#who you are is not what you did; you’re still an innocent // mari.

[grimsmuses]

// omori tag dump lol ignore

[trashmouth-richie]

eddie x reader

a follow up to this prompt by @rebelfell

2.6k

tw: angst, smut, minors fuck off pls teasing? is that a trigger idk.

“we need to talk.” the conversation we’ve been waiting for after you catch your best friend getting head finally unfolds

“We need to talk.”

Your blood ran cold, ice in your veins it was practically prickling your skin. The heat on your cheeks bloomed and your gut quaked at the sight of him, covered. 

Play dumb! It’ll work! 

“I , m-mean, now?— like right now? You have cum- company! a guest— we can talk later, yeah?” 

The stuttering, calmly hands and the sweat gathered under your arms— you were a one woman walking circus, missing the clown nose.  

“Why are you being so weird?” He leans into your doorframe, tattooed arms cross over his broad and glistening chest. 

The flush still in his cheeks almost brought you to your knees, but it was the single flick of his tongue on his lips that had you melting and wishing he had licked your lips instead. Fuck.

“… besides, you already interrupted my guest, so she left—”

Your ears perk up at the mention of said whore leaving your apartment, and your eyelashes bat open, “she left? Why?” 

Eddie huffs and puts his tongue in his cheek like he can’t believe you’re being so stupid. 

“Cut the shit, okay? Will you just be an adult for a second?” 

The smile on your lips falls and you take a step back towards your bed setting your keys down on the nightstand. The silence is anything but quiet. The energy was chaotic and shooting like daggers much like Eddie’s eyes into yours.

“Well?” he asks dramatically, raising his eyebrows to try to get you to speak.  

Play dumb— it’s working! 

“Well what?” you muse innocently. 

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie spits, any softness he brought into this situation had fizzled—dead at the door. 

“I—”

“Forget how to knock?” 

“No—”

“Suuuure, you just thought you’d what? Barge in, ignoring our code?” 

“I didn’t—-there was no hot water! You forgot to pay the water bill!”

“That’s not how water bills work.”

You stand stunned— mouth open to argue but nothing will even come out.

“It’s the water heater for this shitheap building that’s out— if you don’t believe that I paid the bill—call the water company yourself.” 

“…oh.” your voice is small, quiet almost unheard. 

“Wow, really great apology.” 

“Oh relax! Just call her back and explain it was a mistake, who cares? She shouldn’t be so uptight.” 

Eddie is fuming, blood rushing to his head as he tries not to yell out right. But fuck you were being so difficult.

“Ya know… I didn’t say shit when you had Harrington tied to your bed posts and you couldn’t undo the knots— did I? Nope—not a fucking word, I just cut him loose and acted like nothing ever happened!”

You wince, who knew knots were that hard to unlace?

“That was different!” 

“Or the multiple times I caught the fuckin’ Chief slipping out of your room at 5 AM? I even bummed him a cigarette for his morning coffee!” 

Your jaw hung to the floor, you didn’t know Eddie had any idea that you’d been sleeping with Hopper. 

“So? What—we’re just airing out dirty laundry now?” you could be venomous too, your rattle sounding off ready to strike. 

“How many months did you try gettin’ into Mary’s pants before you dumped her because she’s married to Jesus Christ her Lord & Savior? Her name is Mary for fucks sake! Not hard!”

His face pulls to anger, “don’t be a bitch!” 

“And where’s Gareth? Never see him around anymore, maybe it’s because you ran over his d—.” 

“That was an accident! I honked and he never moved!” 

“He was deaf Eddie!” you yell back into his face, “or! How about the time I had to pick you up from the Hideout because you got so drunk you pissed your pants?” 

“That was YOU!” 

The two of you were standing nose to nose, shouting accusing each other of shit that didn’t even matter. Eddie had your back and you’d have his until the end. Cradle to the grave. 

But this was different, you weren’t fighting like siblings or friends, you were both screaming as if you were in pain. 

He’s the first to move, shaking his head and turning towards the door. when he speaks his voice is low, angry.

“When my door is shut don’t open it—turn your ass around and fuck off, got it?” 

His words split your skin, vining through your body like sharp thorns. The hot spill of tears were welling in your eyes. 

“Sorry to bother you, asshole— won’t happen again.”

He’s on the opposite side when you slam your door in his face. The rain brewed and stewed and finally was ready to fall from the clouds in your eyes. 

Why were you acting like this? 

Grabbing your keys you set to leave again, needing an escape so he couldn’t hear your wailing cries. But again— when you opened the door, he was still standing there, only this time he looked pissed. 

“Move.”

He brushes you off as if he didn’t even hear you, “enough.”

“Eddie, get out of the way!” 

“Do you know how many nights I listened to you fake it for this fuckheads?” How long 

I’ve waited for you to admit it?” 

He shuts your door behind him as he pushes his way inside. 

“Admit what?”

“C’mon, baby— we haven’t been friends for a long time, not really.” 

You’re confused and on the verge of tears, “what?!”

Eddie presses forward, head tilted down at you.

 “Those douchebags you bring here can’t handle you the way I know you need…coming home to see their boots by the front door makes me absolutely despise you.”

“Who gives a shit? I trip over skanky high heels sometimes too.”

You were missing the point he was trying to make, way over your head. 

“Never satisfied when they leave…that little vibrator in the top drawer is not as quiet as you think it is.”

You were throbbing, aching… how did he know? 

He inches forward, and you double back towards the door.

“I—”

“Pretty little moans on your lips just minutes after they leave…‘m not stupid sweetheart, I know you do it on purpose— parading around the apartment in your little shorts, never wearing a bra… you’re a tease.” 

He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be! Right?

“I hate you, Eddie.” 

He stalks forward like a predator eyeing its prey, a stupid smirk on his face. 

“No— No I don’t think you do. I think you’re so fucking wound up about me, jealous... It’s alright, I get it. I bury myself in bitches so you’ll get out of my head.”

He takes a ragged breath, his eyes pitch dark, and your back hits the door, he closes in around you, his arms on either side of your head. 

“I fucking hate you, princess. I hate that it doesn’t work.. you’ve made me jealous for too fucking long.”

Your body was screaming, angel and devil on your shoulder dancing and holding hands rooting you on. 

“H-how long?”

His hand falls to your chin, pulling down your bottom lip.

“Senior year. Hellfire. You laughed at one of Jeff’s stupid fucking jokes and my blood ran cold. I wanted you to look at me like you looked at him. That was just the first time I realized I wanted you.”

You shudder, fingers running along his chest, playing with the chain on his neck, “why not say anything?”

“Didn’t wanna ruin this.” 

His lips nearly touch yours, he’s leaning in so close. And you don’t pull away. 

“I think it’s pretty clear that our friendship is over, Eddie. I fucking hate you.” 

“I hate you, too sweetheart.” 

The tension is thick, spinning with bated breath and sexual desire. 

“So, we hate each other?”

“Yep.” Eddie muses, angling your chin so he can see your neck. 

“…and we aren’t friends?” 

He nods silently, pressing his nose to your cheek, “seems to be that way.” 

“You’ve ruined everything.”

“Good,” he all but whispers into your ear. 

“..a perfectly good pair of underwear.” 

His breath hitches in his throat, and he licks his lips. “Can’t have that.” 

“No, not at all,” you tease, thumbing at your waistband and letting your shorts hit the floor.

He steps back to examine you with wide eyes, letting them narrow as he bites his lip, looking you dead in the eyes. 

“I’m gonna fuck you exactly how you need to be fucked.” 

Pulling him back into you by his chain necklace you ask centimeters from his lips, tasting the heat from his mouth, “what are you waiting for?” 

He takes a deep breath, hovering his mouth over yours, “nothing, not anymore.”

His tongue hits you first, electric like an eel on your lips, his breath hot as fire. You moan out when his hands grip your ass, pulling you into him with such force you could have toppled over. 

Eddie is loud too. Groaning with each swipe of your tongue against his. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long, baby.” 

His dick is pressed into your middle, hard and kicking up as your hands reach into his hair, pulling you closer to him as if he were a rope and you were climbing a mountain. 

He pulls you away from the door to get a quick slap to your ass. Rough and hard and you’re mewling, his rings stinging your skin. 

Your lips close to his ear you whisper “Eddie… please.”

He pulls away after leaving a mark on your neck. 

“You don’t have to beg, I’ll give you whatever you need, however many times you want it, honey.”

His fingers dip into your waistband around your hips as he slides your panties down to your thighs.  “Let me see that cunt, show me what I did to you.” 

You step out of your panties and he lowers himself to the floor on bent knees. “Jesus Christ, look how pretty she is, ‘m gonna eat this pussy till you cum all over my face.” 

You nod dumbly, body on fire from his words, the lust of having his hands touch you in places he never had, places you dreamt he would, has your mind spinning. 

His bangs tickle your inner thighs, breath fanning on your clit, thumbs spreading you open. He sucks in a breath, whistling low.

A single flick of his tongue— that’s all it takes for your eyes to roll, for your back to bend in an arch like you were being exorcized of hell’s worst demons. Your fingernails scratching into the door trying to anchor yourself from grinding on his face until his nose broke. 

He spits, watching it drip down to your cunt, “don’t ask me to stop.” 

Diving in, his tongue is everywhere. Lapping you up, sucking your clit into his mouth. Swirling around like you would while eating an ice cream cone. Your chest heaves and your thighs tremble as he hooks one over his shoulder pressing into him and he gently pushes it back into place, his eyes never leaving your body. 

When it happens again, he shoves it down with force, nipping at one of your thighs, his lips shiny and wet he groans, “keep ‘em put.” 

The tip of his middle finger pushes into you, and you squeak out a gasp, leaning forward off the door to take a look at him, and he nearly laughs, “jesus, you’re tight sweetheart, gonna need to work you up a bit.” 

He smiles before attaching his mouth to your thigh, sucking a bruise as he fucks you with his fingers, adding a second that’s easier than the first. Your body rolls with his motions, pushing back against him and you know your orgasm is about to snap.

His tongue replaces his fingers and the heat in your stomach releases, untying the white knot and spilling over his lips as you scream out his name. 

“Thatta girl, fuck look at you, Christ.” 

Your eyes open, a strange drunk feeling taking over, as if you were high on a cloud and falling gracefully back to the earth. Opening to see the blackened eyes of the guy you’ve called your best friend for years, and if you would have known his tongue could do that, maybe you would have ruined this friendship a lot sooner.

“Fuck off Munson,” you mutter, out of breath as your foot gently sets on the ground.

“What?” he laughs.

“Just keeping the fact that you eat pussy better than the devil all to yourself huh? Selfish.”

His face splits into a grin laced with evil as he stands, licking his lips, “that’s not all I can do.” 

He’s on you in a flash, hoising you up into his arms, and using the other to hastily shove his boxers down. “Can’t go back after this.” 

“Oh this is the tipping point? Fucking is gonna ruin it not you just making going down on me?” 

He rolls his eyes as he lines himself up with you, “what happened to that sweet girl I used to chase in the trailer park, huh?” 

You reach around your legs and grab his thick cock and lightly sink down onto it the head barely pushing past your puffy lips, “fuck…met a boy who grew up and started selling weed out of his van, kind of an asshole, really big dick though.”

He thrusts up into you so hard you nearly see black, vision spotty from pleasure alone, you whine his name and he practically comes undone.

“Don’t.. shit… don’t do that, I won’t last. Those noises haunt me… been wanting to hear them.”

He holds you tight and fucks you slowly, dragging his cock at a ridiculously slow speed. Groaning when you suck him in deep, biting his neck. 

“There it is, the noise that started this whole mess.” 

He grins into you stupidly, “I’m glad you’re perverted plan worked, you little hussy.” 

His hips move faster and your both whining, accompanied by the slapping of skin on skin. “Water heaters’ been out since last week, ‘m not stupid babe, you’re the one who called and asked.” 

“Whoops— oh my goddd,” you squeal before you're panting like a dog and clawing his arms with your nails, he was splitting you wide open and you were near to tears. 

The tears finally fall when Eddie bottoms out in your cunt, filling you up, grunting your name as he rests his forehead to your shoulder— completely spent. 

His lips kiss your collar bone and you twirl a curl away from his face exhausted around his softening length. 

“Princess,” he breathes, kissing life back into himself with the sweat from your skin, “if you wanted to fuck, you should have told me sooner, could have saved us a week of cold showers, y’know?” 

You kissed his lips, letting him set you down on the bed so you could both lay back in a lazy post sex high, surrounded by your blankets. 

“Well maybe you should have fixed it sooner, you are the maintenance manager of the building.”  

Eddie grins and pins you onto the mattress, his hair falling into your face, his thumb sweeping over your cheeks to catch a rogue eyelash, “come with me to fix it?” 

“Hmm..” fingers moving his hair behind his ear, “you gonna wear that slutty stained white tank top?” 

“Slutty? Why, gonna seduce me in the boiler room?” his lips move down your neck and you whimper. 

“Maybe…” you tease tickling his underarm, “so if I wouldn’t have barged into your room… what else would you have done?” 

Eddie only smiles, thinking of his plan to “break” the air conditioner and hide your hoodies and blankets so you’d have to come to him for warmth. 

“Let’s just say, you would have ended up as my girl one way or another.” 

steve tied up in readers room

taglist: @likedovesinthewnd @dashingdeb16 @joejoequinnquinn @min-geniusx @ho3forfakeguys @taintedcigs @b-irock @queenimmadolla @serasvictoria @the-unforgivenn @curlyjoequinn @munsonlore @eiightysixbaby @munsonburn3r

[cultven]

Hello!!❤💛

Is it possible for you to do a fic where reader keeps putting cat ears and little bows on wolverines head while he's sleeping. logan is so sick of it and deadpool keeps getting blamed for it.

Until logan finds multiple pictures on readers phone😂

The Midnight Fashionista

Wolverine X Reader

Content: Roommate things, Arguing, Some Cursing, Domestic bliss, Mary Puppins, Just lots of cute fluffy and funny moments, You and Wade being best friends forever

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Very very small Wolverine/Deadpool violence

a/n: Another cute, shorter request while I work on the longer ones. I love the random domestic requests like this lol. This one-shot turned out a lot longer and admittedly better than I thought, so enjoy!

The first thing you heard bright and early in the morning was Logan shouting Wade’s name from your shared bedroom. Not in a sexual sense, but in pure rage. He burst through the door, finding the two of you perched at the breakfast table. “I told you to stop doing this shit! Next time I’m fucking gutting you and leaving you on the street to bleed out.” Logan raged, fighting with the cat headband and barrettes tangled in his hair. The cherry on top was the two small bows on each tuff of his wolf-like hair. He was still in his pajamas, clearly just woken up. 

“Sorry, beautiful, but that’s not my doing. It is a good look on you though.” Wade cooed through mouthfuls of cereal. 

“Oh, yeah? Well, I don’t fucking believe you.” 

“No, I’m being serious! That is a wonderful look for the Wolverine. Very cutesy.” 

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you freak of nature.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

You were just sitting silently, giggling at the banter. The cute accessories were of course your doing, but you understand where Logan is so adamant Wade was the culprit, it does seem like something he would do. You weren’t typically one for practical jokes like that, especially not on grumpy people like Logan, but you just couldn’t resist how cute he looked! The light pink bows and cute little cat ears paired with Logan’s beautiful relaxed sleeping face was just the cutest sight in the world. Your heart almost exploded the first time! Over the past week, your camera roll became filled to the brim with different poses and angles of Logan adorned in the accessories. Ever since saving the timeline, Logan has slept like a rock so you’ve thankfully gotten away with everything so far, but of course, the evidence is there when he wakes up. You know you could just take the accessories off when you’re done with your photo ops, but gauging his reaction to the mysterious bows is just so much funnier. Plus, the blame was always put on Wade anyway. 

Seeing as he wasn’t going to get an apology from Wade, Logan just grumbled patting your head as he walked past you, grabbing a protein bar, and heading back to the bedroom. You only smile innocently at the man before he’s out of sight, Wade turning to you suspiciously. “I know how fashionable Blind Al is with her matching tracksuits every goddamn day, but the bows are you, right?” You only smirk at Wade before taking a sip of tea. 

“Maybe.” You drag out the word playfully, watching Wade’s face perk up. 

“You backstabber! Throwing me under the bus every time. You truly are awful to me, peanut.” Wade feigns a look of betrayal, pouting his lip. 

“Hey! I never threw you under, Logan just assumed it was you because of your reputation. You did that to yourself, Wadey.” You pat his arm, standing up to grab yourself some more tea. 

“What’s gonna happen when I tell our hot-headed friend who is really to blame.” Wade rests his head on his fist, taunting you. 

“He probably wouldn’t believe you either way, but if you did,” You whip your phone out of your pocket, waving it in front of Wade’s confused face. “I wouldn’t share my collection of lovely photographs.” You gingerly put the phone back into your pocket before Wade could snatch the device out of your hands. 

“Oh em gee! No way you got those.” Wade’s eyes were practically popping out of his head, desperate for even a glance at one of the ridiculous photos on your phone. “I bet he looks like one of those really depressing kittens that people feel bad for!” Just as you were about to give him a taste of your photography skills Logan shuffles into the room, now decent for the day with casual clothes on. 

“Y/N are you ready?” Logan was leaning in the doorway. 

“Oh yeah, coming!” You reply, trotting over to the man offering him a sweet smile, one which he returned. It was Sunday which meant it was an errand day. Since Wade was a child when it came to his food selections, you and Logan were always the ones going grocery shopping instead. It was hard to explain to Wade that people cannot only live off of snacks and indulgent food. Well, maybe he and Logan could due to their powers, but you and Blind Al certainly couldn’t. You never minded going shopping anyway, especially not with Logan’s company. You enjoyed the domestic bliss of running errands together. “Wade, we'll be back in a few hours. We’re going clothes shopping first, lunch, and then food shopping. Don’t forget to take Mary Puppins out!”

“Aww, what!” Wade groaned, looking over at the two of you. “Y/N quickly text it to me before you leave, please!” He whined like a child, his hands making a grabbing motion out to you. 

“Text what?” Logan questioned, raising an eyebrow while looking between the two of you. 

“Just some stupid memes we saw earlier, Lo.” You wrapped your right arm around his left. “He’ll be ok without it. I’ll show you later, Wade.” You wink at the man throwing a fit, which makes him instantly pop up as if nothing had happened. 

“ ‘kay!” You just shook your head and led Logan out the door. After a few hours of nice conversation and peaceful shopping, you and Logan carried the bags up the stairs to the apartment. Well, Logan held the majority of the bags insisting on being a gentleman, leaving you with one small bag to carry. Unlocking the door you find Wade rotting away on the couch, one hand petting Mary Puppins, the other scooping handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. 

“Hmmhmm!” He excitedly exclaimed at your arrival, not making any eligible words. You only waved to him with a smile as Logan just completely ignored the man, beginning to unpack the bags in the kitchen. 

You kiss Logan’s cheek, “You can go take your shower if you want, I can do the unpacking.” His head craned down to look at you, a relaxed expression on his face. 

“You sure, bub?” You simply nodded with a smile, earning an appreciative look from Logan. He rubbed your arm, a loving gesture, before walking towards the bathroom. Once you were certain he was out of earshot, you made a ‘pst!’ noise over to Wade. His head shot over to your direction as you gestured for him to go over to you. 

“Look what I found at the store while Logan wasn’t looking.” You whisper, snickering as Wade takes the small objects in with all of their glory. 

“Holy shit! He’s going to look like a Barbie puked all over him!” He quietly celebrated, looking at your haul. There was a set of overly pink, sparkly cat ears, small butterfly barrettes that were also hot pink, and various other hair accessories for you to mess with your boyfriend with. “Oh also, don’t forget to show me those pictures, peanut! You’ve been edging me with that all day.” 

“Ew, let's not phrase it like that Wade, but here.” You unlock your phone and begin to scroll through the dozens of photos you’ve accumulated over the past week. Some blurry, some surprisingly high quality. You two were gawking over the photos, too enthralled in their cuteness, to realize that Logan had reappeared in the room, right behind you. 

“Hey Y/N, where’s that new shampoo you bought?” Noticing your lack of reaction or even acknowledgement of his existence he walks over to see what you pair were looking at. He immediately becomes baffled seeing the myriad of accessories and new ears laid out on the counter. What surprised him most of all was the collection of photos you were proudly displaying to your roommate. 

“What the fuck!?” Logan yelled, making the two of you jump. 

“I think I just peed my pants.” Wade warily stated, before turning around and waving. “Hey, big guy.” Claws can be heard penetrating through skin, leaving Wade to just yelp in surprise. 

“Logan! We’ve talked about this, no blood on the floor!” You scolded before he turned to you, immediately shutting up. 

“So it was you!” Logan exclaimed, not so much yelling in rage rather than embarrassment. His claws were now gone, not wanting to hurt you. 

“Well yes, but you have to admit you look super adorable in these photos!” You hold up your phone, scrolling through the many images. Logan just looks at the phone with bewildered eyes. 

“Delete those!” 

“But I worked so hard for them…”

“Y/N!” 

You sigh in defeat, looking down at the ground. “Ok, ok… I’ll delete them.” 

“Thank you.”

“If you continue letting me do it while you’re sleeping!”

“No!”

“Once a week?” You looked up at Logan with the best puppy eyes you could conjure up, pouting a little bit to play up the act. Logan only groaned, looking away from your pleading face. You were his only weakness and you knew it. 

“I’ll think about it.” Timeskip to the next morning you and Wade are sitting at the table once again, Wade throwing bits and pieces of his breakfast onto the floor for Mary Puppins while you mindlessly scroll through your phone. 

“Mornin’.” You heard a grumble. Looking up you capture the image of the Wolverine, still drunk with sleep, standing in the kitchen in nothing but boxer shorts and two small pink bows tied to the top of his head. As you sneakily try to raise your phone to get a good shot a hand with claws is pointed in your direction. “Remember our deal?” You only nodded with a small smile before putting your phone down and admiring the view. 

“I think I should glue some bows on your abs next.”

“Don’t even think about it, bub.”

[covenofagatha]

I adore your writing so much omg.

Agatha/Reader with a size kink and maybe include riding somewhere in there :))

I'm so tired lmao

writing size kink is lowkey really hard but hopefully i somewhat got it right

decided to combine this one with the priest!agatha fic cause i thought it was hot

literally going straight to hell for this 🫠🫣

Forgive me, Father (part 2)

You go back to confession after you can't stop thinking about Father Agatha

Word count: 2600

Warnings: religion kink, religious sex, strap-on, fingering, corrupt priest Agatha, naive and innocent and virgin reader, dubcon, slight size kink, probably some other filth

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three days since my last confession,” you say, just those words causing the memory of what happened last time to heat through you. 

The priest was already inside the booth when you came in and didn’t say a word even after your door was shut so you were forced to start. 

You still didn’t know who was in there next to you, but a part deep inside you is hoping for Father Agatha. 

The priest shifts in the booth and you bite your lip. “What do you have to confess, child?” 

It’s a man’s voice. 

Your face falls and now you have to come up with something to confess for because you don’t think he’ll be as understanding as she was. 

“I, um, the other day…” you start, completely fishing for something, when there’s a light through the partition. The door to the other half has been opened and you hear faint mutterings. 

The door closes and the priest clears his throat. “Excuse me, my child, but I must attend to an urgent matter.” 

“Oh,” you say, a little shocked. You’ve never known that they could just walk out of a confession like that. 

“Don’t fret. Father Agatha will be in shortly to hear the rest of it. She is a new wonderful addition to our parish and you’re in good hands,” he praises and you blush furiously. 

Good hands indeed. 

You cough. “We’ve met.” You can still feel her leg against your private parts – your pussy – and her fingers digging into your hips. The way pleasure rolled over your body because of her. The way her dark eyes tempted you to take a bite of the sweet, forbidden fruit of desire. 

The priest says something else that you don’t hear before getting out. You’re alone with your thoughts until the door opens again in a few minutes. 

Just from knowing that it’s her makes your heart get faster and your body starts to feel affected in the way only she makes it. 

“Hi, angel,” she says in her delightfully low voice. 

“Father Agatha,” you breathe. Her chuckle is sinful.

You can hear her moving around and her robes shuffle. You remember her pulling them up to her hips to show herself to you. “What do you have to confess, child?” 

“I can’t stop thinking about the other day,” you admit. “I even gave in and tried to touch myself like how you showed me, but I couldn’t get to that thing at the end. Like last time.”

You think you can hear her smirking. “You couldn’t orgasm? Poor thing, you must be so hot and bothered.” 

You squirm, not even trying to hide it. You’ve been so needy the past few days and you don’t know what to do. “I need help to get rid of these thoughts. I’ve tried praying and I did all the Hail Mary’s you said to but I feel like I’m still being corrupted. You said that you could help.” Your voice comes out whinier than intended but you don’t care. 

