#as in he doesn’t love my mom anymore and wants to move away and split us all up

[coyoxxtl]

i didnt want to put this in my prev reblogs tags but like

my dad was a us army soldier that went to Iraq, and for a long time i thought he did good over there, or at least tried. like my mom said that he had locals thank him personally for his help. though now i wonder if he’s just, lying about all that. bc not only did he literally Come Back Wrong after his third deployment, over the years he slowly opens up about shit he deliberately never told me, like the time he and a few other soldiers were left for dead by his group, and he only survived because the locals helped him, if im remembering right. however, i wonder how true that all is, or rather does that make up for the other heinous shit he’s responsible for. i remember him telling me passively he tortured a man. so i Know he has skeletons in his closet, i know for a fact there’s shit he will take to his grave.

all those times i prayed for my dad to survive and come back home, was that at the expense of innocent Iraqis? could my dad dying out there saved someone? I’ll never know for sure, but it kinda points to that doesn’t it?

[5ugarand5pice]

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

(can we pretend it says silverstone instead of melbourne thank you)

Part 1: Dear Reader  | Part 2: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve | Part 3: coming soon

pairing: driver! reader x f1 grid

inspired by: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve by Taylor Swift (ik the song is unrelated but if anyone wants to cry over the possible Taylor and Joe split, my dms are open)

a/n: a couple months late but you asked and now you shall receive! thank you so much for all the love for Dear Reader, it means the world to me 🥹🤍 super sorry for going ghost (went thru a breakup, cried over a 🤢boy🤢 and tried to get my shit together) but i’m all good now and better than ever! definitely in my reputation era which means y/n will be too... soon. anyways, hope you like this and sending everyone hugs esp after the shitshow that was the aus gp (justice for carlos!!)

warning/s: a bit sad??? longer than i expected it would be but yes

If you would've blinked then I would've Looked away at the first glance If you tasted poison, you could've Spit me out at the first chance And if I was some paint, did it splatter On a promising grown man? And if I was a child, did it matter If you got to wash your hands?

The rest of your time in Monaco was spent coordinating with your team on possible moves forward in F1. Come Tuesday morning, you and Abi were on the way to your home country, a half-assed plan and bundle of nerves in your hands.

“It’ll be alright. You’ve got a kickass mom who’ll drag Christian’s ass to court and back if she has to and you also have me. You know I got your back— even if it means breaking a law or two.” Abi says, squeezing your hand twice as you make your way to your family home.

“For legal reasons, that was a joke.” you chuckle.

“Please, I’ll even help you bury the body.” your mom replies, giving you a small wink from the driver's seat.

You shake your head as you smile, the familiarity of the scenery as well as the playful conversations with your mom and Abi bring you a sense of comfort you had missed. It’s good to be home.

When your mom had pulled up to the driveway, your grandparents were already waiting by the door, a small banner written “welcome back home girls!” in your Nana’s penmanship.

“I missed you guys so much.” you almost cry out as you reach in for a hug.

“Our little racer isn’t so little anymore.” Nana coos.

“We watched your race in Austria, sweetheart. Almost forgot how much of a softie you actually are when I saw you drive.” Papa teases.

“Don’t tell outsiders that she’s a softie, we have a reputation to uphold over here.” Abi pipes, tone going high as she struggles with her bag.

“As if everyone doesn’t know that she’s a softie.” Nana says as she rolls her eyes affectionately.

You all chuckle as you finally make your way inside, Nana noting that she would have supper set up at 6pm.

The rest of the afternoon was spent settling in your respective rooms. Wandering around as you take in your surroundings, a picture frame on your dresser catches your attention.

The 2017 British Grand Prix.

Oh, God. If only you knew.

Oh, oh All I used to do was pray Would've, could've, should've If you'd never looked my way

You placed third at the Formula 2 British Grand Prix. Ahead of you was Charles Leclerc and your teammate, Norman Nato, respectively.

“You know, if he weren’t so cute, I would definitely be screaming at him for overtaking you like that.” Abi mutters as she hands you a towel.

“Please, we both know you’d probably use that as an excuse to make a move.” you playfully scoff as you wipe your face.

“I would,” she shrugs, “but I’m rooting for your enemies to lovers love story”.

“Oh, Abi.” you sigh, “Where did you get that idea?”

“Please, you’ve seen the way he looks when you pass by.” she giggles as she mocks what you assume were lovestruck eyes.

“Quit it. He doesn’t like me like that. He just” you pause, “has that charm.”

“Sure,” she grins, “but when you guys end up together, I’ll be mentioning this moment in my Maid of Honor speech.”

Before you can protest, Kenny Kirwan, your team manager, clears his throat behind you.

“Y/n, Abi, I’d like to introduce you to Christian Horner, the team principal of Red Bull Racing.” he tilts his head to his right.

“Christian, This is Y/n, this is our driver I’ve been telling you about. We’re lucky to have her in our team.” he continues, his smile faltering as you remain stoic.

“Hi. I’m Abi. Her social media manager and best friend.” Abi speaks up, breaking the awkward silence. She extends her hand, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Nice to meet you.” he grins, shaking her hand. “Congrats on second, by the way. I’m so proud of you.” he looks at you, engulfing you in what you suspect was one of those weird man clap hugs.

“Oh! Uh, thank you.” you smile, immediately pulling away. “I didn’t think you would watch my races.”

“I try to. You’ve been progressing well.”  he comments.

“Planning to win the championship, so, you know, gotta get those points.” you reply, shifting your weight between your legs.

“You can do it. You are your father’s daughter after all.” he smirks.

“Uhuh.” you wince.

Kenny does his best to ease the tension, raving about how he discovered your talent and how much potential you have to further in Formula 1.

“Well, it’s been lovely catching up with you but we really have to go. We promised Lorelei we’d be home before late to celebrate.” Abi interrupts.

“Oh! Of course.” he smiles awkwardly. “Um, before you go, maybe you’d want to go to the race tomorrow? I’d love to have you as my guest.”

“Sure. I’d like that. Abi’s my plus one.” you reply. “If that’s okay.” you quickly add, to which he smiles.

“Of course. Well, I’ll go ahead. Gotta get ready for FP3 and quali. You still have the same number?” Christian asks.

All you do is nod as he walks away, a dumbfounded Kenny following suit.

“Wait ‘til your mom hears about this.” Abi breaks you out of your trance, yanking your arm to lead you to your room.

I would've stayed on my knees And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil At nineteen And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven And now that I'm grown, I'm scared of ghosts Memories feel like weapons And now that I know, I wish you'd left me wondering

As it turns out, Formula 1 had a completely different vibe from Formula 2; the screams were louder, the air was hotter and everyone seemed more tense. However, no one was as tense as you.

“I don’t know Abi.” you sigh, your hands gripping the wheel. “What if it’s worse than yesterday?” you turn to look at her.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” she asks, eyes trained on the mirror as she applies yet another layer of lip gloss.

“His wife can hate me. I get run over. I run over someone. I make a fool out of myself in the paddock. I unintentionally ruin my chances of ever becoming a Formula 1 driver which will then stop me from achieving my dream of becoming a Formula 1 World Champion.” your grip tightening as you ramble on.

Abi glances at your hands, sensing that you were about to slip into one of your spirals. She immediately grabs a hold of those and squeezes twice. Breathe In.

“She’ll love you. You won’t be on the track. You won’t be driving. You can always apologize and flash your adorable smile. I won’t let you ruin your chances. You will become a formula 1 driver. You will become world champion. It’s going to be fun, trust me” her hands squeezing yours twice again. Breathe Out.

“Fuck it. Okay. Let’s do this.” you mutter, quickly closing your windows and stepping out of your car.

The two of you pass through the gates, feeling a bit out of place and out of your element as a guest. Christian gave the two of you a tour of the Red Bull hospitality, introducing you to the crew while at it. Although they all seemed nice, your stomach churned every time surprise would flash their face when Christian introduced you as his daughter.

When time was nearing the race, he excused himself to look for his drivers. Abi left as well, muttering something about finding the ladies’ room. That left you standing alone in a corner of the garage, too shy to add on to the hustle and bustle of the race day.

“You look lonely, want some company?” you hear a voice to your right.

“Oh! Um, sure. If you want.” you reply, flustered.

“Okay.” he heartily laughs, “So, are you here for a sponsor or something?” he asks.

“A personal guest? I think.” you chuckle, “It’s complicated.”

“Well, complicated, nice to meet you. I’m Daniel.” he grins, offering you his hand to shake.

“I actually know who you are.” you smile back as you shake his hand, “Not that I stalk you or anything! I’ve watched a few of your races.”

“I’m a driver too. Well, currently in Formula 2.”  you continue, embarrassment tinging your cheeks, “Y/n y/l/n”.

“Oh no, more young drivers!” he dramatically gasps, “Another reminder that I’m aging.”

“You don’t look a day over 70!” you joke, face immediately paling when you realize what you just said. “Oh God! I’m so-”, your apology cut off by Daniel's laughter.

“Oh, I like you. You’re funny.” he breathily sighs. “We can be friends now.”

“So sense of humor is part of your friendship checklist?” you tease, mentally thanking whichever angel God sent you. “Sadly you didn’t tick that box on mine.”

“Okay,” he pouts his lips. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” you roll your eyes.

“Chickens.”

“Chickens who?”

“Enkkk.” he voices out, mimicking a buzzer. “Owls hoot, chickens cluck.”

You purse your lips. “A for effort. We should be friends so we can work on your sense of humor, grandpa.”

Daniel scoffs and places his hands on his chest, feigning hurt.

“Daniel!” someone hollers. “Mate, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Damn it.” Daniel chuckles. “I really thought I was gonna win at hide and seek this week.”

“Christian says we have to go over some notes before the race” he goes on, clueless to your presence.

“Well, it seems I have to bid you adieu.” Daniel turns to you, bowing to add to your amusement. “Till next time, mademoiselle.”

Daniel leaves, heading to what you guess is their meeting room. The stranger follows him, sending you a sheepish smile, presumably his form of apology for interrupting your conversation. You wave him off with a smile, shouting a quick “Good luck!” as they pass.

If you never touched me, I would've Gone along with the righteous If I never blushed, then they could've Never whispered about this And if you never saved me from boredom I could've gone on as I was But, Lord, you made me feel important And then you tried to erase us

Despite both of the Red Bulls not being able to set foot on the podium, the garage still celebrated points; P4 for Daniel and P5 for his teammate, Max. Daniel, being Mister Congeniality, insisted (quite ruthlessly) that you come to the afterparty. This is how you and Abi ended up back in your room, flipping out over outfit options.

“I think we need to find you the perfect ensemble that screams I’m classy but I can be a slut if I want to.” Abi shouts from inside your closet, another batch of dresses being thrown towards the growing pile on the floor.

“I can’t look like a slut, Abi. My father might be there.” You mutter, setting up your makeup at the vanity.

As much as it bothered you, you knew better than to try to clean while Abi rummaged through your clothes. She once gave you an earful, going on about how messy people are creative geniuses. Thus, the artist shall not be disturbed.

“We’re trying to attract a driver and a driver’s seat, not your father. ” she gags, head peeking out of the closet. “Have you seen the way that Max guy looked at you?”.

“No, because I’m not looking at him.” you turn away. “Besides, I thought you were rooting for a certain Monegasque.”

“I am, but it's rude to disregard other contenders.” she shrugs, passing you a little black dress. “I think this is it. Max will definitely keep his eyes on you tonight.”

Just as always, Abi was right. When you had finally arrived at the pub, Max immediately spotted you, nudging Daniel towards your direction.

“Glad you can make it, mademoiselle.” Daniel greets you, reenacting his bow from earlier that day.

“Good evening, Sire.” you curtsy in response.

“May I escort thee to thy party chambers?” he continues his act, mimicking a posh accent you’ve mostly heard in period dramas.  

“I’d be most delighted, o good Sir.” you nod, locking arms with him and Abi with the other. “I’d like to introduce my companion. Sir Daniel, meet Lady Abigail.”

“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Abigail.” he waves with his free hand.

“You guys are crazy.” Abi snorts. “But likewise, Sir Daniel.”

He leads the two of you to a booth, excusing himself to get the two of you a drink. Max was still seated at the same spot, nursing a half empty bottle of beer.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation with Daniel before the race and for not introducing myself then.” he sheepishly smiles at you. “I’m Max.”

“Y/n, and no worries about that. It was a busy time.” you smile back. “This is my friend by the way, Abi.”

“Congrats on P5.” she nods at him, eyes immediately darting back to the crowd.

Before Max could get another word in, Daniel returns with drinks in his hands.

“Three margaritas for the lovely ladies and myself.” he gives a cheeky smile while passing out the drinks. “Another beer for Max.”

The four of you spent the night getting to know each other better. Halfway through your drinks, Daniel excuses himself to mingle with other guests. Abi excuses herself as well, saying she needs to get water but you later catch her wink at you while a guy talks her up at the bar. That bitch (affectionately).

“So, you come to races often?” Max asks, shifting your attention back to him.

“Mostly busy with my own but I watch you guys from time to time.” you smile.

“You race too?” he chokes on his drink.

“Currently in Formula 2, yes.” Handing him a tissue, you chuckle. “I kinda take offense at your shock.”

“Sorry, it’s just that-” he starts off, wiping off his lips. “I think it’s best if you don’t finish that sentence.” you giggle. “So, Max, how long have you been racing?”

“Well, pretty much ever since my dad thought I was old enough to start.” he mutters.

“So, since you were in the womb?” you joke.

“Pretty much.” he laughs. “You?”

“Similar. Got into it because of my dad as well but continued for myself.” you look down and fidget with your rings.

“Anyways,” he clears his throat. “What’s your favorite team?”

“Ferrari.” you grin. “Big Vettel fan here.”

“You were hanging out in the wrong garage then.” he muses. “Any way I can switch you over to my side?”

“I can be convinced,” you tease. “if given enough incentive.”

“How about I convince you over dinner?” he asks.

“Bold ask.” you giggle. “I’d have to think about that.”

Oh, oh You're a crisis of my faith Would've, could've, should've If I'd only played it safe

At that time, it seemed like the world was working in your favor. You had three consecutive podiums in Hungaroring, Spa and Monza. To add to the excitement, all of those races coincided with that of the F1 calendar, giving you more chances to hang out in the Red Bull garages.

The highlight, though, would be Monza. After winning first place, Christian invited you to breakfast to celebrate and “make up for lost time”. Abi, being the perfect balance of tough love and unending support, decided it’d be best for you to go alone, much to your dismay. You paced back and forth in the hallway, making a mental list of things to not bring up. Your thoughts come to a halt when you hear the click of the door, revealing Geri on her way out.

“Y/n! Christian’s inside. You can just head in.” she smiles, hand holding the doorknob.

“Oh, okay.” you breathe out. “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“It’s alright.” she chuckles. “He’s nervous too if that’s any consolation.”

“A little.” you giggle. “Um, I hope it’s not an intrusion. Me being here, I mean.”

“That’s nonsense!” she exclaims. “I just thought it’d be better for the two of you to talk things out alone. But, if you’re open to it, I’d love to get to know you better as well.”

“I’d like that.” you exhale. “Well, I think I should head in.”

“Of course.” she laughs, moving towards the lift. Turning around she says, “He’s trying, you know.”

Not knowing what to say, you offer a smile and head inside their room.

“Honey, do you think she’d want more food? Or is this enough?” you hear him shout.

Heading towards the dining area, you chuckle. “She left already. But, if you’re planning to feed the entire grid, maybe we can order more food.”

“Y/n.” he grins. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“You too.” you mutter, taking a seat opposite him.

“So,” he clears his throat. “I saw you win yesterday, congratulations!”

“Thanks.” you beam. “I heard you guys got P2 and P3 for quali. Must be looking forward to this race huh?”

“Quite.” he hands you a plate of waffles. “You still like this, right?”

“You remembered.” you gasp. “Even the strawberries and bananas.”

“I checked with your mom to make sure I got it right.” his cheeks tinges with embarrassment. “Gotta feed next year’s potential F1 driver well.”

“What?” your jaw drops. “Formula 1?”

“I introduced you to Franz Tost for a reason. He told me he’d love to have you in Toro Rosso next year.” he muses. “Maybe after that, you’d be racing for Red Bull.”

“HOLY SHIT!” you scream. “Is this for real?”

“Yes. It is.” he chuckles.

“Wait, who’s leaving?” you pause.

“Well, you’ll be taking Daniil’s seat. Carlos is moving to Renault for the last few races which leaves you, hopefully, and Pierre to complete the team next year.”

“Will they still be racing next year?” you ask.

“Carlos will be with Renault and I’m still unsure about Kvyat.” he says. “So, thoughts?”

“I’d have to discuss it with my team but personally, it’d be an honor.”

If clarity's in death, then why won't this die? Years of tearing down our banners, you and I Living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts Give me back my girlhood, it was mine first

You get up from your bed, hands still clutching the picture frame. Based on the dark view outside your window, you assume you overslept, completely missing supper. You tuck the frame in a random drawer. Out of sight, out of mind.

You make your way to the kitchen, moving quietly to not wake anyone else up. You almost scream when you see your grandpa sitting on a barstool, a faint light casting a shadow.

“Why are you up so late?” you clutch your chest, trying to calm your heart.

“Just thinking, you know.” he mutters. “Worrying about you.”

“Oh Pa, I’m alright.” you hug him, taking a seat at his side. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, kiddo.” he breathes out. “I heard you crying earlier. I know you’re not fine.”

You sit there in silence. Although you were raised so open to emotions, you still had trouble expressing your own, worried about worrying others.

“When you had your first accident during your karting days, I freaked out. I almost had your mom pull you out, thinking that the sport was too much for you.” he starts. “Then, on our way to the car, you walked up to me and Nan and said, ‘look Pa! I have battle marks! I can go against the tough ones now!’. You had tears in your eyes and a bruise on your leg and arm, but you looked so happy.”

