#two of the betty break ups are on days he's yelled at her and its like--yeah i think ur yelling might have played a part in it

[ladysophiebeckett]

it would have been funny if during one of betty's break up attempts she had just straight up said 'it's because you're a griton.' bc how you play past that? he can't say 'im not gonna yell at you anymore' bc they both know that's a lie. 'i'll try and yell less'? he's said that before too and he kept doing it. he would have to really reflect on it i think.

[cicidarkarts]

Hospice - 3: Truth

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As the days went on, Ominis found himself going through similar routines. Only now, he had the added benefit of seeing Sebastian every now and again. In the cafeteria, Sebastian helped Ominis pick the best fruit cup, one without any dried up or discolored fruit. Sebastian also took Ominis to the kid's room down the hall, a place Ominis was too nervous to go in alone, due to the screaming children and overwhelming smells.

"And if anyone messes with you—" A thud, like Sebastian punched his own palm. "—they'll answer to me." Ominis giggled. "Okay. Just try not to get into too many fights." "Who, me? Never."

And sure enough, Sebastian was a natural in a group. He talked to anyone with impunity, and always seemed to know what to say. Ominis saw this firsthand when two of the other children were fighting.

"It's my turn to play with the crayons," said the kid, who sounded younger than him and Sebastian. "No it isn't!" shouted the other, about the same age as the first. Sebastian got up from the reading corner with Ominis and headed to the art corner. Ominis followed behind, curious.

"Hey guys," said Sebastian. "What's the issue?" "I wanna play with the crayons and she's been hogging them!" "I have not! I'm just still playing with them!" Sebastian went quiet for a second before responding. "Ooh, I see the problem. One of those crappy sets of 24. I hate those. Can't you just share?" "No way, she's using all the colors I want!" "Hmm… Hold on, I've got an idea."

Sebastian shuffled off for a moment, then returned. Ominis heard the snap of a crayon breaking, the girls yelling, and the sharpener working its magic.

"Smart," said Ominis as the girls quieted down. "Now you've got two sets of crayons." "Yep!" Sebastian agreed. "Here you go, ladies. Two crayons and the sharpener. Now you can share!"

The girls thanked him and giggled as he walked away.

"Resourceful," said Ominis. "And a hit with girls." "Yeah, well," Sebastian started, sounding immodestly modest. "It's really no big deal."

Ominis disagreed, but kept it to himself. Thinking about girls fawning over him, too, was both delightful and sweat-inducing. He didn't understand girls.

Later that evening, Ominis went back to his Sunday death bets, bringing Sebastian along. Ominis introduced everyone and the men took to Sebastian just as easily as the kids.

"If Ominis says you're all right," said Richard. "Ya must be." "Thanks, Rich," said Sebastian. "It comes naturally."

The group laughed, including Ominis. Laughter felt so alien to his body, so bizarre as it rocked his core, so good as it lightened up his face. Everyone staked their claims for the week’s death bets, except Sebastian, as Ominis waited for a passing nurse. When one rolled a cart through, he dug into her mind as fast as he could.

'God, I miss my cat—Pauline is doing much better—Herman loved his family visit today—I think Betty's dementia is finally getting to her, the poor woman. Couldn't remember her daughter last week, but that sudden clarity today isn't a good sign.'

"20 bucks on Betty," he said. "Batty Betty?" Phil asked. "I've given up on her. I don't think the reaper will ever claim that old crone." "Are you doubting the master?" asked Tony. "The little man is two for two! I swear he's got a gift or something!" "Is it too late to change my bet?" joked Richard.

When everyone headed off to their rooms for the evening, Sebastian walked with Ominis back to his room.

“What did they mean you ‘have a gift’?” asked Sebastian. “Oh, umm… I’m not sure. I just guessed right a couple times and they think I’m psychic or something.” “How did you guess right? Do you know the patients here?” “Not really.” Ominis shrugged. “I don’t know.” “Oh, come on, Ominis. You expect me to believe that out of all the people living here, you just happened to know who was gonna die by pure luck? I might be a stupid kid, but I’m not that stupid.”

Ominis stopped in the middle of the hall and rolled his cane in his sweating palms. His heart rate kicked up at the thought of telling Sebastian his secret. Would Sebastian even believe him? Would Sebastian think he’s weird?

“You might think I’m crazy,” said Ominis, voice soft so no one else could hear. “I’ve never told anyone this before, so you have to promise to keep it a secret.” “Of course, I promise,” said Sebastian, whispering just as quietly. “Ever since I was a little kid, I could read people’s minds.” “No way. What am I thinking?”

He probed into Sebastian’s mind. ‘There’s no way he could. But what if he can? Oh man, I might be in trouble. How much can he see?’

“I can see as much as I want,” Ominis answered aloud. “Even things you aren’t actively thinking. I can’t see your memories with my vision, but I can feel your remorse and guilt for pushing Anne off the monkey bars last year. Try not to be so hard on yourself.”

There was a lull in their conversation. Ominis wished to see Sebastian’s face—if he was shocked into silence, repulsed by his intrusion, or terrified of what Ominis could do. Ominis’ adrenaline coursed through him, pulsing in his ears. Fear gripped his mind, keeping him focused on Sebastian’s presence, heightening him to any little thing Sebastian could be doing. There was a muttering whisper of a breathless, “woah”, nigh imperceptible.

“That’s so cool, Ominis,” said Sebastian. “No, that’s not just cool, that’s amazing. So that’s how you’re winning these death bets?” “Yeah, I’m reading the minds of the nurses. I don’t really like doing it, but…” “But?” “I finally have people who like me and accept me. I finally have money to buy things that I want. I finally have a reason to use my power instead of being afraid of it.” “Why would you be afraid of it?”

Ominis quickly probed deep into Sebastian’s mind, like second nature. He felt things he had no business feeling, knew things he had no business knowing. It all hit him hard, rushing through his mind like the fuse of a firework until it hit its explosive crescendo, ending in the gas leak and collapsed home that ultimately killed Sebastian’s parents. When he came to reality, Ominis felt his lungs burning as he breathed heavily, and sweat dripped down his brow.

“See?” he panted. “It’s that. The lack of control. Like the lack of control you feel with Anne being ill. How you feel about your Uncle Solomon. How you felt about your—”

He stopped, his senses returning though his gut still swirled. Even Sebastian breathed heavier.

“I… I’m sorry,” said Ominis, composing himself and standing up straight. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want to keep knowing these things. They scare me.” “But Ominis, your powers are incredible. It’s like you can know anything about a person just by concentrating. You can use your powers to win at these death bets. You can use them to win at anything.” “I guess…” “If you keep using them like this, who knows how much money you could get. Ominis, you’re sitting on a gold mine!” “Shh!” “Sorry,” Sebastian whispered again. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But we should keep participating in these death bets and honing your skill.”

Ominis frowned. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that after his invasive search through Sebastian’s memories. But he liked his mum being happy. He liked the praise he got from the death betters. And what he liked most of all was making a friend.

[mediocre-writerr]

betty [quinn fabray]

quinn fabray x fem reader

summary: the last part of my quinn fabray mini series! this takes place in the pov of quinn and her side of the story! enjoy : )

*not my gif*

“Quinny?” my mom poked her head through the door, “You got to get ready for school.” she says softly. 

I groaned as I shoved my head into a pillow. I didn’t want to go to school today or well ever for that matter. 

And you’re probably thinking: Quinn what teenager actually wants to go to school? 

i did...once. When I didn’t fuck up the best thing that ever happened to me. Meeting her at her locker, holding her hand down the hall, singing songs to her in glee club. All of it. But that’s all faded away like a moment in time. 

“Not today.” I mumble. 

“Quinn, honey, I let you miss so much school these past couple months. I need you to go just this once.” she whispers before closing the door. 

I let out another groan as I pulled the covers off my body. Stumbling my way into the bathroom. As I look in the mirror the pit that was in my stomach continued growing. 

I hated how I looked. I hated how I felt. I fucked up. It was all on me.

And it all started at junior prom.

“Love, dance with me!” Y/N yelled over the loud music that was playing, trying to pull me out of my seat at the table I was sitting at. 

I smiled widely at her enthusiasm before raising my eyebrows at her. She knows I hate the crowds. Sure, I was popular and wanted the attention.

But there’s a difference between walking down the hall like a bad ass than being trapped in a crowd of thousands, feeling like you’re suffocating and sweating.

“This is my favorite song.” she pouted when I gave her the look. 

I pulled the hand that she had in her hand closer to me. Giving it a sweet kiss, “Next dance, I promise.”

She pouts a little before running back off to the dance floor. I sat there drinking the spiked punch, letting the alcohol burn all the way down my throat and into my stomach. Leaving a warm sensation behind. 

I watched Y/N’s every move. She wasn’t very far away from where I was planted. Jumping up and down, doing crazy dance moves, with Sam. 

I love Sam with every bone in my body, but I was always jealous of the blonde boy. He was a nice guy, funny, good looking and super close to Y/N. 

“Looks like your girlfriend is having more fun with Sam, than she is with you.” Santana says, leaning against the chair I was sitting on.

“I don’t like the crowds. She knows that. She’s just trying to enjoy her prom.” I mumble, trying to ignore her snide remarks. 

Santana hums in response before taking a sip of her own punch, “Sure, let’s keep telling yourself that. And I’ll be the one saying ‘I told you so’ when she leaves you for him.” 

That was it. That’s what started my insecurities. 

Was I good enough for Y/N? Or will she find her own non-complicated love with Sam or Finn? Was Santana right?

After procrastinating for God knows how long, I finally made it to school. 

“Quinn!” Mercedes yelled getting my attention away from locker. 

I tried forcing on my best smile, “Hey what’s up?” 

“You’re coming to Y/N’s party tonight right? Everyone’s gonna be there! I don’t want you to miss it.” Mercedes said.

I shook my head looking down at my shoes, “No. I wasn’t planning on going. I don’t think she would want me there anyway.” I mumble.

Mercedes looked at me sympathetically, “Well I want you to come. Dig yourself out of the depressing hole you’re in and come hang out with people who care about you. Think about it, okay?” 

I nod before she goes running off to talk to Kurt. I open my locker and stare at the cardigan hanging off of one of the hooks. My eyes dart around my locker to see the pictures of the two of us hanging on the walls. 

I miss her.

The bell rings and I weave my way through the somewhat crowded walls and into my anatomy class for homeroom. I take my seat next to Jacob Ben Israel and sigh softly. 

“Alright class take your seats!” Mr. Barnson yells as he walks in the door, taking his bag off.

I look at the empty stool next to me. Y/N wasn’t in here today. She must’ve stayed home. I wish I could’ve, especially after what happened yesterday. 

“Jacob, you’re going to be Ms. Fabray’s new lab partner.” he says and I watch as Jacob’s eyes lighten up.

The afro-hair kid coming to sit next to me, “Can I smell your hair?” he asks, disturbingly. 

I shutter in disgust and raise my hand, “Yes Ms. Fabray?” 

“What happened to Y/N?” I ask.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N switched homerooms this morning.” he says nonchalantly while looking back at his list for attendance. 

Oh. 

The day went on and on, dragging like a bad movie that wouldn’t end. Until finally it did. 

I walked to school today. I’ve been walking to school the past couple months. It was a nice break to just clear my head and think about everything. Sometimes it hurt to do, but it was much needed. 

I didn’t want to go straight home today. I didn’t want to go home and just lock myself in my room, curling up into a ball of nothingness. So I walked around more. 

“Quinn? Do you need a ride?” I hear a voice ask.

I turn towards the voice to see Mike and Tina in his car, “No thanks. I think I’m just gonna walk.” 

“Okay. Well we’ll see you tonight, right? We all miss hanging out with you.” he suggests.

“I don’t know.” I say looking anywhere, but them.

“You should.” Tina says before the light turns green and they drive off with a wave. 

I continued walking until I found myself at the mall need Breadstix. I hate the mall. 

I used to love going there with Santana and Brittany back during sophomore year of high school. When I was dating Finn and head Cheerio, but now it just reminds me of everything that went wrong. 

When my insecurity was at its greatest peak. 

“Hello beautiful!” I say as I answer Y/N’s phone call, walking through the mall. 

“Hi love! I miss you so much.” she whispers and I smile softly.

I hear rustling coming from her side of the phone, another girl’s voice, “I miss you more.” I say softly, “Who are you with?”

“Oh I’m with my friend Lizzie. She’s also a intern here and we’re just having dinner! She’s really cool!” Y/N said excitedly.

The rest of the conversation was about her internship and the amazing stuff she was learning and the new people she was meeting. How much she was having.

I should have been happy for her, but all I could think about what was, how much her life is better without me? What a fun life she could have without me? 

I left the mall that I was once walking in and nothing seemed good enough to buy. I was getting closer to my house as I was walking on the broken cobblestone. Just thinking about her.

How much I just want her to come back home and into my arms. How much I want her to let me know that I’m the only one she wants and that I am good enough for her.

Someone’s car came by slowing down next to me as they rolled their window down, pulling me out of my thoughts. Santana was sitting in the driver’s seat with her sunglasses on. Her usual high pony was down which revealed her curly brunette hair. 

She looked like a figment of my worst intentions. Her lips stained with a dark red lipstick and the way she was eyeing me. It just sent shivers down my spine. 

“Quinn, get in, let’s drive.” 

And those four words was all it took. Well four words and a human full of loneliness. 

A car honks shaking me from that terrible terrible memory. Leaving me with a mind and head full of thoughts. 

Should I go to the party tonight? Will she want me there? Will I regret not going? 

There’s two ways me going would play out.

1.) I would get there and she would open the door and slam it on my face. Then she would open it again just to tell me to go fuck myself. 

I shutter at the thought of the most likely scenario. The sun was setting turning the sky into a cotton candy looking sky. What a beautiful sky for a stressful decision. 

Santana laid next to me on the grassy field of my backyard. It was a cotton candy color as the orange hue blended with the dreamy blue. 

I spent the week driving around with Santana. We would go exploring the small town in Lima or just drive around singing to random songs. 

We laid there in silence just staring up at the sky. She took my hand in hers intertwining them together. And in that moment I didn’t care. I wanted to feel something, anything. 

Anything besides this pit of loneliness. 

She turned her head towards mine. And in a beat her lips were on mine. It was soft at first yet passionate. Then the next thing I knew, clothes were flying off, and hands were roaming. 

2.) Y/N opens the door and sees me standing there. I apologize for everything, she leads me to our spot in the backyard. And kiss me in front of everyone. 

Yeah like that would ever fucking happen. 

I didn’t know what I was expecting when Y/N came back from Pennsylvania. After the many nights spent with Santana, I dropped her. Or well ghosted her I should say.

I didn’t answer her calls or her texts. I knew what I did was wrong and I decided to just end it before things could get any worse. 

Was it fucked up? 

Yes, but I did what I had to try and salvage what I had left in our relationship.

I thought I could get away with it too. Until the guilt started eating me alive. The pit in my stomach wasn’t loneliness, it was guilt. 

And then Santana told Brittany. Brittany told Artie. Artie told Tina. Tina told Mike. Mike told Puck. Puck told Mercedes. Mercedes told Kurt. Kurt told Blaine. Blaine told Rachel. Rachel told Finn. Finn told Sam. Then finally, Rachel told Y/N since no one else had the heart to. 

Y/N slammed my locker shut causing me to flinch back, “Tell me she’s lying.” she whispers, her voice breaking. 

“Who’s lying love? What happened?” I say attempting to take her in my arms, but she took a step back.

“Tell me that you didn’t hook up with Santana while I was gone. And that it’s some weird vendetta against you.” she whispers staring at me. 

I couldn’t lie to her anymore. It was killing me. I didn’t want to lie anymore. I just needed to tell her. 

I just stared at her desperately trying to find an explanation. Desperately trying to apologize and explain everything to her, but no words came out.

“Y/N-”

“You did didn’t you?” Y/N asked barely in a whisper.

I nodded sadly and a sob escaped her lips. 

“Y/N please let me-” I try to say and she shakes her head.

“No. We’re done Quinn!” she yells in between sobs running off. 

I looked up and found myself in front of Y/N’s house. 

I wasn’t trying to go here. I guess my feet just carried me here. The party was in full swing and through her window I could see her just sitting there, nursing a cup. 

Her favorite song was playing and she wasn’t dancing. She was just sitting there, trying to smile, but was struggling too. 

It hurt me, knowing that I’m the reason for her pain. 

I hesitantly knocked on the door and the door flung open. Y/N was standing there and she was shocked, but her eyes softened. But it didn’t matter anymore because she covered it up with a harder shell. 

She came out and stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

“Happy birthday.” I whisper.

She mumbles, “Thanks.” 

“Can we talk please?” I ask.

She was thinking about it. I could tell. Her eyes were furrowed and she was biting her lip. She looked in deep thought before nodding and leading me to the backyard garden.

There was a bench swing hanging from the trees. And we took a seat on there together. 

This is the spot. Our spot. 

We had our first kiss here. I asked her to be my girlfriend here. Everything happened right here. 

“Y/N I’m sorry. And before you say anything I know. I know sorry means nothing and it has no excuse for what I did. But I am so deeply sorry. I don’t know much and I don’t have much to say because I wasn’t expecting to come tonight But I do know that I miss you and you were the best thing that has ever happened to me.” I whisper letting all of the tears spill. 

She lets out a shaky sigh, “I know. I forgive you.” 

I smile softly and I try to lean in to kiss her, but she immediately pulls back. Leaving me embarrassed and heartbroken.

“Just because I forgive you doesn’t mean that I want to get back together. I know you know that what you did was wrong. And I trust you when you say that it wasn’t anything special. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I love you Quinn Fabray, but I just can’t do this right now.” she whispers back.

She begins to wipe away the tears from my cheeks. I took in a deep breath before embracing the feeling of her touch. Y/N closes her eyes and rests her forehead on top of mine. 

I cup her cheeks into my hands. My thumb trying to memorize all of the crevasse, cheek bones, every little feature. 

“I will always love you and maybe we’ll be together one day. Just not today.” she whispers pulling away and kissing my cheek softly, “Goodbye Quinn.” 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In the Neighbourhood

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, very lightly edited

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After your grandmother breaks her hip, you volunteer to look after her as she recovers but her neighbour is a bit too friendly.

Note: @lokislastlove​ thinks I won’t call her out anymore but I’m calling her out and you should too. Always blame her.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your grandmother’s house never changed. Nestled between two larger homes and with grass as green as the next, it was as perfect as any along the suburban sprawl. Inside, the same framed pictures of your mother and your aunt and uncle, those of you, your siblings, and your cousins, and family members you only saw at reunions. All of them far away. All of them keeping her company only in the still images. None of them coming to care for her; none but you.

You didn’t mind so much. With two degrees under your belt, you were ready to start your novel as you pondered a third. Your online transcription job was easy enough to travel with and you loved your grandmother. The least you could do was help her out in her recovery. A broken hip but otherwise okay. She couldn’t do much from her wheelchair and you feared a worse injury if she tried.

You moved in on a Sunday. The family next door, the Barbers, were the perfect picture of a suburban clan. Andy introduced himself and his wife, Laurie, and their quiet son, Jacob. Then they asked if your grandmother, Lucille, was coming to their barbecue that afternoon and invited you along with her. Your grandmother confirmed that she didn’t want to miss out on Laurie’s potato salad because she’d tripped on a rug.

So you wheeled her over, careful as the grass slowed the chair, and you angled her through the open gate. You seemed to be the last to arrive. The air smelled of searing beef and swirled with the buzz of voices. You stood behind your grandmother’s chair as you looked around nervously and a plump woman with short curly white hair approached.

“Darla!” You grandmother greeted. “You’re back from your little getaway.”

“Arn was keen to come home,” The woman smiled up at you and back to your grandmother. “I heard you had a bit of an incident.”

“Oh, still spry, but the damn doctor has me ‘takin’ it easy’,” You grandma sneered. “I’ll be up at it before long. This is my granddaughter, you remember her, don’t you?”

“I do,” Darla smiled though you barely remembered her. “So sweet of you to come down to look after our Lucille.”

“It’s nothing,” You said. “I owe her. I spent too many holidays on campus.”

“That you did,” Your grandmother chided. “But do go on and socialise, dear. There must be someone here your own age. Or closer to. You can’t be lettin’ yourself get caught up with us old biddies.”

“I’m fine,” You chuckled. “Really.”

“You go. Get something to drink.” You grandmother snapped her fingers. “Mingle!”

You huffed but left her with Darla and another woman, you were certain her name was Betty, passed you on her way to join them. You looked around. The wives were in their clusters and the men drank from brown bottles as they laughed and talked about sports. You didn’t know about children or baseball. 

You went to the end of the table, just by the barbecue, a cooler open and waited as a young boy claimed a can of Orange Crush. You reached inside and took out a grape soda. The lid of the barbecue closed and you turned to face its master; Andy smiled as you blinked at him.

“That’s the kid’s cooler,” He said. “There’s a mini fridge in the garage if you want something stronger.”

“I’m good with this,” You cracked the can. 

“I thought you were a college girl,” He said as he set down his long spatula.

“Graduated.” You assured him. “Never was big on the scene though.”

“Really?” He lifted a brow. “I kinda miss it.” He stepped around the barbecue, closer to you. “It was a while ago now but it was fun. You know,” He put his hands on his hips as he looked across the yard. “I was in a frat with Carson over there,” He nodded to skinny man holding a bottle of water amid the sea of brown glass. “We got in quite a bit of trouble. Maybe I wrote a few of my exams drunk but didn’t do much harm.”

“Oh yeah?” You said dully. “What do you do now?”

“Law. Assistant district attorney.” He preened. “But don’t worry, I can still have fun.”

He winked and you squinted at him. He was an old man trying to relate to a youth. There was what, ten, fifteen years between you? Wasn’t that much, really, and yet it was.

“Legal fun,” You suggested.

“Well, the immoral isn’t always illegal,” He mused. “So… Miss Graduate, you have a job lined up?”

“I work online for now but I’m writing, too.” You shrugged. “Nothing fancy but it’ll do for the time being. Until my grandma’s better.”

“That’s a nice thing you’re doing,” He said. “You know, not a lot of people I know my age would drop everything to go care for family.”

“Least I can do,” You sipped from the can. “She always did make the best lemon meringue. It has its perks.”

He chuckled and backed up as he grabbed the spatula again and opened the barbecue.

“Offer stands,” He called over the smoke. “Beer’s in the garage.”

“Thanks,” You smiled and slowly walked away. This was like that party you’d spent hiding on the porch; awkward as hell.

🏡

The first two weeks passed swiftly. You woke up, made breakfast for your grandmother, her usual oatmeal and tea, then you spent a few hours working online, then lunch, an hour of writing, a walk through the neighbourhood, some alone time, dinner, and then some nightly crime dramas with your grandmother. Each day was identical to the last and you felt the vaunted slog of suburban life.

It was Saturday. You needed to get out. Your grandmother even encouraged it. A few hours at the bar, drinking, dancing, you returned with a guy, Gabe, you met there, hushing him as you snuck him in the front door. 

The house was dark as you climbed the stairs carefully and ushered Gabe into your bedroom. You closed the door and grabbed him as you stumbled to the bed. It was messy, hurried, and desperate. Entirely regrettable as you laid staring out the window at the sky after. You didn’t have time to ask him to leave before he started snoring.

You slept for a few hours and woke as the sun began to rise. You poked the stranger you knew as Gabe until he woke up and you threw his clothes at him before you dressed. You peeked into the hall and waved him out behind you. You led him down the stairs and to the front door. He left you with some empty nicety and you hid your wince. It wasn’t your first one night stand but it was definitely the worst.

“Fun night?” You turned as Andy descended the steps of his porch and opened his car door.

“You work on Sundays?” You grumbled. You hoped he hadn’t seen your regret walking away.

“Not usually but I got some hours to make up.” He dropped his briefcase in the back seat and closed the door. “I know that guy. Pretty sure he’s still on probation for the molly he was dealing at the mechanics.”

“Ugh, no.” You covered your face. “You saw?”

“I got a bit curious as I was finishing my coffee.” He pointed to the window with lacy curtains. “Great view just above the sink.”

“So you’re one of those neighbours?” You crossed your arms.

“I seem nosy but really I’m just looking out for you.” He opened the driver’s side door and planted his hand on the roof of the car. “Look, you don’t know the people around here. I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I won’t be seeing him again.” You retreated to the door and stopped there. “Boring, to say the least.”

