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covenofagatha · 5 days ago

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A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 8)

You struggle after Rio and Agatha disappear from your motel room

Word count: 5500

Warnings: murder, sex, oral, strap-on, sex toys

A/N: thank you to everyone who read this fic and I really hope you guys are satisfied with the ending!

It’s been a month since you’ve last seen them.

It’s been a month since they fled your motel room and left in their respective cars, going somewhere, because they either thought you were serious about catching them, weren’t entirely sure, or for some third reason unknown to you.

You can’t believe they would just leave like that. Leave you like that. After everything, they thought you would just betray them?

Blood had boiled through your veins that night, anger at having come so close to what you think you’ve always wanted, and you had swept through the room in a tornado, throwing flowers and shoving papers off the table and banging on the wall. Tony tried to get you to calm down but you had snarled and he had looked at you like you were a feral, rabid animal.

Maybe you were.

You grabbed your keys and stormed off to your car, leaving Tony to deal with the dead body. Lead foot on the gas pedal, you drove hysterically to Agatha and Rio’s house, pleading and begging and praying that they would be there.

It didn’t even look like they had come back. You turned the place upside down, out of rage, out of fear, out of hurt.

You had sunk to your knees and hadn’t moved from your spot on the floor the entire night until you felt a hand on your shoulder after light was breaking through the windows.

Looking up, a pinch of hope in your heart, you were incredibly dismayed to find that it was only Tony.

“Come on, kid,” he had said. “Let’s get you home.”

You had numbly agreed and two hours later, you were on the jet with him flying back to Miami. He had told the Westview PD that you had gotten far too entangled in the case and that for your own safety, he was pulling you off it. Plus, it seemed that the killers had left Westview.

You couldn’t bring yourself to reveal their identities, even though you knew it wouldn’t be hard for them to piece it together with Agatha and Rio gone too.

When you had landed back in Miami, you had attempted to resume your normal life, but the memories of their mouths against yours and the thrill you felt with them haunted you.

The cases in Miami were boring, even when it was a female killer. It was as if all the colors in the world had faded and everything was just a dull gray now.

Tony made you go to therapy but it didn’t help. And you kind of had trust issues with therapists now.

You would wake up, go to work in a zombie-like state, come home, and sit in the dark until you dozed off, hoping you would wake up to find them standing there.

They never did.

Two weeks after coming back, the bags under your eyes were prominent and you looked racoonish, you were hardly eating because you couldn’t taste it, and you were getting maybe two hours of sleep a night. You spent the nights now pouring over the database, trying to find new cases that could be them in case they were trying to send you a message.

Nothing. The Witch and Lady Death, Agatha and Rio, had completely vanished.

They had brought you into their life, made you remember what you did, made you into a murderer, and then left. You were supposed to be with them right now, wherever they were.

It was funny, you hadn’t been completely sure you wanted to go with them until you couldn’t.

The irony left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Agent, you need to stop all this moping and crying,” Tony had finally snapped at you one day, about three weeks after you’d been back. “They’re gone, they got away, let it go. You’re going to kill yourself if you keep this up.”

You had clenched your jaw, your resentment at him being the reason why you were here coming back with a vengeance. It had dissipated a little, but now it was a roaring fire in your head. “I quit,” you had said, and his mouth had dropped open but you were already putting your badge and your gun on his desk.

It has been a week since that, and you’ve spent it curled up on your couch, staring into space.

There’s a knock on your door and you stumble toward it. The pizza guy is standing on your porch and you take the box and hand him a $20 before slamming the door in his face.

You’re not sure when the last time you’ve actually said a word out loud was.

Maybe since you’ve quit.

You know you’re in a depressive episode, it happens sometimes, but this one feels worse than all the others.

And then the sadness turns to anger and how dare they do this to you. Do they not realize that they’ve completely fucked up your life? Are you ever going to see them again?

When you get to the bargaining point soon after, because apparently you’re going through the five stages of grief, a plan begins to form in your mind.

Their murders brought you to Westview. Maybe you can bring them here.

For the first time, you let yourself go into the suitcase of clothes they gave you. You reach into the small pocket of it and pull out a vial, one you took from their house on the last night when you had torn through their house. One of Agatha’s “potions.”

And you finally feel life starting to seep back into your bones.

Now you just had to figure out who. Could be a random person, it would definitely be easier that way. But you need to draw attention to yourself, need to make sure that they see it.

Your doorbell rings and you shove the vial back into the bag and go see who it is.

It’s Tony. You swing open the door and he breezes past you into your living room.

“Come on in,” you mutter sardonically under your breath, your voice sounding hoarse.

You can hear him scoff and then the curtains are drawn and you wince when you realize just how dark it’s been in here. The sunlight burns you and you take in the mess that your house has become. Plates with half-eaten food and cups still mostly full litter the coffee table and bookshelves, stuff you couldn’t even be bothered to clean.

Tony points to the box of pizza. “Early lunch?”

As if you know what time it is. “Yeah, something like that,” you shrug. Did you order that today? Or was that from yesterday? The day before? It’s all completely blurred together.

“How are you doing?” He asks and you almost snort.

How does it look like you’re doing? “I’m hanging in there,” you say and he forces a smile. There’s an awkwardness between you and the man who used to be a father figure and you know it’s all your fault.

“Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? Pepper’s out of town and it’s just me, so let me cook something for you. I want to make sure you’re eating, I’ve been worried about you,” he admits and it tugs at your heartstrings just a little.

You nod. “Yeah, okay, sure. What time?”

He checks his watch and you can see 11:31 am on it. You could’ve sworn it was some time in the evening. “How about six? I can make some pasta? Chicken alfredo, your favorite, how does that sound?”

“That would be great,” you agree, trying to ignore how much it hurts that he remembers.

“Okay, good,” he says.

A silence stretches between you and you rock back and forth on your feet. “Um, can I bring anything? Dessert or a side or something?”

He smiles for real this time and chokes out a laugh. “How about that crumb cake you used to bring to all the dinners? Remember when Happy ate almost the entire thing and then pretended he hadn’t?”

“Like the crumbs weren’t all over his mouth and his suit,” you finish the story, chuckling. Back when things were simple. “I can whip one up, don’t worry.”

“Excellent. Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight then?” He says and you purse your lips in an attempt to smile. Did you forget how?

“Yeah, thanks,” you confirm and he dips his head before making some excuse about why he has to leave. You lead him to the door and then close it after him, exhaling for a long time.

A random person being killed might not get the attention of Agatha and Rio. But the director of an FBI branch?

That would most likely do the trick.

Now you just need a few more things. It can’t just be a sloppy kill, you need it to be direct, exact. You need it to be so much like their murders, need it to look like The Witch and Lady Death followed you back down to Miami, that they know with one-hundred percent certainty that it was you.

You have the drug. You have a knife that can be used to cut through his flesh. You have some bleach, but you don’t have the hydrofluoric acid for clean-up or a purple azalea.

It will be tough, probably impossible, to get the acid so you drop that. Even if it appears to be a copycat killer, the result will still hopefully be the same.

Or they won’t come and you’ll get arrested.

It’s a risk you’re willing to take.

You go to the grocery store to pick up the things you need for the crumb cake and then stop by a florist to get the flowers. It’s a smaller one, a little further out of town with no cameras, so it will be harder to track down whoever bought the flowers soon to be at a crime scene. When you order a bouquet of purple azaleas, the older lady at the register coos.

“Aw, honey, whoever you’re getting these for must really be a special someone. These are beautiful flowers,” she tells you and you smile wistfully despite yourself.

“Yes, they are,” you agree, talking more about the people being special than the flowers being beautiful, but both are true. The sickly sweet honeysuckle scent has become a pleasant smell to you, whereas before, it made you want to throw up.

She hands the bouquet over to you and you pay in cash. Then you drive back to your house, put the flowers in a vase, and bake the cake.

An hour later, when it’s ready, you take out the vial and douse the top with it. You shouldn’t feel a thrill, shouldn’t feel a burst of adrenaline run through you, but this is the most alive you’ve felt in a month.

You put on a dress, black for the occasion, and do your hair and makeup. It feels like you’re on a death march, walking toward something inevitable that will either make or break you. If it doesn’t work, if it doesn’t bring them back to you, you’re not sure what you’re going to do.

Spend the rest of your life on the run? Rot in prison? Or –

No. You’re not going to think about that, not even going to count that as an option. It’s going to work. It has to.

And then it’s time to go. You wrap up the cake, put a blazer over your dress and slip the knife and a single flower into the pockets, grab cleaning supplies, and get in your car. You’ve been to Tony’s house a few times for FBI Christmas parties and the occasional dinner with Tony, his wife, and a few other colleagues, but you still remember which way to go. It’s complete muscle memory, you don’t even realize that you’re driving until you get there.

Your heart rattles against your ribcage, but not from nerves. It’s from excitement.

God, you’re really fucked in the head, aren’t you? You tell yourself that it’s not because you’re about to kill him, it’s because you’re going to see them soon.

It doesn’t take long for Tony to open the door after you ring the doorbell and your breath is already coming out short and shallow so you have to slow it before he suspects something.

“The cake,” you say, presenting it to him and he rubs his hand together before taking the pan from you. He leads you into the kitchen where you smell the pasta he’s been cooking. It makes your mouth water and for the first time in a month, you actually want to eat.

The dinner is nice; pleasant conversation, good food and wine. He catches you up on some cases the FBI is working on, but there’s no hostility in his voice. You laugh and smile and do whatever is appropriate, just killing time until the main event. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about them, about Agatha and Rio, and your fingers twitch against your leg in anticipation.

Tony goes and gets the cake and your breath stutters in your throat when he unwraps it. “Do you want a piece?” He asks, cutting himself a big one.

“No, I’m pretty full,” you say and he shrugs, accepting it without a fight. You watch him with wide eyes as he takes his first bite and you swallow hard when he goes back for more.

“Mm, this is so good,” he moans with his mouth full and you can’t help but wonder how long the drug takes to work.

You don’t have to wonder much longer, because after the fourth bite, he coughs. You can’t breathe when he sets his fork down and reaches up to loosen his tie. There’s a change on his face and it absolutely delights you.

He slides his chair back and you jump up.

“Is there something in this?” He asks, but he sounds weak, tense. You walk around the table as Tony slides forward out of the chair and onto his knees. You bend down and tilt his chin up with your fingers. He’s struggling to hang on, little gasps slipping out of his mouth, but your eyes gleam as you take in the sight.

The skin on his face tightens, shrivels, and dark lines etch into his face as his cheeks start to hollow out. You’ve got to give it to Agatha, she knows her way around chemicals.

It’s only another minute or two and his body goes limp and slips down to the floor. The heat inside you is back, the ache floods through you, and more than anything, you wish they were there to take care of you.

They will be soon.

You just have to follow through on the rest of it.

Standing up, you stretch your back just a little and then bend back over and grab onto his feet. You’re stronger than you look, but it still takes a good amount of effort to drag him into the living room. Agatha and Rio didn’t seem to stage their crime scenes per se, but no body was ever found in the kitchen, always on the floor of the living room.

You straddle his body, unbutton his shirt, and pull the knife out from your pocket. Taking a deep breath, you hold it over where his heart is, grip the handle with both hands, and plunge.

It goes in easy. Blood oozes out, but honestly, not as much as you thought. You remember reading that once the heart stops, the body doesn’t bleed as much, but since he just died and you’re cutting near the heart, there might be a little.

That must be why Agatha and Rio had a relatively easy clean-up.

You grunt with the exertion, dragging the knife in a circle. It’s harder than it seems to break through the bones of the ribcage, but you’re finally able to reach in and grab it.

Pulling the heart out makes power rush through you and you squeeze it just to know what it feels like. It’s squishy almost, and more blood spurts out.

And then you grimace. What are you supposed to do with it? You could leave it, but then you risk your DNA being found. You could take it with you, but you have no need for a heart.

An idea crosses your mind and while it’s not a great one, it will definitely take care of the problem. You take it back into the kitchen, stuff it into the drain, and put a plastic container over it before turning on the garbage disposal. You have to hold the container with two hands so it doesn't fly off from the sheer force of the disposal destroying the heart.

When you finally stop hearing resistance, you wash the container better than you’ve ever cleaned something before, making sure to get rid of any trace of chunks of heart and blood.

And then you run out to your car to grab the bleach, gloves, and sponges from your car and get to work, scrubbing the floor until there’s nothing left. And then you put the purple flower into the gaping wound of his chest and you’re gone.

When you get back to your house, you call the police and leave an anonymous tip about the sound of a struggle coming from Tony’s address, too impatient to wait for Pepper to come home and find him.

And then you bide your time.

A day passes. You turn on the news to see a special report about the director of the Miami FBI branch being murdered in his own home by seemingly the same killer as one from New Jersey.

Two days. There’s a nationwide manhunt for the killers. You wonder if you’ve made it even more unsafe for them to come get you.

Or maybe they’re just not coming.

Three days.

You’re back on the couch, in a cocoon of blankets, coming to terms that maybe you’re just never going to see them again. You wear the clothes they got you, anything to make you feel like they’re still in your life, and spray their perfume over you and over the blankets and over the pillows until your entire house smells like Thanatos.

On the fourth day, you decide that you need to eat something or you’re going to wither away right there. You trudge your way into the kitchen slowly, a quilt wrapped around your shoulders, and you’re opening the fridge when you hear something.

Your door is opening.

Forcing yourself to calm down, you grab leftover chicken alfredo you took from Tony’s house and turn around. The container slips from your hand when you find Rio and Agatha standing there on the other side of your island.

“Hi,” you breathe, feeling like you could cry tears of relief.

Rio takes out a knife, twirls it between her fingers, and stalks over to you. You step back against the refrigerator and she presses the blade to the center of your clavicle and you should be scared.

But then she leans in and sniffs up your neck like Agatha did in the evidence locker that day and you’re just excited.

The older woman’s eyes watch the two of you carefully and you meet her gaze, seeing the heat in them.

The knife digs into you, piercing your skin, and you can feel blood dripping down. Rio’s eyes dart down and her hazel eyes are dark when they flick back to yours.

“Hey, doll,” she says, voice husky. “We saw your little stunt.”

A smirk pulls at the corners of your lips. “Did you like it?”

Agatha walks over, trailing her fingers on the surface of the island. She invades your space and swipes up the blood from your chest and holds her finger up to your mouth. “We sure did, superstar,” she says and you envelope her finger with your lips, sucking your blood off it.

And then Rio sticks the knife into the waistband of her pants and draws you in for a hot kiss. She moans when she tastes the metallic flavor on your tongue and grips your waist to pull you in even closer to her.

Agatha yanks on your hair, dragging you away from Rio’s mouth with a strand of saliva and then her lips are on your swollen ones, tugging and biting your bottom lip.

While her tongue slides into your mouth, Rio kisses down your neck and over the slight puncture from her knife, soothing the sting.

“I didn’t think you guys would come,” you confess against Agatha.

Rio bites down on your collarbone and it makes you hiss. “We just wanted to make sure you actually wanted this,” she says hotly. Your chest flushes and she takes out the knife again and swiftly cuts through the silky fabric of your shirt.

“I do,” you say, pleading for them to believe you, pouring all the emotions you’ve felt the past month at the thought of losing them into your tone. Rio kisses down your breasts, nipping at you through your bra and it makes you gasp.

Agatha pulls away from you and steps behind Rio, moving her hair and pressing her mouth to the younger woman’s neck. “Poor Rio was so upset to think you would betray us like that,” she purrs and Rio nods, pouting mockingly. “I think you better make it up to her first, show her how much you want this.”

The double meaning is clear and you are only too eager. You flip her around so her back is against the fridge, maybe a little more rougher than you need to be, and sink to your knees in front of her.

You fumble with the waistband of her pants and she tips your chin up with her knife, reminding you of the night she did that with her gun.

“Do a good job and we’ll reward you,” she says.

Your hands finally drag her pants and underwear down and you smirk. “Ask your wife if she thinks I did a good job last time,” you retort and Agatha chuckles darkly from behind you and grips your hair before shoving your face into Rio’s dripping pussy.

Rio gasps and Agatha holds you in place while you flatten your tongue and drag it through Rio’s folds. Her hips jerk on your face and you look up through your eyelashes to watch Agatha kiss her wife.

Her scent invades your nose and her flavor fills your tastebuds and you moan, losing yourself in her. You lick around her clit until she’s practically shaking and she has to wrap an arm around Agatha’s shoulders to stay balanced.

When you finally give in and suck on her clit, Rio keens and you can feel her growing even wetter on your chin. You see Agatha grip Rio’s throat and the sight makes you groan from how hot it is. You can hear Rio’s messy breathing as she starts to rut her hips against your face and you pick up the intensity, lapping harder at her cunt.

Your jaw starts to hurt but you don’t dare stop because when you dip your tongue inside and curl it up, licking up against her walls, she clenches and the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard fall out of her mouth.

“I’m close,” she pants and Agatha, still sliding her lips against her wife’s, reaches down to rub Rio’s clit, her finger bumping against your nose while you keep thrusting your tongue inside Rio.

Rio’s getting tighter around you and her breaths are more constricted until she finally lets out a loud moan and her whole body jerks and her walls clamp around your tongue as she rides out her orgasm.

Agatha steps back so you’re able to rest back on your heels and you smile up blissfully at them, the entire bottom of your face soaked.