He grabs both of your hands, rubbing his thumbs across the back. “I knew then I didn’t have to protect you, not because you didn’t need it. God knows I tried my best to do that. But, you didn’t want it. You were so good on your own.”

“Not to be a sexist asshole but there were times when I wished you chose a more common hobby. Ballet, piano, anything that didn’t have a high risk of me losing you.” he breathes out. “It wasn’t just the physical aspect too. I just- I see complete strangers say just cruel things about you and how you started losing bits of yourself.”

“You’ve grown, but I used to be able to still see that little racer in her braids and a goofy smile with a missing tooth. Now, it’s like you turned into this machine. I get that it’s a tough sport but I worry you will lose your heart and spirit.”

“I- ” you sniffle, “I love racing. I know that.”

“I can see myself doing this for the rest of my life but right now I feel so lost.” you continue. “I never would’ve imagined being this close to achieving my dreams and now it’s gone.”

“And it’s silly. Like, I know I have mom. I have you and Nan. Abi too.” you breathe in. “But he should’ve been part of my life as well. He’s not just mom’s friend from college who knocked her up. He’s my father.”

Although your tears start to flow, you continue. “As much as his absence hurt, I still tried. I gave up my childhood and other dreams I had to be here.”

“The worst part of it all was me thinking I finally got what I wanted. That I finally had a dad.” you exhale. “Then he sold my femininity to the world then threw me away.”

God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign I regret you all the time Oh, God rest my soul, I miss who I used to be The tomb won't close, stained glass windows in my mind I regret you all the time I can't let this go, I fight with you in my sleep The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign

Heading to the track felt like hell, dread filled your stomach and your hands were clammy with sweat. For your sake, Abi had ensured you wouldn’t get any press time and to your surprise, the teams agreed. Thinking about it now, you assume it was to save their dwindling reputation. Although your social battery was at an all time low, you still stopped to interact with your fans on your way to and from the paddock. As genuine as your gratitude was, your smile and thank you’s were visibly forced.

Everyone knew what this race weekend meant to you. You’ve been looking forward to racing in Silverstone, making it your goal of the season to go on the podium at your home race in your dream team. However, that seems like something only possible in an alternate reality. Despite Max’s pleas of you staying in Red Bull, you refused. You didn’t even bother telling him about your shift back to Toro Rosso or that you had moved out of his place. He’ll find out one way or another.

Thankfully, your schedule and distance from their garage minimized your interactions with certain members of the Red Bull team. Nevertheless, keeping true to your promise, you invited Daniel and a couple other drivers to meals in between practices, doing your best to front a “I’m doing better than you think” facade. You even reached out to Alex Albon, making it clear that there is no bad blood between you and that his replacement isn’t something you took personally.

Come Sunday morning, you have grown accustomed to your new (or old) team. Staring at the mirror gave you a sense of deja vu; the bold text of “Red Bull” across your suit mocked you. Wiping off a few stray tears, you can’t help but think about yourself from a year ago and what she would’ve thought about your situation. Would she laugh at the irony or would she cry with you?

You turn around when you hear a faint knock. Abi peeks in, a small smile gracing her face. “It’s almost race time. Are you ready?”

“Fuck no.”

a/n: as always, would love to hear your thoughts so feedback is more than welcome (but please be kind) !!!  to all that shared their love for Dear Reader, you have my heart and i hope this part did not disappoint 🫂 took a while to get here (seriously wrote a long ass piece then completely changed everything but ohwell) and i think i’m happy with the direction so far?? also, please let me know if you want to be part of the taglist or if it’s not working (still unsure abt how this works but i shall figure it out!)

taglist: @lighttsoutlewis @holy-macncheese-balls @for-fuck-sake-im-alive​ @idkiwantchocolatee @dan3avocado @aquamariene-me 

[all-risejd]

A New Judgment Chapter 1: WrestleMania 39 (Poly Judgment Day Fic)

Written by @scarletraine​ who can’t seem to remember to post to this godforsaken hellsite so has me post here for your enjoyment!

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Nessa sits between Aalyah and Angie ringside at WrestleMania at the request, at the insistence, of Rey and Angie. She is wracked with nerves having not seen Dominik or heard from Dominik in months since he broke up with her over text saying,

"Nessa we're over, I'm sorry but you don't deserve this, you deserve better." He never responded to anything else and ghosted her. Dom's family kept in touch, taking her out for her birthday and such, and filled in some blanks but nothing is making sense and she is conflicted and hurt. Nessa starts playing with the bracelet that Dominik gave her on their anniversary which belonged to his grandmother and means a lot to her and to his family. She starts to fidget more as Dominik makes his entrance and makes his way down to the ring.

Aalyah sees how nervous and fidgety Nessa is and gently places her hand on Nessa's shoulder.

"You look hot girl, he is going to regret what he has done," Aalyah tries to boost Nessa who only shrugs her shoulders, her black lace top corset matching her ripped jeans, accentuating what she feels are her best assets, but Angie was the one who picked the top and Nessa is suspicious as to their motives to bring her there tonight even though they have been nothing but welcoming to her.

Nessa's eyes never leave Dominik's body as he makes his way down to the ring and begins to strut as he enters it. He faces his mom, sister, and ex, his expression changes for a split second, Nessa would have missed it if she blinked, he almost looked remorseful. Aalyah sees it as well and leans over again so she could be heard by Nessa.

"Are you ok sis, I know this can't be easy for you," Nessa shrugs again, trying to keep from speaking so her voice doesn't break. Angie looks at the young girl she has grown to love as another daughter in the few years she was with Dominik, getting with him shortly before the pandemic when he met her at her job.

Everyone but Nessa stands as Eddie Guerrero's music comes on and Rey comes out in a lowrider being driven by Snoop Dogg. She doesn't see however, her eyes don't leave Dominik, the hurt evident on her face. Every time he looks over at his mom and sister he never meets her gaze. As Rey enters the ring Dom puffs out his chest acting tough. It isn't until the match starts that she says anything to them.

"I can't do this I'm sorry..." She moves to get up with tears in her eyes to leave but Angie grabs her wrist.

"Mija please. I know this is hard, but we are here to support them and hopefully put this mess to bed."

Nessa looks at her incredulously, "How can I support either. I still love Dom but he broke my heart and it is clear he doesn't feel the same anymore if he ever did. I love Rey like a father, and I can't side with either over the other I'm sorry." She tries to gently pull her arm away, but notices Angie's sad eyes flicker to the camera aimed at them and then to the fighting men in the ring. Nessa groans and plops down, hiding her face in her hands, realizing the commentators are probably having a field day with what she said. She jerks her head up as the crowd gasps and Angie and Aalyah stand up cheering. Nessa sees Dominik between the turnbuckles and a belt in Rey's hand. She stands up mortified no longer caring about the camera.

"Rey, don't do this please!" She screams out, her own past flashing before her eyes and not wanting Dom to experience this embarrassment. She feels Angie grab her arm again but yanks it away, looking on mortified as Rey spanks Dominik. She looks at Rey, betrayal evident on her face as Dominik rolls out of the ring and stands in front of them. Dominik barely glances at her and It is at that moment she realizes why they insisted on bringing her, why she is there. To distract Dom, to guilt him back to his family and her and she feels disgusted.

"What the hell was that?" Dominik yells at his mom over the crowd

"You deserve it!" Angie yells back, Aalyah standing beside Nessa, her drink cup in her hand. Dominik grabs it and glances down before throwing it at her, the liquid also getting on Nessa. Without thinking Nessa is halfway over the barricade holding Aalyah back.

"Aalyah no, don't get involved!" She struggles to say as she holds back Aalyah. Rey hops out of the ring and runs over to check on them only to be jumped by Dominik and sling shot into the corner of the ring. Dominik then grabs rey and slides him back into the ring and gets back in himself taunting the crowd smacking his shoulders.

Nessa stays standing, one hand on the barricade, the other biting her thumbnail, anxiously watching as the match goes on. She feels a gentle tug at her belt loop and looks down to see Aalyah gesturing to her seat. After a moment of debating, she takes her seat. She leans over to Angie, her hand covering her lips so people can't read them and whispers to her.

"Did you insist I come to try and manipulate or distract him so he will come back or lose?" She stares at Angie's face as she thinks of an answer. However, the hesitation is answer enough and she stands back up, unable to hide the betrayal she feels.

"I'm sorry sweetheart we are desperate," Angie tries to grab Nessa's hand only for it to be snatched away. She watches as Dom flings his dads neck on the top rope and jumps out of the ring, pulling Rey out before sauntering back over to them. Worry flashes across his eyes looking at Nessa's expression but he controls his expression and turns to his mom who is standing again.

"What are you going to do about it, you're not going to do anything!" he taunts his mom. Nessa can't hear anything else because she is so shocked when Angie slaps Dom who turns around shocked with his hand on his cheek. Rey comes up behind him and pushes him into the corner of the ring headfirst. He then turns and kisses Angie and mouths ' I'm sorry' to Nessa before throwing Dominik back into the ring. She flinches every time Rey lands a hit on Dominik and Cheers when Dominik kicks out of the Pin.

"Why are you cheering him on, he broke your heart?" Aalyah asks, annoyed and confused.

"Because you guys were wrong to bring me to guilt or distract him, that was wrong to me and him. He needs someone in his corner. Even with the heartbreak I couldn't go against him." Nessa sighs in relief as Dom kicks out of another pin.

"Not only did he dump you, he did it by text with no explanation. He doesn't deserve your support." Aalyah tries to convince Nessa to support her dad instead of Dominik.

"Because when you love someone, you want what is best for them even if it isn't you anymore. If Rhea and The Judgment Day is that for him and it makes him happy that's all I care about." She sees some people nod in agreement.

"I understand and respect that, but I can't condone the disrespect, he needs to be taught a lesson." Angie claps as Rey lands another hit.

"You mean disrespect like calling up your son's heartbroken ex who hasn't seen or heard from him in months, making her sit and watch him thrown around by his father in an attempt to manipulate or distract him. The same ex who has a history of being abused and you know," Nessa's rant silences any response Angie would have.

Nessa is on her feet and watches as Dom flings Rey and catches his neck on the top rope and falls to the mat. Dominik jumps out of the ring and pulls Rey out and tosses him to the ground and heads over to them again. Worried flashes over his eyes for a moment as he glances at Nessa before focusing on his mother who stood up.

"What are you going to do about it, you're not going to do anything!" he taunts, and Nessa can't breathe, a roaring in her ears blocks out what was said next as Angie slaps Dom who turns away holding his face and the crowd cheers. Nessa looks disgusted at Angie and Rey gets up and attacks Dominik and flings him into the same corner as before. With Dom on the ground writhing in pain Rey turns around and kisses Angie and mouths I'm sorry to Nessa who only glares at him as he tosses Dominik back into the ring.

She realizes she fully chose Dominik's side as she flinches every time Rey lands a hit and cheers when kicks out of the pin. Aalyah looks at Nessa annoyed,

"Why do you cheer him on? He betrayed us, betrayed you."

"Because he has no one in his corner and he deserves that. He didn't betray me, he broke my heart. There is a difference. You were wrong to bring me here to distract or manipulate him." She answers as Rey pins Dominik again. She sighs in relief as he kicks out again.

"Why do you want to be the one in his corner since he broke your heart and ghosted you." Aalyah pries.

Not caring about the cameras Nessa answers, "Because i still love him Aalyah, as i said a minute ago, so stop trying to turn me against him." Nessa begins to relax a little when Finn and Damien come out to the ring, she still worries for Rey. While she is hurt at their actions, she doesn't want either to truly hurt themselves or the other. She flinches as Rey is thrown into a turnbuckle and is seemingly knocked out.

"Dom get up and pin him!" Nessa yells out wanting this to be over. She doesn't see but Finn and Damien share a look and nod in an unspoken agreement. Finally, Dom pins his father and Nessa groans as Rey kicks out again. "I just want this to be over..." She mutters to herself before cussing and slapping the barrier as Rey hits the 619.

She is happy but conflicted as Damien and Finn hop onto the apron to interfere. Damien pulls Rey down and takes off his jacket, laying it in the corner of the ring. She is biting her nails again as they both fall out of the ring, the wind knocked out of them in front of Finn and Damien. The LWO runs out and down the ramp attacking Finn and Damien before they could interfere again.

"Come on Dom!!!" She cheers as he sets up his own 618 and then tries to finish with a frog splash and pins his father. She throws up her hands in frustration as Rey kicks out yet again. She stays silent as Dom unties the turnbuckle pad only to walk over to Damien's jacket as the ref retires the pad, from Damian's jacket Dom pulls out a chain. She shakes her head in worry only to be partially relieved as Bad Bunny runs up and snatches the chain out of Dominik's hand.

"Dom look out!" She yells out trying to warn him about Rey behind him who drop kicks him into another 619 set up and a pin. Her face drops as the ref counts to three and Dom is out of the ring by Damien and Finn in front of her. Angie and Aalyah already in the ring celebrating with him having jumped over the barricade. Rey gestures for her to join and she shakes her head no. Finn supports Dom's weight as Damien offers his hand and helps her over the barricade.

"Come with us to the back, Mamita."

"Only to make sure he is ok then I'll go," She responds, ignoring the nickname. They slowly back up the ramp, Nessa looking at Dom worried and looking at the ring betrayed. Once they are backstage and past the gorilla, she is still aware of the cameras following them so she controls her face and walks tall and is almost shocked when Damien speaks again, his deep voice calming to her.

"So, what do you do Mamita?" He asks as they near medical.

"She is a nurse." Dominik groans out the answer supporting more of his weight and Finn starts laughing.

"I'm a charge nurse now for the Pediatric unit at the hospital now Dom."

"Well thanks for your support of our Dom Dom." Nessa hears an Australian accent from behind them as the doctors and nurses check Dom. She turns and sees Rhea and gulps.

"Just wanted to make sure you are ok Dom Dom and to meet this beautiful lady who went against your family to support you." She says as she tucks a loose strand of Nessas hair behind her ear. She can't help the blush that forms. Rhea turns to Dom,

"You do have good taste Dom Dom, I'll see you all after my match" She then turns to Nessa again, "Please stick around till after my match I would like to discuss something with you after." Nessa stands there shocked as Rhea leaves the room.

"Your new girlfriend seems nice." Nessa comments as she watches the medical staff evaluate Dominik. Damien and Finn share the same look as before.

"Well actually we are all together, love." Finn responds and Dom stares at the floor avoiding Nessas gaze.

"Oh that's cool too. Thank you for looking out for him, just make sure you keep each other safe and happy." She accepts what Finn admitted.

"We heard what you said while we were waiting backstage and we admire your loyalty and devotion, mariposa." Damien places his hand on Nessa's shoulder and pulls her into a hug. Her immediate instinct was to pull away but she didn't. It was strangely comforting, even more so when Finn pats her back.

"You're fine Dominic, just going to be sore for a while." The doctor announces before leaving the room. She fiddles with the bracelet again before unclasping it and walking over placing it in Dominik's hand.

"Thank you for letting me be a part of the history of this. It means a lot. Goodbye, Dom." She kisses his cheek and makes her way to the door. She opens it and sees Triple H with his hand raised poised to knock. She steps to the side to let him in to talk to his talent.

"I'm actually here to see you miss?" he leads off silently asking what to call her.

"Klein," she hears a snicker from what she assumes is Damien, "But as you probably know my first name is Nessa." She shakes his outstretched hand.

"I want to talk about what happened out there," He explains and Nessas smile drops to a look of worry and the other three men in the room share the look. Noticing this Triple H clarifies, "You aren't in trouble, but there is business to discuss if you would follow me to my office." he steps aside gesturing for her to come out the room. She nods and follows him out the room as the men of The Judgement Day share a confused look.

[hargrove-mayfields]

It’s Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 2- Family

My prompt: A family reunion with Billy

Quick content warning, there is discussion of child abuse against a baby and abusive head trauma.

-•-•-•-•-

“Watch out, big bump in the sand.” Argyle warns, in his signature slow drawl.

He’s pushing Billy in his wheelchair, across a beach, heading towards a reunion for Argyle's family, the first since the couple had moved back to California.

The Gaspar family isn’t the biggest, just Argyle's mom, her two sisters, and their kids, the oldest of which have a few babies of their own. It’s still a lot bigger than any family affair of Billy’s, but those became obsolete when Billy was still just a couple of months on this earth.

Everything fell apart around then, the family split into bitter chaos and hatred. See, back then Neil had done something that couldn’t be hidden or ignored. He shook Billy.

All it took was a few seconds, but to this day he’s never regained function of the right half of his body. It’s cerebral palsy, hemiplegic. Along with the paralysis he’s got to worry about seizures and a whole list of cognitive problems, memory loss the most prominent.

Billy’s mom is his full time carer. Now that Max and Will are all grown and leading educations of their own, Ima Joyce can stay home with Billy and help him do all the things he either can’t do anymore, or never learned how to.

Argyle is a big help too, always bringing over giant casserole dishes of food for Billy and his adoptive family, or lifting Billy into the bath. It’s sweet, and fills a void that his childhood had left.

Billy wants to repay some of that with the simple things, tasks he can manage- giving cuddles, trying his specialty pizzas, visiting his family. Still makes him nervous, to be faced with his boyfriend's entire family.

Argyle tells him that’s normal, that he’d been terrified the first time he sat around a table with Max, Jane, and his secondary caregiver, Murray, at the same time, but it seems different. Billy’s terrified of not just making a bad impression, he’s worried about something like having a seizure on the beach in front of Argyle's baby cousins.

And, at the moment, he’s scared of being dumped on his face into the sand because of these bumps Argyle is pushing him over.

“Told you the power chair would’ve been better.”

