellow is friendship. White is innocence." He pauses, and she knows that he has just named off the easy ones that he knows.

"Alright, so purple is different than lavender, remember that? Purple is still pretty, it's passion and infatuation. But lavender is unique love." She's smiling at the thought of someone giving her these roses, of Luke giving her these roses.

"Unique love." Luke repeats, nodding his head. "I'll remember that." He tells her, but she shakes her head.

"You will? Because I already told you once and you didn't remember." She giggles. He shakes her, moving so both his arms around her now. She shifts to be more comfortable, and she's sure she could fall asleep.

"No, I'll remember this time." He kisses her head, and she once again wonders if there's someone around or if he's doing this for her.

She wonders if there will ever be a day when she doesn't have to ask that question.

She wakes up, in the middle of a deep breath. Her heart is racing, and she has to remind herself with a reach of her hand that Luke left. He's gone now, and he's not coming back. He clearly didn't want to take her with him, and if she would have even gone is another question she doesn't know the answer to.

She gets up and puts on a sweatshirt, a camp one that's Luke's but no one will know it's Luke's. She takes a deep breath, trying not to cry over the fact that the sweatshirt is starting to lose his scent. It's the last thing she has of his, not wanting to take anything from his siblings and cause a scene. She's just lucky Annabeth and Percy didn't tell anyone that it was all fake.

Her mother hasn't been back to visit, and she's not sure if it's a good or bad thing. She doesn't want to talk to the goddess, knowing that all the conversation will accomplish was Y/N's embarrassment and making her even more upset than she already was. What was the point of talking to her mom when she knew that something was going on with Luke? She had to know that they lied, had to know that it was fake.

Yeah, it was probably good her mom hadn't come to visit.

She was wearing nice slippers, so she didn't walk to the beach. Instead she walked to the fields where the flowers grew. It was cool, not cold and not as dewy as a normal morning but still wet. She stood in the field a slight breeze making her shiver slightly.

"What are you doing?"

She turned quickly, heart beating fast. Her mother was standing in the field, somehow glowing even though the sun hadn't risen. Y/N didn't know what time it was, but the sky was still dark, so she knew it was early.

"Do not disrespect me right now, Y/N." Her mother snaps, and Y/N's eyes widen. She hasn't even said anything and her mother is already mad at her. "What are you doing out here?"

"I couldn't sleep." She answers. Aphrodite makes a face, and Y/N doesn't know what she said wrong but clearly she said something wrong.

"If this is about the son of Hermes," Her mother turns her head, as if in disgust, and Y/N sighs.

"I thought you liked tragic love stories." She says it without thinking, as if her mom were a normal person. As if her mom weren't a goddess.

"This wasn't a love story at all!" Aphrodite yells, and Y/N shrinks back. She looks away, trying to keep the quick rising tears back.

"It was to me." She whispers. She can't help it; everyone seems to forget that she was in love with Luke, that he broke her heart and she can't just snap back from that. Her mother's words cut deeper than a knife, slicing her heart open.

"What?" Her mom asks, not expecting this much talkback. No one says these things to gods, even if the gods are their parents. Especially to Aphrodite. Her children generally praise her.

"I was in love!" She screams, not caring if she wakes everyone up. Her mother started this, and she will finish it. It's all her mom's fault anyway; if she hadn't had the stupid rule for her children, none of this would have happened. "It was a love story because I was in love. It doesn't matter what it started out as or that it ended with my heart broken instead of his. I'm sorry I let you down. Is that what you want to hear?" She's breathing heavily, staring at her mom. Aphrodite might as well be a statue with how frozen she is, and Y/N thinks her own mother is going to kill her right now.

It might just be worth it to have gotten that off her chest.

"Who do you think you are?" Aphrodite whispers lowly, moving closer to Y/N. She tries not to shrink back, but it's hard. She's not afraid, but for a moment she thinks of Luke. The thought of never seeing him again, not having the chance if she dies right here. She closes her eyes, but everything goes still. After a moment, she opens them to see her mom looking down at her with concern and some unreadable emotion. "Why did you lie to me?" Her mom surprises her with that question.

"I didn't think someone could fall in love with me in four months." She says quietly, looking down at the ground. She pulls the sleeves of Luke's sweatshirt over her hands. "And the thought of breaking some innocent guy's heart? I mean, it's a little outdated, Mom." She tries to joke, but Aphrodite just stares.

"He was in love with you." The goddess says, causing Y/N to shake her head. "Really, you're gonna go against me? Your mother, a goddess?" Y/N gives a small smile.

"He left." She says, voice cracking with emotion. She shakes her head again, wiping her face. She doesn't know when the tears fell, but her face is wet. "I should get back to my cabin. Thanks for," Y/N doesn't know why Aphrodite came to Camp Half-Blood, why she visited in person, and she honestly isn't sure she appreciates it. But she walks past her mom, leaving the goddess behind her in the field.

"Don't give up hope yet." Y/N's not sure what her mom means by that, but she doesn't turn around, knowing her mom is going to turn into her true form to leave. The gold light washes over her, and all she can think about is if her mom meant on Luke or on love.

~

"My mom visited me this morning." Y/N says to Percy as they get their food. Traditionally, campers were supposed to get their meals and eat at specific tables with their cabin members only, but Percy didn't have any and Y/N was lonely, so she had got Mr. D to allow them to eat together. Chiron wasn't thrilled when he found out, being a stickler for the rules, but they all knew he wouldn't police where they ate. They settled for a couple stares across the pavilion every day during meals.

"In person?" Percy asks, grabbing a premade sandwich from the tray. Y/N had told him all about her mother's visits when they had first gotten close, so Percy knew how rare and scary an in person visit was.

"Yeah. I don't know why she came, but I got the feeling I had embarrassed her with Luke." Percy bit back a groan. He hated talking about Luke, but it seemed to be Y/N's favorite thing. He felt bad enough that he couldn't tell her to shut up (yet), but it was getting on his nerves.

"What'd she say?" Percy asks as they head to their table, the only completely empty one beside the Zeus table.

"She told me it wasn't a love story, so I yelled at her. I mean, who does she think she is?" She complains, setting her food down across from him. He feels his heart rate spike as he struggles to reign himself in.

"Do you think maybe she was trying to protect you?" He asks, not even able to take a bite of his food yet. He's not sure why he's trying to get Y/N to see the error in her thinking, when she seems to just get more delusional as time goes on.

"From what?" Y/N scoffs, tensing. Percy can tell this is going to be a fight.

"Luke," He says, as if it's obvious. Y/N squints and shakes her head.

"Why would she need to protect me from Luke?" She asks, leaning back. "I mean, when we were dating, he-"

"It wasn't real!" Percy screams, getting everyone's attention. He didn't want to do this here, but he can't take it anymore. It's like she's somehow convinced herself that their relationship was perfect. She's made Luke into a different person in her mind. Or maybe Percy just thinks he's a villain because he tried to kill him and is trying to overthrow the gods, but that's more solid reasoning in his mind than Y/N's.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Y/N warns lowly, not wanting a scene. Her cheeks are flush, because there's no way no one is going to know after this. Everyone will know.

"I was there, Y/N. He tried to kill me. He tried to kill you!" He argues, and watches as Y/N takes a deep breath. He had watched Luke grab her, watched him hit her with the bottom of his sword and let her fall to the ground. He had stood there in fear as Luke stepped over her lifeless body. That isn't love; it can't be love. He has to get it into her head, but he doesn't think even this will.

"I was there too, Percy. And my mom told me that his heart was broken. I'll believe the feelings more than I believe a couple words from a broken heart." She gets up, leaving her plate untouched, and walks out of the pavilion. Percy watches her, along with every single other camper who has stopped what they're doing to watch the fight ensue. He looks over to Annabeth, who is looking at him with a frown. He hangs his head, knowing he messed up.

Percy takes a deep breath and gets up to go find Y/N and apologize, but Annabeth is suddenly at his side, hand on his shoulder.

"Let her have some time. That was a lot. I'm sure she'd like to be alone." She says it with a smile, but Percy knows it's his fault and he knows Annabeth blames him too.

"I'm sorry." He mutters, putting his head into his hands.

"I know you are." She tells him, sitting on the bench but not removing her hand. "But she needs time. It was a lot to process." And her mom probably didn't help either, Percy thought, but he didn't want to tell Annabeth about it. He couldn't betray Y/N like that.

"Hopefully she'll be okay." Percy sighs, watching Y/N disappear into the woods.

"She will." Annabeth squeezes his shoulder and then moves to her own table, leaving him alone.

He wishes he had more patience, but he was not known for his patience. It would be fine. He'd apologize when Y/N came back, and he'd have a conversation about not bringing Luke up at every moment.

It would be fine.

Meanwhile, Y/N was stomping through the woods. She knew she was annoying, that everyone was tired of her talking about Luke, but she never expected Percy of all people to get angry with her. She definitely didn't expect him to call her out in front of all the campers.

She was deep in her thoughts when she heard a crack in front of her. Her heart dropped, because even in the middle of the day she was still scared. She had been looking down when she was walking, angry and making sure she wasn't going to trip or step on anything.

When she looks up he's there, holding lavender carnations. Everything stops, her stomach dropping and heart in her throat. She doesn't want to believe her eyes, but then he steps forward.

"They didn't have any roses."