“Did I do a good job?” You simper and Rio’s hand grips into your hair and pulls you up. It stings but it only makes you more turned on.

Rio cleans your face with her mouth, taking extra care to suck on your lips. She nips and you breathe out sharply. “You did acceptable,” she says haughtily and you grin.

“Let’s go, superstar,” Agatha says, leaning in to kiss you and then Rio, wanting to taste her wife. “Where’s your bedroom?”

You point down the hall and you follow them to it. You can feel the pool between your legs and each step puts the tiniest bit of pressure on your clit, making you squirm while you walk.

“Please,” you whisper. They seemingly ignore you and tell you to sit on your bed while they root through your room, maybe looking for a wire or a camera or something.

But then Rio chuckles when she opens your nightstand drawer and you know what she’s found. “Look, Aggie,” she says, holding up some of your sex toys that you keep in there. It’s been far too long since you’ve used any of them and you clench involuntarily around nothing.

Agatha walks over and pulls out a harness and a dildo and shows them to you. “Do you want me to fuck you with this, pet?” She asks and you nod eagerly, practically drooling.

“Agatha,” Rio says in a hush, holding up another toy, a small egg vibrator and a remote. When she thumbs at the dial on the side, it turns on in her hand. “Wear this so I can control it while you’re fucking her?”

You let out a filthy moan at the question and the older women laugh. “Seems like we got our answer,” Agatha says, making quick work of pants and underwear. You shrug off the tatters of your cut shirt and quickly take yours off too, the cold air on your sopping pussy making you shiver.

Rio kneels down and kisses Agatha’s thighs and then mouths at Agatha’s cunt for a few seconds, before sliding the toy into her. Agatha lets out a small groan and your jaw drops open. You might cum the second you feel her skin on you.

The electricity is back, for the first time in forever, and it races under your skin, lighting your entire body up. You’re hungry, so hungry for more, and Agatha steps into the harness and Rio helps her fasten the dildo into it.

Agatha climbs onto the bed and you scramble back to lay against the pillows, legs propping up and spreading.

“So eager,” Agatha tuts, positioning herself and rubbing the dildo against your entrance, coating the toy with your wetness. She drags it up and down and presses against your clit until you’re sweating under her, your hands coming up to hold onto her hips.

She pushes the tip into you and your walls bear down around it, clenching and trying to drag it in. Agatha chuckles at your desperate state, but it quickly turns into a moan when Rio turns the dial on the control and she jerks forward violently, pushing the toy all the way inside you in one motion.

Your head drops back and your back arches, forcing your hips up even more so you can somehow feel her deeper. “Fuck,” you curse, the fullness exactly what you need to satiate the ache inside you.

Agatha takes a deep breath, fingers digging in tightly to the bed next to you, when Rio turns up the vibrations.

“Pet,” Agatha says in a low voice, slowly starting to shallowly thrust inside you like it would hurt her to pull out more. You sharply inhale when she curves into the spongy spot each time and your heart is beating so fast you think it might explode. It feels so good already that tears are pricking in your eyes and Agatha leans down to capture your lips as she picks up the speed.��

The vibrations from the toy inside her are so strong that it’s affecting the dildo inside you and you’re reduced to a moaning mess. You tilt your head and through your hazy vision and the fog settling in your head, you can see Rio with a hand between her legs, watching you get fucked by her wife.

“I wanted you guys to come back so badly,” you practically sob, hips rising to meet each one of her thrusts, each motion of the cock in and out of your body rubbing against your clit and making you gasp.

Agatha chuckles breathlessly above you, the exertion causing a slight sheen of sweat to perspire on her forehead. Her cheeks are red and she tosses her hair over her shoulder so she can see you better. She’s biting on her red lip as she takes you in. “We know, superstar. We missed you, too. But we’re never letting you go now.”

“Good,” you say and you pull her down for a kiss. Her thrusts are getting sloppy now, losing rhythm and her hips stuttering, but you don’t care because you’re already so close.

And so is she, by the looks of it. Her cock fills you perfectly, and you can feel the veins on the toy dragging against your walls, and she’s panting into your open mouth, both of you exchanging hot air between the two of you. Your senses are heightened, on fire even, and you’re on the edge, tingles, fireworks, spreading through your body. You’ve never felt this alive in your life and you crave more before you’re even done right now.

And then she puts a hand around your throat and it’s like all the air from your lungs dissipates. She squeezes lightly and you moan explicitly, feeling like a livewire is running through you.

“Agatha,” you whine.

She huffs and somehow speeds up, and she lets out broken whimpers when Rio turns the vibrator up even more. “Cum for me, pet, cum with me,” she says and presses on your throat to constrict your airway ever the slightest and you do.

You slur incoherent words while you orgasm, the dam inside you breaking and pleasure floods through you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Agatha slumps on top of you, her hips convulsing inside you involuntarily as she rides out hers too.

She lays there for a minute or two, your walls twitching around her. And then she pulls out and flops on the bed next to you. Rio comes over and gingerly takes the strap-on off Agatha and pulls the toy out of her.

“You both okay?” Rio jokes and you both nod, thoroughly worn out.

“What now?” You ask and the two of them look at each other. You cannot survive them walking away from you again.

Agatha props herself up on an elbow and brushes a sweaty hair off your forehead. “What do you want, superstar?”

“You two.”

Rio chuckles. “Good, because if you didn’t say that, we brought gasoline and we were going to set your house on fire.”

You gape at her and look back and forth between Agatha and Rio. “For real?” They both nod solemnly, although you can see Agatha trying not to smile. The wheels in your head turn. A fire started this whole thing, fifteen years ago. Maybe it makes sense that fire is what ends it. “Do it,” you tell them.

“Excuse me?” Rio says, clearly taken aback.

“Set my house on fire, make it look like I’m dead. I have the azaleas downstairs, we can scatter them outside and make it look like The Witch and Lady Death killed me. My death is faked and we go off the grid. It makes sense. You guys followed me from New Jersey, took out my boss, and now you took me out, too. The last two connections to your case.”

It’s a good plan, even they have to admit it.

So Agatha goes and gets the gas while you pack up a small bag of things. You leave Rio’s knife and the empty vial from the drug in the living room so it looks like The Witch and Lady Death burned in the fire too.

You douse the kitchen and trail it to the front door so you have an easy escape. Rio hands you the matchbox, and it makes the same sound it made when you strike the match on it as the last time. You take a deep breath, look at them, and they nod.

You flick it and a brilliant blaze of fire erupts, quickly spreading through the whole house.

And you don’t even look back on your way to their car, the three of you sliding into it.

Agatha pulls out of the driveway and you smile to yourself.

You don’t know where you’re going or what will happen, but you’re with them now, so everything is going to be okay.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario #agathario x reader #rio vidal x agatha harkness #rio x reader #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal

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puckinghischier · 6 months ago

Text

Choices

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack proves that he will always choose reader, no matter what anyone has to say

notes: so, the first part of this is literally my favorite thing i’ve ever written. the ending? meh. i don’t hate it, but i definitely think it could have been done better, i just struggle so hard with endings 😭. i also lowkey don’t like the title, but literally couldn’t think of a different one. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

can be read as a part 2 to this fic, but can also be read by itself

request: Could you write something with Jack getting defensive/choosing her? Maybe he gets cornered by an ex flame or someone about what makes reader so special to get him to commit to a serious relationship when he didn't with her

[6.7k]

“Are you sure I don’t need to dress up tonight? I know you said they’re just some old family friends, but I want to make a good impression,” you question Jack, standing in front of the full-length mirror propped against the wall.

You’re wearing a pale, yellow sundress with daisies imprinted all across the fabric. Jack insisted the Lawsons were just old friends of the family, having owned the house down the street since he was just a kid.

Since meeting Jack’s family last year, you’ve been his plus one to every single trip he’s made home. At thanksgiving he brought you home for a quick, two day trip to meet his grandparents and a few pairs of aunts and uncles, before having to fly out again because of his game schedule. Around Christmas the two of you split your time, spending the actual holiday with your family, then flying to meet Jack’s family for New Year’s activities, where you met several cousins and old school friends of Jack’s.

This year, you’re celebrating the Fourth of July in Michigan, finally getting to experience the infamous Hughes lake house. Jack was able to convince you to spend an entire month here at the large house, telling you the trip was for the Fourth festivities, but suggesting you leave a few weeks beforehand, wanting you to get the full lake house experience.

You had spent your days switching between joining his family on the large pontoon boat sitting at the end of their dock and going out on adventures with Jack alone on the pair of Jet skis Quinn had bought after his first paycheck came in during his rookie year. A few nights a week, Jack would tell you to put on something nice, showing you around the small town a few miles away from the house, taking you to each of his favorite childhood spots for dinner.

One night he had told you to put on the nicest dress you brought, then proceeded to take you to an old, beach themed bar. He sat across from you at the high top table in a collared shirt and khakis, the rest of the patrons around you in their bathing suit cover ups or shorts and t-shirts.

You scolded him, telling him you two looked like fools in there, all dressed up to eat fried seafood. He laughed, telling you the only fool in the room was him, because he was “foolishly and wholly in love with you.” You rolled your eyes at his mushy-ness, a blush making its way to your cheeks at the same time.

That memory, however, is the reason you no longer trust Jack when he tells you to either dress up or dress down for dinners. Including tonight.

“I promise, you don’t have to dress up. You could wear your bathing suit for all I care,” he calls out from the bathroom where he’s ‘fixing’ his hair, which usually means brushing it and then ruffling it around with his hands. “I mean, mom might not be too happy if you’re sitting at the dinner table in just a bikini, but I’d sure enjoy the show.”

You scoff at his words, turning to go and stand in the doorway of the ensuite, crossing your arms.

“I’m being serious, J. I want to make a good impression on these people. They’re really good friends of your parents. Your mom was telling me how you all used to spend almost the entire summer together, constantly over at one another’s houses for dinner and fire talks,” you remember how excited Ellen was to be having her friends over for dinner tonight, claiming she hadn’t seen them in years because of how busy their lives had gotten.

Ellen also mentioned they had a daughter around your and Jack’s age who was in with her parents for the summer. Her name is Sarah and she’s a department director of some big advertisement company in New York. She stopped coming around as often around the same time Jack got drafted to the Devils, according to Ellen. Her job being too demanding for her to make the trip every summer.

You were excited to meet yet another person that knew Jack as a kid. You were hoping to rope a few stories out of her over the course of dinner, wanting to know as much as you can about Jack’s childhood from those around him. Sometimes you really hate the fact that you haven’t known Jack his whole life. You count yourself one of the luckiest people alive to be able to share his life with him now, but you’re always picturing him growing up, wanting to know every detail of what makes Jack, Jack.

Quinn and Luke are always eager to tell you anything you want to know about Jack, from the time he wanted to be “TP man” for Halloween and proceeded to wrap his entire body in toilet paper, wearing the empty rolls on his hands, to the time he wanted to ask his eighth-grade crush out on a date, but instead blurted out that he had to go home to massage their dad’s feet.

You always enjoyed hearing stories about him from people that weren’t his mischievous brothers, though. Like when his grandma told you about the time she got home to see that Jack had rearranged her kitchen cabinets, placing everything he saw her use on a regular basis closer to where she could reach it after watching her drop her favorite mug while trying to put it away on the second highest shelf that morning. Or when his best friend from high school told you about the time Jack gave him a ride home from practice, stopping in to say hello to his parents when Jack heard his little sister crying in her room because she couldn’t figure out her math homework. Jack stayed over for nearly two hours to help the little girl with her multiplication table and gave her words of encouragement the entire time.

You knew Jack was someone special, his calming energy easing your nerves from the first time you ever spoke to him. Hearing the stories that confirm he’s been this way his whole life, from the people that have known him far longer than you, though, makes you burst with so much love for the man you think your heart might actually explode one day.

“And I’m being serious, Sunshine, what you’re wearing is fine and won’t change the fact that they’re going to absolutely love you, just like everyone else does,” Jack walks over to stand in front of you.

You uncross your arms, letting them fall to your sides. Jack reaches down and takes each one of your hands into his, stepping forward slightly.

“I just…I care about how the people that know you view me. It’s important to me that the people important to you know that I love you, not that I’m just trying to ride on the back of some hot shot hockey player,” you whisper, referencing a blog post you were sent by one of your coworkers back in Jersey, asking if the girl in the picture was, in fact, you sitting on Jack’s lap in a crowded bar you went to for a post-game celebration.

The post talked about how you had been seen with Jack at a few games and were seen leaving several bars with him over the course of a few weeks early into your relationship. The blog site was a silly, hockey gossip blog, more concerned about who the players were sleeping with than any of the games themselves, but the accusation made your heart sink nonetheless. You knew you were with Jack for no reason other than you love him and he makes you feel safe, comfortable, and loved. Jack knows you’re not with him for his money, and anyone close to him knows you’re not with him for his money or fame.

He could quit hockey tomorrow and it wouldn’t change even an ounce of your feelings towards him. With or without hockey, he’s still your Jack. The Jack that makes you honey lavender tea every night because he knows it helps you sleep. The Jack that somehow manages to bring you flowers after every home game, no matter how late it is. The Jack that insisted you move in with him after your lease ended because his apartment is closer to your new job, but really because he was tired of not coming home to you every night. The Jack that showed up to your graduation this spring, bringing nearly his whole team and his family, the group cheering so loud when you walked across the stage everyone in attendance laughed, the person handing you your diploma commenting “sounds like you have a few fans out there.”

Even though you know that Jack knows, and his family knows, each time you meet someone new from his life, you feel the need to prove yourself. It’s part of the reason you were so anxious to meet his parents all those months ago. You worry that each person you meet has seen or read an article like the one you were sent. You worry they’ll think you’re not right for Jack, or that you’re only with him to get a taste of the popularity and lifestyle that comes along with his job. All you want is to show them how much you love him for him, and how you never want to leave his side.

Jack looks down at you, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth, pulling them together and kissing your knuckles.

“I promise you, no one here thinks that,” he starts, his words oozing with sincerity. “There is not a single person that matters to me in my life more than you. And absolutely no one’s opinion of you matters to me other than your own. Do you think you’re with me for the wrong reasons?” He asks you, waiting for you to answer him.

You shake your head no, breaking his eye contact.

“Hey, look at me,” he squeezes your hands that are still resting near his mouth, bringing your eyes back to his. “Then absolutely nothing else matters, okay? I know who you are, and you know who you are. Last time I checked, we’re the only two in this relationship, so that’s the only two people I’ll ever be looking to for opinions concerning my choices in this relationship, got it?”

You nod, a little embarrassed you were ever worried in the first place after his small speech, but still needing the hear his words nonetheless.

You’re still looking up at him, opening your mouth to tell him how much you love him when your stomach growls between the two of you, loud enough you nearly jump back.

Jack’s eyes flicker down to your stomach and back up to your eyes, the amusement in them making the blue shade shine even brighter.

“On that note, let’s go get you something to eat,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead before dropping one of your hands, the other still intwined with yours, pulling you out of the room behind him.

Jack led you down to the kitchen, digging around in the fridge to sneak you a snack before everyone sat down for dinner, knowing the meal wouldn’t be ready for at least another hour.

After he was satisfied that you weren’t going to starve, thanks to the small bowl of fruit he found, the two of you walked out to the back deck, joining everyone else.

The Lawsons had already arrived, Jim and Ellen standing on the other side of the large deck, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Lawson separately.

Mrs. Lawson is a short, slim woman. Her hair is flawlessly styled into a ‘looks lazy but really took an hour’ up do, wearing a light purple, short sleeve pleated dress that fell just above her ankles, a simple pair of sandals on her feet.

Her husband is a tall man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a matching polo shirt and khaki shorts, a pair of Hey Dude brand shoes on his feet.

As soon as the two of you walked out onto the porch, Ellen was immediately halting her conversation to introduce you to the guests.

“Oh! There they are! Aren’t they just dolls? Look at them!” she gushed, walking over to greet the two of you.

You smile warmly at her, your relationship with Jack’s mom almost as dear to you as your relationship with your own. The two of you were able to sit and talk with one another during the hockey game her and Jim had come into town for the first time you met them. You both were invested in the game itself, considering all three Hughes boys were on the ice that night, but the intermissions were full of conversations and stories. You left the rink that night feeling like you had gained another mother, exchanging numbers with Ellen and promising to keep in touch. You now have weekly phone calls with Ellen, her interest in your life and well being matching that of her interest in her son’s.

“Mom, we literally saw you an hour ago on the boat, calm down,” Jack tells her, earning soft smack to his chest from you.

“Don’t be a grump, Jack. She’s telling us how good we look and you choose now to suddenly act like you don’t love being told you look pretty,” you scold.

Jack looks down at you with his mouth slightly open, putting on his best fake offended face.

“See, I told you she keeps him in check for me. Now I don’t have to carry the burden all by myself anymore,” Ellen tells Mrs. Lawson, earning a laugh from the woman standing just behind her.

You and Jack continue to have a small stare down until he conceded, choosing to flash a smile at you instead, sticking his tongue out like a child and earning a small giggle from you.

“Y/N, this is Deborah, but we all call her Deb. Deb, this is Y/N, my new baby girl,” Ellen breaks up yours and Jack’s moment, introducing you to Mrs. Lawson.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Lawson,” you say, removing your hand from Jack’s so you could step forward and give a small, greeting hug to the woman in front of you.

“Oh honey, Mrs. Lawson was my mother-in-law, please, call me Deb,” she tells you as she pulls back from the hug.

