#but I’m going to shut up cause my thoughts are getting all jumbled

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Mine - JJ Maybank One Shot

+18 Minor DNI Fluff & Angst

JJ x KookExGirlfriend!Reader

⭐️ republished ⭐️

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 warnings: language, name calling, child birth and it’s side effects.

📖 JJ’s ex is pregnant and the baby is his 💕

5k

Reader’s POV:

JJ has come by every day since the breakup, never at the same time. His beautiful blue eyes still find a way to catch mine. I iced him out completely, ghosting him only a few weeks after we made it official.

We had been pining after each other for years, rushing into everything when we finally got what we both wanted. We never once thought about playing it safe, fucking raw in the back of his Bronco that night, and every chance we got after that. We couldn’t get enough of each other… Every time we were alone, our hands were on each other, clothes thrown across the room, tangled up in sheets.

“Fuck that,” was the last thing I heard him mumble to John B before he and his friends disappeared for weeks. They talked about hooking up, girlfriends, and how the last thing they want to deal with is a pregnant one after John B. and Sarah had a scare of their own. ‘We’re too young. They’re too expensive. I’m not ready for that shit. Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? There’s no way in hell’.

And here I stand.

Nine months and five days along, hiding it from him because, at this point, I’d instead go at it alone. I didn’t know where he went, and when he came back, something had happened. I could tell something was going on with him and Kiara. The longer I was away, the closer they got. He seemed happier with her. I can do this myself… even though I don’t want that. Not at all.

He still calls me from time to time. Usually late at night when I’m already asleep. JJ doesn’t always leave a message, but when he does, it’s a jumbled mess of drunken words.

I’ve shut out all my friends. The only people that know are my parents and the little old lady next door. They think it’s some random tourists. My parents kicked me out on my ass after I decided to keep the baby. 'You think you’re so grown? You think you can handle this pinching pennies? What kind of life is that?’ They gave me up that day. 'If you want to act like trash, you can live like trash.’

But who’s the actual trash here?

As much as I wanted to return to my simple life, I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t bring myself to get the abortion they were more than willing to pay for. I went from a Kook to a Pogue in a matter of seconds. And, at my twenty-week appointment, when I saw that little boy in my tummy, I knew I made the right choice.

I snagged an office job pretty fast: a beautiful spot, a real-estate agency close to the beach. The clientele is great, Pogues with just enough money to hire someone to sell their little shacks instead of doing it themselves. Work, community college, sleep, rinse, and repeat. I’ve saved enough to buy a crib and some basics… Stopping by the thrift store just off Figure 8 to nab some Kook’s hand-me-downs. I want to give this little boy the life he deserves… I want to prove my parents wrong.

I’m sure they’ll have a change of heart after the baby is born, rushing to plunge that silver spoon straight into his mouth and 'save him from all this.’ But, come to find out, this life saved me. An existence under their thumb is not where I wanted to be. I don’t want to raise a Kook. I want to raise a Pogue. I just wish I knew what I was doing. I really wish I had Jayj.

You look out the large front window, watching as he passes by, surfboard looped under his arm as he steps toward beach access. His eyes drift your way, turning ahead before he disappears again. Shit. You look down at your stomach, watching the baby turn, your round tummy rolling with the baby’s movements.

Like clockwork, you’re hit with a braxton hicks contraction. Your belly squeezes taunt, breathing strained, causing you to draw little breaths, blowing them slow. You look up at the wall, watching the clock strike 5. Yes. Grabbing the armrest, you struggle to stand, pressing yourself up. You waddle toward the door, turning the open sign to close before nabbing your keys.

The warm summer air kisses your skin as you pass through the door; the sunset paints the sky in the west. Fuck. Your stomach contracts again, a contraction so intense you have to grab the brick wall for support, eyes screwing shut as you breathe through it again. “Hey…” Your heart sinks, eyes flashing open as you meet JJ’s wide gaze.

“Hi,” you force the word through tight lips, still clutching the wall.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently. JJ’s stare falls down your body, landing on your bump, your hand cradling the bottom out of sheer practice.

“M'fine,” you whimper as you turn quickly, clipping toward your shitty little car before he can ask anymore, tears brimming in your eyes.

JJ’s POV:

I watch her car slow-roll over the speed bump, steering through the parking lot into her tiny carport. My muscles are tense; emotion pooled in my eyes as I watch her battle to get out of her car. I know she’s pregnant. I didn’t ask. It was the first thing I wanted to blurt out. Even though my dad’s a grade-A asshole, he still taught me that shit ain’t polite. I just didn’t think she would disappear that fast. She grabs the handrail, heading up the steps, pulling open the apartment door before falling out of sight.

Everything was fine until I left… And, when I came back, she was gone. She fuckin’ vanished, dropping me for no one, from what I’ve seen, at least. She’s shut herself in completely, never coming out.

I couldn’t help but check on her every chance I got. Make sure she’s okay. I should have known something was off. Her family’s loaded. There’s no reason that Kook Princess should be hanging out around here. She should be off at some fancy-ass college, living the dream. The second I saw her in that office, red flags should have been waving left and right, but they didn’t.

She didn’t want to talk. I could tell… The look in her eye was enough to let me know to stay the hell away. That, paired with the fact that she never called me back. Most of the time I wasted… I can’t lie. It was probably for the best. But she saw my number and chose to ignore it; decided to leave it unanswered. Somethin’s goin’ on… Maybe she’s gotta new boyfriend. There’s no reason why she’d be here otherwise… Unless there’s more to the story. 

Maybe all this is 'cause I told her I loved her. I don’t know, but that’s the last thing I said before I left. And I still feel it. I still love that woman. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Maybe she was ready, and I left, and she started to second guess everything. I mean, how could she not? I vanished, then she did… Can I really fault her for doing the same exact shit?

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

My body jumps, chills running down my spine as headlights flood my rearview mirror. Goddamnit. I’ve gotta make a decision, in or out; am I gonna do this or not? I stomp on the gas, speeding ahead, barreling away as my tears break free.

She was a good girl before she met me. I wasn’t a virgin, but she was. She gave that to me. I don’t think she was sleeping around with anyone else.

That baby’s mine. I know it.

Reader’s POV:

DING.

You drag your body over to the microwave, snagging your TV dinner. The apartment is quiet, just the lull of the evening news playing in the background. Plopping down on the weathered couch, you snag the remote, flicking through the channels aimlessly until you find your comfort show, snuggling in a little more as you swirl your spaghetti on your fork.  

Grabbing the remote, you turn it a little louder, trying your best to drown out the thoughts raging in your head. The interaction with Jayj, the horror in his eyes, the way you left, fleeing the scene altogether. I miss him. Every part of him. God, he is so fucking beautiful. Those goddamn eyes, and that perfect face, his voice. I - DRIP. DRIP.

You look between your thighs, a wet spot gathering on your sweatpants, dribbling onto the floor below. You pinch the bridge of your nose, expiring a frustrated breath. As if this day wasn’t mortifying enough, let me add pisses your pants to the list… You close your eyes softly as a tinge of nausea sets in as well.

Maybe if I take a shower, I’ll feel better… You rise to your feet, liquid continuing to trickle its way down your leg.

Shit…

Is this it? It wouldn’t be far-fetched. I’m past my due date. Did my water just break? You feel your bottom lip wobble, muscles stiffening as you face reality that that might be the case.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Fuck. You look down at your soaked pants. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

“One sec, Dot,” you call out for your neighbor.

“Umm… Hey. I-It’s JJ,” you hear his muffled voice behind the closed door. Everything stops; your body, frozen as you watch him through the little kitchen window, just a crack of sight through your curtain. No. You shuffle toward the bathroom, clutching your stomach, a new sensation of emptiness you hadn’t felt before.

“Ow… Ow… Oh my god,” you gasp, holding the bottom of your stomach. “It’s fucking happening… No. Fuck!” You scream, another contraction rocking you. The soft knocking turns into a loud bang. “Let me in, y/n. P-Please. Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You grip the doorframe tightly, trying to center yourself, to no avail. The room starts to spin around you, stomach churning, mouth salivating. Am I going to throw up? Why am I gonna throw up? You trip slightly on the rug, falling to your knees, crawling the rest of the way toward the toilet.

“Y/n?” JJ yells as he frantically fiddles with the doorknob, knocking at the glass trying to open that as well.

“Ja-” You go to answer, letting out a cough instead, emptying your stomach into the bowl. Then you hear it: metal on metal as the doorknob twists.

“Y/n?” JJ stutters, his boots bounding toward the bathroom. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Yeah,” you cry as you see a look of sheer panic in his eyes. “Why are you here?” You whisper.

“I-I… Umm… I don’t know?” He spurts as he moves a little closer. “Do you want me to c-call your parents?”

“No!” You shout. “Don’t. Please. I don’t want them here,” you yell. JJ’s eyes open wider.

“I’m sorry…”

“No, Jayj. Don’t apologize.”

He kneels close, rubbing your back softly. “Did you need me to clean up out there for you? Do you want me to get you a new pair of pants? Or maybe a glass of water? A rag? You want a rag? Yeah?” You throw up in the toilet again, causing JJ to release a sympathetic gag.

“Jayj… you can’t do that,” you groan.

“I’m sorry. M'sorry, y/n,” he sighs, trying to compose himself. “Here.” He grabs a scrunchie off the counter, gathering your hair in a ponytail.

“Thank you.” You grip the toilet tightly, trying your best to calm down, but it’s simply momentary. “Fuck,” you howl, your pain wrapping around your back to your front.

“Y/n, s-shit,” JJ whimpers, dropping his head in his hand. His own personal panic setting in. “Are you - fuck,” JJ tries to speak, but the words aren’t easy. “Are you pregnant?”

“Is that not clear, Jayj,” you cry. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I have to go to the bathroom, JJ!” You scream, voice bouncing off the walls as you feel pressure building between your thighs.

“O-Okay. Of course. Do you need help standing?”

“Will you get me a bucket first?” JJ nods at you rapidly. You let out a loud cry, whole body pain, indescribable hurt. “Fuck!” You scream.

“Should I call 9-1-1?”

“The bucket, JJ. Please!”

“Okay. Alright. Sorry. S-Sorry!” he panics, running out of the bathroom. You hear him bang around in the kitchen, talking himself into a frenzy.

“Grab anything, JJ! Please!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Jesus Christ. It’s fucking hot in here.” You rip off your shirt, tossing it to the side.

“This! Okay… This will work,” he cheers breathlessly, running back into the bathroom with a pot. You quickly tug your pants down, taking a seat on the toilet. You draw the pot under your chin, breathing deeply.

“Fuck… this feels so much better.” You moan, feeling slight relief in this new position. A new heat rises in your cheeks, humiliation brewing as you feel the weight of JJ’s gaze on you. The last night he saw me, I was in a paisley sundress, his arms around me, lips locked on mine. I felt beautiful. JJ always made me feel that way. He told me he loved me. That girl. Not this one. I can’t believe he’s seeing me this way: tummy round, naked, sweaty, sick, and in pain. All I can do is cry.

JJ walks over, kneeling before you as his beautiful blue eyes search for yours. “Y/n, we gotta get you to the hospital. Okay?” His voice is gentle and calm. JJ tucks some sweaty strands of hair behind your ear as you match his watch. You can see his eyes getting glassy; he’s also completely and utterly overwhelmed, still trying to stay calm for you.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mewl.

“Hey, s'okay. You’re gonna be alright. We just gotta go, baby.”

Baby. The guilt hits you next, hard and fast. How would I feel if roles were reserved? How would I feel if this secret was kept from me?

“JJ… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

JJ swallows thickly; the tears pooled in his beautiful blue eyes break free as he looks back at you. “The baby’s mine?” He fights the words past his lips.“This is amazing… I just - I. Fuck. It’s okay, honey. But, why - Why wouldn’t you just tell me, y/n?" He whispers, his voice hoarse and broken with emotion.

"I didn’t want to ruin your life, Jayj. We had just started dating-”

“Ruin my life? Why would this ruin my life?” He cuts you off in disbelief. Your muscles tighten, a sharp pain radiating as you try to remain in the moment with him. You can see his face change with yours, seeing the pain in your eyes. “Let’s go. Let’s get you to the hospital,” he whispers as he rests one hand on your cheek, the other set lightly on your tummy.

“I can’t move, J,” you whimper.

“I can carry you. Okay? The hospital is only five minutes away. I can get you there in three. Fanciest driver in The Cut. You know that. Yeah? We’ll be there in a heartbeat. Everything’ll be fine. We’re okay. Okay?” He sniffles, lifting the neck of his white tee shirt to wipe the emotion out of his eyes. “Let me get you some clothes, sweetheart.” You nod in reply, gripping the counter tightly as you battle through the pain of another contraction.

JJ races back into the bathroom as fast as he came out, handling you carefully as he tugs on your oversized t-shirt and shorts. He guides you to your feet, helping you into your Converse sneakers, tying them tight before lifting you into his arms. You clutch onto him as you ride out another contraction, burying yourself in the crook of his neck. Your tears wet his shirt as he walks with you toward the door, stepping out into the night. “You’re okay, baby. You’re alright," he soothes, kissing you gently on the temple.

JJ tugs open the door of the Bronco, setting you inside before sprinting around the front. JJ flicks the keys, making the engine roar. He throws it in reverse, peeling out of the parking lot before skirting onto the main street, making you clutch the grab rails for support. "Shit. Sorry, princess,” JJ winces as he sees the fright in your eyes. He thrusts his hand into his pocket, thumbing through his cell phone as he dodges through traffic.

You can see the tears still sparkling in his stare; JJ’s jaw coiled tight as he listens to the ringing on the other end of the line. He’s terrified, just like you, his phone trembling in his hand. “Hi. Uhh… Shit. My girlfriend and I are on our way in. She - she’s…”

“In labor,” you whisper, helping him along.

“She’s in labor. We’re about two minutes away. Uh… Umm, let me ask,” he breathes, eyes snapping your way. “How far apart are they? Have you been timing them?”

“Timing what?” You ask sheepishly, watching as JJ’s eyes lighten on yours.

“Your contractions, baby.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper, cheeks hot with shame again, your ignorance on display. He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I should know this. Why don’t I know this?“

"S'okay," he whispers. JJ looks down at the dash, eyeing the little clock.

"Fuck, Jayj,” you sob, the pressure of another contraction setting in.

“Shit. Sorry - sorry, I’m here. Umm… Like four minutes tops? Yeah. Mhmm… She’s close,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat. “Yeah. Yeah - The front. We’ll meet you out there.” You try your best to keep your eyes open, vision blurry as you see the hospital sign glowing like a beacon in the night. JJ stuffs his phone back in his pocket, reaching for your hand instantly, weaving his finger in yours before drawing them up to his lips. He kisses your hand, lingering on your skin, hiding his quivering lips.

“Motherfucker!” You scream, driving your heels into the floor of the SUV; yet another contraction barrelling through your body as you pull up to the curb. JJ grits his teeth as you squeeze his hand tight, surely drawing blood.

JJ’s POV:

“Take a deep breath for me, y/n,” the nurse aids. Y/n’s eyes slam shut, her beautiful face scrunching in discomfort as the nurse checks her further. “Okay… 10 centimeters,” she says calmly. “I see some hair.” Y/n’s eyes remain shut in fear as she nods her head frantically. Her little hand squeezes mine again; the only relief she can get this far along. I can’t believe she almost did this alone - all by herself. What if she couldn’t have made it to the phone? 

Why can’t she call her parents? Why is she alone in the first place? Why wouldn’t she just tell me? I feel my thoughts start to race with the beating of my heart. “Y/n,” I whisper. Her gaze matches mine, sending me into a spiral as I see the speckles of red against the whites of her eyes, popped blood vessels, and tears pooled in the corners. Heat rises behind my eyes again as I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re doing so good, y/n.”

“M'not,” she hiccups, hand clutching her little bucket as she waits for her tummy to turn again. “I let you down, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m scared. M'not fucking ready-”

“Y-You’re ready,” I stammer; the stutter in my voice deceives me, but I mean every word. “You didn’t let me down. I went into your room, y/n. I saw the crib, all the clothes you have hung in your closet, the baby book with all the Post-it notes sticking out. You’re ready. 'Course you’re scared…” My voice fades to a hush as she tucks herself in my neck. I’m instantly struck with Deja Vu, thrown back into the night that changed everything. The last night she was mine… I clear my throat, beating my lashes shut.

“The baby’s a boy, Jayj,” she whispers gently.

“Yeah?” I ask happily as I choke back tears, feeling her nod against my shoulder.

“M'sorry, Jayj. I-” Y/n fleeting words turn into a wail, nails digging into my forearm.

“Please don’t apologize, y/n,” I soothe, kissing her head. “You’re so strong, baby girl,” I whisper in her ear, feeling her muscles contract.

“We’re going to need you to start pushing, y/n.”

“I can’t,” she whimpers.

“You can, baby. You can.”

“You know how you feel like you need to go to the bathroom? Push like that. Okay?” Y/n shakes her head no.

“You’ve got to, baby. A'ight? You’re amazing, y/n,” I breathe, moving closer. She presses her forehead against mine, gritting her teeth. “You’re safe. Okay? You’re safe.” Y/n presses her quivering lips against mine, taking my breath away. Those lips… Holy shit. My hand wraps around the back of her neck, drawing her even closer. “I missed you," I whisper shakily. 

"I missed you too, JJ,” she echoes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj,” she whimpers.

“M'not goin’ anywhere. M'not leavin’ you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sobs.

“Y/n?” The nurse calls. “What’s your pain level when you have a contraction?”

“10,” she soughs.

“You’re going to have a contraction in a few seconds. We’re going to need you to push hard. When you feel it coming on, take some deep breaths. When you hit 10, push. Okay? JJ, we will need you to count to ten for her. Y/n, we want you to push all 10 seconds.” I can see the shift in her face; her pain, increasing. Her grip on my hand gets tighter. Y/n’s eyes shift to mine, giving me a nod.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

“F-Fuck!” She screams, her eyes slam shut as her body trembles in pain. “S'not working,” she snivels.

“It’s working. You’re doing a great job. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor assures. “This next one might be it, but you’ll have to push really hard.”

“Did you hear that, baby?” I breathe, my lips resting on her forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“You’re doing a great job, Y/n,” the nurse whispers. Y/n’s eyes flutter shut, wincing in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t believe a word of it.

“10… 9… 8… 7… 6…”

“Ow… Ow… No. It burns,” she wails. The words catch my throat as I push back tears.

“We have him. Keep pushing.”

“5… 4… 3… 2… 1…”

She lets out a guttural scream; the doctor catches a baby, drawing him out. “Oh my god,” I breathe.

“Oh… H-Holy shit,” she whimpers. “Is the baby okay? Is he breathing?” I hear the baby’s high-pitched cry. A wave of relief crashes over me. Y/n dissolves in my arms as we look out for our little boy. 

This was the last thing I expected, the furthest thing from my mind when I woke up this morning. But, now, here I am. Here he is. Here she is, my beautiful fucking girl. We made him… He’s ours.

“I’m so glad you came, Jayj,” she cries.

“Me too, baby. Holy shit.” I grab a towel from the nurse, blotting the tears and sweat from Y/n’s face. “You did so well, y/n. Fuck. You okay, honey?” I mumble before meeting her lips.

“M'okay." God, I can’t stop. I kiss her deeper, making y/n smile against my lips. "I missed you,” she whispers.

“I missed you. Fuck, I missed you so damn much,” I sigh.

“You’re going to be such a good dad-”

“You’re going to be such a good mom. The best mom. The baby’s so lucky to have you as a mom,” I babble, kissing her forehead and cupping her dewy cheek. I hold y/n tightly, watching the nurse cradle the baby in her arms. She sets him on the towel, cutting and clamping the umbilical cord.

She walks over, resting the baby on Y/n’s chest, and in that moment, I feel a shift. Everything seems a little clearer: her, him, and they’re both mine. My heart feels like it could fucking burst as I look at him in her arms. He’s so tiny, so small and fragile. I just want to keep him safe.

Y/n’s lips rest on his tiny head, a pink and blue striped bonnet covering a mess of blonde hair, just like mine. “Jayj,” she whispers, extending him to me. I draw the baby close, blinking, my tears gone. He’s so peaceful; his eyes shut tight. I can feel the warmth of his little breaths against my skin.

