#Was upsetting to see comments about her appearance or how they just couldn’t see how she could be the love interest

[yueebby]

12:03 pm  — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo tries to convince his first years that he was able to pull you.

contents. fluff, crack??, whipped!gojo, mentions of having a kid, he is SO in love with his wife it's disgusting, the first years are sick of their teacher

“[name] sensei is a good looking woman, isn’t she?” yuji remarked, nonchalantly propping his feet up on the desk. “you think so too, right gojo sensei?”

a sly smile played on the corners of gojo's lips, eventually blossoming into a wide, dreamy grin. “good eye yuji! she's undeniably the most beautiful woman on this planet.”

megumi, seated at the desk beside yuji, couldn't hide his grimace.

nobara's expression mirrored that of a disgruntled sea urchin. “dream big, you two. she’s way outta both of your leagues.”

“she is, isn’t she?” gojo sighs dreamily, his gaze far away. a dopey grin settles over his face; like a man walking on air. it was deeply unsettling to the first years to see a grown man behave this way.

megumi rolled his eyes and muttered his disapproval, choosing to ignore his sensei, who had casually seated himself backwards on a chair.

gojo propped his chin with both of his palms, leaning closer into the first years students. “do you think i’d stand a chance with a woman like her?”

megumi buried his face in his hands, audibly groaning in response.

“a sensible woman like that and you? fat chance.” nobara deadpanned, squinting disapprovingly at her teacher. her negative comments elicit a grunt from the snow-haired man.

yuji’s eyes flit nervously from kugisaki to gojo. 

“sensei! i think you have a chance with [name] sensei!” yuji tried to reassure his white haired teacher, offering a thumbs-up. gojo responded by affectionately ruffling yuji’s hair.

megumi couldn’t help but speak up. “she’s a married woman, you know,” he mutters to his friend.

yuji’s eyes widened,  “you’re kidding! who do you think got the honor?” 

“but she’s so young!” kugisaki exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. 

their discussion is cut short when the shoji doors of the classroom slide open abruptly.

with hands on your hips, you stood sternly before your first year students and their teacher, an air of authority about you.

satoru couldn't help but gulp; you were indeed captivating when you were upset. it’s not his fault that you look so cute when your eyebrows furrow and you puff up in anger.

“i waited for half an hour in the courtyard to start today’s lesson and yet here i find my students, along with their sensei who should be in kyoto for a meeting.” a wry smile graced your lips, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. the three first years bowed their heads in shame.

yuji thinks this is the first time he’s seen his teacher nervous. a bead of sweat appears on the side of gojo’s face.

“honey!” he quickly stands up and walks towards you. with every step he takes, nobara’s face scrunches up at his disgusting conduct. 

“don’t.” you warned, raising a finger up to keep satoru at an arm’s length. he respected your wishes to some extent, grasping your hand and placing it within the hold of his own. the diamond on your ring finger glistened as satoru toyed with it.

gasps filled the room as yuji and nobara observed the display of affection. just how inappropriate could their sensei get, and why were you allowing it? what would your husband think?

satoru tenderly caressed your hand in his, cradling it as he leaned in closer. “please forgive me; it was an honest mistake.”

“honest mistake my ass. yaga told me that this is the second meeting you’ve skipped out this month,” you stated, peering fiercely into his blindfolded eyes. satoru’s cocky demeanor wavered, replaced by a nervous chuckle.

“the first time was when i took you to naha, remember?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “and if i remember correctly, you enjoyed our night out,” your eyes widened, recalling the romantic trip satoru had organized. 

feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you attempted to pull away, but his grip on your hand tightened.

“forgive me?” his voice softened, lips curving downward, giving him the appearance of a dejected kitten.

a sigh escapes your lips. he was going to be the death of you.

“fine. but this is the last time,” you warned, “and you owe me for covering for you.”

satoru straightened up, nodding fervently. “have i mentioned how much i love you?” wrapping an arm around you, he placed a kiss on the top of your head, despite your futile attempts to stop him.

“this is…” yuji’s jaw dropped.

“so inappropriate! shame on you!” nobara’s chair makes a harsh screech with how fast she leaves it to come to your aid. 

“kugisaki–” you attempted to calm her down, but she clung to your elbow, desperately trying to pry you from satoru’s embrace.

satoru’s hold on you tightened as he wrapped his other arm around your frame, pulling you close. he plops his chin on top of your head and resists nobara’s attempts to free you. like hell he’s letting anybody take his girl, not even his own student.

“crushing on a married woman is one thing, but to openly flirt with her– ” kugisaki struggled. you tilt your head in confusion. 

satoru’s strong arms flexed as he fought to maintain his hold on you. he nuzzled your neck. “’m fine right here,” he inhaled deeply, as if trying to take in as much of you as possible.

“[name] sensei! how can you stand there and let this man disrespect your marriage?!” nobara implored, wide-eyed, disregarding all respect she had for her teacher.  “how will your husband react when he finds how gojo sensei behaves around you?” she looks desperate, and you want to laugh at the sincerity behind her actions. you get it now.

only your idiot husband would pull a stunt like this.

“i hope your husband can fight because i’m willing to fight him to the death for your hand,” satoru mutters from your neck. you take your hand from nobara’s shoulders to shove the six-foot-three giant away.

“you seriously didn’t tell them, satoru?” you ignored his whiney protests as you created distance between the two of you. 

“tell us what?” kugisaki demanded. yuji was on the edge of his seat, nervously watching the unfolding scene, while megumi put his head down in embarrassment.

satoru looks at you with a deep frown on his face. uncertainty clouds your mind as his silence forebodes something. wetting his lips with his tongue, he quickly closed the gap between you, too fast for you to escape. a secure hand rested on your lower waist as your husband dipped you down to deepen the kiss. 

had you not been so absorbed into the kiss, you would have heard the scandalized gasps from your students.

you managed to place a hand on his chest to separate yourselves, “satoru, stop.” his eyes remained fixed on your lips, but he complied.

“yuji, nobara.. satoru and i are–” you hold up your ring finger for display.

“happily married!” your husband finished for you, a triumphant smile on his face. he squeezed you close, throwing up a peace sign. “been madly in love since i met her!” 

“what– no way! you pulled her?!” nobara spluttered, head whipping from satoru to you, unable to wrap her mind around the revelation.

yuji’s jaw is still on the floor, “megumi, you knew about this?!”

the sea urchin looks the other direction, avoiding his friends’ judgemental gazes.

“they… raised me.. sorta..” he mumbles under his breath. your heart melts at his confession. unlike you, the other first years don't take too kindly to his comment, as they start shaking him by the shoulder and starting their own interrogation.

“and we did a good job too! don’t you think we’re ready for our own?” satoru smiles down at you jokingly, his hands snaking around your waist and his hands sneaking onto your stomach. he leaves a couple of soft pats. 

“you’re cuter when you’re quiet, y’know?” you whispered. taking advantage of your students' attention on megumi, you place a single finger on his lips, hoping your husband does not notice the way your face feels like it is on fire. 

he does.

“no need to be shy now,” satoru said, grinning wolfishly, “we’ll continue this at home.”

your face flushes even deeper.

unbeknownst to you, the first years had fallen silent, observing how gojo whispered in your ear, successfully turning you into a flustered mess. perhaps they should give more credit to their sensei.

notes. not proof read (oh no). this was just a random scenario that has been plaguing my mind during halloweekend so i typed it on my phone at a party LOL this is me desperately trying to get out of my writing slump

[babysukiii]

regina’s puppy (1)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: mean!regina (not to reader), protective!regina, oblivious/innocent!reader, pinning, mutual pining but reader thinks it’s one-sided, use of “y/n”.

regina george definitely has a soft spot for you. if you ask her, she’d refer to it as a weak spot; resembling more like an invisible bruise inside of her that only you could see. you’d push and push it, til it bruises some more. until she’d sickly do just about anything you ask. it wasn’t a secret either; regina could be in the middle of being the worst human being on campus, and you’d just walk up to her with those big eyes of yours.

“hey gina!”

“did you see the new shake flavor at sonic? wanna ditch and go?”

“i stayed up all night reading the bell jar!”

regina would shift her undivided attention onto you within a millisecond, and you didn’t even realize it. you were so obliviously innocent. you didn’t have an underlying reason for getting close to the queen bee, you just caught her reading a book one day and started talking her ear off about it. the blonde, who got pure joy out of making girls like you cry, for some reason didn’t have it in her to tell you to fuck off or call you a dork. there was something about you that regina couldn’t quite place; it was something that made her heart flutter in her chest.

maybe it didn’t fully hit regina just how bad she had it for you until junior year. it was the middle of fall, and you had rushed up to her with a pair of sad eyes. “hey gina.” you greet her, but it isn’t your usual eager greeting. regina looks away from the mirror in her locker, looking at you. her brows furrow and a wave of concern washed over her, as she realizes you appear upset. “what’s wrong?” she demands, not even bothering to say hi back. “stacy matthew’s said i can’t be in debate club. she says i’m really nice and that’s not what they’re looking for.” you admit, and regina can feel the rage course through her before she slams her locker shut.

“where the fuck does stacy matthew’s get off telling you that you can or can’t be in debate club? she’s a fucking dork. come on.” she grabs your wrist and your eyes widen, shaking your head in protest but the blonde is already set on giving the raven haired girl a piece of her mind. nobody was going to make you sad and get away with it. “gina it’s okay i—“ you try but regina is already turning down the hallway, making her way up to a random group of students. they all go quiet as soon as regina is near. “where’s matthew’s?” regina questions demandingly, causing one of the students to nearly begin to tremble.

“st-stacy? she’s in the library i think—“ regina doesn’t even let the poor girl finish before she’s dragging you in the direction of the library. you weren’t really sure what you were expecting when you told regina about why you got rejected from the debate club, but this certainly wasn’t it. you weren’t expecting her to storm into the library. “everyone out.” she commands, and just like that, every student in the library is scurrying out. “not you.” the blonde hisses as she glowers at stacy who was in the middle of gathering her belongings. you watch the girl tense up, freezing, and a part of you feels guilty because of how terrified she looks.

“so it’s come to my attention that you think your dorky little debate club is too good for y/n…” regina trails off, and stacy’s eyes widen as her gaze flutters over to you. “don’t look at her for help, look at me.” regina snaps her fingers in stacy’s face; her behavior should cause you to be horrified, yet you can’t deny the heat at the bottom of your belly that comes from watching regina defend you. “it’s not— i didn’t say we were too good, i said she was too nice, regina. you know it too, that’s why you’re here debating for her.” stacy’s comment causes you to look down at your shoes, knowing she isn’t wrong.

“y/n is smarter than you will ever be. her gpa is higher than yours, and she had better exam grades last year. she doesn’t need to be a cunt to debate, she just has to be right… and she always is. you didn’t deny her a spot in your club because she’s too nice. you’re afraid she’s better than you.” regina hits her right where it hurts, and the way stacy’s face morphs into an ugly angry expression causes your eyes to widen. you had actually believed stacy when she said you were too nice for debate club, but now as you watch her react to regina’s accusations, you realize she only said that because she didn’t want you in the club at all.

“i’ll give you the rest of tonight to reconsider giving her a spot on the debate team. if you don’t, i have no control over whether or not the club gets banned… i mean, considering my parents are the ones who fund it.” regina puts on her best falsified sorry expression, and it causes stacy’s eyes to widen at the threat. her eyes lock with yours before regina clasps a hand around your wrist. she drags you out of the library, muttering angrily as she does so. “ugh, the nerve of that fucking bitch.” regina sounds genuinely upset, and you frown.

“you didn’t have to do that…” you whisper, barley being able to find your voice. she comes to a stop, turning around to face you with a deadly serious expression etched onto her features. “i did because you would’ve just let it go. she can’t just act like the queen of debate club; even the cheerleaders started being inclusive!” regina rambles a bit, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling. “yeah but i’m pretty sure debate club is all stacy matthew’s has. it���s fine. i mean, it’s not fine, but it’s clearly more important to her.” you shrug easily and regina huffs in clear frustration.

“that’s exactly why people think you’re too nice! you can’t just let people do or say whatever they want to you, and just let it go! just twelve minutes ago you wanted to cry about it.” regina points out, and you press your lips together. “if i held on to it every time someone upset me, i’d be a really sad person.” you confess lightly, but this does nothing to ease regina’s anger. “well, i’ll hold on to it for you. she’s going in the burn book.” regina mutters the last part, making you a quirk a brow at her. “the burn book?” you question, and she purses her lips tightly, realizing she might have said to much.

“it’s just this thing the girls and i have been working on…” regina’s demeanor shifts, and your brows knit together. “you and the girls? as in gretchen and karen? can i see?” you ask hopefully, and regina shakes her head quickly “no way.” she answers, and as soon as she sees you deflate, a look of disappointment taking over your features, she relents. “it’s not finished yet, and it’s kind of a secret…” she trails off, “i promise i won’t tell anyone! at all! not even riley.” you promise, mentioning your best friend who’s being home schooled this year. regina chews on her bottom lip; she’s well aware the burn book is just a harsh joke her and her friends came up with. but she isn’t sure whether you’d think it’s funny or not.

though regina can’t seem to be able to tell you no. “okay, but most of it was gretchen.” she lies as she begins to lead you towards the exit of the school. karen and gretchen furrow their eyebrows in clear confusion as they watch their best friend leave with you. even though school ended almost half an hour ago, usually regina would opt to hang out with the plastics. sometimes she even just stayed after school to “ogle” the football team during practice. but here regina was, leaving school with you. sure, her friends knew about her weird tolerance of you… but now you were hanging out?

“wait are we going to your house?” you ask uncertainly as you both approach her expensive car. she flashes you a look that says “duh”, “that’s where the book is.” she states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “shouldn’t you call your mom and ask her for permission for me to come over?” you inquire timidly, and although the butterflies in her stomach flutter due to how adorable you are, she rolls her eyes feigning annoyance. “she doesn’t care. get in, loser.” she commands, and you immediately obey; getting into the passenger side.

regina’s car smells like her perfume, and the backseat is messy. “your moms so cool for letting you drive by yourself with just your permit.” you say out loud and regina shrugs, “she’s alright.” she mutters as she hands you her phone. “pick a song.” she insists and your cheeks flush. “o-okay.” the way you stutter causes you to mentally facepalm, but regina finds it hard to stifle a smile at how cute she finds you. you put on a taylor swift song, and she snorts, “so cliche.” she says, her eyes unusually soft, as the sky and your heart does this pathetic little lurch at the sight of her smiling. regina looks so beautiful when she smiles; it almost makes you forget how she almost made stacy matthew’s piss herself a little while ago.

regina’s house is even bigger than you imagined. you knew her family was rich, but you didn’t think they were this wealthy. your eyes are as big as dinner plates as you look around the house. as soon as you walk in you can hear regina’s little sister in the living room; practicing dance routines in front of the tv. “ignore her that’s my sister kylie. everything she does, i did it first.” regina retorts simply, and you raise your brows as you follow her through her house. “hi honey! i made lunch— oh, who’s this?” a woman who you assume is regina’s mom comes out of the kitchen.

she’s wearing tight leggings and a top that barely covers anything. regina grimaces at the sight of her mom, “this is my friend, y/n. we’re gonna be upstairs for awhile. don’t bother us.” she warns harshly, and you offer the older woman a bashful smile. “it’s nice to meet you, mrs. george.” you let out before regina pulls you up the stairs, and towards her room. “your mom seems… nice.” you say as nicely as you can, and she scoffs. “she’s totally embarrassing. she lives vicariously through me.” she deadpans as you both walk into her bedroom.

her room is exactly how you imagined it. it’s pink and girly; there are various posters of celebrities on the walls. her bed was huge. “your room is so cool!” you exclaim, and she tries to fight the grin tugging at her lips. “it’s okay. i’ve been meaning to redecorate it, but i’m gonna make gretchen do it.” regina snickers and you giggle. “that’s mean.” you halfheartedly respond, and she tenses up. she wonders if you’ll laugh that way when you see the burn book. even though you aren’t in it, she isn’t sure if anyone you know is.

“so where’s the book?” you ask curiously as you take a seat on the corner of her bed. regina’s smile falls as she keeps her back to you, she reluctantly disappears into her closet, only to reappear with a big pink book in her hands. your eyes light up as she makes her way over to you, and sits by you. “you have to promise you won’t leave after reading this.” she states stringently, making you pause. you look at her in confusion, “it’s just… this book is like a fucked up version of the year book. we make fun of all the girls from school in it.” she admits hesitantly, and your face falls.

“am… am i in it?” you quietly ask, and regina shakes her head rapidly. “no! no, you’re not.” she promises and you nod. “okay, so why would i get mad?” you question, and regina sighs as she opens the book. you begin to read all of the cruel things her and her friends write about other girls. when you get to the part where regina makes fun of becky martin for getting a bob freshman year, you involuntarily giggle. suddenly there’s this lightbulb that lights up above her head.

“y/n, you should sit with me at lunch tomorrow.” she says, and you tense up, prying your eyes away from the burn book to look at regina. “you mean with you and the plastics?” you ask uncertainly, and regina rolls her eyes. “why does everyone call them that?” she mutters, and you shake your head. “because you’re all perfect like plastic barbie dolls.” you answer simply, and this causes the blonde to quirk her eyebrows to her hairline. “you think gretchen and karen are perfect?” she asks with a scoff, and you nod quickly. “duh! you’re all so… pretty. everyone knows girls like me don’t sit at the “it” table.” you half joke, and regina rolls her eyes.

“i decide who sits at that table, and i’m deciding you’re sitting there with us from now on.” regina stringently states, her tone indicates she’s up for no debates. “we’ll start by giving you a makeover.” she declares, as she gets up. “come on, we’re going to the mall.” she adds, and you throw her an “are you serious” sort of look. “gina… i really don’t think that’s a good idea.” you try, but she pulls you off the bed, and onto your feet. “i’m already picturing how cute you’d look in bellbottoms.” she says, as she drags you out of her bedroom, the burn book long forgotten.

“i can’t buy bellbottoms! they’re like forty bucks a pair!” you stress, as regina leads you down the stairs, never once letting go of your hand. “i have my dads card, relax.” she assures you easily, and you frown, but don’t protest. you know better than to try and argue with regina, especially when you’d let her get away with anything and you think she knows it.

regina ends up spending over four hundred dollars on you, much to your dismay. no matter how much you protest, or try to secretly put items back, she was hellbent on giving you a makeover. thankfully regina claimed you had flawless features that didn’t need makeup, so you avoided the makeup stores altogether. when regina drops you off at your house, you have a hand full of shopping bags and you have to rush to your room in secrecy. fortunately your brothers are too transfixed with some horror video game, and your older sister was nowhere to be seen.

as soon as you’re in the privacy of your bedroom, you let out a little breath. today was the strangest day ever. you were used to your strange friendship with regina, but it was usually only a few meaningful conversations here and there. regina george was never full on “queen bee” around you for some reason, but she had never defended you like she did today. a part of you felt bad about telling regina what stacy did, but the way the blonde threatened the debate teams captain for you made your heart flutter.

tomorrow you were having lunch with regina and “the plastics”; you had to pick an outfit before you went to sleep which was out of the ordinary for you. you’ve never been the type to get ready for school, but there’s this insistent need to impress regina that you suddenly have. the way she ogled you when you had tried on the out of character outfits made your stomach tingle. the nerves in your body only increase as you think about it. as you stare at the various shopping bags, you know there’s no going back now; you feel indebted to regina george.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hi!!!!! Your writings are amazing! I wanted to ask if you would be willing to write a story based off of this last raw.

When Damian saved Rhea from Doms jump trick I thought it was super sweet and got an idea.

Could you possibly write something where Y/N is jumped back stage by Jd Mcdumbass but The terror twins catch them in the process and while Damian chases him off Rhea comforts you and helps tend to the slight injuries, then Damian comes back to also comfort.

(Platonic)

damian priest x reader x rhea ripley (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

don’t touch what’s mine

you were the last og member of the judgment day and after the disaster that happened at summerslam, you stood with rhea and damian. they were your family and you didn’t want to leave them behind.

now it was you, rhea and damian against the rest of the team, and liv. words couldn’t explain how much you despised liv morgan, she wanted to be that girl but in your eyes she was just a failure.

so, when rhea told you to stay backstage because she didn’t want you to risk getting injured, you were reluctant but you did as she said.

you were nervously watching rhea destroying on the mic both live and dom, smiling at her confidence and wishing you could be like her. you’ve always admired her, her strength and her big personality, she taught you to be the person you are today and all you’ve accomplished in the past was much thanks to her.

the whole liv and dom segment was pure chaos, both trying to say the most stupid things just to upset rhea.

you laughed when damian appeared behind them. he was pissed as much as rhea was and he had every right to start his attack on dom.

but in less than a few minutes it erupted into complete anarchy. damian starting him match against carlito early and of course - winning. but the judgment day, or at least “the budget day”, how you liked to call them, couldn’t stand to see carlito lose so they began their attack on damian.

rhea came to the rescue, scaring everyone away. but your heart skipped a beat when you saw how easily finn sacrificed jd to save his own face.