“Okay, Deb is it,” you laugh, stepping back beside Jack.

“C’mere, I need a hug from you too, Jack,” she motions Jack over to her, your boyfriend walking over to give her a slightly longer hug than you shared with her. “My, you’ve grown up, haven’t you? Last time I saw you, you were just getting ready to declare yourself draft eligible. Now look at you, the real deal.”

Jack blushes as he steps back towards you, knowing how shy he gets when complimented.

He may be cocky on the ice and in interviews, but you’ve learned that when it comes to the people that are close to him, Jack is extremely humble. He turns a light shade of pink any time you compliment how well he played after a game, or when his mom calls to tell him she watched his game on tv and cheered so loud she woke their cat up anytime he scored a goal.

“Just enjoy playing the game, is all,” he slips his hand back into yours. You give it a light squeeze.

“Ron, quit talking golf and get over here! Come say hi to Jack and his girlfriend!” Deb turns and shouts to her husband behind her. Both Mr. Lawson and Jim leave their spot by the heating grill and walk over to join your small group.

“Jack, how are ya, boy?” Mr. Lawson walks up, pulling Jack from your hold, bringing him in by his arm for what you call a ‘guy’ hug, each having one arm slug over the other’s shoulders, their clasped hands trapped between their chests.

“Getting by alright. Happy to have a bit of a break. Couldn’t wait to show Y/N here the ways of the lake house,” Jack motions to where you stand slightly behind him.

“Oh gosh, where are my manners. Hi, sweetheart, I’m Ron,” Mr. Lawson sticks his hand out towards you, shaking it softly.

“Hi, Jack’s told me a lot about you two. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lawson” you reference both of the Lawsons, repeating part of your greeting to Deb.

“Oh, no, Mr. Lawson is my father, I’m just Ron, dear,” he mirrors his wife’s earlier statement, stepping over to place his arm around her waist.

You chat with the couple a bit longer, noticing after a few minutes that Quinn and Luke are nowhere to be found. Neither was their daughter Ellen had mentioned earlier.

“Not to interrupt, but where are Quinn and Luke?” you ask just as Ellen finishes telling Ron and Deb about a recent cruise her and Jim had been on.

“Oh, they took Sarah out for a spin on the boat before dinner. She said she missed the water, so away they went,” Deb explains, looking over to Jack. “She’s so excited to see you again, Jack. She always talks about wanting to get across the bridge to see a game, but you know her, a workaholic and all.”

You sense a slight rigidness in Jack’s body language at the mention of Sarah. He responds with a simple “Yeah, that’s a shame,” not offering any other words about the mystery girl.

You were confused. You had thought Ellen said the boys were friends with Sarah growing up. Why did Jack tense up when she was mentioned? Had there been some sort of falling out? Was he not excited to see her? He hadn’t mentioned anything when you brought her up earlier, causing you to assume he just didn’t know much about her, having lost contact after they both were busy and didn’t have as much time to spend at the lake anymore.

As soon as Jack had finished speaking, you heard loud laughter coming from the long deck at the end of the house’s yard, seeing three figures quickly approaching the porch you were standing on.

“See, told you I could still beat you, just like when I was a kid!” you hear an unfamiliar voice call out, footsteps coming up the wooden stairs leading to the porch.

“Not fair, you didn’t tell me it was a race until you were already at the end of the deck,” you recognize the voice this time, Luke uttering his words between fast breaths.

As you look towards the stairs, you see one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen in your life step onto the porch.

She had jet black hair that fell to her mid back, perfectly pin straight. She had the greenest eyes you think you’d ever seen, and her tan skin was a shade that people usually had to be photoshopped to achieve. She was wearing a sundress similar to yours, but hers was a baby blue color, complementing her skin tone and hair perfectly. It fell right at her mid-thigh, and had a floral print running across the fabric.

“Hey, everyone. Hope we didn’t miss dinner,” she said, waltzing over to the wet bar to grab a bottle of water as Luke and Quinn make their way up the stairs, coming to stand a few feet from you and Jack.

“Oh, not even close, honey. You’re just in time. Your dad and Jim were just about to put the chicken on the grill,” Deb tells her daughter, beaming at her.

She walks over to join everyone, not stopping until she’s stood right in front of Jack.

“Oh, Jacky! I’ve missed you so much! It’s been so long!” she wraps him in a hug. His arms stay pinned to his sides, his body going rigid with discomfort. You notice the looks from Quinn and Luke, confused at their wide eyes.

He coughs, causing her to detach herself from his body, but not removing her hand from his shoulders.

“Well, that hockey training sure has been good to you, hasn’t it Jacky,” she continues, squeezing his biceps with a smirk before dropping her hands, completely ignoring you.

The second her hands leave his body, Jack is stepping back over to you, placing his hand on your waist.

“Uhh, Sarah, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, Sarah,” Jack says, squeezing you to his side.

“Oh! You’re the new girlfriend my mom was telling me about. How sweet!” she coos, placing her hand on her chest. “Jack, she’s so pretty. But, what happened to Macey? You know, the one with the pretty blonde hair? Oh, and the absolute insane body. Seriously, I need her personal trainer’s number,” she asks, looking around at everyone.

You think about your brunette hair and know exactly what she’s trying to do.

“Not in the picture anymore. Didn’t really like the fact that she kept sticking her tongue down some Philly player’s throat when she came to visit me during an away game,” Jack spat out, grinding his teeth.

“What a shame. I liked her,” Sarah waved it off, making a small pout with her lips. “But, I’m sure you’re great too!” she added as an after thought, flashing the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

You feel a presence step up behind you, Quinn slyly whispering “ex-girlfriend” in your ear, suddenly making Jack’s body language and her backhanded warmth towards you make sense.

“Okay, well, time to go get the food on the grill. Food will be ready in around thirty,” Jim claps his hands together, sensing the need to break up the awkward moment.

“Oh great, I’m absolutely starving,” Sarah exaggerates her last word, turning and walking towards the sliding glass door leading to the kitchen.

You stand there, not knowing how to process what just happened, Jack’s grip on you as tight as ever. You look over to Ellen, who gives you a sympathetic look.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Deb sighs and shakes her head in amusement, completely oblivious to her daughter’s fake niceness and obvious flirting with Jack. “She’s something else, isn’t she? Such a little firecracker,” she reflects, nothing but adoration in her tone and on her face.

“Yeah, one that backfires into the innocent bystanders,” Quinn mumbles under his breath, earning a snort from Luke. Ellen shoots them a glare, darting her eyes towards Deb to see if she heard, but the older woman was still staring adoringly at her daughter in the kitchen through the glass doors.

Thirty minutes later, just like Jim announced, everyone was sat at the large outdoor table, food covering the large surface.

The food was amazing, the bowl of fruit from earlier long gone as you sat down to fill your plate, wanting seconds of almost everything.

“Jack, will you hand me the potato salad, I swear, I can’t get enough of it,” you ask your boyfriend who’s sitting to your right.

He reaches over and grabs the bowl, scooping a spoonful on to your plate for you. “That good? Or you want more?”

“No, that’s good. Gotta save room for dessert,” you tell him, picking up your fork to dig in.

Jack places his hand on your thigh, smiling over at the little happy dance you do when you scoop the potato salad into your mouth.

“Oh, I’m so full,” you hear Sarah say, raising her voice to make sure the whole table hears her. “I wish I could be like you, Y/N, I’d love to have seconds, but I just cannot hold another bite, I’m already so bloated as it is,” she places her hands over her stomach to emphasize. “You’re so lucky you’ve already snagged a man and don’t have to worry about watching what you eat anymore.”

You stop mid-chew, her words sinking in.

You look around the table, everyone looking at you. Deb and Ron are smiling at you, not at all reacting to their daughter’s words, likely not even understanding the connotation of what she just said. Ellen and Jim are looking at Sarah, their eyebrows raised in shock. Quinn is glaring at her while Luke’s mouth is dropped open.

Jack’s hand is digging into your thigh, his other hand closed, clenches in a tight fist on the tablet next to his glass of water.

You finish chewing your food and swallow thickly, placing your fork down and sliding your plate away from you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my account. I’d kill to be able to be as comfortable as you are. Not having to worry about impressing anyone anymore, just being able to know you’re loved, no matter what you look like,” she continues, taking a sip of her water to hide her smirk.

You bow your head, your face a shade of red you can physically feel, refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

Luke coughs, a faint “bitch” heard by your ears.

“Okay, I think it’s time we clear the table for dessert, shall we,” Ellen pipes up, her own smile strained.

“Great idea, let me help you,” Deb, either still oblivious or intentionally ignoring the hurtful nature of her daughter’s words, starts to stand.

“No, I got it,” Jack surprises you by standing, taking everyone’s plates and quickly stomping off of the porch.

You could feel the anger radiating off of him when Sarah was talking, probably choosing to leave the area before he said something he would regret.

“Here, let me help, too,” Sarah stands, taking a few food dishes in her hands and stepping inside behind Jack before anyone could protest.

The table is silent after she leaves. You sit there, debating on just sliding out of your seat and under the table, wanting to hide. Luke, who was sitting next to you, brings his hand over to rest on your shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

You look over at him to see a concerned look as he mouths a silent “You okay?”, nodding your head yes, despite the heavy feeling in your stomach.

You look up again, straight at Sarah’s parents, wondering how they can be so ignorant about their daughter’s malicious words.

You meet Ellen’s eye, seeing a sad, pleading look, begging you to forgive her with her expression. You give her a small smile, shaking your head to tell her it’s alright.

Ron is the one to finally break the silence, looking around at everyone with a genuine smile, once again proving your suspicion they’re unaware of the shift in atmosphere.

“Ellen, please tell me you made your famous cheesecake. It’s been too long since I’ve had a slice,” he speaks, unable to read the room.

Ellen partakes in empty small talk with Deb and Ron about how she makes her cheesecake when you decided you need to go check on Jack.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go help Jack,” you say flatly, standing from your seat and all but running inside, the urge to walk over and shake the Lawsons while shouting “your daughter’s a bitch!” in their face your cue to leave the table.

You enter the kitchen, seeing the dishes both Sarah and Jack brought in littering the counter, but neither one of them was to be found in the spacious area.

You walk through the house, calling out Jack’s name softly as you pass the stairs, making your way to the small sitting room at the front of the house.

“Jack, I don’t get it. What does she have that I don’t? What about her makes her any better than me?” you hear the sound of Sarah’s voice coming from the foyer.

“What the hell do you mean? Everything! She has everything you don’t!” you hear Jack exclaim, stopping in your tracks.

Were they talking about you?

“Jack, we were good together! We had fun. I don’t understand why you ended things between us. Hell, I took a job in New York because you said you were probably going to New Jersey to play. We could have been the new it couple of New Jersey!” it was Sarah’s turn to raise her voice.

Jack shakes his head, a dry laugh making its way out of his mouth. “What part of I didn’t want to don’t you understand?” Jack spits out. “You had fun. You chose to move to New York. You thought were good together. There was never any we in any of that.”

You can practically see the veins popping out on Jack’s forehead through his tone, even though they were out of view.

“All you ever cared about when we were together was the fact that I was about to play professional hockey. You didn’t care about me, you just cared about what I could offer you!” he shouts again. “The fact you just admitted you cared more about being the “it” couple more than you cared about wanting to be with me proves it.”

“Well, sue me for wanting to live the life of the rich and famous,” Sarah says, scoffing.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jack huffs out. “Y/N doesn’t care about living the life of the rich and famous. She just wants me. She wants Jack, not ‘Jack Hughes, star forward, number one overall draft pick’,” he puts on his announcer voice.

“All my life, people have only ever cared about how well I played hockey. Every coach, every teammate, every girl. They all saw me as a hockey player. They wanted me on their team, or in their bed, because they wanted what came with me: attention and popularity,” Your heart breaks at Jack’s voice, never having heard him sound so deflated before.

“Hell, you introduced me to people as a future professional hockey player before you ever introduced me to them as your boyfriend,” he continues. “With Y/N, that’s far from the most interesting thing about me. When she first introduced me to her family, she told them I was her best friend’s brother,” he refers back to the first time you took him home to meet your family, the subject of hockey not coming up until your dad asked if he liked sports, only to berate him for not being a football player. Later that night he asked him how hockey worked. Your dad has never missed a Devils game since, either in person or on tv.

“Her favorite fun fact to tell people about me isn’t a stat, or how many hat tricks I’ve scored,” he keeps going. “It’s that I love to sing Shakira when I’m in the shower. Or that I’m the only other person other than her dad that has ever made her laugh so hard water has come out of her nose,” Jack lightly laughs.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay-“ you hear Quinn’s voice rounding the corner.

Cutting him off with a “shhh” you place your finger on your mouth to tell him, and Luke who trails behind him, to be quiet, pointing to the sitting room where Jack and Sarah are arguing.

“So, yeah, I would say I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of me, but I’m not. I’m not sorry that I broke things off with you. I’m not sorry that I found someone that actually loves me for who I am. And I’m not sorry that I brought the woman that I plan on marrying here with me, and you just so happened to be here too,” Jack tells her, his voice still holding a slight trace of anger.

“I am sorry that I never told my parents what really went down between us, telling them we just agreed it would be too hard and we needed to go back to being friends, because maybe they wouldn’t have invited you over tonight. I am sorry that I didn’t take Y/N out for dinner, trying to avoid what’s happening right now. I am sorry that you can’t begin to fathom someone can see through your forced smiles and backhanded comments, seeing how cold and rotten you really are on the inside. And I am sorry that your poor, sweet parents were given such a malicious bitch as a daughter,” He finishes.

“You know, my mom said Ellen told her you showed her a ring, but I thought it was just a gift. You’re really going to propose to her?” Sarah asks, annoyance clear in her voice, spitting out her last word with unmistakeable disgust.

“Of course it’s true. Bought the ring months ago, been carrying it around with me every since. Showed mom the night she met her, told her I was serious about her and that she’s the one. I think part of me knew that from the moment I met her,” you hear Jack say, hearing the tenderness in his voice when the subject turns to you.

Your head whips over to Luke and Quinn, your eyes wide and your mouth handing open. The panicked look on their faces is all the confirmation you need to know that you heard Jack right. He bought you a ring. He bought you a ring and showed his mom. He bought you a ring and showed his mom and was going to propose to you.

Before you know what you’re doing, your body is leading you to the entryway where your boyfriend is arguing with his ex-girlfriend.

“Y/N, no, wait,” Quinn tries to stop you, but it’s too late.

“You bought me a ring?” you ask as you enter the room, seeing Jack and Sarah standing several feet apart from each other.

“Oh, great, the woman of the hour,” Sarah rolls her eyes at you, throwing her arms up and letting them fall to her side.

You shoot her a glare, not at all concerned about her comments from earlier anymore.

You turn your head to Jack, who’s face looked as panicked at Luke and Quinn’s.

“Jack, you said you bought me a ring. Is that true?” you ask him, begging him to answer you.

Jack gulps, nodding his head yes.

“Right…” is all you can say, trying to digest what’s happening.

You look back and forth between Jack and Sarah, your gaze finally landing on the unimpressed one of Sarah.

“Listen, I don’t care what happened between you and Jack however many years ago, but I don’t appreciate you coming to his family’s house and acting like a nasty bitch to me because you got dumped and I’m the one getting the ring,” you tell her, earning a shocked scoff from her. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you took your nasty attitude and sad insecurities out of this house and elsewhere. I have something I need to discuss with the man that chose me .”

You hear the faint snorts of Quinn and Luke behind you, while Jack’s face moves from panicked to shocked as he looks between the two of you.

“God, you don’t have to ask me twice. All of this melodrama is giving me a headache. You’re not worth this. I can get any guy from the Knicks roster, I don’t need to waste my time on hockey players anymore,” Sarah says before she storms out of the room.

You watch her go, giving her a sweet smile and a wave on her way out.

“That was…the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Jack tells you, walking over to where you stood.

You roll your eyes at him, hitting him in the chest once he gets close enough to you.

“Ow! What was that for?” Jack asks you, rubbing where you thumped him

“For not telling me that Sarah was your ex-girlfriend when I was telling you how excited I was to meet her earlier” you exclaim while looking up at him, poking him in the chest with each word

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had anything to be worried about and get even more in your head about this dinner,” he tells you, grabbing your finger and pushing your hand down to your side.

“Yeah, well a lot of good that did,” you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to softly smack his chest again.

“God, woman, stop hitting me!” Jack yelps again. “What the hell was that one for?”

“For buying me a ring only a few months into our relationship! And then for not telling me you were going to propose, you idiot!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this or not, but most proposals are usually a surprise,” he tells you, grabbing your arms and holding them apart, preventing you from hitting him again.

“Still. Why would you buy it so soon into us dating, Jack? What if you ended up hating me once we hit six months, or you found out I snored and decided you didn’t want to share a bed with me for the rest of your life?” you ask him, earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

“I knew that you were it from the moment I met you. There’s absolutely no chance of me ever getting sick of you, or hating you,” Jack tells you honestly, the intensity behind his eyes causing you to believe his words. “Also, you do snore, and I think it’s cute, don’t worry.”

You try to hit his chest again, but your arms are still being held by his hands.

“So, is this a good time for me to say I never really liked Sarah,” Luke chimes in, reminding you that him and Quinn are standing in the entrance of the room.

“Luke, you’re such an idiot,” Quinn tells him, flicking him on the back of his curly head.