“Heh,” Andy scoffed. “Really?”

“Not that it’s any of your business.” You rolled your eyes and stepped inside, closing the door with a snap. You went to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. “Hey, grandma,” You called as you began to climb. “You ready to get up?”

🏡

At the end of the next week, you took your grandmother to her check up. Her recovery was on track but she had a long way to go. The doctor was optimistic that at her next appointment, she’d be ready to use her walker more often.

As you helped her out of the car and got her settled in her chair, you ignored the roar of the mower in the next yard. You’d seen Andy as you drove up. He was pushing the machine back and forth across his already perfectly manicured yard; shirtless. As you turned to push your grandmother up the walk, you couldn’t help but notice that he was in great shape for his age. For any age, really.

“Hey,” He yelled over the motor and shut it down. “How’s it going, ladies?”

“Andy,” Your grandmother chimed. “Great! Doc says I’m doing well.”

“Mmhmm,” You mumbled, still slightly embarrassed over your last interaction with the man.

“Well, seeing as I’m already out here and you already had such a busy day, I could do your lawn while I’m at it?” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and you quickly tore your eyes away from his chest. 

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” Your grandma giggled. “It’s so hot out here.”

“I don’t mind,” He insisted. “Laurie’s gone to see her parents with Jacob so I’m just trying to keep myself busy.”

“Twist my arm, why don’t ya?” Your grandmother shook her hand. “Fine! Sweetie,” She reached back and tapped your hand. “Let’s go make some lemonade for this young man so he doesn’t overheat.”

Andy smiled and you nodded at him awkwardly. You wheeled your grandmother up the newly installed ramp and inside. She ordered you to the kitchen and directed you to the lemons hidden in the crisper.

“The juicer is just under there.” She pointed to the cupboard, “And you’ll want to add some sugar.”

“I know how to make lemonade, grandma,” You said as you pulled out the pitcher.

“That Andy’s a nice man,” She said. “So helpful… handsome too. It’s too bad you’re so young… and he’s so married.”

“Stop,” You warned. “You said the same thing about your doctor.”

“Yes, but he’s a doctor. He’s rich.” She snickered. “And not married, just not into your type.”

“Grandma,” You snipped. “Really.”

“I don’t know how your mother ended up with you.” She said. “She was such a little troublemaker.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard,” You said as you washed the lemon juice from your hands and added water and sugar to the pitcher. “I think her stories were more a warning.”

“Too smart for your own good,” She tutted as you mixed the lemonade.

You went to the cupboard and grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer as you set a glass on the counter. You poured the lemonade and gave her a sour look. 

“You think you can look after yourself for a few minutes?” You asked dryly.

“Girlie, I was taking care of you while you were in diapers,” She narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, how the tables have turned.”

“I don’t wear diapers,” She hissed as you neared the door. “Yet.”

You went out the front door as Andy pushed the mower across the yard just along the walkway. He stopped and looked over at you. He shut down the motor again and neared you as you came down the steps to hold out the glass. He thanked you and took a big gulp before he handed it back.

“You know, I didn’t mean anything,” He said. “The other day. Sometimes… I say stuff without thinking.”

“It’s… whatever.” You shrugged and set the glass on the rail of the porch. “No hard feelings.”

“I just got a hot tub. Just gotta hook it up and it’s ready to go.” He said. “You should stop by later. Get a soak in.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You stood at the top of the steps. “I don’t wanna leave grandma all alone. She wants to watch Casablanca tonight. I promised we would.”

“Maybe another night.” He offered. “You work so hard. You deserve a break.”

“Maybe,” You said evasively as you turned and crossed the porch. You glanced back as you opened the door and he was still looking at you.

“Lemonade’s good.” He smiled. “Thanks.”

🏡

You finished lunch and left your grandmother to her puzzle at the dining room table. You went upstairs to change the shirt you’d spilled mustard down; it was all you could smell. You tore off your shirt and tossed it on the bed. You rounded the bed to the dresser that sat just below the window and opened the draw. Movement caught your eye and you looked up across the space between yards.

Andy’s eyes met yours through the windows. You’d never realised they were adjacent, let alone so easy to see through. He wore a towel around his waist, freshly showered and his gaze strayed for just a moment. You blanched and pulled out a shirt and covered yourself with it. He smirked and tilted his head. Then he winked and a shiver went through you.

You grabbed the curtain and closed it so forcefully you nearly bent the rod. You backed away and put the shirt on properly. Surely, he was being funny. A tense, awkward moment. What else could he do but make a joke? Well, it wasn’t a very good one.

🏡

You stayed inside for the better part of a week. Aside from your walks with your grandmother and a trip to the grocery store, you kept your curtains closed, and hid yourself away. Maybe you’d built it up in your mind but you were just set off-kilter by the wordless interaction. Since, you felt as though you’d been walking a tightrope, too afraid to look down.

But that night, your grandmother wanted to sit outside. It was warm and the nights were shorter; later. You wheeled her out, a book on her lap, and as you made to skirt back inside, he appeared. Andy had impeccable timing. It made you wonder if he was watching you; if he had been for much longer than you knew. Well, now you were just being paranoid.

“Hey,” He stood at the edge of the yard. “Beautiful night.”

“Sure is,” You grandma replied. “I’ve got a new book and I’m ready to enjoy the breeze.”

“Oh, a new book? What’s it about?” He asked as he neared tentatively.

“Another scary one.” She cracked the cover. “Or so I hear. Skinwalkers taking over a whole city.”

“Ah, spooky,” He commented and looked at you. “And you?”

“Writing. Inside.” You said evenly.

“I figured since it was so nice, I was finally gonna try out my new Jacuzzi,” He said. “I just… I did promise you a soak so I thought maybe--”

“Eh, I don’t know.” You neared the door. “I really should try to get some writing done.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Your grandmother intoned. “You’ve been on that computer all day. You should go, relax.”

“Really, I--”

“Laurie might join us. She’s inside doing some work.” He piped up. “She wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Go on! I’m getting sick of ya anyway,” Your grandmother snorted. “You could stand to loosen up.”

“Grandma,” You huffed.

“Go get changed,” She ordered and smiled at Andy. “She’ll be over shortly.”

You blinked and tried to hide your irritation. You went inside before Andy could notice and you stormed upstairs. You weren’t even sure you’d packed a suit. You searched through the dresser. The curtains were still drawn tight. You found your old pink bikini with the white flowers. Really? It had to be that one?

You changed, reluctantly. It couldn’t have covered less of you. You found a tee shirt and pulled it over. You descended the stairs again and stepped out on the porch.

“Thanks for that, grandma.” You scowled.

“I can see why you were never popular,” She laughed. “Go. Have fun. This old lady can handle herself.”

You stomped down the steps beside the ramp and stopped at the border of the yards. You sighed and went to the gate, it was open in expectation of you. You heard the whir of jets before you entered. Andy was just beside the hot tub, testing the temperature with his hand as you stood across from him. He looked up and gave a crooked smirk.

“Andy,” The back door opened and Laurie appeared. “Oh, hey.” She smiled at you before turning back to her husband. “I’m gonna pass. Gina’s not going to make it in tomorrow so looks like I’ll be up all night.”

“Damn, that’s too bad,” Andy said. “More tub for us I guess.”

“Yes, love you too,” She said dryly. “You enjoy yourself. And don’t leave that thing on all night.”

“Yes, honey,” He said before she shut the door. “Love you.”

You swallowed. Your mouth was dry. Maybe you had been a bit presumptuous. Andy climbed into the jacuzzi and lowered himself into the warm water with a sigh. You hesitated to get closer but you did. He watched you, expectantly. You grabbed the edge and tried to will yourself in.

“You’re wearing that?” He nodded to your tee.

“Yeah,” You lifted your leg over the side.

“You don’t gotta be shy,” He grinned.

You paused and frowned at him.

“I’m joking,” He said. “The other day. That was… funny. Bad timing.”

“Mhmm,” You drew your other leg over and carefully sat.

“You met any more cute guys?” He asked suddenly. You squinted.

“What?” 

“Not much to do around here, you know? Pretty boring.”

“No. I don’t--” You sputtered. “I don’t think it’s a very good idea. Once my grandma’s better, I’ll be going.”

“Still, it’s lonely.” He said softly. 

“What do you care?” You asked, harsher than intended. 

He was quiet. He leaned back and looked over at the house then back to you. He exhaled and spread his arms over the edge.

“So… that toy you hide in your night table? You always use it or you ever just… feel yourself?”

Your heart sank. You felt as if you would choke on air. Had you imagined his words?

“What did you just--”

“Took you long enough to catch on,” He said. “Got a good view of you when I can’t sleep but… not anymore. Too bad.”

“Andy,” You stood and the water splashed around you. “You-- You’re-- Laurie, she--”

“I haven’t fucked her in months. This is what she does.” He sat forward and caught your hand. “She works. All the time. I try and she… just doesn’t want to.”

“Let me go.” You struggled with him. “You’re disgusting. You’re married!”

“Me? Fucking awful some young girl strolls into town and tries to seduce a married man? What would grandma think? And Laurie? She’s not one to sit back and be humiliated.” He tugged on you. “I have a reputation around here. You’re just a stranger, and apparently one, who fucks strangers.”

“What are you talking about?” You nearly slipped as he spun you back to him. “You’ve been watching me and--”

“I’m just a neighbour looking out for you,” He pulled even harder and your feet slid across the bottom of the jacuzzi, forcing you to catch yourself on him. “Like I do all my neighbours. They would confirm as much.”

“Get--” You grabbed his arm as it snaked around you. “Andy! Laurie--”

“Doesn’t give a fuck and if she came out, well, she’d only realise what’s she’s pushed me to.” 

You wriggled as he held you to him. He drew your leg over his so that you straddled his lap. You pushed on his chest and grunted.

“You keep it up and everyone will hear. Even sweet old nana.” He snarled. “I saw you looking at me that day… when you brought me lemonade.”

“No, no,” You rasped.

“I’m old, not that old,” He purred. “As you can obviously see.”

“Let me go. Please.” You begged. He was too strong and your arms only ached from pushing against him. “Andy--”

“Shhh,” He grabbed your chin with his wet hand and pulled you close until your lips almost met his. “In this town, rumours travel. It might be old news that you left a bar with that dumb kid but now, it’s evidence.” His hand slipped down your neck and squeezed. “Such a bad girl.”

“No one would--”

“They have no reason not to believe me,” He rolled up your wet shirt with his other hand. “Annie across the street, she likes gossip. She’s seen you flirting with me, at least that’s how she told it to Laurie but you know, my wife just laughs it off. And now she’s no doubt seen you come into my backyard in just this.” He pulled your shirt higher. “And her mind is going wild.”

“I can’t--”

“How long did he last? A minute? Less?” He snarled and his other hand slipped down to draw your shirt up. You kept your arms down as you tried to resist. “Bet you could wait to use your little toy.”

“Stop,” You pleaded.

“Get your arms up.” His voice was deep and dangerous. “And stop your whining.”

You stopped and stared at him. His blue eyes burned into yours and sent a shiver through you. His fingertips pinched your hips as they crawled under your shirt and he pushed it higher.

“You don’t shut up and someone will hear, sweetie,” He warned. “Up.”

He tugged until you raised your arms. A wave of bile rose in your chest and you let him peel away your wet shirt and reveal the skimpy bikini beneath. He dropped the cotton over the side of the tub and his hands grazed the triangles of your top.

“Cute,” He hummed. “You hiding this from me?”

You were quiet, sickened. With him, with yourself. You knew you couldn’t fight, wouldn’t. You remembered the barbecue and how you’d been the odd one out. Recalled how Andy had talked to almost every person there. Everyone loved him and no one knew you.

“Mmm mm mm,” His fingertips walked around your neck and he picked at the knot behind your neck. The straps loosened and he let your top fall and expose your chest. 

He bent to bury his face against you and nibbled along your tits. You looked, startled, to the back door. It was still shut. A light glow from a bedroom above and the distant beat of music escaped through the slightly opened bedroom window. Another light died on the first floor and was replaced by a second on the top floor, reflecting against yours on the other side. 

You quivered as Andy took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. You felt it in your core as his hand cupped your other tit. He reached beneath you and played with the edge of your bottom. He drew you back as he leaned against the side of the tub and lifted his pelvis, and you with him. He tugged on his shorts and sat back down.

You felt hollow and a cloud of panic filled your stomach. You struggled against you and he bit you. You squeaked as his teeth threatened to break the skin and stilled. He parted and looked up at you.

“Be a good girl,” He felt beneath you and began to stroke himself.

“Please--”

“Shhh,” He turned his hand and hooked his fingers in your bottoms, pulling them aside. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He rubbed his tip against your folds. “It’ll be good.” He drew you to him and angled you over his dick. “Better than ever before.”

He forced you down and your lips formed an o as he entered you. You latched onto his shoulders without thinking and he pushed you to his limit. His lips and teeth returned to your chest as he once more began to toy with you. You quivered as he began to rock your hips.

The water swished around you, swirling and slapping against your skin. You held your breath as you tried not to cry out. You hissed as you dug your nails into his shoulders and let him guide you. Despite yourself, despite everything, it felt good. It felt wonderful. He was right and you were weak.

“You like that?” He nuzzled your throat. “Is this what you think of at night, huh?”

You bit your lip as he kneaded your hips and kept your moving.

“I think of it all the time,” He muttered. “All the time. Maybe…” His breath caught and he groaned. “Maybe I could offer to take you grocery shopping, hmm? We could have some fun in the car…”

“Andy…” You whimpered. “No, we can’t-- not again…”

You grasped his wrists and tried to push yourself off of him. A semblance of sanity returned to you as you looked him in the face. His eyes were dilated and dusky. He was entranced; incorrigible. You struggled as he held you down.

“This is wrong--”

He shoved you off him as his lip curled. You stumbled back and caught yourself on the other side of the tub. The water splashed as he stood behind you and grabbed your arm. He turned you over and pushed you over the siding, a jet blowing against your pelvis.

“Doesn’t feel wrong to me.” He growled.

He held you down with a large hand between your shoulders as he pushed your legs apart with his knee. He pressed against you and searched for your entrance, swiftly impaling you. You choked down a mewl as your hips crashed into the wall of the tub. He leaned his weight on you entirely as he rutted into you without relent. You were certain someone would hear the clapping of flesh or the stir of water all around.

“You’ll do what I want, when I want,” He sneered. “And from what I can tell, you’ll like it.”

“Andy--” Your voice fizzled as the pressure mixed with the steady stream of the jet as it hit your cunt. 

You held in a moan as you hung over the side of the tub, the blood pounding in your head as you panted wildly. You covered your mouth, afraid you would cry out as the coil inside you twisted and twisted. Your legs quaked as you orgasmed.

Andy’s hand gripped your hips and he pulled you back against him, again and again, using your body easily. You slid back and forth over the side and he bent over you, crushing you against the tub. He growled in your ear and his thrust jolted your body.

He pulled out suddenly, still looming over you as he stroked himself against your bikini and pressed his damp beard to your cheek as he shuddered. His hot cum spilled out onto the wet fabric and dripped down your thigh as he eased himself through his climax. He sighed and pushed himself from atop you, falling back into the water heavily.

You stayed as you were for a moment. Stunned. Shakily you stood and fixed your top and pulled your bottom straight. You couldn’t look at him. You climbed out of the tub and walked unsteadily across the grass.

“Ah, that was relaxing,” He said. “Come back anytime.”

You ignored him and continued onto the gate.

“Oh, and it’s supposed to be a cool night,” He called after you. “You should keep your window open.”

You slipped through and the gate creaked behind you and closed with a metallic click. You shivered as you kept to the side of your grandma’s house and entered through the back. You didn’t want anyone to see; you were certain they would know if they did.

[ptergwen]

pt2 of prom peter please!!! its so goodd!

a/n: sheesh it’s been a min! sorry for the wait & here’s part one <3

-

“are you sure you wanna do this?” peter asks betty, keeping his voice low and his eyes on you. you’re still out on the dance floor. brad is swaying you to the beat in his arms. “yes! are you sure?” betty whisper yells back. peter doesn’t answer, too caught up on watching someone else doing what he should be. she hits his chest with the back of her hand.

“yeah, uh, let’s go,” he rushes his words out. the two of them look back at ned and mj. they’ve decided to watch everything unfold from the comfort of their table. ned gives a thumbs up, mj presses her lips together. betty beams at them before taking peter’s arm and leading him over to the dance floor.

she said this idea as a joke earlier, but peter started to seriously consider it the longer he saw you gaze into brad’s eyes. she’s going to distract him so peter can dance with you. it also works in her favor because betty has a thing for him. peter just hopes brad doesn’t catch on to his crush on you. it would ruin everything.

betty drops peter’s arm once they get on the dance floor. they make their way through the sea of kids who are mostly grinding on each other or jumping around. quite a few grinders pass by them, all leaving peter with his mouth hanging open. at least you and brad aren’t doing... that.

they spot you up at the front of the room. you’re talking and holding onto brad’s shoulders. the music drowns out your conversation, so peter can’t make out what you’re saying. that’s not a problem for long because betty drags him over.

he yelps and stumbles forward, barely landing on his feet. it ends your conversation and catches your attention. betty speaks up before you turn around. “oh my god! there you guys are,” she cheerily greets you and brad, compensating for peter’s arrival. peter shakes out his suit jacket with a small smile.

“hey, betty,” you grin at her, smile faltering when your eyes land on peter. his cheeks are bright red from the series of events that just occurred. “you good, peter?” “great,” he mumbles out and glances up at brad. brad blinks at him curiously, then looks over at betty.

“you wanna join us? i could use a new dance partner,” he offers, you gasping in mock offense. his arms tighten around your waist. “this one’s pretty awesome, though.” you smile at that and take his hands. peter bites the inside of his cheek to keep in all the things he wants to say. what can he do, you really like brad.

“perfect! let’s switch.” betty pries brad’s arms from around you and gives you a push towards peter. she nods at him to signal that the plan is in motion. you make a funny face at brad, who makes a i have no idea face back before betty pulls him to the middle of the dance floor.

peter grimaces at betty’s abruptness and opens his arms to you. “wanna dance?” “i do,” you laugh out, easily winding your arms around his neck. the song switches to a slower one at that moment. that’s convenient. peter’s hands rest on either side of your waist as his longing eyes meet yours. you clasp your hands behind his neck, instantly settling in his touch.

“i’m not, uh, interrupting anything. am i?” peter makes sure. you move in closer so you can talk normally. “not at all. i said i’d spend some time with you tonight, remember?” you pull at the collar of his suit with your thumb and index finger. his features relax, a relieved smile replacing his nervous one. “right.”

you two fall into a comfortable silence, neither of you having much to say. you talk all the time and every day. there’s no need to fill the air with small talk, anyway. you’re content with peter simply holding you as quiet music fills the large room.

although you’ve been having the best time with brad tonight, he has an endless amount of energy that you can’t keep up with. this is a nice change of pace. peter knows when to tone it down, how to keep you close and calm. he’s such a good friend to you. a good friend.

“how are things with brad?” peter breaks the silence by asking, an edge to his question that you don’t miss. “really good. what have you been doing?” you try to change the subject. he gives you a dry “oh, nothing,” then gets back to brad. “are you guys, like, dating now?” “i don’t know yet. no, i guess not,” you breathe out, the hint of a smile on peter’s face.

“why?” your own face holds confusion, arms hanging over peter’s back now. he shrugs the question off. “no reason. let’s.... talk about something else.” his arms fully wrap around your waist, nose scrunched up. “let’s not talk at all,” you hide your face in his shoulder.

peter might need to make betty his wingman.

[zosonils-art]

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Relationship: Ferb Fletcher & Phineas Flynn

Characters: Ferb Fletcher, Phineas Flynn, Perry the Platypus (Phineas and Ferb), Linda Flynn-Fletcher

Additional Tags: Autistic Ferb, Autistic Phineas, autistic phineas is more implied and could also be taken as adhd but he has both anyway so, Autistic Meltdown, Autism, Sensory Overload, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Illustrations, Canon Continuation, Fix-It of Sorts, i think????? i don't frequent this goddamn website i don't know, Brotherly Love, Crying, some of the crying is me

Summary: A stressful day pushes Ferb past his breaking point, and Phineas feels that he has a responsibility to set things right. Takes place immediately after Ready For The Bettys. Was supposed to be a simple continuation fic but got wildly out of hand. Ph*n*rb shippers fuck off this isn't for you.

---

as you’ve probably figured out if you’re following my main, i recently wrote my first fic since i was about 13! it’s available on ao3 at the link above, but you can also read it on tumblr by clicking the readmore on this post! i put a lot of effort into this and it took a lot of courage to post, so feedback is greatly appreciated!

"Mom! Guess what Ferb did!"

Phineas bursts into the kitchen energetically, still buzzing with adrenaline from the day's adventure. Ferb follows a step or two behind. Linda turns her attention from the freshly baked pie in her hands to her sons, although Phineas is too beside himself with excitement to consider whether or not she's paying attention. "He made a secret tunnel, and a spy headquarters, and a villain's lair, and a hover jet shaped like Perry- tell her, Ferb!"

Ferb doesn't match Phineas' enthusiasm. In fact, at the moment, he's sick to death of it. He prepares to launch into the explanation he's been trying all day to give. "Actually, I-"

"Wait a second," Linda interrupts, eyeing the boys with suspicion. "Why are you two soaking wet?"

The interruption is just too much for Ferb. He doesn't even process the question, just lets out a harsh shout of frustration. Phineas recoils - Ferb almost never shouts. "I give UP!" Ferb yells, his voice shaking on the last syllable, and before either of his surprised family members can respond, he turns around and storms off, his destination betrayed by the distinct clunking rhythm of stairs being stomped on too hard and the sound of a door slamming upstairs.

For a moment, the kitchen is silent. Linda recovers before Phineas does, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Young man, that is not how we talk to each other in this house!" she calls, setting the pie tin and her oven mitts down on the kitchen counter and following Ferb's path to his room. Before she can make it to the doorway, though, her progress is halted.

"Mom, wait!" Phineas pleads. He's finally caught onto what's been going on all day, and although he's still only half processed it, he knows he doesn't want Ferb to be in trouble for it. He frantically tugs on Linda's arm to draw her attention. Once he's sure that she's stopped, he withdraws his hand (he's still wet, after all, he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable), but sidesteps around her to put his tiny body firmly between her and the doorway to the living room. "Mom, please don't be mad at Ferb, it- it's not his fault! I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, he's just..." Phineas' voice trails off briefly, but he forces it back into action, complete with the most serious expression he can manage. "If you're gonna be mad at either of us, it should be me, okay?"

At first, Linda returns Phineas' gaze with suspicion, then her face softens with realisation. She crouches down to her son's eye level, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Phineas, did something else happen today?" she asks, the anger gone from her voice.

Phineas hesitates, dropping eye contact again. He's almost certain about the cause of Ferb's outburst, and he can't help but mentally beat himself up for it to a degree. "Well, Ferb's been trying to tell me something all day, but he kept getting interrupted by our spy mission, and I guess it must have been really frustrating because he hates being interrupted but I didn't realise and-" he pauses to breathe, and shudders as he inhales as if on the verge of tears - "and I should have asked at some point but I just kept getting distracted and I didn't even realise how upset it was making him but-"

"Phineas," Linda says gently, and he gladly accepts the invitation to cut his rambling short. His breathing is shaky, but he doesn't cry just yet, even though his emotional state has nosedived in barely a minute. After giving him a moment to snap back into focus, Linda continues. "Phineas, honey, it sounds like this has just been a misunderstanding. On my end, too," she adds, regretting having snapped at Ferb earlier. Phineas nods with a nondescript mumble of agreement. Although he still obviously isn't looking, Linda gives him a reassuring smile anyway, accompanied by a gentle squeeze of his shoulder. "Thank you for telling the truth, sweetheart," she praises him.

"Mmh," Phineas mumbles, tugging at his shirt collar. He tends to fiddle with his shirt when he's nervous or overexcited. It doesn't hold a candle to bouncing his leg or flapping his hands, as far as stimming goes, but it's a lot easier to do while someone is touching you. "I just should've realised what was up earlier, then he probably wouldn't have freaked out..."

He finally glances up again, and the look his mom is giving him tells him that he should drop the argument, so he stops. Linda ruffles his hair affectionately, leaning forward to reach all the way behind Phineas' oddly-shaped head, and flinches at the unpleasant reminder of how waterlogged he still is. She stands up, flicking her hand dry. "I'm sure he knows you didn't mean to hurt his feelings," she reassures Phineas. "Why don't you dry yourself off and then go talk to him? Which reminds me," Linda motions towards the puddles tracked all over the kitchen floor, "why are you two so wet?"