“it’s not gonna work out for you finn” you whispered, softly smiling at the screen in front of you.

and while rhea and damian were happily celebrating inside the ring, you left the changing room to wait for them backstage.

your eyes met finn who was visibly upset, and maybe a little embarrassed for how his team just lost. you couldn’t help to smile and think how stupid he was to choose the wrong part of the team but your happiness didn’t last long enough because you fell on the floor when you heard liv attacking you from behind.

“should have stayed in the changing room where mom and dad want to hide you” she smirked before leaving with dom.

she didn’t hurt you that much but when a hand grabbed your hair from behind, yanking your neck even more on the ground, in that moment, you felt pain.

“you choose the wrong people to have on your side” jd smirked while he was still grabbing your hair “you should have listened to finn back at summerslam” he kept saying but you couldn’t really understand what he was saying as you were focus on your pain, his hand lifting you off the ground by your hair, your scalp was probably turning red from the strength he put into it “we could have been your new team y/n but you chose the wrong people” he laughed.

“i still have no idea why you are a part of this group, all you do is suck” he replied back, no fear of what he could have done with you as you were feeling pain from your scalp to your neck and into your shoulders.

you couldn’t see his eyes as he was manhandling you from behind but you could feel his body going rigid, getting even angrier.

“you’re all talk y/n” he said moving his hand from your head to your neck, making you yelp from the pain but you weren’t going to give up “if they care so much about you, why aren’t they here uh? if they love you so much, why are you here all alone? where are they?” he laughed into your ear, forcing his hand on your neck.

“right here dumbass” you heard damian’s voice and jd’s held on your neck got limp, as if he was scared of what damian might have done to him.

before he could get away with it, rhea attacked him from behind, making him fall on the ground “don’t fucking touch what’s mine ever again" she spat out, making him shiver.

damian grabbed him from the neck, just like how he had grabbed you earlier while rhea went to check up on you.

“let’s go mcdumb” damian called him making you chuckle. rhea took you to the changing room while damian continued his attack on jd “mom didn’t teach you that you shouldn’t hit a girl?” now jd was scared because he knew damian was bigger and stronger than him “but you touched my girl…someone who was a friend of yours before you turned your back on her too and i won’t allow you to hurt her again, clear?” he screamed in his face, making him shiver.

dom, liv, finn and carlito where nowhere to be seen so jd was all alone with priest until someone heart the screams from the corridor.

“was i clear?” damian screamed again, holding him up from his neck and making him fighting for his life.

“priest let him go” punk screamed watching the scene.

“i’m not letting him go before he apologises to y/n! he fucking hurt her! let me repeat this again dumbass, you touch her one more time and you and your little team are fucking dead, clear?” damian shouted, waiting for jd to nod his head before letting him go “coward” he whispered before reaching for the changing room where rhea took you.

punk took one last look at jd, sensing how scared he was “better not to mess up with the judgment day, and especially with y/n…just an advice from an old man” he smirked before leaving.

in the meantime you were checking yourself in the mirror while rhea grabbed some ice for you.

“it’s gonna turn purple” she whispered gently laying the ice on your skin.

“yeah…”

“y/n, what were you doing outside of the changing room?” she wasn’t mad, she couldn’t get mad at you, you were like a sister to her but she constantly worried for you and seeing you being attacked by jd made her blood boil.

“i wanted to welcomed you after damian’s win…i wasn’t expecting them to being so mean…” you whispered.

rhea’s heart melted when she heard that you risked it all just for them “angel…that’s so sweet of you but don’t put your health at risk again because of us okay?” she softly smiled at you.

“but…”

“no buts please…one thing is you going outside because you have a match, one thing is you risking your own safety because of them, and i don’t wanna risk it, please…”

you knew you couldn’t say no when she asked so nicely so you nodded.

damian joined you two back in the room and he brought something cold to drink for you “it should help…” he smiled “are you okay mariposa?”

“yeah…it’s just…it’s gonna hurt for a while…”

“your neck?” damian asked.

“my head, my neck, my shoulders…everything, i still have to get used to them being against us you know” you chuckled, wiping some tears from your face “but i’m glad you’re still here…it sucks getting affectionate to someone just to see them go” you didn’t want to cry, especially after seeing them winning on stage.

damian’s face soften at your words. he knew how important was the judgment day for you so he understood how much you’ve been suffering the past two weeks “we ain’t going nowhere mariposa and that’s a promise…”

“we will always be here y/n…we ain’t leaving you sweetheart” rhea smiled making you laugh “and it’s okay to feel betrayed, we feel it too, but please don’t keep everything inside okay? if you need to talk about it or to cry, we are here for you…”

you were glad rhea and damian were still by your side.

“okay…it just…i wished they weren’t so dumb to throw everything away but it will pass…thanks for being here” you wiped more tears away but your hand was gently replaced with damian’s one.

he was gently stroking your cheek “i promise you that we’ll never leave, but as rhea said, if something bothers you, let it out okay?”

“i will, i promise…but next monday i wanna kick jd’s ass with you guys, please…it will make me feel better”

“oh don’t use this method on me love” rhea joked, knowing she couldn’t say no when you said that something was making you feel good “but we will let you on stage with us, right damian?”

“absolutely, and i will help you kick his ass” he laughed.

“can we go back to the hotel room now? i feel like i need a hot shower and at least ten hours of sleep” you asked making them chuckle.

“let’s go princess…i’ll help ya to put some lotion of your neck and shoulders after you’re all clean…” rhea smiled.

“yes please…i feel like my whole body is on fire right now…” you said, your hand moving to massage your neck.

“we will take care of you i promise” damian smiled “and then i’ll take care of jd dumb fucking ass” he whispered only for rhea to hear.

you didn’t know what to expect but while you were in the shower, relaxing yourself, you heard some noises coming from the corridor.

you heard jd screaming apologies for you, making you laugh. knowing that rhea and damian were behind all of this, you relaxed a little more, knowing that no matter what happened, you would always have each other’s backs.

[flkwh0re]

Babysitter (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Mommy kink (W), Age gap, Squirting, Masturbation, Breast/body worship, Strap-on usage (R receiving), can’t remember anymore.

A/n: Sorry this took a little long, I wasn’t busy just lazy buuuut milf mommy wanda is here!! enjoy! wrote this and listened to two mcr albums omgg it’s 1 am 😓

Wc: 1,5k

Tag: @alexawynters

part one here

yet to be proof read

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

Wanda stood outside of your door room, flowers in her hand hesitant to knock. She was nervous to see announce the news to you about her finalized divorce with Jarvis.

As she brought her hand to knock, she heard the voices of two women and your laughter. She was sure she told you she’d be over today, had she forgot? Perhaps you knew but invited your friends over during the same time.

Wanda firmly knocked and waited a second, when you showed no answer, she was pissed. She knocked even harder the second time, the voices inside the apartment fell silent. Then you appeared at the door, “Oh my god Wanda! Hi, I missed you. Uhm, my friends are here so you know.” You said nervously, hoping she’d get your tone.

“Oh I’m well aware, what happened to our plans for today huh? I told you I’d be here at this time, but you go and invite people over to intrude our time!” She said sternly, alight fear rising in you. Suddenly, Wanda burst out into laughter. “Oh sweet girl, I’m playing. Though, I am a little sad you forgot.”

You felt bad, you couldn’t believe you forgot about Wanda wanting to come over. “I’m sorry Wanda, I can ask- " You were cut off by Kate, your best friend, wrapping her arm around your shoulder.

“Miss Maximoff!! What are you doing here at Y/n’s apartment?” Kate asked, you internally cursed the situation. “How do you know Wanda?” You asked, putting Kate’s arm off your shoulder. “Oh she was just my neighbor, I knew her mom pretty well too.” Wanda pipes in.

Well shit, you thought to yourself. “Here Wanda, come in and I’ll kick them out.” You said to Wanda as you pulled her through the door.

“Alright Kate, gotta kick you and Yelena out. Wanda and I have something to talk about.” You told her with a sarcastic smile, to which she cackled.

“The only discussing you’ll be doing is sex.” She said, you slapped her arm harshly causing her to wince. You could hear Wanda snicker at Kate’s comment, then Yelena stepped into the hallway.

“Yelena, please collect your girlfriend. I have something to do.” “Ha, yea do for sure.” Kate remarked, “Yelena please!” You said to the blonde girl, everyone's laughter growing.

“Yea okay, see ya!” She said, pulling her girlfriend to the door finally giving you and Wanda your much needed alone time.

“I am so sorry Wanda.” You apologized to which she shook her head. “No, it’s okay, it was funny. I still am a little upset you forgot about me.” She said with a faux pout, “Guess I’ll have to teach you bout that.” She placed soft little nips and pecks on your neck, a little moan passing your lips.

Wanda backed away and looked up at you, smiling. “That’s gonna have to wait though, I have a surprise.” You raised a brow out of curiosity, it wasn’t often the older woman had surprises.

“What’s that?” You questioned, as she gave you an orange envelope and flowers. “Open it.”

You cautiously opened the delicately sealed envelope. You sat the flowers on the table, to make it easier to get whatever it was out. You pulled out a piece of paper, your eyes scanned over the paper and your jaw dropped in shock as you read the document.

“Wanda, you got the divorce?!” You excitedly remarked as you jump onto her, arms flying around her bringer her into your embrace. “I did baby, we can be together now.” She said as tears welled in her eyes.

“I can’t wait to start this chapter of your life with you baby.” Wanda said smiling largely. “Wait, the boys.” You were worried about them from the start, but you knew Wanda would have a plan. “Don’t worry, they’re a little upset but they still get to see their dad on weekends. Once they find out though that you’ll take his place, they’ll be happy.”

You felt a little sad at her statement ‘take his place’. You knew she meant well, but you couldn’t help but think about how you ripped a family apart because of your silly childhood crush. That didn’t matter right now though, what mattered to you was that you and Wanda could be happy together. You don’t have to sneak around anymore, and you couldn’t be happier to be with the woman you’ve loved.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked, kissing your nose. “Yea, just thinking.” Wanda hummed, “Why don’t you let mommy do the thinking baby?” Heat rose up your cheeks and you nodded eagerly. “I got us a new toy, I’m excited to try it with you.” She husked in your ear.

“C’mon, let’s go to your room.” She said as she grabbed your hand, leading you down the short hall. You reached the room you and Wanda had done so many sinful acts in, not once did the times feel like they do now. You were now Wanda's for forever, it almost felt like a dream.

"C'mon sweet girl, get on the bed. Mommy wants to show you how proud she is to call you hers." She placed soft kiss on your forehead, and her hands slither down your stomach. She slips your shirt off and graces your skin with her kisses.

Lips linger on your body painfully too long, but you hold back your protest so Wanda can worship your body. "Mommy, please." You finally whined in protest. "Oh, you poor thing! Mommy will stop teasing." She chuckled.

Her hands hooked around your back, unclipping the bra that wrapped around your breast. She worshipped each equally, licking and sucking on your delicate sensitive buds. Lewd noises escaped your lips as she began to grind her crotch against yours. You moaned even louder when you realized she was wearing a strap.

You two hadn't tried one yet, so Wanda was all too excited to fuck her girl into oblivion. "You feel that baby?" You nodded. "It's all for you sweet girl. I've been so eager to us it on you, I knew today would be perfect. Why don't you get on your knees and suck mommy's cock, hm?"

As you got on your knees, Wanda removed her pants and the faux cock hung between her legs. You practically drooled at the sight. It was a satin red color, not extremely big, but big enough to fill you full.

Your soft lips wrapped around the tip of the toy; you throated her cock as well as you could then began to bob your head. Wanda yearned to feel your warm mouth.

"Take your shorts off baby, I want you to touch yourself while I fuck your throat." Wanda demanded, to which you complied. Your nimble fingers rubbed over your clit as Wanda gripped your hair with a fist, hips thrusting the fake dick down your throat.

Your arousal practically dripped onto the floor, and your gags and moans filled Wanda's ears. She couldn't be in more of a blissful state.

"Alright baby, I think you're ready for mommy, aren't you?" You weakly nodded, and she helped you to your feet. She guided you to the bed and helped you lay down.

Her hands spread your legs, and her calloused fingers ran through your folds. She gripped the base of her cock, lining it with your dripping cunt. She pushed herself into your tight hole, the tip reaching your deepest point causing cries to leave your throat.

She steadies her thrust, then begins to slowly pound into you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight around me. Mommy just loves this perfect pussy!" You whined as she fucked into you.

“Fuck mommy I’m so close! Please let me cum.” You squeaked out, Wanda chuckling. “Go on baby, cum on mommy’s cock.” She grunted, her hips snapping rapidly against your own. The base of the strap brushed against her own clit with enough force to bring her to an orgasm, both of your orgasms happening at once.

Her high pitched moans filled your ears, pushing you even harder into your orgasm as she fucked your sensitive cunt. You legs began to shake as she didn’t let up, then liquid gushed out of you onto Wanda’s lower stomach.

Moans ripped from your throat, the sensation of squirting almost too much to bare.

Wanda slipped the cock out of your weak cunt, and undid the straps. She flopped down next to you, “Holy fuck Y/n, that was fucking phenomenal.” She giggled, a smile rising on her face making you smile too. “Yea it was, but I’m really exhausted now. You owe me some cuddles.” You say while making grabby hands at her.

“Ah, ah, let’s get ourselves cleaned up first. After that I’ll cuddle with you all you want baby, remember, you’re mine for forever now.” She said as she placed a soft peck on your lips.

You smiled, “Good. Now let’s go, I’m cold.” You grabbed her arm, pulling her up. You ran off to the bathroom and Wanda followed behind.

“Hey, what about a bath? You’ll get warmed up, cleaned up, and I can cuddle you.” Wanda suggested. “Do I still get my real cuddles later?” She giggled, “Of course.”

She ran the water, and as it filled up she dipped her foot into the tub. Settling into the warm water she piped up when she heard your voice, “You know, I never got to make you cum.. mommy.” She scoffed, “Get your cute butt in here.”

Masterlist

[tkwrites]

Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself) - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Summary: Still upset about finding out about Sarah from Brady, Jack has some hesitations when he and Luke come to town for the Finals. Can he get over himself enough to see what Quinn and Sarah have is real?

Warnings: Angst, sibling fighting, light body shaming

Word Count: 5,600

Comments: I’ve been working on this fic for almost three months and tossing around ideas for it since December. On Thursday, something clicked into place, and the story just fell together. I really like the way it turned out, and I hope you like it too! 

If you enjoyed this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

I love Quinn and Sarah, and I’m constantly blown away that so many of you love them, too.

 Understanding (or the one in which Jack Hughes is forced to get over himself)

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Sarah was sitting in the living room, trying not to freak out. Their night before had been one to remember, and her hips were still sore and achy from it in the most satisfying way. 

But even remembering Quinn giving her so many orgasms she lost count — murmuring how proud he was of her with each and every one of them — couldn’t take away from the fact that his brothers were about to arrive. 

Sarah and her siblings were close, but Quinn and his brothers were closer. They were all in the same phase of life - all playing professional hockey, all unmarried, and all figuring things out. Even Luke, who she knew, had been dating his girlfriend Kylee for two and a half years wasn’t in a place to get married, especially not while Kylee was still in school. 

It was so different from her own siblings, who were both in the young family stage of life while she was still figuring out no-longer-single life and dating-a-professional-athlete life. 

She loved her siblings, but they had less in common than they used to.

It felt like a huge test to be accepted by his family — his best friends. She wasn’t totally sure what she’d do if they didn’t like her. 

When she’d brought that up to Quinn after they’d finally collapsed into bed, he had pulled her close, kissed her forehead, and assured her, “they’re going to love you. I love you, so they’re going to love you.” 

She hadn’t pointed out how flawed his logic was. 

Quinn appeared at her side, holding a shot of rum, “here, I think you might need this.” 

“I thought you said I don’t have anything to be worried about!”

“I don’t think you do.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “but you think I should take a shot?” 

He gulped nervously, “Jack can just be kind of a lot. I’m not sure he’s totally over the whole, I didn’t tell him first thing.” 

Her eyes went wide, and while Quinn had the best of intentions, he realized what a stupid move this was. Instead of calming her down, he was making her more anxious. He tried to backtrack, “you don’t have to. It was a stupid idea,” he said before starting back to the bar — intent on dumping the alcohol down the drain.

“No, come back.” 

He turned, and she reached for the small glass, “it will take the edge off.”

Taking a deep breath, she tossed the liquor into her mouth. As soon as she’d swallowed, she pulled a face, “ugh, I hate shots. Remind me to never do that again.” 

Laughing, he lifted the glass out of her hands and leaned down to kiss her. They stayed that way for a while, each of them remembering slices of the night before. 

His phone trilled. He would have picked them all up from the airport, but Jack had insisted on renting a car for them to use while they were here, so there was no need.

The dinner they’d ordered was on it’s way, and everything was going to be fine. 

Having finished her finals the day before, Sarah had spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping in Quinn’s bed. He’d left for practice, then crawled back in bed with her when he got home, happy to fall asleep again, holding her close.

As a result, he looked refreshed and clear headed. 

“You ready?” he asked when the elevator dinged. 

She nodded, standing and wrapping her arms around his torso. 

She was wearing the same jeans she’d worn when she met the team and a cream colored top, partially unbuttoned, so he could see just a hint of her cleavage.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured. 

The very fact that he kept saying it made Sarah wonder if he was trying to convince himself into believing it. 

She should have worn the green dress. When she’d been packing to stay at Quinn’s overnight, she’d convinced herself the boyfriend jeans were lucky enough now, and she didn’t need to pull out the big guns. Plus, she didn’t want Quinn to think she only had one outfit she wore when she was nervous. Now, that didn’t seem like it mattered much, and she wished she had the comforting assurance of it with her. 

When Quinn opened the door and his brothers came tumbling into the apartment, Sarah immediately understood what her own brother had missed out on by only having two sisters. 

They were so distinctly…male. There was a lot of congratulatory hair mussing and punching going on in celebration of Quinn making the finals.

Ellen was dutifully waiting for them to be done so she could hug her eldest. 

To Sarah’s surprise, Jim was the first one to greet her, offering a hug she gladly accepted. 

When they broke apart, Quinn moved to introduce everyone, “Sarah,” he said, and everyone’s eyes snapped to him, “these are my brothers Jack and Luke. Guys, this is Sarah.” 

Luke gave her a shy smile and offered her a hand to shake. Jack didn’t move other than to give her a curt nod. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, pulling a smile onto her face she hoped masked her disappointment at his clipped response. 

Ellen rolled her eyes and crossed the room to give her a hug. 

The front desk buzzed up to let them know their food was delivered, and Sarah offered to go collect it just to get away from the tense meeting. 

When they sat down to eat, Sarah was able to engage Luke in conversation, and they started talking about his girlfriend Kylee, who would be coming out once she had finished her finals. Once the ice was broken, Luke was easy to talk to, and they swapped stories about work and growing up.

More than once in their conversation, Sarah caught Ellen shooting disappointed looks at her middle son, who couldn’t seem to stop staring at her, but didn’t say a word.

The conversation lulled, and Jack spoke for the first time, “so, Sarah, what are you going to do when you’re done with school?” His tone was almost accusatory, like he expected her to say she would be moving to Dubai and leaving Quinn behind.

“I’m not really sure yet. I like working at the aquarium, so I wouldn’t mind staying there. But if I could get a job in conservation, that would be ideal. I feel more passionate about it.” 

“What would you do in conservation?” he asked. It sounded a little like they were rehearsed questions on Jacks part, as if he were trying to appease someone by making conversation but didn’t actually care much about the subject. 

“Well, there’s a lot that crosses over in terms of what can be done in the wild to make our oceans more habitable to everything that lives in them. And if we need to do any rescue and rehab, I can help care for most of those animals.” 

“So you’re like a vet?” 

“No, I can’t administer any medical treatment, but I can assist. I thought about going into veterinary medicine, but it would have meant seven more years of school, and there’s a lot of aspects of being a vet that terrify me.” 

“Like what?” he asked with an arched eyebrow, as if her admitting she had weaknesses was completely unexpected. 

Sarah flicked a glance at Quinn, who was looking at his brother with narrowed eyes, as if trying to figure out what he was getting at. 

“Well, I’m not great with blood, for one. Plus, the smell of hospitals tends to give me panic attacks.” 

