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daydreaming-nerd · 2 days

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The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3

AN: I'm not really sure if I like how this turned out, so if you're new here I promise my writing it typically so much better. ALSO there are so many new faces on here! I wanted to say hello and thank you for the love once again! If you liked this fic and you love drama, forbidden love, protective acotar boys, a bit of a slow burn, and political intrigue you would LOVE and I mean LOVE my fic Young Love and Old Money. I’m still writing it but it’s almost completed! Go check it out you won’t be disappointed!

and of course check out my masterlist

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right?

Warnings: smut, so much lucien fluff, happy ending for lucien (for once) :)

Word count: 5057

We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened.

I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all.

I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him, until today.

As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. I didn’t even give him a chance to ask if I was alright before I started blubbering.

“Lu I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to. She just got under my skin and I-”

“Shhh” he cooed, pulling me into his chest. “It’s okay, I understand. I didn’t react much better when Azriel started talking.” he chuckled, no doubt remembering how he preemptively called me his wife, the words had rolled off his tongue so effortlessly it was admirable.

“He’s never raised his voice to me like that. Not ever,” I hiccup into his chest, his scent like apples, spiced berries and woodsmoke.

“I should’ve burned him to a crisp for doing so he has no right to treat you that way,” he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“It’s alright, now that he knows he’ll be entitled to act possessive of me,” I sigh, starting to feel my pulse slow in his arms.

“And I’m not granted that same right? To protect you?” Lucien said, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze.

“Well, you aren’t my mate,” I laugh looking into his eyes.

“And what if that doesn’t matter to me? That we aren’t mates? What if I think that the Cauldron made a terrible, horrible mistake by not binding me to you in every way imaginable?” he confesses.

I search his face for a hint of that playful gleam I saw earlier. The trickster, the silver tongued fox who might be playing me for a fool. But I didn’t find it, for all those fiery eyes bore was sincerity.

“What do you mean Lu?” I ask earnestly.

“Exactly what I said, you aren’t my mate, but…” he stops as if to consider his words. “But I still feel like you are in a way, I feel protective of you. In a way I always have, remember when you scraped your knee climbing that cherry blossom tree in the spring court all those years ago?”

I smile remembering the event, I had wanted some cherry blossoms to braid into my hair. “Yes I do, I still have the scar.” I laughed.

“I know you do, I see it every time I make love to you,” he smiled back. “I remember carrying you to the healers at the spring court from half a mile out. Even then I couldn’t stand the thought of you bearing any sort of scar. What I’m trying to say is that you may not be my mate, but I love you like you’re mine. Because you are, you are mine.”

My breath gets caught in my throat and my eyes go wide at those three little words. The ones I thought I might’ve felt too these past few months.

I love you.

For a year now things between Lucien and I had been strictly situational, just a means to an end. Then I started noticing the little things, his toothbrush next to mine, his laundry in my hamper, him having his own side of the bed. Things changed, but it wasn’t a bad change, which was a new idea for me, as I had always resented change. But not this, this was good.

I thought I had felt that emotion with Lucien before. The night that I came home and he had made us both dinner. The time he bought me the second book in a series just because he noticed I was almost done with the first. The week I was sick he nursed my back to health. I thought I felt love each and every one of those times, but I wasn’t sure. I always teetered on saying it but never caved. But as I stood here in his arms, watching his eyes light up as he said those words to me, I knew I felt the same.

“I-I love you too Lucien,” I said quietly so only he could hear, even though we were the only two people in the house.

He wastes no time bringing his mouth to mine, for so long our kisses had been fervent, needy. Both of us desiring pleasure and the codling that came after it. This kiss was different than all the rest, in it I felt real love. The kind I had only read about in my numerous romance novels. I dreamed of being kissed this way my entire life.

I felt strong hands grip my waist hoisting me up. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he started bounding up the stairs, his enthusiasm making me giggle.

“Believe me my love, there is nothing funny about the way I’m going to ravish you tonight,” he smirked before kicking open the bedroom door.

The next day I woke up slowly, not wanting to move from where Lucien had placed me on his chest last night. Both of us took our time to have a steady morning knowing that later in the day there would be chaos. Lucien got up first, always the more responsible of the two of us. When I murmured a sleepy protest he simply chuckled and placed me back in bed, where I snuggled into the warm sheets that smell faintly of him.

When I woke for the second time I smelled that delectable scent of pancakes wafting through the small townhouse. The aroma pulled me from the sheets in a sleepy haze as if my body was controlled by some other worldly force. Slipping on my blue nightgown and padding downstairs into the kitchen I found Lucien half clothed and cooking breakfast for the two of us.

“Blueberry pancakes, not chocolate chip,” he assured me, sprinkling fresh blueberries onto a pancake.

“You remembered,” I sighed leaning against the counter watching him intently. When Lucien had first made breakfast for me I was taken aback by his cooking skills, there was no way that this man was the complete package.

“How could I forget?” he laughed, flipping a pancake. “Last time I made chocolate you were on your cycle and you were so befuddled that you yanked the spatula out of my hand and spanked me with it.”

I slid between him and the stove, “Don’t act like you didn’t like it,” I say my voice low and sultry as my hand slowly reaches for the spatula he’s hidden behind his back.

“You little minx,” he teases when he feels my fingers searching for the torture weapon. The mischievous gleam flashes in his eyes and before I can run he swipes a blob of whipped cream from a nearby bowl onto my cheek.

“Lu!” I scoff going to wipe the cream off my cheek but he grasps my wrist to stop me.

“Fair is fair my dear,” he smirks before licking the sweetness off my cheek. I immediately feel my toes curl at the fiery sensation.

“You are insatiable,” I laughed, moving away from him to properly wipe my face.

I feel a quick slap to my arse with the spatula and I turn to see my fiancé standing with a self satisfied smirk. “Says you little miss ‘more Lucien more!’” he teases recalling how I begged him to touch me last night.

“I knew you would tease me about that!” I shouted, pushing his study form as hard as I could, he didn’t even teeter. “I’ll never beg for you again!”

He smiles, grabbing my left hand and pulling it to his mouth, placing a kiss on the ring adorning it. “There will never be a need,” he smirked. “Now go and set the table, babysitting Nyx duties can’t be put off for forever.”

I had told Rhys and Feyre that I would happily watch Nyx this afternoon. Of course that was before they knew about Lucien, who might’ve gotten away with a pleasant afternoon in my townhouse with a new book but now? He was shackled to me to watch the young one.

While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…

“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed.

I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book.

“Just imagine till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.

“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.

“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out.

“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“Is it bad that I’m enjoying watching this?” he admitted.

“Watching what?” I laugh as Nyx puts the necklace in his mouth.

“You, with a baby in your arms,” he said.

“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.

I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “As many as you would like my darling.” he laughed.

I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“Of course,” he assured me.

“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms.

“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause.

My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over. I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, but now things had changed.

“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance.

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple.

As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip.

“How was he? Was he good?” Feyre smiled crossing the room to take her son in her arms once more.

“He was, but those wings are going to give me grief one day,” I smile watching Nyx snuggle into his mothers arms.

“Don’t worry I’m terrified too,” Rhys laughed, approaching his mate and child.

A comfortable silence ensued as I watched the little family reunite, smiles and warmth surrounding them. Lucien’s hand came to my shoulder, as if promising that we too would have that same picture perfect family one day.

“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.

I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.

“If you lay one hand on her spymaster I will burn you to ash,” Lucien growled, his hand on my shoulder tightening possessively.

“You have my word that I will not touch her in anger,” Azriel said earnestly, not a hint of teasing or mockery. Instead, a new found respect for Lucien showed in his eyes.

I go to follow Azriel into the other room when I feel Lucien grab my hand pulling me into his broad chest.

“Wait,” he said before slamming his lips to mine. The gesture was so passionate I couldn’t help but let out the slightest of moans as I felt him cradle the back of my head. This wasn’t just a kiss goodbye, it was a display of power to Azriel, letting him know how serious the two of us were. I couldn’t help but feel my lips turn up at Lucien’s sudden daring.

I felt him back away to survey my face, as if looking for any hesitancy to enter into a conversation with Azriel. When he was certain I was comfortable he placed a kiss on my brow, “I’ll be right here if you need me.” he said as I dropped his hand and followed Azriel into Rhys’ study.

The doors to the office closed with a resolute click as Azriel turned to face me, his eyes somber.

“First and foremost I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I behaved the other night. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that or said the things I did” he said leaning against the desk a food meter away from me, as if Lucien had scared him from coming any closer.

“It’s alright I forgive you. I shouldn’t have blurted out such an important thing anyways. We were both at fault.” I say earnestly.

Azriel pulls his gaze from his boots to me, “I heard what you said in there, about your children having wings. Did you ever picture that those children would be?” he starts leaving me room to finish the sentence for him.

“Yours? Yes.” I say timidly.

Azriel sighs as if weighing what all this means, “How long have you known?” he prompts.

I think to lie, but it wouldn’t bear well on my soul. It was best to get it all out in the open.

“400 years.” I confess and he curses under his breath. “I knew it the night you danced with me at the solstice ball in the Hewn City.”

“Fuck y/n,” he curses again, turning to brace his hands on the desk behind him and I take a tentative step towards him.

“I’m sorry I never told you, that wasn’t fair to you.” I sigh, but he doesn’t reply so I continue on. “It’s just that every time I thought about it you were pining for Mor and then Elain. I never felt I stood a chance. But you would talk to me about them, and even though it broke my heart to hear how you loved them so, it was better than losing you. I told myself that if I couldn’t have your love I would cherish your friendship, and maybe that was selfish of me but I did it.”

Azriel finally turned from the desk to meet my gaze and I tried to offer him the most sympathetic glance I could.

“I understand why you never told me, but I still wish I had known. Thing’s might’ve been different.” he said, running a hand through his hair.

I pause to consider his words, “Would they be?” I ask.

He looked at me in confusion, like I was dispelling the idea that the sky was blue. I understood his disarray. For thousands of years things had always been the same, mates were mates and that was that. But maybe what Lucien said last night did have merit.

“Are you not happy with Elain?” I prompt him with a light heart, as I finally started to feel some solace in my own words.

“y/n I don’t want to-”

“You do not burden me Az.” I interrupt him, knowing what he was going to say. “Tell me truthfully.”

A blush tints his cheeks as he averts his gaze to his boots once more, “I am happy. I am very happy.” he smiles as if he can’t help it.

“I think it was meant to be this way,” I say honestly watching the shadowsinger reeling in front of me.

“What about you? Are you?”

“Happy?” I ask, glancing to the door where I know Lucien waits for me on the other side. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.” I smile answering him.

“How long have you and him been… you know?” he asks, seemling losing all tension in his body as he sees me at ease.

“Since starfall,” I answered, remembering the first time Lu kissed me.

“A year?!” Az balked, raising his voice in disbelief.

I laugh watching his face drop, “it’s interesting the things you don’t notice when you’re in love,” I wink at him, knowing he was too caught up with Elain to pay any mind to Lu and I.

Azriel shakes his head as if processing this new information before he turns to me again, “And do you love him?” he asks.

I smile remembering last night, “I do, I love him very much.” I answer.

“And does he love you?” Az presses further, as if he needs to tie up all loose ends before he can be at ease with the entire situation.

“I think he made that pretty clear a couple minutes ago,” I laughed, referring to the kiss he gave me.

“Yeah I suppose I got that message loud and clear,” Azriel chuckled as a pause of silence fell over us. “I think… I think in another lifetime we would’ve made each other really happy.”

“Maybe even this lifetime.” I say sadly thinking of what could’ve been. “But I love Lucien, he chose me when I thought no one else would, and maybe I’m making a mistake by marrying him. But somehow it feels like the first right thing I’ve done in the past 400 years.”

“He’s a very lucky man,” Azriel remarked with a certain sadness. “I hope that you will be happy with him,” he finished seemingly giving me his blessing.

“I think it was meant to be this way, don't you?” I ask, finally feeling my heart and my conscious lighten.

“I do,” he smiles before holding his hand out to me. “Friends?” he asks.

I nod clasping my hand in his, “Friends.”

“Let’s get you back to your fiancé before I find myself in a pile of ash on the floor,” Azriel chuckles, putting his hand on the door.

I laugh with him and when the door to the living room opens I find Lucien and Elain hugging.

My heart is caught in my throat as I realize that perhaps Lucien might’ve changed his mind. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. She was his true mate after all and, she was astonishingly beautiful. Maybe I was misled when Azriel and I settled our differences.

Both their heads whipped our way, and Lucien’s smile shined brightly. I was unsure of who that smile was for until he ran over to me, grabbing me by the hips and spinning me around.

“It is done,” Lucien cheered and out of the corner of my eye I saw Azriel throw an arm around Elain’s shoulders.

“What is?” I laughed once my feet were back on the ground.

“I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to call you my wife by sundown.” Lucien said affectionately.

“And why shouldn’t you wait? She’s a princess after all, you should snatch her up while you can,” Elain called out affectionately from Azriel’s side. I couldn’t help but look at the two of them standing there.

A hand snaked its way under my chin taking my attention to him before he planted his lips on mine. “Be mine, forever.” he proposed.

I couldn’t stop the smile that graced my face, “Okay,” I said quietly.

A cheer from Elain erupted behind me and suddenly it felt like all the pieces were falling into place, like everything I had ever wanted for myself had now come true.

The ceremony was short, just like Lucien and I had wanted. However, instead of an elopement it was a small gathering, Cass and Ness, Amren, Mor, Az and Elain and of course Rhys and Feyre were present. I wore my mothers dress and at some point Lu had slipped out to buy me a proper ring, not that I minded the old one.

The rest of the night was filled with drinking and frivolity. The whole family laughing and telling stories, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged with all of them, as I sat on my husband's lap. It wasn’t until many glasses of wine later that I found Lucien carrying me bridal style over the threshold of our home.

“This really isn’t necessary,” I laughed, holding a spare bottle of wine in my hand as he stepped through the doorway, the fireplace roaring to life.

“It’s traditional for a husband to carry his wife over the threshold of their home after the wedding.” he retorted, stepping inside the house and closing the door with his foot.

“For humans not for fae,” I corrected him as he finally set me down on slightly unsteady legs.

“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to carry you,” he laughed, taking the wine from my hand and setting it on a side table by the door.

“You never need an excuse for that,” I laughed, throwing my arms around his neck.

“Well in that case,” he smirks before picking me up again and bounding up our stairs.

My feet don’t hit the floor until we’re in our room, his lips finding mine in an instant. With a wave of my hand I remove my dress, magically placing it back to wherever my dear brother found it. Lucien tossed his shirt over his head so that my hands might wander the plains of his toned chest. His hands find my hips pushing me away ever so slightly so that he can see me.

His eyes graze the expanse of my bare body and I’m suddenly frustrated by the fact that I’m the only one laid bare in the room.

“My wife,” he says, kissing my lips, pulling me closer. “My, beautiful, beautiful wife.” he kisses me again, smiling like he can’t help it.

I try to speak but he deepens the kiss once more, robbing me of words as he uses his body to overpower me with sheer force. His hands find my arse, giving it a squeeze before lifting my feet off the ground and tossing me onto our bed.

In a turn of events, my eyes wander the expanse of his body. Toned from years and years of training. His eyes sparkle with amusement and suddenly I feel like a sitting duck awaiting his mouth on me once more.

He falls onto the bed, hovering over me as he places yet another kiss on my lips. I use his imbalance to knee his hips towards the bed, my body weight pinning him beneath me as his eyes look up to me with pure lust. Large hands dance up my sides as if to encourage any next move I might make.

“My handsome, cunning, silver tongued husband,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his bare chest. My mouth trails over his chest, to his shoulders, and his collar bones. Needing every part of him on my lips. It isn’t until I get to his neck that he lets loose a groan and flips us back over.

“While I enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself on my cock wife, I shall be the one to take you tonight,” he smirks, biting my neck hard, no doubt trying to leave his mark there.

“Oh Lu,” I breathe, feeling my body come alive over his lips and wandering hands.

My eyes shoot open as I feel his breath hovering over my sex, the warmth causing my blood to burn.

“What a lucky male a I am to be able to taste this sweet cunt whenever I please,” he smiled mischievously before licking a stripe up my center.

I let out a breathy moan as he continues to lick and suck every inch of me. His hands parting my thighs warm and hard as he circles my clit with his tongue. My fingers thread through his hair pulling him impossibly close, earning a groan from him that reverberates through me.

“Like fucking honeysuckle,” he moans before trailing more kisses up my body.

I slink down moving towards where his cock peeks out of his untied breeches. Needing to feel the weight of him in my mouth, needing to hear the whimpers of pleasure on his tongue but he stops me.

“No not tonight,” he fusses pushing me back down into the mattress.

“But Lu-”

“No buts” he interrupts. “I want to pleasure my new wife tonight. Let me have that,” he moans silencing any protest I might have with a kiss as he slides home.

The all consuming feeling of being taken by him as me gasping for breath as my back arches off the bed. My tits rising towards his mouth and he easily grasps a hardened nipple between his lips, sucking eagerly.

“Lucien,” I breathe feeling him all around me.

“I love you,” he rasped, thrusting deeper. “My wife I love you.” he grunted watching where he slammed into me with intensity.

My hand came to cup his face bringing his eyes to mine. My fingers trace the scar over his golden eye as I see the emotion flood his russet colored eye. “I love you too, husband,” I whisper to him.

A gleam finds his eyes and he drives into me harder, the sound of skin slapping reverberating throughout the room. It was as if me uttering his new title spurred him on.

We’re a tangled mess of sweat slick limbs and ragged breaths as I feel him deeper and deeper inside of me. My nails scraping his back, trying to find purchase or something to anchor me as pleasure rips through my body. His pants become whimpers as I feel myself tightening around him.

“Always so perfectly tight,” he curses, driving through my tight heat.

His words are enough to have me falling apart under him, my legs shaking from pleasure as I cry his name.

“Lucien oh gods!” I cry, my hands no doubt leaving marks in his skin.

“That’s right my love, cum for me,” he groans before sputtering himself. “Fuck,” he mutters before I feel him burry his seed deep inside me.

His whimpers fill the space between my neck and shoulder as he finishes inside me. Once he’s spent he rolls over taking me with him so I’m cuddled into his side.

“I’m so unbelievably happy,” he whispers into the world, still coming down from his high.

“I’m told that’s often a side effect of an orgasm,” I laugh running a hand up and down his chest, soothing him.

“No,” he says breathlessly, turning so that he is hovering over me once more. “I’m unbelievably happy because of you. You have not only given me your love, but you’ve given me a house, and a family. I never thought I would have those things. You are… you are everything and I promise to be the most amazing husband I can be.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow.

“You already are,” I smile, pulling him into another heated kiss.

It would undoubtedly be like this for many years to come. However long the Cauldron allowed me to live, I knew I would always have a place here, with Lucien. And maybe things didn’t go as I had always planned, but gods was I happy, and more importantly I was loved.

Lucien Vanserra chose me, not because I was his mate, or because the world told him to. No, he chose me because he loved me, even when it wasn’t convenient for him, and I chose him too. I would choose him until the end of my days.

Epilogue: Five Years Later

“Careful my darling,” Lucien fussed, helping to lower me down onto a sofa.

“Lu I’m pregnant not fatally injured,” I laugh waving him away as I rest my hands on my ever growing bump.

“Of course, pregnancy is a walk in the park, I’ll remember that next time you beat me for serving you chocolate pancakes instead of blueberry,” he chides, pulling a blanket over my lap. “I spend a year telling myself you like blueberries and this little one comes along and all of the sudden you want chocolate.”

“Pregnancy cravings are no joke my friend,” Rhysand laughs from the adjacent couch. “I find it best to satisfy your wife’s cravings as soon as possible before she asks for another ridiculous request.”

“Especially when one’s wife is a princess,” Lucien teases, pressing a kiss to my temple.

“You married me!” I protest.

“And I thank the Cauldron every day that I did,” Lucien smiles, pressing a kiss to my lips finally.

(do we need an Az version now?)

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cupcakeslushie · 19 hours

Note

For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)

Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)

——

The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.

“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.

“Michael?”

“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”

“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”

That gets the laugh he was looking for.

“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”

Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.

“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.

“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.

Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.

“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.

“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.

Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.

Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four months). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.

———

He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.

“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.

It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.

“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”

No answer.

The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.

But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.

Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.

A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.

He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.

As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise mikey #rise kendra #Kendratello au #ask slushie #rottmnt writing

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i-cant-sing · 2 days

Text

Mmmhhh thinking about Yandere Batfam reacting to a reader who runs a very popular blog where she absolutely bashes Batman and Robins- and the batfam takes your criticism very seriously. Maybe not at first, but then Damian (the easiest to tick) got pissed off when you wrote how "he's just a kid in a cheap Halloween costume" and when Damian gets pissed off, he whines. He whines and whines and whines until Dick and Bruce finally listen to him and do something about it. That's when they find out about the extensive threads about them, criticising meticulously each and every action of theirs, how they're causing more financial harm to Gotham and allowing themselves to be idolised and causing more people to comit crimes just so that they could have their 5 seconds of fame with Batman. And ofc theirs a whole page about the Batsignal.

I mean, Damian and Tim have already found out who runs the page (though they had a little bit of a hard time sniffing u out. You were good at covering your tracks). While Damian and Tim are busy going to "have a talk with you", Bruce is at home reading your entire blog about Batfam and realising how some of your points.... kinda makes sense. So, he buys the app where you write your blogs, then has Damian bring you over to the Wayne offices, where he explains he just wanted to meet the person running the blog that generates the most readers on the app. You, just a 23 year old student who's blogging as a side hustle.

You're obviously stunned because why are you meeting Bruce Wayne and also confused because again, why are you here exactly??? Bruce just says that he likes your insights and would like to know more, and he's happy to pay you by the hour you spend talking to him and also on the blog.

He's very much determined to make Batman and Robins be good in your mind, and not that he cares much about what people think about him, it doesn't hurt to have good PR for heroes, lest people should try revolting against Justice league and only end up hurting themselves. There's only so much he could do to calm his metahuman friends.

You're again- CONFUSED, but you like money. The only thing you tell him is that you get to write whatever you want, complete creative control and that you can write about anyone you wish. Ofc, it doesn't register to Bruce that you could possibly write against his family- against his name.

So in the beginning, things are going great. Reader continues making calculated judgements and comments about Batfam and how they could possibly improve themselves, the batfam takes note and tries to do most of the things. Then you'd write something that could almost be seen as praise for "changing their old ways" and they all feel a little bit proud. They don't realise it but some members of the batfam (like damian and Dick) start craving your approval of their actions.

Perhaps something happens, maybe you don't find it fun to write about the bats anymore, so you shift your mind towards a new topic-

The Wayne's.

You research a bit, finding it a little odd at Bruve Wayne's generosity to be adopting random ass kids, a super duper clean record, no scandals or anything- it just- it doesn't feel right. No one's that clean. They have to be hiding something.

So when u can't find anything against them, you let your imagination go wild and start making conspiracy theories, kinda feel like reader goes in her gossip girl era to stir things up so that someone would come forward with something- anything.

Bruce's eyes almost bulge out as he reads the blog's headline-

"The secrets of Gotham's favourite billionaire playboy!"

Shit- did you figure out he's batman?