“I tried my best, dude. It died before I even got it to your room. Like, tires locked, beeping sounds kinda dead, man.” Argyle doesn’t even sound defensive, he just laughs about the absolute train wreck that was their morning.

“Just tell me this thing is close..” Billy keeps complaining, only to be reassured right away by Argyle.

“Right around the corner, blue sky. Just follow the smell of tia Evelyn’s carnitas.”

Another thing that Billy really enjoys doing with his boyfriend is exploring his culture. Argyle hadn’t really been too open about his Mexican roots, since when they met Billy was in the midst of a custody battle between Hargroves and Byers. He said it felt wrong to talk about family when Billy hadn’t really found his own yet.

Now that it’s been a few years, and things are a lot better, Argyle likes to share certain dishes and songs passed down by his family that Billy just loves. It’s his favorite part about living in California instead of Hawkins.

In the same way that Mrs Byers taught her boys to speak the language of their Tanakh, and Billy loves to listen, he loves to hear Argyle and his family speaking Spanish, although he can usually only mentally translate a few words or less.

Argyle's mom is the first to spot them now, calling as they make their slow approach to the perfect spot between the trees, where they’re all set up on a few picnic tables pushed close together, “¡Hola cariños! ¡Finalmente lo lograste y mira, trajiste a tu novio!”

Billy catches that she’s relieved they both made it, but that mostly comes from Argyle's next words, where he restates what she says. That’s they’re tactic, to make sure Billy is never left out.

“Yeah, we’re here mami. Me and my boyfriend. And not just that, but we brought my super delicious world famous brownies!” Argyle sounds excited.

His mom, however, does not. She puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrow, “¿Las normales, cariño?”

“Uh, Billy these are plain brownies.. right?” Argyle leans forward, looking at the tray of brownies Billy’s been steadying for him in his lap, a look of sudden worry on his face.

Now Billy’s just confused, but he goes along with it, answering, “Yeah? What else would they be?”

“Well…” Argyle looks sheepish, and Billy realizes just what other kinds of brownies Argyle would be making.

Howling with laughter, he exclaims, “Argyle, you did not!”

Bring pot brownies to a family gathering that is. But by the looks of it…

“It was a mistake, my guy! And uh, I ate the whole tray myself ‘fore anybody else could get messed up.” Argyle defends, face flushed a subtle but deep red, but somehow that just makes it worse.

Accidentally mixing up the trays is one thing, but eating all the evidence? Billy is stumped. Shocked. Almost in awe.

“How?”

Starting to regain a little humor about it, Argyle asks, “How what, sunshine?”

“How are you alive?” Billy clarifies, genuinely curious.

And then there’s another blow to every assumption Billy had made about life ever, in the form of Argyle proudly declaring, “Back in the day, I could eat two trays.”

All Billy can do is stare and look horrified, somewhat unsure if Argyle was joking or not. He’s too bad at social cues to distinguish.

But Argyle moves on, turning back to his mom to explain to her and promise that no, this is not a repeat of last time.

“Si, mami. Sin marihuana esta vez. Prometo.”

“Esto es un alivio. Quiero que te comportes lo mejor posible para tu novio hoy.” She seems to be satisfied with that answer, kissing Argyle's cheek and stepping aside so they can enter the imaginary boundary line of the party space.

Billy’s Spanish skills aren’t good enough to pick anything out this time, leaving him to wonder, “What did she say?”

Argyle shrugs, “Just something about making good impressions.”

That’s confusing. Billy’s actually a little worried he’d imagined last year's picnic while in a hospital fever dream or something. He doesn’t sound very confident as he says, “I’ve met your family though.”

Argyle tells the whole truth now, probably sensing Billy is getting stressed, “Right. She meant me though. That whole tray of hashies fucked me up pretty bad. Mama doesn't want me ruining the party in front of you.”

Billy is understanding, but also, he’s kind of surprised. He didn’t expect her to think Argyle was the problem.

After all, he’s not the one in a wheelchair, who can’t even hold a plate of food for himself, or sit through the whole family party without falling asleep. Maybe it’s leftover fear from being shoved around the house in an uncomfortable hospital lent wheelchair and never let out of the house by his biological family, but Billy is sort of used to being the one people don’t like.

For some reason, maybe because he hasn’t felt this way in a long time, Billy doesn’t hold back in expressing that.

“She’s scared about you ruining it. I’m scared about myself ruining it.”

Argyle shifts the dynamic from standing next to Billy, to crouching in front of him, a gesture that Billy only feels comfortable with when it’s someone he’s really close to. It brings them to an intimate space to talk about this problem neither of them really realized was a thing until now,

“Wait, what? You don’t got nothing to worry about, babes.”

Invited to talk about it, Billy spirals, “What if I get sick or somethin in the middle of everything and we have to go home, and everyone’s upset at me, and-“

“Baby. Mi angel. That’s not gonna happen.” Argyle declares passionately and confidently, holding the hand Billy has feeling in, “They love you. They’ll understand.”

Billy wants so badly to believe it, in spite of whatever irrational part of his brain flared up today, “Promise?”

“From the bottom of my heart, dude.” Argyle promises, impossibly romantic and heartfelt.

Feeling better, and ready to socialize in the way Argyle's family does best- food -Billy smiles, “Could you wheel me to the food table?”

“‘Atta boy!” Argyle kisses his hand, and stands back up to push Billy over. On his way, he calls, “Mami! Pass me a plate?”

“¿Qué dices, mijo?” His mother playfully purses her lips and waits for his answer to her demands about his manners.

��Por favor?” Argyle corrects himself.

The smile she wears is unmistakably full of love and joy for her boy, getting him a paper plate and waving him over, “Of course. Come, come.”

By the end of the day, Billy doesn’t even remember why he was worried. He leaves the beach full of love and good food, and with an invitation to the next one. The little cousins all loved him, one even crawling into his lap to play shark watcher with him.

They accepted him. All of him, abled or not. And one day, when he and Argyle decide they’re ready to take things to the next stage, these folks will be his family too, as William Reuben Ocean Byers-Gaspar.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading! It’s time for todays charity highlight!

This time I’ve chosen The Arc.

The Arc is a US based organization specifically designed to advocate for individuals with intellectual disabilities. Their board protects the civil rights of those with IDD and is working to break down the societal barriers that intellectually and developmentally disabled individuals face.

These include areas like criminal justice, healthcare, employment and education, and travel. The Arc works to provide resources directly to disabled folks so they may advocate for themselves, self-identify issues with language easy for them, access care, and feel safe and protected.

Most importantly, they work directly with disabled individuals to set their standards and align their goals with what disabled people actually want and need. This allows disabled members of their board and staff to be heard, not talked over or told what to do or say.

Fighting against inaccessibility and advocating for the legal and social rights of disabled people is something I’m really passionate about. The Arc is one of my favorite organizations and I’d appreciate if anyone would like to check them out.

So, if you’re interested in supporting The Arc, there are several ways. You can donate money, sign up for their news updates, share your story about programs in your life as a person with IDD, or access and utilize the resources on their site!

For more information or a place to donate (not required of course, I just want to give the option), click here for a link to the site.

[i-love-oldermen]

I hate you? Pt.1

Y/n x Spencer Reid

Warnings- Language, talk of smut, kidnapping, some torture

Walking into the BAU office on the best night of the year. Halloween. Sure as a profiler with cases we get during Halloween it isn’t the best but it’s also his favorite holiday. I know everything about him from what’s his favorite shows to where his mom is being treated. I know many like Rossi think ‘wow if you like him so much why are you so arrogant around him’

“Because Rossi the boy genius wouldn’t be with me, he obviously likes jj”

The thing about me and this specific boy genius is that any chance I get to fluster him, I will.

“I think you got it all wrong kid” he wraps a comforting arm around my shoulder then we walk into the debriefing room.

I take my seat across from Spencer in between Hotch and Rossi. As I sit I keep eye contact with him, he’s staring at me straight in my eyes not once breaking it. The team is talking about the new case but we’re to busy staring at each other trying to get the other to break.

“Y/n”

“Y/n”

I snap out of it and turn to who called my name it was Hotch.

“Sorry yes”

“Do you have any thoughts on the profile”

“No not yet”

“Okay wheels up in 20”

I quickly get my go bag and head to the jet I’m the first one there. I sit down in my seat looking at the profile, someone comes in the plane and sits across from me. I’m guessing Rossi so I turn the folder to him and keep reading the paper that the ME sent in.

“What do you think of the COD Rossi”

“I’m not Rossi” I can hear the stupid smirk on his face.

I look up, rolling me eyes “can’t you like go sit somewhere else”

“I think I want to sit right here”

He sits across from me giving me a stupid smirk. I put on a disgusted face but my stomach feels with butterfly’s. I wanna kiss the stupid smirk off his face.

“Oh Spencer I’m not going to let you get on my nerves”

“Oh really watch me”

I roll my eyes as the rest of the team gets in the jet. Everyone starts working on the profile except for Reid he’s staring straight at me. It’s just us sitting at the table, I keep reading the files trying my best to ignore him. I get a amazing idea he wants to annoy me so I’ll do something worse. I continue reading and slip my foot in between his legs. He seems to jump a little but plays it off cool. I continue moving up his leg slowly. He looks away from me for a split second probably seeing if anyone else on the team has noticed.

-Spencer’s pov-

Y/n shoes is in between my thighs I wish it were the other way around. I look away for a split second to see if anyone on the team has noticed, no one is noticing and y/n is reading like nothing is happening. She starts moving her heel farther and farther up at a agonizing slow pace. My eyes began to get heavy and then-

“Y/n”

-Y/n’s pov-

I quickly stand up and walk over to Hotch real quick. He looks worried but tries to keep a strong look on his face. I sit across from him.

“Did you want to discuss the profile”

He shakes his head and hesitates for a minute “Why didn’t you tell me the case is in your home town”

I want to jump out of the plane now. My smile disappears and I avoid eye contact. It doesn’t take a profiler to know that I’m not okay anymore.

“I didn’t see the relevance”

“Y/n so you didn’t see the relevance in the fact that you can be a next victim”

“Hotch I’m not going to be”

He gets a little closer and whispers “ I know about, the accident”

There’s a lot of things that happened in that no good town. I loved my home but not the cruel people that surrounded it.

“However to protect you, you will have someone from the team with you at all times”

“But-“

“No it’s a order”

I decided to not argue with Hotch on this one. Plus it’s a less likely chance I would be put with Reid right.

[jacksonroseroth]

~The Price~Chapter 18~

Moodboard by @badwolf-in-the-impala none of the pictures are ours

~

Bolting upright, Taddie screamed and began sobbing, struggling to shove Thatcher away as he tried to hold her down. Finally, Thatcher grabbed her arms and spun her to face the mattress, pinning her down as she sobbed, begging him to let her go.

“Taddie, calm down, it’s me!” Thatcher cried, realizing that she was begging for Jack to let her go. Taddie sobbed until her awareness came back as Thatcher pulled his hands to her hips, rubbing his thumb over them until she’d quieted to soft sniffles then began to push against him. He let her up, quickly moving next to her and sliding his hand over her back, watching her with a worried look. “Taddie…Kitten-Wh-”

“It-I’m-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry--I-I had a-a nightmare…Thatcher-” Taddie breathed with a tearful sigh as she buried her face into his neck with a soft sob.

“Shh, shh. I’m here, I’m here. It’s okay, kitten.” He cooed at her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. He nuzzled her curls and drew his brows together as he whispered, “What happened? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-I thought--I woke up, you were gone…I-I thought you came back b-but it w-” Taddie gave a shudder and buried herself deeper into his neck with a light whine. “He c-He can-can’t do this to me anymore. He-He can’t. He-He doesn’t control me anymore!”

“Taddie, love, hey, come here…” Thatcher said, sitting up and helping her with him. She sniffled and let out a deep sigh as she curled up against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. He pressed a few kisses to her forehead and rubbed his hand over her back as he tugged the sheets up and over them. “He doesn’t control you, Taddie. He’s never going to touch you again, I won’t let him. Hey, kitten, look at me.”

Taddie sniffled and lifted her head as he gently wiped her face. She let out a deep sigh as she closed her eyes for a moment before she said, “I d-I don’t want to talk about it, Thatcher. Please. You-You make me forget so-so I want to forget.”

“Ja, of course, kitten.” Thatcher said, kissing her softly. Taddie kissed him back then nuzzled into his cheek as she asked, “What time is it? Please tell me it’s morning.”

Thatcher glanced over his shoulder at the clock, then turned back to her, pressing a kiss to her temple before he said, “It’s 6. Do you want to get up and get ready? We can stay here for another hour or two.”

“Just stay with me for a while…T-Tell me what your family does for Christmas. What should I expect?” Taddie said, her voice tired and exhausted. Thatcher gave her a tight squeeze before his fingers began trailing over her skin as he said, “Friday is a family dinner, causal-Wear something nice, but it doesn’t need to be fancy. Saturday is a free day and Sunday is just traditions-The women baking in the kitchen, the men watching football or rugby, whatever sport we’re feeling that day. Then lunch in the garden greenhouse, sleigh rides through the trails in the forest behind the house. Maybe some ice skating, then dinner.”

“And Christmas Day?

“Presents early in the morning, followed by breakfast. Afterwards, my brothers and their women usually split off for time alone and I was stuck with my parents, usually helping my Mother make some cakes and pies, desserts for after dinner…But now that you’ll be there--”

“We can still do that? It sounds fun? Good way of bonding with your mom? I don’t mind.” Taddie said, shifting to lift her head to him, giving him a sweet smile. She lifted her hand to his cheek, scratching her nails over his cheek. He let out a soft chuckle, nodding along and pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Yeah? We can if you want.”

“So…If all that is going on…When am I supposed to have time to paint? It sounds like you guys are together the entire weekend?” She asked.

“If you want to go up and paint, we’ll go. We’ll be there for meals and such, but if you don’t want to be there at the moment, we don’t have to be. And I’m not going to force you to be, cause there’s gonna be a reason you don’t want to be there and it’ll be my family. I’d never make you stay because they’re family. They should be making you feel comfortable.” Thatcher said, sliding the backs of his fingers over her cheek. She nodded, giving him a sweet smile before she kissed him, softly, then ducked her head under his chin, snuggling closer to him. He let out a deep sigh as he wrapped his arms around her, giving her a squeeze before letting his hand rub over her thigh. After a while, he realized she’d fallen back asleep and he eased her down before he slipped out of bed. He stared at her, sleeping, for a moment, then he grabbed his phone before walking away to make some calls.

~

After Taddie woke up again, they both got up and dressed, quickly packing for the weekend. Taddie had figured they would go straight from Ash’s place to New York on Friday, so Taddie simply packed everything when Thatcher didn’t stop her. She was a little leary about leaving Juniper alone, but Thatcher suggested they bring her along and leave her with Ash, since he was still going to leave some of his men to watch over the house and Ash while they were gone. Once she was packed with her bags by the door, Taddie chased Juniper down as she’d gone a little wild, knowing her mother was leaving and unsure if she was accompanying her or not. Finally, Thatcher wrangled Juniper in his arms, allowing Taddie to strap her into the harness and hook on her leash.

Lucas was at the door when Thatcher opened it and helped bring the bags to the elevator, then once they were all on, hit the button for the parking garage. When the doors opened, four more of Thatcher’s men were waiting and it put Taddie on edge, slightly, worried that they’d found Jack or he’d been lurking around the building, but she didn’t want Thatcher to see how worried she was and pushed the fear away. Thatcher helped Taddie and Juniper into the SUV while he and Lucas loaded the trunk, then he slid in beside her, Lucas and another man getting in the front before they took off toward Ash’s house. Somehow, Oscar had messaged early that morning saying he had Thatcher’s matching pajamas at the house, that he’d had them delivered and they had just arrived. Taddie was already dressed and Thatcher was sufficed to leave in sweats and a hoodie, knowing he’d be forced to change anyway.

They pulled up in front of the house and Thatcher took Juniper as Taddie slid to the door, the new man she didn’t know his name opening the door for her and helping her out. Thatcher slipped out behind her and Juniper squirmed around until Thatcher let her drop and she bounded toward the door, raising on her hind legs and meowing at the door as she pawed at it. Taddie giggled and caught Thatcher’s hand as she went up the path after her, digging into her coat for her house keys.

“Easy, Juni, down. Give Mami a minute.” Taddie cooed at her, shooing her down from the door as she unlocked it and pushed it open. Juniper bounded inside and to Taddie’s room. With a shake of her head, Taddie walked in and closed the door behind Thatcher as she called out, “Ash? We’re here.”

Taddie raised a brow as she heard a series of squeaks and giggles before footsteps ran toward Ash’s bedroom door, then ran back into the room, then back to the door again before it cracked open and her head popped out. “Tad? O-Oh, hey. I, um, I thought you were going to text me?” Ash panted, softly, forcing a sweet, innocent smile. Taddie raised a brow and glanced around, not seeing any sign of Oscar, then looked up at Thatcher, who’d come to the same conclusion she had.

With a soft laugh, Thatcher called out to the man in Swedish and heavier footfalls bounded toward the door and it opened fully, revealing Oscar in just his pants, no shirt. Thatcher raised his brows, stunned and impressed, then snickered as Taddie gave her friend an astonished look and let out a light laugh. “Um, I, uh, I was…But I figured, I have keys and you’re expecting me?--You two get along well last night, then?”

Ash rolled her eyes and made a face at Taddie before she said, “Uh, yeah, you could say we got along real well...” 

Taddie nodded along as she crossed her arms, keeping her brows raised as she said with a smirk, “Uh-huh. Looks like it…Why are you wearing his shirt, Ash?”

Ash glanced down at the shirt she wore, a smirk tugging at the edges of her mouth as she shrugged. “I misplaced mine and Oscar, being the gentleman that he is, kindly loaned me his.”