“I can help, my child. Why don’t you come back over here?”

This time, you need no extra convincing. You slide into her booth, sinking down to your knees already. You hear a sharp intake of air from her and she reaches out to brush your hair out of her face. 

“What do you want?” She asks and your eyes are pleading as they look up at her from the floor. 

“I want you to cleanse me of these thoughts,” you beg. This is a sin, you know that, and you don’t want to go to Hell. You’ll do anything to stop this heat inside you. 

Father Agatha tilts her head to the side to think about what she can do. “I don’t know if I can cleanse them entirely,” she says finally and you want to cry. “But I can quench them for now.” 

“How?” You ask, barely above a whisper. 

You hold your breath when she begins to pull up her robes again and reaches down to pull something out from the fabric between her legs. Your mouth falls open. You’re not sure what it is, but it’s long, thick, and purple. She grabs ahold of the base close to her skin and shakes it a little. 

“What is that?” It both terrifies you and makes the throbbing inside you a little worse. 

“Have you ever seen a penis?” She asks bluntly and your ears burn. 

“Of course not! I’m not married! But that’s not–” You know that she doesn’t have one, you saw her pussy last time. And you at least know that they’re not purple. 

She chuckles and spits down onto the thing, using her hand to spread the saliva over it. Your body betrays you and your breathing quickens. What is happening to you?

“No, this isn’t a penis,” she agrees. “It’s a special toy that has been blessed by God. If you orgasm around this, it will stop those thoughts.” 

You bite your lip, staring at the toy. “How is it supposed to fit inside me? It’s so big.” Her grin grows wider if possible. 

“We’ll make it fit,” she promises but it does little to quell the fear. 

“Will it hurt?” You ask timidly. 

Father Agatha tilts her from side to side. “Maybe a little. You’ll just have to get yourself ready.” Before you can ask how, she answers. “It will help if you stretch yourself out on your fingers first.”

Your mouth drops open. Last time was the first time you’d ever touched down there and you had just rubbed your clit over your underwear. The past three days, you had only also done that and tried to move against your pillow, no skin-on-skin contact. And now she wants you to put a finger inside?

“Is that even allowed?” You ask hushedly. “Isn’t that a sin?” 

She finally stops stroking the toy and reaches the hand out to cup your cheek. You can feel the stickiness on her palm and the sudden urge to lick it flits through your mind. 

You seriously need help. 

“Why don’t you let me do it, then? My hands are tools of the Lord. Nothing more holier. Let me help you.” 

You nod slowly and she smirks, patting her thighs. You get up from your knees, wincing at the soreness, and sit on her lap again, the ache inside you only growing worse from being this close. 

The toy is laying against your stomach and it’s a soft, spongy texture. It feels weird but you can’t help but imagine what it’ll be like inside you. 

Father Agatha’s hand slides under the skirt you’re wearing to touch you over your underwear and your hips jump. It’s a very different feeling than your own. 

She groans as she moves her fingers up and down, pressing the fabric against you, and you can feel how soaked it is. 

“Father,” you gasp out when she rubs at your clit. The sensation is so very new and feels so very good. You want her to keep doing it. 

“You’re such a special girl,” Father Agatha coos. “So pure, so innocent. Such a devout follower.”

You wonder if this is how the Virgin Mary felt when the angel came down to tell her that God had hand picked her. 

Or how Jesus felt when he was tempted by the Devil in the desert during those forty days. 

She slides your underwear to the side and you think you’ve died and gone to heaven when her bare hand cups you. 

Your head falls back and you let out a long moan. She traces up and down, collecting your wetness, and swirling it against your clit. You clutch onto her shoulders like she's a lifeline. 

You can’t believe you’ve never done this before. 

“Feels good, angel?” She asks, her voice husky. You nod desperately, but tense when she probes a fingertip at your hole. “Just relax.” 

You try to and you take a deep breath, but when she begins to push in, you clench so tightly you’re worried it’s going to hurt her finger. 

“It’s okay,” she coaxes, thumb rubbing your clit again. That helps you loosen up, but she doesn’t move, letting you adjust. “Your tiny little pussy has never had anything in it. But we’ll get there.” 

You bite your lip and give her the go ahead. She moves an inch and you gasp. You can’t seem to let go and unwind and she frowns. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, face turning red with humiliation. 

She tuts sotfly. “It’s okay, angel. I know what it must feel like. Why don’t you say one of your prayers? It will help take your mind off this.”

You nod, meeting her eyes that look like darkness has swallowed them whole. “Our Father, who art in heaven-” 

She pushes the rest of her finger inside you and you momentarily lose the ability to speak. 

The intrusion is not unwelcome and she experimentally curls her finger, tapping onto something inside of you that makes you whimper. She smirks wickedly and does it again. 

Your hips roll. 

“Father,” you moan, and when she keeps doing it and rubs at your clit, your entire body spasms. 

“Keep going, angel,” she urges. 

It takes a lot of effort to regain your thoughts. “Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done-” She waits for you to get a few lines out before moving all the way back out and pushing back in. 

You squeal and grab onto her tighter. She gives you a look and you know what it means. She waits until you start talking again to begin moving faster. 

“On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” 

Father Agatha pulls out of you and you groan at the emptiness but you’re quickly even more full when she pushes two fingers in. 

Your head drops forward onto her shoulder and you mewl loudly. 

“Too much, Father,” you cry. She rubs your clit frantically and doesn’t move until you slowly begin to loosen around her. Once you adjust, it feels even better and when she curls them to touch that special spot and –

– God. 

You don’t even feel bad about using the Lord’s name in vain. 

“So perfect, your tiny pussy feels so good around my fingers,” Father Agatha pants. “Never felt anything so tight. Can’t wait to fill you up with my big cock, watch you stretch around it.” 

Her filthy words make you flush but the heat inside you gets worse. Why do you find that so hot?

“Lead us not into temptation,” you start again, the irony not lost on you. It seems the priest also gets it because she twists her fingers with an evil smirk and it makes you whimper. You can feel yourself on that ledge you were on last time, the one that is an all-consuming wave of pleasure, and you’re just about to tip over. “And deliver us from evil.” 

“Amen,” Father Agatha finishes the prayer for you, swiping roughly at your clit and thrusting deeply. 

You orgasm all over her fingers and it feels even more intense than the last time. She gently keeps moving her fingers while you come down from your high and you rest your forehead against hers. Instead of feeling satisfied when she pulls them out, you only feel more empty and needy.

“Do you think you’re ready to take my special toy, angel?” She asks, moving her hand that’s wet with you up and down. You gulp and look at it. “It will feel so good, I promise.” 

“Okay,” you whisper and her smirk makes you feel things. She helps you hold yourself up while she positions the tip at your entrance after rubbing it through your folds a few times. You slide down the tiniest bit and you keen. 

If you thought her fingers were a tight fit, this is something entirely new. Father Agatha whispers sweet nothings, circling your clit again to make you less tense, and she slowly helps guide you down. 

“Oh, my God,” you moan. She is so big inside you and it’s stretching you out more than you thought possible. 

“Just Father Agatha is fine,” she remarks coyly, eyes never moving away from watching you take her in. “Angel, you’re so perfect, you’re taking my big cock so well in your tiny pussy. You look so delicious wrapped around me like that.” 

Hearing her talk about the toy like it’s actually part of her makes you grow even hotter and you finally make it to the bottom, the entire thing inside you. 

You feel so full; you think you can feel her in your ribcage. 

“Can I move?” She asks and you nod shakily. Her hands help you bounce up and down, just little movements at first, but gradually turning into sliding you to the top and then back to bottoming out. 

The burn inside you gives way to a wonderful feeling and you can feel her dragging the toy, her cock, against every ridge and groove inside you. 

Father Agatha groans when you start to take the initiative and ride without so much of her help. You’re chasing the pleasure that’s building up inside you and it’s so much better than anything you’d had before. 

“Look at you, angel, taking my big cock so well in your tiny pussy. If you weren’t such a good girl, I would’ve assumed you’ve done this before. But you’re so perfect and pure and innocent and God’s gift to the world,” she says, voice rough. “Do you like my cock?” 

You nod harder than you ever have in your life. “Feels so good, Father. This can’t be a sin.” 

Father Agatha shakes her head. “It’s not, angel. Anytime you feel that heat inside you and you think those dirty thoughts, come to me and I’ll help you. It’s not a sin if you’re with a priest.” 

She begins slamming her hips up into you as you drive down to meet her thrusts. She rubs your clit even harder now and you completely convulse all over the toy, the pleasure crashing through you so much more greatly than even before, clenched around her fingers. 

You feel like King Solomon, chasing after true gratification, but unlike him whose search is futile, you’ve found it in the arms of a priest. 

You slump against her, who softly strokes your back while you regain your strength. 

“How do you feel now?” She asks. “Are those dirty thoughts you were having gone?” 

You shift and wince at the toy still inside you. She lifts you up so it can slip out. You feel thoroughly ruined and you just want to take a nap. No more heat in you at all. “Yes, they are, Father. Thank you.” 

She pats your thighs and you stand up, blood rushing back to your stiff legs. 

“Glad I could help, child. It’s my duty as a priest to help you strengthen your relationship with God, and if this is what it takes with you, I’m more than willing to do it whenever you need.”

You run a hand through your hair and think about it. “We might need to do this a few more times,” you admit. You still don’t know how to take care of the problem yourself, and like she said, it’s okay if it’s with a priest. 

She smirks like the Devil incarnate. “I look forward to it.” 

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Okay so…I may have taken the innocence thing just a bit too far? I grew up Mormon and now I have a shit load of religious trauma and I think that propelled this one a bit so…I hope it was everything you wanted and if it isn’t I’m so sorry😅 but this is probably the most fun fic that I’ve ever gotten a request for and now I want to write more like it🤣

I apologize in advance

Warnings: Major Innocence Kink which pushes its way into Dub-Con, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink (Dd-Lg), Religious Trauma

DD:DNE

This is a Religious Fic.

Don’t Like = Don’t Read!!

It’s possible I took the innocent thing a bit too far but considering you didn’t want her to know what sex was at all I assume that’s what you wanted? I hope it’s what you intended.

If you had told Klaus that one day he would work at an all girls catholic school he wouldn’t have believed you. Here he is though, Saint Holy Mary’s School for Girls as an Art teacher and he’s never been happier.

When Klaus met Y/n he knew she was perfect, she had been home for summer break at the time and Klaus scared off some teenage boys making vulgar comments to her as she walked home. They talked for a few minutes and it didn’t take Klaus long to understand that she’s innocent. Alarmingly innocent. She’s a teenager who is almost an adult that no one has taught about sex, and while Klaus wanted to know how that’s even possible, he decided instead to just enjoy the gift he has been given in the form of his innocent little Bunny.

She was shocked to see him in the school but pleasantly surprised, she blushed whenever he spoke to her, blushed whenever she saw him in the halls or at meals and blushed whenever he complimented her projects. Klaus had spent nearly 2 months just getting her comfortable in his presence, she spends a lot of time with him and often helps him with things that get her out of different classes. Y/n loved spending time with Klaus just as much as he did with her, she proved it the first time he touched her, though she clearly hadn’t understood what was going on and he found it truly adorable.

‘Might as well just spend the rest of class here love, there’s 20 more minutes.’ She shrugged, blushing as he pulled a chair over beside him for her to sit in. She made herself comfortable and Klaus couldn’t keep from looking at her legs, the short skirt she was forced to wear everyday showing several inches above her mid thigh and he couldn’t stop from imagining them wrapped around his head. ‘So, tell me Y/n, what made your parents choose this school for you? Were you too naughty for them to control anymore or did your parents go here?’ Once again her face was red as she quickly corrected him.

‘My mom went here! I didn’t-I’m not-‘

‘I was teasing love, I know you’re the most innocent girl here.’ He was still teasing her, wanting to see how she would react and she didn’t disappoint him.

‘I’m not that innocent. I just don’t like to break the rules…my dad never paid much attention to me when I was a kid unless I did something right so breaking the rules wasn’t really an option I guess…I don’t like-‘

‘You don’t like people to be disappointed in you. It’s a good thing, but I don’t think anyone could be disappointed in you Bunny, you’re perfect.’ He could practically smell the blood rushing to her cheeks as he rested a hand on her knee but she didn’t pull away. ‘Such a good girl.’

‘Thank you, you’re always so sweet, I love getting to talk to you Mr.Mikaelson.’

‘Ah ah ah. What have I told you about that? You call me by my first name now that we’re friends. You wouldn’t want me to be…disappointed in you would you?’ He questioned, moving his hand up to hold her thigh and seeing his fingers only about 2 inches from touching her panties making her breath just a bit heavier.

‘No! I’m sorry, I just, it’s weird to call a teacher by his name is all-‘

‘But we’re friends. After all this time I thought we were…more than friends even?’ Her eyes widened and she held the sleeve of his red Henley tightly.

‘Of course we are! We’re best friends! I’m sorry Klaus, you know I love spending time with you.’ He couldn’t help his smile at her nearly idiotic level of innocence as she thought he meant ‘best friends’ even as he has his hand almost under her skirt.

‘It’s okay. I love being your best friend, you’re my precious little Bunny. I could never really be disappointed in you love.’ His hand squeezed her flesh and she gasped quietly just before he caught a heavenly scent coming from her making his fangs ache in desperate need of being buried in her throat. In the 2 months he had known her, he had never smelled that sweet slick between her legs until now and he could see as she pushed them together that she didn’t quite understand what the feeling in her stomach was. He would have to teach her everything…he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about that.

For the next month he got her accustomed to him touching her, arms, legs, back, face, his hands anywhere on her body wasn’t something she minded, not even when he hugged her from behind and rested his hands on her lower belly. That’s when he knew, when she leaned back into him and pushed her thighs together, he knew he could have her.

The next time they were alone together he made sure they had plenty of time. Y/n was scheduled to stay at home that weekend but Klaus made sure something came up with her parents so she couldn’t go. When she spoke to him, he convinced her to not tell the school and just spend the weekend at his place. It would be fun. She was so excited by the idea of spending time with her friend outside of school that she barely worried about the broken rules, getting off at the first bus stop after leaving the school and hopping into his car with a huge smile on her face.

Klaus had gotten all kinds of snacks and drinks, ordering takeout and relaxing with her eating everything she’s not normally allowed to. He had also gone to the store and gotten her clothes, both pajamas and day clothes to wear if she wanted to go someplace tomorrow or Sunday, all of which were short or revealing and he had her change into black short shorts and a tank top with a wolf on it. Last but not least he put on an R rated movie. She argued but didn’t put up too much of a fight about it. It was a horror movie and she was shocked by the cursing and the drugs, but she enjoyed the stupidity of the characters and how they died.

It wasn’t until they got to the reason Klaus chose this movie that she seemed uncomfortable. She watched as the teenage boy pulled his girlfriend onto his lap and ripped her top off, her tits flashing on the screen before he seemed to make a meal out of them.

Klaus had ensured that Y/n was pressed against his side firmly with his arm around her waist so that he wouldn’t need to pull her closer when the scene came on.

As the boy continued kissing down her body he flipped the girl over and ripped off her panties, shoving his face into her. Y/n gasped, completely stunned by this action and looking up at Klaus in shock. ‘What are they doing?’ She questioned and he looked down at her, trying to stay neutral.

‘They’re having sex love, being normal teenagers. You…you know what sex is…don’t you?’

‘Of course I do, I…it’s to make babies…my mom said I didn’t need to know until…until I was ready to get married. They’re sinning.’ Klaus chuckled at that and Y/n looked back up at him confused before turning back to the television and watching as the boy began thrusting into the girl roughly and she began crying out in pleasure.

‘All teenagers have sex Y/n, it’s more strange not to have done it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t support mindless sex with a bunch of people you don’t know but if you love someone, really care for them then you should express that with them. You don’t have to make a baby, there’s ways to avoid it if you want to but sex is called ‘making love’ for a reason, it’s the best way to express your care for that special someone.’ She looked confused but he could also smell her excitement. ‘They love each other, so they’re making each other feel good. It’s normal and I’m so sorry you’ve been deprived of basic knowledge…do you see her face?’ He asked, knowing exactly how he was going to convince her to let him touch her. ‘What does her face look like?’

‘Happy…really happy.’

‘Right, and the sounds she’s making? Tell me, what do her sounds make you feel?’ Her face was redder than he had ever seen and she looked away from the TV quickly before he tilted her head up. ‘It’s okay Y/n, I love you. You can tell me how you’re feeling. I would never betray your trust and tell anyone anything. You can be honest with me…do you want me to tell you first?’ She nodded quickly and he tried desperately to hide his smile. ‘Well, when I hear her moaning like that I…honestly it makes me desperate to know what you would sound like if you felt good.’ Y/n was now turned toward his body and holding his Henley tightly, clearly trying to calm her breathing as she got too excited. ‘What are you feeling right now? I won’t make fun of you, I want to help.’

‘I…I feel tingly in…in bad places Klaus…sometimes when-Oh God-‘

‘It’s okay. You’re doing so good Bunny, so, so good for me.’ He pulled her onto his lap gently and ran his hands up her sides.

‘When you…t-touch me I get…I feel hot…and tingly…and I get…I-I get-‘

‘Does your pussy get wet for me Bunny?’ She groaned out, in embarrassment and relief both but he didn’t care as he gripped onto her thigh tightly. ‘It’s normal. It means you love me a whole lot, just like I love you.’ Her whimper was quiet but instant.

‘You do?’ He nodded. ‘Do…do you get wet too?’

How stupid is her fucking mother that she could teach her daughter basic-fuck that women!

‘No Bunny, but my cock gets hard for you whenever you touch me, or I think about you, sometimes at night I touch myself and just think about how precious and beautiful you are and it makes my cock feel so much better. When a man’s cock gets too hard it hurts and you are always the one who makes the pain stop, you make me feel so good Precious.’

‘Are you in pain now Klaus?’ She wondered and this was exactly how he knew he would get her to let him do anything he fucking wanted.

‘Yes Bunny, I’ve been in pain since the movie started.’ She looked up at him in shock and worry making him wince a bit as he moved to prove his discomfort.

‘How do you make it stop hurting, I can-I can leave you alone if you need-‘

‘Don’t leave me Bunny, no! Please? I need to hold you Y/n, don’t go-‘

‘Okay. I’m not going anywhere.’ She reached up, running her fingers through his hair and it sent a shiver down his spine.

‘Have you ever seen a cock before?’ He asked her and she shook her head, probably thankful she couldn’t get redder than she is. ‘Do…do you want to?’ She hesitated before looking back up at him and nodding, trying to look determined which made her all the more adorable. He moved slowly so she didn’t get scared, it had been probably about 200 years since he had fucked a virgin and he knew he needed to be even slower with Y/n. He pushed his sweat pants down along with his boxer briefs, his cock standing straight and hard, leaking at the tip, and completely red which seemed to make her believe he was in serious pain.

As if Y/n couldn’t control herself she reached her hand out and touched his tip, dragging her finger down his length before yanking her hand away when he groaned. ‘I’m Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I-‘

‘No Bunny, no! You made me feel so good, so fucking good! Please just…oh God, please touch me? Please Bunny, help me?’ His desperate cries of pain were too much for her and she reached out, wrapping her hand around his cock, watching him throw his head back as his hand tightened on her thigh. She pumped her hand up and down his length a few times before her eyes found his tip which was leaking. She swiped her thumb across it and his hips thrust up, nearly throwing her off of his lap. ‘My good girl, so good for me! Such a good little Bunny for your Daddy! Don’t stop? Please?!’ He held her hand and helped her speed up for a few moments before looking back down at her and his eyes flashing to her lips. ‘Y/n…will you do something else for me?’

She nodded quickly. ‘Anything Daddy.’

Fuck! He could have cum right there and been completely happy with it but he pushed it back. ‘Please? Daddy needs your lips.’

‘My-my lips?’

He nodded. ‘Please? Just the tip if you want, suck on it like I gave you a lollipop…can you do that Precious?’ She looked back down at his cock before smiling and nodding her head, moving from his lap and kneeling. He could see the excitement in her eyes and he knew right away he was creating a desperate whore. He was going to ruin this girl and he couldn’t care any fucking less, she would belong to no one but him for the rest of eternity and he would never let anyone else touch her perfect body so…how wrong is it really?

She wrapped her lips around his tip and suckled, tongue running over his slit which made his legs stiffen and shake as she did it again, dragging her lips down his length and moaning. That was the final straw for him. He had imagined her mouth and her noises so many times and nothing came close to this, she was perfection and she was never getting away from him. He held the back of her head still as he came up into her mouth and though she jerked a bit at first she got used to it and quickly swallowed, sucking on his cock for more. ‘Did I make you feel better?’ He couldn’t speak, only nod in that moment of total bliss, head thrown back against the couch to keep her from seeing the dark veins under his golden eyes until he could get his hybrid visage under control again, Fuck this girl does things to him! ‘Can I have more cream Daddy?’

‘Oh Fuck!’ Her innocent eyes and words were going to push him over the edge much too quickly. ‘Daddy…Daddy wants to give you more cream. I’ll give you Daddy cream all you want Babygirl but…do you think Daddy can put it somewhere else?’ She tilted her head, looking up at him from her knees. ‘Do you trust me?’ Y/n nodded her head quickly and he smirked, knowing this would be easier than he thought. ‘Can I show you?’

‘Yes Daddy.’ God he’s going to stretch her pussy so much this weekend there will be a permanent indentation of his cock. He lifted her up and laid her onto the couch, throwing his shirt away and grabbing ahold of hers, pulling it off and quickly keeping her arms from covering her perfect tits. They were just the perfect size for his hands and so fucking cute that he couldn’t resist leaning down and wrapping his lips around a nipple, her hips flying up when his teeth nibbled. He took full advantage, dragging his hands down her sides and holding onto her shorts and panties, nibbling again and pulling the clothes down and off as her hips thrust up again. ‘Daddy!’

‘Shh…it’s okay Y/n, it’s just Daddy. I love you Bunny, and I want to spend the rest of eternity at your side making your pussy drip for me, do…do you want me?’ He asked, seeming nervous so that she feels needier for him.

‘Yes Daddy, forever but…you’re my teacher, how-‘

‘You let me worry about that, Daddy will make it all okay…just let Daddy…let Daddy inside of you.’ He groaned, pushing her legs apart and squeezing her thighs with an image of his girl round with his baby burned into his brain, silently begging whatever Gods exist if any to allow him to be able to put a baby in his Little Bunny. Leaning his face down into her wetness he licked his tongue up her slit, lapping at her like a thirsty animal before caressing her clit with the tip of his tongue.

‘Oh Daddy! Don’t Stop! Please?!’ He didn’t, he shoved his face into her cunt and ate her like his life depends on it. He wrapped his hand around hers as he wiggled his tongue against her clit and felt her legs lock around his head as she reached her peak for the first time ever, crying out so loud he knew the neighbors would hear if he’d had any. When he pulled away he crawled back up her chest and kissed her neck, lining his cock up at her hole and pushing his way into her before she had time to have doubts, still on cloud nine as he pushed the last 2 inches in a short thrust and she squealed.

‘That’s it Bunny, oh god you’re so perfect. So fucking perfect! So tight on my-‘

‘Daddy! Y-You’re in-inside…you can’t-‘

‘Clearly I can. And I am.’ He turned her face to look up at him and made sure she was looking him in the eyes. ‘My cock is in your pussy right now, so deep you can practically feel me in your guts, can’t you?’ She nodded, whining. ‘This is my pussy now, all mine. No one can ever take you away from me…you have the most perfect cunt I’ve ever seen baby.’ He pulled back a few inches before pushing in again and pressing his lips to her lips for the first time. ‘Tell me Bunny, what was it you wanted from Daddy?’

‘Daa-ah!’ He thrust up again when she didn’t answer and he smirked, feeling his fangs trying to push out of his gums as he became more and more desperate to mark her.

‘Tell me what you wanted.’

‘D-Daddy cream…wanted m-more Daddy cream…please Daddy? Can I have more?’ She was begging now, whining in desperation for his cum in her womb.

‘Daddy will always give you cream. Daddy’s gonna fill you with so much you’ll be leaking for days. We’re going to fill you with cream for the next 2 days and maybe I’ll keep you even longer just to make sure it’s all properly fucked into you.’

‘Yes! Daddy cream! Want you inside me Daddy, inside me forever! Your cock feels so good! Why did no one tell me it feels so good! Can you stay inside me forever? Daddy, please?’