Nope. In fact, you covered everything but that. From theories about him adopting troubled kids for PR, to the Wayne family actually being a chauvinist cult, to conspiracies about his ties with the Rothschild, his philanthropic donations being a front for illegal activity, the Wayne Manor holding lavish nsfw parties, and even a classic "they drink virgin maiden blood!"

Bruce stood in your apartment, eyes narrowing at your sleeping form on the couch.

"Bruce? What- how did you get in?" You don't remember unlocking your door.

"What is the meaning of this?" He pulled up your article on his phone.

"Huh?" You took a closer look, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Oh. Yeah, I wrote that."

"Why?"

You shrugged. "I was bored."

"What?" Bruce could feel himself getting angry. How could you be so nonchalant about the lies you wrote?

"You know this isn't true." "I do." "Then why did you write it?" "I told you, I was bored. Besides, you told me I could write about anyone." You get up with a sigh. "I don't get why you're so worried about this. Barely anyone reads this stuff."

Bruce's brows went up. "There's a 1000 plus views on this already!"

"What?" your eyes twinkled. "A thousand already? Its not even been 24 hours since I posted. Wow, people really do enjoy conspiracy-" you shut up when you saw his glare. "Right, sorry."

"Take it down, now." Bruce orders, brow twitching when you just walk past him and into the kitchen, pouring yourself some coffee. "Why?" you asks after taking a sip.

He glares at you. "Because it isnt true-"

"Then give me something that is."

Bruce stared at you. Is this... is this your way of wanting an interview?

You sighed. "Look, just let me interview you family, I promise to only write the truth and only the truth. No conspiracies, I swear."

"Or I could just fire you. Better yet, have you sued for defamation."

You nodded. "You could, but honestly that would only bring more attention to the articles and more conspiracies would arise. Besides, you and I both know you cant stop me from writing even if I'm in jail."

Bruce watched you walk upto him, holding your phone in your hand. "Come on, just one week- one week at your place, I'll even let you read the article before I post it. If you dont like it, I'll delete it."

I mean... it did sound like a pretty good bargain. Besides, at his home, youd be in a more supervised space.

So here you are, standing in the lobby of the Wayne manor as a posh butler leads you to Bruce's office. Of course Alfred will be a part of your articles. He's too fancy to not be.

And so over the course of a week, you dont really find anything particularly intriguing about the family, even after you interviewed each member. You're mentally groaning at the thought of writing yet another boring article... that is until you accidentally discover the batcave (ok not accidentally, u hid a recorder in Bruce's office and u heard the man discussing about it with Dick)

Anyways, it didnt take long for you to discover the cave, and it took you even less for you to write a scandalous article.

"RICH MAN COSPLAYS AND PRACTICES HIS JUJUTSU SKILLS ON THE MENTALLY ILL! SEE PICTURES OF WHERE HE ROLEPLAYS IN MASKS!"

Unfortunately, before you hit "post", your phone is snatched and you're knocked out.

When you come to, Bruce is sitting in front of you looking beyond pissed while you're tied up in your seat.

"We had a deal, Y/n." Bruce gritted out.

"So? Deal was off the moment I found out you were Batman." You shrugged.

"We had a deal-"

"You really expect me to just pretend like I'm blind after I found out who you really are? Do you think anyone would just give up on a scoop this big?" You tilt your head at him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at you. "Scoop? Thats what this is to you?"

You nodded. "Sure, you're a hero who fights crime and brings "peace" to Gotham, but who knows for sure? After all, thats how you want the world to see you." You lean as far as your restraints allow you. "I dont trust you, Bruce. Not one bit. There's just- this gut feeling about you. Nothing personal, but I dont get good vibes from you."

"Is that so?" Bruce raised his brow before sighing. "I guess there's no reason to let you go then."

"What?"

He nodded to himself. "Yes, if I let you go now, you'll only cause more trouble for me, but also for yourself. If you post content like that, people will target you- yes, I definitely cant let you go. You're an impulsive idiot who'd endanger herself just to not be bored."

Your eyes widen. "You cant kill me."

Bruce scoffed. "Dont be ridiculous, I can, but I wont. I just want to take care of you, protect you from yourself." He stood up. "I did a little bit of research on you too, yknow? You keep your personal life super private, I have to give credit to you, it wasnt easy to find out about your family. But... money makes the mare go."

Your throat dried as you saw a glint in his eyes. He knew... he couldnt-

Bruce's footsteps echoed as he neared you and ruffled your hair. "Poor you... having to deal with a schizoprenic mom." He leaned down to smile gently at you, but you could sense the sinister intent.

"Dont worry, she'll be taken care of at Gotham Asylum while you stay with us."

girl idk where i was going with this, i just needed to get it out of my drafts (i have another long incomplete draft about platonic yandere dick x gymnast reader where he basically is intrigued by this mini tonya harding who lives for her dead beat father's approval who doesnt give a shit about her unless she comes first. so its upto dick to adopt u and make u a part of batfam)

#rich man has weird ways of adopting kids that dont consent to adoption #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc #batfam x reader

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sae1549 · 3 days

Text

More very random head cannons. -SFW—NSWF-

Characters mentioned: Astarion, Gale, shadowheart, laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Minthara and Halsin +1

Content warning: hair pulling, oral f/recieving & m/recieving, knife play, size kink, predator/ pray kink.

Word count: 3.2k

Astarion

-SFW-

- He has a very gravelly voice in the morning that lasts around 25 minutes.

- He absolutely loves cats. And later you end up moving to the underdark, you both adopt a cat that is able to travel alone to get the things that they need. He sees it as your baby and treats it as such.

- He is the person you go to if you want any gossip. When you both get to the underdark I could see him becoming a bartender or something like that. Where he can swindle people of their money while having fun doing it.

- He can cook. Contrary to him not eating normal food anymore he was once human. But he will look over cookbooks for a while if you tell him that you would like to try his cooking.

- He dislikes flowers, of course he thinks that they are beautiful but they do not live long. He gets sad because he links that thought to losing you. So he tries to keep those thoughts away from him.

- He absolutely loves shoes, he can rant and rave about them, when everyone was in camp he would like to go up to gale the most. He really liked his shoes, even going as far as stealing them. Only to have a grumpy gale walking through camp with his arms crossed pushing Astarion over and taking his shoes back.

- Astarion has to clean himself in his bat form as well as his normal form. So he takes extra long in the shower. But he gets so fluffy!

- He starts seeing a therapist after everything is settled in the underdark.

- He loves to give forehead kisses.

- Astarion loves to be called beautiful!! Call him beautiful often!!!!!

- When you ask him what his natural eye color is he thinks about it for a while getting back to you telling you that they were a steel blue.

- He does not have many things, but he wants to some day. So without him noticing you slowly start to give him little things here and there. Like an extra bedroll that you had, a blanket. Some new pillows, candles, anything that you can find that you think he would like to make him more comfortable.

- He loves horror movie nights!!!!!!!!!

-NSFW-

Ascension ver.

- When he is ascended he does not care as much if you get off first.

- He would be a lot more rough, biting much more feverishly and more often.

- He would give you head, but he would not do it for long.

- He knows exactly how good you are feeling, but will make you tell him.

- He is the dominant one.

- He will take up multiple partners as he expects you to do the same. He would go out of his way to ask if you would want to add another partner into your nightly activities.

- His sex drive would increase greatly.

- He sets a brutal pace.

- He likes to tease.

- He would not fall asleep after doing it, but he would ask you about what you liked and how he did.

- He lets you rest your head on his lap to fall asleep after.

Gale

-SFW-

- Man can sing. But mostly does it when he is bathing or concentrating. Quite interesting to hear for the first time when you are in battle together. Singing in a tired gravely voice before shooting off another spell.

- He tried to convince Tara to let him dress her up in a cute little outfit one time. He left around 30 minutes later covered in scratches. That is to say he does not make those comments anymore.

- He likes painting from memory, yes he can control the weave but he would like to have some sort of proof if there was ever a day when he could no longer handle the weave any longer.

- When coming back from a particularly hard day, if you massage his shoulders a bit he will melt into a puddle and fall asleep.

- His favorite juice is apple juice.

- Always likes books more than movies. Does not matter if it is actually a good movie.

- He keeps photos of you on hand so he can show his students. And they know so much about you and he wants to ask if you would visit his class to shed some light on recent events. Totally not an excuse for him to see you more.

- He likes his food hot, even his salads. All food needs to be hot.

- Loves silver jewelry, his wedding ring is silver with purple stones embedded into the ring. You have the matching version obviously but it is a wide band with white and purple stones honored on the ring.

-NSFW-

- He is into pulling hair, if things are getting a bit more rough. You are sitting on his lap. Getting into a very heated makeout session, in a heated kiss his hand snakes up onto the back of your head, seating itself into your hair. The other hand softly rocking you back and forth. He breaks away from the kiss. “You are quite breathtaking my love.” He says through slightly labored breaths, he grips and gently pulls on the hair at the back of your head. Swiftly latching his lips onto your neck.

- He does like when there is a bit of lightheartedness while making love, but it is serious so he will always go back to being more serious.

- He likes to lay in the sun after finishing, watching as you also bask in the light, he thinks it makes you look ethereal.

- He would go at a moderate pace, and would not have very good rhythm when he first starts.

- He thinks it is a bit romantic to have music playing while enjoying eachothers company. So there will be soft piano playing in the background.

- He definitely uses magic, mage hand would come in handy, being able to bind your hands for a little rougher session.

- He does not own any toys, but would be okay with owning some if it helped you get off better. He would end up enjoying it immensely.

- Public sex is something that he could be talked into. As long as it is somewhere where less people are. But there is still the thrill of possibly being caught.

- He masterbates from time to time, it is not often. But if you are not around and he is fully alone then he would enjoy himself.

- His stamina is not very high, but he can fully please you and a little more if he is asked.

Lae’zel

-SFW-

- She would keep a collection of rusted or busted knives to fix while at camp. It helps her calm down plus it gives her something to look forward to.

- She would eat dinner at either 5 pm or 10 pm no in between.

- Talks to herself all the time. Saying she is the best therapist she knows.

- Her favorite color is Silver.

- She likes to read before she goes to bed.

- She also likes to sit on a high point at the camp to look at the stars.

- She would be an astrology girl. And would believe it completely.

-NSFW-

- She is the top.

- She is a biter, lightly gliding her teeth across your skin. She loves to feel you shiver from the touch she is giving you.

- She is not loud, and does not want you to be loud either.

- She would be 100% serious in bed. No laughing, no jokes.

- She has a moderate sex drive.

- She is a C cup.

- She would not fall asleep directly after having sex. She would wait until you fell asleep before she would sleep.

- She would have a small collection of toys that she would bring into your sex life.

- She has a lot of stamina, she would want to go more than one round if you are up for it.

Wyll

-SFW-

- He liked bugs when he was a kid.

- He really likes spicy food, and will go out with Karlach to find it.

- Has a very big sweet tooth, and loves to share it with everyone in camp. He has a whole pocket in his pack dedicated to sweets. Giving them away to children you may meet. It makes him feel extra happy if there is a group that he can give it to. But he has a special place for candy that you specifically like, which he gives to you when you feel down.

- He loves Halsin, and goes to him for advice about his father.

-NSFW-

- He loves sensual romantic sex.

- He could get off to kissing. You don’t even have to fully have sex to get him all riled up.

- Man is cheesy, he will set this up when you are living together. Setting out roses leading from the front door to your bedroom. When you walk into the bedroom it is enveloped in a warm soft glow of candlelight dancing over the horned man laying across your bed that is also covered in flower petals in the shape of a heart. “Welcome home my sweet.” He would say in a sultry voice, getting off the bed to meet you. Taking a rose off the table and handing it to you.

- He would be really good at praising you.

- “Tell me how good I make you feel.”

- He is not very experienced, but that is okay, he is very willing to learn.

- He likes things to be more serious in the bedroom, but a soft giggle or smile would not go missed.

- He would have a slow pace, he would want to take his time and enjoy every moment.

Shadowheart

-SFW-

- She loves yoga. And will do it every chance that she has downtime to do it. But it is mostly just her stretching.

- She would be a Hello kitty girl, and would own so many of the stuffed animals.

- She hates classical and post- disco music. But would love R&B and jazz music. Shadow heart in the garden with soft music playing in the background. She hums along while you are on the opposite side of the garden. This was an activity that you both loved to do. She would be dressed comfortably in a shin length skirt that was covered in loose soil. She turned the music on a little louder, swaying from side to side as you both worked together, sharing in kisses here and there. It was quite an eventful afternoon.

- she hates orange juice. Like genuinely hates it and will get upset if you give it to her.

- Likes a good cup of tea. With very little sugar. But if she were to have coffee she would want a lot of sugar but no cream.

- She wants a flower garden.

- She would end up being a plant girlie.

-NSFW-

-She is somewhat experienced. Having done it with a handful of people at most.

- She would get her nipples pierced. I think it would make her even more confident than she already is.

- She is very confident in bed, she is fully okay with taking charge or letting you take control.

- She would try almost anything once. Outside of things that would hurt her too bad.

- When you are in the comforts of your own home she is really into bondage. Being bound really excites her.

- She is serious while doing it, you can laugh during it. But she does want it to be a more serious moment shared between the two of you.

- She would prefer a faster pace, it would drive her wild.

-She is a B cup.

Karlach

-SFW-

- She gets very protective of scratch, he lays near her when going to sleep for a very long time.

- She loves going swimming since it cools her down. But will refuse anyone to go with her since the water around her would get way too hot. And possibly boil anyone going in there with her. But that is in fact how she has gotten you dinner before. When everyone was literally starving and going off wine and grape soup for the 4th day in a row. Karlach brings back fish. And sets them on the table. She announced that we will be having something different for dinner than the normal everyone was so excited that they forgot to ask. Later on that night she told everyone. And was met with a still silence. Before someone cleared their throat and everyone went right back to conversation.

- She would drink a lot of water to try and cool herself down.

- Her favorite color is Blue.

- She likes doing yoga to stay limber.

- She smells like Vanilla and Amber.

-NSFW-

- She is the top, no questions asked.

- She would have nipple piercings if she could. But her heat would have them melting to her skin. So she just settles for real and natural.

- She is not very experienced. Since she was always fighting for others she never got to find much pleasures of the flesh. But don’t worry she is a quick learner.

- She would definitely be goofy in bed, joking here and there. But does know when to be more serious.

- She would enjoy slow and steady pace, she would also enjoy taking her time. But also loves a brutal pace from time to time.

- She is a D cup

Minthara

-SFW-

- She would jump out and scare children if she could.

- I feel like she eats the crust first on pizza.

- Despises ranch.

- She ends up wearing glasses later in life.

- She would only eat while standing.

- She likes red wine, and will always ask if you would like to join her in a drink.

- She becomes softer and a bit nicer when you start to get close to her.

- She could fall asleep standing up. She is also a really light sleeper.

-NSFW-

- Scary in a hot way.

- She would be into knife play. Holding a knife to yours not the other way around.

- Top.

Her favorite part of her partner's body would be the neck. Thinking that it could be the quickest way to kill you in case you threaten her. But also that it is so sensitive and gives wonderful responses when kissed.

- Gives absolutely amazing head.

- She likes the predator prey dynamic, finding it quite thrilling to chase before taking what is hers.

- loves to see you in skirts (if you wear them) Or really tight fitting pants. And will tell you all about it in confidence later.

- She is quiet, she does not moan too much.

- She is very experienced, she has enjoyed many pleasures of the flesh. And is ready and willing to show you everything she has learned.

- She is very serious during the deed, there would be no laughing.

- Brutal pace or nothing. She wants to go hard and fast bringing herself and you to a high quickly before doing it again.

- She is a D cup.

Halsin

-SFW-

- He walks around barefoot. You question how his feet are still intact from all the rough places that you have traveled together.

- He literally sleeps on the ground for more than half of the time he is in your camp. I think he just didn’t know how to bring up that he didn’t have a bed roll and just waited till he could buy one. He will never tell you that though.

- He cannot handle spicy food in the slightest.

Likes plum juice, and would drink it all the time if he could.

- He has joint pain, so he sits on the ground to relieve a bit of the pain and stress off them. He will often ask if you would like to join him for a walk. When you say yes you both walk together for a few minutes before he sits on a rock in the woods. You sit down next to him and continue your conversation. For a long while. You knew why you had stopped, This had become a favorite spot to stop for him while you are in this area. Before he got up and continued walking. He would give you a soft warm smile as you walked holding hands.

- He will carve you small gifts and sneak them into your pack as long as you have the room.

- he would partake in the grass. But would be away from anyone else so they are not bothered by him.

- He likes fruit and vegetables over meat.

-NSFW-

- He is quite fluid, anything you want to do or try he would be down to do it.

- He loves when you kiss his neck, the tenderness will make him melt.

- His ideal place to do it is in a field of flowers, or a forest area where there is a soft patch of moss.

- He likes to bite, gently of course. But he gives soft nips and bites any part of their body. Loves leaving hickeys.

- We all know this man is experienced, he is ready and willing to give you all of that experience.

- He can be goofy during, he likes when things are lighthearted but sensual.

- Animalistic pace, or soft and sensual no inbetween.

- High sex drive.

- He only masterbates when he has not gotten action in a long time. But would find a very secluded area to do so.

- It takes him a long time before he falls asleep after. But when he does he sleeps like a rock.

- he thinks you being smaller than him is very hot. Definitely has a size kink.

A little extra…

Rolan

-SFW-

- He thinks it is funny when people try to cast magic and it fails.

- He ends up taking on an apprentice.

- When he has down time he would read all the books that were in the tower.

- When he would go back to his tower after the events of the game he would be sad seeing many of the books, but went in to look for survivors that may have been inside.

- He was a spoiled child, but he grew out of the spoiled attitude.

- He is only sweet in private.

- He would not be into PDA. But does kiss you when no one is looking.

- He wants to be able to teach people magic. But, would treat them all wonderfully. He would be a great teacher.

- He would smell like cedar and old books.

- When he blushes the blush spreads over his face and up to his ears.

-NSFW-

- His favorite part of his partner's body would be their hands.

- He thinks that it is so hot to cum on your face and chest. The thought alone would make him cream his pants.

- He is not experienced. He has not been able to experiment while on his travels.

- He is loud, his moans can be heard from a fair distance away.

- He loves to degrade.

- Power bottom on a good day. Bottom.

- He can get really shy when asking for alone time.

- He loves when you take charge and tell him what to do.

- He has moderate stamina. But will only want to go for one round.

- He will fall asleep soon after finishing the deed.

————————————————————————

I'm sorry for any of them being shorter than others. I have not been able to do all of their story lines yet. I am slowly working towards finishing them all. So if any of my head cannons are very off from the characters I am very sorry! Thank you!!

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hgfictionwriter · 7 hours

Text

Maybe This Time - Part Two

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: As Jessie and you grow closer, you attend your first Thorn's game, get grilled by Janine, and Jessie relives old memories of you - both good and bad.

Warnings: None.

A/N: It's been a while, so if you need Part One here it is. Depending on the appetite for this fic, I'll either wrap it up next chapter or will explore a bit more.

"Does the offer for tickets still stand?"

Jessie's smile widened as she read your message.

"Of course. Which game do you want to see?"

When she locked her phone and tucked it into her jacket pocket she caught the curious look Janine was giving her. The blonde leaned against the lockers, hand resting on her hip.

"What's that about?" She asked with a single waggle of her eyebrows and a knowing look to the phone.

"Nothing," Jessie replied in a drawn out tone as she rolled her eyes and turned to walk to the carpark, knowing Janine would follow.

"I think you mean 'Y/N'," Janine said rather smugly as she fell in step. Jessie came to a stop and shot her friend a withering look.

"Not you, too," she complained, being immediately met with all-too-satisfied laughter from Janine.

Since Jessie texted Teagan about you a few weeks back, she'd received relentless razzing from her Bruins teammates, but now it seemed word had gotten out even more.

"You were crazy about her back in the day," Janine went on undeterred. "I remember you texting her - not as discretely as you thought, by the way - and moping over her at camps."

"Uh huh," Jessie said in a flat, unimpressed tone as they began walking again. "I did not mope," she muttered.

"Oh you moped," Janine refuted. "Big time." Before Jessie could argue further, Janine went on. "And now she lives here and so do you? And she’s single? Sounds like fate to me," she said with a cheeky smile.

"Stop it," Jessie scolded mildly. The rest of her complaint dissipated as she felt her phone buzz. She pulled it out and shot Janine a dark look at the "Oooo" noise she made upon seeing your name on the screen. Jessie turned her back to Janine and opened the message, ignoring how the girl was tall enough to see over her shoulder anyway.

"Awesome! Whatever's available, really. This weekend, next, whatever works. Thank you!"

Jessie sighed irritably as she tried to ignore how Janine was blatantly looking at the message.

"I can get you tickets for this weekend. Is two okay?"

"Why are you offering her two!" Janine protested. "You want her to bring a date or something?"

Jessie rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to make her attend alone. She can bring a friend." She averted her gaze briefly before lowering her tone. "A friend who's hopefully not a date." Immediately, she went on. “Not that I care. We’re totally different people now. There’s nothing to read into.”

“Right,” Janine deadpanned. She opened her mouth to speak, but a new message popped up and both girls’ attention was drawn to it.

"Brilliant! I'll be there. Thank you so much. I'm looking forward to it! It's been too long since I've been to one of your games."

Jessie smiled before tamping it out when she remembered Janine was studying her.

“Cool. I’ll send you the tickets.”

She was going to write something further, something witty, but not with Janine hanging over her shoulder and analyzing every word and move.

“Imagine if you get benched this Saturday,” Janine said followed with a laugh. Jessie glowered at her.

“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” Jessie said haughtily, recovering from the dirty look she shot her friend. “It’s not like she’s here to see me specifically.”

“Uh, I think that’s exactly what she’s doing. Remember? She doesn’t even like soccer?” Janine pointed out exaggeratedly before muttering. “Which would totally be a red flag, but your Bruins girls seemed to like her, so I guess she can’t be all bad.”

“Oh my gosh,” Jessie chided. “Her not caring about soccer is not a reflection of her character or worth as a human being. God, Janine.” She rolled her eyes and Janine made a face at her.

“You know what does though? How much emotional turmoil she put you through in university. I can - and do - judge her for that,” Janine retorted, now earnest.

Jessie shot her a look as they reached their cars. They stood to face one another and she sighed.

“It’s not her fault,” she said quietly. “I never told her how I feel. Felt.” Jessie glowered at herself this time, rolling her eyes. “She didn’t string me along or anything like that. Anytime I was moody - or mopey - it was my own doing. We were really close and I wanted more, but I was too shy. And I’d get jealous of girls who did have the nerve to ask her out and date her and it was my own fault.”

“This isn’t the 19th century, Jessie. She could’ve asked you out, too,” Janine countered and Jessie huffed in frustration, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

“Well. I guess. But. I don’t know.” Jessie kicked at the ground with her sneaker. “I think she maybe was now and then? Like - not explicitly I guess. But looking back I think she wanted me to reciprocate more and I didn’t. Maybe.”

Janine arched an eyebrow at her.

“What do you mean?”

Jessie’s frustration grew, but she took a breath.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged sharply and redhead out to open her car door. “It doesn’t matter. That’s all in the past anyway.”

She didn’t have to look at Janine to know the girl was processing how far to push this. Mercifully, she relented.

