#you don’t get to be angry that i am his favorite. i shouldn’t have to tell you that children love people who are present & loving

[peachy-dove]

Shanks x Fem!Bunny Hybrid!Reader

CW:MDNI!! 18+ only!, 2k words, Bunny hybrid reader, fem reader, mentions of alcohol, cuss words, Bratty bunny, sitting in Yasopp’s lap, jealous shanks, light degradation, a little spanking, Use of cunt and cunny, DaddyDom shanks, mentions of: Good girl/Bunny/Bunny girl and more pet names, creampie, Oral (male receiving)

A/N: Everyone say thank you to @littlemochabunni for the idea! I’ve always wanted hybrid reader one piece fics, they're some of my favorites in other fandoms so here I am attempting to write one now!

The Redforce was docked on an island in the new world. Shanks and Benn had agreed that they deserved a break from the constant fights. And what else could keep up morale better than a party and some good booze!

The crew was lively and the sun was bright beaming down on the crew. The beach was beautiful and full of plenty of fruit and food from Lucky Roux to go around. Shanks was already drinking by the time the ship hit the shore with his cute little bunny (y/n) by his side. Or rather was by his side, she ran off with the rest of the crew to play in the water earlier. Her pink bikini fit her body just right, man was it a great sight to see. (Y/N) sauntered over with a twinkle in her eyes at the sight of her man.

“Come play with me shanks!” she pleaded with him pulling on his arm though not getting very far. He pulled his arm away and pet her head, feeling the fur of her ears softly graze his hand “Sorry bun, I’m trying to relax right now I’ll come play later, okay?” He told her, sitting back in his beach chair and sipping his drink. The bunny hybrid stomped her foot in frustration, puffing out her cheeks. “But I wanna play now!” 

Shanks sat up and gave her a stern look, “Don’t start being a brat little girl, I don't want to have to punish you on such a nice day would I?” You puff and give him a nod of your head saying ‘no’. He chuckles and kisses your forehead and rubs your lower back.

“I’ll come play with you later bunny, daddy just wants to relax for okay, so don’t get your bikini in a twist.” You hug him and nuzzle into his chest, still angry at him but nevertheless go and hang with the rest of the crew. But on your way you started to devise a plan to finally get shanks’ attention once and for all. If he wanted to see a brat you were going to show him one.

You prance your way over to your good friend and crewmate Yasopp, who was half drunk sitting with Bonk Punch and Monster. “Hey sopp! Watcha doing?” you ask, your ears perked up in interest. Trying to get his attention with your chest on display in your mini pink bikini. He looks down at you, his cheeks heating up from the sight of your luscious tits presented to him, he stammers a bit but responds quickly after,

“H-hey (y/n)! What brings you over here? Shouldn’t you be hanging with the boss?” you huff a little in remembering your boyfriend ignoring you but you straighten back up and bat your lashes at him. You poke out your ass as Yasopp continues to look at your wonderful body up and down as you talk. “Shanks will be fine! I just came to see my best friend!” you get closer to him as Monster and Bonk watch from the side. You climb into his lap and lick your lips seductively.

“You like talking to me don’t you Yasopp?” Yasopp starts to squirm in seat and is sweating nervously. “Bunny what are you doing?” Yasopp asks, his eyes skittishly looking around trying to make sure his captain wasn’t watching your bold display in front of not only him but other members of the crew as well. “What, you don't like being so close?” you lean in to him and stare deep into his eyes as he looks away hurriedly. You giggle from his demeanor.

You sit on his lap fully as he freezes for a moment and looks up from you. Yasopp felt his soul leave his body as the beach went quiet around him. You felt the shift in the beach air as Yasopp looked away from you. Your ears twitched from the sheer presence standing behind you, the hairs standing on the back of your neck making it hard to keep a calm facade. 

“Care to explain what you’re doing bunny girl?” A deep and gruff voice cutting the silence like a knife. You turn your head and see Shanks standing tall in front of you, he doesn’t look too happy right now. “Hey babe! I was just helping Yasopp, he had something caught in his eye” You lie to him, looking him into his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed from your response. “Is that so bunny? Did you have to help him by placing your cute little ass in his lap?” His patience is wearing thin with you but you can’t help but push him over the edge.

“I don’t know, I think it was pretty necessary, I was just helping him, I don't see the big deal, you're being dramatic.” You turn away from him and huff, and look back at Yassop to be the cherry on top of your little performance.

Shanks felt his eye twitch from your willingness to get under his skin, but it lit the fire under him to play your little game. In one fell swoop Shanks snatches you up from Yasopp’s lap and puts you over his shoulder, storming his way back to his cabin on the ship.

"Hey what are you doing Shanks, stop it!” you bang your fists on his sturdy back which didn’t do much. He gets to your shared cabin and puts you down on the bed on all fours. You look back at him as he looks at you hungrily. 

Suddenly Shanks brings his hand down on your barely covered ass, the sting making you jump and your tail to twitch. “Daddy!” you cry out from the spank. “I’m gonna break that little bunny cunt (y/n).” He lands two more strikes on your ass and grabs you by your hair to bring your back to his chest. “You wanted to act like a slut I’m gonna treat you like one little girl.”

He flips you over on your back and rips your bikini top and bottoms off of you. Shanks licks his lips and bites his lips at the sight of your fat tits and glistening wet cunt.He grabs your leg and pulls you to the edge of the bed. “You wanted my attention, now you’ve got it little bunny and since you’ve ruined such a nice day you’re gonna please me doll.” Shanks pulls down his pants and steps out of them, kicking them off to the side.

The sight of his hard cock making you drool and your horny bunny brain couldn’t take it. You got up from the bed and got on your knees in front of him. Shanks pets the top of your head, scratching the back of your bunny ears, “Good girl baby~ didn’t even need instructions, you know how Daddy likes it.”

You place small kisses all over his dick, licking and sucking all over his length. Remembering the taste of him all over your tongue. “Hurry up bunny,” He bucks his hips in warning. He’s still mad with you despite his earlier praise.

You take him into your mouth taking him as far as you could, shanks throws his head back in pleasure as you bob your head up and down. Your warm mouth is taking him so well, maybe if you kept this up he could reward such good behavior.

You continue to suck his thick cock, your only goal is making him cum down your throat. It’s almost as if your body was on autopilot, the familiar feeling of him, his body taking over your senses, wanting more of him. You start to take him deeper, wanting to please him and satisfy your craving for him. His cock hitting the back of your throat, you look up at him with your big doe eyes watching his eyes roll to the back of his head in ecstasy.

“Fuuuck~ that’s good bunny, keep making daddy feel good” he starts to buck his hips into your throat, as the pace of his breath picks up. His hand holds the back of your head urging to take him farther. You end up taking him down to the base, you feel shanks shiver and throb in your throat. His moans getting louder as he pushes his cock into your throat like his own personal fuck toy.

“Gonna cum bunny, take it all, take it all right now!” He spills his cum down your throat. You can feel his dick throb on your tongue as he lets every drop be taken in by you. You try to swallow all of it to please him. He slowly pulls his dick out of your throat, convulsing and panting heavily.

Shanks grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up for a sloppy kiss, drool and cum dripping down your mouth and tits as he kisses you hard. Shanks lays you down on the bed and rubs his thumb on your clit, making you moan into the kiss. He pulls back and looks at you with lustful eyes. “Such a good little angel you are, yet you always have to give me trouble, huh bun?” You moan in response just trying to get more stimulation from him. He chuckles and pulls away as you whine for him. 

Shanks pulls off his shirt and climbs back on top of you, pressing kisses to your face and the tops of your breasts. “You can keep being a good girl for me right honey?” He asks as he folds you in half, pressing your knees to your chest and lines up his cock to your went cunt. “Yes daddy I’ll be good! Just please fuck me~” You whine as he chuckles at you desperation. He slowly pushes into you as he watches the desperate look on your face as your cute cunny takes in his fat cock.

He swiftly pushes in bottoming out as his balls hit your ass. ‘OH DADDY~” you cry out as he starts a fast pace fucking deep into you. “There you go bunny, taking Daddy so well.” The sound of your wet pussy sounded off the wooden walls of the cabin as he fucked you in a mating press. Your cute tummy and tits jiggling from the force of his thrusts. Your eyes roll to the back and your moans echo out across the red force, everyone was sure to hear you even out on the beach. 

Shanks presses his weight on top of you as he takes his hand and grabs your chin to look at him. “Look at me little girl~” You try your best to focus on him and his eyes but with the way he was pounding you it was hard to even hear him right now but you managed to just for a split second. “You gonna make a mess for me sweetheart?” 

He could tell from the way your cunt was gushing around his dick that you were close. The tight fluttering around his cock like a vice made his damn near delirious.’y-yes daddy i’m gonna cum please let me cum daddy!” you plead as he looks at the slutty expression you were making on your face. “Then go ahead cum for me my good bunny” Shanks reaches between your connected bodies and rubs your swollen wet clit which makes you explode all over his cock and lower abdomen. 

You yell out his name in ecstasy as you spasm around his cock. As you come down from your high Shanks pulls out and swiftly turns you over. He presses your face into the pillows and lifts your hips and pushes right back in.

“Shanks!?” you cry out as he fills you so well, your pussy still sensitive from your orgasm not even minutes ago. “You thought I was done with you slut?” He picks up his speed and angles his hips to press into your spot inside you. 

Shanks pounds into your wet pussy, his hips slamming into yours as the sound of your ass reverberates off the walls.”Don’t you EVER disrespect me like that again princess, do you hear me?” You keep moaning and don’t respond to him so he thrusts into you hard with emphasis on each word, “I said. Do. You. Hear. ME!” He hits your cervix as you moan out in response, “YES, yes daddy I won’t do it again i promise I’ll be good!” He grabs your bunny tail and tugs at it in punishment. “I know you won't, sweetheart, I won’t be as nice next time~” Shanks speeds up as he feels your sweet pussy juices drip down his balls. 

All you can do is take it all as he fucks your brain into mush, you couldn’t try to think if you wanted to. From his heavy cock dragging deliciously against your sensitive walls. You could feel your release coming again as he pummeled your pussy.

“Gonna cum daddy! May I please cum?” You moan into the pillows as your release gets closer and closer. Shanks keeps fucking directly into your cervix feeling your tightness wrapped around him he wasn’t gonna last too much longer either. “Go ahead sweetness! Cum, make a mess!” Shanks pumps into you one last time as you both cum together.

Your legs finally give out from under you as shanks hold you to keep you from falling. He slowly comes down from his high and kisses your back as he pulls and lays you both down. 

Shanks pulls you close as you continue to cool down. “I love you little bunny~” He kisses your forehead and caresses your ears and you nuzzle into his chest. Craving his body to be close after such an intense afternoon. ‘I love you too daddy~” You fall asleep in his hold as you both bask in each other's presence.

Meanwhile…

“The boss sure went hard on little ‘ol (y/n),” Lucky Roux said as he ate at a table on the beach with Beckman and Yasopp. “Poor bunny probably won’t be able to sit properly for a while knowing how he gets.” Benn chuckles as he blows smoke from his cigarette thinking of the poor girl pouting from her hurt bottom.

“More like Poor Yasopp when the boss gets a hold of ‘im!” Lime juice pipes in as the crew laughs together. “Aw shit I'm screwed!” Yasopp panics knowing that shanks was gonna kill him no matter what he said!

#red haired shanks #Akagami no Shanks #shanks x reader #shanks <3 #one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x hybrid!reader #hybrid reader #x reader #i think i did pretty good! #hope yall like it #peachh works💗🍑

[popponn]

a duck, a prince, and the snow.

note: was gonna make it hcs but uh. ehe. here, smth similar for chigiri haha. this is two iq shower thought situation. warning: none, fluff, post canon/pro au, reader’s gender unspecified, undertone of morons friends to lovers, prince & duckling (affectionately).

reo loves you enough to marry you the moment you demand it. with rings, grand ceremonies, and an even grander honeymoon. but the thing is, you are way too oblivious.

reo tries everything already—praises, flirting, dressing in the way you like the most, asking you to go to your favorite places together, buy you everything, special treatment, and many more. at this point, it’s probably easier to mention what he hasn’t tried yet—with “straight up confessing” sitting at the top of the “no way not yet no chigiri no nagi no way” chart. some people actually think this is some new brand of masochism—trapping oneself in a friendzone, but most of them stop thinking about this after seeing your dynamic with him once. as in it really is that painful to watch.

in your defense, this guy is indeed generous when he wants to be. so he could give you a diamond ring and you could read it either as a bribe for something or a random gift for that tuesday. the worst thing is probably how you are so genuinely unable to think of the more romantic possibility whilst the giving party is more than okay with it. really, sincerely, from the bottom of his heart.

because you could go “oh reo you are such a good friend! let’s be friends forever!” and this guy would probably look extremely constipated for 0.1 sec then before you could see it, all you got is a doting exasperation expressed through a charming prince smile on his face. in the way that is not even “ah well too bad, but we can do it next time” smile, but an “oh, how adorable. i truly am in love with them” smile. rinse and repeat for three years and more, that’s basically how this hellish adorable loop goes. talk about a guy who is in love with every part of you—even when the part is denser than a black hole.

but, like every fairytale, this prince too deserves a proper happy ending, doesn’t he?

Under the illuminations and falling snow, you wonder why Reo chooses to be here with you, walking through the cold December night with groceries in his hands. You feel bad for telling him that you are out shopping alone now, or at the very least you should have accepted his offer to bring his limousine. It feels wrong getting him carrying your things considering everything.

“Reo,” you begin sheepishly, reaching out to tug his jacket sleeve lightly with your empty hand. "You really don’t have to do this, you know.”

Reo, somehow, looks like he takes offense to that. “Huh? Why not? I want to. Plus, just imagining you waddling like a duck with two heavy grocery bags…” Dramatically, Reo trails off with a heavy sigh. A cloud of cold breath fogs his lips for a moment, but not enough to cover up the teasing smirk that follows, “…yeah, at least I want to watch that.”

You immediately nudge his side with an angry huff, all while fruitlessly trying to step on his feet. Whilst Reo laughs with too much mirth on his face, he avoids your vengeful foot with a grace that truly belongs to a professional soccer player. Some bystanders who walk past the two of you spares some glances, but as long as they do not recognize Reo who hides his face and hair under a miraculous yet simple black cap, you feel like you couldn’t care about them.

“I shouldn’t have felt bad for you! I’m trying to be considerate to your hands getting cramps and cold, you jerk!” you hissed finally, jutting out your tongue just as an extra gesture, before adding another protest as an afterthought, “And you called me a duck for that!?”

“You are worried about me? That’s sweet!” Reo smiles in a way that is positively shit eating. Then, he nudges back to your side, an act that is pretty much imitating your previous action, yet clearly, much gentler as he lets his shoulder stay pressed to yours as the two of you continue to walk. “Come on, don’t be mad. That means I will still take care of you even when you are a duck.”

You glare half-heartedly at that. Even if this sort of conversation—idle, with worth only the two of you could understand—is not rare, you really wonder why he seems so bubbly today. With your steps and his once again falling into a synchronous rhythm, you curiously ponder out loud, “So, what happened?”

Reo tilts his head, in a manner that is subjectively cute to you. “Hm?”

“Today, what happened? You seem happy. Did something good happen in your meeting? Or your training?”

“Uh… eh? Not really, honestly. Nagi was feeling kind of down, and Isagi also seemed to be in a bad mood, Rin—the younger Itoshi, you remembered?” he pauses, looking at your reaction before continuing after your nod. “Yeah, so that guy also got really angry today. Overall, it was a mess, but nothing new. The board meeting, uh, yeah—the greedy old guys somehow get greedier today.”

“Seriously?” You wince hearing all of those. “That… sounds like a really terrible day… are you okay?”

Reo’s face shifts once again into a very smug look, which you shoot down immediately with a glare straight to his handsome face. Seeing your unamused look, the half-lidded brattish look he wears immediately crinkles to a very bright happy look, with a smile that is wide enough to turn his eyes into a pair of crescent moons. It is beautiful—you think to yourself, silently, softly.

“Nah, as I said, nothing new about that too. Plus—” Reo suddenly leans his head against yours, letting his cold cheek glue itself against your equally cold one. Nonetheless, you still squawk ungracefully. “—I got a really cute duckling worrying about me and walking with me romantically like this. I will call that it’s a winning day!”

“Really now?” you ask again, exasperated and not really understanding the meaning behind his words. It feels like you are missing something—but you can’t really put a finger on it. Paying no more mind to that thought, you continue, “So, paying for me, coming running to me, and then getting me to walk with a prince who also carries my groceries is a payback for being the cute ducking?”

“Clearly,” Reo says, familiar pride and softness lacing his tone. It makes you laugh. It’s odd, but as how being in his presence really makes you feel at ease, it does feel pleasant to hear him feeling so with just a walk with you. But, before you can let that feeling settle quietly, Reo goes on, resting his gaze on you in a manner that feels too fond and affectionate, “But, even if without all those, I will still come running to you.”

Yet again, you feel like you are missing something. There is a heat that crawls up from the inner chamber of your chest, thrumming and warm and wonderful. Dizzying and confusing, but often presents itself for Reo and Mikage Reo only.

“I… I see,” you stammer out, your voice unconsciously turning into one that is just a few notes away from a whisper.

You don’t know what Reo sees in your expression, but with it, his eyes gleam in a very tender manner. “Well, but you see,” he begins, his voice mimicking a mocking tone, “while this prince’s hand is one warmed with groceries, the other one is still very empty and cold.”

“Oh?” you muse, seeing where this is going.

Boyish and as charming as always, Reo reaches his idle hand to yours, intertwining his finger with yours. One could say it feels like a scene from a drama, one could say it feels like something written by hopeless romantics, but ultimately, to you the fact that it is Reo that makes your breath hitches. Suddenly, it is very worrying if your hands are sweaty.

Wait, are they—

“Now, the prince feels very warm,” Reo, oblivious to your predicament, states cheekily with boldness veiling his eyes.

“…the prince is a prick,” you reply, knowing your defeat. It is unusual of him to do something like this, yet there is not even an ounce of desire in you to protest.

“As long as the duckling is okay with it, is it really a problem though?” he says, leaning even closer to your face.

At some point, you know you stop breathing. And Reo realizes it.

It is probably then that the tension between the two of you suddenly closes down its curtain. Something flashes through Reo’s eyes. And before you know it, the hold he has on your hand loosened, as if giving you permission to pull away.

Then, a part of your mind says, “Who cares about the duckling and prince anymore—”

And to that sentiment, you raise an enthusiastic agree.

Because it is Reo, probably, you tightened your hold around his hand. Your hand might be sweaty, and you might not get everything that is happening—but you know enough that this feels like the right choice.

“I am,” you answer resolutely, looking away from him and facing your front instead. “I am very okay with it.”

You have no courage to peek at your friend’s—your companion’s expression. And so, you miss the way his eyes light up, realizing and catching something that you haven’t realized yet. Thus, you too don’t expect the way he tugs you into a halt, stopping your steps just a few centimeters away from his.

When you turn to him, you find Mikage Reo. His eyebrows are furrowed under his cap, his lips bitten and pouting at the some time. With redness on his cheeks, as good-looking and as princely as he has always been to you, staring at you with a seriousness that spells out determination and more.

“Can I—”

On the middle of the sidewalk, surrounded by crowds who don’t recognize Mikage Reo and you, the two of you stand still. The snow continues to fall and none of you bring your gloves. In such a scene, Reo’s eyes never once left you.

“Can I tell you something?”

add. note: was it cheesy? unnecessarily so. did i lost the prompt somewhere? kinda. is it xmas? uh. what is this? uh. could it be better?...yeah i think i had fun tho <3 hope u too <3 blame jinshi and how this part came out the smoothest. also if this is in reo's pov lmao it's a mess there.

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock imagines #bllk scenarios #bllk fluff #reo fluff #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage #bllk reo #reo x reader #two idiots are not kissing under the tree. but they will someday under the xmas tree #im really nervous everytime i write for this guy idk why skskksks it's fun tho

[goodbuckcharlie]

https://www.tumblr.com/goodbuckcharlie/744970952822095872/forbidden-things-jeremy-swayman-summary-its

ahhh love it!! part two would so goood!!!!! especially with steph, austin and mitch seeing how in love the two are

Warming up | Jeremy Swayman

Summary: Part two to Forbidden Things. Following up on their secret relationship no longer being secret, Steph, Auston, and Mitch start noticing how truly in love the two are

Warning: swearing, a little slut shaming (for like a second) and mention of blood/injury

Notes: I am glad people liked the last post :) I currently have a Cole Caufield x pro golfer story and a Luke Hughes social media Au both in the works but when I saw this comment I jumped back to this story. Let me know if you guys are interested in either one of those or idk maybe even a part two for my Nico story.

Steph definitely was the first to see how much Jeremy loved Mackie. She realized it at the family dinner that Mitch invited Jer to. It wasn’t even anything special, just watching how Jeremy interacted with the family, she knew he was the one for Mackie.

“So when Maddie set us up on a blind date, she forgot to mention that Mackie was the Executive chef at the restaurant we were going to.” Jeremy was telling the family how his neighbor who just so happened to be Mackie’s best friend, set the two together, “So we were served cold food ,like it wasn’t super cold, but Mackie definitely wasn’t happy. She excused herself and then went to the back. I could hear her scream ‘I’m on a date with a hot ass guy and you guys can’t do your fucking jobs? What the fuck do I pay you guys for!’ She then came back and acted like the whole restaurant didn’t hear her screaming. Let’s just say, I was ready to propose in that second.”

“Okay you are being a bit dramatic,” Mackie corrects, “You only heard what I said cause we were sat by the kitchen. The whole restaurant didn’t hear me scream.”

“Babe, the hostess looked terrified and the poor girl was on the other side of the restaurant.” Everyone laughs as Mackie gives a little pout, “Aw no need to get all pouty, I thought it was extremely hot. Still do.”

Jeremy pokes Mackie’s neck until she starts laughing.

“You know Jeremy, Mackie had a few boyfriends in high school, and none of them were ever able to hand our girl’s temper.” Mrs. Marner says while holding her husband’s hand and smiling in endearment, “They often called her too bossy and one even told her that her ego was unlady like.”