‘Oh Bunny…Daddy’s gonna breed this little body so much, gonna fill you with my cum over and over again until you’re a leaking, fucked out mess, until all you can do is whine and babble my fucking name! Until all you can say is ‘please Daddy more?’ And I’ll fill you over and over until it takes and you’re carrying my baby inside of your gorgeous body.’ Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, his hips thrusting harder as she realized what he meant, what he was really doing. ‘That’s right Bunny, you’re gonna give Daddy babies, gonna fill you with my babies over and over and still you’ll be desperate for more. Cause you know what bunnies do? They breed, they breed like crazy, they get Fucked-‘ he thrust hard getting deeper into her, now holding her legs up and getting as deep as he physically can. ‘-until they can’t anymore and then they do it again cause they’re so needy and desperate and slutty that they can’t stop. You have a slutty little pussy Bunny, are you ready for Daddy to fill it?’

He knew he wouldn’t stop even if she said ‘no’ but he wanted her to want it, because she is his for the rest of eternity. ‘P-please? Daddy cream! Fill my pussy Daddy! Please?!’

‘That’s my good girl. Daddy’s good girl, gonna be so full of me! Fuck!’ He shoved his cock into her as deeply as he could, feeling her pussy squeezing him through her own orgasm and practically milking his cock for all he could give her and Klaus had never felt so blissful, not in 1000 years.

He kept himself buried inside of her cunt, holding her close and pulling a blanket over the both of them, nuzzling into her throat to find some comfort before drifting off to sleep with the TV sound in the background.

Sometime in the night Klaus had moved them upstairs to his bed and cleaned the both of them up. Later that morning he was awoken by the girl in his arms moving, opening his eyes to see her sitting up and keeping the sheet wrapped around her body.

‘I saw it all last night gorgeous, might as well leave the sheet.’ She turned her head to look down at him and as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes he was moving. ‘Oh no, Bunny! No tears, why are you crying?’ To his relief she didn’t fight him, crying into his bare chest as he held her.

‘What am I going to do?!’ She cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and sniffling.

‘What do you mean? You’re going to stay right here, with me. I love you Y/n, and all you and I did last night was show our love for each other, there’s nothing wrong with that-‘

‘Unless I’m Pregnant! My Mom Is Going To Kill Me! I’m a disappointment to God and my father-Oh God My Father! He’s gonna kill me-‘ Klaus clamped his hand over Y/n’s mouth to stop her sobbing.

‘No one is Ever going to hurt you, and do you know why?’ She shook her head, tears streaming down her sweet face which he reached to wipe away. ‘Because you’re my Little Bunny. All mine. You asked last night why you weren’t told how good you could feel, remember?’ She nodded. ‘You weren’t told so that they could control you. You’re almost an adult and no one told you about anything, that’s wrong and cruel and dangerous! You gave yourself to me last night and I am going to spend the rest of our lives worshipping my girl like a Princess…you still love me…don’t you?’

‘Yes! Of course I do Klaus! I love you so much but my father will never let me be with you! He doesn’t care what I want, he will choose my husband once I graduate-‘

‘Y/n, you’ve already chosen. You’re 18, an adult, able to make your own choices. No one can tell you what to do anymore unless you want them to…we can go. Go back to the school, pack your things, I’ll quit my job and we can be together.’ Klaus knew when he looked at her curious eyes that he had her, he was going to make this happen and the best part is Y/n will think she made her own decision for the first time ever.

‘But what about your job? We’ll go live together with no income? I won’t have a diploma so I can’t get a job to-‘

‘You will never have a job!’ Klaus swore and she looked startled. ‘I have plenty of money, I’m an artist, I sell my work all the time. I worked in that school because…because I fell in love with you. I know it’s crazy, of course it is but I couldn’t leave you Y/n! You were already my everything…please tell me you’ll come with me? I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted! A wonderful house on acres and acres of woods and privacy, no one to bother us…except maybe my siblings on occasion but they’ll love you! Your parents won’t be able to control you anymore. You can wear what you want, anything you want, eat what you want, read, write, study, learn whatever you want! I’ll give you jewelry and silk sheets, a maid, the library you always talk about wanting, I can-‘

‘I just want you…’ Klaus’ eyes widened at her soft words. ‘I don’t need all that fancy stuff if I have you…don’t get me wrong, it sounds wonderful but can…can you promise me you’ll never leave me? That it will always be us for the rest of forever?’

He smirked at that, knowing instantly that the deal was sealed, Y/n is all his. ‘Forever and a day my precious girl. I love you so much, and we’re going to be so happy together.’ Y/n grinned, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his lips to hers in a wonderful, needy kiss. ‘I’m going to make you scream in pleasure every night until you can’t remember your own name anymore, Bunny.’

She pulled back from his lips, peeking up at him with a shy look. ‘Daddy’s gonna give me babies?’

And just like that his cock was so hard he felt like a teenager again, desperately horny with an erection that won’t quit. Y/n is going to be full of him there’s no way she won’t end up carrying his child and he already has plans to speak to a witch about ensuring it. ‘Daddy’s going to fill you with babies everyday, every single day until it takes. Gonna keep you so full you won’t know what it’s like to be empty anymore…in fact, we should fill you up before we go get your things, shouldn’t we?’ Y/n squealed as Klaus lifted her, sitting her onto his lap and holding her up with one arm around her waist as he lined his cock up with her dripping hole. ‘Already soaking wet for Daddy, my needy little whore. So perfect-‘ She gasped loudly, looking down at him in desperation.

‘Not a whore Daddy! I’m not! I would never-‘

‘No, Shh, Shh, Shh. It’s okay Princess, My whore. Daddy’s whore, My girl who will do all the wonderful, depraved things Daddy wants you to. Do you understand? Not A whore, My whore. Any other cock comes anywhere near you I’ll cut it off and stick it up their ass.’ He pushed his cock up into her and she whined, still a bit sore from last night but feeling too good to care.

They ended up staying in bed for another 4 hours, Klaus filling his girl 3 more times before taking a nap together. Getting to the school and compelling the Dean was arguably too easy and they were long gone before Y/n’s parents ever came looking for her. It’s not like they would want her back with how badly Klaus had corrupted her.

Their little girl was gone.

She’s Klaus’ Little Bunny now.

Religious Teachings Moodboard

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[mmurazz]

love on act. lhs

previous. | main. | next.

AFTER GOING TO THE MALL, you bought some clothes, mainly a dress that you might use for the party, honestly this is your first time going to a formal party, most parties you’ve been are never this formal, so you picked a white silk dress that flows down to your feet, then a pair of white mary janes heels, and lastly a few jewelry to match the final look. It was still 5 pm in the afternoon so you had plenty of time to get ready. You put on some light makeup, then curl your hair to make it flowy, and lastly you put on the dress, and finally accessories, and you’re off to go. 

Heeseung was waiting downstairs, looking at his watch. He glares at you, but says nothing. He hold out his hand, waiting for you to take it. 

“Come on, we’ll be late.” He complains, looking annoyed.

“Right..” you replied and took his hand, and went inside the passenger seat, and he sat at the driver seat. 

The car ride was very quiet, or.. maybe too quiet, you both sat there in silence, only sounds of cars passing by can be heard from the inside. You both arrived at the destination, he went out of the driver’s seat and opened the passenger door for you. He takes you to the red carpet party, there are tons, and tons of paparazzi. He takes your arm and leads you to the paparazzi, as you both start to smile at them. 

Heeseung smiles for the camera, and then wraps an arm around your waist as if he was in love with you. He whispers in your ear, “Pretend to love me and be affectionate with me. Otherwise, I'll end you.” He warns you, just to make sure you won’t act badly, so you decide to act also.

He smiles and wraps his arms around you, he kisses your head as he whispers in your ear, “Just follow my lead, and act like you love me.” He warns again, before looking at the camera and smiling again. The paparazzi snap some photos, some ask you some questions but you can only answer a few before some more photos are taken. Heeseung takes your hand and guides you inside the party. 

There are tons of rich people at the party, you sat at a circular table that was surrounded by seats, and Heeseung has left you alone, and is now talking to some CEO’s. You don’t really know what to do now, there is a buffet filled with all kinds of foods, you want to eat but, who knows if you are going to get poisoned. You can hear some whispering, some people are gossiping about your relationship between you and Heeseung, you decide to ignore the gossiping, instead you decide to eat some food, there are multiple dishes, like salad, sushi, there’s steak, and plenty of other choices for anyone, some people are watching and gossiping even more, it’s really hard to ignore their stares. 

“I heard that Heeseung’s new wife came from money.” 

“Yeah, I saw her, they don’t really look good together.” 

“I wonder how they ended up together, did Heeseung’s parents force her into this marriage? She seems so innocent.” 

They keep on gossiping and some are even staring at you, making you feel uncomfortable. You decided to eat some salad, and drink some wine to ease your comfort. You continue to eat the salad and drink wine, occasionally some of the gossiping people would come up to you and ask if your relationship is real or not, a few of them also tell you that they think you guys are cute together, you continue to eat and ignore them. 

THERE ARE SOME MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND, and Heeseung is now dancing with another women, some of them even look at you and smirk they know that they’re making you feel jealous, and they’re probably right, you don’t really care anyways since it’s just an arranged marriage because they don’t have feelings for each other, right?

Heeseung dances with multiple women, and you don’t know why you feel hurt or upset that he’s dancing with other women, maybe it’s jealousy or heartbreak. You don’t know, but the truth is you are upset, but you can’t admit it. What are you, jealous? No, why would you be jealous, you’re in an arranged marriage and you don’t love each other. 

You sat down at the table, and continued to watch Heeseung dance with the other women, he looks like he;s enjoying himself, but you feel a little jealous and angry for some reason. It doesn’t make sense, why are you jealous? You both don’t even have feelings for eachother, you only act on it. So you decided to go outside to the garden and look out at the night view. As you get up from your chair, you hear some more gossip about you, the whispers are just following you everywhere you go. 

As you walked outside into the garden, the view was beautiful, it was filled with beautiful flowers, the night sky was illuminated with stars, and the moon was shining bright, it shines like a star against the dark black sky, the wind blowing against your body, making you shiver. 

While you’re in the garden, you look up at the stars from time to time, and you feel a bit lonely. You look at the other people in the garden, most of them are couples, happily chatting and laughing, you feel a bit envious and lonely. You stand there for a bit, looking up at the stars, and looking at the happy couples laughing, you suddenly feel cold, so you wrap your arms around yourself and hug yourself to feel warm, you felt a tap on your shoulder, you looked behind and found Heeseung standing there, looking at you with a blank expression on his face. 

“What..?” You asked him.

Heeseung stood there, not looking too happy, this made you worry a little, but you said nothing.  “What are you doing out here?” He asked, he seemed a bit confused as he stared down at you.

“Just.. looking out at night, i mean the garden is beautiful isn’t it..?” You replied to his question.

He stands by your side, and looks out at the garden, he nods before replying. “Yes, it is,” His tone was flat and emotionless, not conveying the same feeling of admiration for the garden as you have, you leaned on to the flat surface of the railing, and looked up to the sky smiling. He stares at you for a moment, thinking before he speaks again. 

“You looked cold, do you want my jacket?” He offers a small hint of kindness in his tone, he takes off his jacket, and offers it to you, but he still has a somewhat cold demeanor. 

“N-no it’s fine..” You rejected his offer, but he places his jacket on your shoulders anyway, disregarding your refusal. He wraps his jacket around you, making it easier for you to stay warm in the cold night. The jacket was warm and comforting, making you feel a bit warmer than before. He just stares at you, and decides to stay outside with you, it seems that he doesn’t want you to be alone for some reason, he stays there with you, not talking to you, just watching you watch the sky.

cpright. @mmurazz

tgs. @mheretoreadff

[fictionalslvr]

SYNOPSIS: Leon is the most devoted young man you know, and what you always wanted, is to ruin him, turn him into a complete sinful mess.

PAIRING: Churchboy¡Leon x F!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.030k

WARNINGS: Religious themes! Suggestive and lewd. Corruption kink. Sub¡Leon. Delusional reader. Not p in v because it's all a reader's fantasy ect.

NOTES: Someone send help, I can't stop thinking about RE2 Leon.

AKRASIA:"(n.) Lack of self control."

Leon is a very devout young man. With his knees down on the cold floor, eyes turned to the ceiling and hands squeezed together, his soft voice carried a lot of prayers. It is possible to hear a faint breath escape from those pretty plump lips while he did that, showing how disposed he is to his religion. You had a very bad and twisted thought about him, how you would ruin him completely.

The soft prayers wouldn’t be the only thing slipping out from his lips, his baby azure eyes would be teary, carrying gentle tears that would slid down his cheek so gracefully, his eyes would be turned upwards as always, but this time, not to be face-to-face with his savior, and yes, to show him how sinful he would be in that moment. Those sick contemplations are rotten in your mind, in the most wrong place ever to be thinking about this, the damn church. Who would have thought that you, with that long white skirt, round big eyes that seemed so innocent, the pair of cute Mary Janes on your feet, along with adorable lacy socks, would be so perverted. Who would think that such a delightful girl as you, bashing your eyelashes to everyone, would be wanting to ruin an adorable boy as Leon.

Your thighs are squeezing against each other on the wood bench, you’re sure that you're a sinner dressed as the most faithful gorgeous girl in that place, surrounded by others sinners, after all, no one is fully innocent. Seeing Leon on your right side, he’s very focused on the priest's words, and you, poor you can’t stop your mind in fantasizing about that boy. His dirty blonde hair shines under the white ceiling chandelier, he has this adorable habit of biting his lips when focused, sometimes even poking his tongue slightly out of his lips, you just want him under you, crying and humming your name with that angelic voice of his. Your chest rose as your eyes are glued on his figure, he’s driving you crazy without even saying a word.

You’ve always wondered if Leon was still a virgin, judging by his devotions, you guessed he never even kissed anyone, and that only eats your mind alive. You wanted to be his first in everything, the one who achieved to make him sin with you, you wanted to see his face plastered with tears, his breathing hitching as the name of his God couldn’t save him from that guilty feeling rushing over his spine. Leon would feel bad for feeling so good, that guilty pleasure that drives him into a sobbing mess, whispering faintly “sorry, i-i’m so s-sorry!” in between whimpers. You would take good care of him, being slow and passionate to show there’s nothing wrong in that pleasure he’s feeling, but that wouldn’t help, he would be a melted butter into your hands, hiding his face on the crook of your neck as your naughty hands kept touching the tip of his rosy penis, that pleasure was too much, something new that he’s getting already attached to, they were right, it’s an addiction that erodes an human being. The vulnerability of his state, his nude figure, it’s all new, like he’s a newborn around the world, discovering what the world could offer him as good, but that had consequences.

He would always hear that “the good boys go to heaven”, so he followed that strictly. But hearing that escaping from your lips would play with his mind, that nickname was supposed to be a good thing, not to be used as filthy as you make it look like. And maybe this is what you wanted, to make him feel guilty, to doubt himself and his purpose, to make him a full sinner, dragging you into hell with him. Poor Leon, his mind is so religiously focused, that he’s scared he could go to hell after life, so he restrains himself in almost everything to be perfect in the religious eyes. That would only make your twisted mind want him even more.

You would give whatever it takes to see his round cheeks growing rosy in embarrassment, to watch his eyes shut tightly, scared to look into your eyes and see that lust flames on them, to hear his heartbeat increase as you only get closer to him, depositing a kiss on his cheek and that would make him rest his hands there, thinking about your actions and how he needs to reprimand you from your manners, but he simply can’t, because you cause him fright. No one would believe him if he said how the cute girl has been teasing him, showing a bit more of her cleavage by bending down in front of him to make his mind wander to all wrong sides. In your deepest fantasies, Leon would be addicted to the friction your hands caused him the last time, he would try to recreate that, head leaned down as he felt even guiltier than before, his own hands exploring his body that way for the first time.

Leon is your little tragedy, the piece of drama in your life that keeps you coming to the church, even to not listen to any of the words about it. A divine violence, you like to think that Leon is the actual demon from teasing you just from being himself. Sadly, you didn’t do any of those things, your mind likes to fantasize that, so maybe one day, you can actually send Leon over the edge.

You only noticed that your sweet fantasy is over when a soft voice calls you out, a big pair of blue eyes towards you, which you knew greatly who it was.

“Miss? Are you okay? The preaching is over for a few minutes now.” A smirk appeared in your lips, for the first time, you couldn’t contain yourself, you had to do something.

Throwing your self control away, you gathered courage to lift your body and look around, there’s no one else in the church. Seeing Leon, his eyebrows are frowned in worry, you’re ready to ruin that face of his.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — KNIGHT! GOJO x PRINCESS! FEM READER 

There are some forces greater than kings. Princesses do not happen to be one of them. What you desire will be your downfall. 

wc — 5.7k

tags — royal au, mutual pining, forbidden love, childhood friends, retainer/royal dynamic, court intrigue, ballroom scene, protective Gojo, once again breaking etiquette for each other, complicated relationship (with your father), title from Upstream by Mary Oliver

part 2 of the hand which holds the knife 

There’s a language you spoke as a child that you can’t seem to access anymore. 

The only other person who remembers what it was is on the other side of this hall. 

A hand on the pommel of his sword to ask are you okay? A flower tucked behind your ear to represent get me out of here. A shared look that meant I’m bored out of my mind right now. 

That’s all you can remember. Like fairies and sorcerers, it’s a relic that’s faded into the distant memories of your childhood. All the magic has drained out of your life, and you’re left with this-

Gojo, looking regal and beautiful in his new armor, standing on one side of this massive hall built for receiving audiences. 

You, as stiff and proper as a princess should be, standing on the other. 

Even when you know you won’t be seen, the training you received as a child never quite leaves the set of your shoulders. You’re hiding from the court in a secret space above the hall. It’s less of a room and more of a balcony, disguised by masterful craftsmanship and perfectly placed decorations. 

A long time ago, one of the sons of the Kamo clan had been a renowned architect. He had designed the windows in the Great Hall to reflect in such a way that even anyone who did know where to look would be confused by a trick of the light. In order to preserve the secret of this concealed viewing area, the king then promptly had him killed for his efforts. 

Now only the royal family knows of it. 

Somehow Gojo’s eyes still seem to pierce into yours, although you know that it’s impossible. Even knowing that he’s most likely just staring into space due to boredom, you can’t shake the feeling that he’s watching you.

After all, you’ve never been able to hide from him. Every single game of hide and seek that you played when you were children was only won because he let you. Even now, it feels like he’s watching you, camouflage or not. 

If you still remembered your secret language, you might’ve been able to check. Scratch your cheek once for yes or rub at your ear for no. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected Gojo to respond to your mental summons, but there’s still an ache in your heart when he doesn’t react. It’s a fact of life for even that which you held most dear to erode with time, but it’s still difficult to forget the memory of how fantastical the world had been as a child. 

Even now, there’s a painful longing in you for those days. When you still had cherubic cheeks and Gojo had missing teeth, the two of you had been inseparable. No matter where you went throughout the palace, you did so holding hands. The son of the Hand of the King and the daughter of the King, innocent playmates. Your father had loved it until it stopped being cute and started being improper. 

Now, like everything else the two of you had shared, the language that had once been just for the two of you is lost to time. 

From your vantage point on the balcony, you see a guard mount the throne’s dais to whisper into your father’s ear. A minute wrinkle forms between his brows. Seeing this, you gather your skirts to prepare for the long hike down the stairs. It’s the only way to get down from this balcony. 

Things change. It’s time you accepted that. 

You’re a little late to your father’s summons due to your delay in the secret balcony, but he’s nothing if not forgiving, at least to you. The first signs of thunderclouds gathering over his face break the instant you climb up the steps to the throne, dipping your head to kiss him on either cheek. 

“Father.” 

It’s a word that conveys so much in so little. He’s at once the king that you pay absolute respect to and the father that indulges you in almost everything. He receives your greeting warmly, not even chiding you for being late. 

In a place of honor by his side, Gojo’s eyes dart to you. There’s an easy smile on his lips. “Princess,” he murmurs under his breath. 

The king gives him a cross look. It’s an unspoken rule for the kingsguard to be seen and not heard, but as Gojo had learned through his childhood, there were few rules that applied to him, and fewer still that he couldn’t bend in some way. You don’t acknowledge him, but for him, just seeing you was enough. He melts back into being a statue once more, a beautiful if threatening decoration. 

Below the podium, people shush themselves the minute they notice that your father has an announcement to make. 

They know it must be important if he’s gathered all of them. Even a few commoners have been let into the throne room, albeit separated from the nobles with guards and other barriers. The news will inevitably spread like wildfire. 

The princess is getting married. 

Things change. You’re trying to accept that. 

Your father isn’t so cruel as to throw you to the wolves immediately. The announcement is more for the sake of preparation. This is the beginning of your introduction to potential suitors. Historically, not every princess goes through such a formal affair. Your own parents, for example, had always known they were going to marry each other. A match between the richest house and the prince when the children were so close in age was easy. 

You’re not so lucky. Since you were young, Gojo has spoiled you with too much attention for you to care about anyone else. Now you have no other convenient childhood friends to turn to. 

Your father will want it to be a massive celebration. His only daughter, the blood of his blood, deserves music and dancing. Already, you can hear the faint sounds of the most talented opera singer in the kingdom warming up in the ballroom adjacent to the Great Hall. Some of those closest to the doors have already begun streaming towards the jubilant sounds. 

That’s a relief. 

It takes a little pressure off of you as you begin to make your way back down the steps. Logically, you understand why the throne is raised on a dais. In the moment, however, your heart is pounding as you begin your descent. The entire nation has been watching you since you were just a child, but a proclamation of marriage has raised the stakes. 

You only exist for other people to envy. They scheme and fight for the rights that you’ve been endowed with since birth. You might at least make it worth their while. Piece by piece, you collect the fragments of what a princess who’s deserving of the jewels dripping from her neck and hair might look like. Hands that don’t tremble. A sweet smile. Perfect posture. You weave these disjointed wisps into the correct facade and slip it over yourself. 

Royalty is all about showmanship. Like the balcony, hidden by a clever trick of light, everything is a feint of hand. You’re not any different from anyone standing below you in the crowd. You were just lucky enough to be born to the right parents at the right time. 

You’re so focused on your appearance you barely register the sound of metal clinking. Before you, an armored hand stretches out. 

It’s Gojo. He’s left the king’s side to come stand beside you. When you peek at him out of the corner of your eye, you see that his face is solemn, which it rarely is. Is the crowd whispering already, or is that just you? 

It’s honorable, if you think about it. A member of the kingsguard, coming to escort the king’s daughter down the steps? It’s the very height of chivalry. But you know Gojo, and it’s anything but. His face is stoic, but his gaze is searing. How does he manage to get under your skin when such dense layers of fabric and armor separate the two of you? 

Placing your hand on his gauntlet feels strangely intimate, even with thousands watching you. He doesn’t make a sound as you lean your weight against him. You suppose it’s nothing to him. No burden is too heavy for the mighty Gojo Satoru. 

Your hand laid delicately atop his silver arm, he guides you back to the ground. It’s much easier when he’s by your side. Gojo is already part of the image of the princess that the people want. He looks good by your side, you know. A silver knight to match your charming court lady. 

The milling bodies make a path for you even as they move towards the ballroom. No one dares to get too close, but they all want to watch you, even though you know they’ve been watching for years. It’s a bit sorrowful for you to know that in the end, everything you’ve presented for them is a lie. You’re not half as special as you pretend to be, and what is genuinely royal about you has been trained. In any other life, your positions could be reversed. 

But a princess has her duties. You make no sign of this as you press forward, only looking back once to see that Gojo hasn’t returned to the king. Another one of his kingsguard brothers, much older than he is, has replaced him. It’s nice to see that your father still cares for Gojo in his way.

It’s good that he won’t be bound to his duty all the time. You had hoped he would be able to enjoy the ball. Gojo does like his revelries.  

As for you, you only like them in good company. 

It’s such a pity then that Zenin Naoya is the first person who dares to approach you. 

He’s as sly as a fox as he asks for a dance you can’t refuse. House Zenin and your father aren’t on good terms, but that’s all the more reason Naoya circles you. Now there’s an easy way to mollify a crowd - a marriage alliance. You know he’s been pressing, as has Lord Zenin. 

You’re not so easy to convince. Naoya has unsettling rumors surrounding him, and you’re loath to experience them for yourself. 

Still, one dance in the public eye can’t hurt. 

Like any son of a high born house, he’s a good dancer. His hand is solid against your upper back, the other leading you as you spin around the room. 

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” he tells you. 

“Forwardness is unbecoming in a man,” you say with a smile, as if he’s telling you the sweetest nothings. “What would my father say?” 

“Don’t play coy, princess. We both know how this ends.” 

Your father wouldn’t marry you to a man like Naoya if it brought world peace, regardless of how badly his family wanted a tie to the throne. There’s too many whispers about how he treats his servant girls and even cousins. Your father loves you. He wouldn’t put you through a marriage where your title could only protect you for so long. 

“Please excuse me,” you say as soon as the song ends. “I find myself rather dizzy.” 

Naoya tries to stop you, but another noble steps forward as he grabs your wrist. You don’t recognize him, but the motif of flowers on his clothes suggest he’s of House Geto. 