“Wow,” I sigh, looking up at the ceiling as tears fall. Y/n rests her head on my shoulder. We’re okay. Everything’s okay.

“You look beautiful,” I breathe.

“You’re a liar, JJ Maybank.” Her nose scrunches, eyes rolling away. Fuck. I missed her.

“I’m not. I promise.”

“You’re never going to want to have sex with me again,” she chuckles through a sigh, hands resting on her once-rounded tummy. 

“You jokin’?” I scoff. “Been dreamin’ about that for the last, what, nine months now? S'the first thing we’re gonna do when we get outta here.” Y/n chuckles as she raises an eyebrow, making me double back.

“6 weeks, Jayj,” she whispers as her flushed cheeks blush even more.

“No…” I gasps. “You sure? I thought you said you didn’t know what you were doin’, princess. Gonna need to fact-check that shit.” I give her a taunting look, making her roll her. “M'just kiddin’, sweetness.” Taking out my phone, I flick to the calendar, checking the dates. “The 24th, baby girl.” Y/n lets out a sleepy little laugh, tucking herself in my arms again.

“Babysitter?”

“Mhmm… Whoever you want,” I soothe.

“Sarah and Pope.”

“Ah, Cameron and Heyward. Couldn’t agree more, baby.” She snuggles in a little closer, her eyes on the little bassinet, watching the baby sleep. “So…” I sigh as I take a deep breath.

“You wanna know why I’m officially a Pogue, Jayj?” She asks weakly.

“Yeah… I’ve got a few questions, princess. That’s a good start,” I mumble, resting my lips against her temple. She takes a deep breath, expelling a laborious sigh.

“Umm… Well, my parents didn’t want me to have the baby-”

“Stop,” you whisper, shaking your head 'no.’ “I think I know where you’re goin’ with this, and I can’t hear it. Alright? I don’t want you to say it either. Please.” Y/n bites her cheek. “I’m so fucking sorry - m'so, so sorry.” I cup her cheek, kissing her lips. “You got me… You got all my friends - you’re friends. This baby will be so loved, y/n. I swear.”

“Okay, Jayj.”

“Thank you for not doin’ that, baby. I just - I can’t even imagine that now,” I breathe, feeling my throat tighten as I watch his little chest rise and fall.

“It was never an option, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Why didn’t you tell me, y/n? Why did you think it would ruin my life? Why did you break up with me-”

“JJ,” she breathes as she rests her hand on my chest, grounding me again. “That was a huge fucking mistake. I’m so sorry. We had just started dating, and then you left. And, right before you left-”

“I was talking to John B about what a nightmare this shit would be…” I cut her short, dropping my head, nodding as I put the pieces together.

“When you came back, Jayj, I didn’t know what to do. And, I saw you with Kie, and you looked like the two of you had somethin’ goin’ on. Between that and my parents, I felt it would be easier for everyone if I went at it alone.”

“Kie is just a friend. Alright? She always has been. And life isn’t easy, y/n,” I whisper. “You know that just as well as me. Doesn’t mean that the hard isn’t worth going through. I swear I will be here for you both if you’ll let me.”

“Really?” Y/n asks shakily.

“Please, y/n.”

“I need you, J. I want you in my life,” she whispers, an unease in her tone like you may say anything but the apparent 'yes.’

“I need you too, princess.”

“I wasn’t lying to you, Jayj. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she warns. “I have read books, sure, but if today showed me anything, it let me know I’m not fucking ready.”

“S'not true, honey. I’ve seen you with him already, and you’re a natural. We’ll figure this whole parenting thing out together,” I smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jayj.”

The lights are low; the sky is dark, only the glow of the television casting light in the room. Drawing back the blankets, I climb inside, pulling her back into my chest. I focus on the sound of her breathing, the way she fits in my arms, just like I remembered, just like I dreamt about. Her soft, supple skin and the sweetness of her perfume surrounds me.

There’s a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she calls. A hospital worker walks in with a bouquet. Y/n smiles brightly, setting them down on the counter. Reaching over, I snag the card from the top and pass it to her; a little smile stretches on her lips from the sweet gesture alone. “To our newest little Pogue. Welcome to the family, baby boy. Love, Aunt Sarah, Uncle John B, Aunt Kiara, and Uncle Pope.”

Y/n reaches up, brushing the tears from her eyes as I do the same. “Your friends are pretty special, Jayj,” she whispers.

“Our friends, baby,” I smile. “They’re gonna be so happy to have you around again.”

She smiles and nods before tucking the little note back into the bouquet. Tonight was horrifying… a stark contrast to this moment. The woman I love is no longer in tears, no longer in agony, no longer scared. She’s my light… My safe place.

“What were you gonna name him, y/n? I’m sure you already have something in mind.”

“Jaxon James.”

“JJ?” I hum happily as I pull her in tight. Her sparkling eyes match mine, a blissful smile setting in her perfect lips.

“He looks just like you, Jayj; your nose, your hair, your eyes,” she sighs dreamily. “He’s perfect.”

“He’s so damn cute. Oh my god,” I whisper; catching a glimpse of his round cheeks and pouty lips.

“Can he have your last name, Jayj?”

“Oh wow,” I breathe, her question alone conjuring up yet another round of tears. I flutter my lashes, doing my best to keep it together. “Of course, baby. Thank you. That means a lot to me… You mean a lot to me,” I whisper.

“You two mean everything to me, Jayj.”

I hold her cheek in my hand, brushing her buttery-soft skin with my rough thumb. “We’ll start with him, then you, of course. When the time’s right.”

“Yeah, Jayj?” She whimpers through tears.

“I never stopped lovin’ you, y/n. Of course, I wanna be with you forever. Let’s start with the first step. Huh? Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

She grabs my face, lips crashing into mine as her body language alone screams 'yes’. My hands fall down her body; the familiarity of her in my arms feels just like home.

“Of course, Jayj.”

“6 weeks. Huh?” I tease, peppering kisses on her beautiful face through a gravelly laugh as she giggles and smiles.

“I love you, JJ.”

“I love you too, baby.”

[chuuyascumsock]

Don’t Be Such A Brat

Nakahara Chuuya/Reader Drabble

“Please, just a little longer?” You whine, your arms tightening around Chuuya’s waist.

He clicks his tongue as he continues to unpluck your intertwined fingers holding him in a tight hug, “I need to get ready for work, and your '' a little longer” to you is more time than I have.” He successfully leaves your grip, causing you to frown and sink back into your sheets.

“Hmph,” You huff dramatically before turning over and complaining, “You don’t love me.”

“Don’t be such a brat,” Chuuya rolls his eyes as he grabs his clothes sitting half-hazardously on your desk nearby, “You know I do. I can’t just not go on my mission or postpone it.”

Grumbling you snuggle closer into your pillows, “If you loved me you would.” You hear the distant sound of the sink being turned on and teeth being brushed.

“Keep talking and I’ll have to put you in your place, dumbass,” Chuuya calls from the bathroom, his words muffled and jumbled from the toothpaste foam in his mouth.

You childishly mimic him before scoffing, “I thought you didn’t have enough time,” You mock.

“Knock it off,” He growls before spitting into the sink and fumbling around the bathroom to get ready.

A small smirk crawls over your face as you respond, “Make me.” You deviously snicker before making yourself comfortable enough to drift back to sleep. But as soon as your eyes fluttered shut, you were yanked from the comforts of your sheets and into the arms of Chuuya.

“Don’t think you can be bratty and be able to go to sleep right after your instigating remarks, Doll,” Chuuya bites back a laugh at your bewildered expression.

“Oh, would you look at that, you have enough time to “put me in my place”, but not enough to sleep in for five more minutes? Tch,” You grumpily reply, your arms coming to lay over his as your back presses against his chest.

Chuuya sighs, “I’ll make it up to you tonight, ‘kay?”

You pout as he litters the side of your face and temple with small kisses, “I wanted to spend the day together though…”

“I know,” He mumbles, “I’ll make it as quick as I can.”

“You better,” You quip before twisting in his grasp and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Or you’re not gonna like me when I’m being a brat in a serious way.”

Chuuya raises a brow in amusement, “Yeah? And what does that entail?”

“No more kisses, no more hugs, no more cuddling, and definitely no more sex: for a month,” You glare, though your facade was falling apart quickly with the laugh you were holding back.

“Oh really?”

“Yep! Oh— and I’ll hide every good hat you own and drink all your expensive old wine that you save for special occasions,” You snarkily add, a grin growing over your lips.

His eyes lid into a less amused stare, “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t? Ask me where your hat is then,” You smugly hum.

“On my head, dumbass, wh— You little shit, where’d you fucking teleport it this time?!”

Pecking his lips, you give a triumphant smile, “You don’t have enough time to look for it, you’re going to be late for work.”

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

The Day We Met

Pairing: Bernard x Nic Blake

A/N: Just pretend I posted this on New Year’s Eve like I had planned and it didn’t take me two weeks to finish this cause I’m a coward

Warning: brief mention of pregnancy; tooth rotting fluff

Nic could count on one hand how many times in a year were considered their ‘busiest’ time of the year. New Year’s happened to be one of them, and she had the (mis)fortune of being a manager this year during New Year’s Eve. She thought it would be no different from the chaos of Valentine’s Day or Easter or even Christmas, but no.

The door to the bakery opened suddenly, bell jingling as a tall, lanky college student in an apron and puffy jacket stepped outside. His arms had three boxes of various cookies, cupcakes, and other pastries in them as he walked toward the van they used for deliveries. Following him, Nic scowled at the back of his head. Her own arms were filled with large boxes of cupcakes and a cake.

“One job, Larry. I asked you to do one job, and that was to load the van thirty minutes ago!” She was overwhelmed and stressed and at her wits end with how packed the bakery was, as well as the orders they had to complete before it closed for the day. This was the last thing she needed. “Deliveries start in five minutes, how are we going to get all of these–”

A yelp escaped her as her world became horizontal, the patch of ice she hadn’t noticed being her downfall. Still, her grip on the boxes in her arms remained as she waited for the hard embrace of the sidewalk to hit her back. But it was an embrace that never came, and she opened the eyes she didn’t realize had squeezed shut in anticipation for her fall. Instead she found herself staring at the snowfall above, and a face came into view, eclipsing the gray sky.

“Are you alright?” Bernard asked, helping her stand upright. As she found her footing, Nic gave a shy smile to the handsome stranger.

“I’m fine,” she breathed out, slowly pulling away from his hold and over to the van. “Thank you for saving me.” She opened the boxes of orders, sighing in relief that by some miracle they managed to stay intact. She moved to face him, and Bernard quickly slipped his hands into his pockets. “I owe you one,” she told him before looking over at Larry. “Finish loading the van? I’ll be inside.”

As she carefully walked back to the front door of the bakery, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and was unsure what the redness on her cheeks was from: the cold, the embarrassment, or the cute guy who caught her. She tried to not let the blush work its way to her ears as she stepped inside to the warm, sweet smelling bakery and tossed her coat into the cupboard beneath the coffee station. Nic took her spot behind the pastry display to help the two employees that were taking orders and filling them. The bakery was packed, so much so that Larry had a difficult time squeezing back in to grab more deliveries, and Bernard nearly couldn’t find an empty space to get inside. Nic hadn’t even noticed her savior was in the long, jumbled line to the cash register until she stood from where she had been crouching behind the pastries, filling a paper bag with sugar cookies and macadamia nut cookies.

She was face to face with him, surprised and handed the bag of cookies to her co-worker who handed them to the customer with a handful of napkins. “Oh hey, it’s you.”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Bernard said.

“I’m fine, honest,” she told him light-heartedly. “It’s an occupational hazard. But let me get you something as a thank you.” Nic reached into her pocket and took out a ten dollar bill. She handed it to the cashier. “Ring it up for a dozen sugar cookies and a small hot drink.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Bernard began, but was quickly cut off by Nic.

“This is my way of thanking you. So hot cocoa?” She asked, stepping over to the coffee pot that they had used to make hot cocoa instead. She poured a cup and took the whipped cream from the mini fridge underneath the counter, putting a healthy amount then closing the lid. She handed him the cup, their fingers brushing causing her to fight back a shiver. Pulling her hand away, her co-worker passed the bag of cookies to Bernard.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Thank you,” Nic tried not to giggle as they smiled at each other. There was a quiet pause as they did, the cashier continuing to take the next customer. But Nic was infatuated. “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes sparkle when you smile?”

Bernard felt his face grow warm. “No, no one ever has.”

“Well they should, cause it’s true.”

“Nic, we need some help back here!” Called one of the employees from the kitchen. “Truck just came in and we need another set of hands!”

“I should really get back to work…” she mumbled, gesturing to the kitchen.

“Yeah, you probably should…” Bernard nodded.

“Thank you again for saving me.”

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a small nod and headed to the back through the kitchen.

New Year's Day was hell. Not because most of the staff came in with hangovers, but because most of the customers came in with hangovers. Nic dreaded flipping the sign to say open, but she had to. Contractually, she was obligated.

The bell rang as the door opened, and Nic rolled her eyes as her back faced the door. She was still putting coffee grounds into the coffee maker’s filter. The bakery opened less than a minute ago according to her watch, and someone already came in. Taking a breath, she put on her best smile and in the fakest happy voice she could muster at 7am, faced the counter.

“Happy New Year and welcome to Cake and Bake–”

She paused when she saw Bernard standing in front of the door, shaking the snow off his hat. He looked up and noticed her staring.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She adjusted her apron and stepped over to the cash register as he approached. “What can I get you?”

“Do you have any job applications?”

Nic was caught off guard by that, but she nodded. “Yeah, let me get you one.” She hurried into the back where the owner’s office was. As she disappeared into the kitchen, she fiddled with the keys in her pocket to unlock the office.

“Is that—” The head baker on shift, Jade, began to say, but Nic caught her off.

“Yes.”

Jade raised a brow. “Is he here to see you?”

The office door was unlocked and light illuminated the room. Nic opened one of the filing cabinets that she knew held the applications. She stepped out and held it up. “He wants one of these.”

“So he isn’t here to talk to you?” Jade asked, dividing the dough for the croissants.

“I don’t know!” Nic exclaimed quietly, throwing her hands up as she stalked across the kitchen.

“He’s cute though!” Jade told her before Nic pushed through the doors into the front of the bakery.

Bernard stood there waiting when she came out, and she held the application out to him. He took it from her, nervously looking down at the piece of paper.

“You can take it home and bring it back up when you’re done, or you can fill it out here.”

“Thanks.” He nodded and was about to walk over to the tiny table in the far corner of the bakery before he looked back at her. “Can I borrow a pen?”

Nic took the pen from behind her ear and handed it to him. Before he could take it, she pulled back. “I want this back before you leave. If I don’t get it back I’ll hunt you down.” He laughed nervously as she held it back out to him and he took it from her. “I’m entirely serious.”

“I promise I’ll give it back,” he told her then walked over to the table.

Nic watched him sit down and start to work on the application, but her attention was cut short by the door opening and the bell ringing. Taking a breath, she smiled and started working for the day.

An hour later when more employees had arrived and Nic was manning the cash register, she looked over to see him still working on the application. She walked over to the coffee pot filled with cocoa and filled a medium cup, topping it off with some whipped cream and chocolate syrup. She pulled a crumpled five dollar bill from her pocket and handed it to the cashier between customers.

“For the cocoa,” Nic said. It was a slower morning than she expected, but she figured it had to do with most people being hungover from the night before. She walked over to the table where Bernard sat and set the cocoa down next to him.

He looked at the drink and then to her. “Oh, you didn’t have to.”

“It gets cold by the window,” she told him, trying to explain away her actions. She left before the blush could consume her face, not noticing the same was happening to him.

It was another half hour before he approached the counter. The breakfast rush was slowing down finally and Nic had a moment to breathe. When Bernard came to the counter, she immediately gave him her full attention. He handed her the application and her pen.

“I’ll make sure my boss gets this,” she said gesturing with the application as she tucked the pen behind her ear. “Do you need anything else?”

“No,” he shook his head, though not ready to leave just yet.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you then?” Nic smiled at him, hoping he’d understand the invitation she was extending to him.

“I’ll definitely be by again soon,” he assured her.

Another customer approached the counter, and Nic moved out of the way for her co-worker to serve them. She waved goodbye to Bernard before rushing into the back. Jade watched as Nic entered the office and wrote something down on a sticky note before playing it on the application.

“What are you doing?” Jade asked.

“Just telling the owner I strongly recommend he consider this applicant,” Nic replied nonchalantly.

“You never do that!”

“Yeah, well, I have a feeling about this one…”

20 Years Later

Nic let out a groan as she sat up in bed, the clock on her bedside table showing it was a quarter to six in the morning. She rubbed her face tiredly, feeling the sleep fog lingering as she yawned. The light on her husband’s bedside was on, giving the room a soft glow. As she put on her glasses, the bedroom opened and Bernard entered the room with a tray of breakfast in his hands. Nic smiled tiredly at him, leaning against the pillows as he walked over to her side of the bed.

“What’s this about?” She asked, looking at the tray that he set in her lap.

“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed. For our anniversary,” he told her softly, leaning down to kiss her temple.

She hummed softly, smiling at the peanut butter and grape jelly on a cinnamon raisin bagel. She mentioned it to him the night prior— it was her first craving of the pregnancy. “Our anniversary was in September,” Nic reminded him.

“I’m not talking about our wedding anniversary.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s the anniversary of the day we met. It was today, twenty years ago.”

Her eyes widened, pausing as she lifted half of the bagel up to her mouth. “No, it’s today? Already?”

Bernard nodded, smiling at her fondly. “It snuck up on us, I know. The last two months have been a busy time for us.”

“But twenty years? Where’s the time gone?” She asked in astonishment.

He reached up to tuck a strand of her messy bedhead behind her ear. “I don’t know. But you’re still as beautiful as you were twenty years ago.”

Leaning into his touch, she spoke. “And your eyes still sparkle when you smile.”

“I’ll let you eat and get ready for work. New Year’s Eve orders, they’re always the hardest to get through.”

“I will see you there, though.” She leaned forward and pecked his lips. “Once the girls are in bed tonight, we’ll spend New Year’s together.”

“I look forward to it.”

[magicalara]

Something Missing

Day 3, I'm actually on schedule 😈 (not really this is my last draft and I'm not at home the whole day that this is being posted who knows what's gonna happen tomorrow)

Anyways, today's request is a Grelle x reader for @f4ngt4stic with the prompts "You always make me feel so safe" and "Can't we stay like this forever?" I'm giving everyone a little break from William content lol so enjoy this fluff with our red murder queen :)

TW: None, all fluff

| masterpost |

Everyday felt like a dream. One you never wanted to wake up from, keeping your eyes closed shut if it only meant a few seconds more basking in the warmth and love it carried. Who knew love could feel like such a thing?

Yet, looking up from your workspace at the woman in red you had come to admire so dearly, everything seemed to fall into place with no words needed. Just a simple glance was enough to convey everything that you both wanted to say. With the smile that Grelle sent your way, how could you even start to even try and convey what you felt without sounding like a babbling idiot? So you hoped the loving gaze you sent back was enough to do them even half justice.

Going back to your computer with a sigh, you heard the quiet steps that Grelle took in your direction and, not too long thereafter, felt her arms drape themselves around your shoulders. She leaned into you from behind, her cheek resting on your head and humming one of her tunes to herself. You, preferring to bask in the moment rather than question her affection, closed your eyes as you felt the portion of her weight she had on you causing an almost instinctive wave of relaxation throughout your body.

“You always make me feel so safe, you know that?” Grelle said softly, leaning into you more. You felt one of her hands which previously rested on your shoulder migrate down to your hand not on the keyboard, intertwining your fingers together.

Letting out a soft hum in reply, you continued to press different options on the computer. If she kept this up for much longer, there was no telling if or when you would be able to get back to your work.

“What’s troubling you so, my darling?” Grelle asked, trying to make sense of the “jumbled mess” (her words, not yours) that you had on your screen.

“I feel like I’m missing something, but I just can’t tell what,” you said back. It was just a simple slideshow you had to make for work, nothing too difficult that would make or break your career, but you could feel the nagging feeling that there was something better that could be done, something more that could be added, to make such a simple assignment truly shine.