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler (also thanks to the comments from @jadahxx and @commanderfreethatdust who commented on the last fic asking for a part 2 sorry its angst <3)

[teyamsgrl]

how sorry i am ✧ lo'ak

❗️MDNI ❗️

OKOK lo'ak is ofc our sweet baby but the idea of enemies to lovers with lo'ak just 🦋🦋🦋 / i hope you all enjoy!! just look at his lil mean face above >:(

°˖➴ warnings: fem metkayina reader, enemies to lovers, agedup!lo'ak, mean!lo'ak, sub!lo'ak, blood mention (not sex related), slight angst, slow burn??, body worship, oral f receiving, some nipple play - paskalin: honey

lo'ak being your brother's best friend was quite the shit position. ever since lo'ak and his family joined the metkayina people a year ago he has despised you, very publicly as well. anytime he saw you, he teased you, talked down to you, etc. he made you feel shitty, but here's the catch: you had an undeniable crush on him. as much as you wanted to deny the fact, you just couldn't. it was something about how you saw him with other people, observing how he really is. how he took care of his little sister and was always willing to help others out. you knew he harassed you for a specific reason; what it was you had no idea. you still acted hostile towards him to keep your true feelings covered, plus it was unfair to let him treat you like this without retaliation.

"lo'ak's staying over" you brother says as he enters your pod late in the evening, lo'ak trailing behind him. you roll your eyes, "great..", you glance up quickly to take in lo'ak's appearance. pretty. "trust me, i'm not pleased about seeing you either" lo'ak scoffs and takes a seat on your brother's cot, taking his bow off of his back. you continue cutting the fruits scattered around you on the woven mat, tossing them into a bowl afterwards. you go to slice the next one in half, accidentally nicking one of your fingers. "ouch.." you mumble, looking down to see the pearl of blood on your finger. you wipe it on a nearby rag, catching lo'ak's eyes on you. "awwww, can't handle a little cut?" he teases, pouting at you. "shut up" you mumble again, moving back to continue cutting, making sure the blood didn't get anywhere else. "can't even cut fruit properly, damn" he smirks watching your eyes narrow in anger. sometimes you wish your brother did something to defend you, but he probably just accepted that you and lo'ak hated each other and it would always be that way. you ignore his comment, "always knew you were a bit incompetent but shit, that's bad" he chuckles mockingly, causing anger to bubble up inside of you. you may secretly like him but he is a dick. you throw down the large fruit in your hand and the knife, standing up and rushing out of your pod. you had it with him, and yourself. what kept drawing you to him? and why couldn't you turn it off? you turn and run past all the other marui, feet hitting the sand as you exhale. you approach the water, about to call your ilu before you hear a voice calling you, "y/n! wait!"

you scoff as you recognize the voice right away, "just leave me alone, lo'ak" you state firmly, back facing him as he comes closer. "y/n" he places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to face him. the ecstatic feeling that ran through your body was indescribable, he had never touched you before, even when passing by. you turn to come face to face with him, your eyes gazing up into his. "i'm sorry-" he mumbles, his amber eyes blank and searching yours. "sorry? you're sorry? after a year of harassing me you're suddenly sorry? i bet my brother made you do this..." you sigh and bring your hands to your head, tugging your braids gently out of frustration. "he didn't, i swear-" you cut him off again, feelings bursting out of your mouth without a second thought. "yeah sure, lo'ak, i doubt it. what made you feel so bad today? instead of yesterday or the day before? fuck- you have never felt bad about making fun of me before, and it's so stupid that i don't just avoid you because of my... because-" you stop yourself before you go too far off the edge and are unable to turn back. "because of what?" he inquires, you have never heard his voice so gentle towards you before. "because i like you, okay?! i like you too much for my own good and i hate the fact that i do!" you scream, tears forming in your eyes as you realize what you've just admitted. you take a deep breath in, unable to release it before lo'ak's lips are on yours, kissing feverishly. you gasp and pull away, trying to figure out if that actually just happened. "don't- don't do that just to mess with me, please" he shakes his head immediately, denying your accusation. "i'm not, i'm genuinely sorry about everything i've said to you. i don't know why i did it, probably projecting my own shit but- i like you too, so much. i just want to make it up to you, if you'd even let me.." you notice how his tail is moving, softly moving left and right as if in anticipation. you nod at his words, trying to comprehend his side of things. "i'm willing to forgive you. you'll most definitely have to prove it, but i'm willing to. and willing to become more eventually… if you'd want that", a small smile pulls itself onto your lips. "thank you..." he smiles back and reaches for your hips, "let me make it up to you, show you how sorry i am, please. how much i feel for you..."

you breathe shakily as he sinks to his knees, bending to start at your ankle and place delicate kisses up your leg. your run your hand along his cheek as he moves to repeat the actions on your other leg. "you're so beautiful, so beautiful..." he whispers and stands back up, kissing along your jaw now. you sigh in delight and tilt your head to allow him to continue. he smiles against your skin and moves down your neck and the middle of your chest. "can i take it off?" he questions as his hands run behind your back to the tie of your top. you nod and shiver as he removes it, the evening air grazing your nipples, breasts perky and freckles glowing. "shit.." he breathes and kisses his way to your nipple, flicking his tongue over it once to test the waters. the whimper that leaves your mouth says enough as he sucks it into his mouth. "l-lo'ak" you stutter out as his warm mouth has your nipple encapsulated, your thighs pressing together to relieve the arousal beginning to pool.

he releases it with a pop, kissing to the other. "i just wanna worship your fucking body.. never seen someone prettier" you whine at his words as he sucks the other nipple into his mouth, tongue rolling around it and toying with it. your hands weave their way into his hair, tugging on his braids as another whine escapes your lips. he hums and unlatches again, hands lingering over your loincloth. "wanna taste.. wanna make you feel good... please", he almost whimpers the sentence out, "yes, lo'ak, yes". he unties your loincloth and helps you step out of it, moving to his knees again. he licks his lips and looks over your wet pussy, his head leaning on your stomach. "tell me what you want, please princess, i just wanna please you..." he kisses your stomach and awaits a response from you, his ragged breaths tickling your stomach.

"mouth, mouth..." you look down on him as he places one of your feet on his shoulder, giving him the perfect angle to dive in. which he does. his tongue makes it's first move against your clit, eager bud pulsing under his tongue. you moan and toss your head back, your hips fervently pushing against his tongue. he moves further, tongue delving into your tight and dripping hole. "that's good, that's so good-" you gasp and keep yourself steady by your grip on his braids. he hums into you, the vibrations bringing you even more pleasure. his mouth never falters, licking and sucking and kissing all over your pussy. he shifts away to breathe quickly, "you taste so sweet, even better than i would've thought. so beautiful, i wanna be down here forever" he whines out and moves back in, nose nudging your clit as his tongue glides around and in your hole again. he takes note of your demeanor change, breathing more heavy and hip movements more aggressive.

"you're close, baby. fuck my face, use me. just feel good... i got you" he mumbles as he brings a couple fingers to stroke your clit at a fast pace, desperate to bring you to an orgasm. your eyes roll back as you hold his braids tighter, grinding onto his tongue and into his fingers. "oh great mother- i'm- lo'ak i'm gonna-" you squeal as he frantically rubs your clit, removing his mouth so he can coax you through it. "that's it, you're so perfect, i got you, so perfect... just let go" he moans softly as your orgasm snaps in you, cum flowing out of you as his tongue retreats back into your pussy to collect what he can. your chest is heaving as your legs wobble, mind out of sorts at the fact that lo'ak who 'hated' you just hours ago confessed to you and made you cum.

he helps your leg down, holding you close as he stands back up. "there we go..." he says as you instantly hug around his waist. "thank you, lo'ak" you look up to catch his eyes which are now glowing softly. "no need to thank me, it's the least i could do. you know, to apologize and prove myself to you, all that. i will be doing that very often, if you'll let me" he holds your face in his sizable hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. "well, that was amazing honestly.. and yes, i want to please you sometime as well..." your one finger trails down to his waistband and plays with it. "mhmmm, but you're my first priority always, and i'm gonna start acting like it. no more mean guy..." he sighs, clearly ashamed of how he's acted this past year. "it's alright, paskalin... let's spend the day together tomorrow? i want to show you a special place" you rest your head on his heart, hearing the rapid beats. "i'd really like that" he smiles and rests his chin on your head, basking in your loving presence.

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ l went through like a fuck ton of shit [Broke up with my boyfriend of two years, entrance exam, and uh I lost some friends] and 2024’s barely started lol sorry for the late update, i am,,, extremely deep in hurting 👍

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @adorefavv @l0starl @your-girl-mj @nyumeii @iheartamajiki @yoluv-tiannaaa--212 @bakauwu @callsignwidow

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Miles and Eddie make an exchange. A certain nightmare plagues his thoughts. Your insanity unfolds, and so does Miles’ suspicions.

[Warning: Blasphemy, mentioned of fucked up things and crimes, deranged thinking]

MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

“Miles, what would make you hate me?”

The memory was so long ago. Well, to be exact, perhaps it’s been a month or two since it happened. Miles could still so clearly remember the way you leaned your head against the damp wall, your eyes far off into the void of whatever haunted you. At that time, his feelings had been but a spark budding within his chest ever so delicately, a butterfly ripping out of its cocoon in his stomach.

“I don’t know.” Miles whispered into the air. “I don’t think it’s possible to truly hate a person when you know them personally.”

At that moment, you looked at him, with your head half-buried within your hood.