“You shouldn’t harass women like that, Naoya,” he chides. “A man has to treat a lady with respect.” 

Naoya’s eyes flash, but your mysterious savior is sweeping you away already. His hands hover above your dress, never actually touching, as he guides you in the opposite direction. 

“Thank you, Sir…?” You let him fill in the silence for you. 

“Getou,” he says. “I’m Gojo’s sworn brother.” 

This is the man you’ve heard so much about, his partner in the guard. Their names are often brought up in conjunction. He’s as pretty as you expected of the man nicknamed the Flower Knight. 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, satisfied now that you know he’s friends with Gojo. 

“This is a rescue mission,” he says half-jokingly. “Isn’t anywhere but Naoya is fine? Now look impressed with me, please - I can’t have any potential wives thinking the princess finds me a poor dancer.” 

It’s not difficult. Getou is, after all, a trained court noble, and the sons of House Getou are usually adept at the arts. You wonder what happened to make him choose knighthood instead when he says, “Heads up, my lady. Someone’s watching you.” 

To your right, Gojo is swaying with a beautiful woman in his arms. It only takes you a second to place her, so infamous is her notoriety. Yuki of House Tsukumo, also known as the Lady Knight, is second only to Gojo in her blatant disrespect for everything the elders held dear. 

They make a striking couple. Everywhere they go, heads turn to watch them pass. Her gold to his silver, her lion to his dragon - it would be a powerful match. They would be perfect for each other, if only because no one would be able to challenge the other like they could. 

Their bodies are sensual. Excellent dancers each, together they become an instrument for the music to shine through. They’re magnetic, drawing every eye in the room to watch them. 

All but one. 

Everyone else may be entranced by the pair of them, but Gojo’s eyes are on you. Scandalously, one hand slips just so, landing on Yuki’s lower back rather than an appropriate place just between her shoulder bones. For some reason, heat gathers in the same place on your body, as if you’re the one he’s touching instead. 

It must be because he’s looking at you with such fervor. Your cheeks heat with his attention. His eyes are half-lidded, as liquid as a cat. Every move is sinuous as if he’s on the prowl. There’s something impossibly obscene about his gaze. It creeps slowly along your body as he and Yuki move in a complicated series of steps. 

“We can’t let them steal all the attention,” Getou says with amusement. He really is Gojo’s brother-in-arms. “Let’s give them a show.” 

It’s impressive that he can keep up with you. Dancing is an art you’ve been tutored in by the very finest in the craft. But Getou matches you move for move, beat by beat. Your steps weave seamlessly together, creating an intricate pattern. 

Unlike Gojo, he’s a naturally friendly man. It’s easy to talk to him, whispering between each beat. He knows all the most recent court gossip, and on more than one occasion, inspires an embarrassingly loud laugh from you. You’re surprised to find how much you enjoy his company. 

“I think it’s time to change partners,” calls a familiar voice.

As Getou takes the hands of Lady Yuki, her eyes still closed as she sways, someone replaces him. Gojo’s hand slides from where Getou’s were on your upper back down to your hip. He’ll be your last dance of the night. 

“Should I be worried about being replaced?” He murmurs against your hair. 

Your father will be throwing an apoplectic fit if he sees, but when has Gojo ever cared about other people’s opinions? 

“By whom?” You ask, all innocence. 

“You’re such a handful, my lady,” he says as he lifts your hand for a spin. You hesitate. This is a move that’s much enjoyed in the Southern Kingdoms, but here, your dances are much more restricted. Like in all matters, propriety is most important. 

But as always, Gojo’s freeing nature makes you more daring. You let him twirl you just once before he pulls you back to his side. 

“I thought you liked that about me?” You bat your eyelashes at him in an intentionally over the top gesture. 

He suppresses a groan that makes you giggle. “Don’t weaponize that against me, princess. You know I’ll fall for it.” 

You’re the only person allowed to do this to him, and the knowledge of that fact pulls the corners of your mouth into a soft smile. 

There are things that he only lets you get away with, and things you only let him get away with. 

He’s the only person allowed to pull you closer. His hands bracket your waist, curled tightly against the dip in the fabric. Unlike Getou, his touch is firm. You’re nearly chest to chest, the intricate patterns of beads on your bodice reflecting against his breastplate. 

He’s so familiar with your body it’s like touching his own. 

Ruination. 

He has ruined you utterly for any other touch. No matter which household you marry into, Zenin or Getou or Nanami, you’ll always be Gojo’s.

It doesn’t matter how chaste or depraved each touch is. Your body responds to him like it responds to no other. Everywhere he touches you throbs on impact, as gentle as he is with you. He’ll always be tender for you. 

For the next leg of the dance, you separate. Your point of contact is slowly stripped to just your palms against each other, your bodies angled outwards. Like sharks, you circle each other - beasts on the hunt. 

You’re touching but not holding each other. His palm is flat against yours, the touch barely there. You watch him. Light plays over his face like he’s been blessed. The candles burning against the encroaching night make him glow. Under his lashes, he’s watching you back, coy and seductive. 

Slowly, each finger curls until you’re no longer just skin to skin, but he’s actually holding you. It’s devastating. Somehow, in this crowded ballroom, he’s managed to empty your brain of anyone else. All you can think about is him, his beautiful hands, the lean strength of his body.

At once, you feel horribly exposed. Anyone looking at you two would be able to tell how you feel about each other. 

“What is the meaning of this?” 

Cold. Deadly. Hinting at violence. You’ve never heard your father speak this way. 

You pull back as if Gojo’s touch is suddenly toxic. His fingers cling to yours for a moment longer, and then he lets you go. He bows to the king, not nearly as low as he should. For once, you wish he’d just manage to know when to hide his true personality. 

“Gojo Satoru,” your father’s voice is dripping with poison. “Care to explain why you, a member of the kingsguard, is dishonoring my daughter in such a way?” 

Beside him, Captain Yaga stands stiffly. Only the smallest of frowns on his face gives away how he feels.  

“He wasn’t!” You step between them. You can hear Gojo’s sharp inhale of breath behind you. He’s used to being the one who protects you, not the other way around. “We were just dancing.” 

“You’re a child,” your father brushes you aside easily. “You don’t know these things. After everything I’ve done for you, you dare trample on my kindness, Gojo?” 

He doesn’t say a word in his own defense. 

“My king,” you try desperately. “Please, he wasn’t- he would never-” 

Your father turns to Yaga. “Escort my daughter to her rooms.” 

He’s treating you like a child on the day he’s announced that he’ll marry you off to another house. Your blood boils, but you’re no match for Yaga as he strongarms you away. Your father steps closer to Gojo, looking up to meet his eyes. He watches him back with an uncomfortable stillness. In the light, his eyes look almost reptilian. 

“Looking at my daughter with those lascivious eyes,” your father hisses. He strikes Gojo across the face. The people in the ballroom, whom you had entirely forgotten about, gasp. Still, Gojo says nothing. “I should have you stripped of your armor and whipped in the square.” 

“Father!” You struggle violently against Yaga’s hold as he carries you away. You only have one advantage. He may be strong, but he’s unable to hurt you. You, on the other hand, are willing to do whatever it takes to get free of him. When you push your fingers into his eyes, he drops you with a yell of surprise, giving you the opportunity to run back to the nightmare scene unfolding in front of you. 

You cling to your father, both to ask for mercy and out of fear he’ll strike Gojo again. 

“Please,” you whisper. “You can’t do this. He’s the heir to your Hand and one of the most powerful houses we’re allied with. We need him” 

Your father looks down on you. He raises one hand to stroke your hair, but it almost hurts with how heavy the touch is. His fury is present in the room like another body. 

“He dishonored me by dishonoring my daughter.” 

“Father,” you’re weeping. It’s shameful. Everyone is watching you fall apart, something you’ve tried to avoid your entire life. “Please. I’ll do anything.” 

Your father turns to the rest of the ballroom. “Get out, all of you! Leave now!” 

The kingsguard makes short work of them, hurrying everyone out the doors. It’s quick because no one wants to stay and face the wrath of the king. When your father realizes Gojo’s still here, he turns to him. “You too. Leave. And be grateful.” 

Gojo’s eyes dart to you. In that moment, you feel an overwhelming affection for him, unwilling to leave you behind. “I’ll be alright,” you say, touching his arm. “Go.” 

He frowns, but you insist, all but pushing him out the doors yourself. 

“Scream if you need me,” he hisses in your ear as you finally get him outside. 

When the massive oak doors creak close, it’s just you, your father, and Yaga. 

“Thank you, Father,” you say. 

“Don’t thank me yet. You promised me anything.” 

You did, and it’s a price you’d pay over and over again to spare Gojo. 

“You’ll take on a knight. I’ll find someone suitable for you. And Gojo will still have to be punished.” 

Still? After everything you just sacrificed to keep him safe? 

“How could you do this to me?” You whisper. You don’t recognize the man in front of you. 

“You are a princess,” your father says, cold in a way he’s never been towards you before. “Act like it.” 

You stare at him, stunned. There’s a beat where you think he’ll apologize. He’ll take it back. He has to. It’s always just been you and your father. You have no one else. When that moment passes, you storm out of the throne room. 

It’s not just a slight. Your father has stolen from you. Gojo is yours. He has no right to him, neither as a kingsguard nor as someone to punish. You had been willing to forgive him the first crime, but the second is too cruel for you to bear. It’s spiteful, even, in a way you’ve never known him to be. 

Somehow, while you weren’t watching, the world has changed. It’s as if you’ve been asleep for a long time and woken up somewhere slightly different, and you can’t get used to the little ways everything is wrong. 

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” your father calls after you. “That Gojo boy is dangerous.” 

Danger. 

You know it well. 

All your life, you feel as if you’ve been trying to avoid a ledge. You keep yourself quiet and contained, stilted growth to remain a perfect member of the nobility. Now, in this moment, you feel yourself stepping off of that edge. Whatever lies below is unknown. 

In your kingdom, there’s a common saying that love is strength. 

There are many different sources for the aphorism, but the most recent is that of Sir Toji and Lady Fushiguro. Their love story has been dramatized into legend and plays, commercialized for an audience that devours the story of a common soldier’s rise to prominence out of love for a noble lady. 

People choose to conveniently ignore the fact that they end in tragedy. Lady Fushiguro died a few years ago, and Sir Toji has never been seen since. You only know of what he looks like from a retelling your father took you to watch two years ago. Despite belonging to your court for years, he’s all but faded from memory. Toji is a man of myth rather than a real person. 

That’s love, you think. His grief after the passing of his wife drew him into a seclusion so intense no one could remember his face, just that he was tall with a scar and black hair. 

Love so powerful it could twist remembrance and distort the face of such a well-known individual - you like that. That’s love with real power, not the play kind that’s been half baked in roses and sugar dust to convince you to buy something. True love is paid for in blood, not cash. 

You don’t agree with the proverb, not just because it’s not what you take away from Toji’s story, but because of your own experiences. Love makes you weak. 

Still, you don’t hate it. It’s saved your life more times than you can count, after all. 

Under Gojo’s armor, scars litter his body, one for every hurt he’s taken for you. 

Some say that he’s the reincarnated companion to the first king, the greatest of all knights. Others say that he’s a demigod, born with half of a god’s power. Whatever you think, it’s undeniable that his strength is something of legend. In what other scenario would he come to harm but by defending the princess, so much weaker than himself? 

There’s a healed slash across his ribs from the time you were six and assassins crept into the royal gardens. Gojo had been barely older and armed with only a dull training sword, but he still managed to cut down eight men twice his size to protect you. 

When you were twelve, a horse tried to buck you during a parade, spooked by a mouse underfoot. Gojo, ahead by yards, ran to catch you. He was rewarded with the sickening crunch of his wrist turning sideways as he braced your fall with his own body. 

There’s a jagged lightning strike on his lower back, a cut that never healed right. The ridged edges of scar tissue pucker, tugging the skin taut. It’s just another wound he’s received from you. He’ll use anything to shield you - not just his body alone, but his reputation. The first time someone challenged your honor in a trial by combat, spouting lies, Gojo put the rumors down with ruthless efficiency. 

There’s no chink in his armor that’s as effective as you. Endangering the princess will always be the easiest way to get to Gojo, because he’ll throw himself in harm’s way to keep you safe. But if you’re revealing your cards, Gojo’s your weakness, too. 

It’s a delicate position you hold as princess. Although you’re technically untouchable, you’re well aware of the way everyone around you is watching, waiting to take advantage of the smallest misstep. The higher you stand, the further you have to fall. Gojo only had to defend your honor because of the rumors surrounding the two of you. The fact that he was your champion only entrenched them further - it’s just that no one dares to speak of it openly now. 

It’s a shame to your father and your royal house that you are likely the first princess with such a terrible reputation in years. Even you see the validity of the situation, though you can’t agree with your father’s methods of addressing it. Who wouldn’t question your bond? 

Most princesses are chaste, delicate little things. As fresh as the royal roses and twice as unblemished. They keep men at an appropriate distance and smile meekly behind their fans, eyes downturned and as gentle as a lamb. 

You’ve never enforced a boundary with Gojo. At this point, he’s a part of you rather than a separate being on his own, a strange two-headed creature with the same heart. He’s your ever present shadow, your most stalwart defender. The way he’s constantly circling you, never more than an arm’s length away, has given rise to whispers that a princess’s reputation would normally quash. 

These things work in funny ways. Up to a certain point, it can be easily brushed away by the strength of your standing in court. No one would dare to besmirch your honor publicly. But you’ve long since crossed the point of no return, most likely before you even turned twelve. The closeness between you and Gojo eschews court protocol to the point that even your status can’t protect you. You’re no delicate rose, but a tainted bud. 

Although it hurts you to know that your father suffers from your lack of discretion, you refuse to push Gojo away. Your protests are kept to a bare minimum, just enough so that all the rumors remain just that, rumors. Everyone knows, but no one can prove it. Gojo obeys, albeit unwillingly. Your word is his law, after all. 

But although you own him body and soul, Gojo belongs to your father now.

In one way, it’s your father’s attempt at defending you. Kingsguards can have no romantic affairs. Any love Gojo bore you would be seen as courtly, the extended dedication of a knight to his king. It would be duty, not romance, that would make him honor-bound to protect you. It’s an easy explanation for all these years of blind devotion. 

All of the kingsguard loves you, but in the way a follower worships. It’s not dependent on who you are, but rather what you represent. You could command them to kill anyone you pleased, or offer up their own lives. It’s not something you like thinking about, especially in conjunction to Gojo. 

You’re not the god, anyway. In any scenario, they’d be forced to choose your father over you if it came down to it. As long as kings exist, princesses can be replaced. It’s much harder for you to produce a new king. 

Your father loves you. 

It’s just not an easy kind of love. 

Despite taking Gojo, he offers you a replacement that you don’t want, but will be forced to take anyway. Sir Toji comes out of retirement for only the most noble and sacred of duties - protecting the one and only child of the king. 

At the moment, anyway. Your father is still hoping for a male heir. 

You didn’t think Toji was still alive, if you’re being honest. Although people constantly wondered what he was up to after the events of the play, you simply assumed he died of a broken heart. That was the easiest explanation for why he hadn’t been seen in years, but when your father calls you to him, there’s a man standing by the side of his throne. 

Tall. Dark hair. A scar over his lip. 

If the shoe fits, you suppose. 

The smile he gives you is threatening, but you try not to be prejudiced from the very start of your relationship. It’s just the scar, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

“It’s an honor, your highness,” Toji says, and bends low to kiss your hand. His lips are dry and chapped, a stark contrast to Gojo. 

It’s hopeless from the beginning. You’ll always compare him to what you lost. 

Your father does, too. That’s precisely what went into choosing your dedicated knight. He wanted Toji because as a widower, an older man, and even because of his natural personality, he’s seen as an unlikely candidate to be your lover, especially if the main contender for the position is Gojo, classically pretty and elegant. 

No one will question your relationship with him, unlike your relationship with Gojo, who every girl and even quite a few boys in the entire kingdom desire. 

It’s the perfect move. 

It makes you miserable. 

Getting used to Toji’s presence is difficult. When you turn, you always expect Gojo, with his dancing eyes and sharp tongue, ready to make fun of the latest courtier who dared approach you. 

Everything is strange, even his position. More often than not, Gojo walked beside you. You only had to turn your head to whisper something into his ear. 

Toji remains a few steps behind, menacing people who approach you from the shadows. It discomfits you to turn, expecting shared laughter, and greet only air. 

He notices, of course. 

“I’m right here, princess,” he says the fifth time you do it. 

“Of course,” you smile at him, a little pained that he caught you. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting.” 

“Do you miss that boy that badly?”

You stiffen. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” 

“Whatever makes you happy, my lady,” Toji says with an easy shrug that clearly conveys he doesn’t care too much if he’s not being paid for it. 

That’s not to say he isn’t good at his job. He’s fantastic at it, actually. You’d heard rumors that he was the only man in the realm who could possibly stand against Gojo, though you never believed it. Gojo had been untouchable for your entire life. There had never been anyone who could even close to him. 

Toji is a total shift in your paradigm. For the first time, you begin to wonder if Gojo is truly unbeatable. You’ve never seen anyone as fast as either of them, or as strong. Toji has the potential to upset Gojo’s status as the best knight in the kingdom. But he hasn’t. 

He seems to have no interest in court machinations. You have no idea what your father even offered him to come out of retirement for you. Toji’s no help, either. You’re afraid to ask him your questions. 

You don’t trust him. Mainly because he seems like an agent for your father, but also because you’re afraid of him despite yourself. He’s a monster, and you’re not sure what your father was thinking when he assigned him to you. 

The peace between you two is unsteady. It’s a mutual agreement based on a common understanding that no one benefits from making your lives harder for each other, but all the same, there’s no trust between the two of you. He’s not the choice you would’ve made. 

In any life, it would’ve always been Gojo. 

[leaawrites]

Come with me pt. 1

Roadie Noel Gallagher x fem!reader

Summary: in which, Noel fimds a new passion besides music.

Warnings: none, fluff

Wordcount: 1.2k

Masterlist

A number of lights separate the audience from whoever is on stage. A magnetic field surrounded them that raised awareness, whatever they do, they’ll do it there. In the spotlight and surrounded by people. Nothing will ever happen in the quietness of loneliness, not when enough people knew you to talk about you constantly.

“You’ve really dragged me here for this?” Y/n asked her friend, Mary, both sat at the bar of the little club they were in, lazily watching the band standing on stage, barely holding on to their minds.

“Oh, come on.” Mary urged her, knocking their elbows together. “You’ve been so moody all week, relax a bit. Once you start listening they’re actually good.”

And that’s what she did. Listening and nodding her head to the beat, because after all, once you start listening you start understanding. Lazy lyrics turned into words with meaning and chords that followed one another became one. A melody became a song and part of an album at last.

“They’re not too bad,” she concluded at last, when they ended their set and said a proper goodbye, before disappearing back stage again. The room wished them farewell with applauses and settled down once they were gone fully, making space for a new band.

“Good to hear, because you’re coming backstage with me.” The girl already pulled her by her wrist towards the entrance until Y/n stopped walking, looking at her with wide eyes at the new information.

“What?”

They were supposed to come here, listen to them play and go back home. Nothing more. Though that seemed to change throughout the night.

“I’ve met the guitarist yesterday, and you know how things go when I meet a musician…” she trailed off at the end of her sentence, looking at the girl with innocent eyes.

Rolling her eyes, Y/n replied, “You’re unbelievably easy to get.”

Making the other girl squeal in excitement and drag her down a hallway and into a backstage area. Inside, the air was filled with smoke, cigarettes and beer cans were cluttered everywhere around the small space. A sofa was put against one of the walls, most of the band sitting on it and soon enough Mary sat on the edge of it, flirting with who Y/n remembered to be playing the guitar earlier on stage.

Looking around the room, there wasn’t a lot of space left. The floor was dirty and leaning against one of the walls seemed too awkward to do in a place like this. Not with all eyes being able to focus on one in a matter of seconds.

Continuing looking around the room, she caught sight of a figure sitting on the other side of it, another small sofa sitting in a quieter corner. The person on it scribbling furiously into a notebook without looking up once. His fingers tapping against the edge of the papers every once in a while, like he was trying to remember the rhythm of his words.

When his movements stilled for a moment, Y/n decided to walk over to him, sitting down on the other end and letting her gaze stray over to the page until they focused on his face, which was now staring back at her. His eyes widen in shock at the sudden presence beside him.

“Hey,” she said, smiling awkwardly when he didn’t say anything in return at first.

Shaking his head as if he needed to collect new words from having all the others written down already, before he replied with a simple, “Hey.”

“Are you part of the band?” She asked, not remembering him from on stage but she didn’t even look at them as clearly to recognize every single one of the guys.

“Uh, not really, no. I’m just their Roadie, you know. Stringing guitars and all that,” he replied, his fingers still tapping against the paper.

“That’s cool,” she said. “Am I disturbing you or something?”

“What? No, sorry. I was just writing something, it’s not that important.” Holding up his notebook in reference before closing it completely and putting it aside. Focusing on her. “Why are you here?”

“My friend dragged me to the gig and well, she didn’t exactly tell me that she was more interested in the guitarist than the music itself. And now, I’m here.”

“Must be shit, but the band’s good at least,” he said, leaning back and relaxing more.

“They’re alright,” she answered, making his eyebrows raise in surprise. “There are better bands though.”

“Alright? Darling, they’re proper amazing. Honestly, one of the greatest Bands out there at the moment,” he argued, looking at her like she was growing a second head.

“Wouldn’t exactly call them one of the greatest, but there are definitely worse ones,” she tried to conclude with him, though when he shook his head at her in disbelief she knew, that if she wanted to keep the conversation alive, she needed to change the subject at hand. “So, is that all you wanna do? Just tour with Bands and care for their equipment and organize stuff for them.”

“Not exactly, no. Music has always been a passion of mine, though I doubt it will get any further than this. I don’t exactly have the voice of a Rock star,” he shrugged like it was nothing. Like dreams were nothing but a part of something unbelievable.

“But you can write, right?” She nodded towards the book in his lap. “Just get someone who can sing and you’ll be a step nearer to standing on the big stage you’re dreaming of.”

“All the great voices are already off somewhere with some other band. Signed and all that shit.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Most often, the most talented are hiding in the shadows till the last second. You just have to shine a light on them and they’ll surprise you,” she said, looking down at the notebook again. “What have you written?”

“Nothing,” he quickly answered.

“A song?” She asked once more, making his face heat up. “Can you play it to me?”

“It’s nothing really, I just have a verse and chorus as well as some loose lyrics for anything else.”

“Please.”

Flicking the book open once more, he picked up the guitar that laid on the floor next to him and started plugging. Creating a soft melody, to which he started humming until words melted into the rhythm and made it a whole.

“It’s not really anything,” he tried playing it down once he finished playing what he had as of now. His eyes avoiding her gaze and staring at the words rather than her face.

“You have a beautiful voice, remember that,” she said, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Softly chuckling as his head turned towards her after she loosened her lips from his skin and laid her head down on his shoulder. “I mean it.”

“Thank you,” he said, starting to strum his guitar once more. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n. What’s yours?”

“Noel,” he answered, slightly blushing.

“Well, Noel,” the name rolling from her tongue so easily. “You will be big one day, trust me. I feel it. Now play me another song, please.”

Listening to his every word, she couldn’t help but feel her eyes flutter close and her breath steadying until she was softly breathing against his collarbone, sound asleep and looking comfortable by his side.

It felt right having her so close to him, Noel noticed as he looked down at the girl by his side with the soft smile still decorating her pink lips. He wished to stay in this moment forever, by her side.

[anaconamor]

limit - jude bellingham series.

quick sum: shy and innocent uni student by day but a notorious street racer at night, meets now currently best footballer jude bellingham under certain circumstances. what happens when these two are forced to get along, in order for them to get out of trouble? will they sacrifice their careers in order to protect themselves?

wc: 4.7k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: hello! this is a request mixed with an idea i had. this is a small five-part series since I didn’t want to do a large fic. i really hope you enjoy since it’s a enemies to lovers, ‘she fell but he fell harder’, car girl! reader, and jude being somewhat cocky and mean but a huge teddy bear. pls note that i don’t condone any street racing or hectic driving! this series will have mature content so minors DNI 🔞. it will also contain other issues dealing with family domestic issues, mentions of being insecure, etc, but I'll place the warning then :) please enjoy chapter one, and let me know your thoughts! 🤍

“Now class I hate to stress this enough but you have to take exquisite and thorough notes. It will not only guide you but help and take you to the correct path for this course,” said Professor Alto. I felt like rolling my eyes and walking out of the lecture room, but instead, I just turned over and laughed with Marie, who was already staring at me. “He says that every class period, I'm starting to get annoyed because we’ve been taking this class for the past month,” Marie snickers.