Thatcher tossed a comment at Oscar in Swedish, a sly, yet confident smirk crossed his face as he nodded and responded in Swedish. Ash gestured between the two men as she said, “Hey! One rule-No Swedish bullshit. English. We’d all like to be part of the conversation, ‘kay?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Oscar said, his hand giving her ass a quick squeeze before he retreated back into the room, closing the door a little more. Ash bit her lip as she struggled with her smirk then turned to Taddie, who blinked a few times and raising her brows at her.

“So…Are we having Christmas or what’s up?” Taddie asked, her and Thatcher snickering to themselves. Thatcher buried his face into Taddie’s curls as his shoulders shook, Taddie’s face beet red as she held back her laughter. Ash mocked laughed at them before she said, “Shove it, Price. Your pajamas are in Tad’s room-Go change.”

“I don’t see you in the pajamas?” Thatcher questioned. After a swift nudge to his ribs from Taddie and a fierce look from Ash, Thatcher snickered and said, “Okay, okay. I’m going, I’m going.”

Thatcher pressed a kiss to Taddie’s temple and left her, crossing the living room to her bedroom, closing the door behind him. Taddie gave Ash a look, giving her a once over, then Ash narrowed her gaze at Taddie before she quickly closed the door, rushing around her room. Taddie giggled and went to the living room, quickly rearranging the couches to make a bigger space in front of the TV, then shrugged off her coat. Ash soon emerged from her room, Oscar behind her, the both of them properly dressed.

“Not. A. Word.” Ash shot at Taddie as she snickered. Oscar gave her a polite nod as the both of them went to the door, Ash unlocking and opening it for him. Taddie noticed he had a piece of notepad paper in his hand as he turned to her and said, “Nothing else, Miss Ashlen?”

“No, just the list, Oscar. Thank you.” Ash said in a honeyed voice that made Taddie raise her brows, surprised. Even more so as Oscar nodded and tugged her hips closer to seal a kiss to her lips. Ash kissed him back, rather eagerly, then gave him a playful push out the door before she shut it.

“Oh, we got along very well with the protection, didn’t we? I hope you used protection at least.” Taddie shot at her, raising her brow at Ash as she turned with an indignant shriek.

“Hey, I’m a lonely woman, I have needs to, okay?!” Ash shot back in a hushed tone, but she was cut short from saying anything else as she heard the door to Taddie’s room open and Thatcher came out, Juniper rushing out now without her harness or leash. Ash arched a brow as she watched him step out, her lips pressed together tightly as she tried to contain the laugh that threatened to escape her she took in the Grinch themed flapjack pajamas he now wore.

“Okay--Why do I have the ass flap? She doesn’t have one…” Thatcher said, turning to show Taddie the back side. Taddie pressed her hands together, holding them to her lips as she suppressed her laugh, then turned to Ash as it slipped out, slightly, and cried, “Ashlen! He was supposed to match us!”

“What are you talking about?” Ash’s lips curved into a smirk as she looked between their outfits, the theme matching for the most part, “He does match–I mean I had to make a few adjustments but–” She shrugged with a wider smirk.

Taddie shook her head at her friend then chuckled as she went to Thatcher, his arm slipping around her waist as he chuckled and said, “It’s fine, kitten. I said I’d wear it…So, what exactly is the agenda today? I was told there were, uhm, adult gummies that were going to be consumed?”

“Thatcher!” Taddie chastised as Ash’s eyes went wide.

“You told him about that?! I wasn’t gonna make it obvious or give him any!” Ash shot, suddenly embarrassed. Thatcher gave a shrug and chuckled as he said, “I’ve been drinking since I was 16. I grew up in Sweden. You think me and my brothers didn’t make that trip to Amsterdam once we were all of age?”

Ash raised her brows, stunned, but only for a moment before she huffed out a sigh and retreated to go find her stash, muttering “Fine…I’ll share.”

Thatcher raised a brow and quickly checked his watch and exclaimed, “Wh-Now? It’s 9 in the morning…”

Ash narrowed her gaze at him, her arms crossing over her chest as her gaze shifted to Taddie before landing back on Thatcher, a sarcastic grin creeping onto her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Mr. Big Shot Mafia Man was such a fucking prude.” She barked out a laugh before walking away, muttering in a mocking tone, “It’s 9 in the morning!” 

“Hey, I’ve got some personal standards here!” Thatcher called back with a soft chuckle. Taddie giggled and shook her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist and lifted on her toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“What?-You can’t roll with the big girls?” She teased, nipping at his lower lip.

“Oh, I can roll…I just didn’t know you two were such fucking heathens…” Thatcher said, ducking down to kiss her deeply, sliding his hands down to grab the backs of her knees and hoist her up. Taddie let out a squeal and wrapped her arms around his neck, teasing him with another kiss.

Ash made an audible gagging nose as she rounded the corner. “Get a fucking room before I have to bleach my fucking eyeballs.” She said, tossing her assortment of edibles onto the couch.

“Oh, you’re so dramatic!” Taddie called with a laugh, wiggling around until Thatcher set her down, pressing a kiss to her temple, then said, “And we’re watching movies all day? How many Christmas movies could possibly be your favorites?”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t do that…” Taddie said, biting her lip as she pressed a hand to his chest, then glanced at Ash, who’s eye twitched slightly. Taddie giggled and lifted up to kiss his cheek and said, “At least you didn’t say it about Halloween. This is your mess, I’m gonna go start making waffle batter.”

Taddie hurried across the room with a series of giggles as Ash took a step toward him and said, “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice, pal.” 

Thatcher held up his hands in innocence as she advanced on him, then she stopped, narrowing her gaze at him for a moment before he said, “I just wanna know the plan, Ash. Your way of Christmas is way different than mine.” He chuckled as she took a few steps back and crossed her arms, looking him over.

“That’s fair, I suppose…” Ash sighed. “Have a little faith in the process though. It’s very American, but it’s worth it. At least to us it is.” 

“Is there anything I can do? I’m a decent cook?” Thatcher offered, following Ash to the middle of the room, where she could see Taddie in the kitchen, gathering ingredients on the island before hauling the Kitchen Aid mixer onto the counter.

“We need the mattresses blown and set up? Ash, can you show him, please? And be nice about it? Since he’s offering to help?” Taddie said, giving her friend a look. Ash repeated her words in a mocking tone, resulting in a tongue-out war, then a middle-finger-off before they both giggled at the other.

“Fuck-Fine, I guess. Come on, Swedish Meathead.” Ash said, smirking as Taddie called after her, “Ashlen!”

Thatcher smirked and shook his head as he followed Ash down to the hall closet, pulling out three air mattresses along with three sets of sheets. After digging around a little more, she found the air pump and shooed him back to the living room. Ash showed him how to set up the beds properly, then left him to his devices and went to Taddie in the kitchen as she poured batter into the greased and warmed waffle skillet for the first turn, filling the other side.

“Okay, who is this kid? What kind of Christmas does he have? A boring one?” Ash asked, leaning against the counter for a moment before she pushed off and went to the fridge to grab a carton of eggs, a package of shredded cheese, a package of sausage links, and a pre-packaged container of mixed fruit.

“A traditional one? By the way he makes it sound, they do the same thing every year.” Taddie said, glancing at Ash as she pulled out a few pans and skillets, setting them on the stove, opposite her at the counter.

“Sounds boring.” Ash scrunched up her nose. “I much prefer our chaotic Christmas traditions that are always evolving into something new, but that’s just me…So I suppose I can let it slide. Just this once.”  

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s down for a chaotic Christmas. Don’t forget-You’re the one that told me he’s in a metal band. How can he not like a little chaos and bucking tradition? I think it’ll be fun and you two will bond.” Taddie said with a soft snicker as Ash gave a shudder and shot her a look.

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves now with the whole bonding thing, okay? I’m tolerating him at best. And even that’s pushing it.” Ash rolled her eyes. Taddie shot her a look and said with a soft snicker, “Tolerating, huh? Ash, you slept with his bodyguard.”

“Exactly–His bodyguard, not him. That’s entirely different.” Ash scoffed.

“What happened to not wanting anything to do with the mob?--So, are you gonna see Oscar again?” Taddie asked with a teasing lilt to her voice that made Ash shoot her a look as she broke several eggs into a bowl, whisking furiously. Taddie snickered and carefully picked out each waffle, pouring in more batter and continuing the process. The women cooked as Thatcher set up the beds in the living room, making his way to the kitchen when he was done.

Taddie had a bowl of blueberries, a bowl of blackberries, and a bowl of chocolate chips, each time she poured in more batter after making a batch of plain, she sprinkled in a bit of one, giving them some kind of variety. Thatcher snagged a few chips and popped them into his mouth as he slid a hand over Taddie’s hip and said, “All set up…So, what’s next? Breakfast then movies? Breakfast then presents?”

“We usually do breakfast then presents.” Ash stated. “That way we can get stoned off our asses and binge movies the rest of the day. You know. Tradition.” 

Taddie gave her a look then smirked before glancing up at Thatcher as she said, “We open presents to the Grinch, then fight over what to watch next, but usually end up settling on choosing every other.”

As Thatcher reached for the blackberries, Taddie smacked his hand away as he said, “When me and--Ah-That hurt, kitten--When me and Tommy were younger, Mother made sure we had all the old Donald Duck movies lined up for us as we opened our gifts. Then we ate before trying out our bikes first, Father insisted on exercise. Then we played with our toys.” Thatcher snuck a few blackberries when she didn’t have the time to respond fast enough, then pinched as his side as she shooed him away.

Thatcher snickered and moved to the middle stool of the counter, leaning his arms on it as he said, “Can I do anything else? I don’t want to be intrusive, but I’m still a guest, I’d like to contribute?”

Taddie glanced at Thatcher with a sweet smile, then looked at Ash, who stole several glances at him as she poured the egg mixture into a large cast iron skillet, then popped the sausage links into another pan before she let out a sigh and said, “You can get things set, I guess. Plates are in the cabinet behind me and silverware is there.” She gestured to one of the drawers. Thatcher nodded and stood, moving around the island to investigate, quickly grabbing 3 plates, 3 forks and 3 napkins before he turned and asked, “Table, the counter?”

“Just lay it out on the counter. We do buffet style then pig out on the mattresses. Like the heathens we are, we open presents after we get our second helping, and eat while we open presents.” Taddie said, looking at Ash as they both laughed and smirked at each other. Thatcher chuckled and nodded, setting out each place setting in a row before looking through all the cupboards for bowls and things to put the food in or on. When he was done, Ash directed him to where the presents were in her room, giving him specific and detailed instructions on what to and not to touch in her room, then Taddie told him where hers were and he set off.

~

Let me know what you guys think! <3 If you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me a message! <3

Taglist: @badwolf-in-the-impala @sweetwombatpizza

[raging-violets]

⚡️The Flash and the Flame Series 🔥 : Flash Fire • Crossfire • Fuel to the Fire • Friction • Burn

Chapter Forty

Brady turned from the stove and furrowed his brows. “I mean, it’s not like everything’s supposed to stay the same, right?” He asked. “I know time travel is a thing and I know Barry tends to mess things up with time, but it’s not like we can change the current time without changing the past.” He shrugged. “The future, maybe. But we can’t change right now.”

Shaking her head, Cadence gazed at Brady. “How did you get to be so smart?”

At that, Brady shrugged. “You’re the daughter of Harrison Wells and Tess Morgan. And you’re engaged to one of the nerdiest people I’ve ever met, something was bound to rub off on me.” He smiled when she laughed. “Can’t say that Ryder has done much for me,” he added under his breath.

There was a long moment of silence. Brady took that time to get out from beneath his mother’s gaze and turned his attention back to the spaghetti cooking on the stove. He finished cooking the sauce and noodles and started to plate the food. He could feel his mother’s gaze burning a hole through him—to the point that he had to stop and check to see if she was doing so.

“Since when do you call him Ryder?”

“What do you mean?”

It was an innocent question, but he knew exactly what she was getting at. So much so that he didn’t have to lift his gaze to know she what expression was on her face. It was one that only parents seemed to perfect; where they already knew the answer and was simply waiting for the truth.

“I mean, since you started calling him ‘dad’ that’s all you called him. And that was two years ago. But recently you’ve stated calling him Ryder again.”

“Um.” Brady pursed his lips and looked his mother in the eye. “It’s not like he wants me around. He doesn’t do anything with me when he has me.”

Cadence shook her head. “Ryder loves you.”

“I know. Because he’s my dad. But…” Brady slowly shook his head. His heart rate increased, maybe a warning of saying what he’d been feeling for a long time. Or maybe fear, not knowing how to take the words back once they were out there. “He’s not my dad. When I’m with him he’s always busy with work and I’m bored. That’s…kind of why we went out that night, to stop Black Bison. Ryder wasn’t paying attention to us anyway and…I think he’s scared of me.”

A hurt expression came across Cadence’s face. Not hurt from his words, not from any guilt she was putting on her own shoulders, he could tell. He recognized that look of hurt. This was a look of hurt of not noticing the split between them sooner and addressing it. (And something else, but she was able to keep that away from him).

Emotion suddenly swirled through Brady, and he dropped onto his stool, staring at the ribbons of steam that lifted and swirled trough the air while the plates cooled. “I didn’t mean to break his leg! I couldn’t control it! Something happened with my powers, and I couldn’t stop it! He’s scared of me, I can tell!”

“This isn’t your fault, bud. It’s mine, too.”

At her words, Brady looked up.

“I focused more on you having him back in your life because he’s your dad. I didn’t really put much thought into how you felt about it or how things would go moving forward…” Cadence ran a hand through her hair, sighing heavily. “Your dad and I…we never really talked about you and me being metas. I thought he was okay with it, but it’s clear he’s not. He’s seen all of the things we’ve had to deal with as metas, he was there when we were trying to stop Zoom. He’s a human who got a good look into this world and it’s not for him. And I shouldn’t have tried to push it on him, or his relationship on you.”

“That’s not your fault, mom.”

“No. But us thinking that we could have the life we wanted before is.” Cadence reached out and grasped Brady’s hand in hers, squeezed it tightly. He smiled at the warmth from her hand, the warmth that had been ever present, even when he was an infant. “That’s not the life we have anymore. I can’t keep pretending I’m sixteen years old and I’m having a baby with my boyfriend. We live two different lives now and we need to accept it.” She drew her hand back to her lap. “It’s your choice whether or not you want to continue to see him, but after what happened with our bachelor and bachelorette parties…it’s clear that Ryder can’t be the dad to you that we wanted.”

“Barry’s been more of a dad to me than he’s been anyway, so…” Brady’s expression became pensive. He chewed his lower lip, pressing his hands to the side of the counter. He leaned against his hands, rocking back and forth a few times. He could see his mother patiently waiting for him to ask the words that weren’t coming to him as quickly as he’d wanted. “Um…do…do you think Barry, um, do you think Barry would mind if I called him ‘dad’?”

Tag List: @foxesandmagic  @witchofinterest @hogwarts-is-my-wonderland  @darknightfrombeyond @saiilorstars  @arrthurpendragon @andromedalestrange @ocappreciationtag  @arrowverseocs  @the-witching-ash

[motownfiction]

third floor

Sam moves out of his parents’ house in October of ‘89. He’s the last of the Doyle siblings to move away. Sadie moved out last year when she got married; Charlie moved out last month for the same reason. And then there’s Sam. Terminal twenty-two-year-old bachelor Sam. He could stay in his childhood bedroom forever. Except he doesn’t want to.

He’s spent the last two years saving up as much money as he can. The only reason he took the marketing job at his dad’s landscaping business was so that he’d make enough to save up for his own place one day. When he left that job for the gig at the record store, Dad was heartbroken. It hurt Sam something awful to see him like that. Head hung low, talking about how he was going to miss him. He meant it, too. Sam and his old man have always gotten on like Han and Chewbacca, Phil and Don before the split. Today, they harmonize “Bye Bye Love” as they move Sam up to his new apartment in the city, on the third floor. Mom’s lagging behind with a very tall floor lamp.

“I don’t understand why you had to move to Detroit proper,” she says as she stumbles into Sam’s new living room, lamp first.

“Just had to,” Sam says. “Better to say I did. Can’t be a suburban rat my whole life, can I?”

His mother makes a face like she just bashed her knee against the coffee table. Maybe she did. Sam can’t say he’s been paying close attention. His father walks around and puts his arm around her.

“Maggie, come on,” he says. “You really don’t want him to stick too close forever, do you?”

Sam watches as his mother frowns. He doesn’t know what she’s thinking, not really, but he thinks he can hazard a guess. Mom left the city when she realized she couldn’t be an actress … when she realized she was pregnant with him (and Sadie, but when she’s worried about her ego, then it’s all about how she got pregnant with Sam). She walks up to him and takes his face in her hand, just like when he was a kid.

“I just gave you all of my talent,” she says. “Mike, didn’t I? Didn’t I just give this boy all of my talent?”

“What talent?” Sam laughs. “I can’t sing. I can’t really act. I think I can dance, but that might be my absurdly high confidence talking.”

Mom tightens her grip on his face once more before letting go.

“You know what talent,” she says.

Sam doesn’t say anything. He knows.

That’s why he’s moving to Detroit proper, after all.

He and his folks get the last of everything in. Before they turn around and head back home, Mom looks around the place and holds in a cry. Sam knows she means it, too. She’s not that great of an actress. That’s why she’s his mom.

“I’m just … what am I supposed to do without a kid in the house?” she asks.

“Eh, Mom, you’ll figure something out,” Sam says. “One-woman shows.”

He motions to his father on the other side of her.

“One-man audiences.”

Mom laughs, and Dad puts his arm around her again. Sam locks his eyes with his father for a little while. He can’t really hear what Dad is thinking, but he swears he can feel what he’s feeling. Pride. Nervousness. Maybe a little guilt. Sam pretends like he doesn’t know what the guilt would be for.