“‘Kay. Well, I've push my judgement aside. And truthfully, if you like her, that says a lot - she must be pretty great. I look forward to meeting her on Saturday. And I will be nice. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Jessie said, giving Janine a grateful look. “See you tomorrow.”

“Later.”

——————

Saturday’s game rolled around and Jessie was in the locker room getting ready when her phone buzzed. Normally, she didn’t check her phone or keep it nearby when she was preparing for a game, but, you know, what if you had a question or a problem with the tickets? She clearly had to be available.

When she checked her phone and saw your name, she smiled. For the first week or so anytime you appeared on her phone Jessie felt a spark of surprise, but that had now diminished. Not in a bad way, but you two had been texting quite regularly and it wasn’t a shock anymore to hear from you.

Ready to watch a ball be kicked around and chased for 90 minutes!

She actually laughed when she read the message, but it was cut short when she saw the selfie you sent with it. On one hand, you looked beautiful and she smirked at how you’d bought a Thorns scarf and hat. On the other hand, old feelings came up when she saw you and your…friend. Whoever that may be. It was a silly notion, but it felt too familiar.

Jessie sighed.

What - no Fleming jersey?

Lol. I guess we’ll see how today goes as to whether or not I can be swayed. I mean, that’s a commitment.

Jessie's attention was drawn away when Coach announced it was time for warm-ups.

"Off your phone," Janine said dramatically with a bobble of her head. "You're so focused you missed the update to the starting lineup."

"What?" Jessie asked, eyebrows furrowed and attention now fully on her friend.

"Yeah," Janine said pointedly as she crossed her arms. "You really didn’t hear? You're not starting anymore. You're on the bench; Coach is thinking of pretty much resting you for the game."

"What?" Jessie asked again with greater intensity, sitting forward. She watched as Janine's stern expression melted into laughter. Jessie's concern and confusion immediately shifted to irritation and she stared daggers at the blonde.

"Oh my God. I can't believe you fell for that," Janine teased. "Don't worry," she went on, rolling her eyes, "nothing's changed. But now I know how much you want to show off for Y/N."

"You're ridiculous," Jessie scolded as she stood. "I'd be upset any day about getting suddenly benched. What are you talking about." Janine still snickered.

"You gotta point her out to me when we get on the pitch."

"No," Jessie said firmly as she typed out one last text.

"Time for warm-ups. It usually takes us a long time to get out of here after games, but if you're around later on maybe we can grab a drink together."

Jessie fought off the impending blush and tucked her phone into her bag before jogging after the rest of the girls.

Out on the pitch she put in quite a valiant effort to not look in your general direction. It was all rather pointless, really, it's not like you were close enough to the pitch for her to see you clearly or vice versa, but still. She also readily ignored the way Janine tracked her stare for any indication of where you were sitting.

By the time the anthem rolled around, Jessie's resolution waned. She stood there with her shoulders back, hands clasped behind her as the music echoed through the stadium. Despite her intentions, her gaze wandered over to the section you were in. Her gaze lingered long enough for her to pick out the spot you were in. Again, you weren't super clearly defined that far out, but it was you.

She bit the inside of her cheek and fought off a blush. She refused. This was a new time, a new Jessie, and she'd be damned if she'd shrink and blush just because you were here. She'd played in front of sold out stadiums on the world stage - why should she care if you were watching? Still, her mind raced back to when you first came to one of her games.

She'd played with the Bruins for over a year by the time you became friends. Jessie had really been downplaying the whole soccer thing for the initial part of your friendship - she didn't want it to define her and in a way it felt like bragging. She actually liked that you didn't know her for soccer and when someone else in class once made a big deal about her, you looked momentarily perplexed, but unfazed and you both immediately went back to talking about nanomaterials.

In fact, Jessie never actually invited you to one of her games. The concept just seemed so…egotistical. That said, she remembered when the starting whistle was about to blow at one of the games and she made the mistake of scanning the crowd. Just the memory of the shock and nerves that washed over her upon seeing you in the stands nearly caused her body to recreate the same reaction in this moment. She took a deep breath.

Jessie was so stunned to see you at the game that the whistle blew and the game started while she remained rooted to her spot for several seconds, belatedly stumbling like an idiot after the ball long after it shot past her. She was off the entire game - shots going wide, poor challenges, and somehow ending up flat on the pitch more times than she could recall in recent years. It was a game from hell for her.

After the game, she was so embarrassed she scurried off the field, showered, got changed and rushed back to her dorm. Only later did she learn you'd looked for her after the game. Next time she saw you in class, she sunk in her chair, anxiously tapping her pencil on her notebook and determinedly stared forward. You greeted her like normal, but Jessie was fidgety and gave monosyllabic answers. You eventually congratulated her on the game. Despite Jessie's less than stellar performance, the team still won. Jessie guffawed and felt heat ascending on her face. She shuffled in her seat and claimed she didn't know you'd attended the game. Despite her aloofness, you were still very complimentary.

Thankfully, in future games Jessie was more like herself. But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't nervous every time you showed up. She just never wanted to make a fool of herself in front of you.

This time, however, as the first whistle blew, Jessie charged forward, immediately winning possession and sending a long through ball past an unsuspecting defensive line for Sophia to chase down. A strong start for Jessie, followed by well-timed tackles, solid passes, deft footwork and by the end of the game - an assist. She was subbed out in the final 15 minutes, but she felt great about her performance.

After the final whistle and a 2-0 result, the team walked the pitch greeting and thanking the fans. Jessie walked along with her teammates, clapping along with the fans and waving periodically when Janine ran up next to her, nudging her with her shoulder as she did so.

"Okay, so where is she? Oh, and congrats. You put on a bit of a clinic today, so I'm sure she'll be very impressed."

Jessie rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"You're not going to be able to see her anyway. And who knows, maybe she left already."

"Another point against her," Janine joked, ignoring the look Jessie shot her.

Jessie was about to prep a rebuttal when her eyes fell upon you. You were hanging back behind the fans who had clamoured down to the barriers and were reaching over with gear to sign. While her pulse quickened at the sight of you, an uncomfortable pit formed in her stomach when she saw you leaning in and whispering to the girl you were with. Jessie quickly shook out her head in a vain attempt to rid herself of this nagging - and totally unwarranted - jealousy.

"Wait - which one is she," Janine asked, urgency in her voice as she started pushing into Jessie to try and gauge where she was looking.

"Oh for goodness sake," Jessie muttered, though grateful for the distraction. She sighed, but described you to Janine and gestured vaguely. As she did so, you looked her way and you caught one another's eye. Jessie swallowed her discomfort and gave you a wave with a half smile, which you returned with a bright smile and an enthusiastic wave.

"Oh," Janine said flatly. "So that's why you like her."

"What?" Jessie asked, her voice suddenly high in question.

"Well, I don't play for the same team as you, but, she's a looker. I'll give you that." She gave a brief eye roll a moment later as she relented further. "And I guess she's gotta be smart, too."

"I don't like her, Janine," Jessie said through nearly gritted teeth. "Not that like anymore. She's just an old friend."

"Well, I'd like to talk with this 'old friend' of yours," Janine said, and before Jessie could react to the glint she caught in Janine's eye, the blonde was up on her tip toes and waving you down, insisting for you to come down to the pitch. You hesitated, but, standard Janine, she was very persistent. You looked to Jessie for direction and though Jessie wanted to just get swallowed up by the ground over this whole display, she channeled her energy and instead gave you an easy nod and waved you down as well.

It took every ounce of effort for Jessie to retain her composure as you descended the steps and found an opening in the crowd.

"So what's the verdict?" Jessie asked as you came up to one another at the barrier. Her eyes flicked momentarily back to your friend who stood behind you. "More or less entertaining than a Bruins game?"

You chuckled, a wide smile forming on your face and Jessie unknowingly smiled back.

"Well I don’t want to say anything negative about your Bruins days. I had fun - I know you don't believe me, but I did. That said, a game in front of like 25,000 fans is pretty spectacular. The energy in here was crazy." You gave a facetious roll of your eyes and tacked on with a smirk, "And I guess you played alright, too."

Jessie was about to riff off of your comment when Janine stepped forward and extended her hand.

"Hey, you must be Y/N. My name is Janine - nice to meet you," she said with a polite smile. You readily shook her hand.

"It's so nice to finally meet you. Jessie's always talked so highly of you."

"Ah," Janine said as she gave Jessie a lingering look before smiling back. "Jessie's always talked very highly of you, too."

You blushed slightly as you pulled a slight face, shifting your gaze to Jessie.

"That is much too generous of her," you said. "I would've expected her to talk more about how annoying I could be during study sessions."

"Nobody could be more annoying than Janine when I was trying to study," Jessie swiftly cut in. She ignored the affronted look the blonde shot her. Jessie looked back at you and quickly added, "Not that I thought you were annoying. You were one of the only people in my life that took studying seriously." Jessie took a breath and offered your companion a tight smile.

"You must be…"

"Oh!" You said as you turned on the spot. "Oh, I'm so sorry. This is my friend [y/friend's name]. She's actually been asking me to come to a Thorns game for a while, so - it finally worked out."

"Oh really?" Jessie asked, feeling annoyingly uneasy before remembering her manners. "Oh, and I'm Jessie. Nice to meet you."

"Very polite of you to introduce yourself even though you're famous," [y/friend] said with a laugh. "It's nice to meet you, too. I'm a fan of both of you and am stoked that you're playing for Portland these days. Imagine my surprise when y/n just casually drops that she got a personal invite from Jessie Fleming herself. I didn't believe her until she showed me a picture of you two from university."

Now Jessie did blush, brushing her hair back with her hand. Oh. A friend. And legitimately seemed like just a friend. She inwardly scolded herself for getting so worked up.

"Well, it sounds like we should all grab a drink or something together. Are you free tonight? I'd love to get to know you both better," Janine said with her most charming smile. You and Jessie shared a look.

"Uh, I mean, you mentioned a drink," you said as you gestured to Jessie. "So - I'm up for it if you are."

She'd really been hoping more for a drink one on one, but she supposed she'd have to adapt. She gave a casual shrug.

"Yeah, sounds good."

-----

"Another round?"

Conversation halted as the four of you looked to the server. You were the first to reply.

"Sure, I'll have another. Can I grab the pilsner this time?"

"I'll have another, too." Y/friend jumped in. "Same as before."

"Sure thing. Anyone else?"

Janine waved her off, but Jessie's eyes darted around the table as she debated what to do. A second round wasn't usually her go-to, and frankly, could be slightly dangerous territory when it came to her inhibitions. If you were anything like you were back in university, a second round wouldn't affect you much at all. Still, much like years before, Jessie felt the need to keep up.

"Sure, I'll have another."

"You got it. Be right back."

"So, Y/N, I think we must compare notes. Tell me what Jessie was like in university. I mean, I have my stories from camp and competition days, but I don't know UCLA Jessie," Janine said, leaning in conspiratorially.

"Oh come on, you two," Jessie complained pre-emptively with a roll of her head.

"Hey, why are you calling me out?" You asked, tone rising. "I didn't even agree." You dropped the offended act and leaned in mimicking Janine. "But of course we have to compare notes."

Janine clapped her hands in victory and sat back expectantly.

"You know what," you started as you reached into your pocket to retrieve your phone and started going through it, "after we ran into each other. I went through some old photos and look what I found."

"Oh sweet God," Jessie muttered as she sunk low in her seat and brought a hand up to cover her face.

You turned your phone around and held it out for Jessie first, though Janine immediately leaned right in. The second she saw the photo, Jessie's face began to burn with embarrassment.

"Delete." She shook her head, averting her eyes from the photo. "Get rid of it."

"Come on!" You protested as you drew the phone back. You looked down at the photo of Jessie kneeling in her UCLA blues with an upside down visor on her head looking comically serious.

"Gangster." Janine said with a laugh.

"Well, I thought you looked cute," you said primly. You were flipping to another photo and missed the look Jessie and Janine shared. "'Kay, how about this?" You held out your phone again, this time showing Jessie sporting a water gun at a campus party.

"Again. Delete!" Jessie said, hiding her face further, but now had to laugh.

"You were so sweet," you said. "You were taking that water fight very seriously, but you mercifully didn't shoot me. Which - thank you - cause I was getting rocked already." You gave her a smirk. "In fact, I think you even stopped a shot or two for me."

Jessie arched an eyebrow and gave a light shrug. "Maybe."

A moment later you started laughing, pulling a confused look out of the rest of the table. You waved apologetically. "Sorry - I just remembered. You blasted [y/ex] in the face so bad she was choking for like 5 minutes after. I guess that's not funny, but it kind of was."

Jessie blushed. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that. It just kind of happened - I felt bad after." She certainly didn't forget. And it certainly wasn't an accident. Though she did feel slightly bad.

"Oh, and I showed you this," you said to y/friend before turning the phone to Jessie and Janine again. "This is my favourite picture of us. Do you remember that day?"

Jessie took in the photo of the two of you sitting on the wall at the beach with your backs to the ocean at sunset. You were flush against one another, an arm around each other and your head was leaned against hers.

Jessie remembered this picture well. She'd looked at it many, too many, times. It had been one of her favourites too. Looking at it brought a wave of melancholy over her though. While she loved it, it brought her right back to when she'd stare at photos of you in the dark of her dorm or hotel room and think about the relationship she wished she had with you.

"Yeah, I remember. That was a good night," she said simply with a small smile.

"We were the last ones left around the bonfire that night," you recollected. "And you walked me back to my dorm - gosh, it had to be what, like 3 am by then."

"Yeah, I remember your girlfriend getting pissed with you about it, too," Jessie said without thinking.

Your smile faded slightly, though you held Jessie's gaze. You eventually gave a nod.

"Yeah, I remember that too." You scoffed lightly as you took a sip of your drink. "I can say this now - enough time has passed - my girlfriends always had an issue with you. Which should've been my immediate red flag for each of them. Because anyone who doesn't like you is problematic."

Janine leaned in without skipping a beat. "Okay, you can't just leave it at that. Tell me more. And yes - you're right - major red flags."

This time you were the one to blush. You fiddled with the glass a bit before shrugging, your eyes drifting to the TV in the corner of the establishment.

"I-I don't know," you stammered. "They were just insecure, I guess."

This made Jessie's ears perk up and she frowned deeply at you. Your face burned hotter as you felt the table's eyes on you.

"What?" You dismissed with a shrug and a light wave of your hand. "Is that so shocking? I mean, you and I were close. And we hung out a lot. And hello - co-captain," you shot her a momentarily teasing look, "of the soccer team, Dean's list, Olympic athlete, very charming, etc., the list goes on. Of course they were threatened."

Jessie finished a large swig of her drink, setting down the pint glass more heavily than intended on the table. Her face screwed up as she said, "That's the silliest thing I've ever heard."

Why would they have ever been jealous of her. They were the lucky ones. It was their bed you might climb into at night, their lips you would kiss and their hands you would hold.

"Jessie!" You laughed, leaning into the table again. "You are too humble for your own good. I told you. You had a lot of appeal."

"Well, not enough," Jessie muttered as she took another sip and raised her eyebrows, her gaze travelling over to Janine who was watching her tentatively. The blonde cleared her throat.

"So what I'm hearing is that UCLA Jessie wasn't all that different than national camp Jessie - just with marginally more debauchery," she interjected, diffusing any mounting tension.

It took you a moment, but you offered her a smile of agreement.

"Seems that way." A beat passed and you offered Jessie another smile. "Do you have any pictures from back then? You always had your camera out."

Your question broke Jessie out of her spiral. She wracked her brain momentarily for a response.

"Uh, no. I lost a lot of my old photos."

In reality, she deleted and threw out all of her pictures of you. All except one. It was that night at the beach, there was a moment of comfortable silence between you two and the last rays of sunlight were dipping below the horizon. You were looking out onto the sea, looking so peaceful and just so beautiful. That was her favourite photo of you.

Even when, one night in London, when she got home from a team outing and you had been on her mind all evening despite the fact that you hadn't texted her back in days; when she finally decided to put an end to this pointless and hopeless pining, she couldn't bring herself to delete that one photo.

Jessie ignored the flash of hurt that crossed your face.

"That's too bad," you said with a half smile. Jessie returned it and the mood at the table took a palpable dip. A few moments of quiet passed.

"Well, you two are in the same city again. You can take new ones together," y/friend offered brightly. You gave a light chuckle.

"I guess that depends on if you're too famous for me." You gave Jessie a smirk. Jessie was still in her head, until Janine nudged her under the table. She took a sip of her drink .

"Well, my schedule's pretty packed," Jessie said with a smirk of her own. The alcohol made it feel like she was on auto-pilot. She sat back and gave you a wink. "But I can make time for you."

You seemed caught off guard and gave a slightly awkward laugh though your cheeks blushed pink. You spoke somewhat wryly, "Well thank you."

Jessie cleared her throat and sat forward in her seat again, speaking earnestly this time. "No, seriously. Of course I'm not too famous to spend time with you. Now that's the silliest thing I've ever heard."

You propped an elbow on the table and rest your chin in your raised palm.

"Well, I look forward to making some new memories together."

Jessie held up her glass to you.

"Deal."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #portland thorns #janine beckie

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doctorbitchcrxft · 3 days

Text

Nightmare | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of abuse, descriptions of suicide, canon violence, canon gore, mentions of parental abuse (plsplspls heed these warnings and take care of yourself!!)

Word Count: 7370

A/N: Bye me when I scheduled this to post a day early...... goodnight. lmfao. enjoy!!!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

While Dean drove and you lounged sleepily in the backseat, Sam was on the phone asking for the identity behind a license plate he’d seen in a dream. Sam had come to wake you up from a peaceful slumber in the middle of the night, shouting that you needed to leave then and there.

He didn’t elaborate much until he got in the car, but even then, his explanation was frantic and disjointed.

“Sammy, relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare,” Dean tried to coax his brother.

Sam was unconvinced. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean it. Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see,” Dean said calmly.

“It felt different Dean. Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica.”

“But in those, you were dreaming about your house, your girlfriend,” you jumped in. “But this guy… have you ever seen him before?”

Sam shook his head.

“Exactly,” Dean answered. “Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan.”

Sam sighed. “I don't know.” He perked up when the man on the phone began to speak to him again. “Yes, I'm here.” Sam side-eyed you and Dean. “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?... Got it. Thanks.” Sam hung up. “Checks out. How far are we?”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “At least a couple hours.”

“Drive faster,” Sam ordered his brother.

***

When you arrived at the home of the man from Sam’s dream, you were surprised and dismayed to see police cars, ambulance, and a body bag being rolled out of the garage of the home. You looked up at Sam, who was upset, as you walked over to bystanders.

The bystanders explained that Jim Miller had been found in his garage with his engine going and the garage door closed. It had been ruled a suicide. You knew from Sam, though, it wasn’t. Speaking of whom, he walked away from the crowd and back over to the car.

“Sam, you couldn’t have done anything,” you told him.

“Then why am I having these dreams if I can’t stop it?” He sounded agitated, but you knew it was more at the situation than you.

“Sam, we got here as fast as we could,” Dean responded, approaching you and his brother.

Sam shook his head and sighed. “So what do you think killed him?”

“Maybe the guy just killed himself?” the older brother suggested. “Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all.”

The younger one shook his head again. “I'm telling you, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, guys. I watched it trap him in the garage.”

“Did you see what it was?” you questioned.

Sam got a little worked up. “No. I don't know why I'm having these dreams. I don't know what the hell is happening.”

You stared at Sam for a moment, as did Dean.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “We’re just… worried about you, dude.”

“Well, don't look at me like that!” Sam was becoming more panicked by the second.

“I'm not looking at you like anything,” Dean responded. “Though, I gotta say, you do look like crap.”

“Nice. Thanks.” Sam made a bitchface.

You opened the door for Sam. “C’mon, dude. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

“We'll check out the house; talk to the family,” Dean continued.

“Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us," you told him.

Dean thought for a moment. “Yeah, you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to."

“Who?”

***

“Are you sure this was necessary?” you asked, tugging at the habit draped over your head; hair itching underneath it. You wore a long sleeve shirt with a knee-length dress over the top. Dean had decided to dress you and his brother in nun and priest outfits respectively.

“Just trust me,” Dean answered. He rapped his knuckles on the door of the Miller household where they were having Jim MIller’s wake.

Sam sighed. “This has gotta be a whole new low for us.”

“Yeah, but it’s the most put-together your hair’s ever looked,” you smirked, referencing the copious amounts of gel you’d combed through his hair.

Sam deadpanned at you just as the door open.

“Good afternoon. I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Stanley and Sister Frehley. We're new junior clergy over at St Augustine's. May we come in?” Dean introduced.

The man nodded.

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Sam told the man who had let you inside.

“It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed.”

You could hit Dean. He was really laying it on thick.

The man snapped, “Look, you wanna pitch your whole 'Lord has a plan' thing? Fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead.”

“Roger. Please!” a blonde older woman scolded from behind him.

“Excuse me.” Roger left.

“I'm sorry about my brother-in-law. He's… he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?” the woman, who you assumed was the former Mrs. Miller, asked.

“That would be great.”

Dean sat on the couch next to you and Sam took the armchair. Ms. Miller poured each of you a cup. “It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now.”

“Of course. After all, we are all god's children,” Dean smiled.

You shot him a look, waiting for the woman to walk away. “Tone it down, Father,” you whispered to him.

Ms. Miller returned before Dean could reply to you, and he instead spoke to her. “So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?”

“Nothing like that.” Her voice began breaking. “We had our ups and downs like everyone, but we were happy. I just don't understand… how Jim could do something like this.”

“I'm so sorry you had to find him like that,” Sam told her.

Ms. Miller looked behind her at a boy leaning against the wall whose face was etched into a scowl. “Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him.”

“Do you mind if maybe I go talk to him?” Sam asked.

Ms. Miller smiled. “Oh, thank you, Father.”

You looked around the living room as Sam walked away. “You have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?”

“We moved in about five years ago,” she answered.

“Some of these old houses bring all kinds of headaches,” you continued. “Weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night. That kind of thing.”

Ms. Miller shook her head. “We don’t have any of that. It’s been perfect.”

Dean pursed his lips. “Huh. May I use your restroom?”

“Oh sure, it's just up the stairs,” the woman responded.

Dean stood, taking a cocktail sausage on his way up the stairs.

“I apologize for Father Simmons. He’s… still learning,” you sighed once Dean was out of earshot.

Ms. Miller gave as much of a laugh as she could muster. “It’s okay. He’s got a good heart.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you for your time,” you said, and began discreetly heading up the stairs.

When you met Dean and Sam on the second floor, they shook their heads indicating they knew the question you were going to ask.

“Seriously?” you chewed the inside of your lip. “Nothing?”

“Zip,” Dean answered.

“Okay then. Back to square one.”

***

Sam left you and Dean alone in his motel room for a bit to do some research on the Miller home’s history. You helped him clean weapons he’d brought to his and Sam’s motel room.

You took the floor. You always did. You just liked to sit on the floor as opposed to the itchy quilts that normally adorned the motel beds. And it gave you more space to spread the weapons and cleaning supplies out. Without looking up at Dean as you continued to polish Dean’s handgun, you asked, “So, what’re your thoughts on your brother’s sixth sense?”

Dean blew out a huff of air. “I don’t have any thoughts.”

“Dean, don’t lie to me. Spill.”