“True but in all honesty he does have a point,” I raise my eyebrow and look back at the Professor who was now walking back and forth presenting the slides. “Shut up. We get it you’re smart,” Marie groans and pushes my shoulder, taking out some gum and then paying attention forward. “I'm sorry, I would like to run my own business one day, and this is where I have to start first.” This time I push her shoulder, and hear her mutter a ‘Yeah yeah whatever…’

I grabbed my bag and pulled out my notebook, took different coloured pens, and began to write down the slides, using other different coloured pens to write important texts and or highlights. It’s just girly things. We would be here for a while, as this lecture would take up to three hours, so I got comfortable. “What are you wearing tonight?” Marie whispered, leaning her head on my shoulder as she typed away.

“Probably something black,” I shrugged, “I might wear this new corset top and black jeans since I'm racing tonight.” Marie looked over at me with wide eyes, “But isn't your car still in the shop?”

“No, it got fully fixed two days ago, and tonight I wanna see if the new adjustments are working properly,” I say, taking a sip of water and rubbing my eyes as they feel dry. “Y/n are you sure that’s a good idea though? You just got your car back, and knowing how you race, especially after just getting it back can be dangerous. If something happens, all that work that was done would go to waste,” Marie stresses, and I notice that because she began to talk with her hands.

“I know the risks, trust me. But I need this money for me, my mom, and my little sister. I'm working two double shifts and if I win tonight, I'm set for the next two months. It won’t be an easy race, but at this point what more can I do?” I sigh and rub my temple, a small migraine wanting to form.

It wasn't easy anymore. It became harder when we had to move out of my dad’s place as he began to become a different and mad person. It wasn’t the environment I wanted to be involved in, let alone my mother and sister. It became especially harder when he came and did mass destruction on our property, and tried to hurt us. The night repeatedly lives in my head, the screams, the yelling, the smashing windows, the red and blue lights, it's hard to sleep as any time I close my eyes I just see him.

I always had a great relationship with him. We were close and happy. I grew up wanting to be him, and he always set examples and tried for us. He would do my hair, teach me how to cook his chocolate chip cookies, and even go on to show me how to play the piano. We spent every weekend working in his mechanic shop, working on dear old Darla for one day to be driven by me. The old black Ford was now ruined into pieces when he went crazy after discovering he would be arrested.

What changed in him to become that way, was the question I kept repeating over and over again. If the truth comes out one day, maybe we can be at peace. But for now, it's being cautious and assuring the safety of my family. I sacrificed a lot to be able to support us, as well as my mom. The car racing was something I randomly got into, my mom didn't like it, but in a way for me, I escaped reality.

The adrenaline rush. The speed. The rush overtakes my body. The determination to win as the prize in the end holds a lot of possession. Maybe even the idea of it being illegal also took a more motive of why not, as bad as it sounded. I became a hell of a driver, I was the best of the best, and some people took that personally.

The tracks and races became a second home to me. The ability to conduct and take charge of my own was truly an honour. For once, only I listened to myself instead of others. For once I could do something that made me happy, as much as it felt wrong to do. I met people, good and bad, and stayed away from the bad as they reminded me of my dad. A weekend like tonight started at the tracks but indeed by the city in the underground club Sahara.

I saved enough to buy myself a 2014 black Dodge Challenger. Slowly I made work by changing the motor from a V6 to a V8, running to almost 470 horsepower. The rims were also replaced with all black, and I added other features like a loud exhaust and a cold air intake system, just recently. This would’ve never been done if I didn't have Jimmy, an old friend of my dad’s. He never questioned what I did to my car, just wished me ‘good luck, and be careful’.

When my mom found out about my car, she threatened to kick me out. That same night I brought back $1,800 and left them on the table, muttering a quick “This is why I do what I do”. Since then she hasn’t questioned, just used the money for savings, groceries, and bills. I would of course help out, especially on bigger and expensive things, like Uni. Uni was expensive, and I sure as heck was lucky to afford what I could.

My first race was over a year ago, in the older tracks leaving Madrid. It was a secluded area only known to nearby residents, or people like me who raced, or those who went to live life a little. You could expect anyone there. I knew of this place after Marie and her girlfriend Kaia took me. My first race was that same night after a girl got pissed at me for accidentally bumping her shoulder with her boyfriend.

One thing led to another, and then you saw me at the finish line in Marie’s Grey Nissan Altima. That baby could run, period.

Part of me could say I also got addicted to how much money it would bring home. I didn't care if it was clean or dirty money, it met my needs, and I was grateful for it. Multiple people have gone against me but they can’t race like I can. There are tips and tricks to it, whether it is releasing the clutch early or letting the car struggle a bit before making the shift. Slow down or maybe speed up. You learn along the way.

My biggest rivals of them all were Jacey and Jacqueline. They made my life a living hell a week before finals. They insisted and threatened me to race them or else I would be kicked out and can’t ever place my foot on the tracks. They were the best anyone had seen, but I knew what they wanted. They were a part of a malicious gang in the northern part of Spain. If I won, I would be free and they were to never bother me, but if I lost I would do laundering and drug exchange.

I won that night, by some miracle. It turned out Jacey was racing unfairly and it didn't count as he had cheated. They would always go against me, and it became sort of a rival race whenever we did go against each other. Like tonight. Tonight would be a big night, it would be a packed race, and surely every young adult would be there.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re going against Jacqueline tonight? How could you have failed to tell me this?” Marie ran, her back across the wall as I got myself a redbull to survive the rest of the day. We had a 20-minute break, and now we were seated outside waiting to go back in.

“I didn’t know either, Max texted me this just a couple of hours ago,” I said, taking a sip of the energy drink. I pulled out my phone and showed her the message. “Well, I can see why you’re doing this then,” Marie points to the text of the amount of cash I could win. “What did you end up fixing in your car?”

“I did a bit of mostly everything. I added high-flow catalytic converters, high-flow mid pipes, high-flow fuel injectors, high-flow air induction systems, an upgraded header, and upgraded pulleys. Just newer stuff that the new challengers have nowadays,” I say, laughing at Marie's confused face staring back at me. “Well whatever you said, let’s hope it works out.”

“Trust me it will. Because you’ll be in the seat next to me to see” I smirked.

“Bitch no I am not, the fuck?” Marie gives me a puzzled look. I give her a look for using such profanity. I hated it, I didn't like such strong and hateful words, especially those that meant hurting someone's feelings. I never cursed, I just didn't see the fun or thrill of it, which shocked many.

“You are because you lost the bet last week. And Sheila is out of town. So better bring your mask and helmet,” I say, opening my iPad to get some studying done before my business class after this lecture. “Plus when have you ever turned down the opportunity to ride with me? I know you secretly love it,” I wink at her to which he just shakes her head and smirks.

“I'll do it, but only if you wear the black midi skirt I got you. As a matter of fact, I’ll ride with you only if you let me get you ready and get you sexy,” Marie says. I blush profusely and immediately shake my head no. I would rather die than be seen wearing anything more revealing than my boobs. I'm just too shy and not confident for it. I can’t rock outfits like Marie can.

“Funny but no. You know me, I am good with a revealing top and maybe some tight jeans,” I brushed her idea once again, but knowing how she could be, especially when she's a fashion major, it would be hard. “Either deal or no deal. You know you need me in order to race,” she tries to intimidate to which I finally agree. “I will make you the sexiest girl there. Who knows maybe you’ll be lucky and get laid,” she taunts, an evil grin on her lips.

“Marie!”

“Oh quit the act. We know you are shy and innocent, but you become a freak and a total show when you race. I'll see you tonight,” she winks and walks out, completely leaving the lecture.

—/— Jude’s Point of View —/—

After matches came recovery. And after recovery, it was either a day off or prepping for the next match. Luckily I had the gym area to myself, working with a physical trainer on my knee and doing a few exercises that were as much work. I just needed something to preoccupy my mind before I met with my publicist. It's not that I hated him, I just didn't tolerate such a person like him.

I dragged out this meeting as far as possible but knowing how he is, he wouldn't care. After briefly talking with the PT about a few stretches I could do at home, I walked down the cafeteria and met up with Eduardo, who invited lunch for the both of us. We sat down and just talked about the game plays and the upcoming international break.

Lunch went by quickly, now I found myself walking down the small hallway into the office that belonged to my publicist. I resented him even more for working at the training grounds. I would rather be anywhere else but here. I put myself together and walked into the office only for it to be empty. I just take a seat and go on my phone bored. When Jaime does walk in, he hangs up and opens the manilla folder, where stacks of papers are in.

“Jude you have to quit going out so much! Look at all these articles!” Jaime raised his voice and threw the printed papers onto the marble desk. I rolled my eyes and sunk into my chair, my legs naturally spread apart, as my hand came to my temple.

“Real Madrid’s new star boy stars on and off the pitch. Ancelotti’s new golden boy has a record similar to Grealish, could we expect to see the young player get involved in the same stuff? Oh, my favourite, Jude Bellingham is seen leaving the strip club after the place was recently investigated by local authorities!” Jaime read off the articles, leaning forward to slap the side of my head, when he noticed my unfazed look. “Okay, I get it! Shit!”

“No Jude you don’t get it! How many times have I told you this isn't England? You're in Spain. Dealing with both countries who are on your ass to find every single detail of you. They follow you around with a camera because you let them, you give them a reason too. It's already the fans doing it, but the paparazzi, no I won’t let that slide,”

“Okay, so what do you want me to do? I’ve done everything you’ve suggested me to do! I can’t stop them, or else I'll end up on the cover the next morning. I can’t just quit my fun, because of them. I deserve to have a nice evening with my friends and family, but they're always there!” I bite back.

Not even my mother keeps tabs on me like this man does. I appreciate Jaime, but it's moments like this where I want to get up and leave and do the opposite of what he tells me to do. He takes his job too seriously and overworks himself way too much. I can’t exactly be the person he wants me to be. I hate being driven around or being forced to be someone I'm not.

“We have no say and do on the paparazzi, you know that. But if you keep doing what you do, I'll have to get you a stricter PR contract, and I can assure you, it will be hell. You choose Jude. One more fuck up and it's the first text you’ll receive the next morning,” Jaime threatened.

“You can’t be serious. Jaime, I can’t be hidden away the entire time! I don’t give a shit about what they think of me! I'm focused on football and my family. I told you to let them be and write what they write!,” I say, standing up and grabbing my training bag to leave. “It's my job to protect your image as a person and footballer, Jude. And it will be like that. If you have such an issue, go ahead and fire me, but we both know what that will do for the both of us…”

“One more fuck up Jude, and you will see.” I scoff and walk out, slamming his door. The office workers jump in their seats, while I mumble out curses and insults towards him. Would he really go that far just to keep his job? Threaten my image for his self-satisfaction? Yes, he would. I sigh and scratch my chin impatiently, trying to come up with a different plan to avoid the PR contract he was talking about. But all I could do was come up with reasons and stuff to piss him off.

The idea of a PR stunt sounded stupid. Sure, I have had my share of scandals but nothing too serious like he dramatises. People just can't seem to stand the idea of no commitment, especially if it involves girls. They also couldn't stand the idea of a footballer wanting to go out and enjoy a night of themselves. Some people can be so unreasonable, like Jaime, I would say what I had to say, and I didn't care for anyone’s feelings especially if I spit out the truth.

“Yo! Hey Jude! What’s up? Looks like you got back from speaking with Carlo,” Eduardo comes up and dabs me up, teasing me for my stressed look. I chuckle, “Nah man. My publicist is pissing me off. Trying to tell me what to do and giving me shit about all these articles.”

“When will they learn,” he comments, his brow nudging to the obvious. “For the moment mine hasn't given me ‘advice’ or ‘warnings’ after our trip to South France.”

“Well lucky you. I just can’t stress about this shit right now. We have the upcoming important games, and I am determined to win. And if I do go out, he shouldn’t be up my ass about it every time,” I groan, taking out my phone and seeing a call from Aurélien. “Tchou, how can I help you?” I joke, referring to when he dealt with his situationship while on our trip to France.

“Ha ha, very funny. What are you up to tonight? We’re free tomorrow.”

“Probably nothing. Just walked out on my publicist, so If you have anything in mind to do, say it,” I put the phone on speaker so Eduardo could hear, and let him know. “Me and the guys were gonna head out the city to go to a car meet, out of Madrid,” he says. I give a look to Eduardo who just shrugs his shoulders not retaining the information.

“A car meet? Those exist here?”

“Yes, dumbass. You’d be surprised but, they're very fun. Although we shouldn't be there, it's the only place where people and paparazzi can’t recognize us. They treat each other and us like royalty, plus who wouldn’t mind some fun?” Aurélien says to us. I hesitate, only because of what just happened inside, but also the idea of it being illegal and caught. “You guys in or not?”

“Count me in.”

Jaime wouldn't know. And if Aurélien is saying we wouldn't be recognized, then why the fuck not? I'm not here to just pose for cameras and play. I'm also a regular person who deserves to live his life the way I want. Part of me thought of how bad this idea could be, but truthfully I didn’t give a shit, I just wanted to piss off Jaime. Aurélien advises us to dress nice since people who attended those car races often thought of them as fashion shows. Which is found myself calling the only girl who could help me out.

“Hey, Sunny? Sorry for the late call, could you help me out with an outfit for tonight? Just don't mention it to Jaime.”

—/— (Your Point of View) —/—

“Ok no- That’s like way too revealing! I couldn't pull that off” I brushed away the shortest skirt she found. “Nuh uh- No way. You're going to wear it, and it's going to be worn with these shoes and lace meshy top,” Marie comes behind me and puts both hangers to my front. “My whole butt is out in this skirt! People are gonna see my-” I waved with my hands to my lower region to which she snickers.

“Either you race or don’t,” Marie says, to which I just squint my eyes together. “Fine! I will at least pick out my jacket!” I pick up the clothes and quickly change into the pieces of clothes she gave me. My makeup was already done, a simple and not too heavy look since I had to wear a mask and helmet underneath while I raced. All I had to do was take my hair out of my rollers and apply some deodorant and jewellery and we could make the drive down.

Marie gasped as I walked out, clapping her hands excitedly as she approached me. “You look so fucking hot, I could make out with you!” Her hands roam and fix my skirt so they pull lower and hang around my hips. I give her a look but she quickly shrugs me. I go to the mirror and tug on both items. “I don't know whether to pull this up or or tug it down,” I say shuffling.

“Hurry! Fix your hair and put your boots on. You have a race to win!”

I pose for a selfie when I see Marie point her phone towards me, my hands on the steering wheel as I pull into the gravel road that heads to the main road to the tracks. Goosebumps raise my skin as I hear the music and loud car exhaust as we pull in. Other cars are doing donuts, which I find silly, or showing off their engines. “Hi Matty, how are ya tonight?” I ask the middle-aged man who sighs and hands me my racer number and time slot. He’s tired of his job, but just like everyone else here, he has his reasons. “Same old same old. I bet money on ya tonight, so you better win against that trashy girl Jacqueline,” he points out, handing me back the cashback after I paid. “Good luck tonight, make us proud!” he winks.

I smile and shift to one as I drive down to the start of the line. The tracks are old and kinda messy. They can shift from gravel to normal roads, which causes some drivers to lose focus. “Nervous for tonight?” Marie asks to which I nervously nod. “I mean it's against Jacqueline, we’ve had our shares in the past and she’s good,” I say.

“Yeah but not as good as you. Keep that in mind. Just think of the money, it will be your motive,” she says. We open the door and step out, I hear commotion and then look up to people cheering for me. I wave and thank them before walking over to our group who’s standing by the starting line. We all hug and chat about the race, which is filled with a lot of rivals going head to head.

I could feel my blood pumping as I watched the two Mustangs take out, their exhaust fumes following. The excitement you face also comes to anticipation as you watch which car will make it first to the end. The yellow Mustang wins by .4 seconds after they race for almost two minutes. I turn to the side when I hear my name being called, “Y/n, when are we gonna race?”

“As soon as you let me see what’s under your hood,” they scoff and walk off. It would've been too easy…

—/— (Jude’s Point of View) ---/—

The black LV suit was perfect for the occasion. Aurélien was right, people do dress as if they were attending fashion shows here. We all decided to go in two cars, making the almost forty-minute drive down to this closed-off restricted area. We followed the guide who led us up to the almost ‘VIP’ area.

The commotion was loud. People were either drinking, making out, or dancing. Or those who wanted to feel lucky, gambled money by playing poker. This truly did feel like a bad idea now, but I couldn't care less now that I was drinking a beer. We had clear and perfect views of the track, I was lucky to attend an F1 show in the past but this? This was completely different.

Fancy or new cars racing, and it was just the beginning. I talked with Eduardo for a good time as I observed the loud car go head to head towards the finish line. Music played loudly, but as Aurélien had said, no one recognized us. We step out and that’s when I notice the black challenger pull in. Two girls step out, but it's the driver who gets my attention. She chews gum and listens with boredom as they explain the rules to her.

My eyes roam down her slim and fit body, and I get a closer look when she quickly puts on her mask and helmet. I find myself not being able to look away, especially after she faces her opponent, ignoring their truce handshake. She’s too confident and now has my full attention.

Her windows are rolled down, her hand on the wheel, and the other is on the gear shift, patiently waiting for the light to turn green. “Who’s that?” I finally speak, completely forgetting I was in mid-conversation with Eduardo. “That’s Y/n in the black challenger. And in the red camaro is Jacqueline. They hate their guts, biggest rivals after Jacqueline's brother cheated on a race. Y/n, she’s the best of the best…” speaks a different guy. “Word on the street is that Jacqueline is involved in a gang, but who knows,” he says.

Y/n pulls out her thumb signalling she’s ready, and then quickly drives off when the light turns green. Just like the guy had said, she was the best of the best, quickly drifting and turning onto the tracks. Her car was faster than the red camaro, and you could tell the determination to win was there. I just waited for it to go the other way.

Soon yelling and commotion started when Jacqueline caught up, and took the lead, Y/n just maintained her speed and control as before. “What is she doing? She’ll lose if she doesn't catch up!” said another guy. I furrowed my brows and crossed my arms, looking back at the two cars on the race track. I didn’t understand how this worked, but it looked like not even I could make those turns, especially at those speeds.

Everyone gasped or oohed when the camaro lost control and failed to do the sharp tight turn correctly, cheering when Y/n went back to the lead and quickly made it to the finish line. We walked down to the starting line where she got out, and put her hands up, and cheered. She took her helmet and mask off, and that's when I truly was drawn to her facial features. “Bro? You’re drooling,” Brahim joked to which I just pushed his shoulder.

The crowd went quiet as the red camero pulled in, an angry Jacqueline and passenger getting off to confront Y/n. “You cheated!” she points at her to which the girl wearing all black just snorted and chuckled, “No babes. You just suck. I won, just like the other times before. Now go whine somewhere else and leave us alone for once.”

Her eyes connected with mine, and it felt like time just slowly flew by. Her lips parted, as she took me in, her hand holding the helmet and now stack of cash. She looked away and shyly smiled towards her friends, them congratulating her. She would nod then and there and only stick with those friends. “I’ll be back. Going to congratulate the winner,” I say and smile at Eduardo who wishes me luck. I don't need luck I'm Jude Bellingham.

I was determined to know more about her. Who she was, and why she raced especially. But before I could introduce myself, a loud bang and glass shattering prevented me from doing so. The last I saw while we ran was Y/n getting into her car and driving away. A loud car pulled near us, the familiar face and eyes locking with mine.

“Hurry! Get in!”

---/--- ( author's note) ---/---

hiiiii! first chapter eeekkkk! I hope you all enjoyed it and didn't think this was too long! I truly enjoyed writing this, and can't wait for you guys to read the rest. I'm also praying this doesn't flop or I'll be really upset... have an amazing day!

[blackcatwriter]

Summer Love (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

a/n: college has been beating me up lately so I've decided to spend my time writing again instead of studying. yay! here's another arthur pic because I can't get him out of my mind. also just wanted to say all your likes, reblogs, and comments are everything to me. its nice to know that at least someone out there in the world likes what I write so big thank you :]

shout out to @scumscumpooties47 for taking the time to not just read this once but twice. love you fool 💜

warnings: canon typical violence, fluff/some angst, canon ending, set prior to rdr2, mary linton never happens here!

wc: 5k

summary: You take an interest in the new stable hand your father hired.

line divider by @enchanthings

You met him in the summer of 1881. It had been particularly hot that July, but you did your best to endure it as you committed yourself to tending to the family business. Being the only extra hand capable of assisting your father with the horses, you had been pulling your weight and then some. 

Of course, you were disappointed. Valentine was a small town–so small that it seemed you knew everyone and everyone knew you. Arthur had been new to the town, passing through with two charmingly mysterious older men for the summer. Your mother had been no different either. She was extremely protective of preserving your innocence–whatever that meant–and kept you busy with household chores. It was only one afternoon when both your father and mother had been away that you managed to sneak out to the stables, where Arthur would be working.

Poking your head in from the doors, you watched as he shoveled the manure into a wheelbarrow. The stench of the manure should’ve been enough to deter you away, but you hadn’t expected him to be so muscular. His shirt had been discarded somewhere else, allowing you the view of his sweaty muscles flexing as he cleaned the stalls. With each lift of the shovel, his biceps flexed in a way that left you feeling flushed in your face. Your dignity was long gone at that point. There, in all his sweaty glory, stood the boy your parents told you to stay away from, Arthur Morgan.

And here you were in a simple dress that had surely seen better days and messy unruly hair. For god's sake, you couldn’t even be sure if you had anything on your face. Why hadn’t you double checked that? How is it possible for someone to look this good shoveling literal shit? Life was clearly not fair. 

But you were here now and who knew when you’d have another chance to chat with him. Taking a deep breath, you tried to relax and walked into the stables. Calm down. He’s just like any other guy in town, totally not gorgeous or rugged. As to not startle him, you announced your presence by clearing your throat as you made your way towards him. It was just as he set the shovel down to acknowledge you, that you stepped on a piece of manure and fell. It was only by luck that you fell on your butt rather than faceforward, but nonetheless you were still mortified. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. Haven’t gotten there yet.” Arthur mumbled, walking to you and reaching out a hand. Sheepishly, you accepted his help and stood. You thought he was tall from afar, but standing this close to him left you feeling rather foolish. What interest would he have in you? You’re just a stable man’s daughter. Surely in whatever adventures he’s had in other towns–he must’ve seen all kinds of beautiful women. 

“Are ya’ alright, miss?” He took his hat in his hand and used his other hand to slick back his hair. Oh the things you’d give to be raking your hand through his hair with his head in your lap, looking up at you–

“Miss?” Arthur interrupted your thoughts. Feeling rather defeated from your fall and now being caught gazing at him starry eyed, you’d wanted to run back to your room and curl up on your bed. “I’m-I’m alright. I’m just rather frazzled, that’s all. No one’s fault but my own.” You rambled, desperately trying to look everywhere but at him. “S’a good thing you ain’t hit your head. I wouldn’t be workin’ here much longer if ya’ did.” It was clear Arthur wasn’t as comfortable as you would’ve liked him to be. Being as well-traveled as he was rumored to be, you would’ve thought he’d be more charismatic. 

“Mr. Morgan, I apologize. I ain’t tryna be a bother here. I just wanted to introduce myself.” And so you did. You introduced yourself to him, giving him the best smile you could muster under the mortifying circumstances you had just been. “You’re the bosses’ daughter; you ain’t a bother at all.” A small lop-sided grin grew on his face to your delight. 

And so you spent the rest of the afternoon following him around the stalls. You had offered to help him with the work, but he refused to let you. Arthur claimed it was something along the lines of “it ain’t right to let a woman handle something he was hired for” or so he said. You think he just didn’t want you falling flat on the floor again.

Once the sun began setting and you knew your parents would be back soon, he offered to walk you back to your little farmhouse on the outskirts of Valentine. Your little slip in the manure had been long forgotten by the both of you after Arthur had offered you his jacket to tie around your waist while you walked back. 

“How long ya’ plan on staying around for?” Clasping your hands behind your back, you pretended to not be as curious as you truly felt. Arthur was a breath of fresh air from this small town. There was far more to him than meets the eye as you had spent the day discovering. “I dunno. Guess that all depends on what Dutch thinks.” He shrugged.

Walking up the porch of your home, the lights were still off, which meant your parents were still out. “This is me.” Thrumming your fingers on the railing, you couldn’t help but hope he’d want to steal a few more moments with you. 

He stood tired on the other side of the railing looking up to you. Arthur had been up since the sun, helping Dutch with his plans and then working for your father. He hadn’t had a break the entire day, yet somehow he felt re-energized standing before you. The moonlight shone brightly above the both of you, dancing in your eyes. You had this spirit about you that left him wanting to linger around your company. He never saw anything like it and Arthur had been through all kinds of crowds. Still, it’d be foolish to get caught up with you. 