“Oh, Sam,” Mom says. “What am I going to do without you?”

Sam doesn’t say anything. He just wonders. Is this when she’ll finally realize? When she’ll finally realize he was her ally? Sam is pretty sure he understands his mother better than anyone else in his family. More than Dad, more than Sadie, even more than Charlie. Mom is an artist in a way they don’t make artists anymore. He thinks about those old photographs of hers he found when she was ten … how he loved his little mother in them, how he wished he could have known her then. Maybe then she wouldn’t think he was a thief. Maybe then they wouldn’t look at each other like there’s a changing screen between them.

“I don’t know, Mom,” he finally says. “But I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiles to keep from crying. Sam knows she means it, too. He did steal her talent, after all.

He looks down at his hands in his new third-floor apartment, and he knows it.

(part of @nosebleedclub january challenge -- day xxiv!)

[zonecode]

     I’m officially throwing in the towel and saying that I won’t be getting any proper writing done today? But I will give one more headcanon that I have before calling it tonight. I’ve got some ideas for Cream’s mom, and I say that Vanilla was a complete badass in her earlier life before settling down for the family life. And not that she doesn’t retain her kickass skills, it’s just that they’re not her priorities anymore.

     Prior to having Cream, she was in the same line of work as Rouge, if you’d believe it. She worked with the government as a professional spy doing espionage. Like, we’re on some Bl.ac.k Wi.do.w stuff, some Cri.ms.on Pa.w stuff for those who’ve watched Th.e B.ad G.uys. She had covers for her covers, she could move silently under the veil of the night. Lockpick and slip into any building she needed to get in. And she could be rather. ehem. Charming~ when she needed to be, taking a person off and using that moment of weakness to pick them off. 

     She did this work for a good chunk of her life. She’s currently in her early thirties and my Cream is nine. She realized her knack at getting things she wanted the illegal way around her teenaged years, picking it up professionally all throughout her twenties. During that time, she made a name for herself, made a good sum of money, and even had a bit of an ego after she improved her skills to such a heightened degree. 

     Yet during it all, she couldn’t help but get the sensation that she peaked a little too early. She had lived the highs of adventure, and already she seemed ready to relax. To settle down. That’s when her sweetheart Mel (th. the food joke is caramel. laugh.) was discovered. He was just a standard citizen that had nothing to do with the insane and mixed-up life that she lived. It was... nice. It was a good slice of normalcy that she didn’t know she desperately needed.

     From there, it was a split life she was living. Go off into untold dangers where her life could be ended should one false step in the spotlight be taken, come home to a loving boyfriend that enacted great stories with her like they were two players on a stage all to themselves. Cooking and making up on-the-spot recipes, cackling at how bad their improv meal was and deciding to order out instead. It was a beautifully simple side of life that Vanilla never got to experience before, really. At least, not with someone else so delightful.

     And eventually, she had a child! Her darling Cream... it became all too hard to return to the side of life that didn’t have Cream and Mel in it. For just like that, none of it was worth it anymore. The dangers could take her life away, she could lose the loves of her life if she weren’t careful! So she began to look for a way to throw in the towel and end off this adventurous life of hers. It had been fun, but her desires had changed. She had her fun, it was time to rest now.

     So when her two lives converged, resulting in the death of her dearly beloved, it seemed as though existence had a different path for the Rabbit family. In her line of work, you can catch the eye of some very dangerous people. It was those same dangerous people that tracked Vanilla to her home in an effort to take everything away from her. And they were half-successful, taking Cream’s father from the world and leaving the mother-daughter pair on their own. 

     Vanilla escaped with her daughter who had to be no older than a few months to a year old at the time. And it was directly after that that Vanilla decided that it was over, that she was done living her split life. The good thing about her skillset was that Vanilla was extremely good at disappearing when she wanted to. So that’s what she did. Vanished off of the grid, changed her entire appearance so that she’d be just about unrecognizable to those who wanted to find her, and erased herself from every data bank that she could. 

     Now her life was living for herself and her daughter, working a standard job, and facing the hardships that came with being a single mother. Though, from living so far from society as Vanilla waited her past life to blow over, it was there where Cream learned to be so grateful for the things she received in life. 

     Vanilla had to give up most of everything in order to disappear properly, so it wasn’t always that Cream could have what she wanted, for what she needed was more important. That’s where the young rabbit’s earliest memories begin... living simplistically. So she was gracious for everything that she could have, even learning empathy at an extremely young age. As she knew what it was like to be without things your heart wanted. 

     But adventuring apparently runs in her blood. When eggman kidnapped Vanilla in Sonic Advance 2, Cream was out there doing what she needed to save her mom. It was upsetting at first, Vanilla was terrified of what could become of her sweet precious daughter if she becomes like mother, but... Vanilla was never bad at what she did, she just flew a little too close to the sun if you ask her. She did espionage, she worked alone. So she’s VERY adamant about Cream always going out with a friend if she’s going to continue having adventures.

     That’s why she got Cream a Chao. So she’d always have a partner out on the field, so to speak. Got Cheese and Chocola at the same time. vanilla was feeling really Really lonely after Mel’s death, but she didn’t want Cream to feel the same. So she got Cheese, and... Vanilla got Chocola for herself. As a treat.

[loetise]

        she's dreamed of this forever, hasn't she? her heart had ached and ached for her mother, even when she had had her. this was the only thing she had ever wanted, for so, so long. harry's presence seems almost tucked away into a corner of her mind, like a lump in a heavy blanket, hidden beneath but still so present and impossible to brush over. she thinks of him, and her failure to convince him of her mother’s love and innocence. she was supposed to be happy, why can't she be happy?

        she's bad, she can feel it. something so horribly wrong and broken she can't even be happy when the first person she ever loved has returned to her. she didn't have a name for whatever very, very bad and unwelcome thing had made itself so clear. but it felt familiar, heavy with memory. allie finds herself obsessing over the tears rolling down her cheeks, feeling sluggish and too slow to catch them as they fall. she’s so desperate to catch them, to hide them from her mother, who has always, always hated them. 

        it doesn’t matter, none of it matters. she needs to see her mom, really see her, check on her, care for her. she goes to pull from his grasp to do something, move to do anything, to make up for what a terrible daughter she’s been. something in her braces for her mother’s touch, even as the rest of her yearns for it more than anything. she finds resistance and her brows pull together. he's being mean. and she doesn't understand why and she hadn't realized it until she looks him in the eyes and sees it. it only makes everything worse. she doesn’t want to listen anymore, and he’s not looking at her anyway, which makes it even harder to understand what he’s feeling and why he seems … mad. her long, long list of worries continues to grow, as she finds there isn’t a way to please both or either of them as her emotions continue to climb. a thought breezes past her that this is maybe the first time she’s ever pulled away from him.  “ harry, stop- i need- i need to- harry, i need to hug my mom, i need to make- make sure she’s okay. you’re not … you’re not … we can- we can talk when we get home, okay? i- i pinkie promise, let’s just- she- she doesn’t … she looks scared, she doesn’t like the water, let’s go to the cottage and- and then we can, like, talk or whatever. " big eyed and desperate, she is looking at him, begging.  

        whatever she thinks in those moments of spinning is lost on her, an overcrowding of thoughts that’s gone as soon as harry moves her. her efforts to push past him fall silent when she faces her mother again, freezing in his arms as her world stops again at the sight of her and only flinching, backward, into him, at the sharp sound of his voice. she thinks she maybe feels sick with helplessness, but none of it seems to matter in the face of her mother, as allie watches as her lips purse, every movement a deep callback to a memory of hers that had seemed so hidden before then. the unsettling look of fear on her face is all she can focus on, she forces herself to. and even as harry demands it, allie thinks the moment will never come. shaking, her mother speaks. “ valentine … ” and allie feels herself fall to pieces, nearly shaking at the knees. she’d forgotten what it sounded like. even wavering, she felt something drop in herself, cracking and splitting whatever it touched in ways irreparable. somewhere dark and alone and inside, away, allie wishes she could make it feel like love. it doesn’t. it feels like a punishment.

        even stuck between them, harry, her mother, she still feels as if she’s watching from far away, talking over her, the only thing she can do is blink glassy doll eyes and feel the tears that come with them. if she looks at allie for even a moment, she can't see it, too busy watching her mother's features twist with desperation as she looks just past her, “ what- what exactly am i supposed to tell her? "

emotion floods through her and all he can do is watch. panic, confusion, recognition, dread― there are so many emotions harry can barely identify them all. he watched as allie’s joy and light withered away, watched her confidence and ease wilt and fade, watched her shrink and make herself impossibly small. he can see it, the way that allie’s precious mind struggles to make peace with reality, how quickly the girl in his arms fights to protect the fragility of her own heart.

whatever her mothers presence conjured in her mind, whatever memories or dreams or horrors surfaced as allie studied the face of the woman that had abandoned her, allie fought to fabricate into something sweet and lovely even while tears fell from her eyes. harry curled his upper lip back in distaste, his blue eyes electric with a cold stinging anger. olette was a wound that allie had grown accustomed to tending, covering it in pretty bandaids or wrapping it in satin silk, hiding it away even from herself and all the while the wound festered.

harry had brought olette to allie with a singular purpose: to carve out the rot.

finally, allie broke the silence. her disbelief, shock, and feigned joy shattering the tension like a hammer against glass. olette flinched, though he doubted it was because of allie’s voice. her eyes were wide and wild as they flicked between her daughter and her captor. harry shifted ever so slightly as allie spun back to face him, shifted so his hands were tight around her arms, holding her in place while he glared at the fey locked on her knees.

❝ i know, ❞ harry said, ❝ and she’s real lucky it’s not worse, ey olette? ❞

allie’s grip on his wrist is tight, panic or desperation or perhaps a conditioned sense of protectiveness― harry wouldn’t put it past olette to have trained allie to leap to her defense. to offer herself up in her mothers stead if there ever was a threat made against her. harry’s anger pulsed in time with the slow beat of his heart.

❝ i found her, and i brought her here because she has something to tell you, ❞ harry spoke to allie, but his words were pointedly directed at her mother. harry glanced down at allie and for a moment the anger seemed to grow quiet. he relaxed his grasp upon allie's arms enough so he could reach out and brush his thumb over her cheek, whipping her tears. it was only a moment, the time between one heart beat and the next. all at once it was over and harry grasped a hold of allie's arm hard, pulling her around to face her mother while her back was pressed against his chest. ❝ speak! ❞

[tipsydipsydo]

➳ the shower

➳ "keep teasing, I'll bend you over right here!"

➳ "it'd be better if they watched"

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: ~1k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut/PwP

Warnings: Dirty Language + Dirty Talk; Petnames; verbal Degradation; Mentions of Daddy! Kink; Dom-Sub-Dynamic (Top! & Dom! Reader x Bottom! & Sub! Jungkook) ; anal Fingering; Mentions of Exhibitionism-Kink; Teasing; Anal Sex; Mentions of unprotected Sex; In conclusion: Jungkook is a vocal brat

A/N: I know, I know... Pride Month is almost a month over but I had a writersblock lately and this shit kept me away from writing... so I'll try now to post some more bts x male reader stories! ♡ I hope you like my newest work ;)

Status: Un-edited

[Links]:

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

You should have known that Jungkook only offered you the option of showering together to simply tease the shit out of you. He said, it would save sooo much more warm water for his other roomates up and that Seokjin would yell at him when they run out of warm water again.

You were indeed way too naïve and trustful. The thought alone that Jungkook could get possibly in trouble because of him, his boyfriend, who neither live here nor pay for anything decided already for him. You're simply a guest who sleep over from time to time and your mom made sure that you'll grow into a man with good manners. So after Jungkook explained the urgency why you should shower together, you don't have any kind of reason why you shouldn't.

Well, you definitely should know Jungkook already well enough to realize, that your boyfriend like to use some white lies here and there to get what he wants. It's still hard to believe for you how the previous Jungkook, who was so terribly shy and nervous as you started dating each other, turned out to be so mishief and sassy. As someone, who could barely exchange some small talk without any stuttering at first, he has now a more than bold tongue and loves to be a brat that tests the limits of your acceptance. Little did you know that he is a masochist who needs to get put back into 'his place', eventhough he won't admit it openly. At least until now.

A cheeky pinch into your left buttcheek got you out of your thoughts and a boyishly giggle comes from behind you. You agreed to wash each others back and of course Jungkook couldn't let the perfect opportunity of grabbing your ass pass by.

"I like your ass, Daddy~ I love to see the how your muscles twitch when I am pinching you and how you gasp in surprise and disbelief, hehe.", chuckles Jungkook and you can literally hear the bright bunny smile out of his voice. It's pretty common for him, he has on his face whenever he teases or annoys you on purpose.

While his endearing smile makes your heart melt and let Jungkook getting away with his teasing way too often, the title he just called you does something to you and Jungkook knows that. Of course he do.

Your nose flare as you take a deep breath and the annoyed eye-roll had given way for a hungry and almost predatory-like expression. Slowly you turn around to Jungkook, who's eyes grows big the moment he sees your facial expression. A harsh gulp follows as you close the space between you two and cages him with your arms, sandwiching him between your own body and the cold tiles. The steady bobs of his adams-apple make it look so incredibly seductive. Some deep purple hickeys all over his neck would suit Jungkook very well.

"Hm, Babyboy? What was that? Would you mind to explain your bratty behavior to me? Keep teasing, I'll bend you over right here. Seems like you wouldn't mind to play around with Daddy for a little bit. Well, if we're already standing here in the shower together, then we need to make the waste of water to be worth it, right?", you wisper in a raspy voice into his slightly blushing ear.

A dark, satiesfied chuckle flees over your lips as you see how his bold and bratty personality starts slowly to crumble down and how your own teasing and promising words put him into his submissive mindset. Jungkook may be a tease but with the right words and gaze you can turn him easily back into a good, well behaving sub.

"What about a quick shower fuck? Isn't that what you wanted, Kookie?"

Your boyfriend exhales shakingly, didn't even recognized that he hold his breath the last few seconds. He nibbles at his lower lip with his cute bunny theeth before he gives you his confirmation.

"Y-Yes please, Daddy. Fuck me, I need you to drill your big dick inside of me, please split my asshole open with your girthy cock-", he whines weakly. Yes, that's what you like to hear. Suddenly he is such a good boy again, it's truly fascinating.

"Turn around, Baby. Spread your legs and pull your cute, little ass cheeks apart for me."

It only takes you a short moment to reach through the small slit of the opened glass door to grab into the drawer of the nearby standing bathroom drawer and pull a bottle of lube out.

It isn't the first time you have some fun in the shower.

The sight Jungkook is giving you let a deep grunt of appreciation escape your throat and leave your hard cock salivating in precum. God, he looks way too hot in this position. Literally awaiting for your cock to get fucked mercilessly.

To be honest... Jungkook is such a slut for assplay. The way already two of your fingers slip into his soft, stretched hole without any resistance. Just a few minutes later your third finger joins in without any problems. He must playing with himself a lot when you aren't around...

Just tiny whimpers and little pants left his mouth while you fingered him but now... now, where you lined your red and angry leaking cock up to his, in exitement clenching hole and slowly filling him up... whiny and highpitched moans filling the humid air in the bathroom.

Jungkook's right cheek is pressed against the tiles, eyes rolling back into his skull whenever you pulled out almost completely just to drill your cock balls deep back into him. To hear how the skin of your hips meets his bubble butt and create such obscene slapping noises clouds Jungkook's mind. He tries desperately to lift his trembling hand to his mouth to muffle his greedy moans, he would be mortified if his roommates call him out about being way too vocal once again.

Unfortunately his intention doesn't fit the plans you have for him. He teased you on purpose, very well aware that all of his roommates are at home today. He is the one who loves the thrill of getting caught doing something nasty. He is the one who jerked you off at the movie theater. So you don't have the need to cover up what you're doing.

You let Jungkook's hips go for a minute, just to grab both of his wrists and move his arms behind his back, holding them in place with one hand while the other one moves back to it's previous place at his hip.

"It'd be better if they watched. Just imagine how the bathroom door would open and they would stand there, watching us. Then they'd see how well I am fucking and wrecking this little ass of yours. What a good little fucktoy you are, taking my fat cock so well in your tiny asshole. Just think about how our nasty, shameless act turn them on to that point where they couldn't control themself anymore and start to jerk off to us. You would like that, yeah? I know what a dirty little boy you are. So let them hear what a greedy, filthy fuckdoll you are. Come, don't be shy. Be louder. Even more louder, Baby..."

[seijorhi]

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you. 

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you. 

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop. 

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes. 

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy. 

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him. 

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before. 

Happy. 

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s  shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle. 

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement. 

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you. 

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.” 

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you. 

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.  

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes. 

 Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground. 

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath. 

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but… 

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin. 

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.” 

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free. 

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit. 

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth. 

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen. 

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come. 

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion. 

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–” 

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you. 

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips… 

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it… 

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him. 

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

[donutloverxo]

NSFW alphabet | Chris Evans

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Note - This is written just for fun. I don't know Chris or what he likes lol. I also don't own the alphabet format.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Warnings - rpf, smut, daddy kink, d/s relationship, dom Chris, anal stuff, semi public sex, spanking, sex toys, praise kink.

Word count - 2.5k

A=Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Chris is clingy as fuck after sex. He’ll hold you close to his heart (you being the lil spoon of course) and not let go the entire night. With soft kisses on your face, hair and on any bruises he might have left on you. With some pillow talk about how his love for you can overwhelm him sometimes, that he can’t imagine not having you not that he gets to have a taste of you almost every night. Sometimes he likes to listen to you talk about your day, or share a deep secret you hadn’t told anyone else.