"Oh, we fell in Isabella's pool," Phineas answers matter-of-factly. He isn't quite back to his usual blindingly sunny disposition, but the panicky tremble in his voice has at least disappeared.

Linda smiles, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Well, that I believe," she says. She'd tactfully decided not to comment on whatever that secret spy headquarters spiel was that Phineas had been getting worked up over, but she suspects his latest imaginary game took the boys to Isabella's backyard and ended up having some real-life consequences. "Oh, hi, Perry," she adds, as the platypus in question waddles into the kitchen.

Perry responds with his familiar chatter. Phineas leans down to pet Perry on the head. "At least you've had a stress-free day, huh," he says, then leaves for the bathroom. Perry stares at him blankly.

---

Ferb is having a meltdown.

He knows what this is, of course. He reads every textbook and blog post on the subject he can find, just in case it helps him make some more sense of himself. If he misses one, Phineas will no doubt have found and memorised it himself for the same reason, and will gladly rattle off anything new. Knowing why there's a raging storm beating at the inside of his head, however, is entirely different from quelling it. By the time he reaches his bedroom, he's trembling so violently that he can barely stand. He stumbles to his bed, pushing his hands down into the mattress to keep himself on his feet.

It's like feeling every feeling from every second of the day all in the same moment, and it hurts. So much is happening in his head that he can't even isolate a single thought, let alone process what it means. Is he angry? That'd make sense, sure, but his mental state isn't exactly conducive to deductive reasoning at the moment. Is he sad? Scared? Something else entirely?? He can't tell what emotion or mixture thereof it is, only that it's hurting his head, and he wants to get it out but he doesn't know how. He's struggling to breathe now, his arms shaking with the effort of keeping his body supported, and as he draws in a desperate shuddering breath Ferb feels something wet in his eye and then on his face, and he remembers that his entire body is wet and he hates it. It's cold, and his hair is sticking to his face and uncomfortably close to his eyes, and his clothes cling to his body oppressively and he wants to tear them off and stop feeling everything. Instead of doing that, he forces himself to breathe in again and looks around the room frantically, hoping to find something other than absolutely everything to concentrate on.

His eyes land on Phineas' bed, and although his vision is blurring as the panicky tears pour down his face, he recognises the shape instantly. Is he mad at Phineas? Should he be? He should be, right? If Phineas had just stopped to listen to him for once, he wouldn't be here with the world ending inside his brain. Another violent wave of emotion sends a shock through his whole body, and Ferb is still in no state to identify it, but he gets the message. He doesn't want to be angry. Not at Phineas. In fact, he doesn't want to feel anything he's feeling at the moment. Not the turbulent assault of everything inside his head, not the hammering rhythm of his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, not every tiny thing that touches his skin or the light from outside that still feels blinding through the curtains or the muffled sounds of conversation downstairs that he doesn't have room in his brain to translate into anything but more noise.

Sensory overload is another term Ferb knows, and it's another one that doesn't really help to know in the moment. The feeling of anxiety that's been growing in his chest since that morning finally becomes too much for his body to handle, and he collapses on his bed, weakly gripping the blanket for support. Burying his face in his covers blocks out most of the sunlight, at least, but it doesn't significantly improve his mood. He shivers, partly from cold thanks to still being uncomfortably wet, partly from the sobs making his whole body convulse. (When did those start? He doesn't remember.) He uses the last of his physical strength to pull himself fully onto his bed and curl into himself, trying desperately to calm himself down.

...

It's not working. Why isn't it working?? It's as if every effort to steady his breathing just makes him cry harder, every attempt at a calming thought being shattered into a thousand anxious ones by the merciless torrent of everything whirling around in his mind. Ferb is suddenly hyper-aware of how empty the room around him is, and it makes him feel helpless. It's the first feeling he's managed to connect a name to with absolute certainty this whole time, and it's terrifying.

If he was making any noise before in his attempts to control his breathing, he's stopped now. No sound escapes him as he lies in place, too preoccupied with the overwhelming barrage of thoughts in his brain to move. More than anything, Ferb wants his brain to just shut off. Everything in his mind blends into a horrible white noise that won't stop, threatening to drown him in static.

Through the raging mental cyclone, he just barely hears the knock at the door.

Phineas waits a moment before entering his room. He wants to make sure Ferb has time to process that he's here. A few seconds pass, then he opens the door slowly so that it doesn't make any sound. A stab of guilt hits him when he sees Ferb curled up on his bed, visibly distressed. He's facing the opposite wall, but the way he shudders as he breathes makes it obvious that he's crying. Phineas feels his heart sink. He'd really hoped it wouldn't be this bad.

"Hey," he says softly. Ferb grips himself tighter. Just a minute ago, Phineas would have been the last person he wanted to see, but now his desperation for comfort outweighs any lingering hints of animosity. He doesn't object to his brother's presence, so Phineas gently closes the door and walks over to his side of the room. He sits on the bed, watching Ferb to see if he reacts negatively to the shift in weight distribution, and tenses up slightly at how damp the blanket is. Of course, Ferb wouldn't have stopped to dry off on his way up here. A closer look confirms that while a lot of the water on his body has run off and soaked into his bed, Ferb is still almost as wet as he was when he arrived home. Phineas frowns - that can't be comfortable, and it's probably making him feel even worse. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Ferb curls into himself even more instead of asking. The question is so frustratingly rhetorical that he almost reconsiders the possibility of being angry, but the idea still scares him, so the feeling passes. Fortunately, Phineas understands the unspoken 'obviously not' with no further input, and continues to talk. "I'm really sorry about today," he begins. "I know you don't like being interrupted, and I should've realised that it was making you feel bad but I just wasn't paying enough attention and- and I'm sorry, because it's kinda my fault you got so upset," he apologises, not realising that he's holding back tears until he stops to breathe. He wills himself not to cry. He's here to try and make Ferb feel better, not guilt him into forgiveness.

It takes a second or two for Ferb to process what Phineas is saying. It's a struggle to drag the words through the confusing whirlwind of everything still rampaging through his head. Eventually, after a great deal of mental effort, he shakes his head in response. Perhaps he was angry before, he still can't tell, but he definitely isn't now. He can't manage anything beyond the simple gesture, but it's not the first time he's been utterly uncommunicative, so Phineas understands the meaning as well as he needs to: it's not your fault.

"Th-thanks," he stutters, although Ferb's acceptance does little to settle the crushing feeling of responsibility. "Next time you can speak I'll let you tell me whatever it is you needed to, okay? I promise." He smiles a little. "No more secret agent business to interrupt you."

The last sentence sure prompts a reaction from Ferb - he rolls over so that his face is entirely buried in the blanket and makes a frustrated noise without opening his mouth, his body shaking with some mixture of anger and physical strain. Phineas inhales sharply and recoils, no more prepared for an audible outburst from Ferb than the first time. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, already speed-testing possible answers in his head. "Did you not have fun today? Of- of course you didn't, that's why you're upset, but I thought you did a great job on the spy mission! It was really cool." He's trying to be reassuring, but Ferb just shakes harder, seemingly becoming more aggravated rather than less.

Phineas tilts his head in confusion. "Ferb? Ferb, it's okay, I-I'm sorry. Did... did it not go the way you planned?" he guesses, searching increasingly frantically for any change in Ferb's body language. "Hmm... oh, were you not finished building it yet?" He thinks back to Ferb's numerous attempts at speaking to him throughout the day, hoping that he'll find some clue that makes everything fall into place - and something clicks in his brain. He deflates a little at how painfully obvious the realisation seems in retrospect, with a soft "Oh." Sighing at his own ignorance, he directs his voice to Ferb again as he says, "You didn't actually build all that, did you?"

Ferb sits up slowly and turns to Phineas with his signature deadpan glare, the silent, biting sarcasm undermined significantly by the tears still falling from his eyes. Phineas hums concernedly. "Is that what you were trying to tell me?" he asks. Ferb gets partway through rolling his eyes before giving up and returning to the fetal position.

Phineas sighs sadly. He hates seeing his brother cry. There's nothing he wants to do more than pull him into the tightest hug he can manage, but he knows Ferb won't appreciate being touched in this state, so he opts to fiddle with his shirt again to keep his hands busy. "Who do you think did build that stuff?" he asks. Ferb doesn't care. On any other day, a secret spy lair being hidden under his house would be cause for immeasurable excitement, but after the day's events he's thoroughly sick of thinking about the subject. Phineas picks up on Ferb's antipathy towards the question and, sensing that it might be a sore topic for some time, decides not to bring it up again for a while. He'll satisfy his curiosity sometime when it doesn't come at the expense of Ferb's comfort.

An uncomfortable silence falls over the boys. It's broken when Ferb suddenly sniffles loud enough to make Phineas jump, sits up again, and halfheartedly tries to wipe the tears from his face. "Oh geez, hold on," Phineas says, leaning over to rummage through his short pockets. He eventually pulls out a wad of tissues, somehow unaffected by the earlier impromptu dive into Isabella's pool. He offers them with a gentle "here you go" to Ferb, who takes a few silently and scrubs at his eyes.

While he still doesn't feel good by any stretch of the definition, Ferb at least doesn't feel completely awful anymore. What was once a violent hurricane in his mind has receded enough that he can focus on the world around him without breaking down, at least for the time being, and he's left feeling just drained. He balls up his handful of tissues and tosses them at the bin under his desk. The ball makes it to Phineas' leg before unceremoniously bouncing to a stop. Phineas picks it up and throws it the rest of the way to the trash, standing up to do so.

Rather than sit down again, he kneels down and pulls out one of the drawers conveniently built into the bed. Ferb watches inquisitively, still too out of it to immediately catch onto what's happening. Phineas rummages a little before finally pulling out a pair of pyjamas, suggesting, "You should dry off and change your clothes." He pauses to think. "Can you make it downstairs to the bathroom by yourself?" he asks. At any other time, it would be a silly question, but Ferb is always exhausted after a meltdown. The visible effort it's taking him just to stay upright isn't lost on Phineas. Ferb ponders the question, then gives a tentative nod. He's definitely shaky, but he really wants to change into something dry.

"Great!" Phineas smiles encouragingly. "Should I bring the usual stuff to the living room? Your bed's probably not gonna feel comfortable until it dries out." Ferb glances down at the unmistakable damp silhouette of where he had been lying earlier and nods again, more confidently. He slowly gets to his feet, first pushing against his bed for support, then grasping the hand Phineas offers him. He lets go once he's certain he's regained his balance, and only then does Phineas hand him his pyjamas. "I'll come meet you downstairs, okay?" Phineas says. Then, pulling at the bottom of his shirt, which is still a bit soggy despite his best efforts to towel it off, he adds, "I should probably change into something dry as well."

---

Ferb rubs his eyes as he comes out of the bathroom, his drenched clothes swapped out for his much more comfortable pyjamas. He's stopped crying, it seems, but he's still feeling sensitive enough that the light from outside bothers him. He's relieved to discover that it's much darker in the living room - Phineas must have been here already. The curtains are drawn so that the lamp on the end table is the only light source in the room, softly illuminating its surroundings with a pleasant warm glow. He doesn't have the energy to analyse the entire room, even in these far more bearable conditions, but his attention is drawn to his favourite weighted blanket folded neatly on the couch. He sits down and drags the blanket over him, struggling a bit with the weight, but relaxing once he feels its reassuring pressure on his legs.

It's as he's settling into his position on the couch that Phineas enters with an "Oh, there you are, Ferb!". Perry is firmly but comfortably wedged under one of his arms, like a fuzzy teal football or loaf of bread, and seems altogether unbothered by his position. Ferb gasps quietly at the sight of Perry, his eyes brightening momentarily, and reaches out for him with various soft noises of urgency. Phineas wastes no time in setting Perry down next to Ferb, and the platypus reacts with a gentle, almost soothing chatter. Ferb instinctively mimicks the sound under his breath, and Perry responds with a nearly identical noise. Ferb echoes it again, slightly louder this time, and his face lights up with a weak smile, the first one he's managed all day.

Taking this as a sign of progress, Phineas sighs with relief as he sits on the sofa. He makes sure to maintain a respectful distance from Ferb, who's running a hand through Perry's fur as they echo the same low growling noise back at each other. (It pains Phineas not to join in, but he senses the two have gotten themselves into a groove that would be rude to interrupt.) Ferb's smile fades almost as soon as it appears, but he seems much more relaxed after the change in clothes and scenery. His hair is sticking up in every direction from being towelled dry, and Phineas stifles a laugh at how silly it looks. The back-and-forth chattering eventually dies down, and it's only then that Phineas continues. "Mom's gonna make you some tea, and she says if you aren't feeling better by dinner you can eat in here if you want," he says. Ferb turns to him and raises a thumbs-up briefly before returning his hand and focus to Perry.

Phineas quietly watches his brother for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want me to stay?" he asks. Exactly how sociable Ferb is while he's coming out of a meltdown varies. He almost invariably needs some time on his own to mentally reset, but sometimes it helps if someone he trusts is there to reassure him for a while first. In Phineas' experience, asking is always the best way to tell.

Ferb hesitates for a second, then surprises both of them with his answer, which is to turn and collapse into Phineas' lap with one arm hooked over his legs in a sort of pseudo-hug. Phineas tenses up, not sure how to react. He cautiously puts an arm around Ferb, in a comforting gesture that doesn't fully subject him to the overwhelming sensory experience of a true hug. Ferb doesn't fight it, just repositions himself so that he's lying down with Phineas as a makeshift pillow and sinks further into the gentle embrace. Phineas laughs softly. "Okay, I guess you do."

This is nice, Ferb thinks. Definitely an improvement over violently sobbing alone in his room. Perry must be feeling relaxed too, because he climbs onto Ferb's stomach, circles a few times, lets out one more chatter, then flops down and goes to sleep, purring gently. Phineas giggles at the platypus' behaviour, and Ferb's shoulders shake in silent laughter - his blanket absorbs enough of the sensation that it just tickles. Watching Perry doze off reminds him that he's still exhausted, despite the positive change in environment, and his attempt to stifle a yawn fails. He's still on high alert, and he knows he won't be sleeping for longer than a few minutes until the emotional clutter completely drains from his mind. With that said, both the blanket and Perry weighing down on him make for a pretty cosy combination, and he finds himself fighting to keep his eyes open. Maybe just a moment of rest will be good for him.

Before he knows it, his eyes are closed, and he's powerless to prevent himself from drifting off. Phineas accepts his new career as a pillow without comment, simply adjusting his right hand so that both his arms are positioned protectively around his brother. Being trapped in place for the time being doesn't worry him. Ferb won't mind being stirred awake when their mom arrives with his tea, and until then Phineas can easily occupy himself with thoughts of what to do tomorrow. Besides, he can subject himself to a few minutes of quiet if that's what Ferb needs. What kind of a brother would he be if he couldn't, right?

Ferb half-consciously brings a hand to Phineas' wrist, as if it'll float off if he isn't holding on. He can feel his brain shutting down, and he welcomes the change. The last thing he's aware of before his consciousness finally leaves him in peace for a moment is the sound of Phineas' voice, promising him, "You're gonna be okay."

[pink-peony-princess]

Who Said Anything About Tact?

Violet's walk had started out like any other. She was a person of habit,very rarely did she break her routine, and so how she came to be by Old Station Bridge,she couldn't be sure. One thing had led to another, she had noticed the way the late afternoon light was hitting the trees just across the small river, the field behind it backlit perfectly. So perfectly that she'd done what she'd so rarely done before and stopped to take a photo.

She'd been warned about the presence of wolves by her mother so many times before, the whole town of Mercy Falls knew about them. There were the Cresent Moon pack, feared amongst wolves, but of zero threat to humans, in fact they were well know to help protect their human neighbours whenever necessary. And then there were the rogues, the mean, vicious, unapologetically violent, wolves that were fixated on taking the town for themselves.

Unfortunately for Violet this was who she came to be in the presence of the day it happened.

She'd taken her photo and had made it no more than 30 metres down the road when she heard the first growl. At first she ignored it, maybe it was a trick of her imagination she thought shaking her head. But she heard it again, this time closer, and she had a weird feeling as though she was being watched.

Before she had time to react, she was hanging just above the ground sharp teeth cutting into her side as she screamed to no effect for the animal to drop her, it shook her the way a dog would shake its prey to kill it, showing no sign of letting her go. She would have sworn she heard a crack of bone, but she couldn't be sure because her whole body felt like one giant punching bag. She called out for help again and again, but it was useless, no one would hear her out here, no one came along here, and for good reason she thought as she let her body go lump, accepting her fate.

Raul and his two betas- one of his brothers Peter and his friend Connor were nearly finished with their evening perimeter run of their lands when they heard it. The unmistakable rumble of growling in the distance. None of the three men recognised the tone, meaning it wasn't one (or several) of their own, which only left one other possibility-rogues.

They listened for a minute before they heard the sound of a woman shouting, begging for help over and over again before just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The three wolves looked at one another before sprinting for the eastern boundary by Old Station Bridge. If there was a human,they were in trouble, there was no way a human could win against one rogue, let alone multiple.

Raul had dealt with his fair share of rogues in his short time as alpha, but nothing would prepare him for what they saw as they came to a stop by the bridge. A pack of 10 wolves were all circling a young brunette woman- from what Raul could see from the glimpses he was catching between the wall of wolves she around the same age as him and his brothers.

He made his way closer, careful not to bring attention to himself or his betas, he wanted the element of surprise.

He was just about to attack when the young woman looked up, as if she sensed help had come. What Raul wasn't expecting as the woman held his gaze was how it would make him feel. Initially Raul registered the terror and pain on the woman's face, the extreme helplessness, and then something hit him. It was the weirdest feeling- like warm tingling butterflies flooding Raul's entire body, his wolf- Knight- was restless, anxious really, begging to be let free, and then it happened, it clicked "Mate, mate, mate!" Knight shouted in Raul's head over and over again. There was a moment or two of elation where neither Raul or this unknown human girl moved before Raul was snapped back to reality by yet another growl from one of the rogues as they continued to circle and a small pitiful whimper from the girl.

There was no way he was going to let his mate get hurt he thought to himself as he lunged forward immediately knocking one of the wolves out of the way. Peter and Connor followed suit, just as easily dispensing another two wolves a good 10 metres from where they'd originally been. Though they got straight back up, poised to attack again.

Raul could see the girl clearly now that the circle had been broken and the sight pulled at his chest, though he wouldn't like to admit it.

The woman had a large gash on her temple which was trickling blood down the side of her head, dropping in a small pool on the ground, along with several puncture marks on her abdomen, which judging by the blood that had saturated her white shirt were deep, not to mention what looked like a very broken right wrist and scrapes covering just about every visible part of her body.

He could feel the anger rising him at what these low lives had done to the girl- his mate! His! Noone else's! And before he could think he was shifting ripping a pair of pants out of the nearest tree (thank the Lord the whole perimeter of their lands had stashes of clothes) and was running over to her.

A deep gutteral growl left his lips, stopping everyone in their tracks.

Even Peter and Connor stopped, they all knew what that growl meant, it was the possessive growl of a mated wolf warning everyone and everything in it's way to stay away- or else.

The girl flinched as Raul continued to growl as the rogues slowly backed up,clearing a path for him to get to her.

"Don't touch me," she begged, eyes wide with fear as she tried to shuffle backwards away from Raul as he bent down in front of her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Raul spoke gruffly. "I'm trying to help you stop fighting me!" he grumbled, swinging her up into his arms effortlessly as she tried to push against him.

The way she sobbed as he moved her pulled at his heartstrings he had to admit, but right now he had a mission, get her to Shawn his other identical brother and one of the pack doctors before she past out or bled out.

"Let me go." she smacked his chest weakly,making absolutely no impact. Infact Raul barely felt it.

"Stop fighting me!" Raul snapped, feeling frustrated as he ran as fast as his legs would take him in the direction of home.

"I don't even know you! I want to go home!" the girl continued to struggle despite her injuries.

Peter who had been running behind Raul with Connor (both of whom must have shifted without Raul even realising) spoke up.

"Raul, look at her, she's terrified and in pain." Raul could tell without even looking at him that he felt bad for her, he was always such a softie, whereas Raul would rather be tactless and keep his mate alive than worry about being a gentleman.

Raul halted causing Peter to crash into him mid-step.

"Look Peter, I can either do as she asks, or I can save her life, which do you think I'm gonna choose?" he asked pointedly, glaring at his younger brother. He should know what was at stake here, afterall he'd found his mate Betty 6 months before and was absolutely besotted.

"I'm not saying you're not doing the right thing." Peter tried to backpedal. "Just maybe be a little nicer, a little more understanding, think about how you'd feel if you were in her position. She's human. Attacked by rogues and then some strange guy who also happens to be a wolf comes and picks you up and snaps at you when you try to defend yourself as you would."

"I'm trying to help her," Raul snapped again, glaring still.

"I know you are," Peter smiled sympathetically, "all I'm saying is maybe watch your tone."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, looking down at the crying girl in his arms. "My name's Raul, I know you're scared but if you don't let me help you won't be alive to go home," he explained impatiently, still walking.

"But you're a wolf. Why would you help me?" The confusion in her voice genuinely surprised him.

"Not all of us are big bad wolves," he answered, not disclosing the real reason. She was quiet for a minute except for the occasional hiss from pain.

"You are." she looked up at him waiting for a response, but Raul was so shocked that all he could do was laugh.

"You might be right you know."

...

By the time they made it to the pack house the girl, his mate had become lethargic and non- talkative. Raul wouldn't let it show, but he was really starting to panic. When he'd thought so many times before about the possibility of meeting his mate, this was so not what he'd imagined. But here he was carrying a half- limp woman with potentially life-threatening injuries through his house with everyone they came across giving him the same look of shock and confusion.

Peter and Connor had disappeared to put a search party together to deal with the rogues in question. Raul had really been quite forgiving of them over the two years he'd been in charge, but this, this was too far, this he would not forgive, he'd hunt them for the rest of his days if that's what it took to get revenge.

He would never forgive them for what they'd done to his mate. Never.

He made his way up the stairs that led to the pack hospital quicky- it had been decided when he became alpha that a whole floor of the pack house (it was a mansion really if you took the size into account) would be turned into something of a hospital. Not only was it more convenient for everyone in the pack house- rather than going to a GP or hospital they could simply walk upstairs and be seen by a doctor nearly straight away, but it was practical for all the times when werewolves would come home injured from fights or assignments and need immediate medical care. As this woman did now. When Raul reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner to the door of the hospital he was met with a wall of people and even more curious eyes. Everyone seemed shocked to see their alpha- usually so tough and strong carrying a semi conscious woman as though she might break at any moment.

"Out of the way, fucking move!" he yelled, causing her to whimper as the sound sent shock waves through her skull. Everyone scurried, heads down not game to look their alpha in the eye. They knew just from his stance, let alone his tone that he wasn't kidding around.

"Shawn get your arse in here!" he called as he pushed his way through another door and into the consultation area.

He made his way over to a bed, putting her down as gently as he could, but she still gave a whine of discomfort.

Whether in a half-delirious state or simply trying to distance herself from him, she made a move to try and get off the bed almost immediately but he stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Stay," he spoke, a little too harshly, instantly regretting it when he saw her bottom lip quiver slightly. "Sorry," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Who's this?" Shawn asked walking through the door a moment later, he looked between Raul and the young woman on the bed. Up close Raul could see just how pretty she was, chocolate brown eyes and a few freckles here and there. She was perfect he thought.

"Took you long enough," Raul grouched "She's my mate," he spoke quickly, watching as both Shawn and the woman's eyes went wide. Shawn was the first to recover, nodding and waiting for his brother to go on as though he hadn't just mentioned something totally life changing.

"She was attacked by rogues. I'm going to fucking kill them!" he fumed pacing the area.

...

As soon as Violet heard the word 'mate' she began to freak out, her breathing became laboured. She couldn't help but claw at her throat in a desperate attempt to get air. She couldn't have this jerk as a mate, she couldn't leave her home to live with a pack of wolves, she wouldn't.

Shawn rushed over grabbing an oxygen mask and gently placing it on her face.

"That's it, nice slow breathes, you're okay," he encouraged as Raul looked on helplessly.