He hesitated. “I just don’t know. I mean, I’m not psychic. My mom wasn’t. My dad isn’t. So where the hell would he have gotten it from?”

“I’m not sure,” you said earnestly, pursing your lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Does he scare you? I see the look on your face sometimes, especially over the past few days. I can’t exactly place what it means.”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” he sighed. “I mean, I’ve known this kid his whole life. And suddenly he— he’s predicting people’s deaths? Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Well, there’s the difference. It scares me that he’s going through this, but he doesn’t scare me. He’s still Sam,” you answered.

“Well, yeah. Obviously he’s still Sam. I just— I guess I’m less scared of him and more scared for him. I don’t know.” You could practically see the gears in his head turning.

You stared at him as he continued wiping down his weapons and cleaning the chambers of his guns. You decided the reason why your gut had churned over Cassie in Ohio was because you were used to being the only woman in his life. You loved how honest he was starting to get with you; especially because you didn’t even think he was that honest with himself.

“What?” His question broke your train of thought.

“Huh?”

He smirked. “You’re staring. See something you like?”

You scoffed. “You wish. I was thinking.”

“ ‘Bout what?”

“That’s confidential,” you remarked.

He gave you a look. “Mm-hmm.”

Sam came through the door at that moment.

“What do you have?” Dean asked his brother.

“A whole lotta nothing.” Sam sat on the bed next to your spot on the floor. “Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built.”

“Not even the land?” you questioned.

“No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property.”

“Hey, man, I told you,” the older brother said, “I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada.”

“And the family said everything was normal?”

“Yeah, nothing I asked rang any bells for Ms. Miller,” you replied.

“Well, even if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something?” Dean added. “I used the infer-red thermal scanner man, and there was nothing.”

“So what, you guys think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?”

“I don’t know. I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house,” Dean answered.

Sam began rubbing his temples. “Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house.” He paused and took a deep breath, holding his head. You straightened up in confusion. “Maybe it's just— Gosh.” Sam was clearly in agony. “Maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?”

“What’s going on?” you asked.

He started to groan and sink to the floor next to you. “My head.”

You put your hand on Sam’s shoulder to steady him while his brother crouched before him. “Hey! What's going on? Talk to me.” Dean was desperately trying to get his brother’s attention, but it seemed he was zoning further and further out. Sam’s head would have hit the floor if it weren’t for you and Dean holding onto him when he dropped.

“Sam?! Sammy?!” Dean began shaking his younger brother by either side of his face trying to get him to wake up.

You jumped up to go get him a cold towel for his head. While you were in the bathroom searching for a washcloth to dampen, Sam shot up. “It's happening again. Something's gonna kill Roger Miller.”

***

Sam made you and Dean leave pretty much immediately. Dean was trying to remain calm for his brother on the way to Roger Miller’s apartment, but it was clear to you he was beginning to freak out.

“If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over. Y'know, cause the upholstery…” Dean sassed.

Sam’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Just drive, Dean.” Sam looked over to his brother, huffed out a breath, and looked back to the road. “I'm scared, man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful.”

Dean briefly looked over to him. “Come on man, you'll be alright. It'll be fine.”

“What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?”

“We’ll figure it out, Sam,” you assured him.

“We've faced the unexplainable every day,” the older brother added. “This is just another thing.”

The brunet shook his head. “No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out.”

You looked at Dean expectantly.

“This doesn't freak me out.”

You leaned over the seat and hugged Sam around the shoulders, and you could feel some of the tension leave his body as you did so.

***

You and the boys were just a second too late. Roger wouldn’t let you into the apartment building, so you opted to sprint up the fire escape. In the midst of you running up the steps, you heard metal grating against metal and a wet squelching noise.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, urging yourself to go faster. You made it up the stairs just before the other two could and discovered Roger’s head lying below his apartment window in a flower box. Your stomach churned, but you knew you had to get out of there quickly.

“Start wiping down your fingerprints,” Dean told you and Sam, holding out his bandana to his brother, “we don't want the cops to know we were here. Come on, come on!”

You used your jacket sleeve to push up the window of the apartment that led to the fire escape. “Dean, I’m gonna take a look inside. You coming?”

He followed you in to quickly search the apartment before you hit the road once more. Just like at the Miller’s house, you saw nothing.

“I saw something, in the vision,” Sam explained once you’d gotten back to the car. “Like a dark shape. Something was— something was stalking Roger.”

“Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?” Dean questioned.

“No, it's connected to the family themselves. So what do you think, like a vengeful spirit?”

“I mean, potentially,” you responded. “Some spirits ‘ll latch onto families, follow ‘em for years—”

“Angiak, Banshees,” Sam added.

“Basically like a curse. So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy.”

“And now the something is out for revenge,” Sam continued. “And the men in their family are dying.”

“Hey, you think Max is in Danger?” you asked.

“Let's figure it out before he is.” Dean drove faster.

“Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people,” the brunet continued.

“What's that?”

“Both our families are cursed.”

‘Oh, shit,’ you thought.

Dean huffed. “Our family's not cursed! We just… had our dark spots.”

Sam snorted. “Our dark spots are… pretty dark.”

Dean’s face scrunched uncomfortably. “You're.... dark.”

“I think you guys are just weird,” you laughed.

“You’re… weird.”

“Dean, I feel like I’m listening to your brain short-circuit in real time.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

***

You and the boys went back to the Millers’ house dressed in your priest and nun outfits. The shifty boy from the funeral that Sam had talked to opened the door.

“My mom's resting, she's pretty wrecked,” he explained. “All these people kept coming with like, casseroles? I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know cause nothing says I'm sorry like a tuna casserole.”

Sam smiled sadly, and Max smiled back. He gestured to the living room and all of you took a seat.

“How are you holding up?” you asked the boy.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Your dad and your uncle were close,” Sam added.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little.” Max’s tone made him seem uncomfortable, and something about him had you uneasy, too.

“But not lately?”

“No, it's not that. It's just… we used to be neighbors when I was a kid,” Max explained. “We lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time.”

Sam nodded. “So how was it in that house when you were a kid?”

A look of surprise crossed Max’s face. “It was fine. Why?”

“All good memories?” Dean pressed further. “Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?”

Max shook his head. “What do ya....why do you ask?”

Red flags were popping up in the back of your mind repeatedly. Your hands clenched your skirt tightly.

“Just a question,” Dean answered.

“No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy.”

“Good. That's good. Well you must be exhausted. We should take off.” Something in Dean’s voice told you that he was sensing the same things you were.

***

Once you were back at the motel and changed, you went to the boys’ room.

“Guys, something is not right about the way Max was acting,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean responded. “I think we gotta go visit that house.”

***

And so, you did. The three of you headed to the edge of town to visit Max’s childhood home.

You found a man outside of his home tending his garden when you and the boys arrived at the Millers’ old home. “Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?” Dean asked.

The man responded, “Yeah, almost twenty years now. It's nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy?”

You shook your head. “No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe.”

“Yeah the Millers. They had a little boy called Max,” the older Winchester added.

“Yeah, I remember. The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what's this about, is that poor kid ok?” the man asked you.

You tilted your head in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Well, in my life I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street; he was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of.”

Your heart clenched. You knew exactly what that was like.

“This was going on regularly?” Sam inquired.

“Practically every day,” the older man explained. “In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy. But the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good.”

“Now you, said step-mother.”

The older man looked off as if remembering. “I think his real mother died. Some sorta… accident. Car accident I think,” the man responded.

Sam raised a hand to his head and grimaced.

You turned your head to him. “You okay?”

Sam winced but nodded nonetheless.

“Thank you for your time,” you told the man you’d been talking to. You then began to help Dean toward the car. Once you’d gotten him settled inside, his head lolled back against the seat. While Dean drove, you leaned over the backseat to keep an eye on Sam.

When he woke back up, he said, “Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing.”

“What? How do you know?” you questioned.

“I saw him,” the brunet replied.

“How's he pulling it off?” Dean jumped in.

‘I don't know, like telekinesis?”

‘What, so, he's psychic? A spoon bender?”

“I didn't even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died. These visions, this whole time— I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess— because we're so alike?” You could see Sam’s mind racing.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed frustratedly. “What? He’s nothing like you, dude.”

“Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both…”

Dean gruffly cut his brother off. “Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third.”

“Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane.”

“Sam, that doesn’t justify murdering your entire family,” you responded. You knew that better than anybody.

“(Y/N)...”

Dean pulled over in front of the Millers’ current home. “He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him.”

“We're not going to kill Max,” Sam protested.

“Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind’?” You nearly laughed at Dean’s response despite the situation.

“No way. Forget it.”

Dean turned the engine off and faced his brother.

“Dean, He's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one,” Sam pleaded.

The older brother paused. “Alright, fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else.” He removed his signature Taurus pistol from the glove compartment. You grabbed yours from under your seat and shoved it into your jeans.

You and the boys practically broke into the home.

Mrs. Miller and Max were standing in the kitchen. Both seemed upset. “Fathers?” Mrs. Miller asked. “Sister?”

Max gritted his teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Dean said.

“Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?” Sam asked.

The boy seemed suspicious. “About what?”

“It's— It's private. I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it,” answered the brunet. “We won't be long at all though, I promise.”

Max nodded and went to follow you out the front door. Before Dean could open the door, the doorknob pulled out of his hands.

“You're not priests!” Max yelled. Dean went to draw his pistol, but Max pulled it away with his powers and slid it across the floor to himself. He pointed the gun at you and the brothers, and you quickly drew yours.

“Max, what's happening?” Ms. Miller asked, voice shaking.

“Shut up,” the boy gritted through his teeth.

“What are you doing?”

“I said, shut up!” Max flung his step-mother across the room, and she hit her head on the kitchen counter. The blonde crumbled to the ground unconscious.

“Max, calm down,” Sam urged, trying to gesture to you to put your gun down.

“Who are you?” Max’s eyes pooled with angry tears.

“We just wanna talk.”

“Yeah, right, that’s why you brought these!” He indicated the gun he was holding as well as yours.

“That was a mistake all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max ok? Just please, just hear me out.”

“About what?” the teen’s voice calmed down only slightly.

“I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened,” Sam explained.

Max faltered.

“I'm having visions, Max. About you.”

The boy laughed coldly. “You’re crazy.”

“So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” Sam tapped his eye. “Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max, look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here all right? I think I'm here to help you.”

Max began to cry harder. “No one can help me.”

“Let me try. We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, (Y/N), and Alice out of here,” Sam said.

“No way,” you and Dean said in unison.

The chandelier above you began to shake. “Nobody leaves this house!”

“Max, c’mon, dude, let Sam and I talk to you. We’ll send Dean and your stepmom upstairs, and I’ll put this away,” you said, referring to your gun.

“Look, Max. You're in charge here, alright, we all know that,” Sam told him. “No one's going to do anything that you don't want to do but we’re talking five minutes here man.”

“Five minutes?” Max looked over to Dean. “Go.”

Dean rushed to Ms. Miller and gently brought her upstairs. Dean took one last look at you and Sam before going upstairs.

“Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through—”

You cut Sam off. “I can.”

Max looked at you, surprised and angry. “How?”

“My parents did the same thing your dad and stepmom did to you,” you explained. “But I’m not gonna kill somebody over it. This has to stop, dude.”

“It will, after my stepmother—”

“Do you really think that’s gonna stop it?” you asked. “Really?”

He stared at you, and you felt you were beginning to get through to him.

“Does it feel different now that your dad and uncle are gone? Do you feel better?” you pressed further.

“No, but it will,” spat Max through his tears.

“I don’t think so, kid,” you replied. “It doesn’t feel different for me. My parents are dead and gone, and it still fucking hurts.”

“Yeah, but at least you don’t have to look at them every day.”

“Can I be honest with you though? I wish I could. No matter how many times my dad hit me, I still want his approval. I still want to see him again.”

Max shook his head. “Not me. I’m happy my dad’s gone. You haven’t been beaten in a while, huh?”

You replied, “No.”

“Try last week.” He lifted up his shirt to reveal a large bruise littering his ribcage. “My dad still hit me. Just in places people wouldn't see it. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly.

“When I first found out I could move things it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless but now I had this. So last week Dad gets drunk. The first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell, first time in a long time. And then, I knew what I had to do,” Max explained.

“Why didn't you just leave?” you asked.

“It wasn't about getting away. Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about… not being afraid. When my Dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?” Max asked you and Sam.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my Mom's death,” Max continued.

Sam’s interest was piqued. “Why would he blame you for your Mom's death?”

Your breath caught in your throat when Max gave his explanation. “Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault.”

“She died in your nursery?” Sam questioned.

“There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!”

You discreetly looked to Sam.

“Listen to me, Max. What your dad said, about what happened to your Mom. It's real,” Sam told the boy. “It happened to my Mom too, exactly the same. My nursery, my crib, my dad saw her on the ceiling.”

Max laughed coldly. “Your dad must have been as drunk as mine.”

“No, no. It's the same thing, Max. The same thing killed our mothers.” You could tell Sam was excited by the missing puzzle piece being filled in. “This must be why I'm having visions during the day. Why they're getting more intense. 'Cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started six, seven months ago, right, out of the blue?”

“How'd you know that?” Max tried to remain calm, but you could tell he was intrigued.

“Cause that's when my abilities started, Max,” Sam went on. “Yours seem to me much further along but still, this has to mean something right? I mean for some reason, you and I… you and I were chosen.”

Max’s tears subsided. “For what?”

The younger Winchester sighed, “I don't know. But (Y/N), my brother, and I; we're hunting for your Mom's killer. We can find answers, answers that can help us both. But you gotta let us go, Max. You gotta let your stepmother go.”

The boy thought for a moment. “No. What they did to me? I still have nightmares. I'm so scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for that next beating. I'm so sick of being scared all the time, I just want this to be over!”

“Max, it won’t. Don’t you get it?” You were incredulous. Had he not been listening at all? “The nightmares won’t end, dude. They still wake me up screaming. Killing your stepmom isn’t gonna fix anything. I know, dude. Trust me on this one. Please.”

“I’m sorry.” The tears returned to his eyes and a twisted smile crossed his features before you were flying through the air and into the closet. The doors slammed shut on you, and you saw a heavy piece of furniture covering the place where the two doors met.

You and Sam began banging on the doors. “Max, no! Goddamn you!”

To make matters worse, Sam started holding his head and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. When he came back-to, he shouted, “No, NO!” And the heavy furniture moved from holding back the closet doors.

You and Sam froze, staring at each other for a moment before pushing the doors open and sprinting up the stairs. You busted through the door to the bedroom you could hear Dean’s voice coming from.

“No, don't! Don't! Please. Please,” Sam begged him. You noticed the gun trained on Dean who stood in front of Ms. Miller. “Max. Max. We can help you. Alright.”

“Kid, I know it fucking sucks,” you continued. “But this, what you're doing, it's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything.”

Max was suddenly a mess. His shaking hands and sweating forehead became more apparent to you as his face contorted in agony. Suddenly, he relaxed. “You're right.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, but way too soon. The gun swung around to point at Max and he shot himself squarely between the eyes.

“No!” Sam cried, and you covered your mouth with your hand.

Ms. Miller began to cry looking at her stepson collapsed on the floor. You looked up at Dean and held his gaze before crossing the room to hug him. You felt his body relax for a moment before you pulled away from him. You moved to Ms. Miller.

“I’m so sorry,” you told her. You opened your arms to her and she collapsed into you. You held her while Sam and Dean called the police and paramedics.

You helped Ms. Miller down the stairs to her couch to answer questions for the police, and sat by holding her hand the whole way through. The woman seemed unable to focus her vision as she spoke. “Max attacked me. He threatened me with a gun.”

“And these three?” The officer gestured to you, Sam, and Dean with the end of his pen.

“They're… family friends. I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun.” She looked over at the boys and squeezed your hand.

“Where did Max get the gun?”

Ms. Miller began to cry and looked up at the ceiling. “I don't know. He showed up with it and—” The poor woman began to break down.

“It’s okay, Alice,” you told her, bringing her back into a hug.

“I've lost everyone,” she sobbed into your shoulder, and you smoothed a hand over the back of her hair.

The cop addressed you next. “We'll give you a call if we have any further questions.”

You nodded. You looked to the boys. Sam’s face was set in his puppy-dog stare, and Dean had a look on his face you couldn’t quite read. Dean jerked his head to gesture toward the car before leading Sam out of the home.

You gave Ms. Miller one final hug, and told her to call you if she needed anything. As her tears subsided, she thanked you. You left her alone in her house, and your heart broke for her. As broken as her family had been, she was truly all alone now. That wrecked you completely.

“If I'd just said something else; gotten through to him somehow…” you trailed off once you’d made your way to the car.

“Don’t do that,” Dean told you.

“Do what?”

“Torture yourself. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone.” You didn’t find comfort in that at all.

“When I think about how he looked at us, man, right before. I shoulda done something,” Sam added.

“Come on, man, you risked your life. I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there twenty years earlier,” Dean sassed.

The three of you moved to your respective sides of the Impala.

“Well, I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad,” Sam said.

Dean was astounded. “Well, I never thought I'd hear you say that.”

The younger brother laughed. “It could’ve gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we would've had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him.”

Dean looked back to the Miller’s house. “All things considered.”

You leaned against the car’s door and curled up on your seat. Your mind raced from the scene you’d just left. Ms. Miller reminded you so much of your mom. And now, she was alone. Then there was Max. If only you could’ve said something else. And your brother. You thought of him, too. Maybe he realized that even though your parents were dead, the memories didn’t go away. Maybe that was the reason he took his own life, not the fact that you’d killed your parents. Maybe if you would have spoken to him differently, he would still be here. You wouldn’t be all alone, just like Ms. Miller. Maybe if you’d—

“(Y/N), I’m sorry about your dad,” Sam broke you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.” You didn’t mean to come off rudely, but you knew your tone had been cold. You could see Dean looking at you in the rearview mirror out of the corner of your eye. You chose to ignore him, and kept looking out the window.

You and the boys arrived back at the motel soon after. Night had fallen, and the three of you decided you needed some sleep before hitting the road. Once you’d showered and changed into your pajamas which consisted of an oversized band t-shirt and underwear, you heard a knock on the door.

You opened it to reveal Dean, and surprise overtook you. “What’s up?”

Dean raked his eyes over your body briefly and realized you’d forgotten to put pants on. “Uh, nothing, I just— uh.”

You quirked a brow at him. “You just?”

“Sam told me what you told Max. Thought maybe you’d wanna talk about it.”

“Aw, Dean, how sweet. Are we gonna hug?” you threw a line at him he’d used on you and Sam multiple times.

He rolled his eyes and scratched the back of his neck. “Nevermind,” he muttered and began to walk away.

“Wait,” you said. He turned back to you and you let him into your motel room. You and Dean sat on the floor and leaned against your bed.

“So…” you began.

“So…” he echoed.

“What do you wanna know?” you opted for asking, not sure how to begin this conversation.

“What happened to you?”

You sighed. “My dad was just… way too hard on me. And Bubba, too. He just… if we weren’t doing something right, he’d give ‘physical punishments’ to help us correct our form. He said it was because he wanted to keep us safe. Like, when I was learning to shoot and I would miss, he’d hit my hands with the butt of whatever gun I was shooting with. Hard. He said I’d remember the feeling and it’d fix my aim. And I hate to say it, but he was right. I rarely miss a shot.” You paused, thinking of another example. “When he’d go to hit Stevie, though, I always got in the way. Which he’d then hit me for another reason. He said it was because he needed to teach my brother a lesson and I shouldn’t get in the way of the natural consequence. My brother was always bigger and stronger than me even though he was two years younger. He made us spar all the time. And if he saw either of us holding back, my dad would spar us. And he didn’t hold back at all.” You drew in a shaky breath. “I was always the smallest in the family. He made sure I stayed super thin when I was little so I could always squeeze into tight spaces. I’m pretty sure that had he not, I’d be a lot taller than I am. Maybe could pack on some more muscle, too.”

Dean just stared at you, unsure of what to say.

“And you wanna know the worst part?”

He nodded.

“I don’t even hate him for it. I wish I could. But he’s my dad, y’know? The good times were always really good. I know he cared about me and Bubba. I just… he didn’t know how to show it, is all.”

“(Y/N), I don’t know a damn thing about love, but that sure as hell ain’t it,” Dean responded.

“I don’t know, Dean, I really haven’t seen much better examples anywhere else in my life,” you laughed uncomfortably. “I mean, hunting isn’t exactly a profession you can have relationships in. And hookups just aren’t for me; they make me feel like garbage.”

“I get it,” he answered.

“No, way, dude. You’re king of hookup kingdom,” you sassed.

“I’m serious! I wasn’t always. I’ve always… loved girls, y’know, but I didn’t always know what to do with ‘em. And some of ‘em you can just tell are using you. Even if I’m doing the same thing to them, it doesn’t feel great.”

Your gaze softened. “Then why do you keep doing it to yourself?”

“It’s a great way to blow off some steam. Besides, it’s so fun, why the hell would I stop?”

“Good point,” you shrugged.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute.

“How the hell did we go from talking about my dad hitting me to your sex life?”

He laughed. “I have no idea. But, uh, I’m sorry all that happened to you.”

“Meh, I’ll get over it. Eventually,” you shrugged.

“I know you didn’t tell me the worst parts, though,” he said.

“How?”

“You get this look on your face when you’re talkin’ about something that really upsets you. Like your parents’ death. That’s the only time I’ve ever seen you hurt that bad,” Dean explained. “Anyway, if you ever do wanna talk about it...”

“I know,” you smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You and Dean talked for hours on the floor of your room. His shoes were abandoned somewhere, his button-up had been abandoned, and you were several rounds of Texas Hold-Em deep. You played with bullets instead of poker chips; it was all you had on hand.

You laughed at some stupid joke Dean had made as you called. A ten of hearts, seven of clubs, and nine of clubs laid before you and Dean on the ground.

He hummed. “Raise.”

You flipped up the top card. Ace of spades. ‘Fuck.’ But you wouldn’t let Dean win.

“Bet.”

“Raise.”

You flipped up the last card. Six of hearts. You fought the smile trying to work its way onto your face. “Bet.”

Dean eyed you, and you eyed him right back. You stared at each other intensely until he finally said, “Fold.”

“Yes!” You said triumphantly, falling back to the floor.

“Yeah, whatever, we’re not even playing for real money.”

“You’re just butthurt you got beat, Winchester,” you retorted. “Don’t be a baby.”

He made a face at you. “I’m not.”

“You are totally pouting right now, dude, just admit it.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Fine,” Dean conceded. “It’s just ‘cause I’m tired; that’s the only reason you beat me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Then let’s go to a casino together sometime. We could definitely use the cash. And you’re not half-bad.”

He smirked at you. “You’re on.”

You walked him to the door after having decided he needed to go to sleep since he was driving.

“Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You ignored the way his nickname was beginning to make your heart flip.

***

You and Dean had apparently not decided to go to bed early enough, and you both yawned as you packed up the car.

“Dean, I've been thinking,” Sam told his brother.

“Well that's never a good thing,” he yawned in response.

“I'm serious. I been thinking, this demon, whatever it is. Why would it kill Mom, and Jessica, and Max's mother, you know? What does it want?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, you think, maybe, it was after us? After Max and me?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe he was, he was after us for some reason.”