His clinginess is something you adore. Something which you would usually be fine with, how he just could not keep his hands off of you, but when you’re somewhere tropical and hot it becomes a bit of a problem.

You were visiting him while he was filming for red Sea diving resort, after seeing him in the beard and the longer hair you couldn’t help yourself and you just jumped on him. After some hot and sweaty sex, you had moved away from him a little, with your back to him you wiped the sheen off of your forehead with the back of your hand, trying to fan yourself with your own hand, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he had growled. Not wanting even an inch of distance between the two of you. You tried to protest because you needed to cool off but eventually gave in.

B=Body Part (Their favorite body part)

Everyone knows the answer to this. He likes your ass the most. It doesn’t matter if it’s a flat ass or a thick one he’ll love it the same because it’s a part of you. He likes to smack it, he likes looking at it, he may even like to fuck it. Some stretch marks would just be the cherry on top.

His next favorite would have to be your hips. He loves to see their silhouette through your yoga pants or jeans, or even a dress. After a night of some rough fucking they usually bear his handprints which he loves obviously because it’s almost like he branded you as his own.

C=Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person)

It’s always a battle with the two of you when it comes to cumming. Because Chris likes to see your body covered in his seed, particularly your face, ass and breasts, and you like to have him do it inside you, be it your pussy or your mouth.

Which he doesn’t mind obviously, he likes the idea of his spend being in your tummy, but he also likes taking pictures of your ass covered with his spunk. You just look so pretty when he comes on your face🥺

D=Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Chris has fucked you in more bathrooms than you can remember. It’s become a thing or almost a ritual now. Whenever he takes you to an event or a party, or just a casual dinner at his family or friends house, you’ll end up on your knees in the bathroom with his dick in your mouth, or he’ll worship you and eat you out till you literally can’t even walk straight.

It started when you accompanied him to an important event, he was extremely anxious. And you felt helpless because you didn’t know how to make him feel better. But you did know one thing that always lifts his mood up. So you dragged him to the men’s room and sucked him off. He was much relaxed the rest for the evening thanks to you.

E= Experience (How experienced are they?)

VERY. He’s extremely experienced. He has a lot of knowledge and puts it to good use on you. Which can be a little daunting if you’re more on the inexperienced side but don’t ne afraid. He’ll train you really well, you just have to be a good girl and listen.

F= Favorite Position

His favorite position would be doggy style. Where he’s doing from behind, with you on your hands and knees, or with your head down and ass perched up to him because you never can stay up right when he’s doing you so well. He has full access to your ass, if you’re okay with it he would use his fingers on you, spank your ass. He loves to grab your hips or your ass and your breasts.

He’s also a huge fan of missionary. Because he can’t see your pretty face, or look into your eyes from behind. Most days he wants intimacy and to show you how much he loves you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Depends on his mood. Sometimes he’s a bit goofy, like talking in a comically exaggerated Boston accent when you told him you liked the sound of his voice and how his accent becomes more prominent when he is horny.

But most of the times, he’s in control. He has to maintain some composure so you wouldn’t question who’s really in charge or think that you could get away with anything. Because you know how to make him laugh, and if he let’s you do that he couldn’t keep a straight face while punishing you.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Chris has dark Brown pubic hair, like that of his beard and the hair on his head.

Does anyone remember that term ‘manscaping'? Where dudes trim their pubic hair to make their dicks look bigger. Chris definitely does that. Although he doesn’t need to because like if he got any bigger he might split you in two.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Doesn’t matter if you’re making love, or fucking hard it will always be intimate and loving with Chris in one way or another.

If you feel needy, and like you want him to show you how much he loves you, you just have to sit on his lap, bat your lashes at him, show him your puppy eyes, and hump his leg a little. He’d get the sign and take you to bed, slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, drawing it out for the both of you, his fingers laced with yours, pinned above your head. He’d feast on your breasts and nipples the whole time just so you could feel his love and need for days.

If you’re feeling particularly frisky, or in a mood to piss him off just so he could be rough with you without you having to ask, you can just give him attitude or roll your eyes a lot. He’ll spank your ass raw, or edge you for hours, or make you climax till it literally hurts, depends on his mood really, to teach you some manners. But since you like the punishment you never learn.

Even while he’s got you over his knee, you not wearing anything but the diamond necklace he gave you, your cheeks wet from crying for the past fifteen minutes, your ass on fire but you still had to take more from him. He tsked, reprimanding you for ruining his expensive dress pants with your slick, playing with your intimate lips, he’d say while stroking your head, “It’s okay, baby, daddy still loves you. Even when you get on my nerves.”

Even while fucking you like he hated you, he made you felt loved and as if you were the most precious person in the world.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

When you started dating, Chris would often masturbate to the thought of you. But when you started sleeping together he never felt the need to, and you asked him not to do it anymore because you didn’t want him wasting his cummies.

Which might’ve been a huge mistake in hindsight because you revealed a weakness of yours. Now when he REALLY wants to punish you, he’d just tie you up jerk off his cock right before your eyes, “See this, sweetheart? I could be fucking your sweet pussy right now, and making you feel good too, but you had go and be a bad girl.” He’d come all over your face or breasts, and would of course make you come too if he feels you’ve learned your lesson.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Chris has a huge daddy kink. He doesn’t just like the title, he likes everything that comes along with it.

He likes that he has to take care of you, in and outside if the bedroom, being a daddy is a 24/7 job, he has to be considerate to you and grateful for all the trust and love you give him.

He also really likes pinning you down. Whether it be during play wrestling or during sex, it makes him feel strong, and it drives you crazy, absolutely feral for him.

L=Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Yeah you’ve had your share of sneaking off to do it during events but his favorite place to do it would be in the privacy of his own home, preferably his bed so that your dog won’t walk in on you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If you simply say, “Screw me.” That would probably be more than enough to turn him on and fulfil your request.

But what grinds his gears is seeing you in tight clothing, or the kind of clothes that would show off your assets. If you’re a good mom to dodger, if you show an interest in the things he likes or do anything that would make his heart flutter and make him fall more in love with you.

N= NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He would never have proper public sex because that would probably interfere with his public image and work. Other than that he’s pretty open to most things.

He also wouldn’t like to invite anyone else to your bedroom or to share you. It is a nice fantasy for him but way too risky.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes both giving and receiving equally. He likes having you on your back where he can see your face while he explores your intimate walls with his tongue, but he also likes to have you ride his face. You were apprehensive to at first, but with some convincing you agreed.

Sixtynine is another one of his favorites. He never actually had to ask for it. You were sitting on his face, holding onto his stomach and screaming when you felt your orgasm approaching, he pushed your head just a little, you got the hint, and started working on his cock, which was painfully hard.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

It would usually depend on what kinda day it is and how you’re both feeling. But most of the time he is usually slow but at the same time rough. Where his thrusts are drawn out but also impactful.

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Chris loves quickies. Bending you over the kitchen counter, a quick session in the afternoon on the couch when things got a little too heated while cuddling, in his trailor while he’s on a break, in the shower where he can make you dirty before cleaning you up. You made it.

But he wouldn’t prefer them over proper sex ever. Usually he likes to take his time with you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

He’s game to experiment to a certain extent. Even if he’s skeptical about something he’d keep an open mind and give it a shot for you.

S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

He’s a fit and motivated man so he can last for a long time and go for many rounds. It’s more likely for you to be tired and tapped out than for him.

If it was a long day on set, and if he’s a little exhausted then he may not be able to go more than once. But will make up for it when he can.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You both own a variety of butt plugs and vibrators, silky ties, blindfolds, handcuffs that Chris likes to use on you. You even bought a ball gag asking him to put it on you, which was the only time you ever used it because Chris liked to hear your voice and for you to call him daddy or say his name. You couldn’t do it with your mouth full.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Chris teases you a lot, but he would be a MASSIVE tease if he was a little more patient. He knows the effect he has on you. How you can’t take your eyes off him when he wears a t-shirt that’s a bit too tight and shows off his arms, how you can’t help but grab his butt sometimes and feel him up. When you bite your lip or look away when he catches you staring. If you get caught, be prepared because he will only do it more just to egg you on.

His touches a bit too light, he’d bring you to the edge and leave you just there. But fortunately it won’t last long because usually he’s the one who ends up getting riled up.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s loud alright. And he isn’t ashamed of it. He would never try to hide how good you make him feel, or miss an opportunity to call you a good girl and praise your gorgeous body. There will be lots of grunting and groaning and moaning and you revel in every second of it.

X = X-Ray (Let s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s pretty big. Much bigger than average. He looked pretty average when he wasn’t hard, you let that fool you into thinking you could take him pretty easily, he wasn’t that much bigger than anyone else you’d had sex with right?

Your eyes almost popped out of your head when you saw him hard, his dick hard and thick and a blush pink, two thick running on the sides of it.

He assured you that he would make it fit and that you had nothing to be worried about.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s pretty high. Higher than most people at least. You call him your horndog, but like in a nice way, because he always wants it. Even if you spent an entire night screaming his name and being used and stretched in ways that made your pussy as well as your body sore, he would still ask for more the very next morning. He’d respect you if you say no and back off immediately but he’s up for it whenever you want.

ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he has things on his mind, and if you fall asleep sooner than usual then he’d be up a while. But most of the times he falls asleep quickly after.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 6) - Best Friends

Summary: While out with Jensen and some of his new co-stars, the reader bumps into her father again. This time Jensen knows the truth though and nearly starts a fight. After calming him down, the reader and he have an impromptu date that ends up with Jensen sharing a secret about himself...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, body insecurities, scars, smut (oral), mention of a dead parent

A/N: I love all of this part so much! Enjoy!

________

The room was toasty warm when you woke the next morning. It took a split second to remember you weren’t in your room and that there was a warm body next to you. Your did a tiny stretch and felt a weight over your waist. It pulled you closer and you smiled, lazily opening your eyes.

“Good morning sunshine,” he said, hair spiked up every which way, green eyes big and sleepy. 

“Morning,” you said, shutting your eyes again and nuzzling him.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more adorable in the mornings, I get to see you waking up,” he said. He played with a piece of your hair and you threw your arm over his waist, holding onto him. “You’re so fucking cute.”

“Cuddle buddies, remember?” you mumbled.

“I’m down for that,” he said. He squeezed you and giggled, kissing your forehead until you turned your head upwards. “Hi.”

“Hi handsome,” you said. He pecked a kiss on your lips, a trio of feet running down the hall. 

“The vultures are awake. Prepare for impact.”

“What?” you said, the door opening and three very small bodies climbing up on the bed.

“Y/N, what are you doing in daddy’s bed?” asked Arrow.

“Don’t you guys want to sleep in for like once?” asked Jensen. He pulled her down to his other side, Zeppelin doing a dive right between you and Jensen, while JJ plopped down behind you. A pillow was knocked over his face as the twins started crawling over him, Jensen chuckling and pushing it out of the way. His face poked out just as JJ started to jump behind you, a little smile there. “Welcome to my Sunday mornings.”

“Glad I was invited this time,” you said. He was about to speak when he squeezed his eyes shut and bent his body in half.

“Zeppelin,” he grit out. “No jumping on daddy’s lap, remember?”

“Oh. I forgot,” he said.

“Who wants pancakes this morning?” you asked. All three shot their hands up and you smiled. “Well you better go brush your teeth if you want some. Go on guys.”

They ran off the bed and out of the room, Jensen laughing when you moved the pillow away.

“Think you’ll survive?” you asked. 

“That kid is single handedly going to guarantee I can’t have more children,” he chuckled. He sat up and stared at you, looking you over. 

“That’s not a conversation for right now.”

“No, it’s not. But...are you interested in your own?” he asked.

“My mom didn’t have my blood but she was still my mom. I don’t need to make a kid to love it,” you said.

“I know. I wonder is all.”

“I’m not sure.”

“Okay,” he said softly.

“Are you, in more?”

“I don’t know. I’m almost 43, in like a month. I don’t want to…I don’t want to have a kid so late in life that they see me go early in their life, you know? That’d be cruel to do.”

“You got a lot of road ahead of you. You’re not like seventy, dude.”

“I know. Everything this year just…it’s just one more kid someday that’s gonna get hurt,” he said.

“It’s one more kid to love too though. Let’s talk about this much, much further down the line, okay?”

“Okay with me,” he said. You rolled out of bed and he followed after, holding his hands over himself. 

“You need an ice pack?” you asked.

“No, I’m good,” he said. “He’s a little...up this morning is all.”

“Oh I noticed,” you said. His cheeks went pink and you laughed. “Dude. Morning wood is normal.”

“Oh. Good. I thought maybe considering what you told me last night it might have...bothered you,” he said.

“I don’t got a problem with dicks or sex. I got a problem with people invading my personal space with them without my consent,” you said. “We cool?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna take care of this. I’ll be down in a second,” he said.

“Have fun,” you said, winking as you headed out.

“The view of you in my clothes is not helping,” he said. You swayed your hips and heard him groan. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“I sure hope so,” you laughed. You changed into some fresh clothes in your room, something comfortable for the day before you jogged downstairs and found the three of them watching cartoons. “Okay. So who wants to help make breakfast?”

Two Weeks Later

“Shopping buddy!” said Antony when you and Jensen found your way over to the table where he and a few of Jensen’s other new cast mates were getting a drink and some food.

“Wow you really are too adorable when you’re not playing a psychopath,” you said, sliding into the booth beside him, getting a hug. “Hi. I’m Y/N, his shopping buddy.”

“Erin, Karl,” said Jensen. “Don’t you have a super huge crush on Karl, Y/N?”

“Yours is bigger,” you said, a waiter bringing over a pair of drinks and setting them down. You were about to order when you looked at the man and rolled your eyes. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“We’d like a new waiter. Now,” said Jensen. He stared at you and then Jensen before nodding and leaving.

“What was that about?” asked Erin.

“That was my father. We’re not on good terms,” you said. 

“Gotcha. So how’s a pretty girl like you end up with this ugly?” said Karl. 

“Aw, he thinks you’re pretty,” teased Jensen.

“I got eyes for you too, Jensen. Don’t be jealous,” he chuckled.

“Later guys,” said Jensen, arm over your shoulder as you headed for your car a few hours later. “Thanks for going. I’m still getting to know everyone.”

“I had fun. I like your new friends. I’d like to get to know Jared more when we’re back home.”

“Really?” he asked with a soft smile.

“He’s your best friend. You talk to the guy everyday. He’s important to you.”

“Yes he is. I’d definitely love for you guys to get along.”

“Me too,” you said, arm around his waist. 

“Y/N,” you heard behind you and froze, Jensen already spinning around and pushing you behind him.

“Buddy stay the fuck away from her. I’m serious,” said Jensen.

“That’s my daughter,” he said.

“I’d rather die than hurt my daughters unlike some people. Get your piece of shit ass away from us,” said Jensen.

“Y/N, I got help,” he said, looking past Jensen. “I did.”

“Do I look like I care?”

“Y/N-” he said, trying to get around Jensen and earning a shove for it instead. 

“I told you to back off.”

“Hey,” you heard from outside the restaurant, Jensen’s co-stars walking down from where they were waiting for their ride. “What’s going on here?”

“Leave,” Jensen told your father again.

“I want to talk to-”

“Excuse me but I think our friends asked you to leave them alone,” said Antony. You swallowed and noticed people starting to look. The last thing you needed was this turning into a fight and all of them ending up on the front of TMZ.

“Dad,” you said, brushing past Jensen. “Stay the fuck out of my life. Come near me again and I’ll call the cops.”

“I am sorry for what happened.” Jensen growled and you put a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

“You want to make it up to me?” you asked. “Move to Alaska, somewhere I’ll never have to see your face again.”

“Y/N-”

“Leave and never, I mean never, come back.”

He went back into the restaurant and you took a deep breath, glancing down.

“Sorry about that,” you said.

“You guys good?” they asked and you nodded. “Jensen?”

“Yeah I’m good. I’ll see you guys at work,” he said. You pulled him away and down the sidewalk, holding his hand tightly. “Don’t step in front of me like that.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you near him. Ever.”

“Forget about him. Please. We had fun tonight. That’s all I want to focus on.”

“Okay,” he said when you got to the crosswalk. He pulled you into his side and kissed your temple.

“You’re shaking,” you said.

“I’m freaking out a little bit to be honest,” he said. You hugged him and walked across the street, pulling him into a bar. You found a quiet table in the corner and got him an old fashioned, leaving him seated while you got an order of pretzels too. 

“Eat this,” you said, placing the basket of warm soft dough in front of him. He picked one up and ripped it apart, dipping it in mustard and then the cheese.

“This is really good,” he said. You pulled off his hat and carded your fingers through his hair, Jensen glancing down. “I’m sorry. I should be taking care of you right now.”

“I’m okay and I happen to like taking care of you. Always have,” you said. He nodded and rested his head on your shoulder, eating quietly as you listened to an in house band play on the other side of the bar. “I like this place. It’s kinda quaint.”

“Try some,” he said, holding up the pretzel. You took a bite and hummed. “S’good.”

“Very good. You feel like you calmed down some.”

“I thought he might hurt you. I was so fucking angry it scared me.”

“But you still listened to me and calmed down for me. I’m not gonna be mad that you want to protect me from him.” 

“I feel like I can’t do anything to protect people I care about anymore.”

“Did she ever have to force you to relax?”

“Hm?”

“Your wife. Did she make you take time off or relax or have a lazy day?” you asked. 

“Yeah. How’d you know that?”

“I think your life has been so busy for so long you forget to have the quiet moments to yourself, even though I think that’s truly what you enjoy. I think you had more fun tonight than you would have without me because new people make you nervous. I think you were thrown on pause for so long after the accident that you didn’t realize that you can’t ever go back to how it was, no matter how much you want it to. You need to take more time for you Jensen. The fate of the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders. You can sleep in. You can take a day for yourself and not constantly be with the kids for hours and hours on end. You can take a second to breathe. You gotta. I’m okay. Even if something had happened tonight, it’s not the end of the world.”