"Raul, get outside, cool off, you're terrifying her. Look at her," he spoke not bothering to look at his brother, still trying to coax Violet into a semi-normal breathing pattern.

Ordinarily, Raul would have kicked Shawn's arse from here to Mars for talking to him like that, but when he turned to face his mate and saw the tears of fright rolling down her face, the way she clung to his brother's hand, he was brought back to the present. Of course he could be hot-headed and he had a reputation to uphold, but that didn't mean he wanted his mate to be scared of him. Hell that was the last thing he wanted.

"Sorry," he muttered, pushing past Shawn and walking out the door.

They heard a crash of what sounded like a vase, causing Violet to jump again.

"Sorry about him," Shawn apologised. "I promise, he's really not that bad, he's a big softie really, he just gets protective of his loved ones and doesn't necessarily deal with the emotion the best way. I'm Shawn by the way," he smiled.

"V-violet," She looked at him still unsure.

"Can I have a look at your injuries?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," she answered.

He smiled before carefully assessing the surface injuries. Violet was relieved to hear that the bite wounds although nasty weren't life-threatening and would heal 'just fine' although he did get Violet to hold a piece of gauze over the area while he went about setting her up with different what felt like a 100 different leads so he could track her vitals.

"I'm just going to get you hooked up to a few monitors okay. They won't hurt, they're just so I can keep track of your heart rate and oxygen levels, things like that okay?"

She nodded, and Shawn went about making sure the slightly insane amount of leads were properly attached, before coming back over to the bed and pulling a penlight from his breast pocket.

"Looks like you gave yourself a nasty whack here," he commented, trying to be a bit more casual about it to put her at ease.

"Follow my finger," he asked as he turned the light on and shone it towards Violet, immediately making her want to recoil. "Do you remember what day it is?" he asked with a small frown, as he pocketed the light once again.

"Saturday?" she answered feeling very unsure.

"Yeah it is," Shawn smiled sympathetically at her obvious confusion and fear.

Things were quiet for a while except for the rhythmic beeping of the machines attached to Violet which were starting to lull her into sleep

"Knock, knock?" someone tapped at the door gently startling Violet, before a man who looked almost exactly the same as Shawn, except with shorter hair poked his head into the room." Hey, I just came to see how you were? The others just left to track the wolves that attacked you and Raul's downstairs sulking," he smiled as he stepped into the room, dodging Shawn who was now busy getting supplies out to deal with the nasty and numerous wounds covering Violet's body. "I'm Peter," he held out a hand.

She smiled,holding out her left non- injured hand, "Violet."

Shawn walked back over to the bed carrying a load of medical supplies which he placed on the bed beside Violet, it made her feel a bit sick thinking about it, there were bottles of disinfectant, scissors,wipes, packets of what looked like needles and tubing, sheets of protective paper and gloves.

"Try not to focus on what I'm doing, why don't you talk to Peter while I work?" he suggested, kicking a rolling stool in Peter's direction which he sat on before following suit on his own one. "I need to start an I.V. with some antibiotics okay?" he added, before picking up a packet from the bed and ripping it open.

Violet stiffened as what Shawn had said sunk in, an I.V. meant, a needle and Violet was no good with needles, the last time she had to have one she fainted in the reception area of her doctor's.

"It's okay," Shawn tried to calm her, but he could tell that she was only becoming more and more uptight.

"Hold Peter's hand if you want," Shawn suggested seeing the tears pooling in her eyes.

She took Peter's hand immediately in her good one and Shawn went about positioning her arm for the I.V., wiping her arm before lining the needle up and looking up at her. "Sharp scratch," he warned before inserting the needle quickly, but carefully.

She jumped slightly, and gave a small whimper, but overall, she thought, it wasn't too bad.

"There all done," Shawn smiled, getting up to discard the waste into a special bin. "How's your pain? I'm going to give you a local anesthetic when I clean your abdomen and head up, but I can give you a dose of pain relief if you need it," he offered.

"Please," she nodded, a few tears falling down her face.

Shawn nodded again going to get the pain relief when there was another knock on the door, this one was harder than when Peter had knocked to come in. The door opened and Raul came in, not waiting to be invited. Violet noticed straight away how much calmer he looked.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Shawn walked back into the room, stopping when he saw Rau in the doorway.

"You can come in if you're calm enough," Shawn invited him, promoting Raul to step fully into the room and close the door behind him.

"Raul, this is Violet."

Raul smiled a really genuine smile and Violet couldn't help but notice, now that he wasn't being a totally arse, just how handsome he was, how handsome all three of them were- Raul, Shawn and Peter. They were all well built, and extremely tall- towering over Violet's 5'2" frame, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Raul was by far the most well built and intimidating with a sleeve of tattoos covering his arm and right hand as few scattered on his neck. Up close Violet could see the lip and ear piercings that only added to the tough almost gothic look. The smile on his face a stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.

...

Raul made his way over to the bed slowly, carefully, the last thing he wanted to do was scare Violet anymore than he already had. He wanted to show her the softer side of him, the side that would do anything for his mate, the side that was fiercely protective and loyal. Not the arsehole he showed her when they first met.

Peter stood up and smiled before leaving the room, the rolling stool now vacant. Raul took the opportunity to sit down, still looking at this young woman in awe.

"I'm sorry I was an arse to you," he apologised, looking down at his hands.

Violet didn't say anything, but when Raul looked up, she nodded softly signalling she'd heard him.

"Violet I'm going to start stitching your head up now okay?" Shawn interrupted their little moment.

Raul could see the panic on Violet's face as Shawn spoke and wanted so badly to comfort her, but he wasn't sure how. He felt so much pity and protectiveness at his tiny mate laying helplessly on the bed as Shawn tended to her injuries.

...

"Can I, can I hold your hand?" The softness and tentiveness of the question was so unlike Raul that both Violet and Shawn stopped, stunned momentarily. As much as Violet wanted to say no, just to prove a point that you don't get to be a complete jerk and then backflip and suddenly everything was okay again, she had to admit that an odd sense of calm had washed over her since Raul had entered the room.

She nodded again and he immediately took her hand carefully, sending shockwaves of tingles up both of their bodies. She looked at him panicked, but he just smiled reassuringly, before speaking, "It's the mate connection," he murmured, squeezing her hand gently. It felt odd to be holding someone's hand that she'd barely met and that had been so cold to her previously and yet, it felt so right.

Her thought train was interrupted by a sharp prick and then an intense stinging started on she forehead, before Shawn was pulling up her top revealing the wounds that she'd been holding pressure on. "Deep breath," Shawn warned this time before yet another prick and more stinging, the process was repeating a further two times before he discarded the needle.

"Oww, it's stinging," she whimpered.

"Shawn why'd you have to hurt her!" Raul half growled, though it was nothing on what he'd been like earlier.

"I'm not trying to, I promise, unfortunately it can be a side effect of the anesthetic. It shouldn't last long."

After she was stitched up,and her broken wrist x-rayed and plastered the two men left her to have a moment alone while they spoke outside.

"How bad?" Raul asked folding his arms.

Shawn sighed, "She's badly banged up. She'll need to be on I.V.for at least 24 hours."

"I want her in my room," Raul demanded immediately.

"Did you hear what I said?" Shawn asked.

"Did you hear what I said?" He counted harshly.

"Fine," Shawn sighed. "'I'll set her up in your room. If she agrees."

Raul nodded, a smirk on his face. They both knew he'd won the battle and there was nothing Shawn could do about it.

By the way, what were you thinking, just picking her up and bringing her here before actually talking to her?" he shook his head. "She was terrified." Raul who could hear the disapproval in Shawn's voice didn't take lightly to being spoken to by one of his pack, let alone his own brother.

"One don't talk to me like that, ever again,I might be your brother, but I'm also your Alpha and two I'm sorry, but if I hadn't have done what I did, she would be dead. Maybe that makes me harsh or whatever but I'd rather save my mate and the future luna of our pack than worry about pleasentries."

Shawn wanted to say more, but knew better than to push Raul so he simply said "I'll talk to her about staying with you, stay here." Before he left,not waiting for his reply.

...

As Shawn had expected as soon as he mentioned the idea of being in Raul's room, she shot him down pointing out that while he'd been nice to her in the last 30 minutes or so, he'd been a total jerk previously and she didn't want to be stuck with thst.

"I know he wasn't the nicest to you," Shawn agreed, "But I promise he means well, he was stressed and frustrated. He's your mate, it's his job to love and protect you and trust me he will do anything to honour that, even if it means being a bit harsh sometimes. Plus being around him will help you heal quicker, it's something that your body will recognise subconsciously, even for you as a human. It's one of our weird werewolf things. Please," he put his hands together practically begging.

"Fine," she conceeded, but if he's even the slightest bit rude I'm outta there,"

"Deal."

Half an hour later and Violet was situated in the most comfortable bed she'd ever laid in, the smell of Raul (a mixture of Sandalwood and Musk) filling her senses. She had to admit it calmed her, despite her wariness towards him.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked leaning against the doorway arms folding a smile once again gracing his face, making him look so much less scary. She jumped slightly holding a hand to her chest.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he apologised and something in the way he said it told her he wasn't just apologising for now.

"S'okay," she yawned, "but you have zero tact you know," she laughed as he frowned.

"I'm Raul Mendes, alpha of the largest pack in Canada,I can be mean, I can be ruthless,I also protect the ones I love with everything I have. But who said anything about tact? Cause it definitely wasn't me," he laughed, coming over to sit on the bed next to her, careful not to invade her space. As Violet drifted into a dream-state she could have sworn she heard him say "Sleep well, little mate," but of course when she questioned him on it the next day Raul would deny it till he was blue, well red in the face- with embarrassment that is. Maybe he wasn't such a big bad wolf afterall Violet thought.

[hale-13]

Triple Axel

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 1 - Freezing

There’s nothing Peter loves more about winter than spending the entire season ice skating. The fact that Mr. Stark��s lake freezes over so well just gives him the perfect excuse to hang out with his mentor, pseudo-sister and still get to skate for free.

Words: 2738, Chapters 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Morgan Stark, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Peter grew up a pretty graceless kid.

He never looked where he was going, always too excited, and tripped over air. His knees and palms were perpetually covered in cuts and scrapes in various stages of healing and he broke his glasses so often May and Ben had taken to just taping them together at the bridge of the nose instead of replacing them. Going to the community playground was an activity that was fraught with danger due to Peter’s over enthusiasm; well that and his two left feet and lack of hand-eye coordination. It was lucky that he picked up the, much safer, past time of building legos and other models with Ned at a young age.

Peter looked back on those sepia childhood memories with nostalgia and fondness now but he can remember the frustration of just wanting to do what the other kids did. He hated that he stood out because of his ridiculous coke-bottle glasses, the severe asthma attacks that kept him from participating in gym and recess. He just wanted to have fun.

And, unbelievable to anyone who knew him, the one thing that Peter Parker was inexplicably good at as a kid was ice skating.

The first time Peter was allowed to skate was when he was eight at Betty Brant’s birthday – coincidentally the first party he was invited to. May and Ben had both be overly hesitant – accident prone kids didn’t often mix well with anything slippery and sharp pointy objects – but Peter was able to wear them down eventually.

The prediction that Peter would fall flat on his face the second his skates touched the ice proved to be accurate but Peter was nothing if not stubborn so he pulled himself up and used the wall to make a shaky first lap. The longer he spent moving, the better he got and, by the end of the two hour party, he was able to make a complete circuit all by himself. His love for skating and finally, finally, being able to do something active grew from there. May and Ben were never able to afford lessons for him but they managed to scrap together enough money for season passes for him every year at the local rink.

Skating reminded him so much of the toddler ballet classes his mom had signed him up for before he had been diagnosed with asthma but so much more fun. He spent just about every weekend he could on the ice for a few hours practicing; he was never really able to do any jumps or anything too fancy but it was still so much fun. It wasn’t until after the spider bite and his life changing forever that he got really good.

It sure sucked that he couldn’t thermoregulate well anymore.

“Petey!” Morgan screamed, delighted, from where she was carefully skating closer to the edge of the frozen over lake under the watchful eye of her father. “Do another flip!”

Peter smiled indulgently and performed a perfect double axel, landing gracefully and gliding over to where Morgan was clapping next to dock. She had good balance for a five year old but the thin blades of her tiny skates still wobbled precariously on the ice due to her enthusiastic cheering.

“Not bad kid,” Tony told him from where he was seated in a camp chair on the dock and covered with blankets, a thermos of warm tea in the cup holder. He had flat out refused to test his luck with skating but, then again, his center of gravity was still off from his upgraded prosthesis.

“Thanks Mr. Stark!” Peter smiled, coming to a stop next to the other two and spraying his mentor with ice. Tony protested wordlessly but his smile let Peter know he wasn’t too serious. Peter absently rubbed his hands against his biceps to bring some warmth back into his skin – part of not thermoregulating well meant minimal to no shivering in the cold so he had to rely on friction – he was clearly not sneaky enough though because he could see the moment Tony clocked the movement and narrowed his eyes.

“Alright Johnny Weir time to go in before you freeze into a spider-sicle,” the man said as he drained the last of his tea and started packing up all of the stuff they had carted down to the frozen lake – more than they really needed in Peter’s opinion. “I promised your aunt I wouldn’t let you get hypothermia this week.”

“Aw daddy,” Morgan whined, skating unsteadily over to collide with Peter’s knees and shins and nearly knocking him off balance and onto his butt. “Five more minutes? Please?”

Morgan was attempting her very best puppy dog expression and Peter joined in when she shoved her pointy little elbow into his thigh. Tony had gotten soft in his old age and Peter could see his resolve crumbling under their combined gaze before he finally cracked with a sigh.

“Fine,” he conceded. “Five more minutes. I’m going to go brew up some hot chocolate. Can I trust you two by yourselves?”

“Yay!” Morgan screamed making Peter clutch his ears as she shakily skated off, getting just a little bolder and heading more toward the middle of the ice where Peter had been doing jumps and flips earlier. “Come on Petey!”

“I’ve got her Mr. Stark,” Peter promised before taking off after the little girl he was beginning to see as a sister, doing a perfect back flip and landing easily on the thin blades of his skates to her delight. At Morgan’s request, Peter continued to skate around her in wide circles, doing more and more elaborate jumps and laughing with her when he fell or stumbled.

“Do the hard one again!” Morgan called out from her spot about fifteen feet away from Peter, standing pretty steady for her lack of practice and Peter smiled indulgently.

“Last time and then we should probably head in before your dad comes after us,” he agreed, skating back into a wide arc before picking up speed and calculating his jump. He planned to land a few feet from Morgan because he knew it would really excite her. Things went pretty great in the beginning, his speed and takeoff were both perfect and his execution, while a little off, was passable enough for his sister.

His landing, however, needed work.

Unlike the ice rink ice he was used to, the frozen lake was pitted and rough. Peter had a little difficultly adjusting when he started but was able to compensate quickly as the afternoon wore on. Unfortunately, he was just a little too late this time to notice the divot and he hit it with his toe pick sending him sprawling onto his front about six feet from Morgan.

“Ouchies,” he muttered as he gave Morgan a thumbs up to show he was okay and started to leaver himself up.

Until he heard the cracking.

He froze immediately and looked down in horror to see the ice below him cracking and shattering. A small part of him wanted to slam his body down flat to better distribute his weight but his logical brain knew it was far too late for that all he needed to do was make sure that…

Morgan!

“I’ll help you Petey!” He heard her yell seconds before she crashed into his side and Peter, thinking fast, double clicked the panic button on his watch just as water started gushing through the cracks, pulling him under.

Morgan screamed and struggled as Peter did his best to keep as much of her as possible out of the water. His head was dunked briefly and his lungs seized from the cold. He felt the sharp blade of Morgan’s skate cut into his shoulder through his puffy jacket and he winced before clawing his way back above water with a gasp. He could hear Morgan still screaming and, gathering all the strength he had left, Peter hurled her from the water and across the ice where she slid safely away from the cracks.

“G-get dad-d,” Peter gritted out through shattering teeth as he gripped the broken edges of the ice. He could vaguely hear Morgan shuffling off the ice and up toward the cabin but his main focus was staying above the water and keeping purchase on the continually shrinking edges of the ice. His legs were completely numb and the metal of his battered skates felt heavy in the water, pulling him down deeper.

“Hang on Peter!” He heard Tony’s panicked voice from the shore before the sound of repulsers drowned out everything else and Peter looked up and made eye contact with the Iron Man suit piloted by FRIDAY. The left hand reached down and plucked him out of the water and into its arms, flying back to land on the porch steps. Peter collapsed on the ground, completely unable to hold up his own weight and feeling completely numb. “Peter!”

Tony skidded to his knees next to Peter, Morgan in his arms before he swiftly set her down on the porch. “C-cold,” Peter gritted out through clenched and chattering teeth as he tried to force his frozen body to curl up with little success. Through blurry eyes he could tell that Morgan had ditched her skates somewhere and he felt a spike of worry – he didn’t want her to get frostbite.

“I know buddy,” Tony said, propping Peter up with his vibranium arm before picking him up in a bridal carry. “I’m going to get you warm.” Peter didn’t do anything to help beyond curling closer to Tony’s chest and the body heat it emitted. The man kicked open the cracked door to the mud room and air so warm it burned cascaded over him. “Morgan go grab some blankets from the closet for Peter okay? Really quick now.” Morgan, crying silent tears and pale and shivering in her damp winter gear, ran off down the hall toward the linen closet.

“Tony,” Peter whimpered when he was set on the floor but the man was quick to shush him.

“I know buddy,” he reassured, “I just need to get these wet clothes off okay? Just let me do all the work. FRI, have Banner and a quinjet here ASAP.” Peter spaced out as Tony whipped Peter’s frozen, wet hoodie over his head followed quickly by the t-shirt and thermals under it. “Eyes up Pete,” Tony ordered as he worked on getting Peter out of his soaked jeans and thermal pants to leave him shaking on the floor in his boxers. “Your only job right now is to stay awake, capiche?\

“Yes sir,” Peter said, willing his eyes to open and his teeth to stop chattering. Morgan slid back into the room trailing a pile of fleece blankets and the comforter off of Peter’s bed and Peter mustered up a smile for her so she wouldn’t be so scared.

“Great job Maguna,” Tony praised as he wrapped the thickest fleece around Peter’s shoulders, doing his best not to jostle him too much. “Now run up to Pete’s room and get him a pair of sweatpants and his black zip up jacket okay?” Morgan hiccuped on a sob but ran out of the room and back up the stairs. Once she was out of the room, Tony wrapped Peter in another blanket before helping him wiggle out of his icy boxers. “FRI update on Bruce?”

“Dr. Banner and Mr. Wilson are on their way, ETA seven minutes. He advises getting Peter out of his wet clothes and wrapped in warm blankets. He recommends not moving him too much.

“Thanks dear,” Mr. Starks said distractedly as he pulled Peter into his arms to provide extra warmth. “How we doing Pete?”

“Tired,” Peter answered, burrowing into Tony’s arms. “Cold.”

“I know kiddo, just hold on a second longer.”

“I got it!” Morgan said as she came back into the room brandishing Peter’s clothes.

“Good job honey,” Tony said as gently as possible as he took the clothes. “Uncle Bruce is on his way and we’re going to go visit the compound. Can you go change into your warmest PJs for me as quick as possible?” As soon as Morgan had left the room again, Tony made quick work of threading Peter’s unwilling and stiff limbs through his pants and jacket, tucking the comforter around them both to lock in the warmth.

“Tony?” Bruce called, voice urgent, from the direction of the front door.

“Mud room!” Tony called back, not moving from his position curled around Peter’s limp body. Footsteps thundered in their direction and Bruce and Sam skidded around the corner a second later both wearing their warmest loungewear and Peter felt a little guilty about pulling them away from a day of relaxation.

“Jesus,” Sam mumbled as he dropped to his knees next to the pair reaching into the blanket nest to press burning fingers to Peter’s carotid to take his pulse.

“How long was he in the water?” Bruce asked, carefully moving Peter’s hair back out of his eyes to look at his pale face. His eyes darted over to the gash on his shoulder from Morgan’s skates that was beginning to bleed sluggishly now that Peter was out of the water and warming up but ignored it for now.

“Only a couple minutes,” Tony told him, an edge to his voice, “but he had been outside for a few hours. We were about to come in for hot chocolate.” The man sounded bereft and Peter cuddled closer into his chest trying to offer some comfort.

“Okay,” Bruce said, calm. “Peter you’re going to let Tony carry you out to the jet. I don’t want you moving more than you absolutely have to so just let him do all the work. Once we get you on board I’m going to start warming you up.” His tone brokered no argument and Tony disentangled himself from the cocoon and picked Peter up. Sam left the room but Peter could hear him talking to Morgan in the kitchen, calming her down and ushering her toward the jet.

Things went a little fuzzy for Peter from there. He was vaguely aware of the quinjet taking off and Bruce and Sam starting warm IV fluid. Warmed oxygen forcing its way down his throat. But he was just so tired. He knows he promised but surely Mr. Stark wouldn’t be too upset if he just took a little nap right? He let his eyes dip closed one last time as he slipped away.

Peter can remember waking up on and off a few times. He remembers getting off the quinjet and being settled in a trauma room in the compound’s MedBay, the heated blankets that felt heavenly to his cold skin. He was out for a while after that he thinks and, when he next wakes up, he’s warmer and much more comfortable.

“Pete?” Peter lets his head fall to the side and he gives Tony a little grin. His mentor looks like shit and is sitting hunched over in an uncomfortable chair next to Peter’s bed. “Oh thank God,” he says, going to grab Peter’s hand and then aborting the motion, leaning forward to press their foreheads together instead. “If you ever scare me like that again you’re grounded until your thirty.”

Peter chuckles a little and shifts on the bed. His arms both have IV catheters in the forearm and he can see blood flowing through the lines. He follows it back to a larger machine set up next to his bed and mutters a hoarse little “what?” of confusion.

“You were too cold so Bruce started warming your blood,” Tony told him, hand reaching up to comb through Peter’s wild hair. “You’re okay now though,” he assured. “You’re on the mend. Bruce said you should be done with this in about an hour so you just need to relax right now okay Bambino?”

“Morgan?” Peter asked instead, dizzy and tired and barely clinging to consciousness.

Tony smiled down at him. “She’s just fine kiddo. You saved her you big damn hero.”

“Good,” Peter slurred, letting his eyes slip closed again. “May?”

“Happy went to get her,” Tony promised. “The roads aren’t too great but they should be here soon.”

“‘Kay,” Peter yawned.

“Take a nap buddy – you earned it,” and, warm and comfortable, Peter did.

[statticscribbles]

Use Me

Summary: Reggie/Plus Sized! Reader Request: Song-fic using the song “Use Me” by Alec Benjamin, Reader likes Archie, and he was flirting/ pretending to like her to get Veronica’s attention, and reader knows this but thinks she can handle it

Archie knew you had a crush on him. You’d tried to cut away the flirting you’d been slipping into the conversation after Reggie and pulled you aside and told you how he was trying to get with Ronnie; you were content to let him be happy and you know Reggie would be there for you regardless. You’d had a crush on Reggie before but after he’d had a fling with Ronnie and made it clear you were a friend you’d buried that under your budding feelings for Archie. You don’t think about what Archie’s sudden flirting means; with Ronnie uninterested in him you’d been pleasantly surprised when he’d flirted back.

This had been going back and forth, Reggie pulling you out of the idea you’d actually have a chance with Archie by bribing you with Pop’s and giving you the locker room and field talk that he and Archie would have about girls. You try to laugh it off; how Reggie is unmoving in his assurance that Archie is using you. “It’s fine Reg; I have it under control; at least this way he’s paying attention to me.” Reggie makes an upset noise in his throat before grumbling as he jerks the shared basket of cheese fries over.

“Reg; seriously. It’s fine; I like Archie, I know he doesn’t like me back. Hey! I was going to eat that one.” He grins pulling the cheese fry closer tongue about to lick it before you swipe it form his hand, grinning as you chew. “Aww sorry Reggie, better luck next time.” You beam as he glares rolling his eyes. “You owe me next weeks Pop’s then.” “Oh like you’d let me pay, I had to sneak the bill last week and then I just happened to find a twenty in my wallet the day after?” “Weird right.” He laughs and you turn eyes glued to Archie as he walks in with Jughead and Betty. “Go on then.” Reggie nods and you grin arm wrapping his neck to hug him. “Thanks Reg.” You grin widens when Archie beams pulling you into a hug. You miss Jughead and Reggie making eye contact and grimacing.

