#hes so bad at finding food. i open the food container and he swims down to stare at it

[daughterofsarenrae]

Kal-El might not be the smartest fish but at least he's pretty!

[johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend]

heyy, could you write something based on their trip to curaçao including fluff and maybe smut <33

cake by the ocean - hamzahthefantastic x reader

CONTAINS: fluff, smut, p in v, oral (f recieving), slight breeding kink, fingering, etc you'll find out

WC: 1.7k

story below the cut

the sun beamed high and bright, radiating warmth throughout your body. your tired feet ached as you kept walking, sandals digging sand into your skin. birds were chirping as you felt the salty breeze and humidity of the island.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you, hamzah, mandy and martin had spent the whole morning riding a bus to swim with the turtles. as vibrant and beautiful as it was, it left you all hungry and sunburnt. as you came out of the water, you realized you still had a good 2 hours before the next bus came to take you back to the rental house.

mandy, being the mom of the group, pulled out her phone and started searching for nearby restaurants. "so, i found this place close to us and it has pretty good reviews." martin peered over her shoulder, "yeah looks nice, we can just go there. you guys good with that?" you nodded in agreement.

and that led you to where you were right now. the walk out of the beach is always harder than the walk in. you were most likely going to have a swimsuit rash. mandy and martin held the gps, walking in the front. "hey, you okay?" hamzah says, wrapping an arm around you and effectively snapping you out of your thoughts.

"yeah, no matter how much sunscreen i put, i just always manage to get burnt." he raises an eyebrow at you "okay but look at me." you take him in for a second. the sun might've actually blessed him, perfectly leaving the right amount of red on his face and his shoulders. "yeah well, it looks perfect on you." you say, making his smile and plant a kiss on your wet hair, walking hand in hand the rest of the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was a charming little open-air restaurant, with fans in the corners of the ceiling to keep you from overheating. reggae music played in the background as your waiter seated the four of you.

you each got margaritas, and food, not caring that it was only 1 p.m. you took a sip of yours, and it was good, but you couldn't help but look at your boyfriend's drink. you turn to him, "can i just try a little bit of yours?" giving him a smile. unimpressed, he passes it to you. you take a lot more than a sip, because his was really fruity. "alright, alright, thats enough." he takes the straw out of your mouth. "come on, how are yours always so much better than mine? can we maybe swap..." hamzah was not surprised this happened. it happened at every place you went to, and being the amazing boyfriend he is, he shrugged and agreed. he would do anything to see the cute smile you give him.

you finish eating your food, leaving some of it because you were too stuffed. martin and mandy are having their own conversation as you stare at hamzah, going ham on his burger. how did you get so lucky with a guy like him? you took off his hat (finally) and stared at his curls, running your fingers through his hair. the saltwater made them even more beautiful. you two had started going to the gym together, and you noticed his arms were slightly more toned than before. his brown eyes meet yours;

"are you gonna finish that?" he points to your plate. you look down at his plate and the food is gone. you laugh a little, and pass your unfinished meal to him. "nope i'm done." you grin and pat him on the back. it was nice that he ate your leftover food, as you felt bad for leaving it.

you looked over to martin, tapped out after attempting to eat it all but failing miserably. you guys split the check, obviously sharing with your boyfriend and then leave soon after.

the bus ride was calming for the most part, as you four were the only people on it. there was enough space for 2 people on each side, so you just sat across from eachother. "i can'tttt mandy i ate too much." he whines closing his eyes and holding his stomach. "oh my gosh why do you always do this?"

you tune out the other voices and focus on yourself. you feel your head fall fowards a bit before jolting it back, and hamzah notices. "just use my shoulder baby." he mutters to you, resting your head. with another hour to go until you get back, you eventually fall asleep on his arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you feel someone stir beneath you. waking up, you open your eyes to find yourself on the couch, hamzah's arms wrapped around you. "wanna get out of here?" he asks you. you grab your phone, looking at the time. it was around 7 p.m. meaning you had slept for about 3 hours. "yeah sure." you reply, still groggy.

you take his hand as he leads you out the door, walking by martin and his family playing pool. stepping out on the stone path, the sky is lit with hues of orange, pink and blue, as the sun was setting. you walk to the closest beach, less than a minute away. "wait follow me, i found a private place." there is a smaller portion of the beach, hidden by plants and flowers. you both have clothes on, but still have your bathing suits underneath. the waves calm down, gently crashing against the rocks.

he takes a seat in the sand, just deep enough for the water to touch his legs. you situate yourself next to him, staring at the sunset. he was the first to speak, "i love you so much. you know that right?" "mhm, but i love you more" you say, leaving a kiss on his cheek. "y/n, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me." he places his hand on yours. "and this place is great, i can't wait to bring our kids here one day."

"yeah, me too."

the two of you had talked about this before. you were surely going to marry eachother, and have children, but with the channel going on and the fact that you were both young, you had agreed to wait. that didn't mean you couldn't have fun though. you had been taking birth control anyways, and hamzah knew about that.

"hey, we will soon." you whisper to him, staring into his eyes. you take off your shirt and descend waist deep into the water. the big rocks had blocked off the harsh waves for the most part, so it was almost like a little swimming pool. the water was lukewarm, which surprised you as there was almost no more sun.

after a few minutes, he takes off his shirt, getting behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. he plants kisses on your jaw and down your neck. you turn to face him, kissing him passionately. it starts to get more intense as he slips his tongue in your mouth. he grabs your ass, encouraging you to hop up on him. you do so and wrap your legs around his hips. he takes you out of the water, kissing your collarbone. "baby let me eat you out please" he hums on your skin. you nod as he sits on the sand, guiding you on top of him. he pulls the strings of your floral bikini top, making it fall off.

hamzah puts it aside as he kisses you, fondling your breasts. he rolls the tips with his fingers as you moan out in pleasure. he then takes one in his mouth, showing the other the same affection. this causes you to start grinding on his bulge. he stops and lays down, pulling you closer to his face. he looks up at you, pulling off your bikini bottoms. you hover over him, not wanting to crush him. he notices this and takes both hands, forcing your weight down on his mouth. you groan out in pleasure.

he starts lapping at your wet cunt while you grind on his face slightly. "m'fuck hamzah just like that" your praise makes him eat you out harder, wanting nothing more than to please you. your hands are on his curls, occasionally pulling tight, causing him to grunt out which sends vibrations to your pussy. the sight alone could make you finish. "i'm gonna-" you whimper, not being able to finish your sentence before cumming on his face. he's not done with you just yet as he moves you aside for a second, taking off his trunks. he pushes you down on the sand, one hand holding your arm down and the other stroking himself. he teases you with his tip, covering it in your wet slick.

''i'm gonna fuck you so hard y/n." he looks to you for approval before slowly inserting himself in you. his length always surprises you, and he gives you a few seconds to adjust before starting to thrust into you. he moans, "you're so tight" his kisses trail downwards from your mouth to your chest, thrusting faster and harder. your overstimulated clit couldn't handle it much longer. "h-hamzah" you moan. "hold on baby m'wait a little longer."

he goes faster, hitting that right spot every time. you feel the knot in your stomach about to come undone. his hand moves to your pussy, rubbing in circles. all that could be heard was grunts and moans from the both of you. "you like that huh?" he says, in more of a knowing way. his words make you orgasm. he follows after a few more thrusts, releasing all of his cum inside you. he takes his length out of you, quickly plugging the hole with his finger, letting his cum stay there. he gets off of you, falling to the side.

"i love you," you both say in unison, laughing at the fact that you said it at the same time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hamzah opens the door to the house, letting you walk in front of him before closing it behind you.

"where the hell have you guys been?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you so so so so much for requesting and i finally got around to itttt sorry im so lazy guys but why are there no hamzah fics tf? i had to feed u guys. SEND ME MORE REQUESTS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Seven: [Faucet Failure]

Summary: Jake makes his way back to you after finding out the truth. While under sedation to give your brain some rest, you remember the good times and the bad with your husband.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4.6K

Author Note: These chapters keep getting more and more heartbreaking. I can’t even deal. Why did you guys let me do this to y’all?

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

November 22nd

The dim glow of your TV was the only thing in the house that was giving your home any sort of light. The kids had all gone down well, both Lucy and Lennox had swimming practice after school which meant that they were down and out for the count before you even got from their beds back to the door. Sam was easy to get to sleep, he always had been. He was just a naturally sleepy kid. 

The gentle knock against your front door startled you, but didn’t shock you. You knew exactly who it was. It was the same guy who'd given you a tissue to dry your tears, the same guy who sat beside you and kept you company during one of your lowest moments. It was the guy that had turned an overly depressing core memory into one that showed a little humanity, sympathy and understanding. 

“Happy Birthday!” Jensen cooed as he stood at your door with a plastic bag full of Chinese takeout containers full to the very brim. “I didn't know what you liked so I think I got one of everything.” You stood at the threshold of your home just staring at the man who was on your doorstep, who’d insisted on buying you dinner. When you had informed him of your three children, Jensen said he’d have it delivered.

But he didn't specify who’d be delivering it…..

“I hope you weren't expecting a tip.” You smiled as you let Jensen into your home, the unimaginable amount of scattered children's shoes made it look like you were raising a family of caterpillars, but Jensen didn't mind the mess. He understood, his sister had two little girls around about the same age as Lucy and Lennox. 

“But I brought you cheesecake as well?” Jensen smiled back at you in the darkness of the dimly lit hallway. “Can’t have a birthday without cake.” 

“I don't even remember the last time someone brought me any form of cake.” You sighed as you politely took the cheesecake in its cake box. Jensen frowned in response as he watched you hit the light switch in the hallway that led to the kitchen. 

“Didn't your husband ever buy you a birthday cake?” He called out as he followed you deeper into your humble abode. It was a simple question that carried far too much weight than you were ready to truly unpack. You'd told Jensen in one of your many conversations since you first met about how you and Jake were separated due to circumstances that weren’t fair to either one of you. Jensen never pressed for more information than you were willing to give. 

“He used to.” You shrugged. “I can't remember the year he stopped, hell–I can't really even pinpoint when he stopped caring but eventually he did and soon enough my birthday just became another day.” It was hard to admit, but Jensen made opening up about your marital struggles easy, you never really confided in anyone about any of it. He had a non-biased opinion. “But I loved Jake, I still do, at the time I guess I didn't care that I was getting a fraction of what I deserved because a fraction of him was better than nothing at all.” The tears were there, they were ready to spill over your lower last line. But you never let them fall as Jensen sat down at your kitchen bench and opened up the bag of chinese food. “But it all got too much– or too little, I suppose.” 

“Have you told him about the cancer yet?” Jensen asked softly, he wasn't pressing, he was just asking. 

“I still dont think I’m going to–he probably wouldn't care, I mean he forgot my birthday.” Again you shrugged it off like it was no big deal. “I highly doubt he’d care about some cancer diagnosis.” 

“Are you sure he wouldn't care? Or have you just convinced yourself he wouldn't because it hurts less to believe he doesn't care than it does to believe he does?” When you answered Jensen's heart sank. He saw the tears in your eyes, the look of heartbreak that reflected from your very soul. The longingness in your expression. He saw right through the wall you tried so hard to protect yourself with. He saw it all. Which is why when your voice cracked and your support beams held together by caffeine and your need to keep a normal routine for your children in place, faltered, Jensen sighed. 

“It didn't take much convincing–”

“Y/n–”

“How was Chemo today?” You tried your best to change the subject as you grabbed some cutlery. The chair beside Jensen at your kitchen counter looked awfully comfortable. 

“Consider my follicles fried.” Jensen chuckled as you handed him a spoon. “Now don't change the subject, we’re talking about you and this husband of yours, who, I'm convinced, is a few screws short of a hardware store.” 

“Oh yeah? Why's that?” You weren't sure if you wanted to know, but what you did know was that Jake wasn’t here. He’d sent you a message earlier in the day but you were yet to respond. You felt that if you replied it would open a floodgate of vulnerability. But soon enough Jensens words had you in a freefall of wondering if it was truly over between you and Jake–

“Because I don't think anyone who's lucky enough to love you would ever put themselves in a position to lose you.” 

Or not. 

***~***~***~**~***~

“Look left for me?” Doctor Ignatii spoke as he shined his little pen light in your eyes. “And right?” You did as you were told although you just wanted to be left alone. “Count to five for me?” You almost rolled your eyes as Doctor Ignatii stepped away and walked closer to your feet. 

“One, two, three, four, five.” You slowly counted. “Do I get a gold star?” Doctor Ignatii didn’t take your foul attitude to heart, he dealt with people like you every day—over the years you tend to develop pretty thick skin. 

“Possibly, if you can wiggle your toes and touch your nose?” He asked through a smile as he began to feel your feet. “Wiggle please Mrs Seresin.” 

“This better not be my audition tape for the Madden Brothers Circus.” You didn’t mean to take your hostility out on the doctor who had saved your life, but there was a small part of you that wished he would have just let the blood clot do its damage. You did what you were told once more and wiggled your toes and touched your nose. “Look at me go.”

“Well—“ Doctor Ignatii chuckled to himself as he filled out your charts on his iPad. “You don’t seem to be showing any immediate deficits post surgery, I’d like to give your brain a chance to rest for another ten to twelve hours before we get you out of bed for a little bit of a walk.” You listened to what your doctor was saying as your mother came back into the room, you didn’t know it but Jake had just landed and was heading right over. 

“Does that mean I get more of these awesome drugs?” You asked playfully, your mother even swore you were flirting. Doctor Ignatii was very handsome with brown hair and dark skin. He smiled at your forwardness but nodded in response. He was also used to this. 

“We’ll give you another sedative to make sure you're able to rest, you’ll probably feel like you got hit by a bus when you wake up but it’ll give us a clearer indication if you’ll face any deficits going forward.” 

“You reckon breast cancer’s a deficit?” You couldn't stop thinking about the dream you had about Jake. it felt so real, like your own personal rolodex of memories was trying its best to show you the good times. For whatever reason that may be you had no idea, but, you really had to ground yourself in your own reality. Jake wasn't the Jake from your memories anymore, although you desperately wished he was. He was now the Jake who couldn't remember your birthday or to fill your Christmas stocking on Christmas. He was the guy who let you peel your own oranges after he’d done it for so many years. 

He was the guy who had fallen out of love with you. 

“I do, but your double mastectomy has been rescheduled for Christmas Eve. So what better way to wake up on Christmas morning knowing your chance of kicking cancer's ass just went up by thirty five percent?” It was your turn to smile at Doctor Ignatii as he ended the conversation about your cancer at that. “I’ll send in a nurse to admit the sedative, mum? She’ll be out for a minimum of ten hours while on the IV, you should take the time to get some rest too.” 

“Sure thing Doc.” Your mother answered as she watched him walk away. “Were you flirting with that man?” 

“No harm, he’s seen the inside of my brain, can’t get more intimate then that can you?” You were probably putting on a braver face then you felt but your mother could tell you were nervous about the sedative.. 

“I’ll stay with you for the entire time you're sleeping.” She cooed as she pushed your hair behind your hair. She noticed how stands fell almost with the gust of her fingertip. The chemo was killing your hair follicles. “You won’t be alone.” 

“Thanks.” Was all you said as Lydia came into your room ready to set your IV drop up. “I hope you’ve done this before, kid.” 

“Absolutely Mrs Seresin.” Lydia chuckled, she felt a lot better after a full eight hours of sleep. “I’ll just get this sorted and you’ll be good to go.” As Lydia set up your IV, you had just rough energy to send one message to a dear friend you thought should know about your current state. Your mother watched as you typed out a really quick message with one hand. 

You: “Had a stroke, in hospital, surgery rescheduled.” 

“Promise you’ll stay?” You asked your mum one more time as you saw her reading a text. A text from your ex husband telling her he was about twenty minutes away and running off the five hours of sleep he got before his world got flipped on its head. 

“You’re not going be alone sweetheart.” Your mother answered rather cryptically. As your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. “You’re not gonna be alone.” 

***~***~***~**~***~

“I'm here.” Jake had taken the next flight back to Rhode Island that he could, he didn't have time to waste when it came to getting back to you. He was tired, emotionally exhausted from everything he had learnt of your condition and dishevelled beyond belief. He was sure someone threw a dollar down at him while he was sitting on the floor at the airport next to a charging port. He looked so distressed and dishevelled that someone thought he was homeless. 

He kept that dollar though. 

“Okay, ask the main reception to point you in the direction of oncology and we’re in room 306.” Your mother replied over the phone, Jake had called her about fifteen minutes after you had been administered your sedative. 

Jake felt his heart in the back of his throat as he took the elevator up to the level the lady at the reception desk in the main lobby of the Rhode Island hospital had told him to go to. Oncology equals cancer, you had cancer, breast cancer, you had a stroke, strokes can kill you, cancer can kill you. 

Jake had thought about nothing else since he got on his flight, the idea that you were sick, that you were so sick you couldn't even tell him broke his heart more than you leaving him ever could. There was once a time where Jake thought you could tell him anything, that you were able to come to him with any problem you had or were facing. 

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when you stopped telling him things, or more importantly when he’d stopped listening. Jake couldn't help but to blame himself for feeling like he’d somewhat put you into this situation where you felt like you couldn't rely on him to step up when you needed him to. You were sick and you needed support, he was supposed to be that support, but instead you kept him in the dark like he didn't deserve to know you were ill. 

Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but either way Jake was walking towards room 306 where your mother had told him to go. He brought his duffel with him, Jake made no plans to leave your bedside for the duration of your stay. However long that may be, he was gonna be by your side. 

And the second he got to the threshold of your hospital room, Jake Seresin forgot what it was like to be able to breathe on his own accord. 

“Oh Honey.” He cooed as his bottom lip quivered, your Mother tried her best to remain a strong presence but at the sight of Jake crumbling under the weight of the idea he’d lose you twice over made her eyes water. “Oh my sweet girl.” 

***~***~***~**~***~

“Jake!” You shouted out throughout the house as Lucy and Lenny watched over baby Sam as they ate lunch in the living room.“Jake!” 

“What?” Jake called back to you from the back deck where he was busy doing absolutely nothing but enjoying a beer with his feet up and his sunglasses on. He just needed twenty minutes. Sam had been a handful today and ever since Jake got home he’d wanted nothing more than to use his body as a jungle gym. 

“The faucet in the ensuite won’t stop leaking, can you please tighten it before you get too comfortable.” You asked as politely as you could with a soft smile. 

“Sure, yeah I’ll put it on the list.” Jake shrugged your request off like it was nothing but another chore you were commanding him to do. When Jake didn’t budge, you crossed your arms over your chest and pressed the issue further. 

“It’s just that I’m trying to work on my new book and I can’t concentrate with the dripping.” You were in the middle of your latest project. A new book proposal your editors were waiting on. 

“I said I’d get to it Hon, just—why don’t you try writing somewhere else besides your desk? Or better yet, shut the ensuite door?” Jake couldn’t see the rage burning in your eyes when he told you to basically deal with it until he could be arsed to get up. 

“Jake please?” You begged, it wasn’t the first time you’d asked Jake to fix the leaky faucet but it would be the last. It was one the few final straws that broke your back before you decided enough was enough and you couldn’t stay in your marriage any longer. “I need you to do this one thing for me so I can work in peace.” 

“If it’s so important that it needs to be fixed right this second Hon just fix it yourself?” Jake argued back as he took a sip of his beer, it had been a long week for him and he needed a moment to relax. “You know how to fix a leak.” 

“I already tried!” You shouted back loud enough to finally have Jake taking his glasses off to look at you properly. “I’m trying to work, I’ve had the kids all week and I need to get these last few chapters done before next Friday and you go back to work on Monday.” You saw the look Jake gave you, one of annoyance and frustration, like you were some kind of parasite trying to ruin his day off to relax and enjoy some rest and rejuvenation before Monday rolled around again. 

“Honey if you let me sit here for twenty minutes I will fix the fucking leak for you.” He tried to hide his disdain but you could read it through the lines on his face. “I’m not sure why you can’t just write somewhere where you can’t fucking hear it but I’ll fix it the minute I’m done drinking my beer.” 

“Alright.” You pressed your lips together and tried not to let your anger boil over. “Alright I can live with that.”

“Hallelujah, she can live with compromise.” Jake sassed as he took another sip of his beer. You chose not to respond as you headed back inside the home you both shared with a feeling of under appreciated value looming over your head. What did Jake mean by compromise? You did so much and more for him, why was it such an issue that you’d asked him to fix a faucet. 

He never did get around to fixing it like he said he would. Twenty minutes turned to two hours, which turned to two days, months and eventually It was only when the both of you decided to sell the property when you said you were leaving, that he noticed the leak was never fixed. 

You never did finish that draft, the book that remained unpublished and half finished. You kept the google doc on your laptop and sometimes you thought about picking the project back up. But you never did, you never had time to, not while you were on the cusp of divorce and raising three children all on your own. 

“I uh—I fixed the faucet.” Jake sheepishly told you as he made his way into the kitchen to see you packing plates and bowls and cutlery into moving boxes. 

“The faucet I asked you to fix back in October?” You replied harshly while trying not to look at the man who forgot where you should have been on his priority list. “Glad I compromised on that one for this long.” You hissed, it had only been four days since you told Jake you were leaving, that you were moving back into your mothers place with the kids until you found somewhere to live. 

“Honey—“ 

“Please don’t call me that.” You asked rather simply as Jake's heart broke before you. He was losing his wife, his kids and didn’t know how to fix what he’d unintentionally broken. 

“Don’t go, we can fix this, I don’t want you to go.” 

“Well unfortunately this isn’t about you Jake.” You tried to keep your voice down so that you wouldn’t alert the kids to your argument. If there was one thing you weren’t going to do it was fight in front of your children and subject them to that environment. “Tell me, it’s January right now isn’t it?”