Dean slammed the trunk shut. “Sam. If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Okay? This is not your fault, it's not about you.” He headed back into the motel room, and you and Sam followed him.

“Then what is it about?”

“It's about that damn thing that did this to our family. The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all.”

“Actually there's uh... there's something else too.”

Dean turned back around. “Ah, jeez. What?”

“When Max left me and her in that closet, with that big cabinet against the door... I moved it.”

“Huh. You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for,” Dean remarked.

“No man, I moved it. Like, Max.”

“He’s not lying,” you affirmed.

Dean paused for a few moments. “Right.” He picked up a spoon from the nightstand. “Bend this.”

Sam deadpanned, “I can’t just turn it on and off, Dean.”

“Well, how'd you do it?”

“I don't know, I can't control it. I just— I saw you die and it just came out of me, like a, like a punch. You know like… a freak adrenaline thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Dean replied.

“Yeah, maybe. Aren't you worried, man? Aren't you worried I could turn into Max or something?” Sam was unconvinced.

The older brother shook his head. “Nope. No way. You know why? ‘Cause you got one advantage Max didn't have. Two, actually.”

“Dad? Because Dad's not here, Dean.”

“No. Me.” He smirked. “And her. As long as we’re around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

Sam smiled a little and his puppy dog eyes returned.

Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and began pushing you and Sam out the door. “Now then. I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go.”

“Where?”

“Vegas.”

Sam rolled his eyes and walked out the door to the car.

“What? Come on man. Craps tables. We'd clean up!” Dean tried.

You laughed. “Dean could use your help with Texas Hold ‘Em, too.”

“Can it, (Y/N).”

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

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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cowboylikelyric · 17 hours

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riding lessons (cowboy!harry)

Summary: Where a tense Harry gives riding lessons to some you would have never expected. When jealousy takes over, Harry reassures you of his love. Based on this ask.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: 18+, angst, smut, oral sex (female recieving),

A/N: i have been dying to do some cowboyrry so here you guys go! and if anyone is wondering, i am totally picturing harry with his current mullet cause duh. please let me know what you think! love you guys the most!

---

“Harry!” You squeal as Harry peppers kisses all over your face, his fingers tickling up your sides.

“Hmm, what?” He manages to get out between kisses, a smile painted on his face. You plant your hands on his chest and try to push him away.

Harry had woken up in an excellent mood this morning, full of smiles and love. He had clung to you since the moment you woke up, laying constant kisses on your lips and now all over your face.

He ran his hands up your bare stomach under his shirt that you were wearing, his kisses slowing just slightly.

“Baby,” You push at his chest, giggling.

Harry pulled away with a cheeky smile on his face, resting his forehead against yours. He looked into your eyes and there was that look he always gave you that made you blush.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, honey.” He went to take another kiss from you, which would have probably led to much more than a kiss, when his phone buzzed, pulling a groan from him.

He buried his face in your neck, mumbling, “Don’t wanna go.”

You thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his face back so you can look at him. “Lessons?” You ask, a frown appearing on your face. Normally Harry loved giving riding lessons.

Ever since you met Harry four years ago, he’s lived in the same place, doing the same thing. Harry grew up on his family’s ranch, and never left. Once he got old enough, his dad let him start running the horse riding lessons because that was exactly what Harry loved to do. He still hadn’t taught you, but that’s because you had never really asked him. It just wasn’t something that you felt the need to do, ride a horse that is.

You didn’t grow up here like Harry did. You grew up in a city about two hours from the ranch. You and Harry met on a random Sunday at a grocery store when he was visiting family. The moment you met him you knew you had to see him again. And of course you did, you were persistent.

Now, four years later, he was your best friend as well as your husband. You both live on the ranch in a sweet little farmhouse that he and his dad built together.

But the point was, Harry loved giving riding lessons on the ranch, so you couldn’t quite figure out why he sounded so against it today.

Harry nodded and placed a kiss on your nose before climbing off your bed. He had dressed himself earlier, so all he had to do was tug on his boots. He grabbed his cowboy hat from the side table, placed it on his head, and came over to your side of the bed to lean over you.

“I’ll be home for lunch, honey,” he says before giving you one last kiss, then grabbing his phone to check the message he got earlier.

As soon as his eyes hit his phone his body tenses, but he moves past it as if nothing happened, sticking his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

“I love you,” You call out as he starts to make his way out of the bedroom.

He looks back over his shoulder and puts on a fake smile, nothing like the one he wore earlier, saying, “Love you more,” before leaving the room.

What the hell was up with him?

You tried not to think too much about it, getting a shower and getting ready before making your way to the main farm house on the ranch where Harry’s parents lived.

As soon as you stepped in, you could smell the delicious breakfast that you knew Ronnie, Harry’s mother and your mother in law, prepared.

You turned the corner to the kitchen and saw the spread of breakfast foods across the kitchen island. Pancakes with blueberries and ones with chocolate chips, fried potatoes, bacon, and everything else you could imagine. Your favorite was her hand squeezed orange juice that she made you a new jug of each week.

“Ronnie, you really do know the way to my heart,” you say and watch as she turns around, smile bright just like Harry’s.

She held out a full plate in your direction, “Good morning, sweet pea.”

“Morning,” You took the play from her and sat at the island, digging in. And then of course you got to thinking about Harry’s strange mood this morning and it had your stomach turning all over again. So, you asked your mother in law, “Do you know who Harry’s giving lessons to today?”

She hummed, shaking her head, “M’not sure. Why’re you asking?” She sets a full plate in the microwave, for Chris, Harry’s father, before coming to sit and eat her own breakfast with you.

You shrug, “He just didn’t seem too excited to get out there today is all.”

Ronnie got a confused pout on her face. “Well, if anyone could figure it out, it’d be you, Y/n.”

You nod and stab at the pancake on your plate, hoping it was nothing major.

Later on, as the clock struck twelve, you began to wonder where Harry was as lunch sat on the counter. So you took a trip out to the training ring. Sometimes Harry got so enthralled with the horses that he wouldn’t realize the time had passed. Other times, he and Chris would take their horses down the trails for an afternoon stroll. Either way, this wasn’t unusual for Harry.

The ring wasn’t too far from their house, about a five minute walk. Chris and Ronnie had gifted you both a four wheeler last Christmas to travel the ranch with, but you enjoyed taking in the scenery.

As you approached the arena, you watched as Harry rode his horse, Kalli, beside someone else who you could tell was riding, Milo. Milo was patient, so he was often used for lessons.

You stepped a touch closer, trying to see who the student was. It was definitely a woman, but her face was turned away from your view so you couldn’t tell.

You couldn’t see how Harry was feeling as Kalli trotted along. The both of them rounded the ring and you finally caught sight of her face. Ada.

After being with Harry for four years, being married for almost one, nothing really sparked jealousy within you anymore. But as you caught sight of his ex riding beside him, your stomach slightly dropped.

Ada lived in the same town as you guys, so it was almost guaranteed to come across her a few times in a year. You’d never really acknowledge her, but the two of you had no bad blood. Harry never talked extremely horrible about her, only that their relationship had always been quite… miserable.

So why was he giving her lessons? And why hadn’t Harry told you?

She laughed beside him and he cracked a slight smile before they started making their way toward the stalls, which were in your direction. You were quick to move out of sight, not wanting to make a big deal of this. So, you headed back to the house and tried to shake the enormous feelings that were piling in your gut.

Harry had never taught you how to ride, but now he had taught Ada. Why did that bother you so much? Harry didn’t even like Ada, afterall, he married you. But did he wish you had more enthusiasm when it came to riding? You loved the horses like they were your own children, you just never wanted to ride them, that was Harry’s thing.

Your lip quivered, but you shook your head, stepping back into your home, heading straight for the kitchen. You took a deep breath as you sat at the table and painted on a smile, beginning to eat your lunch.

The front door clicked as it shut, his voice ringing through the house as he called, “Honey?”

“Lunch is ready!” You controlled the shake in your voice as you shouted.

Harry walked through the doorway, sweat soaking through the collar of his t-shirt. He smiled at you as he crossed the kitchen. He approached you from behind your chair, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

He sat across from you where his food sat, removing his hat from his head, sitting it on the table. You cleared your throat, “How were the lessons?”

You stared down at your plate as he answered. “Yeah, they were fine. Got to see Willow again. She gets better everytime I see her.”

Willow was the daughter of a friend of his, he’d been giving her lessons since she was five. But you weren’t really hoping to hear about Willow.

You hummed, “Anyone new?”

Harry forked some food into his mouth. “One new student today.”

“Sounds exciting.” You say, not meeting his gaze.

“Is everything okay?” He asks. Yeah, everythings great, just the fact that your new student is your ex.

You look up, nodding, “Yup, think I’m just tired.”

He pouted slightly, taking your plate. “Well, go up and take a nap, honey. I’ll clean all this up. Gotta head out to tidy up the stalls then I’ll come back right back to you.”

Harry came over to place a kiss on your lips, whispering, “I love you,” before staring over to the sink.

You padded up the stairs, going along with the whole nap idea. Except you could nap. All you could do was roll around the bed and shut your eyes, picturing them riding together.

You groaned and stared up at the ceiling. For once in your life, you had all the motivation in the world to go out to the stalls and saddle one of the horses. That was never something you wanted to do before. You had no idea why. Maybe you were scared or maybe you were just self aware. But now you wanted to, or you thought so.

You slide off the bed and hop on one of four wheelers, zipping to the stalls where you hoped Harry would be.

“Baby?!” You call out as you park the wheeler, stepping to the stalls.

“Milo’s!” He yells back and you make your way there. When you get there, Harry’s brushing Milo with a smile on his face. “Hey, honey. That nap was fast.”

“Yeah, I’m rested and refreshed. Feeling better than ever.” Not. “Hey, uh,” Harry looks up from Milo, “Can I ask you something?”

He nods, his brows furrowing, “Course you can, Y/n, you know that.”

You clear your throat, nodding to yourself. “Great, good, well,” You shake out your hands that feel like they’re getting sweatier by the second, “I was, uh, wondering if you’d teach me how to… how to ride.”

Harry’s face pulls back, surprise written all over it. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You nod, taking the brush from his hands and placing it in the basket. “I want you to give me lessons.”

The furrowing of his brows returns yet again and your heart drops: He shakes his head in confusion. “Why?”

You frown and scoff. “Do I need a reason?”

“No, it’s just you’ve never asked me before-“

“Well, I am now,” You walk closer to him, whispering, “I want to learn how to fucking ride.”

Hurt spreads across his face as you spit the words. “Y/n, are you okay? What’s up w-“

Flashes of what you had seen earlier seep into your mind. Ada laughing beside Harry, him smiling, him not telling you.

Anger rushes over you as you bring your hands to his chest, pushing him back a few steps, yelling, “Just teach me how to ride, god dammit!”

Then, you’re stuck in place and so is Harry. You let out heavy breaths, your shoulders tight as your stomach turns. Silence fills the air as you both stand in front of each other. What had you just done?

Finally, the emotions that you’d buried deep down earlier had erupted and you look like an asshole. But you still felt hurt. But he was the only thing that ever healed the hurt inside of you. So, right in front of Harry, you broke down. A sob rushed out of your throat, tears falling as you stepped over to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest.

Harry wraps his arms around you and slowly rubs his hand up and down your back trying to soothe you. “It’s okay, honey, you’re okay.” He laid kisses on top of your head as you cried out into his chest. That was something that you loved about Harry. He didn’t need to know what was wrong, only that if something was wrong, he wanted to fix it.

You cried out every single tear you could until his shirt was soaked and your face was drenched. He pulled your face away from his chest to get a good look at you. He stared into your eyes, hand cupping your cheek, asking, “What’s hurting you, honey?”

You bit your lip staring at him, debating whether or not you wanted to tell him. Of course, you wanted to tell him, but you didn’t know if it would make you sound like a crazy jealous wife. Because maybe you were in the wrong. What if this was just all in your own head? Wouldn’t you look stupid.

You took a deep breath, “I know you’re giving Ada lessons.”

Harry’s face morphed into an expression that you couldn’t read. His mouth dropped open a touch and you thought that maybe it was guilt that you saw.

“Y/n,” He shook his head, “I’m so sorry.” He was sorry? Did that mean he had done something? “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“No, it’s okay,” You try to fan your face to dry the tears on your cheeks. “I’m sorry I acted this way, it was stupid-”

Harry grabbed your face again, “Don’t you ever say that. It wasn’t stupid. I’m stupid. I’m so fucking stupid because I actually believed her.” Now, you were confused.

“What?” You asked. What the hell was going on right now?

Harry sighed and grabbed your hands. “I didn’t wanna teach her, but she came to me with this sob story,” Shaking his head, a look of disgust washed over his face. “Told me her dad said she needed lessons cause of she didn’t learn how to do something around their farm soon, he’d kick her out.”

A wave of relief crashed over you. You had no idea she still lived with her dad and you were assuming Harry didn’t either. Ada’s dad also had a farm, but it wasn’t nearly as big as the Style’s ranch.

Your shoulders dropped. “Oh.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, accept he didn’t say that. She just made up the whole goddamn story as a way to get to me. I mean,” He motions behind him, “I’m sure you saw her out there. She knows how to ride a fucking horse. I feel so stupid.” He grabbed your face again. “You know she means nothing to me. Nothing else in the goddamn world means a thing to me if I don’t have you. You know that right?”

“Of course, I do.” You pressed your forehead to his, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “But why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head, “Honey I wish I had a reason, but I don’t. God, I’m so fucking stupid.” He gave you a quick kiss. “Forgive me, baby.”

You nod. “You’re forgiven,” You wrap your arms around his neck, “But you’re still gonna have to make it up to me.”

Harry pulled his face back, a mischievous smirk planted on his face. “Right here?” He asked, gripping your hips and backing you up and out of Milo’s stall, before shutting the stall door.

“Harry…” You whispered. The dimples grew on his cheeks which you knew meant he was up to no good. “What are you doing?” You asked as he began trailing his lips down your neck.

“Shh, trying to make it up to my wife.” He slurred against your neck, as if he was drunk off of the feeling. You giggle at his tone but push him off.

He groans at you but you just roll your eyes. “Down boy, you’ll get what you want. But I don’t really feel like giving the horses a show.” You grab his hand and pull him from the stalls quickly, scanning the ranch for a secret hideaway.

Harry tugs you to the right, saying, “The barn.”

You shake your head quickly. “Your dad!” You whisper shout. What was he thinking?

“Is done for the day.” He finishes, dragging you over to the big red building. As soon as you get in, He pushes you up against the wall, his lips immediately pressed to yours and his hands feeling all over your sundress. His hands slip beneath the material, going straight for your ass, squeezing it.

His tongue slips across your lips, making its way into your mouth as your hands make their way up to his hair at his neck. Your fingers tangle in the curls as you moan against his mouth. You were feeling the effects of his actions already as your arousal began to soak your panties. He pulls away from the kiss, breathless and a lust drunk smile on his face. He pulls his cowboy hat from his head, setting it on yours.

“Hold this for me?” Harry starts to lower himself onto his knees. “Wanna have a taste of my sweet, sweet Honey.”

He lifts your dress up to your waist, looking for you to hold it. You do, grabbing the hem of your dress as a breeze blows over your legs. Harry kisses the inside of your thighs, trailing up to the very apex. You let out a small gasp, your stomach caving in as he pressed his lips over top of the center of your panties.

“Oh, baby,” He placed a long lick along your covered center, “So worked up.” He hooked his fingers into your underwear, sliding them down your legs. He tucked them in the back pocket of his jeans before lifting one of your legs and placing it on shoulder. He locked his eyes on yours as he latched his mouth onto your cunt.

“Oh my god,” You sigh as he slid a hand back to hold your ass, pushing your pussy further in his face. Harry wrapped his tongue around your clit, sucking at it, sending zaps of pleasure through your body. He groans against you, his tongue moving to fuck into you. Your head starts to lull back at the loads of satisfaction you’re feeling but he’s quick to reach up and pinch your thigh, getting your attention.

“Eyes on me,” He speaks sternly against you. You nod and watch as he drowns himself in your arousal, exploring every inch of your pussy. “Ya wear dresses like this more often and I’ll be on my knees forever.”

It was one of the simple sun dresses that you had in your closet. You had no idea that it drove him this crazy, but you made a mental note.

You started grinding your hips against his face feeling the tingles climb up your spine. Harry nodded and kept himself still, letting you decide what felt good. “That’s it, honey, take what you want.” So, you did. Your hands dropped the bottom of the dress that you had been holding, sticking your hands in his hair and pushing his face against you.

“Harry,” Your voice grabbing onto a high pitch noise as your high started to creep up on you. Your head dropped forward as you watched him, his hat that sat on your head dipped forward over your face.

“Go ‘head, honey, come for me.” He his nose rubbed at your clit while his tongue continued fucking into you, making you moan out and pull his curls.

And all of a sudden, you were being pushed over the cliff and your high washed over you. Your legs shook as he lapped up every drop of your arousal like a puppy. You hoped that you weren’t too loud, but you couldn’t help yourself as he began to suck at your clit again.

You yelped and yanked at his hair, shaking your hair, “Too sensitive.”

Harry chuckled as he removed your leg from his shoulder, rising off his knees. He placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Feel good, baby?”

You hummed and nodded. “Just like jelly.”

“Ready for some more?” He picked you up from your ass and wrapped your legs around his waist, jogging you both to the house, leaving you squealing.

“Harry!”

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cailins-posts · 3 days

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Quinn Hughes and the Love of His Life

Quinn hughes x reader

The Vancouver Canucks locker room was always a hub of activity. Players joked, teased, and bonded as they prepared for practice. Among them was Quinn Hughes, the team's star defenseman. But today, as usual, Quinn's attention wasn't entirely on the game. His thoughts often wandered to his girlfriend, Y/N, who had captured his heart in a way nothing else ever had.

Quinn's teammates noticed this shift in his demeanor. Brock Boeser, his best friend and constant tormentor, was the first to call him out. "Hey, Hughesy, you daydreaming about Y/N again?" Brock teased, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Quinn blushed, shaking his head but unable to hide his smile. "Shut up, Boes," he mumbled, his ears turning red.

Elias Pettersson joined in, leaning against his locker. "Yeah, Quinn, you're turning into a real softie. We used to think you were tough."

The locker room erupted in laughter, and Quinn couldn't help but chuckle too. His teammates' teasing was all in good fun, and he knew they were happy for him. Y/N had brought a new light into his life, and everyone could see it.

Quinn's thoughts drifted back to the first time he met Y/N. It was at a charity event for the Canucks, and she was there as a volunteer. Her smile caught his attention from across the room, and he spent the entire evening trying to muster the courage to talk to her. When he finally did, they hit it off immediately. Her warmth, intelligence, and kindness were magnetic, and he was hooked.

Since then, they'd been inseparable. Y/N often attended games, cheering him on from the stands. She quickly became a favorite among his teammates, not just because of how she supported Quinn, but because of her genuine nature and the way she fit seamlessly into their hockey family.

One day, after a grueling practice, Quinn decided to bring Y/N to the rink. He wanted her to see him in his element and meet the team officially. As they walked in hand in hand, the teasing began almost immediately.

"Look, it's Hughesy's better half!" Brock called out, prompting a round of applause and whistles from the team.

Y/N laughed, not minding the attention. She squeezed Quinn's hand reassuringly and whispered, "They seem like a great group."

"They are," Quinn replied, his heart swelling with pride. "And they love to give me a hard time."

Y/N grinned, loving how Quinn's teammates interacted with him. It was clear they were a close-knit group, more like family than just teammates. She watched as they ribbed Quinn about his newfound softness, and she found it endearing. To her, it showed just how much Quinn cared and how deeply he could love.

One evening, after a particularly tough loss, Quinn was feeling down. Y/N knew exactly how to lift his spirits. She prepared his favorite meal, set up a movie marathon of his favorite comedies, and just held him. She knew he needed the comfort and the distraction.

"Thank you, Y/N," Quinn said softly, his head resting on her lap. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She stroked his hair, her touch soothing. "I'm always here for you, Quinn. Through the wins and the losses."

Their relationship wasn't without its challenges. Being a professional athlete meant Quinn was often away for games and road trips. It wasn't easy, but they made it work. They cherished every moment they had together, and their love grew stronger with each passing day.

One night, after a particularly long road trip, Quinn returned home exhausted. As soon as he walked through the door, Y/N was there, wrapping her arms around him. He melted into her embrace, feeling all the stress and fatigue of the trip slip away.

"Welcome home," she whispered, kissing his cheek.

"It's so good to be home," he replied, holding her close. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she said, pulling back to look into his eyes. "You look tired. Let's get you to bed."

Quinn didn't argue. He let Y/N lead him to their bedroom, where she had already set out fresh pajamas and his favorite pillow. He couldn't help but smile at how thoughtful she was.

As they settled into bed, Quinn wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close. "You know, the guys give me a hard time about how much I love you."

Y/N giggled. "I think it's cute. It shows how much you care."

"I do care," Quinn said, his voice serious. "I love you more than anything, Y/N. You make everything better."

She kissed him softly, her heart swelling with love. "And I love you, Quinn. Always."

Their relationship continued to flourish, despite the ups and downs of Quinn's demanding career. They faced each challenge together, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. The teasing from his teammates never let up, but Quinn didn't mind. He wore their jabs as a badge of honor, proud of the love he and Y/N shared.

One afternoon, after practice, Quinn was sitting in the locker room when Brock approached him, a smirk on his face. "Hey, Hughesy, we're all heading out for dinner. You in, or are you gonna be all lovesick and head home to Y/N?"

Quinn laughed, shaking his head. "I'm in. But I'm bringing Y/N with me."

Brock rolled his eyes playfully. "Of course you are. Just don't get all mushy on us, okay?"

"No promises," Quinn shot back, grinning.

At the restaurant, Y/N fit right in with the team, laughing at their jokes and sharing stories. The guys loved having her around, and Quinn couldn't have been happier. As the evening went on, he found himself watching her, amazed by how perfectly she had integrated into his life.

"Hey, Hughesy," Brock called out from across the table. "You know we're just giving you a hard time because we're happy for you, right?"

Quinn nodded, his heart full. "I know, Boes. And I appreciate it."

After dinner, as they walked back to their apartment, Quinn pulled Y/N close, kissing the top of her head. "Thanks for being amazing tonight. The guys really like you."

"They're great," Y/N replied, smiling up at him. "And I'm really happy to be a part of your life, Quinn."

"You are my life," he said softly, stopping to look into her eyes. "I love you, Y/N. More than words can say."

Tears filled her eyes, and she kissed him deeply, pouring all her love into that kiss. "I love you too, Quinn. So much."

As they continued their walk home, hand in hand, they knew that whatever challenges came their way, they would face them together. Their love was strong, and with each other's support, they could overcome anything. Quinn was a different man with Y/N in his life—softer, happier, and more complete. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

#hockey #nhl #nhl x reader #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes #connor x reader #fanfic #connor bedard x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes blurb #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 days

Text

All of Me

Part 6

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: A fun day at the beach and even more once you get home.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, teasing, orgasm delay/denial, getting aroused in public, femdom kind of?, mutual masturbation, use of ‘good boy’, use of ‘yes ma’am’, idk probably more. Lmk if I missed anything

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Do you guys know each other?” Bradley asks, nodding to Jake as the teams finish divvying up.