Somehow, this admission made Jack relax. She was human, after all. When they met June, she was all smiles and rainbows and didn’t admit to having faults of any kind. Quinn talked about how genuine Sarah was, but Jack wanted to see it for himself. 

Quinns eyes darted to her, and she gave him a small smile. 

“What is it about hospitals?” Jim asked. 

She took a deep breath and reached for Quinn’s hand under the table. Their fingers entwined, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

“My mom died of cancer, so she spent a good portion of the last six months of her life in a hospital, and every time I came home, I would have to see her there. The smell always transports me straight back.” 

Quinn didn’t hesitate to put his arm around her, and she leaned into his shoulder, blinking a few times. 

Jack looked between them and felt something twist in his gut. This was so much more serious than he wanted to believe. He’d seen the signs from Quinn — the dreamy look he often got when he talked about her, and how it seemed like they were together all the time, or the way he talked about the future, like he couldn’t envision one without her in it. 

The two sides of his mind warred. On one hand, he was glad Quinn found her, but on the other, he was still pissed he was the last one to know. He and Quinn were supposed to be best friends as well as brothers. He’d never keep something like that from Quinn, and it hurt every time he remembered Brady asking, “so what do you think of Sarah?”

Then, there was the whole issue of Sarah herself. Not that she was bad looking. She was pretty. But June was gorgeous, and Jack couldn’t help but think that Sarah was a bit of a step down. 

The meal ended on less tense terms than it started on, and Quinn took Sarah home. 

“Was it okay?” he asked. 

She knotted her fingers together in her lap, “I don’t know. Was it? You know Jack better than I do.” 

One of his hands dragged over his face before he reached for hers. 

Gratefully, she took it, glad for the reassurance of his touch. 

He felt off kilter. The end was such a stark contrast to the beginning that he had a hard time reconciling that morning as part of the same day. 

“Can you come up for a minute?” she asked when he pulled in front of her building. 

He glanced over with raised eyebrows only to find nervousness clearly written on her face. “Yeah, of course,” he said and flipped around to find a spot to park. 

They got up to her apartment, which she knew would be empty - Eunice had gone home to stay with her parents for a week, and Jane was working. As soon as the door shut behind them, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“What’s up?” Quinn asked, his hands heavy and comforting on the small of her back. 

“I just —” Sarah could feel the tears she’d pushed off for the drive home forcing their way up to the surface. 

She sniffed, and Quinn pulled back, “what’s wrong?” 

Sarah wiped her cheeks. “What if —” She didn’t want to say it out loud, but she needed to. Talking about it would make it better. She knew that, but it was still scary as hell to voice the anxiety that was eating away at her peace of mind. Not only was the summer going to fucking suck, “I think Jack hates me.” 

Something behind his sternum fractured, “Jack doesn’t hate you.”

Looking up to meet his eyes, she asked, “really? Because it doesn’t seem like he likes me very much.”

“I think he just needs time to adjust to the situation. He’s still mad at me that I didn’t tell them first.”

“I don’t understand that either. My sister was the second person I told.” Technically, she’d been the 4th with her roommates, but no need to split hairs. Rachel was the second person she’d told on purpose.

He pulled a calming breath into his chest. “I think Brady mentioned June to you?” She nodded, and he continued, “June was…” how did he even find the right words? “We dated for a long time. Way longer than we should have. We weren’t good together. I mean, you know all that weird shit she had about sex, and she would break up with me every few months, then come back after a few days, begging to get back together.” 

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It wasn’t great,” he admitted ruefully. “Anyway, my family never really came out and said they didn’t like her. They only said it after I called it off for good. I remember Jack told me, ‘Thank god, I never liked that bitch.’” 

Sarah wrinkled her nose, and Quinn laughed, “yeah. Brady was the only one who told it to me straight from the beginning. He was pretty frank with me; his family doesn’t really beat around the bush about anything. He encouraged me to break it off for good. Anyway, when we met,” he gestured between them, “I was kind of hesitant to tell anyone. Not because I thought you were like June. You’re not. In any way. But I didn’t… I didn’t really trust my own judgment, you know?” 

She didn’t, but she nodded anyway. That was something they could unpack later.

“I wanted Brady to meet you first since he and Emma had been so honest.” 

This, she knew from conversations with Ellen and Brady himself, but it was nice to hear it from Quinn. 

“Before I had a chance to tell him, Brady asked Jack what he thought of you while they were playing in Ottawa, and he called me, pretty pissed. I think he’s still caught on that.” 

Pursing her lips, she wasn’t totally sure what the protocol for this was. “Is there anything I can do to fix it? I don’t want —” she broke off, feeling she couldn’t say it. She didn’t want Jack to come between them. She didn’t want to have to forge a new relationship when Quinn’s brother and best friend didn’t like her, and she didn’t want to put Quinn in a position where he would have to choose.

That fracturing feeling was back. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Quinn said, picking up on what he thought the subtext of the conversation was as he ran his hands up and down her arms. “I think he just needs time. Jack doesn’t really hate anyone. It’s not in his nature.” 

“Was he like this with Kylee?” 

“No, but Luke and Kylee were friends in high school and college, so we knew her before they started dating.” 

She thunked her forehead onto his shoulder and took a deep breath. 

One of his hands ran over her hair, “I’m sorry. I know this put you in a really weird position.” 

She felt his words in his chest at the same time she heard them and swallowed the feeling whole. 

“I just don’t want to lose you,” she said, nuzzling into his shirt

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said. Definitive. Simple. Straight to the point. 

She knew she sounded whiney, but she needed to say it, “but what happens if he never likes me? I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose.” 

“Jack’ll come around. He’s never been able to hold grudges for very long.”

Looking up at him, then, hope filled her face, and he kissed her, hoping it reassured her. He was sure Jack would come around as soon as he could get his head out of his ass.  

“I’m sorry, but I need to get back,” he said as gently as he could. Not only was there a game tomorrow, he knew his brothers would want to talk. 

Swallowing down the loneliness of being in the apartment by herself for the night, she nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

‘Tomorrow,” he repeated before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too. One more?”

He couldn't resist.

One turned into six or seven, and he pulled away feeling light. “Jack’ll come around,” he assured again before kissing her once more and turning to go. 

“I mean, she’s pretty and all,” Jack was saying as they stood in the living room. Their parents had gone to bed, so it was best to have this conversation on the floor below. “But don’t you think she’s a little big?”

Luke stared at Jack while Quinn glared at him. “What?” 

“Don’t get me wrong, she has a pretty face, but her thighs are kind of huge.” 

Luke spoke before Quinn could follow through with punching his brother in the face. “Is this because you actually think that, or because you’re mad Quinn didn’t trust you enough to tell you first?” 

“Trust us,” Jack corrected through a jaw clenched so tight, it answered Lukes question for him. 

“Fine. Whatever,” Luke said. He’d come to terms with it. He had been too scared to tell Quinn what he thought of June. After thinking it over, it did make sense for him to go to the only person in his life who made their concerns clear and keep Sarah from everyone else. They got attached to June, or at least to the idea of her. Luke had never really liked her. But he liked the idea of Quinn having a girlfriend. Of him having someone here in Van while the rest of them were all out east. 

Now that he had met Sarah in person, not just talked on the phone with her - which Jack had made feel more like a job interview than a welcoming, get to know you chat - he understood just how bad of a match June had been for Quinn.

Gone were the tense morning phone calls after a blowout fight. Gone were the sick-in-love nights where Quinn was hanging up early before really talking to either of them so he could spend time with June while the getting was good. Gone were the confused, “I don’t know what she wants from me,” talks that happened way too often for Luke's liking. 

Not only was Sarah more stable, Luke felt like Quinn was more stable with her. 

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” Jack said, clinging to his pride. “You’re an athlete, Q. Do you really think she can keep up with the lifestyle?” 

“It’s not like she needs to go to the gym with me every day,” Quinn shot back. 

“The girls you’ve dated before have been…” 

“Listen, Jack. Yes, Sarah might be a little bigger than the girls I’ve dated before, but she’s more than all of them.” 

“I’ll say she’s more,” Jack snided. 

Luke stepped in, “don’t be such a dick.” 

“It’s true.”

“She’s better,” Quinn corrected, and his voice went hard. “She’s better than any of those girls. More driven and more supportive and more understanding and loving than anyone I’ve ever dated.” 

That stopped Jack in his tracks. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say. 

This. This was the thing he was most scared of. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jack knew Quinn or Luke would eventually get married, and their unit would be changed forever. They wouldn’t be The Hughes Boys anymore. Not like they had been. They would be different. Sarah was coming in and stealing his brother from him. 

“And just for the record,” Quinn said, getting in Jack’s face with a fierceness Luke rarely saw directed at either of them when talking about something so serious, “I don’t think Sarah’s fat, and I don’t think you do either. You never called Madeline fat, and she’s bigger than Sarah.” 

Madeline was a plus-size model Jack had quietly dated and broken up with the year before. 

Luke wondered, not for the first time, how much of their breakup was caused by Jack’s need to be perceived a certain way. Madeline was stunningly beautiful, but there were comments swirling all the time about how much bigger she was than him, and how could he possibly want to date someone so large, despite the fact that she was incredibly successful and was one of the most gorgeous women he’d ever seen. Not to mention that she kept to a diet that would put all of them to shame. 

Caught, Jack snapped his mouth shut and glared. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay?” Quinn practically begged. “I should have, and I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean you need to take it out on her.” 

Luke was struck at how much his oldest brother was trying to protect his girlfriend. Jack could say what he wanted about him, but when it came to Sarah, he was trying to put blame back where it belonged. 

Quinn sunk into the club chair closest to him, raking his hands into his hair. 

“Can you just TRY to get to know her?” he asked. “I think you’ll really like her if you get to know her.” 

Jack huffed a breath through his nose and nodded once. Once again, he was struck with a sudden sense of vertigo, like everything around him was shifting and changing, pulled just off kilter. 

He wasn’t blind, as much as he wanted to be. He knew Quinn, and the very fact he was directing the blame back on himself again and again told Jack all he needed to know about how he felt about Sarah. Even though he didn’t know her very well and resented the swift way she’d blown into Quinns life, Jack could see she would be around for a long time. 

A few days later, as they sat around the table to eat breakfast, Ellen met Quinn's eyes, a warm smile lighting her face. “She's good. I really like her.”

Quinn knew his mom liked Sarah from when she first met his parents several weeks before.

Still, hearing her say this after seeing her interact with the rest of the family meant more. Some of the lingering anxiety he felt blew away. Jack still didn't love her, but he was softening up. Quinn wasn't sure anyone would ever live up to Jack's ideal standard. Luke loved everyone and liked to talk to her about the ocean. Plus, it seemed like she’d get along great with Kylee. 

His dad nodded in agreement, “don't fuck it up.”

That spoke louder to Quinn than anything else he could have said. “I don't plan to.”

“Make sure you don't. She's good for you. Good for the family, too.”

“Too good for him,” Luke added quietly. 

“That goes without saying. Most women will be for all of you.”

Jack scoffed. 

“Is she coming to Hawaii?” his mom asked. 

“What?” Jack exclaimed. “She can't come to Hawaii! That's our trip.”

Ellen looked at her middle son patiently, waiting for his instinctive reaction to calm down so he could think clearly. 

“I asked her,” Quinn said, “but -”

Jack broke in, his hot head getting the best of him,“you talked about this without me?”  

“Relax Jack,” Luke said. 

“But she told me no,” Quinn finished. 

“She told you no? She told me all sorts of things we should do from when she lived there. I was really hoping she could show us around,” Ellen admitted.

“I know,” Quinn said. “She said she didn't want to tread on family time.”

“She's going to be a part of this family, isn't she?” Ellen asked. 

Jack glared at her, “mom, it hasn't even been six months.”

“Five months can tell you a lot, Jack. Can't you see how much your brother loves her? And how much she loves him?” 

Jack had to admit she was right. Quinn was more settled - no, that wasn't it. He had always been settled. He was more…at ease. A better, less worried version of himself. It was like Sarah had come in and soothed all this anxiety and all these fears that had been bubbling beneath Quinn’s skin. Only when they were gone did Jack notice. 

And Sarah was…sweet. She was considerate and kind and tried her best to engage him in conversation. 

“Sar told me she would only come if everyone said it was okay, especially you, Jack.” 

Jack looked at his brother, totally taken aback. Something in him shifted. “Really?” 

Quinn nodded. “She doesn't want to tread on our time. She knows we don't get much time together anyway.”

Jack had been feeling like she'd just come barging into their family, taking his brother away from him. He'd heard Quinn talk about her, but seeing it in real life - seeing how much time they spent together, how they had their own little language, and always seemed to be touching each other - he wasn't ready to lose his brother like that. 

But this shifted things a bit. It was one thing to visit the lake house or even tag along to a big family vacation, but the trip to Hawaii was more than that. It was going to be just them. Even Kylee wasn't coming. He was pretty sure it was because she had a family reunion of her own she couldn't skip out on, but the sentiment still counted. 

“I'll think about it,” Jack agreed begrudgingly. 

The morning after the Canucks were eliminated, Sarah wandered down to the kitchen wearing one of Quinn’s Michigan shirts and a pair of his boxers, still slightly twisted slightly from sleep. 

“Oh,” she greeted hesitantly upon seeing him at the bar, “morning, Jack.”

Watching her and Quinn interact last night had cracked something in him. Not only that Sarah was here to stay, but it awoke a kind of longing to have someone totally accept him. 

It was made even worse when he wandered up to the gaming room, figuring he could at least watch some TV if he couldn’t get any sleep, and heard noise from Quinn’s bedroom that let him know they were going at it. He didn’t ever want to think about his brother having sex, but the fact that Quinn had so many different levels of comfort available - all seemingly tailored to meet his exact needs - after a hard day woke a deep longing for that kind of intimacy in Jack. He hadn’t allowed himself to want it, at least since he and Madeline broke up.

He gave up on the gaming room and slept on the uncomfortable living room sofa. Now his shoulder was sore, and his hips hurt, and he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep. 

“Morning,” he mumbled, hating that she felt like she needed to tip toe around him. He knew it was his own fault, but now he was in so deep that he wasn’t sure how to get out of it. The conversation about Hawaii, realizing she was thinking about their family as well as her relationship with Quinn along with what happened the night before, had him feeling ready to make peace with her. Except that would just be him admitting he was wrong, which seemed so much easier than it felt. 

She put a pod in the coffee maker, more at home in Quinns house than he was. That was a new feeling. Jack had searched for the coffee pods that morning, and when he couldn’t find one, settled for milk. Now, he wondered why Quinn kept them in the drawer beneath the coffee maker when it would have made more sense to keep them in the cupboard above. 

“How did you sleep?” she asked, leaning her butt on the counter while the machine gurgled. 

He shrugged, “Luke snored all night.” 

Wrinkling her nose, she said, “I’m sorry.”

“We haven’t had to share a room when he’s not exhausted from hockey in a long time.” 

She nodded, pulling creamer out of the fridge. 

He watched her walk back to her mug, noting the way her thighs trembled with each step. He loved that about Madeline. The softness of her. She was stunning, but not hard. Before he’d met her, he didn’t know those things could coexist. 

“How did you sleep?” 

“Good,” she said, “Quinn was so exhausted, I don’t think he turned over once.” 

“Isn’t he the worst?” Jack said with a loud, laughing groan. “Flailing all over the bed.”

Sarah snorted when he nearly fell backward off the stool in his demonstration of flailing limbs. “Has he always done that?” 

“Since we were kids. He must be a nightmare to share a bed with.” 

“Thankfully, I don’t think I’ve experienced any flailing. He must be a little less writhe-y now, but if we’re not cuddling, he does usually toss and turn all night.” 

“Good,” he said, and then immediately felt stupid. What was she supposed to say to that now? 

“Where are your parents?” she asked instead, bringing the mug to her lips to blow on the hot liquid. 

“They went to get breakfast or something,” he said with a vague gesture over his shoulder. “They invited me, but I went back to sleep.” 

“Have you eaten? I was about to cook some eggs.” 

“Is Quinn up?” he asked. 

“He was still conked out when I got up. I figured I’d let him sleep. No use in waking him when he’s finally getting some solid rest.” 

There it was again - that pinch of jealousy. She knew him in ways Jack didn’t, like her knowledge that cuddling kept Quinn still at night, and she obviously liked to care for him. 

It’s not like he didn’t want her in his brothers life. She obviously made Quinn happy, and all Jack really wanted was for him to be happy. 

It was a weird, night and day difference between Quinn now and Quinn at the beginning of the season. When they’d left Michigan in September, it wasn’t like Quinn had been depressed - he’d been excited to get back to hockey - but he’d spent so much of the off season wondering if he and June were actually a good match that when he left, it felt like he was leaving without having anything truly resolved. When they’d finally broken up in November, a huge sigh of relief  had swept through Quinn’s whole life. 

Looking back now, Jack should have known something was up when Quinn started calling them, relaxed and cheerful, quick with a smile and a joke in a way he hadn’t been since he and June had broken up. Now, he was happy and content, and Jack could practically see the love he had for Sarah glowing on his skin. 

After spending time with her, he understood how Quinn had fallen so hard, so fast. She was kind but willing to put in the work, genuine and honest, but funny and snarky.

Might as well just get it over with. 

“Listen, Sarah,” he began, looking down at his glass of milk, “I’m sorry.”

She continued to look at him over her mug. It struck him that she waited for him to finish without jumping in or jumping to conclusions. 

“You’re really good for Quinn,” he admitted.

Something in her heart fluttered.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a dick. With June it was pretty obvious they weren’t going to last so I never put much stock in her, but I…” he chewed briefly on this thumbnail, thinking, “but I can see how you guys are good together.” 

A smile reached her eyes. 

He blew out a deep breath. “It’s just…Quinn’s my brother, you know?” Shaking his head, he raked a hand into his hair, “I’m sorry, I'm not making any sense.”

“It’s okay, Jack,” she said, her voice calm. He wondered if she ever raised it. “I’ve been through this, too, when my sister started dating someone seriously. It’s weird and hard when someone new comes into your family.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m taking Quinn away from you or something.” 

“You couldn’t,” he said, then realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t. I can see that now.” 

Smiling in a way he realized was totally genuine, she set her mug on the counter. “Thank you, Jack. That means a lot coming from you.”  

It was like she knew all he needed was time. There were no hard feelings, no grudges or fits. No glares from across the room. She just waited and gave him time, and wasn’t mad at how much he needed. 

And now that he’d admitted it, she let it lie, changing the subject as soon as it’d been put to rest. “So, do you want some eggs?” she asked, turning back to the fridge. 

It was a refreshing turn of events. 

“Sure,” he stood from the bar stool, “how can I help?” 

By the time Quinn wandered down the stairs, clumsy with sleep and rubbing his eyes, they had omelets going. 

Looking nervously between Jack and Sarah, side by side in the kitchen, he briefly wondered if he was still dreaming. One night, and it seemed all of Jack’s hesitations had been put to bed. 

“Morning,” he yawned.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, smiling bright, “hey, how’d you sleep?” 

“Good,” he said through another yawn as he walked up to them. He slipped an arm around Sarah’s waist and rested the other on Jacks shoulder, “you two made up?” 

“I don’t think we were fighting, really,” Sarah said, “but we came to an understanding.”

Jack smiled gratefully, and Quinn leaned in to kiss her cheek. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

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[marvelsmylife]

Breaking Point

Pairing: Bodhi Durran x reader

Plot: you start ignoring Bodhi after he lets it slip he let Violet borrow his flight jacket before she goes to see Xaden.

A/n I’ve had this idea in my head for a few days. Let me know if you would be interested in a part two

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Ever since you started dating Bodhi, you’ve asked him if you could borrow his flight jacket. You knew it was silly, seeing as you had your own. Still, you just wanted to show off that you were with Bodhi, and there was no better way than to wear his clothes.

Unfortunately, each time you asked, he would have an excuse for you not to wear it. You told him time and time again if he didn’t want people to know you were together. He, of course, always denied it. He told you that he did want you to wear it but then proceeded to give you every excuse under the sun as to why you couldn’t wear it.

So you were shocked when he let it slip that he let Violet borrow his jacket when she went to Samara. Sure, he had a valid reason to give it to her; you would have to if you were in his position. It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt that another girl got to wear his jacket before you, his girlfriend of two years.

You tried your best not to show it bothered you, but Bodhi noticed you were quieter than usual and decided to bring it up during lunch. “Come on, I know something’s wrong. Please tell me so I can help,” Bodhi tried to get you to speak to him for the fourth time in the past twenty minutes.

You were about to reply when Violet strolled into the dining hall and handed Bodhi his jacket. “Thanks again for the jacket,” Violet gave Bodhi a slight nod before she sat next to Rhiannon.