“What? It’s true. I liked Y/N the second I met her, but Sarah was always just a bitch,” Luke rubs the back of his head as he speaks. “Why do you think Quinn and I took one for the team and took the wicked witch out on the boat so we could keep her out of your hair for as long as possible?”

“Thanks, Luke,” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Well, I guess it’s time to tell mom that she knows you’re proposing,” Quinn says, looking towards Jack.

“Oh, no, no one is going to know that she knows. I had this whole thing planned out, and I’m not letting Y/N ruin her own proposal,” Jack says, finally letting go of your hands.

“Do I at least get to see the ring?” you ask him, hopeful.

“Nope,” Jack shakes his head, popping the ‘p’.

You huff, crossing your arms and looking at him with a pout, until you remember his words from a few minutes before.

“Wait, you told Sarah you carry the ring with you everywhere, does that mean it’s here? In this house?” Jack’s face falls, eyes looking anywhere but your own.

“No…”

Your face lights up, looking towards the stairs before back at Jack, turning and making a run for your room.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he runs after you, catching up to you in no time.

He grabs you by your torso and swings you around, sitting you back at the bottom of the stairs as he guards them.

“Not fair, your stupid hockey speed and reflexes can shove it,” you pout again.

As you stand at the bottom of the stairs, Quinn and Luke watch the two of you, admiring how perfect the two of you are for each other.

Luke thinks back to when he decided to introduce you to his older brother, knowing he made the right decision, the two of you bringing out the best versions of the other.

And when he stands, hidden with his family as he watches his brother get down on one knee, proposing to the girl that stood at the bottom of the stairs, demanding to see her ring, he knew sneaking into Jack’s room and moving the ring to his own room was the right move, the shock on your face worth the two week long silent treatment you gave him when you found out what he had done.

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00-jammy-00 · 10 months ago

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Since you mentioned u haven’t gotten more specific requests… maybe Yan CEO and how the first meet up at the convention was like? 🤔 with CEO reader OR his POV when reader hits on him while drunk (are they in a bar together? Business trip <3) can be a little smutty too as a treat since you mentioned him cumming in his pants when you kiss him..

Yan!CEO HC’s

Yan!CEO x GN! CEO! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, nsfw mentions (more than normal), possessiveness, horny yan, lovesick yan, drunken consent, drunken sex

A/N - Oh my god, they’re back?? Fuck yeah I am 🙏 for this part two I’ve decided to go with the second option of how you guys ended up sleeping together, this will include more NSFW than most of my other posts so be warned. Also, this request is amazing, thank you for not just saying “More this.” “This type of Yan with this type of Reader.” Those requests are difficult since it’s hard to come up with a scenario on the spot. Sorry for the long A/N, have an amazing read xx.

——————————————————————————————————

Yan!CEO was having the time of his life when he ran into you at the bar. Oh you frequent this place? Jeez, he didn’t know that at all, it’s not like he watches your every move or anything.

Yan!CEO who subtly pays for your drinks, pushing more and more down your system. You were just too cute, you got so angry, so mad that he teased you for showing off some skin, you know how fucking mad he was that you decided to show off skin to some strangers when he was there? He was fuming behind that smug grin.

Yan!CEO whose eyes gleamed when you became more bold, cussing him out aggressively, throwing your hands up in the air. Calm down dear, you’re drawing attention.

Yan!CEO who decided to make a joke about how you look sexy when you’re mad, thus causing you to lurch forward and grab him by the throat. He swear he saw stars. And fuck— when you decided to kiss him so harshly, lips smashing into his! Clean up on aisle his pants!

Yan!CEO who eagerly followed your lead as you dragged him to your hotel room, you booked this before you got to the bar? You knew he was coming, didn’t you sweetheart? You wanted this. You wanted him.

Yan!CEO who doesn’t drop the teasing attitude as you messily make out the moment you entered your room, hands flying to rip off clothes, god, this was everything for him. He still remembers the hazy look in your eyes when he put his knee between your legs, pinning you to the wall.

Yan!CEO who lays you sweetly on the bed, he could practically taste the alcohol on your tongue as you shared harsh kisses. He didn’t want to hurt you! You’re too fragile, he doesn’t like breaking his valuables, not unless they wanted him too…

Or…

Yan!CEO who decided being a brat was the way to go, put him in his place? He’d like to see you try, bet you can’t even make him cum…bet you can’t…bet you— bet you can’t make him cum…

Yan!CEO who is a whiny little bitch. If you want him to hump your boot to get off he’s already on the floor but he’s teasing you about how you’re ordering him around. It’s not HIS fault that he can’t keep still when he’s underneath you, you’re just so perfect! He needs you nooowwwww!

——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

Text

Continuity Error 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you are the resident tech and fly on the wall, until you're not. (short!reader)

Characters: Thor, this reader is known as Stormie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Everything is neat and tidy and separate. Like everything in your life. The bento box divides rice from even slices of grilled chicken, another unit of edamame and some greens in a section of their own. Right on top of your desk with the pen cup of black pens only and the organizer with post-its sorted by colour and size, along with a tin of mint and a single notebook. Orderly.

Unlike the rabble around you. The office is chaos. It’s noisy. It’s annoying.

It’s not where you wanted to be in life but you never really figured out the alternative. You just try to get by. Wake up, go to work, do your job, go home, eat. Everything is precise and routine. You don’t miss a beat. Just keep going.

That day is no different than the ones before. Fefe makes eyes at Mr. Odinson as he walks in with one of his clients. They’re all the same. Sometimes you suspect they aren’t there for business with the way they chat up the assistants. It’s not your concern; you only care when they open a spam link or forget to plug in their monitor. Work is simple.

You mind business and people mind theirs. They don’t remember you’re there until they need help. They don’t make small talk. You don’t either. What good is that? Just wasting time when you can fix their problem in less than a minute. You learned your lesson when that guy in the glasses keep winking.

You chew your chicken. You forgot lemon juice in your sauce. A rare oversight.

You take small bites. A bite of chicken. Then rice. Then edamame. And finally greens. It’s a parade of flavours. You keep the order; chicken, rice, veg...

When you finish, you get up with the lid and reusable cutlery, stacked on top of the container, and go to the break room to rinse it all out. You take your tip; washing each corner and crevice. You dry the pieces thoroughly and put it all back together.

“That’s an interesting container,” a deep voice startles you from the doorway.

You turn as you click the lid firmly into place. You put the container against your chest, hiding it. It’s him. The big burly blond that runs the floor. You wiggle your nose. A compulsion you have yet to unlearn.

“Sir.”

“May I see?” He asks.

As he comes closer you tense up. You don’t like people touching your stuff. You’ll have to resanitize it all and your hands.

“Unless you’d rather I not,” Mr. Odinson relents and stops a few feet from you, “I only came for a top up.”

He doffs his mug. The stains of his early brew still around the brim. He goes to the sink and rinses it out. He doesn’t scrub or soap it before he wipes it dry quickly and puts it on the tray of the single-serve machine. That’s exactly why you don’t touch the coffee station. You bring a thermos with cinnamon tea; it keeps warm all day long.

You nod and head for the door.

“Are you the replacement?” He asks. “I recall you looking much different.”

You stop and shake your head, “tech, sir.”

“Ah, yes, I remember now. The one in the corner,” he says as he clucks and squints at the selection of boxes. “Would you a recommendation?”

You waver. You just want to go to your desk. Your nose twitches again.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Tea? My brother is preferential to it as well.”

You’ve dealt with his brother. Down a few floors. Not very pleasant but asks a lot less questions.

You nod. He looks at you and brushes his fingertips along his golden beard. He’s a very large man but you suppose next to you, anyone is.

“I should go back to my desk.”

“And who says so? I am the boss, so far as I know,” he muses.

You pause before you can flee. Your nose wiggles. His blue eyes catch on the movement. You stare back, unsure what to do.

“Hm, this Colombian roast looks interesting,” he plucks out a pod. You stand there blankly. You don’t like this. He’s making you feel dumb. He’s getting in the way of your routine. “Are you available to have a look at my computer? It seems I’m having some error with the secure connection. That is, if you can make time for me?”

As the machine grinds loudly to push your shoulders back. “It is my job, yes.”

“Perfect, go ahead and wait for me in my office,” he says coolly, his focus on the spout.

You retreat through the door and flit over to your desk. You open your drawer and shove the container in your bag. You turn and look over at his office door. You slowly make your way between the desks toward it.

You pause across from the name placque on the door and glance over as Sierra watches you. You cross and push the handle down. You enter warily. You leave the door open and near his large desk. You go around and roll his chair aside. You hate touching other peoples’ things; you prefer to remote in.

You stand as you wake up the computer. You step back and wait. It’s locked. That’s good. You shouldn’t leave your device accessible.

Odinson enters with a waft of coffee. He smiles at you and your nose scrunches. “You will need to sign in and you can show me the problem.” You step back.

He comes around the desk and sets the cup down carelessly. A splash overflows the brim and leaks onto the desk, the coaster forgotten by his mousepad. He pulls his chair closer and sits in it heavily, the wheels squeaking.

It takes him several tries to login as his thick fingers are almost too big for the keys. When he’s in, he clicks around. You watch him bring up the server portal. He types again.

“Sir,” you say. “The two-factor authentication requires you to confirm on a secondary device. You need to type in sms and it will send a passcode to your phone or whatever else you’ve set up with the system.”

“Ah!” He snaps his fingers. “I knew it would be obvious. Clever rabbit.” He pops his index up.

“Problem solved,” you say and check your watch. Lunch is over.

“Thank you,” he beams.

You leave him without another word. You find it hard to believe he was locked out when the security protocol has been in place for well over a year. He needs it every day so why is it suddenly an issue? You shrug.

Like you said, problem solved. You can go back to your corner.

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #bad bosses #au #mcu #marvel #series #avengers #continuity error

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 8 months ago

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hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm cute request of hlc react to the room of requirement when MC introduces them to it?

and perhaps a little thing at the end of a party within that little gang? like MC introduced them all to the room bc they’re friends with all of them and wanted to bring everyone together in one bigger group??

HLC REACT TO THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT

MC stands proudly in front of the blank wall on the 7th floor of the astronomy tower. As if the Room had the same sense of theatrics, the door appears just before MC's friends were about to question their sanity.

The stone becomes a grand wood and iron door and opens to the grandeur of the main hall. MC holds the door open and gives a flourished bow to invite their friends inside.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He thought he had MC beat on secrets. His jaw was slack as he spun around to take it all in. "Wha- you-" he struggles to find the words. He can hear bubbling cauldrons down a hall, he sees door after shiny glass door going somewhere, and on top it all, they had their own house elf?? "The whole time...the whole time? The whole time??"

OMINIS GAUNT: He stands in stunned silence. His wand shows him as much unique detail of the Room as it can within its range. By the hushed and not so hushed awe of the people around him, the Room was incredible. He's the first to turn to MC and ask directly. "How did you find this Room?"

ANNE SALLOW: She finds a comfy looking chair and sinks into it. A room away from the bustle of the castle, so peaceful. A tea set in front of her starts making tea on its own. She looks at all the books and tomes the Room had provided and sighed, she could get used to this.

IMELDA REYES: She sees a broom rack on a far wall holding all the brooms MC had collected in the travels. "So you're more of a flying aficionado than you let on. No wonder..." She trails off and continues to look about the Room. "What's in there?" She points to the lantern like vivarium while the ominous blue glow.

NATSAI ONAI: She walks through the first vivarium to the beautiful sunny meadow. A few puffskiens and mooncalfs curiously approach her, looking for treats. She takes a deep breath of fresh air and smiles broadly as an idea comes to her. The wide open space, guaranteed safety and privacy. This was the perfect place to stretch her legs. She transforms into a gazelle and takes off full speed across the plain.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He is distracted from the main room by the distinctive sound and smell of brewing potions. He makes a B-line down the hall to the side room with all of MC's brewing projects and plants. He nearly faints at the sight. All the equipment and ingredients he could only dream of having. He gives MC a teary eyed look. "Can I? Please?" He points to an unused station.

LEANDER PREWETT: He goes down into the garden area behind Garreth. He doesn't know where he's going, just wandering. His mother would be so jealous of MC's set up. The side room was full of plant stations, some growing things he couldn't even identify. He stands with his hands on his hips. "This is a lot. How does MC manage all of this?"

AMIT THAKKAR: He's been up and down the tower innumerable times and not once has there been a door on the seventh floor. "This is incredible! No wonder you caught up so quickly. You had a whole room to yourself for study." He starts wandering towards one of the vivariums.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He stands next to MC, taking in the Room from the entry way. He looked at MC expectantly when Ominis asked how they found the Room. His jaw slacked when they answered it was Professor Weasley. Sure, MC needed all the help they could get to catch up with the other fifth years but this was way more than anyone expected. "Do you think I could borrow this Room if I needed to catch up on an assignment?"

POPPY SWEETING: She knows a vivarium when she sees one, her gran has one. She bolts up the stairs to the mountain vivarium. Inside she sees unicorns and hippogriffs swooping over head she's almost brought to tears. Then a unicorn foal trots up to her, expecting something tasty, and she does cry a little. Then something red and gold lands next to her. A phoenix. She breaks down. This is too much majesty. Too much cute.

DEEK: "Deek's friend said they would bring company today. Deek had food and drink prepared for guests." He snaps his fingers and a banquet appears on the long dining table. "Deek hopes you enjoy yourselves. If anything is required, Deek is happy to provide." He gives MC a smile.

MC: They were so happy to bring all their friends together into one space. Especially one as incredible as the Room of Requirement. As they thought of how much fun it would be to have them use the Room too, everything started to shift. The whole room adjusted and new segments were added. MC calmed their alarmed friends. "This just sort of happens sometimes, don't worry about it." They walked around to see what was new.

Another vivarium was added, this one by a lake with lots of trees.

A private balcony to the outside with various telescopes.

The potion room had more space.

Another side room was added for lounging or dining.

Multiple new bookshelves appeared full of new reading material.

MC had work to do, now they could show off their transfiguration skills.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #natsai onai #anne sallow #leander prewett #imelda reyes #amit thakkar #everett clopton #poppy sweeting

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plussizeficchick · 2 years ago

Text

Hey guys.. so interesting factoid about me; I like to watch wrestling. I mean, tune in every week, watch the PPV’s, buy the merch type of fan.

Soo, let’s talk about Pro Wrestler!Bakugo

At first, he had no interest in it, he wanted a more rugged sport like football, but after his mother saw one too many players get CTE, she immediately pulled him from the sport.

He was angry at first because dammit, he’s not like those other extras on the field! But alas, to save himself an earful, he quit the sport as a two-time Super Bowl champion.

But he needed something else to let his aggression out. Something heavy-hitting.

That’s when he found pro wrestling.

At first, he was shit, he can admit that. He didn’t know how to run the ropes, he wasn’t with the high-flying shit and making people tap out didn’t satisfy his needs. That’s when he found his real fighting style.

Brawler.

He likes to beat people up. He likes pummeling his opponents into bloody heaps until they’re too far gone to even stand. And he especially likes the shiny belt that gets thrown over his shoulder after every title defense.

But nothing, nothing, compares to the cute, chunky commentator that sits at ringside.

He thinks you’re absolutely adorable, the way you try to shit on his matches and promos, and he knows it’s hard! He’s incredibly charismatic and he has the chops to back it up.

He corners you one day before a show, “Hey, Chubs. You got a problem with me or something?” He presses you. You’re a bit caught off guard and he uses that to back you up against a wall. “Cat got your tongue? Funny how you always seem to have something to say out there but when it’s just us…” You cut him off, pressing a firm, manicured finger into his chest. “Listen, asshole. I actually do have a problem with you. I think you’re full of shit. You walk around like you own the place, when the only reason you got your spot in the company is by kissing the boss’s ass. So yeah, I’ve got a fucking problem with you.” You storm off, muttering incoherently under your breath and fuck, Bakugo doesn’t think he’s ever been harder than he was right then.

The following week you’re the one cornering him in the hallway. “What the fuck is this?” You angrily shove the papers in his face. Bakugo smirks at the papers, ��I see you got the news.” “No shit I got the news, what the fuck are you trying to do?” You press. Bakugo stands, towering over you. “Easy, Princess. All I told them was that I’d want to work with you more. I didn’t think they’d put us together. But then again, why wouldn’t they want to keep their top guy happy?” He’s smug, the bastard. And you want more than anything to wipe that smirk off his face.

“Fine then.” You grab his hand and lead him to his personal locker room. “If we’re gonna do this, I want it to look real.” The smirk drops from his face as you toss the door open. He follows behind you and locks the door when you instruct him to. Since when did you start telling him what to do?

By the time he turns back around, you’ve already made yourself comfortable on the large sofa. You removed your jeans and panties, tossing the lacy garment his way. “I want you to eat me out, Champ.” Fuck, you’ve got him hooked already.

He makes his way over to you, getting on his knees to breathe in your delicious scent. His mouth is practically watering as he sucks hickies onto your thighs, eager to finally dig in to what he’s been denied so long. You thread your fingers through his ash blonde hair, slightly tugging. “Hurry, ‘Suki.” You whine. He wants to hear you beg more, but he knows he’ll get the opportunity to later on.