He lifted his head up and blinked a few times at you. His hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you, tasting like bourbon and mustard, something different about it this time. Something possessive, something softer. 

“Better?” you asked, stroking his cheek.

“I’m better,” he said, turning into the touch. “You scare me most of all, you know.”

“Why?”

“Cause this is either going to turn out really good or really bad and I’m so fucking tired of being scared.”

“Don’t be,” you said quietly. He swallowed and you looked him up and down. “You’re my best friend. I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“You’re my best friend too,” he said, nodding and taking a deep breath. You scooted closer and hugged him, Jensen returning it for a long moment. You sat back against the corner and turned him to lean back against you, both of you watching over towards where the band played. He sipped on his drink and you played with his hair, picking at the pretzel while you held him. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, honey,” you said, kissing the top of his head. “That’s my job.”

He tilted his head back and looked up at you with the biggest green eyes you’d ever seen, a warm feeling filling you. You bent down and kissed him, Jensen grinning by the time you were straightening yourself out. 

A few minutes went by and some more, Jensen ordering a few more drinks and food while you used the bathroom. You returned to your table and picked at fat mozzarella sticks and chicken wings, sipping on a way too expensive scotch while you listened to the band play, tucked away in Jensen’s side. 

“Can I admit something?” he asked while you dunked a cheese stick into a tiny cup of marinara. “I kinda like this more than our date a few weeks ago. Our dress up one. Don’t get me wrong, you were gorgeous but this is kinda perfect all things considered.”

“I’m a cheap date Ackles. Give me some bar food, some music and a cuddle and I’m a happy girl,” you said. You held up your stick and he bit off the end before you popped the other piece in your mouth. “I like this date too. Found out I’m your best friend and all.”

“Do you wanna…” he trailed off. You turned your head up and saw the look in his eye. You nodded and smiled, the two of you getting into your coats and heading outside. You barely caught the name of the bar before Jensen was pulling you after him down towards the car. 

He turned up the heat when you were inside and drove out of the city, finding a quiet and dark little field not too far from the house. 

“Um, I wasn’t...expecting this,” he said. You smirked and sat back in your seat, Jensen turning off the car but leaving the heat running. “I don’t even know what I’m…”

“I’ve never made out in the back of a car before,” you said with a shrug. “I’ve also never made out in the back of a car with you either so…”

“I was thinking something more…” he said, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not on birth control,” you said. 

“I’m not having sex with you for the first time in the back of a car. I have more class than that,” he chuckled. You unbuckled your seatbelt and shrugged out of your coat, leaning over as he backed up against his door. 

“If you’re not ready for this, tell me and I’ll stop,” you said. He nodded and you put a hand on his chest, unzipping his coat. Your hand rested on his lower stomach, just over his belt and he shut his eyes.

“Wait,” he said. You sat back and he sat forward in his seat again, pressing his hand over his stomach. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you said. You kissed his cheek and sat back in your seat, sticking your arms in your jacket. “Seriously, don’t over think it.”

“I want to. Shit I want to do all sorts of things with you in that backseat. But I need to show you something first and it’s better at home if you find out.”

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s go home then.”

Twenty minutes later the babysitter was gone and you were watching Jensen peel off his shirt in his bedroom, back to you. He dropped his jeans and kicked them aside, turning around in his boxer briefs. He started to pull them down when you shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“No. I think I’m wearing too many clothes is all.” You turned and took off your top, your face hot as you slipped off your leggings. You dropped them to the ground and straightened up, taking deep breaths. You’d been naked in front of your ex before plenty. But Jensen was just so damn handsome and his body was…

“Y/N,” said Jensen, close behind you but not touching you. “You okay?”

“Didn’t really think through the you seeing me basically naked thing,” you said. He lightly tapped your arm and you spun around, forcing your head up. 

“Basically naked you is hot,” he said, cupping your cheek. 

“I have a stomach,” you said.

“So do I,” he said, patting his own. “You are beautiful, Y/N. Believe me when I say it.”

You nodded and started to relax, Jensen tensing up again though.

“What did you want to show me?” you asked. He walked over to the bed and glanced at it. You took a seat and he shut his eyes, taking a beat before he pushed down his underwear. A thick pink scar ran over his skin and curled down to his leg.

“One of my arteries was damaged in my hip, leg, groin, whatever area, when part of the car kinda...went in me. It’s um...it’s fine now but the scar is…I’m kinda...self-conscious about it...”

“Can I?” you asked. He nodded and you reached out your hand, Jensen opening his eyes as you touched the end closest to his hip. You traced your finger over it and down, curving it back around and to the top of his thigh.

“I know it’s ugly but laser scar removal can be a bitch to deal with, especially down there. I-”

“I love it.”

“What?”

“Scars mean you survived. I’m really happy you survived so yeah, I love it. I don’t give a fuck if you have scars, Jensen. You’re so handsome and attractive and this is not ugly. This is part of you and nothing about you is ugly.”

“It’s not attractive though,” he said, putting his hand over it. You put yours over his and moved it aside.

“You’re standing in front of me naked and you think this scar is what I’m thinking about?” you asked. 

“I haven’t done this with someone new in almost twenty years,” he said. “I’m nervous.”

“Me too. But I meant what I said. It’s just a scar, Jensen. I got ‘em. You got ‘em. I’m attracted to you but that sure as shit ain’t why I like you.” You gently thumbed over the skin and he rested his hand on yours, tracing over it with you this time. “Come here.”

He sat down and you knelt up on your knees, cupping his cheek and kissing him. He sank back and moved towards the middle of the bed, never breaking apart from you. 

“Relax,” you said against his ear. “This is gonna be fun. I promise.”

“Can I take off your bra?” he asked. You nodded and he shook his head. “Why do I feel like I’m doing this for the first time?”

“It is the first time like this. So we’ll move at your speed, okay?”

“How do…” he said, shutting his eyes. He fisted his hands in the sheets and you wrapped your arms around him, Jensen resting his head on your shoulder. “I don’t want to...do certain things bother you?”

“Like…” you said, Jensen taking a deep breath. He lifted his head and looked at you, pursing his lips.

“Do things having to do with sex scare you? I don’t need details or why but with what happened to you I don’t want to frighten you or do something stupid.”

“You’re too sweet,” you said. You stroked his cheek and shook your head. “I’m okay. Trust me. I’ve probably done kinkier shit than you have.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not scared of you, Ackles. I’ve had all the time in the world to work through that stuff. If you want to take off my bra and leave it at making out in bed naked, that’s fine. If you want to go further, that’s fine too. I’m not pushing you into anything. Ever. I literally can’t imagine being in your position. Take all the time-”

“Why…” he breathed out, resting his forehead against yours, hot breath fanning over your mouth. “Why are you so patient with me? You’re thirty. You could have anyone you want. Why would you want me?”

“Because you’re my best friend, Jensen. You’re the only one I do want.”

He leaned forward, hand sliding up to the back of your neck as he pressed his lips to yours. He slowly took charge of it and you let him, Jensen guiding you to lay back. You kept softly kissing him, matching his pace and cupping his face, running your fingers through his hair. A finger grazed your shoulder and then the other. You moved your arms out of the bra straps, reaching up for him again. You sat up as best you could, Jensen reaching behind you and undoing the clasp before tossing it aside. He didn’t move lower though, just kissed you lazily until he rolled back onto the mattress, pulling you to lay on top of him.

You shifted back and heard him groan when you nudged the tip of his cock. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, Jensen shaking his head.

“Take off your underwear,” he murmured.

“Jensen I don’t like to have sex unless I’m on birth control. It’s just a-”

“Of course not. There are other things we can do if that’s okay?” he asked. You nodded and rolled to the side, shimmying out of your underwear. He slid down the bed and ran his hands up your thighs, a shiver trickling down your spine. 

“What are you thinking?” you breathed out.

“Wonder how you taste,” he said, licking his lips.

“Are you sure you want to?” you asked. He nodded and you returned it. He leaned down and spread your legs out, large hands sliding up and down your inner thigh, getting closer and closer each time. “What are you doing?”

“S’called foreplay sweetheart,” he said, hands gliding up over your hips and giving a gentle squeeze.

“Jesus Jensen. I was not expecting this from you.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Fuck no.” He smirked and inched his fingers closer and closer to you, teasingly leaving kitten kisses over your hip. Painfully slow he made his way down, dipping his head down and swiping his tongue over your clit. He was soft and gentle at first but he increased the pressure when your legs wrapped over his back.

His hands pinned your hips down to the bed, your own wandering to his hair and running through it. He was very good and when he sucked you fisted his short strands, Jensen doing it over and over while still working his tongue. 

Your legs squeezed him as your orgasm snuck up on you, sharp and powerful. You moaned when the feeling died down but Jensen didn’t let up for a beat.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said, another orgasm tearing through you. You yelped and threw a hand over your mouth, this one even better than the last. You breathed hard as Jensen finally pulled back, smirking as he pulled his hand away from your mouth. 

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself,” he teased.

“I think you short circuited my brain,” you breathed out, staring at the ceiling. You giggled and he joined you, laying a hand over your waist. “How the fuck did you get me to come twice. That’s literally never happened outside of some alone time.”

“You find that groove, you stay in it,” he smirked. “You taste excellent by the way.”

“You’re a fucking dirty boy under that soft little face and I’m kinda super hot for it,” you said. He chuckled and you sat up, staring down at him. “Can I return the favor?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Do you want a condom?”

“You clean?” you asked. He nodded and you smiled. “You okay with me not using one?”

“Yeah. Just don’t expect me to last long.”

You smiled and kissed him before you scooted down the bed. He was hard and leaking a bit of precome when you gently wrapped a hand around the base of him. He tensed up and you flicked your gaze up but he took a deep breath.

“I’m good,” he said. You licked your lips and ducked your head, taking the head of him into your mouth. He breathed harder and you stilled, waiting until he was calmer before you moved your tongue around. You didn’t stroke the rest of him, merely gave him a few teasing touches while you bobbed an inch or two, lightly hollowing your cheeks. He let out soft sighs and quiet grunts that spurred you to take more of him in. You moved lower and faster, swiping your tongue over his head. He started to throb and you sucked hard, Jensen groaning before he came. You pulled off after a moment and swallowed, wiping off your lip with your thumb and sucking it clean. 

“How was that?” you smirked, Jensen throwing his arm over his face. He didn’t seem to be enjoying his post-orgasmic glow though and you tried pulling his arm away. “Hey, you okay? Was it too much?”

“No,” he said, flopping his arm down and staring up at you. “It felt great. I just...I came so fucking early.”

“When’s the last time you had a blowjob?”

“Well over six months. I still-”

“Coming early ain’t a bad thing to me,” you said. “Shit I came after like five minutes which doesn’t happen like, ever. I just care that you had fun.”

“I did,” he said, a smile coming onto his face. “I liked that little under the tip thing you were doing with your tongue.”

“Never met a man that could last longer than a few minutes with that little trick,” you said. You lay down and wrapped your arms around him, Jensen brushing his nose against yours. 

“How many guys you been with? If that’s okay.”

“Three including you,” you shrugged. “Highschool party. The ex which was off and on for a long time. You. You got the nicest dick, that’s for sure.”

He chuckled and you kissed the tip of his nose, Jensen pulling you closer.

“You?”

“Oh I’ve not been with any guys,” he chuckled. 

“Go gentler on the dick than you think you should. They go nuts for it,” you said.

“I will keep that in mind for when it happens,” he laughed. “Pretty much all of my girlfriends in adulthood. Seven or so I’d say.”

“I don’t know why I expected that number to be higher.”

“More than that have tried. I’m not really the hook up guy. Sure I acted like that guy when I was younger but never really was him, you know?”

“You’ve always been sweet. Probably even as a dumb teenage boy, weren’t you.”

“I was a very dumb teenage boy,” he chuckled. “But I didn’t really get in trouble. Flirted with that line once or twice but you know. Teenagers are idiots. I bet you were a good girl, weren’t you.”

“I spent most of my teenage years with my mom sick and then after that I was...I wasn’t really the girl that got involved with that stuff besides some parties.”

“Was it cancer? Your mom?” he asked.

“Radiation poisoning. She’d been accidentally exposed as a little kid on her family’s farm when she got into some supplies she shouldn’t have. Hit her harder later on in life. She’d known since she was a kid that dying young was a strong possibility. It wasn’t easy but I felt kinda better that her first husband Dan was like, maybe waiting for her or some shit. I don’t know. Ray and I used to say that to each other sometimes.”

“Why don’t you talk to Ray anymore?” he asked quietly, playing with a piece of your hair over your shoulder.

“It wasn’t like we had a fight or anything. I just got older, moved out for a nanny job at eighteen. He started to date again and he has this nice little life now with his wife and kids. The idea of a father scared me.”

“My dad’s nice if you ever want to talk to a dad sometime,” he said. He smiled before he cocked his head, his lips parting. “They have no idea I’m dating you.”

“It’s not been that long,” you said.

“I should tell them, before they hear from some tabloid or friend or something,” he said.

“Do you think they’ll have a problem with me?” you asked, his head shaking. “I mean, I’d be leery of me if I were them. I sound like a fucking movie plot. The young nanny gets with the older single dad.”

“My parents want me to be happy again and you make me happy for the first time in a very long time. There’s no way that they couldn’t love you,” he said. You nodded and closed your eyes, covers pulled up over top of the two of you after a few moments. You felt a kiss on your lips and you smiled, inching closer to him. “Thanks. For tonight.”

“You too, Jensen. It was perfect.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 7 here!

[punkgrogg]

Doorway Duo pt.3

Pairing: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader, Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Hybrid!BTS, Non idol AU, fluff

Warnings: Pregnancy

Summary: Y/n was abandoned by her long time boyfriend and moves back home to help prepare for the baby. She’s surprised to find two unfamiliar hybrids at her house.

Length: 3,074

Notes: Sorry I took so long! I had to split this update into several parts because I ended up typing out over 6,000 words so another part will be posted in a couple days hopefully I can fix my laptop by then.

Date Posted: 9/4/2021

“Share the heat,” Hoseok complained, tugging the blanket from my cocooned form.

October ‘s days were chilly but as soon as the sun set, it was freezing. I was propped up on the couch, surrounded by pillows and a king sized blanket tucked around me. Mom sat on the recliner to my left, the reason behind my assortment of pillows, and Hoseok was shoving his way into the occupied seat on my right. Well, my legs were occupying it.

“There’s a while couch right there ass hat.” I whined as he lifted my legs and placed them on his lap. This wasn’t so bad- he was warm- but the sibling bond between us made sure to complain.

“I don’t want to sit next to dad, he’s way too excited over the game.” Hobi pulled out his phone and scrolled aimlessly.

“When’s Namjoon gonna be here? His team is kicking ass.`` Dad was lively when it came to soccer. It was cute though and I loved how animated he’d get with each goal. But the kicker is that he and Namjoon rooted for other teams. Hobi, Jin, and I all sided with dad on the sports front but Joonie picked a shitty team that’s been coming up in the last couple of years. Maybe the heart attack he nearly gave dad ten years ago was worth it- if the pride in my dad’s eyes were anything to go by.

Joonie was our wild card, he seemed to pick the most difficult path just because he liked the challenge. He’d always do the opposite of what we expected, whether it was the sudden law school decision or boycotting Christmas one year. But today was probably the most surprising.

Jungkook apparently wasn’t a sports fan until this season started, my dad’s enthusiasm rubbed off onto him and now it was funny to see him white-knuckling a sprite over a bad call. Taehyung was taking a nap upstairs and mom was idly reading some seedy romance novel if the blush on her face was anything to go by. Well it was probably the shirtless man emblazoned on the cover that truly gave it away.

Hobi sighed and tossed his phone over onto the side table, he closed his eyes and melodramatically threw his arm over his face as he rested against the back of the loveseat. I rolled my eyes, “what’s it now buttercup?”

He huffed at my nickname, “Jimin isn’t responding.” He dropped his arm to pout at me as if I could help the situation at all.

“You know he’s probably working right now?” I nudged his arm with one of my feet.

His pout turned into a full blown frown as he made puppy eyes at me. “Yeah but that doesn’t mean i can’t miss him.”

“OH, so you’re going to finally admit that you’re dating him?” The delighted smile that ripped it’s way across my face made the frown completely fall off of his.

“Oh shit.”

His shock made me full bellied laugh, “Mom! Hobi finally sa-”

“Shut up! You tricked me!” he hissed as he covered my mouth, I smiled evilly as I licked the back of his hand to deter him.

“The baby.” Jungkook snapped, ripping Hobi's hand off my face. How did he manage to get across the room so quickly? Beyond me. There was a cloudy sort of anger in his face, one where he knew he shouldn’t be angry but couldn’t help it.

“Kookie, I'm fine.” I reached up to hold his wrist as he let go of Hobi's hand. He looked down on me tersely, his eyes colder than usual.

“Hoseok, how many times do your mother and I have to say to be gentler with your sister? You two are honestly getting too old for this.” Dad scolded, his hand on Hobi’s shoulder. I could see him curling into himself and suddenly I felt small.

“Dad, I'm okay, Hoseok and I were just playing. You know he’d never hurt me or the baby.`` I let go of Jungkook's wrist and tried to sit myself up more. It was hard this late into the pregnancy.

“You need to be more careful too, you’re way too rowdy these days.” he chastised me and I could feel the anger at being talked down to. I’m not a child anymore.

“No, this is my baby and my body, I get to decide when it’s too rowdy. We weren’t wrestling or fighting and I could easily breathe. We were doing nothing wrong, why are you acting like this?” My tone was cold and I forced myself up into a standing position. Jungkook stepped away from the couch so i could have enough room.