“Yeah Mitch was not happy when he heard that.” Mackie looks across the table at Mitch, who has been eyeing Jeremy, observing him like a Hawk, “When I came home crying, Mitch drove to the guy’s house and fought him.”

“This guy in a fight? I couldn’t imagine that.” Jeremy laughs and Mackie is surprised to see Mitch also laughing.

“Don’t get to excited bud, I lost that fight.” Mackie and Steph can tell Mitch is still hesitant about Jeremy, but it was a good sign to see the boys laughing together. Well until Mitch notices something.

“What the hell is on your neck?” Through the long day, Mackie never reapplied her makeup on her neck, so the darkest hickey is now visible.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s a burn mark from my curling iron?” Mitch gives Mackie the angry brother look and she automatically know that mean he doesn’t believe her. Luckily Steph came to the rescue.

“Oh Mitch calm down, you know we were doing that same thing when we were her age.” Steph manages to keep Mitch calm and civil for the rest of the dinner.

At the end of the night as everyone was leaving, the restaurant started to play one of Mackie’s favorite songs. She hides her excitement, but Jeremy notices.

“Dance with me pretty girl.” He holds his hand out.

“Jer we are at a restaurant, we shouldn’t.” Steph is the only who is noticing the interaction, but she can’t help but smile.

“Nobody is going to kick us out for dancing, plus who cares if they do, your restaurant is 10x better anyway.” Mackie takes his hand and they start swaying along to the music. Mackie giggles as Jeremy spins her around and they almost knock over a table. But they don’t care they are in their own world.

In this moment, Steph knew Mackie was right and that Jeremy was her one.

Surprisingly Auston was the next to approve the relationship. And it was a total accident.

It was March, a whole month since All stars, and the Bruins were playing the maple leafs in Toronto.

Mackie had stayed at home in Boston. Jeremy was missing her during the roadie, but he knew after this game they would be at home for a while.

Auston was just walking around the backstage of the arena when he walked past Jeremy on the phone.

“Babe you know you don’t have to call me to get permission to go out with Maddie.” Jeremy says while smiling at his phone.

“Oh I know I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“You are going to be the death of me.” Auston can’t help but eavesdrop. “While I have you here, show me what you are wearing out.”

Auston at first thinks the worst and thought that Jeremy was trying to be controlling, but his worry soon went away.

“Damn baby, you look so good makes me want to bail on the game and fly back home to see you.” Auston fake gags at Jeremy making comments like that to the girl he considers as little sister. “Is that my jacket?”

“Yeah Maddie wouldn’t let me borrow one of hers so I went over to your place and grabbed a jacket.”Austin wasn’t surprised to hear that Mackie had a key to Jeremy’s place.

“I would have let her borrow a jacket if she actually wanted to wear a jacket, not because our old ass neighbor was being a bitch.” An unfamiliar voice that Austin assumes is Maddie comes out of the phone.

“Maddie you said you wouldn’t say anything.” Mackie whines.

“Wait you guys are talking about that cougar that’s been trying to get in my pants since I moved in?” Austin can feel Jeremy get upset even as he hides in the corner, “What did she say?”

“She said, and I quote, you shouldn’t be going out like that when you have a man at home. It makes you look desperate.” Maddie said cause she knew Mackie wouldn’t.

“Fuck her. Mackie you look amazing in anything. If you like how an outfit looks, nobody and I mean nobody shall tell you different. Now take off my jacket and go have fun with Maddie, I’ll be there in the morning to nurse that hang over. And after that I’ll go talk to our neighbor, I’m not letting her get away with disrespecting you.”

That was all Auston needed to hear. He walked away satisfied with the conversation. Before this conversation, Auston didn’t think Jeremy and Mackie’s relationship was serious. Now he knows not only are they serious, but he now had a newfound respect for Jeremy.

At the end of the game, the bruins won 4 to 1. After his shower, Auston set out on a mission to talk to Jeremy. Luckily he finds him as he is heading out of the visitors locker room.

“Hey Swayman.” Jeremy looks up from his phone is surprised to see Auston.

“Oh hey.” Jeremy is a little skeptical, but knowing how important Auston is you Mackie he doesn’t question it.

“So I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but earlier I heard your phone call with Mackie.” He totally meant to eavesdrop but he wouldn’t admit it. “You’re a good man Swayman. And it might take a little more for Mitch to see it, but you really do love Mackie. And I’m glad she has someone like you.”

“Thanks Auston. You mean a lot to Mackie, so your approval is very important to her. And what’s important to Mackie is important to me.” Auston extends his hand out for a hand shake but Jeremy being Jeremy pulls him into a quick hug. “Now I got a plane to catch so I can see my girl.”

“We just finished the game and your already talking about that girl?” Brad Marchand hit Sways back and teases him, “You’re such a simp.”

“I’m a proud simp for Mackie Marner .” Both Auston and Brad laughs as Jeremy rushes out so he can hurry back to his girl.

Mitch by no means hated Jeremy and Mackie’s relationship, but the idea of his little sister dating anyone especially someone on the rival hockey team to his, didn’t sit right with him. But that was until, Jeremy did something that completely changed his perspective.

The maple leafs had just played the Bruins again this time in Boston. The leafs had decided to stay in Boston for a few days before leaving back to Toronto. So Mackie closed her restaurant for the day and decided to host both the leafs and the bruins for dinner. But a few things had gone wrong causing the girl stress.

It was the middle of the day so the staff had plenty of time to prepare everything. During this time, little things happened that all piled up causing Mackie to be on edge. Things such as some dropping knives or someone not following her instructions. She keeps her composure to the best of her abilities, since she doesn’t want to ruin the dinner.

Everyone started to arrive at 6:30 which was 30 minutes before the dinner started. Mackie doesn’t know because she is concentrating on the food. She is so concentrated that her staff even starts to worry about her.

“If you can’t chop it properly I’ll do it myself.” Mackie doesn’t mean to sound rude, but she doesn’t have time to apologize since her brain is currently running 100 miles per hours. She starts to cut veggies as fast as she can but because she is being careless, she cuts her finger. “Fuck, Eric please take over.”

She runs her hand under the sink hoping to stop the bleeding, but the cut was much deeper then she thought.

“Chef are you okay? you should probably get that checked out. It looks pretty deep.” Eric, one of the first chefs Mackie hired, finished chopping and check on Mackie. But as any girl can tell you, when you are trying not to cry and someone asks if you are okay or are you crying, you feel like you need to cry even more.

“it’s just a cut I’ll be fine.” She didn’t mean to raise her voice but her frustration caused her to do so. Jeremy who is talking to Mitch and Auston, hears Mackie and heads to the kitchen in concern not knowing that Mitch was right behind him.

When he entered the kitchen, everyone was working hard, but Mackie was no where in sight.

“After she yelled, she said sorry to me before she grabbed a cloth and ran off to her office.” Eric said standing next to the sink. “I can finish the dinner,but that cut of hers needs attention so could you try and get her out of the office.”

Jeremy quickly thanks Eric before heading to the office.

“Hey pretty girl, you wanna talk?” No response.

“Baby, we’ve talked about this you have to talk to me when you’re upset, we are a team.”

The door to the office opens and reveals a crying Mackie who is holding a bloody towel to her cut.

“I just wanted tonight to be perfect.” Jeremy pulls Mackie into a hug. “But before I got here Maddie and I got into a fight and I tried to ignore it to keep the night perfect, and then little things kept happening and now my stupid finger won’t stop bleeding.”

“Whatever you and Maddie are mad about I’m sure it’s nothing, you two are like sisters.” Jeremy sits Mackie down while looking at her cut. “And everyone out there loves you too, so no matter what you served us we would thinks it’s perfect.”

Mitch (just like Auston) listened in from outside the office to make sure his sister was okay but not to interfere in their moment. (Steph would be so proud)

“I know you are going to try and fight me on this but this cut is really deep. We should get you to a hospital.” Mackie shoots Jer a look of disapproval but before she can voice that disapproval, Jeremy stops her. “I will go get your brother and Auston, then we will carry you to the hospital.”

“Off the ice, I’m faster than all three of you.” Her confidence makes Jeremy smile in adoration.

“Seriously thought I’m no professional but how deep this looks I wouldn’t be surprised if you had nerve damage as well.” Jeremy has seen his fair share of hockey injuries as well has had to deal with his own so that is why this cut was so concerning.

“Could we go out the back door?” Mackie says through tears, “I don’t want Mitchy to see me cry.”

“Anything you want if that means you’ll go to the hospital.” Jeremy goes into Mackie’s purse and grabs a makeup wipe and hands it to her. “I know you’ll be upset if I let you go out with your mascara running so go ahead and wipe off your makeup as I go and tell everyone that you’re okay and where we are going.”

Mackie nods and Jer kisses her forehead before he leaves her office shutting the door behind him. He then sees Mitch.

“She’s alright.” Jeremy says not to relieve Mitch but almost as to relieve himself from his worry.

“I know she is, because she’s in good hands.”Jeremy is surprised when Mitch hugs him. It’s quick but still shocking, “She’s the most stubborn person I know, and that’s saying a lot because we are hockey players, but you are careful and collected with her. You are the one for her.”

Mitch tells Jer that he would handle telling everyone and to call him when the doctors know what’s wrong.

Despite the high stress of the situation, Jeremy couldn’t help but smile the whole time.

#hockey imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #jeremy swayman blurb #jeremy swayman

[charliehoennam]

home again.

A/N: request made here by @juniebugg and a nonny made here so i decided to mash these two together

Pairing: John Kinley x F!reader

Warnings: Language and smut. No minors, please!

Word count: 2,675

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

The dusty gravel of your driveway crunched under the tires of Declan’s truck. You didn’t need to look out the window to know who it was, but you wanted to see him. Make sure he’s alright.

You’d refused to pick John up at the military base. You didn’t want to be anywhere near it. It’d been months since he’d been away and you hated every single second he was gone.

You missed him more than anything in the world. Deep inside, you were thrilled he was finally home and, most importantly, safe. Part of you wanted to race out the door and throw yourself in his arms. The other part, however, wanted to slap him across the face.

Months of his absence – provided only via letters and shitty connections through phone calls or video chats that could never replace his presence – drove you insane.

The only thing that was worse was zero contact. Not knowing if he was dead or alive; that every car that drove by the house would deliver that dreaded folded flag. Sometimes, you questioned why he would want to be in the army in the first place, fighting a war that he has no fault in. How could he just leave you?

You’d thought it would get easier to live with after you got married. Turned out, it wasn’t.

John called out for you and spotted you by the window where he’d caught you staring out of just before you moved away to hide. He read your resistance right off the bat.

“Hey, honey” he smiled as he set his army green bag on the floor in the hallway. “Don’t I get a kiss huh?”He tried to joke to loosen you up.

There was definitely tension in the air that he’d detected even before walking in, but he wanted to avoid conflict on his first day home. He’d missed you just as much as you’d missed him; there was no doubt the distance was hard on both sides. Yet you felt he was to blame since it was his choice to reenlist. You were there. You’d always be there.

You pulled away as he tried to pull you into his arms and marched back into the kitchen where you’d been making his favorite: Fettucine alfredo with crispy bits of Italian sausage. 

“Something smells real good.” His attempts were getting nowhere. “Come on, baby. Is this how it’s gonna be every time I come home?”

“You could just stay home.” You shrugged as you continued stirring the pot of white sauce before dipping a spoon to taste-test the flavor.

“We’re really gonna do this? Again?” He scoffed running a hand over his tired face.

“Do you really expect me to be all bright smiles when you were literally gone for 9 months in the middle of God knows where? After 11 days of sheer silence, I just found 6 days ago that you weren’t dead, John.”

“I thought that would be something to be happy about.” His brows furrowed.

“I am happy you’re alive, John. But I did also spend 11 days thinking you might have been dead!”

“That wasn’t my fault! We got ambushed by an IED in the middle of nowhere. We lost the RV and had to trek through the goddamn desert. You think I wanted that happen?!”

“Then you shouldn’t have relisted! I just don’t get it! Why would you want to go back to that?!”

“You don’t have to get anything! You’re acting like this is all new to you! You knew I was in the Army before, that it wouldn’t change when we got married!”

“Maybe I’d hope it would! So crucify me for thinking that maybe my husband would want to actually be home with me after getting married!” 

Your argument only escalated after that. John was angry and you were furious. A blur of loud voices, searing tears and fists pounding on walls and countertops. At some point, he had decided to blow off some steam and slammed the front door shut as he left to have a drink at the bar. He didn’t want to get drunk or talk to anybody. He just wanted to get out of there before you’d both said things that couldn’t be taken back.

Sat on a tall stool with a beer bottle cradled in his hands, he stared into nothingness wanting to forget everything. However, his mind found itself returning to you. To your scent that lingered on his clothes after his hug. To your warmth against his chest and arms. Fuck, he missed you badly and he hated that he couldn’t fucking forget it.

After pushing himself off the stool, he drove home in silence and cautiously stepped over the threshold. His eyes scanned the house as he made his way in, searching for any indication that could explain your current state. But he found only silence. A daunting calmness in the shadows of the home as the streets casted their lights in attempt to chase the gloom. But when his eyes landed on a pillow stacked upon of a folded-up blanket, he shook his head and ignored your punishment.

That was his limit. The final drop to overflow the flood he’d spent hours trying to contain.

You tossed and turned in bed, wondering if you had gone too far. You reflected on his words. He wasn’t wrong. You knew the Army was important to him going into the relationship. You knew that when you said yes when he asked you to marry him. You knew that when you said “I do” at the altar.

He felt his blood boil again as he marched up the stairs with his pillow under his arm. The door flew up open and he strode into the room, avoiding your bewildered gaze as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You questioned angrily. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“The hell I am. I spent nine months away. I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

You could hear the tinge of impatience in his voice. He sat at the edge of his side on the bed to untie his boots and set them aside with a thud muffled by the carpet.

“You’re not sleeping here, John.”

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, but I’m sleeping right here.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?”

“Oh, I am huh? How about you? You’re the one that’s acting like a fucking child.”

You sat up in disbelief, ready for round two of your argument.

“Just don’t. I’m tired and I wanna sleep.” He stated as he laid back against his pillow, back turned to you.

“You think it’s fucking easy? You think it’s easy having you miles away, with no notice if you’re even alive? I thought you were dead, John!”

He was ready to snap back with his defense, but the tears building in your eyes warned him not to. Instead, his jaw clenched as he held his gaze on you.

“I spent night crying my fucking eyes out thinking you weren’t coming home this time! Just to get up the next day and pretend like everything was alright! Do you know how emotionally exhausting this has been for me?!”

He hadn’t thought about that. Guilt settled in his chest and started to build in his throat as he listened to your rant, which soon brought you to sob.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m home…” he whispered pulling you into his strong arms, wrapping them around you.

Any resistance you had melted away against his warmth. You gave in and buried your face into his neck.

“I’m home. I’m with you and everything’s alright. Everything’s alright now.” he repeated as he soothed you with gentle kisses on the crown of your head. His palm rubbed circles against your back.

Your body was yearning for him. He could tell from the way your nails clung onto his shirt. His fingers lifted your chin to catch your gaze.

“Look at me. I’m right here. I’m with you and I’m not going anywhere, alright?” he whispered with a thumb wiping your tears away.

“I got you, hm?”

Sealing his promise with a kiss, your body softened and accepted his kiss. Then his tongue. You could feel it building in your core. That familiar lust that had haunted you during his absence. That craving that couldn’t be quenched.

Like magnets, your bodies had lost against the invisible pull. His hands slipped down to your thighs, guiding them as you straddled his lap.  The heated kiss was unbroken until your hands tugged at his olive-green shirt to release it from the tuck of his camouflaged pants. You helped him pull it off over his head as he helped you remove the Pink Floyd t-shirt that once belonged to him before becoming your favorite nightgown.

 As your lips collided once again – more feverish than before –, your hands roamed down to unbuckle his belt. The metal clinked as it hit the floor. John wasted no time to lay you down against the mattress. You needed him and there he finally was to take care of you. God, how he’d missed your taste.

He whispered continuous praises as his bushy beard brushed against your delicate skin, peppering kisses down to your breasts. His mouth closed around your hardening nipples, suckling them with eyes closed to relish their fullness and warmth.

“My beautiful wife. Missed you so fucking much.”

His hand kneaded each of them as he squeezed your flesh to his face. He could’ve stayed there forever, but he was eager to please you.

He forced himself up as he stood back on his knees, sat against his heels. His gaze on you was loving as if admiring a sculpture he’d carved from his own dreams. “I love you” fell from his lips over and over again, like a prayer in between the tender kisses he pressed against your legs, lifting them to rest against his broad shoulders. He hooked his fingers into your panties and slid them up your legs and tosses them to the floor. His eyes locked on yours was more than enough to cause your core to puddle. You could feel the slick building with every kiss.

He wasted no time settling between your thighs, trailing his kisses over your outer labia. This was about making you feel good. Making it sink into your brain that he was finally fucking home.

With your legs bent up over his shoulders, he moaned as he buried his mouth against your plush slick flush. One hand slid up to your breast as the other locked its fingers with your own. You moaned and wiggled against him.

He devoured you and smiled to himself as he watched the way your body arched in pleasure. The salty sweet taste of you liquefied his insides. He could feel him twitching as his cock hardened on the bed. After months of bottling in all his desires and having to satisfy himself with his hand and a photo of you in lingerie, his thirst for you was erupting beyond control. He had to remind himself that this was going to be about you.

His hips began rocking against the bed at the sounds your body was making. He was so eager to fuck you, but he had to contain himself to make it last. Yet his hunger for you had his hips grinding against the mattress, aching for any type of friction he could get as he battled with his self-control. His cock spasmed in his pants with every gentle tug on his hair or scrape of your nails on his scalp.  

With his tongue building up your orgasm, it lapped over your folds and concentrated on the overly sensitive nub. He swiped and swiveled over it; the pressure in your depths grew into hot white pleasure. You weren’t going to last much longer.

The hand on your breast slid down your scorching skin to hold your hips firmly in place as you wriggled, wrestling against the implosion and failing terrible to resist until you finally caved in. Your body trembled as your legs shut on either side of his head. He smiled as he proudly admired your reaction, enjoying how quickly your chest rose and fell. The leaking precum from his dick was beginning to sink through his boxers and pants; he was almost certain he’d left a wet spot on the bedsheet.

He lifted himself off and was unable to wait any longer. He needed to feel you on his cock. Kicking his pants off provided you a moment to regain yourself and admired the way his muscles contracted under his skin. This big burly man was yours, all yours.

As he crawled back between your legs and aligned himself to penetrate, you both watched his head slowly push in through your soaking pussy in burning anticipation lathered with only the spit on his fingertips.

His eyes closed tightly shut as he bottomed out and held himself there for a moment, controlling his own increasing implosion.

You could tell he was struggling a bit between satisfying you both and giving into his own carnal needs. You cradled the sides of his face and gently guided him down to kiss him in an attempt to distract him from the wonderful hug of your cunt on his cock.

With an arm propped on the side of your head, he kissed you hungrily as his hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh and pushed your hips against his. His groin brushing on your swollen nub sent fireworks bursting through your nerves, forcing a shy moan from your throat. He smiled and pulled his head back to look down at you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As his lips latched onto your neck, his hips pulled back and slowly thrusted forward to begin his pace. Slow and gentle, but so deliciously full and stretched. You held your breath with every push and pull of his cock, clenching around it to hold him inside. You’d never let him go if you could. His cock in you made you feel so completed like this is where you both were meant to be.

His pace started to quicken. A sheen coat of sweat glazed your bodies in the cool blue light of the moon that rained in from the tall windows of your bedroom. The searing heat had begun to bubble from the inside out, oozing from your desperate desire to feel each other deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed out the open door and into the hallway. His balls slammed against your perineum as your wetness began coating the bedsheet underneath, staining it with remnants of love and lust.

With labored breaths, he hugged you tightly against him with his other arm. It was building up in you for the second time and you could tell it was building in him as well. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your toes curled against his hips. The tight embrace of your pussy as you came again had him frantically hammering into you as praises flooded out from his lips.

“Feel so fucking good for me. I-I fucking love you, baby. L-love you so much.”

Releasing you to lock your fingers together, he shuddered with a deep moan and slowed to a stop. You milked every drop. The hot load filled you with an incomparable warmth in your depths. Your walls were coated in his pearly white seed.

He panted as he held himself in your cunt for a moment longer until he finally pulled out and collapsed beside you. You turned on your side to face him. His hands reached out for you and pulled you into his arms. Perfectly nestled against his hairy chest, you smiled to yourself. His heart beating against your ear was the final reminder that he was home. He was here and he was all yours.

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #john kinley x you #john kinley x reader #john kinley x y/n #john kinley the covenant

[ruhorih4ra]

Hi! ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

First of all, I want to extend a very heartfelt apology to the fellow sheep that belong to the Anti-Lucifer League JAJAJA because this chapter is completely about the viejo sabroso.

What did you say? that my favoritism is showing? That's ridiculous.

(I promise all of them will have their own special moment with Mc, yes even the killer cow.)

I kind of thought I had already put spoilers warnings in the first part but heheh surprise! I didn't! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠> not much of a spoiler but I wrote the fic without explaining things that won't make sense if you haven't finished the game? (God I don't know but I think I did because I do that all the fucking time)

Part 15!

Get out of my way 🌈

“I hurt your brothers.” You said, curtly. Admitting it felt worse than you had expected. Your eyes were glued to your hands, avoiding those of the older brother, who hadn’t uttered a single word. “You were right when we met, I wasn’t and I am not trustworthy.” You couldn’t help the slight tremble in your voice. “I shouldn’t live in the house of lamentation anymore.” Lucifer remained silent.

“I shouldn’t be your master.” You finally said, feeling a pain in your chest that you were getting used to. You searched for Lucifer’s eyes expecting to see disappointment and anger, but to your surprise he had turned around and now you could only stare at his broad back.

He had turned around since your first confession, he was as much afraid to meet your gaze as you were of looking his. He knew you would be angry and ready to leave them as you should have since the first time he dared to threaten you. He knew it was for the best and wouldn’t have the nerve to deny you, not after he proved to be unworthy.