“Kind of. We’ve met in passing on base,” you lie.

“He’s single, good looking-What? I have eyes,” Bradley scoffs when you give him a look. “He met Drew at a boys' night and was really good with him. He’s a little young for you, Grandma, but that’s never stopped you before.”

“Oh, whatever,” you laugh, but consider his words. One of the biggest reasons you were hesitant to date was Drew and he’s already fond of Jake.

You don’t dwell on it as the game begins.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The Southern California sun is hot and your coverup is stripped off 15 minutes into the game.

Even though his gaze is hidden by his aviators, you can feel Jake’s eyes raking over your exposed skin and the same modest top you had on earlier. He turns his head away when fix your strap with a snap.

“I’ve got Roo!” Drew calls before the final play. “Jake, cover my mom. She’s pretty good for a girl.”

He giggles when you narrow your eyes at him.

Bradley gives you a nod before you take off running when he yells hike.

Jake’s hot on your heels until you take a sharp left as Bradley throws the ball.

“Shit,” is all you from behind you as catch it and take off.

You turn around right before the end zone to face him. “That’s a tie,” you grin as you step back over the line.

Jake just gives you a smile as he bends at the waist to catch his breath.

“I told you she’s good,” Drew pants as catches up and slaps Jake on the back. “No worries.”

“Thanks, bud,” Jake laughs as he straightens and looks at you when he says, “Yeah, she is good.”

“Roo said to let you know the food is ready and that I should hurry back or he’ll drink the only grape soda!” Drew says hurriedly, already running back towards Penny’s where the rest of the group is already inside.

Bradley doesn’t even like grape soda. The wannabe matchmaker did this on purpose.

“I think I’m gonna take a dip in the water first,” Jake says with a sigh .

“But it’s freezing,” you say, turning to look at him. His eyes are on your ass where your shorts have ridden up from your run.

“Exactly,” he replies with a grimace looking down at his obvious erection. “I feel like a teenager again. I was okay until you took your shirt off and started running around.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, not sorry at all.

“No you’re not,” he laughs.

“No, I’m not,” you bite your lip as you look him over, wanting nothing more to jump his bones.

“Fuck, you’re just making it worse,” he groans, looking over your shoulder at the house before giving you a quick kiss. “I’ll meet you inside.”

You make your way back, laughing when you hear him curse at the frigid water.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Another round of football, swimming, and s’mores by the fire has the time passing quickly.

“Can I go watch a movie with Elsie?” Drew asks, stifling a yawn after finishing his second s’more.

“Sure, as long as Pen says it’s okay,” you tell him, brushing his hair off his forehead.

He looks so much like Andy that it hurts.

“She did, I asked her first,” he says, eyes searching for someone. “Jake, do you wanna come with me? Bob’s in there too.”

“Oh bud, he-“ you start but Jake’s already standing.

“Sure,” he gives you a wink as follows Drew inside.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You plan to check on Jake but get distracted talking to Nat and Callie.

“She’s not the only one who fell asleep,” Bob smiles at you when he brings a sleeping Elsie outside 45 minutes later.

“That doesn’t surprise me with all the fresh air he got today,” you reply, stifling a yawn of your own. “Have a good night.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“I’m gonna head out, guess Drew’s already asleep,” you find Bradley before heading in the house.

“Me too. I put his bag in your car already,” he replies, hugging you.

“Thanks again Roo,” you say, squeezing him before pulling back. “For everything.”

“Any time,” he gives you a smile as he heads to the Bronco.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

You head inside quietly after saying goodbye to everyone else.

The sight you walk in on has you stopping in your tracks.

They’re both asleep; Drew against Jake’s shoulder and Jake’s head resting on his.

You quietly pull your phone from your pocket and capture the moment but the shutter sound of your camera has Jake’s eyes blinking open.

You can feel a crack forming in the solid fortress constructed around your heart when he smiles down at Drew’s sweet, sleeping face.

You are fucked.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Drew doesn’t rouse as Jake carries him to your car nor when he gets him buckled in.

“Thanks,” you murmur as he closes the door softly. “He’s getting too big for me to carry.”

“No problem,” his eyes flick to your lips like he wants to kiss you, but he hesitates, looking to the backseat.

“Let me walk you to your truck,” you giggle, taking his hand; he’s parked next to you.

You pull him around the tailgate and press him up against the rear driver’s doors; glancing to make sure you and Jake’s hidden from Drew’s line of sight. Then you kiss him.

A low rumble leaves his throat at the touch of your lips. It gets hot and heavy fast; he can’t think to do more than anchor himself to your hips in a tight grip as one of your hands pushes into his hair, the other sliding down his chest to palm him over the thin fabric of his swim trunks.

You swallow his needy groans as you move your hand slowly up and down, going faster the more desperate he sounds.

“Reese,” he gasps, pulling from your lips. “Slow-ah, I’m getting close.”

“Not until I say so,” you remind him, your hand keeping the unrelenting pace.

A strangled noise leaves him and his fingers grip your hips even tighter as his head falls back against his truck window at your words.

“I-I’m not gonna be able to stop if you keep going like that,” he rasps.

You keep going, reveling at the tortured look on his face before leaning in to whisper, “You can cu-“

“Mom?” The sound of Drew opening his door has you jumping apart. “Where are you?”

“I’m coming,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just saying goodnight to Jake.”

“Okay,” you can hear him yawn. “Night Jake.”

“Night bud.”

You let out the breath you’re holding when the door clicks shut.

“Goodnight Jake,” you whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping away. “Text me when you get home.”

“I will,” he nods, giving you a smile through the pain.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Getting a sleepy Drew into the house is a process, but after a few tears and a trip to the bathroom, he’s down for the night.

Jake’s texted you by the time you crawl into bed.

Jake: I made it home.

Reese: Us too.

Jake: Drew fall back asleep?

Reese: Yeah. I made him go to the bathroom and brush his teeth. He wasn’t too happy with me 😂 I’m not sure if he was even fully awake.

Jake: God, he’s cute. Fell asleep halfway through telling me about last night's boys' night.

Reese: What’d they get up to?

Jake: …you know I can’t tell you that. I already betrayed their trust by telling you about the Padres game.

Reese: 🙄

Reese: I was gonna FaceTime you while I masturbate but now I don’t know.

Jake: Fuck.

Jake: Fuckkkkkkk.

Jake: Still can’t do it. Sorry.

You laugh as you open your bedside drawer to find your vibrator before pressing the FaceTime button.

“Hey,” his flushed face greets you almost immediately.

“Hi,” you smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m miserable,” he admits and his breath hitches when your hand holding the toy comes into view. “I’ve been hard since you left.”

“Poor thing,” you coo as you set your phone up on the nightstand so he can see more of you. “I guess you can touch yourself while you watch. But I want to see you.”

He releases the breath he was holding as he scrambles to set up his phone too.

As he does that, you slip the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing off, leaving you naked.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he pushes down the sheet, fisting himself with a grunt. His cock is an angry red and already dripping precum.

“So are you.” You turn on the vibrator and trail it over your nipples, gasping at the echoing sensation it causes between your legs. “Go slow,” you warn him softly. “I haven’t decided if you can cum yet.”

His eyes fall close as his body shudders but he obeys and slows his strokes.

As much as you want to drag this out, your arousal is already coating your thighs as you bring the toy down your body and you press it straight to your clit with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he rasps as he watches with rapt attention.

“Fuck,” you agree as you turn up the speed, already feeling the tells of an orgasm approaching. “I’m already close. You’ve had me worked up all day.”

“Really?” He asks, surprised. “Never would’ve guessed. You’re so composed.”

“I’m g-good at hiding it,” you explain, eyes falling close and gasping as welcome your first orgasm.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Jake’s eyes are shut tight when you’re able to open yours. He’s breathing heavily and has a tight grip on the base of his cock as he fights his own release.

“Good boy,” you whisper, smiling at the way he jerks. “Watch me again and I’ll you cum with me after this one.”

He groans as if he’s in pain but his eyes flicker open.

Just a hair-trigger away from spilling, he doesn’t release the tight grip on himself; a punched out sound leaves him as he watches you gasp and writhe through another.

“Okay, okay,” you pant as you come down. “I want you to cum with me this time.”

“Yes ma’am,” he breathes, hesitantly releasing himself with an already fucked-out expression.

“Oh, I like that,” you moan, clenching at his words as you tease the vibe over your swollen clit again.

“I’ll remember that,” he says breathlessly. “God, you’re perfect.”

You just smile.

“Reese, baby, I-I’m close,” he rasps, fully fucking his fist now. “I’m gonna-“

“Cum for me,” you rush out as you toe the edge. “Now.”

“Fuck! Reese,” he groans, hips jerking as rope after rope of cum coats his fist.

You’re unable to suppress the cry that leaves you when fall over the edge too.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Wow,” Jake chuckles.

“Yeah,” you smile as you lift your pleasure-heavy lids. “Wow.”

You prop your head on your fist, sleepy as you watch him wipe his hand and chest with tissues, wishing you were there to instead lick it up.

You talk for a few minutes and make a plan to have lunch in your office come Monday-to help his iatrophobia.

That’s what you tell yourself at least.

“Night Reese,” he murmurs, smiling at your slow blinks. “Sweet dreams.”

“Night,” you say whisper as sleep pulls you under.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: 🥹 me while writing Drew and Jake snuggling. Reese can deny it all she wants but she’s falling for him. Also, Jake reacting to be called a good boy? 🥵

What did you guys think?

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#jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin x you #sub jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun smut #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #natasha trace #natasha phoenix trace

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canonfeminine · 21 hours

Text

　　BREAKING THE WEDDING NORMS

💍 ₊˚⊹♫ … Husband! Leo Valdez x Wife! reader

in which: Leo has always found a way to break the norms. And finally, at the right time.

authors note: this is based of this!! I said I would do it, so I am. Credits to my sister @sunnitheapollokid because it was her idea. I don't have much to say, so I hope you enjoy this <33.

warnings:

You were nervous.

Today was the day you were getting married to your fiancé ,lover and literally soulmate, Leo Valdez. You'd been planning the day since you two first started dating, the dress you wanted, the cake, the venue—everything you could think of was ready. Everything was going well, perfect, almost. There's nothing that could go wrong.

Expect for you randomly got cold feet and freaked out. You didn't know why you were so anxious, you'd been waiting for this day from the start, and yet you couldn't leave the room you were in. The ceremony was in a few minutes.

"Calm down, calm down, just calm down-" You paced around the room, your heels clicking onto the ground. You could barely walk in them, so you didn't know how all the sudden your legs could.

"You can totally do this. It's not going to be the end of the world. You've been planning for this. Just chill out, (name)!" Clearly, telling yourself to calm down wasn't helping.

You wished that your bridesmaids hadn't left out. You knew they had to, something about the order of when people were supposed to come out before the bride—but you couldn't call them back in. It was too late to do so. The time you had was starting to slowly and slowly get more and more small.

You finally sat down in a nearby chair,already ready to give up. What were you going to do?-

"Mi vida?" Leo's voice came from outside of the door. "you doing okay in there?"

"Huh? Uhm! yeah, sorta?" You question if you should open the door. "did the ceremony already start?"

"No,no. You still have like.. five, maybe six minutes?" Even he sounded unsure. "Can you open the door?"

"For what?" You let out a slight laugh.

"... Do you really need an answer to that question?" You rolled your eyes.

"Your not supposed to see me, though. It ruins the surprise and all that."

"Y'know, I could just take the screws out of the door. Then you wouldn't have to-" "Okay! nope, please don't do that." You got up and opened the door just enough that Leo could see you.

Seeing him made that nervous feeling go away. He looked a little silly with a suit on (and a rose behind his ear,) but even you could admit he looked fly. A goofy, Leo type of fly.

He looked you up and down multiple times. "You were going to make me wait to see all that? Mi amor, I think the fact you even thought-" he paused, looking up at your face. "Are you sure you're okay? you look like you're about to cry." The smirk on his face fell into a concerned look.

You blinked and slightly wiped your eyes. "Yeah, i'm fine. Just,uhm, a little nervous." You let out an uncomfortable laugh.

Leo slipped his hand into yours. "About what? you know you can tell me."

"I-I mean, t's nothing specifically. I'm just.. I don't know, Leo."

"Okay, well that's okay. You don't need to exactly tell me, then." He let out a laugh under his breath. "You're going to do great. We're going to do great. Nothing had blown up yet, and we finally got here. My love, I promise you have nothing to worry about. It's our day, and if something goes wrong, we can deal with it together."

You smiled. "You promise?"

He let go of your hand and held out his little finger. "Pinkie promise." Leo held that everlasting Mischievous, but adorable smirk on his face. You interlocked your pinkie with his.

"You think your ready?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I think so." You leaned down and gave him a kiss.

"Also, why are you wearing heels? I feel short."

"Which, you are?" You laughed.

"Girl, not too much. " He rolled his eyes sassly than laughed. "Alright. Now I gotta go. I have a very pretty girl to marry."

#𓂃 ✴: zuri’s fics!#LORD why did this take me so long to write about #probs because I know nothing about weddings #(or.. aleast not THAT much)#percy jackon and the olympians #leo valdez #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez pjo #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus

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bwabys-scenarios · 20 hours

Text

A familiar werewolf

Part 1

Werewolf!Kurapika x Witch!Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: This is supposed to be an AO3 exclusive, but I decided to post the first part here in case y’all like it. I WILL ONLY CONTINUE TO POST THIS SERIES HERE IF THIS PART DOES WELL! If you want me to continue posting this on tumblr, COMMENT, LIKE, REBLOG!

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

It was finally spring, a time where flowers bloomed and the snow melted away to reveal all kinds of herbs and plants for the little witch (Name) to gather.

Today she was doing just that, gathering herbs to begin making more potions. Through the winter, her stock of salves and potions had grown smaller and smaller, until she only had a few left.

(Name) had customers that would be coming by any day now to buy her goods, so she was determined to go out and hunt for all the ingredients she would need.

She was a good witch, focusing on healing salves and helping the villagers nearby. It was partially out of the goodness of her heart, and partly because she wanted to keep a good relationship with the townspeople so they didn’t grab their pitchforks and torches to chase her out of town with.

So (Name) grabbed her hat, wearing a thick pair of boots to protect her feet from the thorny vegetation. She was always careful when visiting the forest. After all, there were rumors that many magical beasts made it their home.

Along the path, she spotted small clusters of mint, frowning. “Mint is so invasive, I thought I told the villagers not to plant it in the ground…”

(Name) did her best to dig up and pick what she could, then moved on along the path. Mushrooms, herbs, and pretty rocks all found a new home in her basket. After searching for a while, she wiped the sweat from her brow. ‘Hmm… I should still have some time to go by the lake before I go home… I wonder if anything is growing near the water's edge..?’

(Name) stepped on a branch as she neared the lake, ready to search for aquatic plant life and maybe even find a good spot to go fishing!

But before she could get too close, (Name) heard a loud howl that made her freeze in her tracks. When she turned, she spotted it.

There was a large, golden wolf near the water’s edge, its ears pinned back and snarling. From the water dripping from its furry chin, the witch assumed it had just been drinking from the lake before she interrupted it by making noise.

She was quick to hold up her hands in a sign of surrender, talking in an even voice. “Easy, boy, I’ll go,”

Backing up slowly, (Name) made sure not to meet the wolf’s eyes, though she did notice they were a sparkling shade of scarlet she had never seen before.

The beast huffed, watching her for a moment longer before turning back to drink. Once it did, she broke out in a sprint, her basket held firmly against her chest. (Name) knew the forest wasn’t exactly safe, but she had never encountered a wild animal besides some chipmunks and bunnies.

‘I’ve never seen a wolf with that coloration before…’ (Name) thought, putting away her foraged goods once she arrived home. ‘Maybe it’s an albino or something? But wouldn’t it’s fur be more white then?’

Despite being a little afraid, (Name) couldn’t get her mind off of the wolf she had seen before. It was easily the top predator in the forest, yet it only gave her a warning growl before minding its business again. Was that normal wolf behavior? She had no idea.

‘I’m thinking too much…’ (Name) thought, changing into her pajamas. ‘I need to sleep, or I’ll be late to the coven meeting tomorrow…’

Turning over, (Name) wondered what exactly she would even speak about during the meeting. She wasn’t exactly the most confident witch, often being spoken over or ignored due to her shy nature. No one would think she was the very first apprentice Biscuit Krueger, the head of the very coven (Name) was a part of.

‘I may have been her first apprentice, but I’m definitely not her best. Gon and Killua have me beat for sure…’ she thought, rolling over onto her side to stare out of the window.

Through the gaps in the curtains, she could see the moon shining up above, big and full. It’s light bathed her in a soft glow, and made her feel both rejuvenated and relaxed.

‘It’ll be okay… after all, I have friends there. Everything should… be fine…’

(Name) drifted off to sleep, the last image on her mind before she was taken to slumberland being the golden wolf peering at her with those scarlet eyes.

—————

(Name) packed a small basket full of jams and jellies, humming a tune as she carefully stacked a small jar of syrup on the top. “I know Menchi won’t be there to day, but Bisky loves my jams and jellies. Hopefully I’ll actually have a chance to speak with her…”

Bisky, being the head of the coven, was always busy. She was usually stuck talking with several other witches about various topics, or leaving early to conduct business with other covens. Getting the opportunity to talk to her was rare enough, but being able to sit down and have a conversation was nearly impossible, especially these days.

There had recently been several cases of witches and their familiars disappearing, or even familiars turning in their masters and killing then, so Bisky was especially busy dealing with the aftermath.

Each witch had a familiar bestowed upon them during a ceremony after becoming a full fledged witch. Some even had two or three, and witches with high status and great power possessed up to 10 familiars.

And there was (Name), with no familiar at all. At the ceremony, the wizard conducting it simply turned her away, saying she was not yet ready to become the master of familiar. Every other witch present had received their lifelong friend, while she went home empty handed.

It was lonely, all on her own. Watching the other witches go about their lives with the help and support of their familiars made her feel awfully… jealous. It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed harboring, so (Name) tried her best to be positive!

Bisky herself had said that it wasn’t unheard of for a witch to not receive their familiar during the bonding ceremony.

“Some witches just haven’t found their match yet, or perhaps they haven’t really found their true selves,” Bisky had said after the ceremony, in hopes of comforting (Name).

(Name) huffed, loading her basket onto her broom. “So much for being a late bloomer. It’s been nearly five years since I became a full fledged witch, and still nothing! No familiar, not a cat or owl, not even a frog! Hell, I’d settle for a tarantula at this point!”

She flew over the forest, tilting her head when she spotted a spot of gold walking slowly near the lake. (Name) flew a bit lower, her eyes widening when she spotted the same wolf she’d seen the day before.

This time, it seemed to be walking with a bit of a limp, a small trail of blood behind it. Her heart ached to see an animal in such pain, so she landed a safe distance away from it.

“Hey there, pup.”

The wolf stiffened, quickly turning its head to growl lowly at her. (Name) held up her hands, her broom floating behind her in case she needed a quick escape.

“Woah, easy. You’re hurt, and I can help you if you’ll let me.”

She didn’t know why she was talking to it, but she kept it up. “There’s no need to be afraid, sweetheart. Shh…”

The wolf’s ears flattened against its head, and it began to bare its teeth. (Name) yelped when it began to approach her, jumping on her broom just in time to escape its jaws. It snapped at her broom bristles, but she was thankfully in the air by then and bar away enough from its jaws to not get hurt.

But… the wolf didn’t seem to be trying too hard to chase her. (Name) had a feeling it wasn’t actually attacking her, more so just trying to scare her away.

She frowned as the wolf became a small speck, her heart hurting for the poor thing. (Name) hoped that the poachers that her fellow witches had chased out from the forest years ago weren’t back.

‘I’ll have to talk to Bisky about it… if I can talk to her that is.’

—————

(Name) landed in a vast meadow, wild flowers of various kinds softly swaying in the spring breeze. She took a moment to relax, bending down to pick a daily and place it in her basket.

‘Oh, I always forget where the doorway is…’ she thought to herself as she held out the stick end of her broom to feel around. When it bumped off of something solid, she grinned.

“There it is!”

(Name) reached forward and patted the surface until her hand landed on a doorknob. She turned it, and walked forward.

The empty flower field was replaced with a dark forested area, with lampposts leading down a snowy, worn down path. She could see the moon shining down through the canopy, filtered by the thick leaves until only small rays of light were visible.

‘I see the meeting is being hosted in the northern lands this time…’ she thought, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. The northern lands were often cold, even when spring came, snow still covered the land.

Each meeting was hosted in one of the four sectors of the world, North, South, East, and West. The north was her least favorite, due to the cold weather and people. The citizens of the north were often blunt and rude, having to time for warm pleasantries.

(Name) lived in the southern lands, where the weather was always warm and pleasant. Even the most severe winters in the south were not as cold as the northern spring.

She spotted the soft warm glow of a candle shining from a canon window. ‘There it is!’

(Name) opened the cabin door, revealing a bustling meeting hall. Witches all ages and genders walked around, speaking to one another and trading goods.

“(Name)!”

The woman yelped when she was tackled to the floor, knowing instantly who had done it.

“Gon, what did I tell you about jumping on her like some wild animal!?”

“Gon, Killua…” she smiled as she watched Killua drag his friend off of her, pinching his cheek.

“Hi, (Name)! It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to see you!”

She laughed, ruffling their hair. “Yeah, nearly three months. You weren’t able to attend the last few meetings due to Bisky’s training, right?”

The two shuddered. “Uh… we’d rather not talk about that.”

(Name) could remember her own training, which would have been way less intense than theirs due to her weaker body. Even so, she collapsed nearly every day from exhaustion, so she could only imagine the horrors they had endured.

“Ah… okay, how about you show me how your training has been coming along then?”

The three sat in an empty room as the two showed her new, complex spells they had learned. Killua was able to summon lightning and use it as a weapon, while Gon was able to harden his body. Both were spells even she couldn’t do.

“Oh wow, you’ve grown so much! Maybe that training was worth it then?”

Killua groaned. “Barely, I didn’t think we were going to survive another day of it.”

“Aww, it wasn’t that b- no, actually it was that bad. But I’m still grateful Bisky taught us so well!” Gon replied, giving her a smile.

She gave them both a hug. “I’m proud of you both. You should really come visit me sometime. Spring is here, so you can go play in the forest. There a lake~”

This excited the two, who both enjoyed swimming. “We'll definitely be coming by this summer!”

Before they could speak anymore, they heard a bell chiming. “Oh, we’ll talk later. The meeting is about to start!”

(Name) took her seat near Bisky. As her first apprentice, she had to be at Bisky’s side for every meeting. That didn’t mean she got Bisky’s attention, though. She couldn’t blame her mentor, for she was the leader of this coven.

“Hello, my friends. Our monthly meeting has begun, and I will announce any upcoming events before opening the floor for discussion.”

(Name) looked around the room, unsurprised when she saw multiple witches waiting impatiently for the floor to be open.

It was mostly the same elderly witches that always had some mundane problem… but what was surprising was Neon, one of the fledgling witches that hadn’t yet gotten her familiar, anxiously tapping her well manicured nails against the oak table.

“And with that, the floor is open to discussion.” Bisky said after finishing her announcements. Neon was quick to speak up, interrupting an elder.