You stiffened when you noticed Bodhi’s jacket, and Imogen put two and two together. “Oh, gods. Are you fucking kidding me, Bodhi?” Everyone looked over at Imogen confused, before Imogen added, “You let another girl use your flight jacket before your girlfriend.”

Bodhi’s eyes widened, and he tried to drape his jacket on your shoulders, but you yanked it off. “I don’t want your stupid jacket,” you threw Bodhi’s jacket back to him and decided to unleash all the anger you’ve been bottling up. “I’m fucking mad at you because I’ve asked you if I could borrow this jacket for the past two years. You’ve had an excuse not to let me borrow it each time, but you give it to Violet like it’s no big deal.”

Bodhi felt himself shrink at your words as he realized he fucked up. He hadn’t realized how important it was for you to wear his jacket. Looking back, all the times you had asked were when other guys would give their jackets to their girlfriends. Bodhi was about to reach out to you, but you stood up and stormed out of the dining hall.

Everyone around Bodhi was telling him to go after you, and he was about to listen to them when Violet said, “You are probably the last person she wants to see right now. I’ll go talk to her.” With that, Violet got up and followed you out of the room.

Violet apologized profusely to you the second she stepped foot inside your room. “Violet, you have nothing to apologize for. This fight was a long time coming, and unfortunately, you got stuck in the middle of it,” you reassured her.

You then spent a solid hour explaining to Violet why you were so angry with Bodhi, and by the end, she started to get upset on your behalf. “I swear, men are such idiots,” Violet commented as you both stared at your ceiling, “Xaden acts like that sometimes, too. Maybe it’s genetic.”

You laughed at Violet’s comment, “I wouldn’t be surprised. Ugh, life was so much simpler when we used to believe boys had cooties.”

“Yup” Violet replied with a sigh, “I wish-”

A loud knock interrupted Violet and caused you to sit up. “Y/n, please let me in,” a frown appeared when you heard Bodhi’s voice. “Sweetheart, please.”

“You have to talk to him eventually,” Violet got up and started walking towards the door. 

She stopped at the door and waited for you to give her the ok to open the door. “Ok,” you whispered and braced yourself for the conversation you were about to have with your boyfriend.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Route 666 | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y, d e n i a l

Word Count: 4325

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After your conversation with Dean about why you couldn’t lose him, a nagging want was tugging on your heart. 

Dean explained to you that the father of an “old friend” of his was killed last night. Your stomach dropped; knowing exactly what “old friend” meant. 

Sam did, too. “By old friend you mean...?”

“A friend that's not new,” came Dean’s gruff response. His eyes never left the road.

“Oh yeah, thanks,” Sam deadpanned. “So her name's Cassie, huh? You never mentioned her.”

“Didn't I? Yeah, we went out.”

You felt like you could throw up.

“You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night?” Sam commented.

“Am I speaking a language you're not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks,” Dean explained.

Sam pressed further, but you silently begged him to stop. You hoped his mind powers would kick in long enough to read the way your heart was begging for mercy in the backseat. “And...?” 

Dean shrugged. 

“Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably.

‘He told her.’ You were definitely going to throw up now.

“You told her. You told her the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything? Dean!” Sam was getting angrier by the second.

“Yeah, looks like,” Dean grumbled. 

This job would undoubtedly be an incredibly painful one.

***

You saw a beautiful dark-skinned girl arguing with two older men in the newspaper office you and the boys had arrived at. You silently pleaded for it not to be Cassie. She was stunning; nothing but long legs and slender curves. Her dark hair curled tightly, framing her face beautifully. The girl sighed and turned around as the two men walked away from her. She seemed taken aback. “Dean.”

You recognized the fondness in her eyes; it was the same fondness you were beginning to look at Dean with. 

‘Of course, she’s fucking gorgeous. Wouldn’t expect anything else from Dean,’ you thought.

“Hey, Cassie,” Dean grinned. The two stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat. “This is my brother, Sam, and this is my friend, (Y/N).”

You tried your best to smile at her; the girl had done nothing wrong. It was Dean you were beginning to get upset with.

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” Dean said.

“Yeah. Me too,” Cassie muttered.

The two kept staring at each other. 

You cleared your throat awkwardly, and Cassie seemed to snap out of it. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Let’s take this somewhere a bit more… private.”

***

Cassie took you back to her home and brought you a tray of tea and cups. “My mother’s in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

She gracefully poured some tea into a cup. “He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“Like what?”

“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” the young woman explained.

“A truck. Who was the driver?” Sam questioned.

Cassie handed cups of tea to each of you. You took one, thanking her as you did so. “He didn't talk about a driver,” she continued. “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”

“Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?”

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car… leading right to the edge, where he went over.” The girl took a second to get her emotions back under control. “One set of tracks. His.”

“The first was a friend of your fathers?” Dean had discarded his cup on a side table. The sight almost made you smile; you knew tea was a bit too fancy for him. 

“Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He 'lost control of his car.' “

“Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?”

Cassie shook her head.

“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“When you say it aloud like that…” Cassie breathed deeply. “Listen, I'm a little skeptical about this… ghost stuff… or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean huffed. “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”

‘Uh, oh,’ you thought, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“That was then.” Cassie and Dean stared at each other again. “I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you.”

A middle-aged woman entered the room. Cassie rushed to her. “Mom. Where have you been I was so…”

Cassie’s mom forced a smile. “I had no idea you’d invited friends over.”

“Mom, this is Dean, a… friend of mine from.... college. And his brother Sam and friend, (Y/N).”

“Well, I won't interrupt you.” Cassie’s mom went to leave the room.

“Mrs Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?” Dean stopped her.

The woman seemed slightly affronted. “I'm really not up for that right now.” She left the room, and Dean and Cassie continued to stare at each other.

***

The next day, Dean informed you of another killing that happened in a field beside the main road. Another one of Cassie’s father’s friends had been murdered. You met the beautiful woman who was bravely berating the mayor for not closing the main road; heavily suggesting there was a racist undertone behind the mayor’s motives. You admired the woman’s bravery, and wished you had those kinds of balls in certain situations. Had the circumstances been different, you probably would have been good friends with her.

You and the boys learned from a friend of the deceased that the town once was home to a family with an incredibly racist history. In fact, the big black truck the victims had described seeing was one that many black men disappeared in back in the 1960s. You and the boys walked away from the men you learned this information from and returned to the Impala.

“Truck,” Dean noted.

“Keeps coming up doesn't it?” Sam added.

“Yeah, kinda like the flying dutchman,” you continued.

“Yeah, that ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him,” the younger Winchester finished.

Dean nodded. “So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have all been black men,” noted Sam.

“I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family,” Dean suggested.

“Alright, well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I will.”

Sam stopped his brother before he could get down into the car. “Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing.”

‘Stop talking, Sam,’ you mentally pleaded.

“What other thing?” Dean asked.

“The serious, unfinished business?”

The older brother remained silent, and for that, you were thankful.

“Dean, what is going on between you two?” Sam huffed out a laugh.

Dean seemed uncomfortable, as were you. “Alright, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said.”

“Really?” you said, unable to help yourself.

“Okay, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have.”

“Ah, look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”

The younger brother smiled. 

“Would you stop!”

Sam just kept staring and smiling.

“Blink or something!”

The brunet simply said, “You loved her.”

You nearly choked on your own spit as Dean grumbled and turned to the Impala.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her.” Sam paused a moment before realizing, “Oh, wow. She dumped you.”

“Get in the car. Get in the car!” Dean ordered you and Sam.

You refused to continue to let Dean have that effect on you. There was no room for feelings in this profession, and you would not let them get in the way of your friendship with Dean or Sam. The former dropped you and his brother off at the motel before speeding away to Cassie’s house. You and Sam decided to get takeout and have a carpet picnic in the brothers’ motel room.

You chowed down on fried rice while Sam eyed you curiously. “What?” you asked through a mouthful of rice.

“Nothing. You just seem off,” he replied.

“I don’t know, honestly. After… everything that’s happened, I—” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Nevermind. What’s your thoughts on this case?”

He gave you a bitchface at your change in the subject, but went along with it nonetheless. “I think our theory about the flying dutchman’s right. I’m just waiting for Dean to fill in the missing pieces.” He paused before continuing. “Speaking of which, I don’t think he’ll be back for the night? You wanna crash here?”

You smiled. “Sure. Wanna get some cheap tequila and ride the bus?” 

“You’re on,” he grinned back.

The two of you played with your deck of cards for a bit, joking and laughing about previous hunts and memories from Sam’s school days. After getting thoroughly hammered from your card game, you just talked for hours.

“My parents weren’t always… crazy supportive of me,” you explained. “I get your whole thing with college, though.” 

“You do?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “I wanted to go to school as a teenager, actually. Was dead set on it.”

He grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah, but after my parents passed, I decided I’m better at hunting,” you replied, flopping back on the ground. “You’re hella argumentative. You’d be an exceptional lawyer.”

He chuckled at you, slurring his words together. “You really think so?”

“Yeah! Duh!”

“You’re not ever this giddy, (Y/N), how much did we drink?”

The two of you looked over at the mostly empty bottle of tequila before exploding into a fit of giggles. 

“I don’t think I’ve been this drunk ever,” you slurred.

“Yeah, ne meither,” Sam said simply.

You burst out laughing again. “Ne meither?!”

“Oops,” he giggled boyishly.

“Wait, wait, wait. I have a question. You went to school with a full ride, right? How’d you get a full ride and hunt at the same time? That’s fucking crazy.”

He nodded. “Yeah. My dad took me on hunts every once in a while between AP Bio tests.”

“Holy shit, you’re smart.”

He sighed. “Not as smart as you’d think.”

“Cut the humble crap, you’re crazy smart,” you replied, turning to him. “You give me a run for my money sometimes. Trust me, that’s rare.”

He shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”

“Seriously, dude. You gotta be crazy gifted. You’re a great hunter and really smart. That’s a wild combination.”

“Yeah, well, so are you,” Sam replied. 

You grinned, barely holding your eyes open. “Thanks.” You paused a moment. “You ever smoked weed?”

He snorted. “Of course.”

You mock-gasped. “Sammy, never thought you were the type!”

“Pfft, I’m not a total prude, (Y/N).”

“Well, forgive me, you don’t exactly scream ‘I chase my tequila with mary jane,’ “ you jested.

“College, man. Whole new world.”

“What was it like?” you asked.

“Meh,” he squeaked, voice breaking drunkenly. “Lots of studying. Jess was the one who got me into partying a little.”

“Yeahhh, Jess!” you cheered. “She sounds cool as fuck.”

“She was.” He suddenly got sad and sniffed a little.

You crawled over to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring bad shit up for you.”

He sniffed again and shrugged. “‘S okay, I jus’ miss her.”

“I know.” You laid your head on his shoulder and let him cry as the two of you sat next to each other in silence.

***

The next morning and thoroughly hungover, you and Sam headed to yet another field; where this time, the mayor’s car had been found. And it was in a different location than the main road. Dean met you a short time later once you’d finished talking to a cop on the scene. 

“Where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the hotel,” Sam questioned, although the subtle smirk on his face told you he already knew the answer.

“Well…”

Sam grinned smugly. “I'm guessing you guys worked things out?”

“We'll be working things out when we're ninety. So what happened?”

“We got really drunk,” you muttered.

“What?” Dean looked down at you. 

Sam shook his head. “Every bone crushed. Internal organ's turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over.”

“Something like a truck?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded and explained there had been no tracks. He went on to say that the mayor had bought the property he was murdered on a few weeks ago; which was odd given he was white and found off the main road.

Cassie and Dean were considerably more chummy after their eventful evening, and it made your stomach turn a little. He insisted on being dropped off at the newspaper office Cassie worked at while you and Sam did research on the property the mayor had purchased at the library.

You discovered the mayor’s land was where the Dorian family had lived for over one hundred years. Apparently, their incredibly racist and firebrand son had disappeared just after the string of murders back in the 1960s. Cassie explained how the Dorians owned pretty much everything in the town before Cyrus, their son, disappeared. Weeks after the mayor bought the property, he knocked the house down. The very next day, the first killing started.

***

Amidst your throbbing headache and the research you'd done, you parted ways with the brothers to rest in your motel room. You settled on reorganizing your duffel bag to keep your mind occupied, but it still wandered to Dean and Cassie. You knew you'd been cold to Dean all day, and you just hoped he was too preoccupied with his fling to even notice.

Of course, that was simply wishful thinking. A knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts.

Dean opened the door a moment later and stepped into your room wordlessly. He began to pace a little.

"Are... you okay—?" you started to ask, but he cut you off.

"What's your deal?"

"What?" you pretended to be dumbfounded.

"I caught what you said about getting drunk with Sam last night. Did you... fuck my brother?" he asked, voice teetering on rageful.

"God, no, Winchester," you scoffed. "Not everyone's intentions are sexual 24/7. We literally just played a drinking game and talked."

"Then, what's with your fucking attitude? You've been a bitch to me all day," he replied, shoulders tense.

"Have not, first of all," you began. "Trust me, if I was upset with you, you'd know about it."

"What, then? Is this about Cassie?" he questioned pointedly, staring you down.

"Dean, has it occured to you that not everything has to do with you?" you spat, becoming incredibly defensive. "I'm pissy because I'm hungover. And right now, you are making my headache a thousand times worse."

"Sorry that I was concerned about you, then," he responded flippantly.

"You weren't concerned," you laughed coldly. "You came here looking for a fight. Well, now you've got one. I like Cassie a lot, actually. Different circumstances, we'd be good friends. What I don't like is how unprofessionally you're acting."

"We fucking hunt monsters for a living, (Y/N)," Dean argued. "There's not exactly a code of ethics."

"Well, you should have some desire to conduct yourself in a professional manner. Because your main motivation on every fucking hunt doesn't seem to be hunting, it seems to be getting your dick wet," you berated, even though you knew your words were not reflective of your true thoughts of him.

"Sorry that I'm not a stuck-up bitch like you are," Dean scoffed. "You are completely miserable to be around. You always have something to be angry about. Don't you ever get tired of sucking the life outta everyone?"

You cut your eyes at him harshly, rage boiling under your skin. "Get the fuck out of my room, Winchester," you said evenly.

When he didn't move, it just added to your anger.

"I said get the fuck out!"

***

You and the Winchesters were called to Cassie’s house later that evening when she’d called Dean in a panic about the truck appearing outside of her home. You hated the way Dean sat with his arm protectively around Cassie, especially after your incredibly awkward car ride to her house where he couldn't seem to bare looking at you. He acted like you weren't in the backseat at all.

You handed Cassie a cup of tea, which she took with shaky hands. “Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that.”

You snorted. “You didn’t see who was driving the truck?”

“It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?” Cassie questioned.

“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean grumbled. 

Sam turned to Cassie’s mother. “Mrs Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.”

The older woman was shaking, pulled away from reality into her own thoughts. When her daughter’s voice brought her back to earth, Mrs. Robinson began to explain. “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing.”

“Well, after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Okay? Your daughter could die.” You knew Dean cared about her, and selfishly, you wanted him to be that worried about you; not her. “So if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”

Cassie went to silence Dean, but Mrs. Robinson took in a shaky breath. “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who it belonged to?” you asked her.

“He thought he did,” she nodded. She began to get upset. “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

“Cyrus Dorian?” you questioned.

“Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”

Now, you had her. “The paper said he went missing, Mrs. Robinson. How do you know he died?”

She refused to answer.

“Mrs. Robinson, please,” you urged.

She began to talk again, getting visibly more upset. “We were all very young. I dated Cyrus a while; I was also seeing Martin. In secret of course. Interracial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin, I don't know, he… changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”

“The murders,” Sam noted.

You saw tears forming at the edges of the woman’s eyes. “There were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and a... Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention.”

“And Cyrus?” Dean prompted.

“The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died.” Mrs. Robinson clapped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes.

“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asked softly.

She shook her head as she continued to sob. “No! There was one more. One night, that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn't you call the cops?” Dean questioned.

Mrs. Robinson looked at Dean like he was crazy. “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body into the truck, and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land, and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam said.

“And so is Mayor Todd. Now, he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?” Dean asked.

“He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he— he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

Cassie spoke up for the first time in a while. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I thought I was protecting them. And now there's no one left to protect.” She put her head down in her hands.

“Yes, there is,” Dean said, looking down at Cassie. Mrs. Robinson looked at her daughter as well before breaking down crying once more.

You and Sam left the home shortly after to get to work on finding the truck and disposing of it. Dean paced in front of you, waiting for Cassie to come bid you goodbye. You leaned against the Impala, picking at imaginary dirt under your nails. You just needed something to focus on that wasn’t Dean and your jealousy.

“Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms,” Sam spoke up next to you.

“So I guess we saved you from a boring existence,” Dean smirked.

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring,” he grinned down at you.

“So, this killer truck—” Dean began before getting cut off by his brother.

“I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck'.”

Dean laughed a little. “Well, this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for forty years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam questioned.

“The construction on his house,” you shrugged. “Or, rather, destruction.”

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless.”

Dean hummed. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved.”

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam nodded.

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway.”

“You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?"

Dean grinned, and you smirked despite the swirling emotions inside you. You hated how easily those green eyes and freckles could make any negative feelings you had dissipate.

“Man,” Sam groaned.

“You said it,” Dean continued to grin. 

Cassie approached your group from her house, and Dean turned to face her.

“Hey. She's asleep. Now what?” she asked Dean.

“Well, you should stay put and look after her, and we'll be back. Don't leave the house.” Dean held up a finger at her, standing way too close to her for your liking.

“Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it,” she said seductively.

Dean glanced behind himself to you and Sam. You both averted your eyes while you held back the bile rising in your throat.

“Don't leave the house, please?” Dean mumbled. Suddenly, the two were kissing. You looked up at them and leaned over to Sam.

“It’s like watching a car crash,” you whispered. “With, like, kids burning in the backseat.”

Sam laughed at you and cleared his throat. Dean simply held up a finger back to you, urging you to “wait a minute.”

“You comin' or what?” Dean awkwardly rubbed his neck after he pulled away from Cassie, and you envied her ability to make Dean blush the way she had.

The drive to the Dorian property largely consisted of Sam teasing Dean about Cassie while you said nothing. Dean used a tractor that was on the property from the construction to pull the submerged truck out of the water.

Sam continued to tease Dean about how he was definitely still in love with Cassie while you continued to focus on your work. You doused the corpse in Cyrus’s truck once you’d gotten it on the ground with kerosene and watched as it burned.

“All business tonight, huh, (Y/N)?” Dean taunted, still clearly upset with you.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not particularly interested in who or what you choose to put your dick in,” you responded coldly.

“Hey!—” 

You turned to him, eyes hard. “Seriously. Let’s focus, please.”

Sam eyed you curiously while you continued to watch the corpse burn. Suddenly, the truck appeared behind you and the brothers, revving its engine.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” Sam questioned, panicked.

“I guess not,” you shrugged.

“Sure it did. Now it's really pissed,” Dean snarked.

“Great! He’s fused with the fucking truck,” you huffed. “Where are you going?” Dean was retreating to his car.

“Goin' for a little ride,” he responded.

“What?!”

“Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap: you gotta burn it.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” you argued.

“I don't know. Figure something out.” He threw the duffel bag in the trunk at you before getting in and taking off.

“What the f—” you watched his retreating form.

“You sure you’re okay, (Y/N/N)?” Sam asked you. “You seem pretty on edge.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, dude, let’s focus.” You thought for a moment before getting an idea. 

“Hey, you gotta give me a minute,” Sam said to his brother who had called him. “Let me get back to you.” He hung up.

You turned to Sam. “The church where Cyrus butchered those kids.”

He grinned. “Hallowed ground. That should work!” He called Cassie and had her tell him where the church had once stood.

Sam then called his panicking brother back and instructed him on exactly how far to drive to hopefully demolish the ghost. “Dean. You still there? Dean?”

He breathed a sigh of relief when his brother spoke to him again. “Dean, you're where the church was. The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids. Church ground is hallowed ground; whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed, so we figured, maybe that would get rid of it.”

Even though he wasn’t on speaker, you could hear Dean’s panic. “Maybe? Maybe! What if you were wrong?”

Sam smirked. “Huh. Honestly that thought hadn't occurred to me.”

***

You didn't make it back to the motel until almost two in the morning. Dean was still completely ignoring your existence, and he was beginning to follow Sam into their room. You stopped him just before he could.

"Dean, wait," you called out after him, resolve breaking.

"What," he almost growled, turning back to you.

"Can we talk?" you asked, eyes pleading.

Dean didn't say anything in response for a moment, and you held your breath while you waited for him to talk. Finally, he nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry," you said earnestly. "For everything that I said earlier."