And then you spoke and he cursed the relief he felt, of course you would take all the blame, of course you would forget about their mistakes and the way they had hurt you too. You were like a mirror years ago, accepting all the pain and never asking why, forgive and forget. But Lucifer knows best, that path only has one end and the fall is long and painful.

The Avatar of Pride was tired. First, you wandered through the Devildom in complete solitude, getting hurt by who knows who without him being able to reach you, much less stopping them. Then, his brother almost died in his arms without him being able to do anything. No matter how hard he tries, the ones he loves the most are always out of reach. He looked at you and noticed how you had lost weight, another thing he had failed at.

“How old do you think I am, Mc?” He asked. The sudden question left you confused but you laughed nonetheless. “Jurassic Park brings memories?” You joked and he turned around with a small smile gracing his lips. “I’ll let that slide.” He walked towards the couch. “I’m very old.” Lucifer said as he sat on the sofa, next to you.

You smiled, still confused by the sudden change of topic, but decided to go with it, after all, whatever he wanted to say couldn’t be as painful as what you had to say. You took a strand of black hair, those few that were white at the very end, and replied. “I can see that.” Your eyes finally met and it wasn’t painful or filled with distrust. It was nice, simply nice. Both of you laughed.

“As I was saying, dear. I have lived for quite some time now. In fact, I am at least ten million years older than you.” Lucifer was smiling, caressing your hand with his thumb. You remained quiet, suddenly very aware of Lucifer’s face of fatigue and glassy eyes. “Naturally, my brothers are rather old too.”

You swallowed hard before removing your hand from Lucifer’s touch. As much as you wanted to go back to the same old routine, you knew it wouldn’t be long before the guilt ate you alive. “I don’t understand how this has anything to do with the fact that I hurt your family.” Your hand brushed the places that Lucifer had touched, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the demon. “I told them horrible things, you know that?” You watched carefully Lucifer’s face, waiting for his reaction. “I ordered them too, just like I ordered you to shut up.” The avatar of pride seemed absent, unamused. “I even thought of…” you forced the words out. “of hurt them, physically. Seriously harm them.” A couple of silent tears rolled down your face.

Lucifer wiped them gently, as slowly as he could, because he knew that was all he would ever get. “I think about physically hurting them almost every day.” Lucifer said, in a playful tone you couldn’t bear. “Stop! I’m not playing, Lucifer! This is serious, I tried and succeeded. I harmed them!” You hit Lucifer’s chest and, to your surprise, he stifled a whimper.

You came to a halt immediately, looking a drop of sweat slide off from his forehead. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” The prideful demon tried to get up but you were faster, or maybe it was just Lucifer giving up. You opened his already torn shirt to reveal a burnt wound of your pact mark, as if it had been branded with a hot iron. “What the fuck is that?” You stopped Lucifer from buttoning his shirt. “What happened? Tell me.” You fought a silent staring battle until Lucifer sighed. “You called us through the pact but it was…” the demon was searching for the right words but knew that the human in front of him wouldn’t listen. “It was uncertain. I don’t know what happened.”

You laughed bitterly. “You know what happened, you’re ten million years older, aren’t you? What happened, Lucifer?” He rubbed his face. “It’s not your fault.” You put your hand on his chest, pressing slightly harder. He winced in pain. “That’s not what I asked.” You said. He took your wrist but made no effort to stop you. On the contrary, he pushed your hand further into his chest. “It’s not your fault.”

You looked into his eyes as you pressed more. “...” He was clearly surprised, but it was difficult to express it since he was fighting the urge to scream. “Very well, Mc. That’s enough.” An immediate expression of relief reached his face the moment you removed your hand from his thorax. “I appreciate the romantic gesture but I want to know the truth Lucifer.”

“That’s the truth, it wasn’t your fault. You called us but it wasn’t on purpose. It was a reflex. Not a spell, but directionless magic.”, “So I hurt you even when I didn’t mean to.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “The only way you could do it.” Lucifer thought but he decided to keep that to himself.

“Mc, we have lived through worse.” The avatar of pride took your chin and forced you to see him. “We can endure this and more. What about you? What we did to you.” You pushed his hand once more. Lucifer tried to bury the pain he felt every time you decided to avert his touch, but it didn’t hurt any less. “Don’t be stupid, Lucifer. What did you do? Replaced me?” You gestured with your hand before he could deny anything. “And so what? I should have acted like a normal person and just leave.” You said. “Instead of developing a damn curse.” You thought, bitterly.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave.” He knew that was selfish and unfair, he knew he was no better than a little kid throwing a tantrum. “I can’t say the same.” You murmured.

You had called Levi more than the others, you had wanted to see him so badly and perhaps that’s why he almost died. It was ironic and twisted, but now it was obvious. The Little D. of envy really did a number on you and that little show he threw. You fell into their trap like a fool. The more you thought about it, the more anger grew inside you. You would get your revenge, all of those little demons would pay one way or another.

You were starting to regret having stopped Lucifer from leaving when he wanted, once again the conversation ended in nothing good, what you had wanted to say was left unsaid and forming a big and painful lump in your throat. You saw Lucifer from the corner of the eye and your heart skipped a beat. You had to make sure you weren’t seeing things. “You want to leave.” He said, letting you cup his face and watching your gaze full of worry, and once he looked at himself through your eyes he found out why.

“Don’t cry, Lucifer. I’m going to cry too.” You saw a single tear slide until it reached Lucifer’s soft smile. He had cried before, when his brothers were sleeping and silence was unbearable, when he is alone with a life full of memories, painful memories. He knows the art of suffering, the art of breaking down in solitude. However, it had been a long time since he had cried in front of anyone.

“Just because you can endure it doesn’t mean you have to.” You said, recalling his previous words. “Love shouldn’t burn.” The picture of that burn on the demon’s chest refused to leave your mind. Lucifer straightened up and took your hands again, hoping you wouldn’t reject him this time. “This unfortunate incident got out of hand.” He cleared his throat and you rolled your eyes, still finding comfort in Lucifer’s mannerism. “As an ancient and very wise demon, you should really trust my words.” You let escape a little laugh and hummed in response. “Love shouldn’t burn but it does, not always, but there are times, and even after touching the flame we tend to admit that it was worth it.”

“I know you’re not looking for metaphors and I’m not trying to sugarcoat my words. We hurt each other badly. There are no kind words to face the truth but, regardless of how selfish and naive I sound, I’m confident that we can fix it.” He tried to caress your cheek but ultimately decided against it. “I know I can fix it.” All the worries of the past few weeks were finally getting to him. You murmured Lucifer’s name, it was evident that he was crumbling.

“I assure you that I’ll never let this happen again.” Another round of silent tears fell from his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore, you extended your arms towards him but, this time was his turn to move aside from you. “It’s okay, I’m fine. You don’t have to force yourself.” He said, already regretting his next words. “I know you don’t want me to comfort you, I know you’re not fond of my touch.”

You frowned. “Why do you think that?” You questioned, but Lucifer didn’t want to answer, he was afraid his voice would fail. He didn’t want to show you more of this pitiful side of him. His silence forced you to think, looking back at your previous interactions you realized that although not on purpose, you had still avoided his touch several times. “Lucifer, how can you believe that?”

“Is it not true? Don’t you repulse the idea of me approaching you?” He knew how needy he sounded. He also knew lacking confidence wasn’t his style and probably not what you would expect from the Avatar of Pride but it didn’t matter, he wanted to know.

Looking at an imperfect Lucifer was always unnerving, you’ve seen him before and it never ceases to amaze you how even when he’s crumbling he looks ethereal. Although you didn’t hate it, you preferred his more full-of-himself self.

“I don’t know.” You replied, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. “What does it look like, my morning star?” you rested your forehead on his, amused at Lucifer’s surprise. He cursed how infatuated for you he was, both the searing pain from his wounds and the memories of your rejections immediately faded when he felt your hands in his hair. It had been a long time since he saw heaven, but your eyes were more than enough to evoke it. “It seems that you pity me.”

He looked how you closed your eyes, a small and genuine smile gracing your face. “Now you’re only pressing your luck, love.” You said, unaware of the happiness you had aroused in him. “Say it again.”

“Now you’re only pressing your luck?” You pretended to be confused. He narrowed his eyes, feigning annoyance at your teasing but it was no use, once he let you see his soft side you could see through all of his facades. “Please?” He asked and you nearly gasped at how ridiculously innocent he looked.

“You’re a real menace, love.” You whispered in his ear and so did he. “Look who’s talking.” He was quick, one hand on your hips while the other cupped your chin. He was slow, your lips were as close as they could be without touching, a clear request from the demon. “Do you still think I don’t like your touch?” You questioned, lips slightly brushing as you murmured.

Lucifer wanted to kiss you, his grip on your hip was tight and his breath was uneven. You drove him crazy. He was certain that you wanted him to initiate the kiss, to show him that you wouldn’t back away, to force him to hang from your hand on the cliff. And so he did. He kissed you, slowly moving his hand from your hip to your back. Enjoying you as a fine wine but drinking you like a thirsty man.

Once that the kiss was broken you shook your head, hugging him and rubbing circles on his back. “I’m sorry, Lucifer, you must be very tired.” He cried against his will, the only way he knows how to. His trembling figure was holding onto you tightly, hiding his tears and shame. “I won’t leave the Devildom, I won’t leave you.” You said softly, trying to put all the love you had into those words. “We can fix this together.” He had stopped crying, soon after he laid his head on your chest. “I apologize for this uncalled for display of weakness.” You pinched his neck in annoyance and he complained with a low growl. “Enough with the fancy attitude. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I love it.” You reassured him, hurt to see him so broken. “I love you.” You said, wiping away his tears. “I’m sorry, I was cruel before.” He shook his head and a long suspire escaped him. “That’s my line, Mc. I said awful things, words I didn’t mean.” He frowned again and you resisted the urge to kiss his discomfort away. “You want to say something else, don’t you?”

“I won’t leave, but I want to stay in Purgatory Hall for some time.” You said, not without hesitation. Lucifer looked directly into your eyes hoping to see some explanation. “You don’t think we can keep you safe.”

“That’s not why.” You hurried to say, watching Lucifer distraught face. “But you won’t tell us who attacked you.” Lucifer moved enough to see your face.

“But surely Barbatos already knows.” You laughed dryly. Did Barbatos really know? Was it possible for him to see the Little D.s in those multiple rooms of his? Did the butler look at them to know the truth? Did he see the past? You felt embarrassed at the mere possibility. Perhaps that was for the best, all of this could finally be over. But where would that leave you? Useless, pathetic, stupid human who couldn’t even defeat their own demons. You watched your hands, useless. You are supposed to be a bridge between the three worlds, you have seven pacts with some of the most powerful beings in hell, your master is the most powerful sorcerer of humanity, that should mean something but… does it?

Are you really special or just a consequence of circumstances? If you couldn’t be of service, if you prove to be weak and incompetent, wouldn’t they be better off with someone like Sc?

But you love them, with all their flaws. You have loved them above anything, putting your own life at risk for them. You didn’t love them because of their intelligence, their strength, or their status. You love them because they were they. They should love you because you are you. So why? Why did they replace you despite all the love they claim to feel? Why did they choose to spend their time with Sc? Why did they treat you like that?

“Is it because I’m not as good looking as her? Or is it because I’m not smart enough? Perhaps I lack what she has to spare.” You saw how Lucifer’s face wrinkled in confusion, of course, he couldn’t read minds (as far as you knew), he wasn’t aware of all the twists and turns you took to end with that question. “What are you talking about, Mc?” You got off Lucifer’s lap and sat on the sofa again, still close to the demon.

“Because she would be a better council officer than me?” You said but your voice was flat and you sounded gone, bored even.

Suddenly, it clicked for Lucifer. He remembered again the face that Mammon had made when he told him how you had lost your trust in them and the sincerity and complete security he had seen in that gaze, because it wasn’t something that his younger brother decided to believe, no, it was something that he could feel, after all, he was painfully honest for a demon. Lucifer had tried to dismiss it, to cling onto that tiny possibility that you still had faith in them.

He wanted to cry again, because his heart threatened to burst out of his chest, probably angry for being forced to belong to such a prideful demon. He wanted to cry because he knew you didn’t trust them, but more than that, you didn’t believe in their love.

“It’s fair, Mc. If you don’t want to believe me when I say that I love you, that I would die for you at any time. It’s understandable and I’ll accept it for now but don’t compare yourself anymore, love. Please, let me protect you.” Lucifer desperately wanted to erase those words and stupid beliefs from your mind, he wanted to remove the blindfold they had accidentally put on your eyes, to let you see just how irreplaceable you are.

You shook your head, your jaw tensing at the inhuman effort you were doing to keep looking into Lucifer’s eyes. Not because it was painful, but because you were afraid of those blurry black spots you could see out of the corner of your eye.

You could see the five Little D.s surrounding you and Lucifer, you knew they were looking at you with eyes as wide as their smiles. You focused on Lucifer’s eyes, beautiful and calm, full of grieve and hope. The same hope you were clinging on. “If you want me to trust you, it’s only fair that I ask you the same.”

Lucifer knew he was egotistical, he himself hid things from you so that you could continue living without a care in the world, so you could be safe. That’s what he’s supposed to do, not the other way around. You should tell him who was responsible for hurting you so he could show them what he’s capable of, what true fear feels like. “Besides, I wouldn’t tell any of you, unless I want a bloodbath in the Devildom.” The Little D.s’ laughter filled the room, you could still feel their eyes on you.

“Why would you want to protect them?” The Avatar of Pride asked, he couldn’t fathom how anyone would show that level of mercy, but if there was someone capable of, it would be you (he had no doubts). You, on the other hand, were building a slow but solid thirst for blood. You were not defeated, you had let yourself hit hard ground but it wasn’t over. They are your demons, yours to haunt, yours to kill. “I’ll stay here for a while. Are you going to be okay without me?”

“No, I won’t.” He simply said, pondering his options, perhaps he should intervene with a direct approach. Maybe he could lock you up until he finds out who hurt you, securing you until he can keep an eye on you at all times. Never let you go more than 5 inches away from him. Always close to his reach. He laughed, passing a hand over his tired face. “Father really knew something when he kicked me out of his place.” He thought. “I’ll be waiting for you, love.” He said instead.

Even if he wasn’t by your side, he would keep an eye on you, taking care of you from the distance until he could earn your trust back. This storm would pass too, he was sure.

“I promise it won’t take long.” You hugged Lucifer again, facing The Little D. of Pride’s face. Smiling at him, a cold and unwavering smirk. “You just wait and get ready, okay? No takesies backsies!” You sang overly sweet, The Little D. of Pride laughed and spoke silently too. “No takesies backsies!”

The face of Lucifer was priceless, a shame that you couldn’t see it. He was completely taken aback, confused to the core by your strange change of mood. He felt like he was on a roller coaster or maybe in an intricate story that he was unable to follow, much like those ramblings Leviathan does. He opted to remain silent, firstly because he didn’t know what would be an appropriate response to “No taksies backsies!” but, most importantly, because he was trying to hide the sinister hunch that, as impossible as it seemed, you were not talking to him.

Part 17???

Taglist: @yuumaofc @kodasstar @sadlily1 @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @owl778 @unknownbish101 @pinkvelvetcake1 @bontensbabygirl @exrellian @kaiserkisser @cutestpatoootie @makulitsiava

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me fandom #obey me gn!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me angst #obey me mammon #obey me barbatos #obey me leviathan #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me little d

[starsandhughes]

Chemical— Jack Hughes

based off chemical by post malone!

MASTERLIST

warnings: swearing, overall angst, toxic relationship, allusions to smut, jack is NOT a good boy

word count: 1.7k (wow i wrote a “short” one for once! who am i?)

You told yourself that you were done with Jack. You two were toxic for each other. Half of the time, all you do is fight with each other. But the other half? That’s what made you stay.

The other half of your relationship with Jack is having fun and feeling relaxed at the same time at a party together. It was the dates on rooftops with your favorite wine as he drank his beer. It was how well he knows your body. It was how well he knew you and how good he could treat you. It was the “I’m sorry” daisies every time after a huge fight. It was the soft look in his eyes and his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear every time you apologized.

You love Jack. You shouldn’t, but you do. It didn’t matter how many rules you set up for yourself; the second you saw him, all of them flew out the window. It breaks you that you love him. But you need him. You need love.

If you were smarter, you wouldn’t have come to Dawson’s party. But you were a damn fool for Jack Hughes and just couldn’t help yourself.

“I thought you two were off again,” Dawson said as he came up to you with a drink when he saw you arrive.

“I never know what we are,” you sighed. “I told him last week was the last time—“

“So was the time before—“

“Shit, Dawson, don’t you think I know that?! I told him it was the last time for sure this time, but I don’t think he believes me.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p.’ “I love him, D, I really do. It was a stupid fight—“

“It’s always a stupid fight,” Dawson interrupted you. “What happened this time?”

— — —

Jack slammed the door of your apartment when he came in. He just got home— well, to your home, after his overtime win and instead of being happy like he normally is, he was raging.

“Everything alright, babe?” you asked cautiously.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, y/n,” Jack spat.

“O-okay,” you stuttered. You weren’t sure what you did wrong this time. “What happened?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Jack asked. His voice was venomous. You knew it was a trick.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Jack,” you said shakily.

“Really?” Jack scoffed. “You don’t know about that guy you were flirting with all night?! I saw you during the media breaks! Am I not good enough for you?! Is that it?!”

“What? Jack, that was my coworker! We were just talking! He knows I’m with you!” you argued.

“Yeah, because a girl having a boyfriend stops every guy,” Jack rolled his eyes. “This is so typical of you! All you do is deny, deny, deny!”

You were shocked, exasperated, and overall pissed off. This is typical of you? No. This is typical of Jack. He jumps to extreme conclusions and doesn’t trust you for shit. Now, you don’t exactly fully trust him, but you cower down when you don’t. No need to give Jack another reason to be angry. That’s love, right? It’s all you knew.

“I’m gonna go,” is what you chose to say. You didn’t know what to say, let alone how to say it.

“Go?!” Jack exclaimed, sounding panicked. “No, no, no, babe, you don’t have to do that. We’ll figure it out like we always do.”

He stepped closer to you and slowly brought his hand up to your face. He cupped your cheek and softly smiled a smile that you couldn’t tell if it was real or not, “We love each other. We can do anything.”

There was that word again. Love.

Was this really what it meant? Was it really nothing like the books or the movies? That couldn’t be true, because how else would those writers get those ideas? It had to have come from somewhere.

“No, this is the last time, Jacky,” you mumbled as you slowly backed away from here.

“Sure it is,” Jack scoffed. “Just like how last time was the last time?”

“I mean it this time!”

“Then why'd you call me ‘Jacky?’”

Your face turned red from embarrassment. Of course you slipped out a nickname.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you said, feigning confidence. You didn’t know for sure. Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. All you know is that you needed to get out before you caved to those blue eyes again.

– – –

“You’re right,” Dawson sighed. You two were leaning against the wall and your body was leaning against his. “That was a stupid fight.”

Luckily, Jack wasn’t here yet, so you felt fine and free.

That should be a red flag. Hell, your entire relationship is a red flag. But you felt like you needed love. You felt like you needed to be told “I love you” to be worth something, and that hearing it from a friend wasn’t enough.

Dawson pulled you out of your thoughts by nudging you, and when you looked up, you spotted Jack entering the house. With daisies.

Jack took a moment to find you, and when he did, his eyes were filled with what you assume is regret. He didn’t smirk, he didn’t smile brightly as if nothing was wrong, he looked like he genuinely felt bad. Dawson let out a quiet sigh, knowing damn well what was about to happen.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” Jack said softly. “Can we talk? So I can apologize.”

“In the car?”

“Yeah, babe,” Jack smiled, “In the car.”

This is how it goes. One or both of you fuck up, either he brings daisies and gives a half assed apology that you cave to immediately, or you beg and ask him what you have to do. It’s not a healthy relationship, but sometimes you two can go a couple months without a fight. You love each other. You work it out every time. One look from him and you break down and break your “last time” rule.

Jack opened up the car door for you before walking around the hood to get into the driver's side. You two weren’t going anywhere; you just needed out of the loud and crowded party to “talk.” And by talk you mean light up a joint and zen out enough to forgive each other without a second thought. The first time he’d suggested it his reasoning was that “we’re our true selves high.” You don’t fully agree with that now. You’re not your true self. You’re just vulnerable. Needy. Willing to do anything for him. For the oxytocin chemical to make you feel okay. For love.

“I’m sorry about accusing you of cheating,” Jack said, sultry in his voice. He was leaning on the center console, his piercing blue eyes locked with yours. “It just killed me to see you laughing with a man I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way,” you responded.

Jack gave you a smile that almost felt like a smirk. He knows that he has you in the palm of his hand. He gently caressed your cheek, “Let’s not do that again.”

All you did was nod before his lips crashed into yours. Your post make up kisses were never soft. They were raw, and rough, and left your lips bruised. Jack tugged on your lip with his teeth as he pulled away. He winked at you when he saw your pout, “We’ll finish this later, baby girl. Promise.”

You two made your way back into the party and everyone knew what went down. You smoked, you made up, you came back acting like a different person. Every. Single. Time.

“Well if it isn’t the happy couple,” Dawson said.

You knew he was faking it. Jack clearly didn’t as he threw his arm around you.

“We have our moments, but we love each other. Don’t we?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “We do.”

It felt off this time. You didn’t feel the high like you normally do. Maybe the high was finally wearing off. There’s no way that could be good.

Jack kept his promise that you two would continue your car affairs when you got back to his place. You tried to talk first, but that didn’t go too well.

“Jack, something seriously needs to change between us,” you said as you were being pulled to the bedroom. You weren’t fighting it. You wanted it. But you also wanted to talk.

“Jack, we should talk fir–”

“Baby, I just want to treat you right,” Jack said sweetly, cupping your cheek. “We can talk after.”

Typical. Every time you’re ready to make a change, he turns around and fucks out all your brains. Maybe this is fate. Maybe it’s too late for you to act like you deserve better. Maybe this isn’t a mistake. Maybe the mistake is questioning everything.

Everything that you wanted to talk about left the front of your brain the second he went down on you. The second you heard “be a good girl for me,” it was over. Because that’s what you wanted to do. Be a good girl for him. Inside and outside of the bedroom.