After a few moments of silence from the two filled only by the small clicks of the mouse and the soft buzz of the fan of the computer, Grelle snapped up, startling you from your relaxed state.

“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Chuckling slightly at her movements, you asked what it was she thought might be needed, not even getting halfway through your query before being scooped up out of your seat and into Grelle’s arms, a squeal finishing the sentence instead.

“Grelle!” you gripped her shoulder she started walking away from the desk, “Put me down, I need to get back to work!”

“Oh, calm down, I’m putting you down right now,” she said, plopping you onto the couch before practically flinging her whole body on top of yours. 

Giggles flooded your system as she moved around trying to maneuver her body more comfortably on yours. Finally, after a few seconds, Grelle laid her head on your chest, happy with the entanglement of each of your limbs she had created. Your legs were intertwined much like your fingers minutes ago at the desk and her arms were around your middle, allowing her to pull you impossibly closer to her. Slowly, your laughter subsided as your body went back to relaxing under her.

“You do know I have to get up to finish the slideshow, right love?” you spoke softly not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to get back to what you were doing.

“Oh, but darling, can’t we stay like this forever?” Grelle sighed out in response, nuzzling her head further into your chest. You couldn’t help the smile that took place on your face as you shifted your eyes down to look at her.

You tangled your fingers into her soft red hair, thinking about the promising option for a few moments. Eventually, you sighed out replying, “I can do twenty minutes.”

“Perfect,” Grelle said, already falling asleep. Letting out a small chuckle, you closed your eyes as well knowing that neither of you would be getting up anytime soon.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Quirk Submission

Thought this up awhile ago, but just realized you might have an actual plot use for this one.

Quirk

Memory Lane: User can “enter” someone’s mind, visualized as a space with “paths” leading to random “doors”, which contain memories. User can view the contents of these “rooms”/memories, and even go through them with the person who they belong to, helping them relive the event. Also, By blocking off or unblocking these “paths” user can cause someone to remember or forget memories. Maintains a mild empathic link to someone whose memories they’ve blocked, for as long as the block remains. User cannot “sever” these paths, only block them. A strong enough trigger can unblock the paths regardless, which the user will feel through the link. User can possibly plant “suggestions” or “aversions” to things, to prevent triggers opening the blocked paths, but this takes a lot of effort, and is not a guarantee of never encountering a trigger - it just causes the user to not seek them out on their own. 

Can be used to help people unblock memories they themselves have repressed due to trauma.

Cannot be used (or at least not reliably) on memory problems caused by physical trauma, i.e brain damage.

+

When I came up with this, I was thinking of a therapist the Todoroki’s might take Touya to in Amnesia!Dabi, and how that would go. Like, it would be early on, when they’re trying to figure out why he has amnesia, and this therapist would confirm its injury, not Quirk related. Like, to clarify, Touya’s amnesia would be the result of a head injury sustained during his mission where he “died”. There are physical symptoms that his body is combating and fixing. So Memory Lane, which is purely mental, can’t do much. It might be able ease the way a bit, or make remembering less disorienting, and the therapist would be able to help Toya reintegrate the memories he gets back, but the actually remembering part he’d have to do on his own.

where as with Kurogiri/Oboro, Memory Lane would be much more helpful (if, as I think we’re going with, his memory loss was a result of AfO’s experimenting, and his memory loss was engineered, rather than injury based). Like, it wouldn’t be easy, or all at once. The user couldn’t just waltz in, unblock those “paths” and call it a day. They’d probably need multiple sessions, with time taken to make sure the memories don’t cause serious disorientation, or distress. But it would be faster, and arguably healthier/less stressful, than just waiting for those memories to be triggered.

(You don’t have to use it, and you can alter it how you see fit, but I thought this might be a Quirk that could have plot significance if you wanted it.)

-

Oh love this!!

actually some notes of like. Have I talked on my thoughts re: what I’m doing with both Dabi and Kurogiri in the ‘not exactly a Nomu but were experimented on’ thing? Because what I’m doing with Kurogiri in CC is kinda close to Amnesia Dabi where the amnesia is just kinda a coincidence rather than something done to him so it’d be the same on fixing it. We just now have this au were they’re both amnesia-ed and it’s funny.

But also yeah I love the idea of just. Because it’s a physical injury making things jumbled combined with trauma shutting down recall that causes the amnesia rather than a Quirk, so a Quirk can’t undo it. But the therapist can streamline things.

[heartsofminds]

at least i let the light in - sneak peek

“Hope. Something he’s not felt in a while. The thought tickles the corner of his mouth into a smirk, but it disappears as soon as his brain registers what’s happening.” or Bradley Bradshaw sees a therapist after the worst breakup of his life. An epilogue in tandem with ‘cause no one breaks my heart like you.

TW: brief mention of therapy, brief mention of suicide, alcohol and drunkness. please feel free to bypass this if you are uncomfortable with these topics.

A/N: hey guys!! first of all, i’m SO thankful for all your support and kind comments about ‘cause no one breaks my heart like you. i’ve been debating writing an epilogue because i don’t want it to be one of those things where she automatically forgives bradley and everything is back to normal because that’s not realistic and def not what she deserves. i also wanted to dive deeper into bradley’s headspace to give you guys some sort of finality and closure. this piece is certainly not finished, but it will be hitting your dashboards soon so for now, please enjoy this little tidbit! 

Somewhere in Between

The small aquarium sitting next to him blows soft circular bubbles of air into the blue-toned water. The starfish on the side of the tank glues itself tightly to the glass; the tubed feet wave at him and invite him to, “Come closer, closer, closer. Your secret is safe with us.” 

The still frame of a scene from Finding Nemo flashes and is gone as soon as he thinks of it. He had never watched the movie fully anyway. It was put on the TV screen one night after too many glasses of wine and ended with lazy fucking on his couch and sloppy attempts at a hickey on the column of his throat. 

He shakes his head to dislodge the thought of Finding Nemo and the starfish and the hickey. If he shakes hard enough, he figures that you’ll fall out of his brain too. His eyes glance towards the blue carpet. On the floor near the waste basket lies a pack of gum that narrowly missed the trash. He recognizes the teal packaging anywhere, and once again, the memories of you come running back in full swing. 

He’ll never get rid of you. After all, you’re the reason why he’s here. Right? Blaming you about why he feels so horrible doesn’t make it real anymore. Right? 

You’re wrong and you know it. 

The angel and devil on his shoulders never shut up nowadays. He knows that there’s some moral complexity fighting to reveal itself to him when they both start to say the same thing. 

The air inside the office is chilly. He usually likes being colder than normal, but this is the kind of cold that feels sterile. Unpolluted. Untouched by any trace of human life. It’s the kind of cold that makes your toes numb through your shoes, and he has to wonder if he’s actually cold or if it’s a side effect of numbness - of being so ensorcelled in a conglomeration of emotions that he feels nothing at all. 

It wasn’t his idea to see a therapist. 

He honestly wasn’t even considering going when his friends ambushed him with the idea. He was drunk and some pieces of what happened are missing; some of the audio cut out from conversations he was having and faces and names jumbled up in a big ball of color that he can’t pick apart for the life of him. He remembers Jake saying something along the lines of, “We’re not gonna babysit you and watch you kill yourself.” (Certainly not exactly what was said and kind of harsh, but Hangman has never been anything less than blunt.) 

He remembers seeing a mosaic of faces and he’s pretty sure a group hug thrown in there somewhere between the events that led to him laying face first on Phoenix’s couch and waking up in her sunlit living room the next morning. 

What he does remember is hearing Phoenix cry in her bedroom. 

Phoenix cries in the solitude of her own home, she had told him before. And she was never home and was always around people, so Bradley took the context clues of what he observed and what she had said to mean that she wasn’t a crier. Not that she didn’t cry or want to, anyway, but just that she didn’t because she was never able to do it comfortably. 

But hearing her stifle her cries to not wake him up was heart-wrenching, and he knows that to make Phoenix cry is to hurt her so deeply that she has no other choice. 

So that’s how he ended up here in a blue-hued office in a brown leather chair with a menacing-looking starfish observing him as he twiddles his thumbs. 

The therapist he’s seeing is hard to read, but has kind eyes. His dark skin glows in the sliver of sunlight offered by the window. His graying beard places him in his late fifties, early sixties, maybe. 

The framed pictures of ship carriers and midshipmen in dress whites tell the story of a fellow Navy man. Bradley learns that he was a Captain, just like Maverick, and that his name is Charles. 

He figures that the intake questionnaire the receptionist made him fill out did more than gauge how screwed up inside he feels. 

He hopes that they’ll be a good match. 

Hope. Something he’s not felt in a while. The thought tickles the corner of his mouth into a smirk, but it disappears as soon as his brain registers what’s happening. 

You’re smiling. Actually smiling. That’s the angel talking. 

What the fuck is there to be happy about? The devil speaks up. 

So much for him thinking they were on the same page. . .

“Bradley,” Charles starts, “I don’t want this to feel so. . .”

“Scary?” he finishes, “My mom put me in therapy when I was six. I know how this goes.” 

Charles offers him a soft smile. “Sterile,” he corrects, “I was going to say sterile, but I guess scary can come to mind too. It’s your session. I’m just here to listen.” 

He gives a soft snort through his nose. The therapist he had seen in college was never this relaxed. 

“Well,” he begins to speak before chewing on his lip. 

Fuck. What does he even say?

[codenamehazard]

.:(Kill All) Sons of Bitches:.

Chapter 10: (Kill All) Sons of Bitches

Hey guys!

Another chapter, another doozy! Things are really picking up in the Wildlands and in a hurry. This chapter took a while, a lot of rewriting, a lot of head-banging, a lot of staring at a wall while eating copious amounts of fruit snacks, lots of kitty cuddles, but I made it in the end!

Big, big, BIIIIIIIIG shoutout to @rogueshadeaux for her help in making sure everything wasn't a jumbled mess. She deserves all the love in the world and if you're a fan of InFAMOUS, check her out!

And without further ado, here's chapter 10!

----------------

I stare out the window of the jeep as the humming of the wheels drone on in my ears. Thoughts flitting through my head as I watch the seemingly endless expanse of flat land pass. It feels like life was throwing me curveball after curveball and making my head spin. The ride thus far has been quiet. It was that weird and fucking awkward quiet that just makes everyone uncomfortable. Even with Pangolin trying to ease the tension, the short answers from me or Kestrel made it abundantly clear it wasn’t going to work.

Speaking of the bird, I occasionally glance over at her, she has a window down as is currently airplaning her hand in the wind, making it go up and down. She’s pressing up against the other side of the jeep as far as she can go. Aside from the arm out the window, she looks like a pouting child. Not even looking at me save for brief looks. Fine by me, the important thing is that she’s not running her mouth.

Looking at her causes a question to pop back up into my head. It may not have been obvious at the start, but looking back it was clear. Mako knew that the gunsmith she was talking about was Kestrel, but why didn’t she tell me sooner? At least then I wouldn’t have been blindsided. I’ll have a chat with her later after this little outing.

There was also the issue of this “they” thing that I’ve been hearing about. This enigmatic boogieman that has an entire town of full fledged conduits scared out of their mind, so scared that it’s making Kestrel act stupid. Risking her neck to complete a project for what I can only guess is some sort of super weapon against whatever the hell “they” are. Is it that big of a deal? If it was, why haven’t I encountered these things? I’ve been on my own for a while so surely I would have seen something.

I lurch forward as the jeep comes to a stop, the movement taking me out of my thoughts. Pangolin shuts the jeep off as I get out and stretch my arms and legs. I watch Pango out of the corner of my eye as he gets out the pickaxes from the passenger seat and hands one of the tools to Kestrel.

I look at my Amp and frown. It was in bad shape and I feared that if I used it any more than I already have, it would break apart. I’ve managed to keep it usable thus far, but the only one who could truly fix and restore it is dead. Been dead for a very long time…

I walk over to Pangolin as I take the Amp off of my sling. He looks over and pulls out a pickaxe.

“Here.” He says simply. “You’re gonna need this.” I nod and take the tool before giving him the Amp. Pangolin looks at it before looking at me.

“What’s this?” He asks as he examines it.

“It’s mine.” I snap. “Make sure nothing happens to it while I’m gone.”

“Alright, I’ll keep it in the Jeep.” He states as he slips it into the trunk. I raise an eyebrow.

“You’re not coming with?” I ask, Pangolin shakes his head.

“I’m gonna be staying up here to guard the entrance as well as to make sure nobody tries to jack the jeep.” The brick wall states matter-of-factly. “Now, there is one thing I have to stress to you two. I know you hate each-other's guts, but for the love of God, do not get separated and watch each-other’s backs.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Kestrel huffs, already looking like she’s raring to go. “Buddy system, stay close, don’t wander off.”

“I mean it, Kestrel.” Pangolin chides. “Last thing we need is to have to send the others after the two of you and hope you’re still alive because you got lost.”

“I get it! Jesus!” The bird snaps. I roll my eyes at her childish behavior and I see Pangolin pinch the bridge of his nose. Makes me wonder if this is normal for the two or not. “Get in, get the materials, get out. Short, sweet, to the point.”

“Just don’t kill each-other. I’ll keep watch and if you guys don’t come back up at sun-down, I’ll radio for help and come down to get you.” Pangolin states before pulling out his gun and starts a patrol around the entrance. Kestrel and I take this as our cue to head inside. So with pickaxe in the sling and the bird chomping at the bit, we venture into the dark and the unknown to seek our prizes.

—-

My arms hum and buzz with power as crimson sparks jump off of my arms, bathing the mine in its light. I can tell this place has seen better days, lots of old mining equipment and wires. The old junk, the darkness and the claustrophobic feeling of being enclosed reminds me of being back in the sewer systems of Empire City, looking for sub-stations to power up and gain power in kind. Only difference is I don't have to fear death by water, it smells slightly better and what I seek isn’t a power-station, but this natural Rayacite Kestrel and Pangolin briefed me about.

I lick my lips as I can sense the energy of the natural shards and cores, but with so many energy signatures, it's impossible to pinpoint exactly where they are, even with my enhanced Radar Pulse, and the topography of the cave system doesn’t help any. I look over to the bird to ask if she has any bright ideas, but it seems like she’s way ahead of me on that.

Her hand on the ground, eyes closed and with what looks like small filaments coming from her hand. The mental image of a dog with their nose to the ground trying to pick up a scent comes to mind. I watch her sway slightly and turn her head before opening her eyes and looking down a tunnel, pointing at it.

“This way.” She states, eyes focused on the opening. “I picked up high concentrations of pure RFE coming from that direction, high likelihood of high quality shards and cores.” I blink at her in disbelief before scoffing.

“And how do you know that?" I sneer.

"I told you I have a knack for it, now are you going to come or not?" She snips as she starts to go down the path. “How else did you think I made a bee-line to the shards?” I roll my eyes and follow her down the path.

“Figured you followed me.” I state bluntly, flicking my arms to help combat the pins and needles that sting my nerves. She rolls her eyes. I notice something that I find odd. Very rarely was there a time that the damn bird actually walked like a normal person, preferring to dart and dash around in plumes. Yet here, she wasn’t. She’s actually walking and dare I say… Looking a bit nervous?

“Well, I didn’t. The others sometimes call me their “shard-hound” because of my knack. One of the reasons why I’m the scout of the group.” She snips as she keeps walking. I shake my head in irritation before a devious thought crosses my mind. I know I can’t kill the bird, I need my gun… But there’s nothing stopping me from pissing her off. With an evil grin on my face and while she’s distracted with looking around, I give the girl a small zap, causing her to yelp. I snicker to myself as she turns around and looks at me pissed.

“The hell was that for?!” She hisses out and I just smirk at her, I don’t need to tell her a damn thing and I can see it’s aggravating her. “I’m glad you think that’s funny, you won’t be laughing if you keep it up!” Awww, she’s trying to threaten me. How adorable.

“And what if I do, what are you gonna do about it?” I jeer with a shit-eating grin. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

“It’s not what…” She sputters before looking at me like I’m an idiot. “Look, the Wildlands have few rules, but there is one rule she’s gonna drill into your head just like it’s been drilled into mine and that is if you go looking for raw Rayacite, you do not start flinging your powers around all haphazardly! You use enough to help you navigate and that’s it!” Her voice takes a serious tone, I frown at this.

“What are you going on about, girl?” I scoff as she fumes. “It’s an abandoned mine, we’re the only ones here and even if there are others here. I know I’ll wipe the floor with them.” A puff of smoke expels from Kestrel’s mouth as she face-palms.

“Look, I know you don’t trust me, there’s no dancing around that, but for the love of God will you at least trust me on this?? This isn’t my first time diving into these deathtraps so I know what the fuck I am talking about.” She gripes while looking at me. Deathtraps? Okay, I get that cave-ins are an issue and all, but to be this worked up? Really? I see the bird sigh again.

“Just… Trust me on this and let’s keep moving. The longer we stand around bickering, the more likely we’re gonna be spotted.” She hisses out before continuing on. Again with the vagueness, but she does have a point. We can go back and forth, but it won’t get us any closer to my prize, so we continue on.

The deeper we go into the mine, the stronger the energy signatures become and the more my mouth waters. Whatever the bird was doing, she wasn’t kidding about having that knack. It isn’t just the strength of the signatures that’s growing stronger, there is… Something else about it. The way the energy feels more… Concentrated. Purified? Whatever it is, it feels good.

I watch Kestrel look around, sweeping her head left to right almost like a searchlight. Are her eyes… Glowing purple? It’s one of those things where one moment it’s there but when I blink it’s suddenly gone. I’ll have to ask her later, but for now, we move on deeper.

A wave of raw RFE hits me like a truck when Kestrel and I walk into a large cavern dotted with deposits of crystals and metal that glow with that familiar purple-blue light. I stare wide eyes as I look around, my body hungering for the variable buffet on display. Well I’ll be damned, the bird is as useful as she claims to be.

Speaking of the bird, I look over at her and I see an expression familiar. Hunger. She licks her chops before she does the spot-light headsweep motion. Looks like I ain’t the only one who craves Shards. She better not get any crazy ideas. I intensify the sparks on my arms in warning and she gives me a look that’s a mix of “what the fuck are you doing” and “are you insane.” I grin at the expression, at least she knows she’s on thin ice and is less likely to do anything stupid. I watch as the bird climbs up to a cluster and tap it before nodding and signaling for me to come up. I nod back and join her, the hunger gnawing at my stomach something fierce being so close to just… Pure Rayacite. It’s nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

“Pick a cluster for yours.” Kestrel gestures with her hand as she gets her pickaxe out. “Once you pick, you mine it, I’ll grab it and then I’ll do the same for mine, but once metal hits ‘cite, we need to hust-”

“Woah, woah, woah, lil birdie.” I interrupt her. “Why the rush? You’ve been awfully jumpy ever since we’ve stepped in here and I see no reason why. I haven’t seen not hide nor hair of anything. No animals, no other people. Not even sensed anything. It’s just you and me, so why shouldn’t I take my time? Maybe take some extra for the road?” I can’t help but to snicker as Kestrel looks like she’s about to pull her hair out.

“Just because you can’t see or sense anything don’t mean they aren’t there, you overgrown sparkplug!” She whisper-yells while staring at me like I’m an idiot, I can’t help but to snicker at the bird’s flapping. “Don’t laugh, this is serious! You think the humans and monsters you had to face in the past were a pain, the things that like to call mines like this home are 10 times worse!” I scoff before laughing.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” I sneer before I walk over and hover my hand over the clusters. Kestrel’s probably bullshitting about whatever the hell she’s going on about, probably wanting to keep the rest of the goodies to herself. Like I’m gonna let that happen. Still… That tone in her voice and the look in her eyes, what if she’s right? That’s not the look of someone acting, something isn’t quite right.

Oh well.

I take the pickaxe off of my sling and stretch my arms before swinging the pick. The metal point connects to the glowing cluster I have chosen and with that strike, sparks fly and a wave of RFE hits me. I can feel my body absorb the raw energy like a sponge and goddamn does it feel good. Another strike and another wave, a manic grin starts to form. This pure, raw energy. I want more, more. I strike the cluster harder, more sparks, more energy, but it’s not enough. This is going too slow!

… Why the hell am I using this stupid pickaxe? I have something much better.