He nodded. "I am, too. You're not completely misreable to be around. Only sometimes when you get bitchy." You could see the slight smirk on his face illuminated by the moonlight.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile. "You can never take anhthing seriously, huh?"

"Hey, this is a chick-flick-moment-free zone."

"Seriously," you laughed, "I didn't mean what I said at all. You're... actually amazing. As a hunter, I mean," you quickly corrected yourself. "I know your first priority on hunts isn't sex."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Eh, you weren't one-hundred-percent wrong. Sorry about that."

You shrugged. "Makes no difference to me. Who or what you choose to fornicate with is your business. Even if it is the Magic Fingers machines at those nasty ass motels." A smile tugged on your lips.

He chuckled. "Well, anyway... goodnight, sweetheart." Dean turned on his heel and walked away from you, leaving you in the parking lot with a pounding heart and butterfly-filled stomach.

***

The next day, you and the brothers were leaving town. You and Sam waited in the car while Dean stood talking to Cassie. You, once again, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the horror show in front of you. He kissed her deeply before climbing down into the car. You had never been so thankful to leave a town in your rearview mirror.

The car had been mostly silent for the last thirty minutes before Sam broke it. “I like her.”

Dean grumbled, “Yeah,” in response.

“You meet someone like her, doesn't it makes you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?”

You watched Dean with bated breath, waiting anxiously for his answer. Instead of replying, he just took out his sunglasses and smiled. “Why don't you wake me up when it's my turn to drive?” He slouched against the window and sighed.

You shook your head and looked back out of your window, mulling over everything you’d felt during your time in Columbus. You knew feelings were not allowed in your line of work; certainly not relationships. You refused to let them interfere with your job any longer, and convinced yourself you would be perfectly content with Dean just being your friend.

After all, you'd already made it incredibly apparent that he was too much of a playboy for you. You would never be able to stomach a relationship with him because of how jealous of a person you were. And so, you decided that as long as you were with the boys, you would never, ever date Dean Winchester.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog

quite a few tags are broken :( sorry lovebugs!!

[bwabys-scenarios]

Fixer Upper

Part 33

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

pt 32

pt 34

warnings: spoilers for the chimera ant arc, violence

A/N: I was going to stop posting Fixer Upper here, but I wanted to just experiment and see if it will do well. If not it’s going to stay on AO3, so COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LOVE THIS SERIES!

taglist: @tsukilover11 @ashdownunderscorebeloved @sweetstraberrybear @superweeniehutjrsblog @bugmomwrites @heartsforseo @lixiawinter @altaircc @itszenava @fiightforlovee @mimi-sanisanidiot @wow-im-gay @whorermoviestar @lightshowerrr @mama-m1na @nenggie @wicked-binch @jamayah

‼️please have your age in bio and make sure you can be mentioned/tagged before asking to be in the taglist‼️

(Name) collapsed from exhaustion as the timer hit zero. She had finally managed to maintain ren for three hours, her body at its limit.

“Alright, you can go rest now. Once you’ve slept for a few hours, come back and do it again.”

She nodded, barely able to pick herself up and shuffle to her room. It was dark out, the boys had already left to challenge knuckle, and she was glad Bisky understood her limits.

If (Name) was forced to go fight knuckle after maintaining ren for that long, she would pass out before reaching the park.

‘Ugh…’

Lifting a spoonful of soup to her lips, (Name) ate, wincing at the temperature. It wasn’t hot enough to burn her mouth, but warm enough to be uncomfortable.

Bisky might be a bit less hard on her, but the training was still excruciating, and sometimes she just wanted to give up. When (Name) thought about quitting, the image of Kite’s severed arm flying through the air appeared in her mind, strengthening her resolve.

‘We have to save him… if… he’s still alive, that is.’

Taking another bite, she peered outside the window, staring at the full moon. Part of her wondered just exactly how she wandered up here, training until she nearly passed out and only getting a few hours of sleep between sessions.

Maybe if her parents had been better, if she hadn’t taken the Hunter exam, or maybe if Kurapika had chosen her instead of his revenge, she wouldn’t have to suffer like this.

She paused, shaking her head. ‘That’s selfish… why would I think something like that? Kurapika’s revenge is important to him… I just… wasn’t enough to try and balance friendship and his responsibilities to his clan…’

Her heart hurt, especially when she thought about him abandoning her so easily, as if the time they spent together meant nothing to him. All this time she had been making excuses, trying to tell herself that it was just how life was, but while she was exhausted and frustrated, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of hatred in her heart for him leaving her.

(Name) loved him dearly, saw him as her dearest friend and someone she wanted to be with one day… it made her upset to imagine him seeing her as nothing but someone to pass time with. Maybe that was all she had been, someone that would comfort him and be a shoudler to cry on until he didn’t need it anymore.

Until his heart hardened enough to where comfort wasn’t necessary.

(Name) played with her hair, plopping down on her bed after quickly washing her face and doing her night time routine.

‘I better sleep, Bisky won’t let me rest anymore than a few hours…’

She didn’t want to go to sleep feeling hateful, so (Name) closed her eyes and imagined him holding her close, kissing her head when she thought she was asleep.

It made her feel warm and fuzzy, her cheeks growing hot. One day, she wanted to get that Kurapika back.

Her Pika, not the Kurapika he had become.

——————

(Name) woke up when the sun barely began to peek through the window, shielding her eyes from the light. She then raised both of her arms to shield herself when she was hit again with a pillow, the real reason she had woken up.

“Get up, (Name). Gon and I are going to sleep, but Bisky wants you to go train.”

She whined softly, opening her eyes to see Killua hovering over her, holding a pillow and ready to strike again.

“Killua..? What time is-“

He brought down the pillow again, making her yelp. “H-hey, stop that, I’m up, I’m up!”

As she sat up, Killua huffed. “Finally, I’ve been trying to get you to wake up for 10 minutes.”

(Name) stood, rubbing her eyes before peering out the window. “What time is it? The sun’s barely out…”

“I don’t know… like 6 am? I wasn’t paying attention. Bisky kept throwing things at us.”

She shuffled across the room, opening her closet. “Alright, tell her I’ll be out in a second. Gotta change…”

Killua shrugged and left, leaving her alone to get dressed.

After putting on a simple, airy summer dress, (Name) made her way downstairs. Bisky was perched on a stool, looking at a… suspicious magazine. The front cover had a half naked man on the front, making (Name) raise an eyebrow, but she stayed silent.

“I see you’re up. Start ren.”

“Ren? But I haven’t had breakfast-“

“I’m not repeating myself.”

She tried not to groan, getting into position before starting ren.

Not only did she want to save Kite… but she was getting pretty freaked out by Palm’s ominous warnings.

‘I have to try harder…’

———————

“Ugh…”

(Name) walked on wobbly legs down the street. Her body was exhausted and she felt like she would pass out at any moment.

Between training with Bisky then eating and sleeping, she had little time for herself. So when she was given an hour of free time, she nearly ran to the park.

Well… (Name) couldn’t really run right now persay, but she moved as fast as possible for her exhausted body.

She nearly collapsed on the bench, taking out her phone to scroll mindlessly through social media while snacking.

A smile stretched across her face when she saw a picture of Leorio in his new scrubs, her eyes lighting up when she noticed he was holding a picture of their group.

She liked it before scrolling, nearly jumping out of her skin when someone cleared their throat in front of her.

It was that guy with the pompadour again!

“Uh… hello. You’re Knuckle, right?”

He nodded, narrowing his eyes at her. “And you’re friends with the two boys I’m fighting against,”

She blinked in confusion, tilting her head. “I- how did you-“

“Yesterday I fought against them and came back the their hotel room. You were asleep on the couch.”

(Name)’s cheeks heated up, and she scratched the back of her head sheepishly. “Ah, yeah… I was tired from training.”

Knuckle looked her up and down, frowning. “From what they said, you’re the one that’s going with the winners, right?”

She set aside her snack, turning off her phone. “Apparently, yeah. I’m not quite sure why Chairman Netero chose me, but I’m going anyways so I’m here to support Gon and Killua as much as I can.”

The man nodded, crossing his arms. “And how has that been going so far?”

A frown appeared on her face. In her mind, she hadn’t really done much of use. Despite being several years older than Gon and Killua, she was nowhere near their strength and amount of determination. All (Name) wanted to do was help her friends… and keep Kurapika out of her mind.

“Honestly? Not great. I feel so weak and helpless, and I think I’ll be more of a burden to the team if I’m the one that goes to NGL again. I don’t know why the chairman said I’m going for sure instead of Gon and Killua. They both have so much more skill and experience than I do in battle.”

“But are they as experienced in life as you?”

This made her pause, her eyes flicking up to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He shifted his weight, letting out a grunt. “Those boys may be strong, but they’ve had strength their whole lives. Neither of them truly knows what it means to be utterly weak and defenseless… but you do. You can better understand the battlefield from a different point of view.”

This was something she hadn’t considered. Knuckle offered her a hand, a smile on his face. “If strength is something you want, I can help.”

(Name) hesitantly took his hand, and the two wandered off to begin training.

——————

Kurapika scrolled through his old messages with (Name), laughing to himself at some silly pictures. It had been a rough day with missions going wrong and lots of whining from Neon, so he allowed himself a few minutes of rest.

And he couldn’t help but take out his phone and scroll to her blocked number.

His soft brown eyes took in her sweet smile and read through her jokes and kind words. He got so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed Melody calling for him until she was looking over his shoulder.

“Oh, is that (Name)?”

Kurapika jumped, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the floor. He scrambled to pick it up, but Melody got there before he did. On the screen was a picture of (Name) in a bathing suit eating ice cream.

“Oh…”

Melody cleared her throat and handed the phone back to him, clearly a bit flustered and uncomfortable. “Apologies, I should have knocked. You’re a teenager, I didn’t even think that you’d be uh… looking at things like this.”

Kurapika nearly died on the spot, his face going red. “N-no, it’s not what it looks like! I was… just looking at old pictures we sent to each other.”

Melody paused, hearing a sorrowful song being sung by his heart. She let out a sigh, turning back towards him.

Although she wanted him and (Name) to reconcile, she could tell that him lingering on her memory while keeping distant was only hurting him.

“Don’t you think it’s… best to leave it alone? I’m not sure it’s fair to either of you if you’re going to act like this.”

His eyes turned scarlet, and he shoved his phone into his pocket before standing. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Melody.”

“I think it is when you’ve been getting sloppy during missions, Kurapika! You get drunk at night then wake up so hungover you can barely work. How is that fair to the other body guards? Either work this out or…”

She stopped, placing a hand to her temple. “Either go back to her or don’t. If you’re going to break off the friendship, then you can’t be wishy-washy like this. It’s not healthy.”

Kurapika settled back into his chair as she left, staring down at his phone screen. Tears pooled in the corner of his eyes before he swiped them away.

His finger hovered over the delete button… and he clicked it over and over, getting rid of most of their messages and memories.

——————-

“Concentrate, (Name). If you can’t hit me, you won’t get any stronger.”

Sweat pooled down her forehead, her shirt soaked. It had been nearly two hours since (Name) began training with Knuckle, and he had only landed a single hit on him the whole time. His ability was annoying, but it was good practice sparring with him.

“Come on, just one more punch and you’ll get a break. Try again.”

She bit her lip, trying to focus and keep calm as he stood before her. Knuckle hadn’t been going easy on (Name), she had specifically asked him to fight her seriously… but god was she exhausted and ready for a break.

All of her nen focused into her fists, surprising him. She wasn’t one to be so reckless… Perhaps this could be a good development.

She sped up the very air around her fists, causing it to get hot enough to have him wincing when she thrust her fist forward.

Indirectly, she had hit him with an attack.

“That was… smart.”

He sat down, passing her a bottle of water, which she downed almost immediately. After collapsing on the grass, she caught her breath before speaking.

“Do you… think I’m getting any stronger? There’s only one more day until I leave for NGL…”

Knuckle waited until she had calmed down before he spoke. “I think you are stronger than you were a week ago.”

She blinked, then smiled, a big genuine smile. Before he could even react, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks for this, Knuckle. I really appreciate it.”

The man was left a stuttering mess as (Name) stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I’ve got to get back home and start training with Bisky… that woman won’t tolerate any lateness.”

With a wave, (Name) ran off.

That night, she sat up in bed when she heard the alarm for the boys 3 hour ren training going off.

Opening the door, she peeked out to see Gon and Killua looking quite serious… though they were both grinning ear to ear.

“Are you boys going out again?”

Gon turned, giving her a smile. “Yep, today we’re going to fight him for real!”

(Name) rubbed her eyes as she walked in, still in her pajamas. “I see… I think you’ll do well, and I wish you the best.”

The two were pulled into her arms, a kiss placed on both of their heads. “Just… know that you’re both very strong and smart boys, sometimes… Even though you try your hardest, you can still fail. That’s life.”

Killua frowned, his head rested on her chest as Gon looked up at her. “We’re going to do it, (Name)! We’ll give it our all!”

She giggled, ruffling his hair. “I know you will. Now-“

The sound of paper tearing made them all jump. Palm was scribbling something terrifying onto paper, muttering something barely legible under her breath.

‘Yikes, I’m just glad I won’t be here tomorrow.’

————————

(Name) woke up in the morning, whining softly as she turned. It was Killua again… except this time, he looked devoid of hope.

She was instantly wide awake, throwing back her blanket so she could pull him into her arms. “Killua, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Are you okay?”

He sighed, letting her coddle him for a moment. It felt nice, after how awful his night had been.

“We… didn’t win.”

(Name) had expected as much. Killua and Gon waste my weak by any standard, but at the moment Knuckle was leagues ahead of them. From pure battleground experience alone, he had the advantage.

“I couldn’t fight… I kept…”

Killua choked up, clutching her sleeve. “I kept hearing my older brother’s warning… he always told me to never fight someone if I wasn’t sure I could win… how can I be friends with Gon if I can’t fight by his side!?”

She held him as he cried tears of frustration. He was so angry with himself for being weak, for being afraid.

“Killua, baby…”

There wasn’t much she could say or do, so she quietly pushed back his hair and kissed his forehead. “Maybe you should think about it for a while, sweetheart. Do you think Gon thinks the same way you do?”

Killua was silent, and she wasn’t even sure he heard her. The two stayed like that for a few minutes before he wiped his tears. “… Knuckle and Shoot said you need to be packed up by 3 pm. You’re leaving with them then.”

There was a look of hesitance on his face, and he gripped her sleeve tighter. “Are… you sure you want to go? It’s going to be dangerous, (Name).”

“I know, and I’m sure.”

She stood up, walking over to her dresser. “I’m going to pack, you can stay in here if you want.”

And he did.

(Name) stretched after stepping out of the van, leaning her head against Knuckle. It was strange, he seemed so fidgety after their training the day before.

“Knuckle.”

“Hmm?”

Gon stood before him, Knuckle’s nen technique still clinging to his shoulder from their fight. “Promise me… you have to save Kite!”

“Got it. I promise I’ll bring him back. I swear on this token.”

(Name) gave them both a hopeful, nervous smile, waving as she left. The two watched her go, both trying their best to stay strong.

———————

(Name) walked into NGL, wearing the clothes she had during her previous trip. Almost immediately she was pulled into a hole, yelping and falling onto her butt.

“Eek!”

Knuckle and Shoot landed across from her on their feet, getting into a fighting stance immediately. Knov and Morel stood before them, both of their gazes on (Name).

“We were told you have healing abilities, yes?”

(Name) was escorted to the chimera ant colony, where she was brought into the queen’s room. The ground was crunchy underneath her shoes, and the air was thick with tension.

There were doctors already working on her, and (Name) could tell that the creature was far past any saving.

“Hello…”

She knelt beside the queen, looking over her wounds. The doctor to her left spoke.

“Several organs have been damaged beyond repair, and she’s lost a lot of blood.”

(Name) frowned, looking over her body. “I’m… not sure I can do anything. If she had a missing limb or large cut, I could accelerate her atoms to heal faster. My ability speeds up time, if her organs are damaged or gone, all my ability will do is kill her faster, not heal her.”

The heart monitor started to slow, and the ant queen reached out her hand. She was trying to speak.

“Please! Please, you have to do something!”

A chimera ant named Colt grabbed her shoulders. “Anything, please!”

(Name) bit her lip, reaching out her hand. She tried to remember how it felt when Kurapika snapped at her… how time seemed to slow down and stretch forever.

Knov and Morel stared on in awe and disbelief, watching as the ant queen’s heart monitor slowed.

“I’ve stalled her organs failing… please, let her speak.”

‘She… slowed down time? Even for just a localized area, that’s an incredible feat!’ Morel thought, peeking over (Name)’s shoulder.

(Name) didn’t hear a single thing the queen said, all of her energy was spent on stalling just a little longer, keeping time still.

“She’s gone…”

With those words, (Name) collapsed covered in sweat. Shoot was closest, catching her before she hit her head.

——————

(Name) woke up in a feverish haze, her body feeling heavy and way too hot. As her eyes struggled to open, she heard something faint and distant.

Someone was speaking to her, trying to get her attention.

“(Name)..?”

As the fuzziness in her eyes began to fade a bit, she was finally able to focus on the figure sitting next to her bed.

“Ch… chairman… Netero..?”

The man before her had a calm look on his face, leaning back in his chair before speaking. “You’re awake. It’s been four days since you temporarily stopped time.”

“Four days!?”

She jolted up, nearly vomiting after the sudden movement jostled her.

“Easy there. Lay back down, there’s no need to rush. We need you to recover as quickly as possible, and that can’t happen if you’re trying to rush things.”

(Name) blinked her bleary eyes, settling back down and putting her head over her forehead. “You need me..? Why? I did one thing and now I’ve been out of commission for days.”

“You stopped time, (Name). That can be very useful to us.”

She huffed, looking around the room before her eyes settled on a glass of water. “I only slowed down time temporarily for a localized area. It's not enough to help anyone, much less-“

He handed her the cup of water.

“You kept the ant queen alive long enough for her to tell the others the King’s name. That’s crucial information tha can be used as a bargaining chip. It seems you don’t understand the potential you have and the impact your powers can have on the future.”

Netero watched her drink, sighing. “Slowing down time is something impossible, I’m not even sure how you were able to do it. When creating something with nen or performing an ability, it has to have some basis in reality.”

“Well…”

(Name) set the glass beside her, wiping the leftover water from her mouth. “All I did was imagine a moment where time seemed to slow down for me, and-“

“And you transferred that ability into nen! My girl, you’re quite clever, aren’t you?”

For the first time, Netero seemed genuinely impressed. He stood, walking over to a table and picking something up.

“Here, it’s your bag. I’m sure Gon and Killua will want to know what’s happening.”

He turned and walked towards the door.

“An enhancer will be coming by in an hour or so to help with the healing process. You should be good as new within a day or so.”

He paused, turning to look at her. “And make sure you don’t tell anyone about your ability. There are many people that would kill to be able to stop time… even for just a moment.”

With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

—————-

(Name) winced as Gon jumped into her arms, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

“Hey, hey, I’m alright…”

She frowned, petting his hair. Gon was completely quiet, his face hidden in her shoulder as he clutched her tightly.

‘He’s already nervous about Kite, I’m sure knowing I was in the hospital scared him…’

Killua stood by her bedside, reaching out to hold onto her shirt. The way Killua showed how he worried for her was pretty cute.

“Chairman Netero said I’ll be fine. An enhancer came by and checked on me a minute ago.”

The two seemed to relax a bit, smiling as they not got comfortable in her hospital bed.

“Ahh, now it’s cramped.”

They watched tv for a bit, eating hospital food and laughing. “You both seem like you’re in a better mood!”

“Yeah, that’s because Knuckle said he found Kite!”

(Name)’s face lit up at Gon’s words, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait, seriously? That’s amazing!”

Killua looked out the window, his eyebrows furrowed.

‘Knuckle seemed troubled when he told us… something is up.’

But he stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin the good vibes. Gon had been training so hard to save Kite… and Killua really wanted to believe everything would be okay.

The three spent the next few days together, sharing their experiences. They were both shocked to learn about her new ability.

“YOU STOPPED TIME!?”

(Name) quickly covered his mouth, shushing him. “Shh, I'm not supposed to tell anyone! It’s dangerous information….”

“Then why the hell did you tell us!?”

She sighed, giving him a smile. “Because you two are my friends.”

Killua quieted at that, hugging to try and hide his embarrassment and happiness. “Yeah, yeah…”

Gon leaned her head on his shoulder, smiling. “You’re both my friends, and… I care a lot about you both!”

Killua threw a pillow at him, his cheeks pink. “Oh will you both stop it with the sappy stuff!?”

Gon and (Name) giggled at him, making Killua even more flustered.

(Name) wishes times like these could last forever… but that could never be. Something felt wrong, there was going to be more pain and heartbreak sooner than she wanted…

But there was nothing she could do for now, so she held onto them both, trying her best to be their rock as the days passed by.