“Yeah?” Jake wasn’t sure what you were getting at as he watched you pack the boxes of things you were taking with you. 

“When’s my birthday?” You asked like he should have known that answer off the top of his head, because he should have and he did. 

“Novem—oh fuck Y/n no hold on a minute.” Jake couldn’t find the words he wanted to say at that moment, how could he forget your birthday? He missed it entirely and you said not a single thing about it. 

“My stocking was the only one empty at Christmas, not a single present under the tree was mine, you know why that is? It’s because for four years I’ve brought my own damn presents and gotten my own fucking birthdays cake, you don’t give a shit about fixing a goddamn fosset so I can focus on work let alone the little things.” You hissed before you tried to calm yourself down and get back to packing. Jake just stood there speechless looking like he hadn’t slept a wink in days. He hadn’t, not since you told him you were done and that you needed a break. 

“I can fix this, please.” Jake was begging you to stay, he didn’t want to lose the one person who meant more to him than life itself. “Just don’t leave me.” 

“There isn’t enough room for me in your life Jake, and instead of being selfish and trying to change you I’d rather let you go to be yourself. People change.” You shrugged. Staying now would have killed you, Jake felt you slipping through his fingers in real time as he watched you wrap up the mugs you were taking in old newspaper. “I sure never thought the man I married would change into someone I don’t even know.” 

***~***~***~**~***~

Jake was at a loss for words when he stepped into your hospital room. The Christmas lights that shimmered around the room were a stark contrast to the plethora of machines that were scattered around your bedside.

“I thought since she’s sleeping the blinds should be shut.” Jake could just barely make out what your mother had told him as she rose to greet him with open arms. He couldn’t peel his eyes off you for even a second as the woman who had become his second mother took him in a warm loving embrace. “She’ll be out for a while sweetheart, they gave her a sedative to help her brain rest.” 

“How long?” Jake asked as he held your mother tight. 

“About ten—maybe twelve hours, she only just started the drip.” 

“Oh—okay, yeah no that.” Jake tried to hold himself together but the damn was breaking. “That’s probably for the b-bet—oh god.” Jake Seresin had never felt his entire body crumbled into someone the way he felt his body crumble into your mothers arms. 

“Oh my boy it’s alright, she’s alive, she’s gonna be okay.” Your mother tried her best to soothe Jake's cries but she knew it was coming from a place of love and undeniable sadness. “Here, sit down, I’ll go get you a coffee and something to eat.” 

Jake took a seat next to your bedside and immediately reached out for your hand. He knew you were under and wouldn’t know he was there but he still brought your palm up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. 

“Oh Honey I’m so sorry this is happening to you.” He sobbed quietly as your mother stood behind him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know.” 

“She hasn’t told anyone but me Jake, not her friends or her brother.” It was hard to process the sight before him, the love of Jake's life surrounded by machines, hooked by cords and wires and monitors that told him although your eyes were closed you were in fact, alive. “I don’t think she wanted you to know because she’s just so scared despite how she might put on a brave face.” 

“Or she thought I wouldn’t care.” Jake mumbled as he reached out to make sure your hair was resting behind your ear, part of your head had been shaved from surgery, but Jake never expected the hair he tried to move back behind your ear to fall out at his touch. “Oh my god—“

“She’s been on oral chemotherapy since her biopsy came back cancerous, she needed you to take the kids so she could start more aggressive IV chemo.” 

“Her hair’s already falling out?” Jake had never felt this way before, so rendered powerless. He’d taken a life before and saved many, but watching you right now was the most powerless he’d ever felt. Jake caught the sight of your phone flashing with a new message with a name he didn't recognise. There was no time to ask you about the message he saw, but jake knew maybe, just maybe, you had lied when you told him there was no other guy. 

Jensen: “Oh shit, I'll swing by once I'm out of the woods.”

“Aggressive cancer needs aggressive treatment sweetheart.” Your mother leaned in to kiss the top of Jake's head. “I’ll be back, coffee and a sandwich will do you good.” 

“Thanks Maz.” Jake sighed as he kept your hand up near his mouth as he leaned his elbows on the side of your bed. “Oh Honey, Honey, Honey—what have we become?”

***~***~***~***~***~***

Your honeymoon was the most beautiful trip you’d ever gone on. Jake Seresin was very much a summer man. He loved when the sun was shining and the water was cool and the beers were as refreshing as they ever could be. 

The resort in Bali that the two of you were staying at for the entire two weeks was nothing but picturesque with stunningly gorgeous gardens and extraordinary architecture. The pool you were sitting on the edge of was just one of the many pools that you and Jake had yet to visit. He stood on the ledge of the rock waterfall and smiled ear to ear. 

“I’m not resuscitating you when you slip and hit your head!” You called out through a beaming smile. 

“Reckon I could clear a backflip?” Jake asked childishly as he climbed to the very top. His abs looked far too perfect to be real as he stood tall and flexed just for you, his wife. 

“Jake Seresin, don't you dare!” You warned as you looked over your sunglasses at your childish husband. He was everything any more, how you got so lucky you'd never understand. The two of you had decided on a small elopement style wedding that saw only a handful of your closest family members in attendance. The both of you saw no need for over the top extremities and thoughts of dollars spent on a single night. You thought why not use the money on a holiday getaway, your dream honeymoon. After Rodney had gone on his happiness never ends tangent, Jake wished the two of you had just gone down to town hall. 

“Live a little Mrs Seresin!” Jake shouted as he took the leap of faith and backflipped off the very top of the man made rock waterfall that cascaded down into the crystal clear pool. The two of you were the only guests in sight which you were so thankful for when Jake came belly flopping down into the water with a crisp slap. 

“Oh!” You cringed hard as your husband hit the water. “That's gotta hurt the ego buddy.” You giggled as you watched Jake swim under the water closer to the edge where you sat just relaxing in the smallest bikini known to mankind. “Jake?” You asked as he crept closer and closer under the water. Your eyes never left his swimming silhouette until he was jumping up right in front of you to rest his elbows on the edge of the pool right in front of you. 

“My execution was a little off.” He grinned as you leaned in to give him a kiss. Unbeknownst to you though as your lips pressed against your husbands, his hands snakes around your waist to quickly drag you into the water where Jake needed you to be. With him, forever. 

“JAKE!” You shouted as you fell into the pool. Jake couldn't contain his laughter. Thank god he remembered you knew how to swim. 

“Yes Honey?” He cooed as you resurfaced with a gasp. 

“You’re a child!” 

“Uh no–I'm not.” Jake made sure to correct you as he pulled you closer under the water. His hand explored your ass as he wrapped your legs around his waist and held you up against him. You could feel his hard on pressing against your core, it wouldn't take much at all for him to slip out of his trunks and into you if he wanted to. 

“But if you want I can show you how they're made?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

[wolvenkingulfiri]

A lesson in life

It's such a beautiful day today, the sun shining, birds chirping, and the smell of fresh cut grass wafting on the gentle breeze. the park is bustling with this nice weather, making people watching quite entertaining. as i walk along the narrow graveled path, i watch the many people i pass along the way, mentally making up stories as i go.

the young thin blonde woman sitting alone on the bench is waiting for her boyfriend, he'd fallen behind on their jog even though he claimed to run regularly. the elderly couple sitting by the pond feeding the ducks strick me as a pair of grandparents enjoying retirement after a lifetime of working hard backbreaking jobs, resulting in both needing a cane and walker in their golden years.

a tall man with short light grey hair, dressed in a business suite, strides along the path in front of me. clearly in a rush yet going slow enough to take in the surronding serenity of the park. we walk the same path for a few more minutes before i stop to enjoy a sip from a nearby fountian. when i get back to my walk, i see the man off in the distance still strolling along at his quickened pace. It's not long before i close some of the distance to a meer thirty feet when i see something fall behind the man.

"Sir, i think you dropped something," i yell out, but the man pays me no mind and continues walking.

i run up and grab the object off the graveled path.

" Sir, you dropped your..." i look up, and the man has vanished.

" wallet..."

it makes no sence, theres still about a block to the exit of the park, yet the man is nowhere to be seen. i look down at the wallet in my hand, a simple brown trifold leather wallet. i open it in hopes of finding the guys id so that i can return it, but to my dismay, there's nothing, not even credit cards or cash. the only thing i find is a thick envelope in the billfold.

i pull the mass of paper from its cramped leathery confines, hoping to find some sort of address or identification, but alas nothing.

all there is is a single name on the front and a wax seal locking the contents away from prying eyes.

"panelope"

the name is written so delicatly and in such a fancy form of cursive i wonder who she is to this man. Is she his wife, daughter...whoever she is, she must mean a lot to this man if he's to write her name in such a way. either that or he's very old-fashioned and has excellent penmanship.

still im left with more questions at this point than answers. from the looks of him, he looked to be in his late sixties and dressed like he was the ceo of some high end firm. however, he was walking through the park in the middle of the day and week, granted so was i, but at least i own my business, so maybe he does as well.

then there's the fact that he had nothing aside from this letter in his wallet.even for someone who is high on the corporate food chain, that is a bit odd not having an id.

i flip the envalope over and examine the seal where i get my first clue, or at least i hope i do. embosed in emerald wax with gold lettering is the name daniel in the same elegant cursive as the name on the front. whoever this daniel person is i have to admitt the man has a certian regal elegance to him. i look around in hopes the man has realized he'd lost something, but i see him nowhere. with no option left and the bitting curiosty of this letters contents, i opt for what could be a bad idea if he does happen to come back to find me reading his letter.

with a heavy sigh, i walk off the path toward a nearby bench overlooking the pond. the sounds of the ducks swimming by and the gentle breeze whispering sweet nothings through the trees. the secrets the letter holds beconning to be read drawing my finger to the seal. i lightly tug at the seal as it gives way, allowing the flap to open, revealing a carefully folded sheet of paper.

in a futiel attempt to contain my curiosity, i gently set the shell down onto my waiting lap. just as expected, the handwritting is as elegant and perfect as the namesake and seal, leaving me mysitifed at how uniform and nearly flawless it is throughout the entire sheet. without hesitation, i start to read.

my dearest panelope,

i miss you with every fiber of my being, and i count every passing second until we're back in each others arms. there's not a moment i dont think about you, your soft, warm kisses, the way your long black hair shines in the afternoon sun. i long for the days when I'd see you smile and giggle at my lame jokes. the truth is i miss every part of you and want so much to hold you agian the way i used to when we got tangled up by the lake with fireflies dancing around us on those warm summer nights.

with all that said, the guys in my unit say I've won the lottery with a woman like you. but then again, i talk about you almost nonstop. things here have been pretty quiet, the weathers nice, when the sun goes down However, so does the temp, making it feel just like home but more humid with large bugs. i swear a masquito was flying around the bunk house the other night, it sounded like a damn helocopter, nearly drank corpral jiggs bone dry.

i guess we're stationed here for a few more months and then shipping out to less hostile territory. but we may be there for a while. capt. louis says so long as things stay quiet here we may get to go home not too long after that, but heres hoping.

with love daniel.

i can't help but think about the man who wrote this and why he would keep something like this in his wallet. just as i place the letter down, i feel a hand rest on my shoulder. i look up and see the man standing behind me, sending a wave of fear and embaresment wash through me.

"I-I..." Is all i get out before he speaks

"i see you found my wallet and my letter." he says as he walks around the bench to sit beside me.

" im sorry, sir. i didn't mean to pry... i just didn't see any id and thought that the letter may have a way to find you or at least the person it's addressed to so i could return it." i stammer out.

"It's ok, young man. but sadly, the people in those letters are long gone from this world." he looks out over the water, shimmering in the setting sun.

"Oh... im sorry to hear that. are you their relative?" i ask, unsure of how to approach it.

"Heh. no... I wrote that letter after boot camp to my wife many years ago." he says, watching a flock of ducks swim past.

" So what happened? it seemed as if things were going alright out there... I mean, you're here, so something went in your favor?" i prod trying to make sense of the situation.

" it was war, son. we got held up in a small abandoned village for days, enemies surronded us, living off rations and leftover cans of food from the people who lived there before fleeing for safer lands. we were down to our last bit of munitions, we fought to the bitter end. just when we thought it was over for us, a new unit can in and mowed them down. we sustained heavey casulties, but a good number of us got to come home. As for panelope, we got to share fifteen years together before she passed. i keep that letter with me to remind myself that when it feels like everything is against you and you're at your lowest, to never give up and keep fighting." he says with a smile, looking back to me.

I look down at the papers and smile as I carefully fold them back up and nestle them back into the envelope.

"Here you go, sir. And again, I'm sorry for snooping." I mutter, handing the envalope back to the old man.

"You know son, in spite of losing my wallet and giving you quite the fright. I'd say we both benefited." He says with a smile as he gingerly slides the envalope into his breast pocket.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Well, you see... I get to reminisce about my beloved panelope, and you get to hear an old man's stories and learn to Never take things for granted and always hold out hope." He replies as he stands.

"And thank you for picking up my wallet. It may be empty with only an old man's scribbles to some. But to me, it means the world."

He gestures as if tipping his hat to me before getting back to the path and vanishing from sight. Leaving me with a lasting impression of a veteran who served through hell to make it home. To inevitably impart a life's worth of wisdom onto a stranger who found a wallet.

[phantomdoofer]

Chapter 9: A Fake Day

As Peppino fumbled with the keys to the pizzeria, he had a sense of foreboding, above and beyond his normal twitchiness. It didn't make sense. Nothing seemed wrong today. The weather was nice. People were just starting to come out, so it was quiet. Noisette waved from across the street. She'd started specializing in coffee and pastries, so she'd been up a while, serving the morning crowd. "Hiiii, Peppino! Hope you have another good day!"

Peppino smiled, if a little weakly. Noisette was a bit annoyingly friendly. I know she has bad days, but you'd never know it. Privately he admitted he was a bit jealous of her near-endless cheer. But what she sees in the Noise, I'll never understand.

As he unlocked the door, he turned and looked out at the village that had sprung up around him. World works in strange ways sometimes.

He felt a hand land gently on his shoulder. He shrieked in reflexive terror.

"Glee hee hee hee," Fake laughed as they oozed down from the ceiling.

"DON'T-A DO THAT!" Peppino yelled. Fake just burbled more laughter. "Oh, you think-a you so funny?" He grabbed the broom. "OUT! OUT! GO FIND-A SOMEWHERE ELSE TO HAUNT TODAY!"

Fake didn't resist. This was something Peppino did regularly. But they just couldn't help messing with the shorter man. They ambled off into the alleyways. Once, the residents would have run from them, yelling and calling for help. But they had finally acclimated to the goopy clone's presence, and now it was just another resident.

For once, it's minds were in agreement. Hungry. They absent-mindedly snapped a few flies out of the air. Ugh, flies, really? Real food! Is real food! Not enough. Ribbit. Find more? Croak.

It ambled behind Noisette's Cafe - usually there were some old pastries and such. Once they'd found a container propped on a trash bin, which they'd downed. The bitter drink had been some of Noise's Super Troll Coffee Blend, and they had hopped from rooftop to rooftop croaking like a set of old brakes for hours. No drink, only food. Fake idly started digging through a trash bin before they heard one farther down tip over. They looked up in time to see a Giant Rat growl a them. Not Peppino-friend-rat. Fake dropped to all fours and growled, their face distorting into a horrifying toothy maw.

The Giant Rat fled in terror. Chase? Eat? Ugh, no. No more rats! Croak.

Fake heard a door open behind it, and quickly reverted to its normal form. Don't want to scare. Noisette was standing there, a bag in hand. "Fakey! Hiii!"

"Hi, NOIIIsette," Fake replied. The first part of her name came out like a frog's croak, but that was OK. She didn't seem to mind.

"Oh, Fake, you're getting better at speaking! I know it's hard for you." She held up the bag. "Hey, you hungry? I've got some pastries here that have gone a bit stale, but you might like them. Do you want them?"

Fake nodded vigorously, and wrapped her in a spiralling hug. Nice one. Ribbit. She's the nicest person here. Ribbit. He opened the bag, and devoured the pastries. She's right, a little stale, but still good. Not bug, but tasty. Croak.

Noisette clapped her hands. "Wow, you must've really been hungry!"

Fake stopped and tilted it's head. "Hungry. But more... nice to us. Thank... You."

"Oh, anytime, Fakey! I know some people think you're a monster, but I know better!"

Croak. We are a monster. But you nice. Protect you, Peppino, Peppino-friends. Ribbit.

Noisette turned and made to close the door. "From now on if you want, just come by about this time and you can have anything like that I have left over! Sorry, gotta go, customers waiting! Byeee!" She closed the door.

Fake waved sadly at the door. "Bye... friend."

What now? Swim. Won't we melt? No, ribbit. Cool, hot day. Maybe fishes! Ugh, can we at least cook it first? What cook? Croak.

Fake ambled off towards the river, following visions of fish and cool water.

~~~~

Fake idly paddled down the river. They'd found a few fish, but fishermen had yelled at them until they left. So they'd moved on, and now they found themselves at the City. Smelly. Been a long time since we were here. They wandered into the city, just to see what there was to see.

~~~~

"Go! Get out, you! Donna, it's another one of those weird things from the tower! Get the other broom!" The woman swung her own broom at Fake.

"Woooooooeeeey!" Fake yelled as they covered their head and ran. The smell of pizza had attracted them - not as good as Peppino's, but still good. They'd found them chewing contentedly on a half-cooked pizza they had snatched from the oven.

Croak, croak! Dangerous, run! It's just one pizza!

They ran into the shadows and hid. Eventually the two woman decided they had been run off and went back inside.

Fake ambled through the shadows of the alley. As they walked, they smelled a familiar scent above. Peppino? It was coming from an open window several stories above. They carefully climbed the side of the building, and peeped over the windowsill.

Inside was an older woman. Not Peppino. But she seemed... familiar, nonetheless. The woman was cooking. The name suddenly popped to mind: Gnocchi di patate. How do we know that? Not bug. Croak. Smells good. Looks like grubs! She sighed, and looked wistfully at a door to the side. Then it opened, and another not-Peppino walked through - tall, thin, with a big nose and just the faintest wisp of a mustache on his face.

Familiar. Who are you? Croak.

The young man kissed the woman on each cheek. "Buon pomeriggio, Mama. Making gnocchi for lunch?"

She didn't look at him. "Sì. It reminds me of him."

The man made an ugly face when she wasn't looking. "Mama, Papa is gone. You know this. The restaurant is gone. Please, you need to move on from this."

Silly girl. She pines like a lovesick teenager! Why do we know what that is? Ribbit.

She didn't seem to hear him. Finally he sighed and took a portion. "Is there anything you need me to get tonight the way home after school, Mama?"

"Yes," she said, "get some pollo and fettuccine. I would make your father's favorite dish."

He sighed. "Sì, Mama. If that's what you want." He finished his meal and kissed her cheek again. "I'll see you tonight, Mama."

She said nothing. He quietly left, closing the door behind him.

Fake was intrigued. They quietly followed the young man.

~~~~

The boy rode a scooter to a large building. A variety of smells wafted about it, some pleasing, some not so much. Culinary school. Tasty! Ugh, stop burning everything! Maybe more food? Ribbit. Fake climbed the building and, on the roof, found it's favorite entryway: an air vent. It oozed through the grate and quietly crawled around, until it found the boy in a room full of people and... ovens? A training kitchen.

One of the others called to the boy. "Ay, Brando! Nice of you to join us, buddy! You ready to show us up again today?"

He smiled. "Donita, you don't have to be like that! You know I work just as hard as you do!

The woman laughed. "Ay, I know that, but not all of us have Bruno Tagliatelle for a father, and a teacher who worships him!"

The young man's face turned an ugly shade. "Donita, please. I asked you not to mention him."

Her smile fell, and she blushed. "Ah- sorry, Bran. I forgot he's a touchy subject for you. But-"

"Yes, he's a legend," the boy said. "Just like Nonno Alphonso. I know." He huffed and sat down, a disgusted look on his face.

Fake moved their face closer to the grate. Crooooak. Why is he so upset? To be the son of someone famous...

The others gathered around him. "Sorry, Bran. We know you're tired of hearing it. And we know how he treated you and your Mama." She patted the boy on the back. "Force of habit."

He looked up and managed a weak smile. "I know. I'm sorry for being so sensibile about it. I just-"

"All right you lot," an loud voice called from out of sight. Fake almost jumped out in surprise. "we've got a lot to do today!"

Fake watched intently as the student cooks started their lessons.

~~~~

Fake sat up. Fell asleep. Dark? Ribbit. Where? The duct was dark - the room below was dark, and the light from the window showed it was nearing sunset. Should leave. Predators at night. Why are we worried about that? We're a seven-foot-tall monster! Scared! Crooooak. Quickly they climbed the duct to the roof. Looking down, Fake saw the students leaving, the boy taking a different route as he walked away, waving. Ribbt. Where's he going? They hopped from rooftop to rooftop, following the boy below. Finally, they reached a strange sight: a barren lot. It looked like a spot where a building would be, but it was surrounded by fencing and police signs. A parking lot and hole in the ground sat empty. Familiar. Why?

The boy stood in front of the fence. On the sign before him, a face appeared: a man's face, round, large-nosed, with a curling mustache. The sign said Bruno's. It looked like an older, darker-haired version of the boy.

Suddenly, a storm of fractured memories flashed across Fake's mind.

Spaghetti, get over here now! Bruno, it's fine, it's his first time, he can't be perfect al- No Papa, if he's going to study here, I demand perfection! This is not your school, boy, it is mine!

No-!

Papa! Come and play Papa! Why won't you just play with him Bruno? He has to be perfect, or my reputation will be ruined! But he's only five, Brun- I was five when I started! No son of mine will be found wanting!