Watching his eyes as he thrusted into you was breathtaking. His bright blues turned darker with lust, and he’d always lean down for a kiss anytime he caught you gazing into them. His eyes had the power of a siren. And you were their prey.

“I love you,” Jack said when you two were laying down on your backs, still feeling the bliss of the release.

“I love you, too,” you whispered.

Maybe if you didn’t say it too loud, your mind wouldn’t give you a chance to question it. But at this moment, the dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin were too strong to make you question it. The chemicals convinced you it was real.

You couldn’t let go. If you felt this happy with him for a good chunk of the time, the love had to be real. Questioning it was ruining the happy feeling. You want to keep this happy feeling. Maybe the fighting was good. You always felt the most loved after making up from a fight. You two were young and hot headed, but you had time for that change. You and Jack have been together for years. You didn’t know how to be without Jack. You didn’t know who you were without Jack.

You can’t let go. It’s chemical.

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #dawson mercer #hockey imagine #jack hughes au #jack hughes blurb #nj devils imagine #nhl imagine #jack hughes jail

[annahxredaxted]

OKAY OKAY OKAY

sam & sweetheart sibling ramble

just so we’re all clear this is just MY version of sweetheart you don’t have to agree and you definitely don’t have to ridicule.

(i am southern so i am definitely projecting a bit)

so if you know me you know my interpretation of sweetheart and sam is that their siblings.

sam left when sweetheart was 9-10 ish

their parents had sam YOUNG like teenagers

but they had sweetheart when they were like late 20s early 30s

sam left bc of abuse yadayada

they were reunited and you can find my other post about that here.

but they have another brother..

***

ANYWAY TIME SKIP TO CURRENTLY

Sam,darlin, sweetheart and Milo and sweetheart are at a random bowling alley and they’re all having fun.

it’s milo’s turn and sam is getting drinks

darlin is sitting down and sweetheart is just watching when their gaze is looking round and they see an ODDLY familiar face with a few people

it’s their brother, hunter (they have conservative, abusive AND southern parents let’s be real)

hunter is a informed unempowered but he’s basically a pro and very knowledgeable of magic and magical races.

hunter is the middle child, sweetheart being the youngest. sam being the oldest

sam came back and saw sweetheart looking shocked and almost scared

he turned and saw him and was very confused

hunter is an asshole, their parents favorited him bc he took the family trade etc

sweetheart ran to the bathroom and was just nervous, milo turned to see something was going on and sweetheart was upset.

milo did NOT like hunter, he cursed him out for a bit .

“what the fucking hell did you say to them asshole? who do you think you are?” he pushed hunter by the shoulder, sam had to stop him.

hunter has a southern accent as well but more diluted than sam’s.

tank was behind milo but definitely ready to throw hands.

sam remembered when he reunited with sweetheart a few years back and they had a very similar reaction.

sweetheart had been abandoned by their family a few times. and it’s hurt milo and sam to see them like this.

“what did i do?” hunter would start and sam would scold him (like the older brother he is)

“do.not.start.” sam would say VERY angrily

“i thought you guys would be happy to see me..” he would be VERY sarcastic.

sam nudged him angrily

“why do you think you can just waltz back here just because- (sweetheart) wasn’t prepared for that!” sam scolded again

“well i didn’t mean to sammy-boy it just happened.” sam would scowl “oh get over it they’ve always been a crybaby.” hunter would say again.

MILO WAS NOT HAVING IT

“you better take my mates name out of your mouth before i put my fist in it.” he got ANGRY

“mate? well that’s hilarious.. (sweetheart)? keeping a relationship? please.”

sam had to hold milo back to keep him from pouncing on hunter.

“down doggy”

suffice it to say sam let go of him.

they got kicked out…

sweetheart came outside and their face was tearstained and they were breathing heavy.

“milo what— hunter— why—“ they were shocked to see hunters nose bleeding and milo with a bruised fist.

“sorry sweetheart i just—“

they were almost disappointed, but they were definitely in a bad mood.

all three of the siblings were standing side by side and their resemblances were uncanny. it was almost funny.

“woah..” darlin whispered.

“lets just go home.” sweetheart whispered grumpily.

hunter sighed, almost upset like he felt bad.

“(sweetheart)—“

“i don’t wanna hear it hunter..” they blew him off..

sam looked angrily at hunter again.

milo and sweetheart went home- not without sweetheart reading him the riot act about how he shouldn’t have punched him how he wasn’t worth it.

“what the hell were you thinking coming to the place you knew we were?” sam spat

hunter didn’t have an answer

“it— i— i haven’t seen y’all in a while..” hunter whispered embarrassed his accent making it hard to hear him with all the mumbling.

sam almost felt bad for him.

“do us all a favor and go back home. your not wanted here, go help dad and be the golden child.” hunters head dropped.

sam almost regretted saying it but he held his ground. hunter walked away.

•••

WOWZERS IT FELT GOOD TO GET THIS DOWN.

erm this is kinda a fic sooo

Taglist:

@darlin-collins @shellssstuff @itsdaifuku @verrverii @youisagayhooman @kuteheadrest @glitchedvariety @hobiesrockstargf @mrsmiagreer

#sam and sweetheart siblings #personal headcanon #redacted asmr #redacted milo #redacted sweetheart #redacted sam #redacted darlin #redacted oc #oc; hunter #hunter: sam and sweethearts brother

[rainbow-beanie]

*Breaks door down* SO! the season 4 specials has suddenly been released a few hours ago, and as usual I’m here to ramble talk about it. Starting off with wukong, who is very much alive being as childish as ever /pos

My favorite scenes and screenshots from lego monkie kid season 4 special: part one

THAT WAS SUCH A SIBLING MOVE OH MY GOD- he really doesn’t have any respect for authority huh 🤣

fricking threatening to throw crayons at pigsy is pretty funny cause, having raised mk the moment he showed up on his doorstep, I’m pretty sure pigsy’s been through much worse.

Also absolutely love the face macaque makes here, has just arrived and already has regrets XD

It’s pretty interesting how macaque was the one to suggest tagging along with mk, (cause I had theorized that he would) and having him essentially give him a lesson about how things had went down with wukong makes a lot of sense, also macaque getting onto mk about how he barely knew anything about wukong’s past made me laugh, cause i can imagine after this is all over macaque would sit him down and lecture him about it. If tang hasn’t tried already.

My precious baby!! so hopelessly naïve about the world, him announcing, straight off flower fruit mountain, about how he can talk like a human now, and that he’s the monkey king had me simultaneously grinning and cringing at the same time, cause of course he would do that XD

THIS PART FRICKING SHATTERED ME- *aggressively points* IT’S DOUBLE BOUNDARY MOUNTAIN!! ITS DOUBLE BOUNDARY MOUNTAIN!!!

Interesting choice to have him chained underneath/against the mountain as opposed to being trapped underneath it. But taking creative liberties with it is fine too. I am suddenly reminded of the time I was obsessed with the angst potential that came with wukong being trapped underneath the mountain for five hundred years.

NOOOOOOOO WUKONG DON’T BE MAD AT MACAQUE HE’S JUST TRYING TO HELP!!! 😭

You know, I can sorta get why he was mad. It’s hard being angry when you know what happened was 100% your fault, and knowing that only makes you angrier. Cause the last thing you would want to do at that moment is look inwards and go “you know what? This is my fault, and I shouldn’t be biting people’s heads off for things that they had no control over.” Cause anger is sometimes illogical, and if there’s no anger all there would be left is nothing but hollowness and a deep sense of self hatred, like I’m sure this took place at least a few years during his imprisonment, so his emotions were still raw and his ego had just taken a massive beating, so I’m sure wukong had plenty of time to think things over after macaque left. But at this moment he just wanted to be angry.

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid season 4 special #lego monkie kid season 4 special spoilers #monkie kid #sun wukong #nehza #nehza the third lotus prince #tang #pigsy #six eared macaque #mk

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part seventeen - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: violence ; gore ; violence against women ; nsfw ; blood ; near death experiences ; angst

The washcloth wipes foamy soap off of his collar, shoulders, adam’s apple. 

His hand cups her hip, fingers careful not to dig or pinch and make her giggle or squirm; resisting puckish urges. For now. 

“Did you want this?”

“Hmmm?” He presses his cheek into the  purifying damp of her attention.

“When you started doing this, did you know what it entailed?” 

“What age did you start school?” 

She ignores her confusion, and answers him. 

“I was very young when the Ruska Roma adopted me. Before that, I either had no concept or a very limited one about childhood normalcy.” 

“And the Ruska Roma took advantage of that by making you a weapon?”

She provides this conclusion so easily, and, although he knows it’s true, he’s spent a lifetime trying to avoid directly admitting it.

He always seems pensive, but this expression is something harder than that. 

“Sorry.” She looks away from his face. 

“Do you think I’m angry with you?” 

“I.. can never tell,” she admits.

“So, you assume?” 

She shrugs abashedly, looking up at him through the soaking rainforest of her hair. He wants to pull her from that underbrush and make her stand in the open canopy where he can wholly see her. 

“You just sound like you don’t actually want to answer these things, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s hard for me to talk about it. I’ve become so accustomed to my life that rationalizing it seems pointless. Better to just do.”

“Block it out?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t you just keep me a secret, then?” She asks, gathering more water from the sky and then wringing it onto his stomach. 

“I wish it were that easy.” 

“I’m glad it’s not.. I don’t really want to be one.”

He lays a soft kiss to the divot behind her ear. “I wish I was a banker or something boring like that,” he admits. “I never wanted that before, but now I do.” 

“But, I think that your trauma makes you yourself. I think it did that for me, at least.”

“I disagree.” John pushes her heavy hair out of her face, then does the same with his own. “I think that you are who you are in spite of the trauma. It’s simply something you must endure, and either you’re strong enough to do that, or you’re not.”

“I don’t think I was ever strong,” she says.

“Forgive me,” he replies, tugging her hips closer, “but that’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Sorry, I-“

He stops her by saying her name. Quiet, calm, captivating. “You’ve already said hello to me today.”

She chuckles. His new little inside joke is that her favorite way of greeting people is the word “ sorry .” And he’s not wrong.

“I feel bad for myself too much,” she concludes. 

“I think that once you endure enough hardship - and it seems that you have - you get a pass to feel badfor yourself every once in a while.” He matches her smile.

“Even you?” She asks.

He sucks at his the inside of his cheek, eyes doubtful.

The uptick of her mouth turns smug. “Thought so.” 

She’s too wonderfully cheeky for him to resist giving back. He frames his hand out over her chest, fingers resting at her collar. Her pulse quickens under the heel of his palm. 

“But you should give yourself credit,” she continues, trying to forget how nervous he makes her. “You’re literally a hero.”

“Hero?” He wonders, the meat of his thumb pressing into hospitable flesh to find her collarbone and work at sore pressure points. 

She nods. “You are. Saving those kids. You don’t know that? That you’re literally a comic book - textbook - hero?” 

It shouldn’t be funny, because her face is oh so serious, but he’s smiling as if hearing some amazing joke. “Am I a hero? Do textbook heroes kill people?”

She ignores  - tries her best to ignore - the scary mask that he fronts. “That doesn’t change anything, John. You’re a good man.” 

He contemplates this. 

“Cold blooded psychopaths don’t try to convince people they’re dangerous,” she tells him. “They want others to assume the best about them.”

“Do I try to make myself seem dangerous?” He wonders. Usually, he’s very self aware. Her telling him this means there’s a fissure in that confidence. 

She continues to bring out the worst and best in him.

“You don’t really have to try to do that, I guess. But, it’s for the right reasons.”

“You think so?” He searches her face and finds doubt. “Because it looks like you’re questioning those words as soon as they come out of your pretty mouth.” 

She sighs, frustrated with his accuracy. “Maybe I’m just not saying anything right. What I mean is, you’re - “ she tries to look into his big brown eyes without cardiac arresting - “you’re… my hero.”

He seems to be easily and immensely amused by this conversation, while she’s fighting for her life over here.

“Oh, am I ?” He asks.

She evens the playing field and leans up while dragging him down to latch her mouth onto his own. 

He aims to help this endeavor, grabs under the globs of her ass and lifts her into the air. 

She detaches her lips, a wet sucking pop mixed with a sound of frustration and surprise. 

Before she can say something about slippery bodies and weight balance and dying in the shower by falling, he has her voice again. 

She can’t get a good grip around his hips with her slippery legs. Even though he has her steady, it’s daunting to not be able to hold herself up in any way besides a faltering grip around his neck.

He uses his own weight to press her back against the shower wall, and then hikes her flailing legs up where they’re supposed to be. 

She gasps away from his mouth, and he kisses over her jaw, onto her hair, above her earlobe. “Can’t get away from me here, can you?” He asks, haughty voice making her toes curl and ache.

She opens her mouth, and he makes her yelp instead of talk, biting into the sensitive flesh above her jugular. 

“Not a word about the stitches,” he warns. 

Handsome Bastard . She holds her bottom lip in her mouth to keep from moaning while he licks and sucks and nips and scratches with his facial hair to get her flesh sore. 

She’s so nice everywhere - not a piece of her unpleasant to touch or taste.

“John,” she whispers, watching his dark crown of hair as he trails his flattened tongue along her collar.

He earns giggles and sweet sounds of pleasure when he kisses up her neck and sucks at her cheek. “Can you be inside me?” Her voice, small and careful, rings loud inside his ears and vibrates his mind with sweet chiming bells of salvation. 

His fattening tip twitches just shy of the soft tuft of hair on her pussy.

Despite wanting to sink into her and never surface again, he asks: “you wet enough for that?”

“We’re in the shower,” she giggles. 

“Water isn’t cum.”

“I know- oh, nh .” He latches onto her pulsing artery and sucks plentiful blood to the surface of her skin. “Joking.”

He smiles, plops off, kisses the big welt left behind. “I know.” His grin is cheek and tongue. 

She puffs at him. 

“Lemme tease you a little bit,” he asks, beautiful eyes soft and convincing. 

She shifts. “Yeah, okay.” It’s fine, giving in to whatever he wants, because who wouldn’t?

His big mouth leaves overlapping marks in her skin - her neck, collar, the middle of her chest, a bite mark on her sore jaw.

He licks a rogue tear from her cheek, letting her know that he can tell the difference between crying and stray droplets from the shower head, much to her dismay.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, kissing her eyelashes and her forehead and the sensitive, scrunching bridge of her nose.

“You’re beautiful.” Her voice is breath and want. 

“No.” He shakes his head like that simply just will not do. “Tonight, you just say thank you .” 

“I’m not allowed to compliment you?” She still has the gall to be obstinate, which means he has more work to do. 

He shoulders through her palaver with a raised brow. “When I compliment you, I want a thank you, John.”

She bites her lip.

“Any protests, and I’ll make you start complimenting yourself.”

Sounds humiliating. She nods quickly in agreement. “Aren’t we wasting Marcus’s water, though?”

God, he wants to distract her until she can’t be concerned about anything other than whether she gets to orgasm or not. It’s probably not possible, to make her forget about the plight of those around her, but he loves a good challenge. 

He chuckles and rests his head on her shoulder. 

She kisses his wet hair and holds his heavy skull. “Take me to your bed?” 

“As the lady wishes.”

She takes time to boldly trace the scars on his back while he towels off, loving the goosebumps cresting over his taut flesh. 

“What do you do for fun?” She asks. “When you’re not working?”

“I’ve always wanted to restore books,” he answers. “And I’ve dabbled in that.”

“Restore books?”

“It involves leatherwork, stitching, Fude pens for calligraphy and art outlines. It would be easier to show you.”

She reaches up on her toes to kiss the howling wolf etched into his shoulder. “That would be great.” 

“Something that might interest you a little more - I used to make puppets.” 

“I’m interested in whatever you do, but I definitely need to hear more about this. Like, the freaky little guys - those puppets?” 

He laughs. “More primitive. Think of sown dolls with button eyes.”

“Why?” 

He turns to face her, wipes stray droplets of water off her chest. “I like putting things together and then taking them apart. Especially children’s antiques.”

“Have you ever gone antique shopping?” She reaches to swipe the hair from his eyes behind his ears. It falls right back. 

“I have.” 

“So, if you owned a house, it would be full of kid’s antiques?” She imagines a cozy bungalow filled with glimmering gold, silver, and candy painted toys.

He thinks about it. “Something like that. And what would your house be full of?”

“I want pets,” she says, “dogs, cats, maybe a bird or a lizard?” 

“I’ll take you to the Bronx Zoo. You’ll love it.” 

The longing for normalcy in his expression breaks her apart.

“I would love that,” she agrees. 

—-

She snuggles her damp hair into his soft pillows and puffed comforter - inhales his scent from the sheets and feels deliciously engulfed by the big John-coated sanctuary. 

He follows in not long after, climbing on top of her to get her giggling and pliant.

He nips at her ear, making her gasp, and uses the opportunity of her open mouth to push his tongue against her teeth. 

Swallowing palms find her breasts, thumbs and fingers feathering the skin above and beneath. 

Writhing under his touch, wrapping her arms around his neck, trying to think about breathing and majorly unsuccessful - gulping and wheezing for air when he breaks their kiss.

“You know how wonderful you are?” He asks. “How absolutely kind and selfless you are? How everyone you meet walks away feeling full and loved?”

He emphasizes his praise with quick, urgent kisses to her face. 

“I-“

He interrupts with a click of his tongue to remind her, “Just say thank you .”

“Thank you, John.” Her insides give a useless little cramp at the sinful blaze in his eyes. 

“Oh, and these - “ he pinches her nipples with the center of his palm. “These were made just for me.”

“Thank you, John.” 

“Do you want me to lick your pussy?” He asks - coos - makes her hump the air like a dog in heat with the unanticipated question and the soprano tilt in his usually monotone voice - almost taunting - mimicking - her own pitch.

“A-are you sure?” 

She looks up at him through her pretty wet eyelashes, mouth sore and red, cheeks plump, adorable, sweet just like honey straight from the hive, and of course he’s sure. What a silly question. He’s never been so sure about anything.

“Sure?” He asks, nuzzling into her nose and biting the air above her lips. “I’m fucking starving .” 

“You know I.. haven’t shaved,” she warns.

He kisses the worry off her lips. “It’s okay, baby.” 

Mouth leaving fire and want on its path down her chin, John licks through the sore marks left over from his mean teeth, kisses each shoulder, noses down her chest. 

She wriggles her fingers through his wet hair, hooks onto his scalp - something to do with her hands while he becomes distracted and enamored with her tits.

The way he licks over a peak and then suckles on is enough to get her keening - he absolutely doesn’t have to look up at her through his lashes and smile while he does it.

She’s clamped onto her bottom lip to keep strangled noises at bay, grinding into the solid meat of him.

Thick fingers tuck between her thighs. He pushes her open, helps move her legs so they’re spread wide by his torso. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, using his other hand to fluff the pillow under her head. 

She nods yes, so he spreads her pussy open wide and catches her shy clit with pressured fingers. 

It feels strange - she’s so used to her own touch that his larger hand is too much at first. 

But this beautiful man, attentive and patient, asks her to tell him what she likes and what feels good. 

And maybe she’s dooming herself by instructing him on where to press and rub, but pretty soon she doesn’t care anyway; he’s a fast learner, and it takes only a little coaching to get him on the right path to her ruining.

He tries to memorize her all at once, watches the way she climbs higher and loses grip, gives her a little boost up and a soft kiss to each peaked nipple to help her hold on to the daunting cliffside.

Even through the thick callous of his hands, he feels the pulse of arousal under her skin. The seeping, Dewey wet all the way up to his knuckles that he needs to taste sooner rather than later.

“Does that feel good, honey?” He’s pampering her, babying her with tiny kisses and hums and sweet words. 

“Y-yeah.” Her head tips back, the silky bridge of her throat jumping, while the rest of her soft body curls around him, wound and tight and overwhelmed. She’s never felt so small compared to another person - never thought she would want to feel this small. Not just his size, but the way he makes her completely pliant and vulnerable; it enthralls her, and she needs more. 

He licks her calf, lifts her leg to kiss her ankle, speeds and slows. 

“You want my mouth here instead?” He asks, swirling slippery fingers outside of her clit, broad and then concentrated, giving her no real rhythm. 

She nods eagerly. 

“Yeah?” He’s breathy and high toned like he’s the one being teetered on the edge of a devastating release.

His voice would have tipped her, but he’s pulling away and replacing fingers with cool air, then the purposeless pressure of his broad, solid body. 

“John.”

He kisses and licks at her tummy, making her giggle and try to get him away from ticklish skin. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, nuzzling his cheek and temple into her softness and making her laugh and jerk.

“You- no one has ever gone down on me before.” She looks away from him, embarrassed, feeling foolish and inexperienced.

Instead of laughing or rolling his eyes, John groans. What a privilege to be blessed with, being the first person between her thighs. What an honor bestowed on him by the universe, ruining her for any other tongue that dare try and replace him. 

“Baby,” he says, “it’s okay, I’ve got you. Let me take care of it, alright? I’ll be nice, I promise.” 

Once again, who could tell Adonis no? Not her. Definitely not. 

He regrets not taking up painting as he looks at her. Spread before him, slack and flushed and beautiful and wanting - he needs this image immortalized on canvas. 

“Hand me a pillow?” He kisses each thigh, then the sheltering plump below her belly, causing her hips to twitch up to meet his waiting mouth.

She grabs one, drops it, picks it back up, then drops it again, this time close enough for him to grab on his own. 

“Lift your hips up, gorgeous.” He’s already lifting her himself before she has time to help, though.

When he moved into Marcus’s guest room, the door had an intricate locking system and a deadbolt backup in case that failed. 

John greased his hands and looked over the setup with Marcus’s permission - he wasn’t happy about it, walked away grumbling about how he knew enough to check the locks in his flat - 

and now, while John’s sharp ears attune to that tiny click of the spindle and the quick, muted scrape of the shaved strike plate getting scratched by hard plastic - he’s grateful he did. Because Marcus had done a magnificent job of installing quiet locks, but that type wouldn’t alert you to someone breaking and entering like they were doing right now.

Before she knows what’s happening, they’re on the floor. He rolls sideways, making sure to land on his back, wedges them tight between the wall and the bed, then flips her over so that his body shelters her own. 

A bullet bites the ident where they previously occupied, digs through the bed and rains fluffed cotton down around them like they’re on the losing end of a pillow fight.