“Some creature has been lurking in the south, killing my father’s livestock and scaring what it doesn’t eat half to death! It’s some kind of magical beast, I already did the identifying spell and it’s either some type of fae or a…”

She trailed off, her face going pale. Bisky raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “A what, Neon?”

“A… a werewolf.”

The sound of gasps and whispered conversation filled the meeting hall, only silenced when Bisky held up her hand to motion for the noise to cease.

“And you’re sure that’s what the spell said?”

Neon nodded, standing up to offer her grimoire. Bisky’s eyes scanned it, then she sighed heavily. “I see…”

(Name) frowned deeply, glancing from Neon to Bisky. She knew that Neon lived only half a day’s walk from her home, meaning if there was a werewolf causing trouble for her, it could potentially move onto (Name).

“As we all know, magical beasts are drawn to witches due to their magical power. This is good when it comes to making friends or getting a familiar, but leads to some… detrimental outcomes when the wrong creature gets attracted. And with the recent uptick in werewolf based attacks, I wouldn’t doubt this has troubled you, Neon.”

Bisky stood, walking around the table. “But be that as it may, werewolves are not evil in nature. They are simply beings that are different from us, and can be reasoned with and befriended just like most magical beasts.”

One witch scoffed. “Miss Bisky, with all due respect, all witches know werewolves are dangerous beasts that deserve to be put down to keep ourselves safe. I mean, haven’t the last three witch deaths been caused by werewolves?”

Bisky scowled. “That’s the kind of attitude that causes entire species to go extinct. A few werewolves have done wrong, yes, but how many humans have killed each other or other creatures? Do we all deserve to die due to the actions of a few individuals?”

The witch who spoke up immediately shrunk into herself, grumbling under her breath. (Name) noticed that several other witches also looked displeased with Bisky’s words, but said nothing.

“Neon, I’ll send you home with a spell that will ward off any fae or werewolves. It’s easy, and very effective.”

“Thank you, Bisky!”

The woman turned to the rest of the coven. “Now, what else needs to be discussed?”

———————-

“I respect Miss Bisky’s opinion, but werwolves are dangerous beasts!”

“I know, right? My friend’s cousin’s aunt’s stepbrother was killed by a werewolf!”

“And I heard that once a werewolf has seen you, it’ll tell its whole pack to come and eat you!”

“Oh that’s not the half of it! I heard-“

(Name) rolled her eyes as she passed by a group of gossiping witches, ushering Killua and Gon away. “Don’t listen to them, I’m sure not a single one of them have ever even seen a werewolf in person.”

“Have you, (Name)?”

(Name) paused when Gon asked her that innocent question, sighing softly. “Yes, once before. It was only for a moment while Bisky went to meet with one for a trade. It gave her some of its fur for a potion in exchange for a protection spell.”

“So… it didn’t attack you or Bisky?”

“Nope, so don’t listen to those witches. Not one single creature is the exact same as its kin. Some are more peaceful, some are violent, just like with humans. Once people come to accept that, we could possibly form an alliance with the werewolves.”

Killua huffed, digging in her satchel. Once he found what he was looking for, a bag of handmade candy, he swiped it. “Hey, you remembered to bring it!”

“Of course I did, silly. It’s your favorite.”

Killua popped one of the candies into his mouth as they walked, humming in delight. Gon grabbed one too. “Did you get to talk to Bisky, (Name)?”

The woman sighed, handing out her jam and syrup to a few witches she traded with. “Not yet, but I hope I’ll be able to catch her before she leaves. You know Bisky, she’s always busy.”

“You’re not wrong, but today I have a little bit of time to spare.”

The three jumped when they heard Bisky’s voice from behind them. “Bisky!”

(Name) jumped into her arms, easily being held up by the seemingly young looking girl. Everyone in the coven knew that Bisky was much older than she seemed, but little knew of her immense physical strength.

“Oh, (Name) my dear, you’ve gotten a bit bigger haven't you? It feels like just yesterday I was carrying you home from the orphanage and giving you your first wand.”

“B-Bisky! That’s embarrassing…”

The woman laughed, setting (Name) down. “Alright, alright… what is it you wanted to talk about, dear?”

(Name) gave Bisky a shy smile, handing her the jams and jellies she brought for her. “I wanted to give your u these and ask how the situation with the rogue familiars has been going.”

Bisky stiffened, glancing to the two boys before digging. “Come, (Name). Let’s discuss things in private.”

With a wave of her wand, (Name) and Bisky were transported to a vacant room. Bisky made sure the door was closed before beginning to speak in a hushed voice.

“I didn’t want to scare anyone, so I’ve been keeping some of the information private. But…” she sighed, looking out the window, into the snow. “Every single familiar that attacked their witch was a werewolf.”

(Name)’s blood ran cold at the revelation, her eyes widening as Bisky turned to meet her gaze. “Every single one? That’s…”

“Unusual, I know. Werewolves in and of themselves are rare to have as a familiar because they’re reluctant to be bound to a witch… so the fact that each familiar was a werewolf is suspicious.”

“What could be the motive? I find it hard to believe a familiar would just kill its master like that! In all of witch history, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Bisky opened her own grimoire. “I agree with you, it is hard to believe. But the detection spell pointed to each familiar being a werewolf. We have yet to find and question any of the suspects due to them fleeing the scene once the bond to their master was broken…”

(Name) frowned deeply. “And with what Neon said today, if this news got out, the entire coven will be in hysterics. There will be werewolf hunts and-“

“That’s why they can’t find out. You are the only person outside of my trusted inner circle that knows of this, (Name).”

She looked at Bisky, confused. “But why would you tell me, Bisky? I’m not as strong or intelligent as others, so why would you give me this information and not someone more qualified?”

Bisky smiled at that, chuckling. “That, I cannot say my dear. You are destined for great things, and I just want you to be informed so when it’s time for you to make decisions… you’ll have all the information you need to make the right choice.”

“That’s really cryptic, Bisky.”

The older woman only smiled, beckoning her to follow. “Come, I must take my leave. Let’s walk and talk.”

The two continued to chat as they walked towards the entrance of the cabin. “I’ll send you home with a spell, dear. It is quite late in the southerners sector by now, hmm?”

(Name) nodded, grabbing hold of her broom.

“Oh, and (Name)?”

She looked up as Bisky raised her wand. “Yes?”

“Kindness and patience is always key.”

With that, she was sent home. She appeared in her cottage, the fire lighting the second she stepped close.

“I wonder what she meant by that…”

———————

(Name) brushed off her dress, staring out into the forest. She really had to go back into the forest to gather supplies… but she was worried she would encounter that wolf again.

With a sigh, she pocketed her wand and carried her broom. They were just there in case she sensed any danger. Unfortunately, she wasn’t great with defensive or attack spells, it was why she took to healing magic and concoctions instead.

But she knew a few illusion spells that may buy her some time to escape… hopefully those would work.

(Name) walked along the work down path, much more alert than usual. She listened for the sounds of the forest, making sure to listen for any branches snapping or leaves rustling.

She was able to make it back to the lake with no problems, sighing in relief. There, she unloaded her jars from her basket and began placing shells, underwater plantlife, and some of the nutrient rich soil to add to her garden.

Unbeknownst to her, she was being watched from a distance, a pair of scarlet eyes following her as she walked along the lake’s edge.

Once she finished, (Name) was surprised to see the wolf with the golden coat standing only a few meters away from her. Although it growled when she moved, it made no other signs of aggression, only watching her… as if it was curious.

“Hello, again…” (Name) said softly, staying still as it approached. She kept her hand in her pocket on her wand, but began to relax. It only circled her, chuffing when it moved behind her.

She tensed, but relaxed again when it appeared on her left side. It was inspecting her, sniffing her… was that normal behavior for a wild animal?

Its scarlet eyes focused on her, and she noticed it still had that slight limp when it walked. “Are you… injured?”

As if it could understand her, the creature tensed, the fur on its back rising. “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you…”

Taking a chance, she slowly reached out her hand to place it on its head. She had a connection with animals, having rehabilitated many woodland creatures. A wolf couldn’t be that different, right?

Well, she was wrong. The beast growled before snapping its jaws at her hand, barely missing her fingers. It then ran away, slower than it usually would be due to its injured paw.

Her heart hurt from the sight. Had it been trying to ask her for help? It was possible the poor thing was someone’s pet that had been let go after learning how hard it was to take care of a wolf. Maybe that’s why it was both comfortable around humans and also weary of them?

(Name) made a decision that day. She would gain that wolf’s trust, and maybe… even make it her familiar.

———————

As the days turned into weeks, (Name) visited the forest every day she could. She saw the wolf often, sometimes from the corner of her eye, and sometimes it came in direct contact with her.

She always sat patiently, letting it come to her. (Name) had learned her lesson, and eventually she was able to sit in silence with the wolf by her side as she did mundane tasks like cleaning out her jars or sewing by the lake.

It had yet to let her touch it, but she didn’t mind. She would get it to trust her… it needed medical attention, more than she thought. It was scrawny, hungry looking, as if it was having trouble hunting by itself.

She started bringing out raw meat from the market and leaving it by the lake for it, and when its condition started to improve slowly, she knew that it was eating.

Once she started feeding it, the wolf began trusting her a great deal more. It now followed her down the pathway when she walked home, a slight sway in its tail.

She was making great progress, and the two seemed to have a mutual trust that neither would hurt the other. Every time she came to the lake, it was waiting there for her. It would eat, then sit nearby as she did what she needed to do, then walked her home. It had become her routine.

That’s why it surprised her when it wasn’t there when she came.

“Pup?”

(Name) called for it, patting her thigh and whistling. Usually it would have come to greet her by now…

The silence in the forest was almost eerie, as if everything was holding its breath. There was no birdsong, no squirrels skittering from tree to tree… just silence.

“Something is wrong…”

It was growing dark, and she was hurrying back as quickly as she could. (Name) had heard from some other forest dwelling witches that when the sounds of the forest stopped, that meant there was a large predator around, something that made the squirrels and birds hide in fear.

Had the wolf gone into hiding too?

She didn’t have to wonder for long. As she neared her cottage, her eyes widened in horror. There were bloodied paw prints leading down the stone path to her front door, and laying on her doorstep was the golden wolf.

It panted loudly, its fur matted with blood. (Name) immediately kneeled at its side, trying to hold back tears. The injured paw was trapped in a bear trap, and it had gashed on its belly and back… as it had been attacked with a knife…

When it growled at her touch, she simply shushed it. “Shh, shh, I’m here. You came to my home for a reason, right? I can help you…”

Although it still snarled and yelped as she hoisted it into her home with great effort, it made no attempts to sink its teeth into her flesh.

As soon as it was inside, she summoned as many bandages as she could, along with a metal bar to help her pry the bear trap off.

“This is going to hurt, pup. Don’t bite me…”

The wolf laid its head down, as if telling her it trusted her to help. It growled and snarled in pain as she pried open the bear trap. Once its paw was free, she examined the damage.

His paw was barely hanging on… thankfully she focused on healing magic. She was able to reattach his paw and clean the wound, bandaging it before moving onto the gashed on his body.

(Name) collapsed in exhaustion after hours of working on the wolf. Her efforts had paid off, as it was now sleeping peacefully by the fire.

‘At least one of us is able to sleep…’ she thought, rising from the couch to wash the blood from her hands. She’s exhausted all of her magic saving the wolf’s life, which worried her slightly. That meant if it were to attack for any reason, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.

After much thought, she realized that even if it wanted to hurt her, it would be unable. The thing couldn’t stand, much less leap out and attack her, so she decided to sleep next to it… just to watch over it, of course… the fact that it was so soft and warm had nothing to do with it…

———————-

(Name) woke up in the early hours of the morning, the sun not even up yet. She could have only been asleep for a few hours, as the fire was still going…

She sat up, yawning and rubbing her eyes… but paused when she took a second look at the fire.

She hasn’t remembered putting that second log in the fireplace… before she slept, she had even cursed herself for not doing so.

(Name) felt a chill run up her spine and immediately turned to see if the wolf was okay… but instead of seeing its beautiful golden fur and large form m, she was met with something much smaller hidden under the blanket…

Smaller, but still bigger than her, whatever it was wriggled the second she spoke. “U-um…”

She expected the wolf to perhaps be some kind of magical beast that turned into something smaller when injured to conserve power… and she wasn’t that far off.

When she pulled back the blanket, instead of a furred creature, she came face to face with a handsome… man?

“… hello…”

For finding a man in the place of the injured wolf she saved, (Name) took the situation well. And by well, she screamed and scooted away, wielding her wand.

“W-who are you and what did you do to that wolf!? Are you some kind of poacher? A pervert? A poaching pervert!?”

The person squinted at her, sighing. “No… I’m neither of those… I-“

He winced in pain, whimpering as the blanket fell around him. (Name)’s eyes went wide as she saw the bandages decorating his form, the same ones she had applied to the wolf last night…

The things that finally clued her in were the wolf ears perched atop of his blonde head, and tail limp on his back.

“Y-you’re…”

“A werewolf…” he muttered, his ears flattening against his head. “You… helped me, and… I understand if you no longer want to help now that you know what I am. I simply ask that… you let me recover until I am able to move…”

She swallowed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter what you are. You’re hurt, and I won’t let you suffer.”

The man looked on in mild shock as she helped him onto the couch. “This should be more comfortable… I’ll need to redo your bandages soon…”

The man watched her work silently. She redressed his wounds with a skill that was uncommon for women in their era. Once she was done, it was only then that her eyes trailed down his torso to look for anything else that she may have missed when his thick fur was in the way…

“Oh.”

Her face warmed, her eyes going wide.

He was completely and utterly nude, barely covering his groin with the blanket. His wolf ear twitched as she turned away, flustered.

‘I forgot, werewolves lose their clothing when they turn…’

For now, she simply covered him with a blanket, too tired to do anything else. With that, she left him to sleep on the couch and headed to bed.

‘What am I going to do? There’s a werewolf on my couch, right after Neon mentioned one eating her livestock. Is it the same one..? Could it… be connected to the familiars going rogue?’

She sighed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. ‘Well, whatever the case is, it’s my responsibility now. I decided to save its life, and I don’t regret it. Once it’s back to full health, I’ll think of what to do…’

With that decided, she drifted off to sleep, exhausted from her long day.

———————

In the living room, the werewolf stared up at the ceiling, his head filled with the images of the events he had been through.

‘I thought they lost my trail… those damn poachers will do anything to complete their collection…’

His heart ached to think of his clan, their coats skinned from their bodies after they were forced to transform and fight each other for their captors’ amusement. It made his blood boil to think of how scared the pups must have been, how the elders must have died comforting them with their final breaths, just for all of their words to mean nothing in the end.

He hated humans and their endless lust for money and power. For years he had avoided human contact, stued in his wolf form and attacked anyone that came near in fear of being hurt again…

That was until he met her.

Even before they officially met, he had been stalking her through the woods for months. At first, he had planned on killing her and taking over her cabin for himself. In his mind, it was only fair. Humans killed and stole from nature every single day, honestly he thought he was doing the world a favor taking one of them out.

But (Name) wasn’t like other humans. Every day, he watched her take only what she needed, and left behind gifts for the fairies and animals. She tended to the wounded creatures and made sure she never over stayed her welcome.

It would be dishonest to say he likes her, but she was the closest thing to tolerable a human could get in his eyes. So when he met her, he found himself unable to hurt her.

Though at first he kept his distance and attempted to bite her if she strayed too close, he never intended to actually hurt her. If he wanted to, he could have easily tore into her throat and feasted on her flesh… but he didn’t.

This human, this girl had become something akin to a friend to him. Despite his hatred for her kind, he couldn’t help following after her and staying by her side. It felt soothing, safe… almost familiar in a way. It reminded him of when he was just a pup and would follow behind his mother while she hunted or gathered ingredients for dinner.

So when he was attacked by the very poachers that killed his family, he escaped with only one thing in mind.

‘I have to find her!’

He followed her scent, barely dragging his wounded hide to her home and collapsing on the front step. He never would have thought that he would trust a human to help him, not after what he had been put through.

Even now, as he laid there powerless and unable to move, his mind was still conflicted. Was this really okay? Could he truly rely on this human to tend to him when he was utterly defenseless?

‘It doesn’t really look like I have much of a choice…’

Winning his trust would not be easy, but if she could… (Name) would gain a loyal companion.

Only time could tell what would become of these two…

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notafragilething · 3 days

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Not-So-Late Night Buck & Tommy Ramblings: I'm Back!

I have survived my chaos week and, with the help of a very large Iced Latte, I'm here to share all the thoughts that have been building up this week in the world of Buck & Tommy. I'm not going in any specific order but I'm going to start with the thing I find most significant and that is what is happening in regards to interviews with Ryan this past week.

Another clip of Ryan talking about Buddie dropped today and I've seen two extremely opposite reactions to it amongst fans. In this clip he basically said he wasn't a writer, he'd be open to it if it happened but said it was important for the storyline to be seen as a heterosexual man supporting his bisexual friend and how things didn't change. Some people think this means Buddie is definitely happening in season 8 (or even a reveal of some feelings this season) while others think this means that Buddie is getting less and less likely. Those favoring it and saying it means Buddie will happen seem to be focusing on the fact that they were still allowed to ask Buddie-related questions. I bring this up because I do think it plays into the discussion of whether Tommy will be a more long term love interest moving into season 8.

What I find most important about this answer is how it is almost exactly the same as all his other responses to Buddie-related questions from that week. He hit the exact same key points and I think it's very obvious at this point this isn't an organic answer. These are points that PR and marketing very likely told him to hit. And the fact that he is answering all Buddie related questions by explicitly saying Eddie is heterosexual is really standing out to me. That is, in my opinion, very intentional.

So what do I think it means? I think it means that they are definitely not planning on buddie happening (this season or next). They are intentionally linking all questions about buddie to very explicit statements that the one member of that pairing isn't queer. One big issue earlier this season, when Buck came out, was websites taking answers from other interviews and writing clickbait articles suggesting Buddie was going to happen. This makes it harder for those types of articles to pop up. It's why we likely haven't seen as many like we did with Oliver's statements (which were very similar minus explicitly saying Eddie was heterosexual). I personally think this is how they'll handle it for the remainder of the season and they'll progressively continue to distance themselves from Buddie moving into next season. Personally, I think there is a lot happening to suggest Tommy is sticking around and they're being intentional with how parts of the fandom are reacting to that. Especially since it's been a very positive reaction so far for this new couple of BuckTommy.

In other news, which is somewhat related, we know we're getting Tommy next week because he is was in the trailer. We also know that we're getting Captain Gerard at the medal ceremony. I've seen a lot of people predicting this will somehow impact Buck and Tommy but personally, I think this is going to play into bringing Tommy more into the 118 family. I think we're more likely to see an interaction between Tommy, Hen and Chimeny over him being there.

In my last post I also had people asking me about Oliver deleting a bunch of photos from Instagram. I did a bit of research and that seems like it's the norm for him.

Be back tonight for an update on the Buck/Tommy Hospital kiss reel because it hit 1 million views.

#911 abc #evan buckley #bucktommy #tommy kinard #tevan #eddie diaz #firepilot

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raynewolfegirl · 3 days

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Meta Jazz, the Arkham Intern Therapist Pt 2.1

Note: The writing bug bit me while wading through the comments and replies so you guys get more! 😁 Special thanks to @the-scarecrow-of-aus & @starlightcat04 for helping spark this continuation!

Also, so you're not confused, this part is from Kon's POV and backtracks to before the Bane incident to explain how Kon started going undercover in Arkham. Pt 2.2 has the Bane incident from Kon's POV.

~*~*~

When Kon got the call from Tim asking if he'd be willing to do a favor for him, he hadn't expected it to be an undercover assignment in the infamous Arkham Asylum itself.

"You want me to do what?" He asked staring at Tim in disbelief once he reached the Nest to debrief.

"Go undercover as a new guard in Arkham." Tim repeated with a deadpan expression looking over his shoulder at Kon from his computer chair. Holy fuck, his eyebags were bad.

"Have you slept in the past week, Tim?" Kon asked, taking in his best friend's appearance.

Tim frowned at the question.

"I don't see how that's relevant but yes." He answered, heartbeat unchanging. Which didn't really mean anything since it was Tim but Kon decided he'd believe him.

For now.

Kon sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay, I'll do it." He said. "Can you tell me why we need someone undercover at least?"

Tim eyes widened, startled by the question like he was surprised Kon didn't know yet even though Tim hadn't told him yet. Okay, deep breaths, calm down, Tim clearly hasn't slept in at least two days. Kon coached himself as his temper flared up at the evidence that Tim wasn't taking care of himself again. All the Supers agreed: sometimes you just wish you could beat some sense into the Bats and make them take care of themselves like normal human beings.

"Ah. Right." Tim said, turning back to the computer and pulling up some files as he explained. "Two thing have occured within roughly fifteen days of each other that together are rather suspicious. First, Dr. Thomas Rylie, Jonathan Crane's undergraduate roommate and classmate throughout undergrad and grad school, was hired to work as one of the new in house psychiatrists at Arkham Asylum. They also got their doctorates from the same school during the same time frame and both focused on the impact fear has on the brain. Dr. Rylie's focus was on fear conditioning and Dr. Crane's focus was on fear responses." Well, that sounds suspicious.

"Second, Gotham University lost their minds and began an undergraduate and graduate internship program partnering with Arkham Asylum."

Kon went cold. They did what?

Pictures of the Asylum, University, and three people -presumably Scarecrow, Dr. Rylie, and a young woman- filled the computer screen now.

"The internship program has only one applicant so far and she'd already started working at the Arkham. Her name is Jasmine Fenton and her background is...sparse, to say the least." Tim turned in his chair to face Kon.

"I'm too recognizable in Gotham and among the rogues to successfully go undercover in Arkham so I've set you up with an apartment and ID as 'Kyle Jennings.' You're scheduled to start work at Arkham as a new guard tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Kon said with a nod. "What do you need confirmed? What are the primary objectives?" He prodded Tim again since his friend's sleep deprived brain seemed to think that was enough information for debriefing. It wasn't. Definitely not. A lot was implied but it wouldn't be the first time Tim had completely different intentions than what Kon had understood from his briefing. Sleep deprived Tim frequently assumed others could read his mind or something. Sleep deprived Tim was wrong.

"We need to determine if Dr. Rylie is here working for Scarecrow as part of some new scheme. We need to determine if Jasmine Fenton is complicit. We need to know if Gotham U is also in on it. And we need to find out what exactly Scarecrow is the planning." Tim stated automatically as he ticked each one off on his fingers.

"Got it. Guess I'll head over to my new apartment then and start prepping for tomorrow." Kon said, heading towards the exit. Tim hummed in agreement waving a hand in his direction as he left. That dumbass was probably already absorbed in the next case. Kon sighed, hopefully Tim would at least pass out sometime later tonight.

~*~*~

Kon's first day at Arkham wasn't anything special. He didn't see Jasmine, Dr. Rylie, or Scarecrow. He didn't see any rogues or doctors at all. It was just a really Gotham kind of orientation.