NO-

Papa! Papa! Please don't leave me! You'll be fine, Bruno. You're too good, you don't need me anymore. That's not- please Papa, I'm sorry, I'm... Papa? Papa...??

NO!

Fake held their head, the shards of memory sparkling across their mind, cutting them all into little pieces. They all screamed in agony. The clone writhed on the rooftop, but then a soft voice below drifted up.

My... son? Brando?

"Today went well, Papa."

Fake dragged themselves to the edge and looked down. The boy had his hand on the face on the sign.

"The insegnante says I'm a shoe-in, the best in my class. I don't know. He's in love with your legend." He balled his fists. "And Mama pines for you constantly. Why? You were never nice to her. She was an afterthought, an accessory to your story. Just like me." He looked down. "They say, 'oh, isn't it nice, being the son of Bruno Tagliatelle?'"

Suddenly he punched the sign. Fake jumped. Brando, I-

"Always, always it's about you, Papa. I can't even tell if I actually have the skill or if the insegnante is simply fawning over 'the son of the Great Bruno.'" He looked up, and Fake ducked back, suddenly more afraid to be seen by this boy than anyone else in the world. "Still, I am learning. I will be more than the puppet you raised me to be. I will have nothing else. Someday perhaps, your star will fade, and I can be my own man. Until then, I will continue. I love to cook, I do. Perhaps I can go work for that Spaghetti character. Nonno always spoke highly of him. Perhaps he can judge me properly." He looked back down. "The police say Pizzahead may have been the one to take you. I wish he was around, so I could thank him. For giving me a chance to finally, finally be myself."

Fake cringed. Hates us. He hates us. Oh Brando, what I have done to you...

"It's too bad there will be no grave for you, Papa, so I could avoid it every day."

Fake curled on themselves, a tight ball of pain and misery.

"Perhaps, someday, I can rebuild here, drag us back out of poverty. But it will be my doing. I will see your star fall."

Doughy tears ran down Fake's face. Sorry. We're sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry...

"Goodbye, Papa. I will take care of Mama, as you never did. Rest, not in peace, but in silence."

The boy turned and walked back towards the school.

Fake was a ball of suffering. The memories had cut all the different aspects of their mind to shreds. They flowed and ran together, sharing their pain.