He dives right in, lapping up your juices before sucking your clit into his mouth. You gasp at the feeling, bucking your hips up against his face. He’s messy, he spits on your cunt before lapping it right back up along with your juices. “Fuck, ‘Suki. S’good. Please.” You cry out. “Please what, Princess? Gotta tell me what you want.” He mumbles into your cunt. “Fingers. Please. Want your fingers, baby.” As much as he wants to deny, the pet name does something to him, he can’t help but comply.

He coats two fingers in your essence before slowly pressing the middle one inside, curling the finger in search of that special spot. You whine at the feeling, cunt clenching around him. “Gotta open up, baby. Gotta let me stretch you out for my cock.” He coos at you, his voice a striking contrast to how he sounds when he addresses the masses. It’s then that you come to the revelation that he only addresses you like that. He’s never loud, never aggressive when he’s with you. You don’t know why, but it has your cunt dripping that he’s only like that with you.

He slides in another finger, working you closer to your orgasm, and when he finally puts that heavenly mouth back to work, you feel your cunt spasming, core clenching as your orgasm washes over you. He milks it for all your worth and keeps going, and before long you feel another orgasm rush through you, though this one feels more different than the first.

“‘Suki, wait! I’m gonna-” “Cum, cum for me again, baby. Want you to soak my face.” You cry out as you cum for the second time that night, squirting all over Katsuki’s face. You grind your cunt against him, his nose bumping your sensitive nub. He lets you ride it out, before finally pulling away, your juices dripping from his chin. He licks his lips before pressing a fiery kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself.

You hum at the taste, but you’re eager for the real star of the show. You pull at his belt, signaling that you want his clothes off, and who is he to deny you? He takes off his pants, but unlike you, he keeps his shirt on seeing as the show was going to start soon. His cock bobs up against his abdomen and the tip is a pretty shade of pink, with a few veins along the sides. Of course he has a pretty dick.

He runs his cock along your cunt, bumping the tip against your clit a few times before slowly pressing inside. He sets a steady pace, checking to make sure you're okay before increasing his speed. Before long, the room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping, and fuck, you’re a sight. Your face is flushed, with pretty tears streaming down your face, he can’t help but want a taste, tongue licking your tears before pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips, sucking your tongue into his mouth. He’s close, so fucking close, but he needs you to cum for him again.

“Cum f’me, baby. Cum for your champion.” And you do, your cunt clenched around his cock as you cum for a third time. You’re spent, but you want to feel him cum, want to feel him inside you during the show. You squeeze your cunt around him, eager to coax his orgasm from him. “Cum f’me, ‘Suki. Cum f’me, baby.” You know what the name does to him. Something so simple, yet so domestic just gets him ready to spill inside you. And he does, after a few more thrusts he’s cumming, the feeling of his seed filling you feeling so good, so warm.

You both stay connected for a moment, before you start to giggle. Bakugo’s head perks up at that, before joining you with a slight chuckle. “How long do you think before they realize we’ve been dating?” You ask, a dopey smile on your face. Katsuki kisses your cheek before answering, “I’d say a few weeks. You know I can’t keep my hands off you for too long. And now that I get to love on you in front of everybody, fuck yeah I’m gonna rub their noses in it.” You chuckle before pushing him off of you. “Alright, get me a towel. Show’s about to start.” “Yeah, you’ve got like 10 minutes.” “‘Suki!”

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon

#x chubby reader #anime x chubby reader #anime x black!reader #bnha x chubby reader #bnha x black!reader #bnha x reader #x black reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x black reader #x black fem reader #chubby reader #chubby!reader #pro wrestler!bakugo #bakugo x chubby reader #mha x chubby reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha x plus size reader

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brokenpieces-72 · 2 months ago

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Hybrid au is so tastyyy

My minds stuck on reader getting their first romantical partner and the boys just being EVEYWHERE the lovers don't get a single second alone and do not even think about closing the door when alone that's a no no

Okay so I would say this happens when Spirit is a little older. As to whether the partner is human or hybrid I’m not sure.

Romantic Recon

You started with just hanging out but you got curious about a romantic partner. You got attached to them and they enjoyed your company. They were sweet and charming. Thought your ears were cute which always made you blush. Sometimes Johnny would notice and inquire, but you wouldn’t notice so you just shrugged it off, all happy and sunshine. Johnny doesn't let it go.

Your partner finally asks if you want to start spending more time together, and lo and behold, Konig overhears. Does he bring it up with Soap? Yes absolutely. Ghost is with him, and so is Gaz. They’d already suspected, your hormones do increase when you’re close to your partner. And of fucking course they get protective.

Horangi teases the fuck out of it. You swear everytime you just want to sit and talk with your partner he comes into the room to “grab something” or “pass through”. Yeah right, you know recon when you see it.

Konig does accidentally walk in on you. At one point you are audibly frustrated, and he backs out of the room. He didn’t mean to walk in, really. You probably shouldn’t close doors though. The last thing he wanted was to walk in on something you shouldn’t be- okay okay, you got it. Please don’t go into detail.

Price doesn’t mind you having a partner, but no closed doors. He’ll knock, to give you some space, but it’s more like a chance for you to stop canoodling before he opens the door. Door has to stay open or you can be out in rec room. Besides you have some work to do anyways. No you don’t get to bring the work back to your room, and your partner has another task they’re needed for.

Alejandro steps in when your partner is alone, you had to get up to grab something. At some point he calls your partner aside to ask a few questions, making sure they did the work they were supposed to. Then he asks what your partners intentions were with you. That made your partner uneasy. Nothing bad sir, they swear.

Rudy tag teams with the colonel, and will have the cadejos scratch on your door if it’s closed. Once you tried to hide with your partner just to talk, it was really just meant to be a simple chat. They were having a rough day and you wanted to know what was going on. Everything would be okay, you know it would and-really?! Rudy just stood there holding the door open. Everything okay in here? Obviously just go! The door was left open and you apologized profusely to your partner.

Ghost is annoying cause he acts like he hasn’t done anything. Yeah he definitely didn’t pass through the walls to see what you were up to. Closed doors are fucking useless with him. You half suspect Johnny put him up to it. No he just found it easier to pass through on his way to coffee. You roll your eyes, and tell him not to that. You’re a grown woman, and don’t appreciate him just coming in to your room whenever he pleases. You have a full on confrontation after he walked in on you and your partner in your room. You get why he did it when you were younger and your handler was a jerk, but he didn’t get to do it now. Simon actually respects your wishes. He still keeps watching though.

You figured if you couldn’t get privacy inside you’d try outside.…Gaz what the hell? You tried the roof where you sometimes sat with Gaz, but Gaz landed and told you two to get another roof. Oh come on, you were there first. Whatever. Your partner suggests a hike later on, and you love hiking and think you might actually get away for a bit! Yes! You could show your partner some of the best spots! Your partner finds your excitement adorable. Gaz flying overhead made your cloud watching a little annoying. Your partner is used to it at this point.

Johnny… okay Johnny was the one you could understand being protective but holy shit could he tone it down! When he asks who made you blush and you told him he went straight to the soldier. Since then he was watching like a hawk or asking someone else to check up on you. If he even sensed your hormones being different he would ask what you were up to tonight. Yeah, right it’s not nothing. You’re still not telling. He’ll sniff it out. He does and it’s frustrating. If he walks in he tries to cover it up, like it’s nothing, sorry he was just grabbing some food, or something. The final straw was when you still didn’t tell him what you were doing and he learned you went out without telling anyone with only your partner. He went full wolf mode tracking you down. That was fucking it! When you heard him coming you went into your full wendigo form, staring him down. The werewolf growling and your towering Wendigo form startled your date, and when you finally returned to base they asked if you two could take a break.

Price did give Johnny a hard time about go so protective. He understood why, but ha! You weren’t letting him off that easy. That night you were upset and did some crying. This wasn’t fair, you were an adult… and as an adult you were going to set some rules of your own. No joke you came to Price a day or so later requesting a meeting. No not with him, though you wanted his attendance, you wanted it with the whole team. Yeah Horangi better be there too or you would ask Konig to help you strap him to a chair to listen.

The atmosphere in that room is awkward. When Johnny tried to apologize after what happened you ignored him which never happens. As you left the room Ghost made a comment about him being in the dog house. You poked your head back in glaring. Oh no, Ghost was haunting that dog house too. Shit. In the meeting room everyone was present.

“Are you all aware I’m an adult?” You asked.

The room was very quiet with a few exchanging looks. You’ll take that as a yes.

“And you are also aware I am fully capable of making my own decisions? Of making my own mistakes and maybe even making good choices?” The room gave a few nods. Yeah okay, where was this going?

“So then you should also be aware that despite being the youngest on this team I am fully capable of having my own sex life.” You stated, arms crossed and glaring at each of them. Some of them went red.

“You’ve been avin sex?!” Johnny asked, voice raised. That’s what he focused on?!

“FUCKING NO!! Not that I would even have a chance with you lot fucking spying on me 24/7 like I’m thirteen!” You shouted back. That got Johnny to back off. You were upset, and he was the cause. They all were in some part.

“Spirit, what is this meeting about?” Price asked. You know he wants you to get on with the main point. It wasn’t just to have an argument with Johnny.

“I just want to have some proper alone time with my partner. We can’t easily leave base whenever we want, and there’s tons of people coming and going, I get that. But the few times we can be together to just hang out or cuddle for a bit, someone walks in on us, and all of you seem to have forgotten how to close the door, or that I am entitled to some level of privacy!” You explained. Okay, that was a much better explanation. There’s some undertones of emotion in your voice. The team was so used to you being their little one, they seemed to forget sometimes that you’d grown up.

Price gives in, and asks what you propose. You want to set some ground rules. You were permitted to be alone with your partner if you so desired. If they needed you, they could text or call for you, you could hear it. If the door is closed they had to knock, and had to wait for your response before coming in. No trying to get between you and your partner, or pulling you apart for other tasks unless it was actually required. It was something they all had to follow, but Johnny had only one condition. That you at least tell him where you’re going if you do leave for something. He’d only follow if it was an emergency.

By the end of the meeting, everyone parts ways to go about their usual routine. Gaz stuck behind while Johnny gave you space at Simon’s request. He noticed you were upset and wanted to apologize for the fly by. Not that it would matter, since your partner wanted a break. Kyle assured you that your partner needed time to relax, and adjust to the crazy hybrid family you had on base. It couldn’t hurt for you to take some time for yourself as well. Give it maybe a day or so, and then go talk to them. The woods would probably be the best to ensure you have some privacy. If you want, Kyle will wait for you on the roof.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @yune1337

#cod au #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #task force 141 x reader #alejandro vargas #rudolfo parra #hybrid au #romance #ha yeah right #unless #wendigo jackalope #jackalope hybrid #hybrid reader

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

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Hey loveeee ! How are you ??

I wanted to say first that, girl, i love your writing, liké every single time i see one of your posts, i have this stupid big smile on my mouth !!

Could i ask please please please some azriel x short reader headcannon ??

Bye !! ❤️

Azriel x short!reader headcanons

A/n: Hi anon! You’re too sweet that made me so happy I hope you like this 🥹

Warnings: some smutty thoughts so 18+ pls

Az thought your height was one of the most adorable things about you

You barely come up to his chest

He literally looks at you with heart eyes

Acts like your personal bodyguard whenever you got out

You had wandered off to the bar by yourself once at Rita’s without telling anyone

Azriel’s sense we’re heightened when he noticed you were gone

He went full spymaster mode when he couldn’t find you in the crowd

When he sent his shadows out people started to panic a little

When Az found you he was so relieved he hugged you so tight to his chest, “I’m never taking eyes off you again.”

Now he has a shadow that follows you all the time now

You didn’t have the arm strength to climb things when you couldn’t reach high shelves so the shadow became your little pet, getting things for you and making sure you were ok 24/7

When he takes you flying for the first time you were a little scared

What if he dropped you? Or what if you slipped through his arms?

“Baby I promise I won’t drop you. I’ll hold on to you extra tight, promise.”

Az holds you tight when he isn’t flying

He loves just picky you up, you laugh and cling to him

Az’s favorite way to just casually pick you up is with one arm like around your thigh so your basically sitting on his arm. You rest your head on his shoulder and kiss his neck which makes him blush

Az loves that you’re not afraid to get close to him

When you first started courting each other he was afraid to get close to you. He was scared that he would hurt you and when he told you that you said, “I’m not afraid of you Az. Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I’m some delicate thing.”

You loved stealing Az’s clothes

His hoodies were so long on you, they’re your favorite to lounge or sleep in especially if he’s away

The first time you wore his hoodie and sweatpants he laughed at how big they were on you

His bed is huge!

Since he has the biggest wingspan he needs the biggest bed

Az liked his space. The first time you slept over he was amazed at how much room you took up

You move around a lot in your sleep and at one point in the night you were sideways with your legs on his stomach

Hours later Az was still up and you had moved closer to him. He let out an annoyed huff, but that’s when you moved one last time

You wrapped your arms around him and laid your head on his chest. Az had froze bc he was so overwhelmed at the intimacy of being this close to someone

Relaxing he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head whispering ‘good night’

Of all things that woke you up! You lifted your head to look at him, realizing you were on top of him, “Sorry Az I can get off” “No,” he cuts you off, “I like this.” You gave him a sleepy smile laying back down and immediately went back to sleep

Az stayed up for a little while longer watching you sleep and playing with your hair

You like to stand on chairs or tables so you can be taller than him

When you are “taller” you like to hug Az to your chest like he does with you and pulling him in for a kiss

Az loves kissing the top of your head, forehead, and the tip of your nose. You always blush if he does all 3, and when he does all 3 he whispers, “absolutely precious.” It makes you feel special

Az wraps a wing around you when you sit on the couch and read together

You always end up falling asleep, he’s just so warm and his wings are so comfy

NSFW from here (18+ only)

Like Cassian, Az absolutely has a size kink but it started when you two started dating

When he towers over you looking down at you with his eyes full lust, backing you against a wall he’s instantly hard (and your soaked bc he looks like a dark god)

You love when he wraps his hand around your throat bc it fits your whole neck (your fav necklace)

Az loves that he can manhandle you and put you in any position he wants while he fucks you

When you ride him he’s still in charge

He holds onto your waist and bounces you up and down on his cock

“That’s it baby, I got you.” “Such a perfect little doll for me.” “Yeah, you like it when I use you like this huh?”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel headcanon

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year ago

Note

Best Friend Haz and Reader are so cute!! Do they just stay friends or is there a relationship involved👀

Tastes So Sweet*

warnings: smut, oral f receiving(munchrry), lil bit of subrry, protected sex

pairing: best friend harry x reader

masterlist | harry styles masterlist

Closing his front door behind him, Harry follows YN into his home, the both of them taking their shoes off by the door before making their way further in. They don’t even make it 5 feet before they’re on each other, Harry pressing his lips to YN’s and her body to the wall adjacent the door. Pulling away, their chests are heaving as Harry looks down at her with so much adoration in his eyes before he speaks up.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” Harry whispers against her lips, and she pulls away with a bashful smile before pressing her lips to his once more. This time, though, the kiss is much hungrier than the last, and Harry pulls her closer, running his hands down to her lower back, just beneath the hem of her shirt. Now, it’s him that pulls away from the heated kiss, a smug smile on his face as he looks down at her.

“Did that make you feel nice? Y’like when I compliment you?” he teases, gently taking her bottom lip between his teeth and earning him an annoyed whine from her. From the way she’s begun shifting on her feet he can tell that her thighs are pressed tightly together to provide herself with some relief to where she’s getting wet for him.

YN just playfully shoves his shoulder but he doesn’t budge, his tone becoming darker as his hands travel lower and lower. “I asked you a question, Petal. I need an answer or I’ll be taking care of myself tonight,” he warns, humming in satisfaction when she practically melts at his tone.

“Yes, it made me feel nice,” she murmurs, hooking her thumbs into his belt loops just to be gently pulled away seconds later.

“Well cmon then, I’ve got some more compliments,” he teases, and she chuckles at his lame joke as he begins to drag her down the hallway toward his bedroom. When they arrive he doesn’t even bother closing the door behind them before he’s helping her out of her clothes -stopping for a moment to admire how fucking pretty she looks in just a bra and panties- and ridding himself of his own.

He’s then helping her to the centre of the bed and on her back, climbing between her legs. He wraps his arms around her thighs for support. “How are you this gorgeous? A right angel, all for me,” he whispers, not wasting anymore time on words before he buries his face between her soft thighs. He immediately begins to lick and suck at her sodden folds, and the amount of pleasure so quickly scares YN just a bit, her hands flying to his hair and yanking, but not enough to hurt him.

“Just can’t get enough of you; taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs against her, taking her swollen clit back into his mouth the moment he’s finished speaking. The both of them are drowning in pleasure, the sweetest sounds leaving her puffy lips. Each time she squirms above him he just pulls her even closer, burying his face so far into her that he can’t breathe.

He sucks and licks at her like a starved man, groaning against her, simply from her taste and the pleasure she’s receiving herself. She’s above him completely boneless as she lets him have his fill, and soon her legs are shaking around his head and her back arching as she nears the end. Words fail her as sobs of pure pleasure have begun to fall from her lips as she tries to warn him but can’t, her orgasm wracking her body almost unexpectedly.

She’s fallen silent as she rides it out against his face, the only sounds in the room being Harry’s groans and the filthy sounds of his tongue lapping up every bit of what she has to give him. He keeps his mouth on her until she’s completely limp save for the occasional aftershocks that make her legs twitch on either side of his head, and he’s sitting up with a shiny chin and a leaking cock.