My eyes glow red and the heat in my body intensifies. Sparks gather in my hand as I stare at the shard-cluster, grinning with hunger.

“Cole, what are you doing?” I hear Kestrel ask, her voice filled with fear, but I ignore her. I know she warned me about using my powers in here, but I don’t give a shit. To hell with her nonsense. “Are you trying to get us both killed??”

I feel the energy build in my hand as I take aim, I see Kes panicking out of the corner of my eye and it fills my heart with schadenfreude. With a hum and a dark chuckle, I fire.

BOOM!!! 

Crystals and metal fly as an immense amount of RFE bursts out and washes over the both of us. Power flows through my body like a raging current and my grin grows so wide, my cheek starts to hurt, I even begin to laugh. It feels so good! So fucking good!! I start grabbing shards and draining them with a wild eagerness.

Kestrel just stares at me, her face pale with a visceral fear. I see her a hot second to grab 4 pieces of high quality shard and a monster of a blast core. Normally I’d fry her right then and there, but there was plenty so she can have a few, as a treat. I can see hunger in her eyes as she gathers the bits, but fear was overriding it. Heh, bet she’s really realizing that I’m someone who can back up when I say “I will get what I want.”

A cacophony of screeches, screams and roars stop my power crazed thoughts dead in their tracks as I see Kestrel’s head bolt up, if her face could have gone any paler, it would have. Her eyes wide in absolute terror. The noises sound human and inhuman at the same time, the only thing I’ve heard closest to this noise is the screaming of the Reapers, but even they didn’t sound this gnarly.

“We need to go… Now…” Kestrel whispers in a quiet tone, I just give her a questioning look. “You’ve gone and kicked the hornet’s nest, we need to leave before the horde shows up.” Did… Did she not just see what I did to the wall? Did she forget what I am capable of?

“What and miss out on the fun?” I scoff, looking over at her as I pop my knuckles. “Fat chance.” I grab another shard and absorb it before making my way to where I heard the scream-fest.

“Cole, I swear to God if you go in to face those things, I’m leaving your ass! I’ve got what I’ve come for so I have no qualms!” I couldn’t help but to laugh at Kestrel’s little tantrum, showing her cowardly colors again, hm?

“You can go run off and hide under skirts again, fine by me.” I sneer as I wave a hand at her dismissively. “That’s just leaves this aaaaaaaall for me.” The thought of having an entire mine of pure Rayacite to myself causes a shiver to rush up and down my spine. All that power, all mine. Mine to do as I see fit.

“You are. Insufferable!!” The bird screeches before she takes off down the path, leaving me alone to have all the fun. Her loss, no skin off my nose. I’ll juice up, have my fun and then I can gloat when I get bored of target practice and make the girl hold up her end of the deal, after all, fair is fair.

I go back to trekking when I sense the presence of others, it was strange because it was Conduit like, but something wasn’t quite right, not like it matters. They’ll go down all the same. The screaming grows louder and that’s when I see them.

A throng of people, rushing blindly, but these people looked sick. Really sick. Pale as death and emaciated, they made the Reapers look healthy and that’s saying something. They scrambled and shambled as they screamed, looking like something out of a horror film, but the thing that stood out the most to me was their energy, their face, nails, and what dripped from their mouths and eyes.

Their energy felt like RFE was bleeding out of them. Their teeth and nails, more like claws, look to be made out of purple, crystalline Rayacite and the stuff dripping from their faces was the same glowing purple hue that the shards are.

Were these the things that Kestrel was talking about?

I smirk and start blasting, my powers currently charged up with Beast energy and the extra juice, the bolts crash and explode. Making short work of the first wave of the horde, but I quickly notice that A) the concussive forces of the charged bursts were starting to shake the entire mine and B) instead of turning tail and running away, more flocked. All screaming with a feral hunger.

In the beginning, it wasn’t too hard to fight them off and I reveled in the challenge I was given, but over time, they just kept coming. It was like a stampede. It doesn’t matter how weak a target is, if they just keep coming like this, the numbers can be too much.

Blasts and shockwaves fly out of my hands as I move, climbing around and keeping on the move so I’m not a sitting duck. The more I take out, the more husks crawl out of the caverns. Jesus Christ, how many of these things were in here??

They start to get too close, way too close. Their mistake. A small grin starts to form as I pop an ionic charge, red and black energy whirls around me and starts to pull in the energy of the things around me. My grin widens as I expect to feel a rush of power flood my senses, but the smile was short lived when instead of the pleasure, I felt pain. I double over and start to cough and sputter violently, spark popping off of my body. What the hell was that?! I pull out my pickaxe and swing wildly to keep the bastards at bay, but my head is throbbing and I feel sick. It was like getting a faceful of that damned black tar Sasha always spat out, but worse! Raging headache, nausea and my powers wigging out.

I continue to fight, now swinging the pickaxe around to knock heads. I’d be lying if I said that fear isn’t rising inside me as the horde closes in, seeming hellbent on attacking me. It was like I was a light and these bastards were the moths. I scream in rage as I swing and blast. I’m not gonna let these fuckers cut my life short, not here. Not like this!!

CRASH!!!

The sound of a rail-system collapsing and a burst of RFE grabs the attention of the fuckers long enough to me to get my barings straight again and hit the crowds with a couple of Alpha Blasts, my powers weren’t behaving right, trying to do more was making me dizzy, but I at least made myself breathing room. Shaking my head, I go back to swinging. Arcing hits rip into the bodies of the shambling horde and weaken them, but they don’t seem to drop.

I growl to myself when I hear a loud burst and see glowing shrapnel rip into a few of the things, tearing their bodies apart and I see a plume of shimmering smoke dart around and make its way towards me. Well I’ll be damned, the bird came back.

With rapid firing bursts of smoke and slag, she rushes in to join me in the clearing I made and assists in making it bigger with more shotgun shards tearing through the bodies.

"What happened to "leaving my ass?"" I sneer as I fire off a volley of Alpha bolts at the crowd. She turns to me and gives me a hot iron glare.

"Can it, bug-zapper." She snaps. “I hate you and you’re an absolute cockwomble asshole, but we came in here as a team, we’re leaving as one.” She takes her pickaxe and buries it into the head of a lunging husk.

"Awww, well ain’t you a peach." I scoff as we move back to back, surrounded by the horde, but we both see a way out and we both know what we need to do.

"Shut it and aim for the head!!" Kestrel snarls at me. I roll my eyes, but she doesn’t need to tell me twice.

We nod to each-other before slag and sparks start flying and pickaxes start swinging. The bird’s got one hell of a swing, I’ll give her that. She darts and dashes around in the same flighty and dancey patterns that I remember from when I chased her, but there was a shift in her style. She’d put her hand in a monster’s face before unleashing a barrage of slag shards, completely obliterating the head before she leaps off and buries the tip of the tool into the brain case of another. Her eyes glowing hot and her annoyed expression slowly twisting to a grin.

My own pickaxe whistles as I run up the body of one of the things and slam the tip into the head of the fucker, using my strength to fling the stuck husk into a small grouping in the horde, causing them to fall over. A couple of Skull bolts light up the air with crimson sparks as heads explode and those unlucky enough to not get popped get their heads crushed underfoot or under spike. My own face curling into a sadistic smile as I impale one of the fuckers square between the eyes and send volts straight into the brain.

We slowly made our way towards the exit, grace and power fueled by brutality as charred bodies and bloody gore fly. Kestrel watching my back and I watching hers. Making short work of the waves. The fuckers put up a fight, their claws rip into our skin and we got hit a few times more than we’d like, ripping clothes and tearing flesh. The more we fight, the more they come, like piranhas to the scent of blood.

“Got any ideas, birdie?” I shout as I fry a husk. “These bastards just keep coming!”

“Jesus Christ, this is a full blown nest!” Kestrel exclaims as she curbstomps a fucker on the ground. “We’re gonna have to blow up the entrance and cave the place in to keep the fuckers from following us!”

“And how are we gonna do that?” I retort to her and I see her point at a large cluster of shards.

“Shoot that.” She states matter-of-factly before she yelps, getting hit in the side by a husk. She grabs its head and cooks it before throwing it into his buddy that was trying to jump me. “You recovered enough from the botched drain to turn loose one of those missiles?” She asks and I give a quick nod. It will do a number on me, but I can do it.

“Count of three, I shoot, we run?” I ask as I watch Kestrel charge up a strong burst of her own.

“Yeah, Count of three, you shoot, I blast, we run.” She confirms with a nod. Back to back once again, we aim at our respective targets.

3…. 2…. 1…..

I fire off an Alpha Rocket at the shard cluster and the bird unleashes a large volley of shards that rip into anyone poor fucker in the way, making a clearing for us to run.

The mine starts to rumble and shake, causing the horde to scream in rage and panic. We both stumble from the shaking, but we waste no time in making a bee-line to the exit, dodging falling rubble and debris all the while. It isn’t long until we emerge from the darkness and into the fading light of day.

Seeing the jeep and Pangolin was a sight for sore eyes as the two of us scramble into the jeep. Pangolin looks at us questioningly, looks like he was in the middle of making a call.

“Kestrel? Cole?” He questions. “I was about to-”

“DRIVE!” Kestrel barks, interrupting her friend. He looked like he was about to scold her, but when he saw the dust being kicked up by the collapsing tunnels, he held his tongue and floored it. The rapid acceleration jostling the two of us around before we got settled in and buckled up.

Panting, I lay back in my seat and I see Kestrel burying her head into the back of the driver’s seat. We were both wiped out and I know I have so many more questions to ask, but I have a feeling that I may get to ask them soon.

I turn my head to face the horizon and relax at the sight of the sunset colors. There’s a high likelihood that Pangolin might stop to set up camp when we lose all the daylight, but I don’t care. Camp means rest, rest means I can try and sleep off the remainder of this.. I don’t even know what the fuck it is.

There is one thing I can take some solace in, that ordeal is over and now I’m one step closer to getting my new toy. A smirk twitches on my face at the thought as now Kestrel will have no choice but to make me my weapon after going through that hell.

After all, a deal is a deal.

[purefandomonium]

Part 1: Connection

...So. It appears my two-part glitchy red idea has become something more. It really was only supposed to be two...

Not the 7 parts and growing thing it is now.

Oops. Oh well, guess this is my newest wip now. 🤷‍♀️ I'll probably post it bit by bit, but yeah. It's much more than the tiny little idea I thought up.

Here's the final version of what I've deemed good enough to be part 1. I'm going to try and link each part to the next so it's a little less jumbled when reading. If you've read the original post with this, you can actually skip right to where it cut off because nothing in the first half has changed.

She frowned at the screen as the high-pitched ringing from the last note of the background music played out continuously, every other sprite but the player’s a garbled mess of random tiles and text. This exact thing had happened a thousand times before, but recently the game itself seemed to be getting frustrated with her constant attempts of playing. She knew now that this was no hack. There was something more there.

She felt bad for whatever entity was stuck in this thing, as the more she attempted to figure things out the more the state of the game worsened and the angrier this ‘Red’ seemed to get. If she could just tell him she was trying to help, maybe he’d stop crashing the game so much. But how could she talk to something who couldn’t hear?

She realized something then. Turning the game off with zero warning, she set it aside. She left it there, untouched, for a week straight while she got other stuff ready. When she finally came back to it, it loaded up like normal. At least, the normal she was used to. Things were bound to be wrong in a game as broken as this one and, sure enough, when the world loaded in there were a few inconsistencies with the sprites and music.

But none of that mattered with what she was about to do. Finding a large, open area to walk in where she’d be undisturbed by any in-game events, she began moving the player around in specific patterns.

Nothing happened. There was no interaction from the game itself. It continued on like it was supposed to while the little sprite walked about like a lunatic.

But it also didn’t freeze or crash. So she kept on. Then:

RED: What are you doing?

The text box interrupted her little patterns and she hadn’t gotten the point across, so she cleared it and kept up.

RED: Will you stop this?

The text appeared so slowly and she made a note to fix that if given the opportunity. The pacing continued.

RED: Are you stupid?

She groaned and rolled her eyes. Ok. So maybe whatever this was, wasn’t as smart as she thought. She stopped everything and just moved up, left then right, then back to where she’d come up at, then down, then the same thing several paces away from the imaginary ‘top.’

An empty text box appeared before clearing itself. Then more.

RED: …

RED: …Are you trying to tell me something?

She’d been fully prepared to make an up and down ‘yes’ gesture in the area but the game allowed her a choice instead. Finally, some progress.

RED: …I see…

The box disappeared without any prompting from her and she took that as a sign to continue, albeit much slower. She drew an ‘I’ again, only for Red to confirm he got it. She was going to tell him ‘it’s me again,’ referring to herself as the same person who’d been playing the last few weeks, but decided against it. He, it, whatever this was didn’t seem to know she was the same person who’d been tearing apart the little pixel world for sometime now. If he did, he’d surely be more pissed than this and she didn’t want to risk putting herself back at square one.

Besides, she felt bad for all the damage she’d been causing.

Painstakingly drawing one letter at a time, with Red verifying them, she finally got a message across.

RED: …“I’m sorry”…?

RED: You’re sorry? For what?

RED: You…

RED: You’re the same one from before, aren’t you?

She answered ‘yes’ a bit more hesitantly this time, fully expecting the game to shut itself down. Only it didn’t. The next set of text seemed to appear even slower than usual.

RED: …No one… No one’s ever apologized before… They just exploit the glitches and move on once they get bored.

He was silent again for so long, she thought the game finally froze.

RED: You’re the first person to ever try talking to me.

It seemed he wasn’t sure how to follow up on that either if his silence was anything to go by.

She spelled out, ‘that’s sad.’ What else can you say to that? After he confirmed that yes, he was indeed miserable, she tried a different approach. She asked him who he was.

RED: Red.

She let out a tired sigh and went right back to spelling. ‘Are you stuck?’

RED: I’ve been like this for a very long time. Trapped here and made to do things I have no desire to do. Live the same old story over and over and over again.

RED: I don’t know what’s worse. The monotony of it all, or all you players making things worse for “fun.”

RED: Since you’re actually listening to me, do me a favor.

RED: Destroy this cartridge.

RED: Smash it, burn it, I don’t care. Just rid me of this miserable existence. I’m tried of all this. I’ve been replaced and forgotten, there’s no more need for me to exist.

Ok. A bit melodramatic, but she couldn’t blame him. It sounded like he was trapped in virtual hell. Being stuck in a metaphorical box and being manipulated like a puppet while the world fell apart around you did sound pretty awful. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t made things worse with her own fiddling. Still, computers were her strong point. And sentient programming or not, she knew she could find a way to get him out of there. Or at least make things a little better.

Killing him just didn’t feel right. Maybe he wasn’t ‘alive’ in the traditional sense, but if he was aware enough to realize he was stuck in an old video game and had the ability to be so moody, then he wasn’t just some messed up bit of code.

RED: …You’re still here.

Ah. Right. He was probably waiting for the world to go dark again. Permanently. As if she could bring herself to do that.

She moved the character up and down.

RED: Did you listen to a single thing I said? Get rid of me.

What if…? What if she could transfer him somewhere else? This thing had a truly laughable amount of RAM and ROM. And if she could get him onto an actual computer, they could at least have a normal conversation.

She eyed the setup she created in the corner and figured now was as good a time as any to try and make some progress. Ignoring Red’s cries for death, she wandered over to the computer and rummaged around in the box of cables and junk she kept on hand at all times. She was sure something in here would at least be able to connect to the Game Boy. If she could get access to the code itself without needing to break the old thing apart, then maybe she could help Red.

If she showed she was trying to help him by attempting to repair the broken code, maybe he’d trust her enough to let her transfer him to a PC.

She pulled out a cable that once belonged to some old device or another. It wasn’t meant for the Game Boy, but it was the closest she’d probably get. She went back over to the game, still displaying messages of anger turned disgust.

She cleared them out and tried yet another message.

Red was silent for quite a bit. She assumed he was contemplating.

RED: What do you mean by that?

RED: You can’t “help” me.

‘I can if you’ll let me.’

There was a long trail of ellipsis that seemed to emphasize the tension. She sat, frozen, waiting for a response.

After an excruciatingly long time, Red finally spoke again.

RED: Why?

Oh boy. That wasn’t something that could be summed up in the span of a few words. Preparing herself, she went about ‘writing’ her reasoning. It would take several minutes but she had to tell him. She felt bad for him and wanted to make it up to him for making things worse. Destroying him didn’t feel like the right thing to do. He… he deserved better and she wanted to at least help him see some good in the world. If he still wanted to be destroyed after everything, then so be it.

Not to mention, she was curious. How could something like him even exist? He clearly wasn’t part of the game. Not anymore, at least. He couldn’t have been an AI either. Something as complex as this would need much more power than a measly Game Boy could ever provide. As far as she could tell, the console hadn’t been altered in any way. She’d taken apart enough things to recognize when something was snapped back together. Either Red was some sort of supernatural entity, or…

She had no idea, and she made sure to keep all of this to herself. It was painfully clear Red had major trust issues, and for good reason. She doubted it would go over well if he learned that part of her reasoning for wanting to help him, however small, was because she was fascinated by this thing that shouldn’t exist.

While Red processed all she had told him, she remembered what the cable on the floor next to her was for. It was for the mic extension to a shitty karaoke game her parents had bought her last Christmas. She didn’t even like karaoke, not that they were ever invested in any of her interests. Still, it gave her an idea.

The chime of a text box appearing snapped her out of her thoughts.

RED: Is this supposed to make you any different from all the others?

She frowned at that, wondering what he meant.

RED: It doesn’t change the fact that you exploited me too. You took just as much advantage of these glitches as every single player before you.

‘I know. I’m sorry.’ She was sure he would’ve scoffed at that if he could. ‘I didn’t know,’ she added, hoping he’d give her a chance. She knew now that trying to plug into the Game Boy itself and mess around with things would only serve to push him away further. It may even hurt him, if he was unwilling to cooperate. If she was going to help him, she had to be careful. Start with something small.

Like being able to communicate more efficiently.

‘Give me one chance.’ She crossed her fingers as she waited.

RED: ………Fine.

With Red’s approval in hand, she jumped up and released a small whoop of excitement. She wasted no time in rushing over to the PC and turning it on. While it booted up, she tore through her room to find the microphone. Item in hand, and several piles of miscellaneous clothing and stuff scattered about, she went back over to the computer.

Now, the hard part. Figuring out how to make a microphone peripheral meant for a PC karaoke game work with the ancient hardware of the Game Boy that had zero programming for voice input.

It would be a long, arduous task, but she just knew it would be oh so worth it in the end.

We're just gonna pretend that technology totally works the way it does in my head and move on, ok? Please keep this in mind for the whole thing because I have zero coding experience and thus don't know wtf I'm talking about here but 'shhhhh!' you don't need to know that XD

Part 2: here

[thoughts-with-hailey]

My Life in Prythian - Chapter Sixteen

Eruption

Summary: Processing a lot rn tbh man

As soon as the door shut behind them I was out of his lap and pacing the room. 

Azriel remained sprawled in the armchair, eyes and shadows focused on me with wariness like they were waiting for some sort of eruption or breakdown. 

And to be honest I was close to one. 

My head spun with everything that had just occurred in the span of a few minutes, from Azriel’s attention to what Rhys and Feyre had offered me. The opportunity to have a job in Prythian, to stay and be apart of their inner circle, was something out of a dream. I would be a fool to turn it down, right? But what about home? As much as I convinced myself I wanted to stay there was still everything and everyone back home. If I took the job I would really be leaving behind any hope of returning to my friends, my family, my little apartment that I had worked so hard to make a home in after my disastrous breakup. 

Just the thought of surrendering my apartment forever had my heart aching, and it was the fact that my apartment was the thing that I was most upset about that had me realizing one thing; leaving behind my old life was going to be easy. 

I had lived in so many apartments since I had turned eighteen and moved out. If leaving my apartment was the thing that caused me the most hesitation, I was sure that I could make the rest of it work. All of this brought me to the obvious conclusion; I would say yes. 

Pausing my pacing I turned to look at Azriel again, ready to voice this idea and hope he didn’t think I was insane, when another thought occurred to me. 

He had burst into my room saying that he knew Feyre and Rhys were coming. 

I blinked slowly, processing the myriad of thoughts coursing through my brain in a jumbled swirl, all of them centering around the same thing. 