“Hey Y/N; I was wondering if you wanted to go out for the night next Tuesday.” “Out where?” You grin leaning forward on the table. You brush of the sound of something slamming on one of the tables and the door practically revolving with how it’s shoved closed. “Where ever you want; but might I suggest Pop’s?” He grins and you nod enthusiastically. You spend the rest of the night listening to Jughead and Betty conspire against Hiram and Archie’s annoyance grow steadily; you don’t like the idea’s Jughead and Betty are implying, the idea that Hiram is behind most of the horrible things that have been happening but you hate how agitated Archie is growing. You nervously follow him when he leaves.

“Archie you okay?” “Yeah fine.” “You seem annoyed.” “I am.” “You want to talk about it?” “Jughead and Betty are being ridiculous! It’s crazy how they think those things about Ronnie and her dad!” “Archie; it’s just her dad; they’re not talking about Ronnie at all.” “They are! Talking shit about her dad is talking shit about her; I’m not going to have them saying that.” “Yeah I understand. I’m sorry they’re being that way.”You sigh when Archie grins relieved. “I knew I could count on you Y/N you’re the best.” You manage to keep your cool when he kisses your cheek leaving to return home.

“Need a ride home?” You turn confused hat Reggie’s car is still parked. “You’re still here? I thought you left hours ago?” “Nah; well I left Pop’s thought about getting some studying done but you know how against Kevin’s plays my dad is.” You frown nodding as he leans over to open the door. “Who’re you trying out for?” “Depends who you’re trying out for; gotta be the leading man to the star.” He winks and you roll your eyes. “With both know Cheryl is gonna be the main star.” You grin as you slide into his car. “You okay?” Reggie nudges you when you stay quiet. “Yeah; Archie asked me on a date I think; well at least out on Tuesday; to Pop’s.” “Ronnie works Tuesday shifts.” “I guessed.” “You want me there, in case it goes south.” “No it’s okay; it won’t go south if I don’t let it.” You grin and he strains a smile back at you.

You look up for the fifth time as the door opens frowning at Reggie who nods, moving past you towards an empty booth you can hear him spreading out paper and whatever he’s using as a prop to study. Veronica swings by refilling the drink you’ve gotten; just as Archie swings through door grinning. “Hey Ronnie. Hey Y/N.” Archie spends the rest of the not date talking about what’s been going on with him the past two weeks. Not that you’re uninterested or caring that you were with him for half the classes; you’re happy to listen; the only thing that bothers you is how often you catch his eyes wandering to Veronica; how he trails off and restarts slightly behind or ahead of what he was saying after Veronica vanishes to and from the kitchen.

You’re confused when Reggie slides next to you grinning at Archie. “Hey Andrews.” “Hey Reggie; what’s up?” “Enjoying your date?” Reggie smirks and you try not to let your face fall when he shakes his head. “Not a date Reggie. Just friends; right Y/N?” You nod and Archie excuses himself when Veronica chimes to Pop how she’s taking a break. He leaves you sitting with Reggie. “You okay Y/N?”

“Yeah; fine. It’s okay, seriously Reggie.” “You’re okay with him using you? You know that’s what he’s doing?” “I know it’s-“ “So the fact he and Veronica are probably hooking up out back? The fact he’s been flirting with her since he got here? Or what about-“ “Leave it Reggie.” “No.” You look up glaring at him; you don’t care if you’re crying. “Leave it alone.” “Okay Y/N. Okay. I’ll leave it.” He nods arm wrapping around you to pull you into his side. “I’m here if you need. No pressure just-“ “Archie at least pretends he’s interested in me.” “Okay? Are other guys not interested in you?” “Not the one I want.” “So talk to him? As a guy I can say I’d much prefer to reject someone up front than awkwardly trying to guess if they’re interested in me.”

“So what; you just expect me to walk up to him and be like “I’ve been in love with you for almost a year; I don’t think he’d take to well to that.” “I’d much prefer it over the shit Veronica is pulling; its getting Archie to use you to see if she’s jealous.” “And you’d never do that?” “Well no I actually love you; I’m not going to play with your feelings like that ever, let alone if I had a chance of getting with you.” “Hypothetically.” You add and Reggie wrinkles his nose. “Not studying for the vocab test now Y/N still trying to figure out where Archie is so I can beat some sense into him; okay, maybe just yell loudly, and also with my fist.” He softens his threat as you glare. “I still care about Archie as a friend.” “I know you’re too good to do anything less.” You shrug letting Reggie slide out of the booth and decide it’s probably best for you to wait for him to come back.

You don’t talk about earlier at Pop’s or whatever Reggie said to Archie after he comes back and offers to drive you home. “Thanks Reg; I owe you one.” “Just buy me Pop’s; we’ll call it even.” “You’ll actually let me pay? Wow Archie must’ve really riled you up then.” “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” You nod grinning watching his smile falter. “I know; according to you earlier, what was it; you actually love me?” He shifts uncomfortably in front of you. “And what was your advice; that you should take by the way; it was something along the lines of just walking up and telling them I’m in love with them.” You smirk and he grins. “Well technically I’m standing, and you already know I’m in love with you.” “Because fighting with Archie proves that how?” “Well I fought for your honour; and I drove you home; plus how many dates have we been on to Pop’s?” “Thos weren’t dates.” You flush and he grins. “Well I paid didn’t I?” “You wouldn’t let me!!” You shout and he grins. “Better luck next time Y/N?”

Support My Writing?

[thelonewriters-fic-central]

Bombshell

Chapter 2 

Your POV

It was been a week since Jason left. Cheryl was broken due to missing her other half. I was there to comfort her through thick and thin. That was until last night when we found out that he was shot between the eye brows. I was torn, my best friend was actually dead. I came to school the next day to hear whispering around the hallways. School was normal minus the topic of Jason's shooting. It was finally lunch hour. I was going to sit with Cheryl but she was in one of her moods. So I decided to sit with Betty, Archie , Jughead and some new girl. 

"Hi can I sit?" I asked hopefully. 

"Of course Y/N. How are you holding up." Betty says.

"Alright I guess. And who might you be." I say gesturing to the raven haired girl.

"Veronica Lodge. I have heard a lot about you." She sticks out her hand for a hand shake. I shake her hand and sit down. I sat next to Betty.

"So where have you been recently?" Jughead asks trying to break the ice.

"Comforting Cheryl and mostly reading" I said.

"Your nothing like Cheryl. How did you become friends with her?" Veronica said. I  just shrugged your shoulders.

"She is love with her." Jughead said mocking you.

"Juggie that's not nice. Don't say that especially to gold fish bae" Betty says at winking at you.

"Wait did I miss something" Veronica says.

"Yeah you did." I say sarcastically.

"Y/N has been in love with Cheryl since middle school." Betty says.

"The gold fish bae part. I have never heard you call her that before." Archie says.

"I was her first kiss" You say and they gasp and Betty just blushes.

"We were in kindergarten and Archie took all of my gold fish and Y/N came to me the next day and gave me a bag of gold fish and we shared it." Betty says. 

"In that same day we got fake married as all children tend to do and we kissed. Its no big deal." I say.

"Holy Betty I wasn't you first girl kiss." Veronica said.

"WHAT YOU KISSED HER" You yelled.

"Yeah it was during cheerleading tryouts" Betty said nervously.

"Damn Cooper what has gotten into you." You said. The lunch bell rang and everyone dispersed. You went to your next class saying goodbye to your friends. At the end of the day Cheryl and you decided to go to Pops. We got our usual, strawberry milkshake with two straws. Both of us sat in comfortable silence until Cheryl decides to say something.

"Y/N. What did JJ say to you before he left. That he needed it to be private. I was pestering him the whole way to sweet water river and he refused to tell me." She said to you.

"Well I was going to wait for the right time to tell you. But I realized there would never be the right time. I am in love with you Cheryl. In a more than friendly way." I said. Cheryl just stared at me  for a few seconds before I spoke up.

"I know you don't feel the same way. I just needed to get it off my chest." I say putting my hand on hers.

"I am so sorry Y/N I don't feel the same way but can we still be friends. I can't lose you and JJ." Cheryl says to you with hopeful eyes.

"Of course. But I need to go. I will talk to you tomorrow." You say as you exit Pops and you didn't know who to text for advice so you texted Veronica.

Who invited you over to the Pembroke so you can chat. You ended up telling her everything, and how it went down at Pops. She ended up telling you her feelings for Betty and how Betty got together with Jughead. You didn't realize how close you two were sitting next two each other. You both started leaning in and clothes started coming off.

The next morning.

Veronica was cuddling with you. 

" So what are we" Veronica said to you.

"Friends with benefits I guess" You say.

"I guess we keep doing this until we get over our feelings for Betty and Cheryl" She says.

"To getting getting over our feelings" You say as she shook your hand in agreement.

Chapter 1

[satuguro]

don’t say that you love me | pt. 2

IN WHICH: harry osborn is too persuasive for his own good, and y/n needs a getaway.

INSPO: how to be yours — chris renzema, the night we met — lord huron, my recent break up :))

NOTES: i didn’t expect this much love on my last fic. thank you all so much, and i hope this new year and decade brings you all joy <3 i also love the idea of having timothee chalamet as harry osborn, so that’s who i’m “casting” as harry in my fic lmao

LINKS: part one, part two

For days, you found yourself sluggishly walking to your classes, barely able to take your mind off of anything but Peter Parker, much to your discontent.

When they say that you can never stop thinking about people you care about, they weren’t kidding. Before, you scoffed every time Betty stressfully texted you about how everything reminded her of her ex, advising her to, “If he’s not thinking about you, don’t think of him.”

Now you understood. You wanted him to think of you, to look at the hoodie you made Ned give back to him, and have his heart hurt as much as you did. But looking at him longingly from across the classroom, watching as he laughed with Mj Watson— you doubted his heart hurt. He was happy; happier without you by his side.

“Hey. You wanna add the acid?” Your partner, Harry Osborn, nudged your shoulder gently as he spoke.

Blinking to get yourself out of your trance, you nodded solemnly as you took the dropper with the acid, dropping a few drops into the boiling beaker without so much as a sigh. You were glum, that much was obvious, but Harry couldn’t help but snort to himself at your sigh.

“Wow, I’m not that bad, you know.”

“What?” As if in a spell, you looked at him with confusion. It took a few seconds for his words to fully process in your head. “Oh. No, not you, Osborn.” You shook your head, placing your head in your hands as you tried to make yourself snap out of it. He didn’t have the right to be in your head so much.

“I thought we were on a first name basis!” Harry gasped, feigning shock as you hit him lightly on the shoulder with a roll of your eyes. Chuckling to himself, Harry stated, “I’m kidding, Y/N. I know that Parker’s the reason why you’re all down.” Harry, with his nonchalant tone and cheeky smile, made you scoff as you looked back at your lab book as if you were paying attention. You were, of course.

“The chemicals are burning, Harry.”

“What? Oh, shit.” Hastily, Harry grabbed the tongs, picking up the smoking beaker and setting it aside. Your chemistry teacher was eyeing you both as Harry offered an innocent smile that you couldn’t help but chuckle at. It was nice to laugh for once.

•

“Do you want him as a rebound?”

The sudden question caught you off guard, pulling your attention away from the chemistry notes that were sprawled out in front of you. To the right of you, a boy shushed you and Betty harshly.

A frown tugged at the sides of your lips as you tilting your head to the side. “Who as a rebound? I’m too tired for this,” you sighed.

“Yes, a rebound! Are you gonna have Harry Osborn as a rebound guy or not?” Betty questioned, excitement evident as she pulled the chair out from in front of you with a screech and sat down. She plopped her things to the side loudly, rolling her eyes as the same boy shushed her.

With one turn of her head, Betty shushed him back before focusing back towards the task at hand: you.

“What— No! Why would I? I mean, should I?” Your brows furrowed. Betty knew more about relationships than you ever could know— was having a rebound guy normal?

“Why not?” The smile she had on her face was ecstatic, enthusiastic, even. “Word in the halls say that he likes you a lot,” she explained, her grin growing as a gleam of mischief caught in her eye. Of course she’d know about his liking to you before you did; Betty was a sucker for gossip. You knew there was no saying no— when Betty had a plan, she was going to execute it in the best way possible.

“I still don’t know why Peter broke up with me, Bets,” you reminded, running a hand down your face as if you were wiping away all the thoughts in your head. “As much as I hate saying it out loud, I’m not over him. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“Exactly why you should go out with Harry!” Clapping her hands uncharacteristically in excitement, Betty stood up, gathering her things quickly. “My dad should be here about now. But think about it, Y/N!” She waved you goodbye as she left you, alone and even more confused as before, staring at the notes you had made.

You wanted to ask Peter what the reason was for breaking up with you. But how could you do it if you haven’t spoken to him since the ball?

You stayed in the library until the moon hung high over the city and the city lights flashed into the library’s large windows. Your head was in your hands as you read the same paragraph again for what seemed to be the 84th time. You were tired, trying to keep yourself awake for just a little longer.

You left when the janitor yelled at you to.

Trudging down the illuminated streets, your face blank as you tried to remember all the terms you had written down, you barely even noticed the sound of thwips overhead. You were too out of it, too in your own head to even hear the soft sound of a bang and the tiny, “Ow,” that followed.

He had to say something snarky to get your attention.

“Too late for a walk, don’t you think?”

“Says the one who’s out here with me.” You glared towards the voice, your gaze softening when you saw the masked hero of New York— Spider-Man, standing on a light pole in all his red and blue glory. “Oh. You.” You turned away from him, not even acknowledging him for more than five seconds before acting as if he was just another annoying side character to your life.

“You’re nice,” the hero hummed, his tone playful as he swung to the next light pole ahead. His composure was calm and collective, but unknown to you, Peter Parker’s heart was beating too fast for his body as he followed you down the sidewalk. Of all the ways he could’ve tried to talk to you, this had to be the worst way to do it. “So,” he jumped onto the ground, landing perfectly on his feet alongside you, “am I going to have to ask why you’re walking outside at 3 am on a Wednesday?”

“School’s beating me with a bat. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Peter frowned from under the mask. Worry surged in his veins, much to his own guilt, and he found himself tapping you on the shoulder as he offered you his hand. “Do you, uh, want a ride?”

“A ride?” Your eyes widened, the deep purple bags that hung under them now gone as you looked at him with shock. Your lack of sleep was softening your reactions, making it as if you were speaking with a random boy rather than New York’s masked hero. “I mean—“

“It’s better and safer than walking alone on the street,” Peter added, the whites of his suit wide as he tried to persuade you. Whether it was the guilt in his stomach or his automatic concern for people’s safety, some part of him needed to know that you made it home safe. “Please; it’s the least I can do.”

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, your face uncertain but the aching in your body screaming otherwise. Hesitantly, you took his hand, holding it tightly as you moved closer to him. “Go ahead, Spidey.” The nickname was quick, a common one, but one that Peter found himself smiling at as he shot a web up into the sky.

His hands found its way around your waist, holding you flush against him as he brought the both of you up above the roads of New York. The yelp you let out was soon replaced by your laughter as you felt the wind whip your face, the addictive feeling of falling and being caught running through your body. You were more awake than you ever had been in months, your arms wrapped around Spider-Man’s neck as he laughed with you.

The world looked so pretty from the air.

It was over as soon as it began, his feet landing on your light-decorated balcony with a soft thump. He let you go gently, unwrapping his arms from you and allowing you to step back. Your hair was a mess, wild and tangled from the wind, but a grateful smile was etched on your face.

“Thank you— I needed that,” you murmured, shifting your things as you looked into the whites of the hero’s mask.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s no problem,” Peter stammered, heart beating hard as he looked at you. You were beautiful. But as the thought came, so did new waves of guilt and anger towards himself come. Frowning from under the mask, he shook his head to himself as he jumped up to the balcony railing. Offering a playful salute, he swung away, ignoring the aching in his heart.

That night, as you laid in your bed thinking of the kind hero, a thought came into your mind that made your heart stop.

You never told him where you had lived.

Peter felt guilty.

He had nearly crashed into multiple buildings on his way home. His mind, much to his discontent, couldn’t think of anything else other than you. What he had done to you was nothing like him— but that didn’t change the fact that he still did it.

He was so screwed.

You didn’t encounter Peter Parker until you attended a New Years' party at the Osborn’s house.

Naturally, you were invited. Harry had made it his very duty to pull you out of the deep hole Peter had left you in, even if you had little to no interest in attending any party in the first place. But Harry, with his dimpled smiles and cheeky persuasive comments, had no problem convincing you to go. He had claimed that he could’ve taken you to the ball drop to see it in person, but he didn’t want to deal with all the other people there.

You picked at the rim of your cliche red solo cup, hesitant as you stood on the sidelines of the party. You had lost Harry ages ago— the boy was like a hummingbird, flying from one person to another with his hair wild and energy practically radiating off of him. You didn’t mind it; it was his party, after all. You didn’t know how he could be so energetic with no alcohol in his veins; he had told you that he didn’t plan on drinking throughout the entirety of the party, for he saw everyone at his party as his responsibility.

The loud thumping of the bass was all that filled your mind as you sipped the punch you had poured. It tasted strongly of vodka, poignant on your tongue as you swallowed it down with a slight wince. You weren’t used to drinking, but the want to have a good time was strong in your mind as you tilted your head back. You forced the alcohol down, wanting to have a good memory ( if you could even remember the next day ) after the days of stress and sadness.

The rest was a blur. Harry had found you ( or maybe you found him— you didn’t know ) and had led you to the dance floor, jumping along with you to the beat of the music. He had tied his tie around your head like a bandanna, yelling something about “making sure boys know you’d beat them up.” You were laughing, joking around and yelling lyrics with him as both of you danced like idiots. Harry’s hand was holding yours, making sure you weren’t going to drown into the crowd as the both of you danced. You had lost track of the time and the refills of punch you had, your world spinning and the lights hitting your face as if you had fallen straight out of Euphoria.

Giggling to yourself, you dragged Harry out of the crowd and brought him to the punch bowl ( again ). You reached for the ladle like a child, only for it to be taken away by Harry.

“You’re drinking like my Aunt Jackie on Thanksgiving,” he stated, keeping the ladle away from you, watching your pouting face with amusement.

“I’m not Aunt Jackie,” you replied blatantly, practically leaning against him and the table for support as you tried to make yourself sound serious. At your woozy tone, Harry chuckled and shook his head, curls bouncing every which way.

“I know, Y/N.”

You shoved yourself dramatically against the table, the dancing of the others in front of you catching your eye and making you stare. Thoughts, most of them unintelligible, bounced around in your head. You were frowning now, moods swinging as you tried to focus on one thing at a time.

“I miss him,” you announced.

“I know you do.” Harry stood next to you, his hands on the table behind him as he looked at you. Your chest was heaving from the dancing, your cheeks red as you stared blankly at the dancing bodies. “Hey,” he nudged you gently, catching your attention. “You’ll get over him. I know you will.” Despite his voice being soft, it still stood out from the chaos around the two of you.

One side of your mouth twitched upwards. “You think so?”

Harry’s terrible attention span reached him before your words could. “New Year’s! It’s almost here!” He took your hand, weaving you through the people as he led the both of you to the living room.

There, the projector showed the New York ball drop in real-time. Thirty seconds flashed on the timer as Anderson Cooper spoke about something that none of you were interested in in the slightest.

Harry pulled you onto the oak wood table in the middle of the living room, holding you close to him so that your wobbly legs wouldn’t bring you off the edge. You flashed him a grin, placing your hands around his neck messily as you both looked at the projector.

“Here it is! Three!” Harry yelled, cheering with everyone else as people began to pair up.

“Two!” Your eyes, wandering and heavy, landed on an image that made you want to throw up. In the corner, hidden and away from the rest of the world.

Peter and Mj.

“One!” Mj’s arms were thrown over his neck, bringing him closer to her. Peter, with an adoring smile, closed his eyes as he leaned his face closer to hers.

You tore your eyes away from them, focusing on Harry’s smiling face as he waited for the ball to drop. Before he could yell out a “Happy New Year,” you took his face, leaning it down to yours. Only then did you pause, before he gave you a reassuring smile that made you land your lips onto his.

“Happy New Year!” You shut your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks as you deepened the kiss. It was desperate, an escape from the reality that stood across the room from you and Harry.

[marybethsjournal]

The Past was Hell

Summary: The story of Abigail joining the gang and subsequently bonding with John. This is a divergence of canon fic where she left an ab*sive family, most characters are in canon besides Jenny, who in this fic has been with the gang since she was very young and Grimshaw, who has 4 sons and is in a relationship with Dutch. Also took some liberties with Arthur and Eliza’s relationship.  Enjoy :) 

Warnings: mentions of abuse, rape, and incest (obviously not in a condoning way). Vague talk about being a prostitute under the age of 18, but none of that actually takes place in the confines of the story. Just like in canon, Abigail in underage at the start of her relationship with John. Lastly, in this fic, Abigail is religious so religion is vaguely mentioned several times throughout the story, so skip if that isn’t your jam. Overall a very heavy story so keep that in mind before reading.

Word Count: 6488

Here’s the fic on ao3 for your reading pleasure if you prefer consuming content on there. https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766132

Abigail opened her bedroom door quietly and staggered to the kitchen. She saw her brother, but not her mother or father. Good.

“Where is father?” she whispered. He could be in the house and who knows the wrath he would force upon her if he found out she was out of her room and worse, talking about him.

“Passed out in the parlor. I don’t know what mama gave him but he’s sure to be mad about it when he wakes up” Rick, her brother, told her.

“I’m going to make biscuits then. Haven’t eaten in three days. I hope he won’t wake up before I finish ‘em.” Abigail turned her back from him and started towards the drawer with the bowls in it, but Rick grabbed her arm and turned her around quickly.

“Abigail,” the gravely serious tone of his voice frightened her, “You need to get out.”

“Why?” she asked, laughing lightly. “I haven’t offended you, have I?”

“I’m being serious. It’s gotten worse and worse with father and you. He takes you multiple times a day now, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Besides, he beats you so badly you can hardly walk anymore. You can’t keep saying you’re waiting until your wounds heal. He’ll kill you before then. Now’s your chance. Leave.” 

Abigail knew Rick was right. She wouldn’t have another chance like this. She wondered if him and her mother had conspired together and she had purposefully put something in their father’s dinner. It would have been the most considerate thing she had done for Abigail for a while.

“Come with me then.” Abigail grabbed Rick’s hands.

 Rick shook his head.

“No I have to stay here and look after mama. I’m not a target like you are. Here, I’ll prepare a basket of food for you. You go get some stuff packed and then leave immediately.”

Suddenly the two teenagers heard the sound of a head hitting a wall and a gruff “Fuck!” come from the parlor. Abigail froze in terror. Their father was awake. 

“Go. Now!”  Rick practically shooed Abigail out the door and proceeded to throw her shoes out the door behind her. Great, these had heels on them. Between that and the great pain in her side from where her father had beat her earlier, she was not going to get far. She was determined to try, though. If her father caught her attempting to escape, there’d be Hell to pay. Besides, the thought of never being taken advantage of again was a big enough motivator of its own. So Abigail ran as fast as she could, the splintering feeling in her side disregarded, praying every step of the way. She was going to need it. 

It was dusk of the second day that Abigail had left her home that she had decided she needed food. She had walked into a little town and she swore that she was getting so hungry that she could smell the food that was inside the townsfolk’s houses. Abigail pulled a bobby pin out of her hair without thinking and walked towards one of the houses swiftly before stopping in her tracks. What was she doing? Was she really about to rob somebody’s home? Was she going to walk in and invade someone's privacy like that? Abigail’s father, when he wasn’t spending time being an abusive bastard sent straight from the fiery pits of Hell itself, was a very successful businessman and she never ever had to even think about robbing a house before. But I’m hungry, she thought, before putting the bobby pin into the lock and working to get the damn door to open.

Abigail realized she had enormously miscalculated her criminal abilities when she opened the door and was greeted by a man holding a shotgun to her face. Of course these people were still awake! It couldn’t have been past 7pm, not that Abigail had been completely sure of the time since she had left her home. She would have scolded herself for being so utterly foolish if she wasn’t focused on the immediate danger the man and his shotgun posed.

“Who the Hell are you?” The man yelled. Abigail flinched. She was more than used to being yelled at, but not by men that weren’t in her bloodline.

“I said” the man repeated “Who the Hell are you? Answer me now, girl!” he waved the gun in her face.