As the sun finally set, Fake croaked and moaned and cried their misery into the starry sky.

~~~~

As Peppino chained his scooter to the bike rack, his thoughts wandered. Fake hasn't been seen for days. He's never gone this long without scaring me. Despite his feelings towards the... what should I call it?... character, he found he was worried. Like most of the others, the runny clone had become a part of his life. It being gone was unsettling.

Don't tell me I've started LIKING the thing!

As he unlocked the door, Peppino noticed a figure on the floor. Who? Wait, it has to be him! He opened the door and flicked the lights on. Something was different. Does he seem more... solid?

The figure didn't move. "Peppino?"

Peppino's hair stood on end a bit. The voice was the same, but less froglike and goopy. More like a normal person. "Fake?" Peppino realized he could actually read the thing's body language now. And it seemed broken, sad. Grieving.

"Peppino, do you hate me?"

Peppino was shocked. This wasn't like Fake. For one thing, he can't talk like this. And such a question! "I.."

Gustavo came in behind him, Brick close behind. "Hey Pep, what's... Huh? Fake? What's... wrong?" Gustavo stared.

"Gus-Gustavo," Fake said. "Do you hate me?"

Gustavo turned pale. "W-what? Why would you ask that?"

"He hates me."

Peppino paled himself. "What? N-no, no I don't." Do I? Looking deep inside, he realized he really didn't. In fact, right now, he only felt sadness and confusion.

Fake turned. Their face was odd. The eyes were still wrong, but the face seemed less runny. Something happened. It's more whole, now. Peppino approached them. "Fake, what-a happened?"

Fake cringed down. "He. He hates me. I hurt him so much. I hurt her. I hurt them. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." They held their head.

Gustavo knelt by the clone. "We don't hate you, Fake. Who are you talking about?"

Fake looked up at Peppino. "I, I hated you. For being who you were. For having what I wanted. I had it and didn't know. And now it's gone." He grabbed his head again. "He hates me. My son. He hates me."

Peppino and Gustavo looked at each other in shock. Their SON? Peppino grabbed Fake's shoulder. "Fake, listen-a to me. Did you remember something? Who you were?"

Fake tilted their head. "We are... not who we were. We're different now. I was... was..."

He grabbed his head again, and seemed to concentrate. Suddenly his face flowed and changed, the face solidifying, the mustache curling, the eyes changing.

Gustavo fell backwards as Peppino stood back, both horrified. "Bruno!" Gustavo said. "That's Bruno Tagliatelle! My old boss!"

Bruno Tagliatelle. My teacher's son, and my old tormentor. He's been right beside me for months! A chill ran through him. He'd hated the man, but... Mio Dio, What did Pizzahead do to him?

Fake's face flowed back into it's normal shape. "I... was. We don't want to be him anymore. We're different now."

Peppino reached for his phone. "I have to-a call Giuseppe! He said-a call him if we found out anything about-a the disappearances! If-a he's Bruno..." suddenly Peppino stopped. "Fake, er, Bruno..."

Fake stood up. "We're not Bruno. Fake is fine."

Peppino was surprised. They're much more... assertive now. Really does remind me of Bruno. "Fake then. Can-a you remember what happened when you- er, Bruno disappeared?"

They concentrated. "Bits. Pieces. Not much. Maybe by the time they get here, we can remember more."

Peppino dialed the number, and moved away to speak to his brother. Gustavo touched Fake's arm. "Are you OK, Fake?"

The clone looked down. "No. But we will be."

Peppino clicked his phone off. "They're on-a their way. Are you OK with this?"

"If it'll help, we'll try." Fake hesitated, then reached out. "Peppino? Can we stay? Here?"

Peppino was confused. "I just called Giuseppe, of course you can stay here!"

Fake shook their head. "No. Can we stay... here. In this place. From now on?"

"You mean-a live here? In the pizzeria?" Oh, now he asks! "I... suppose. Don't you want to live-a somewhere- er, nicer?"

Fake frowned. "No. This is fine. It's... comforting. We don't need much. We can work here. We don't need paying, just food and shelter. And we remember some of... cooking. We can help. We want to help. Are you fine with this?"

Peppino thought, then nodded. "All-a right. But don't-a scare the customers or eat the ingredients! Ask-a first!"

Fake held up a still-curving arm. "Thank you. We promise."

[twomrw]

Love is Round

Previous | Next

Part 4

Mark spots Lauren easily in the sea of students. She's sitting at a table by herself, papers spread out all around her and a look of concentration on her face, not unlike many of the other students in the lounge. But it's her bright pink backpack that stands out. 

He takes a deep breath before making his way to her. He navigates the backpacks and water bottles on the floor with a dexterity that has him so impressed with himself that he startles when he looks up to find that Lauren is already looking at him.

She tilts her head as she studies him and he tries not to squirm. He busies himself with resting his crutches against the table and then taking off his backpack and placing it gently on the seat in front of him. He unzips it and pulls out a food container and a paper bag.

He places the food box in front of Lauren. “Jas sent this…” He places the paper bag on top of the box. “And this is my apology.”

Lauren’s assessing eyes are still on him when he dares to look at her. 

“What are you apologizing for?” She asks and it comes out more confused than accusing.

Now Mark is confused.

“For blowing up at you and stalking out?” His answer comes out more like a question.

“Hmmm.” Lauren looks down at the paper bag in front of her. “I think you should sit down now.”

Mark breathes a sigh of relief before collapsing onto the bench in front of him.

“I'm sorry.” 

His eyes snap up to the girl in front of him, but she's not looking at him anymore.

“You're sorry?” Right, Jas had said something about Lauren feeling bad.

“Yeah. You were right. It wasn't my business. I feel like your reaction was perfectly justified.”

Mark's mouth hangs open.

“Do you think maybe we can start over?” Lauren glances up at him now, her look earnest and apologetic.

“I think that's a great idea.” He sticks out a hand towards her.

“Mark Everest. Former swim team captain and hopeful editor for next week's school newsletter.” He waits with bated breath until Lauren offers him a rueful smile and her hand in his.

“Lauren Andrews. Habitual asker of inappropriate questions and willing co-editor of next week's newsletter.”

Mark breathes an audible sigh of relief and he’s still feeling enough gratitude towards Lauren twenty minutes later to ignore his annoyance at the way she’s getting crumbs onto her keyboard. She’s nibbling on the jam-filled pastry in the paper bag and tapping away at her keyboard with such delight that Mark almost finds it endearing as he sorts through a collection of letters and cards. Almost. Because he really doesn’t mind interrupting her to ask the question that pops into his head.

“Uhh…how should I differentiate the ones that we’re definitely including from the reject pile?”

Lauren pauses her typing and tilts her head to the side in contemplation. “Hmmm…” She reaches into a pocket of her backpack and pulls out a stack of shiny papers. “We can maybe put a sticker on the back…but which one?” She turns to him a sheet of colourful circles in one hand and one of stars in the other.

Mark offers her a helpless look and she shrugs.

“The circles it is. After all, love is round.”

Mark pauses, giving her a strange look. “What?” he asks, incredulous when she provides no further explanation.

“What?” 

“Love is round?”

“Yeah!” She makes it sound like it’s as obvious as the fact that the sky is blue.

“Ummm…” Mark is at a loss for words. “I don’t even know what that means.”

Lauren pauses, considering his confusion. She opens her mouth with certainty and then pauses, closing it. “Hmmmm…” she tries again. “I don’t think it really means anything. It’s just what it is.” 

When Mark gives her another sceptical look, she sighs in frustration. “Like…of the two things love couldn’t be a star. Stars are spikey and sharp and love is…well…it’s not, okay?! I don’t know how else to explain it!” She throws her hands up in exasperation and there’s that warmth in Mark’s chest again. Endearment.

He tamps that feeling down as fast as it rises and he clears his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to take your word for it.” 

He takes the sheet of stickers from her hand and they nod at each other before going back to their original tasks, but Mark is pretty sure they’re both just pretending to work after that exchange. He takes a deep breath but tries to make it as subtle as possible. He can’t understand why his heart is racing like he’s done ten laps in the pool.

He picks up the small stack of traditional letters first. The readers surprised them by including post cards and polaroids and handwritten notes that at first glance you wouldn’t classify as love letters, but on closer inspection there’d be no doubt in your mind. 

Some of the letters are typed though. Mark notices that halfway through his stack as he recognizes the almost beige-coloured paper that the university gives out to students for free. Each student gets a ream at registration every semester and the school insists that it’s because they’re being eco-friendly by giving out recycled paper. The student population, however, sees it for what it really is, the school being cheap.

“There’s good quality recycled paper, you know?” Kerry was always saying.

The amused smile that had been growing on Mark’s face starts to slip and he tries to refocus on the page in front of him to distract from his building anxiety. He breathes in and counts. One. Two. Three. He misses count on his exhale as he scans the words. They’re not very romantic. His brows furrow in confusion. In fact, it reads very platonic. 

He brushes it off and picks up another one. It’s printed on the same beige paper and in that same uppercase typewriter font that students long before figured out was the only font that printed on the horrid paper without smudging and causing endless paper jams. 

He squints at this letter too. It’s sweet, for sure, but again, not very romantic. He shuffles through the pile and finds another one like it. He places all three down side by side and glances among them. If he had to bet, he’d say that the writing style is similar in all of them.

Next to him, Lauren shifts. He glances up at her and there’s a wrinkle in her forehead.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah…” He sounds uncertain even to his own ears.

“You’ve just been looking at those three for a while.” She lets out a nervous laugh.

Mark shakes his head. It sounds like she’s rethinking asking him to do this part of the issue, like he’s taking too long, and he definitely doesn’t think he’s up to writing the main piece so he needs to change her mind and fast.

“Oh I was just thinking that these three letters seemed kinda’ odd.”

“Oh?” She tilts her head in an approximation of curiosity, but something feels off about it. “How come?” 

“Well…” he hesitates, but he needs his name on this issue, “from what I can tell, they sound really similar.” He looks up at her, “I think they were all written by the same person.”

“So? Someone could have submitted multiple letters,” Lauren shrugs, all practiced nonchalance and it confuses Mark.

He nods, “Yeah…but they’re not very romantic.”

Lauren gasps and clutches her chest, “Rude!”

“I mean, they’re sweet, but still not—”

“Besides, love letters don’t have to be romantic. There’s nowhere we said explicitly that they had to be romantic!” She interrupts him haughtily.

Mark is about to concede to her thinking when he finally takes in her reaction. He pauses, eyes narrowing at her. She’s still worked up and probably about to start another rant when she picks up on his silent study of her. She closes her mouth so quickly it makes a sound so funny that Mark almost bursts out laughing. He doesn’t, though, not when Lauren looks like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

His eyes widen with the realization. “Did you write these letters?” 

She’s silent, but she’s so transparent that he can guess the thoughts racing through her mind as if they were being telegraphed on her forehead. He sees exactly when she thinks about denying it until he gets the assurance that she’s going to admit to it when she physically deflates.

“I was worried no one was going to submit any, so I wrote some of my own, you know? Just in case. Then, the submissions started coming in and they got mixed in together and I had forgotten all about them until I saw you sorting through them. And then I panicked. And you—” She cuts herself off, waiting for him to jump in with something, an accusation, maybe.

Instead he stifles his laughter. “I never took you as someone who’d ratch the results.”

“I didn’t!” She’s adamant and Mark is sure that she misread him trying to hide his amusement as him trying to conceal judgment. She takes a deep breath, before continuing.

“We don’t have to use them, of course. They’re not even really good, but they’re real love letters to real people. There’s one to my parents, one to my friends and one to—”. She shakes her head. “I would never—”

He has to interrupt her now, the amused smile visible on his face now, “I was just teasing. I didn’t mean—” His smile slips as he watches her face fall. “I’m sorry,” he practically whispers.

She shakes her head. “No. I am.” She tries for a smile and misses, instead, huffing out a breath before dropping her head to the table in front of her. “I was just so worried about this issue. It’s the first time Dr Mubita’s given me free rein over an issue.” She sighs again. “And it felt like such a big vote of confidence. I– I really didn’t want to let him down. But no one was submitting letters and…” she rolls her head to the side to look at him, “I’m really glad to have your help.”

Mark isn’t able to hide his surprise based on the way Lauren startles and sits back up in her seat as though she’s admitted something she wasn’t supposed to. 

She clears her throat. 

“I'm really glad to be of help. Otherwise, all now I would be practicing my spirit hands.”

Lauren's brows furrow as she tilts her head in confusion. Again, Mark has to ignore the warmth flooding his chest. He distracts himself by demonstrating.

The wrinkles in Lauren's forehead move to the corners of her eyes as she grins. Laughter seeps into her voice as she asks, “Do you mean spirit fingers?”

Mark shrugs, smiling himself, “I think you just proved my point, that I'm better off right here.”

“Yeah. I don't know what I would do without your help. Especially because I have to cover the swim meet next week and I had to do so much prep for that, learning all the Rowley team member names—”

Mark jumps at the words ‘swim meet’, interrupting her, “Wait! What time is it?”

She glances at her computer screen. “It’s a little after four.”

“Shoot!” Mark jumps up, shoving his things into his backpack. He grabs a stack of letters. “Can I take these?”

Lauren, a bit startled and unsure about what’s happening, nods. “Yeah. Sure. What’s happening?”

“I promised Antoine I’d give him some pointers after practice today.”

“Did he ask you to do that?”

Mark’s a little taken aback at how harsh Lauren’s tone is. He stops to look at her and her facial expression matches her tone. He answers without thinking, turning to stack all the letters and fit them into his pocket folder without crumpling them, “No! No! I volunteered. Since—” he stops talking before he admits to something he really shouldn’t say to one of the school newspaper editors if he wants it to remain a secret.

When Lauren doesn’t respond, he glances down at her and he can’t quite decipher the look on her face, but he’s sure that it’s not good. He’s sure that she thinks he’s blowing her off again, just in a different way. He’s quick to assure her.

“Don’t worry about the issue. I’ll have my picks for you to review by tomorrow for the latest, probably by tonight actually.”

“That wasn’t– I wasn’t—” Lauren brings a hand up to her forehead with a sigh of frustration. She tries again. “Mark? Do you—” 

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and when she opens them again he stills, something in her look telling him that what she says next will be important.

“Do you think that you owe it to him to spend time in the place that you’ve essentially been locked out from because you got hurt? Do you think you owe it to the team because you can’t compete this semester?”

Mark opens his mouth, a denial already on his tongue when Lauren’s brows tilt up in… sympathy, pity? Mark doesn’t think he could tell the difference at this point. He doesn’t think it matters anyway, because he has bigger issues at hand. Either Lauren is really perceptive or he’s being very obvious about this whole mess.

He turns away from her, finally fitting the folder back into his bag. “I– I have to go,” he mutters before stepping away from the table and hefting his bag over a shoulder. It’s not lost on him that this is the second time he’s running off on her. He opens his mouth to say— what? He doesn’t know.

“Okay.” She says. And it’s gentle, kind. “Okay,” she repeats and it’s more than Mark thinks he deserves.

Previous | Next

More Love is Round: Love is Round and Other Stories

More of my Writing: Masterlist

[yandere--stuck]

Hello, okay I. am. Obsessed. With you’re joker fics 💕💕💞💞 if you ever write anymore don’t be shy to tag me in them if you want. Kay? :D

Have a nice day! :DDDD

@thephantomnoseblower

Aaaaaa thank you so so much!! I'm so glad you like them! Also I'm so happy to meet another Joker Liker. He's the best!! 💚💚💚

And! You inspired me to write more, so I made some general Yandere!J Headcanons. I hope you like them ^^

---

💜 When it came to love, the Clown Prince of Crime could find it most anywhere, if he looked hard enough. In his mortal enemy, in his former psychiatrist, and… In you. You don't have to be anyone of particular importance, or of a particular personality - really, Joker could build rapport and hit it off with most anyone. Or, at least, that's what he believed. Joker liked you, grew to love you, exactly as you were. After all, you accepted him and took him exactly as he was, without pleading to be let go or have mercy, begging him to change and reform. No, no, no, you were different. Sweet. Charming. Funny!

🃏It's a hostage situation, when he first met you, got real up close and personal with you. The other hostages all trembled and whimpered in the corner, looked over by his men. But you seemed calm, whether you were brave enough or so afraid you had gone frozen didn't really matter. It was a bore waiting for the news crew and the Bat, so he went around, talking to the civilians - a mix between making idle chat and intimidating them to tears. None of them could bother to even speak, some bursting into tears. Finally, he made his way over to you, kneeling down to your level. "How about you, dear? How's your night going?" Your heart rabitted within your chest. You could barely breathe, but you tried to steel yourself. Show no fear. You managed to exhale with hyperventilating, a breathy chuckle escaping your throat. "Eh, could be better, I'm not gonna lie." The Clown snickered, which egged you on. This was good, right? You continued, "It's my first time as a hostage, so I hope I'm doing it right." The Joker beamed as he barked out a laugh. "You're doing just fine! At least someone here has a good sense of humor."

💚 It wasn't long before police helicopters began to swarm the building the Joker had stashed you in. Through the glass exterior of the high rise, you watched as the choppers circled the building, circled the Joker and his men, circled you and your fellow hostages. Somehow, dread managed to sink even further into the pit of your stomach. The GCPD had a poor reputation for a reason - filled with corrupt, crooked, and reckless cops. The entire police force was filled with more bad apples than good. Someone here was going to get hurt. God, why couldn't they have just waited for Batman to deal with this?! Through the glass, you could hear the voice of an officer shout something unintelligible. The Joker turned to one of his men, tilting his head toward the copter. "Tell 'em I'm not talking to anyone but Bats." The lackey seemed to hesitate, but only for a second, fumbling to pick up a speakerphone while also keeping his weapon in hand. He approached the chopper, stepping out onto the balcony, raising the speakerphone- and you let out a scream as a shot rang in the air, the man flying back as he was shot.

💜 The other hostages descended into hysterics as Joker's men began firing back at the chopper. "And I thought I was crazy," The Joker spat. "I thought these guys were supposed to be protecting you." You winced as glass shattered, shards exploding into the room. You opened your eyes, staring straight down the barrel of the helicopter's aerial gun- and in an instant you were pulled away, pressed against a solid chest as you were pulled away. You began to hyperventilate, heart beating so hard you could barely comprehend what was happening, vision swimming as you began to lose consciousness in your panic. As your vision faded, Joker's visage came into view. You felt a hand cup the side of your face. And then, it all went black.

🃏 You woke up not long after. People don't really stay passed out after fainting, just a minute or two, really. Long enough for police to storm the building and find you, taking you to safety. You were transferred to a hospital, where you were overlooked. You had minor cuts and bruises, the only major damage being that of psychological trauma. Before they released you, you watched a news report of the crime - the one you had just been a victim of. The Joker had managed to escape. Most of his men were taken out. It was a miracle that none of the other hostages hadn't died, and Gordon reprimanded his men and their reckless actions. But, you knew nothing would change. In spite of the traumatic experience you had been through, you knew you couldn't seek help for it. Mental health was a very, very touchy subject in Gotham. If someone caught you going to therapy, they'd probably think you're just one bad day away from becoming Gotham's next supercriminal. Life returned to relative normalcy… Until you received a package. It was specifically labeled "CARE PACKAGE" on the side in black marker. It was heavy, slightly damp at the bottom, had a foul odor, and had no return address. You hesitated, not knowing what to do with it… Before deciding to bite the bullet and open it. It contained a bouquet of flowers, (containing one trick flower that spurted out water, drenching your face), a whoopee cushion, a teddy bear, a heart-shaped box of chocolates, and… Your eyes widened in horror and disgust. The last three items were a note, a Joker playing card, and… A human heart. You hesitantly reached in, making sure not to touch the organ as you did, shaking as you read the note. "So sorry the other night, my dear! I didn't expect things to get quite so hairy. Those animals! If they had hurt a hair on your head, it'd be no more Mr. Nice Joker! I wanted to check in on you and make sure you're doing well. I know that if I don't get proper care after something nasty, I go a bit looney, myself. I just wanted to look out for my favorite hostage! … And perhaps, something more? See you soon, love. ~ J" Oh, God. Oh, God. Your legs went weak as you slowly sunk to the floor. You suddenly realized you had been crying.

💚 Joker liked you. Joker more than liked you. After your first meeting, he couldn't get you out of his head. He was obsessed! He was… In love. He was so glad that Harley understood and was supportive. You and he were meant to be. He'd ask Harley or his men to spy on you, gathering the information they knew. What you liked, your schedule, your favorite foods, what made you laugh. And if he got any word that his fellow Rogues were targeting places you frequented, they'd get an earful from him! And a bullet to the brain if they didn't take him seriously… He couldn't let harm come to you. And he had to make it perfect for when he finally took you home, with him. Forever.

[rafescoke]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: The second one I was hoping could be a Rafe x reader based on the song why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys. Maybe something along the lines of rafe only calling and giving the reader attention when he wants to hook up. Finally, the reader gets tired of it their feelings known.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about a certain boy more than what they had agreed on

Warnings: Hella angst, mentions of sex, masterbating, substance, cursing, toxic relationship

A/N: I’ve been updating a new fic every single day and the amount of love you guys are returning is beyond amazing. I love you so much, thank you for all of your kind words <3

p.s, again, my request box is always open. drop in any ideas and i’ll present to you my best :)

p.p.s, does anyone know why i can’t tag some users? im going crazy.

“I was thinking. . .” Rafe trailed, drawing invisible circles against her soft skin. She hummed in response, her eyes closed, feeling so relaxed under the silk bedsheet wrapping around her body.

“We should do this often.”

“Is twice a day isn’t enough for you?” she asked, hiding her smile. She felt him shift, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. She giggled lightly, feeling him behind her, but she was too tired to do anything.

“We should try doing it every minute,” he simply replied, smelling into her scent. She smelt like vanilla and caramel, just the way he likes it. “Is this the perfume I bought?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, feeling so peaceful she could sleep if he hadn’t pulled her closer against his hardening member. She groaned, trying to scoot forward by an inch, but was stopped by his fingers gripping her hips.

“I’m sore.”

“I know,” he replied casually, still brushing against her bottom. Before he could do anything else she turned, now facing him. She looked at his handsome face, his blue eyes and his soft lips. Her thumb grazed over his top lip, and Rafe swore he could fuck her anytime soon if she kept doing that.

“Are you not tired?” she asked, now cupping his face. He stared into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them before giving her a smile.

“No.”

“You’re mental,” she sighed, but she failed to contain her laugh after. She giggled, still cupping his face, and she has never felt so calm and relax before. Just them two, on top of a bed in some cheap motel, sometimes hearing the couple staying on top of them screaming at each other.

“Are you?” he continued, tilting his head into her hands. She smiled when he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. He loves it. He feels at peace.

(Y/N) sighed, loving yet also hating these kind of moments where she knew they would be acting like strangers after, in front of everyone else. She remembered the exact day after she had had sex with him for the first time, and how he acted so cold afterwards.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, standing beside his form as he squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to inspect his goal. He didn’t reply, swinging his golf club upwards and hit the golf ball. (Y/N) watched as it flew and landed near the goal, and expressed a smile.

“You’re good.”

“Huh?” he looked up to her, as if just noticed her existence. (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart, especially when he had just whispered so many love words into her ear the night before.

“I said you’re good.”

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, already making his way back to where his friends were. Clearly not satisfied, she followed him suit, watching as his friends cheered for him. Rafe groaned even harder, and turned to look at her before they got too close to his friends.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he scolded, his eyes staring at a space beside her. (Y/N) raised a brow, being caught off guard, but she tried to play it cool.

“I’m a member of this country club too, Rafe,” she replied, scoffing. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? Are we not going to talk about last ni-”

“Shut up,” he grunted, looking backwards to check on his friends before pulling her a few distance away. “Look, I was on drugs last night. That was not me. Let it go, okay?”

(Y/N) has never experienced that kind of disrespect, and she swore she hated Rafe Cameron so bad that when she got home, she cried against her pillows until the night sky greeted her. 

She thought about the many other guys who tried to be with her, but she had pushed them all away for a certain rich boy living 6 houses away from her. The fact that her parents are good friends with Ward and Rose Cameron doesn’t make it any easier, not when she is forced to see him every single Saturday night for ‘barbecue night’.

“What are you thinking?” he suddenly spoke, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, suddenly scooting away from him. He watched as she turned away, but he didn’t put much thoughts into it.

“I can still smell the weed from you,” she suddenly said, and Rafe let out a laugh. He rubbed his eyes, hating the fact that they are going to repeat the same topic they have fought countless of times before, especially after sex and they had both came down from the high.

“Don’t start, (Y/N), fuck,” he sighed, covering his face with his large hands. He watched as she scooted further, wrapping the covers around her body. “Can you please just lay right next to me?”

“I want to sleep,” she replied, and bit her lips before she could express any tears. Rafe sighed, groaning, and sat up straight, resting on the edge of the bed before reaching for his jeans discarded on the corner of the room.

“I’m leaving,” he said, and (Y/N) heard the metal bar of his belt clanking against his jeans button. “Since you wanna act like a bitch again.”

“You’re an asshole,” she replied, still not looking at him. A tear rolled down her cheeks before she could stop herself, and she quickly wiped them away.

“Whatever,” he said, and she heard the door slammed shut. She cursed, unable to stop her tears now that she was alone. The banter between the husband and wife from the room above filled the silence as (Y/N) sobbed against the pillow and she thought about how it resembled her and Rafe’s relationship so much.

He would call her when he’s under the influence, whispering sweet-nothings through the phone, saying how much he’s missing her and longing for her forehead kisses. The fight they had before the phone call will immediately evaporate into thin air, and (Y/N) will make her way to wherever Rafe is. Sometimes they’ll do it in the car in a secluded alley or sometimes in the cheap motel at Chapel Hill. 

But then it was the moments after their brief meeting that had her all moody and depress throughout the week; how he would ignore her, pretending not to see her and forcing himself to say ‘hi’ during their family barbecue.

(Y/N) never thought of herself as someone who’s prone to being in a sneaky relationship, but if that what it takes to be with Rafe Cameron, she was willing to be in one.

It had been a week since the incidence, and Rafe hadn’t call her to meet or anything of the sort. (Y/N) frowned when she thought of this, because the longest fight they had before only lasted for 2 days before he rang her up, asking to meet up. 

(Y/N) shook her head, sipping on her martini before setting it on the side of the swimming pool. She dived into the water, trying to get the heat from the scorching sun off of her, and resurfaced seconds after, her wet hair falling down her shoulders.

“(Y/N), where’s dad?” Topper appeared, squatting in front of her as she took another sip on the martini. Her eyes fell to the figure behind her brother, and she almost choked on the liquid.

“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, staring at Rafe Cameron as he took out his phone to check on his messages, ignoring her like always. She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that there were no new texts and he was just trying to act like she wasn’t there. She dived into the water again and swam to the other side, away from Rafe and his negative energy.

If Rafe knew she was going to be in the swimming pool, he would have made an excuse to Topper, perhaps saying how he has to take Wheezie to the clinic for an appointment. (Y/N) was almost never home every time he hang out with Topper, so he thought he was safe. But there she was; in the most tempting bikini, swimming and constantly sipping on a martini.

Rafe sat right next to Topper, watching her back from the corners of his eyes as she gazed at the view in front of her. She was laying on her arms, lazily humming to a rock song Rafe plays every time he’s driving.

He jolted when Topper touched his hand. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Topper laughed, “I said, do you wanna eat?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and thinking about good she looked in that bikini. He made a mental note to guess the brand to purchase more of that sort for her. 

“Okay, I’m going in to get myself some food. Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Topper asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. Rafe nodded, his eyes still closed, and heard him walking towards the sliding door into the kitchen.

“Why are you ignoring me?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, and to his satisfaction, the girl with the (H/C) locks stared at him with her face rested against her arms. His breath hitched, seeing how beautiful she was with the chlorine water dripping from her face, down to her neck, continuing to her che-

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” she suddenly said, and Rafe had to shook his head from the involuntary thought that appeared in his mind. He groaned, watching as she dived in the water again, and almost catching a glimpse of her bottom. He smiled.

“Are you still a bitch?” he asked when she resurfaced, crossing his arms. “Because if you are, I don’t feel like fucking you right here and right now.”

(Y/N) halted her movements as she tried her best not to look at the smirking boy, and instead staring into the swimming pool as if there was something interesting in it. Rafe laughed, knowing exactly the impact of his words towards her, and thought about wanting to have a little more fun with her.

“I’m asking, baby,” he said softly, and her eyes landed on his. “Are you still a bitch?”

“I brought cookies!” Topper suddenly yelled, appearing from the sliding door and walking towards them with a bright smile. Rafe cursed, laying his back against the seat again and pretending to close his eyes while (Y/N) dived underwater, trying to hide her red face. He was glad when Topper handed him a cookie, talking about wanting to surf tomorrow - so oblivious towards the sexual tension between him and his own twin.

“What do you think?” Topper asked, munching on the cookies all the while trying to see Rafe’s reaction. Rafe nodded, muttering his agreement, but under his sunglasses, he was watching (Y/N) and she too, was watching him.

“Can I have a cookie, Tops?” (Y/N) suddenly interrupted, and without looking at her, Topper gave her a thumbs up sign. (Y/N) smiled, pulling herself up from the pool and Rafe almost had a heart attack from the sight of her curves donning the bikini and the water dripping off of her.

She walked towards them, hair swept to her left shoulder, and Rafe’s gaze followed her fingers as she grabbed a cookie and immediately putting it in her mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet taste, all the while sitting under the glowing sun that highlighted her features even more.

He could feel himself getting harder.

“Well,” (Y/N) suddenly said, and Rafe had realized he was too busy looking at her to realize that she was already conversing with Topper. “I’ll go. Is Rafe coming too?” 

Both of the siblings’ attention fell towards him, and Rafe found himself clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, where are we?”

“Man, are you sure you’re okay?” Topper asked, removing his sunglasses to look at him clearly. “Do you need water?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rafe quickly added, “Can I, um, go up to your room? I think I need a nap.”

“Yeah, okay,” Topper replied, not thinking much of it. They had been spending so much time under the sun during the summer, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them got sick. “I’ll go upstairs in a second.”

He muttered a thanks, quickly making his way to the top of the house, where Topper stayed. He groaned, feeling himself getting harder, and hating the fact that she was most probably liking the way he was reacting. 

He locked the door of the bathroom he has been using since the first day he became friends with Topper, watching himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes while he tried to picture her in his mind, his fingers trying their best to untie the knot of the band of his swimming shorts.

He held himself in the palm of his hands as he pictured her again, this time with her under him. He started sliding his palm over his hardened member, his other hand safely placed on the sink for balance. He thought of the way she’ll bounce on him when she rides him, and bit his lips before he could let out any sounds.

Fuck. 

He hated how easy she’ll make him hard and how she has him wrapped around her finger. It was true how they would only do the unholy thing when he was under the influence or they were both under the influence, but he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling in his stomach every time he saw her.

“Fuck,” he expressed, his grip on the sink tightening. His movements became faster as he tried to picture her mouth and around him, and felt his end coming. He left a string of curses as he finally released himself, watching the shot dripping off the sides of the sink. He grunted, having to do more work, and grabbed himself the white tissues before wiping his mess.

. . .

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rafe,” (Y/N) said, trying to maintain her normal tone. She bit her lips at the sound of his heavy breathing, missing his voice and also his handsome face. She longed to have his face in her hands again, staring at each other’s eyes and kissing each other’s lips right after.

“Can you come over?” he asked, his voice slurring. “No, I mean, can I pick you up?” The sound of laughter and booming music could be heard behind him, giving out his location. (Y/N) sighed, knowing the exact request behind the words, and looked at her wall to check on the time.

“It’s 12 a.m., my mom won’t allow me to go out.”

“Sneak out, then,” Rafe replied, and he said something to his friends before focusing back on her. “Please? I missed you.”

(Y/N) sighed, knowing exactly her problem.

This.

“Okay,” she replied, leaning over her mattress to close her laptop now that she had new plans for the night. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I can’t drive right now,” he said, suddenly realizing how sloshed he was. “Can you come and pick me up, please?”

She sighed again, but she had missed him so much. Him and his touches. His and his words.

Him.

“Okay, send me your location, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

(Y/N) thought about how she couldn’t do it anymore. Not when she has spent most of her life trying to make him love her. He had been friends with her brother since forever, but yet he never seemed to settle on her. She heard about the amount of girls he dated and how she tried to become like them, but after a while, she grew bored of it. She was tired of running after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

Until the night at the party, where they had been smoking and doing coke and god knows what else. (Y/N) had watched him from the corners of her eyes, liking how attractive he looked under the party lights. He was in a black shirt, his hair messily parted, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“Thornton, do you know how perfect your smile is?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/N) giggled, her back against the wall as she stared into his eyes. 

“You’re mistaking me for my brother, Rafe?” she asked, with that smile again. Rafe licked his lips, looking down to hers before leaning closer to whisper into her ear.

“I’ve got to confess, (Y/N),” he whispered, sending shivers down to her spine. “You’re the hottest sibling.”

When she woke up the next day, laying right next to Rafe Cameron, she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure that she was living in reality, but when she tried to approach him that evening on the golf course, it was like nothing happened that night.

It scarred her until he rang her up again, six days after. 

“Rafe,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning over to open the passenger’s door from her seat, seeing how drunk he was. Rafe giggled, getting himself in before shutting the door and staring at her. He leaned towards her and placed a sloppy kiss against her cheeks, down to her neck and stopped directly before her chest.

“Just park in the back,” he ordered, placing his palm on the upper side of her thigh, too close to her heat. She bit her lips as she turned her steering wheel, entering the back alley of the club. Soon after he had texted her his location, she sneaked out through her brother’s porch and stole his car, driving straight towards Rafe.

She turned the ignition off and looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, groaning when he missed one button. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hand away, her face expressing into anger.

“Don’t pull this shit again, fuck,” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back against the seat and covering his face with his hands. (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a gold ring, and noticed how it looked so similar to hers hanging around her neck.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, filling the silence. Rafe let out a shrill laugh, still closing his eyes.

“Still a bitch, I guess.”

“This is the problem, Rafe!” she groaned, causing Rafe to look at her fully in the face when he noticed her increasing volume. “What are we?”

“What do you want to hear?” he simply said, staring at her with empty eyes. He licked his lips, “No, seriously. Tell me the answer, and I’ll say it.”

How cold could he be?

“Rafe, do you see how you’re treating me?” she asked, and she could feel her tears threatening to fall. “Do you realize the difference between sober Rafe and intoxicated Rafe?”

Of course he knew. He just chose to ignore it.

“I can’t do this right now,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in defeat. “Can we just fuck, get over whatever fight we’re having right now, and live our best lives the next day? Can we do that?”

He turned to look at her, and noticed her glassy eyes. He sighed, trying to cup her face, but she flinched at his touch.

“You make me feel like a whore,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “One second you love me, the next second you’re spitting on me.”

He just had the worst night of his life; having a fight with Ward about his business, bumping onto the pogues, catching Sarah and John B. . . and now this?

“You think too much,” he said, but his heartbeat was quickening. He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared at him with empty eyes. “I’m sober now. You know what, (Y/N)? You’re right. I can’t even look at you when I’m not under the influence.”

He turned to open the door, getting out while buttoning his shirt back, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t stand it, he knew he’ll be too broken if he sees her cry over him. He didn’t know what to do; he panicked, never preparing for this exact moment where he knew she will ask about the state of their relationship.

He watched as she sped away from the alley, her engine roaring against the silence of that particular Friday night, where his day had been nothing but miserable. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to contain his feelings, but before he knew it, he had kicked on the empty beer can on the side of the road, watching its movement as it hit the opposite wall and fell into the trash can.

He laughed at the strange occurrence, his tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and made his way back to the club.

If there’s one thing he’s so sure about himself; Rafe Cameron hates himself more than anyone else in the world.

-

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[baroquebucky]

hello!! how are you? i was wondering if i could request a little something with Bucky where the reader convinced him to go to the beach with them, and by the end of the day they confess to each other? i know it’s oddly specific, but i hope you can do it! thank you so so so much!🥺💓

a/n: i hope ur doing well !! sorry if this took a while ,, i hope you enjoy pls ignore any typos <3 also let’s just pretend like there’s a beach near the compound okay cool thank u (requests open !)

bucky finds out he only loves the beach because of you

masterlist

You narrowed your eyes, hoping to make Bucky crack under pressure.

“It’s just one day! Cmon it’ll be fun!” You protested, groaning as Bucky smirked as he licked his lips, turning away from you.

“i don’t like the beach” he stated simply, shrugging his shoulders and focusing on the tv infront of him.

“well too bad, it’s not even a whole day, just one afternoon please bucky” you pouted, putting on hand on his thigh and looking at him pleadingly.

Bucky felt his heart rate spike, you were so cute, he would do anything for you. But no, he hated the beach, the sand would get everywhere and it’s so hot.

“sorry y/n” Bucky shrugged and you sighed, getting up from the couch and heading to your room, wondering how to convince the super soldier to go.

The next day you were sat next to Sam, complaining about how Bucky wouldn’t go with you.

“i told him it would be so bad, i was gonna confess and everything i had it all planned out” you spoke, voice lowered so only sam could hear.

He was quiet for a few moments, coming up with a plan quickly, a smirk on his face as Bucky entered the living room.

“yeah I’ll go to the beach with you” Sam spoke, a charming smile on his face, Bucky turned to face the two of you.

You furrowed your brows but quickly caught on, a smile breaking onto your face. Throwing your arms around sam you squealed.

“yay! I’ll pack the sandwiches and fruits right now, i have my change of clothes packed already” you smiled, Bucky looking at you with doe eyes.

“oh hi buck” you grinned, moving past him.

“you’re uh- you going with Wilson?” Bucky spoke, clearing his throat and trying to hide his jealousy.

“yeah, you didn’t wanna go so i figured I’d go with someone else” you shrugged, eyeing him.

“wh- i never said no” Bucky protested, watching you fill the basket with some of his favorite fruits. “technically speaking i never actually rejected the offer” he continued.

You furrowed your eyebrows and stopped moving for a second.

“I guess you didn’t huh, but you said you hate the beach so” you trailed off, closing the basket and making eye contact with the super soldier.

“cant be that bad if I’m with you doll” he smirked and you blushed, clearing your throat and looking down at the basket.

“so you do wanna go to the beach” you stated, walking past him and setting the basket on the counter near the door, sitting back down on the couch near sam.

“yeah” Bucky spoke, turning to face you and you nodded. Sam fought the smile on his face, acting like he had to take a call, leaving only the two of you in the living room.

“okay well you should back some towels and stuff then” you stated and Bucky nodded, getting up and going to his room to get everything he needed.

Sam soon emerged from the hall, a smirk on his face as you broke out into a fit of giggles.

“Sam Wilson you genius” you grinned, hugging him.

“i know, i know, now you go have fun, for the love of god i hope he finally admits he liked you” he groaned, “tired of seeing him pining all the damn time.”

You took your bag and the basket and set them in the backseat of the car, making sure you had everything and waiting in the drivers seat, music playing from the speakers.

Bucky soon walked out, setting his bag in the backseat and hopping in the passengers seat.

“Sam said he had a netting come up so he couldn’t come” he turned to you and you nodded, turning the volume up a bit.

“guess you’re stuck with just me huh” you joked and Bucky smiled, looking out the window as you pulled away from the compound.

The drive was long, but with Bucky there to crack jokes you felt the time fly by. Singing songs he had learned from your playlists and humming along to some 40’s songs you had grown to love because of Bucky.

When you finally arrived, your stomach was growling, jumping out of the car and pulling Bucky along to a nice table near the shore, only a little bit away from the sand.

You both unpacked the food, handing each other your favorite fruits and some other snacks you packed.

“i don’t know what you do but these are so good” bucky smiled after finishing the sandwiched you had packed, giving him the rest of yours once you got full.

“i think we were just really hungry because that was the best one I’ve ever made” you spoke, drinking some water and resting your chin in your hand.

“I was thinking we can go for a swim and then change and then go for a walk while the sunsets” you spoke, watching as the super soldier put the glass containers back into the basket, carefully closing it because focusing his attention back to you.

“sounds great doll” he grinned, getting up with you to go put the basket back in the car.

“race you to the water” you giggled, taking off before you even finished your sentence, stretching your legs as far as they go to try and outrun him.

Bucky smiled as you ran, he waited a couple second knowing he could easily catch up. He closed the car door and sprinted after you, grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around right before you got to the water.

“that’s cheating! I would’ve beat you!” You laughed, squirming in his arms so he would set you down. Bucky smiled at you as you poured at him, arms crossed.

“i gave you a 5 second head start and you’re complaining?” He teased and you hugged, flailing your arms in the air.

“look at me I’m Bucky and i can run so fast” you mocked, lowering your voice to imitate him.

“I don’t even talk like that!” he argued, frowning as you mocked him.

“i don’t even talk like that” you giggled as he frowned, quickly swooping you off the ground and running into the water.

“wait i was joking!” You spoke, eyes widening as a wave crashed into both of you, soaking you to the bone and both of your hair dripping wet, clothes clinging to your bodies.

“i was joking!” Bucky replied, making his voice a higher pitch to mock you, a smirk on his lips as you looked at him in shock.

The two of you messed around in the water for a while, eventually getting out and heading to some showers to change before the sun began to set.

You two met back at the car, Bucky in a t shirt and some shorts and you in float shorts and a hawaii t shirt he absolutely despised.

“you brought that shirt? Really?” He groaned and you smiled at him.

“it’s the beach!” You beamed at him, his gaze softening as you smiled at him.

“only you could pull that off doll face” he smiled and you blushed, closing the car door and mumbling something to yourself.

The two of you talked softly as the sunset, smiling at each other’s comments and acredites while the waves hit the sand. You don’t know how far you had walked when you stopped, looking at the red and pinks of the sky, taking a deep breath and looking at Bucky.

“i have to tell you something” you spoke, wringing your hands together and looking at Bucky as he walked closer to you.

“what is it?” he replied, concern written on his face as he looked around for any danger.

“i just- okay well for a long time” you began, fumbling with your words and moving your hands, “okay well not long but kind of long” you rambled, looking at Bucky who was confused. You shook your head and continued.

“after a while of knowing you i was just- i like you, and not like a friend- yes like a friend but more as in like like you” you paused for a moment, “you know?” You stopped and looked him in the eyes.

Bucky could hear your heart rate over the sound of the waves and seagulls, he could hear how fast it was thumping. He could also hear his, a steady beating in his ears as his face flushed and smile broke onto his face.

You, the girl of his dreams, the girl he thought was out of his league liked him. You opened your mouth, about to start rambling but Bucky wasn’t going to give you the chance.

In one quick stride he cupped your face in his hands and pressed your lips together, kissing you deeply, a smile on your face as you gladly returned the kiss.

You both pulled away, lips pink and faces hot. Seconds passed and you were the first to speak up.

“so do you like me” you questioned, chewing on your bottom lip and Buckys mouth fell open.

“we just made out and you think there’s a chance i don’t like you?” He smirked as you fumbled over your words.

“i do like you doll, i want you to be mine, i want to hold you and kiss you and i want you by my side” bucky smiled, looking at you as you smiled, your heartbeat steady in his ears.

“will you be mine?” he asked and you nodded, throwing yourself onto him and he smiled, your legs wrapped around his waist. Bucky placed a soft kiss on your cheek as he set you down.

“so is that a yes” he teased and you rolled your eyes, letting out a groan.

“you know what i take it back” you joked, crossing your arms and walking away from him. Bucky smirked as you grabbed your wrist softly, pulling you to him and connecting your lips.

Your knees grew weak as he pulled away, biting your bottom lip softly.

“still take it back?” he teased and you swallowed your words, rolling your eyes and smiling at him.

Your fingers were laced the whole walk back to the car, smiling at each other and giggling at anything the other said.

Both of you were smitten and neither of you bothered to hide it, proudly telling sam the second you walked back into the compound, the rest of the team cheering for the two of you.

“about damn time” Sam smirked, patting Bucky on the shoulder and giving you a hug.

“Bruce you owe me $20” Nat smiled and the scientist laughed, protesting on how they never shook hands.

Amidst the chaos the two of you slipped away, heading to shower and change before meeting up in Buckys room to watch some movies.

“M happy i can call you mine doll” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head softly and you hummed in agreement.

“I’m glad i finally bagged the most attractive avenger” you grinned, loving the way he blushed at your comment. You moved closer to bucky, you head resting on his chest, the steady sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep as the movie played in the background.

Bucky smiled as your breathing steadied, heart growing as everything finally hit him. You were his. You were his and he was gonna do everything he could to give you the world.

[thatonecoryosimp]

The Devil's Mercenary Part 9. Technoblade X reader. Love Locked

I'm finally getting the next chapter out, I'll be updating and writing some things today cause I'm not at school, I'm sick. I'm waiting for the meds to kick in right now so it doesn't feel like my head is imploding. This is a Dream chapter, wink wink, nudge nudge.

I've been rly sick the last week or so, and my relationship status is now complicated, so y'know.

Warnings: Smut, Mommy kink, Dom reader, Sub Dream, words like "baby, pet, whore." Beware.

Date: 10/5/2021

Series Masterlist

I was going about my day, as usual, my shoes crunched along the ground as I watched the colored leaves shake in the wind. Fall was such a beautiful season, everything sparkled in such a way, one that could melt the heart of even the most brutal of people.

The crisp air made its way through my hair, I could swear I could see it, dancing in its mysterious way, moving to its own tune.

The birds were heard chirping and I watched as small critters ran along the ground, basking in the sun's warm light.

And while fall was a very beautiful season, it was also very melancholy. It, like everything else, held two sides. While the land and the trees and the animals rejoiced in the cooling temperatures, and they turned to magnificent colors.

The thought arises that even if they are beautiful, they're still going to die. This was the leaves' last blaze of glory, its final bow. Some fell sooner than others, and in a few weeks, the rest would join. Dotting the Earth in their colors for a short time before losing them. Going brown, then to fall into obscurity.

It could almost make me sad to think about, but right now I could still enjoy the wonder the beginning of fall brought.

I felt the timber basket swish in my hand and I looked down to see a songbird, it had landed on the lid of the wooden container and started to peck at the whisker.

A chuckle formed as I stared at the gray and yellow bird.

"Well hello, little guy," I laughed. The bird's eyes met my own and it started to twitter. Its beak barely opening in closing. I grinned as I looked at the small animal.

"Aren't you just a little cutey?"

"Are you talking to a bird?" My eyes shot up and the basket jolted with my body, this had startled the bird causing it to fly off. I huffed as I watched the flurry of gray and yellow fly off.

"What was that for?" I glared at him.

I could see the blond stand up with a laugh, his emerald eyes blazing as he looked at me.

"I'm sorry I scared your little friend away," he walked closer to me with an almost loving smile on his lips, "Maybe we should eat to take your mind off it?" I felt him take the handle from me before putting one of his hands on the small of my back.

I slightly leaned into his side as I let myself react to his touch. My eyes closed again and a breath left my lips. I felt my nose scrunch slightly, this was only a deal, that's all it was. It wasn't anything else. This wasn't cheating, I wasn't even officially dating Wilbur.

I felt bad, I really did, but whenever I looked at him or was around him, I felt so right.

My eyes opened and I looked up at the man that caused my problems.

"I think this should be a good place, hmm?" I lost eye contact with him as I glanced around. The sight of the autumn trees brought a smile to my lips, it was so enchanting. The sun was setting in the distance, still peaking out over the treetops.

"Yeah," I answered breathily, "this is nice."

He sat the basket on the ground and pulled out the blanket stored in there. He unfolded it before ruffling it through the air, I watched it unfurl before it was placed on the slightly bumpy grown.

I sat down first, soon to be joined by the man that called me here.

I was the one to start unloading the food, taking out tasty concoctions Niki and I had made the night before, she hadn't questioned why I had wanted to bake so late, just happily obliged to help me.

As I sat out the last of the food I looked at him with a questioning stare, he was already looking at me, his eyes flickered in the last rays of sunlight, he had a dopey smile on his face.

"Why did you ask me to come here today?" I asked. I could see him slightly falter before picking up one of his favorite treats, it was a double-stuffed chocolate loaf cake, I had baked it for him before, and he constantly begged me for more.

"I wanted to tell you some things, I'm going to be talking to Wilbur tomorrow but I knew you'd want to be caught up." My eyebrows furrowed as I picked up a sandwich.

"Go on."

He smiled at me and took a bite of his cake, "I wanted to offer L'manburg their freedom."

My eyes widened as I looked at him, "What's the catch?"

"That there would be an election, an old friend of mine offered me a proposition. That I give L'manburg their freedom, if he could run for president, all I would have to do is be his endorsement."

I looked at him with widened eyes, if Wilbur agreed, he could win, I know he would win.

"Who's your 'old friend'," I questioned, still slightly skeptical.

"JShlatt."

The name sounded slightly familiar, I just couldn't put my finger on it. I nodded my head, my eyes were unfocused as I looked at him.

Before I could say anything else, he interrupted again, I could see him take a quick inhale of breath, "There's one more thing I would like to run by you." I stared at him, but he was looking at the ground.

A hum fell from my lips as I continued eating my food.

"I would like to temporarily put the killing part of our deal on hold."

That definitely caught my attention, "So we would just be fucking?"

He paused a minute, looking at me, then at the ground, I could see him struggling to find the right wording, "Yeah..."

I could hear his voice trail, there was something else there, but at the moment I didn't feel like pushing.

Other thoughts were swimming through my head at that moment, so many questions that would be left unanswered for the time being.

That would make it cheating, wouldn't it?

I could tell he noticed my hesitancy.

"Hey," he mumbled, scooching closer to me, his hand cupped my jaw as he looked at me.

"How about we take your mind off it?"

I looked at him with slightly glazed eyes, "How?" I saw him smile. The moon started to rise from the other side of the trees, I could see fireflies winding through the trees as I stared at the man in front of me.

He stood up and grabbed something out of his pocket, and as the moon rose I saw lanterns turn on all around me, light illuminated his features as he stared down at me with his hand held out.

I heard music start to play, it was low, almost like a wedding song.

"Would you dance with me?" my hands were placed in his as he pulled me up.

My body was swirled into his body. He held me close, his feet finding a rhythm with the melodies. His smile was sweet, and the way he held me with such purpose made my heart melt.

He twirled us around the open area. My head rested on his chest. My eyes were closed as one of his hands was wrapped around mine. My arm was rung around his neck.

The mood was made better when I accidentally stepped on his foot, both of us started laughing as I kept stumbling.

His body shook as he buried his nose in my hair. The arm around my waist tightened around me.

"You're such a klutz," he mumbled.

It was a jab, yes, but it was soft. He was kidding. I could hear him mumble something else under his breath.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it, gorgeous."

I felt him press his lips to my forehead as the music slowed to a stop. We stood there for a few seconds. It was peaceful, standing there with him, away from everything. He made me feel loved.

He pulled away and guided me back to the picnic area. I could see a squirrel ruffling through some of the food. A laugh tumbled from my throat as I watched Dream panic.

"My cake!" he bellowed as he ran over. The critter raced off as the large man stumbled over. He looked over the picnic area and whined as he saw the crumbs of his cake. He sat back dejected, head held low.

My heart slightly sputtered as I looked at him, something came over me as I walked over to him. My pointer finger hooked under his chin and I pulled his head up. He looked at me with big puppy dog eyes.

"Do you want me to make you feel better?" with that the mood shifted, it was charged, electric. His eyes widened before he nodded

"Yes, please."

I smiled and bent down and pressed my lips to his. I broke the kiss and sat down on his lap. One arm got thrown around his neck and the other got placed on the middle of his chest.

I connected our lips again with a smile, I felt him whine again as I began to put pressure on his middle, he leaned back on the blanket so now I was straddling his hips.

I once again pulled away, he looked at me with such big eyes as I sat upright completely.

"Please..." I heard him mumble. A smile pulled on my lips.

"In a minute, baby. You'll get what you want."

I pulled my shirt off my body as I looked back at him. His hands went to my bare hips but I pushed them off.

"Not yet pup, mommy's working still."

he nodded and tried to sit still, watching me with hungry eyes, I stood up for s second to take off my pants. I knew he was watching me, and I was going to milk every second.

I pulled off the pants and hooked my thumbs in my underwear. I slowly started pulling them off. I slipped them over my feet and sat back down. I grabbed his hands and brought them to my back.

He unhooked my bra and pulled it off, throwing it to the side. I began to palm him through his pants, a groan tumbled from his lips at the sensation.

It was rather easy to pull them off, just a quick tug and they were down to his thighs. I crawled the rest of the way down his body and took him in my mouth. I felt his hands land in my hair.

"Mommy," he moaned, "oh please, mommy."

My head started to bob faster as I felt him tug at my hair. His thighs clenched a bit and I pulled off him.

I looked up at him as his hands fell from me, he had a look of confusion on his face.

"Don't worry baby, mommy's gonna take care of you."

I quickly placed my entrance over his shaft before sinking down. A loud moan fell from my baby's lips as he grabbed my hips. His head was thrown back as he bit his lips between his teeth.

I gently started to rock back and forth, before starting to slightly bounce. Leaning forward so I was resting on his chest. I could listen to him as so many moans fell from him. His hips sputtered as I started a little faster.

His hair was messed up, his head was thrown back, his face was flushed, and his eyebrows were scrunched up.

"You look like such a little whore." I moaned, watching as my words had an instant reaction. His hips coming up to meet mine.

"Are you mommy's little whore, huh? Huh, prince?"

"Yes-" there was a break where you could just hear his panting and skin slapping together, "Fuck, I'm such a whore for you mommy."

A moan sounded from my lips as I continued to chase both our highs.

"Am I being a good boy, mommy? Please tell me I'm being a good boy," I heard him moan.

"Yes baby, you're being such a good boy," I paused for a moment, my own breath becoming ragged, "Such a good boy for me."

It wasn't long before I felt his thighs clench up again, "Mommy, I need- I need to cum, please."

I nodded, "Cum for me, come on, baby."

My hips sped up slightly, just enough to tip him over the edge, I felt my own high tumble over me as I stopped, I felt him fill me up with warm hot ropes.

Our breathing slowly regulated as we laid there.

"Do you feel better now?" I asked.

"Yes, so much better."

~Jules