For starters, he’d end up with a bullet between his eyes if his boss ever caught the two of you together. The other problem that had his main concern was Dutch. Dutch would see you as a distraction from whatever plans he and Hosea were scheming–or worse. He’d see you as a tool for his plans. Even though the young outlaw just met you today, he couldn’t help but be entranced by you.

 Unbeknownst to your knowledge, he had seen you around when he had been taking hay to the horses. He saw you in the window of your kitchen while you were helping your mother prepare lunch. It had been a harmless crush at the moment, one he’d known would be forgotten about once Dutch and Hosea carried out their plans and they’d be forced to move towns. But then you showed up in the stalls unexpectedly to him and robbed him of his heart before he could stop you.

“I should leave before your father gets back,” he took a small step forward and placed his hands next to yours on the railing. “But I should come back for my jacket sometime.” He added nonchalantly. Your pinky accidentally brushed his hand, but to your delight neither of you moved your hands away. “I’ll have it clean before ya’ do.” 

And so you said your goodbyes. He stayed on your mind and vice versa. The next time you saw each other had been when he managed to finish his work early to sneak away with you. Of course you had forgotten to bring his jacket, having kept it hidden away somewhere your nosy mother would never find it. Thus giving you the excuse to see him again with the promise of returning it.

Arthur didn’t see his jacket again for the rest of that summer. Instead, you’d have countless adventures throughout what remained of the hot weather. Most times the both of you would sneak away for a quick dip in the river that ran north of Valentine. It was risky on your end, but it would give you the opportunity to be away from the nosy eyes of your townsfolk. Sitting by the water, you dipped your feet in the river. Arthur sat by you doing the same. 

“Listen, I…I’ll be leavin’ soon. I’ve finished up most of the work I need to do for your father and Dutch says he’s got some business prospects in another town.” He scratched the back of his neck, careful to keep his gaze from yours. Neither of you ever addressed it, but it was clear what was blossoming between the two of you. 

“But what about the horses? They need year round care-takin’ and you ain’t even finished fixin’ up the roof!” The inevitable had finally come yet you thought if you were convincing enough, you’d be able to keep him for longer. The thought of being alone again after he left had been plaguing you for a while, but usually that fear would be long forgotten when he managed to make you laugh with one of his stories. 

“Your father already got another stable hand lined up for when I leave. He made sure he hired someone good to take care of them horses who can be here for the rest of the year. He loves those horses plenty…they’ll be just fine.” But by the look in his eyes you knew he wasn’t really talking about the horses. You fidgeted with your hands in your lap until he enclosed your hand with his own, giving it a gentle squeeze for comfort. 

“So…you won’t be back next summer?” You hesitantly drawled, hoping he’d understand what you were really trying to ask him. Arthur released your hand from his and took a deep breath. “There won’t be a need to. Dutch and Hosea say ain’t no reason to stick around.” He scratched at his stubble. The indifference in his voice felt like a punch to your stomach. How could he act so casually about this?

“I think it’s time I get back. My mother will be wondering where I went.” It came out more harshly than you intended, but you hoped he got the message. You stormed away from where you sat only for Arthur to grab your arm and stop you. “It ain’t like that. I got no choice in the matter.” He reasoned, raising his voice. 

“Didn’t sound like it! You seemed just fine with leavin’ me–” 

Arthur pulled you towards him, interrupting your anger with a harsh kiss. You were startled by the move, but quickly returned his passion by tugging him down towards you. “I ain’t the man you think I am. I’ve done some bad things.” He rested his forehead against yours, panting as he caught his breath

“You’re smarter than that, don’t be foolish. We need to get ya’ back home before the suns gone.” He walked back to his horse, leaving you standing there dumbfounded. Eventually, your senses returned to you and you followed in his footsteps to his horse, but you were more than sure you had left your heart there.

As he said, Arthur returned you to your farmhouse and disappeared in the darkness of the evening. The days went on and you stayed away from your father’s stables as you were too scared to face the heartbreak of seeing a new stablehand. Your mother noticed your drop in mood and pestered you for a long time about it before eventually leaving you alone to your devices. 

Arthur had been your first love and your first crushing heartbreak. Yet, as the seasons changed and time passed, Arthur began to occupy your mind less and less. However, along with burying his jacket under your bed you seemed to have erased any notions of romance in your life completely. 

You seemed to have changed with the seasons too, and having a new sense of maturity in your nature, the men of Valentine began noticing you. You rejected all of their advances, but it wasn’t as if you swore off romance entirely after the heartbreak Arthur left. You were simply looking for something that made you feel what Arthur did, but not once did they ever come close. In all your time together he only kissed you once, but god did he kiss you with his entire being. Pressing your fingers to your lips, you wondered where he was. 

“All aboard!” The conductor yelled from the train, knocking you out of your thoughts. Picking up your purse, you hurriedly boarded the train to pick a nice seat by the window. Being an adult now, you have begun traveling out of Valentine in hopes of finding opportunities for jobs in other towns. You loved your family dearly, but you had outgrown Valentine a long time ago and it was time for change. So here you were on a train to Blackwater for an interview. 

The only bad thing being that the head banker only seemed to have time for an interview in the morning before the bank opened, so you had woken early and got to the train station before the sun was up. Your mother had desperately begged you not to go, seeing as there might be criminals looking to rob trains while it’s still dark out, but you fought back.

While the folk in your hometown were sweet on your family, this was your chance to explore as much of the world as you could. You were young and a woman so when you  inevitably married you knew you’d be limited by duties as a wife. Besides, how far could one go in Valentine? 

The cart you sat in thankfully only had a few other people in it to which you were grateful. As the train began rolling forward it began lulling you to sleep. A woman traveling by herself at such hours should be alert of her surroundings, but you were too tired to give a damn. Yawning, you leaned against the window and relaxed, drifting out of consciousness. 

By the time you awoke, you were nearly to Riggs Station from which there you’d take a wagon to Blackwater. All was going accordingly until the train came to a sudden stop, followed by loud shots fired outside the train. The passengers in your cart began screaming, looking around at each other as if any of them had any idea what was happening. You yourself were wide awake now, startled by the sound of yelling men outside the train. If you survived this, you were sure you’d never survive your mother’s worrying. 

You poked your head up to look out the window and saw horses standing by as the men began making their way on the train. In the dark you could’ve sworn that one of the horses had a similar coat pattern to Arthur’s horse, but it’d be silly to dwell on that especially in a moment like this. One by one, the masked men made their way through the carts demanding money from what you could hear. Grabbing your purse you looked at what you had inside. You only had enough dollars on you for a train ticket back to Valentine and the lunch your mother packed. Perhaps they’d take pity on you and leave you alone.

“Hands up, this is a robbery! Make any moves and I’ll shoot ya’!” The man barged in with a gun in one hand and a sack of money in the other hand. “Give us all your money!” He threatened, slowly walking up the aisle. Most of the men gave their money and watches without a fight, except for the man in the seat behind you. “I ain’t scared of you and I ain’t giving you jack shit.” He spat, crossing his arms.

Raising your head from the ground you turned to look at him. He sat firm in his seat even with the robber right in front of him. The robber cocked his head as if the man’s defiance entertained him. “Alright, maybe my friend here might change your mind.” He stepped back and allowed the man behind him to move forward.

If the first robber was tall then this second man was a giant. His boots thudded on the hardwood floors of the train as he raised his revolver at the man. The only visible feature of the masked man’s face were his cold blue eyes. Eyes that you remember once looking into lovingly so many summers ago. 

“Arthur?” The name came out before you could properly register what was occurring in front of you. Your sweet and quiet Arthur Morgan had a raised gun in the face of the man behind you and all you could do was sit there in shock. He visibly faltered by the shock of your being there allowing the man he threatened to knock the gun out of his hand. “Arthur!” His fellow gunman yelled, shooting the passenger before he had another chance to fight back. The man instantly went limp against his seat at the horror of the other passengers. 

Your eyes darted between the now dead man and Arthur who stood silently. Just as you were about to speak, lawmen arrived at the scene of the robbery. “Come on, we gotta go!” The robber shouted as he ran out of the cart. The outlaw’s gaze stayed firmly on you like he couldn’t hear anything else that was happening. The sound of a bullet shooting through a window was what made him duck next to you, instinctively covering you with his body. “We gotta go, come on.” His voice was gruff in your ear. Arthur ushered you away with the safety of his chest against your back as protection, keeping his gun aimed in the air to keep everyone away. 

“He’s taking her hostage!” One of the women in the seats yelled. Truthfully, you didn’t really have a choice in being led away by him but it likely wouldn’t be any different if it was in your power. Here was the man who stole your heart so long ago yet he couldn’t be anymore different than when you first met him. Just as you were about to exit, he pulled you back and whispered in your ear, “No ones gonna hurt ya’.” 

“What do you mean? What are you–” Arthur pushed you out the cart before you finished your sentence. The cold steel of his revolver was pressed against your without notice, but not enough to hurt you. “Shoot and I’ll kill the little lady.” He barked, making the lawmen instantly lower their guns. Your eyes widened in shock as you processed his words. Kill the little lady? 

Arthur dragged you along with him, using you as a human shield for him until you reached the horse you noticed earlier. The man who was on the train with Arthur earlier helped you mount the horse before turning to Arthur. “You sure about this? Dutch ain’t gonna be too happy to hear about this.” He waved his gun around.

“John, you worry about yourself and I’ll worry about her. Now go! I’ll see you at camp later.” Arthur kept his gun towards the lawmen as he mounted the horse. You held on tight behind him, but you didn’t fail to notice he certainly had more muscle on him now than he did all those years ago. Was this man who protected you one moment then risked your life the next, still your Arthur? Was he still even yours?

While you worried over Arthur’s new identity, the rest of his accomplices stayed behind to give the both of you a chance at escaping with the lawmen on your tail. The horse galloped away into the hills and forests until you recognized the area as the heartlands. You spent the entire ride unsure of what to say. What would you even say? He had just finished robbing the train you were on AND took you with him. What did he plan to do with you?

“We’ll stop here for the night. You’ll need rest.” He pulled the reins on his horse, stopping in an area passerbyers wouldn’t be able to see. The outlaw dismounted the horse first before grabbing you by the waist to lift you off. He remained silent for the rest of what took him to set up a small fire. After he was done, you both sat on a log as he prepared venison over the fire. 

“It ain’t much, but it’ll do.” He handed you the meat and took a bite of what was left. “Arthur, what is happening? We haven’t spoken in years and then you just rob the train I’m on and now what? You think you can just take me hostage?” An overwhelming sensation fell over you as you began to process your reality. You were in the middle of a forest, with a man you’re not sure you know anymore, with no way home.

“I never said you had to stay. You’re free to leave, but Valentine is still a good walk away from here and there still might be bad folk walkin’ around.” He spoke nonchalantly as he munched on his food. The unseriousness in his voice left your jaw hanging. This wasn’t the Arthur you knew. “Well I can’t just walk out of here! I ain’t got a way home and I had an interview set up within the coming hour and now–now what am I gonna do?” You stood from your seat angrily, pacing by the fire. “And who are you? I don’t recognize this version of you!”

“I told you I did bad things.” He grunted. “I don’t know why I took you here. I just saw you and I acted without thinkin’. You do that to me.” Arthur mumbled the last few words, but you managed to make out what he meant. 

“You can’t risk my entire future just on the whim! It’s my future!” Arthur winced at your raising voice. Shame was clear on his face as he nervously scratched at his fully grown beard. “I’m not some “little lady” you can order around. I ain’t that girl you knew from before.” You groaned, tugging at your hair in frustration. Arthur sighed and stood in front of you. “I’m sorry.” He took his hat in his hands and fidgeted. Only you could render this force of a man to be so vulnerable. That’s why he never brought you up again once he left Valentine so long ago–and why he could never bring himself to go back. 

“I’ll take you back home and…I’ll give you some money to make up for missin’ out on that job. I was an idiot for doin’ this. I’m sorry.” He turned from you and began kicking dirt over the dying fire. “Arthur.” You softly spoke. “Arthur, look at me.” Smiling sadly, you placed a hand on his shoulder. As he turned to face you, you took his hat from his hands and placed it to the side. “I missed you too.” 

Cradling his face in your hands you kissed him with a tenderness he hadn’t known in so long. One hand came to hold the back of your head while the other moved to your lower-back, keeping you close. “I ain’t ever known a woman who ever kissed like you do.” He caressed your cheek lovingly. “Yeah?” A laugh escaped you, the way most of your feelings did when you were around Arthur. He seemed to have a way of doing that to you. 

“Come on, cowboy. We’ve been here long enough. Them lawmen are gonna come running through any second and what’re we gonna tell them? I fell in love with my captor?” You teased him, nudging his shoulder. Arthur’s cheeks reddened slightly to your hearts delight. He never enjoyed expressing his feelings so it was nice when you could catch him off guard. It was almost like the old days. 

“They’ll think you’re as crazy as me and just kill us both.” He grumbled, earning another laugh from you. Arthur packed everything back onto his horse and helped you back up onto the horse before sitting behind you. The rest of the way back to Valentine, you and him shared stories of the parts of your lives neither of you were present for. Arthur came clean about his situation and clarified that the man John had killed on the train was not how they normally went about things. 

“Dutch’s motto is we save folk as need savin’, kill folk as need killin’, and feed folk as need feedin’. We ain’t heartless people. Most of us anyways.” He chuckled. You had leaned back against him, relaxing in his arms the entire time. It’s been so long since you’ve been back in your favorite place. “Dutch had done right by you from what I hear. I trust you ain’t needlessly killing people.” You hummed, sighing dreamily. 

You knew that you should be mortified–disgusted by his actions. You should be screaming your head off for someone to save you. Arthur’s hands were crimson red from the amount of blood he had shed, but they were the same hands that held you so gently. You knew there was no safer place on earth than in his arms. He’d do anything for you and you felt the same. 

Of course, you knew your time with him was coming to an end once more. Valentine was visible in the distance which left you disheartened, but you didn’t show. Once you arrived closer to town, Arthur had raised his bandana over his face again to protect his identity. Word was bound to be spreading over an outlaw holding a woman of your description captive. You’d have a limited time with him until someone reported him and he’d be on the run again.

He stopped the horse when they reached your farmhouse, thankfully your parents must’ve still been asleep, giving you the chance to bid him goodbye. Just like the first time you met, you stood on the porch with Arthur looking up at you, but this time his hands held yours. “Where you gonna run off to now? Lawmen are gonna be looking for you.” You leaned over the railing, smiling down on him.

“You don’t need to worry, sweetness. I’ve been on the run for my whole life. Ain’t nothing that can keep me away from you anymore.” His words sent a warmth coursing through your body. Damn this man and his words. “Does that mean I can expect to see you again? Or do I have to wait for you to rob the train I’m on?” You grinned. 

He rolled his eyes, but smirked at your teasing. “I’ll be back before you know it.” Satisfied with his vague answer, you gave him a kiss to hold him over for however long he’ll be gone. “I’ll be here.” Arthur kissed you once more before mounting his horse and galloping away. 

Clearing up the air with the head banker, someone had notified him about your misfortune with your train to Blackwater to which he understandably rescheduled your interview. You managed to make it to the bank this time and impressed them with your skills, earning yourself the job. And true to his word, Arthur visited you once again in the summer. He set up camp nearby and spent the high season with you down by the river or in nearby towns where you wouldn’t fear your father shooting Arthur.

He’d leave at the beginning of fall, but would return every summer to see you again. It wasn’t a conventional situation, but he was a man worth the wait. He’d spend every summer loving you as much as he could before the cold came to whisk him away again and when he faced his ultimate ending, you’d visit him every summer where his grave stood. 

[ilikekidsshows]

hey I figure that you’re probably tired of talking about the Sentimonster nonsense but I genuinely still can’t stand that it’s an actual thing. The wildest thing about it is that I JOINED the fandom because of the Sentimonster theory, actually got excited for it and looked forward to hints, not believing the skeptics or the salters bc it didn’t seem like such a big deal—that is until I saw with my own eyes how SO MANY FANS said with their whole chest that, in “Ephemeral” Adrien HAD to be a Sentimonster or there was no other “sympathetic explanation” for why he didn’t de-akumatize himself or fight off Gabriel.

Seeing the victim blaming in real time was such a punch in the gut—and then they just kept on coming!! It finally hit me how damaging the entire thing because for the show as a whole. If even regular fans that weren’t even known for salting could so willingly disregard and ignore genuine abuse coping mechanisms in favor of magical BS… it was such a dark time. Abuse Apologism and victim blaming in a whole package

Sometimes, when I write about Miraculous, I pretend I'm writing about a show that only had three seasons. That's what the "zagulous fandom" tag is for; it's for posts that are about the parts of Miraculous that had Zag's executive control keeping Astruc in check. I also kinda accepted long ago that my blog's kind of a support blog for people who are against the Sentihuman concept.

When I first heard of the expanded Sentimonster theory, the one that went "all the rich kids are Sentimonsters", I instantly went: "You do realize how making victims of child abuse nonhumans with questionable rights minimizes their victimhood and excuses their abusers, right?" people told me I was making stuff up and whoopsie doo, the writers did exactly that.

Neither Gabriel nor Tomoe faced any consequences for abusing Adrien and Kagami because, after all, since they're Sentimonsters, the real abuse was that they didn't have their Amoks so giving them their Amoks resolves all their problems. The only abusive parent who gets acknowledged as such is Félix's dad, who is dead by the time we hear about any of this, because we can't have abusive parents face consequences for their actions because that might upset people or whatever excuses Astruc's giving for Gabriel's vindication now.

This also minimises all the affects of the abuse on the kids, since they can be handwaved away with: "They were just programmed that way." Kagami's bad social skills aren't because her mother isolated her, it's because she forgot to program Kagami with those skills. Félix's villainous behavior isn't because his mother is overly permissive with him, he was just programmed that way (by the eeeeevil Colt). Adrien isn't a people pleaser because he's repeating his abuse coping mechanisms with his overly controlling girlfriend to keep her happy the same way he did to his overly controlling father, he was just programmed to be the perfect doting son and boyfriend.

You'll notice how neatly this ties into the crew denying that Chloé was abused in any way ever by her clearly abusive mother. Chloé wasn't made into a Sentimonster, so we can't have her bad coping with her abuse be excused by "Sentimonster programming", so now the writers are just gaslighting the audience and saying: "Chloé wasn't mistreated by her parents which caused her to act to out to get attention (which she literally stated to be her motive in season 3), in fact, she's the one who's been terrorizing her poor, innocent father and he needs to be protected from this naturally occuring evil hellspawn."

All child abuse in this show gets excused.

Of course, now the writers have an added reason to make sure Adrien's abuse gets excused in particular: because they made Marinette benefit from it. As I said, Adrien is repeating abuse coping mechanisms learned from dealing with his father to keep Marinette happy. He's always prioritizing her feelings and never brings up his own problems, and this is good for Marinette, because she can just enjoy having a perfect boyfriend who caters to her every need and doesn't have problems of his own or with the ways she treats him (for all she knows). She's even maintaining this status quo by lying about Gabriel to Adrien, so Adrien won't get upset (and have emotional needs that she would need to help him with). Either we have to excuse Adrien's abuse, or we have to admit Marinette is benefitting from the fact that Adrien was abused, and even taking advantage with the way she makes no effort to improve their communication on her end, preferring to spy on Adrien and lie to him instead of just talking to him like an equal.

The show writers are also allergic to following through on their creative decisions, is what I think. They put all these different victims of child abuse and neglect in the show, and then dehumanized these children in different ways so that they wouldn't actually need to say anything about that abuse they wrote in and they can instead pretend it was never there. This is why I also think that, no matter how much the show's defenders insist the story isn't over yet, we will never be getting a proper resolution to the Sentinonsense.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

First heartache is hard; Jack Kline x reader

*Author's note*

Well this only took me two days to write which I do like when I can easily write a story that fast hehehe so @gabrielasilva1510 here is your ANGSTY Jack Kline request.

Warning: MAJOR ANGST, Character death, NO FLUFF AT ALL ONLY HURT, blood, violence (this is supernatural afterall so SPN level of violence). Basically get your tissues ready cause this is a sad one.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

___________________________________________________________

Jack stood outside in the cold night after a long training session with Bobby.  Now that his grace was gone, he had to build up his strength mortally, which meant getting punched and falling down a lot, and getting hurt whilst getting beaten down.  He thought he had felt powerless before, but his mind always went back to what happened that night at the church.  The moment he truly felt powerless.

The night he had lost you.

*Flashback*

Bobby, Mary and (Y/n) stood in the main lobby of the bunker still debating about who in the world would wanna kill Maggie.  After questioning all the hunters from the apocalypse world, they decided that none of them had any motive to hurt her, and that maybe it was just some creep or psycho looking to murder and innocent girl in the woods.

“I mean it’s not uncommon. That’s what happened to my mom’s sister once when they were younger. Some bastard slit her throat, raped her, and dumped her body over the bridge. That’s when I learned that there are more monsters in humanity than there are in the supernatural sense.” (Y/n) said.

“She’s not wrong.” Mary said supporting (Y/n’s) statement.  As Bobby nodded, they soon heard footsteps and that’s when they saw Jack.

“Oh Jack.” (Y/n) sighed with relief but before she could race up to hug him, they were horrified to see Lucifer coming up behind him.

“Hey~” Lucifer greeted with a small wave.

“Kid, what in the sam hell is—?!” demanded Bobby but Jack interrupted him.

“It’s okay. He’s here to help.”

“Him!?” (Y/n) asked exasperatedly.

“Yeah tigress, me.” Lucifer said booping her nose to which she cringed and slapped his arm away from her.  “Okay touchy-touchy Ms. Temper pants.” He said walking away following his son to where Maggie lay dead.

“Call Sam now!” Mary whispered urgently to Bobby as she and (Y/n) followed Lucifer and Jack while Bobby made a call to the boys.

“So you’re leaving dead bodies on tables now? Nice.” questioned Lucifer.

“We were waiting to give her a hunter’s funeral.” (Y/n) said.

“You won’t have to. My father he’s going to bring Maggie back to life.”

“Jack what are you doing?” asked Mary.

“What I have to do. This is my second chance.” Jack answered.

“Jack,” (Y/n) started.  “What happened to Maggie was a horrible thing that never should’ve happened. But it was beyond your control. You couldn’t have known when or where she’d be attacked and murdered.”

“But I promised her I’d keep her safe. All of them.”

“There are some things that you can’t prevent Jack.”

“I’d listen to your little girlfriend son. Plus this whole resurrection thing is kinda tricky. People don’t often come back as themselves.”

“Sam didn’t.” Said Jack.

“Yeah well Sam’s always been a little—in the head to begin with.”

“And like you’re not?” sassed (Y/n).  Lucifer snide at her comment.

“You said you’d do anything.” Jack told him.  The intense look in his eyes soon made Lucifer relent and he did what Jack said he’d do.  Placing his hand on Maggie’s forehead, his eyes glowed red and suddenly Maggie shot up gasping for air.  Immediately, (Y/n) grabbed Jack’s hand and took him out of the room and they came into the kitchen.

“(Y/n) what—”

“What deal did he offer you?” she interrupted him.

“What?”

“Back there, when you told him that he’d do anything you’d ask. What was the deal he offered you?” Jack looked at the harsh stare of her (e/c) eyes and told her.

“We’re gonna see the galaxy together. Like in Star Wars. But I said I’d only go if he helped bring Maggie back.” (Y/n) looked at Jack in shock.

“What? You’re going with him?”

“Well not just me,” Jack stepped forward and took both of her hands into his, gently stroking the back of her knuckles.  “I also said I wanted you to come along too. You always said you wanted to see the stars up close.”

“Jack I—” (Y/n) was a mixture of emotions.  Horror, shock, perplexed, torn, and upset.  “Lucifer he’s…..I can’t.”

“Why not?” Jack asked.

“Jack, there’s nothing in this world that I would like more than to explore the galaxy with you, but with Lucifer tagging along. Something doesn’t sit right with me.”

“He’s changed. He really wants to try (Y/n). Would the old Lucifer have offered you to come along with us?”

“I know that no matter old or new Lucifer, whatever he claims to be now, he’s always gets something out of his deals. And if he doesn’t, he’ll take it anyways.” Jack dropped (Y/n)’s hands, his chest rising and falling as he tried to control his anger.

“Why can’t you be happy for me for once?!”

“Jack I have always been happy for you! Looking out for you! Besides Cas and Sam, I’ve always been the one that’s always in your corner! But you can’t trust what Lucifer says! Believe me I know.”

“Oooo, did I come at a bad time?” Lucifer’s voice spoke out as he peeked his head from the kitchen door before walking inside.

“Get out!” demanded (Y/n).

“I’ll admit son, you at least picked one with fire in her.”