—————

Walking down the dark stairway to meet Kite for the first time in months should have been exciting… but all the three felt as they were guided into uncertainty was a nervous, anxious feeling.

Not a single one of them thought everything was okay. Even Gon had a strange expression on his face, half way hopeful, half way dreading what was going to be behind the door.

She put her hand on his back, smiling softly before giving him his space.

If she could stop time right then, she would have done everything in her power to keep Gon from seeing Kite in his current state.

Covered in stitches, staggering and twitching like a zombie. He had been shrunken down by Shoot’s ability, but grew to his full size when let out of his cage.

(Name) tried to stay strong for the boys, but tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she gazed at the man she had admired.

She could tell just from a glance that he had no more life inside of him. He was just a walking corpse with no nen or voice. There was no more communicating with him, he couldn’t be fixed…

Yet Gon walked towards him, allowing himself to be punched as he said it was okay.

(Name) winced, covering her mouth as Gon attempted to speak with him. It was heartbreaking…

Killua couldn’t move, couldn’t say a single word. His eyes were transfixed, moving to follow every strike Kite landed on Gon.

He was finally able to speak, broken from his trance when (Name) reached out to hold his hand and squeeze it gently to comfort him.

The others spoke, but (Name) didn’t hear a thing. The only thing she was focused on was how she would try to heal Gon with her nen after this.

If he would even let her.

Killua helped her up the stairs as they left, letting her lean against him. She was still weak from her overexerting her nen output…

While they walked, Knuckle came up from behind, taking her other arm. “Here, let me help.”

Though Killua really disliked the fact Knuckle had gotten so friendly with (Name), he allowed him to help. He seemed to put (Name) at ease…

“Is… Gon going to be okay?”

The group was sitting in a cafe now, watching as (Name) joined them at the table. She smiled, but it was obvious she was forcing it. “Physically, he’s fine. I healed him up… but…”

Everyone knew what was going unsaid. Gon was in emotional turmoil, struggling to cope with the current situation.

“… there’s still a few weeks before his Nen will be restored.” Knuckle stated, sipping on his coffee. “I guess we’ll just have to watch over him until then.”

——————

On the surface, Gon seemed okay, but both Killua and (Name) knew him well enough to understand it was just a facade. He was storing up all of his anger and strength so he could face off against Pitou.

After a few weeks, the ant extermination group met up in a relatively crowded restaurant, (Name) sitting between Killua and Knuckle as they watched the TV over head.

“What is the agenda behind the sudden flurry of activity recently observed in East Gorteau? Supreme leader Diego has personally invited all citizens in the capital city Peijing to celebrate the nation’s birth in ten days.”

As the news anchors continued to speak, Morel scoffed. “Colt believes the celebration will be used as a screening.”

“We don’t know what they’ll do with those found to have nen, but 99% of the humans there will die. We must stop it before that happens. Our time limit is ten days.” Knov finished, addressing Gon and Killua.

“What’s the old man up to?”

“He sent an email saying that he’s already inside East Gorteau, but I haven’t heard from him since.” Knov replied to Killua.

“Do you think he’s already been taken out?”

“If he fails to contact us today, we’ve been told to assume as much.”

At that, Knov’s phone began to ring. (Name) but her lip, of course Chairman Netero would call right at that exact moment!

“Speak of the devil, it’s the chairman.”

“That old man’s got some sharp ears.”

“He already knows everything, including the fact that you boys and (Name) are here. And that Morel is badmouthing him.”

The text read as follows:

“Divide into pairs and draw the Royal guard away from the king. The night before the celebration, the operation will begin at midnight. (Name), do not use your nen again until then. From the sharp-eared old man.”

“That guy really scares me…”

(Name) laughed at Morel’s words, but in the back of her mind she wondered why she wouldn’t be able to use her nen until then… what did Netero have planned?

[orbitariums]

rum punch | patrick zweig x black fem reader

writing this because patrick is definitely the type to text you like “if you wanna pull up just to get fucked here’s the addy”

obsessed with this song right now (rump punch by cash cobain) and listened to it over and over while writing this. i recommend listening to compliment your reading experience 🙏🏾 it’s sooo challengers especially patrick zweig coded. let’s review: “top five nasty, you ain’t even gotta ask me” and “soon as you leave i miss u too, like damn”; “don’t be asking questions like a interview cuz you really know what we finna do”...  “i just made her cum twice you ain’t make her cum once”?!!>!##? that’s patrick DOWN. sorry it must be said… 

so a little drabble-ish thing is ahead! contains: cheating (ooops), degradation, smut

it started when you started dating your current boyfriend, or at least that’s what you would tell yourselves to make you feel better about the whole ordeal — not that patrick cared much to begin with. but anybody who knew you and patrick knew that this had been going on for far longer than either of you would care to admit, or that either of you had enough introspective ability to even realize. every single playful shove, every time you squeezed his hand to deflect from parting at the end of a hangout, the way he’d stack his legs on top of yours while you were studying even though he knew you “hated” it, his thumb circling your hand, your head on his shoulder during a late night movie sesh with art and tashi, eyes fluttering closed until you found sleepy heaven in the perfect crevice of his neck. nearly every time you saw each other, which was frequent, you were touching without touching. art, who wasn’t one to make crass comments often, would always tell patrick: “it wouldn’t even make a difference, you should just go ahead and fuck each other. the shit you two do is more than just sex.”

it was 11:16 pm when you called him. your boyfriend had sped off in the middle of the night in a fit of anger after an intense argument about the same thing for the hundredth time. you were so tired. you’d been so close to texting or calling him before, but you refrained — you didn’t want things between the two of you to get messy when nothing in your life was going right in the first place. but now that you were nearly slumped against the wall with tears hot against your face, so tired beyond comprehension, you could blame it on the delirium brought on by exhaustion. you told yourself you just needed the comfort of your close friend, who always made you laugh.

“patrick, can i come over?” you’d asked, your voice trembling, your face buried in your sweater sleeve. 

patrick had never heard you sound so upset — he’d never even seen you cry. when you were around him, you were always so jovial and giggly. so when he heard your voice on the phone, so late at night, sounding so fragile and fractured, his eyebrows immediately knit together with concern, and he sat up on his couch. 

“yn, are you okay? is everything alright, you sound—”

“i’m fine,” you sniffled, breath catching on your voice multiple times. “just-just need a friend. please, can i come over?”

you couldn’t see it, but his features softened, and some wedge in his heart seemed to shift over,

“yeah. yeah, of course you can.”

he was so confused, but just glad to know that you were at least okay, taking pride in the fact that he was who you wanted to be around, whatever was going on. he made some rushed efforts to tidy up his bachelor apartment, sweeping crumbs under the rug, tucking in pillows on the couch, throwing yesterday’s takeout into the overflowing trashcan, and swiping the trash off his coffee table. 

he couldn’t believe how shrunken you looked when you appeared in front of his door that night, clad in an oversized stanford hoodie and sweatpants, slippers, tears still welling up in your eyes. this couldn’t be the same yn pushing him off of her with excessive force and maniacally cackling at his stupid jokes. 

“wh-”

before he could get a word out, you threw your arms around your waist, plopping your head down on his chest. he stilled for a moment out of shock, then relaxed into your touch, embracing you with his arms around your shoulders and down your back, holding you because he knew that’s what you needed right now. 

and then you were pulling away, sniffling and wiping away your tears, finally feeling some ounce of comfort now that you were with him. you knew, you knew, this was what you needed, as much as you had resisted this very thing. 

“it’s chris,” you said, moving past him and inside his apartment, groaning as you plunked down onto the couch. 

now, looking out the open door at the hallway ahead of him, patrick was nodding to himself silently, like he had come to some realization. he sat beside you, and you turned to him with a pout. and it was then that patrick knew he was not a good man for thinking about how pretty you looked with tears streaking your face and your lips pressed together in a girlish pout. 

“he’s like… intimidated by me or something. every single thing i tell him about my day, about work, about my friends, my wins… he’s always finding some thing to harp on like i’m some villain stopping him from achieving his finance bro dreams. he hates that i’m living my life because he isn’t living his yet. so every thing i earn, he just picks it apart and tears it down, questions my motives for everything.”

“he’s a dick, alright?” patrick said, in that ever so frank tone that you honestly missed, and wished you could hear during these arguments with your boyfriend. “yn, i’d never… we wouldn’t treat you like that, me and art and tashi. we’re your real friends, we celebrate you. that’s how a relationship’s supposed to go. he’s a stupid fuck.”

you grinned a bit at his correction, the corner of your lips turning up.

“i know you wouldn’t.”

“can i ask you something though, yn?”

“mhm?” you looked up at him with such innocent doe eyes that he didn’t want to call bullshit, but he was calling bullshit. 

“why… why’d you come over here? why not to tashi or your mom’s or… anyone else? why me?”

you sighed deeply, shaking your head,

“because, patrick, i… i just… want you right now.”

his face impossibly close to yours, intruding your senses and all your walls before you even realized they were up. 

“how do you want me?” he asked, his voice the softest it had ever been, his breath tickling your cheek. 

you were hoping you wouldn’t have to finish your sentence, and patrick knew it — his hands gripped the sides of your face with a stronghold, and then your lips were crashing against each other like a wave coming to the tide, foaming and sputtering and wetting the cracked sand at the shore. and it didn’t take long before you were climbing on top of him and straddling him, your clothes falling off one by one. his rough hand clutching your breast and squeezing, another in your panties navigating your clit like a fucking expert, making your back arch against the air. then your legs by your head as patrick drove himself into you, tender and slow and making you see stars instead of his face and the ceiling. fucking every tear out of you, turning your sobs of pain into sobs of pleasure. your moans were like a choir to him, licking flames against his earlobes each time you whimpered his name, leaving little half-circle imprints in his back with his nails. sweat dripping down his forehead as he clutched his eyes shut and tried not to come too fast, tried not to let the way you wrapped around him like a fucking snake— pussy squeezing his cock, legs trapping him inside you, hands roaming his back like new found land — make him lose focus. 

“fuck, your fucking moans. d’you have any idea how much i’ve thought about this? f- fuck, if you come to me crying again, i’m not gonna go so easy on you.”

if he had an ounce of self-respect, he’d have stopped you after the first time (he didn’t have the discipline to deny you completely), but something about him stirred at the unpredictable predictability of it all. he knew that at least once a week, you’d come crying to him over something your asshole boyfriend did to you, it was just a matter of what day of the week. 

he liked when you came over on friday nights most, because more often than not you’d stay the night, sometimes the weekend, making the excuse to your boyfriend that you were sleeping over at a girlfriend or your mother’s house. but really you were just spending the whole weekend getting fucked by your recovery boyfriend patrick, who would scrape up the little money he had to order food from your favorite thai restaurant every night and watch what were, in his opinion, the most insipid movies he’d ever seen — because he knew that less than halfway through you’d be split open on his cock, sobbing with pleasure into his shoulder as princess diaries became a distant echo in the background. his hand on the small of your back, his vision glazing over as he stares ahead at the tv, too enraptured by the sweet whimpers you make while you’re (attempting to) ride him, the sounds of your slick pussy swallowing him whole in slow intervals, panting and gasping as he speared you open because he was: “so big, patrick you’re so big.”

he’ll snap out of it then, find his hands wrapped around your waist and his lips buried in the crook of your neck,

“it’s okay, baby. you can take me.”

“i’m trying,” you wailed, the frustration so clear in your voice that it almost made him laugh. 

instead, he wrapped his hands around your waist firmly, leading you down onto his cock himself. 

“fuck!” you shouted out, practically collapsing forward onto him. “patrick, please—”

“if you can come to me crying just to get dick, you can take it.”

you gasped at the directness of his words, punching yourself for how much it turned you on. and he knew it too, by the way your pussy throbbed around his dick. you couldn’t see his face, but you could practically hear the shit-eating smirk in his voice as he grabbed your asscheek,

“yeah, your pussy loves it though. and you love being my little slut behind closed doors when your boyfriend isn’t acting right.”

you couldn’t control the moan that tumbled out of your lips when he said that, and definitely not the screech you let out when he started to thrust up, jackhammering into you so his cock reached the hilt. 

“that what you wanted?”

“yes, yes!” you wailed, nodding desperately, positively wrecked as your head practically hung over his shoulder, enveloped in a world of pleasure. 

“yeah… i know…”

and sometimes he won't be so nice. he'll be damn near using your pussy like a fleshlight, his body practically covering yours as he fucks you like an animal, hard and fast and rough, your pussy squelching around his cock each time he rams it into you. he'll use you like he's the one that needs comforting, like your pussy is the only safe haven he knows. and it's only fair, the way you hide out in his house and act like his dick is your life source. he fucks you like he's an athlete and this is his sport, tennis be damned. he'll degrade you anyway he knows how — because he knows you love it, knows it makes you finish two times as fast.

"he doesn't fuck you like this."

"you're such a fucking slut. come over here crying acting like you don't pull up just to get fucked." he'll laugh as he says this, and you want to smack his chest in indignation, but you can't manage anything but moans.

“you’re such a good girl. letting me use this pussy when i want.”

"there you go, squeeze my cock like it's yours."

"pussy's so greedy, getting fucked by the both of us. still so fucking tight."

"your boyfriend's probably wondering where you are." this has made you come twice now.

"whose pussy is it?" (and even though you have a man, you tell him it's his every time. sometimes he doesn't even need to ask, sometimes he fucks you so good that you just scream out: "it's your pussy — it's your pussy, daddy", and he'll chuckle and say: "i know.").

and you let him say these things and more, because he fucks you like no one ever has, like he knows something you told him in complete and total secrecy. like it's something so complex — but all it ever takes is one touch.

your friends have noticed something is different between you two, but it's honestly not a big jump from before — only this time, you guys sealed the deal and were actually fucking now. of course, patrick can't keep his mouth closed for long and ends up bragging to art, and you tell tashi because she's one of the girls, and now there's this unspoken understand between all of you. but no one feels the need to intervene, because honestly... it makes sense.

and you’ll have a conversation with him every other time, telling him “we have to stop doing this.” and one day he replies, 

“yn. not to be a dick or anything, but you’re the one who calls me. you act like you're coming over for comfort, but we both know it's my dick doing all the comforting."

and you know it’s true, you know patrick is right even if he is an asshole. but you won’t let that stop you from texting him: thai food and a movie? everytime your boyfriend fucks up. and patrick won't stop you either.

[avatar-anna]

The Newlywed Game

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

young dad!harry and young mom!reader play the newlywed game!

wc: 5k

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Okay, Mom, Dad, please state your names for the video.”

Harry and Y/n shared a look like they couldn’t actually believe they were doing this. It was a quick one, though, and Harry was the first to snap his head back towards the phone propped up on a tripod. “Hello, I’m Harry. Collette’s dad.”

Y/n resisted the urge to roll her eyes. As long as she’d known him, Harry always introduced himself like he was some random guy that taught at the local high school and not a world famous musician. Harry caught his wife’s stare and raised his eyebrows at her, a question in his eyes. Y/n ignored it and proceeded to introduce herself as Collette’s mom.

A few months ago, Collette decided she wanted to start a YouTube channel. Since they tried to keep all six of their kids out of the limelight, it wasn’t something that Harry or Y/n were exactly thrilled to hear about. At first, Y/n had said no, telling her second oldest daughter that she was too young and didn’t have any business making videos on the Internet for the general public. She felt bad at how quickly she shut it down, especially since Collette was rather upset about being told no, but her mind was still made up.

What was most surprising was that Harry was the one who convinced her to say yes. Y/n couldn’t believe it. In all the time they’d been together, her husband appeared on his social media accounts only a handful of times. He was practically anti-social media, yet here he was, encouraging her to change her mind. “I talked to Jeff, and he said he would help keep an eye on things.”

“I don’t know, Harry. She’s seventeen. And the internet can be so cruel. We’ve done such a good job keeping them away from all of that.” Every one of their kids’ social media accounts had their comments turned off. Most, if not all, of their social media posts were pre-approved before getting posted, though that was becoming harder and harder the older they got. Simone, who was in college now, was still careful, but she wasn’t telling her parents about each picture she posted on her Instagram either.

“I think it’ll be fine,” Harry had insisted, kissing her cheek as she got the next day’s lunches ready for the twins, Collette, and Natalia a couple of hours after she had said no. Her daughter had groaned and looked like she was about to stomp her foot in frustration, but instead she told Y/n that she was the worst mom in the world and was ruining her life. Y/n was more than ready to tell her daughter that she better not be speaking to her that way, that fiery, argumentative side rising to the surface of her typically calm demeanor. They argued for a few minutes, then eventually left each other alone to blow off some steam. Collette stomped up to her room, but knew better than to slam her bedroom door, and that appeared to be that.

Harry had come home to a tense house, his wife and daughter in their separate corners and not talking to each other. He’d gone to Y/n first, asking her why the house was so quiet when it was usually buzzing with some sort of chatter. That’s when Y/n told him about Collette’s request, her answer, and the blow up that followed. Harry had gone upstairs a little while later to smooth things over with Lettie, who was quick to rest her head on his shoulder and vent about her mom.

“She doesn’t get it, she never does,” she’d said.

Harry ran his hand through his daughter’s hair, careful not to pull too hard on any knots. “Did you ever stop to think that she said no because she loves you and wants to keep you safe? Your mum has been on the receiving end of a lot of hate,” he said gently. “We don’t want to see that happen to you or your brother or sisters, peanut. It feels extreme, but we’re just looking out for you.”

Collette didn’t have anything to say in response to that until she eventually grumbled, “She didn’t have to be so mean about it.”

“Maybe not. Did you try to explain why you want to do this?”

“She didn’t even give me a chance! She just flat out told me no.”

He could hear the shakiness in Collette’s voice, the same shakiness that always appeared when she was frustrated. Whether she liked it or not, she was like her mom in more ways than she would ever know. It made a small smile flicker on Harry’s face to see a reflection of the woman he loved so much sitting next to him. His daughter.

“Your mum and I want to do what we think is best for you. You know that our lives aren’t as normal as we’d maybe like them to be.”

“Dad, I know, but I really want to do this. All my friends get to post about their lives whenever they want and I have to check with you or Mom first. It’s suffocating sometimes. It just feels like you don’t trust me sometimes.” Collette stopped for a moment, and Harry knew that this was something that had been on her mind for a while.

“That’s not why we have these rules, Collette. Not at all.”

Harry wanted to give her the world, and in a lot of ways he had, but he’d never really thought about how their rules might feel restricting, having only ever wanted to keep their children safe. And Simone never really had a problem with it, so Harry and Y/n figured it would be the same for the rest of their kids. But of course it wasn’t the same. All their kids were different and dealt with things differently.

Simone was more on the introverted side, had a close group of friends that were okay with keeping to themselves—although as Harry thought back, perhaps his oldest daughter was just going along with their rules but felt different on the inside, he would have to ask her about it later. Collette was the opposite, though. She had a large group of friends that liked to go to school sports games and parties and the beach. She’d always liked photography and taking pictures of her family if they were willing, Natalia usually her main subject; it was a feat if she managed to get Harry or Y/n in front of her camera, though. In a way, he shouldn’t have been surprised that this was something Collette wanted.

“Tell me more about it,” he’d said then, and his daughter’s responding smile was enough to make him crack. But he couldn’t say yes yet, he had to talk to his wife first.

So after making good on his promise and talking to his manager, making sure his little girl was safe and happy, they let her make her videos.

They were mostly pretty short, just of her doing her makeup in front of her camera and answering questions about her family. Sometimes she would ask Harry if she could borrow his clothes, and he would say yes because she was always borrowing something of his to wear to school, but to his surprise, it ended up being for a video, something with a title along the lines of turning her dad’s grandpa sweaters into something “cute.” He frowned when he watched it with Y/n in their bedroom one night, but she just laughed, more on board with her daughter’s hobby than ever. In other videos, she let her siblings join in—she’d do their hair or makeup or take them shopping or making food in the kitchen.

It wasn’t until Y/n appeared quickly in one of Lettie’s videos to do her hair for homecoming that requests came in to see more of her parents. She’d come to them and asked if they would sit down and play a game for one, and after lots of begging, they eventually caved.

“Tell us what you’re going to be doing today,” Collette said from behind the camera, a set of questions ready to go in her lap.

Harry looked relaxed in jeans and a sweater, his hair artfully messy as it always was. Y/n was in a pair of leggings and one of Harry’s old sweatshirts. It was black with the print faded to the point where it was barely visible, but through the sharp lens of Collete’s camera picked up what looked like a picture of the earth with words printed over it. Collette had frowned at her parents’ casual attire, but she decided not to comment on it seeing as she got them to film this video in the first place. And not that it really mattered anyway; in pajamas or dressed up for one of Harry’s events, her parents always looked fantastic.