“Why’s that?” You asked, fiddling with the ends of your hoodie.

Miles took a moment to think about how to word his answer.

“When you recognize someone enough to know that they’re not evil people who’d do random shit for shits and giggles, you learn to realize that they’re not really a monster.. At least, not as much as they seem.” His lingering gaze travels towards the ample of your cheek. “I can’t hate you when I know you. You’ve got a name, and you’re somebody’s sister, daughter.. Well, you don’t have to be all that. You just need to be somebody, and you’re somebody to me, and that alone’s the reason why I can never hate you.”

“That’s.. Interesting.” You whispered. “So technically, you humanize your enemies.”

“That’s one weird way to put it, but yeah.”

“But what if it’s a façade?” The words rolled off your tongue seamlessly. “What if.. They’re not exactly the person you thought they were. What if they’ve done more harm than good?”

He thinks about it for a moment.

“It’s not my job to humanize people. People humanize themselves.” Miles answered. “If there’s truly nothing at all about this person that makes them human, or makes me feel like they still have a relatively active conscience inside of them.. I can’t.”

“So you’re saying thay if they’re not human, you’ll hate them?”

“No!” He rapidly shook his head.

“No, ‘cause Miles, I’ll be fair with you. Ion think there’s anything more monstrous than humanity. We are our own enemies. Nothing else causes more pain to a human other than its own body or its own kind, which is why hatred is such a natural thing.”

“Hatred is a natural thing for you, because you grew up only having to think about yourself.”

“Because if not me, then who would?” You spewed. You didn’t mean to sound overtly bitter, but you were. “Unlike you, Miles, my family ain’t the shit. It’s me against the world always— I-If, had I gotten a remote opportunity to care about anyone other than myself, maybe I wouldn’t be this hateful.”

“Well, you got a chance now.”

“How so?”

“You got me.”

You paused, wondering if you’ve heard correctly.

“… I’ve got you?”

Whatever did that statement mean? You’ve heard about a million pick-up lines, but what the hell was this?

“F’course you do. We’re friends.”

Friends.

“Friends?” Just friends?

Miles hums. “Buddies. Amigos.”

Ah, right, that’s how it always starts. Just friends.

Miles snuck his hand into one of his pockets, plucking out something round that you were too lost in your haze to even notice. He seems to fiddle with it for a moment, digging his fingers into its plush before nudging it towards you.

“You want some?”

You turned around and realized he’d peeled you an orange. “.. What.. These are so expensive these days. How’d you even get one?” Your hand reaches out for the fruit, examining its tiny size. You’d heard about the sudden inflation of prices, so fruits inevitably turned into a luxury for most. Miles parts the mandarin and places the larger half on top of your hand.

“.. I stole one from my neighbor’s garden. God did say generous people prosper, so I did him a favor.”

“I’m pretty sure there was a ‘thou shall not steal’ in one of the commandments, Miles.” You laughed, plopping a piece atop your tongue. The tangy, sweet, yet sour flavor bursts right in, making you grimace ever so lightly. “Oh, that’s sour.”

Miles took after you, similarly cringing. “Eugh.”

“It’s probably not all that ripe yet. It’s fine though,” You plopped another into your mouth. “I like oranges— sour things as a whole. They snap me back into life.”

“That sounds sad.” He mumbled, turning to look at you. “Kinda worrying, if you ask me.”

“Well, I wasn’t asking.” You plucked out one of the seeds from your teeth.

“Right, ‘cause you never ask.” Miles took another bite. “You only answer.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” Miles shrugged. “I like saying random shit to tick you off.”

You rolled your eyes, trudging your way up from the floor as you staggered from the cold. “Thanks for the orange, Miles.” Running a hand through your hair, you looked out and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel surprised at the lack of your sass.

“You’re welcome, princesa.”

Your brow cringed. “Don’t call me that.”

His finger twitches. He watched as you froze for a moment, turning to look at him. With gentle steps, you approached and leaned down— tufts of your hair brushing against the temple of his forehead. At that moment, he swallows while taking in the scent of your perfume and its ridiculously sweet stench. How could everything about you be so sweet?

You plucked your pen out of his hands. “This is mine.” You reminded of him. Miles didn’t utter a single word til’ your eyes met. Even in the darkness, you saw, but you ignored— well, rather, you tried to ignore it, but it stung.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Miles turned his head, forcibly pushing down the butterflies fluttering like haywire in his stomach.

Hands clammy, heart haywire, eyes unable to meet yours.

“Sure, whatever.”

That day ended there, but Miles knew then. He knew.

Eddie Brock couldn't look past the television store, as his eyes were drawn completely to the news. Not that he couldn't afford a paper, or a gadget of his own— he was simply nervous, figdety, and this ominous pit that holed itself into his stomach unnerved him like a pig carved up for the butcher. He'd known of the news already, honestly, something along the lines of the daily murders and crimes that weren't all too unusual to be fair, and rather than the screen's bright technicolored themes, he was hyper focused entirely on one thing.

The face of Will Barlowe, the almighty senator. Eddie had long been staring at that man's creased, brown skin and slick, blonde hair that was fading into this falsified shade of platinum all because of his whitening strands.

Damn the rich, all of them.

Eddie was no one, like everyone else. A drop of water in the ocean, a needle in a haystack. He was one, like the rest, with the hard workers who carried the economy with their white, blue, pink-collared jobs. He thrived, initially, three years ago. He was an activist then— a journalist in a crisp collared shirt and black dress pants, warning the young about the dangers of climate change, and speaking outwardly in regard to politics.

Now, he was nothing more but a wrinkled jacket-wearing, eccentric and amusing conspiracy theorist scraping the tiniest bits of his dignity to post videos on Facebook or Youtube shorts about how fucked up and dystopian America's grown to become.

When the Prowler, the younger one, decidedly linked him a location allegedly shared by the elites, Eddie wanted to think of it as a chance to shine, to end everything once and for all, and to avenge Anna. For Anna, and for what could’ve been their happy, serene life. But when he arrived, painstakingly clad in plaid while forging the identity of a lost tourist, he was disappointed entirely to find out that the warehouse had been burnt down.

He could still recall the charcoaled crevices of what could’ve been his salvation— that masked boy, the Prowler, promised him salvation in a what-could’ve-been some rich guy’s attempt of a house barbecue.

“Did I make ya wait long?”

A voice reminiscent of a growl. That same shade of neon magenta lingered, popping like a change of color in the melancholy of great Harlem. Eddie tries not to look, but the presence of the boy simmered like fire even as he hung like a spider from the ceiling. He was always like that— the Prowler. The boy was a tall, lanky thing who walked and talked suave. Dominican, he initially assumed. Eddie figured this little vigilante was likely a high schooler with hopes consequently dimmed by the recession.

“Nope.” Eddie attempted to appeal cooly, instead, he only crumbled more. “I’d been watching the news this whole time, tryna check if there was anything about the fire.”

He hears a metal click. “They prolly wouldn’t say nothin’. See, if they didn’t wanna hide it, it’d be all over the television. But it ain’t there, so that means the Chávez’s are hiding the fire from the other families. They prolly paid the witnesses to keep their mouths shut or bribed all the television networks to say it’s some barbecue party gone bad.”

A few passersby couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of the infamous vigilante hanging from a store sign, but they all seemed to know better than approaching him. Trouble was wherever he was, after all, or something the daily bugle said along those lines. They shared glances, sure. Curious, amused glances like how people would marvel at a lion in a zoo.

“It’s,” Eddie finally looked at him. “it’s something ‘bout the Chávez’s?”

With a momentary pause, the Prowler released his grip from the metal poles and dangled down for a second before decidedly letting his feet hit the ground. He was tall— truly, around an inch or two taller than grouchy Eddie. His braids seemed much longer than he’d last seen them. Did he recently get them redone?

“.. That’s right.” Prowler hummed. “.. But we might wanna move some place else to have this conversation, Mr. Brock.”

And where the cat went, curiosity followed down as it made its way to the dark alleyways.

Eddie had a million questions, like any other normal being. The Chávez’s, the Primos, the Barlowes, the Fisks, the Osborns, and all of the other wealthy families connected to one another were all listed down on his kill bill naturally, and he’d been dreaming about the day of crossing out their names with ink made from their blood. Cliché, but a threat either way. Eddie wasn’t a writer, but a journalist anyways. Creativity in terms of wording his hatred was limited and it wasn’t his forte.

“In your past facebook post, you mentioned the Chávez’s briefly,” The boy began, halting by the corner dampened by rain. “I need information about the whole family.”

“… Aren’t you supposed to know the basic information about your enemies?”

“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be needing your help.” The two white shapes that proxied as his eyes narrowed, grimacing ever so lightly. “There’s little information about them in the black market, and within the scarcity, most of them aren’t factual.”

“They’re rich enough to be able to squander their wealth on silencing people,” Eddie kicked at a can. “Of course no one knows, but I do.”

“How so?”

Picking at something in between his cheek, Eddie sighed a long sigh.

“… My wife worked as their private attorney.”

He watched the boy take a step back. “.. Your wife?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “My wife, Anna. She was taught to keep silent about their crimes, and to find a loophole in every case.” A lump formed in his throat.

The Prowler stared. He couldn’t make out whether it was an empathetic or judgmental one. “.. So your wife covered up the Chávez’s crimes?”