~~~~

I got kinda tired towards the end so I'm sorry if it's kinda shitty, I think I should lay down for a bit. Have a nice day lovelys, take care of yourselves, drink water. Love you guys.

[jadelynlace]

ink drinker / Modern Vikings AU, Ivar x F!Reader, Chapter 3

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note & content warning: mentions of depression, self harm and suicidal thoughts; all pertaining to Ivar, not reader. mentions of therapy, medication and past history of self inflicted & blooming trauma. please read at your own risk. my messages are always, always open for anyone who may ever need a listener. anything in italics indicates a flash back. there are so many fucking feelings in this chapter that I just, am apologizing now. but there’s smut!

✎

It was gloomy the morning you remembered finally catching a glimpse of Ivar’s scars. Adorned and nearly smothered by him in his bed, the small snores from him somewhere draped across your skin, traveling over the plains in warm boulders. You were always drawn to the artwork on his limbs, there was always a smaller detail you missed and found within your next search but through the endless gazes you finally caught sight of the jagged white flesh. The since healed lacerations and your medical knowledge took full force of your mind. They were scars, they were healed scars, but they were scars from the straight edge of a razor blade. With such precision and such aftermath you knew they were the scars with one intent within their making. And they were there to tell you the secret horrors Ivar had not yet spoken—that there was a point where he felt his heart should no longer beat, and his lungs should no longer fill and that his life was meaningless. And that he should end it.

*

“Can I ask you something?” You finally find yourself mumbling; words floating through the cabin of the parked ambulance on stand by. Hvitserk’s coffee halfway through to his stomach when you peep in such a meek voice he almost coughs the molten liquid back out.

“Yeah, of course, Y/N,”

“How bad is Ivar’s depression?” And you simply ask. No foreword to the speech, no coating of sugar or dusting of fake joy. As blunt as you had been trained to voice the death of a loved one to their family. “I saw the medication in his cabinet, and I saw the scars on his wrists. I know it’s none of my business because he’s your brother, but…” and you can’t find a lie to justify it. Not ready to spill to your partner about the times Ivar had spilled into the condoms with you.

“Bad,” Hvitserk says, and just as bluntly. “He…he tried to kill himself in college. I don’t know if you’ve noticed how he’s never available Saturdays from eleven to noon, but that’s when he has therapy. I had been trying to convince him since high school to see someone, and Floki finally got through to him not too long ago,” He adds. “When I got that phone call from mom that he was in the hospital—I felt like such a failure, Y/N, because I knew it was coming and I did nothing to stop it,” Your hand goes to his wrist for a second, a quick squeeze of added support as you listen.

“Sometimes people refuse what’s good for them, Hvitty,” You start. “You should know that—how many times have we explained to someone why they should go to the hospital with us, but they still refuse?” He finally cracks a smile at that. “Do you think he’s in a better place now, mentally?”

“Either that, or he’s just stable. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Ivar doesn’t like to talk about his feelings…”

“Wow Hvitserk, I had no idea,” You tease, nudging him with both your elbow and sarcastic tone as the voice on the radio fills into the cabin. Your stand by is over and the conversation is dropped as you leave the scene.

*

There had been instances where you think he might be ready; he might understand that the new gifting of your relationship status might help him to realize you aren’t joking when you offer to listen. You’d listen to Ivar talk until he ran out of things to say if it came to that. More times now the words perched themselves on his lips, ready to spring forwards but he keeps pulling them back. He keeps swallowing them because they’re mixed like bile and stew and far too gross, far too un-human for him to even want to try to speak them to you. And then Ivar kicks himself for drowning these demons who have started to learn to swim and he sees you in your uniform and remembers that nothing phases you. You watch open heart surgery on the television while you eat his mother’s lasagna without a care in the world or a realization that what you were doing is unusual. 

“Can I talk to you?” Ivar says bluntly, sitting like a cowered dog in the living room and you’re hardly through his front door when he asks. You can feel how your head rises slowly, a quick snarky word to come back but you bite down on your tongue so roughly you can taste blood as you just look at him. You have never seen a man of his stature try to look so small, try to be so invisible. Worry comes to your face just as quickly as the next breath passes through your diaphragm and you’re on the couch before you even take your shoes off. “It’s messy,” He finally admits. Shallow and dead and you can see the broken boy that has tried to hide himself through the bulked muscles and the tattoos; the glare through his blue eyes and the curved lip.

“Most of what involves the human body is messy, Ivar,” You find yourself saying back, and it sounds pathetic to your ears. It sounds like you’re trying to tell the parent of a dead child that you know how they feel but you don’t. And you never will. But Ivar shedding this skin for you feels like you’re walking through the motions on a call, eyes from crowds of people crawling over and stuck on your every move. And every move that comes next like they’re watching a soap opera with their dinner and they’ve disconnect that what is happening is real, it’s someones life. Just like how you have to disconnect. But in this moment it’s Ivar, and you’re present. 

“Like paint,” Ivar mumbles next. 

“Yeah, like paint,” You repeat and there’s a smile on your lips for a second. “Ivar? You don’t do that anymore, do you?” You finally find the courage to ask.

“No,” Ivar says as he glances down at his right hand’s wrist, shoving the skin next to the sweatshirt he’s wearing as if rubbing it on the gray cotton will make those scars dissipate. “I get tattoos instead,” That causes a sick button to click in your consciousness as to why Ivar is so heavily covered from his shoulders to his ankles in artwork. How the sting of the needle dawning the creations reminded him of the blade he tried to use to make the mess of thoughts fly away. To make the demons come free through his skin and leave him with peace, if only a moment. 

“What helps? What helps you stay present?” You ask. Ivar blinks far too many times, sorting through his brain for the answers as if it’s a container of memorabilia that’s so unorganized even his mother can’t stand the sight of it.

“My brothers help, sometimes,” He says. “I think about how devastated my mom would be. I think about Floki. I think about all of the people in my life who say they want me here even when my mind is trying to tell me I don’t deserve to be.”

“I want you here, Ivar.” You say back and catch how he looks at you when you admit such.

“Why? Have you seen yourself, Y/N? You could have anyone you want and you choose me…” The sentence breaks your heart but you now know the darkness the climbs between his ears. The seed planted so long ago in the depths of brown ground somewhere and you want to pull it from the mental garden. You want to rip the roots right from the soil and burn them so they never have a chance to infest any farther.

“No one makes me feel the way you do, Ivar,” Are the first words from your mouth. “You make me smile, you make me feel important—you remind me how to escape. Even on the worst possible days I can have, you bring me back to reality.” You want to tell him how he’s addicting, how there’s a quality to him you can’t articulate but always keeps you coming back. How you want to keep coming back because both your mind, and your body know it’s safe. How he was someone so mysterious from the outside but past every highly built wall is a man who is just so simply himself. “Because you’re you, Ivar. With the bachelor’s degree in calculus, and the copious amounts of tattoos, and a heart of gold that…you forget that you have,” You finally add. “You’re someone different to the rest of the world, but you’re the real Ivar around me,” You worry that the silence that over takes him is a sign of something else. A sign that you spoke too much, again, and scarred him for more than he could withstand. And then he smiles. 

But you can’t understand why—why he smiles for someone like you. The one who let him design your first ever tattoo to his heart’s content. The one who has the same twisted sense of humor. The one who will bicker back and challenge him. The one who gets to see him fall apart between your legs. The one who makes him hard, and has him make those noises. The moans, the heavy panting and rasped groans as he bottoms out and moves through you. The one who gets to watch how his eyes snap shut, and his mouth drops open when you clench around him; how his entire back tenses when he’s close. How he holds you as he fills the rubber with everything he has. The man who loves your nails trailing on his skin. The man who smothers you every night that he spends with you, and every morning when you wake and he’s still there. Making you coffee and cooking you breakfast. How he knows your takeout order from your favorite places, and your work schedule. What food to have at his own apartment, and what movies he should have on demand. The spare clothes he keeps there for when you come over after work, ready to take the ambulance grime from your skin. The pads that are in his bathroom closet, the painkillers. The bottle of “girly white wine” that he won’t admit to drinking too, because it is damn good wine. The man who knows to check in with you during the day, and again to make sure you really are alright. The same man who knows if you don’t text him back, you and Hvitserk have gone knee deep into either a bullshit call, or a tragic one. As shocked as you were that he was listening to what you were saying—and taking it to heart—you were stunned that you hadn’t caught on to how obvious it was that Ivar was in love with you. Even with all of the time you spend crammed between your own thoughts.