“y/n baby, you know i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings-” i cut him off; i was fuming.

“Well you did. You basically said that either my big brother is going to hurt me or that I'm incapable of judging how much energy I can exert. We’re all adults in this room, why did you two have to intervene?” my glare turned to Jungkook, he hardened his gaze.

“The baby’s hormones are-”

“No more baby excuses,” I cut him off. “I know he’s fine, he’s twisting and kicking just as he’s always been.”

“The baby’s hormones are-”

“Stop Jungkook.” I held up a hand, the anger bubbling up to the surface. I needed to cool down before I lashed out. I could feel the heat coursing through my arms and filling my chest.

“No, Y/n he’s right I didn't notice it till you stood up but the baby’s hormones have gotten really strong all of a sudden.” Hoseok chimed in. still seated, he reached out and touched my stomach. Mom crossed the room and shoved her way through Jungkook and dad to kneel in front of my stomach, accessing my state.

“What? What does that mean?” I cradled my bump, the fear seeping into my words. He felt normal there, my doctor told me if anything were to feel wrong then to trust my instincts and immediately go to the hospital. But this was different, nothing felt wrong.

Taehyung thundered down the stairs, “Y/n? What’s going on down here? I can smell the stress from upstairs,” he took a backseat to the worry on my mind.

“Is something wrong with him? Nothing feels wrong.” I turned to Jungkook, the worry overpowering the shame of the argument we had just had. He was the first to notice so maybe he knew what was wrong.

“I was wrong, holy shit, we should make a doctor’s appointment.” Hoseok suddenly exclaimed, he jumped up and held me at arms length by the shoulders. He looked down to my stomach with a shocked expression.

“Honey, get the keys we’re going to the hospital.” mom barked out. I didn’t even notice her leaving the huddle but she was back at the recliner as she tugged on some tennis shoes.

“No! It's okay! The pheromones are showing that she’s okay too.” Jungkook finally spoke up, he threw an arm around me and pointed at the baby.

“She?” The confusion in my father’s voice was only a mirror to the rest of the room.

“Yeah, the pheromones got so strong because there’s two.” Hobi explained as he crossed the room and relieved mom of her purse. He placed a calming hand on her shoulders. Shoulders that seemed to be leveled with her ears with the abrupt stress.

“You mean twins? It's a bit late to find that out don’t you think?” she all but hissed at her third son. Mom was visibly anxious right now, something I had never seen before. She was usually so calm and cheerful around us.

“Mom, you’ve said it yourself, y/n is bigger than most pregnancies.”

“I mean yeah but we’ve gone to the doctor twenty times over the summer and I think he’d find another baby in there.” I chimed in, coming to mom’s other side. I think it helped with calming her down because her shoulders lowered a bit.

“I can smell both, I can smell her all of a sudden alongside him.” Taehyung wrapped his arms around me, his head burrowing into my shoulder. His grip on me was tighter than usual.

“But Tae that doesn’t make sense.” I turned in his grasp, facing the snow leopard hybrid, my disbelief written across my face.

“He’s had a very strong scent and a very strong heartbeat, maybe he just masked hers.” Jungkook stepped into my bubble once again. He was on the other side of Tae but seemed to block off any others from joining in the clique.

“But the ultrasounds only show one baby.” I reasoned out, my right hand reaching behind me to rest on my mother’s shoulder. Accepting there was a second was terrifying, I was barely holding myself together for the one pregnancy. Adding on another? Was I eating enough? Taking enough precautions? Maybe dad was right in intervening today.

“Back in the day they couldn’t find Seokjin’s penis and told us we’d be having a girl. It was a bit of a shock when he came out.” Dad. Of course, I've heard this story before, ultrasounds weren’t always perfect.

“What should i do?” I was scared and it was evident in the shake of my voice, Taehyung only hugged me harder.

“Hey guys, what's going on here?” Namjoon’s voice shattered the tension of the room. Seeing him and the dark haired male next to him gave me a chance to breathe.

Hoseok flitted across the room, his excitement at seeing our older brother evident in the wagging of his feather duster of a tail. “Joon, you're going to be an aunt and an uncle.”

“What?”

“Hobi that’s not how it works and you know it.” Mom chastised with a small shake of her head. Hoseok was a blessing to us all when tensions were high. “Who’s this?”

Namjoon seemed to freeze up a bit before throwing an arm around the guy hovering behind him a bit. Said man flushed lightly at the attention turning to him and in the soft light of the living room I could barely make out a pair of silky black ears atop his head. “This is Min Yoongi, he’s my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” I sputtered out, breaking the moment of silence that enveloped the living room. I could see dad from my peripheral making his way to the doorway with a smile.

“Yeah, problem?” Joonie’s eyes were narrowed at me but eased up at the grin I was sporting.

Pulling away from Taehyung a bit, I sneered at Hobi. “Hoseok- he told us about his boyfriend before you could. How does that feel?”

Hoseok groaned before stomping over to me to grind out: “Oh my god you're annoying and technically i said it first.”

“But you didn’t tell mom and dad.” I taunted, the faux misery on my brother’s face would fuel me for months. Taehyung sat on the loveseat behind him and tugged at the hem of my shirt for me to join him.

“They’ve met Jimin before though and according to you i’m not subtle.” Hobi argued, his hand on his hip. Jungkook followed Tae and I down to the seat and I was wedged between the two with my legs in Kook’s lap. He gently rubbed circles into my swollen ankles as Hobi and I glared at each other.

“Anyway, what's this about me being an aunt now?” Joonie interrupted the stare down with Yoongi by his side, our parents must have finally let them out of their interrogation.

“These three are suddenly claiming I'm pregnant with twins.” I explained with a flick of my wrist, the stress of the situation (that was only a few minutes ago) seemed as if it were twelve years in the past.

“Um, I can smell two scents too.” Yoongi’s soft spoken words brought back the fear.

“Holy shit, mom! What am I supposed to do? Should we go to the hospital?” I tried to push myself up into a sitting position but Taehyung held me gently to his chest.

“The babies are happy, I don't think they’re in danger. “He hummed softly into my ear. I could feel the sincerity behind his words. He rubbed a hand up my arm gently and started to purr. An attempt to ease my anxiety.

“Danger or not- we still need to confirm if there are actually twins. That’s a nightmare in itself. That’s double of everything I was sort of ready for. Wait, what if I give birth prematurely- don’t twins come early?” there was panic rising in my chest.

“Mom and Dad went to their room, they’re recovering from the unexpected news but Y/n it’s going to be okay. We’ll go to the doctor’s tomorrow, together,” Hoseok reminded me, he softly ruffled my hair as he leaned down to kiss the top of my forehead. Still I looked around the room for my mother. The one who holds all the answers to my pregnancy fears. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi, all stood above us three, all showing a different expression. Namjoon looked apprehensive, which was normal for him. Hoseok looked as if he were trying to tame a wild animal. Yoongi thought he looked stunned, his eyes blown wide.

“Hobi you’re banned from my ultrasound appointments. You almost broke the equipment.” I reminded him with a forced smile. I could still feel the panic but it was ebbing away. I wasn’t dying, I was safe. The babies were safe. Everything will be okay.

“That’s so rude, I apologized and everything.” he crossed his arms, generously taking the bait. Knowing that Joonie would laugh at his expense.

“We’ll go with you, we haven’t been able to go since Hoseok has been.” Taehyung declared, way too happy for me to decline, and I smiled softly at him. I was held up against his torso, his head just a few inches above my own. He leaned down and rubbed his forehead against my own.

“You’re going to scent mark my sister in front of me?” Namjoon sputtered indignantly, causing Tae to freeze all of a sudden.

“Namjoon, that’s not scent marking.” Hoseok laughed and shoved at his shoulder playfully.

“Actually, we feline hybrids scent mark like that instead of that mess you canine hybrids do. I scent marked Namjoon earlier in the same way.” Yoongi crossed his arms and seemed to glare down at Tae. I was a bit shocked to say the least.

Hoseok had explained it to me when we were younger, scent marking was a hybrid instinct, and it had two different connotations. There was a familial way and a romantic way to cover another person in their pheromones. Hoseok would hug us and hold our hands growing up to rub just enough of himself on us to comfort himself that we were his family. Especially when we were younger and playing with larger groups of children or when there was a big event. The familial way would only last a few hours and was more of a comforting thing for family and very close friends to help with bonding.

Hoseok had explained the more romantic way was to imbue another’s scent for a much longer time and it was done by stimulation to the scent glands which meant that they would lick each other’s scent glands. He had been tomato red explaining this to me when he had found another hybrid’s scent on me that was much stronger than his own. When I explained that I was just playing with a hybrid at recess and they hugged me he seemed to melt into the floor in embarrassment.

Taehyung was staring up at Namjoon with an indecipherable expression. The massage on my ankles had stopped at Namjoon's exclamation and my glance at Jungkook showed him to be in the same emotionless stare down but instead he was staring down Yoongi. He knew too, but why hadn’t he told me?

“She’s part of our pack, of course I would scent her.” Taehyung had no emotions in his words, the monotonous response seemed to aggravate my brother.

“Wait,” I held my hand up to the seething man before turning to his boyfriend. “I’m confused. Hobi said that licking my neck would be romantic scent marking and hugging was familial scent marking. Which would this be?”

My question caused all four hybrids to freeze up, Hobi’s face once again lighting up in embarrassment.

“Uh, he said that? Well, uh, that’s wrong.” Yoongi forced out, his face turning a light shade of pink.

“Hybrids themselves decide what the type of scent marking it is when they release the pheromones, and there’s a lot of different meanings that could exist. Typically a more familial scenting would be a hug- so that part is right- but also kissing the top of your head could work. Licking your scent glands isn’t a romantic way for scent marking, it’s more sexual.” Yoongi's face almost matched Hoseok’s at this point. “Romantically speaking there’s a lot of ways you can scent someone- like rubbing your necks against each other which is common amongst the canine hybrids. For us feline hybrids we rub our faces against the person, like he had done to you. The pheromones typically let us know, but he’s not releasing heavy enough pheromones for us other hybrids to notice, but rubbing his face against yours is claiming you as his in feline standards.”

“Oh,” I could feel the hybrid underneath me tense up as Yoongi's explanation came to an end. I glanced up at him to see him still staring down my brothers.

“I’m still a little confused but thank you Yoongi. Namjoon, Hoseok, I’ll take it from here, I don't need you hovering over us for this conversation. In fact, I think I'll take this conversation elsewhere, you three have fun watching the game. Joonie, dad recorded this and last week’s matches for you.” I worked my way into a standing position with Taehyung’s help and made my way to the stairs, both Taehyung and Jungkook glued to my sides.

“It was really nice meeting you Yoongi,” I smiled at him and waved my goodbyes as I made my way up. We made our way into my room, the two hovering in the doorway. Just like I had met them. I took a deep breath and settled onto the bed.

[lonelyl00n]

Je T'aime | Yandere! Joy

Summary: When your childhood bully won't let go of you.

Warning: manipulation, abuse of power, controlling relationship, jealousy, mention of killing

wc: 1.5K

This is was inspired by my favorite song Je T'aime by Hey. When I found out that Joy did a cover of that song, I got the creativity to create this. I wanted to get all of this out of my head, so it may feel a bit rushed in some areas.

You were in the library when you felt someone put their hands over your eyes. “Guess Who?”

“Hmmm.” You joked as you tapped your finger on your chin. “Is it…Namjoon?”

Your eyes were uncovered the second you said that. You laughed at Joy’s angry expression. “I told you not to mention him.”

“Sorry, sorry. What brings you here.”

“What do you mean what brings me here? It’s our night out.” Joy gasps.

“I’m sorry Joy, I don’t think I can do it tonight. Namjoon was supposed to be tutoring me, but I’ve been waiting for like thirty minutes.”

“I’m one of the smartest kids in the school. I’m in the Top 10 you know. Why didn’t you ask me?” Joy pouted.

You laughed at her outburst. “First of all, your parents would sue the school if you weren’t in Top 10, so that doesn’t really mean much.”

Joy's father was the CEO of a famous luxury brand, while her mom is a retired actress who was popular in the late 80's and 90's. Her parents had more money than you and your family could ever dream of. Growing up bouncing around from different relative’s basements made a lot of the kids at school growing up, make fun of you.

Especially Joy.

In 4th grade, is when she would begin to make your life a living hell. She would steal your lunch money and give you foods that she knew you were allergic to. She would constantly call you fat and make rude comments about you to her friends.

It got worse in 10th grade, when she made an announcement over the PA system that whoever talked, touched, or even looked at you would get beat up. She bought you and her matching rings at cost more than $1000, and would make you wear it all the time. She bought you clothes, gave you money, and even managed to convince her parents to buy your family an apartment with three bedrooms and a balcony.

 She basically owned you. You weren’t allowed to go out on the weekends because of her security guards guarding your apartment door. When you did try to leave the apartment, which you never succeeded, you would be taken by the guards to the Park Mansion and have to sit on Joy’s lap as you two watched a movie, as punishment.

You hated the power she had, you always did, she even forced you to go to the same college that she was going to, by threatening to hurt your Aunt Irene.

You reluctantly agreed to her ‘idea’, not wanting to hurt your family members that helped your family so much.

So now you followed Joy around the campus like a little puppy, while everyone else thought that you guys were just close friends who liked being near each other.

“And second of all.” you continued. “We are supposed to be working on a project together.”

Joy furrowed her eyebrows while thinking. A project? With a boy?! She thought she had already told all of your professors to not give you any partners at all. Especially a boy.

“I know what your thinking.” Y/N claimed, seeing the looked on Joy’s face. “But we went to London for a whole month, and this was a month-long project. I can’t do it alone.”

“Fine, then I’ll help you.” Joy suggested.

“But Namjoon has to get this grade too.”

“Why do you worry about other people so much, come on let’s just start this.”

You and Joy spent all night, researching, printing, and decorating your poster board. By the time you guys were finished it was 2 a.m.

“Well, that was quicker than I expected. I guess I’ll have to make a new reservation for tomorrow.” Joy sighed. “Let’s go home.” She said as she intertwined your hands and walke out the library.

As part of the deal, Joy had you move into a luxury 2-bedroom apartment that was about an hour away from campus. Joy demanded insisted that you shouldn’t use public transportation anymore because now, with the help of her money, you were worth a lot. Throughout your high school experience, Joy never let you get a driver’s license, so she has the pleasure of driving you to and from campus, always knowing your whereabouts.

You looked out the car window without having anything to do. As punishment for talking to a boy, Joy had taken your phone claiming that the only person you needed to talk to was always right beside you. “What do you want to eat.” She asked you.

“McDonald’s.” You say robotically. McDonald’s was the only fast food place that Joy allowed you to eat. It was the place she found your family at in 10th grade.

It was on a rainy day that your Aunt Irene had kicked you, your parents, and your little brother out of her basement for being a burden, which you didn’t understand because just a week ago your Aunt had said you all staying there was the best thing to happen for her since her illness was starting to worsen.

So, with no where to go and barely any money, your parents took you all to McDonald’s to split one box of 20 piece chicken nuggets, and 4 small drinks for each member of the family.

As you were told by Joy, her family's trailer had broken down on the way back home from the airport, so Joy offered to walk to the nearest building while her parents berated the driver. The nearest place just so happened to be the McDonald’s you and your family were at.

You instantly recognized Joy when she walked through the door, just like how Joy instantly recognized you. She sat a table across from the booth your family was at, and pulled out her phone. Gosh, were you so amazed. You had never had a phone before. Your parents only had one that they shared, and you didn’t have friends (because of Joy’s rules) to let you use theirs. Joy smiled at you awe-filled eyes and continued talking on the phone.

You didn’t even realize that you were staring at her until your mom slapped your wrist and told you to stop. When the phone call ended, Joy stood up and walked towards your table. You looked at the ground, afraid that she too would scold you. “Hello L/N’s. I’m Park Sooyoung.” She started. You heard a gasp in front of you and looked at your parents, who were looking at the entrance doors. A tall man wearing a suit, and a woman carrying a Chanel bag. Walked through the door.

Joy looked back and laughed. “Oh, those are my parents.” They came up to your booth, both shoke hands your parents and stood behind Joy. ”We wanted to give your family a place to stay, would you let us.” You mother, being the biggest fan of Joy’s mother growing up instantly nodded, while your father thought about it for a few seconds before evening his Wife’s beautiful smile. A smile he hadn’t seen since their wedding day. He agreed as well.

That night was significant to you because not only did your family get a place to reside, but it was also the first time that Joy was nice to you. Since that day she started treated you better, still not letting you talk to anyone else, but she was nice.

Although Joy would never tell you this, it was that night that she fell in love with you, completely.

After eating. You and Joy got into the bed that you two shared. Yes there were two bedrooms in your apartment, but you couldn’t sleep in a room by yourself.

You had slept in a room with somebody your whole life, it felt uncomfortable. So on the first week of living here, you asked Joy if you could sleep with her, even okay with sleeping on the ground. Joy let you into her bed, and sang you to sleep.

That became your routine every night after that. However tonight was different, you feel asleep the minute you got into bed. Joy snuck out of the bed and turned you alarm off. You didn’t need to go to school tomorrow, you wouldn’t have time anyways. Her makeup crew that were going to come today were rescheduled to come tomorrow. The day she had been waiting for since that night was going to happen.

 All of you and her family members were going to be at that restaurant and would watch as she would get down on one knee, just like in the romance movies, and propose to you. Just thinking about tomorrow made her heart flutter. Yes, she was furious about the change of plans today, but she would never take it out on you. Instead, she took it out on that Namjoon guy behind the library. Ugh! Just thinking about him getting close to you was sickening. She had her men take care of his body for her.

She kissed your cheek and whispers in your ear, “I love you.”

Everything was set in her plan. She loved you, and you…would have no choice but to love her. You were hers after all. Hers to love.