“A part of it.” Eddie mumbled. “There’s more to the elite than we know, Anna had to burn her files after every case, so she couldn’t snitch or post them after she quits.”

His head turns. “… I see.”

He sees the boy shift, weirdly, fidgety. He couldn’t particularly describe the unease this young vigilante conveyed. It was almost like he was on the verge of asking something, but his mask made it harder to read what he was desperate to know about.

“.. So can you tell me?”

A simmering silence sunk into the gaps of their conversation.

“What’s in it for me?” Eddie asked, knowing he shouldn’t have, as it was obvious and painstakingly accusatory.

“Why do we have to have transactions when it comes to justice?”

Eddie paced. “Capitalism.”

“Fair point.” The Prowler sighed, rocking on the ends of his neon shoes. “Well, what d’ya want?”

Eddie thinks, and thinks. What could a conspiracy theorist— no, a journalist want? Could he ask for a man’s death? The head of Barlowe? The head of Chávez? Or could that only be achieved after this gamble? He looked at this boy, and Eddie pictured this teenager basking his hands in blood.

What would make him any different from the elites?

“… When you went to the warehouse, you guys.. Took evidence? Even a USB, right?”

He stared. “Yeah, we dug it up and we tried sending it to every news outlet we could find.. All of them rejected the information.”

“Why?” Eddie furrowed his brow. “Was the information incomplete? Did you send the evidence beneath a credible name as a source?”

“Credible name?”

“Yeah, if the information comes from a credible source, they might do something about it. Likewise, if the information is complete, they might take the risk, after all, the Chávez’s are old money, and they have a lot of influence in regard to politics. If they publish anything against them, without complete information, or if you’re just a bunch of trespassers regarded as criminals by the media,” Eddie held out a finger. “Someone will get shot.”

The boy swallowed.

“If not you, if not your partner, it’s the journalist. Always the journalist.”

And Eddie’s seen too much of his co-workers wound up as mere victims in a headline. ‘Journalist shot dead.’

And he didn’t want his name to be reduced to a John Doe in one of the many causes people are too afraid to fight for.

“… I’ll tell you all about the Chávez’s, if you give me the records you stole from the warehouse.”

The Prowler stood, seemingly caught up in his thoughts for a moment. “.. Okay, but I’m telling you, don’t make a large move without consulting me first.”

“I still want my head attached to my head, of course I’ll consult y’all first.” Eddie chuckled, his fingers pouring into his pockets. “Then, what do you want to know about the Chávez’s?”

Without missing a beat, he answered.

“You can give me all you got. Recent scandals, fuck ups.. Perhaps, you got anything from the collapse of the Aureum building three years ago?”

“The Aureum building,” Eddie echoed, reminiscing like a veteran released from war. “That was the messiest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the last ten years. The lawsuits, the bribes, and the social media mayhem—“

“The deaths.” Miles cringed, remembering his father. “Surely, that was the most fucked up thing.”

“Aside from the architecture? Sure.” Eddie pulled out a box of cigars from his pocket, wringing out a single stick. “Weak scaffolding, quick-dry cement.. Put two and two together, and everything collapsed as soon as the opening began.”

Miles wallowed, grimacing at the sight of the habit. “Could it have been planned?”

With a flick of his lighter, Eddie took one breath in and sighed. “Could? There’s no ‘could’, boy, it was planned.”

Planned? Planned by who?

Were the Chávez’s really masters at self-sabotage? Or were their enemies really just each other?

“You see, the Chávez’s specialize in human trafficking, slave trade, and child labor. The people they ship work tirelessly for other businesses without a fee— because we, you and I and the rest of us who had the freedom to earn education, refused to work under hellish circumstances and poor environments. Without us, precisely, without the poor, the rich are nothing.”

“Then the Aureum building?”

“The Aureum building was a cover-up for a bigger scandal.” Eddie tilted his head. “The people inside were likely witnesses, or people who knew about the human trafficking.. And when the building collapsed, they sued the construction companies involved, got the money, but damaged their reputation.. And I don’t see why they’d do all of that just to damage their reputation.”

Miles pondered and pondered.

“.. It was probably someone from inside the family who planned everything.”

“That’s what I think so too.” Eddie added, blowing off another puff of intoxicating smoke. “Someone who won’t suffer from the damaged reputation.. Yet someone who still manages to benefit from it all financially.”

“… Could it be.. Any one of the siblings?”

Eddie takes a step back, likely thinking about it. “.. Well, the other one’s in London, the other one’s too stupid, and the last’s a minor.”

“Minor?” Miles repeated. “How young are we talking?”

“.. Well, the last time I heard about the girl.. She was thirteen, and it’s been three years since then, so she’s probably fifteen to sixteen.”

It’s not as though a thirteen year old could possibly plan out such a meticulous plan… Well maybe, or maybe not, it’s not as though Miles was the only genius capable of great things.

“You know any of their names?”

“Names.” Eddie furrowed his brow. “The last girl’s protected by the law, since it’s illegal to paparazzi minors.. But the first two are Montrell and Anthony.”

Montrell. Mon. Three children. Two older brothers. One girl. Sixteen, sixteen years old just like you.

Miles swallowed.

It’s as though he could feel your hands blocking your vision, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

He falters, alerting Eddie. “What’s wrong?”

“.. My head just hurts.” He mumbled, turning his head. “I think I kinda overworked myself. I still got a date.. Need to.. Rest.”

“Date?” Eddie blew. “That’s right. You’re quite famous, ain’t you?”

Miles rolled his eyes, able to freely express his distaste for the supposed compliment behind his mask. “I try not to be, don’t wanna make her think about it too much. The broad shoulders don’t help as much, though.”

“She know all ‘bout your..” With his cigarette squeezed between his ring, Eddie gestured at him. “Your little vigilante thing?”

Leaning his head against the brick wall, Miles crossed his arms and shrugged. “She better not. Don’t wanna make her daddy even madder.” He lowers his gaze a bit, his mask naturally zooming into the title of Eddie’s cigarette box. It was the same brand as your brother’s, likely a different flavor. Mint or something. Everyone around him smoked too much.

“She from the finer part of York or what?”

“The finest.” He recalls your brother’s luxury car. “.. But I think she’s tryna hide it.”

Eddie plucks the cigar out his teeth, a sort of accusatory yet mundane expression scribbled all over his scruffy face. Eventually, he laughs it off. “That’s all of what’s wrong with our society. The poor pretend to be rich and the rich pretend to be poor. They like romanticizing poverty but likely won’t be able to find comfort if they walked in our shoes for ‘bout a damn mile.”

“She ain’t nun like that.” Miles butted in. “She’s sweet, my girl. Cruel, sometimes, but that’s how ladies gotta be from time to time— seeing as how the world fucks them up every now and then.”

“.. That your first date?” Eddie asked.

“I guess. We’re kissing, but we got no label.”

Eddie scoffed an old man’s scoff. “Your generation’s got me fucked up. Y’all and your situationship bullshittery.”

“It ain’t like that.”

“It’s always like that.” Eddie narrowed his eyes. Miles similarly cringed, wondering how Eddie could be so bitter— having to remind himself seconds later that the man’s poor wife was dead. Dead as hell. As dead as his father. “If she can’t even be upfront about her wealth, she’s likely hiding something from you.”

“My man, I’m lucky she even looked my way. You know nun ‘bout her, don’t be like that.”

“And what if she’s from the oligarchy, huh?” Eddie exaggerated. “What if she’s a Fisk? A Barlowe? Hell, even worse, what if she’s a Chávez?”

Miles didn’t reply.

As the puff of smoke emanated through the damp air, suddenly, Miles pictured you holding a cigarette while grinning at him wickedly— and somehow, that tantalizing air.. Suited you like the slip of a glove.

“I’m just kidding w’ya, man.” Eddie laughed, flicking the cigarette away, crushing it with the sole of his wrinkled boot.

“Ain’t funny, Ed.” Miles grumbled. “People I loved died in Aureum.”

“But she’s still rich, though. You can never be too sure ‘bout the kind of secrets her family’s keeping. If push comes to shove, will you still be able to love her if you do find out that her family’s fucked up?”

“Stop it.” He angrily seethed. “Stop.”

Eddie watched with a certain stank in his eye.

“… Y’know, there’s a rumor that one of the Chávez kids are illegitimate.”

.. Miles left seconds after.

It’d not been his greatest day, and earnestly speaking, his gut’s been clamoring at him to listen, only for him to reject its pleas. He’d thought about listening— to whatever higher being was calling upon him to stray away from you.

His Mama told him to pray throughout his struggles. She’d not been a zealot, his mother. But she was no stranger to the novena, to pray and to call for help in such long days. He’d been subjected to it early on: the novenas, the masses, the lingering of frankincense in the air. Though she never truly coerced him to participate in the church, Miles simply titter-tottered throughout those dull Sunday evenings.

He didn’t want some higher being to stop him from becoming a horrible person; Miles wanted to be good on his own accord.

But you.. You made him question. Not you, but himself.

Though his dad always told him to question everything while he’s young, Miles couldn’t question you. How could ever question you?

An illegitimate child. Which one was it?

Your brothers, who had everything?

Or you, who had nothing?

And although Eddie left the alleyway unscathed, Miles felt that blood had stained his hands.

And you could still taste blood in your mouth.

You could still hear the crunch of that man’s neck echoing in your ears, his tiny pleads of self-preservation before the snap to his death. It rang and rang behind your eyes, between your ears, like a haunting melody you couldn’t help but repeat.