“I’m sorry sir, I’ll just leave. I really am sorry.” is all Abigail could make out before the man was dragging her in the house.

“Oh no you don’t. You don’t just break into my house and then get to leave Scott free.”

A woman who Abigail presumed must have been his wife walked into the room cautiously. It was clear she had been hiding and was listening to the heated exchange.

“Honey, she’s just a kid. Look at ‘er.” the woman reasoned with the man.

The man did not lower his gun.

 “Oh fantastic, a delinquent is trying to rob me, that’s SOOO much better!” 

The woman rolled her eyes. 

“Gerald, honey, show some compassion. Let me just talk to her.”

“Compassion,” Gerald emphasized, “runs in your family and look where it got ‘em. Your Gran Gran died from armed robbers just two weeks ago.”

“Why were you coming in here?” The lady addressed Abigail directly.

“Because,” Abigail sniffled, “I’m hungry and I don’t have any money. I don’t know where to get any food. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I swear”.

The woman noticed Abigail kept holding on to her side and upon further inspection, her face looked pretty bruised up, although the bruises seemed to be fading slightly.

“Are you hurt?”

Abigail nodded.

“Who hurt you, sweetheart?”

“My father.” Abigail was crying by this point and continued to issue apologizes for entering the home uninvited.

The lady looked at Gerald as if to say “I told you so” and started guiding Abigail up the stairs.

“Come. We have an extra bedroom. You look exhausted. I have some soup left from dinner, I’ll bring it up. I’m so sorry all this happened angel. We can talk about this in the morning. For now, rest. No one can hurt you here.” 

It had been several hours since then. The lady’s name had turned out to be Betty and she was true to her word and brought Abigail a bowl of potato soup and then another after she had finished the first bowl. Betty was one of the kindest souls Abigail had ever met, she felt safe with her. Gerald wasn’t all so bad either. He just had his guard up, rightfully so. Before Abigail had gone to bed, they had told her that she could stay with them as long as she liked. However, after about 3 hours of sleep, Abigail awoke and realized that if she stayed here, she’d have to tell them exactly what her father had done and worse, she’d have to say who he was. Despite all the horrible things he had put her through, she still had a sense of loyalty to him. She could never do that to him. His whole career, Hell, his whole life would be over. Besides, she couldn’t just leech off these people. Abigail decided around 4am that she had to leave. She tiptoed down the stairs and went through the kitchen, stuffing as many rolls as she could in her dress before sneaking out the back door. She didn’t know where she was heading, only that she couldn’t stay where she was.

It was pitch black outside and although Abigail’s eyes adjusted rather quickly, it was still hard to make out exactly where she was going. Before she had completely exited the town, Abigail’s feet crunched on something. She looked down to see it was a newspaper. The Western Times, it read in big letters. Abigail picked up the dirty newspaper and thought that maybe this could be her out. Her father read the local newspaper every day and she knew there were always people putting out ads in there for job listings. Maybe somebody needed a nanny or a housekeeper or someone to sew for them or- well she’d see later when the sun came up and she could see better. Yet again, Abigail found herself praying that things went her way.

As luck would have it, someone actually had put out an ad for a housekeeper! Some man named Mr. Greensboro. She hadn’t heard of him before but he apparently lived a short way away from the town she had passed earlier and if she was fortunate enough, she could get there before he hired someone else. Abigail was aware she looked ragged and dirty, something one wouldn’t like to see in a housekeeper, but perhaps the man would take pity on her. Abigail needed money and a place to live in order to survive. She really needed this job.

Things were going Abigail’s way yet again! She had met with the man and after about an hour and a half interview, he hired her. She was ecstatic. Mr. Greensboro was a kind man, although his selection process was kind of odd. He had asked her if she knew her bust size and if she was a virgin.His face contorted in an odd way when she regretfully told him that while she had never engaged in consensual sex, she had been taken against her will more times than she could count. He apologized to her for asking, saying he only asked just to know if she was married or would have an unexpected pregnancy while working for him. Seemed a bit of an odd way to ask, but she let it go. Beggars could not be choosers and she most assuredly was a beggar now.

Abigail had just shut the door to Mr. Greensboro’s sizable cottage when she heard some women calling to her from the side of the house.

“You there!” Abigail turned her head and saw a woman with a Nigerian accent calling to her. She was beautiful, with short black hair and soft brown eyes. “You came here for the job, didn’t you?”

Abigail glanced between the woman speaking and the two girls behind her. One had pale, freckled skin and strawberry-blonde hair and the other looked a little older than the other women and seemed more worn by life as well. She had skin weathered from the sun and wispy brown hair pulled into a braid. 

“Uh yes, I came for the job. I need the money.”

“How old are you?” The speaker of the group came closer.

“Sixteen but I can work hard.”

“Not like he wants you to. He’s a bad man, does bad things to us. We have people that we have to take care of. We all have kids to feed and we’re already in too deep. Trust me, you’d be better off being a working girl on your own terms.” 

After several more moments speaking with the women, Abigail was convinced. She left with her head hung down low, disheartened. Why were all the men in this world such creeps? It was heartbreaking to know that she would most likely have to make a profession from having to do the thing she was running away from: being touched by men she didn’t want to touch her. It wasn’t fair. All the girls in the town she came from were going to be housewives and socialites and she was going to be Abigail the Whore. Abigail never hated prostitutes, she just always thought herself to be above them. That’s what privilege does, she supposed, makes you so far removed from poverty that you can’t imagine that people are doing what they have to do to survive and that doesn’t make anyone better or worse than anyone else.

Abigail was contemplating all of this several days later as she hid behind a tree near a path running through the forest. She was thinking how wrong this was. She was only 16, but she was hungry, she had no choice. Her thoughts subsided instantaneously when she heard hooves gallop across the path. She was sure what she was about to do was a very shady way to pick someone up, but there weren’t any prostitute hangouts nearby that she knew of. She had no idea how to do this. It didn’t matter how she did it, she decided, as long as she got it done.

Abigail peeked out from behind the tree she was hiding and saw the person that was riding through was a man. That was great for her, she was getting fed tonight. If all went well, that is. The man was handsome enough, with greasy, rather long black hair, brown eyes, a mustache and stubble, and whatever Abigail referred to as “angry brows”. He was riding a small white Arabian.She took a deep breath and stumbled onto the road. 

“Mister! Mister!” she waved him down, not that it was hard to get his attention when she was blocking the path.

“Yes?” he asked impatiently, cocking his brow.

Abigail froze. She hadn’t gotten to this part in her mind yet.

“Do you need company for the night?” It all spilled out of her mouth so quickly that she wasn’t even sure what she was saying.

The “angry brow” man laughed. “Y’all are getting a bit desperate, aren’t you? Advertising out in the forest? That or you ain’t a real lady of the night.”

Was she really that bad at this?

“I’m not one yet, you would’ve been my first, errr, client. I’m just hungry, you know?” Abigail admitted.

She could tell the angry brow man was sizing her up. She tried to look more tall and confident and he chuckled at her yet again.

“Sorry ma’am, I got me an old lady. I do have some boys, though. They’re sloppy as all Hell and have no manners, the lot of them. Tell you what, you come back to camp with me and I might have a business proposition for you.”

It took a lot of convincing for Abigail to get on the man’s horse and leave with him. What if he was a murderer or something? But in the end, she was hungry.

Angry brow man chuckled when Abigail hesitated. “Some whore you are.”

     The words stung. It was silly at this point, really. She knew she would have to get used to it but that didn’t make it easier and it certainly didn’t make her feel like it was right. Despite everything that happened to her, she still felt like a child. Probably because she was; plain and simple. 

“Here, you can hold my gun. That way, I try anything you don’t like, you can shoot me.”

Abigail took the shotgun gingerly. “I don’t know how to shoot a gun, never held one.”

Angry eyebrow man chuckled again. “Probably not the best thing to tell someone you’re afraid of, for future reference.” he paused as he helped her up onto the horse. “You don’t come from the streets, do you?”

“I told you that I’ve never been a working woman before.”

“Yes I know, but I meant that you aren’t poor.”

Abigail laughed. “Look at me, do I look like I have any money? If I did, I wouldn’t be out here.”

“Usually how it goes. You weren’t poor before, though.”

“Sure. this horse is rather aggressive.” the white Arabian, despite having been calm with just its owner on it, was trying to buck Abigail off. It was quite a strange thing for Abigail, she had seen a horse become upset when a person besides their owner rode them alone, but never had she seen a horse be so aggressive when it was carrying both its owner and an outsider.

“Ah well, The Count doesn’t take kindly to strangers. He won’t even let my boys ride him. It’s nothing personal, trust me.”

“Your horse has a name?”

“Of course. All of our horses at camp have names. Do you rich people not name your horses?”

“I don’t know about rich people, but no, I’ve never met a horse with a name. We just call them by their breed and color where I’m from.”

“Seems a bit barbaric.” The angry brow man told her, huffing. She couldn’t quite tell if he was offended because of the way they treated their horses or that he wasn’t assimilated with he presumed to be “rich folks” culture. It wasn’t exactly a secret, just by looking at him, that he wanted to have an austerity look about him. He wore a velvet vest with gold chains hanging from his sides and steel boots Abigail had sworn she had seen at a speciality store for almost $60. And then there was the fact that he had this White Arabian, which was about $2000 for the horse itself, not including any equipment. He sure did have equipment for the horse, too. Gold saddle and everything: the works. Yet, he spoke of the rich as if he was far removed. It was odd but she didn’t have much time to figure the man out before he started talking again.

“My name is Dutch, Dutch Van Der Linde. And yours?”

“Uhhh, Abigail Roberts. Your name sounds like royalty.” Abigail was yet again taken aback by the contrast between the way this man presented himself to who he really seemed to be.

Dutch laughed. “I wish. If I was any sort of royalty, people wouldn’t live like you. We’d all be a huge family, this nation. Everybody would earn their keep, but nobody would ever go hungry.”

“You’ve got dreams, Mister Dutch. You sound more like a cult leader, though, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“You know, strangely enough, you’re not the first person to tell me that. I don’t mind. America is one big cult that makes you think the difference between the good guys and the bad guys is clear cut. Well let me tell you, the answer isn’t as clear as people would like it to be. Lines get blurred among all people.”

Abigail didn’t care much for this philosophical talk. She had never been to school or learned how to read, philosophy went right over her head. And she didn’t quite appreciate being talked to about things that made her feel dumb.

“So, you said you have boys?” Abigail changed the subject, partially to be spared of looking like a fool and partially because she was both interested and worried about what she was getting into. “How many?”

“Uh I can’t give you a count straight off the top of my head. I don’t know, maybe a dozen? At least?”

Abigail was extremely taken aback. This man had 12 kids? Abigail had never heard of a man that had both 12 kids, wore ostentatious clothing, and still talked about the US like it wasn’t doing them justice. Nothing about this man made sense so far.

“You have 12 sons? And you’re just going to give me to them? I’ve never heard of a father that does things like this.”

Dutch lit a cigar, balancing it in his mouth while he kept his hands on the reins of The Count.

“Well, I’m not exactly a ‘by the book’ type man. And besides, I fear I might have led you astray. I have four sons, but my gang is a sort of a found family sort of thing.”

Abigail's mind went fuzzy in terror when she heard the word “gang”. A gang? Oh God, what had she gotten herself into?

“What do you mean, gang? Do y’all go around and kill people?” Abigail thought of jumping off the horse at that point. Either they were to kill her when she got there or she’d be party to murdering others. Abigail didn’t care how hungry or hurt she was: she was not going to go around and start killing people for sport. This life felt like Hell, but she surely was not going to sign her spot in everlasting Hell. It simply was not worth it and besides, the thought of looking someone in the eyes and killing them made her sick, even despite her religious convictions.

“Sort of, but only bad men.” Dutch retorted, sensing she was getting worried and trying to calm her.

“Didn’t you just say the line between good and bad people is not clean cut?”

Dutch laughed nervously. Abigail could already tell he didn’t like to be questioned.

“You’re a good listener, aren’t ya? I’m not used to that. But not to worry, these people really deserve it. And we don’t usually let the women do the killing. Besides, it’s not mainly about the killing. More about taking from the rich and giving to the poor. Like Robin Hood. Do you know Robin Hood?”

Abigail nodded. She wasn’t so sure about his overall sentiment, however. Nothing should give someone the right to take another’s life. That was God’s job and to an extent, the law. “And so who are the poor, hmm?” Abigail was pretty sure that she already knew the answer to that one. 

“Well us, mostly.” Dutch admitted nervously.

Abigail scoffed. This man sure was a prize. He felt bad for his lady. She probably had to listen to this all day.

“Mister Dutch, I understand I’m not in a position to be making demands, but with all due respect, I’m not sure I’m gonna want to service these boys. What if they hold a knife to my throat or something?”

“They’re not like that. Look at how society has caused you to judge. You don’t even know my boys and you are already thinking bad things about them. Now-”.

Abigail didn’t fancy hearing any more of this man’s straw man spiel. She could tell that he had a silver tongue, but it wasn’t working on her. “Is it that big of a stretch when these men have murdered people?”

Dutch tutted her impatiently. “Killed, not murdered. There’s a difference. Besides, they treat ladies real nice. They don’t hurt ‘em. Especially a doll like you.”

The last sentence made Abigail uncomfortable to no end. “If they treat ladies so nice, why don’t they have women already?”

Dutch seemed to not have a response to that. The trip continued largely in silence. Abigail kept trying to decide if she wanted to jump ship or not, but ultimately decided against it.

Eventually, they made their way to a clearing behind a forest. Abigail could see at least a dozen tents and lean-tos. It was lively with music and laughter. But it was not lost on her that she could smell a stench from dozens of meters away.

“This is our place, Abigail. You will be safe here. No one will hurt you.” Abigail remembered hearing those same words from Betty and suddenly wished that she had just stayed there.

Dutch helped her off the Count and practically dragged her to a soap box to the side of the camp. It was a bit overwhelming for Abigail, she was trying to take everything in. It was rather hard, however, when several pairs of eyes were on her. 

“Everybody, listen here!” Dutch yelled. It didn’t take much, however, there was already a crowd gathering to catch a glimpse at her. Abigail guessed they didn’t have outsiders in their camp often. Abigail looked through the group of what she assumed would be leering faces. To her surprise, no one looked especially mean or murderous. The face looked curious, some even looked concerned, but none looked particularly dangerous. Abigail found herself wondering if Dutch had overstated the harm that his “gang” had done. There were several women with kind expressions, some even seeming to be younger than her, and this made her feel at ease. Not that women had stopped what had happened to her in the past.

“This is Abigail. Poor thing, I found her off the side of the road on my way back here from my meeting with Colm. Update on that: it did not go too well and for the time being, I think we should post at least two people on guard duty at all times. Nothing to be concerned about, though, we will pull through no problem. But I digress. Abigail here has been a victim to the ruthlessness of American capitalists. The ‘rich man’ raised her and then tossed her aside, poor and defenseless. And they think we’re the ones needing our throats sliced-” Dutch droned on and on and Abigail tuned him out, silently thanking herself for not sharing all her life details with him, for her surely would have repeated it all to everyone to prove his point. Abigail snapped back to reality when she heard Dutch order the boys to “meet their new lady”. Again, being referred to that way made her very uncomfortable.

A gaggle of men stepped towards her before a scowling woman with graying hair stepped forward, clanked two bowls together and yelled, “Dutch Van Der Linde, what the Hell do you think you’re doing? She must be scared out of her mind and you want her to meet the boys already? You’re insane.” The group of men laughed at the sight of the woman scolding Dutch.

The woman with the scowl walked towards Abigail and her expression softened as she held out her hand to Abigail “I’m Susan. Guess I’m the mother of sorts to all these fools. Let’s go set you up an area for you to live and be comfortable. Trust is important in a space like this and you can’t trust us if you don’t feel safe with us.” Abigail took Susan’s hand and walked with her towards the north side of the camp.

“These men are idiots, don’t understand feelings. But don’t mind them, they don’t bite, and it’s okay to yell at them if they overstep their boundaries.” Abigail nodded, knowing full well that she would never be comfortable yelling at those burly men. “Here’s where the girls sleep. There’s Jenny’s tent, Tilly’s tent, Mary Beth’s tent. Bessie sleeps in her tent with Hosea and I sleep in my tent with Dutch. I’ll send Uncle into town as soon as I can to get you a proper tent, but I’m sure any of the girls wouldn’t mind sharing in the meantime.”

Abigail’s head was spinning. All these names and information was a lot to take in at once.

“Uncle? Who’s Uncle is he?” she asked

“Oh that’s just his name.” Susan answered, matter-of-fact, as if men named Uncle were a normal occurrence.”

Susan spent the next few hours introducing Abigail to the women. First she met Bessie, a sweet woman who appeared to be quite a few years older than Susan. Bessie was kinder than Abigail remembered any woman ever being towards her, offering her candy and giving her constant words of assurance. Abigail immediately felt a daughterly sort of bond to Bessie, feeling that Bessie would never let any harm come to Abigail. After speaking with Bessie, Susan brought Abigail to speak with Mary Beth, Tilly, and Jenny.  Mary Beth and Tilly seemed to be around her age, maybe slightly younger, but still had a youthful joy that Abigail had lost long ago. Jenny was clearly several years older than the other two but still seemed young enough to be Susan or Bessie’s daughter. All three girls were very kind to Abigail, but Mary Beth seemed to warm to her the quickest. She quickly invited Abigail for a “sleepover” in her tent, showed her all the books she had, her new journal that she worked in daily, and pointed out all the men in the gang that she had a crush on. Susan scolded Mary Beth for “overwhelming” Abigail, but Abigail felt herself smiling and being grateful for her friendliness. Tilly was sweet but cautious, telling her some of the camp rules and showing her where they washed clothes and did other camp chores. In what seemed to be an attempt to relate to Abigail and make her feel at ease, Tilly told her the story of how she had been rescued by Hosea from a nasty gang. A part of Abigail wanted to tell Tilly her own story, but felt it was too soon and that she wasn’t ready just yet. Jenny smiled at Abigail a lot but didn’t say much besides introducing herself. All in all, the ladies seemed very nice and Abigail enjoyed their company.

At nightfall, Dutch approached Susan gingerly, as if she was a dangerous animal, and asked if Abigail could meet the boys now. Susan agreed as long as Abigail was okay with it. Abigail, still feeling terrified of the gang members of the opposite sex but not wanting to anger Dutch, nodded and went with Dutch to the camp fire where all the men were huddled together singing some song with vagina euphemisms. 

Most of the boys stood up when they saw Abigail and Dutch walking towards them. Two men, however, an old man who was very clearly drunk, and a lean man with extremely greasy hair, stayed sat down. Dutch went through all the men and introduced them all. The names spun around in her mind. Reverend, Davey and Mac Callender, Bill, Pearson, Dutch’s sons Henry, Frank, Robert, and Thomas. The list of names went on and on until there seemed to be only two more people to introduce. The old man, who Abigail was told was “Uncle”, had passed out, and the other man who had been sat at the camp fire had slunk away to his tent. The last two men introduced themselves as Arthur and Hosea.

“Don’t worry about these two, Abigail. They’ve both got women.” Dutch informed her.

The man called Hosea rolled his eyes and told Dutch in a strict voice that there was more towards this gang than an orgy house and Abigail was allowed to have friendly relationships. With the way Dutch seemed to almost cower at Hosea’s words, Abigail wondered if Hosea was the true leader here. Abigail would be very happy if that was the case, Hosea both looked and sounded more kind and sensible than Dutch. 

The other man spoke up, trying to dissipate the escalating tension between the two men before him. “Hello miss Abigail, I’m Arthur. Like Dutch said, I have a girl and a son, actually, his name is Isaac and he’s the best little boy anyone could ask for. I bring him to camp sometimes and you’ll see he’s the cutest buckaroo in the world.” Arthur beamed while talking about his son. Abigail knew far too well that being a father didn’t automatically make you a good person but she couldn’t help but feel safe with Arthur. He was big and muscular, but spoke with such kindness.

The four of them sat down at the campfire and talked for an hour or two. Abigail enjoyed herself more than she had in a long time, listening to Hosea recount his heists in his youth and embarrassing stories about his three “kids”, Arthur, John, and Jenny, who had been with the gang the longest. Her sides hurt from laughing when she heard the story of Arthur trying to teach John to swim.

“Speaking of John, where is he? He didn’t introduce himself to you tonight. That’s not like him, to be shy.”

Arthur scoffed, “he’s not shy, just a bastard. Thinks he’s too good to have to introduce himself like everyone else. He thinks that way because you treat him special, Dutch.” Arthur’s brows furrowed as he focused on crushing the cigarette butt beneath his shoes.

Dutch opened his mouth, presumably to argue, but Abigail was too tired to hear any more arguments. 

“I’m sorry, y’all, I better go to bed. Mary Beth is waiting on me.”

Abigail walked to Mary Beth’s tent and was greeted excitedly by the girl. Mary Beth wanted to share stories and gossip all night long; Abigail politely obliged. However, the excitement seemed to be all too much for Mary Beth and she collapsed of exhaustion within the half hour. Abigail didn’t have the same luck falling asleep, not at all. She gave up on the idea entirely after a few hours and crawled out the tent silently to get some fresh air. Abigail assumed no one would be up at this hour but as she was pacing around, she saw John sharpening a knife at the second camp fire at the back of the camp. She didn’t want to disturb him, he clearly hadn’t wanted to introduce himself to her in the first place, so she started walking back to the tent. Her attempts to go unnoticed failed when she got too close to one of horse and spooked it, causing it to winnie loudly. John turned around to see the commotion and noticed Abigail.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m heading back to Mary Beth’s tent, just needed to clear my head for a moment.” Abigail apologized. John stared at her blankly and she awkwardly began to step backwards towards the tent.

“Come sit.” he said flatly, as if he was reciting a line to himself.

Abigail was taken aback and unsure of what to do. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to talk to John, especially alone. But, acutely aware that she was alone with this man and knowing what men in her life did when they were angry, she walked over to the campfire and sat next to him on a log.

Abigail hadn’t seen John’s features properly until now, but seeing him in the light from the fire, he took her breath away. He was beautiful. Rough and tumble, sure, but still beautiful. He had deep brown eyes that had a softness to them, giving away that he wasn’t all so tough as maybe he wanted to be. He was clean shaven and had a slight smirk that didn’t seem to drop. He had various scars on his face and Abigail wondered exactly what trouble this man had gotten into.

  “Uhhh hi.” John greeted, bringing Abigail to reality and making her realize that he knew she was staring.

“Oh, yes, hi. Sorry about that.” Abigail was thoroughly embarrassed.

“It’s fine. Used to it. I’ve always been ugly.” he told her solemnly.

“No no no, that’s not it at all. I- well, I don’t know.” Abigail cursed herself when she started to blush, knowing that she had a habit of turning tomato red.

John noticed that she was blushing, it was hard not to, and seemed to realize why she was actually staring. His smirk grew a bit and he sat up a bit more. The smirk, however, didn’t last very long when he started to speak again.

“I think it’s fucked what Dutch is doing. Making you be a whore just for you to survive and all,” he said seriously before quickly addinh, “Not that I care who you fuck. Fuck everyone for all I care.” John’s eyes darted to Abigail nervously.

Abigail laughed despite the overall sentiment of his original comment. “ I didn’t think you cared, John.”

John seemed satisfied in her answer and continued with what he had been saying. “You know, I heard you telling some of the guys what had happened to you with your dad in all and well, don’t tell anyone this, but I understand. I went through it too, being exploited before my dad died. And Dutch picked me up and ain’t never made me do what he’s making you do. And it’s just like, how are you supposed to heal when this is your life now?” John struggled to get his words out; it was clear that he was having a hard time being vulnerable.  

Abigail nodded, not knowing what else to say. She knew what he was saying and she agreed. She also appreciated his words, she knew it was hard speaking about trauma with total strangers. They sat in comfortable silence for a while before John blurted out, “You know, it’s a shame. You’re so pretty, you could be an actress instead.”

Abigail giggled at the words that came out of nowhere. Was this flirting? She wasn’t quite sure, she had never been allowed to speak to men outside of her family.

“I- well thank you. That means a lot.”

John seemed frustrated with the response he was getting, so he continued. 

“No, I’m serious. They should put your name up in lights in those fancy cities with the picture shows.”

“You’re real sweet, John Marston. You don’t seem to be the type that should be running with a gang.”