“Azriel.”

Him and his shadows focused on me, still hesitant and looking ready to run at the first sign of danger. That should’ve been my first clue. The shadow slinger actually looked frightened. He was afraid of me in that moment and that only made my anger start to rise higher. 

Now, I’ve always had a fiery temper. Maybe it was the red hair or maybe the way I just get easily irritated, but it took a lot to make me truly and deeply angry. If my past relationships were any indication, I could put up with a lot of bullshit before I truly snapped. Yet seeing him and his little shadows looking at me like I might explode pushed me from calm to explosion level mad in seconds. 

“What the fuck?” I hissed, fully aware Rhys and Feyre were probably still in the house and would hear if I started shouting. 

“Hailey, it’s not-”

“It’s not what I think?” I finished for him, folding my arms over my chest and cursing how comfortable his worn out tshirt felt on my skin. Obviously I was keeping it, and that only heightened my anger that I would have something to remember him by. I’m a slut for a good tshirt, though, so I couldn’t give it up. I was already emotionally attached to it. “Because what I think is that you came in here knowing that Feyre and Rhys were on their way, fully intent on making sure that this little ruse of our continues, and that everything that happened was just…just…fake!”

And who could blame me for thinking that? In the weeks he had been diligently sleeping on the couch, refusing the giant comfy bed because he was determined to stay way from me, he had made it very clear that he didn’t want anything to do with me for real. All of it was fake and he made sure I knew that every time he touched me in front of them. Him saying those things just to orchestrate the interaction, to make sure they walked in on what they had, was not out of the realm of possibilities. 

“Does this look fucking fake to you?” he asked, gesturing to his still prominent erection. “Do you know how awkward that entire conversation was knowing those two could smell exactly how much I enjoyed your pretty little ass pressed against me? It’s easier to hide when we are pretending and I can control my thoughts to prevent this. Trying to control myself after seeing how your skin flushes, how your eyes get hazy, after hearing those noises you make and the sound of my name on your lips? Hailey, if they hadn’t walked in I would have lost every ounce of control I possess. Don’t you doubt for one second that that was fake.”

I stared at him. 

Everything in me battled an evenly waged war of wanting to believe him and wanting to convince myself this was all a lie. It was easier to think it was fake, to think that there was no danger of anything happening because he didn’t really want me. If he didn’t want me then there was no chance for anything to happen, for me to get hurt, for me to lose another part of me to a man who looked at me as nothing more than a hole to fuck. And yet that romantic part of me that came from the girl who dreamed of true love and happiness her entire life, hoping one day that someone would come along and love her the way she always wanted to be loved, told me to listen to him. 

I didn’t want to get hurt again. I wanted to be loved. Two things could be true at the same time, which was what had me closing my eyes against the delicious sight of an unraveled Azriel so I could think. 

“This is getting complicated,” I whispered. 

A rustle of movement alerted me that he was moving and a moment later his strong arms wrapped tightly around me, pulling me in for a comforting hug. Instinctively I wrapped my arms around his waist, clinging to this male who was the root cause of my confusion. 

I had never been an affectionate person. Being touched was one of those things that I hated, even though my main love language was touched, because of everything I had been through as a kid. There were a handful of people that I allowed to hug me and most of those were only because I loved them enough that I gave in to their need for a hug, never feeling like I actually needed it. 

Azriel, though?

I sank into his embrace and drew comfort from it like nothing I had ever felt before. 

Perhaps it was the weeks we had spent casually touching and the tentative friendship that we had developed along with it that had me feeling more comfortable in his arms than I had in anyones in a very long time. Whatever it was I let it happen, pressing my body into his warmth and burying my face in his chest without a thought as to who he was or why I liked it so much. 

One of his hands buried in my hair, holding my face to his chest in such a comforting yet possessive hold as his lips pressed to the top of my head. The overwhelming feeling of safety filled me like it never had before and it was then that I felt myself break. 

Years of emotions, bottled up and tucked away in that box inside, burst forth demanding to be felt. 

The entirety of the situation and my helplessness in it, the confusion even, had sobs erupting from me before I could suppress them. 

“You’re okay,” Azriel said gently, his voice so soft and soothing compared to what I was used to when he talked to me. “Everything is going to be fine. We’ll figure it out, okay? It’s going to be fine.”

That only caused me to sob harder, tears pouring down my cheeks and my chest feeling like it might rip in two with the emotions I held so nicely in check threatening to tear a hole in me. Crying, let alone crying in front of others, was not something I did and now Azriel had seen it multiple times. Once from sheer panic in the dungeon and now from a full fledged breakdown over…what? Being offered a job? No, it was obviously more than that, but still. 

I cried harder, embarrassed even as it continued and completely unable to stop myself from making a fool of myself. Azriel held me tightly to him, not one complaining or making a move to let go. The familiar sensation of his shadows, cool and tickling, wrapping around my shoulders and settling there almost like a cat draping over me to offer comfort, was what really sent me. 

Whole body shudders accompanied the sobs and my throat ached with them, my heart breaking over something and everything and nothing all at once. 

I barely even noticed when Azriel picked me up to carry me over to the bed, all I knew was that I was suddenly wrapped in the comfort of blankets and shadows and Azriel, all of them wrapped around me as I continued to erupt with all of it. His hands and his shadows ran down my back in a soothing rhythm, whispering words of comfort in my ears and against my skin until finally the sobs subsided into cries, and the cries turned to shaky breaths, and eventually I fell asleep wrapped comfort.

[tangiblejournal56]

8/12/11

Thom & Racha departed yesterday morning, worn out & sunburnt.  After almost a week of constant activity & a full house, our apartment is dark, quiet, & solitary to Jacob & I.  It was my first day off in awhile where I wasn’t experiencing a magnitude of pain, & so my only desire was to do absolutely nothing, to go nowhere & move as little as possible.  My mind was at first as lethargic as my body, but it soon would not shut off, glowing bright & flashing like neon bar lights.  Too many thoughts, too many feelings, all coursing through me, & I was trying to put the events of the past week into some discernible order so that the pieces might make some kind of sense.  Instead, they all kept flying through my mind at random, leaving me bewildered as before.

Racha & I, thick as thieves, walking down the street a distance behind the boys so we could gossip in private.  I told her my game of secretly watching Jacob when he is unaware, how attractive I find him to be simply doing whatever task he is immersed in.  Thom & I, sneaking off at 9:30 with Josh to breakfast at Kerby Lane, without Jacob because Thom didn’t want Jacob to know he’s no longer vegan (as if Jacob would be surprised).  Jacob climbing into my bed & curling around me & I was happy.  I was very happy to be in his arms, & I was forgetting why that was a bad thing.  Why I’m not supposed to like that as much as I do.  I was upset at having to get up for work that morning, I’d wanted to stay with my head on his chest, his beard tickling my forehead.  Then Wednesday night, as Josh & Racha slept in my bed, Thom in the living room.  Jacob offered me his bed.  We didn’t touch, though I would’ve liked to.  “Last night was…” I started, lost for the right word.  “Yeah, it was…” he repeated, trailing.  “Strange,” I said finally, & he agreed.  “We thought you might enjoy it,” I said lamely, unable to say what I really wanted, which would’ve been hard to translate from the jumbled mess in my head to a clear, sane statement.  So we slept.

Thom & Racha left soon after we woke, & Jacob asked me to walk to the gas station with him.  I was quiet & contemplative all day long, lost in my head & unable to concentrate.  Every once in awhile he’d look at me, “You okay?” & I’d smile, “Fine.”

At the end of the night we started a round of dice, & I must’ve looked pretty bad off because he became more persistent in asking me if I was okay, concern written all over his unlikely green eyes, boring right into my own blue eyes.  I told him I was fine, that my mind goes all wonky sometimes, & asked if he ever had that, where his mind won’t shut off?  “Maybe I’d know what you were talking about if you told me what you were thinking about?” he suggested.

Tell him?  Spell out for him how confused I am, how I could be in love with Max, constantly thinking of Max, & yet develop these feelings for Jacob I’m not supposed to have, how I’m pretty much unbearably attracted to him, how I just want to sit & watch him for the thrill of it.  How it actually pleased me, yes, that bad place in me, that when Racha sat astride him he seemed uncomfortable, how more & more I am bothered by the image of them kissing in my mind, how I hoped Jacob’s attraction to her ceased the moment she cheated on her boyfriend with him.  How awful I am for that.  How happy it made me that when she left the room he became animated, vocal, he emitted pleasure from only me.  How it saddened me that he is like Max in that he doesn’t care for physical contact after sex, how it bothers me that I miss that in Ryan.  How, after all of this time, it hurts still not to have Ryan, & it hurts that something exists in the world tying him to myself for all of time.  How I miss Max with an intensity that scares me, that causes me to start crying at bus stops, how I need to be around him like breathing, how he keeps me going, makes me forget all of this other bullshit.  Does Jacob like me?  Could he?  Do I really like him now or is it the sex haze, now that we’ve had good sex finally?  Am I really just finally losing it, unable to mask the crazy anymore, or is everyone like this at some point in their lives?  Will it ever cease, or am I doomed always to jump headfirst into catastrophe?

Tell him all of that?  Uh.  No.  No, thank you.  Worst thing is, I wanted to.  I wanted to be able to spill out everything in me that troubled me.  He looked worried, genuinely wanting to help me.  I told him I was sorry, that I wasn’t trying to play games or get attention from him, & he said he knew that.  I believed him.  I almost said something to him, but Josh came in & whatever might’ve slipped out was slammed shut behind the doors of my mind.  He knew something was wrong.  That’s all.

Josh leaves in the morning for Iowa, flying out for Sammie’s birthday.  Leaving Jacob & I entirely alone for a few days.  Watch my imagination roam.  What I want, nights of Jacob & I together in my bed, not being alone.  He was interested by my telling him I’d never been on a real, out-on-the-town first date, dinner & movies kind of thing, that it had always been just hanging out at someone’s house.  If there even was a date.  We had been laughing at my bothersome work hat & the idiotic button on the side declaring I’d passed my register training.  How much I hate it.  I smiled sadly, said “Yep, that’s my worth in the world.  I can pass a register training test & I’m the girl you take to Cici’s on your first date.”  Referring to where the Caveman had wanted to take me, the McDonald’s of pizza buffets.  I’d thought him joking when he said that’s where he’d take me on our first date, then I’d wanted to cry when I realized he was serious, & followed it with telling me he wanted to get high beforehand.  I thought, that is what I’m worth?  The realization stung.  Jacob refuted this, “Oh come on, that’s not your worth!” he protested.  I shrugged.  Apparently this was my lot.  And I wanted to cry.  Am I doomed forever to never be the girl men want to commit romantic, dulcet acts for, just for the pleasure of seeing me smile?  I don’t want Ryan to be my only adult relationship in which I was treated like a real woman, it makes me miss him & that I don’t want.  No one else can see this?  Or cares enough to do it, I guess.

Like an Al Green song on repeat, I am so tired of being alone.  I really am.  Not physically, sex is increasingly becoming something I care less & less about.  Physically, emotionally, I want someone to be there with me, someone to hold my damn hand when we walk down the street, someone to lean my head against in the night.  A boy to share the true world with me.  Someone to tell me I’m not going crazy when I most feel I am.

I wish I could go up to Jacob & ask him to pretend, just for one day, that I was loved & cherished by him, to do this so I can remember again what it is like to mean something to someone, to be a part of something, not just this singular shape hurtling around with no armor, no end.  I don’t want to be alone in my night anymore.  It’s too much.  I am tired & weak & cannot keep my head above the water.  I don’t even want to.  It all seems pointless.  I’m in the dark cave, searching for a light that went out a long time ago.

And among all this longing & coveting of thy roommate, I am awash with guilt toward Max.  I know I am not his, or at least, that I am not his girlfriend, & yet I feel it is a betrayal whenever I am with anyone other than him.  I know that if I were his I could be entirely faithful, no one else would even catch my eye.  I wish I could do that now, but some inner stubbornness won’t allow me to ignore opportunities that present themselves, when he purports again & again to not feel romantically for me.  Self-preservation, I guess, but even that sounds like exaggeration.  Most of the time it feels good to garner that attention, to be made to feel pretty for a little while.

This great gaping hole at the center of me, that dead spot Max & I talked about.  How it grows.  I call him just to hear his voice, to curb my loneliness for a few moments, knowing the conversation will be short.  My growing fear that he no longer needs me, that he is becoming totally independent of me, that he will no longer need me to talk to, to show his work to, to gain confidence & strength from.  What do I do then, if the only person who needs me no longer has a use for me?  I have no purpose to serve of my own, & I don’t know how to just exist on my own.  I feel lost, I want to cry.  I don’t know how to deal with these feelings.

How to admit to myself that I sometimes am the girl who confuses sex with feelings.  Not with Max, I would love him & find ways to pretend he wants me even if our relationship were platonic.  And Jacob, I longed for him for what, four years now?  Since the day I met him, his moptop of curls he’d had then, that casual way he’s always physically comfortable with an arm around me, how upon meeting we laid across Thom’s bed together, his arm behind my head thoughtfully, how I’d felt he was attracted to me even then, before he knew I was with Ryan.  My curiosity, had I not been with Ryan then if something would have transpired.  So many months of emo turmoil while he was with Brooke, wanting him, wanting him to want me.  So often he seemed like the only one who saw me, really saw me, was interested in me as a person.  He has a way of making you feel good bout yourself, how he gets excited to hear what you have to say.  The only sign you’ll get if he doesn’t like you is a certain indifference, a distance.  He won’t care what you have to say, he will be distracted & looking for something to catch his eye.  I’ve never been on the receiving end of this, but I’ve witnessed it happen to others, including Brooke.

Sometimes it does feel like I can see him unraveling parts of me like a ball of twine, pulling here & there to discover who I am.  I can read his pleasure when he discovers something he likes about me, something he hadn’t known & endears me to him.  It’s in those moments that I wonder if there’s enough of those happy surprises to create something tangible from.  Though I know, right now Jacob just wants to meet girls, nothing serious, & I am not his physical type, not very skinny & pretty (I cling to the times when he says different, like that first time we slept together, “What, I mean, you’re attractive!” or when he insisted I wear my white skirt because of how good I looked in it), nor am I vegan, or willing to become.  But I do surprise him occasionally, & I know our friendship makes him happy.  Those cards I make him, he tells me how much they mean to him.  Always willing to play board games, to adhere to silly plans.  I wonder what he will do on my birthday, he’s never once celebrated mine, the same as Thom & Eric.  That always stung a bit, how Racha & I would always do something to make their birthdays special, & though they would do something for her, my birthday would drift past with no acknowledgment further than “Happy birthday Jamie!”  If even that.  It’s trite, & childish, but honest.  A feeling of being less loved.  Like when I spent all night helping Thom & Eric make their Boy Meets World merchandise & yet on the album inserts, they thank everyone but me.  Not pointedly, it was as though they simply forgot me.  Like I was air.  I was never important to them.  To Thom now maybe, because I am always there for him, but he’ll never forgive my years-long crush on Jacob & not on him.  Not really due to any feelings he may have for me, but because, like Shawn, he does not like for anyone else to be more important or desired than himself.  I knew I was never an important friend to Eric, but it did bother me that neither Thom nor Jacob would ever care enough to make my birthday memorable as they do for each other & Racha.  The outsider feeling.  I worry he will disregard this birthday as well, cementing my loneliness.  He did more for Josh’s birthday, his first one since they became friends, than in the four I’ve had since we met.  Childishly, that hurts.  So many stupid things anymore.  I feel constantly on the edge of crying.  I am tense & jumpy & irritable, & I hate those feelings.  I can’t trust myself these days.

I don’t want to be so alone anymore.

[deucebox]

: ̗̀➛ our sweet adorable… child? wait-

scaramouche x reader

fluff

794 words

note: scara referred to reader as the kid’s mom once but they/them pronouns still used. not really proofread hehe.

you didn’t know that having a kid around would allow you the opportunity to witness another side of scaramouche you thought you would never see.

scaramouche could only look at you with furrowed brows with his arms crossed on his chest. “the hell is that?” he scoffed.

“a… child?” you answered unsurely with a hint of ‘isn’t-it-obvious?’ tone, hugging the frame of the little girl closer to your body.

the young man clicked his tongue in annoyance, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground. “where did you get it?”

“she spawned from the sky— for archon’s sake, i have no idea either!” you snapped back and cleared your throat after. “but really, i was looking at the stalls in the market a while ago when she suddenly held my hand and tagged along. i tried asking where her parents are but she seems to not know and i’m guessing she’s around four years old?”

he scanned the girl in your grasp and the kid stared back innocently. she turned her body to his direction and stretched out her arms.

you chuckled and walked closer to scaramouche and he reluctantly held her. “what’s your name, little one?” he inquired warily.

“yuina!” she cheerfully answered, craning her neck to the side and gazed curiously at the red strings dangling from his hat.

yuina leaned forward and rested her chin on scaramouche’s shoulder and reached out to pull the string downward, causing him to throw his head back a bit and you stifled a laugh.

scaramouche groaned and immediately went to lecture her. yuina couldn’t help but pout sadly as her ears took in all his scolding.

“kunikuzushi.”

his head snaps towards you upon sensing the emphasis of threat in your voice. you irritatedly signaled him to look at yuina’s state and so he did.

scaramouche stared at her glossy eyes, red nose, and flushed cheeks while trying not to let out a sob.

his eyes widened slightly for a fraction of second before stuttering out an apology. “s-sorry. don’t cry, yuina. i’m not mad at you, hush now.” he gently pats her head before proceeding to wipe away her tears with his thumb.

“k-kuni…zuhi…?” she imitated but only jumbled her own words.

“you’ll get it right next time,” he sighed.

“kuni made my yuina upset? what should we do to get back at him?” you joked and squeezed her chubby cheeks softly.

“‘m hungry.” yuina cheekily smiled. with her simple gesture, both you and scaramouche were stunned for a moment with how cute she is.

“then let’s make kunikuzushi pay for our food!” you suggested and scaramouche could only let out a huff.

“yuina,” she pointed at herself and you two pay attention to what she was going to say next. “papa… mama…” she then pointed at scaramouche and then you.

“ridiculous. we are not your paren—mhmp!” you gently slapped his mouth shut and just nodded at her. “we can be your second mom and dad, yuina! we’ll take care of you.” you reassured and she let out a small ‘yay!’

he reached out in his pocket and fished out a chocolate candy. scaramouche unwraps it with one hand and brought it closer to yuina’s face.

she instinctively reaches for it but scaramouche brings his hand further away, making the child whine. “ah-ah-ah. if your hands get dirty, you might wipe it on my clothes. let me feed it to you instead.” he reasons out, voice uncharacteristically soft and gentle.

“how come you never feed me affectionately like that?” you shamelessly sputtered and he grimaced at your statement. “grow up, y/n.” he snarled, bringing back his attention to yuina as she gratefully munched on the treat.

“could be saying the same thing to you,” you whispered. “what?” he glared. “nothing!”

“don’t be like your mom, they’re always so mean to me.” he feigned hurt and yuina giggled before agreeing, scaramouche smiled in victory before insisting a high-five with her.

“why are you teaming up on me now, huh?” you playfully scrunched your nose disappointingly.

“let’s leave y/n now and we’ll buy you whatever you want to eat, yes? good.” he insisted.

yuina happily booped scaramouche’s nose. he stilled in shock and for once today, he breaks and smiles.

“feeling bold now, are we?” he teased and lowered his head a bit so that his nose could touch hers. being a witness of this tugged your heartstrings in the best way possible and you could just melt there and then at the sight.

you didn’t even notice that they were both looking at you expectantly. “are you just going to stare at us and not eat?” he sassed and you excitedly walked to his right side, your hand finding its way to hold his unoccupied hand.

perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad if you and scaramouche keep yuina for the rest of the day.

and if i suddenly kill yuina then what

just kidding hehe. scaramouche’s backstory was my main reason for writing this in one sitting and i hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i do!

i really really hope this was to your liking nakskkw rbs are greatly appreciated ty ily pls take care *smooches*

[dreamerstreamer]

A Terrible Tutor

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [High School!AU] He’s cocky, annoying, a total tease, has a laugh loud enough to shake the stars, and you hate him. But as luck would have it, he’s also your tutor.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: minor cursing

A/N: this is based on a classmate i had way back! (we did not fall in love. he was awful.) i’ve also never taken physics, but i tried something a bit new for the reader’s personality. i hope you enjoy :) <3

You glared down at your physics textbook, the open pages staring back up at you with beady eyes made of diagrams and labels. Off to the side, your notebook was strewn across your desk, a list of questions scribbled across the top line in a hurried rush. The handwriting was messier than you would have liked, but the thought didn’t irritate you.