The memory of his fear merely energized your veins, but left you gawking in dauntness even as you worked your way through the hotel— showing Montrell the ropes and tending to the preparations for the upcoming charity event. The snap, the way it snapped— the way his neck snapped was a musical lyric that pulsed and pulsed in your mind.

Snap.

Snap.

ＳＮＡＰ.

The idea of fear intrigued you, cannibalism, however, not so much. The symbiote immensely argued with you, that it wasn’t your body in particular feasting on human flesh, but the symbiote itself. It needed to be fed, and it needed sustenance— but you didn’t know where else to find that sustenance.

“Miss?” Charlotte, the head housekeeper called out to you, snapping you back from the profanities of your mind.

Suddenly, you’re back staring at the new, tall, stained-glass windows— basking you in the glory of pale lights in shades of ethereal yellow and blue. It’s been under construction for quite a while now, but after your father had approved of the idea, you were willing to wait long enough to see its outcome. You’d only gotten the news just a few hours ago in regard to its completion, and now you’ve been staring at it for a while now.

“Yes?” You stifled airily, wallowing in a hundred emotions.

Charlotte bows her head for a moment, unveiling an approaching guest.

Before you could even process to question who it was, Montrell and his gentle eyes appeared before you. He seems to marvel at the windows before you as he takes another step up the stairs.

“Wow,” He huffed. “Is this.. Your design?”

You simply looked at the window with crossed arms and a smile. “I couldn’t forget about the windows when we went to Veronica’s wedding. I liked.. The colors and the drama it endowed.” You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “.. This was my final project in the hotel.. I’ve done so much to rebrand everything, but we still can’t do much ‘bout what happened in the past.”

The lights dawned upon the both of you.

“Does it hold any special meaning?” He asks.

You shrugged. “It varies on the person, I guess. I think, those who don’t really know me will try to put meaning into all that I do, but those who really know me know that my art is plainly.. Meant for aesthetic.”

Montrell frowned. “How can you make art without passion?”

“.. You pick up a pen.” You carved a smile. “And you just draw.”

You draw, and you draw. Carved it in, like how a knife would pierce a sack of flesh. Murder the canvas with each stroke, and if they ask you ‘why?’, answer with ‘why not?’.

“I think.. Only Miles can place meaning in my art. After all, my passion resides in him.”

“Like a proxy.” Montrell darkly laughed, shaking his head. “.. I wonder how hard you’d break once you lose him.”

You turned your head to look at your brother’s charming face.

“Is that a threat?”

“A warning,” He remarked. “After all, how could he ever love you once he realizes that our family’s responsible for his father’s death?”

You turned your head back to the windows. “… I feel guilty, actually. I don’t really know how to approach Miles if he ever comes to realize my identity.”

“.. Don’t you feel lonely having to constantly push away the people you love?”

You shrugged. “I’m a pretty girl. Pretty girls are never lonely.”

“Sure.”

Montrell looked at you. To be precise, he eyed you, and he looked at the way you casted your eyes downward. From a mile away, one would believe you fostered insecurity and shame in the way you’d stare, but knowing you and the way you were, that downcast gaze of yours imbued disinterest and a heightened sense of.. Superiority.

No matter how hard you try to appear empathetic, you were always and inevitably still a Chávez. Even in the way you pursed your rouged lips, or spoke with eloquence, or held your head high.. You and your siblings, who were forged to become heartless from the beginning, were never bound to be kind.. Or good.

But could Miles do it?

Could he actually change you? Humanize you?

Make you kind and loving, and normal?

You tightened your grip over your arm. “I.. Was going to escape tonight, originally.. For our date. He wanted us to have a halloween date. It’s so dorky. He’s so dorky.” The way you fawned was genuine, though. He could see it so clearly. “But after daddy mentioned the USB, I didn’t know how to face him without feeling guilty.. I came to meet Miles with the intention of using him to get his dead dad’s stuff but I ended up.. Falling for him. I never knew I was capable of feeling like this.”

“.. When we’re too busy to survive, it feels frustrating to have to care for someone else. That’s why our family doesn’t feel like one.” Montrell whispered.

“We’re not a Greek tragedy.”

“Exactly, which would mean,” He turns to you. “You’re likely still savable, [N/n].”

You lightly winced. “.. I haven’t heard that nickname since I was twelve.”

Your brother chuckles at the reminder. “.. We called you that since you couldn’t pronounce your name when you were three.” Montrell heaved a long breath, as though he were a dreamer reminiscing the times. Ah, he truly is a sucker for what’s long gone, huh? “Antonne and I were so excited to have you. Your first word was my name, actually, Mon. I had to sneak up into your cradle every night just to make you practice say my name. Mama used to hold you in her arms whenever I got home from school, and she used to read out my cards with you in her other hands ‘cause you were one energetic kid.”

Oh, so like a normal family?

We were capable of having that this whole time?

…

“[Y/n]?”

You snapped yourself back to reality, Montrell’s voice leading you out of your internal monologue. “Did you hear my question?” He queried. “You kinda zoned out there.”

“Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout something. You were saying?”

“Once you get the USB.. Are you going to leave him?”

The question seemed far fetched from the previous topic, which caught you off-guard. You turn your head. “.. I don’t know. I’d rather make him hate me, and have him leave me first, because I don’t think I can ever bring it upon myself to leave him.”

Such a romantic.

“Do you think you can handle it?”

“.. It’s not a question of whether I can handle it, it’s a question of whether Miles can handle it.”

Montrell murmured. “.. What if he gets revenge?”

“Revenge?” You repeated, the idea sounding funnily dramatic. “Revenge on me? I didn’t throw that building over his father’s head.”

“Ah, yes, but there’s a thing called karma.” Montrell spoke as thought to remind you. “It’ll be out there to get you, or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

You couldn’t help but aimlessly ponder. “… Why do poor people believe in futile things such as karma?”

The way you worded it, and the way it exited your tongue seemed unusually natural. Montrell, who’s been too used to such words, only shrugged. “Cause there’s nothing else to save them. That’s why they have a god, [Y/n]. They can’t save themselves, and so that’s why they believe something otherworldly will.”

Before you could speak, Montrell looked out into the glass windows before turning to you.

“Speaking of which, I think you should use daffodils for the upcoming party.”

“.. Daffodils?” You repeated.

Your brother nods. “Yes. I find them to be quite lovely.”

Since when did he have an interest in flowers? You internally squirmed. “Where the hell am I going to get daffodils in autumn?” You groaned. “We can use other yellow flowers for the golden theme.”

“Well, you’re not in charge anymore.” Was his attempt of a tease. “Surely there are still daffodils here in this season. We’ll have to find the best greenhouse in town.”

“But why?”

“Because I said so.”

You sweetly casted a glance at him, smiling as a thought crowed at you.

A sharp pain shoots through Miles’ head. A pulsing, familiar pain— resembling a bullet, dove straight into his subconscious.

He stumbles back as darkness clouds his vision, a sort of slithering and slimy feeling coursing through his system like a snake seething beneath his skin. His heart was hammering against his chest. It was like that time during the warehouse, where he felt genuinely uneasy and unsettled. The eyes of that figure behind the window, watching him tremulously stare back.

In the cage of his mind, Miles finds himself inside a dark void— where the silence was loud enough to hear the sound of a pin drop.

Then there was this drumming.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The melody was unfamiliar, but the voice nostalgic. Miles crawled amidst the darkness, searching for the voice, only to look up and catch the sight of a pristine, delicately made shoe. It kicked against the front of a desk, making a rhythmic pattern. Thump. Thump. Thump. With each passing moment, his eyes continued to linger upward, from the shoe, to a leg, to a waist, to your pretty face.

You sat there, above the desk, with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes, puckering up your pretty lips along with the song. You were so idly calm, so leisure while singing so softly, he could hardly make out the words exiting your mouth. A dim, green light cascaded against the silhouette of your figure, further accentuating the pink of your lips and the darkening of your gaze.

You smiled, but your eyes held nothing. Like you never knew what kindness was, even in his presence. You never looked at him like that before— like you hated him enough that you wanted him to die.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The thumping was growing faster and faster with each second. Upon seeing his struggle, a stifled laugh laces the lyrics.

Miles tried to move, but his whole body writhed in pain— like he was beaten, defeated. His arms itched in burns and scars. With the sound of your hum, Miles looks up, only to see you cross your arms before your chest, the tip of your shoe gently grazing against the skin of his temple. He feels as though he was being watched, idly, by an audience that had no interest at all in intervening. Like everyone was amused to see him.. Kneeling before you.

Click. Click. Click. The cutter clicked in your palm as the blade rose higher.

It’s like your presence alone was enough to blind him, and his conscience kept crawling back to you no matter how hard it tries to stray.

Really, who are you, [Y/n]?

Why was it whenever you lingered in his dreams, you were the cruelest person to exist?

And why was it that Miles knew that he’d probably still adore you with your hands around his neck?

“.. Miles?”

From a gentle shuffle, Miles awoke to the sound of his mother’s voice.

Miles jolted up, his skin half drenched with cold sweat. Unfortunately enough, his awakening was nothing avian. On the contrary, his awakening felt like a somber chore. The material clung onto him like glue, making him utter a groan. For a while, he helplessly looked around like a child lost between rows of linoleum aisles, his mind hopping from question to question. 'What just happened? What was I dreaming of?'