His hands have now found her hips as he begins to gently run them all over her body, whispering sweet words to keep her grounded as she catches her breath. When she catches her breath, he sits back on his heels as she pulls herself into a sitting position, and he just watches closely as she moves closer to him before spitting into her palm and taking his aching cock into her hand.

She takes a moment to admire him, hard and weepy, just for her, and strokes him slowly a few times to test the waters before he begins to grow impatient.

“Please, let me have you,” he whimpers, bucking his hips into her fist with an impatient whine. He feels his stomach clench in pleasure when she simply runs her thumb over his weepy tip, his head falling back and tears building in his eyes from the teasing. “‘m gonna cum if you don’t stop, please,” he begs once again, choking on a moan when she bends down between his thick thighs and replaces her thumb with her tongue.

Running her tongue through the mess he’s made of himself, she hums in satisfaction when he tries to buck his hips toward her face but is stopped by her hands. She decides to indulge for a few more moments before she’s pulling off him with an audible pop, moving to the centre of the bed.

Harry can only watch her with a heaving chest as she spreads herself open for him, his cock twitching painfully from the teasing and anticipation. He could cry when she finally gives him permission, and he’s making quick work of grabbing the condom from behind him and sliding it on, a small whimper leaving his lips from the stimulation he’s provided himself.

He wastes no more time before climbing on top of her and lining himself up with her. He slides in as slowly as possible, and when he bottoms out his arms immediately shake before giving out and his head falls into the crevice between her face and shoulder, his body shuddering at the warmth and snugness of her. The weight on top of her has him nestled right against her g-spot, and when she lets out the sweetest moan he’s ever heard, it takes everything in him not to fill the condom right then, his eyes squeezing shut as he feels himself nearing his orgasm.

They just lie there connected in the most intimate way for a few moments until he can feel like he can move without blowing inside her, his hips rutting against hers as he begins to slowly fuck her. Their close proximity only aides in the progression of their orgasms, his pelvis brushing against her swollen clit, causing her to flutter around him from how sensitive she still is.

It only spurs him on, and he picks up the pace just a bit without changing the depth or angle in hopes it will get her there quicker. “Feel so good,” he murmurs against her neck, and beneath her sounds of pleasure he can hear the sound of their bodies connecting, he can feel her wetness against his pelvis as he brings the both of them closer.

“‘m gonna cum,” he hears her gasp right beside his ear, her arms wrapping around his upper back in an attempt to bring him closer to her.

“Please, please give it to me,” he whines against her. Moments later he feels her body go rigid and a long, drawn out moan leaves her lips as she finally cums around him, the feeling sending him over the edge as well. Harry feels his stomach clench and his balls draw up before all of his pent up release drains from his body, his warm cum flooding the condom. He can only sob against her damp skin and rut his hips against her as he works every last drop of cum from himself, pushing himself as deep as he can go as he twitches inside of her until he’s empty.

#harryistheonlyoneforme #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles filth #harry related writings #smut #dbf harry styles #dbf harry #best friend h x reader #best friend harry #best friend h #bestie harry #bestierry #bestie h #bestie!h #best friend!harry #new fic

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diamond-champagne · 5 months ago

Text

12. You

Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Warnings: none

A/N: the best things come in small packages! At least that's how I feel about this chapter. Thank you so much for sticking through YOU with me! I hope this is the ending you all needed to heal <3

@starry1777 this is for you!

The idea that love feels like butterflies and fireworks is overrated. At least that’s what Paige and Azzi think because while it did feel magical, while it does feel magical, nothing exploded. Fireworks weren’t set off in the background and it wasn’t like seeing color for the first time.

Their love was like water putting out a fire that threatened to burn everything to the ground. It was like being under a blanket in a chilly room. This love settled storms and calmed dangerous waters.

It was security. A tether that pulled you back from everything you ever feared.

This love was coming home. A home they had been running to get to. Maybe they got lost on the way or maybe they left their key somewhere but here Paige and Azzi were. Home.

“What are you thinking about?” A voice grumbles. The movement of Paige’s mouth against Azzi’s neck makes her shift. She wasn’t aware Paige was awake.

“About us” she answers wistfully. The brown-eyed girl isn’t lying because ever since she woke up that morning, the thought of what they can be together hasn’t left her mind. Her Paige smile graces her face though a bit sleepy and hidden in a mass of long blonde hair.

“What about us?” Paige whispers. The two lay in bed tangled so perfectly together from the legs all the way to their fingers. The blonde lays on Azzi’s chest and listens to her heart beat. The sun peaking through the room with the warmest golden light. She watches as their fingers intertwine perfectly and thinks they were quite literally made to be like this; exactly how they are at this moment.

“Just how happy I am.” Azzi could say more but what’s understood doesn’t need to be said. This might be her favorite part because she knows if no one else does, that Paige will always understand her. The blue-eyed girl is fluent in the language that is Azzi as if it’s the first thing she’s ever learned.

“How happy we are” Paige corrects before nuzzling her face into Azzi’s neck.

The two don’t exchange any more words, simply enjoying the silence around them. It’s a bubble they have created in Azzi’s room, full of love.

That feeling isn’t confined to the four walls of her bedroom though because it follows them everywhere.

Paige feels it every time she’s driving or flying. The love that Azzi has for her fills her entirely so maybe she rushes a little more to always get back home to where she gets to be in the arms of her favorite person.

Azzi feels it every time she’s under pressure. It’s in the back of her mind that no matter how she performs on the court, or in the classroom, that someone is always proud of her. Someone is always rooting for her.

It fills the room when they wake up after spending the night together. Azzi’s heart swells when her nose is tickled with blonde hair and attacked by vanilla perfume. Paige nearly tears up every single time she realizes that she’ll never wake up alone.

Their love encompasses them in every aspect of life. It’s infiltrated their minds, hearts, and beings.

Azzi understands why authors write novels about it, why it inspires poetry, and why singers spend their entire careers dedicating songs to it.

She’s in love.

“Azzi, what are you most excited about for the future?”

The brown-eyed girl isn’t sure how long she’s been zoned out but she figures not long. The interviewer is still patiently awaiting her answer and Paige, standing so close she can feel her, is smiling so bright she thinks the stars don’t stand a chance.

They’re at the WNBA draft tonight, awaiting their own fates.

Azzi knows she should be focused on tonight and what this means for her career but she can only see the blonde next to her. She can only see that they're a little closer to a permanent home that they can build together.

She knows that they are expecting answers related to basketball but she doesn’t care because the one she provides is just as good and just as honest. Without breaking eye-contact from her favorite pair of blue eyes, Azzi speaks into the microphone.

“You”

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #paige x azzi #uconn wbb #you

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dotthings · 14 days ago

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Dean and Cas things in Hunter Heroici:

* Dean asking Cas if he’s going to open up a charming B&B in VT. It's the fact that Dean thinks about B&B in VT and Dean pictures Cas in a B&B in VT. Oh sure, he's joking but it's Dean's brain who chose this Hallmark movie concept for Cas and there is more than one moment in this episode where Cas is associated with romantic feelings around Dean. (See below)

* Dean insisting Cas doesn’t zap around, that he rides with him and Sam. Even if they won’t let him ride shotgun--this is a change to their usual way of doing things. Dean wants Cas in the car, with them. Not flying around on his own.

* Dean and Cas keep gravitating toward each other during the investigation, shoulder to shoulder, standing closer than they need to be, and bantering back and forth about the case, often leaning in to speak quietly about it only to each other.

* In one scene, Dean and Cas doing that about the suburban poly/open marriages arrangement going on among the neighbors (instance #2 of Cas associated with romance around Dean)

* Dean and Cas acting like they’ve been partnering up like this for years despite the awkwardness. They just click.

* Cas offering to watch over Dean so he can sleep

* Cas going through Dean’s toiletries bag in a familiar way

* same as with the refusing to let Cas ride shotgun, Dean sets the boundary of asking if Cas will get his own room. Yet Dean keeps placing himself with Cas. There's a push-pull coming from Dean of wanting Cas there and wanting to be as near Cas as he can be and yet Dean also trying to figure out the newness of it and how Cas fits. Wanting to be close, not ready to get too close yet. It's not hard to see this as part of an ongoing courtship (playing out on a symbolic, subtextual, or coded way). Inching closer and closer. It’s also that they found a certain closeness in Purgatory, after a period of estrangement, and now post-Purgatory the rules and dynamics all changed up again and they have to relearn how to work together on earth.

* Sam goes off with the police detective while Dean and Cas keep working the case at the bank together. Dean asks Cas if he can lift the anvil, and the expression on Cas’s face is pure tired husband eyeroll: plz, you know perfectly well I can lift this.

* Cas paging through John’s journal and observing he had beautiful handwriting. Something very intimate about Dean and Cas in this ep—Cas up inside Dean’s life and personal spaces in a new way

* Dean asking Cas how he’s doing, saying he’s happy he’s back, “thrilled” even, but worried about resurrection consequences and then Cas abruptly shutting down, putting up walls. Dean snapping the laptop shut in a sharp closing gesture, but as he stands up to go over to Cas, looking for an opening. Sitting down with Cas and being very direct: “talk to me." Dean's emotional IQ is in fact very high and Cas starts to open up about his trauma and confesses to Dean he's afraid he might kill himself if he returns to Heaven. As Dean is processing that, they’re interrupted by Sam returning. In this scene, Sam becomes the intrusion.

* Dean looking so fondly at Cas when the old lady, who mistook Cas for her very handsome late husband, flirtatiously calls him “quite the bounder” (instance #3 of Cas associated with romance or sex in front of/around Dean)

* At the end of the case, Dean is so proud about the good work Cas did and he offers Cas the shotgun seat—and Cas declines because he realizes he needs to face up to Heaven. Then gets mind-controlled by Naomi into going neither to Heaven nor with Sam and Dean. We see Dean’s disappointment—he wants Cas with him, and Cas so often is running away, getting lost, and Dean with his abandonment issues is so often the one being left. Cas does need to deal with Heaven for his own sake, but all Cas’s roads will lead him back to Dean—who is the one Cas really needs to stop running from the most.

#Dean Winchester #Castiel #Destiel #dot rewatches spn #Cas meta #Dean meta #destiel meta

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waywardxrhea · 1 month ago

Text

Part of Your World - George Weasley

Chapter 17

pairing: George Weasley x fem!Muggle!reader

installment list / previous chapter / next chapter

word count: 5,915

content: protective 👏🏻 george 👏🏻 weasley 👏🏻, lots of pregnancy/baby stuff this chapter, arthur getting to experience more muggle medical stuff, medical stuff (needles, blood), emotions and insecurity, tears (happy mostly!), george being the sweetest husband ever

“George!” you shouted into the quiet that surrounded you as you lounged on the loveseat in your new sitting area. A couple weeks before, the two of you had finally taken a plunge you had been discussing since you found out you were pregnant: moving into a house on the outskirts of London. You needed room for your growing family that the flat above the shop simply couldn’t provide, not to mention that you always felt like a bother having to take George away from work to come get you from Charing Cross Road. The walls were still mostly barren because of only being able to move so much in at a time between both of your busy schedules, so the call for your husband echoed slightly through the space.

“Everything okay?” George asked as he ran into the area, wand at the ready in case you were in danger.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of George’s protective side, but you ignored the tears prickling the backs of your eyes as you giggled quietly and said, “Everything’s fine, come here!” You sat up with a quiet grunt of effort and allowed space beside you for George to sit. After he did, you grabbed his hands and placed them on either side of your belly, telling him, “Wait for it…”

You reached into the bowl of Bertie Bott's that George had sorted to try to ensure you only had the good flavours, and ate one that tasted like marshmallow. As the sweet flavour coated your tongue, you felt another gentle movement in your abdomen as Fred kicked against George’s hand. A wide smile made its way across his face and tears began to sting the backs of his eyes as he asked, “Did…did he just kick?”

You nodded enthusiastically, and a tear slipped out of your eye as George leaned down to kiss your bump before straightening up and kissing your lips gently. When you pulled away and rested your forehead on his, you said with a quiet laugh, “I finally figured out what makes him kick! He’s going to be very disappointed the first time he gets a bad flavoured one when he’s older.”

“If it keeps the both of you happy, I’ll make sure I take the bad ones for the rest of my life,” George told you before sneaking another kiss.

“Oh, don’t you go making me cry!” you chastised as more tears flooded from your eyes.

“Well, while we’re at it, I may as well show you the progress I made on the nursery,” he said with a laugh as he got up and held out a hand to help you off of the loveseat. When you got into the room, you saw that along with the crib that your dad had helped you build on his day off, George had put in a mobile that had little brooms racing around chasing after golden snitches. There were also small to medium sized portraits that held both Muggle and magical creatures alike that wandered through the frames to play together! As you covered your mouth at the sweet gesture, George asked, “You like them? I saw the mobile in a shop window on the way to work today, and I just couldn’t resist! I got Luna to paint the portraits, and she said she would be willing to paint the room itself if we want!”

“They’re all brilliant!” you said through your tight throat, emotions welling up in your chest at the sight. You threw yourself into George’s arms and you held him as close as your bump would allow as you whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Of course,” he replied as he ran a hand up and down your back. “I was thinking that she could paint a mountainscape and have a couple of dragons on it that fly around the room!”

Once you gathered yourself, you laughed quietly before saying, “When Abbie and Jaz come over, you’re going to have to freeze all the paintings, but that sounds amazing, love! I think he’ll love it!” You were quiet for a moment before telling him, “Thank you for agreeing to move us into this place. It was getting hard to keep coming up with excuses as to why the girls couldn’t come over to help with the nursery…”

“We needed the change and the space,” George replied, giving you a kiss on your temple as you turned so your back was resting against his chest. His hands landed on your bump once more before he said, “I can’t wait to see what the future holds for the three of us.”

“Me too,” you said, a grateful sigh leaving your chest as the both of you swayed to the quiet music playing from the radio sitting in the corner of the nursery.

At your next appointment with your OB, Arthur joined you and George as you all waited in the small examination room. When the doctor walked in, she smiled warmly at Arthur after glancing between him and George and asked brightly, “Are you granddad?”

“That I am!” he replied

“Nailed it!” she said with a laugh. As the doctor pulled on her gloves and turned on the machine, she asked Arthur, “Is this your first?”

“Third, actually, but first grandson!” Arthur replied. “I didn’t go to anything like this with the others, so I’m excited to see how it all works!”

“Dad’s always been a curious mind, he’ll probably have a lot of questions,” George told her with a quiet chuckle.

“That’s fine by me,” she said before turning her attention toward you. “How’ve we been feeling, Mum?”

“A little sleep deprived if I’m honest,” you admitted. You placed a hand on your bump and said, “This little guy doesn’t seem to ever want to sleep at night!”

“That’s about normal at this stage, I call it practise for when he arrives,” she said. “Do you have a pregnancy pillow?”

“I don’t, would that be useful?” you asked curiously as you lifted your shirt and lowered the band of your maternity bottoms so she could conduct the ultrasound.

“God, yes! They are a miracle for supporting your belly while you sleep on your side,” she said. A laugh spilled out of her mouth as she added to George, “Now, you sir may not get to be the big spoon as often if she gets one, but, I say it’s worth it for a better night’s sleep!”

“Consider it done,” George said, taking your hand in his and squeezing it lightly.

The doctor then started squeezing the cool gel on your belly, asking, “Ready to see him?”

She placed the wand to your belly and moved it around to try and find the little baby inside, and when she did, you couldn’t help the smile on your face as Arthur breathed, “My goodness! Is that really-? How does it-? This is brilliant!”

“There’s Fred,” you said, your smile evident in your voice as the doctor began telling Arthur all about how the machine worked.

When you and George got back home after the appointment, you grabbed some loose bills from your purse and handed them to George, saying with a laugh, “I really thought he would cry when he saw the ultrasound! If not for seeing Fred, for the Muggle technological feat!”

“I told you it would be when he heard his heartbeat, but someone didn’t listen,” he said teasingly as he pulled you into a sweet kiss.

“Well I’m just glad he got to be there,” you said after the kiss ended. You laughed quietly before adding, “Gosh, your mum nearly threw a fit when she saw the stitches on my leg after my surgery, I’m kinda scared of what her reaction is going to be when I’m at the hospital having him. What, with all of the monitors and medications and everything… It’s a far leap from St. Mungo’s.”

“Which is why if you want her to wait to see us until after he’s born, we can make that happen,” George told you. He stood behind you and wrapped you in a hug before saying, “I know she’s been warming up to Muggle things, but she’s spent her whole life relying on magic, it’s hard to change her mind on some things.”

“I know, and I’m not trying to change that, I just want to make sure things go smoothly,” you said as you relaxed into his embrace.

“And if they don't, that's okay too. As long as Fred gets here safe and healthy,” he said, giving you a kiss on the temple as his thumb ran up and down on your bump.

“That’s what matters most,” you agreed. The two of you spent a few more moments in each other’s arms until you heard the knock on your front door indicating that your parents were there for dinner and to hear about how the appointment went.

March rolled around, and you were definitely feeling all thirty weeks of your pregnancy weighing on you. You sighed in frustration and felt hot tears begin to prick at the back of your eyes as you gave in and tossed a pair of socks across the room in defeat. The socks barely missed George as he crossed through the doorway to take off his dress robes and change into something more comfortable for the evening. “Woah, what did those socks do to you?” he asked with a chuckle as he hung his travelling cloak on a hanger and placed it in its proper spot.