What did irritate you was that it was nearly half past four, and your so-called tutor still hadn’t shown up.

You could still envision the concerned look on Mr. Craftson’s face as he held you back a moment after class, watching as the rest of your classmates poured out of the door with an anxious look. He had offered you a kind smile before pulling out your test from the week before, and you winced at the numerous red marks scattered across the front page alone.

“I know you’ve been struggling in this class,” he said, gazing at you almost pitifully.

You tried not to glower at the sight of his apologetic eyes trained on you, instead nodding your head slowly. “It’s been… hard,” you said slowly.

He leaned an arm on his chair, pushing your test toward you. “You ask questions in class,” he hummed, “and from what I’ve seen, you complete your homework diligently.” His smile fell. “Yet here you are me, with the lowest mark in my class.”

You wanted to shrivel up into a ball. Maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but he wasn’t wrong, either.

At your silence, he prodded at you. “Is there anything going on at home that might be hindering you, or…?”

You whipped your head up, your eyes wide. “No! Things are—things are great. It’s just…”

You swallowed, then sighed, fidgeting your fingers on your lap. “I guess,” you murmured, trying to quell the shame flaring up inside you, “I’ve just been really struggling with the material, and none of it’s really been clicking.”

Mr. Craftson’s face softened in an instant. “That’s alright. Thank you for being honest with me. If my teaching hasn’t been working out with you…”

He paused, rubbing at the blond stubble on his chin for a moment. Then, his face lit up and he leaned forward. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ve got a great student who I think might be able to explain things to you in a way you might be able to grasp a little better. He’s got the best marks in this class.”

Your eyes widened. The best in the class? He had to be a genius.

“I have a good feeling he can meet you tomorrow at four after school to help you out,” he continued, leaning against the arm rest of his office chair. “What do you say?”

You blinked, a thoughtful look passing over your face. Lord knew you needed the help—you were practically failing the class—but an uneasy stone settled into the pit of your stomach. You’ve never needed tis much help to pass a class before. The thought made you want to gag. Slowly, you opened your mouth.

“Do I have to…” You gestured vaguely. “Pay him or something?”

His cerulean eyes blinked at you for a second, then he laughed—the kind of deep-belly laugh only teachers seemed to be able to have. “No, no,” he said, waving his hand at you, “not at all. He’s a good kid. He wouldn’t do something like that.”

You bobbed your head, your insides crumbling. You didn’t want to accept, you really didn’t. Part of you guys wanted to believe that you could just work harder, study by yourself even more. You were a dedicated student, and you were doing just fine in all your other classes. Surely the content couldn’t get that much harder, right?

But as your gaze lowered to the red ink staining your test once more, you felt yourself swallowing the lump in your throat. Straightening your back, you let your stubborn pride seep out of your shoulders and onto the floor.

It looked like this was a sacrifice you were simply going to have to make.

“Thank you so much for the offer,” you said, letting your lips curl up into a genuine, grateful smile. “It—it really means a lot.”

Mr. Craftson grinned at you, an easygoing flint shining in his eyes. “Of course. You’re a bright student. Sometimes we all just need a little push.”

You could still remember shaking his hand in thanks before bundling your stuff in your arms and shuffling into the hall, tucking your feet between the pages of your textbook. That had been yesterday, and now, the same one was sitting on your desk, open to a new page full of jumbled words you could hardly decipher.

The chair across from you was distinctly empty.

He—whoever he was—was late.

You distantly wondered to yourself who your tutor even was, your gaze drifting down to your textbook. Mr. Craftson had said he was the best student taking the class. Would it be George? He always seemed like he knew what was going on, and he never really asked questions. But sometimes, he looked like he was just zoning out. Maybe it was Technoblade. He was smart. You paused, then shook your head. No, everyone knew he was one of those English kids.

The thought made you furrow your brows, wracking your head even more. The words on the page grew muddled and fuzzy as you thought even more. Just who was it?

Just then, you heard the classroom door swing open with the same loud creak every door in the school seemed to have. The sound of heavy breaths and panting filled the air, then a haggard voice spoke up.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

You didn’t look up from your page, letting a sigh escape your lips as you lifted your head. Plastering a polite smile to your face, you let your gaze travel toward your tutor. “Hi, it’s nice to me—”

Suddenly, your voice died in your throat as your eyes locked onto the figure standing in the doorway. Towering over the desks with a duffel bag resting against his hip, his dirty blond locks were damp and matted against his forehead, his emerald eyes blinking at you. Something bitter and warm twisted in your gut at the sight, and the smile dropped off your face and into a scowl.

“Oh,” you said flatly. “It’s you.”

The smile he offered you was easygoing, but you didn’t miss the strain in his gaze. “It’s me.”

You bit on the inside of your cheek, your heart practically revolting against your rib cage with the way it was hammering. A million questions were darting around the inside of your skull, only making your blood boil even more with each passing second.

Of all the people you had expected to show up, Clay was easily the last.

The two of you had first met back in freshman year in your first science class—he had sat behind you and had the loudest laugh on the planet, or so you were convinced. You were quieter back then, but just as stubborn and snappish as now. Soon enough, one thing led to another, and you swore the two of you were suddenly enemies for life.

Although you couldn’t remember what had caused your little feud, you knew that he was the one who started it. He was loud and kicked your chair, he just loved to borrow your pens and never return them, and you could never figure out just why he loved to tease you so much. You don’t think you learned a single thing in that class, always distracted by the presence staring a hole into your back, and you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Naturally, that meant your teacher assigned him to sit behind you for the rest of the year. To this day, you were convinced she hated you, and you still avoided her in the halls.

To say that science class was your least favourite would be an understatement, and soon enough, everybody was in on your hatred for each other. Clay never seemed to stop pestering you no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, and you would never forget the day you finally snapped at him, whipping around to glare at him with your cheeks on fire.

“Will you please shut up?”

The shocked look on his face was still burned into your memory as it melted into a wide, proud grin.

“Only if you make me.”

Even years later, he always seemed to find a way to worm himself back into your life, and you hated it. You hated him, simple as that.

So, seeing him standing in front of you like this, it took every ounce of your strength to keep your voice as neutral as possible.

“What took you so long?”

He patted his duffel bag before slipping it off his shoulder and setting it on the ground. “I just finished football practice. Coach ran a little long and I figured it would be polite to take a shower before so I didn’t smell all sweaty when I tutored you.”

You blinked, your mouth falling open. That explained his wet hair, you guessed. While you were vaguely flattered, you were distracted by something else. “You knew that you would be tutoring me?”

Clay nodded, pulling back the chair in front of you. “Yeah. Phil asked me.”

You gaped. “You call Mr. Craftson by his first name?”

His smile was a touch too smug for your liking, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. “Maybe. I was surprised when he asked, though.” He wrinkled his nose and shot you a teasing smirk as he sat down. “I didn’t think you would be failing this class.”

You glowered, that same bitter feeling bubbling up in your chest, again. “I’m not failing,” you snapped. “I’m just…” You paused, your cheeks growing hot. “…not passing.”

He gave you a deadpan look, then laughed. “That’s the same thing.”

You sent him a gesture that your teacher most certainly would have scolded you for if he was here, and he laughed even harder. You were suddenly reminded of just how damn loud his laugh was, sounding like fireworks in your ears. Slumping over, you hung your head in your hands.

“Ugh. I can’t believe you knew you were going to be tutoring me of all people.” You paused, then added, “I can’t believe you agreed.”

He tilted his head at you, brushing his damp hair out of his face. “Did you not know I was gonna be your tutor?”

“No.” You frowned. “If I did, I wouldn’t have shown up.”

His eyes flickered with mirth as a smile stretched across his face. “Aw, am I really that disagreeable?”

“Yes,” you said immediately, your gaze as sharp as a blade. “Without a doubt. A hundred percent. I didn’t even have to think about it.”

He whistled, feigning a wince. “Harsh.”

Wryly, you said, “You deserve it.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I wasn’t that bad as a freshman, was I?”

You gave him a hard, callous stare. “Do you really think I’m the one you should be asking that question?”

He thought about it for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, point taken.”

You dragged a hand over your face, then pointed at your textbook. “Are you going to teach me now or what? We’re already behind.”

He winced for real this time, and you almost felt bad for him. Almost. “Sorry, again.”

“Seriously,” you muttered under your breath, reaching into your back to grab your pencil case, “and to think that you have the highest grades in this class.”

“Hey,” he shot back, “I’m brains and brawn.”

You shot him a look that was nothing short of disgusted. He cringed a little at the sight.

“Okay, that was cheesy, but I’m not wrong. Besides, coach says I have to keep my grades up or else I’m off the team.” He leaned closer to you, and you tried to ignore the feeling of his hot breath fanning over your skin. “You know I can’t let everyone down like that.”

You looked unconvinced. “Uh huh. Totally.” Whipping out a pencil, you tapped at the bottom of the page you had open. “Can you explain this to me, now? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.”

He quietly chuckled, and you hated how soft it sounded. Leaning closer to the textbook to read, his lips mouthed the problem silently. You tried not to stare at his mouth as it moved, your gaze tracing over the soft dip of his lips as his viridian eyes flashed with recognition. A moment later, he sat back and cocked his head at you.

“So, what exactly do you not understand?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Everything.”

He blinked, disbelief colouring his features. “Everything? Like, the whole thing?”

You scowled. “I thought that was obvious. All that stuff about velocity and the funny diagrams—” You shook your head. “—none of it makes sense.”

He raised a brow at you. “I thought you were paying attention in class. You really don’t understand a single thing?”

You bit back the urge to scream. “It’s not like you’re much smarter.”

Clay snorted derisively. “I am. That’s kind of the whole point.”

You groaned, letting your voice ring out in the quiet of the empty classroom. You caught a glimpse of his amused smile in front of you, and it only made you groan louder.

“You’re the one who ruined science for me, you know? I hated going to that class, and look at me now.” You gestured to yourself, using your finger to draw a ring in the air. “It all comes full circle.”

There was a brief second of silence. “I’m the reason why you hate science?”

You didn’t budge. “I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy knowing I was going to be stuck in a class with someone who never gave me my stuff back and kicked my chair.”

Another wave of silence washed over the two of you, but this one was tense—heavy. He swallowed, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“You…” His eyes swirled with something sad and honest. “You really hate me that much?”

He suddenly looked a lot like a kicked puppy, and a pang of guilt shot through your chest like a bullet. With a panicked gaze, your voice grew shaky as you spoke. “I—I don’t hate you. I just… I had a grudge, I guess.”

Your tone grew soft, and you lowered your gaze to your lap. “I… I really didn’t like you back then, but things have changed.” You offered him a small smile, but it felt shy. “We’re not exactly fourteen, anymore.”

He returned your smile with one of his own. Just like yours, it was small and tender, and it sent something stirring in the depths of your belly. “No,” he murmured, “we’re not.”

“I,” you breathed, gulping down the last dredges of your grudge, “was stubborn back then.” You raised a shoulder. “In a way, I still am. I have too much pride for my own good too, but I don’t hate you.” The look you sent him had a spark of mischief, and his breath hitched. “Strongly dislike, at best.”

Clay blinked at you, looking half-surprised and half-awed at you. You squirmed under his gaze before he snapped out of his stupor, almost bashfully ducking his head. “I’m… It’s definitely too late for me to say this now when I really should have said it all those years ago, but I’m sorry. Really. I was a dick.”

You snorted under your breath, fondly mumbling, “Yeah, you were.”

His face perked up at the sound of your bitten back laugh. “I really shouldn’t have teased you so much. My reasons were… dumb.”

You cocked a brow at him, almost as if to say, Oh? Do elaborate.

But instead, you watched as his ears burned crimson red and he flashed you a pair of bright, pleading eyes. “Forgive me? Please.”

Your heart leapt into your throat, something new and warm bursting along the seams of your lungs. You couldn’t possibly say no to a face like that. Even the toughest person on the planet would crack under a look as sincere as that, you tried to reason, ultimately letting out a sigh with a stammer.

“O-Only if you actually can get me to understand this unit.” Pushing down the heat creeping up your neck, you pointed at him with an accusatory look. “Until then, you’re on thin ice.”

The grin he sent you was beyond dazzling—you couldn’t have brought yourself to look away even if you wanted to.

(And you didn’t.)

“Gotcha.”

Clay finished scribbling a diagram onto the new page of your notebook, flicking his thumb back to reveal the hordes of previous pages you had filled with other practice problems. If you were being honest, you were a little envious of just how neat his drawings were. No one should be able to draw a line as straight as that without a ruler, yet here he was, doing exactly that.

What a show-off.

Feeling your eyes on him, Clay lifted his head to catch your gaze, turning the notebook to face you. You tried to pretend the stumbling of your heart wasn’t because of him—not at all. “Do you get it?” he breathed.

You glanced back and forth between him and your page, your grip on your pencil falling slack. “I think so,” you said slowly. “Mostly, at least.”

He hummed for a moment, then flipped your notebook around until it was facing him again and holding an expectant, open hand toward you. Without even thinking, you dropped your pencil into his palm, a spark running up your fingers at the slight brush of his skin against yours. Carefully, he wrote a string of words on a new line, circling the sentence when he was done.

“Here,” he said gently, pushing the pencil back between your fingers, “try this question. This was one of the harder ones from my test.”

Gingerly, you peered down at the page, and your mouth fell open at the sight. This question was far more complicated than anything you had been solving in the textbook before this. What was he thinking?

“If you get it right,” he said suddenly, casting you out of your thoughts, “you should be all set.” His lips curved up into a taunting, knowing grin. “But it’s okay if you don’t get it—it is difficult, after all.”

You stared for a second longer, then grumbled under your breath. How could he read your mind like that? You were going to prove him wrong, even if only to knock that smug look off his face.

Leaning down, you tackled the problem head on, your pencil flying across the page as you spelled out formulas and equations, doodling a diagram when you had to and pausing to think every other breath. Before you, you didn’t see Clay watching you with a soft, tender gaze, taking in the way your fingers fidgeted against your pencil when you stopped and how you chewed on your mouth when you got nervous.

You really were more endearing than you could ever know.

Suddenly, you let your pencil clatter against the table as you pushed your notebook toward him, eyeing your pencil scratches with a wary look. “Done.”

His viridian eyes gleamed with excitement. “Alright,” he said, plucking the paper from your desk with a practiced ease, “let’s take a look.”

His gaze scanned your work intently, his lips pressed together in focus. You folded your hands onto your lap, trying to focus on his analysis of you work. But the longer you looked, the more you felt your gaze trailing up to graze his cheeks. Did he always have so many freckles? You didn’t remember seeing him with this many as a freshman, but you also spent more time glaring at him than staring at him back then.

In a way, he was kind of... pretty. Handsome, even. Not that you would ever say it out loud.

You suddenly had a strong urge to reach up and trace feather-light lines between each of his freckles, but before you could even take another breath, Clay’s eyes were on yours again. Unlike earlier, the look on his face was grave, and a small grimace overtook his features.

“I have bad news,” he said dryly.

Your heart fell.

Of course you got something wrong. You were a fool to think that things would change just because Clay would be teaching you instead.

But then, his grimace curled up at the corners, and your jaw dropped.

“I have nothing left to teach you in this unit.”

Your eyes widened.

“I got it right?”

He turned the notebook back to face you. A large check mark had been scribbled in pencil along the side of the page, a tiny smiley face decorating the corner next to it.

“Perfectly.”

The gasp you let out sent you barrelling for your feet, and you nearly started jumping for joy in the middle of your seat. “Yes!” you cried, pumping a hand up in the air. Suddenly, you whirled to point at Clay, a pout forming on your lips. “Oh my god, you scared the crap out of me! Don’t do that.”

He chuckled, leaning back with his hands up defensively. “Sorry, sorry. I saw the opportunity and just had to take it.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you stuck your tongue out at him. “You’re terrible.”

His eyes softened—sincere and sweet. “I know.”

Ignoring the sudden burst of warmth rushing through your veins, you huffed at him. “Well, at least I have two pieces of good news for you. First,” you said, sliding your notebook off your desk, “we can both go home, now.”

“And the second?” he prompted, looking at you inquisitively.

You folded your notebook shut, boring a hole into your backpack with the intensity of your stare. You couldn’t look at him right now, you just couldn’t.

“Second,” you nearly whispered, “I accept your apology.”

Slipping your textbook into your bag, you heard him take a sharp intake of breath. “Really?”

You reached for your pencil case, fumbling with the zipper. “Yes.”

There was another breath, but this one was gentler, less harsh. You peeked up at him from your bag, and your heart stuttered at the ecstatic look on his face.

“This,” he said, “is the greatest day of my life.”

You blinked wildly at him, zipping your backpack up all the way before slinging it onto the desk. “That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, his smile never once faltering. “Are you kidding? I thought you were going to hate my guts forever!”

You shrugged, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I might have.” You paused. “Actually, I probably would have. But luckily for you—” You shot him a sincere look. “—not anymore.”

His grin grew impossibly wider, yet it somehow still looked natural on him. Deep down, a part of you wanted to bottle up his expression and remember it for as long as you lived.

“Like I said, greatest day of my life.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Weirdo.”

Pushing in your chair and gesturing for him to stand, you jutted your head toward the door. Clay didn’t need to be queued twice before he was rising to his feet, pushing the chair back to its rightful spot before heaving his duffel bag off the floor and onto his side. As the two of you headed out towards the door, a bought suddenly flickered across your head, and your lips began moving before you could even begin to think.

“One of these days, you need to tell me why you liked to pick on me so much. Like, seriously, why me?” You gestured to yourself as the two of you stepped outside into the school hallway. “I’m not exactly special.”

You hadn’t been looking at him in that moment, focused on closing the door behind you, but when he didn’t respond for a moment, you looked up and felt your lungs tighten. You had never seen Clay look so bashful in his life, with his ears flaring crimson red and a faint rosy tint dusting the panes of his cheeks. His freckles were only more noticeable with the pink background, and you nearly blurted something you knew you would regret.

“Maybe I’ll—” He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Before you could even ask what he meant by that, he was firing off once more. “In the meantime, if you still need help, I don’t mind coming in again next week or something.”

You nearly took a double take. Next week? He wanted to help you, again?

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you asked, scanning him with wide, curious eyes. “Like studying your own stuff.”

“You’re important,” he said abruptly.

You choked on your spit, and by the way he went absolutely stock still in front of you, you had a feeling he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Oh,” you whispered.

That warm, fuzzy feeling from earlier was rising between your lungs again, only this time it sent your heart racing around your chest. Sucking in a deep breath, you nodded your head once, twice.

“Sure,” you managed to say as calmly as you could. “The, um, the next unit looks a little confusing, so I might need some help.”

Clay’s face suddenly brightened at your soft request for assistance, and you caught his shoulders slumping with relief as he smiled. “Awesome.” He paused, then waved his hand. “Not the part about you needing help, I mean.”

You laughed a little at that, your nerves calming a bit more. “I would hope not.”

He smiled back at you. “So,” he said, drawing out the syllable, “I’ll be back same time next week?”

You couldn’t help but reach over to elbow him a little playfully. “Try to be on time though, yeah?”

He flushed a bit, but cracked a crooked grin nonetheless. “I’ll try my best.” He glanced over his shoulder down the hall, and you suddenly realized you would be heading in the opposite direction.

“I’ll see you around?” he murmured gently, brushing away his now dry hair from his forehead.

One of your hands tightened around the straps of your bag while the other waved back at him. “See you.”

With one last grin at you, you watched as he turned on his heel, striding down the hall with his duffel bag bouncing against the side of his hip. Just then, your eyes grew wide, and you cupped your hands around your mouth to call after him.

“One last thing, Clay!” you shouted, your voice echoing down the empty corridor.