John scoffed. “You don’t know me like that, Miss. I’m a bad man. Maybe an evil man. Although Arthur says I’m too stupid to be evil.”

“You are no such thing!” Abigail gasped.

John’s smirk had now grown to a full grown smile. He was basking in the attention he was getting from Abigail.

The two of them spent a few moments playfully arguing over whether John was stupid in which John told her of some stories that were compelling to his argument that he was, in fact, stupid. After the laughter dissipated, John started digging in his pocket nervously. His face lit up when he found it. He pulled out a pearl necklace.

“Hey, I was wondering if maybe you’d like this. I’d usually sell it but I noticed that you’re not wearing any jewelry and I think you would look nice in jewelry so maybe you could take this and put it on your neck.” John rambled, scared to death of being laughed at for the gesture.

“Yes, I know how necklaces work, John. Maybe you are stupid.” Abigail smirked. When she saw John’s face fall, she added, “I would love the necklace. Thank you for thinking of me.” She took the necklace from John and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, causing to duck his head so Abigail couldn’t see that he was the one blushing now.

“Well then, since we’re friends now, I was wondering if you’d want to go to a saloon and get something to eat sometime. It’s better than Pearson’s cooking, at least.” John fumbled through the sentence.

“I think if we’re going to go on a date, we should do something a bit more romantic than going to a saloon. Maybe we can have a picnic on one of those hills down the way. I saw them on the ride up here.”

“Well I didn’t mean it like that. But I guess if you want to…” John shrugged and tried to seem nonchalant but couldn’t contain his smile.

The past was Hell, but Abigail was starting to think that maybe the future wouldn’t be so bad.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Drabble: the Holiday Party

Member: Mind in the Gutter!Jungkook (reusing this banner from the fic, made by the wonderful @underthejoon​ )

Prompt: Y/N and Jungkook trying to be inconspicuous about their relationship at the holiday party and ultimately, failing.

Rating: R (nothing explicit, but there is a lot of innuendo lol)

WC: 2,465

↳ part of my 30K milestone drabble game

“Now remember,” you say as you enter the party. “We’re not dating.”

“Right.” Jungkook gives a little salute, looking way handsomer in his suit than any human has a right to be. “We’re not dating. I did not bang you into the headboard last night.”

“Jungkook,” you whine, glancing around – luckily, no one seems to have heard. “I’m being serious.”

“I know, so am I.”

You smile, about to respond but before you can, Taehyung appears. “Jungkook!” he beams, pulling Jungkook into a hug. The two exchange a rather complicated high-five before Taehyung turns to you. “M’lady,” he bows.

You fight the urge to groan. “You’re ridiculous, did you know that?”

Taehyung pops back up, grinning. “I do, actually. Have you seen Rhea?” He squints, searching the sea of holiday dresses. “She borrowed my lip balm at work, and I need it back. Mistletoe,” he adds, by way of explanation.

“Oh, sure,” you say, fighting a grin. “But no – haven’t see her.”

“Alright.” Taehyung’s frown deepens as he returns to you and Jungkook. “Wait. So, am I just supposed to pretend I don’t know that you two are… you know…” Rising both brows, Taehyung mimes a lewd act with his hands.

“Taehyung.” Jungkook steps closer. “HR doesn’t know we’re dating. We’re keeping things under wraps, okay? Taking it slow.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. You two are so obviously dating. You’re more obvious than – what’s the story where the two leads hide their relationship from their families, and it leads to inevitable disaster?”

Jungkook blinks. “Romeo and Juliet?”

“No.” Taehyung snaps his fingers. “The Notebook.”

Jungkook stares.

“I mean, he’s not wrong,” you add helpfully.

“Anyways.” Taehyung snags two glasses from the tray of a passing waiter. “Drink this. A whole night of not groping Y/N? You’re going to need it.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush, grabbing the glass. “I don’t grope, Y/N,” he mutters, tipping it back.

“You do a little,” you say cheerfully, taking one as well. “It’s okay. I like it.”

Sputtering, Jungkook replaces his empty glass on the tray. Wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, he levels his gaze in your direction. The way he stares makes you shiver, heat in his expression you pointedly ignore.

“C’mon,” you say, reaching out for his hand – only to freeze, yanking this quickly away.

Jungkook breaks out in a grin. “Seems like this might be difficult for you, too,” he teases, following you into the crowd.

You grumble, failing to respond as you push through the party. Taehyung veers off at some point, spotting Jimin at the bar and yelling something about shots. Jungkook continues alongside you, speaking low enough that he cannot be overheard.

“So, you like it when I grope you?” he murmurs, beneath his breath. Reaching out, he grabs another drink from a passing waiter.

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. “That’s neither here, not there,” you say, scanning the room.

The hotel ballroom if beautifully decorated, you must admit. The décor is miles above anything your last company did to celebrate the holidays. All they had was a company party, held two days before Christmas, which was really just an excuse for parents to bring their kids to work and forgo a sitter for the day. Occasionally, people brought in cookies.

There was nothing like this, though. Nothing like the chandeliers dripping with icicles, evergreen trees standing tall in the corners and frosted snow draped in piles on each available surface. It is beautiful, simply put.

Glancing at Jungkook, you cannot help but think he outshines it all. With his hair parted to the side and his grey, form-fitting suit – it is small wonder people are staring. Which they are, you realize, sipping your drink. Subtly, you narrow your gaze at Betty from Accounting.

Noticing this, Jungkook chuckles beneath his breath. “C’mon, baby,” he purrs, low in his throat. “You know I don’t want her.”

“I know,” you say sulkily, swishing your drink in its glass.

Jungkook studies you for a moment. “We can tell people, you know,” he points out. “There’s not a rule which says employees can’t date. Only direct reports.”

“I know that, too,” you sigh, setting your glass on a table. Its long white fabric drapes down to the floor. “I just… don’t want people to look at us differently.”

Nodding, Jungkook finishes his glass. “It’s up to you,” he says squarely, setting this onto the table. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You know I’d shout about this from the roof if you asked – just say the word.”

Cheeks heating, your lips part – and Lauren, from Marketing appears.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” she squeals, grabbing your arms. “I love your dress.”

“Thanks,” you say, fighting back a laugh. “Yours is beautiful, too.”

“This old thing.” She waves a hand. “I unfortunately blended into the wall during the Marketing team photo – but oh, well. Don’t wear white in the winter, I guess.”

You laugh, looking over and catching Jungkook’s gaze. He seems to be appreciating your dress as well, gaze dark where he lingers on the hem of your skirt. Pointedly, he looks up and swallows the rest of his drink. Slamming the glass down on the table, he forces Lauren to jump.

“Going to the bathroom,” he barks, turning around.

Fighting back laughter, you watch him push through the crowd.

Lauren stares at his back. “Weird guy,” she remarks. “Super-hot, though. Those pants.”

Gritting your teeth, you fight back irritation. “He’s the nicest guy,” you say pointedly. “We’re friends.”

“Oh, cool.” Lauren does not seem to care either way, not getting the hint as she rummages through her purse. “Anyways, have you seen Namjoon? I heard that he…”

Sipping on your drink, you nod and mingle for the better part of an hour. As you talk, you keep glancing around to see where Jungkook is. He is right – this is stupid, pretending not to be dating when you obviously are. It feels strange not having him by your side, as though you are missing a crucial piece of yourself.

Not that you need him to be happy, of course. You are fine attending parties alone – you have your own friends, your own life and hobbies, but still. The point is you are not alone here; Jungkook is here, too. Each time you think of something funny to say, you turn to tell him and realize he is not at your side. Each time you are cold, you reach for his jacket – only to stop, withdrawing your hand.

Each time you do this, your heart sinks a little – and for no good reason, because Jungkook is right there. He currently stands across the room, laughing with Yoongi and you could be with him if you wanted, but you were the one who said to keep quiet.

Finally, you give in and walk across the ballroom. Jungkook is laughing at something Yoongi said, another glass in his hand and as you approach the table, you realize he is tipsy. Cheeks flushed, hair mussed and telling everyone around him how great the delivery food in his neighborhood is.

Hiding a smile, you lean into Yoongi. “How long has he been like this?”

Yoongi swirls his champagne. “Oh, about an hour. Hoseok convinced him to do shots.”

“Hobi?” you ask, perking up. “He’s here?”

“Yeah, he’s Rhea’s date.”

“O-h,” you say knowingly. “That explains why I haven’t seen her all night.”

Yoongi shrugs, tipping back the rest of his drink.

Jungkook turns at the table. “Y/N!” he says, gaze brightening. Realizing you are not the only two here, his voice drops. “You look, uh, nice.”

“Thanks,” you allow, ducking your head.

Looking at your boyfriend for too long is all kinds of dangerous. It puts risky thoughts in your mind – like dragging him off to the bathroom, yanking his pants to his knees and having your way with him.

An unfamiliar guy next to Yoongi reaches out a hand. “Hey,” he grins, shaking yours. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Mark, I work in finance.”

“Y/N,” you respond, smiling pleasantly. “I’m new to the company.”

“Ah, that explains it,” he says, smile widening.

Arching a brow, Yoongi removes his drink and walks pointedly off. Now, it is just you, Jungkook and Mark who remain at the table. Jungkook glowers darkly at Mark, although Mark does not seem to notice.

“So, Y/N.” Clearing his throat, Jungkook sets his drink down. “Is the software I installed on your computer working well?”

“Uh, yeah.” Raising a brow, you look at your boyfriend. Jungkook has not installed anything recently. “Really well.”

“I’m in IT,” says Jungkook to Mark in explanation. “Y/N has had a lot of… needs lately which require my attention.”

Cheeks heating at the double entendre, you lift your glass to your lips. God, he is in so much trouble when you get home. He seems to know it, too, staring at you with a wolfish grin.

“IT, huh?” Mark says, turning to Jungkook. “Wow, what a relief. My email was going haywire the other day and I was wondering who to call.”

“Call me.” Jungkook’s lips curls, still looking at you. “I’ll help. That is, if I’m not busy fixing other… problems.”

“Oh, sure, sure.”

“What kind of problems?” you interrupt, meeting his gaze.

Jungkook’s eyes narrow. “All kinds. Vertical reviews. Horizontal reviews. Penetration testing.”

Coughing abruptly, you nearly spit out your drink.

Jungkook smile widens. “You’ve heard of it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mark chimes in. “That’s where you try and hack into the company as a test, right? Try and find where there are exploitable holes?”

Nearly beside himself, Jungkook grins as Mark does his work for him. “Yeah, we find those holes, alright,” he agrees, utterly wicked. “Sometimes it takes all night to fill them up.”

“O-kay,” you choke, grabbing Jungkook by the elbow. As you drag him away, you wave apologetically at Mark. “Excuse us for a moment. What are you doing?” you hiss, whirling to face Jungkook once you are alone in a corner.

“What do you mean?” he asks innocently.

“You know what I mean,” you growl, poking him hard in the chest.

Jungkook easily catches your finger. “No touching,” he purrs.

Something dark and needy swoops in your stomach. “Jungkook,” you groan, gaze darting to his lips.

“Yeah?” Subtly, he licks his.

The desire to kiss him is nearly unbearable. God, you want to crush him dumb lips against yours, listen to him discuss IT innuendo while thrusting into your body, but no – this is a work function.

“Behave,” you caution, dropping your hand.

“Fine,” Jungkook exhales, disappointment clear on his face. “I’ll be on my best behavior from now on.”

“Good.” Giving him a severe look, you turn around and march across the floor.

Problem is, you can feel his gaze on your retreating backside and each step you take sounds like stupid, stupid, stupid. This entire thing is idiotic when he is so close. For the next hour though, you continue to hold out. As the clock nears midnight, you stare at Jungkook, now out on the dance floor. Surrounded by Jimin and Taehyung, he bravely shows off the sprinkler.

“Hey,” says Rhea, sidling up alongside you. “What’s up?”

Glancing her way, you notice the straw in her mouth. “Isn’t the city getting rid of straws?”

Removing this, Rhea sticks it into her drink. “Don’t even get me started. The whole straw debate is just a way of distracting the public away from the true conversation about climate change which needs to happen. Please.”

“Noted,” you grin, returning to your drink. Glancing at Jungkook, you feel yourself pining and when you tear yourself away, you realize Rhea is staring. “What?” you say, somewhat defensively.

“Nothing.” She shrugs. “It’s just – why the hell aren’t you sprinkler-ing with him? Nothing dirty intended.”

“Rhea!” you groan, then laugh. “I don’t know, it’s complicated.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“O-kay,” she says, slurping her drink. “Because to me, it looks like you two are head over heels for each other.”

“Maybe.”

“So, then why aren’t you wish him?”

“Okay. So, here’s the thing,” you exhale, turning to face her.

Rhea’s grin broadens. “What’s the thing?”

“What if…” Swallowing hard, you trail off. “What if everyone knows about us?”

“That’s kind of the point.”

“No, but – what if everyone knows about us and then we break up?” Shaking your head, you sigh. “Not that I think we’ll break up, but… I mean, we could! And then I’d have to see him at work but at least like this, I could pretend to be fine. If everyone knew... I couldn’t.”

“Hm.” Rhea pauses for a second. “That sounds like an awful lot of work for a what-if scenario.”

“Let’s be real, though, most office romances don’t –”

“But most office romances aren’t you and Jungkook.” Rhea cuts you off. “I’m not trying to be annoying, but I want to point out the obvious. This sounds like an awful lot of pain you’re putting yourself through for something which might not happen.”

Knowing she is right about this, you turn towards the dance floor. Jungkook has entered the middle of a dance circle, pretending to twerk that flat ass of his. Trying not to laugh, you shake your head. Rhea is correct; this is dumb to not be with him right now.

“You’re right,” you decide, setting your drink on the table. Rhea whoops. “This is stupid. I want to go hang out with my boyfriend.”

“You go!” she cheers, scanning the ballroom. “You go break up that dance circle of his and I’m gonna drag Hobi under the mistletoe.”

“It’s a plan,” you laugh, already striding away.

As you cross towards the dance floor, your heart beats a mile a minute. Jungkook twists around beside Namjoon, both arms overhead and you cannot help but smile. He is such a dork. Your dork, though.

Reaching his side, you dance in between. “Hey, baby!” you call, flinging your arms around his neck.

Jungkook looks down in surprise. “Baby?” he says, gaze brightening. “Are we… are you…?”

Hands sliding into his hair, you nod. “Hey,” you grin, setting your chin on his chest.

Grin widening, Jungkook cups your face with both hands and lifts your lips to his. His kiss is soft, chaste but Taehyung hoots all the same.

“IT’S A PARTY NOW!” he yells, breaking out in a shimmy.

Ignoring this, Jungkook grabs your hand and begins to lead you off the dance floor. “Let’s go,” he demands, finger rubbing your palm. “Can’t wait any longer.”

Heat shoots to your core, knowing exactly what he means. Lacing your fingers together, you catch up to him quickly. “Alright,” you say, pushing open the door to the parking lot. “I’ve already thought of several horizontal reviews for you to conduct.”

“Oh?” Jungkook grins.

“Yeah, so let’s get back to my apartment. Detailed instructions forthcoming.”

  © kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[kyojurolover]

best friends: (3) stuck on you

Series Masterlist 

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader 

Summary: a story about two best friends who slowly realize they’ve been in love this whole time & would do anything for each other

Author’s Note: nothing too interesting happens in this chapter tbh ... hope you guys still enjoy it tho ! (Taglist is open !!)

Warnings: language, kinda long 

Peter

  Peter knew something was up with you when you had left that quickly from Flash’s party. And the fact you had pretended like you were good was weird. It had been bothering Peter the whole weekend. You had always told him what was on your mind and this was the first time you hadn’t. 

  Maybe he was making too big a deal out of it. Peter was known for overreacting sometimes; he’d lost count how many times the people in his life have had to continously reassure him whenever he felt like something was off. 

  But Peter knew in his gut that you weren’t being honest about how you truly felt. Your voice had sounded strangled before you had left and you didn’t give him a hug or even one of your cute, dorky smiles. 

  “You’re one distracted kid, huh?” Aunt May’s voice snapped Peter out of his thoughts. 

  “Huh?” 

  Aunt May laughed. “I was wondering if you had any plans for today? It’s a Sunday and you’ve been cooped up inside all weekend.” 

  That wasn’t all true. Peter had snuck out at night to do his job as Spider-Man which only was stopping a gang from mugging someone, getting a cat back to its owner, and making sure to keep a close eye on any cops patrolling around. 

  The whole time he had gone on his nightly outings on Friday and Saturday, his mind had been filled with thoughts about you. He couldn’t help it. It was like his brain was a TV and instead of being able to switch to multiple channels, it was stuck on you. Twenty-four/seven. 

  “I..I don’t think I’m gonna go out today,” Peter said as he played with his food. 

  “Oh.” Aunt May looked surprised. “Haven’t you and Ned been wanting to go to the movies?” 

  Peter shrugged half-heartedly. 

  “What about Y/N? You two are usually connected at the hip.” 

  “I think she’s busy.” 

  Aunt May raised an eyebrow. “‘Think’?” 

  Peter put his fork down and threw his head back. He rubbed his eyes as he said, “I don’t know! She...she’s been giving me mostly one-word responses and I feel like I’ve probably done something that messed our friendship up.”

  “Well, go visit her and see what’s wrong.” 

  Peter looked at her skeptically then back down at his plate. Maybe she was right. He should go over to your place and demand to know what was bothering you. 

  But what if that just made you more closed off? No. If the situation were switched around you’d definitley barge in through the door and coax some answers out of him. You’d be there for him. And he was going to be there for you. 

☆ ☆ ☆

Peter was nervous as he climbed down the fire escape to your place. He didn’t know why he was nervous. Maybe it’s because this would be the first time he’s seen you over the weekend when usually, like Aunt May said, you two were “connected at the hip.” 

  Peter went over to your window and put his face close to the glass. You weren’t in there. 

  He sat down, with his back against your window. 

  Where were you? Were you hanging out with someone else? 

  Peter felt confused. And jealous; jealousy was coursing through his whole body. Jealous of the person you were hanging out with right now. 

  He knew it was wrong to be jealous. But you rarely hung out with anyone outside of school besides him, Betty, and sometimes Ned. Mostly with Peter, though. It made him feel special. 

  A sudden thought slowly came to him. Were you..with Flash?

  The night of the party flashed in his mind. His heart fluttered when he remembered you two dancing in the backyard and how good you looked and smelled. His face got warm when he remembered the way you had leaned in towards him, your eyes on his lips. And then when you had left and Peter had decided moments later to follow you, Flash had gotten in his way. 

☆ ☆ ☆

  At the party, Peter tried to go after you to say goodbye and ask why you had scurried away so quickly but he had been stopped by none other than Flash. 

  “So...you and Y/N, huh?” It seemed by the tone of his voice that he was trying to sound calm and collected but the dark look in his eyes conveyed he wanted to hit Peter. 

  Peter looked over his head to see where you had gone but you were nowhere to be found. That meant you had already gone out the front door and Peter had lost his chance to talk to you. 

  He brought his attention back to Flash. “What are you talking about, man?”

  “You two are a thing.”

  Peter raised his eyebrows so high he probably looked crazy. “Me...and Y/N?” 

  “Yeah. Who else?” 

  Peter shook his head. “Noo. No way, dude. She’s just my best friend.” 

  Flash scoffed in disbelief. “Nice try, Parker. One of my friends told me they saw you two dancing together outside.” 

  Peter tried really hard not to roll his eyes. “That’s the kinda stuff we do. It’s just platonic.” 

  “I’ve seen the fucking googoo eyes you make at her. And you two hang out a lot for people who are ‘just best friends.’”

  Peter’s stomach dropped at Flash’s googoo eyes comment. Did he really do that? 

  But he tensed his jaw and stared Flash down. “If you’re insinuating that Y/N cheated on you with me you’re fucked up in the head. She’s a very sweet person and she loved you a lot, Flash. You broke her heart. I’d never do that to anyone, even you, and neither would she.” 

  Flash’s features seemed to relax and as he opened his mouth to say something, Peter walked past him, purposefully bumping his shoulder.

  Flash grabbed his arm and turned him around, though. 

  He seemed anxious as he said, “That’s why I broke up with her. I thought she was secretly seeing you behind my back.” 

  Peter didn’t know whether to smack Flash or laugh in his face. Instead he breathed through his nostrils and asked, “What did she say when you told her that?” 

  He already knew the answer before it came out of Flash’s mouth. 

  “I didn’t tell her that that was the reason. I told her I wanted to break up because I thought it was for the best and that I was already stressed out by a bunch of stuff.” 

  Okay, well, now tell him he’s a fucking dumbass, Y/N deserves better, and flip him off. 

  “You should talk to her. She needs to know.”

  Why’d you say that??

  Flash nodded curtly. And Peter stormed off. He needed to let out all this pent up energy and anger. Anger because Flash didn’t know how lucky he was to have you in love with him, how lucky he was to be able to hold your hand in the hallways and pin you up against your locker for a kiss, and how dumb he was to make you cry over losing a dickwad like him!

  Peter had been out for a while, swinging through the city, feeling nothing and everything at the same time, and he had made it home just in time for Aunt May to not get suspicious. And that night he had laid in bed thinking about you. 

☆ ☆ ☆

  Had you and Flash gotten back together?

  That was probably why you weren’t being yourself with Peter. Flash probably told you the real reason due to your breakup, how he had cleared it all up with Peter, and you were already upset and it increased further now that you knew what Peter had kept from you. 

  Peter hung his head between his legs. He decided he’d wait for you. Wait until you showed up with that hard look in your eyes and with your arms crossed. Wait, even if it meant you’d be yelling at him or giving him one word answers or simply ignoring him. Peter just needed to see you. See your beautiful face and the nice outfit you had picked out for yourself today.

  He missed you like crazy even though it had only been a day and a half. A day and a half of worrying, regret, anger, anxiety, and sadness. 

  Yeah, seeing you would put his mind and heart at ease. 

  Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes. Forty minutes. Peter had been waiting for forty minutes and you still hadn’t shown up. 

  He pulled out his phone and got ready to send you a message. He typed out “where are you?” but immediately erased it. It had been almost three hours ago when you had left him on read so clearly you didn’t want to talk to him. 

  Peter tried not to notice the wetness in his eyes as he climbed back up the fire escape and back into his room. 

  That night, he’d gone out as Spider-Man, his mind still stuck on you. 

chapter 4

☆ ☆ ☆

Series Taglist: 

@xroselights​ @liljennyx3​ @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ropes and Roses Part 5

Summary: Elizabeth Rosehill is a talented dance instructor and a force of nature that beguiles her famous student. Events in her life, however, have led her to search for more creative ways for her to keep herself afloat. What will she do to keep her dreams secure and what will it mean for her blossoming relationship. This is a very adult story about two people who are moderately terrible at adulting.

Warning: SMUT! unprotected sex (use condom sense, kids) oral (female receiving) slight angst, Dominant woman, willingly receptive to that domination but not quite a sub yet man

Pairing: Henry and OFC (am I doing this right?)

Word count: 1800ish

A/N: If you read it and like it, it would mean a lot to me if you could say something nice!

The air was getting cool and damp as they waited for their driver to pick them up. As a perk of being a performer, Elizabeth was picked up and dropped off each time she came in. The bouncer made a comment reminding her about the rules regarding taking a patron home, but kept to himself when she explained that they knew each other out of the club and he wasn’t a member. The bag she had slung across her back was stuffed with all her costumes and accessories for the evening. Henry offered to hold it for her, she however refused.

“So,” he began, “are there anymore secrets between us?

“There still may be a few. I have to keep you on your toes.” She mused with a raised eyebrow. “Can’t get rid of the entire feminine mystique this early.”

“Truly, we can’t have that, can we?” He watch her carefully, wanting to learn how to read her face. She was kind, compassionate, intelligent, and evidently capable of beating someone to tears. The car pulled up, Elizabeth waved at the large bouncer, and they took off.

“I think I know what you want to ask, but are too polite to do so. No, I do not have sex on stage with the women I perform with. Do I make them orgasm, sure. Usually it is just with a large vibrator. We had found out Olivia can squirt recently and wanted to show off a little.”

“Olivia was your naughty vixen tonight.”

“Yeah, she’s cute, isn’t she. So eager too please too. She is getting married in two months too.” She chatted. “But, just like me, we do this to pay the bills. Liv is an incredibly hard worker, she’s studying to become a neurosurgeon.”

“Good for her.” He answered quietly.