She has a moment to watch him tighten, the whole length of him like a tensed spring. He grabs a sheet and wraps it around his knuckles. Another bullet smacks into the wall and adds sharp plaster into the mix of stuffing and fabric on the floor around her, and John clears the bed in one leap. 

Blood stains the sheet, transferring from the forearm of their attacker. She’s covered in it, bright and fresh. Marcus . He outweighs and outheights her, but she’s small and quick; able to move the gun out of reach of the blanket before he can trap it inside. This shot hits the ceiling and flings shrapnel down on the fight. John grabs her open thigh, wraps his makeshift weapon around her, pulls up so hard that he feels her spine crack. The main intent was to trap her leg and then smother her - have the sheet be in two places at once - but suddenly she goes limp and paralyzed, probably not used to the stretch in her body, so she just breaks from it instead. 

She’s young, and she snaps in half and screams in agony and he thinks about the severity of sadism it must have taken for someone to send an inexperienced, unassuming, woman here to do their own fucking dirty work. 

The sharp hilt of the gun slams into his shoulder blade, and he merely grunts, drops her to the floor and caging her in with his thighs. She flings the gun again, screeches and gurgles muffled by the encasing sheet. Her legs are completely still, dead weight. He grabs the gun from her flailing hand and muffles 3 quick shots into her head. 

—

She doesn’t have to worry for long, because he’s back, pressing his hand against her neck and barely breathing hard. His hand is warm, damp, sticky, and she wonders if it’s blood.

“Are you okay?” He asks her.

“I’m fine,” she nods, scraping her face against sharp nuggets from the wall. 

“Stay here, right here.” 

He shuts and locks her into the room. 

She can’t hear much beyond the door. Waiting is flooding her with anticipation. All this adrenaline and nowhere to put it; her body is visibly shaking. When the door opens back up, she braces, but immediately John is telling her that it’s him and that she’s okay. 

“You have to get up.” He helps her to her feet, smooths her down, grimaces at the scrapes on her cheeks. “We have to go.” 

“Go? Go where?” He’s already handing her dirty clothes from earlier, pulling on his own slacks and shirt and shoving weapons into their respectful places.

“Later,” he says, not looking at her, face stone again. She pulls on her pants and shirt and coat and shoes, shoves her underwear and socks into her pocket.

Marcus is in the dining room, the blood inside his femoral artery dripping onto shiny wooden floorboards.

John tries to take her to the car, but she insist on going to Marcus and wrapping him into a tourniquet, first. 

She uses John’s belt to stop the bleeding while he stands guard over them, gun aimed just below his chin and pointed at the door. 

Marcus, his agonized pants making her feel terrible about tightening and tightening the leather on his thigh, goes azure and slack. Beads of icy sweat trickle down his neck, and he looks like he’s dead, so she reaches up and feels his pulse. Faint, dull, thready. “John.” 

He’s right there, kneeling beside her, giving the belt one final twist and then fastening it off. 

“I’m going to carry him,” John says, voice too level for what they’re dealing with. “I need you to stay behind me and get into the car as quickly as you can. Then, you lay flat on the backseat with your head under your hands.”

John’s grateful that there are no more hostile parties in or around the building, although it just makes him want to lodge a bullet into the person stupid or malevolent enough to send a lone assassin here to kill him and Marcus. 

The mistake is already made, but he should’ve kept her alive for questioning. 

———-

“Have either of you ever heard of tact?” Winston grumbles. He flips the lid of the coffee pot and pours himself a generous helping of the wafting water. 

Marcus and John look at each other, but don’t answer. 

Her mouth, which she thought was permanently molded into a frown, perks up when Winston pulls a teabag from his robe pocket and dips it in the mug. 

He catches her smile, and matches it. “Would you like some, my dear? Calms the nerves.” 

“Um, how much are teabags?” She asks, reaching for her wallet. 

Winston holds up a halting palm. “Please, every service I have here is free of charge for you . What do you like? Earl grey? Black? Green? We have plenty.” 

She nods her head in thanks. “Green would be fine.” 

When her cup arrives on the silver, delicate dining tray, she thanks the waiter, and offers John some. 

He shakes his head no, looking almost bored - but maybe just exhausted - chin in his palm and eyes droopy. 

She wants to ask if he’s alright, but Winston talks enough for the four of them combined.

“So, you just tell her everything - a poor, sorry recount at that - and expect her to take it. What? Well?” Winston points this inquiry at John, who looks annoyed.

“I’m sorry we’re not scholars,” Marcus cuts in. “And he - “ he points at John - “told me to do it.”

“She needs to know,” John adds. 

“And have you told her exactly why that is?” Winston asks, sipping his steaming tea. He looks from one man to the other, and sighs. “Thought not.” 

Marcus rolls his eyes, dropping his head into his bicep with an exaggerated groan. “If you would have just hit her in the head,” he tells John, voice filtered through the cotton of his Continental provided robe, “we could find out who the fuck she’s working for-“

“She’s dead,” John says flatly.

Marcus laughs. “Captain fuckin’ obvious.”

“And you just keep talking,” Winston tells Marcus. “You never stop.”

She wants to defend John, only because he hasn’t even really said anything this entire time, but there’s something about Marcus that promises he has a rebuttal for every protest and quip. Plus, he’s being very nice to her and she doesn’t want to ruin it. 

She sips her tea and shuts up. 

They sit in awkward, uncomfortable silence for a long time. Marcus is so still she actually thinks he’s fallen asleep, and John’s eyes closing while he settles more of his weight into her side means he’s not far behind. 

She’s just glad he’s taking time to unwind, even if that means he’s involuntarily sleeping while doing it. 

Winston settles back into the cushions, and directs his attention on her. “What did they tell you?” 

She recounts the tale. 

Winston purses his lips, thinking. “Okay,” he nods. “Have you ever gotten into trouble because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Think so, yeah.”

“I’ve been manager at this establishment for over 30 years. We have an unspoken pact, and it’s that if a civilian wonders in, we politely direct them off hotel grounds and ask them not to visit again without membership - membership here meaning involved in the trade of gold currency.”

“Like the coins that John gave to the doctor?” she asks.

Winston smiles. “Exactly. Now, the only individuals that have access to that type of payment are ones involved in our world - under or around the high table.”

“The high table is the organization that you all serve?”

“ That’s the keyword, here.” Winston’s eyes shimmer with the excitement of a master storyteller. “Some sit at the table, some don’t know the table exists, some avoid and ignore the table, and some - most - live under it. However, everyone serves the table.

Marcus most likely led you to believe that stepping foot on my hotel grounds was the reason that you gained the table’s attention.”

“They didn’t exactly say I had the table’s attention.”

“If you’re here, you have the table’s attention.” Winston gestures around. “The high table is me, the high table is John. The high table is the blood running through the veins of everything and everyone you see here. And of course, if you so much as touch my steps, someone takes notice. But, often.” Winston drinks. “Often, merely wandering in is not the sealing of a fate.”

“Then what is?” She asks. 

“Your association to Johnathan.” Winston nods at the resting furnace who she for sure thought was asleep. John’s eyes slit open and he makes that sound like a guttural growl again. Like the kind of noise you’d hear walking into a hungry tiger’s den. 

Winston continues bravely, unaffected by the warning, and acting as if John is an ornery cat rather than a huge beast with claws and teeth. 

“You encountered him on the sidewalk,” Winston explains, “and in that moment, his association with you solidified throughout a network-wide radar of dangerous people. He knew it was too late, and it was. Really, he should have just brought you right in to meet me then. But, as I’m sure you’re well aware, John tends to think with his heart rather than his brain.

The rotten brat you met in our private suite was Viggo’s son.”

Her eyes dilate and burn. “John’s boss?”

“Employer.” Winston fixes the ties on his red robe. “And now, correct if I’m wrong, Johnathan, but the Tarasovs have offered to protect her in exchange for your service?” 

John’s voice sounds like he’s fucking pissed. “Yeah.”

“So that’s why Viggo wants me to host a symposium.” Winston raises his eyebrow and drinks the rest of his tea.

She looks to her own cup, sitting on the chaise lounge untouched and cold, and feels guilty, so she gulps some of it down despite the bitter taste of herbs and leaves steeped too long. 

“No.” John’s word is firm. 

“Oh, Johnathan, it seems that you think you can have your cake and eat it, too. As if this hotel - your life - wasn’t built on compromise. So, let me provide her the options, because you’re too stubborn to take one and live with it.”

She feels him burn beside her, the sweltering heat of his anger, the uncontrolled rage that he whips back into place so very well. 

“My options?” She asks.

“Unfortunately, yes, my dear. And I’m so sorry. Your options. First one.” He pauses, sits up straight, and leans toward her. “You never speak to or look at this man again. You change your hair, your face, your name, move to a different country and develop different habits and find a new career. Assisted by me, of course.” 

She cringes away from him, while John tightens his grip on her shirt reflexively. 

“Second option: You live under the table with the rest of us and deal with the hand you’re dealt. Don’t mistake this option for simple, because I can assure you it’s more drastic than the first.”

“Third option.” She startles at the timbre voice so close to and vibrating her skin. “Anyone touches her, I kill them.” 

Winston sighs at John like he’s dealing with an angry teenager. It makes her wonder if the man is actually John’s father, although he did tell her he was an orphan, so that wouldn’t make sense. He looks back at her, eyes greyed with a warm, tired wisdom that solidifies her trust in him. “I think you’ll need to sleep on it.” 

Marcus speaks, alerting them to his wide awake status throughout this conversation. “Winston, does the hotel offer room service? The kind that will keep me warm? My date stabbed me.”

#john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x plus size reader

[aries-rp-corner]

During the scuffle with Dimah, Lamont meanwhile was spending time in the Museum. Checking out the relics, but his most favorite were the ancient stones and fossils. Admiring their uniqueness and wondered what they hold during the ancient times when Pokémon truly ruled the lands.

Holding the letter close to see it was an apology letter… he knew who it was from, and didn’t bother to open it. The man was still angry from what transpired…. “I know what that lad was doing, I’ve learned his battle tactics… I somewhat agree that I should of… been better…” He spoke to himself, holding his arm as a form of comfort. Looking up to the skeleton towering before him. “I… shouldn’t have left the group… I didn’t want to hear that a child being used as a weapon in someone’s eyes… who she believed life holds no meaning…. Like the man I fought so hard to convince what he was doing was wrong…. Only to have it blow up in my face he made me do something that…ugh….”

He pinched his forehead, all of that clearly damaged him mentally… walking out of the museum to see night approaching. Carefully putting on a hat as he began to walk back to the hotel, looking side to side, front and back to see if he’s being followed… for now, he was safe….

Upon arriving back the entrance of his room, he felt a heavy dark energy waiting for him on the other side. He knew what this was, as that quickly made him leave the spot out of fear. “Leaving so soon?~”

A voice echoed, Lamont looked back to see a ghostly hound phasing through the door.. but what spooked Lamont the most was the voice… no, sure this can’t be… he was told Veda was dead and turned into a hound like beast… surely! I can’t be!… right? “No…. You died…. She made sure of it!…. You can’t be…”

“I am, dear brother.~” The Hell Hound Veda smiled horribly, as this caused Lamont to run for his life. Hearing claws tapping the floors and heavy steps followed as well, Veda is on the hunt. “YOU CAN’T RUN FOREVER!!~ I’ll make you regret EVERYTHING you have done!~”

Lamont didn’t want to know what Veda has in mind, he needed to get out. FAST. Flying down through the halls and stairs to reach outside for his Pokémon to defend him. He can feel his team shaking with fear and anger, truly ready to fight and defend. After finally reaching outside, Lamont turned as he sent out Fang who roared with rage as Veda emerged outside as well. “I don’t want to think about what you’ll be doing to me, but I know it’s NEVER going to happen!”

Fang instantly charged at the beast, causing Veda to move out of the way and charge at Lamont. “If I can make you kill a pest, I can certainly do it again!” He lunged at Lamont swiftly as the two met the ground. “Come any closer you pathetic fossil, and I’ll make sure your trainer meets his true end!”

Fang growled deeply, even a slight movement caused Veda to sink his claws into Lamont. Causing him to yelp in pain. Fang had to back away, yet Veda forced the T-Rex back into his Poké Ball. “There we go, now then…~” The hound turned over to meet his brother again. “Now… let’s get this over with, and too bad no one will see you on the other end.~ Enjoy the view, Brother.~”

All Lamont could remember was that he felt he was being dragged out of his own body and thrown to the side. Awoke to see golden stars on him, but what scared him the most was he can see through himself. “V-Veda! What did you do?! What have you-” Lamont then gasped as he witnessed Veda entering his body… slowly rising up as he sees his body taking a deep breath. Finally his head turned over with a sick grin. “This… This can’t be happening! This has to be a nightmare! Veda! GET OUT OF MY BODY!!”

“Annoying that only I can see you, but what will you do? You can’t do shit.~ Thank you for the proper body, dear brother.~” He turned over in time to see people rushing out of worry for the old man, causing Lamont to scream and yell at them that this is not really himself… yet… nothing… until….

“The Witch… Aries!” Lamont thought as he began to run to find the Frigate. Causing Veda concern, yet at the same time… an idea…

#pokémon rp #pokémon roleplay #tag: team cipher troubles #tag: Veda’s Vengeance #tag: Brothers of Light & Dark #tag: Lamont’s Requiem

[giggly-squiggily]

Hello there! If you don’t mind can I request rengoku as a big brother/important platonic figure comforting a younger reader? It can be tickles or not, I would just love some comfort from him. Have a great day or night! :]

MY HEART! *sobs* Oh my, I love this so much! Anon, I've gotcha covered! I decided to go straight fluff for this one :) I hope you like it!

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps)

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @backy-san @t-wordiiish @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @giggly-toybox

“(Y/N)!” Arms wrapped around you from behind, lifting you off the ground and sending you spinning. You were immediately engulfed in the smell of firewood, Rengoku’s laughing voice filling your ears. “There’s my favorite person! How are you today?”

“R-Rengoku! Put me dohohwn!” You laughed, unable to fight off the smile pulling at your lips. “I’m goohhonna get sick!”

“Can’t have that happening, can we?” He put you back on your feet, gently turning you around so you could look him in the eye. Seeing your face however, his usual smile faltered. “Are you okay? Did I spin you too much?”

Just like that- it all came back. Your smile fell as you averted your eyes, focusing them on the worn material of his sleeve. “No, you’re fine.”

“(Y/N)...?” Rengoku gently prompted, his brows furrowing the longer he looked at you. Then he pulled you into his arms, resting his head against your crown as he pressed you into his chest. “What happened, firecracker?”

His nickname for you made you tear up, but you didn’t want to cry. “I’m just…do I hold you back?” You asked against his chest, hating how choked you sounded. 

“What?” The next thing you knew, he was holding you back some, staring with wide eyes. “What- how- who-” He blinked owlishly, clearly taken aback by your question. “What..what brought this on?”

You shrunk at his confused expression, averting your gaze as you looked at your sleeves. “I got back recently and went to report to Master Kagaya as always. When I got there, I overheard Shinazugawa. He was saying that I shouldn’t be here, and that I’m just burdening you.” Tears welled in your eyes, blinding your vision. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to will them away. “The worst part is- I know he’s right. I am a burden to you, Rengoku. I’m not nearly as fast, and I can’t kill as many demons as you, and you always have to come help me-”

“Hush.” Rengoku cut you off, his voice uncharacteristically angry. Startled, you fell silent, watching as he kneeled before you. “Don’t ever say those horrible things about yourself again, firecracker. They are not true.”

“But-” You began, but a sharp look from Rengoku shut you up. He softened after, taking your hands in his.

“You’re not a burden to me, (Y/N). You never were, and never will be. The fact you’ve become my Tsugoku is more than evident. You’re strong, smart, and you think differently than I do, making you an invaluable person to team up with. Don’t let your weaknesses blind you from your strengths.”

“But Shina-”

“Shinazugawa’s got a sharp tongue and a terrible lack of tact.” Rengoku spoke with a weary smile, squeezing your hands. “He only says these things because he doesn’t want to see another young life lost. That doesn’t mean he should say them, however. The next time I see him, we will be having words. Don’t you worry.” He grinned brightly up at you, giving your hands a little shake. “I’ll make sure he makes it up to you, or else- he’s gonna get it.”

“No that’s fine, I was eavesdropping anyway-what do you mean get it?” You were quick to shake your head, pausing at the last part. “You’re not going to fight him, are you?”

“But of course! To hurt one’s Tsugoku like that is a great offense among us Hashira. I have to teach him a lesson!” He released your hands, only to shoot them forward to give your sides a squeeze. “Like this and this and this and this!”

“Ah! Ahehahhahahaaha! Rehehehehen, pleahhahahahse!” You burst into giggles doubling over at the tickly touch as you clung to Rengoku’s shoulders. “Dohohohohon’t!”

“Hehe, and you thought that was bad? Then I’m gonna give him one of these!” He pulled you into his arms, tugging you down into his lap as he bear-hugged you to the ground. You laughed as he blew a loud raspberry against your cheek, squeezing you with all his might. “And then I’ll-”

“Rehehen! Rehehengoku, I gehehhet it!” You giggled, tapping your hands against his shoulders. Laughing softly, he eased his grip, keeping you in his arms as the two of you looked towards the clouds. “Thahank you…really, I appreciate it.”

Rengoku hummed, rubbing a hand against your back as he got comfortable against the cool ground. “Of course, firecracker. Anytime you need me, just say the word! I'll always come running to you.”

“Even if you’re in the middle of a bowl of udon?” You teased, giggling when he thought about it.

“I’ll bring it with me! And I’ll bring you a bowl too!”

“What if you get hungry on the way there?”