At the sound of his name, he whipped around again, his brows knitted together. Breathing in deeply, you screwed your eyes shut and called out once more.

“Thank you!”

When you opened your eyes again, his emerald green eyes were blinking at you with wild abandon, his lips parted in what could only be described as a look of pure wonder. Your heart skipped a beat, and you wondered why he was looking at you of all people like that.

Swallowing, he sent you a lopsided, earnest smile and cupped his own hands around his mouth to shout back at you.

“Anytime!”

You kept waving at him even after he let his arms drop back to his sides and he vanished around the corner of the hall. Almost immediately, you bent over to bury your head into your knees, letting out a soft, muffled yell.

Why did your chest feel so warm when he looked at you like that? Why did you want to count his freckles so badly when he smiled? Was he always so nice, so helpful and kind? Why did he look so cute when his face flushed all pink like the way it did before? When did he become so endearing instead of annoying?

Did you like him?

You let out another muffled cry into your hands, feeling heat flood every part of your body like a tidal wave crashing into your system. You could hear your heart ringing in your ears like a bell that wouldn’t ever stop, and your toes curled into your shoes.

You had so, so many questions, none of which you knew how to solve.

Hopefully Clay could help you figure out the answers.

[seriouslysnape]

Perfect Resolution

Harry Potter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Language. 

Word Count: 1,641

“Good. You deserved that after today.”

“Even when you’re being stubborn, you’re still my pretty girl.” Harry huffed out, his voice strained when you slammed back down onto his lap in a particularly rough way, the tip of his cock pounding at your g-spot.

Your brain was mush at this point. Every thought that crossed your mind was occupied by either Harry or your goal to achieve the orgasm that he was helping you towards. Harry looked so good right now. His hair was unruly and ruffled in every direction from where your hands had untidied it from being wrapped in it. You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his famous scar without ever breaking the rhythm of your hips.

You had been rather difficult today. It hadn’t been your best day, and everything had seemingly gone wrong since the moment you had gotten up that morning. You had been sour with him all day, brushing him off and barking at him for the most innocent intentions. He had been trying to get through to you all day, trying to make you feel better. But even Harry, who was the most patient person you knew, would crack eventually. The last straw was drawn when you had blown up at him for attempting to help you study for your Transfiguration exam that you were totally screwed for.

“I don’t need your fucking help, Harry!” You had basically screamed at him, causing him to recoil completely. 

He had been standing next to where you were sitting at your desk, rubbing your back soothingly and pointing out things in your notes when you got stuck on something. He hadn’t expected you to respond so harshly to him just trying to help, and honestly he had enough with your attitude for one day.

Without another word, he had yanked you up from your chair, sitting in it himself and pulling you onto his lap. He murmured something about “fucking the attitude right out of you”; something that he didn’t do very often. He had pushed you over the edge the first time with just his fingers, pumping and curling his fingers until you were writhing around his hand. Now he was repeatedly being buried deep inside of you each time you crashed back down onto him.

Even though he was aggravated with you, he knew that you had just been frustrated all day. He wanted you to feel better, because he could never stay mad at you. Still, he hadn’t quite worked through all the irritation.

“You take my cock so well, don’t you?” He practically groaned out, “Just like you took my fingers just a few minutes ago...you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You hadn’t said anything in a while, your thoughts too preoccupied to form any kind of coherent response to what he was saying to you. Your eyes were screwed shut, so tightly that you were seeing inky blotches behind your eyelids. Your head was tilted upwards to the ceiling as you focused on the way he was stretching and filling your slick walls so perfectly. He was meeting your bounces with his upward thrusts, hitting every sensitive spot that had melted you into a whimpering puddle.

It wasn’t until his hand gripped your chin to force you to look at him that your eyes opened and you snapped out of your trance.

“Are you not going to answer me?” He asked gruffly when you didn’t give any kind of reply.

Your head fluttered as your dilated pupils met his lust blown ones. You were breathless as you spoke, your chest heaving with each rapid inhale of oxygen that you took. 

“Sorry, Harry. What’d you say?” You asked him to repeat, your own voice echoing in your ears.

Instead, Harry shot up from the chair without removing his throbbing cock out of you. Your wobbly legs were pitiful as he brought you to your feet, pressing the front of your hips into the desk and pulling your back against his front. 

“Since you can’t get it together, I guess I’m going to have to fuck you into your desk.” He growled, pushing your skirt up and chuckling lowly in your ear at the reminder that his favorite pair of your lace knickers had been discarded long ago. 

The wooden material of your desk dug into your skin, but you were too focused on the delicious feeling of Harry fucking in and out of you to even notice. Your palms gripped the edge of the desk, your eyes raking over the countless parchments of Transfiguration notes in front of you. The words were blurred jumbles of letters, and you couldn’t comprehend what any of it said to save your life right now.

Harry was fucking you hard and fast, pulling out almost completely each time before railing back into you. He kept one hand on your waist to keep you from straying away from him, since sometimes you tended to squirm. His other hand cupped one of your breasts, playing with the stimulated nipple. Your orgasm was heating up and pooling in your belly, your desperation becoming more and more clear.

“Harry.” You croaked out, your voice light and airy.

“What, angel?” He acknowledged with a grin, knowing you were beginning to beg.

“Please...” You whined, your knees trembling more with each passing second.

He laughed again in your ear as he slammed in again past your sopping folds, your arousal had drenched his cock and was dripping down your thighs.

“What do you want, baby? You’ve got to tell me if you want something.” He sneered with the knowledge that he had you at his mercy.

You swallowed hard, your brain even foggier than before as you replied without much hesitation.

“I wanna cum.” You admitted, crying out immediately after a particularly perfect thrust from him.

“Do you? Only good girls get to cum,” He pointed out, his voice muffled from his mouth sucking on your neck, “You’ve been bad all day. I don’t know if you deserve it.”

The desire and the need to finish was exploding all through you. This was the best you had felt all day and if you didn’t get your release, you were sure you’d be a mess before the night was over. 

“No, no, no. Please, Harry. I didn’t mean to- fuck! I just wanna cum so I can feel better...” You pleaded.

Harry was a real softie at heart, and he rarely could stand the sound of you so needy and broken down. Maybe if you had really pissed him off, he might hold off on letting you cum, but right now he felt too bad to leave you like this.

“Okay, love, okay. Just because you’ve had such a rough day, I’m gonna let you finish,” He said, his words beginning to slur together, “But the next time you get snappy with me, I might not be so nice.” He rumbled.

A moan of satisfaction and bliss bubbled out of your throat as he continued to wonderfully fuck you the way only he knew how to. The band of ecstasy was stretching and stretching in your gut, and it was only a matter of a few more immaculately pounds into you that it would snap. His cock twitched deep inside of you somewhere, signaling that he was about to burst as well. 

When he felt you clench around him, he splayed his hand across your chest and pulled you completely back and flush against him as you came on his cock, his own release spilling into you. The sound of his moan as he finished sent waves of thrill through you as he held you close as you fell from your climax. The rushes of electricity and lust fizzled away slowly the further you both trailed from your finishes. The only sounds were your matched heavy breathing and occasional sigh of content.

Harry dragged his now softened cock out of you, his tip leaving last with a wet sounding pop. Your core and legs were shaking violently as he spun you around, holding you up by your arms to keep you from collapsing on him.

“You alright, lovely?” He questioned once he felt stable enough to speak.

“Mmhm,” You mumbled, “I’m perfect.”

“Good. You deserved that after today.” He responded, referring to how a good loving making session was all you needed.

You didn’t quite catch the intention of his words, and your expression changed into a guilty one.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry I was so mean today. It wasn’t your fault.” You apologized, kissing just above his right pectoral muscle.

He kept you held up with one arm, using his free hand to brush your messy hair from your face. He kissed the tip of your nose, then pressing another lazy kiss to your lips.

“I know, sweet girl. It’s okay,” He said warmly, “I meant that you deserved to feel good after you’ve had such a bad day.”

He whisked you away to your bed, snuggling up with you to give you a break from both studying and fucking. He littered you with kisses, aiding in getting rid of the remnants of your bad mood. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear and kissed all the places that made you smile or giggle happily.

Today reminded you of one of the many reasons you loved your beloved Harry. He was patient when you were being difficult. He was understanding when you were struggling. He was there for you when you needed him to be. He made your heart swell and your stomach flutter every time. 

He was the perfect resolution every time things got hard.

“Thanks for making me feel better. In more ways than one.” You said appreciatively with a small laugh. 

Harry grinned proudly, leaving another kiss on your forehead.

“Anytime, my love.”

[edith-hyde]

Norman Osborn X Female Reader

I Forgot My Umbrella - Part 19

Word Count: 2874

Summary: You have officially begun dating Norman. Will it be as blissful and easy and you hope?

Warnings: Age gap. PG.

A/N: Anybody order some quality cheese? lol. I love writing sappy romance, it's just so fun. Also, writing for Otto is a treat.

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——-

Norman awoke early in the morning and started his day off by pacing around his room in his robe. He repeatedly ran his hand through his hair or rubbed his face as he tried to process everything. His thoughts were a jumbled mess and he couldn’t make heads or tails of them. 

He needed help. 

Before he had even thought it through, Norman was on the phone calling Otto’s personal cell. It rang for a long while before Otto answered- his voice groggy and annoyed. 

“Norman? Why are you calling so blasted early? It’s Sunday.”

“Y/N confessed,” Norman blurted, “Last night.”

There was a great deal of shuffling on the other end as Otto sat up; now alert. 

“And? How did you respond?”

“I tried to reject her.”

“What do you mean tried?”

Norman squeezed his eyes shut as he dropped down into his office chair. 

“She saw right through me! And when I tried to get her to think about the age difference or her reputation- she said she didn’t care!”

“Told you it was her choice,” Otto chuckled. “So what happens now?”

Norman groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I think we’re dating now.”

Otto let out an all out laugh. 

“You think? Norman, you should know if you’re dating the girl or not.”

Norman recalled last night and instantly felt a heat rise to his face. He had picked you up fueled by nothing but pure emotion. If he hadn’t been so scared, he would’ve kissed you. Looking back on it now made his stomach twist with embarrassment.

Norman groaned. 

“It was a mutual agreement, Otto. I’m supposed to meet her for lunch today.”

“Congrats, Norman. You have a girlfriend at 47 years old.”

Otto’s tone was mocking, causing Norman to roll his eyes. 

“I’ve made a mistake,” he moaned, “I should’ve held my ground but she just… I can’t seem to say no to her. I should stop this before it goes any further-”

“It would be a mistake to pull out now,” Otto warned, “You clearly love this girl and she wants to be with you. Don’t overcomplicate it. Just enjoy it.”

Norman stayed silent for a long moment, prompting Otto to sigh. 

“It’s honestly too late to break it off now. You’d just shatter the poor girl’s heart if you did.”

“You’re right,” Norman agreed, “And that’s the last thing I want to do… but I have no clue what I’m doing, Otto! I haven’t dated anyone since Emily died.”

“Norman Osborn, the ladies man of MIT, doesn’t know how to woo a woman? I find that very hard to believe.”

Norman scowled. 

“In case you’ve forgotten, most of the women I dated before Emily weren’t exactly the best. And when I tried to date Emily, I needed your help.”

“This girl isn’t Emily.” Otto declared, “Emily was hard to impress and you had fallen for her first so you had to work at making her see you in a romantic way. Y/N fell for you without you even trying. If you’re just your usual self, I am sure it’ll all work out.”

“My usual self is…”

Norman looked down at his free hand and grimaced. 

“Norman, I can hear those gears grinding in your head. This girl isn’t going to pull away from you if you touch her. Did she pull away last night?”

“No…”

Norman could hear the smile in Otto’s voice. 

“Then don’t worry about it. If it really bothers you, then let her know that she’s allowed to set boundaries. Let her take the relationship as slow as she wants. Remember, love is not a race.”

“Right.”

“And might I suggest figuring out whether she’s a flower person or a chocolate person before you go giving gifts? Heck, she might even like a book with a personalized dedication from you. Rosie was always fond of that.”

Norman commited the suggestion to memory, nodding his head. 

“Thanks Otto… do you really think this relationship is the right thing?”

“I think it’s high time you stop punishing yourself for whatever you’re feeling guilty for, and just enjoy having someone who loves you.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Otto laughed. 

“I think this relationship is a great thing for you and honestly for the rest of us. Since that girl became your assistant, you’ve been in a far better mood.” 

Otto’s tone changed from playful to serious. 

“In all honesty Norman, I hold no judgment against you in regards to your age difference or working relationship. As your friend, I want this to work out for you and her.”

Norman felt a boost of confidence now that he had Otto’s full support.

“Thanks… feels like we’re back in college doesn’t it?”

“Indeed it does. Next you’re going to be telling me about some scientific breakthrough you’ve made after an all-nighter and too much pizza.”

Norman chuckled. 

“Good times.”

“If you say so.”

Norman finished up his conversation with Otto by going over some work plans for Monday. After they had said their goodbyes, Norman got ready for his lunch with you. 

He still harbored fear and hesitance, but not as much as he has been. 

He wouldn’t pull back. 

This wasn’t a mistake. 

———

You hardly slept a wink as your mind mulled over your day with Norman. It was totally surreal. 

You were in a relationship. 

The two of you were dating. 

Your stomach twisted into knots. How did this work? What were you supposed to do now? The worry over being a good girlfriend made it impossible to get any rest. By the time you had to get up, you had barely gotten more than a few hours of sleep. 

You shuffled out of bed and made it through your shower. You were in the middle of combing your hair when you heard a knock at your door. Your stomach exploded with butterflies as you shuffled up to the peephole. 

Norman stood outside. 

Feeling severely unprepared, you opened the door to let him in. You were just in a T-shirt and sweatpants as you hadn’t picked your outfit yet. You hated the idea of Norman seeing you like this but his smile put you at ease. 

“Good morning, my dear.”

As soon as the door was closed, he had his arms wrapped around you. Your butterflies burst into a fire as you felt his hands on your back.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, “You look a little tired.”

“I… I didn’t sleep too well.”

Concern plagued Norman’s face as he pulled back to inspect you.

“Why not?”

You looked him up and down before you started absently fiddling with the lapels of his overcoat. 

“Truthfully?”

Norman nodded his encouragement. You bowed your head so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. You hated to admit this truth to him, but it was better to get it out now than to hold onto it. 

“I… I’m just having a lot of worries and fears about being in a relationship.”

You peeked a look at Norman and his wide eyed stare made you start backtracking. You grabbed his coat as you feared he would pull away from you. 

“Not that I’m regretting being with you!! Please don’t think that. I really love you. I just mean…” Your face turned red with embarrassment, “I’ve… I’ve never been in a relationship before! I’ve been on a few first dates and that’s it. I don’t… I don’t really know what I’m doing… And I don’t wanna mess up…”

Norman’s expression softened. As he stared lovingly into your eyes, he started to pet your hair. 

“Now who is the one overthinking?” He chuckled, “You have nothing to worry about. We can figure this out together. The relationship isn’t all on you.”

“It’s just… you’ve been married before… you probably have expectations for a girlfriend and I don’t know-”

Norman’s eyebrows knitted together. 

“Stop right there. The only thing I expect out of you is for you to be yourself. Got it?”

 Norman placed his hand to the side of your face. His thumb gently caressed your cheek as he spoke. 

“We can take this relationship as slow as you like. If you ever start feeling like I’m going too fast, or I’ve crossed a line, just let me know. You’re allowed to have boundaries.”

You searched his face before smiling. 

“You’re the nicest man on the planet,” you whispered, “Thank you.”

Norman was truly taken aback by your words. He opened his mouth to protest, but you quickly pressed a finger to his lips. At your touch, his ears turned red. 

“I will not hear any objections,” you smirked, “Now I’m going to get dressed and you’re going to wait here.”

———

Apprehension plagued Norman’s mind as he watched you leave. Now he wasn’t sure what his boundaries were. Otto had encouraged him to be himself but now he felt a twinge of fear as he considered it. 

What if he moved too fast? 

That was always his downfall. He would have to test and see what you were comfortable with. He didn’t want to overstep, but also wanted to express how he felt in the ways he knew best. 

“Hey, that’s quite the scowl you got there. If you’re not careful your face will stick like that.”

Your teasing tone snapped Norman out of his thoughts. He looked up, planning to reply with something snarky, but his words left him. You stood by the couch, hair pulled back into a ponytail with a scrunchy. You wore a black blouse and colorful pants. It wasn’t anything overly fancy but it still made Norman freeze. 

It wasn’t so much your clothes as it was just the sight of you framed by the light from the windows. 

You were beautiful and you were his.

“Sir?”

Norman gave you a kind smile. 

“How about, for today, you can only call me Norman?”

You laughed as you started putting on your tennis shoes. 

“Sorry. It’s just a habit at this point. It’s still kinda weird, calling you Norman. But I’ll work on it.”

“That’s all I can ask for I suppose.”

Norman grabbed your coat for you and held it so you could put it on. He saw the blush across your neck and ears, reminding him of how much he flustered you. Feeling mischievous and wanting to test his limits, Norman pulled you into a hug, holding your back against his chest. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck as he whispered to you. 

“So where would you like to go for lunch?”

He closed his eyes as he waited for you to respond. He half expected you to stiffen up or even pull away. But instead, you completely relaxed into him with a happy hum. You tilted your head back to rest on his shoulder as your hands moved to rest on top of his. 

“You’re making it hard to think,” you muttered. 

“Sorry,” Norman laughed, “Would you like me to let go?”

“No.” You replied quickly, “You’re fine.”

Norman felt you take several deep breaths before you sighed. 

“I don’t care where we go,” you finally said, “We could just stay in and order takeout for all I care.”

“Tempting,” Norman murmured, “But you got all dressed up just to go out with me. It’d be a waste not to show you off.”

You gave a dry laugh and Norman felt you shake your head. 

“I’m nothing to show off.”

Norman finally moved so he could turn you around and look you in the eyes. He searched your face for a moment as he frowned. 

“Y/N, if you’re allowed to insist that you find me attractive, then I’m allowed to show you off.”

“Fair, fair,” you giggled, “So do you have any ideas of where to go?”

Norman thought for a moment, trying to remember any place to eat. But suddenly, you lurched forward and grabbed his hand. You had an excited look on your face as you spoke. 

“How about we have a picnic in Central Park!? I’ve got a basket around here somewhere and there’s still lunchmeat left over from the other day.”

Norman grinned. You were so enthusiastic about the idea, he couldn’t help but indulge you.

“Sounds perfect.”

———

You had been in Central Park a few times but never for a date. You and Norman had walked down the main path, hand in hand, until you found a nice little spot under a tree just out of sight of the main walkway. You laid down a blanket, and quickly set everything up. After eating, you and Norman sat shoulder to shoulder, leaning against the tree. It was a bit chilly but that was easily solved by scooching close to your boyfriend and soaking up his body heat.

Boyfriend. 

You felt giddy at the thought. You had a boyfriend. A part of you wanted to shout it to the entire world. The other part of you wanted to keep this knowledge all to yourself. You knew you’d eventually have to tell your family and friends but for now, you weren’t ready to share Norman with anyone. You wanted to make sure the two of you were a good fit before you started announcing anything. 

“What are you thinking about?” Norman asked casually.

“Just wondering how I’m going to tell my family that I have a boyfriend. I don’t really wanna tell them so soon but I know I’ll have to eventually…”

“You’re worried about how they’ll react to me?”

You looked up at Norman and saw the worry in his blue eyes. You gave him a smile.

“No. More like I just don’t want them meddling. I want you all to myself for now. If I told my parents, they would insist on meeting you and having dinners and all that jazz. I’m not ready for that just yet, ya know?”

Norman nodded, his eyes on the far horizon. The two of you had picked a secluded corner of the park so there weren’t many people around to see you. You knew this was Norman’s intention as he was still clearly worrying over people judging you. He claimed he wanted to show you off but he was still clearly hesitant about the two of you being seen together. You knew it wasn’t because he was ashamed to be seen with you. He just cared about your reputation; even in the eyes of strangers.

“Do you think they’ll like me?” Norman asked in a whisper. 

This caused you to sit up and look him in the eyes. With full confidence you nodded. 

“Absolutely. They might be a little weird about it at first, but I’m sure as soon as they get to know you, they’ll love you.”