“There’s a lot to sort through,” Ivar says again.

“That’s okay, Ivar,” You remind him, your head resting on his shoulder and you feel him shift, move his arm to encompass you as you curl against his side.

“You smell like bleach,” He softly laughs, his nose deep against your hair and you snort, reminded of the decontamination duties you were gifted from the calls today.

“Better than Hvitserk, who got puked on,” You reply. “Shower?” And you can feel Ivar nod against you. 

His hands don’t move rapidly to shed your clothing, or to shed his own. There’s a certain calmness through his motions as he waits for the water to warm, slipping your polo from your shoulders, and planting his lips in its wake. Against the base of your neck, your spine, hugging your body flush against his in front of the mirror. Your eyes catch sight of his hands coming back around you, squeezing your breasts and you can’t stop the moan that crawls from your mouth. The traces of artwork on his fingers as his lips move from your neck, to the shell of your ear and graze your pulse point. There’s a push from your backside against his groin, and Ivar growls in response, humming not far after as you feel how his cock hardens the farther his hands roam.   

Down your sides, your abdomen, swirling through your folds and dipping between them to catch your juices. Circling against the bundle of nerves he knows so precisely and you moan twice as loudly, and he does too as you moisten to his fingers. Your hands move to grab at him, anywhere they can and you find one hand holding his neck and the other wrapping around his length. Your nails crawl to his hair, pulling the locks down as his fingers take to moving quickly, spreading your womanhood and arousal and you suddenly can’t wait much longer to have him. And he can tell by how you whimper, whisper to him about how you want to feel him inside of you and there’s no fight anywhere on his body to try to deny the tone of your begging. Ivar’s eyes catch yours in the mirror as he finally pushes into you, the cold porcelain sink calming the heat of your skin as he bottoms out and rests his body against yours. There’s a sinful moan that comes through his lips as his eyes bore into yours, with the squeeze from your walls and warmth you spread through him and at first he can’t move, he only wants to savor it. His eyes finally close as he slips away from you, pushing in once more as your body rocks to the sink, singing back to him as the steam from the forgotten shower starts to fog against the mirror. Your name is through his lips as he moves, tattooed hands coming to find yours as he moves your body with each thrust, each timed sensation and you feel your own orgasm approaching. His mouth open on your ear, eyes screwed shut between love and ecstasy as his breath tickles down your face and you’re close now, far closer and far faster than you’ve ever been

“Ivar—” comes your voice and there’s only a hum in response, wordlessly pleading for you to let go because he’s got you, and you know that. Your knuckles white washed against his as you finish, shaking against the sink and you miss how Ivar’s eyes watch you unfold. Studying the pleasure laced in your features. 

“Where, baby?” He says quickly, and you shudder as you remember he’s bare now, condom long since forgotten but there are still the small pills you swallow. Still working somewhere you know of, but the accuracy decreases when you take them irregularly—and there’s a big part of your life that calls for that to happen. The alarming lights and loud tones. But you know that you’re safe. With Ivar you’re always safe.

“Inside,” You finally say, his hips stopping to starve off the inevitable as he waits for you to be sure, as he waits to see the seriousness on your face so he knows you aren’t lying in the heat of the moment. And you have to say it again for him to start up again, remind him that you have a safety net. The sensitivity in your cunt melts as he keeps moving and you can tell another orgasm is starting to build. Ivar reaches from your hand quickly and starts his fingers against your clit, quick circles as you hear him get louder, feel his other arm move to crush you and you catch his face as he finishes. The sight searing in your vision and colliding with how he moves with you and your second release rolls through you. His seed spilling and you both moan, his lips still plastered against your ear and you can feel the shake through his whole body as he floats back down. The tense in his thighs pushing you against the counter. There’s a whimper next from him, as he stills, wrapping tightly to hold you there, like it was all a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. 

“I love you,” You hear him say against your skin and you’re right there to repeat it back to him. “You don’t have to mean it,” He then tries and you already know what he’s doing.

“I do, Ivar,” You say back, trying to make him look at you through the mirror but his eyes are still closed. He slowly slips from you, his release sticking between your thighs as he slides away and you’re only then able to turn in his arms. Reaching forwards to pull his mouth against his. “I love you. You and me Ivar, against the world,” You say and he hums at that, a small snicker not far after. 

“I like how that sounds, baby,” His smile comes next, dopey and boyish as he finally looks into your eyes and understands that you don’t doubt any part of him. You love it all—the good and the bad and the evil things he may think about himself. You love them all because you know he feels the same way when it comes to you. “The hot water’s going to run out soon,” He mumbles as he holds you. And standing in the shower is not much more different, still wrapped up safely in his arms as you both feel the troubles melt down the drain.

Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @victoria-styles @queen-sarang   @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @youbloodymadgenius @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @walkxthexmoon  @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon @love-all-things-writing @mighty-ragnarssons @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @quantumlocked310

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full masterlist can be found here.

[selinakidreams]

Hello my love can i please request that you follow up on this lovely work of art you deposited in my ask box? Ty ty

oh oh oh what is this? the lovely carter (and val- in spirit) dropping in my inbox and requesting for me (???????) to write,,,,,,,,,,, I’m honored and will happily accept.

I am so so so so so sorry this took me so long to write,, it’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks,,,, I hope this makes up for it 🥺 I tweaked it a bit and I think it works,,, better now ? hopefully !!

warnings: this is smutty, SLIGHT voyerism,  dubcon turned to con, p♥︎rn with like.. a dash of plot ? maybe ?, fem! reader, thigh riding, uh riding dick right after, LIGHT MENTIONS of fwb! Osamu,, ah ha haa — NO INCEST.

Dinners with the Miyas: a weekly tradition since... before you could remember. Once a week, you and your family would gather at the Miya’s house for a homemade feast.

In hindsight, it was a really nice way for two life-long best friends, both of your guys’ moms, and their loved ones to get together and catch up after a busy week- but as a girl dealing with a pair of twins a year older than herself, it was absolute hell. 

At first, you used to despise having to get properly dressed just to eat dinner with your family friends. All that effort and for what? You see them all the time at school already, what’s so special about coming together for dinner once a week? And honestly, you were just going to get dirtied up anyways. Their beautiful blooming garden was calling your name and who were you to deny it?

You’d often find yourself frolicking among the tall blades of grass and colorful flowers, the wind swaying the plants to and fro. It was so calming to sit and watch the bees buzz around and pollinate. Needless to say, this is the boys’ cue to come into the picture; they always ruined your fun. The twins started growing into... boys, meaning they were an absolute nuisance.

It all started on a gloomy day; it had rained a few hours prior to the meetup and the Miya’s garden was- of course- muddy, but you just couldn’t resist. You tried to be as careful as you could, especially after the continuous complaints from your mother about how dirty you were when you showed up to the dinner table, but somebody decided to sabotage that.

A cold, wet slab of goop slapped you square in the face. With eyes growing wide, you turned to the culprit. An obnoxious laugh left Atsumu Miya’s mouth and in the same breath managed to call you ugly. You didn’t know what to do besides look down; you felt tears prick your lash line and you didn’t want that bully of a boy to see you cry. When you lifted your gaze to find the back door to run to, you paused upon seeing more mud flying through the air- only it wasn’t at you this time. It’s target was Atsumu- the launcher, Osamu. Finishing the embarrassing blow, the twin pointedly said the same phrase that was spat at you, before turning to you and apologizing for his idiot brother’s actions. Needless to say, after that Osamu Miya became your knight in shining armor.

As the years pass, they started to come over to your house more. When the boys were in your room, they (mainly the more wide-eyed, now blonde-haired, insatiably curious one) poked and prodded where their gazes didn’t belong. Osamu always tried his hardest to reil his brother in, attempting to put things back and apologizing every once in a while.it was painfully easy to realize that your perspective about him about him shifted; The politeness. The calm. The sensibility. He was kind and considerate. Your view on Osamu began to change into something of want, and oddly enough, it wasn’t pure.

You and osamu grew closer in ways you weren’t expecting; he was your first sexual everything. First kiss, first touch, first fuck- and with every intimate moment you both shared, the level of respect and maturity was extremely high. There was only one issue, whatever one miya wanted, the other wanted it just as bad.

Atsumu’s gaze on you lasted longer and longer, his tricks were getting more and more perverse- anything he could do to cause a little mischief and ripen the sexual tension he began to build between the two of you. But even the kiddie wrestling matches, flipping up your skirt, and lingering touches became boring; none of his little teases seemed to satisfy him anymore.

He was jealous. He had to be. Osamu never boasted, much less muttered a single word about what you two did when you were alone but Atsumu wasn’t dumb. He knew one of the Miya’s were getting their dick wet and it certainly wasn’t him. He was becoming impatient, but to you, he seemed really on edge- so much so, that one night you found yourself in one of the most compromising positions with the honey-haired idiot.

The three of you were chatting about the twins’ most recent volleyball match in your room, waiting for your moms’ wine induced giggles to subside and finnish the food already.

With lit up eyes, Atsumu was boasting about how they’d achieved their first quick when Osamu pardoned himself so he could use the restroom. 

“AWHH ‘SAMU, YOURE GONNA MISS THE BEST PART.” Tsumu loudly whined. 

“i was there, idiot. just keep telling her the story, i’ll be back.” he rolled his eyes before leaving the room.

He sucked his teeth before turning to you to continue the story only to find your eyes glued to find Osamu’s fleeting figure. You looked almost dazed out and Atsumu couldn’t believe it. Right in front of his eyes, you were eye-fucking his twin brother instead of listening to him.

Absolutely not.

Part of you should not be surprised. You looked away for just a few seconds- just enough for Atsumu to be annoyed that the attention wasn’t on him. Now you found yourself pinned to the floor, both wrists in one of his big hands, the other holding your hips down. You let out a squeal as you tried squirming out of his grasp.... that was until his knee firmly placed itself against your crotch in just the right place. You swear up and down that you didn’t mean to but there was a surprised gasp that shouldn’t have left your mouth. It almost sounded like... the thought stilled your body.

atsumu took note of this. 

In a low murmur, he leaned incredibly close and whispered, “how’s that pretty pussy of yers feelin right now?”

It sent a violent pink tinge to your cheeks and a bolt of arousal down your spine, your slick spreading against your underwear and the top of his jeanclad knee. A clench of your thighs meant this was going exactly where he wanted it to- his wait was over.

“ ‘m waiting for an answer, princess.” he tutted, his face only getting closer to yours while he applied more pressure against your throbbing vulva. 

It was never like this with ‘samu. This... was almost exciting for you. Something teetering the lines of flavorful and troublesome. The little voice in your head was screaming at you but the aching desire in your pussy was louder.

“Ah!- atsumu! what are you doing?” you whimper, trying to hide your face. There were so many thoughts racing through your mind, the logical part of you wanted to hear them all out but in the moment you were so overwhelmed. There needed to be control in such a situation; You tried to shift around to loosen his grip, accidentally applying pressure that was welcoming it the most, causing a breathy moan to escape your lips and your eyes to clamp shut.

“mmm well, you’re so focused on my brother, i thought i’d show you what you were missin if you started payin more attention to me.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and you whine. This position was so compromising.

He trailed the hand that weighed down your waist up the curves of your side and took your jaw in his hand. He turned your face and when you peeked open your eyes, your gaze was met with his.

“I want you to cum on my thigh.”

Eyes wide, you tried shaking your head to no avail. His grip was so strong. “Atsumu no!! Osamu’s gonna get back and dinner is gonna be done soon and just- no!” You squeal.

“Y’still have time,” he said calmly, “ ‘samu’s probably checkin on dinner... so yeh better start... or else. Y’know what? I could just continue this though dinner. Slide my hand up ye’thigh under the table...” he started, letting go of your face and ghosting his hand down your body. The thought of his big hands palming over your clit while a finger is dipped into your warm pool flashed in your mind. You clenched, and boy, he felt it.

“Mmm, did my pretty girl think about my fingers- fingers that could reach places yours can’t?” He grinned as he watched you follow his hand with your eyes. “maybe you’d like it if i play with your clit under the table, hm? right next to my brother-” 

“no no! here. right now.” is all you could manage to get out. your head was swimming with all that could happen, it only got hazier when you felt the pressure on your cunt lessen- you wanted it back. “Ts-sumu.. i..” 

“i know, i know... but first i want you to cum on my thigh if you want my fingers that badly. I want you whiny and desperate, rubbing that pretty cunt all over me. Moaning my name.”

That’s how you found yourself stuffed in your small closet, you desk chair pulled away from its rightful place,

With his throbbing cock fighting against the cage of his pants and heavy pants leaving his lips, his hands could only find relief on your waist- assisting you in your delishious movements.

His noises weren’t the only ones to be heard, you were trying so hard to contain them but nothing is coming of it. Short little high pitched whines rung in Atsumu s ears- but what really got him were the whimpers of “fuck tsumi,” when the angle hit your clit just right and the squeeze of his biceps as you threw your head back. As soon as he experienced that, he needed you to cum right then and there. And not on his thigh.

“Nope- fuck, we’re switching it up,” he mumbled as he stopped your hips from grinding down. Your mind was a mess but all you could think about in your extremely aroused state was that you needed to cum.

“Atsumu wh-“ before you could even finish your question, he unzipped his pants and uncovered himself from his boxers, his angry cockhead slapping his torso and smearing pre-cum on his skin.

“On- now, Princess.”

There was no need for protests; he was expecting one to come out but instead he felt your soft hands lightly grip his bulging head and give a few strokes before all he heard in that cramped, dark closet was, “you’re so .. big.”

Eyes wide, a garbled moan left his mouth and next thing he knew, you were repositioning till his tip lined with your sopping entrance. He couldn’t take it, he thrusted upward as you sunk down. A shocked moan ripped out of both of you and in the moment of silence that followed afterwards, you could hear the floorboard creek.

Apparently Atsumu did too because his actions stopped and one of his hands left your hips to presumably cover your mouth. You presumed wrong.

Your closet door slid open to reveal a wide eyed Osamu palming himself.

[doubleleoenergy]

iii. Angel, The Princess and the Pogue Series

And even though we live inside a dangerously empty life. You always seem to bring the light, you always seem to bring the light.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, mentions of suicide, mentions of alcoholism and addiction, swearing, if there are any others please let me know.

Summary: JJ spends a late night with y/n and finds out they’ve got a lot more in common than it seems.

Words: 2863

As soon as the last school bell chimed Thursday afternoon, the gang jumped from their seats and headed straight for John B’s van. JJ lingered in the hallway, leaning against a set of lockers outside of y/n’s class as he waited for her. He had spent any chance he had during the school day around her. It was like she was a beacon of light, a beacon of hope, after so many things in his life had gone wrong. Of course, he wasn’t sure if she even found him remotely attractive in that way, but he sure as shit thought she was.

Y/N’s class had finally dismissed for the day and she stepped out into the hall, smiling as she saw JJ who was standing there with a big goofy grin on his face. “You didn’t have to wait for me, I could’ve walked out to the van on my own.” She commented.

JJ pushed off the lockers, falling in step beside her, an arm draping loosely over her shoulders. Her heartbeat quicker in her chest, though she tried to play it off, letting her expression remain calm. “A princess should never walk alone.” He teased, pushing the front door of the school open with his opposite hand.

“Not sure I’m a princess.” She retorted, rolling her eyes dramatically which caused him to laugh.

“Well, that’s your new nickname, sorry princess.” He let go of her shoulder and jogged forward to the van, meeting Kiara for their secret handshake before sending a salute in John B’s direction.

“You ready to fish, y/n?” Kiara asked, hopping in after her into the van and shutting the door behind them. Again, she was sandwiched between Kiara and JJ, which of course she didn’t mind at all.

“Yeah, I think I’ve only fished once in my life, with a cousin in Montana. But I didn’t catch shit and refused to go after that.” She picked at her cuticles, watching as the van started cruising down the street, John B’s free hand moving to grab Sarah’s who sat in her usual spot in the passenger seat.

“Well, we’re kinda experts at this, so if you don’t at least catch one fish you’ve got some bad juju on you.” Pope responded, earning a smack to the chest from Kiara. “Damn Kie, it’s just a joke!” The gang laughed, John B continuing to drive until he pulled over at a dingey corner store, JJ hopping out of the back seat and going inside. Sarah started belting out the lyrics to a Bob Marley tune as they waited, JJ emerging minutes later carrying two cold packs of Natural Light.

“Can’t fish without beer, that’s a Pogue sin!” He claimed, shutting the door as he nestled back into his spot beside y/n. Five minutes later they pulled into the docks, John B parking his van in an empty spot before everyone hopped out one-by-one. The boat John B had was not the prettiest, but it just showed its resilience. He hopped in first before helping Sarah get in, JJ passing up the beer for John B to set down in the boat.

Y/N, Pope, and Kiara got in after, JJ waiting on the dock for John B’s signal to push off. He gave it a swift push after a nod from the other man, jumping in as John B turned the keys in the ignition, driving the boat off into the deeper portion of the water.

“It’s beer o’clock!” JJ commented, opening one end of the first case and passing out beers to everyone, including y/n. She opened the can and took a long swig, admiring the water as they trolled in the deep.

“We’re gonna want to go to the far side, that’s where the fish are feeding right now.” John B noted, the speed of the boat increasing as he headed in that direction. Sarah turned on the radio, the music wafting as they sped farther away from shore towards the sweet spot where they’d anchor down at.

Y/N’s hair whipped in the wind, taking in the view as they cruised along the water. The Outer Banks truly was paradise on earth, as the sign had stated when she first arrived. She wasn’t sure how she would feel, being in a new town for her final year of high school, but she just felt meant to be there, like it was fate.

Soon enough the boat slowed, Pope grabbing the anchor and tossing it in when John B instructed him to, finally turning off the ignition and sitting back in his seat, taking a heavy swig of his beer.

“Alright, let's get the poles set up.” John B took the poles that were slid tight against the side of the boat, handing one to each person aboard before opening the container of worms. JJ pulled a knife from his pocket, cutting a few longer worms in half, everyone grabbing a piece.

“Can you put it on yourself, princess?” JJ questioned, wrapping his worm tight on his hook before inspecting y/n’s in her hand. She scoffed, following what JJ had just done, wrapping the worm around the hook, stabbing it through until it was stuck tight.

“How’s this?” She tilted her head to the side, sticking her tongue out at him. JJ displayed his middle finger playfully at her, finishing the last little bit of his beer before he moved to the bow of the boat, standing up and casting his rod.

Y/N moved to stand next to Sarah and Pope, casting out as they did and making sure not to cross lines, as Pope had told instructed her not to do. It wasn’t long before the Pogues were reeling in fish, taking them off and inspecting them before tossing them back in the cool water. They seemed to make a competition of it, seeing whose fish was bigger and how many fish they could catch.

Ten minutes had gone by, everyone but y/n catching a fish. “Maybe you were right Pope, I’ve clearly got some bad juju following me.” She huffed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Nah, you’re just not doing it right.” JJ motioned her over to him where he stood at the bow, having y/n watch him cast. “See, I cast it out and I let it sink a bit before I start slowly reeling in. You gotta jiggle it a bit now and then too. Now you try.” He reeled in completely, his eyes on her as she took her turn. She listened to his notes, casting out far and waiting briefly before she started to reel, stopping after a few turns of the handle to jiggle her line. Sure enough, after a few turns of the handle she felt a bite, tugging sharply to ensure it was on the hook. Her line started moving from left to right as the fish tried to swim away.

“Fuck, I got one!” She cried out, reeling it in bit by bit, listening to JJ as he coached her through it. Soon enough the fish was above the water, y/n jumping up and down happily. The Pogues clapped behind her, cheering her on as she put her finger in the fish's mouth just as she had seen Sarah do, carefully freeing the hook from where it had been caught.

“We need to document this!” Kiara stated, opening the camera on her phone. “Say...fish food!” Y/N smiled at the camera, allowing the woman to snap a few pictures before she looked up at JJ proudly.

“Great job, and now a kiss.” JJ instructed, taking a swig from his second beer.

“For you or the fish?” The boat became dead silent at y/n’s words, JJ’s cheeks flashing crimson as he choked on the swig of beer. “I’m kidding.” That was a lie, she would’ve kissed him. She pecked the fish near its eyes before tossing it back into the water with a smile.

 They continued to fish until the sun started to lower in the sky, y/n finally catching five and Kiara catching the most with eleven. The Pogues settled back into the boat, the music softly playing, the fishing poles now stashed away as they continued to sip on their beers.

“So, y/n, you said it’s just you and your sister?” Sarah chirped, leaning back into John B’s embrace.

“Uh yeah, she’s great. She’s actually working a double shift tonight at the hospital, but she told me to tell you guys hello and she can’t wait to meet you all sometime.” Pope trolled the boat on the route back towards the docks, taking another swig from his can.

“What about your parents?” He blurted out, receiving a hard smack from Kiara.

“You don’t have to answer that y/n.” She retorted, a death glare meeting Pope’s confused expression.

“N-No, it’s alright.” She swallowed, looking down at her hands as she continued. She’d eventually have to share; it might as well be now. And she’d had three beers, the liquid courage all she needed. “Well, my parents, my sister, and I lived here until I was three. My mom moved us after...well, after my dad shot himself. He battled with depression his whole life and the depression finally won.” John B turned the music off as she spoke, everyone going silent, even JJ.

“My mom couldn’t enjoy living here after my dad’s death, so she packed us up and we moved to Montana. My Aunt and Uncle live out there, so she wanted to be closer to family. My mom became a shell of a person, she couldn’t get over losing my dad and so she coped with alcohol. She was good at hiding it at first, sipping from a water bottle at my sister’s high school graduation, or adding a splash to her morning cup of coffee. Eventually it just got worse and she developed cirrhosis of the liver. She died a year ago from it.” Y/N cleared her throat with a sip of beer. “Enough of my sad, shitty life, the sunsets sure are beautiful here.”