She stopped, wishing that the silence between them was less awkward. She searched for his hand in the dark unsuccessfully. There was a lot going on in his mind.

“Maybe, you should go home to Kal, I’m sure he will miss you if you don’t come home tonight you will break his puppy heart.”

“He will, but he will also be fine. Are you okay? I want to apologize but I don’t know how to process this whole thing. I am furious at Jeremy, he had no right to try and fuck things up for us. I also wish I had known but how do you tell someone that you as just starting to see, ‘Hey, I get paid to beat people.’ There isn’t a greeting card for that one. I don’t want you to mistake me being quiet as me not being alright with what you do. I’m just trying to absorb everything.”

“We’ve had a pretty terrible twenty four hours haven’t we?”

“We have, but maybe we got all of our bad luck out at once?”

“Maybe.” The car slowed down and stopped outside of an apartment building. “Do you still want to come up with me?”

Henry was already out of the car and coming around to open her door before she could finish the sentence. By the time they made it to the elevator he was kissing her neck. The entire ride up they were locked together, Elizabeth pinned to the wall by the massive man. The door chimed letting them off at her floor. She squirmed to try and have him put her down. He shook his head and squat down to pick up her bag, moving her to his shoulder, caveman style, hand on her butt. He only put her down at the door so she could let them in.

As soon as the door shut behind them, his hands were in the process of exploring the beautiful woman in front of him. Until he heard a loud meow. He broke off of their kiss and locked eyes with the biggest house cat he’s ever seen.

“You didn’t tell me you have a cat,” never taking his eyes off of the furry house guardian.

“Oh, don’t worry about him, that’s just Alistair. Like the Dragon Age character.” Elizabeth reached out and proceeded to rub cat behind her ears. “He usually meets me at the door, like a dog only smaller.”

“What the actual fuck, that creature is enormous. Where did you find him?”

“I got him as a kitten at a shelter. They didn’t think he’d get this big, but he’ll keep getting bigger until he’s about two.” The silver and black long haired tabby purred loudly. The woman and the cat briefly touched noses, “He’s my baby boy, I’m just little lady with a giant hairy pussy.”

“A dad joke, right now?” he chuckled. “I think you are the one that deserves a spanking for that, Mistress Bettie.”

“You promise?” Elizabeth bit her lower lip seductively, grabbed Henry’s hand and lead him to her bedroom. “I’ll give you the tour in the morning.”

Her room was surprisingly normal compared to what he was expecting. The bed had an inviting fluffy comforter on it that was dark blue with tiny stars all across the top and a fuzzy underside. It was going to be like sleeping under a teddy bear. There were no accessories in the room that suggested its owner had interesting tastes. Her headboard didn’t even look like someone could be tied to it. They locked lips again and Elizabeth started undressing herself. Her casual outfit they came to her home in was thrown to the side, he started stripping his suit but she stopped him after his coat came off. He kissed her neck lustily as he ran his hands down her torso.

She pulled back from him for a moment, then Elizabeth sat down on the bench at the foot of her bed, exposed except for the knee high socks she had been wearing under her boots.

“Henry, last night you seemed pretty excited about the idea of us.” He walked up to her, she started toying with his belt while looking up at him.

“I still am, in every possible way.” His voice was husky again, he gasped as her hands caressed him through the black fabric of his pants.

“Show me how much you want me, handsome. No, not with this,” she said she fondled him, leaning forward she grazed her lips against his bulge, “Show me with those lips of yours.”

Henry knelt in front of her. She sat up pretty and proper with her legs crossed at the knees, leaning her weight on one hand. He ran his hands up from her ankles, kneading her calves with he strong hands. He never broke eye contact with her as he gently kissed her the shin closest to his face. He moved her legs with the dominance he usually shows his lovers. He kissed, licked and nibbled his way to the apex between her legs before starting over on her other leg. He then grabbed her hips with his large hands and pulled her towards his face. Henry planted delicate kisses around her sweet sex. Without a word, he licked her with the entirety of his broad tongue, then flicked her firmly on her love button. He licked, teased and worshiped the perfect pussy in front of him. Her moans were music to his ears, encouraging him to ravage her further. Her first orgasm he had to earn, Elizabeth didn’t cum easily. He was more than happy to work for it though. As he peaked her pleasure, she grabbed the espresso colored curls and  kept his head in one place, yelling out his name.

Henry looked up at her as the tremors subsided, kissing the inner part of her thigh, “What do you think? Can you tell how much I lust after you. I’ve wanted a taste since I’ve met you.”

He chuckled as all she could muster was an “uh huh.”

“So, beautiful, what now?”  He asked, licking his lips.

“I want you to take the rest of your clothes off and lay on your back.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He replied with a wicked smile.

“You say that now, but you don’t what kind of trouble that will get you into.” she cooed at him. Henry obliged her, slowly removing the rest of his suit.  She sat between his legs after he got on the bed with her. “One day, I promise that I will give you the most earth shattering blowjob you have ever had.”

“Oh yeah?” He mused at her. She started teasing him, having her fingers dance up and down his magnificent manhood.

“Yes, however, I am feeling very selfish tonight.” She rubbed little circles with the precum along the tip. He shifted and inhaled sharply. She swings a leg over him and positioned herself above him, good God was he girthy. “I don’t even know if you’ll fit inside.”

She slid down his length with a throaty moan. She started to ride him, grinding herself against him. They begin to thrust and rock together, Henry losing himself to the pleasures of her body. He pulls her close to him, kissing her deeply to bring them closer. Her moans and whimpers drove him wild. She was the sex goddess of his wet dreams. Without warning, he pulled her hips off of him, and rolled Elizabeth onto her back. He held his weight on his elbows, holding her face with one of his hands. She ran her nails down his back, leaving deep red scratches. He thrust himself into her, losing the ridged control he worked so hard to maintain. Her eyes were tearing up, as soon as he saw, he stopped immediately.

“Oh god, am I hurting you?” he asked breathlessly.

“I’m okay, please don’t stop. Oh fuck, please, don’t stop.” She gasped. With her consent, he pounded himself into her. She arched herself against him in bliss. He felt the trembling start from her core. Eyes rolling back in her skull, her orgasm was sudden and forceful, pushing Henry into the abyss with her. He touched his forehead to hers, spilling himself deep inside of her. Elizabeth’s tears continued to flow freely.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It has been so long… so so long… since I have felt this good.”

Henry kissed her temple, “Don’t apologize, I lost my hold, you just feel so good. Damn, I thought I hurt you.”

He rolled over onto his back. He opened his arm up for her to snuggle up to him, resting her head on his chest, she ran her fingers through his chest hair. She shivered once coming down from her incredible high, causing her to giggle. She asked, teasing him a little, “So was it good for you?”

“Oh, fuck yes.”

“Stay with me tonight?” She asked, in that same small voice he heard that morning.

“Of course, my darling.” They drifted, peacefully,  to sleep in each other’s arms. 

[justniaaa]

Unravel Me (3)

Rating: 18+ NSFW

Work Count: 3.8k

Pairing: Christopher “Rio” Martinez x black!oc

Warning: Panic attack, anxiety, self doubt, swearing, use of the “n” word

A/N: Hey loves! So excited to finally share the third chapter with you all! Forgive me for the late posting, I wanted to be a post once a week type of writer but that seems to be not the case, especially with my semester starting soon and a new job being in the works. But please bare with me, I will try and make sure you guys get content even if it’s not consistent.  Thank you for reading my story and please like, comment and reblog. Alright enough of my ramblings,  Enjoy and happy reading! <3

Summary: Toni forms an unsuspecting friendship with Christopher that turns into something more. As her feelings towards him continue to grow she starts to  unravel the secrets that surround him and in return, he unravels her completely.

Chapter 3: Welcome back

“Finally,” Toni said with relief as she pulled up in her Honda Accord at Lux. She made sure to get to the bar early and was happy when she got there with five minutes left to spare. Taking a moment to herself before going in, she tried to occupy her mind with checking her hair and makeup in the rearview mirror. Try as she must, doubt began to settle in the forefront of her mind, in if she was making the right decision. 

Toni felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster. Out of breath, and body hot she turned her AC on at full blast, Dr. Simone’s instructions ringing in her head.

--------------------------------Flashback------------------------------------------

Now Antonia if you ever feel like you’re going to have an anxiety attack, I want you to try this breathing exercise called “Calming Breath”.”

Toni listened to her therapist Dr. Simone with rapt attention, “Honestly doc, I’ll take anything to just stop this shit, excuse my french.”

Dr. Simone chuckled, amused by her slip up. “No need to apologize, Antonia. How many times do I have to tell you this is a place where you can express yourself freely without judgment?”

“I know, I know.”

“Now like I was saying before, I want you to try an exercise called “Calming Breath.” What that entails is you taking a long, slow breath through your nose, and holding your breath to the count of three then exhaling slowly through your lips. It should help you relax your muscles in your face, shoulders, and stomach. We can practice a couple of times if you would like.”

Toni shook her head in understanding, “Thanks doc, but I think I got it.” After a few seconds of silence, Dr. Simone gave her a knowing look. “But just in case I don’t have it, can you repeat the steps again?

----------------------End of flashback-------------------------------------------

Hearing Dr. Simone’s directions, Toni began her breathing exercises, breathe in, hold, breathe out. She did the steps a couple more times until she slowly felt her heartbeat go back to normal. Softly smiling Toni was proud of herself for getting her anxiety in check until she looked at the clock on her dashboard.

She had two minutes until her shift started.

“Fuck, I can’t be late when I’m literally sitting right in front of the place”

Toni made sure she had all her belongings and shut off the ignition, quickly hopping out and closing her car door. Walking to the entrance, she took in the building, like every bar it looked mediocre in the daytime, with its red brick and black awning. But at night that’s when it’s beauty really shined especially when they turned on the fairy lights outside that gave the establishment a welcoming shine. She reached the entrance and was debating if she should walk-in or call Avery, but before she could decide the door swung open, almost hitting her in the face.

“Woah!” Toni said, quickly jumping back and almost breaking her neck in the process from her heeled boots.

“Oh, shit my fault ma!”

Toni heard a low voice apologize as she was looking down at her scuffed boots. Anger and embarrassment flooded through her, she was angry because her boots had white marks all over them and embarrassed because of course, this would happen to her of all people.

“Shit, you not crying right? Your shoes are fire but they not worth your tears.”

Is this nigga for real?

Toni finally looked up to show the man she wasn’t having a breakdown, “First of all, I’m not crying, I'm pissed and second of all the door is literally glass how did yo-?!”

“Oh shit Antonia?!”

Startled by the interruption, she stared confused at how he knew her name. A few seconds passed until the realization set in after she took in his dark skin and short box braids. He’s had the same hairstyle since college.

“Sean?!”

“Yoo! I can’t believe it’s you!” Sean came in for a hug as Toni stood there in shock, her hands came up awkwardly to hug him back. “It’s good to see you girl! How you been?!”

I’m emotionally damaged, I haven’t had sex in months and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.

“I’m good, and I go by Toni now mostly. How are you?”

Sean shook his head, “My fault, my fault.”

Her question wasn’t answered as Sean took a step back, eyes roving over her body. He had a smirk on his lips as he took in her black sheer top, fitted black jeans, and her slightly damaged snake print block heeled boots. “Damn Ant- I mean Toni, you look even better than you did in college.”

Toni was grateful that he caught himself and at the same time she sucked her teeth. “You are so full of shit, reminds me of back in the day when you would flirt with all the girls in our Humanities class, and Honey would get pissed at you for it.”

His smirk noticeably dropped, showcasing that her sister was a sore topic. Trying to lighten the mood Toni bumped him with her hip, “Anyways, I can’t believe you still work here, looking cute with your all black ensemble on.” He was wearing black, from the t-shirt to the jeans and even his Vans.

It reminds me of a certain someone.

“You know how I do.” He told her, popping his faux collar, “My I.T hours are slim to none sometimes, so a couple of months ago I asked Avery for work to keep me above water.”

Toni let out a harsh breath, “That’s why I’m here too, I just hope I can remember my orders, hell even how to make drinks properly...”

Sean nodded and wrapped his arm around Toni’s shoulders, noticing her growing unease. “Hey, no need to be nervous. You know this bar like the back of your hand and from what I remember I know you would’ve brushed up on your skills before you even thought about calling Avery for a job. I got your back, with whatever, so stop worrying about stupid shit.”

Toni looked up at him and saw the sincerity on his face. When they met freshman year he always treated her like a sibling, making sure to help her out if she ever needed him.

“You getting soft on me nigga?” Toni asked, breaking the sappiness between them. She lightly punched his stomach, making Sean playfully wince in pain. She laughed and wrapped her arm around his side, “Damn, you really are soft Sean.”

“Shut up killa, before I tell Avery on you for being rude to his favorite employee.”

“Now that I’m back, I think that title comes back to me,” Toni gestured to herself.

“Fuck out of here.”

They both chuckled as they walked to the entrance, the joking continuing between the old friends.

********************************************************************************************

Toni had been at the bar for hours, and like Sean said she quickly got back into the swing of things. When she walked in three minutes late because of her small catch up with him, she was worried Avery was going to wring her neck especially since it was technically her first day. But all he did was yell out, “Toni, baby welcome back!” His New York accent prominent.

The Italian man looked mostly the same if not a little gray on the edges of his once all black hair. The last time she saw him he didn’t have crinkles near his eyes when he smiled but Toni thought they fit him perfectly. Avery had a small belly now and wore a red dress shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves, showcasing his tattoo of his favorite pinup girl Bettie Page on his forearm. After all these years he still hadn’t strayed from the black slacks always saying, “The color never shows the stains of a bad night.” After introducing Toni to the rest of  her coworkers he went to the backroom to meet with some associates, letting her know he would be back to help out later.

It was ten o’clock and Rihanna’s Work was playing in the bar, making the mass of people sway to the music and talk with drinks in their hands. The crowd seemed to not be getting any smaller and Toni was taking people’s drink orders as she was making other customers drinks. She didn’t remember it being this busy on just a regular Wednesday night, but she could guess as areas started to get more gentrified the crowds began to change. 

The hanging lights gave Lux an intimate glow but provided enough light for people to see each other. Stools were lined up in front of the bar, and they were all filled with customers, laughing and drinking, some of them eating onion rings and french fries or whatever other bar snacks that were served. The wooden booths that were along the wall, gave patrons the option to be more personal and away from the crazy that was the bar counter.

“Hey Toni, I need a pitcher of Budweiser,” Rosa, her coworker, stood next to her, her voice was slightly raised because she was trying to be heard over the volume of the chatter.

“Gotcha babe,” Toni got out the plastic container and put it under the spigot, pulling the lever. As the brownish-gold liquid poured, she looked out into the mob, watching individuals coming in and out of Lux. Sean was vaguely seen from where she was standing, checking ID at the door. Toni stopped the stream of beer and turned to Rosa, handing her the pitcher, “Thank you!” The blue-haired woman said with a smile, leaving to go tend to her customer.

Toni was about to put her hand out to stop Rosa before she got too far. Wanting to let her know she was going to take her fifteen-minute break, when she heard, “Can I get a Jack on the rocks?”

Toni frowned, in confusion at hearing the deep voice that had been on her mind for the past several days. Was she thinking about him too much, that she conjured him up somehow? She slowly turned to the individual that never failed to give her goosebumps whenever she laid eyes on him. In his usual calm demeanor, Chris was sitting at the bar, looking at her with a raised brow and smirk playing on his lips.

And he looked good, really fucking good.

He had on a black button-up and a chain around his neck that made the eagle tattoo on his neck stand out on his tan skin. She didn’t know if it was possible but he looked even better than when she saw him last.

Fuck me.

Toni bit her lip from her sinful thoughts and got a glass from behind the bar, beginning to make his drink. She glanced up and saw him watching her with his dark eyes, making her downcast her gaze. Not wanting him to notice her slightly shaking hands as she got ice out of the chest, Toni finally spoke, “Well, look who's back.” she said while she poured the liquor into the chilly glass.

Chris looked amused as she put the drink down in front of him and in the process of releasing it his hand came up, holding onto the glass as well, making his fingers come in contact with hers.

“Missed me?” He asked both of their hands still on the drink and unmoving as they checked each other out.

Toni shrugged, “Hardly.”

“I think my feelings would be hurt if I actually believed you ma.”

Toni grinned at his words, “How was work? I didn’t think you would be back so soon.”

“Cut ties with some of my partners for fucking up the numbers, but shit is all good now.”

Toni went to reply when suddenly Avery came up next to Chris, he put a broad hand on his shoulder, “Toni I didn’t know you knew Rio.”

She moved her hand away from Chris’s touch and picked up the rag that was on the counter, cleaning up the sticky bar top. Toni felt like Avery caught her hand in the cookie jar and from his knowing look, it seemed like Avery might have the same sentiment as well.

Toni cleared her throat, “We just met, actually.” She didn’t really understand where the hell “Rio” came from when she had been calling him “Chris” for the past several weeks.

“Well let me introduce you two then, Rio this is Toni my returning employee and one of the best damn bartenders, I’ve ever had and Toni this is Rio, the co-owner of Lux and your boss,” Avery said making introductory motions between the two.

Toni’s eyes widened and she stopped fake wiping the counter. My boss?! How many businesses did this man have?

“That shits all semantics Avery, you're the real boss of this place. I’m just here to be a helping hand,” Chris said, giving Toni a pointed look, showing her that it wasn’t as simple as it seemed.

“I suppose.” Avery patted Chris’s shoulder again with a grin, then turned to Toni once more, “I think it’s time for your fifteen Toni the crew and I can handle it if another wave comes in.”

Toni nodded, “Thanks Avery, and nice to meet you, Rio,” she said sickly sweet. Toni left the rag on the counter and squeezed behind Rosa, leaving from behind the bar. She took a look behind her and saw Chris and Avery talking and her usually chill boss didn’t seem all that happy. Toni walked outside, seeing Sean sitting on a chair, his fingers moving quickly on his iPhone. He looked over when he saw her walk out, and gave her a smile displaying his pearly whites. “I was right, wasn’t I? Shit was like you never left.”

“Yes negro, you were right.” Toni said leaning against the window, her feet becoming achy.

“You can take my seat sis. I need to be standing anyway or Avery will have my ass if he catches me sitting again.”

Toni laughed, “Thanks.”

Sean got up and let her sit down, standing in silence. He kept glancing over to her while opening his mouth and closing it like he wanted to ask Toni something. After the third time of this, Toni sighed, “What Sean?”

“Nothin, Nothin…”

She gave him a sour look until he finally broke, “What’s with the name change?” Sean put his hands up in mock surrender, “Don’t get me wrong Honey and some of your friends called you Toni but you’ve never told anyone that they had to do the same.”

Toni went for nonchalance not wanting to alarm him, “I just thought Toni was better, it definitely helps with the awkwardness of people calling me Antonio all the time until I corrected them.” She thought that would be enough for Sean, because what she said made total sense but Toni was very, very wrong.

“Bullshit,” Sean said, making her mouth fall open.

“What do you mean, bullshit!?”

“You loved watching people get red in the face when you corrected them, so whatchu sayin’ is bullshit. We haven’t seen each other in a minute but I still know you, so give me the real reason before I call Latoya.”

They both knew her mom couldn’t hold water sometimes and even if she didn’t know the real reason, Toni didn’t want Sean talking to her and possibly unearthing secrets that she tried to keep buried for as long as possible. She took in a breath and crossed her arms. At first she didn’t know what to say to appease her old friend, as he waited for an explanation but she decided to stick to the truth as close as possible.

“I just wanted a change, I went through a hard time and to completely be rid of it, I made the decision to have people just call me Toni rather than Antonia. It really cemented for me that I was a different person than I was before.” Toni fiddled with a loose string on her jeans, “I mean my parents still call me Antonia and there are certain family members as well that do it too, but in my everyday life, I stick with Toni and the solace it gives me.”

Sean appeared satisfied with her answer, but Toni noticed there was a little squint to his eye like he knew that wasn’t the full truth but he let her statement stand.

“So, I’m probably hella corny for this and I know you won’t let me live this down but..”Sean outstretched his hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Toni.”

His expression was sincere and comical at the same time and it made Toni grin, “Nice to meet you too, Sean Puff Daddy Combs.”

Sean sucked his teeth, “Here we go with that Puff Daddy shit.”

A party of people came walking up as they were laughing, making Sean check their ID’s ending their conversation.

For a few minutes, Toni was scrolling through Instagram readying herself to go back inside soon when she saw Chris walk out of the bar. He was standing at the threshold and he seemed to be scanning the parking lot. When it appeared he didn’t find what he was looking for he went to turn back around, but he suddenly stopped when he saw Toni sitting in the corner.

Toni waved her hand, “Sup, Rio.”

Chris snickered and walked towards her, getting close enough that Toni could smell his cologne. He looked down at her as she looked up at him. “I can start calling you Rio if you prefer. I mean I have my own hang-up with my name, so it’s really fine,” she said.

“Nah,” He said, a matter of fact.

He didn’t supply any other explanation so Toni gave a soft “Okay,” and leaned back into the chair. Sean gave Chris a head nod as he kept doing his job and telling an apparent drunk couple, that they couldn’t come into the bar, much to their dismay.

“I didn’t know you had a problem with your name, I’ve been calling you Antonia since we met,” Toni turned her attention back on him, taking notice that he had a blunt in his hand and was lighting it up with a skull covered lighter. His gold rings glimmered from the lights coming from the windows of the bar.

“It’s my own personal shit, but shockingly I don’t mind hearing it from you.”

“Is that right?” Chris said. He took a hit and held in the smoke until he released it into the cool air, through his nose and mouth. Toni was mesmerized by the tendrils of smoke, she didn’t understand how he made even smoking attractive but everything Chris did turned her on. He offered her the blunt, probably thinkings that’s why she was staring but Toni declined, not really into smoking much like she used to because of a bad trip she had years ago.

“You probably think I’m weird as hell, that I pick and choose what people can address me as.”

“Nah I get it, some believe knowing a person’s real name makes you have power over them.”

Toni knitted her brow, “Do you believe that?” she asked him. Chris took another hit and rubbed his beard like he was mulling over the question.

“I tell my associate’s my name is Rio ‘cause I don’t want them to get to close, too familiar. When they start to get too comfortable and start to think we friends or some shit than that interferes with my business and I can’t have that.” Chris began playing with his rings like it was a tick of his that he probably never noticed he had, “So yeah I think having knowledge of someone's name can have some sort of power.”

She sighed and crossed her leg, “I think I agree with you, but if you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you care about me knowing your real name? It's not like we’re exactly friends.”

“Oh shit, we not?” Chris said feigning shock, “ Damn mama that’s fucked up.”

Toni rolled her eyes, “Oh please.”

Chris grinned at her and licked his lips, throwing the finished blunt on the floor and ashing it under his black and white Converse. “You’re different and if you gonna be my girl, I think it’s best if you know who I really am right?”

“Your girl? You haven’t even taken me out on a date, so how in the hell am I going to be your girl?”

“Right, Right,” Chris said. His phone began to ring and he took it out of his dark blue jeans and muted it, his eyes never straying from Toni. “So let me take you out this Friday.”

Toni snorted thinking he was joking but stopped short when she realized that he didn’t even crack a smile, “Wait you’re serious?”

“Dead ass”

Chris’s phone rang again and this time he did look at it, with an evident scowl. Abruptly he said, “I gotta go Antonia, but I’ll text you the details,” Chris kissed Toni’s cheek and turned to leave, in the process he took his keys out of his pocket.

Toni’s eyes were wide as hell at what just happened. She blinked a couple of times to get out of the fog that took over her mind and noticed that he was almost to his Range Rover.

As he walked further away Toni yelled out, “Wait I don’t even have your number!”

He took a look over his shoulder, “It’s straight, I got yours!”

She went to nod then paused, “Wait, what?!”

Toni heard Chris laugh as he got into his car, turning it on. He sped out of the parking lot, leaving her to watch his taillights disappear into the LA traffic. Sean came over to where she was sitting and heavily sighed fatigue, and annoyance relevant in his form. “Got damn, did you see how fucked up they were? Imma have to tell Avery I need help ‘cause I can’t take ID’s and pat them down while babysitting grown-ass adults. Fuck that shit.”

Toni didn’t say anything, her thoughts still on what transpired seconds before. Sean took notice of the silence and softly elbowed his friend, used to her having a sarcastic quip. “You good? What did I miss?”

I’m going on date,” Toni said, feeling a glimmer of happiness.

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