"This is where we keep a cache of stun grenades, long-range scope rifles, tranquilizer rounds, and rubber bullets." His new supervisor and guide through orientation, Alex Fhizer, said as he showed Kon how to access, inventory, lock, and re-conceal the cache. "Everytime you pass by a cache on patrol, you will check the inventory again and sign off on it with the date and time. If anything is different from the previous inventory entry, you will immediately radio the tower and the island will be put on lockdown." Greyish Hazel eyes peered out of a weathered face staring Kon down. "You will never neglect to inventory a cache while on patrol. You will never neglect to report an inventory discrepancy. The first time you do you will be fired immediately and you can count yourself damn lucky if that's all that happens to you."

Fhizer was intense, man.

"Yes, Sir." Kon answered. Fhizer's hard look lasted another long moment before the older man gave a firm nod and continued showing Kon the ropes.

~*~*~

The second day was no where near as chill as the first. Hell, his brain was already starting to warp, there hadn't been anything chill about that orientation.

Kon started his second day by boarding the Arkham transport bus with the rest of the staff and early morning visitors to the island. That was where he saw Jasmine Fenton in the flesh for the first time.

She has got to be part Amazonian, was his first thought upon seeing her. She was around 6ft tall with a thick mane of red hair tightly braided reaching all the way down to her waist. Jasmine was wearing teal stud earrings, a silver bangle type bracelet on her left wrist, a white blouse, black slacks, and black flats. She carried a small, clear purse that only held a small notepad, pen, house key, chapstick, and a thin teal wallet that presumably contained her IDs, debit cards, and a small amount of cash. Damn, she was tall.

Kon's concentration was broken by the quiet sound of metal crunching slightly beneath his fingers. He immediately loosened his grip on the hand rail, checking for damage with a wince. He breathed a soft sigh of relief when he saw the damage was almost entirely unnoticeable to the naked eye. He'd have to mind his strength more closely. Kon was too used to the farm and facilities that were all reinforced to handle casual use from people with super strength.

Tim's notes indicated Arkham wasn't reinforced for super strength anywhere. Not even along the outer walls. The facility had opted to use suppression collars on their meta inmates instead since they were cheaper and easier to repair and replace according to the official reports. However, Tim's notes had also mentioned that Arkham had reinforced the outer walls to account for super strength at one point. They'd poured nearly every dime the facility could spare into the project for months until the Joker himself had taken it personally. The madman had absolutely obliterated the reinforced outer walls until no part of them remained standing. Given Joker had destroyed the walls without having any meta powers at all and his history of viciously attacking -damn near mauling- anyone that tried to put him in a straight jacket, Kon didn't really blame Arkham for stopping while they were ahead.

Kon looked up as the bus jolted to a stop. The other passengers filing off around him. He watched as Jasmine Fenton was met by Dr. Rylie in front of the bus as he waited to disembark.

"Ms. Jasmine!" Dr. Rylie greeted her enthusiastically with a broad open grin and beaming eyes. He reached towards her with both arms, hands open and she reached back. Their right hands clasped as their left hands landed on the other's upper arms as the two greeted one another openly. Kon wasn't very familiar with intern-mentor relationships nor what would be considered normal or professional for them, but it looked like a rather affectionate greeting for them having been strangers two weeks ago. That was strange, wasn't it? Was Tim right to be worried about them?

"Ms. Jasmine is the first and only applicant for Dr. Rylie, Director Keener, and Dean Byle's hairbrained idea to hire more doctors for this place." One of the older guards that had been standing just behind him on the bus explained having apparently noticed Kon watching the pair.

"They just seemed rather affectionate for Gotham." Kon shrugged dismissively as he turned to look over his shoulder at his new colleague. The shorter man laughed.

"A bit, yeah." He agreed. "I think Dr. Rylie is just desperate for this program to work out." He continued as they finally managed to get off the bus. Dr. Rylie and Ms. Fenton were gone now. "Pretty much everyone's been treating her like a princess."

"That doesn't seem fair to everyone else." Kon commented, dropping back a bit to let the older man lead the way to the guards room for morning debriefing and to get their assignments. He'd already memorized the layouts but 'Kyle Jennings' shouldn't have yet.

"Who cares about fair as long as it works?" The guard answered. "If treating her like a princess scores more interns for the program in the long run, and if one intern every year ends up interested in sticking around, I'll be happy to cater to every single one of them." He confessed, stopping in the middle of the hall to turn and face Kon directly. Kon glimpsed the name Ryans as the silver name badge flashed the briefly reflecting the overhead lights. "You non-gothamites just don't get it. We're desperate for whatever help we can get."

"That's why I applied here." Kon lied. "Going to school across the bay, I heard a lot about what went down over here while I was in college. I want to help."

Ryans gave a short solemn nod then turned and led the rest of the way to the break room.

~*~*~

Day four undercover was when Kon officially met Jasmine Fenton.

Everything had been going well so far with his undercover assignment. He'd settled in to the role of Kyle Jennings, been getting along well with his new coworkers including Ryans and Fhizer, and hadn't yet managed to screw up inventorying the caches during the outer patrol loops. That being said, Kon was having other issues.

The worst part of being an unstable Kryptonian clone was that his strength tended to fluctuate. It normally wasn't much of an issue when he was surrounded by reinforced everything in his daily life but here at Arkham it was becoming a problem. Case in point, Kon thought to himself with an exhausted groan as his freshly made coffee mug shattered in his hand.

"Oh come on." He sighed snatching a handful of paper towels from the counter and bending to wipe up the coffee and ceramic shards on the floor. At least he was the only one in the room when it shattered. The door clicked softly behind him and Kon jumped twisting to look.

Jasmine Fenton stood behind him having just closed the door to the break room after entering.

"What happened here?" She asked, sounding bewildered with slightly wide eyes as she took in the mess on the floor. Thank God. She didn't see it.

"Guess I was a bit more tired than I thought." He said with a forced laugh in order to hide his nerves. "Slipped right through my fingers."

She nodded, accepting his words at face value.

"I've done that more than a few times close to finals." She admitted. "You guys have 10 hour shifts, right? You must be exhausted. When's your next day off?"

"The day after tomorrow." Kon said. "This is day 3 for me since orientation doesn't count."

"You get 2 days off followed by an on-call day, right?" She asked.

"Right," Kon agreed. "AKA 2 days of freedom and a day chained to the Bowery." He joked.

"Absolutely terrible, they may as well put an ankle monitor on you." She cracked back grinning. Kon snickered. The door opened again.

"I see you found another non-gothamite here." Dr. Rylie said striding into the break room with a wide grin.

"Sounds like that makes three of us." Kon agreed. Outside of Joker, he had never seen a gothamite grin that wide in his life.

"Dr. Thomas Rylie, a pleasure to meet you." Dr. Rylie introduced himself holding out his hand to shake. Kon shook his hand as gently as possible, mindful his strength was on the fritz.

"Kyle Jennings, nice to meet you. I just started as a guard earlier this week." He said then held his hand out to shake Jasmine's.

"Jasmine Fenton, I'm an intern therapist. This is my second week here." She greeted with a warm smile shaking Kon's hand. She didn't say anything about being glad to meet him, Kon noted. It wasn't exactly strange behavior but something made him take note of it anyway. Like by not saying it she was saying she hadn't decided whether meeting him was a good or bad thing yet. Dr. Rylie didn't seem to notice anything off with the interaction though as he went about making his own coffee. The three of them made idle small talk as they made their own coffees. Once his new cup was ready, Kon bid them both goodbye and went on his way. While they were his main objective, lingering too long this early into their aquantiantship would probably be strange.

He had several other small friendly interactions with both of them over the next few days. Taking the time for greetings, small talk, and sharing small bits of casual background info from Kyle Jennings's past to encourage them both to open up to him. He also broke a clipboard, two more coffee cups, several pens, and a doorknob during that time as his strength continued to fluctuate. The doorknob had been particularly embarrassing. He had gone to open the door for Jasmine when he saw her with her arms full of files and somehow managed to twist it in such a way that the screws holding it in place sheered off and the knob came off in his hand. Collins, his partner for building patrol that day, burst out laughing hysterically as Kon stared at the doorknob in horror.

"No worries, man." Collins said, clapping Kon on the shoulder still snickering. "Someone else probably broke it and put it back so they wouldn't get scolded or something."

"Yeah," Kon said with a nervous laugh. "That must be what happened."

Jasmine's eyes flicked between the two of them then she grinned.

"And here I thought you just really hated that door." She teased Kon. He felt his face heat up as Collins laughed at him again.

"It is an ugly door." Collins agreed enthusiastically smirking.

"Terribly ugly. Hideous even," Jasmine said with a smile.

"Possibly even traumatizing to behold," Collins continued to smirk.

"You've got me. I have a deep rooted traumatic fear of metal taupe doors." Kon deadpanned ears burning. Jasmine snickered as Kon got the door open for her and they went their separate ways.

~*~*~

"What have you found so far?" Tim asked. Kon did not have the words to express how much he didn't want to be at the Nest at 3am on his first day off from undercover work. If it was anyone other than Tim he wouldn't have even answered the phone.

"Literally nothing," Kon said dryly. "I am still the newest of newbies at Arkham. I practically spent the whole week being babysat by senior guardsmen." He sighed, reminding himself that it wasn't Tim's fault that he was a little insomniac goblin and that Kon really did love his friend and would be sad if he hurt Tim's feelings. Eventually. When he woke up again in the morning. "I did start befriending them both though. It's slow going since we're in different areas but nearly being the only non-gothamites there seems to be helping me make some headway at least."

There was one other non-gothamite on staff, a medical nurse named Sharon Earley. She was in her mid-thirties and the most sour and unpleasant person Kon had had the displeasure of meeting so far on Arkham's staff. Not that Kon could blame her for that. Not when she had several large ragged scars spanning from her chin and down both of her arms from when Zsazz had gotten hold of her alone after dark her second year at Arkham. It was a damn miracle she'd survived him. Kon didn't know how she managed it but he wouldn't try to find out either. Ryans had taken him aside right before he first met Nurse Earley and warned him not to stare or ask about any of it and then explained the bare basics of what happened to her after they'd left.

Tim probably had a file with every detail of that night as well as information about Sharon Earley's life both before and after that night somewhere on his computer. The thought made Kon nauseous.

"Good, good," Tim said absently as he updated the mission file on his computer. The keys clicked so rapidly that Kon again reconsidered whether or not his best friend had super speed. "Better to keep them from suspecting than to rush in anyway."

"Exactly."

Tim continued asking questions about every little detail he could think of concerning Dr. Rylie, Jasmine Fenton, and the rogues currently in Arkham.

"They don't let me near those guys yet. I'm too new." Kon said when Tim asked if Scarecrow looked to be plotting more than usual.

"They don't?" Tim sounded surprised, going so far as to stop typing so he could turn and stare at Kon. The clone was amused to note something about his statement had managed to wake Tim up enough to be visibly shocked instead blank-faced with exhaustion.

"Of course not," Kon answered trying to keep the amusement from his voice as much as possible. "As many times as your rogues have broken out they're leary of letting new hires near them in case they're goons in disguise."

Tim sank back into his chair looking like Kon had uprooted his whole world by proving the Earth really was flat via actual science.

"That's impossible." Tim said sounding faint. "Everytime there's a mass breakout, we always hear that some of the guards helped them escape. How?..." He trailed off, eyes darting rapidly like he was tracking lines of an invisible conspiracy board in the air in front of him. Kon shrugged, uncomfortable with this new information.

"Scuttlebutt is that the people helping them escape are visitors. The guards get blamed because the goons visit wearing clothes similar to the guard uniform from a distance. All blue polo shirts and black pants look similar at a distance." Kon explained. "It also doesn't help that the guards can't really do much to stop the escape attempts since they only have stun grenades, tranquilizer darts, batons, low voltage tazers, and rubber bullets to fight back with. So as long as enough people are involved in the escape attempt at least some of them will make it out even if the guards manage to to tranquilize several of them."

Tim still looked like Kon was blowing his mind. It was such a rare experience that Kon had to continue.

"Plus the tranquilizer darts and the rubber bullets have to be fired from different hardware." Kon told him. "Which sucks because you have to carry twice the amount of weight while chasing after the escapees which slows you down and it takes longer to swap between them."

There was something similar to mystified horror spreading across his friend's face now.

"Speaking if swapping between them, they have different ranges too." Kon continued gleefully. Half because it was fun wrecking Tim's worldview and half to actually impart the information. "Batons are short-range. Tranquilializer darts and stun grenades are mid-range. Rubber bullet riffles are long-range."

"If that's all it is, WE can fund then better gear to control the inmates." Tim interrupted turning back to the computer and swiftly typing out a list of things to send Arkham. Kon shook his head.

"That won't work." He disagreed gently. "They aren't failing because of the gear itself."

Tim turned back around to face him, confused. This was not going to be a fun conversation, Kon swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.

"The problem is that if you fire the rubber bullet riffles from mid or short range you could seriously injury or even kill the patient. If they get past mid-range, you'll miss them completely using tranquilizer darts or stun grenades. If you try to use either of those at short-range it'll be bad for you whether it's because they'll get hold of you before the tranquilizer knocks them out or because you'll stun yourself too."

Comprehension and trepidation began to dawn on Tim's face. He deflated in his chair, sinking lower and lower as he stared off into nowhere.

"You also can't hit them with more than one tranquilizer dart in a four hour window because you could accidently kill them that way. That also means even though you have a baton, you typically can't do enough damage to them to keept them from escaping because that might potentially kill them." Kon said completely solemn now as he relayed the information. "Because regardless of the reputation Arkham has or what the patients have done, it is still a hospital and they are still patients."

Tim was staring directly at Kon now. Mouth open, face slack, eyes wide with a kind of numbed shock. Kon held his gaze.

"Yeah," Kon said after a moment. "Yeah, that's how I reacted too." He looked down, picking at his nails for a moment before forcing himself to stop and meet Tim's gaze again. "Phizer, my new 'boss', made sure to drill that into my head during orientation. 'Arkham's guards exist first and foremost to protect the patients. Arkham isn't supposed to be a prison. It's a medical facility. The patients are confined to the premises because their affliction has made them dangerous and they have to stay so that we can keep them and others safe from further harm. We are here to keep the patients and staff from hurting each other, themselves, or being hurt by people outside of Arkham's walls.' Not gonna lie, man." Kon said quirking a bitter grin as his did. "Hearing that kind of fucked me up a bit."

Tim sucked in a huge heaving breath then slowly let it out before he responded.

"I can't say I ever thought about it like that." He admitted in a soft strained voice. "Can't say I ever wanted to either." There was a bitter tinge to his words.

"Yeah, neither did I." Kon answered, shoulders slumping a bit. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask me? I kind of want to head back and sleep a bit."

Tim shook his head slowly.

"No, I think we're good at the moment." He said looking twice as exhausted and drained now as he did when Kon first got there. Kon nodded.

"Good night then. I'll see you later, man." He said, pushing off the wall he'd been leaning against and heading for the door.

"Be safe, Kon." Tim answered softly turning back to his computer.

#Meta Jazz Arkham Intern Therapist #Meta Jazz #Arkham Intern Therapist #MJAIT #AIT #Meta Jazz AIT #dc x dp #dcxdp #dp x dc #dpxdc #Jazz/Kon #Eventually that's the goal anyway #Side note I do not headcanon Arkham this way #But Jazz went through her 'I can fix them' stage during high school #And in my experience most people don't try to 'fix others' again after they fail the first several times #Jack & Maddie definitely weren't fixed in this story #So I couldn't see her willingly interning at Arkham if it was actually like how it is in DCU #Since the internship program is optional #Which begged the question why everyone thinks Arkham is Like That #So Kon gave you the answer #Also sorry if he's really OOC #I have never written his POV before and finding a voice for him was hard #Tim's shit got rocked #tw: cursing #my Kon curses because he's through his rebellious stage already but linguistic habits stuck around #Oh yeah #and his powers are fluctuating because the density of the smog and cloud layer over Gotham is constantly changing

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dried-mushroom · 2 days

Note

Omg can you please write about Lee Russell being mean to you in front of Gamby as like a power display or something but then when y'all get home (y'all are like Secretly dating since you're just a teacher) he's all nice and romantic to apologize?

YIPPEE I found another lee Russell lover! don't judge please I'm Australian so I have little concept of American education. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Lil angsty and implied sex

Be mean to me

Lee Russell x reader (well Christine sucks so she's not in this story)

Life was pretty peachy as a history teacher in North Jackson high school, you were stuck teaching from a range of boring topics to your either half asleep, barely listening or teacher pet students, except you were sleeping with the vice principal, Lee Russell. You couldn't resist that southern charm radiating off his tongue when he spoke those words on your first day as a teacher, in the parking lot.

"Mornin' Sweetheart, are you lost? The names Lee Russell, Vice principal of this very high school and you're way too fuckin' pretty to be a high school teacher."

After taking a good look at the lanky man who called himself the vice principal, you couldn't help yourself, and after promptly introducing you to your fellow teachers, he briskly walked you to the janitors closet where you both spent all morning. Obviously, you both knew this had to be kept a secret, boss and employee dating is a no-go, although that did not stop you both from being affectionate when no was watching, sharing a peck when you went to visit him at his office or the grasp of his hand on your thigh under the table at meetings or after work, where it was safe to be yourselves and you could lay together watching borderline cheesy romcom movies whilst Lee critiques his heart out.

You sighed contently as the bell for seventh period rang, the mingled voices of your 6th period ancient history class rushed out the door to their next useless class and you could finally relax and start lesson planning for the next 45 minutes. You let your hands run down your thighs, smoothing out your new dress (this but more teacher appropriate). You brought this specifically for Lee, you knew of his love for colours, hence his usually eccentric clothing choices, you knew he'd love the pattern on you. You couldn't help but smile giddily and walk out of the classroom, you knew you could easily finish the planning later and you'd rather spend the last of the school day with Lee.

You swiftly walked down the hall to administration, smiled sweetly at Swift, because you knew how rude Gamby was to her for no reason, and she didn't deserve that, like Gamby seriously needs a reality check in your opinion.

"Afternoon Miss Swift, I hope you're doing alright and Gamby isn't giving you a hard time, I was hoping to see Mr. Russell, I had to discuss long service leave with him."

"Oh, thank you miss l/n, vice principal Gamby is albeit rude, but I think he's getting better, and of course let me get the door for you."

You knew she wasn't stupid, and you assumed she knew about you and Lee secretly dating, but it was better to come up with an excuse and be safe rather than sorry. Smith quickly opened to door and shut it behind you.

"Well, hello there honey, I was expecting you- and what's this? isn't this a pretty thing?"

He shot up from his desk chair and sauntered over to where you stood, he placed his hands on your waist and whispered in your ear.

"I can't wait to rip that off you gir-"

Suddenly the door swung open, and Lee jumped away from you, 'of course Neal Gamby, you had to come fuck everything up." you thought to yourself, now awkwardly fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Russell. We need to talk. Why the hell are you here Miss. l/n? I thought Wednesday 7th period was your planning lesson."

Before you could reply to Gamby, Lee interjected,

"Exactly, Scram Miss l/n, I don't need nor want you here, I have better shit to do, plus what the fuck are you wearing? you look like a fuckin mess, pick a goddamn colour."

Your heart sank, an uncomfortable tightness sat in your chest as your face flushed in embarrassment. You knew Lee being a dick to you was only a ruse to throw off other teachers and admin but, fuck it hurt, it hurt so much to have him speak to you in that way. You nodded your head and headed to the door,

"Open or closed Mr. Russell?"

Gamby responded for him, responding in a curt 'Closed.' leaving you to silently shut the door behind you. You walked out of the administration office before your eyes welled with tears, but you waited until you reached your classroom until you broke, sobbing quietly at your desk. You just wished you and Lee could act like a couple instead of the cold shoulder act he'd be giving you. With the mixed signals and nausea swirling through your brain, you grabbed your left-over paperwork and bag before leaving. Usually, you and Lee would leave at the same time, but you couldn't bear to see him at the moment, all your hard work, making yourself pretty for him and resulting in him publicly humiliating you was just too much.

The short drive home eased you a little but when you had to walk up those steps of your shared home, it just brought back that sickly tension. You unlocked the door and set your handbag down (another reminder of Lee since it was an anniversary gift). You kicked off your heels and headed upstairs to your shared bedroom. You didn't bother to change and slumped into bed, fresh tears coming to your eyes, you didn't care whether you were quiet or not, sobbing yourself till you couldn't keep your eyes open.

Lee's POV:

He regretted the words as soon as they came from his mouth. He saw the hurt on your face, and he felt his stomach twist into a tight knot. He hated being a dick to you, hated it so much he hated himself for doing it. He realised he went way too far this time with you, and he really didn't want to lose you and couldn't help but fidget with his hands whilst blatantly ignoring whatever bullshit Gamby was bitching about.

"Sorry Gamby but I gotta run, not like you'd know what that is though. We'll talk about Brown tomorrow, now get the fuck outta my office."

Neal sighed, muttered some regurgitated insult but ultimately left. Lee rushed to grab his belongings and ran out the door, Smith tried to ask where he was off to in a rush,

"Sir, you can't just leave! where are you even going???"

When he pulled into the driveway, 'Thank God' he thought as he saw your car parked there. He got out, left all his belongings in the car, not a care. You were more important; you were the most important thing in his life. He opened the door and called;

"Shut the fuck up Smith, I can leave whenever the fuck I want and its none of your business where I am going."

Smith squeaked a reply, but Lee was already down the hall, he went to your classroom and groaned when he noticed a lack of you and your belongings. He ran to the parking lot, got into his car as soon as he didn't saw your car, without a doubt it was always parked next to his. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white, he shakily exhaled, he knew he had fucked up and was hoping you were at home.

"Y/n baby, where are you? I'm so sorry about what I said."

The silence was nerve-racking, so after checking all the other rooms for you, he headed to the bedroom to check. There you were, peaceful and asleep, he couldn't have been happier. He walked across the room to the side to the bed you were facing, and sat gently on the bed, softly stroking your hair.

Your POV:

You slowly awoke out of a dreamless slumber to someone touching you. You flinched when you realised it was Lee, and you remembered everything that happened today. He felt your reaction and immediately pulled his hand away. He saw the tear streaks on your face and sighed,

"Y/n I am so fuckin' sorry; I should have never had said those hurtful things to you, you didn't deserve that, God, I don't deserve you. I didn't even mean them, I need you so much, and you do so much for me, and I take that shit for granted, please forgive me y/n, I love you."

You saw the raw emotion across his face and sat up, you could see the tears in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wipe the one away falling down his cheek with your thumb. You smiled softly and leaned into him,

"I forgive you Lee, and I love you so much. I don't think you meant it but what you said really fucking hurt, and this hiding our relationship is really hurting us, so please can we finally go public and not have to worry and hide anymore?"

"Thank you so much and fuck it! who gives a shit if you and I are together? whoever doesn't like it can suck my dick, I can't lose you honey."

You smiled, finally knowing you'd and Lee would finally be able to be yourselves without having hide and sneak around.

"You aren't losing me Lee; I wouldn't do that to you. Now kiss me, you idiot."

He didn't hesitate a second before crashing his lips into yours, your hands finding his neck before climbing into his lap. His hands sneaked around your waist bringing you even closer, you could feel his erection under you, and you couldn't help moaning into his mouth. He broke the kiss to whisper,

"Well now how about I make do of my promise from earlier?"

The End

I hope this was good! please leave comments or asks if you enjoyed :)

#vice principals #lee russell #neal gamby #walton goggins #cooper howard #lee russell x reader #cooper howard x reader

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