JJ knew how she felt, all too well. Though his mother left him, and his piece of shit father was alive, he knew the struggles of having a parent with an addiction. He put a hand on her thigh, startling her briefly before her body untensed, enjoying the comforting gesture.

“Yeah, it really is.” Kiara agreed, eager to move the conversation away from y/n’s family, as it was clear she was done talking about it. “Ya’ll down for a dip?” Before anyone can protest Kiara is shimmying out of her shorts and top, her body clad in a navy-blue bikini as she hopped off the boat into the water.

“Hell yeah!” Pope added, pulling off his shirt as he dove in next to her. Sarah and John B joined them, jumping hand-in-hand off the boat.

“Shit, I forgot to put my bottoms on.” Y/N noted, Kiara leaning up on the edge of the boat beside the woman.

“It’s fine, just go in your underwear. It’s basically the same thing.” She let go of the boat, floating on her back in the water.

JJ stood up beside y/n, tossing his shirt off, giving y/n a view of his bare chest. His chest was tanned from the sun and chiseled; his arm muscles taut as he stretched them over his head. He met her gaze, a smirk playing on his lips as he noticed her eyes on him.

“C’mon, princess.” He joked before he dove off the boat and under the water, emerging seconds later, shaking out his blonde locks.

“Alright, I’m coming.” Y/N pulled her shirt up and set it on the seat, JJ’s eyes instinctively taking in her breasts clothed in a tiny orange bikini top. She pushed down her shorts, her black lace cheeky panties catching JJ’s attention, his breath hitching in his throat. Her body was gorgeous. She moved to the edge of the boat, John B and Sarah egging her on as she jumped in.

The water was cool, enveloping her body and refreshing her skin. She stayed under for a moment before resurfacing, whipping her hair off her face. They all waded around in the water, John B and Pope starting a war over who could splash the other the hardest.

JJ floated over to y/n, taking in the sight of her again beside him. Breathtaking, as always. “Sorry about your parents.” He mumbled, running a hand through his wet, shaggy hair.

“It’s alright, I’ve been through tons of therapy by now to know ‘it’s not my fault’, ‘addiction is a disease’, ‘depression can develop in the happiest people’. Blah, blah, blah.” She mocked herself, her lip quivering slightly at her words.

“My dad’s an alcoholic and a drug addict.” JJ admitted. “Used to beat the shit outta me. Luckily that bastard is far gone, haven’t seen him since he left over a year ago. So, we’ve got that in common. The parent with an addition, I mean. And you know, I’m here for you. Or whatever.” He mumbled, trying to seem nonchalant about the offer.

“Thanks, JJ. You’re a good guy.” It had been awhile since he heard that, but it made his heart soar knowing she felt that way.

They swam until the sun had disappeared in the sky, heading into shore and docking the boat once again. They had air-dried by that point and pulled their clothes back on, everyone hopping out of the boat and heading for the van.

“Alright, John B do you mind dropping me off at The Wreck? I promised to help my parents clean up tonight.” Kiara asked, leaning back against the seat of the van.

“Yeah, sure Kie. We’ll drop you off first.” They drove towards The Wreck, everyone exhausted from the day of school followed by their boating adventure. As the gang talked amongst themselves, y/n’s eyes started to drift shut, her body lulling until she leaned her head against JJ’s shoulder, startling him at first. He took one look at her sleeping, a smile creeping onto his face, and he let her sleep, his fingers tracing lightly against the skin of her thigh as they drove.

They dropped Kiara off first, then Pope, dropping Sarah off at her place after, but not before she gave John B a soft goodnight kiss.

“Alright, let’s head to y/n’s place.” John B looked back at JJ, noticing y/n still asleep on his shoulder.

“Let her sleep, JB. We can just bring her back to your place for the night.” JJ announced, his hand still tracing her thigh.

“Dude, you’ve got it so bad for her.” John B replied, backing out of Sarah’s driveway and heading towards the Château.

“Shut up.” He retorted, shooting up his middle finger for John B to see in his rearview mirror.

“Is it so bad if you did? I’m with Sarah, and I couldn’t imagine my life without her.” John B turned down the road towards his place, glancing at JJ from his mirror every so often.

“M’not good at this stuff, JB.” JJ had never really held down a steady relationship. He got girls, for sure, but all were just one-night stands, nothing more. If he was being totally honest, he didn’t know if he deserved to be loved by someone like John B and Sarah. He didn’t know if someone could actually love all his broken pieces, and he didn’t want to feel like a burden on anyone.

The van pulled to a stop, John B hopping out and heading inside. JJ wrapped one arm behind y/n’s back, scooting her until his other arm scooped under her legs, pulling her up and out of the back seat. He carried her in his arms, y/n’s eyes fluttering open, blinking in the night sky.

“What are you doing?” She mumbled, her head lulling to look up at JJ as they entered the shack.

“I didn’t want to wake you, you just looked...peaceful. We can take you home if you’d like.” Y/N shook her head, letting him carry her until he kicked open his bedroom door, setting her down gently onto his comforter.

“I’ll stay, if that’s okay. I don’t really enjoy being home alone when Bailey’s gone all night.” She fell back against his bed, taking in the sight of his room. It was messy, but she expected that from a guy like him, although the comforter was soft and his mattress plush underneath her back.

“Yeah, of course you can stay. You can stay here anytime.” He glanced at her as she pushed her body under his covers, nuzzling her face into his pillow. “M’gonna sleep on the couch. If you need me, you can come get me…” Before he could finish his sentence y/n’s eyes closed, her breathing heavier as she drifted to unconsciousness again.

“Goodnight, y/n.” JJ whispered, creeping out of his room and shutting the door. He walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch, a huge smile on his face. She had him wrapped around her finger, an angel in his hell, and she had know idea.

Tagging those who may be interested. Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged: @midnightf, @serendipityrogers, @bucksmotel, @eireduchess, @fuckandfluff, @moniamaybank, @astrydis, @sokovianheadtilt​, @blackwiddows​, @matbarzalschain​, @bigassnocash​, @sspidermanss

[todoscript]

Love Capsule

anonymous requested: Can I request a Bakugou scenario where the reader and the Bakusquad drag him out on a shopping trip and they see a whole section of vending machines and decide to check them out to see what cute, tasty or weird things they can find and the reader and Bakugou either get lost/ditched or squeezed together in a tight row but they have a good time and maybe the reader got a rare all might mysery figure and Bakugou wants it, so they they he can have it in exchange for a date?

genre: fluff pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 4.8k+ warnings: bakusquad shenanigans. bakugou cursing. pining.

author’s note: My Bakugou angst fic isn’t done yet but I wrote this request on the side. I wanted to have something to publish after not posting any written work for awhile so I did my best to get this out asap. sorry if it seems rushed! (also reposting this because the post stopped showing up in the tags).

There are only a fair bit of things Bakugou loathes more than wasting his valuable time. And that includes wasting that time by getting dragged into public places he has no desire to be, alongside the four most senseless nitwits the boy has ever had the displeasure of befriending.

It feels less like a friend group to him and more of a gathering of idiots as he watches four out of the six huddle around the aisle of vending machines across the mall. Where’s the other one, you might ask? You’re standing right next to him, sipping a bottle of sweet lemon tea dispensed to you from those vending machines.

“Ooh, look at this one!” The other girl in his squad, styling unruly pink hair, pokes a finger toward a blue machine in particular. What she finds interesting about it is that it’s absent of all buttons except a single one above the coin slot.

“Says here that you only have to pay a hundred yen for a mystery item,” Sero reads the instructions printed boldly across the surface, his grin showing his pearly whites. “Can range from food to even toys and cheap plastic jewelry.”

Popping up behind his taller friend, Kaminari squints incredulously at the sign before his eyes brighten like he’s concocted a conspiracy. “No, dude, I’ve heard of these kinds of vending machines before! They want you to think it’s some ordinary convenience vending machine, but these things actually have some super-secret big prize hidden inside!”

“Uh, no, that’s how you get your money robbed from you, Kaminari,” Kirishima tells the blonde, and yet his warnings end up floating from one ear and flying out the other. Kaminari fishes out a small stash of coins taut in between the lint balls of his pockets.

“Yeah yeah, just wait until you eat those words when I come home with a Playstation 5!”

“Why would there be a Playstation 5 of all things in there?” Ashido asks skeptically. She notes the small slot near the bottom, appearing sizable to dispense a large water bottle at most.

“Okay, maybe not an actual PS5, but probably the voucher you take to the game store to retrieve one, of course!” He waves the doubt away as he kneels and begins his succession of slotting coins in the machine until agitation eventually ebbs his features. About five hundred yen down the drain and all he’s amounted with in exchange are two Gudetama keychains, two packets of off-brand oreo cookies, and one can of that cheap instant black coffee he dislikes. Though if it’s one thing, he and the drink have in common it’s that they’re both positively bitter.

Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido all snicker wryly behind him while he deadpans at the snotty series of prizes with the skin between his eyebrows crinkled in defeat. Ashido takes this as the time to move along the row, dragging her sullen blond friend by the elbow. “Moving on! I want to get to the one with the Yakult drinks already!” She points onward and leads her compadres down the treasure trove of intriguing automated food vendors. Two of the boys press forward enthusiastically. Kaminari has to be lugged out of his brooding in order to play along.

“God, please just take me out already,” Bakugou mutters while leering his signature miffed face behind them. According to the giggle he registers chiming to his left, it seems you heard his complaints.

“Hm, not having a good time, I’m guessing?” you ask. The metallic edge of your lemon tea creases into the cushion that is your plush bottom lip. Bakugou finds himself staring there longer than he should and immediately tears his eyes away before he’s caught.

Your playful tone throws him off a beat later than he should’ve taken to reply. “Of course. I didn’t even want to be here to begin with,” he sneers with a brisk click of his tongue, crossing his arms. In a sense, he’s only telling half of the truth.

It’s true Bakugou did not desire to be here on his own accord. The squad dared to call him at the dead of midnight, when he was already tucked into bed by nine o’clock sharp and indulging in a needed rest, only to be ruefully awoken by his phone blaring across the expanse of his dorm room. The four should’ve suffered an earful from him as they tried to arrange a shopping trip of all things at that hour. However, his disinterest in the subject withered at the bait of your name casted into the conversation. Which to them was hook, line, and sinker. The cunning group of friends reeled him in at the idea that his crush would tag along. So, in the end, they got the rowdy blond to yield to the stupid shopping trip.

Though could it count as a shopping trip when four out of the six in their group were so transfixed by the weird vending machines in the place? The same four that organized said gathering to begin with? They’ve yet to cross into a single store here for crying out loud.

“If all you morons are gonna do is waste your damn money on these things, then this is a complete waste of time.” Bakugou doesn’t sugarcoat his irritation in the slightest. You still try to quell the bitterness in his tone with the saccharine that saturates your own.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, lighten up,” you tease playfully, pinching a small bit of the fabric on his arm to lightly urge him forward.

“You should at least try and join in on the fun with everyone—” At the turn of your head, your sentence cuts off, astonished to come across an empty space where your quartet of friends should be.

“And they’re already gone…” you say in disbelief. Your finger initially pointed in that direction falls limp. With their speedy curiosity plowing down the line of machines, the four have effectively ditched you two, leaving no trace of where they could’ve taken off for next.

The sigh from your lips lingers in amusement. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, Bakugou.”

When your eyes meet him again, you witness the scowl he glares at the abandoned space in front of the vending machine. The leer is menacing enough that if the contraption were an actual person, they might have rattled in fear, dropping down the snacks and drinks contained inside to sate his anger.

“Um, Bakugou?” you attempt to call out to him, but he’s too fixated by the peeved thoughts strewn in his head to hear you properly.

What the fuck are those dunces thinking? They planned this, didn’t they? God, I’m going to fucking kill them all! He babbles a seething torrent in his mind. Each one is more unrelenting and harsher than the last while a vein blisters prominently on his forehead.

What were the odds that going on a little shopping trip would end up with him left behind with his crush? Well, Bakugou thinks it’s absolutely none, and that this shit had to be preordained. If not, then it was just his bad fucking luck he supposes.

“—llo, earth to Bakugou Katsuki? Please send back a reply when you receive this message.”

At last, your voice surfaces, no longer drowned in Bakugou’s turbulent sea of thoughts as the hand you wave in front of him swims its way to his attention. “Huh?” He shakes his head twice to grip himself back to the matter at hand, observing in time the playful smile that curls mischievously on your lips.

“All back together I see. Good.” You start pulling on his arm and lead him in tandem with your steps. “Now let’s get going!”

Though he quirks up an eyebrow, Bakugou, weirdly enough, does not reject the way you drag him along without waiting for his response. In fact, with the other four gone, he finds it compelling that you’re taking the reins and asks mildly, “What? Are we gonna be doing some actual shopping now?”

His joke earns him your laughter resonating in melodic lilts to his ears before you leave his side to toss your empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Nope, we’re gonna be doing something even more fun, of course!” Then you resume dragging Bakugou down the walkways of the mall.

It’s not long until he questions the consecutive twists and turns he’s forced to take, having only been answered by your pursed grin multiple times.

“Hey, no more questions! Just trust me!” you quip at his refusal to be quiet and just obediently follow. The blonde can’t help it, of course, given the circumstances he’s wound himself in. Not many boys his age can control themselves if the person they like is pulling them along with as much enthusiasm as you are right now. But Bakugou is different from those other simpletons, crafting a mask to cover the elation hidden beneath with usual displeasure. Nothing but his uncharacteristic lack of annoyance and the ample glances in your direction could truly give himself away to his affections for you.

So with that, he places a generous amount of hope that you guide him somewhere more entertaining than that borefest he witnessed from the squad earlier.

But the moment you two reach your destination, he wonders if he may have accidentally misplaced that same hope down a rabbit hole instead.

“What the…” Bakugou’s words drift in the air at the quizzical sight before him. Mouth hanging open, he’s unable to conjure any sensible thoughts in time before you step in front of him.

“Tada! The Capsule Toy Gacha Room!” You spread your hands outward to present him an unhindered view of the room. It’s teeming with small capsule toy machines that line the walls, stacked on top of each other not to waste a single space inside. His red eyes squint at the assortment of bright colors painted on each machine that assaults his vision.

“Why the hell are there so many of these things?” Bakugou asks, jabbing a finger at the machines. You reply as you walk inside, “It’s the Gacha Room, Bakugou. Of course this place is gonna be filled with them.” You impart him an answer he is not at all satisfied with.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid! Glad it hasn’t really changed,” you say, noting the only real difference between then and now were the new toys and characters updated with the current trends. He begrudgingly trails behind you into the narrow corridors sandwiched with the machines on each side. The modest little tune you hum between your lips is a stark contrast to his disgruntled huffs accompanying his dragging feet.

Bakugou thinks being here is not any different from what the other four are frolicking about outside. This might be the worse alternative, considering you give money to a machine that grants you an item at complete random. You have no way of knowing what or who you’re going to get until the colorful sphere pops out at the bottom. And then, in an instance, your anticipation fades away when you open it and receive the character no one particularly cares about—the little charm inevitably gathering dust, forgotten in the drawers of your desk. Overall, these toy capsule machines were just gluttons devouring the money of parents whose kids always whine about never getting what they wanted.

Still, because it’s you, he stays and watches you indulge in your little nostalgia trip.

As your eyes glide down the row of toy dispensers, trying your best to decipher the items contained behind the blurry glass, you chime in, “Say, Bakugou, don’t you have any memories of gacha machines?”

Bakugou’s brows furrow in contemplation. He racks through the nooks and crannies between the crevices of his mind and recalls some standout memories. “I guess. Few of ’em were stuck in front of the arcade place near my neighborhood,” he answers, but those memories immediately begin to sour the more he looks into the details.

You don’t see how his face slowly contorts with annoyance while he plays back a scene in his head.

At the time, Bakugou had only sprouted to the young age of five years old. He’s huddled around his posse in front of the arcade he mentioned, slotting a coin inside the capsule machine that was stocked full of charms of Pro Heroes, which housed a very special limited edition prize of All Might to honor their collaboration with the famous Number One of Japan.

The boy was positively giddy at what was to come out, remaining hopeful thanks to the giant poster of All Might gazing down upon him with his triumphant grin. Yet even when his squeaky little voice hollered out a “Plus Ultra!” to reinforce his luck, he was given dirt in response.

But you know who did get that mystery All Might prize?

Deku. Fucking Deku.

Right after he had his spin of the machine, the green-haired boy stepped up, gave it a go, and got All Might on his first fucking try. To say five-year-old Bakugou was bitter would only be putting it mildly. The unbridled emotions bundled in his tiny body were just waiting to burst in an explosion.

But in the end, did he fight Midoriya for it? No, he did not. For if he did, his mother would have scolded the hell out of him, and his young self reflected in the moment that avoiding parental wrath outweighed the limited edition Mystery All Might figure charm, as sad as that sounded. So since then, he’s tried to repress that memory in the far corners of his mind.

But it seems God just desires to spite him.

“Hey, look!” You pull lightly on his shirt to capture his attention, eyes trained forward at whatever piqued your interest. Bakugou peeks over your head, and what he’s met with does not please him.

“They have a gacha machine featuring Pro Heroes here!” you shout cheerfully, walking toward it with the hem of Bakugou’s shirt in hand, who begrudgingly follows along despite a groan nearly leaving his mouth.

“Isn’t this cool?” you ask. You squat down to peer into the peculiar machine located at the very bottom of the stack. Bakugou clicks his tongue as part of his reply, hands buried in the pockets of his trousers.

“No.”

“Hey, one day they’ll be making toys and charms of you as well, Mister ‘I’m Gonna Be The Number One Hero,’” you say with a giggle, and your comment sparks a bit of pink to dust his cheeks while he looks down at you from his standing position.

He attempts to join you and your fixation on the Pro Hero capsule machine. However, when he starts bending his knees, he finds this to be a bit difficult. The more he squats down, the more Bakugou realizes they truly made this place for children and not bulky teenagers like him training in hero school. His knees and bottoms almost brush up against the plastic sheen of the machines on each opposing side.

Though he has to fidget into a particular position to get somewhat comfortable, he eventually gets there and kneels next to you.

“Why don’t we give a go at this thing?” you suggest, and he tilts his head, eyes narrowed.

“No way, these are a fucking waste of money,” he rejects.

“Hey it only costs two hundred yen!” you counter, “And plus, you might get a certain hero you want, like say... All Might?” You attempt to lure him in using his idol’s very name, but Bakugou doesn’t take the bait so easily and remains rigid in his stance.

Even if he did want to try for All Might, he’s sure his capsule is long gone by now anyway.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, pleaseee?” you draw out your pleas in a cute little tone that takes the blond by complete surprise. Unaware of how much power you have over him, the doe eyes and pout that paint your features make it difficult for him to maintain his hardened facade. Feeling his walls begin to melt away at the endearing sight, he ultimately grits his teeth, eyes shut as his hands rummage down into his pockets.

“Fine,” he mutters in defeat, and that smile appears on your lips once again as you lift your arms in triumph.

Pulling out two separate hundred yen coins, he promptly slides them both into the coin silt. When he hears them clank against the other change inside, he goes for the handle and gives it a quick turn. One of the capsule balls begins its journey down the machine and quickly arrives at the hatch that Bakugou lifts to retrieve his prize.

Snapping the capsule open, he’s met with Endeavor’s ugly mug, seeming even more unsightly from the low-quality production of the charm. The paint job is beyond sloppy, with the colors on the costume not depicted accurately and the figure’s pupils drawn to make him appear cross-eyed.

“Hm, you got the number one hero,” you tease, lightheartedly nudging your elbow at his sides because you know full well it isn’t the number one hero he wanted. Bakugou ignores your taunts and shoves the flame hero’s plastic face down the depths of his pockets, making sure to give it to Todoroki later just to annoy him.

“Yeah yeah, your turn, princess.” He scooches a bit to his right to let you have your go. You gladly follow, taking out the two hundred yen from your money pouch.

Bakugou remains disinterested throughout the entire process but is still attentive enough to observe how you hum those casual tunes of yours despite doing something so mundane. He also starts absorbing the cute shape of your nose and the outline of your lips from this angle. It isn’t long until he realizes how close you are in this position, to the point where he could practically smell your fragrant scent, and soon that pink hue diffuses on his face again.

Fuck, I need to stop that, he urges.

By the time he turns away, the capsule machine has begun its machinations once again.

The sizable sphere descending the hatch this time has striped patterns of red, yellow, and blue, colors that remind him all too much of a certain Pro Hero— Wait. What the fuck—

“This one looks a bit bigger than the others, don’t you think? Wonder what... Oh, hey, it’s All Might!” You go through the emotions—curiosity, anticipation, and then finally, glee.

Bakugou feels like he’s reliving those horrible memories once again as he beholds the shiny, miniature figure nestling in your palms before you lift it to grant a better view of its glory. It twists around from how you pinch it by the attached string while it’s hovering in the air. When the Pro Hero’s face turns in the blond’s direction, it’s like the inanimate object is somehow taunting him.

Compared to Endeavor’s shitty charm, All Might’s is a proper representation of who he is. The better quality plastic molded accurately into the man’s figure, the crevices between his muscles delved into displaying his well-defined physique. The colors on his costume are all correctly painted in his signature red, white, yellow, and blue. They even got the broad grin and shadowy features on his face to the tee.

Whichever company created this toy indeed did All Might justice because it looks exactly like the one Midoriya unsealed right in front of his envious five-year-old eyes.