“I’m so big I can’t even put my own socks on!” you replied, your voice breaking at the end of your sentence. You sighed and began rubbing the heels of your hands into your eyes to try and stop the tears from flowing. You couldn’t cry over this again, it would be the third time this week you got upset over how you looked, and you were beginning to feel like a burden to George for getting so worked up over it. It was just…there were always relentless thoughts running through your head about how you looked so different now… How maybe you wouldn't look the same after… How George probably thought you looked nowadays compared to before…

Your insecure thoughts were interrupted when you finally registered George kneeled in front of you, holding your hands in his as he whispered your name to get your attention. “There she is,” he said with a soft smile as your eyes zoned back into reality. He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it before adding, “My beautiful, strong, brilliant, one-of-a-kind wife whom I love.”

“George…” you lightly chastised at the words, heat creeping up your neck in response.

“It’s the truth,” he said. “Not to mention sexy,” he added with a cheeky wink and smirk.

“I’m not-” you tried before your words were stopped by a kiss from George.

“You’re not finishing that sentence,” he said firmly as he stood up and grabbed your hand. “Now, would you like me to draw you a bath? You’ve had a stressful week with directing rehearsals, and I can tell you’re getting in your own head again.”

“George, you don’t have to-”

You were once again cut off by a kiss before he told you, “You need to relax. Now, what scent bubble bath were you thinking? I’ll brew you a cuppa while we wait.”

“Lavender would be nice,” you said quietly as you cast your gaze to the ground, a tear streaking down your cheek at your husband’s kindness.

“Then lavender it is,” he said. He guided you to the bathroom that connected to your bedroom and waved his wand a couple of times to start the water and summon the lavender bubble bath to pour into the tub. George gently grabbed your chin and directed your gaze to meet his and he kissed you once more before telling you, “I love you. I’ll be right back.”

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion.

When George returned with your cuppa, he placed it on the counter nearby and began helping you out of your clothes and into the bath. He lightly ran his hands along your curves and whispered, “So beautiful,” as he held your hand and assisted you into the tub. As you submerged into the just warm enough water, you could feel the tension start to leave your muscles and you felt much lighter as the water began to surround you. “There you go, just relax,” George murmured. He kissed your shoulder gently before he began massaging them, causing an even more content sigh to leave your lips as your eyes closed.

As you enjoyed the massage and took in the soothing lavender smell, you attempted to push aside all thoughts of your play which was nearing time for the company to begin full rehearsals. You also tried to abandon all thoughts about voice lesson plans for the upcoming week, and even thoughts about the upcoming delivery of Fred. You simply tried to hone in on the timbre of George’s voice as he spoke sweet nothings while taking care of you.

During your soak, besides massaging the tension from your shoulders, George also took the time to shave your legs which you hadn’t been able to since your belly started getting bigger and bigger. After the water and suds all drained from the tub and George helped you dry off, he applied your favourite lotion all over your body and slipped a silk nightie on you. He helped you into bed as well before grabbing the socks you had tossed away in frustration earlier and slipped them on your feet. They were a fuzzy pair that Molly had knitted you, and on overwhelming days like today, they helped you ground yourself.

“Feel better?” George asked as he climbed into the bed beside you, pulling you into his embrace.

“Much, thank you…” you whispered, tears beginning to run down your cheeks. You sniffled and wiped them away, telling him, “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, George…”

“You being exactly who you are is what you did,” he replied, running a hand up and down your upper arm gently. “Taking care of you is the least I can do. You’re carrying our child, for Merlin’s sake! You deserve for this to be a nightly occurrence.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you said with a quiet laugh as you relaxed into George’s side.

The rest of the night was spent in each other’s arms, simply enjoying one another’s company. In your relaxed state, you fell asleep without even knowing it, and for the night George was your pillow. He didn’t mind one bit though, especially when he got to feel his baby moving around in your belly. As George closed his eyes, he had a content smile on his face, and he dreamt of how things would be once Fred came into the world in a few short weeks.

“Okay, everyone, once more from the top of the scene with those things in mind please!” you called out to the performers on the stage in front of you, who nodded and began resetting props on the stage.

You placed a hand on your bump and let out a slow breath as you watched the cast reset, and jumped when a voice broke into your thoughts suddenly. “How are things going? Have you gotten them into shape yet?” asked the voice of your co-director Madeline who had taken a few weeks off to take care of her sick father back in Ireland.

“They’re almost there, they just need to find their passion for the scene. I think we got it after the talk we just had,” you replied, flashing a bright smile in her direction.

As you turned toward her fully, her eyes gravitated toward your belly, and her eyebrows raised into her forehead. “You’re going to have that baby any day now!”

“Due date’s next week. I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t wait to get him out,” you admitted with a sheepish laugh as you rubbed your bump affectionately. “Not only will I get to see him, but then he can do his cartwheels outside of my body.”

Madeline laughed lightly before saying, “My money’s on him coming early.”

“Well, for rehearsal’s sake, let’s hope he comes right on time,” you replied, turning your attention toward the stage and queueing the actors to begin the scene again.

Later, when the cast and crew were taking the evening meal break, you were eating a tea sandwich when you felt a cramping in your stomach. You let out yet another deep breath as you waited for it to pass, and when it did you finished your sandwich slice and walked away from the table in search of some tea. Before you could locate any though, Madeline made her way over with a concerned look on her face. “Everything all right? You look worried,” you said. “I saw you talking with Rich, is he still feeling okay with his part?”

“Rich is fine, it’s you I’m worried about,” she said, her eyebrows scrunching as she surveyed your face and then your stomach. “Are you having contractions? Do you think you could be in labour?”

“These? These are nothing, just Braxton-Hicks contractions, I’m fine-” you tried to say but were cut off when another one started. When the cramping started to subside, you grit your teeth a bit and smiled, telling her, “Nothing I can’t handle!”

“Nuh uh, you’re going to the hospital,” she said, grabbing your hand and leading you toward the door, calling out to the cast to take the rest of the evening off.

“Maddie, I-” you tried to protest, but were cut off.

“Your contractions are getting closer and closer together, and clearly they aren’t getting any better with walking because that’s what you’ve been doing all evening! You’re in labour and you’re going to have this baby!” she rebutted, digging for her keys. When she found them and unlocked the car, she escorted you into the passenger seat.

As you thought back to everything your doctor had told you, you relented, sighing as you fished your cell out of your cardigan pocket. Madeline navigated the traffic to your planned hospital and you selected a contact from your list, putting the device to your ear as you waited for the line to pick up. You let out a quiet sigh of relief when it did, and you found your voice trembling as you said, “Hey ‘Mione, I… I was just wondering if you could get in contact with George for me?”

“Of course, is everything all right?” Hermione asked, concern evident in her voice.

You let out a quiet laugh before you responded. “Well, I was at rehearsal and Maddie thinks I might be in labour, so we’re off to the hospital. I know George is probably busy at work, so I just thought that maybe you could get into contact with him easier than I could right now.”

“O-of course! I’ll head there right away!” she said, and while she was clearly shocked, you could also hear the smile in her voice.

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver,” you told her, another deep breath being blown out as another contraction hit you. “Make sure he gets the bag from home before he heads my way, it’s got everything in it. Thank you again.”

By the time you walked into the labour and delivery triage area, your water broke, and before you knew it, you were in a room getting changed into a hospital gown and being told that you were already nearly ready to deliver. Madeline held your shaking hand as you sat on the edge of the bed to begin signing papers the nurse handed you. When the nurse left and informed you that she would be back within a few minutes, you finally let your tears fall. “What’s wrong?” Madeline asked softly as she let go of your hand and ran a hand up and down your back.

“I-I’m just scared, what if they can’t get here in time? I don’t want to do this without George or Mum, and-” you started to say, but were cut short when the door opened after a quiet knock. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw George enter followed shortly by your mother and Arthur. “You made it!” you said, your voice tight with emotion.

“Of course I did, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” George assured you as he sat your hospital bag down beside the bed and leaned down to kiss your lips gently. He kneeled down and took your left hand in his, wiping tears from your cheeks with the other as he asked, “Are you ready?”

“I am now that you’re here,” you whispered, nodding excitedly before kissing him once again.

“Well, I think that’s my queue,” Madeline said as she stood from the bed beside you and began walking toward the door. “Keep me updated. I can't wait to meet the little guy!”

“Will do!” you called to her as she opened the door and exited, leaving you with your family.

Your mum took Madeline’s place beside you and pulled you into a hug, telling you, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Wait til he’s here to say anything like that,” you joked as you hugged her back. You relaxed into her embrace and added, “I’m glad you’re here, though.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” she replied, pulling away from the embrace. “You dad’s finishing up at work and then he’ll be waiting until he’s cleared to come see you three.”

“And I told Molly that I would go get her when things have settled down a bit,” Arthur said. “Thank you for letting me be a part of this, I can’t wait to see things done the Muggle way!”

“Well you’re in for a treat then,” you said with a quiet laugh. When you finished that statement, there was another knock at the door and your nurse came in with a smile on her face.

“Hello everyone! And who may you all be?” she asked as she washed her hands and donned her gloves before approaching the bed with a couple of devices in her hands.

“This is my mum, husband, and father-in-law,” you replied, pointing to each person in turn. You looked at the devices in her hands and asked, “What are those?”

“Oh these are just devices to tell us how baby is doing in relation to your contractions,” she replied as she helped you sit up so she could fasten the belt around you. When she got the sensors placed where she needed, a monitor above your head turned on and the nurse pointed out, “Now, there is the baby’s heartbeat and the line below it will show your contractions!”

“Fascinating!” Arthur said as he glued his eyes to the monitor.

The nurse laughed light heartedly before telling you, “You progressed quite far into your labour before coming in, so I don’t exactly trust your pain tolerance. That’s why we’re putting you on the monitor, just to make sure things are running smoothly and to help determine how far along you are.” You nodded and let out a huff of amusement at the comment as she walked out, promising that the anesthesiologist would be with her next time for the epidural.

“Doesn’t trust your pain tolerance?” George asked when she was out of the room.

“I really didn’t think they were that bad,” you said as you relaxed into the bed once more, only cringing a little bit as another contraction hit you. Something dawned on you though, and you kept your voice low as you said, “Now that I think about it, my pain tolerance has been a lot higher since…”

“The Cruciatus curse…” Arthur finished for you as he dragged his eyes away from the monitor when your contraction ended.

“Exactly,” you said. You laughed a little louder this time though and said, “However, I don’t plan on enduring pain like that again, so I’ve opted to be numbed for this.”

“Mum would be losing her mind,” George joked as he pulled a chair up beside your bed and took your hand in his.

“But I, on the other hand, can't wait!” Arthur said, which made the tension in the air lift as everyone laughed at his excitement.

A few minutes later, the nurse returned with the anesthesiologist. As he set up his supplies, the nurse asked, “Okay, Dad, how are you with needles?”

“Oh, I, uh, I guess I’ve never thought about it,” George replied, being taken aback by the unexpected question.

“Well, if you don’t think you’ll pass out, I’ll have you support Mum while we get the epidural in, that sound okay?” she asked. “We find it that mums are more comforted by their partners than us nurses, but of course if you start to pass out, I will ask you to sit.”

“Got it,” George said hesitantly as he took his place in front of you, now with your legs dangling over the side of the bed.

“Okay, now Mum, just lean forward into Dad’s arms and you’ll feel a big poke when I put the needle in,” the anesthesiologist told you and you complied, leaning forward into George’s embrace.

“Deep breaths you two. Don’t lock your legs, Dad,” the nurse said from her place a few steps to the side of George.

As you and George breathed deeply together, he looked down at the needle the man was poking into your back and his eyes widened at the size of it. When he did, he suddenly felt his head get fuzzy, so he closed his eyes and snuggled into your hair, placing a kiss to the crown of your head as he did. George felt you flinch so he assumed the needle was in, and within seconds the man behind you said, “Okay you two, the catheter’s in! We’ll get you hooked up to the meds and you’ll be numbed up pretty quickly.”

“Thank you,” you replied in a strained voice, letting out a deep breath as another contraction hit you.

Once everything was done, you began to lean back onto the bed when George stopped you, saying, “Wait, the needle!”

“Closed your eyes huh?” the anesthesiologist asked with a good natured chuckle. “The needle is just to penetrate the skin and get into the epidural space, it’s out now, no worries.”

“Oh, got it,” George said with a relieved sigh leaving his chest before he began helping you get comfortable on the bed once more.

When he got you situated, the nurse smiled once more before telling you, “Okay Mum, now you’re progressing nicely, and with the epidural you won’t feel as much. But if you feel the need to push, you call me okay?”

“Sounds good,” you replied.

“And Dad, just keep doing what you’re doing to make her comfortable, and I think we’ll be done within the next few hours!”

“That I can do,” George replied, sitting back down in his chair beside you.

Around half an hour later, you sighed in contentment as the effects of the medication kicked in and the cramping and pain of labour began to subside. George smiled and squeezed your thigh, but when he didn’t get a response, he asked, “You okay?”

“Huh?” you asked, opening your eyes and looking in his direction. You looked down at his hand and laughed quietly before saying, “Oh, that. I can’t feel anything down there, love.”

“Nothing?” George asked, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

“Nothing!”

“Blimey, the wonders of Muggle medicine!” Arthur said as he wandered over and wiggled your feet to see if you could feel it. You laughed as he did, and your mum began telling everyone how it was to give birth to you without the medication you were on.

“So when Molly gave birth to the twins, they had to cast the Imputerable charm on the area of the ward because it was such a hard delivery!” Arthur said with a laugh as he finished telling yet another story of how birthing worked at St. Mungo’s.

You laughed lightly and squeezed the hand of a blushing George, and leaned over to kiss his reddened cheek. When you did though, you felt a strange sensation wash over you and you whispered to George, “The baby…”

“What about the baby?” George asked, eyes wide as he sat up straighter in his chair.

“Is he coming? Do you need to push?” your mum asked as she and Arthur stood up from their place on the room’s couch.

“I… I think so,” you replied in a breathless whisper.

A wide grin spread over her face as she swooped over to wrap you in a hug for a few moments before saying, “Okay, come on Arthur, let’s give the kids some space. I’ll send the nurse back in here, honey.”

“Thank you, Mum,” you whispered, wiping a tear from your cheek as you watched her leave the room.

“Are you ready for this?” George asked as he took your hand in his once more.

“I’m scared, but I’m ready,” you confirmed, a small smile on your wavering lips.

“You’ll do amazing, and I’ll be right here by your side the whole time,” George told you, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Within moments, the nurse came in and began pulling back your covers to see what was going on. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ shape before she ran to the door and shouted for someone to call the doctor. “Okay, Doc is just down the hall and coming here, he is just about ready to come out!” the nurse told you as she began moving the pieces of the bed so your legs would be in the proper position for the delivery.

When the doctor came in, everything happened in a blur of pushing, some pressure, and lots of encouragement from George and the nurse. Soon enough, it all ended with the sound of your baby’s first cry as he finally arrived! Assessments were done on both you and the baby, and within a few short minutes you were relaxing back into the bed with the little bundle of joy that was Fred on your chest. “Welcome to the world, Freddie,” you whispered as you kissed his little forehead and he snuggled into the warmth of your chest. You looked at George who had tears in his eyes and whispered, “Your dad’s happy to finally meet you!”

“That I am, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure no one ever hurts you. I promise,” he mumbled, his voice wavering as he undoubtedly was thinking about his little boy’s namesake.

The two of you bonded with Fred over the next hour, both doing kangaroo care with him during that time. After you worked with the lactation nurses to get Fred to latch to begin eating for the first time and he ate successfully for a few minutes, your primary nurse came into your room to check on you. “How are we doing? Feeling okay Mum?” she asked as she put on her gloves.

You let out a quiet sigh as you held a now sleepy Fred close and admitted, “I feel a little light headed…”

“Oh, okay, let me just check something,” she said quietly before pulling your covers back to assess everything going on down there.

Within seconds, she was massaging your belly and hitting your call button to get some help in the room. “What’s going on?” you asked, eyes wide as another nurse came in and began helping your nurse set up an IV pump and another rolled in a cart of supplies.

“You’re bleeding a bit more than we would like you to be right now, so we’re just going to massage your uterus and give you some meds to make sure you’re contracted so the bleeding stops, okay?” she asked in a calm manner as she began working in tandem with her team in relative silence.

“B-bleeding?” you asked, feeling your heart speed up at the words. You had read about postpartum haemorrhage and it was one of the things you had been hoping wouldn’t happen to you after delivering Fred…

Seeming to sense your stress, Fred began fussing on your chest and your nurse smiled softly at both you and George, telling him, “Dad, if you could please take baby for a few minutes while we work. Feel free to step out in the hall if you want.”

“George, I’m scared…” you whispered as you handed Fred over with shaking hands.

“I’m not leaving,” he replied as he got Fred comfortable on one arm and held your hand with his free hand while he bounded the baby gently.

“Thank you,” you replied in a shaky voice. You turned your head away from the team working on your right side and focused on your little family on your left as you tried to keep your breathing as even as possible, all things considered. After a few seconds of looking into George’s comforting eyes, you began to close yours and relax into the pillow behind you.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t close your eyes. Keep looking at us,” George said urgently which prompted you to snap them back open. “There you are,” he said with a smile on his lips. “Just keep those eyes open and stay with us, okay?”