“How the hell did you get back here!?” snapped (Y/n).

“Does it really matter?”

“Let me think, yes it does! Now quit stalling and tell him what you’re really here for!”

“What I’m—listen (n/n) I already told him. I want to take my son to see the galaxies, the stars, hell the entire universe itself. I’m done playing second fiddle to pops and his game. I wanna be removed from the chess board completely and not have to worry about anything than showing my son the wonders of the universe. With you of course by his side if you choose to go.”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere with you if my life depended on it!” (Y/n) snarled with a sneer.  Lucifer shrugged.

“Alright well, there’s no changing your mind. Let’s bounce son.” Jack slowly walked towards him but (Y/n) grabbed his hand and pleaded to him.

“Jack please, don’t go with him. He’s using you.”

“Would you mind stop gaslighting my own son against me? Geez that’s the thing with you women sometimes, especially teenage girls.”

“Jack. Jack please.” Jack turned to her and said.

“He’s my father.” (Y/n) stood there stunned and released his hand and watched hopelessly as the two of them vanished from the kitchen.

“(Y/n)!? (Y/n)!!” soon Bobby came in and he looked around and asked, “Where’s the kid?” (Y/n) buried her face into her hands and wept.  Bobby then walked up and awkwardly wrapped his arms around the weeping girl before bringing her back to rejoin Mary and the newly resurrected Maggie.

When the brothers and Cas returned, they had told that Michael had also somehow managed to come into this world along with Lucifer.  That to (Y/n) struck a chord in how Lucifer must surely been planning something.  There’s absolutely no chance that those two archangels would willingly team-up to escape apocalypse world.  And with Maggie’s death it—it can’t be a coincidence.  She stood up and walked off.

“Uhh (Y/n) where are you going?” asked Dean.

“To talk to Maggie.” Sam immediately took off and stopped her and he said to her, “Hey, hey relax okay? Look mom told us what happened and to interrogate her now while she’s still trying to wrap her mind about being resurrected it—”

“I know Sam. You Winchesters aren’t the only ones to have been resurrected. But I have to know just who killed her. This all is one too big coincidence for them to have come back and Maggie ends up dead the same day they both come through their own rift.”

“You think it was one of them that killed Maggie?”

“Like I said, it’s a hunch but it’s too big of one to ignore.”

“Then let me come with you.”

“You just want to keep an eye on me because of my impatience.” She snapped accusingly.

“That and I also want to find out the truth. Hey,” Sam could sense the anxiety running through (Y/n)’s body about Jack.  “We’re gonna find him.”

“He’s…..” (Y/n) trailed off before confessing her deep secret.  “He’s my best friend. I—I can’t lose him.”

“We won’t. We’ve got everyone looking for them. Now let’s go see about your hunch.” Sam and her walked to where Maggie was sitting in the library trying to process everything that had just happened. “Maggie?” Sam broke her silence as she slightly jumped and turned her attention to Sam who sat down beside her at the table that was once her deathbed.  “Hey, sorry. You okay?”

“I’m alive so…..yes.” she replied.

“Right. So listen, we know this is all weird right now but uhh…..before you died, do you remember anything about the person that killed you?”

“Does it really matter? I mean don’t you guys have a lot bigger Satan-y stuff to deal with right now?”

“Yes but it’s getting handled. For now, just answer Sam’s question.” (Y/n) said.  Maggie took a deep breath in before saying.

“I—never saw his face. But…..I saw his eyes.”

“His eyes?” asked Sam.  Maggie nodded.

“They were—unlike anything I had seen before. Those bleeding red, glowing eyes.” Once they heard that, both Sam and (Y/n) looked at each other in shock.

“I knew it!” (Y/n) muttered under her breath but at that moment, a sudden loud boom sounded off from outside.  It almost sounded like a firework or a bomb had went off close by, then the lights began flickering on and off.  The three of them went to rejoin Dean and the others as the front doors of the bunker began to jostle and bang loudly, like someone was trying to break in. “Ahhh shit.” (Y/n) said under her breath.

“Mom, Bobby, take Maggie out of here through the garage.” Sam said.

“We’ll buy you some time.” Dean said.

“What no!?” Mary said but Sam told her not to argue and soon Bobby had to drag her and Maggie out of the room to make their escape.  (Y/n) came and stood beside Cas who put an arm around her as the doors continue to jostle and the banging grew louder.  The two of them took out their blades as Sam and Dean readied their guns.

After what felt like an eternity, the door finally caved in and fell with a bang as a bright light shone through the bunker.  And soon walking in with his head held high was Michael.  Immediately Sam and Dean began to open fire at the archangel but being what Michael was, the bullets had absolutely no affect on him.  The archangel slowly levitated himself down to the floor from the catwalk entrance and Cas made the first attack with his angel blade.

But Michael easily overpowered Cas and had him flying over the table and across the room, knocking him unconscious.  (Y/n) took out her curved scythes and slashed at Michael.  He dodged each attack until he grabbed (Y/n)’s left wrist and disarmed her before breaking her arm.  She let out an agonizing scream before Michael palm-strike her straight at her chest, sending her flying and slamming into the wall.

“You really thought you could run from me?” sneered Michael.  Sam immediately went on the attack after (Y/n) had been injured but Michael easily overpowered him as well as Dean who more than anyone, put up a fight towards Michael.  But the archangel soon had Dean by the throat.

“How did you—” Dean started to say but Michael interrupted him.

“Get here? Easy. I made a deal. And now this world is mine, I can save it, purge it of sin.”

“Yeah cause that really worked out on your rock.”

“Well I’m not perfect. And yes I made mistakes, but hey second times the charm.” As (Y/n) cradled her broken arm she muttered under her breath in prayer.

“Jack. Jack I don’t know if you’ll even hear this prayer but—we need you. He’s here……Michael is here. Please, help us. He’s gonna kill us.” As Michael and Dean continued to talk back and forth of each other until Michael squeezed Dean’s throat even harder almost to the point where his bones could be heard snapping (but not enough to kill him).

As Dean was starting to slip away under Michael’s grip, the archangel was suddenly thrown back against a pillar by a familiar golden aura of power.  Dean let out a loud intake of air and coughed harshly.  Everyone looked up to see that Jack had come back.

“Jack.” Sam said as he was finally able to stand up.

“I heard your prayers.” Jack only turned to look at (Y/n) and when he had seen the woman he secretly loved hurt, rage slowly began to simmer within him.

“Yeah it’s me, yay. Uhh we done yet buddy?” Lucifer also said as he had appeared behind Jack.  He then tried to get Jack to leave now that Michael had been subdued, but it wasn’t enough for Jack.

First thing he did was walk up to (Y/n), knelt down beside her and healed her broken arm thanks to the teaching he learned from Cas.

“You okay?” he softly asked as he cupped her left cheek.

“For now.” Jack softly smiled but his soft side melted away as anger and rage now consumed him as he turned his attention to Michael.  His eyes glowed as he raised his hand up and slowly walked towards Michael and said angrily.

“You hurt my friends.” Michael let out a pained groan as he hunched forward, almost as if something were burning him from the inside out.  “You hurt my family!” Jack soon yelled as Michael screamed and felt his insides being crushed.  “You hurt (Y/N)!!” as he clenched his hand into a fist now, Michael’s vessel started to bleed from his eyes and his ears.

Everyone, including Lucifer stood there in shock at just how much power Jack held.

“LUCIFER WE HAD A DEAL!!” Michael exclaimed as he slid down to the ground in pain.

“Okay, game over. Hey buddy let’s….let’s split.” Lucifer said with a snap of his fingers wanting to lead Jack away.

“What does he mean?” Jack asked as he turned to his father.  Lucifer began stammering almost trying to play dumb but Dean soon said.

“They had a deal.” Jack then turned to Dean as he continued, “Lucifer gets you, and Michael gets everything else. He’s gonna nuke our world, Jack. Just like he did his.”

“Is this true?” Jack asked his father.

“No! It’s not.”

“Is that why you wanted us to leave? And why you knew (Y/n) wouldn’t come with?”

“Leave? (Y/n) what do you know about this?” Sam asked her.

“Lucifer told him they were going to see the stars. Then Jack said he’d only go with his dad if I got to go with them. But I refused because Lucifer would be the main tag along.”

“What you were just gonna leave the rest of us to burn?” Cas said as he was finally able to stand up after his fight with Michael.

“Okay, okay let’s slow down for a second. Are we forgetting who the real bad guy is?”

“Yeah trying telling that to Maggie dumbass.” (Y/n) snapped.

“What about Maggie?” Jack asked with a crack in his voice.

“You know you’ve done some dumb things Lucifer but even you must’ve known this would turn and bite you in the ass. Jack, Maggie saw the eyes of her killer. The glowing red eyes. Which angel amongst us has eyes like that?”

“Oh come on! Jack are you really gonna believe this girl!? (Y/n) is a hater she’d say anything to get you on their side!” Lucifer tried to point (Y/n) as the bad guy but Jack wouldn’t believe his father over her again, not after the brief pain it had caused him after they had left her behind.

“Tell me the truth!” Jack demanded as his eyes glowed and he held out his hand towards his own father.  Using his powers, he controlled Lucifer’s mind and made him verbally confess how and why he killed Maggie.  He also admitted to how much he enjoyed it.  When Jack released him, he shook his head before saying, “You’re not my father, you’re a monster.”

Lucifer’s impatience was boiling to a head until he finally let out his rage in a powerful scream as he revealed his glowing red eyes.  The scream of the devil shook the entire bunker and the Winchesters and (Y/n) had no choice but to cover their ears less their eardrums explode out of their ears.

“Okay…..I tried with you. I really, really tried with you.”

“Everything you told me was a lie.”

“Because I told you what you wanted to hear man! So what I killed the girl? Big deal! She’s just a human she doesn’t matter!”

“So am I!” Jack snapped.

“Yeah, and that’s your problem. You’re too much like your mother.”

“Jack.” Cas said as he, Sam and (Y/n) started to surround the two of them ready to attack, but Jack told them to stand back and that he’ll handle him.

“Oh yeah? Oh buddy, we could’ve been something you and me. We could’ve remade the universe. We could’ve been better Gods than dad. And I really wanted pal, I wanted that but now—if I can’t have it with you well….I don’t need you. I just need your power.” Suddenly Lucifer used an archangel blade and sliced a small cut on Jack’s throat and began absorbing his grace.

“NO!!!” Cas and (Y/n) cried out.  Once Lucifer had absorbed all of Jack’s grace, he healed the cut on his son’s neck and felt ultimate power surging through him.  Lucifer’s eyes briefly glowed the golden color of Jack’s powers and immediately (Y/n) leapt towards them and with a flash of light, the three of them were gone.

The next thing (Y/n) knew, she fell down to the floor and looked around to see that they had appeared at a small church.

“Really (Y/n)? Hitching a ride, you know you’re taking the term ‘clingy girlfriend’ to a whole new level.”

“Go to fucking hell!” she snarled through her teeth.

“Yeah, yeah been there done that.” Lucifer released his grip on his son and kicked (Y/n) square in the face sending her on her back to the floor.  She briefly rolled across the floor and as she tried to sit up, Lucifer kicked her hard in the ribs.  She let out a groan as she went for her scythe then just as Lucifer was about to stomp on her chest, she slashed his leg.

Being that the material was made of melted angel blades, it managed to cause him pain but not enough to kill him.  She backward rolled and twirled the scythe in her hand as she glared up at the devil.

“I’ll admit, you always were the more fearsome fighter out of the brothers.”

“Growing up alone on the streets of West Philly teaches you a thing or two.” She spat out some blood as she took out her other scythe.  She then charged at the devil, slashing at any chance she got but Lucifer was toying with her as he dodged every single attack that came her way.  After toying with her, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it forcing her to drop her left one first before punching her in the face repeatedly.

Every blow sounded off a broken bone on her face or nose until her mouth and nose were covered in blood.  He then took her by the throat and lifted her up.

“But you’re still human. And humans break easily. Shame though, you could’ve made at least a slightly decent daughter-in-law. But you know, I can always make more and there might be another one like you out there somewhere.” Lucifer then took her right scythe out of her hand and admired it.  “Been nice knowing you tigress.” Then he swung the scythe across her stomach.

Jack who had slowly regained consciousness after losing his grace, woke up to see the woman he loved being held by the throat and saw as his own father kill her with her own weapon.

“NOOOOO!!!” Jack cried out.  Lucifer turned and said.

“Oh good you’re awake.” He then dropped (Y/n) like a ragdoll and as she began to bleed profusely all across her stomach, her body already going into shock at the amount of blood that was already seeping out of her body.

“You—you killed her?”

“Like I said, she’s just a human. There’s dozens more out there like her, but if you’d like, I can let you join her. Classic Romeo and Juliet fashion.” But before Lucifer could do anything, a bright angelic light shone throughout the church and standing there was Dean with Sam close behind him.  The shadow of angel wings coming out from Dean who had accepted Michael as his vessel.

While Dean and Lucifer talked and fought each other, Sam quickly raced over to (Y/n) after seeing her on the ground in her own blood.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)? Hey, just hang on, keep your eyes open for me okay sweetheart?” Jack came beside her and grabbed her hands.

“I’m sorry (Y/n). I’m so, so, so sorry. I should’ve believed you this is all my fault I-I’m so sorry.”

“Not…….your……f-fa…..” (Y/n) choked out but Sam interrupted her.

“Hey, hey shhh save your strength okay? Jack, take off your jacket and put it on her stomach okay? We have to keep pressure on her wound.”

“It’s—it’s too……” weakly (Y/n) stopped Jack who looked down at her with tears in his eyes.

“No. (Y/n) we’re going to save you. Please let me save you!!”

“You—already…..did.” soon a bright light and a cry of pain echoed throughout the church and as Dean fell to the ground, they watched as Lucifer’s light was extinguished and he lay there dead.

Lucifer was finally dead.

“Is he?” Sam started to ask, almost not believing it to be true.

“He’s dead.” Jack said.  The brothers and Jack couldn’t believe it, finally after all this time Lucifer was finally dead.  Not sealed in the cage, truly dead.

“Dean, you did it.” Sam said.

“No. No man we did it.”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) did you hear that he’s really….” Jack said as he looked down, but something wasn’t right.  Her eyes were still open but there was no life to them, the soft smile was still upon her face but she was as stiff as a board.  “(Y/n)? (Y/n)?” tears began to fill his eyes.  “No, no, no, no, no, no please no!”

“Dean!” Knowing he had Michael’s power, he thought for sure he could heal the wound but just before Dean could make a step, he lurched forward in pain groaning.  “DEAN!!”

“WE HAD A DEAL!!!” Dean cried out before he too went still for a moment.

“Dean?” Sam called his brother again.  Dean rose up but his posture and the look in his eyes were different.  Dean looked around before saying.

“Thanks for the suit.” And then he disappeared, leaving Sam and Jack alone with (Y/n)’s corpse.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) please wake up! Don’t go please you can’t die!” Jack cried out.

“Jack…..” Sam trailed off.

“There’s hospitals. Human doctors can save her right!? Sam please call them!”

“It wouldn’t do any good. I’m sorry Jack, she’s gone.”

“No she can’t be gone!” Jack picked up (Y/n)’s body and wept into her neck, pleading and begging to anyone above to save her as he wept into her cold neck.

After sending a prayer to Cas about what had happened, Cas found them and brought them back to the bunker so that they could give (Y/n) a proper hunter’s funeral.  As she lay there on the table moments before she would be wrapped up, Jack stood over her utterly broken and lost.

The only thing he could do was lean down and kiss her cold blue lips.  Deep down he had hoped that true love’s kiss would awaken her, just like all those Disney movies and fairytales she had shown him could do.  But this was no fairytale, nor was there a happy ending for them.

“Jack,” Cas voice spoke gently to the grieving young man.  “It’s time.” Jack sniffled and he said.

“I’ll prepare her.” Cas nodded and left Jack to do all the prepping alone.  Once he was done, he carried the wrapped up body of the woman he loved in his arms towards her funeral pyre.  He set the body down on the wood and watched brokenly as the hunters doused her body in gasoline before Sam was the one to light the fuse and burn her body.

As they all watched (Y/n)’s clothed body burst into flames, Jack had no more tears left to spent, but his heart continued to ache him and he would soon be the only one to remain at her pyre even after all the other hunters went back to work to search for Michael.

*End of flashback*

“Jack?” he heard Sam’s voice say.  He felt as Sam came up and stood beside him.  “You okay?”

“As fine as I can be.” Jack said monotonously.

“Look Jack, I know it’s difficult without your grace. But Bobby said you’re really improving and soon you’ll—”

“It’s not that.” Sam looked perplexed for a moment but then realized what he meant.

“Oh.” Jack nodded softly and turned to look back up at the stars.  “Yeah, I miss her too.”

“It’s all my fault.”

“Jack, you can’t blame yourself for what happened. And (Y/n) would sure as hell wouldn’t want you thinking like that.”

“But I—”

“She wouldn’t have done what she did, if you weren’t worth saving. She’s had a rough life before we found her. Trust me.” Jack sniffled and wiped away his tears.

“It hurts so much Sam. My heart it—it’s like…..a werewolf had taken it, tore it apart slowly and then put it back in my chest with no way to fix it. Why? Why does it hurt so much?!” Jack gripped his chest as he lowered his head and sobbed.  Sam cautiously reached out and brought the young Nephilim to his chest, resting his head on top of his.

“I know what you mean Jack. Long ago when I thought I had finally gotten out of the hunter’s life, I found a girl I had fallen for. Jessica, oh she was a force of nature. And—I was gonna eventually ask her to marry me. Once I had finished law school and everything. But when I came back she—it tore me apart too. I went through the exact same heartache you’re going through now. It’s tough losing the woman you love.”

“I never—even got to tell her.” Jack whimpered.

“She knows. Believe me, women like her and Jess, they always know. And it’s also probably why she did what she did.”

“How do you do it Sam?” the two of them looked at each other as Jack whimpered brokenly as a few tears slipped down his face, “How do you continue to live when they’re gone?”

“One day at a time Jack. One day at a time.” Sam brought Jack’s head back over his heart and rocked the young man comfortingly as Sam let a few tears of his own slip out, also mourning for the loss of the young woman whom he called sister for so many years.

[theshynerdsworld]

THE MUSE part 1

Benedict Bridgerton x female oc

———

As Benedict sighed, sitting down “I’ll never find the perfect muse” he started to pack his art supplies away, when someone walked in “did I miss it?” Benedict looked up and blinked, he saw a women wearing a blue dress with embroidered flowers on the hem, it looked hand done, she must of been twenty “the art class? Yes.” Her shoulders shrunk as Benedict got up “you are a model?” She nodded “yes.. sorry I’m Mary Francis”, “Benedict Bridgerton.” He noticed, she bit her lip softly when George walked in “Mary!” He walked to her and hugged her “sorry I’m late.” He did a little smile “it’s fine, i was going to do a private session, if you was interested.” She nodded “the usual amount.”, “of course.” She whispered, taking his hand “I’ll probably see you again Mr. Bridgerton..”

For five days, Benedict only thought of Mary. When he drew, it was mainly sketches, rough sketches of a women. When Benedict went to his next class, he stopped when he saw her. Laughing with George, touching his around, while holding her robe closed ‘was she to be naked’ he thought, setting up and George walked to him “your infatuated, with her.” Benedict scoffed “no… well yes but she would not be interested in private sessions with me. She works with you.” He started to set up, George looked at her then Benedict, did a small hum “why the hum.” He questioned “she asked about you my last two sessions, if you had a muse. I said no. I didn’t mind it. I think you would both work well. Plus she does this for the money. She lives with grandparents and they aren’t the nicest. She’s saving up to leave, that’s all I can say.” George cleared his throat when two other models walked in “ok, disrobe when ready.” The two models were naked but Mary wore sort of a underdress, it was cream colour. For beginners, to draw.

Benedict drew Mary and couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, he noticed her eyes closed as he drew her. After about an hour, they all heard George call out “and models, you can change your pose” which they did, he still drew her, noticing a small mark on her right shoulder, that she exposed. After the lesson, the models got dressed and paid, as Mary walked out. She stopped, seeing Benedict’s sketches and looked closer when Benedict walked in and watched against the wall as she looked curiously “like what you see.” She jumped and turned around “I’m so sorry, lord Bridgerton” he pushed himself off of the wall.

“Oh it’s definitely fine.” He paused as he collected his art supplies, putting them in his bag “and it’s Mr. Bridgerton. My brother is lord.” She nodded “you’re the only I guess, amateur who drew me.” She raised her eyebrow “are you insulted by that.” She shook her head “no..” she said, innocently “good night, Mr. Bridgerton” she started to walk out “George said you asked about me, Miss Francis.” Mary stopped and turned around, looking embarrassed “you are, George’s muse, aren’t you?” She shook her head “no. He just paints me, cause he says and I quote, I am interesting. He has two already.” He nodded “I am, in need of a muse. I can pay well.”, “he also told me your situation.” Mary pulled at her sleeve “oh?” She said, nervously “do you look down on me? Because of it?” He shook his head “I find it…” he paused and walked to her “respectable.” She snorted alittle “that makes no sense.”, “or Miss Francis. Does it make sense.” She put her head to the side. “To say, who your family is. Your education is slipping.”

He laughed and smiled “funny. I would like to paint you.”, “me? Why?” He walked closer to her “you are… interesting.” He teased using George’s words then said “no. I am infatuated with you. I cannot think or draw anything, that isn’t you.” She bit her lip and looked at her “ok..” was all she said “tomorrow. Come here and there will be a carriage waiting for you.” Benedict paused and said “we can talk about the position tomorrow. Maybe paint. Also, it’s a trial run.” He touched her face lightly, Mary leaned into his hand softly, closing her eyes. He looked down at her and went to say something but George walked in, she immediately moved away from him “goodnight. George. Benedict.” She swiftly left and George looked at him “you won’t be sorry.”, “what was your payment to her?” George sat down and sighed “four pounds and ten shillings per hour. I was gonna pay her more but she was comfortable with this arrangement.” Benedict nodded at him “right.”, “she will be good for you bridgerton.”

Benedict also sat down and looked at George “tell me about. Like the basics.”, “she’s very shy. Doesn’t do nude poses. She has come out of her shell, the posing in her underdress, was new for her. First time, with the nude models. Go slow with her, bridgerton.” Benedict nodded, grabbing his stuff, standing up, said goodnight and left.

——

The entire day, Benedict made sure his studio was clean but also ready. Making sure, he had props and paints, along with brushes, water, paper and anything else he needed. He was setting up the sofa, placing pillows and blankets when he heard his house keeper, Ms. Ranger open the door and say, softly “you must be Mary.” There was a pause and then heard “well, come in from cold. Let me take your cloak.” He heard the two walk, slowly and a knock at the door “enter.” He said, looking up as Mary walked in “anything else you need, Mr. Bridgerton?” He shook his head “right, off I go home, hopefully Mr. Ranger hasn’t burnt the house down.” With that, she left.

Mary stood awkwardly at the entrance of the door “come in.” He said “don’t be shy, also close the door.” He sat down and patted the seat next to him, she slowly walked in and closed the door, walking over to him, slowly sitting down. They looked at each other “George has told me some things, of course. We can start with face portraits, and that way we can get to know each other.”, “I’d like that.” Benedict stood up and said “would you like a drink? I have beer, whiskey, lemonade.” Mary thought and replied “lemonade, would be lovely.”, “ice?” Benedict asked as he walked to the drinks trolley “um.. yes please.” She stood up and looked around at the art and books, he watched her as she examined a sketch “that’s me..” she whispered “yes. The day we met, I couldn’t get your face out of my head.” He walked to her as she put down the paper, then took the drink “thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.” She sipped it slowly “call me Benedict.” She nodded “as long as you call me Mary.” He nodded “agreed.”

She sat down on the sofa and he watched her, walking to his paper “stay like that.” Mary went to put down the drink “keep the drink where it is.” Mary’s pose was her sat up straight and her glass near her mouth, Benedict started sketching and asked “why model?”, “cause going to parties and looking for a husband isn’t my cup of tea.” He put his pencil down and looked at her confused “I’m sorry?”, “you don’t recognise me?” She raised her eyebrow, as he studied her features, her copper hair and green eyes. He realised “oh my. Mary Francis. Your grandparents come from money, from mines. Do they know you do this?”, “nope.” She popped her p at the end, staying in her position “they’d have a heart attack or stroke and die. Maybe it is to my benefit.” He did a tiny chuckle “you can relax now.” She got up and walked to him “may I see?” He nodded as she looked “you don’t like it?”, “I like it. George never really captured many details on me…” she whispered near the end.