Like some hungover drunkard, he gently peeled himself away from the sweat-stained sheets and begrudgingly sat upright. Rio’s gentle hand cradled his aching head.

“Rest, mijo, you’re exhausted.”

“Mama, I—“ He broke, running a damp hand over his head. For a moment, he flinches, checking to see if his hands were covered in blood. “What happened?”

His mother’s dark curls lightly brushed against his temple. Her eyes were just as exhausted as he was, with dark circles rimming the doeness of her gaze. “I got home to you taking a nap but you kept squirming. I was so worried. Que paso?”

He looked around, realizing he’d dropped himself unconscious atop the sofa.

“.. Nightmare.”

Night terrors, to put it precisely. It’s been haunting him since the death of his father three years ago. He thought they’d long vanished after meeting you, but after his suspicions arose, his anxiety came crawling back like a dreadful stench.

Rio handed him a glass of water, to which he gulped down to its very last drop— like he’s been thirsting for all his life.

“Mama,” He called out. “… What do I do?”

His loving mother creased her brow, shaking her head. “What is it, mijo? What’s wrong?”

He runs his hand over his face, wondering how to begin. At that moment, Miles recalls your sweetest smiles, your loudest laughs, and your warmest hugs.

You held his hand, dragged him out of that maze, and you vandalized the hotel together. You tore yourself away from the expectations of your family, and went to him.

You chose him.

But could he go so far to assume that you loved him?

Rio shifted comfortably, trying to appear more welcoming to whatever catastrophe Miles was about to unleash. “What’s wrong, Miles?”

Miles couldn’t even admit it to himself, though he’d long noticed, he preferred to remain ignorant ‘til the truth was spilled from your own lips.. But he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Blood runs thicker than water, but both feel the same when your eyes are closed— and that could mean many things.

“A lot, ma.” He buried his head into his hands. “And Ionno if I could deal with it all.”

“You don’t have to deal with everything, Miles.” Rio frowned. “You’re only fifteen. Eres demasiado joven. Con el tiempo todo se arregla.”

“Me duele la cabeza.”

“Ponte vaporub.” Rio stood to grab the small, blue ointment. As she unscrews its green cap, Miles was immediately hit with its loud, minty scent. Digging her fingers into the substance, Rio smears the vaporub all over Miles’ forehead. “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.”

He lightly moved away with a sigh. “I’m not a kid anymore, ma.”

“I’m your mother, you’ll always be my kid.” As the cooling sensation sunk into his skin, he felt his mother’s palm cup his cheek. “And since you’re my kid, I always get worried about you. I know we ain’t got nothing much, but we got each other, Miles. You’re a great kid bound to achieve great things.”

He wasn’t too sure about that. That whole great kid thing. You had your fingers entangled all over his puppet strings, and it made him hesitate.

But what if that was exactly your plan? To ruin him entirely for your benefit?

“.. Ma, what would you do if the person you liked lied to you about their identity?”

Rio sat in silence.

“.. Que?”

Ah, fuck. That’s a stupid question.

“Nothing.” Miles turned his head. “Sorry, that was a stupid question—“

“No, Miles. I didn’t mean to— I just, you like someone? A girl?”

Miles shifted uncomfortably. Rio softened. “A boy?”

“No, ma!” He exclaimed, embarrassed. “I-It’s a girl. I like a girl.. Por los clavos de Cristo.”

“Oh, I was preparing myself.” Rio placed a hand over her heart. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d accept you no matter what, I just didn’t have a long wonderful speech prepared for it.. But what’s wrong with the girl?”

“Well, ma, it’s just..”

“Did she cheat on you!?”

“No! We’re not even together yet, ma. We were gonna have our first date today, but.. But her family’s been treating her horribly, and her older brother picked her up while we were out buying costumes for our halloween date only for him to directly tell me that it ain’t happening.”

“And then?”

“She talked ‘bout her dad throwing a fit, and now she hasn’t replied the whole day.” He slipped his fingers through his hair. “I even woke up at six in the morning just to get my braids redone at Tasha’s… And they invited me to a party at their house on Sunday.”

“Sunday? Then— that’s great!” Rio exclaimed, placing her hands over her son’s shoulders. “That would mean they’re open to getting to know you. Well, I think you can borrow some of your dad’s old clothes for the party, you two look great in suits anyway.”

“W-Well, ma, that ain’t entirely the problem, she’s..” He swallowed. “Ma, I think she comes from a very rich family.”

“Okay, and?” Rio raised a brow. “Did she ever make you feel inferior for having superior wealth?”

“.. No? Well, she’s been trying to keep it on the down low this whole time, but.. Whenever I see her, she acts so.. Proper and polite when she don’t even notice it. And her brother’s British too, and I— Ionno how the hell that happened, but he sound like the type to spit out tap water if I ever brought him to a restaurant.”

“Well, you’re dating the girl, Miles, not her brother.” Rio sighed. He thinks of it for a moment, then shrugs. Only then he notices his mother’s wide smile, her shoulder nearly glued onto his.

“So.. Who’s the girl?”

Miles fiddled awkwardly, unsure how to answer. Rio seemed adamant for an answer, so, after a while of internally mustering up sentences, Miles replied. “Her name.. [Y/n].”

“Mhm.”

“She uh.. Sixteen. I-I met her three months ago.. And we started doing graffiti together since then.”

“Oh, so she’s an artist?”

Miles gaped. “S… Sum like that, yeah.”

Your art varied. Your colors were blander while his, more vibrant. But there was something about the way you drew, that was so meaningfully realistic that it captured entirely how your mind pondered in its darkest moments. An art style that captured entirely the darkest of what life could bring.

He remembers going through your sketchpads, how your dabbles consisted of dull realism. Maybe it was only dull because it was exactly what New York’s become— cold and calloused.

But in contrast, you were able to set his world on fire in a way he’s never seen. Only you could paint over the dullness with scarlet, in a way that had him choking from the smoke emanating from your fire.

But he couldn’t tell his mother the way you’ve worsened him.

His mother wouldn’t let him get too close to someone as bright and dangerous as you.

“Why haven’t you mentioned about her before? I could’ve helped!” Rio tossed her dark curls to the side. They’d always reminded him of the dark sea. “Es puertorriqueña? Puede hablar español?”

“No,” Miles thinks about it for a minute. “I-Ionno, actually. She never told me anythin’ bout it, but she can’t speak Spanish so I ain’t sure.”

Rio attempted, no she really did try to attempt— to hide her disappointment. Were her grandkids bound to forever be free of her culture? How saddening.

“Pero creo que ella está estudiando español.”

“Oh?”

“Sí.” Mile seemed to lightened up. “She’s so cute. She can’t even pronounce ‘roja’.”

“But she’s trying.” Rio could not be any happier. “She’s trying! Eso es bueno! Ella ya me gusta. Not everyone tries these days, you know.”

He wondered if his mother was faking her enthusiasm just to ease him. He’d expected her to be more.. Angry about it.

“.. I’m surprised you’re not upset, ma.”

“Upset?” Rio furrowed her brows. “Miles, how could I get upset? You’re experiencing what every other teenager experiences, that’s great!.. I know you’ve been trying to act like an adult to help us, and you’ve given up so much just to keep us afloat. I’ve been getting worried that you’ve been focusing too much with adult responsibilities that you’re forgetting that you’re just a kid. You’re allowed to go around and be a kid. You’re allowed to like a girl— so long as she’s not a bad influence.”

Miles pushes back the thought of you being a smoker.

“She’s not a bad influence. She’s.. Just going through a lot.. She makes me happy, ma.”

Rio looked at him proudly. Only then, she wondered if her dearest husband ever brooded like this too upon realizing his feelings for her. She wondered if Jeff ever pouted the way Miles did, and looked out into the world with such admiration in his eyes as though he were shaping the void into an image of her.

Jeff loved, and thus, Miles could love too.

“If she makes you happy, then I’m happy.” She beamed. “So long as she’s not a brat or an alcoholic, or a racist, or any of those bad people, I’ll accept her.”

The mother shared a loving glimpse of her son, making out an image of her late husband in the way he smiled. Suddenly, she pats her lap and stands up. “Bueno, I’m making adobo.”

“I can help—“

“No, sit down, you’re tired.” Rio held out a finger. “Take a rest, Miles.”

“But Ma—“

“Rest.”

And he did.

Well, he tried. It was a subtle attempt. A poor one, at that. He sat upright by the sofa, listening to his mother chop up the potatoes. He tries to discreetly look into your messages, only to find you’ve finally texted back.

her ♡ || two minutes ago.

sorry i haven’t texted!! 😭😭

remember the party this sunday? my dad is making me help with the preparations so i couldn’t go to our date

i’m really sorry 🥺 don’t get mad

if you want, we can do it tomorrow.

Miles pouted. He didn’t want to reply immediately. He didn’t want to look desperate.

So he waited for another five minutes.

.. Even though you made him wait for six hours.

He switches the television on in attempt to distract himself from your message.

‘Last night, a horrific murder happened within Brooklyn, as the body of a beheaded man was discovered outside of a local bodega. Witnesses claim that an alien disguised as a teenage girl had ripped off, and eaten the man’s head.’

“The hell?” Miles burrowed his brows upon being greeted with the news on television. “An alien?”

He watches as the screen switches over towards one of the witnesses, a scruffy man with reddened eyes— evidently too lost in whatever he was taking to speak too calmly.