A few hours, a unit of blood, and a bag of oxytocin later, you were on your way to the postpartum unit of the hospital to be monitored until you and Fred were both ready to discharge. As you held your baby close and relaxed into George’s embrace, your head turned toward the door when you heard a knock and a few familiar voices entering the room.

The first to visit the three of you was of course both sets of parents, all of whom gushed over Fred and passed him around amongst themselves carefully as you all chatted, omitting the part about you almost bleeding out from Molly… After both sets of grandparents got their first fill of baby time, the next few hours were spent with scattered visits from family and friends alike. You drifted in and out of naps during this time, but were grateful to George for entertaining the company and ensuring that you got the rest you needed after everything you just went through.

The next few weeks were definitely a transition period for the both of you, and you and George learned to manage time for yourselves, the baby, and your jobs. Things were rough going at first, but with help and advice from friends and family, and of course a whole lot of magic on George’s part, the two of you got into the swing of things and were beginning to navigate the transition into parenthood with only a few mishaps here and there. The last year had been a hard one on your mental health, but seeing the little miracle you and George made as you put Fred down to sleep at night made it all feel like it was worth it.

******

brooke’s chapter commentary: my totally honest disclaimer for any inaccuracies - i wrote this when i was doing a class that had a lot to do with the pregnancy and birthing process, i have never had (nor do i plan on having) kids, so🤣 OKAY THE BERTIE BOTS SCENE I THOUGHT WAS SO CUTE, AND IT HAPPENED SO ORGANICALLY! I TEARED UP WHEN IT ENDED UP ON MY DOC BC ITS SO GOSH DARN CUTE 🥰😭 you guys, the scene with the bath was EVERYTHING to me! i just KNOW that george would be the absolute sweetest and most caring husband to his wife, especially on her bad days. when i was writing this chapter, it never occurred to me until then that wizards likely have never really dealt with needles? like…they have magical cures and fixes for everything, they don’t seem to need things that require needles, so that was a fun thought to run with. baby fred is here!! i’m so in love with their family dynamic, i CANT😭🥰 also, yes we stan Molly, but it’s absolutely canon in the books that she has a mistrust of muggle medicine, so it was included🤣

as always, likes and comments are appreciated! xo, brooke <3

taglist: @willowlovestheweasleys @v1ckycheesue @superduckmilkshake @5starl1ght @oneandonlybbygrl

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #harry potter fanfiction #boy dad george weasley #husband george weasley

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bad268 · 7 months ago

Note

Heeeyyyy🙋🏼‍♀️Could you maybe write something for Ralf Aron?

Like y/n and he are together and y/n surprises him at a race after a long time in which they didn’t see each other?

New Team Principal (Ralf Aron X Parent! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/WEC

Requested: Clearly (hehe i love this)

Warnings: Not a warning but gender not specified (referred to as Baby Ash) or how the child was born. Could be natural or adopted.

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1285

Summary: A surprise visit from the new team principal? Who's that?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~ (^Pinterest)

You both knew taking care of a newborn was going to be time-consuming and eventually, Ralf would need to go back to work. Thankfully, Baby Ash came home during a break in the calendar, so you had Ralf’s full attention and support for the first three weeks. Looking back, it was great having your husband there every day because it made caring for your new child easy, and you were able to get a schedule set up before he would inevitably go back to work.

Alas, it did have to happen. You were prepared for it, but that did not make it any easier when you had to drop Ralf off at the airport. He did still have a team to run for the race weekend. Then for the next weekend, and the next. Then it was in-season testing and another race weekend. It was just nonstop.

Facetime only did so much for keeping in contact. Especially with timezone changes, it was hard to find times when you, Ralf, and Baby Ash were awake at the same time. That’s when you decided you would plan to surprise him for one of the races.

There were a couple of races coming up that you could, theoretically, do. You also got approval from your doctor to have your baby fly, so all was set. You wanted to surprise everyone, so you told no one. Not even Paul, who said he would help you if you wanted to fly out.

Surprisingly, the flight was not bad. It was only about 3 hours, and Baby Ash slept the entire time. It could not have been any easier. You got in and out of the airport in no time, and you got a taxi to the hotel you knew Ralf was staying at. That’s when you called Paul.

“Hey, what’s up?” Paul said immediately after he answered the phone. He was lying on his bed in the hotel room he was sharing with Ralf while Ralf had to get to the track early for a meeting.

“By chance would you have Ralf’s room key?” You asked as you moved to the side of the lobby.

“I am in Ralf’s room, why? By chance would you be trying to surprise Ralf this weekend?” He asked, already getting up and running toward the elevator and going down to the lobby. As soon as he saw you, he ran up to you, hugged you, and immediately took Baby Ash from your arms, “No way! Ralf’s gonna freak out when he sees you!”

“That��s the plan,” You joked as you followed him up to the room so you could drop off your luggage, feed and change the baby, and freshen up before heading out to the track. It was fairly easy to get through security. Paul took you through the back where you knew a couple of the guards, so they let you through without much resistance other than looking through your baby bag for safety reasons.

You two immediately booked it to the Prema garage where Ralf was still in the meeting, so you thought of a funny way to surprise him. What better way to surprise Ralf than to set Baby Ash up with some headphones on the pit wall?

Baby Ash had started sitting up all my themself recently, but you still wanted to have something or someone around them just in case something happened. You notice JM Correa sitting in the garage listening, so you enlist his help.

“Juan, I’ve got a proposition!” You asked as you walked up to him. He took his headphones off when he saw you approach him, and stretched his arms out, asking to take Baby Ash. “If I put headphones on Baby Ash and set them up at the pit wall, will you make sure they don't fall and pretend they’re your new boss? We’re trying to surprise Ralf.”

“I’m so down!” JM responded enthusiastically, causing Baby Ash to giggle as they wiggled in his hold. “I’ll set them up while you hide. I heard the meeting just ended, so he should be here any minute.”

“I’ll just hang back in the garage,” You chuckled as you reached out to briefly grasp Baby Ash’s little hand. “I want to see his reaction.”

“Better record it,” JM laughed as he walked over to the pit wall to set Baby Ash on one of the chairs, facing the endless screens. He also put a pair of headphones on their head, sizing it as close to their head size as possible, before taking a quick selfie of them together. He also loaded up one of the screens to the Dancing Fruits video, so she would have something to focus on.

All the while, Paul was waiting outside the meeting room for Ralf. He had been texting you back and forth and knew the plan. He was going to lead Ralf to the pit wall to find Baby Ash before you would pop out. He was just putting his phone back in his pocket when Ralf walked out in a rush.

“Hey, Ralf!” Paul said as he ran to catch up with him, “When were you planning to tell me there’s a new team principal?”

“There isn’t one?” Ralf answered with another question as he slowed down to walk in step with Paul. “What do you mean?”

“I heard there’s a new Prema team principal,” Paul explained, remembering the script you had given him, “I think they’re on the pit wall with JM now.”

“I’ll just call Rene,” Ralf replied with a frown as he started to pull out his phone. “He’ll know what’s going on.”

“Rene is busy with the F3 race going on,” Paul thought of quickly as he pushed Ralf’s phone back down. “The race just stared and you know Rene doesn’t look at his phone during a race. Why don’t we just go see who it is on our own? How bad can it be?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Ralf mumbled as he sped-walked towards his, well not his anymore apparently, garage. He saw JM standing beside someone in the chair, but he couldn’t clearly see who it was. Ralf took a deep breath so as to not sound too bitter before he walked over. “Is this the new team principal?”

“Yup,” JM said enthusiastically as he stepped aside, so Ralf could see who was sitting there. That’s when he knew this was a joke and his eyes fell upon his Baby Ash, wearing his headphones. All three of them broke out in laughter as Baby Ash played with the chord attached to the headphones before giggling along with everyone. That’s when Baby Ash looked up and saw their father and reached their arms out for Ralf to hold them. Ralf promptly picked them up and bounced them in his arms.

“Is Baby Ash reporting for duty?” He teased the baby as he tickled their belly. “Where’s Y/n? I know Baby Ash didn’t get here on their own?”

“I was off recording,” You chuckled as you walked up behind Ralf, wrapping your arms around his waist as you stood on his other side to gaze at him and your child. Baby Ash was enjoying all of the attention as you booped their nose. “We thought we could surprise you.”

“Well, I’m surprised,” He chuckled as he leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you for traveling for me. You have no idea how much I missed you two.”

“If it’s even half as much as I missed you,” You teased as you leaned up to kiss his lips before leaving a small gap between you, “I have an idea.”

~~~~~

#ralf aron x reader #ralf aron x you #ralf x reader #ralf x you #ralf aron #paul aron #formula 1 #formula 2 #formula 3 #world endurance championship #wec #f1 #f2 #f3 #wec x reader #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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bqstqnbruin · 5 months ago

Text

Matt Rempe Teacher AU

I have actually written four little teacher au blurbs in less than 24 hours out of sheer boredom but I don't like one of them so here's the third one you get have fun

Teacher AU Series

Warnings: None

WC: 1848

“What are you doing?”

Leighton jumps when she hears his voice, not noticing the door even being opened as she scrambled to turn off her music so she could have a conversation with him. “I’m putting together first day of school gifts for my homeroom.”

Matt scoffs, inviting himself over to her lab tables, shuffling through the things she had scattered on the black table tops. “Why?”

“It’s their last first day of school, I wanted to do something nice for them.”

“Something nice is a plastic lei, beads, and a wooden letter?”

“A: it’s something small for the first day, it doesn’t have to be that elaborate. B: I spent time painting these their class color and it’s their initials, not just a random letter. And, C: have you seen them on spirit day? They eat this kind of shit up,” Leighton scolds him, trying to push past him to get the bags together. She knew her homeroom students. She knew this was the kind of stuff they loved to get, and she wanted to make their last first day just a little bit more special if she could. Not to mention, it was all in a reasonable budget for having to make fifteen gift bags.

Matt scoffs again, making Leighton’s blood boil. “They’re seniors in high school, not first graders.”

“And what do you do for your homeroom?”

“Nothing. I don’t have to buy their affection the way you apparently do.”

“It’s not buying their affection if they were giving it to me for free to begin with. Now get out and go back to your own classroom, you have your own prep to do before students show up on Monday,” she says, trying as hard as she could to physically shove him out of her classroom, unable to see the smile on his face.

“Did it already.”

Leighton steps back, throwing Matt off balance. “How?”

Matt shrugs, a smirk on his face. “It’s not that hard. I don’t need things on my walls and Mary already ordered all the supplies we need for this year when we were clearing out the budget last year.”

“I don’t understand how you don’t decorate your classroom at the beginning of the year.”

Matt gestures to the posters behind her desk, knowing that they were things for her homeroom from the previous years that she put back up every year. “I hang up students' work new each year. Let them decorate my classroom, not me.”

“Get out,” Leighton says again, Matt laughing on his way to the door.

That Monday, Leighton’s seniors loved their gifts, their classmates from Matt’s homeroom coming flying into her classroom to show off their brand new Stanley’s with their names embossed on them. Personal, flashy, and expensive. Not to mention, one of Matt’s girls, Vikki, placing one with the name ‘Ms. Cunningham’ on her desk, just for her.

As soon as her students left, she took the cup with her down to Matt’s classroom. “What is this?” she asks, bursting into his classroom, thankful that he was alone in his room instead of with a student to see this.

“It’s called a water bottle. Kind of. I don’t know if it counts as a bottle or a cup, but either way, you drink water from it.”

Leighton groans, turning on her heels before he can say anything else. She put the cup in one of the cabinets in her desk, hoping she could forget about its existence since she couldn’t forget about the person who gave it to her.

She avoided Matt as much as possible, knowing that anything he did would get under her skin and make her irrationally angry, a pit in her stomach whenever she saw him.

Christmas was coming up, Leighton already planning her Christmas gifts for her homeroom. They had gotten together and bought her a Ranger’s jersey with the name her favorite player from her childhood on the back for her birthday (apparently getting a bunch of anonymous students in on the gift to get around the ‘teachers can’t accept gifts of more than $25 from their students’ rule in the handbook), so she had to do something for Christmas.

She found someone on Etsy who made personalized necklaces for not much money, letting her put their names, their school name, and their graduation on charms for them. She stayed a little later before their last day of the calendar year to wrap their gifts for them, enjoying the peace she had in her room with the lights slightly dim, the sun already set, and Christmas music playing over her speakers.

“Now what are you doing?” Matt asks, his coat and hat already on, his keys in hand. Good, he had to be leaving soon.

“Wrapping my homeroom’s Christmas gifts. And you look like you were leaving, so you should do that.”

“Let me help,” he says, putting his bag down and taking off his hat. “It’s already after five, the faster this gets done, the faster you can go home and plan my demise or something.”

Leighton tries to hide the smile she wanted to mirror back to him. “That would imply that I think about you outside of work.”

Matt shrugs, taking the necklace for Leah and wrapping it with more care than she had been. “I think about you outside work.”

Leighton rips the wrapping paper, clearly caught off guard. “What?”

“Yeah, wondering why you do this type of stuff.”

Leighton swallows. “A couple of my girls' parents don’t have a ton of money. They can’t really afford to get them all the nice gifts that some of the other girls get. At least this way, I know they get something, and I know that it’s something that’s just as nice as the other girls get. I was that kid who would watch their friends opening these amazing presents, knowing that I would never get anything that nice until I could afford it myself.”

“So you buy yourself nice things now?”

Leighton laughs. “No. I spend pretty much all my extra money on stuff for the girls. Especially since it’s their senior year, it’s my last chance with this group to show them that there are people out there who are willing to do nice things for them.”

“What do the parents think?”

“Most of them don’t care. But the ones that don’t have the money told me they like that there’s someone who can surprise their girls. They do what they can, but they can’t do everything, you know?”

Matt nods, giving her a soft smile.

The next morning, her homeroom girls, again, loved their Christmas gifts, only to be interrupted, again, by Matt’s girls rushing in. Soph showed Leighton that Mr. Rempe had picked up every girl their Starbucks or Dunkin orders that morning, along with a Christmas ornament that had their name, the school name, and their graduation year on it, shockingly similar to the necklaces from her. Katherine hands her the same; her coffee from Dunkin and an ornament with Ms. Cunningham and the year she started teaching there on it.

Her students leave, and again, she storms down to Matt’s classroom, the Dunkin and ornament in hand.

“What is the matter with you?”

Matt turns to the student sitting at one of the tables, making up a test. “Jessie, I’ll be right back,” he says, grabbing Leighton’s wrist and dragging her into the prep room connected to his classroom, sending a shiver down her spine that she decided to ignore. “That’s an interesting way to say thank you to someone who got you a Christmas gift after telling them you didn’t have anyone who bought you nice things.”

“You keep one-upping my gifts to my girls,” she points out. “You’re doing the exact thing I watched when I was a kid with my friends getting better stuff.”

Matt holds his hand up as if he were surrendering. “I like to get my students things I know they’ll like, just like you do.”

“You are an insufferable walnut,” she lets out, not sure what else she could really say knowing there was a student within earshot of them. “Do not come into my classroom unless you’re told to, please. I am begging you.”

She leaves again before he could say anything, throwing the Dunkin in his trash can so he could see she didn’t take it with her. She sits down in her chair and lets out a long sigh, opening the cabinet to throw the ornament in with the cup from the beginning of the year.

The rest of the year passed without much fanfare, Matt doing what he promised and leaving her alone. The last day of school and, therefore, graduation, was coming up quickly for the girls she had come to know so well over the last four years. She bought them custom wall art for their dorms next year that had their college colors on it. It was easily the most expensive and most difficult thing to get them, but it was the last thing she would get for them, it had to be special.

“Are you ok?”

Leighton nearly jumped out of her seat at her desk, dropping the pen she had been using to write a letter to Katie, one of the last letters for her girls she would write. “You’re like the mold on my ceiling that keeps growing back.”

Matt looks up above her, a horrified look on his face. “You have mold?”

“Why are you here?”

“I was heading out and I saw you were crying.”

Leighton holds her hand up to her face, the tears on her cheeks long unnoticed. It was easy to get emotional writing about her girls; she watched them grow from scared freshmen into the women they were today, ready to set out into the world and hopefully change it for the better. “I’m gonna miss this group.”

Matt nods, walking over to her desk, kneeling down in front of her and placing his hand on her knee. “They’re gonna miss you, too.”

Leighton laughs. “Do you remember your homeroom teacher from high school?”

“No, but I remember the ones who cared about me and my classmates.” The two of them sit there for a moment, Matt getting up off the ground. “Why did you never answer my questions?”

Leighton looks at him, clearly confused. “I have answered every question you asked me. All the annoying ones, too.”

Matt laughs, shaking his head. “No, the ones I asked you with the gifts.” She gets the gifts out of her desk, where they had been sitting all year. Matt takes the Stanley, opening the cup to reveal a note stuffed inside. He unravels what she thought was ribbon tied to the ornament that was another note. “I’ve been asking you to dinner all year,and you never said anything.”

“I ignored these gifts all year,” she says, bluntly. “I didn’t know you wanted to get dinner.”

“I would like more than just dinner, but I’ll settle for anything.”

#matt rempe #matt rempe fic #matt rempe au #new york rangers #new york rangers fic #new york rangers au #nhl #nhl fic #nhl au #hockey #hockey au #hockey fic #rangers #rangers au #rangers fic #teacher au

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