“Erm, we are here to play the…sorry, peanut, what’s it called?” Harry said. His brows furrowed, like he was trying to recall the title Collette had given the video a few days ago.

She’d printed out a list of questions that they were going to answer today with the title printed in bold at the top. Like Y/n, Collette was very organized and had a list for practically every little thing that she did. Y/n looked over the list thoroughly while Harry decided to wing it on the day Collette said they were meant to film her video.

“Babe, don’t call her peanut on camera,” Y/n chided, shoving her husband’s arm lightly. She saw Collette’s frown from behind the camera when the name left Harry’s lips and was quick to correct him. She knew that all the stuff her daughter didn’t like could just be edited out, but Y/n figured things would go a lot smoother if their daughter didn’t get flustered and upset with them in the first five minutes of filming this video. Smiling cheerfully at the camera, Y/n said, “We’re playing the newlywed game, remember?”

“Right!” Harry said, his face lighting up at the familiar name. “Right, I remember because we’re playing a game for newlyweds even though we’ve been married for years.”

“Yeah, well, this will be a test to see how well you know each other after being together for so long,” Collette replied.

After that, they recorded the rules of the game—writing their answers to a number of questions about each other on little individual white boards, each right answer won them a point, and the one with the most points won the game.

“Okay, first question,” Collette said, looking down at her list. “When is your spouse’s birthday?”

“Spouse?” Y/n muttered, writing her answer down without hesitation. “Kind of formal, but alright.”

“But isn’t that what we are, love?” Harry asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Y/n merely hummed before turning her whiteboard over. “Easy. February first, nineteen ninety-four.”

Harry flipped his own board over, his answer correct, too. From there they answered more trivia about their relationship—anniversaries, favorite colors, zodiac signs, how old they were, and so on.

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“Who’s the better driver?” Collette asked.

Both of them were quick to jot down their answers. When they lifted their boards up to show their answers, Harry scoffed. “That is not even true.”

Y/n looked at her husband’s board, and saw that he’d written himself instead of her. “Not even! I’m a much better driver.”

“Y/n, I love you, but every time you get behind the wheel you drive like we’re in a high-speed chase.”

“I do not!”

Looking beyond the camera, Harry asked Collette, “Lettie, back me up here. I’m the better driver, right?”

“No, no. That’s not how that works. You can’t ask her,” Y/n said. “And besides, she’d disagree with you anyway.”

“It’s not that deep,” Collette said, trying to diffuse the argument before her parents could get started. Over the years, she realized that her parents didn’t fight very much, but their silly arguments could get quite intense, as both her mom and dad liked to be right. “Can we just move on, please?”

“I can’t believe you think I drive like a fugitive,” Y/n muttered as she wiped her answer away in preparation for the next question.

“I love you,” he said in reply, kissing her cheek when she grunted at him.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“What is the best gift you ever gave to Dad?”

“Oh, I know exactly what he’s going to put,” Y/n said confidently.

“No you don’t,” Harry pouted.

Y/n resisted the urge to tease him. “That’s the whole point of this game, H.”

“Okay, show your answers,” Collette said before they could get into another little tiff over nothing.

Harry flipped his first, his messy scrawl reading, 6 beautiful children. Y/n grinned and showed her answer, revealing that she had in fact written the exact same thing. “What did I tell you?”

“Must you be right all the time?”

Y/n pretended to think about it before saying. “Mm…Yes.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Who is the better dancer?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Y/n’s smug smile, but scribbled down his answer anyway. After Collette counted down from three, they showed their answers, both whiteboards saying Y/n.

“To be fair, you have improved a lot since we first met,” Y/n amended, having seen the bashful look on Harry’s face.

There was a time when Harry used to be embarrassed by his lack of coordination. He was okay at dancing onstage to his own songs, but outside of that, he had trouble finding the beat. Y/n was no professional by any means, but she was definitely better than him.

That all changed though when they managed to sneak off to some club together. Once a month, one or two or all of the boys agreed to watch Simone while Harry and Y/n went out on a date. They usually didn’t stay out long, but it was nice to feel their age once in a while, to let go of responsibilities for just a couple hours.

All night, Y/n kept trying to pull Harry out onto the dance floor, perhaps a little tipsy and feeling the bass a little too much, frowning every time he said no. Harry felt bad, but the fear of looking like an idiot was stronger, despite the club being so dark. So he told her to go and dance while he went to the restroom. Y/n sighed, clearly not happy with him. This was their one night of the month to let loose and spend some alone time together, and he was being so grumpy. Not wanting to let him ruin the night for her, she turned and went anyway.

When Harry came back, it took him a minute to find Y/n, but when he did, a wave of jealousy washed over him. She found a partner to dance with, which could only be Harry’s fault, but he didn’t like how close his then girlfriend at the time was to the other guy. He knew Y/n would never cheat and that she really was on the dance floor to just dance, but he just couldn’t handle seeing her with someone else like that.

Harry pulled Y/n off the dance floor, saying he wasn’t feeling well and that he wanted to go back to the hotel. Y/n saw right through his bullshit, but she left with him anyway.

“Okay, what is going on with you?” she asked once they were in the confines of their car. “You didn’t want to dance, so I found someone to dance with.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology, Harry, but I want to know what’s wrong. Talk to me.”

They were so young, and yet Y/n was so mature about the whole thing. Having a baby before twenty would do that, he supposed.

Harry sighed. He knew it wasn’t really a big deal, and the fact that he was making it one made him even more embarrassed. “I can’t dance.”

Knowing this was obviously a touchy subject for him, she tried to keep a straight face. “Okay…What parts do you have trouble with?”

“I don’t know, all of it? I just feel so awkward.”

Taking his hand in hers, she asked, “Why have you never told me this? We could’ve gone somewhere else.”

“I know, but you seemed excited about tonight. And it’s just embarrassing when you’re…you know…”

“What?”

“Love, respectfully? You’re fucking sexy.”

Y/n blushed. There weren’t very many moments where she felt even remotely desirable sometimes, let alone sexy. “Oh stop.”

“It’s true. I’d look like an idiot dancing with you.”

Harry pulled into the back of the hotel and put the car in park, but neither of them got out. Leaning across the middle, Y/n gently took his face in her hands and kissed him, running her thumb across his cheek the way he liked when he needed to be comforted.

“I think you’re exaggerating a little. You’re not as bad as you’re making yourself out to be.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said, frowning.

Y/n kissed away the wrinkle between his brows. “I’ll teach you, baby. Don’t worry.”

“Right now?”

“Mm, sure, why not.”

Both of them got out of the car, Y/n leading Harry to her hotel room. Simone was in Zayn’s room, so they had the place to themselves for just a little bit longer. From her phone, she queued up a song, something slow and easier to dance to.

“Okay, so you’re dancing to the beat of the song, not the what’s being sung,” she said, resting her hands on Harry’s hips. “Just feel the music. Let it move you.”

Harry started off a little awkwardly, but the longer Y/n coached him, the better he got. He followed her lead, stepping when and where she said. “See?” she said, smiling up at him. “You’re so good.”

He couldn’t hide his smile. Now that he was getting the hang of it, Harry couldn’t believe he didn’t dance with Y/n more often. His hands were on her hips, she was moving against him sensually, and in the heels she was wearing, she was just tall enough to kiss him whenever she wanted.

It was safe to say that Harry was Y/n’s forever dance partner after that. Y/n was obviously still better, but he’d come a long way. He took each and every one of his daughters to their respective Daddy/Daughter dances and never left his wife alone on any dance floor.

Collette, of course, didn’t know much about her dad’s dancing, just that he danced like dads often did. “Yeah, Dad, you’re not bad, Mom is just better.”

Harry shrugged and sighed playfully. “Can’t argue with that, can I?”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Okay, Mom, what is your favorite Harry Styles song?”

“Oh that’s hard, there’s just so many to pick from,” Y/n said, holding the board close to her chest. In truth, she had one in mind, but she was also thinking about what her husband would write as his answer, which made her hesitate.

She looked up, only to find that Harry was already waiting to meet her eyes. From behind the camera, Collette watched as her parents had a silent conversation. They stared at each other for a couple seconds, then finally seemed to end their conversation and went back to their whiteboards.

“Dad, you first,” Collette said, gesturing behind the camera for him to show his answer.

Harry flipped his board around revealing the words, “Track 15.”

Y/n flipped hers around to reveal the same thing.

“Do you want to explain?” Collette asked. She knew the song of course, but seeing as it was an unreleased song, she felt her parents should elaborate for the video.

“It’s a song H recorded for our what? Third wedding anniversary?” Y/n said. “It’s a love song, and little JuJu is on it, and it’s so sweet. I cry every time I listen to it, I think.”

Harry smiled at her. “You do.” Then to the camera, he said, “I play it when she’s cross with me too. Reminds her why she loves me.”

Y/n’s mouth opened in shock, clearly unaware of her husband’s make-up tactics. But then she closed it and gave Harry a look. “We’ll talk about it later.”

A look of fear crossed Harry’s face, and Collette just shook her head behind the camera before moving onto the next question.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“How did the two of you meet?”

Harry and Y/n were quick to answer on their boards, and when they flipped, they had the same answer.

“Her friend was an extra on the What Make You Beautiful video, and Y/n came too. Caught my eye immediately.”

“That is not what happened,” Y/n replied. “Zayn buried him in sand while he was taking a nap on the beach and I was the only one who wanted to wake him up.”

“I remember it differently,” was all Harry said.

“But,” Y/n added. “He and the boys joined my friend and me for a game of beach volleyball, which they’d never played before, and I will say you were quite flirtatious.”

“Knew what I wanted,” he said with a confident grin.

In truth, Y/n was surprised when Harry approached her. Her friend was the one who thought he was cute, and she was the one who was in the music video, so Y/n didn’t think any of the boys would notice her, much less take an interest in her. And he didn’t really talk to her until much later in the day. Niall and Louis were kind of the only ones who talked to her between shoots, and she thought Niall was quite funny.

To be fair, all of the One Direction boys were cute and funny and charming, but Niall was the one she had drifted toward at first, if only because he made her feel the most welcome. Later on, Harry had attached himself at Y/n’s hip while they played volleyball together. And long after too. He pulled her toward the shore and walked with her, asking her all sorts of questions from where she was from to what she was doing the next day. It was unexpected after he hadn’t spoken to her most of the day, but Y/n became more and more smitten the longer they talked.

As someone who wasn’t flirted with often, Y/n, for lack of better word, ate it all up. She thought he was so kind and she liked his smile and his pretty green eyes. She remembered feeling so light when her friend dropped her off at home, Harry’s number scribbled on a piece of paper in her back pocket. In the back of her mind, she knew she probably wouldn’t see him again, but he texted her that same night and asked if she was free tomorrow, and it just kind of spiraled from there.

Y/n never expected one little afternoon would turn into a lifetime with Harry, but she sometimes felt like it had been fate that she’d been there that day, even if her friend didn’t speak to her for a week for stealing Harry’s attention.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Which of you tends to get the most jealous?”

“I’d say neither of us get very jealous,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“Not anymore. You’ve always had a bit of a jealous streak,” Y/n amended. “Remember at the video shoot and Niall was chatting with me?”

Harry scratched his head and looked away from his wife. “No.”

Y/n laughed as she recalled the memory. “He was kind of the only one that day who would stop and talk to me before Harry did, and I remember looking over and thinking about your dad,” she said to Collette, “who pissed in his cereal this morning? Because he had this frown on his face whenever I caught his eye, and I’d hardly even spoken to him!”

“Uncle Niall was hitting on you?” Collette asked, unable to hide her disbelief and slight disgust.

“The correct response, thank you,” Harry said.

Y/n shook her head as if they’d had this conversation a million times. “He was talking you up, babe.”

“What?”

“Yeah. He said you were too shy to make the first move, but you ‘fancied’ me. It was so cute.”

Harry had been nervous to talk to Y/n. She’d woken him up at the beach earlier in the afternoon, but she hadn’t spoken to him since, and Harry didn’t know how to strike up a conversation with her. She was this beautiful American girl who just seemed so cool, so out of his league. Harry was slowly gaining confidence from being in the band, but he still got tongue tied around girls he fancied, and Y/n was no different. It wasn't until Zayn pushed him over to the volleyball courts that he felt confident enough to be more charming. Y/n made him comfortable enough to be himself, and he knew he needed to do as much as he could to let him give her his number so he could see her again. Harry wasn’t going to be in LA very long, so he knew he had to make those couple days count.

Boy did he ever.

“We used to get a little jealous, but,” Y/n shrugged, “I don’t know I think we just grew out of it, don’t you think?”

“I’d say that’s pretty fair,” Harry agreed, though he knew how much of a hard time his wife had the first year or two they were together. It was hard for her to watch him flirt and be cheeky with other women on national television or go on fake dates when she was home with Simone. Harry was never tempted, not once, but he knew that he would’ve felt similarly if the roles were reversed.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“What is Mom’s favorite tattoo of Dad’s?”

“I don’t even think I know,” Y/n said as she tapped her marker against her whiteboard.

“Definitely not the butterfly,” Harry muttered, scribbling something down.

“That’s not true! It was just jarring to see at first. You didn’t even tell me you were gonna get it!”

Harry shrugged and winked at the camera. “I like to be spontaneous.”

Collette waited for her parents to finish writing their answers, though she was surprised that this was the one that took the longest for Y/n to answer. When it looked like they were done, she said, “Okay, three, two, one, flip!”

Harry’s board read, Brazil. When he saw Y/n’s answer, he scoffed. “Really?”

“I don’t know, I think it’s cute!” she said when he judged her answer if, palm tree. “You’re like a little California girl at heart.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I figured Brazil one because, you know, you actually did that one.”

The truth they refused to admit was that deep down Y/n’s favorite were the fern tattoos. She always took extra time kissing them whenever they were intimate, but neither of them were willing to admit that in front of their daughter or on camera.

“Close second,” Y/n said with a knowing glance at Harry.

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“Who said I love you first?”

Harry and Y/n answered with a resounding, “Harry” and “H.”

Y/n leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I was quick to follow, to be fair.”

Harry shrugged, a smug little grin on his face. “I was still first.”

Y/n just rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were flushed, as if she was remembering the day right then.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Okay, and last couple questions. What is Dad’s drink of choice?”

When asked to reveal her board, Y/n turned it around, the words “neat tequila” written on it. She felt pretty confident about it, but when Harry turned his board around, she frowned. “Since when?”

“Your dad turned me onto Scotch years ago,” he said, looking at her incredulously.

“Lies.”

“Babe, every Christmas your dad and I share a drink together. It’s like our thing.”

“You have a tequila reposado every time we go out.”

“That‘s…also true,” Harry admitted, grinning sheepishly.

Collette decided that was a good time to move on. “And what’s Mom’s?”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Okay, everyone! That was my parents playing the newlywed game!” Collette said, now sitting between Harry and Y/n.

She did her usual sign-off with her parents, though both insisted that they revealed who won the game. It was close, but Harry beat Y/n by two points, which Collette knew would be the topic of conversation the next couple days. Her parents were weirdly competitive with each other.

It was safe to say that that video was Collette’s most viewed. People went crazy over seeing Harry and Y/n together like that when the didn’t normally make public appearances unless it had to do with Harry’s music. They were often dubbed “Hollywood’s Most Elusive Couple” for a reason, so to see them in a video together, and one where they talked about their relationship, at that, was a pleasant surprise for everyone.

Request after request came in to see more of Harry and Y/n, but Collette knew it would be a while before her parents agreed. Not that she minded, she was just glad they agreed in the first place.

[bvnniz]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ bunny!reader x vox , bunny!reader & carmilla carmine

𝜗𝜚 warnings: forbidden love, bunny’s soul is owned by carmilla, more fluff then anything, idk how aging works in hell but bunny ages like a normal person does, same thing with carmilla’s daughters

A/N: i feel as though this story could have a part 2 ( which would probably include smut ngl . . . ) so please comment & tell me if that’s something you guys would want !!

flashback, twenty years ago when bunny first appeared in hell

carmilla and her daughters had been on a walk when they heard a couple of sniffles coming from an alleyway, clara immediately let go of her moms hand and went running towards the sound.

“clara!” carmilla yelled before following with odette, that’s when they finally found the source of the sniffles when they saw little five year old you crying in the alleyway.

“bunny!” clara practically yelled while pointing at you. “indeed she is, where are your parents, sweetheart?” that just made your sobbing start again “they aren’t here.”

carmilla had taken pity on you, mostly due to the fact her daughters begged for a bunny sister. so she took you in and made you apart of her family.

twenty years later, four months before next extermination

“vox, valentino. glad to see all of the vee’s finally have decided our overlord meetings aren’t good enough for them.” carmilla spoke, clearly annoyed causing you to try not to let out a laugh

vox wanted to state he was purely only there for you. truth was you and vox met a couple months ago, went on a couple dates and have been dating since. except no one knows, especially carmilla.

she was your mom for the past twenty years and if there’s one thing she hated more than anything it was the vee’s. she didn’t even want you coming to the meeting because she was told all three vee’s were planning on attending.

your mother glared at the three before turning to you signaling for you to make your exit, she knew odette & clara would be fine if something were to happen but you were always very sensitive, crying at the littlest things. she wasn’t making you leave to be mean, she meant it to be so you didn’t get upset over yelling.

you nodded before leaving the board room and heading to your room. vox making some excuse which got him out of staying before he materialized in your room.

“voxxy!” you practically screamed before pulling him into a hug. “hi princess.” he smiled back at you. “how’d you get here without my mother noticing?”

he just shook his head in response “i barely see you anymore you really think i’m gonna let her try to get me from seeing my little bunny less than i already do?” he pulled you into a kiss which lasted about a minute before you pulled away “what if my mother comes in?”

he sighed before sitting on your bed “you know valentino and velvette are gonna make that meeting way longer than it needs to be.” you nodded before sitting on his lap and pulling him into a kiss.

the kiss turned more heated after a while, vox laying down with you still on top of him, you grinding against him.

although it only lasted a little while longer before your mother walked in “sweethe- what the hell?!” you had immediately pushed yourself off vox standing in front of your bed “mom, it’s not what it looks like i swear!”

“really because it looks like this tv head has decided to leave an important meeting to try and fuck my daughter.” you just stared at the ground for a second before replying “okay so it is what it looks like . . . but he’s fine mom! i swear! we’ve been dating for months and he hasn’t even done anything bad! we haven’t even actually had sex yet!”

carmilla took a deep breath before continuing “you two have been dating and you kept this from me? you know how i feel about lies.” you tried to reply but you couldn’t find the words, you just stared at the ground more, trying to keep your tears in

“carmilla. do not take this out on her. i asked her out, i only even came to this stupid meeting so i could see her. i love this little bunny more than any stupid sinner could. i know you don’t like me and i know you don’t like me dating your daughter more but i love her and i’m pretty sure she loves me. so please don’t make her stop talking to me or something.” you looked back at vox, him meeting your gaze with a smile

“do you love him?” you turned to your mom and nodded “more than anything.” she nodded back “i’ll allow it, but you so much as hurt her and you will be unplugged.” with that she left.

you immediately turned back to vox before climbing back on his lap “you got her approval!” you cheered before peppering his screen with kisses causing him to chuckle. “we got the approval, bunny.”

[runnning-outof-time]

You know I had to do another one! 💙🥂

From the 5 word list, #16 - “Please stay with me tonight.” - with John or Tommy (that's up to you!)

(2 of 2)

Thanks for sending this one in also, Bri! I went with John on it so that I could break to the little Tommy steak that was going on before this! I also may be bending canon a little bit here, but oh well. And I couldn’t resist the silly title. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

Gangsters Have Feelings…?

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, smoking, one sexual reference

Word Count: 1017

Summary: John calls on (Y/N) when he’s having trouble coping with the decisions of his brother, Tommy. (Y/N)’s quite honestly surprised to see this side of him.

(Y/N) took the moment of pause in the conversation she was having to wonder just how in the hell she’d wound up in this position. She never could have expected that her on the fly befriending of John Shelby one evening at the Eden Club would have led to showing up at his hotel room because he needed someone to talk to.

Hell, this brought on a whole new question…gangsters have feelings?

She hadn’t thought of it before, but it was becoming clear that they did…or this one did at least.

From the second she entered the suite, she knew that John was upset. She felt it. The usual energy that he exuded whenever she was around him was missing, and he wasn’t paying much care to his appearance at the moment. His usual three-piece suit had been exchanged for a pair of slacks and a messily tucked in undershirt.

The reason for his calling became apparent the second she asked him what had been going on. A simple question opened the floodgates of complaints of how his brother had been running the business; putting a much younger cousin in a more respectable position while he and his other brother were expected to keep up with the unmentionable side of things.