“.. They’re prolly high as hell.”

‘I’m ain’t even [censored] with y’all— some [censored] ripped off Kyle’s head— it was a horrific looking piece of [censored] made out of black goo or whatever the [censored]. The government’s [censored] making alien [censored]!

‘So far, there have been no records of the scene, as the cameras had been blacked out.’

“What the f—“ Miles grew mindful of his language upon realizing his mother was in the other room. “How the hell did that even happen!? Blacked out my ass.”

It was more or less, likely a murder related to the elites. One of their kids must’ve been hanging out with those junkies and killed a man for fun.

A phone begins to ring. Miles turns his head.

“Miles, can you get that for me?” He heard his mother, who was too busy chopping up something, call out.

He turns off the television, hops out of the sofa and heads straight into his mother’s room. As he flicks the light open, a king-sized bed greets him with its gray, large glory. He used to jump on that bed too much when he was a kid. Now, it looked.. Desolate, and almost deserted. With how large the bed was, he couldn’t help but ponder how lonely his mother must’ve felt, sleeping in a bed less warmer than three years ago.

Miles passes by the closet, and after foraging for a bit, he manages to find his mother’s phone atop a drawer— swiftly grabbing the gadget before turning to leave.

As he turns, his foot accidentally nudges against a box.

He peers through it, before kicking it away.

Making his way back to the kitchen, he hands the ringing phone over to his mother before curtly returning to the room to close the lights.

But as his hands reached out towards the switch, his eyes were drawn back to the sight of the box.

It looked like it’d been cast aside beside the closet.

Hearing his mother speak over the phone lightheartedly, something about something. Miles trudges towards the orange, cardboard box, kneeling by the floor with a single knee down on the wood. His hand curiously glazes over the top, feeling a pile of dust collect over his fingers.

Hesitantly, he takes off the lid, finding a familiar white, collared shirt. He pulls it up to the ceiling light and watches as it unfolds into a larger sheet.

This belonged to his father’s.

He looks right back into the box, finding a pair of black, dress pants neatly folded into a square. Meekly, he tugs on it, hoping he wouldn’t uncover anything sinister like a severed hand or an eyeball. After pulling the whole thing out, a longer line of black unravels.

A strange array of emotions lingered inside him.

Nostalgia. Wrath. Happiness.

It smelled like dust, and it was forever devoid of its owner’s scent and warmth.

“Miles, do you want juice?”

“Huh? Y-yeah.” He stammered. “Grape juice would be nice.”

His mother’s comment slips past his ears. For a moment, he pondered about wearing this to the Sunday party, but he couldn’t help but think how it likely wouldn’t fit him. His father was a giant, and he was quite lanky.

Upon hearing his mother’s footsteps, Miles hurriedly and clumsily attempts to refold the clothes, only then hearing a soft clatter. He pivots his head to the side.

There was a USB.

“For the florals, I think daffodils would be great.”

Your hands skimmed across the air in attempt of drafting an idea. From afar, you manage to earn a wider view of the banquet hall. Workers left and right helped with tidying up the refectory, scrubbing up windows and mopping up the floors. “It would match the golden theme, don’t you think?” You asked of Charlotte, who nodded wobbly with her dire age.

As of that moment, you’d been preparing for the layout of the party. As much as you didn’t want to listen to Montrell’s suggestion, you figured getting on his bad side would be a bad move.

The fundraiser, originally hosted by your aunt, was planned out to gather enough money to support Senator Barlowe’s projects. Your family was to auction off high-priced materials such as clothes, jewelry, paintings, and even estates for the sake of meeting the goal. Which would also mean that the highest of the elite would be attending the party.

And you were less than thrilled to be its co-host.

Charlotte marvels at your suggestion, taking it with a smile but a pique. “However, daffodils can’t usually be placed with other flowers, so I’ll have to make a special request to the florist to do the preparations extensively.”

You raised a brow. “Why can’t they be placed together with other flowers?”

One of the maids carrying a porcelain vase walk past you, making you gently remind her to put it aside.

Charlotte parts her palms. “They secrete toxins into the water. So whenever it’s placed among other flowers, the rest die.”

“Oh,” You widened your gaze, processing this newly found information. “How did you know that?”

Charlotte blinked, trying to think back. “.. Well, daffodils were used for your mother and father’s wedding. It was a struggle, since the day of the wedding, half of the bouquet had already wilted.”

You stood back in surprise, crossing your arms before your chest. “Mama must’ve been furious.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Your father plucked flowers out from the gardens and made her a bouquet himself.”

Wait. What? WHAT?

Wow, who knew your daddy was quite the romantic?

I’m just as shocked as every other person.

“M-My father?” You dumbly repeated. “My father plucked out the flowers himself? Or was it Mr. Nigel?”

“Your father, himself, Miss.” Charlotte laughed, finding your shock to be quite amusing. “He’s quite great at it too— flower arrangement. Your grandmother taught him from an early age.”

“My father truly arranged the bouquet for him and mama’s wedding?” You couldn’t believe your ears. “He has that sort of talent?”

“Why, of course!” She beamed a warm beam. “Like you, he used to oversee the interior of the hotel. He has great taste when it comes to color, and you’ve inherited that side of him.”

You tried to think about it, your father— who was now an old man with a permanent sneer on his wrinkled lip— arranging flowers in his youth, picking out pastel and cream curtains for the parties, and overseeing the menu. It didn’t seem like something he’d do, at all. Then again, your mother used to describe him in a way that made it tragic.

A good man, never a good father. Torn between yearning to be held in arms that never welcomed him and finding his worth beyond the standard of his own father.

You tried to sympathize with him. Your father.

Though he was who he was, he cared about you, in a twisted, fucked-up way. Your engagement with Richard Fisk was privately decided after the hotel went near-bankrupt had it not been for the Fisks and their mystical talent for cover-ups— and your father simply took most of your managing rights away just so the family you’d marry into wouldn’t use you for their own greed.

The fate wasn’t entirely horrible either. You’d marry into new money, sure, but their wealth would most definitely preserve the comfortable life you’re living right now.

It was your own greed that was worsening you.

Your desire to have a tantamount of power.

But what if you never needed it?

“Miss!”

What if all you needed was a peaceful life? Marry into the Fisks, host parties, and care no more about anything?

“Miss [Y/n]!”

.. But what about Miles?

He hadn’t answered any of your texts yet.

“Miss [Y/n], a call.” One of your secretaries came crashing through the doors with his phone. How you hated that word. Call. A signal of what would definitely exhaust you. Where was Montrell? Why weren’t they calling out for him? Were you really the only one able to handle all the messes in here? Workers left and right stopped as he trudged up the stairs, nearly tossing the phone over to you. You slip it close to your ear, making your way down with each click of your heel.

Charlotte watches as you listen to the caller with such intent. Silently, you eyed your surroundings before heading out.

As you reached the patio, you looked out into the dimming violet evening that was fading out along with the scarlet of the sun. The caller rambles on, something along about the recent incident.

“I’ve bribed the higher-ups to rush the investigation and to arrest the witnesses. We’ll release the story that they had murdered their friend after taking drugs.”

“Good.” You plucked out your vape from your pockets. “Report to me immediately once you find all the records about their families and their identities.”

“Understood.” You hear the sound of Morrison’s computer typing. Likely writing up a list. “I’ve also halted the investigation of the fire. I’ve told your father the information was tracked from an accidental leak after a delivery of the samples to one of the families had the address exposed. Sir Anthony will have to take up the blame since it was his idea.”

You took a long huff. “Good job. You did well.”

The smoke lingers, and you close your eyes.

Sorry, Antonne. You’ll live, I guess.

“Morrison,” You called out to him. “.. How’s Miles?”

The typing comes to a halt. For a moment, the two of you shared a moment of silence. You picture him pushing his glasses up higher off the bridge of his nose.

“.. I’ve spent most of my attention on other things, so I haven’t been able to check up on him yet.”

“Ah, is that so?” You mumbled. “Never mind then, just continue on with halting the investigation. I’ll take care of the rest, and remember, if any of the witnesses start describing my face—“

Clack.

You turned your head.

What was that?

ＳＯＭＥＯＮＥ‘Ｓ　ＨＥＲＥ

No shit.

Beyond the gardens, the skies were beginning to dim. That familiar shade of magenta, it lingered like a ghost and it haunted you like your past. There was a click that set your mind off, and suddenly you couldn’t help but feel like the world was integrating itself into a technicolor, dotted comic.

Then and there, spying on you from the top of the six Corinthian columns of the garden, sat the young Prowler.

“Miss [Y/n]? You were saying?” Morrison pried from you.

You parted your phone from you ear, a side of your grin heightening into a catty smirk.

“… If any of them start describing my face, take care of it.”

Then and there, you ended the call with one light tap. You remained stubborn with your posture, seemingly amused and befuddled by it all while keeping your head high. The boy watched you curiously but stiffly, as if he were unsure of what to do. You were mutually frozen, but you couldn’t allow any sort of weakness to seep through the cracks of your confidence.

You took a step close, and he tenses. The sound of your heel clicking against the tiles sends an echo into the garden.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You greeted of him with sincere politeness, placing a hand over your hip. Was it an attempt to appear idle or what? “… It’s quite an honor to have you here as a guest.”

“Who are you?” The boy growled, voice delved baritones deep. “Really.”

You tilted your head.

“Who would you like me to be?”