“I’ll still bring you the bowl! It’ll just be a bit…empty.” You cackled at his grin, falling into his chest as he laughed alongside you.

~~~

Later that day, a sheepish Sanemi brought you freshly made Ohagi and an apology. You could still see Rengoku watching in the distance, something relieved and happy on his face as you and the Wind Hashira made up. Catching your eye, he winked before fading back into the bushes, leaving you feeling better by the minute.

You were so grateful to have Rengoku in your life.

Thanks for reading!

#demon slayer #fic #hurt/comfort #very little hurt #more comfort than anything #Big brother Rengoku #reader insert #platonic!reader #hugs for rengoku!

[cleoluvrr]

The Last Days of Summer IX (Rafe Cameron x Heyward!OC)

Warnings: violence, underage drinking, drug use, verbal abuse, jealousy, forbidden relationship, enemies to lovers, gaslighting + manipulation  

Synopsis: Stuck in a situation she never dreamed of, Neriah Heyward blurs the line between Kook and Pogue; Rafe Cameron a witness.

masterlist

word count: 3.3k+

↠━ღ◆ღ━↞

“Sit down.” He says when I try to climb over the console. “Sit down! I don’t want to tie you up but I will if you make me.”

“Tie me up? Have you lost your fucking mind?” 

He starts the car and pulls off quickly, the sudden movement jerking me backwards into the seat. Rafe speeds out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell, tires squealing against the pavement. 

“Rafe, stop this car right now and I won’t call the police the first chance I get.” I say nervously. He looks into the rearview mirror briefly before focusing back on the road, ignoring my request. “Rafe, please. I’m scared. You’re scaring me.”

“You don’t need to be scared.” He finally speaks, eyes not leaving the road.

“You just abducted me, Rafe. What do you mean I shouldn’t be scared?”

“I didn’t abduct you.” He shakes his head in denial. “Don’t say that.” My mouth gapes at him, brows knitted together tightly.

“What exactly do you call dragging me through an empty parking lot and shoving me into your car?” I say incredulously.

“You didn’t give me a choice.” He sternly responds, eyeing me in the mirror again. “This is your fault, not mine.”

“My fault! How is this my fault?”

“I gave you a choice to come willingly. I poured my heart out to you and you acted like it meant nothing.”

“You’ve treated me like shit for years, Rafe! I’m not exactly sure how you expected me to react when you cornered me and confessed your love to me out of nowhere.” 

“I understand you needed your space after that. It was out of nowhere and I’m sorry that I sprung it on you.” He grips the wheel tighter, jaw clenching as he presses his teeth together. “But you can’t keep ignoring me. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks, trying to see you and you keep avoiding me. I can’t let it go on, Neriah. I won’t”

“You are a psychopath. Like, actually.”

“I don’t like being angry with you, princess. I really don’t. But you need to stop calling me crazy.” He says. “I don’t like that.”

“Rafe, whatever you think is going to happen between us? It’s not happening. It can’t happen.”

“Why not?” He sounds like a kid when they don’t get their favorite toy, whining childishly.

“Because it can’t, Rafe. There are so many reasons why.”

He doesn’t respond to that, face blank as he continues driving. We travel silently for a few minutes, Rafe’s face strangely calm. My heart races, unsure of where he’s taking me or what he’s going to do when we get there. I pick at my nails in the backseat and gnaw on my bottom lip, the skin raw and tender from my teeth’s assault.

The night is an inky black, the only thing keeping us from the dark being the bright headlights of Rafe’s car. Both sides of us are covered in dense forest for miles inward, nothing to see but the sky-scraping treetops looming over us. 

I had almost chipped off all of the white nail polish from my french tips when the car pulled over to the side of the road slowly. I look up at Rafe nervously as he cuts the engine. He sits there for a moment lost in thought before he opens the door, slamming it shut as he rounds the front of the vehicle.

I don’t move when he opens the back passenger side door, turning off the child lock before getting inside with me. The door shuts and I am once again locked in the car with him. The air is so tense that you could cut it half. I avoid Rafe’s stare, choosing to lock my eyes on the black carpet of the car floor.

“Why.” He says breaking the silence. “Tell me why.”

“It just isn’t right.” I respond, shaking my head no.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Rafe…” I sigh heavily.

“I need you to tell me. Please.” He pleads, voice firm but desperate.

“You hurt my brother, Rafe. I can’t just let that go.” I pause for a moment, thinking about my answer. “You hurt me. You barely even spoke to me until a few weeks ago, how am I just supposed to-” I stop myself short, exhaling heavily and running a shaky hand through my braids.

“You don’t have to let it go. You shouldn’t, I was an asshole for that.” He says. “I don’t even know why I do the things I do anymore. I’m just so confused and angry and anxious all the time. And my dad is always on my case, treating me like I’m stupid and calling me a waste of space. I know that’s not an excuse for how I’ve treated you. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t even…” I can’t think of anything to say, closing my eyes and shaking my head side to side.

“What else?” I don’t answer. “What else is there stopping you? Stopping us from happening?”

“I- You…” I run a stress hand through my hand again, not even sure myself anymore. The way his eyes feel on me is so intense that it’s hard to get a full word out. “Rafe, you’re confusing me.”

“What are you confused about, princess?” His voice dripped in concern. He reaches out a hand and gently grabs my chin, tilting my head up and forcing me to look at him. “Look at me. Tell me what’s confusing you?”

“I don’t-” My words are jumbled in my mouth. “When did you even start liking me? This is so out of left-field, Rafe.”

“Your dad brought you to Tannyhill once a few years ago, before you moved schools.” He says. “I saw you reading a book under a tree while he worked. You looked so pretty with the sun shining right down on you; like an angel. I watched you from my window the entire time until you left. I knew right then that I had to have you one day.”

I say nothing, mind going a million miles a minute.

I remember that day. I was 14 and it was the summer before I left for the kook school. My dad brought me to the Cameron’s house while he chopped up some trees that had been knocked down into their yard by a storm a couple days before. My mother was out of town and my brother was off with his friends, leaving me to keep my father company. 

I never saw Rafe that day, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of someone watching me intensely the entire time I was there.

I don’t move his hand away, allowing him to leave it there until he pulls it away himself. His eyes are soft as they look at me, blue and filled with a slurry of emotions. I look away again, unable to hold his gaze any longer than a few seconds.

He hurt my brother. Almost let his friend kill him. He’s put his hands on me multiple times. He’s not even a nice person in general. He fucking kidnapped me, which is the entire reason I’m even in this car right now. He threatened to put me in jail if I didn’t do his bidding. He’s clearly mentally disturbed. A list of reasons why I shouldn’t even be acknowledging this conversation, why I should be fighting to get out of this truck.

And yet here I am, heart aching and mind racing as I wonder if I actually even care about those things anymore.

I should. I should put my family before everything else, and even thinking about giving Rafe the time of day makes me feel like a horrible sister. Almost everything about him raises alarms in my brain, big red signs flashing over his head telling me to run away as fast as I can. 

But there’s a little part of my brain, the part that liked him so long ago, telling me to give him a chance. My body is drawn to him despite my brain sensing danger when he’s around. 

Everything is happening so fast that my mind can’t process it, can’t figure out a way to handle this logically. But my body aches to be around him even when I don’t want it to. My heart beats out of rhythm whenever I catch his eye from across a room, my breath hitches when our skin brushes together accidentally. My stomach turns when I see him not out of disgust, but from the butterflies fighting to fly out of my throat.

I know everything about it is wrong, but what I don’t know is if I care. If it’s worth it to throw my brain away and make a decision that could ruin my already strained relationship with my brother.

“Rafe…my brother.” I say licking my lips nervously. “I can’t do that to him.”

“The same brother that disappears for days at a time? The one that’s gone right now as we speak?” He asks, looking at me incredulously. “The one that puts his friends before you and your family; who never takes your feelings into consideration? That brother?” I swallow dryly, not sure what to say.

It pains me to admit that he isn’t wrong.

“Yes, that brother.”

“When are you gonna start putting yourself first, Neriah?” I feel his gaze heat up as he begins to get irritated. “You’re always worried about everyone else. What about you? What about what makes you happy; what makes you feel good?” Rafe scolds.

He’s right again.

Never in my life did I think Rafe Cameron would be lecturing me on anything, let alone actually making any sense.

I gnaw at my lips again stressfully, the carpeted floor of the car even more interesting than it was five minutes ago. The car is filled with a heavy silence, the only sound coming from the cicadas chirping away outside. The blonde doesn’t speak, waiting for my answer to come for a few minutes.

He repeats the same motion of tilting my head up, eyes staring into my deeply. My heart jumps again at the contact, hands balling up into fists to keep myself composed.

“Tell me what makes you feel good, Neriah.”

The words leave me reeling, releasing a shaky exhale through my nose. If I bite my lip any harder I’m certain it’ll start bleeding. I swallow thickly, words dying in my throat as my mind goes blank, static filling my brain instead of thoughts. 

Rafe pulls my bottom lip from between my teeth with his thumb, gently running over the abused skin with the appendage. His eyes are glazed over, lost in thought as he keeps them locked on my lips trapped under his finger. He doesn't snap out of his trance until his name is called.

“Rafe…” I say weakly, eyelashes fluttering against my own cheek. My brain is screaming for me to pull away but my body won’t listen.

I swallow dryly again. I feel him lean in closer to me, so close that his minty breath cools my burning face. His thumb drops to my chin and pulls my mouth open just a little, eyes catching mine for a moment before flickering back down.

He leans in again, and I’m not sure why, but I don’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him. I shouldn’t be doing this, it’s wrong, but that only makes me want to do it more.

Rafe places one. Two. Three soft kisses onto my heavily bitten lips. He stops before the fourth one, taking a deep breath before resting his forehead against mine. He moves the hand previously on my chin to the back of my head, fingers threading through the hair at the back of my hair. He places his left hand onto my hip and squeezes it gently, his hand warm through my clothes.

He takes me not biting his head off at the action as permission to continue, leaning in once again to press his lips to mine.

They are soft against my slightly chapped lips and he tastes just as minty as he smells. The action takes my breath away, inhaling shakily through my nose as he kisses me. It is slow and gentle, something Rafe never is about anything.

I lean into his touch, placing my own hand on top of the one he has resting on my wait. I hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time, since I gave John B my first, and it was made clear by my hesitation to kiss back.

He pulls me into him, pressing my body against his. His hand slowly massaged the area of my hip over my clothes, the action leaving me as breathless as the kiss. His tongue presses against the seam of my lips twice, pushing into my own mouth when I allow him to.

The muscle grazes the back of my teeth, pushing itself in further to feel my own tongue against it. He retreats as quickly as he introduced it, returning to soft, closed mouth kisses.

Boldly, I mimic him, licking against his mouth hesitantly.

His breath hitches at that, pausing for a moment before coming back a little more intensely than before.

Tilting his head he kisses my deeper, the wetness of his tongue pressing against mine again and again. His hand moves down to the side of my neck, thumb grazing the column of my throat gently. My body buzzes with adrenaline.

Rafe pulls me on top of him suddenly, my legs straddling both sides of his body. The action catches me me off guard and causes me to gasp quietly. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss even more, licking at the roof of my mouth. I grab his forearm, not knowing what to do with my hands, and follow his lead. 

I shift in in his lap, unintentionally grinding down onto him. He groans softly into my mouth, holding me still against him as he gently bites at my bottom lip. He tugs at it and lets it go, lips moving down to my neck. He kisses at the fading bruises sweetly, the action feeling like an apology for leaving them.

He doesn’t stop, leaving gentle, burning kisses all over my throat and jawline. I feel myself become lost in the moment, mind clear of everything except for the feeling of his lips on me.

I am pulled out of my daze when a set of teeth nip at the sensitive skin of my neck, the stinging sensation making me flinch from surprise. 

“Rafe…” I say breathlessly. The sound of him mouthing at my skin continues to fill the car, wet kisses and bites leaving it hard for me to form a coherent sentence. “Rafe.” I say again, reaching my hands up to his chest and gently pushing him away.

He leans back against the seat looking just as dazed as I feel, eyes low and glossy. His lips lie slightly agape, glistening in the low light of the moon shining into the window. His chest rises and falls rhythmically against my palms as he breathes. My own breath is running away from me, unsteady as I inhale and exhale slowly to calm myself.

“We should stop.” I say firmly, ignoring the way my stomach tightens when he rips his eyes away from my lips to look into my own.

“Do you want to stop?” He questions. He watches me carefully as I try to come up with an answer. 

No, I don’t.

“I-” I breathe in deeply, closing my eyes to avoid saying something I shouldn’t. His eyes are hypnotizing, pulling me in further the longer I stare into them.

Bringing one hand up from my thigh, he wraps it around my throat. He pulls me towards him and kisses me slowly and loudly, the sound filling my ears and making me blush internally. He let’s go after a few seconds, thumbing at the fresh bruises he left on top of the old ones.

He eyes them gleefully, entranced by the red-purple splotches he’s left on the skin.

“So pretty…” He says quietly.

“Rafe,” I gulp, gently pulling his hand away from my throat. “we shouldn’t.” My words come out reluctantly, and I’m not sure if I even believe them myself.

Pulling myself off his lap I sit in my original seat, avoiding his prodding eyes. I swallow audibly, struggling to get the saliva down my dry throat. I keep my eyes lowered, picking at my nails and attacking my lips once again.

“I need to get home. It’s getting late, my dad is probably worried.” I say quietly, suddenly feeling shy. I look back up at the boy hesitantly and he’s already watching me.

Licking his lips, he nods his head at my request. He stares at me for a few minutes as if he wants to say something, words sitting on the tip of the tongue he used to caress my mouth with just moments ago.

He opens the door on his side and reluctantly exits, closing it back and rounding the vehicle once again. He starts the car almost immediately, pulling away from where we were parked and starting down the road. 

We travel in silence once again, a different tension filling the air.

The truck pulls up to my modest home, a single light shining through the blinds of the living room window. I look up at Rafe in the front seat, his eyes hard set on the front windshield and shoulders tense as he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles are a pale white.

He gets out of the car to open the child-locked door that I couldn’t open myself. He doesn’t move away when I scoot out of the truck, blocking the exit partially as he looms over me. I start to move around him, politely pushing past his shoulder, but he stops me with a hand on my forearm.

Turning back to face him completely I watch as he struggles to come up with something to say, lips twitching and jaw tensing. It’s his turn to gnaw at his lip nervously as we stand under the moon in the warm night. I can feel myself wanting to reach up and pull it from between his teeth, like he did to me in the car, but I stop myself when I’m reminded by my father just a few yards away waiting for me to come home.

Instead I clear my throat, unsure of what I should say.

“I…” Rafe trails off licking his lips again. “I need to know. Please.” 

I don’t say anything for a heavy moment. I don’t know if this night was a grave lapse in judgment, one half of my brain telling me to run away and never look back and the other half telling me that maybe he’s being genuine.

That maybe the moment in the car is evidence enough that there’s a thin line between hate and whatever it is between the two of us.

“Rafe,” I say. I pause, inhaling deeply before speaking again. “I don’t even know how I feel about you anymore. I can’t tell if this is one of your sick jokes or if you genuinely like me for some reason that I can’t fathom.”

“I would never joke about something like this.” He responds defensively, eyebrows knit together tightly.

“You have a pretty long track record of being more than a bit mean to anyone you think is below you.” I say scoffing. “Including me.”

“Not anymore! Not to you.” He sounds desperate, grip on my arm tightening. “I’ll change, I promise. I’ll change for you, Neriah.”

I sigh and wrench myself out of his bruising grip once again. Shaking my head, I slowly back away towards my front door. He looks like he’s having a hard time stopping himself from coming after me, body twitching as he holds himself back.

“Goodnight, Rafe.”

And with that I enter my house, leaving him alone in the dark of the southern night. I gave my father some excuse on how the boat ran out of gas and I had to walk all the way back. After some convincing, I retreat to my room and shut the door quietly behind me.

I flop down on the bed stomach first and scream into the soft pillows tightly pressed against my face, the sound of Rafe pulling away outside my window muffling the sound even more.

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx1 #obx2 #outer banks #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x reader #obx fanfiction #obx3 #outer banks x reader

[ladylooch]

After That Night in Ibiza with Timo Meier

A/N: So I was told, lovingly, that I ruined the angst salad from That Night in Ibiza 🤣. So a follower and I wrote this out in my DMs. Ultimately, I felt like it was too good not to share. So here is more angsty, smutty, yearning T and Em, from the summer of 2022.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, ANGSTYYYYYYYY, Swearing, you'll wanna bang their heads together.

(Timo)

I know she is gone before my eyes even open, but I still let myself pretend.

I pretend I’ll roll over and kiss her face until her eyes squeeze tight, then pop open to look at me with simmering pools of chocolate.

We’ll start with light kisses, ignoring our morning breath, and working our way up to soft laps of our tongues.

Then I’ll disappear under the blankets, kissing along her thighs until they open for me. I’ll feast on my first meal of the day. I’ll savor every moan inducing lick, denying myself her wet heat until she comes pulsing against my lips. 

I’ll kiss back up her body, sliding in to the hilt again and again and again, soft and sweet just how I know she likes it in the morning. 

We’ll order the whole room service menu, pretend we don’t have other people to get back to in different rooms. She’ll trace different shapes or words along my back, trying to get me to guess until I get frustrated and flip her over, taking her for myself again before our breakfast arrives.

I’ll convince her to stay. She’ll nod, not able to say out loud how much she’s been missing me since June. And we’ll end the night wrapped together, brain storming out loud how to get away with leaving behind the two people we came here with.

None of these things happen though.

Because Emma is already gone.

_ _ _

 (Emma)

I cannot even express how much I do not want to go to this client meeting. Not just because it’s for a client of Julien’s, but also because he just texted me that he isn’t going to make the meeting. I drove across town, in evening traffic, to get to this stupid dinner and he doesn’t even have the decency to show up? He’s such chicken shit. Obviously, he can’t get over the fact that I broke things off with him. 

But business has been slow and I could use the event revenue from this proposed, pop up for a luxury watch brand. Supposedly, the person I am meeting is famous enough to get some high-profile attendees. It could help drum up more business and I need to take what I can get right now. 

I walk in, saying my name to the host. He gestures for me to follow behind him. And then there he is: Timo Meier in his unbothered, easy stature, watching my approach.

“Absolutely not.” I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re Julian’s client?”

“Yes. And you owe me for leaving me in Ibiza.” Timo says nonchalantly, gesturing for me to sit in the chair across for him. If he’s angry about the empty bed he woke up in, he doesn’t let on. I straighten, then harshly pull the chair out, plopping down. “Heard you and Julian are done.”

“Can we please keep this professional?” I ask as I pull the folder out with my proposal.

“Em, it’s not like you need to pitch anything to me. I’m going to hire you.” 

“Well, I’d prefer to pitch. This is a luxury brand event and you shouldn’t pick just anyone.”

“I’m not picking anyone. I’m picking you. And you’re the best.” He shrugs, sitting up as the waitress comes to gather our drink order. Timo orders my favorite bottle of wine, unable to withhold a wink at me when he says the name. I stare blankly back at him. “Okay, pitch away.”

It takes twenty minutes for me to go through everything with him. By the end, he is adding in creative ideas for showcasing the watches and tailoring speciality drinks to the names of the styles. I’m scribbling, adding my own notes in the columns too. I look down at the book when I am finished, then grin excitedly at him.

“This is going to be really fun.” I say after a sip of my wine. “You should do more of this.”

“Maybe I will.” He muses. His fingers find mine. I drop the pen to lace them together. “Dessert at your place?”

I know I should say no. But I can’t. 

So, it’s me who wakes up alone the next morning instead.

- - -

The day of the event is hectic, but it doesn’t stop me from glancing at my phone to see if I’ve heard from Timo. It’s been three weeks since we were tangled up together. We’ve had a few calls about the event, but it’s been short and to the point. I’ve been executing the plan, only needing a few minutes here or there to clarify minor decisions with him. This morning, I texted him a final reminder of the timeline. All I received in response was a thumbs up. 

For some reason, it irked me. His avoidance, or ignorance, of me. I know this is how we do things, but I hate when he flips the table on me. Eventually, the ache in my heart will be eased by my friends or food or working out or a new man. The latter sounds more exhausting than anything else. I hate dating.

Rhea and I are setting out the name tags on the check-in table, making sure each one is visible and easily grabbed for the attendees. The wait staff bustles around, filling the tables with carafes of water and coffee. Bartenders clean the liquor bottles and pour more ice over the already chilled beer. I love this moment before the event. The last minute scramble for all the perfect details to collide into a magical night. 

“Isn’t that Alma Sturm?” Rhea whispers to me. I glance over my shoulder, excited to get a peek of the Olympic, Swiss gymnast. But then she’s on Timo’s arm and I wish I didn’t see. Surprise raises my eyebrows. Guess Irina is out of the picture.

“Ah.. looks like it.” I respond. Rhea, who knows about Timo and I, glances with concern at me.

“This okay?”

“Sure. We aren’t exclusive. He can do whatever he wants.” 

“Yeah.. but in front of you?” Her tone is appalled and I’m not sure if it has the right to be or not.

“I guess so.” I say, snapping my notebook shut. “He knew I was going to be here and he brought her.” I shrug. “Let’s go greet our client.” 

My heels are piercing against the wood floor as we head towards them. Timo looks around, obviously impressed with the space. I brought his vision perfectly to life. 

“Wow, Emma, this is amazing.” Timo says as he greets me. I grip his forearm, kissing the air next to his cheek in greeting. His praise warms my cheeks.

“It’s your vision.” I compliment him in return. 

“Amazing.” Alma murmurs. “I love that.” She points to a stand filled with glass shelves and intricate lighting showcasing the designer watches. Timo nods in agreement as Alma threads her arm through his again. My eyes focus on it; Timo catches me. 

“You should walk around. Make sure everything is in order before people start arriving.” I encourage them, slapping a smile on my lips.

“Will do. Thank you.” Timo walks by me, not offering another look as I breathe out a heavy sigh.

I can do this… I think I can do this. 

Two hours later, I know for sure I cannot do this.

I can’t stay in this room for any longer than I already have. Not when Timo and Alma walk around like the picturesque, host couple. Not with how she points out every detail of the event like she birthed it. Or how she tosses her hair back and tells people about how excited she is to move to California, closer to Timo. Who does she think she is? His girlfriend? And the biggest question of all, why do I care? Timo and I hook up. Fine. I don’t hold a claim over him, but does he have to parade her around in front of me like Ms. Universe? I didn’t do that with Julian. In fact, I dumped him after sleeping with Timo in Ibiza because I was bored of him.

Timo could at least have the decency to not be so damn smug about it.

What makes it worse is how he is treating me. Everything is polite. Professional. Above board. I’ve checked in with him several times tonight and he isn’t acting like himself. His eyes drift away when he’s speaking to me. His hands stay tightly clutching his glass or in his pocket. His smile is quaint, not quite reaching his blue eyes. 

But with Alma, he’s nothing like that. Eyes and hands drift over her body. Smiles are large. Laughs are electric. The knot in my stomach slides tighter with each affectionate motion towards her. Panic begins to engulf my skin. I have to get out of here. It’s so unprofessional to leave, but I’m afraid it will be worse if I stay.

“Rhea.” I say as I approach her. I must look as wild as I feel.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to… go.” I expect her to want an explanation but she nods.

“I’ll take over.”

“We should go tell Timo.” Rhea agrees, following behind me as we weave through the guests. Timo’s hand is resting on Alma’s back, finger tips dipping to more inappropriate places. I mash my teeth harder together.

“Timo?” I say tightly, touching his arm with a poke.

“Hi?” He smiles turning towards me and Rhea.

“Hi, I am so sorry, but I am not feeling well.” Timo’s smile slides off his face. On instinct, he reaches for me, then drops his hand to his side. “And I am going to leave for the night.”

“No, Em.”

“No, it’s okay.” I hold my hands up at him, putting an easy smile on my face. “You are in great hands with Rhea. She is aware of everything for the night. It will be a smooth transition. You won’t even notice I’m gone.” His eyebrows scrunch together.