“Why would it benefit you, if you grandparents die?”, “I’d be free.” She stated “eveything would go to my older brother, who has the business from our parents, I have been saving my inheritance, modelling is a job until I can figure out where to go or what I want to do.”, “mind if I smoke?” She shook her, as he held the cigarette then lit it. Benedict pulled up a seat so she could sit down as he drank “why do you need a muse, Benedict?” He looked at her as he drank and said “I have no inspiration. What makes it worse is, my sister found my sketches in the fire” he sighed, looking at his drink as Mary stood up and walked to the sofa, sitting down then put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, Benedict looked up and smiled then grabbed his pencil then started to sketch. “Can you look more bored?”, “sure.” She put on a bored face and slumped more “perfect.”, ‘just like you’ Benedict thought.

After a few hours, they had finish and were sat talking on the sofa, siping their drinks, that has been topped up for the seventh time “have you ever has whiskey?” She shook her head “would you like to try ?” She complimented and nodded “ok..” she handed him, her lemonade then took his glass, taking a small sip and gaged giving it back to him and coughed taking her glass, gulping her lemonade and looked at Benedict, who laughed so loud “that was disgusting” she complained and slapped his arm gently “shut up.” She pouted at him, as he stood up and walked to his closet and pulled out, a small envelope and walked back as he cleared his throat. “So we let us talk. Shall we?” She nodded slowly “I think we need a few more sessions to see if we click.”, “I agree, Benedict.” She agreed, playing with her hands. “Shall we say, tomorrow?”, “that soon?” She questioned “yes.”

Mary thought “ok sure.”, “what are you thinking?” He hand held hands in his, they were bigger then hers, this made Mary bite her lip “would there be conditions if I was your muse…” she whispered “yes, there will be.” He paused and said “you can pose in group sessions but only private for me. This will be awkward to say, if you ever pose nude. It will only for me, not on else but I won’t push that. To start with, I will pay you six pounds and fifty shillings” he stopped her as she went to protest “then after a month, it will go to ten pounds.” Her mouth opened and she blinked “I can’t accept that..”, “yes you can.” He patted her hands and said “you should be getting home.” She nodded “of course. I.. will see tomorrow…” he watched her walk out and walked to the window, waiting for her to get into the carriage.

(This is my first time, doing this here don’t judge 😞😞)

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 14: Flynn the Bittersweet

Summary: Introducing Gauche as Flynn, the Black Bird's butler with a soft center hidden by a prickly outside. Genre: general Word count: A/N: The art for Gauche was done by @cringeyvanillamilk

..........

[can kids live without adults?]. [leaving foster care early]. [can i adopt my sibling?].

Gauche opened link after link. He scanned each page to find an answer to his predicament. All the legal terminology and procedures made his head spin in confusion. Eventually, he gave up. Gauche stood up with a huff and stomped away from the computer he’d been using. Or he tried to before a hand on his shoulder made him pause.

“Be decent enough to push the chair in after you’ve used it,” Ms. Theresa Rapual, the CPS worker accompanying Gauche, said flatly. “You must respect the library and the other people who use it.”

Grunting, Gauche shrugged off Theresa’s hand and shoved the chair back under the desk. Then he grumpily made his way out of the Tech Rent Lab. Theresa followed after him without a word.

As he walked, Gauche flipped his phone open and stared at his wallpaper. The image depicted him sitting beside his mother and holding Marie, his then infant sister. Marie, both of them really, had been small, innocent, and safe at the time. Gauche shut his phone with a snap. He glanced over his shoulder at Theresa, who raised a brow at him, then hurriedly looked away.

“You look like you have something to ask.” For an old hag, she was sharp. “Well? Don’t just stand there.”

“Tch. You’re only paid to put up with me,” retorted Gauche. However, he couldn’t keep up his rigid grumpiness under Theresa’s strong gaze. “Is there still… something I can do for Marie?”

…..

“Kyaaa! Flynn, you’re looking sharp today!” a girl—high schooler based on her uniform—called out to him as he passed by a table.

“Tch.” Gauche stopped in his stride to jerk his head in the direction opposite. “You think I dressed nice for you? ‘S not like I care what you think…”

“He did the tsun-tsun!” another at the table laughed.

“It is what he’s known for,” the third girl of the group passively remarked.

“Hmph!” Gauche exaggerated his huff as he continued on his way. “Thank you for the compliment by the way!”

The table he came to was occupied by three women: a very short one with black hair up in a tight bun; a rose-haired woman who was beautiful enough to be a model; and a flustered lady with bright blue hair cut in a short bob.

“Madams, welcome to the Black Bird. I’m Flynn.” He lazily dropped the menus on the table. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not serving you for the fun of it.”

“I-I’m sorry if we’re a bother!” the blue-haired woman squeaked, making Gauche choke up.

“Uh—!” Gauche blinked a couple of times as he composed himself for a response. “Ah… Urk!” What’s wrong with me? “M-madam! D-don’t apologize!” His declaration made the woman startle and flush in the cutest manner. “I— er—! I-I’m actually happy to be serving you, okay?”

From all around him, Gauche heard the giggles and whispers of other customers as they ate up the unintentional show he’d put on. It made his face grow hot and looking at the woman again made the heat stronger. It was embarrassing, but Gauche didn’t mind. Because this was his job and… the customer was really cute.

…..

Sea Salt Foam. It was by far the most popular of the desserts as it was an ice cream float. It came with a small twist of the ice cream—chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, butterscotch, and caramel as flavor options—having extra salt added in.

From the start, Gauche pushed to make his persona’s menu item be a milkshake, as it was Marie's favorite dessert. Even if Gauche wasn’t able to see her in the present, he wanted that small connection to her. He imagined Marie sitting down to enjoy a milkshake, definitely the chocolate flavor and scrunching her nose at the salt in confusion.

Gauche had the same reaction. Desserts were meant to be only sweet in his mind. But then he sampled a prototype version of the dish and was struck by its deliciousness. The way sugar and salt blended on his tongue drew him in to eat more without overwhelming him with one flavor. It was meant to match his tsundere persona at the cafe, or so the dessert chef said.

In a way, though, it felt like a reverse of Gauche and Marie’s situation. The long periods of separation felt harder when contrasted against the short visitation days. A bit of sweetness against bitter loneliness made it easier to endure, as Gauche had the regular reminder of what he was working towards: permanently earning custody of his sister and being able to provide for the both of them.

Still, Gauche wished that his life didn’t have such a complex flavor.

[mariharem-trash-heap]

Talk Her Down

The inevitable seems to have finally happened: Marinette gets akumatized after a friend gets hurt in the crossfire between her and Lila - and it’s up to her friends and classmates to do what they can to calm her down before Ladybug can purify her akuma.

Notes:

I really, really love the trope of “this isn’t you, I know you’re in there, let me talk you down”. ESPECIALLY when it’s between friends. It’s just so (chef’s kiss)

Also yes, I’m well aware eastern and western dragons are largely different - I’m keeping mostly elements from eastern dragons because they’re super cool and underrated over here in the west.

(This will have hints at a Mariharem (but I couldn’t resist adding a lot more Lukanette because that ship still has my heart, sue me)

What began as a bright, sunny day had suddenly grown dark, sinister clouds rising to shun the sun and bathing the city of Paris in a thick gray curtain of dread.

Civilians looked on in horror from the relative safety of their homes at the giant red and black dragon weaving her way through the air, steam hissing from her nostrils, gleaming golden eyes narrowed in rage.

“LILA!” A thundering roar reverberated through the streets. Whoever remained outside had to clap their hands over their ears lest the painful ringing the sound caused actually did them damage as raindrops began to fall from the skies.

The softest tinkling of bells in the akuma’s wake was offset by another earsplitting roar, masking the panting of the two heroes trying to follow her.

“Man, who gave her control over the weather?” Chat Noir complained, eyes narrowed against the growing sprinkling of rain.

“I think it’s-- a culture thing?” Chanceux answered hesitantly, eyes darting back and forth as they vaulted another rooftop. His fingers were beginning to slip. “We need to change her back before all of Paris floods!”

Chat winced, troubling memories resurfacing. “Yeah,” he quietly murmured.

“Marinette!” Alya shouted from the roof of Le Grand Paris, squinting against the pounding rain.

The dragon whipped her head around, and glinting eyes settled squarely on the reporter, just a tiny, tiny figure on the roof below her.

“Mari, hey,” she continued, her tone dropping into a more soothing one. “Look, I know you’re upset - but you can’t let Hawkmoth get to you! You’re hurting people!”

“Hurting people?!” She exclaimed. “Lila has been the one hurting people for far too long! She needs to face the consequences of hurting my friends!”

Alya tried her best not to heave a frustrated sigh. “I know! I know, believe me, Marinette, I know. But what you’re doing - this isn’t you! The Marinette I know would never hurt so many innocent people like this!”

For a moment, she thought she saw something flicker by the akuma’s eyes - something troubled.

“Please,” she pleaded, reaching out to her friend. “Fight him, Marinette. You’re better than him.”

It seemed to have worked. And then that irritating glowing purple outline appeared before her face and she let loose another earth-shaking roar; and with a rush of wind so strong it nearly blew her off of the building, the akuma - Marinette - had gone.

Alya huffed, raising her phone to speak clearly into it, “Sorry guys, I tried. She’s beyond even listening to me.”

“Got it, babe,” Nino answered, before hanging up and slipping his phone back into his pocket. Turning around, he surveyed the members of Kitty Section... minus their guitarist.

“Where’s Luka?” Mylene wondered aloud, worry knitting her brow.

“He...” Juleka hesitated, but Rose’s comforting arm around her shoulders helped her finish, “...he wanted to try and talk her down. I told him it was a stupid idea, but he insisted.”

“If he can’t do it, we won’t be able to either,” Ivan admitted glumly.

Rose looked around the group in desperation. “But we’ve got to try something! That’s Marinette!” She cried, turning her pleading gaze on her girlfriend. “None of us liked to be akumatized, did we?”

An awkward air hung around as the rest of them either shook their heads or mumbled various “no”s and “not really”s.

“It’s not our faults we were akumatized,” the blonde reasoned. “I know I would’ve loved someone to help me fight off Hawkmoth’s butterfly.”

Juleka turned to her, a soft, solemnness to her eyes. “But would you have listened?”

Here, Rose opened her mouth to reply... then a few seconds later, shut it and slowly shook her head.

“We’ve still got to try something,” Ivan repeated, raising his drumstick. “For Marinette.”

“For Marinette,” Mylene echoed.

“For-”

“Marinette!” Nino exclaimed, finally spotting the serpentine akuma slither its way through the clouds.

It almost appeared she didn’t hear them, but finally she slowly turned to fix a hard stare on the group. Steam hissed again from her nose, as if in an annoyed snort. Something akin to frills - or spikes? - flared back and forth down her back, jet-black fading to white tips.

“Marinette!” Nino repeated, relief flooding his voice as he adjusted his glasses. “Oh, dude! We’ve been worried sick-- hey, where are you going?!”

She didn’t dignify him with an answer, turning back and returning to her course.

Nino watched her go, agape in shock.

“We tried,” Juleka heaved a sigh and patted his shoulder. “It’s up to the rest, now.”

“Luka...” she quietly wondered to herself, “... where are you? Please be safe...”

“Ugh, why am I here again?” Chloe huffed, turning her back on the group in the courtyard.

“Maybe if we use you as bait, we can keep her in one place for long enough that Chat Noir and Ladybug--” Alix hesitated, “--Chanceux can purify her.”

“That’s ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Do you want all of us to become fish food?” The blonde demanded. “Sabrina, we’re leaving.”

For once, the redheaded girl hesitated, watching Chloe begin to walk off.

Once she registered that no footsteps were echoing behind her, the rich girl paused, turning back with a raised brow. “Well? We don’t have all day, Sabrina - I’m already soaked enough as it is from all this stupid rain.”

All eyes fell to the girl, who shrank a little from the scrutiny. Alix and Kim looked to her in disdain, Chloe, expectant, and Max was still searching the clouds.

“I... no,” she murmured.

“What?” Chloe squinted, leaning in with a hand cupped to her ear. “I didn’t hear you. Speak up, will you?”

“I said no,” Sabrina stated forcefully, more forcefully than she meant to, judging by the surprise in her face. “I’m staying here. I...” she glanced to Max before looking her friend in the face, “I want to help Marinette too.”

It was silent for a second, save for the pounding rainstorm. Chloe was utterly aghast.

Then the blonde scoffed, whirling around and walking away. “Whatever, your loss. I’m going home where it’s warm and safe.”

“Wait, there she is!” Max suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the skies. The other students crowded around, watching a bright red line rushing through the clouds, cutting clean through the gray like a bullet.

“Marinette!” Kim bellowed as loud as he could. “We need you to stop!”

Unsurprisingly, she didn’t give a single indication that she’d heard.

Max paused, pondering something quietly to himself for several long seconds. When Chloe gave another dismissive scoff, he looked up, a newfound determination in his eyes. “I’ve got an idea; but first, who has Lila’s number?”

“Luka, where in the hell are you?” Juleka questioned.

“Nowhere you should go to in this weather,” he answered, balancing the phone between his cheek and shoulder as he got off the bike. Pulling off his helmet, he returned his phone to his hand and looked around. “Wait for me at the Liberty. I’ll be back as soon as I talk to her.”

“You’re crazy, you know that? She didn’t even listen to us.”

“She’s... so angry, right now,” he murmured, and a chord of pain struck his chest as he heard another angry roar ripple through the sky. “I’m hoping I can at least keep her for a minute - but if I’m lucky...”

“If you’re lucky, she’ll decide to spare you,” his sister huffed. After a second of silence on her end, she added, “The band is worrying about you. Hurry up and come home.”

Luka managed a chuckle at the warmth belied in her voice. “Will do.”

As he hung up the phone, he walked through the park until he finally came to the spot - and pulled out his guitar.

“Marinette!” He called, seeing her soaring above.

At the sound of his voice, the thunderous rain seemed to lessen in intensity for a moment - and so did the heat in her eyes as she turned to hover above the park.

Smiling up at her, he ran a hand through his drenched hair and pulled out a pick. “I know you’re angry right now... horribly angry... but I want you to hear something.”

Tilting her head slightly, she gave no indication she would take off.

Strumming a few chords, he began to play a song - one that he knew almost as well as his own, or his sister’s, or his mother’s. As he looked up at her, he could see her golden eyes closing, an echo of the day they met.

“Is it working?” He questioned, sparing a glance up at her hovering form. “Can I finally... be the one to calm her anger, just as she tried to bring me back all that time ago?”

The next time he looked up at her, his hopeful smile fell into a despairing gape as a familiar purple mask faded before her eyes, and they reopened - full of pain and anger.

“Marinette--!” he began, but his guitar slipped from his hands as giant, gleaming talons wrapped about him, tight enough so that he couldn’t wiggle free.

“Marinette!” Another voice yelled, and the akuma turned with a growl at the people leaping into the park.

Chat Noir and Chanceux led the charge, a group of teenagers following close behind. With them was a familiar person wrapped up like a package, angry and glaring - until she saw the akuma.

Lila squeaked, struggling against the rope. “When you said you were going to get help, this is NOT what I--”

“LILA!” The akuma’s roar dizzied them for a few moments, and the rain began to pelt them like hail.

“Marinette, stop!” Chanceux exclaimed, darting in front of the girl as the dragon dropped Luka only a foot to the ground in anticipation of grabbing her instead. “This is what you wanted, right? You wanted Lila? Why?”

“Because she hurt Marc!” The dragon snarled, eyes flashing in fury at the memory. “She ruined his comic because he stood up for me!”

“Mari, Marc is okay,” the red-and-black-spotted hero tried to soothe, raising his hands placatingly. “So what if Lila ruined ou-- his comic? He’s already planning on making a better one!”

Marc chose that moment to hobble over from the crowd, trying to smile up at the serpent with tearstained cheeks.

“Marc...” The akuma murmured, all heat gone from her voice. “Your eyeliner is running.”

“Oh, is it?” His smile dropped, and he swiped at his eye with his thumb. Sure enough, a smudge of black stained it. “Well, that’s no big deal, is it? I’m more worried about you.”

“We all need you to shake off Hawkmoth,” Alya pleaded next. “We’re here to help. You would’ve done the same for us. It’s only fair we do the same thing for you.”

“We love you, Marinette,” Rose implored. “Please.”

The akumatized girl looked back and forth between her friends, brow knit in indecision.

Suddenly Hawkmoth’s voice snarled in her ears. “What are you doing, Huangdi?! You need to take the Miraculous!”

Clenching her eyes shut in pain, she screamed as a wave of agony flooded over her through the mindlink.

“He’s hurting her!” Ivan exclaimed.

“Quick, Chanceux,” Chat said, catching the hero’s attention, “where is the akumatized item? Do you see it?”

Scanning the creature, the hero’s brow knit together in confusion - until he saw it.

“The tail,” he stated. “The object is wrapped around the tail.”

Chat looked, and indeed, it was a beaded object tightly strung around it. His throat constricted, and his heart began to race - he recognized it.

“Do we have to break it to get the butterfly?” He questioned aloud.

“I hope we don’t,” the ladybug hero answered softly. “How can we talk her down with Hawkmoth abusing the mindlink?”

A cry from the dragon interrupted their little talk, and the two looked back to see the dragon land with a thud on the ground, her magnificent length spreading across the entirety of the park as she tried to cover her ears with her talons.

“Marinette!” Alya cried in alarm, rushing over to her.

“Please, please make it stop,” Huangdi begged, tears filling her eyes.

The group froze in fear.

Then, Rose spoke up. “Group hug!”

Determinedly marching over, she reached out and wrapped her arms around one of the dragon’s, holding it to her chest as tight as she could.

“Rose...?!” Juleka questioned.

“Go away, Hawkmoth!” Rose yelled as if she hadn’t heard her. “You big meanie! Leave Marinette alone!”

Bewildered, a few of the group exchanged glances.

Shrugging, Alix and Kim walked over with confident faces and joined Rose in hugging Huangdi’s arm and shouting at the villain.

“You stink, Hawkmoth,” Kim scoffed. “Hurting our friend like this? If you were here I’d punch you right in the face!”

“Not before me you wouldn’t!” Alix retorted, squeezing the scaled appendage as tight as she could.

“What... are they doing...?” Chat breathed as more and more made their way towards the dragon.

“I... I think they’re bullying Hawkmoth,” Chanceux let out a tiny little hysterical laugh. With an incredulous smile, he shrugged and made his way over to their hostage.

“You suck, Hawkmoth!” Nino joined in, pressing himself against their friend’s side. “C’mon, Marinette, you can totally kick him out!”

“Do it for me!” Alya added, trying her best to hug her as she planted herself firmly at her throat. “Come on, Marinette, you can do it. I know you can show this bully who’s boss.”

“Go away, Hawkmoth!” Sabrina yelled in unison with Rose.

Huangdi’s eyes continued to water, and large tears spilled over the sides of her cheeks and splattered to the ground with the rain.

Luka had long since picked himself up and pressed a hand against her scaled jaw. When she looked down at him, he gave her a reassuring smile.

“You can do this, Marinette,” he encouraged. “Where’s the amazing girl that stood up to XY for us?”

“I...” The dragon sniffled a little.

Slowly, her voice began to change from its guttural timbre to something softer.

“Hey, it’s working!” Mylene exclaimed in relief. “Come on, Marinette...!”

Slowly, the dragon began to flicker - and with a bright light and a sharp scream, she disappeared, leaving a shivering, sobbing Marinette in her wake. Her classmates fell to the ground abruptly, letting out exclamations of surprise, and Chanceux was quick to dart away from Lila and towards the dark-purple butterfly trying to flutter away.

“Gotcha!” He exclaimed with pride as it disappeared into the yo-yo. “Your evil comes to an end, akuma!”

Throwing the yo-yo into the air, he followed it with “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Almost immediately a bright light pierced the sky, and a swarm of ladybugs chased it as it shooed away the dreary blanket. Slowly, the bright blue sky came back into view as the rain came to an end. Rainbows danced about as the last of the rain shimmered in the sun’s cheerful rays.

Alya was the first to get to her. “Marinette, are you okay?”

Nodding wordlessly, she collapsed into her best friend’s arms, still crying - and one by one, the rest of them joined the group hug. Luka glanced towards Chat and Chanceux, gesturing towards the pile with expectant eyes.

The ladybug hero sighed, smiling in relief as he joined in. Chat hesitated, but Nino caught his eye and pointed at Marinette. He gave in and hugged around Alya and Luka.

“I’m... I’m so sorry,” Marinette whimpered, trying to wipe away her tears. “I was just... so upset and hurt that I lost it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Marc spoke up firmly, brushing away his own tears and squeezing her arm. “Like Chanceux said, I can always make an even better one.”

“Um, hello?” Lila groused. “Right here...”

“Oh, right,” Chat remembered with a glower, turning to the Italian girl. “As for little miss troublemaker, I want you out of the class effective immediately.”

“Wh- what?” It wasn’t just Lila, but Marinette who answered. The group stared at her even as she spluttered, “Chat, are you sure--?”

“She has caused too much harm in the classroom, Mari,” he stated, his usual banter traded for a serious tone that demanded she listen. “Not just to you - now she’s involved someone from another class, and it’s not just Bustier’s problem to deal with anymore.”

“He’s right,” Juleka added. “Nathanael and Marc are my friends. I can’t just sit and watch her start bullying Marc.”

“Th- that wasn’t-- I was just--” The brunette stammered.

“You tore up something precious to him,” Chanceux suddenly spoke up, voice flickering with anger as he stared her down. “That’s something Chloe would do, sure - but you? After everything we did to try and be nice to you?”

“It’s bullying,” Chat emphasized, folding his arms across his chest. “Marinette, I know you don’t want to make things harder, but I don’t feel comfortable having another bully in the classroom after everything else that’s happened this year.”

There was a heavy few seconds of silence from the group.

Finally, Marinette swallowed. She nodded her head and admitted, “... I’m not going to argue with you. In fact, I agree. I don’t want to have to deal with that anymore. It was enough being the only one having to keep quiet - but I am not going to stand around and watch my friends get the same treatment.”

Alya pulled away with a concerned frown. “So it was true, then? She lied?”

“She lied about the connection with Dargaud,” Marc confirmed. “I assume she’s lied about other things as well, but that one affects Nath and I.”

“I can’t believe this.” The reporter shot her a disappointed stare. “I was so set to publish that interview with you, too. That would’ve gotten me so much hate if people actually contacted them and asked about you, you know? I can’t believe I didn’t even see it earlier; you don’t even like comics.”

“I- I do,” Lila defended. “I read a ton of webcomics all the time!”

“You didn’t even know the name of the studio you were promising a gig with,” Chanceux pointed out with narrowed eyes.

“Do I have to know the names of every single last place I work with, now?” She questioned, exasperated and upset. “I mean come on, not even Gabriel Agreste himself would know like half the models and agencies he collaborates with. Excuse me for having a bad memory.”

Rose shifted from foot to foot. “This one was a lie, but... surely she can’t have lied about everything, right? Who just does that?”

Marinette turned to give Chat a flat look over Alya’s head. He nodded in response.

“Chanceux, why don’t we let her loose,” he said to the hero standing near her.

Pursing his lips, the redheaded boy thought for a moment. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. Might as well; the only thing she did was serve as bait for the akuma.”

Pulling at the end of the bow, the rest of the rope sagged free, and so did Lila. She got up, rubbing her sore arms, and glared at the group.

“Now I’m wet, muddy, and have ropeburn,” she complained with a heavy sigh. “Mama is going to have a fit when she sees how dirty my clothes got...”

As she ran off, the heroes returned their attention to the pile.

“Thanks, guys, I’m feeling a lot better now.” With another sniffle, Marinette smiled weakly at her friends. “I feel so ashamed for giving in...”

“Believe me, I was really close,” Marc commented with a light laugh. “If you hadn’t jumped in front of me and took the butterfly when you did...”

“You continue to be an Everyday Ladybug,” Chat praised with a soft smile. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Marinette. I’m just glad we were able to snap you out of it.”

Extending his hand, he added, “Why don’t I take you home? I’m sure your parents are worried sick.”

“Better idea, why don’t we have a sleepover tonight?” Alya asked, glancing around at the girls. “That way, we can keep an eye out for any more nasty butterflies.”

“I’m down.” Alix nodded. “I’ll ask my dad.”

“Sounds like fun!” Rose cheered, Juleka nodding in agreement.

“I’ll ask my dad,” Mylene said, folding her hands together.

“It’s settled.” Alya smiled triumphantly, squeezing Marinette’s shoulder. “We’re all here for you, Marinette. Just say the word and we’ll help you beat away Hawkmoth’s akumas with a superpowered stick if we have to!”

“You don’t have to,” laughed the girl as she wiped her last tear away and took Chat’s hand. “But thank you. Really, thank you. I’m glad to have you all as my friends.”

“No,” said the ladybug hero, his eyes growing soft at the pigtailed girl, “thank you for being ours.”