His gauntlet unfolds, and suddenly, he launches himself at you, grabbing you by the neck.

[A/n: I PASSED MY FUCKING ENTRANCE EXAM GUYS]

[phi4mars]

So I was thinking of a request, when an idea popped into my mind, I definitely see Velvet to be the type to fall really hard in love and be in complete denial while also acting dismissive and uncaring, but in reality she’s all putty and melting at just the thought of them(and veneer knows and teases her about it) and she tries really hard not to show those weaknesses to anyone, especially the reader who in this case is worried on why velvet seems to avoid them like the plague. So yeah I thought a lot about this for some reason, hope it’ll give you more ideas for future stories:)

ahh yes. guys im so sorry i haven’t updated im suuuuuper busy right now but i should be able to post more. keep requesting please!!!

anyways thankyou for the suggestion i love it!!

complicated

꧁………….꧂

“i do not like her!! she’s my bestfriend!” velvet denies shouting at veneer.

“sure you don’t!! your all lovey dovey around her, just admit it!” he yells back frustrated that his sister will not admit she is a girl kisser.

“what do you mean lovey dovey?!” she asks crossing her arms.

“you’re always trying to get close to her and you turn into a blushing mess when she compliments you!!” veneer says slapping his face.

velvet thinks for a minute, then dropping her jaw.

“oh my god.”

~~

2 days later velvet and veneer are in their dressing room after one of their shows. velvet lays on the couch after sighing,

“where’s y/n?” she asks looking disappointed.

“why so you can swoon over her?” veneer replies snickering.

“shut up” she replies covering her face.

suddenly the door bursts open revealing a very angry y/n.

“can you believe it? the stupid security guard held me back and called me a crazy fan!” she says moving her hands around.

y/n walks over to the couch and sits next to the green haired girl. velvet shifts away from her a little leaving y/n super confused.

“anyways you guys did amazing tonight! everyone was going crazy” y/n exclaimed.

“awe thankyou” veneer said while velvet stayed silent.

veneer shot velvet a look before she finally replied,

“oh yeah thanks” she said coldly.

y/n could tell something was off with velvet since she always used to be right next to her and talk a crazy lot. there was so much tension in the room y/n thought it would be best to leave.

“i’m gonna leave, see ya later!” she smiled at the two.

~~

8:15pm

9:30pm

~~

y/ns pov

“i need space” the message read, from my own bestfriend. my heart stopped. what the fuck was going on.

what had i done? it doesn’t make sense, i didn’t do anything.

i held back tears as i dialled veneer, surely he would have answers right?

no answer.

a million thoughts rushed through my head as i tried to backtrack my whole life trying to find anything that could have caused this. the pure panic rushed through my body as i couldn’t hold back the tears.

~~

velvets pov

“i need space” i typed in and sent. i didn’t think before i sent that fucking message. she read it straight away.

what have i done?

i have messed up so bad, it’s so hard being around her, it feels all so different. i like her. no i’m inlove with my own bestfriend.

it felt like the only answer, avoid her until these feelings go away right? she probably hates me now.

“velvet, y/n is calling me” veneer opened the door and told me showing me his phone.

“don’t answer it.” i said sternly

“why?” he questioned.

“don’t answer it!” i screamed as i put my head in my hands.

꧁………….꧂

part 2?

sorry this isn’t really like the request and a bit short it’s just if i continued it would be so long lol

[enhastolemyheart]

𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘛𝘖𝘖 𝘓𝘈𝘛𝘌 — NISHIMURA RIKI

pairing | best friend brother!niki x fem!reader

genre | fluff, kind of strangers to lovers, summer au (again)

synopsis | niki finally doing something about his undying love for you.

word count | 1.1k+

warnings | one kiss, swearing, teasing, mention of food, proofread but lmk if any mistakes, niki's sister name is Zuha but it's not the idol, Niki is a year older

a/n | it's here!! I'm really sorry for taking so long to do it, i jus got really really busy with school. I hope the 💍anon likes it! (lmk that you've read it!) thank you v much for requesting!! as always, requests and taglist is open! feel free to share anything if you'd like!! Enjoy reading!! THIS IS REQUESTED.

Gosh, why the fuck is she so cute and pretty?!

You probably won't believe it but, that was what was going on inside Niki's head when you walked into their house. His sister, only a year younger, invited you to a sleepover because your finals had just ended and you were free to spend some time together. 

He couldn't help but ogle at you when you took off your shoes and walked inside to the kitchen, zuha offering you chocolate milk. 

"Bro, can you not stare at her like that? You're going to creep her out." The voice of Niki's best friend, Jungwon hissed. "Focus on the game man, we're losing against the other team, and you know how much I hate losing."

Jungwon's words came out very incoherent to Niki. His focus was solely on you, the way you were sipping onto the chocolate-y delight. Smile slapped onto your face as you and his sister gossiped about stuff. His heart melted on the spot when you pushed unwanted hair behind your ear. It was like his ears reddened. When you and zuha head to her room to spend the rest of the time there, his heart skips a beat when you glance at him, waving a small 'hi' and making your way to zuha's room at her call. 

Once you're out of his sight, Niki clutches at his heart and groans at how fast you made his heart beat, lip subconsciously making its way between his teeth. You both have never really interacted, the only reason was because both of you were shy and Niki thought it wasn't right to become friends with a person who's close to her sister. But, it's not like he's breaking a rule or something, right?

. . .

It was now dinner time, Jungwon and you were sleeping over at your friends' house. Niki's mother had prepared sushi and some other meals for the night. She has asked niki to set the table up, but you had insisted that you'd help. 

While grabbing the required cups for water, you were aware of the glances that Niki would steal whenever you both brush past each other to make your way around the kitchen. He also helped you carry the plates when he saw you struggling, you would feel tingles all over your body when his hands brushed against yours, tips of the ears going red. He cleared his throat as to come out of the daze you had unintentionally put him in. 

While eating, you both sat opposite to each other. It just happened to be that you were opposite to each other and Niki couldn’t help but feel giddy about the littlest interaction you had. 

"So, how was your finals? I assume everyone did well," Zuha's mother squints her eyes at Niki as she says so, breaking the the silence that had erupted in the room. The tiny, soft chuckle that escapes your lips causes Niki's face of suspicion to turn soft at the sight of you. 

“I did them very well,” Zuha answers, “I’m sure that I’ll get a good score this time.” Her mother let out a proud smile at her words before turning to you, “well, how did you do Y/n?” You stop midway of a bite before smiling sheepishly, “I did pretty good Mrs. Nishimura. I expect a good score as well,” she smiles softly before patting your head and turning to the boys to ask them.

. . .

You being you, help niki out with the dishes as his mother said doing the dishes after dinner is Niki’s job. He lets me lay off and take an early rest. Who knew Niki is such a good son? You are aware that you don’t interact with him often but when you do, your heart flutters at how respectful and nice he is. Despite all the good things, Niki can also seem to naughty and mischevious. You had occasionally witnessed him getting in small trouble around campus, you couldn’t help but think how silly and cute of a person he is.

Ever since last summer, when you had visited Zuha’s house often, you would often go to her house with the desire to talk to Niki (but also hang out with Zuha ofc!). After this summer, the way he had changed— glowed up for that matter —only made your infatuation for him grow into a full blown out crush. You were too scared to talk to him considering he is a year older and he kind of intimidated you, but now you have become more mature and gave yourself a word that you would talk to him before it’s too late. 

"so, any plans for summer?" You break the silence that has taken over the room.

Niki was drying his hands after washing them after cleaning the last utensil of the night, "um, not really. I do plan casual plans like going to the mall or the movies with boys but nothing big you know?"

"yeah I get it." You nod.

"What about you?" He moves closer to you. way too close. "What are your plans for the summer?"

"Uhm well," you mentally sigh, eyes closing at your stammer, "I am going to Busan to visit my grandparents in a month so, I guess that's fun."

"have fun y/n," He moves even closer, trapping you between the counter and himself "are you by any chance, free tomorrow?" You have no idea why he's acting like this. Since when did he get flirty? You’re glad that it's only you both in the space of the kitchen right now. Zuha and Jungwon are up in Niki's room watching a movie, on a projector screen that Niki had recently purchased. 

"Uhm yeah, it's summer so I’m free," the way your voice was low and soft. Like it was some sort of sweet melody that Niki could listen to for a lifetime. your eyes look into his when you hear a low chuckle emerge on his side. 

"Alright then, will you, Y/n who I've liked forever since middle school, go out with me?"

A big smile makes its way to your lips, he notices the way your eyes sparkle, you nod softly before the gesture becomes more prominent. This causes Niki to smile, "wait, really?"

"yes." 

And that's all you say before subtly placing your hand on his shoulder, going on your tippy toes to give him a kiss. The kiss however is short-lived, purposely so you can make him want for more. And he's definitely wanting more. But, he doesn't get any, furrowing his brows he opens his eyes to see you smiling giddy-ly before slapping him lightly on the chest and escaping from his hold. 

And Niki just stands there, a low chuckle eliciting, thinking how he was not too late.

a/n | thank you sm for reading!! again, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!! And I'll see you in the next one!

perm taglist: @jak-ey , @snoowhore , @hsheart , @hsgwrld (bold can't be tagged; send an ask to be added)

© ENHASTOLEMYHEART ON TUMBLR, 2023 — do not translate, copy, modify, or repost any of my works as your own in any platform or form of use.