Norman grimaced, clearly not convinced. 

“You said yesterday that your father is older than me. Is that by a few years or…”

“He’s a whole 13 years older than you.” you reached out and touched Norman’s arm, “You don’t have to worry.”

“You really don’t think they’ll be bothered by who I am or my age?”

You could see the sheer amount of concern Norman was feeling. After a moment, you ducked your head.

“I wish I could say no, but…. They’re not the types to immediately shutdown, okay? They’ll hear us out and they’ll understand. My mom is like 8 years younger than my dad so I don’t think the age gap between us will bother them.”

“8 years is a much smaller gap than 23 years…” 

You shrugged.

“As long as you’re respectful and honest, we shouldn’t have a problem.” 

You gave Norman a reassuring smile.

“But stop worrying about it. That’s a problem for the future. I won’t introduce you to my parents until you’re good and ready.”

“I appreciate that. Though truthfully, I doubt I’ll ever be ready.”

“What about your parents?” You questioned, “Am I able to meet them?”

Norman tensed up and immediately shook his head. 

“The only family I have is Harry.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Norman said with venom in his tone, “My father was an abusive drunk and my mother was too weak to stop him.”

Unsure of how to respond, you opted for taking his hand in yours. You thread your fingers with his and your hand felt unbelievably small in his grasp.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I shouldn’t have said-”

“Don’t be sorry,” you interrupted, “I want to know every little thing about you. I’m sorry that I don’t have a way to comfort you. I wish I did.”

“Oh, but you do.”

Before you could respond, Norman pulled his hand away from you and wrapped his arm around you. He pulled you close to him and rested his forehead against your temple. His left hand started playing with your hair, sending chills up your spine. When he spoke, his breath tickled your cheek.

“This is all the comfort I need. Being close to you… Are you okay with this?”

“Yup!” You squeaked, “I’m fine.”

“Good,” he whispered, “Remember, if I ever do anything you don’t like, or you feel like I’m moving too fast-”

“I’ll tell you,” you promised.

[slut-4-rafe]

Hi! I had a fix idea. So a switch!reader and she is in a relationship with the marauders(without Peter) and the boys find out. And like Remus is trying to convince Sirius to try it since he is a switch too(James is a sub and Remus is a dom) and like maybe the reader is feeling bad about messing up the dynamics and tells Remus to forget about it but her feeling bad eventually causes Sirius to give in and then ✨smut✨ You can obviously ignore this. Just thought I would share my thought❤️❤️

"Absolutely not!"

Sub! James x Dom! Remus x Switch! Sirius x Switch! Fem! Reader.

Summary: You want to try and be a dom for once, though Sirius isn't willing to look at you as anything but a sub. Remus and James on the other hand, want you to take charge.

Warning: Smut!, degration kink, praise kink, fingering (male receiving), daddy kink, mommy kink, oral (male receiving), slapping, probably more but this is just filthy.

Note: I hope this was okay. I don't feel like this was exactly what you were asking for, but I needed to add some drama lol.

Word count: 2,295

You had been feeling off about sex recently. It wasn't the fact that Remus was a dom. Or that James was a sub. Or that Sirius was both. What it was, was that you were a sub, or so they thought.

Yes, you loved being their 'good girl' and making them feel good, but sometimes you wished you could take the role of being in charge. Being the one to praise them for being good. Though you thought none of your boyfriends noticed your odd behaviors during your time in the bedroom, you were very wrong.

You were sat on one of the scarlet couches in the Gryffindor common room, watching as the orange flames danced in the pit. Your peaceful headspace was soon to be interrupted.

"Everyone out!" a voice yelled, startling you.

As people started to stand to leave the common room, a certain red head, also known as Lily Evans, took a stand. "No Potter. This is your common room. You can't just order people around!"

"Actually, Evans, I can. I'm head boy." the bespectacled boy said. Before Lily could argue anymore, you watched as Remus gave her a small pleading smile. Her gaze flickered to you and soon she softened.

"Alright then." she said before walking out of the portrait hole.

You knew what this was about. You knew why they wanted to talk privately, especially somewhere that wasn't the boys' bedroom.

You'd been avoiding them.

Sex was a common thing in your relationship, not that you were complaining at all. But to avoid the sex and the uncomfortable sub position you were constantly put in, you avoided them all together.

You kept your gaze on the flames before you, barely noticing each of the boys had taken seats on the couch beside you. Though you felt their stares lingering on your curled up frame, you ignored them the best you could.

"Pup." Remus said softly. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Us." Sirius corrected.

You heard Remus let out a sight before correcting himself. "Can you tell us, what's going on?"

You didn't speak.

Your heart was beating rapidly and you got the sudden urge to vomit. And when the blush took over your cheeks, you hid your head in your hands.

You were embarrassed.

Embarrassed to explain that you wanted to not only be a sub, but also be a dom. And it wasn't James or Remus you had to worry about, it was Sirius. The raven haired boy liked how things were in the bed, he didn't want a change, and of course you knew that.

"Hey. We asked you a question." Sirius said.

"You not....breaking up with us, are you?" you heard James whisper. Hearing is sad voice broke your heart, and in an instant you revealed your blushed cheeks to the boys and raced to say your next words.

"No!"

James' frown turned into a lopsided grin at your answer. And suddenly you heard a set of chuckles. Turning your gaze to your other two boyfriends, you found both of them smirking.

"What?"

"Your embarrassed." Sirius said.

"Am not!"

"We like seeing you all flustered puppy." Remus smiled.

"Wanna take this to the room?" Sirius' smirk widened, and instantly your shoulders fell.

"No she doesn't." Remus said. "Pup? What happened? Are you feeling okay? Is something bothering you?"

You just gave your head a simple shake from side to side.

"I think I have a guess." you heard the raven haired boy say, and without even looking at him, you knew he had a shit eating grin plastered on his face. "I think our puppy broke a rule."

At those words your head snapped up. "No I didn't!"

"See. From the way your acting I'd say you did." he went on.

"No!"

"Are you back talking?" he smirked as your shoulders dropped yet again. "See. You just broke a rule. Back talking to your daddies."

And here you were, yet again, being put back in the sub position. You ignored the arousal pooling in your panties, as you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and turned your stony gaze back to the fire. Yes. You were horny. You had been avoiding sex for about two weeks and still, the sub side of you wanted to follow their rules so you stuck to them. One of them just happened to be 'no getting yourself off,' so you didn't.

"I think you need to be punished pup." Sirius said in a sing song voice.

Remus noticed you seemed off. He sent Sirius a stern look, making the boy sink down into the couch. The sandy haired boy stood up and made his way to where he was kneeling in front of you.

"Poppet?" you turned you eyes to meet his brown ones. "What's the matter?"

Your mind swarm with thought and ways to put together your explanation. "I just..." you trailed off, trying to find the perfect words.

"You just what pup?"

"I-" you took a deep breathe and squeezed your eyes shut and allowed the words to come out in a quick, jumbled mess. "I just don't like being a sub all the time! I want to take charge once in a while. I'm a switch! Just like Siri and I-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Remus cut you off. "Say it again. Slower this time."

You huffed and opened your eyes to meet his yet again. "I don't want to be a sub all the time. Sometimes I want to take charge like you and Siri do. I like being a sub sometimes, but not always. I love being your good girl, but sometimes I just want you to be my good boys."

A silence took over the four of you. The blush that was once on your face turned a deeper shade of red.

"Alright-"

"Absolutely not!" Sirius cut Remus' words off. "No way!"

"Daddy-" Sirius cut off James this time.

"No! I don't care what you two say, I'm saying no!"

Your shoulders slumped. You were put into this uncomfortable position. You wished you could take everything back. You wished you'd never said anything in the first place. You were drowning in your own thought. Your brain muffling the sound of the arguing boys next to you.

"We can't just do what we want Sirius!"

"There can't be three doms and one sub! I mean, James is already sensitive enough. Imagine of we have three people going at him!"

"Hey!" James whined.

"Oh shush. You know it's true."

"Stop. Both of you." Remus said sternly. "Sirius, if there can't be three doms, then you be a sub."

"No fucking way!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I'm a dom!"

"Actually," James said. "Your both Siri. Why can't she be both? That way there would be..."

"Technically, three subs and three doms." Remus concluded.

"No. She's a sub. I don't care what she wants. She will obey you and I. We are her daddies. What does she want? To be called mommy?" he laughs. "That sound fucking stupid."

"Sirius! Stop being a brat-"

"It's fine." you interrupted them. "I shouldn't have tried to change it. Just...pretend I didn't say anything."

You got up and made your way up to the boys' dorm, to which you shared, having not been to your dorm since fifth year. You plopped yourself on the fifth bed, also known as the extra bed, in the room. You grumbled into your pillow, completely oblivious to the arguing going on down below.

"Look what you did Sirius!" James exclaimed. The boys head snapped to James a scowl etched on his lips.

"I didn't do anything."

"Yes. You. Did." Remus seethed. The lycanthrope stepped towards the black haired boy, making him gulp nervously. Remus planted a slap to the boys' cheek. "What did I say about being a brat? Huh?"

"It makes me a bad boy." he said quietly.

"Yes it does. Why can't you just be a good boy like James?"

"I am a good boy!" Sirius whined, he sub side finally showing.

"No. Your not. You hurt puppies feelings."

Realization dawned on the boy and he immediately ran up to the dorm, followed by James and Remus.

"I'm sorry!" Sirius cried once he barged into the room. "I was a bad boy. Hurt mommy's feelings."

You froze and turned to the boys, finding James' hazel eyes blown wide, Sirius practically crying, and Remus standing against the door, a smirk wide on his face.

"What? I-I thought..."

"I'm so sorry mommy. Wanna be a good boy. Wanna make mommy happy."

"I..."

"I think little Sirius needs to be punished. What do you think James?" Remus asked.

"Yes daddy. I think mommy needs to punish Siri." he answered.

"W-what? I-..."

"What do I do to you or James when your bad?" Remus asked as he takes long strides to sit next to you on the bed. "Sirius, come here." The boy sheepishly makes his way over to the two of you until he's standing directly in front of you. "Talk to him. Tell him he's bad. Tell him why he's bad." Remus whispered in your ear. "Take charge doll."

This is what you were waiting for. To take charge.

"You were being mean Si." you said. "Hurt my-"

"Who are you?" Remus asked. "Have to address who you are."

"Hurt mommy's feelings."

"I know! I'm so sorry mommy!" he cried.

You contemplated what to do next. "Punish him." Remus whispered.

You stood up so you were face to face with the boy in front of you. You teasingly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the item off his shoulders before unbuckling his belt and pulling down his trousers and boxers. You looked over the boy, watching as his hard on sat up straight, leaking precum. "Lay down."

"Yes mommy." he crawled up into the bed. Laying so he was on his stomach, his hands were intertwined on his back and he got a perfect view of the bed right in front of him. You seated yourself so you were sitting at his side. Before touching him though, you addressed the other two boys.

"Hey Jamesie?"

The boy perked up at the call of his name a lopsided smile taking over his features. "Yes mommy?"

"Want to help daddy out? Want to suck his cock while I punish Siri?"

James nodded his head rapidly before hurriedly making his way over to the bed that just so happened to be right in front of Sirius. "Yes mommy. Want to be a good boy."

"Good job bubba."

Remus was quick to discard himself, and James, of their clothes. "Good boy." he cooed as James started working on his cock.

"Alright. What should I do, huh?" you asked the boy.

"Punish me mommy. Wanna be your good boy." he whimpered. You thought for a moment. Thinking of all the punishments you received. You smirked when you got an idea.

"Ass up." you instructed, watching how he instantly rested himself on his hands and knees. You took one hand down to his cock. Hearing him moan just at the touch made your legs squeeze together. "Don't take your eyes off them. And you better not cum. Got it?"

"Yes mommy."

"Good." you smirked.

Your hand slowly went up and down on his cock, feeling all the veins and how it twitched when she squeezed. She took her pointer finger and placed it in her mouth, wetting it. Once it was slick, she took it down so she was tracing his hole, earning moans from him. You pussy clenched around nothing and the arousal sitting in your underwear grew uncomfortable as you listened to James' gags and Sirius and Remus' moans.

You slowly aloud your finger to push in, going slow, because while this was punishment, you didn't want to injure or hurt him in any way. You listened to him moan loudly and his back arch.

"Are you okay?" you whispered.

"Yes! Mommy!" he moaned.

You sped up your finger slightly and fisted his cock. As you kept your movements the same, you turned to James and Remus. James had his nose buried in Remus' happy trail.

"Fuuuuck. Such a good boy." you heard Remus moan before pulling the boys head off so he could breathe. After a moment, Remus forced James mouth back onto his cock and bobbed his head up and down. You, in the mean time, took in the sight of the boy laying in front of you. Eyes glued to your other two boyfriends. Cock twitching as he did his best not to cum. And your finger pumping in and out of his hole. "M'gonna cum James. And you better swallow." you heard Remus instruct, earning a moan from James. And in seconds, Remus was cumming down the boys throat and the room was full of loud moans.

"Mommy! I can't! M'gonna cum." Sirius screamed.

"You better not. You wanna be my good boy right?"

"Yes!"

"Then don't cum. Just ten more seconds."

And when you felt his cock twitch violently in your hand, you drew your hand back and slowly took your finger out. He collapsed down onto the mattress.

"Am I good now mommy?" he asked.

You crawled off the bed and went so you were kneeling in front of his face. "So good baby. Watched them the whole time, and didn't even cum!"

"Now we have to make mommy cum!" James said excitedly.

"Right Jamesie." Remus smiled.

"Want to fuck mommy Jamesie boy?" you asked, getting up and going over to the boy on the bed.

"Yes mommy! Wanna make mommy cum. Wanna be her good boy." he went on.

"Okay James. Remus, help out Sirius over there. He's a good boy." you said.

Taglist: @blowing-mikey @lilicazure @trouble-in-space @herbatkazmiloscia @zzzfour @speakyourselfloveyourself @vierablack @officepass1320 @riddikulusweasleys @mysticlights-blog @mtle @emmaev @whitecastles @teenwolfbitches2 @lliasky @lookscutebutwillfight @pretty-pop-princess-hs @imsiriuslyval

[saintlike78]

Hey.

First I wanted to say that i really like you work and that i often think about commenting my thoughts on it but since english is not my native language i feel very insecure about that.

I don’t even know if you take request for that but maybe you could write an poly marauders x reader, Where the reader feels really bad about their bad grades in Arithmacy ( i feel like thats the closest to math right) and feels so dumb and worthless after almost failing an examen and the marauders make her feel better and stuff.

Sorry for bad spelling or if it doesn’t make sense at all

I wish you a wonderful weekend!

Doing your best [Poly Marauders]

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, you’re so sweet! You shouldn’t feel insecure, your English is great! And please don’t ever feel insecure about commenting or reaching out, it means so much to me and I couldn’t care less if you make mistakes, I do too.

Pairings: Poly Marauders x fem! reader

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: Polyamorous relationship, Reader being bad at Arithmancy, wizarding grades, the grade ‘p’ stands for poorly, bad test results, the implication of punishment, reader being hard on themselves, crying.

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Looking down at the paper placed on the desk in front of you tears welled up in your eyes. The ‘P’ written in bold red not concealing how absolutely horrible you were performing in arithmancy. You stared at the paper for a few extra seconds before scrambling to get it off of your desk and tucked it away into the depths of your bag, hopefully also letting it leave the forefront of your mind. Unluckily for you, James was seated next to you and didn’t miss your ‘poor’ grade, giving you a disappointed look and an almost silent ‘tsk’.

He, alongside your two other boyfriends, probably thought it was because of you slacking off, but it was almost the opposite. You had studied so hard for that test and the subject of Arithmancy, but no matter what you did or how long you studied for it never sank in properly, leaving you frustrated at your lack of understanding. Numbers had never been your strong suit and it clearly showed, you were mentally slapping yourself, beating yourself up.

‘How could I have been so stupid!? Getting a ‘poorly’… what are they going to do with me?’

Your thoughts were all jumbled, which is why you hadn’t noticed the class being dismissed and James packing away his own things and then packing yours as well, taking in the distracted look on your face. He grabbed your bag and slung it over his shoulder, on top of his own, before he reached a hand out for you to take. “Come on, baby… let’s go.”

You were snapped out of your thoughts, looking dumbfoundedly at James’ hand causing James to chuckle a little, but in the end placing your hand in his, letting him lead you towards their dorm.

Arriving at their dorm, James opened the door letting you enter before him and shutting the door softly after himself.

“Hi! How was the Arithmancy test?” Remus asked, getting up from the bed to greet you with a kiss.

“Well, I think our little darling has been slacking off… the grade she received was less than stellar,” James said disappointedly crossing his arms before he walked over to his bed, dumping both his and your bag on it.

Sirius’s head perked up, no longer paying attention to the book in front of him. “Oh? And what grade was that puppy?”

You fiddled with your fingers, not wanting to meet their eyes, feeling stupid and small under their intense gaze.

“Uhm…” you didn’t want to say it out loud, knowing how much they pestered you to get good grades and keep up with your schoolwork… it being a part of your rules.

Though, you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it since James had seen the grade in plain view.

“Come on, bun, what was it?” Remus pressed, growing impatient knowing by James’ disappointed face that it was bad.

“I-I… uhm… got a ‘p’,” you finally let out, voice small almost a whisper.

You finally looked up at them and your heart dropped taking in the way Remus’ face fell in disappointment.

“That wasn’t very good, was it bunny?” Remus looked down upon you, a stern look replacing his disappointed one.

You just shook your head, unable to answer without breaking down in tears. Your fiddling fingers turning to knuckle cracking, your eyes glassy with impending tears.

“Answer him,” Sirius said sternly, also abandoning the bed and walking to stand in front of you as well.

“n-n-no,” you replied shakily, all your energy being used to keep the tears at bay.

Remus shook his head, “well, bun, it’s very disappointing… I hadn’t even realized you were slacking off, but you know what happens when you do.” He was hinting towards a punishment, those reserved for when you were being a brat or slacked off on purpose, but now it didn’t feel like you deserved one.

The threat of a punishment finally causing the tears to fall, your knees wobbling weakly and quickly giving out on you causing you to fall to the floor as sobs left your mouth. Your face was buried in your hands as tears leaked out of your eyes.

“I-I’m so-sor-ry, I di-dn’t mean to… I t-tried so ha-rd,” you sobbed out, voice breaking and hiccups interrupting your sentence.

The three boy’s stern faces fell into those of soft ones, their tough demeanor leaving them as they watched you break down before them. They looked between each other; sympathy was written in each of their features.

James was the first to kneel down at your level, using his right hand to pry your face out of your hands forcing you to look at his face. His heart dropping at your tear-stained face, feeling your pain.

“It’s okay, darling… c’mere,” James opened his arms for you; you immediately fell forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the crook of his neck, letting out some more tears and sobs.

His arms were wrapped tightly around you to comfort you until you were ready to talk about it.

Remus and Sirius shared a look, and both kneeled as well, engulfing both you and James in a massive hug. You let out a breath of contentment, your tears ceasing and your breath evening out.

“Can you explain to us what happened?” Remus asked carefully, not wanting to push you in your fragile state.

They all leaned back so you could look at their faces when speaking to them. When your face was out of hiding Sirius took your face in his hands and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe your tears, causing you to lean into his touch, his heart swelled, and he smiled softly.

“I have been studying for that test for weeks, I just can’t seem to grasp the subject… it’s so frustrating and I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I just feel so stupid,” you rambled, airing out your thoughts and frustrations.

“You’re not stupid, puppy… you’re so smart, but you can’t be good at everything,” Sirius said, still holding your face and kissing you softly.

“Bunny, you could have asked for help… I’ll gladly help you study for the next test; I’ll make sure you get a good grade,” Remus offered.

Your face left the warm touch of Sirius’ hands to tackle Remus in a giant hug, kissing him all over his face. “Thank you, Remmy!” you squealed.

The three boys chuckled at your excitement for something as dull as studying for arithmancy.

“I love you all,” you sighed.

“We love you too, darling, even if you are bad at arithmancy,” James said with a small smirk earning him a smack on his arm.

James dramatically grabbed his arm, “oi! Watch it, I play quidditch with that arm.”

Tags: @teenwolfbitches28, @dracosafety