“Feel better, Emma.” Larissa murmurs, waving goodbye around her brother and his date. We had caught each other briefly by the front door before I had to check on the additional chairs I requested from the venue.

“Thank you, It was so great seeing you.” I don’t bother acknowledging Alma’s presence.

“Do you need a ride?” Nico wonders, concern tightening his lips. 

“No, I’m okay.” I insist. “Thank you for this opportunity, Timo.” I give his arm a squeeze, then turn, letting Rhea step into my place.

The quiet of my apartment is obnoxious. My heels practically shatter against the hard wood as I take them off. Soon, I will be moving out of here and into Nico’s new house. He wants someone there when he is in New Jersey and I offered to move in. It’s a nice arrangement. A house mostly to myself and Nico gets peace of mind that his dream home is taken care of.

I go to my room, scrubbing off my event make up and putting on leggings and a baggy t-shirt. I do my post-event routine of making popcorn on the stovetop and pouring a glass of red wine. I’m sitting down on the couch eating my first few kernels when I hear a knock at the door.

I know who it is. The whole building probably knows who it is with his aggressive stomping down the hall.

“Emma.” My name comes through the door in that tone.

“What?” I ask, flinging my door open. He looks at me, eyes searching my face as he urgently crowds my space to cup my cheeks.

“Are you okay?” His softness is a complete 180 from everything I experienced tonight. I find myself tearing up, overwhelmed by the emotions of what’s happened between us in the last few weeks. “Em.” He murmurs, stroking my cheeks. He thinks my tears are related to not feeling well. “Come here.” He walks in, shutting the door behind us and walking me to the couch. He takes in the wine and popcorn. “You need to eat something besides this. I didn’t see you eat at the event.” 

“I didn’t.”

“Is it your stomach?

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I… don’t know.” He frowns deeper, grabbing at my head to pull me close. I expect him to say something else, but he doesn’t. Instead, he puts his forehead on mine, closing his eyes. My eyes trace the long lashes feathering together as tears sting my nostrils. I don’t know why, but I start to cry. 

But I do know. And so does he. It’s because I’m hurt. He was hurt too in Ibiza, but now we are here in each other’s arms where that used to fix everything, and it isn’t quite melding it all back together like before. Because tonight, he was with someone else. A true option and I was the help.

“For tonight…” Timo begins. “Maybe you could stop running? And I’ll take care of you the way you deserve.” I nod and his hands rush down my body, pulling me by the backs of my thighs into his arms. He carries me to my bedroom as I bury my face into his neck. My wet tears coat his skin. He is gentle when he lays me down. He presses feathery kisses along my cheeks, collecting my tears on his lips. I should be embarrassed. Instead, I feel comfort from his sweet smooches. Each press soothes the ache inside of my chest from tonight.

We work on each other’s clothes. Not speaking, just feeling, until we are both naked. Timo reaches for my comforter, pulling it back for me to get under, then he joins me on the bed. I lay on my side, reaching for him. He sighs heavily as he engulfs me into his heat. His lips trail along my neck, sucking my collar bone as I wrap my legs around his hips. 

Our lips cling to each other. The heat from the blankets wraps us in a protective warmth. Our tongues collide in wet greed as our fingers dash into each other’s hair. Timo pulls one hand off of me to grip his shaft. He strokes his head through my folds then pauses at my entrance. I reach my hand down to his butt, forcing him inside of me. He gets an inch in and I realized why he paused. No condom. 

“I’m okay if you are?” I whisper.

“Yes.” Timo sighs against my mouth. “Only with you.” I close my eyes, feeling the tears bulk into my eyes again. I hate him with anyone else. I can’t think of that right now. Instead, I tighten my legs around him so he barely has enough space to thrust. He is slow, sensual, dragging himself in and out like we will be here all night. I savor each movement, letting him know my appreciation with soft little whines and praise. 

Timo rests our noses together, then pauses for a moment, leaning down to kiss me again. His teeth are nippy, tongue daring as he works his mouth against mine. 

“Wanna stay in you forever.” He murmurs. He presses his hips in deeper, smooshing his abdomen into mine. His finger tips stroke along my outer thigh. When he moves again, my slickness has him groaning. Our connection gets tighter. I widen my hips, thrusting down with his movements. I moan into his mouth, chasing his lips as he pulls away to focus on his deep pumps. He grabs my neck, stroking along the hollow of my throat with his thumb as his tongue laps against mine.

“Fuck, T.” I croak, heavy breaths pushing me deeper into the bed with his movements. “You feel so good.” His head falls to my shoulder and I grip him tightly to me there. Our bodies are completely pressed together. His palm comes to dash through my hair, weaving into the tangled strands until his fingerprints get to my scalp at the back of my skull.

That’s when I feel it for the first time. How much he loves me. How what we are doing is nothing even close to fucking. It’s too intimate, too powerful and consuming to be just sex. My finger nails dig into his broad shoulders as I surrender to the coil of pleasure in my core. I focus on his perfect pumps, turning to nibble his flesh. I moan quietly into his ear. He melts under my touch, fucking me deeper. His mouth frantically searches for mine again. Then we climax together, kissing desperately and endlessly until every last wave has left our body. 

As we fall back to Earth, Timo gently pulls back with little pecks. My lips chase his, not concerned with how desperate I look to stay connected to him. He looks down at where he is still buried inside of me. And I see it again. The love. The ache settles back into my chest.

How can something that feels so good, still hurt so much too?

Maybe we shouldn’t keep doing this.

Timo slides from me gently, giving me a final kiss as he walks to my bathroom.

“You good?” He asks me when he brings the towel over. I nod, pursing my lips as I clean myself off.

“I’m on the pill.” I remind him. He looks at me, opening his mouth to say more then opts for a nod instead. When I’m done, he gathers me back into his chest, laying us down into the pillows on top of the comforter. 

“So, Alma’s moving to California?”

“Yeah but L.A.” He stretches his neck a bit, then continues to glide his fingers along my bicep.

“Are you happy?”

“I really don’t care.” He shrugs. “Not sure I’ll be in California much longer anyway.”

“Why?” I question, tilting my face towards his. He looks distressed by the thought. The Sharks drafted him and he’s been an integral part of the team. I’m surprised he would leave there.

“Team can’t afford my next contract.”

“Well, that’s a good problem for you, no?” 

“It’s just…. Weird. I’ve never been traded.” I nod in understanding, then press my cheek back to his chest. He pulls me deeper into him so he can kiss my head. “I should go.”

Who’s running from who now?

We dress in silence. Before we walk from the bedroom, Timo wraps me into a tight hug.

“Thank you for tonight. This event wouldn’t have been anything special without you. You made me look good, Hischier.” 

“We make a good team.” I murmur back to him. He squeezes me tighter in acknowledgement. His hand falls to the small of my back then completely away as we walk to the door.

“So, do I get a discount on your rate since you left early?” He asks as he opens the front door. He tosses his suit jacket back over his shoulders, shrugging it on and buttoning one button on the front.

“Nope.” I wrap my arms briefly around his waist, then get on my tip toes to kiss him goodnight. He rolls his eyes teasingly, then puckers his lips for one more kiss. He watches as I do the full effort, blue gaze dragging over my face. Then he leans against the door frame, resting his temple on his propped arm as he looks down at me. 

“You know we could stop all of this. The chase. The late nights. The pretending.”

“Where is the fun in that?”

“You’re having fun with this?” He asks me quietly. Silence encloses us for four heartbeats.

“Goodnight, T.” I eventually respond.

We both know nothing about this is fun anymore.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #Emma X Timo Meier #NHL blurb #hockey writing

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

This one's gonna hurt guys. I cried writing it.

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 4955

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Death, Nightmares, Running Away, Angst (lots)

----------------------------------------- Chapter 8

Over the next two and a half years they only made it back to Bobby’s twice, and it was only for one night both times. William had let her go on hunts alone once she turned seventeen, as it had taken that long for her hormones to even out and she was less impulsive. She thought of Sammy often, as they hadn’t run back into each other since that Thanksgiving.

The bracelet she’d given him had done exactly what she had told him it would, although she didn’t know that. Maria had become quite the hunter, which had made her father proud, but when a lead came up regarding the yellow-eyed demon, he had to take her back to Bobby’s. He couldn’t risk her safety.

“Will you be teaming up with John again?” she asked about a mile from Bobby’s.

“Not this time. He’s too far away. I shouldn’t be gone long though,” he replied.

Maria had an uneasy feeling about it all, “Please, let me come with you,” she practically pleaded.

“I said no. End of discussion,” he told her sternly.

She crossed her arms and stared out the windshield, pissed, but didn’t make another sound. When he pulled into the driveway she got out and grabbed her bag, slamming the door before she went in the house, right past her Uncle who was standing in the doorway. He had to quickly move or she might have run right into him.

“I’ll be back in a couple days Bobby,” William told him from the driver’s seat of the truck.

“Be careful Will,” Bobby said to him.

“Always am,” he smiled before he drove off.

Bobby heard Maria’s bedroom door slam, which made him sigh before he went and knocked on it, “What?” she practically growled from the other side.

“Can I come in or are we gonna talk through the-,” he didn’t get a chance to finish before the door swung open and she was standing in front of him.

“What?” she asked again, still angry but not nearly as bad as before.

He sighed, seeing her like this, “What’s wrong?” he asked her softly.

Her anger wasn’t gone, but she felt bad that her Uncle, who had always been nothing but nice to her, had been on the receiving end of it, “I’m sorry for yelling,” she told him, softer than before, “It’s my Dad. He won’t take me with him and he won’t wait for John, and I’ve got a bad feeling about this but he won’t listen,” she blurted out.

Bobby thought for a moment, “He’s a good hunter and he’ll check in because you’re here,” there wasn’t much he could say that would ease her mind and he knew it, but he had tried. 

“I still don’t feel better,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

He chuckled a little, “I’m not good at this, but I’m here for you.”

She sighed and looked down at the floor, “I know Uncle Bobby and I appreciate that you’re here and I’m not alone in some motel room.”

“Want some ice cream? I got your favorite,” he asked her with a small smile.

“And chocolate syrup?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“Yup. It’s in the cabinet, not even opened yet,” he replied.

“Definitly then,” she smiled, even if it was a small one.

Maria had ice cream as she sat on the living room couch while her Uncle sat behind his desk drinking whiskey. She noticed that he had gotten more books and wondered what ones she’d end up reading during her stay this time. She was finally old enough that her father had stopped restricting what she read, which had stopped when she turned sixteen. Bobby was worried about her, and Will. This was the first time William had gone alone after the yellow-eyed demon.

William checked in with them when he reached the motel in the town he had been headed to, which wasn’t as reassuring to Maria as he had hoped it would be. After the quick phone call, she walked over to her uncle's books and he watched her with a raised eyebrow.

“Lookin' for something specific?” he asked her.

“No,” she said plainly, “Just wanted to see what you had, that’s all.”

He wasn’t sure if he believed her, remembering the book he’d found the last time she stayed with him, which was in a warded box in the safe. She grabbed one on demons and sat back down on the couch, curling up with her feet tucked neatly next to her on the cushion. The two of them sat in silence for the next hour before she got up to head to bed.

“Night Uncle Bobby,” she said as she stood up and stretched.

“See ya in the mornin', kid,” he replied.

Maria headed to her room and this time, she looked around it, remembering her stay there when she was fourteen, “God, I was such a kid,” she mumbled, looking at the posters.

Not in the mood to take them down she just changed into some pajamas and then went to bed for the night, not prepared for the dreams that came once she drifted off to sleep.

At first, it was the symbol on the cover of the book she’d read the last time she was there. Then, there was a box and a glow coming from inside it, then a safe. The dream changed and she saw a man standing outside the window of a house. He was watching whoever was inside. She couldn’t make out exactly what the house looked like or even what the man looked like, as she could only see the back of him. Again the dream changed and it was nighttime outside of an old abandoned warehouse of some sort. She’d never seen the place before in her waking world but somehow knew it was a real location. Voices were coming from inside but she couldn’t make them out. She could only tell that they were male. Before she could get close to the door, a pair of yellow eyes glowed in her mind and she woke up screaming.

Bobby had been sound asleep but when he heard her scream, he ran to her room and flung her door open, gun in hand. He quickly put it away seeing that she had apparently had a nightmare, “You okay kid?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

She was holding her chest, eyes wide open, and fear flowed through her veins as her heart pounded in her chest. At first, she didn’t even register that her Uncle was standing in her doorway, or that he had spoken until he was sitting on her bed next to her.

“You okay?” he asked her again, softly.

She took a deep breath before she looked over at him, having calmed down slightly, “Just… a nightmare, that’s all,” she replied, slightly quietly, unable to shake those yellow eyes from her vision.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, although he didn’t want to push either.

Maria shook her head a little, wanting to piece it together on her own, “No, I think I’m just worrying too much about Dad.” 

Bobby sighed, “Well, I’m here, if you want to. He’ll call us tomorrow,” he told her before returning to bed.

She waited till he left and checked under her mattress, near the foot of her bed where she had stashed the book the last time she was there but it was gone. She knew Bobby had to have found it at some point and wondered if that had been the reason they hadn’t been back to her Uncle’s place except those couple of times, and only for the one night each time. Maria sighed before she crawled back into bed, lying on her side. Sleep found her quickly, although, it was dreamless this time.

Her father did call in the following day, letting them know it would probably be a week that he’d be gone and he wouldn’t be able to check in every day. She wasn’t happy about that and still had that uneasy feeling. The days passed slowly for her and the nights were long over the following week, her dreams were mostly the same, those damned yellow eyes, the warehouse, the men talking inside. She never saw them, nor could she determine what they were discussing. Maria would wake up the same every time, although she hadn’t screamed. William called them around the afternoon of the fourth day though, telling them the lead looked more promising than anything. Maria pushed for him to involve John, but he refused, so she begged him to be careful.

Bobby’s place was quiet, and she liked that. It wasn’t just inside his home. With his place being outside of town, there was little to no traffic that ever went by. She spent most of her time reading, loving her Uncle’s collection of books she’d never even heard of before, and now, she didn’t have to sneak to read them. Maria cooked a couple of times, trying to take her mind off of her father and the yellow-eyed demon. She’d almost called John a couple of different times but knew he wouldn’t listen to her either.

Her nightmares were mostly the same, although some things had changed. She always saw the book first, the warehouse, and the yellow eyes though. Once she saw her mother pregnant, another time it was her mother, father, and her Uncle talking in what she could only figure was some strange house, one she’d never seen before. It was the nightmare that came a week later, and that was of her father getting killed in the warehouse she hadn’t stopped dreaming about.

Screams echoed through Bobby’s house and he had come running to her room again, gun aimed and ready when he shoved her door open. She had tears in her eyes and looked terrified, “Kid, what’s wrong?” he asked, putting his gun away and sitting next to her on her bed, worried.

“I… Dad… the demon…” she couldn’t even get the words out, still sobbing like a five-year-old.

He put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her into a hug, “It’s okay. He’s smart. He’s okay. Just breathe,” he said softly, trying to soothe her.

She cried in his arms for a minute or two before she was able to take a deep breath, beginning to calm herself, even though her body was still shaking, “Dad’s in trouble…” she whispered.

Bobby knew he had to stay calm, more for her sake than anything, “It’s four in the morning, otherwise, I’d call him. We’ll call him first thing, I promise,” he told her softly in a soothing tone.

Neither of them was going to get any more sleep at this point, “I think I’m just gonna make some coffee. I don’t want to go back to sleep Uncle Bobby,” she told him quietly.

He kissed the top of her head before he looked down at her as she pulled out of the hug, “I’ll put on some coffee,” he said with a soft smile. He figured she’d need to calm down before she was going to even make it out of her room. At least this way, the coffee would be ready for her when she did.

“Thanks,” she replied, managing a small smile herself.

He headed out to the kitchen while she sat in her bed for a bit longer, still trying to calm her nerves. That nightmare had shaken her to her core. She shivered one more time before she finally got out of bed and got dressed, slower than usual though. It took her even longer to make it out to the kitchen. She was dragging her feet, almost in a daze or worry as she got herself some coffee and sat down on the couch. Bobby was sitting behind his desk again, knowing the hours of the morning were going to pass slower than normal for the two of them.

Two hours later, William’s phone went to voicemail, causing Bobby to sigh, “I’ll keep trying. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong,” he tried to reassure her, and himself.

When that happened the next several times he called, his own worry was beginning to set in and he finally called John, “Look, I know you’re probably not even close, but I need you to go check on Will. He hasn’t checked in in almost a week now.” John could hear the concern in Bobby’s voice, “Where’s he at?” John asked, Sam and Dean listening from their seats in the Impala.

“He went after yellow-eyes. In Preston, Nevada,” Bobby told him.

“I’m in Sunnyside. That’s less than an hour's drive,” John replied, wondering what the hell Will had been thinking, “I’ll call you when I get there,” he added before he hung up the phone and stepped on the gas.

Bobby tossed his phone on his desk and looked over at Maria who had a worried expression, “He’s close, he’ll call us when he gets there. It won’t be long,” he told her, 

She hadn’t looked up at him. There was a feeling of loss inside that she couldn’t place its source. In a way, she felt somewhat numb and just nodded a bit to what he’d said. Maria sipped her current cup of coffee. All they could do now was wait. John had explained to his boys what had happened and where they were headed. He didn’t have time to take them somewhere safe to keep them away from yellow-eyes like he would have preferred, feeling neither of them was old enough or prepared enough to take the demon on.

That hour ticked away like half a day had passed before Bobby’s phone finally rang again, “Bobby, he’s not at the motel, and neither is his truck. There’s not much here as to where he could have gone but the clerk said he paid through the month,” John explained as he glanced around the room William had been using.

“Tell him to look for a warehouse, on the outskirts of town, please,” Maria said quietly, staring off at nothing.

“I heard her. Call you when I know more,” John said quickly before hanging up the phone.

It wasn’t long before John and the boys found the warehouse. When they saw William’s truck parked outside, John was even more worried, “Boys, stay here,” he told them, “and arm yourselves.” Dean and Sam just nodded, pulling their guns and keeping a vigilant watch as they watched their father get out of the Impala, gun aimed and ready.

Bobby had been drinking for the last few hours and downed another shot before he poured himself another as he stared at his phone that was sitting on his desk. His mind was playing out the worst-case scenarios and it wasn’t helping. He glanced over at Maria, worried about the blank expression on her face before he poured himself another drink. Again, time ticked by slowly. When his grandfather clock dinged, signifying noon, it made them both jump and take a deep breath. It snapped her out of her thoughts. 

She finally stood up and stretched, not having realized how long she had been sitting there, curled up on the couch. She hadn’t been able to get those yellow eyes out of her vision. Zoning off had been the only thing that had helped. When the phone rang, her head snapped over to it and stared, fear in her eyes once again.

“John, please tell me you fou-” Bobby began, but John cut him off.

“Bobby, are you sitting down?” John asked calmly.

Bobby glanced at Maria, “Yeah…” he replied, concerned.

John rubbed his hand over his face, not wanting to tell him what he’d found, “Are you alone?” he asked.

Those words alone gave Bobby the answer he needed but he refused to believe his thoughts, or his instincts, wanting them to be wrong, “Maria’s with me,” he replied.

“Damnit,” John mumbled under his breath, barely audible through the phone, “There’s no easy way to say this Bobby. He’s gone,” John told him, barely able to keep the loss out of his tone.

Bobby went stone-faced, unable to fully process what he’d just heard. The silence in the room was deafening. All Maria could do was stare at him, waiting for something, a word of hope, but none came, “When will you be here?” Bobby asked.

John sighed, “Six hours,” he answered.

“See you then, and… thank you. I owe you for this one,” Bobby told him before hanging up the phone.

Bobby looked up and over at her and the look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. She felt the tears falling down her cheeks long before she could even register them and then ran to her room, slamming the door. Maria fell on her bed, face in her pillow, and cried. Bobby let her go, let her cry out her grief as he drank away his. Neither of them had kept track of time. She cried for hours off and on before she fell asleep.

Five hours after that call, the truck and the Impala pulled up in Bobby’s driveway. He set his glass down on his desk and went outside, not wanting to wake her, “Hey John,” he sighed as he met them in the driveway.

Dean climbed out of the driver’s seat of Wiliam’s truck, handing Bobby the keys, a solemn expression as he headed toward the house, looking at the ground, followed by his brother.

“She’s sleeping, so you two better stay quiet,” Bobby told them, to which they just nodded.

“His body is in the back of his truck. We can have a hunter’s funeral for him tomorrow. Me and the boys will stick around for a couple of days,” John told him before he looked from the truck to Bobby, “And Bobby, I’m sorry about this, and your loss.”

Bobby felt his hand on his shoulder, the only comforting gesture the man ever gave. The grief began coming out in Bobby's expression and he quickly pushed it aside, “I really appreciate this John, and so will Maria,” he replied, his voice a little shaky, fighting back tears.

John nodded and headed inside, wanting to give the man a moment alone with his brother-in-law’s body. The boys had made themselves each a sandwich, now sitting at the table quietly, “When you’re done, grab your stuff. We’ll be staying for a couple days,” John told them as he went to the fridge, getting himself a beer.

Two hours later, Maria woke. Her tears were dry on her cheeks and her heart hurt. On the inside, she felt empty. She rolled onto her side, facing away from the wall for a moment. Everything just felt numb. When she heard other voices in the house she finally climbed out of bed to see who was there, feeling detached from even herself. The four of them were in the living room, talking quietly about where they would build the wooden pyre for William’s funeral, a hunter’s funeral. She barely glanced at them as she went into the kitchen when she realized it was the Winchesters. Of course, who else would have been there with her father’s passing, but family? 

Dean just watched her. She’d changed since he’d seen her last when she was fourteen. Seeing her as lost as she looked did something to his heart. He was nineteen now, almost twenty. Even as pained as she looked, he found her beautiful, and not just on the outside. Something in him felt as though it was pushing him to go hold her, but Dean wasn’t the kind to do that sort of thing. He kept himself in check, especially around his father, who had already told him that she was completely off limits. For a moment, the memory of that five-year-old girl came playing through his mind when she beat him with a simple rock-throwing challenge and he smirked a little.

Maria got herself a drink of water. Nothing felt real for her as she stood with her back facing the living room. She set the half-empty glass down on the counter and found herself looking over at the door. Her body was moving toward the door, then outside, and toward her father’s truck. The closer she got, the more the pain came back, but she forced herself to keep moving. Somehow she knew his body would be in the back, probably wrapped in something. Maria slowly climbed up and into the back of the truck, using the back bumper. 

She crouched down next to his body, near his head at the other end of the bed of the truck, “I’m gonna miss you, Pappa,” she whispered, reaching out, but not touching him.

The tears fell again, silently down her cheeks. She reached over and pulled a beer out of the cooler on the other side of her father before she sat down and leaned against the cab of the truck. She smiled slightly, her knees up and her arms resting on them, the beer opened and in her hand.

“This one’s for you Dad,” she said softly as she looked up at the heavens, lifting the beer, in a toast before she took a drink.

Her tears had stopped shortly after that as she sipped the beer. It wasn’t the first time she’d drank. William had seen that she was mature for her age, so had let her have a beer six months before this day. She never overdid it, having researched alcohol beforehand. At this moment, she didn’t feel alone, sitting next to his body, even though she knew he was gone. There was an odd comfort in the moment which was helping with her grief. None of the others bothered her, just giving her the space she needed. They knew she needed to say goodbye, in whatever way that looked like to her. They would occasionally peek out the window though, keeping an eye on her.