“You know I never had any ambition to sit in an office and jerk around over some fucking papers, but it’s just that…that’s me own fucking brother making the calls. I mean…it’s gotta count for something, right?” John started talking again, making (Y/N) focus back in on the conversation.

“It should,” she offered a comment, letting him know that she was actively listening to his plight.

John sighed and carded his fingers through the longer parts of his hair before bringing the cigar he’d been smoking up to his lips. He took a deep drag and blew the smoke out in a steady stream as he peered through the window. “And now Michael’s in the office and Arthur’s in charge of London, and I ain’t got nothin’. Tommy doesn’t care though because all I am is some fuckin’ yes man who takes care of errands for him.”

“I…” (Y/N) stopped herself before she could continue. She didn’t really know what to say. Talking hadn’t been placed that high on the agenda of their previous visits. (Y/N) didn’t really know anything about John Shelby…other than he most certainly knew what to do in bed. So she wasn’t sure what type of can of worms she could open by giving improper advice. She could tell that he was looking for it though; advice. “I’m sure that Tommy cares about you, John. You’re his brother,” she started off with a vague statement.

“That’s about all I am,” John mumbled as he shook his head, his eyes focused on the floor.

(Y/N) sighed as she stood from the chair she’d been sitting on. She silently moved over to the window sill he’d been sitting on and took a seat on the corner of it that had been left open. “Look, John…” she paused again, trying to come up with how she was going to finish the rest of her statement. She hated that she didn’t know exactly what to say. “I don’t know much detail about the area of business that you and your family work in, but I do know the man that you are. I know that you care, that you give your all to what you’re doing, and that you’re damn good at it.” She didn’t take his eyes off of him after she finished speaking, watching for any little movement he might make.

Instead of saying anything, John just shook his head. It didn’t seem as though he was shaking off her statement, but rather shaking his head at the situation in general.

“John,” she spoke his name like a breath, hoping that he’d at least look at her. She was really struggling with what more she could add in to help the situation. There had to be some reason he called her to come over, right?

Thankfully, her attempt worked, and he lifted his downtrodden eyes up to match hers. The hopeless expression that was etched into his features made her frown, and she couldn’t stop from reaching out and cupping his cheek with her hand. She brushed her thumb against his skin while keeping eye contact, hoping that her comforting actions would make up for the fact that she had no clue of what to say.

Some time - (Y/N) wasn’t even sure how much - passed before she spoke again. “John, I’m sorry…I want to help, but I’m struggling with what more I should add,” she finally came clean, explaining her internal dilemma before she sent a sympathetic look his way.

“You comin’ here is help enough, love,” he answered her, leaning into her touch. His statement made the smallest smile form on (Y/N)’s face, and that alone helped him start to forget about his woes.

“I…um…” she stuttered over her words as she tired to think of what to say next.

“Please stay with me tonight,” John - thankfully - cut her off. The sentence, which was usually asked as a question, was spoken by the Birmingham gangster as a statement.

“You want me to?” she checked before giving her answer.

“I need you to,” he answered with a reworded version of her statement.

(Y/N) thought for a moment. This question - that John had been asked her many times before - sounded different now. He needed her in a way that he hadn’t before. The thought of that made her heart start to beat faster.

“Will you?” he asked after a few beats had passed.

“I will,” she nodded, sending him a smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, taking her by surprise as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t pull back from it though, immediately kissing him back. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he pulled away just enough to say before his lips were on hers again.

**taglists are added in the reblogs!

MASTERLIST

[lxclerc]

𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

SUMMARY: in which daniel is terrified the whirlwind of his world would make you leave him. REQUEST: from anon: “Angry!daniel cause ever since y/n and him went public, paps won't leave her alone and she feels overwhelmed so he gets pissed and goes off on them”  WARNING: invasive paps, hints of anxiety PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k

NOTE: i actually genuinely hate this haha definitely not my best writing

MASTERLIST

I’d give you my sunshine, give you my best. But the rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me. Is it enough if I never give you peace?

The first time you got sent hate after going public with Daniel, you laughed it off as you showed it to your boyfriend, finding the entire concept of someone going out of their way and taking time out of their day and putting in effort just to send such brainless comments about someone they’ve never talked to. 

“My first hate comment,” you joke, placing your head against his shoulder. “Does this mean I’ve made it?”

But Daniel doesn’t seem to find it as funny as his arms wrapped around you, a frown on his face as he gently took the phone from you, already making a mental note of the usernames. “I can speak up about this. Maybe lessen it a little.”

Your laugh cuts off when you realize he’s genuinely upset and so you take your phone back, putting it down as you place your chin against his chest, looking up at him to meet his eyes. “You don’t have to, Dan. It’s just a bunch of jealous idiots hiding behind their screens and it means nothing to me. I know what I signed up for when I started dating you.”

Daniel says nothing else, only pulling you closer to him as he meets your lips in a soft kiss, making you smile thinking that was it but still, Daniel couldn’t help the sudden sinking in his stomach. He hates the fact that you’ve accepted that loving him comes with dealing with hate and he can’t help but wonder how long you can take it till you decide it’s enough, making fear rise in his chest. 

—

The first time you appeared in the Paddock, the whirlwind of photographers and fans alike crowding around you and your boyfriend had you holding on to Daniel’s hand a little tighter, letting him pull you towards him in a subtle way to shield you from the cameras and the prying eyes, a crease appearing in his forehead.

Still, you only smile at him, trying to ignore the crawling in your skin as you give him a reassuring squeeze, not wanting to worry him before a race because of a silly little thing.

However, everyone can see that the public’s interest with you seems to be different from their interest from the other wives and girlfriends. Perhaps it’s because of your bubbly persona or the way Daniel seems so madly in love with you but they took special interest in everything you do, your follower count skyrocketing from a few hundreds consisting of friends to millions in a matter of days. 

“Y/N!” An interviewer called, saying your name as though you’re close friends rather than complete strangers as he all but shoves his mic to your face, making you stumble back a little till Daniel wrapped an arm around your waist to stabilize you. “How do you think Daniel will do this qualifying?” 

Daniel was about to speak, probably to make some excuse that would save you from the intruding interviewer but you only give him a nervous smile, not wanting to cause a scene or make yourself seem snobbish that would in turn reflect on your boyfriend.

And so you answer with as much grace as you can manage, trying to school your features into a smile that you hoped doesn’t look as uncomfortable as it feels. “To be honest with you, I’m still not quite sure how the sport works but one thing is for sure, however Dan performs, I’ll be cheering for him.”

And with that, Daniel is steering you away before anyone can ask anything else, not wanting to overwhelm you the first time that you come to a race to support him. 

“That was weird,” you mutter once you’re far enough away from the group of people, the McLaren motorhome becoming visible as the pit of fear in his returns.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, hand holding yours unknowingly becoming tighter. “They can be invasive. I should have told you.”

You’re quick to spot the immediate worry appearing in his voice along with the crease in his eyebrows and so you make sure to give him a smile, planting a kiss on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Dan. It isn’t your fault and I don’t mind answering a few questions.”

—

Still, the media’s fascination with you only seems to grow. You’re not entirely sure either for what reason but it only seems to get worse as the entire issue with McLaren reaches the media. You’ve been busy mostly getting Daniel’s mind out of it as the two of you went camping with a few friends, deciding on a no phones allowed week filled with just each other.

The moment you come back though, everything seems to fall over. You aren’t like the usual models like the other WAGs are. You actually do have a boring desk job and an irritating boss and live pretty much a normal life. 

Of course up until you came in for work and a hoard of people with cameras came at you.

“Y/N, did you know about Daniel leaving McLaren?”

“Has Daniel told you about his future?” 

“What do you have to say about McLaren sacking Ricciardo in exchange for Piastri?” 

You can feel your chest getting tighter as you fight through the hoard to get back to your car, wanting nothing more than to get away from the invasive questions. Once your doors are locked and you’re back in the safety of your car, you immediately dial Daniel’s number, hands slightly shaking as cameras continue to go off outside.

“Dan?” Your voice is shaking too, you realize as you take deep breaths.

“Honey?” He asks and you can still hear the sleep lacing his voice. “I thought you’re at work.”

“I was,” you say, suddenly thanking everything that your car is tinted and no one can look inside from the outside. “There are paparazzis here and photographers. They were asking questions about you and I’m just–” You cut yourself off, unable to continue as your voice shakes again. “There’s a few of them surrounding my car.”

“What? Fuck.” Daniel suddenly sounds aware as you hear shuffling from his side as he gets out from the comfort of your shared bed. “I’ll come pick you up. Where are you?”

“No, no,” you say immediately. “I’ll drive home. I just wanted to let you know. They were asking me about McLaren and stuff and I didn’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“Who cares about that?” He sounds angry but you know it isn’t you he’s angry with. “I’ll run them all over.”

“Just stay there,” you tell him, already starting your car. “I’m on my way home.”

You hear him sigh and you know he wants to fight back again, wanting to be the one to pick you up and make sure you’re safe but he also knows there’s no way you’ll agree and so he can only nod his head despite the fact that you can’t see him. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for this, baby.” 

“It’s fine,” you’re quick to say even though you both know it isn’t. “It’s not your fault, Dan.”

“Still,” he insisted. “They’re bothering you because of me.”

You sigh, not knowing what else to say and you sound so tired that it breaks Daniel’s heart. Are you tired of it? Tired of dealing with everything that comes with him? Are you tired of him?

“We’ll talk when I get home,” you say instead.

— 

“Daniel Ricciardo caught punching photographer.”

You sigh as Michael read the words, hand on Daniel’s wrist as you cleaned his wound gently. After a good night in celebration of his p5 finish in Singapore, the last thing you’d expected was this. A dinner date that was going inexplicably well as you and Daniel giggled over glasses of wine, hands entwined on the table. It was almost perfect if it weren’t for the sudden appearance of a couple of men with cameras blocking your paths as you move to go back to your hotel.

Daniel had you behind him, doing his best to shield you away from the prying questions but it was getting harder and harder as the few men became a horde after fans just passing by recognized him. He was trying his best to keep you behind him, arms wrapped around you in an attempt to put a barrier between you and the people you didn’t know.

His plan was to get you safely in the car then maybe he’d come back out to sign some stuff and get pictures, not wanting to completely ignore his supporters. However, that all flew out the window the moment one of the photographers wrapped a hand around your wrist, pulling you back and making you yelp as you almost fell if it weren’t for your boyfriend’s arm around you.

“Hey, man, let her go.” The restrained anger is clear in Daniel’s as he glared at the man still holding on to your arm.

But the man seemed to have heard nothing as he turned to you. “Y/N, I just have a few questions–”

But the photographer was unable to finish his sentence with Daniel’s fist colliding with his face. He’s never been one to result to violence but all he can seem to see is red as the man kept pulling at your wrist and before he knew it, he was pulling his arm back for a punch. 

“I told you to let go of my girlfriend, you fucker,” he spat out at the photographer now on the floor. 

Daniel seems ready to throw another punch but you’re quick to pull him away by his arm, the two of you barely escaping the clicks of cameras and videos that you’re sure is already trending on twitter.

And so here you were, in his hotel room as you cleaned his bloody knuckles, Michael standing over the two of them as he read the headlines. 

“McLaren marketing will handle it,” Daniel says and you know he’s still angry. “At least they’re useful for something.”

You couldn’t help but sigh again as you offer Michael a smile. “We’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mike.”

The trainer thankfully took the hint, nodding as he leaves the two of you by yourselves. For a moment it’s quiet as you entwine your hand with Daniel’s, placing it on your lap. You rest your head against his shoulder as you allow the silence to comfort the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “We were having such a great night.”

You smile softly at him, moving your head so your chin is on his shoulder. “It was still a good night, Dan.”

“I don’t know how you can keep doing it, stay with me and have your privacy be regularly violated.”

Is it okay if I never give you peace?

“Because I love you.” There’s no hesitance in your voice as you say it. “Being with you and watching you do what you love makes it all worth it.”

“For how long?” There’s genuine fear in Daniel’s voice as he asked it, finally voicing out thoughts that have been plaguing his mind for months.

But you only smile that reassured smile of yours at him, seemingly so sure of your answer. “For as long as you want me.”

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[pageofheartdj]

So I rewatched the pilot, and so Charlie calls her absenteee mom and leaves her a voicemail about how her dad doesn’t believe in her. Seconds later her new father figure shows up. The current big sensible theory is that her mother owns his soul. So like you have Lilith getting a message that Lucifer’s a bad dad, then is immediately like ‘yo, Alastor, you’re her dad now, here’ and he’s left at the front door. Like he remained to help even after Charlie wouldn’t make a binding deal with him, to say the real reason was he couldn’t not help even if he’d wanted to. Also, separately, while Vox and the Vees are villains, sure, is it relevant that at their meeting about Alastor, Vox seemed just a bit genuinely concerned about stopping Alastor from ‘making a deal with Lucifer’s daughter’, like somehow he knew he hadn’t done so already, as if him doing so would have caused something BIG to happen Vox would be aware of if it had happened? Something they may have discussed in the past when the two were on better-enough terms respect-wise for Vox to want to work with him? To say something Hell-defining will happen in that scenario? Also Alastor did succeed in making on of those binding deals, only with Vaggie for not appearing on television, and while this might be irrelevant since she’s an angel, if he knew that then it might be a very big thing.

About the deals. I think the more you have souls, the more powerful you get. If you make a deal with Lucifer's daughter, not only you will become even MORE powerful, but you will have the third strongest being in Hell at your command. And we know that Alastor is bloodthirsty, it speaks danger to other overlords, or anyone at all. So of course when Vox hears Alastor is with Charlie, he is concerned.

And Alastor did not make that sort of deal with Vaggie. Like he specified that this is a normal deal, he does this to her, she does this to him, no magic included.

And about the dad thing... I am 100% do not see Alastor as Charlie's father figure, and I 100% do not believe he sees Charlie as his daughter. That part of the song was SOLELY to piss Lucifer off. Lucifer was VERY insecure about his place in Charlie's life, so Alastor attacked it. He was constantly glancing at Lucifer every time he made a comment like this with eat-shitting grin, because it upsets Lucifer a LOT.

I think Lilith somehow owns Alastor too, and this is why he was so antagonistic towards Lucifer. He can't exactly talk back at Lilith since she owns him, but trolling Lucifer will do. (plus he insulted the name of the hotel and Alastor does NOT like digs into his ego xD)

I also believe that Lilith still loves Lucifer. She might have sent Alastor because Charlie needed support AND maybe it worked into her plans. But she would never send a replacement in the family she deeply cares about.

[georgiapeach30513]

Jen, marketing anon from last night!

I came to clarify some comments because I do not want people running to your page and miscontruing things and then bombarding you for no reason. There’s another blog on here that I’ve seen who works in the industry and she was not impressed with the interview either.

This is just my opinion and I am not confirming anything was scripted. But I can tell you I am 1000% sure that interviewer was reading from a page and she looked very very awkward and almost unrehearsed. It bothers me because she works for access Hollywood and they should know beyond better in my opinion.

I work in marketing, yes. My industry is tech - which means the people I work with are usually engineering nerds gone corporate. Very different vibes lol. But we just did a video recently celebrating a partnership with a very prominent bank and our CEO and the client participated in the video. They appeared in the video to be “answering questions” and bless them both, couldn’t make it more obvious they were reading from something on a screen (it’s in the eye contact). Also - the camera pointing right at them while they stare to their left and shift back and forth makes it even more obvious. However, these people are not entertainers, reporters, or actors. Them being awkward on screen is a little less cringe but still meh when this stuff gets posted on YT and Facebook.

Like I mentioned, I can tell that 1000% the AH interviewer is reading off something. Her eyes shifting back and forth and she’s clearly not staring at the camera though the camera is on her face directly. Something was awkward about it but she’s reporting for AH so that’s even more weird to me how unprofessional and very not camera comfortable she looked.

As for CE, he at least looked like he was answering from memory or making it look as such - but he is an actor. That’s what he’s supposed to do.

But I’ll say this: The way he sounded during most of the interview…wasn’t great. I’m not hating on him and I know he’s just doing what he’s told, answering questions that she asked him - but I mentioned the cut away from his face as he started to talk about “personal” stuff was very telling.

Old footage, as he talks over the images that basically don’t have anything to do with the dog food he’s promoting was interesting. To me, it felt like a shoehorn. You don’t see his face as he’s saying the personal stuff and people hear him mention someone’s name. Again.

In marketing, we often have to “insert topic” and add a word or name or buzz topic when we push or promote a campaign. Our writers and social media marketers have to somehow mention what we need mentioned somewhere in the promotion. It can be done in many ways and the intent is always to make it look organic but many times, it feels the opposite. When you’ve been in the field for a bit you can usually pick out the obvious tells of a marketing push, which is why I wanted to send that ask to you last night. Something sincerely doesn’t feel right about all this and I do feel bad because I can see fans who care so much about a celeb being upset that they’re getting yanked around.

But business is business. Please take care of your own mental health if something like this is truly getting to you.

I can’t put words into other people’s mouths but if my boss saw this interview and she was approving it to go live - she would have asked them to re record and ask him to put more life into it. 😂 Also, if the questions were pre approved he could have had a ghost writer come up with something more substantial to say. If this was coming from the heart, well…

Like you mentioned yesterday, that energy he had with his old costar at the walk of fame ceremony was what you can’t fake. He seems like a man who truly wears his emotions and heart on his sleeve and he was genuinely happy and fond of seeing his friend.

This interview though? Yikes. Again, people will see and hear what they want and take what they want from this.

I give this interview a 2/10 as well. 😝

Agree with all your points. To me it’s obvious she was reading from a script. The camera was too close to her face and we see her awkwardly looking to the side. He however, as you mention, does seem to at least “know his lines”. I don’t think it’s absurd to think these questions were pre approved and that he had his speaking points and what he was okay mentioning.

[klausysworld]

being in an arranged marriage with yandere klaus mikaelson would include

Arranged marriage to Yandere Klaus:

It’s an arrangement of convenience. Probably to bring some sort of piece to the factions, meant to make people feel safer.

To begin with you are nothing but a burden. You’re to stay in your room out of the way so he doesn’t have to worry about you.

After a while he notices how you timidly tiptoe around him, how you do little things you think that he would like, like when you tidy up his art supplies when he gets upset and throws everything about or when you refill his drink without thinking.

He thinks back to the day you got married, he remembers the simple but elegant gown your wore and how lovely your hair was put. He wished he could go back and be more appreciative of your beauty.

He finds himself falling for your personality once he gets to know you more, he begins harbouring the desire to keep you safe.

He coaxes you to sleep in his bed, tells you that its only right a wife sleeps in the same bed as her husband. He never forces himself of you, he would never swoop that low. But he will cage you underneath him. Keep you in place so you can’t leave, he’ll pretend to be asleep while you struggle to drag yourself away from his strong arms.

He’ll begin ordering breakfasts in bed for you both, he gets you an array of foods and gets you to try them all. He manages to perfect the meals to your liking and feels a strong sense of pride when he notices your little smile of appreciation or your blush when he feeds you himself.

He didn’t notice how much you spoke to the other vampires until he took a day to watch how you behaved around the compound. The male residents seemed to be far too comfortable with you for his liking. Even some of the females would give you flirtatious comments and have you giggling. Klaus needed everyone to understand you were his.

He began having his arm wrapped around you, pressing kisses to the crown on your head and giving you additional nicknames on top of ‘love’ ‘sweetheart’ he called you ‘my queen’ ‘little dove’ ‘sweet wife’ and so on.

Once he had gotten a taste of your soft lips he knew he had to keep you forever. He needed to have you for himself. His mouth was on yours as often as possible, his hands holding your face firmly but still gently as he tried to slip his tongue into you mouth, eventually you let him and he was over the moon.

From then he was very keen to make a show of public affection, hands all over you making you softly whimper into his mouth while his body slightly grinded into you. He couldn’t help himself but crave you attention.

He began painting you presents and making you meaningful things to see your face light up as you thanked him with a kiss and a tight hug.

He both loved and hated events, you would look beyond perfect but that also seemed to capture a few other peoples attention making him feel possessive and jealous.

He adored dancing with you. Having you hold onto him as he twirled you around and pulled you right to him was just lovely.

He would plant little kisses up your neck to get your attention before yapping on about his day, sometimes you gave your advice and sometimes you stayed quiet, depended on how moody he appeared

He would often mention the idea of having another wedding, one where you would both be happier and less forced

Eventually you caved and you had a huge wedding in a priceless dress dancing with your husband almost the entire time

After that night everyone knew you were his. Whether it was the second wedding that told them or you moaning his name for hours on end, they knew.

He keeps you close, protected and happy. He loves you now and that’s all that matters