Night came quickly while she sat there, although she was on her third beer. It had helped her relax a little, as had just sitting with her father’s body, in her father’s truck where she had shared so many memories with him. A soft smile had returned to her as she stood up and climbed out of the bed of the truck, looking back over at her father one more time.

“I really am gonna miss you, Pappa,” she whispered before she went back into the house.

This time Sammy went over to her and hugged her. At first, she was surprised but then hugged him back, welcoming the comfort, “I missed you Sis,” he told her.

He was practically as tall as she was now, and she smiled softly, “I missed you too little brother,” she replied.

She pulled back and looked at him, as they were now eye level with each other, “You got tall,” she chuckled.

He chuckled back, “Yeah, growth spurt. You okay?” he asked, concerned again.

“I think I will be,” she answered, not really sure of that herself yet but she didn’t want him to worry about her.

The two made their way into the living room, where she grabbed a chair and sat down with it backward, resting her arms over the back of it. Sam sat back down on the couch, “How long are you guys staying?” she asked all three of the Winchesters, only mildly curious, attempting to push her grief aside.

“We’re gonna stay for a couple days, help with the arrangements,” John answered, knowing she wasn’t okay, no matter how well she was hiding it.

She nodded, and thought for a moment, “So, tomorrow's the funeral then?” she asked.

Bobby could also tell something was off with her but for now, wasn’t going to say anything, “Yes. We’ll build the pyre and give him a proper funeral tomorrow night,” John replied.

Her mind began working with the information before she spoke again, “Where?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“In the back part of the lot,” Bobby answered her, knowing it’d be the best place.

Again she nodded, mentally making her plan, “I’m gonna get something to eat and head to bed,” she told them before going back into the kitchen.

As she made herself a sandwich, again calculated her plan, then took her plate into her room. She packed her things as she ate, being almost silent as she moved around her room. She was still slightly buzzed from the beers she had earlier. It had almost helped her thoughts and emotions slow down long enough to think. However, the anger portion of grief hadn’t fully hit her yet, although, it was what was fueling her plan, even if she didn’t fully realize it.

The following day she helped them with the pyre. About halfway through, she had excused herself to get something to eat. She did get herself some food but also packed up her father’s truck, which was now hers, hiding her bag in the back seat. Maria rejoined the four of them to finish helping and then watched as her Uncle and John carried her father’s body to it, placing it in the center. None of them spoke, but Dean watched her while he worked, always looking away before she could notice. They had dinner before they headed back outside to where the pyre had been built.

Maria was more numb now than anything as she followed behind all of them out to the pyre. Bobby had handed her a lighter when they reached it and she looked up at him before taking it. She took a deep breath and lit her father’s pyre before stepping back and returning her Uncle’s lighter to him. Bobby had said something, a prayer, but she wasn’t paying attention as she watched her father’s body burn. Halfway through, she excused herself, leaving the four of them out there. She checked behind her several times as she made her way back to the front of her Uncle’s property, and then into the house. She knew where Bobby’s safe was and she had to retrieve something that had been calling to her from the time she’d gotten there.

She located the safe and picked the lock in almost record time, pulling the box from it and closing it, or at least, she thought she had. Maria pulled the keys out of her pocket and went back out to her truck, looking again towards the smoke in the sky from her father’s pyre, “Goodbye,” she whispered to them all before turning back to her truck.

The window was down so she just climbed through it, not wanting to alert them to the sound of the closing door. She glanced through the rearview mirror one last time before she started her truck and drove off, her focus only on the yellow-eyed demon that had taken both her parents from her. She was going to find something, even if she had to stop in every single town in every state in the country.

“Balls!” Bobby exclaimed and he quickly ran to the driveway, followed by the other three.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Dean said under his breath, seeing the truck gone.

“Want me to try to chase her down?” John asked, wondering if that was even possible.

“If she don’t want to be found, no one will find her,” Bobby sighed.

“Boys, go keep an eye on the pyre,” John told them before he had Bobby headed inside.

The boys didn’t say a word, but they listened, both of them worried about Maria. Dean wanted to get in the Impala and do exactly what his father had asked Bobby about, but he knew better.

Bobby went straight to her room. She’d left it neat, but all her belongings were gone, “Bobby!” John hollered from his study.

“What?” Bobby asked him, standing in the doorway.

“Missing anything?” he asked, gesturing to the slightly open safe hidden behind a picture on the wall that hadn’t even been put back in place.

“Balls,” Bobby grumbled, knowing exactly what was missing, “She took the damn book.”

“Well shit,” John sighed.

The two shook their heads before they rejoined the boys at William’s pyre, staying silent as they watched the fire begin to die down, the embers glowing brightly beneath the dying flames. 

Maria continued to glance in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see the Impala’s headlights following her, but after four hours, they never did. Her anger finally flared as she felt a sense of freedom. She didn’t have to answer to anyone and she had no plans of doing so. Her grip on the steering wheel made her knuckles turn almost white as she glared at the road ahead of her, deciding to find the nearest demon and get answers. 

Her cell phone had rang numerous times, but she never answered it, letting it go to voicemail while she drove. She wasn’t even tired when the sun began to rise, anger flowing through her veins, revenge driving her. A day later, she just turned off her phone and threw it in the glove box, and the battery on it died a couple of hours later. All four of them were worried about her, that she’d do something reckless in the state she was in, and they had no way of finding her. 

The box with the book inside it had been shoved under the front seat of her truck and forgotten. It slept for now, knowing now was not the time to teach her more.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 9

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

#supernatural #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x femaleoc #nephilim #sam winchester fanfiction #spn fic #SPN FANDOM #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spnfandom #spn #spn au #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #supernatural fandom #supernatural oc #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural au #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #nephilim fanfiction

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

THE PLANNING

THE NANNY: ONE SHOT

THE PLANNING

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: The wedding is coming soon and Andy doesn’t seem very interested in the planning of the event.

Warnings: NONE. Some cursing words, that’s it.

A/N:  none.

Word count: 2008

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

GIF’s not mine, you can find the credits in it:) 

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

“Now what was his excuse?” Sharon said as she walked into de restaurant of the Hotel were the wedding was going to take place.

“Ammm, he is just busy.”

“Right,” Sharon rolled her eyes, “Just because he is a lawyer doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be helping you with the wedding. He is getting married too!”

That was this morning and now Annie was sitting in the dining room after dinner surrounded by a bunch of magazines, folders, ring binders, pictures, color samples, while Andy was scrolling through his phone.

“So, I was thinking maybe everything inside should be silver with light blue or maybe lilac.”

“Sure, honey.”

“And for the center pieces maybe we could use peonies.”

“Yeah, those are good.”

Annie lifted her gaze to see Andy was not paying attention at all.

“And then we could hire a clown to marry us.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Yeah?” Andy nodded, “and I would only wear a red thong and no bra for our wedding and we will have Chinese for the guest.”

“You always have the best ideas, honey!

“How about if I made Laurie my maid of honor?”

“It’s an excellent idea.”

Annie grabbed one of the many binders she had on the table and slammed it hard making Andy to jump, his phone falling from his grip.

“What’s wrong?!”

“You are not paying attention to me!”

“Yes, I am.”

“Really? Repeat something I said?”

“Ammm well, you said, you wanted to have a band for the wedding?”

“I wasn’t even talking about music!!!!!! Andy the wedding is coming, I’m so stressed out and you are not helping me!”

“Honey, it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big…fine! We are not getting married.”

“What?!”

“We will cancel the whole thing!”

“Why?!”

“You just said it, it’s not a big deal, so there will be no wedding!”

“Honey, that’s not what I meant!”

“Then, what is it?!”

“Well, I’ve already got married once.”

“You don’t care.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t need to say it! You are not paying attention to me. This is important to me. I want our wedding to be perfect, I am marrying the man of my fucking dreams and you don’t care!”

“Honey,” Andy walked towards her and she took a step back and crossed her arms.

“No, I don’t wanna see you or talk to you right now. Excuse me.”

Andy saw Annie go upstairs, and then turned to see everything that was on the table. He sat down and took one of the binders. There were many pictures and all of them had little notes with Annie’s handwriting. No lemon cake, Andy hates it. Blue is Andy’s favorite color.  He saw a picture of some empty chairs with the pictures of love one who had passed away. Find a picture of Andy’s mom. Another one: Song for the first dance: ____________.  The line was empty, she hasn’t really thought in a song for them to dance.

He then took a yellow post-it: Cake taste appointment: Friday, at noon.

Yes, he got married once, but since Laurie and he were just out of college and expecting they only went to the town hall and did it. No ceremony, no party, no nothing.

Andy walked up the stairs and to their room. Annie was watching T.V, she didn’t seem angry.

“Honey?” no answer, “May I come in?”

“It’s your room too.”

“I do care.”

“No, you don’t, it’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll do it, you just need to show up. That’s it if you don’t forget it.”

“I don’t forget things.”

“We had an appointment today to see the menu and you didn’t show up.” Andy remained silent, he didn’t know they had that appointment. “The food was good. I chose beef. I was told by the catering people most people choose chicken, but I know you like beef better.”

“You never told me we had to see that.”

“Yes, I did. I told you 3 times.” Andy was confused as hell, he couldn’t remember her saying anything about that.

“I’m sorry, I forgot.” Annie nodded and turned her gaze to the T.V. “I’m sorry you had to go by yourself.”

“I wasn’t alone. Sharon went with me.”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Look, I’m not interested in your apologies. Just let me know if you wanna continue with the wedding or not. We still have time to cancel. I’m going to shower.”

Andy was left alone in the dimmed room, Annie was disappointed and that hurt him more than when she was angry or sad.

Andy took his phone and texted Sharon.

A: “Hi, so I have a question, and be honest with me.”

S: “Sure! What’s up?”

A: “How many wedding appointments have I missed?”

S: “Oh my god! You can’t be serious!”

A: “I am! Answer the damn question!”

S: “5, the appointment to choose a wedding planner, by the way she doesn’t have one, she’s doing everything on her own.  The appointment to choose the venue, the appointment for the flower arrangements, the appointment for the music and today was time to choose the menu.”

Andy look at the phone, he had fucked up big time.

S: “Oh! And she went to see some suits for Jake. No offense but Jake is your kid, even though she loves him as his own.”

A: “Thanks for the input.”  

He looked at the bathroom closed door, the water was still running. He went back downstairs and sat where Annie was before. He took a deep breath and grabbed one of the magazines.

He went through a few pages of the magazine when he saw another post-it: Still no dress. Better hurry.  And another one said:  Still waiting for a spot with Melissa Benedict.

“Who is Melissa Benedict?!” Andy ran his hand through his face. “I better make coffee.”

------------------------------------------------------- (     ) ----------------------------------------------------------Annie was walking towards the bakery for the cake taste. Andy wasn’t home when she woke up, and hasn’t texted her or called her. The bakery was full with people, another appointment without Andy. She let out a sigh, holding back her tears and walked into the bakery.

“Miss Johnson!” The teenager behind the counter smiled at her, “We are ready with your samples. If you follow me, please. This way.”

Andy was running down the street, he couldn’t be late, he couldn’t not show up. He pushed the door open and everyone turned to see him.

“Good day, sir. May I help you?”

“Yes, I’m the groom.”

The girl laughed a bit, “I’m sorry, but whose groom?”

“Annie’s.”

“Oh! You’re looking for Miss Johnson! Right, this way.”

Andy went through the door and to the back of the bakery, Annie was standing next to a woman as they looked to some pictures.

“I’ll bring the samples. Have a sit.”

“Hi, honey.”

“Andy?” He was standing there, his cheeks were a bit flushed and his tie was misplaced.

“Am I late?”

Annie shook her head and they sat down waiting for the cake to arrive. The baker came back with a single sample of each cake.

“Oh! We have company, who is this?” Annie was about to answer but Andy was faster.

“I’m the groom!” Full smile on display.

“The groom! What a wonderful surprise. Your fiancé was telling me you were busy at court.”

“Yeah, I cancel everything so I could be here.” Andy took Annie’s hand and squeezed it.

“Then I should bring your sample too.”

“No, we could share. Right honey?”

“Right…”

“Very well, we choose our most popular flavors for wedding cakes. So we have chocolate, I know is not the common but it’s been popular lately.” She put the sample on the table, “We have red velvet.” Another small cake was placed in front of them, “Vanilla, a classic! We also have carrot cake and last but not least, lemon. I leave you two to it, I’ll be back in a moment. Enjoy!” All the small cakes were decorated the same, cover with white frosting and golden bits on the edges.

The baker left them alone. None of them said a word. Until Andy spoke.

“These shoes are not made for running.”

“You ran?”

“I didn’t want to be late.” Annie nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Missing all the other appointments. Not helping you with the planning.”

“It’s ok.”

“No, it’s not, honey.” He took a deep breath, “I care, I do. I want to marry you; and I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention to you.”

“I understand you’re busy.”

“But I wasn’t busy, I was being an ass! You don’t deserve that.” Annie smiled.

“You were an ass.”

“Yes, I was. By the way. I think peonies are perfect for the center pieces. We should go with silver and lilac. Also,” Andy opened his jacket and took out a picture. “I like this picture of my mom.”

Annie smiled, “You went through my binders.”

“I had to.” Andy leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, “I saw one of your notes, and you haven’t chosen a song for us to dance.” Annie shook her head, “Why not?”

“I just, none of the classic wedding songs seem to fit.”

“I have a song.”

“You do?”

“Yeap. Every time I listen to that song you just,” Andy made the sound of pop with his lips, “Right in my head, all smiley.”

“What song it is?”

“I want that to be a surprise.”

“You know I don’t like surprises, they…”

“Make you anxious, I know. Just trust me, ok? I promise I won’t forget about it and I know it’s the perfect song.”

“I trust you, Andy.” She gave him a peck on the lips.

“One more thing.”

“What?”

“I got you an appointment with Melissa Benedict for next week.”

“WHAT?! HOW?!!!!”

“I know some people, and when I finally could reach her, I told her I had fucked up and wanted to make it up to you, so she said yes.”

“Oh my god!” Annie hugged Andy tight, “Thank you!”

“Anything so my baby can have her dream wedding.”

“Our wedding.” Annie said smiling.

“Our dream wedding!” They kissed again, “Alright! Let’s tastes these cakes!” Andy reached for one, took a piece and shove it in his mouth.

“Andy, wait!”

Andy spit the cake in the napkin.

“Fucking lemon cake! Why is this even an option?!” Annie laughed, “Oh! You think this is funny?”

“Yes, maybe it was a bit of karma.”

“Fine, I deserve it.”

After tasting all of the samples the baker came back.

“So, which flavor do you want for your wedding?”

“Chocolate!” Andy said

“Vanilla” Annie said at the same time.

“Oh! Hehehe” the baker saw with amusement to each of the pair.

“Andy, we can’t have chocolate cake at our wedding.”

“Why not? It’s delicious!”

“Cuz it’s a wedding.”

“But, you love chocolate cake.”

“Well,” The baker said, “As I told you before it has been very popular these days, because people want something different for the event.”

“See, we should go with chocolate.”

“I think we should stick with vanilla.”

“I can make a cake with both flavors, half vanilla, half chocolate. You know a marble cake.” Andy and Annie looked at each other. “Be right back.”

The baker went to the front of the bakery and came back with a slice of cake, the bread was a mixture of chocolate and vanilla, with chocolate frosting and bronze sugar spheres on top of it.

“We can always change the decorations, ok? Just try it.”

They took their forks and cut a small piece of the slice and taste it.

“Oh my god,” Annie licked her lips, “this is it.”

“It’s perfect.” Andy said as he cut another piece of the cake.

“So, it’s settle. Marble cake for the Barbers.”

“The Barbers has a nice tune, don’t you think, honey?”

“It sounds good.”

“Yes, it does!” Andy leaned in and gave a small kiss.

“I love weddings!” The baker said and the couple laughed. “Sorry, I always get excited.”

#andy barber fanfic #andy barber #annie johnson #andy x annie #andy x reader #the nanny fic #andy barber fanfiction #jake barber #andy and annie #the nanny au

[amive2567]

Shalom! Can I please order a ☕️🧋With Sick Dabi? Thanks!

Ingredients: Sick Dabi x Reader (they/them)

Contains: breakups, minor violence (no one gets really hurt), hurtful words, swearing, arguments, Dabi is sick, ungretfulness,

Summary: Dabi is sick, but what if his ungratefulness takes the most precious thing from him?

Words: 1626

Type of order: Cupcake (Oneshot), coffee (angst), Bubble tea (request)

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for your order. I hope it's to your liking. The sickness got a bit forgotten towards the end, but I hope you still like it. 💕

The day at work was stressful. Customers were storming in and out, you had barely any break. You simply wanted to come home, eat something from your favorite delivery service, and perhaps cuddle on the couch with Dabi while watching a movie. Of course, if he sneaked into your flat.

You turn your key in the lock to finally enter your home. “Argh, finally.” you groaned as you got rid of your shoes. The house was quiet, just how you liked it. You placed your keys in your gorgeous key bowl, which Dabi created for your first anniversary. You approached the living room with delicate steps, not expecting to see him, yet there he was. His black hair adhered to his sweaty forehead. Every now and then a whine fell from his lips. You were beyond worried, never in your entire relationship was Dabi sick. Not even after you both dashed home in the pouring rain in the dead of winter. You approached your boyfriend with quiet steps. With a gentle movement, you laid your hand on his forehead to feel if he has a fever. Just as you thought, he was boiling.

Dabi grabbed your arm and yanked it from his brow in a split second. “Leave me alone,” he growled, visibly annoyed. “Ok, I will prepare some soup for you,” you whispered. You attempted to kiss him on his hot cheeks, but he just turned around. Well, he was annoyed by his sickness, so you didn't pay any mind to it. He just had a bad time now, it will be better if he rested enough and ate something. The kitchen was still a mess from breakfast this morning, you had to leave in a rush and Dabi headed to somewhere you didn’t know. Before you could prepare the soup you had to clean this mess. Good for Dabi so he could rest even more. With a faint smile on your lips, you cleaned the dishes, the counters and prepared the ingredients.

After some hours the soup was finally finished. You put all your love and heart into it, you hoped that Dabi loved this soup. He always adores your cooking, so why shouldn’t he? Finishing the last decorative elements, in the form of chopped seaweed, you put the bowl of soup and a glass of water on a tray, which was usually used for breakfast in bed. “Dabs, I am finished. Do you want to try a bit? Maybe it will help.” you asked calmly. He growled. You weren’t sure what this meant so you asked again. “Do you want to try my soup?” “Fuck off Y/N. I don’t need your stupid soup. I don’t need your help.” he barked and slapped the tray out of your hold. The bowl fell loudly on the new gray carpet, and the hot soup splashed on your thighs. Burning pain made you gasp, but you ignored it. The shock of his words hurt more than the hot soup per se. “I will get something to clean up,” you mumbled quietly.

You vanished into the bathroom and got some towels from the cupboard. As you wanted to enter the living room your steps came to a hold. Dabi was talking with someone. His voice was not as deep as always, because of his sniff, but he still sounded angry and annoyed. “Shiggy, you won’t believe it. They made me a soup. It probably tastes like piss, like all their cooking. They are so useless. This stupid behavior really pisses me off. It's so annoying. I need to hang up, Y/N is probably almost back to clean their mess, they are useless as I said. See ya.”

Tears were running down your cheeks. You could barely manage to hold your cries. You were already insecure so why did he have to bash on it? Why all of the sudden? Have you done something wrong? Did he only use you? You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down, even though you were boiling with hurt and anger. With a swift movement, you wiped your tears away. You entered the living room.

Dabi just put his phone away, as you entered. “Can I ask you something?” you whispered, attempting not to anger him even more. “You already did.” He snorted and rolled his eyes. “What did I do to you, to make you so angry?” You quickly got up and walked to the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow behind your back. “Are you stupid? You are just an annoyance, you are useless and just utterly stupid. I don’t need someone like you in my life. You’re selfish and only do something for me when you feel like it, not when I need it. This whole relationship is just for my benefit. I used you, you stupid girl.” His smoky voice grew louder with every word. And with his words came new tears. They were now running down your cheeks like little rivers, your voice shivered as you answered. “Get out, I don’t want to see you ever again. How could you just act like you love me and give me such lovely gifts? You faked it all. You asshole. You're dead to me.” You hit Dabi with the towel you used to wipe up the soup. With each punch, your insults to him grew louder. Dabi was used to worse, so he just stood there and waited until you were exhausted. “I am going then,'' he said nonchalantly, like nothing of this argument mattered to him.

As the door closed with a loud thud, you broke down. Tears of rage and despair streamed down your chin and dropped on the slanted floor. The pain inside of your chest was unbearable. All of those years, for nothing. Every “I love you” was fake. Every breakfast in bed was fake. Every date you both went on was fake. He only used you, like some doll. Just like he always had called you. You slammed your fist into the ground until the skin of your knuckles grew bloody. The pain and betrayal you felt couldn't be formed into words. It just felt as if someone had ripped your kind and loving heart out.

At the same time, Dabi tried to get himself down the stairs, but due to his sickness, he had to sit down in front of your door. The apartment building was cold, not like your cozy apartment. He hated himself for his stupid words, nothing of it was true, but his insecurities got the better of him. “Damn it,” he swore loudly. You were just too good for him, too kind, and way too great, but he didn’t want you to be involved in his criminal actions. His head began to spin as he continued to curse himself. Before he passed out he typed Shigaraki a short message. “Don’t need to get me, I'll stay.” After he pressed on ‘sent’ the world grew dark around him.

The next morning you awoke in the middle of the kitchen. The whole crying got you so tired that you passed out on the cold floor. You felt as if you hadn’t slept at all, besides that your back was also hurting. With a deep breath, you started your horrible day. The pain of yesterday was still too present. You got dressed in your sports clothes as you wanted to go jogging, to forget this horrible feeling. But as you opened your front door, the sleeping Dabi fell onto your feet. Even though you wanted to be angry at him and ignore him, your pity for him was bigger. You wanted to kick your ass, for your next move. With a gentle pat on his head, you woke him up. “Dabi, get in my flat and sleep there. It’s more comfortable.” He looked up at you with tired eyes. “Mhm.” he only grumbled, as he got up.

Without a word, he entered your flat. You snort but follow him back inside. As you closed the door, Dabi finally spoke up. “I am deeply sorry about yesterday,” he mumbled. You crossed your arms above your chest and raised an eyebrow. “I won’t accept your apology. What you said yesterday really hurt my feelings and at the moment I am too angry at you to believe you. You said you used me, how could I trust you with your words now.” you said coldly. He nodded sadly. Well, he knew that you wouldn’t believe his apology. “Please let Shigaraki take care of you and leave. We need a break. First I have to build up trust again. I loved you, really, but you hurt me too much to let you stay in my life at the moment. Maybe we will get back together and if not then not.” Your voice shivered, but you didn’t want to cry about it now. Dabi only nodded and went straight to the door, but before he left he said something that made you regret your choice. “To be honest, all of it was a lie. I would never use you. I love you way too much, to ever betray you, but I am not a good person. You shouldn’t be involved in my crimes. I somehow wanted to protect the most precious thing in my life by destroying it completely. I knew that this would be a decision that would destroy my life, but t’s better that you are safe now instead of me being selfish. I will always love you, no matter what. I hope you will have a good time. I hope we will meet again.” He left your flat and took your heart with him. He would always be your first and last love.

#ami writes #request #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi angst #mha angst #bnha angst #dabi x reader angst #tw breakup #tw argument #tw sick #sick dabi #touya x reader #touya angst #the big sad #todoroki angst #todoroki x reader angst #todoroki x reader