Bakugou’s body shakes with suppressed anger. His hands clench and then unclench themselves while in conflict with his thoughts. Then, he suddenly moves toward you, darting for the charm that you narrowly pull out from his grapples in time.

“L-Lemme see!” he demands, shifting his hand around to grab hold of it for some reason. The act has you befuddled while you continue to move the toy away to evade capture.

“Huh? Why?”

“I need... to fucking make sure— OOF—”

His sputters are the last things that escape his lips before he staggers off balance due to all those hasty movements. It sends his body toppling over yours onto the floor, where your head would’ve thumped against the hard ground had the boy’s well-trained instincts not maneuvered a hand beneath it in time to cushion your fall.

Your descent to the floor is not at all graceful, wincing slightly at the impact. It’s when the pain ebbs away that you and Bakugou finally realize the very awkward position you’re suddenly both in.

Bakugou is hovering over you, body between your legs as one of his hands is cradling your head. The other is situated next to your face against the ground to keep himself upright, letting his eyes stare down at your stricken expression.

Unknowingly, you had settled your hand on Bakugou’s shoulder out of impulse during fall. The other one is still grasping the All Might figure, which is unharmed despite the abrupt movements.

Bakugou can feel your even breaths caress his lips from how close in proximity both of your faces are in this position. If any of you so much as move the wrong way, your lips would undoubtedly collide into each other. Though Bakugou doesn’t mind the notion, he isn’t going to instigate it if you aren’t willing. But the way your eyes line toward his lips, giving him a similar enamored look to the one he has right now, it seems both of you are on the same page.

Taking your mutual fixations as the sign to continue, Bakugou draws himself forward to close the distance while you rise to meet him in the middle.

And finally, he gets to kiss those lips of yours. The lips that adorn your cute face he always snuck glances at. The lips so unhinged in their playful teasing toward him. The lips he’s been so mesmerized and bewitched by throughout this chaotic excuse of a shopping trip.

And when they meet, they’re as full and soft as he imagined them to be, melding perfectly against his.

The hand he’s nestled under your head allows him to press you further into the liplock. You’re nearly enveloped in his wistful machinations, wanting to drown in the sea of his affections as your arms find their way around him.

You would’ve allowed yourself to do so, if not for the unfortunate security camera you catch in the corner of your eye from where you laid.

Your eyes widen, staggering out of their half-liddedness. You pat your hand in rapid succession against his shoulder, getting the blond to stir and separate from the kiss—an act he detests as he doesn’t want the embrace to end.

“What?” he gruffs. You point up at the ceiling, and he turns in that direction. When he detects the security camera about to automatically shift toward this particular side of the Capsule Toy Gacha Room, his face grows full of panic. He lifts himself off your body immediately.

With the two of you remembering where you are, you rose from the ground and cleaned yourselves up. You try to appear pristine as possible, without letting any suspicion about what has happened get tossed in your direction. Still, the red faces plastering both of your features are already a dead giveaway.

“I… Uh…” Bakugou’s still lost in the haze of the heated moment, unsure of what words he should utter. Much to his relief, his burden lifts when two notifications from your phones ring in sync together, diverting your attention.

When you open your phone and slide across the notice, a text message from the Bakusquad ascends onto the screen.

Mina: heyyyy just finished going through all these vending machines! you wont believe how much money we spent!!

The message follows a selfie of the four holding a myriad of drinks and snacks together in the picture. You can’t suppress your giggle at the endearing sight. Another chime sounds when a new text pops up at the bottom.

Eijirou: let’s all meet up again at that blue mystery vending machine!

“Well, you heard them,” you say while clicking off your phone, “we better get a move on.”

Bakugou relays your words back in a slow nod, following through with a rough “yeah” that cleaves his throat. The two of you walk alongside each other once again while you leave the Capsule Toy Gacha Room. Only your steps padding against the mall’s confounds accompany the quiet atmosphere established between you two—awkward and a bit unnerving.

It’s when you’ve both made it to the meet-up spot in front of the blue vending machine that you alleviate yourselves of the strained tension.

“Soooo… was there any reason you wanted to get your hand on this thing so badly?” you question, drawing out the All Might charm that led those heated events to transpire. It dangles between your fingertips and glances at Bakugou along every rotation. The blonde bounces his eyes between you, All Might, and the ground, unsure if he should admit that he was acting out of childish jealousy and bitterness.

“I… Urgh… Fuck…”

You raise an eyebrow when he fumbles with his words. He mutters blatant obscenities between every possible resolve that crosses his mind.

“Look, forget it. It’s not important,” Bakugou concludes, but you think differently, not satisfied with his answer.

“No. Tell me.”

With that weight in your tone, Bakugou realizes he can’t avoid the subject any longer. He releases a long sigh as he leads you through the infamous tale, observing how your expression grows from concerned to downright amused.

“Really? You’ve held a grudge for that long?” The laughter you initially attempt to suppress ends up bubbling from your throat. Hearing it spurs Bakugou to clutch his hands together into shaky fists.

“Look. If you know me, then you should remember I never want to lose to fucking Deku. The fact he got the All Might charm right after I got garbage fucking pissed me off!” he exclaims loud enough for his harsh words to reach a couple walking by. They spare worried glances at the blonde when they stroll past him.

“Hmm…” you muse in thought. Bakugou can tell by the glint rising in your eyes and your tone that you’re up to something again. “I can give you mine if you want. But only for a very small price.”

He quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what would that fucking price be?”

The smirk prominent on your pretty lips widens while you teeter your weight to your tippy-toes in front of him.

“A date. Just a single date will suffice,” you tell him, and Bakugou’s caught off guard by how simple the offer is. His delayed response has you leaning forward, appraising him for an answer.

“Well..?” You wave the charm before his eyes by the thin string as if to hypnotize him. But in all honesty, Bakugou knows that sweet smile of yours and luster in your eyes is all you need to have him wrapped around your finger.

His playful smirk surfaces his lips. He provides his answer by snatching the figure right from your dainty fingertips.

“You got yourself a deal, princess.”

You happily clap your hands together. “It’s settled then! We’ll have a date here at the mall next week!”

“Hah?! Why the fucking mall again?!”

“Because we didn’t do much here anyway, so I say we should give it another shot together next week!”

“What? And go shopping? I don’t wanna be your bellboy the entire time—”

“Mom! Mom! Look at that boy’s All Might toy!”

You and Bakugou are both surprised by the new, high-pitched voice that enters in the middle of your riffraff. Your eyes trail along to sound and come face-to-face with a young boy staring at the toy in Bakugou’s hand.

“I want one too!”

Unable to control his gloating, Bakugou dangles the charm next to his face.

“Yeah well, too bad, kid. It’s mine so f—”

“Bakugou,” you warn. You halt the obscene words from entering the boy’s ears and avoid giving his mom a hard time.

“Argh… I mean... scram!”

You almost smack yourself. You can’t believe Bakugou has the guile to argue with a child at this age.

Though he forgoes the curses, that doesn’t make Bakugou’s words sound any less harsh. As a result, the kid pouts. He pouts hard. His eyes start to become glassy, lining the edge of his lashes with droplets. Recognizing her child on the verge of breaking out into tears, the mom acts quickly. She’s by his side, patting his back.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go to that blue vending machine over there and see if you can get a toy too,” she cheers him up instantly, dropping a hundred yen coin down her son’s small palm.

“Okay, mom!” he responds, gleeful again.

He dawdles over to the machine with purpose in his steps, inserting the coin, and pressing the lone button on the mystery vending machine.

You and Bakugou don’t perceive any noise emitting from the machine, and yet the little boy is putting his hands into the slot to pull something out.

“Mom, why did the machine give me a paper that says PS5?”

Both of you go rigid. Kaminari is not going to be happy hearing about this.

[multiple-fandomimagines]

Breathe In

Pairing: Cullen Family x Female!Reader (Platonic), Quileute Pack x Female!Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Reader is the youngest addition to the Cullen family. Being a human with severe asthma causes your family to be extra protective, especially if they aren’t always around to help.

Word Count: 4128

Warnings: fluff, angst, near death experience, brief mentions of self-degrading thoughts

A/N: This is my first time posting my writing so feedback would be greatly appreciated! (Main account @hi-my-name-is-riley )

Being adopted into the Cullen family was nothing short of a blessing.

They quickly became the family you never had but had always wanted. Early on, you found yourself gravitating towards Emmett and Edward, the two quickly became your best friends.

It was not long after you had been adopted that they told you their secret. The revelation came after you saw Emmett uproot a literal tree and throw it at Jasper, who walked away completely unscathed.

The family made you feel loved. Your brothers were protective of you, as were your sisters. Carlisle would always find time to talk to you about school and how you were adjusting, while Esme kept the kitchen stocked with your favorite foods.

Being the only human in a family of vampires had its ups and downs. For instance, you always had help with your homework, and Alice was a fantastic stylist. On the other hand, you were still human, and that brought along human problems. 

When you were first adopted into the Cullen family, Carlisle was sure to inform everyone about your pre-existing health problems. 

Mainly, your asthma. 

You were diagnosed with asthma at an early age and had been able to use your inhaler and nebulizer, or breathing treatment, as you fondly called it, since before you could remember. But, just because you were used to your crappy lungs, didn’t mean that your new family was.

It wasn’t until a few months after you had been adopted did you have your first severe asthma attack. 

You were lounging on the couch doing your homework when you felt a tickle in the back of your throat. Hoping it would go away, you cleared your throat and drank from your water bottle, ignoring the occasional faint wheeze. 

Your chest gradually got tighter and tighter over the next couple of minutes, a wheeze now accompanying every breath you took. 

Rosalie, Emmett, and Edward, who were spread out around the room doing various assignments, looked at each other than at you in concern. They had heard you have small asthma attacks, but they had never heard you wheeze this bad.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Rosalie asked softly.

You were about to respond when your breath got caught in your throat. You made a choking sound before a cough violently ripped its way out of your mouth.

Cough after cough escaped followed by desperate gasps for air; your body jerking in tandem. Reacting on instinct, you scrambled for your backpack, ripped it open, and grabbed your trusty inhaler.

Within seconds, you were surrounded by your siblings, including Alice and Jasper who came running as soon the coughs started. They watched with pity as your face turned bright red, sweaty, and your eyes filled with tears. They asked you questions, but you were too focused on your breathing to answer. All they could do was watch.

It felt like hours until you were able to take a breath, but, once you could, you took a puff from the inhaler. This went on for several minutes, violent coughing and harsh breaths followed by the use of your inhaler. 

When the coughs started to subside, you looked up at the worried faces surrounding you, “Will one of you please help me to my room?” Your voice was hoarse as you gasped out the question. 

Strong arms lifted you from the couch and carried you at a human pace towards your room.

A pained look flashed across your face as you were hit with a second round of coughs, and you took another puff from the inhaler grasped tightly in your shaking hand. 

Emmett helped you onto your bed before sitting against the headboard and pulling you into his chest. The rest of your siblings filed into the room, eagerly waiting for any command or request. 

“There is a blue bag in my closet with a grey machine, some tubes, a mouthpiece, and medicine in it. Ple-” before you could finish the sentence, the bag containing your nebulizer was sitting in front of you. Blinking away the dizziness, you got to work setting it up. With shaky hands and a pounding head, you went through the motions that had become muscle memory: plug the tube into the nebulizer and the compressor, rip open the liquid capsules, squirt the medicine into the cup, hold the mouthpiece between your lips, plug in the nebulizer, turn it on. 

You paused as another round of coughs shook your body, you looked at Edward who understood what you needed and plugged the machine into the nearest outlet and flicked it on. 

The familiar taste of vaporized medicine hit your tongue, and you collapsed into Emmett’s chest, feeling the exhaustion deep in your bones. His cold, granite-like body cooled down your blazing skin and helped you stay elevated. As if reading your thoughts, he placed one of his hands on your forehead while the other combed through your hair.

“I thought Edward was supposed to be the mind reader.” You mumbled over the mouthpiece. 

“Shhhh. Just relax and focus on breathing.”

You nodded and closed your eyes, the whirring of the nebulizer lulling you into a light sleep. 

~~~~

“How long has it been running?” A voice from over you asked.

“About fifteen minutes. But she put two of these capsules in.”

“You should’ve seen it, Carlisle. She could barely breathe, but she managed to put the machine together in moments while we all just watched.” Emmett’s chest rumbled under your head as he spoke. 

“If you thought that was impressive, wait ‘til you see me do it when I’m having an asthma attack in the dark.” You joked, the mouthpiece still in between your lips. 

“How’re you feeling Y/N?” 

Opening your eyes, you saw Carlisle sitting at your side with Esme not far behind him. You allowed Carlisle to remove the mouthpiece and click the nebulizer off. 

“It’s nothing I’m not used to.” You dismissed, “What are you doing here, aren’t you two supposed to be at some fancy doctor event?”

“You gave your siblings quite a scare,” Carlisle chuckled. “They called saying you couldn’t breathe and we left immediately.”

“But I had it all under control, there was no need to come home.”

“We didn’t know that Y/N.” Rosalie snapped, concern swimming in her eyes, “We just sat around and watched, not being able to do anything, as our baby sister couldn’t breathe!” 

“What she means,” Alice shot Rosalie a look, cutting her off, “is that none of us knew you could get that bad and it scared us.”

“I could hardly read your thoughts,” Edward mumbled. When you looked at him confused, he explained, “You were so focused on your asthma that your mind went into autopilot. I had no idea what you needed or how to help.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, feeling guilty.

“It’s not your fault. It’s ours for not being properly prepared.” Esme insisted.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, and, in the morning, we’ll have a family meeting on how we can help you in the future. Alright?” Carlisle asked. 

You nodded, and your guilt was replaced with sleepiness thanks to Jasper. You cuddled further into Emmett’s chest, who chuckled and resumed petting your hair. You drifted into sleep after your parents and siblings had wished you a goodnight. 

Unbeknownst to you, your family had all stayed in your room as you slept, not able to bring themselves to leave your side after the evening you all had.  

~~~~

When Carlisle asked what triggered your asthma, your family was surprised at your answer. 

Exercise? Asthma Attack. Allergies? Asthma Attack. Cold Weather? Asthma Attack. Laughing? Asthma Attack. Sneezing? Asthma Attack.

Lungs couldn't make decisions, meaning Alice was unable to see when or where you would experience your next asthma attack. If there was one thing your family despised more than anything, it was not knowing when you could be in danger. So, after that night, they had gone a bit overkill with the asthma thing.

While you taught your siblings and Esme everything they needed to know about your asthma (how to work your nebulizer, the importance of staying elevated, keeping your body cool, etc.), Carlisle managed to get an inhaler for each of your siblings on the off chance that you lost or misplaced yours, and there was an emergency.

These small pieces of life saving plastic became their prized possessions. At any given time, they had an inhaler on them, even when they weren’t with you. They carried them while hunting, shopping, in class, working on their cars, etc. 

Bella had even mentioned how, on multiple different occasions, she had felt the hard plastic of the inhaler in Edward’s pocket while they cuddled. (Talk about a cock block)

In the beginning, it was overbearing. You couldn’t blame them for being worried—you knew that seeing you that night had terrified them. That being said, having five inhalers shoved at you every time you so much as breathed funny got very old very fast. 

It took some time, but, after constantly reminding them that you had your own inhaler and promising them that you would go to them if it was an emergency, they eventually settled down. 

~~~~

It was a beautiful spring afternoon. It had rained the night before and left nothing but sunshine and a cool breeze. Your family had plans to go hunting that day—which meant that you and Bella were going to spend the day at the reservation. You enjoyed spending time on Quileute land. It meant you got to cook with Emily and mess around with the other wolves.

When word of the Cullens adopting a human reached them, they insisted on seeing you once a month to make sure that you remained human. You were nervous when you first met Sam and the others, your family telling you all about their secret and the treaty. But, to nobody’s surprise, you all got along amazingly—Sam, Emily, Paul, and the rest of the pack treating you like family. The only member of the pack you didn’t get along with was Jacob. Your family meant everything to you, and you were not a fan of Jacob’s need to be involved in your brother’s love life. But, for the sake of the treaty, the two of you acted civilly towards each other.

Edward had pulled up to the treaty line with the usual pained expression on his face. Jacob stood against the hood of his car on the other side of the line with an excited smile. Bella and Edward quickly said their goodbyes before she hopped out and went towards Jacob. Edward watched on with jealousy as he read Jacob’s thoughts. 

“Don’t worry Eddy, nothing will happen while I’m here. After all, I’m still a minor.” You teased him, leaning over the center console. 

Edward chuckled. “You’ve been spending too much time with Emmett.”

You shrugged, not agreeing or disagreeing. Just as you were moving to sit back and get out of the car, Edward’s arm grabbed yours. Turning back, his eyes bore into yours.

“Be safe and have fun okay? We’ll be back in a couple of hours. Carlisle, Emmett, and I will have our phones on us so do not hesitate to call. Do you have your inhaler?” 

“I have my inhaler, phone, and I’ll do my best to stay safe. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“I always worry about you.” He huffed and kissed your temple.

You smiled at him, “Love you too. Now, go kill something big!” You exclaimed, sliding out of the car and heading towards Jacob and Bella. You didn’t need to turn around to know that he was rolling his eyes. 

Jacob pulled up to Sam and Emily’s house. The car was barely in park before you jumped out and scurried towards the house, Bella and Jacob’s banter making you nauseous. The house was abnormally quiet when you walked in, the only sounds coming from the kitchen. 

“Emily?”

The clamoring of pots and pans came to a stop, Emily peeking her head around the corner, a big grin plastered on her marred face, “Y/N, you’re here!” She pulled you into a hug, “The rest of the boys are out patrolling and enjoying the nice weather, but you’re just in time. I was about to start making muffins!” 

You were easily the closest to Emily, the two of you quickly bonded over your mutual love of cooking and baking. Time flew by as you and Emily gossiped and cooked up a storm, making enough muffins, cookies, casseroles, and trail mix to feed the pack. Before you knew it, the front door was opening and Sam, followed by Embry, Quil, Jacob, and Bella, stepped into the house. Greetings were thrown around before the boys dug into their food. 

You took a seat across from Bella, between Quil and Embry. You watched the two boys with a look of disgust as they tore into the muffins. Sam, Emily, and Bella laughed at your face, bringing the attention to you. 

“Got a problem Y/N?” Quil asked, purposely smacking his mouth near your ear.

You shoved him away, “With you? No. With the way you eat? Absolutely. Just ‘cause you two are dogs doesn’t mean you have to eat like it.” You teased, attempting and failing to hide your growing smile. 

The two wolves made eye contact over your head, exchanging silent words. 

“You asked for it,” Embry exclaimed before him and Quil attacked your sides, tickling you. 

“Say uncle!” 

“Never!” You squealed.

This went on for what felt like hours before Sam heard you begin to wheeze, “Boys stop torturing the poor girl and eat the food she helped make for you.” His command brought their actions to a halt. 

You sent the alpha a grateful look as you attempted to catch your breath. A wheeze had begun to sound from your chest. It was accompanied by a familiar tightness that didn’t immediately worry you but made you hyperaware of where you placed your bag. 

Just as you started to feel comfortable, a different set of hands grabbed your sides. The surprise of the attack combined with the onslaught of fingers tickling your sensitive sides caused your wheeze and chest pain to come back with a vengeance. You couldn’t see who the culprit was, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the burning in your chest as coughs and laughs competed to escape your body at the same time. 

“Paul stop! She’s having an asthma attack!” Bella’s voice echoed in your ringing ears. 

The hands on your sides retreated. Before you could register what was happening, your chair was turned around and Bella was crouched in front of you. 

“Hey, hey, you’re gonna be okay. Where is your inhaler?” 

Taking a deep breath you managed to wheeze out a response, “M-my bag.”

You heard the sound of what you could only assume was the contents of your bag being dumped onto the table as you did your best to take steady breaths. Despite your attempt, coughs kept escaping. 

“It isn’t in here, Bella! What do we do?” 

Panic started festering in your stomach. How could you be so stupid to forget your inhaler? You swore you put it in your bag!

Bella stood from her spot in front of you, combing her fingers through her hair while she thought. She knew second hand how bad this could get, and Bella didn’t want to take any chances. Not only were you her boyfriend’s baby sister, but she considered you family, and when the two of you were on the reservation, you were her responsibility. The two of you looked at each other and you nodded, silently giving Bella the go-ahead. “Hand me my phone, I need to call Edward. Emily, take my place and try to get her to match your breathing.” 

Emily kneeled in front of you and looked at you with sympathy.

You avoided looking her in the eye, too embarrassed that she, and the other wolves, had to see you like this. You weren’t a pretty sight, bright red, sweaty, heaving for air, and sputtering out skull rattling coughs. 

As if sensing your embarrassment, Emily rubbed your back comfortingly, reminding you of Esme. She muttered what you could assume were words of support that you couldn’t hear over the ringing of your ears.

On the other side of the room, you faintly heard Bella talking to Sam. You only managed to make out a few words—“Emmett”, “inhaler”, and “treaty line”, but that was enough to make your panic slightly subside. You were going to see your family soon, and everything would be okay.

Next thing you knew, Sam, Bella, Paul, Quil, and Embry rushed out the door and piled into Sam’s car. Jacob picked you up bridal style, Emily making sure you were secure before he sprinted out of the house in the direction of the treaty line. In a last-ditch effort to calm your lungs, you did some breathing exercises that Carlisle taught you to no avail.

Your cough continued to get worse as Jacob ran, your face slowly going from red to a light purple as you struggled to get enough oxygen. Jacob’s hot skin pressed flush against your own, combined with your gasps for air, made you feel like you were burning alive.

You had never experienced an asthma attack this bad before. 

At that point, you were barely coughing anymore, just desperately choking for air. All you could think about was your family. 

Esme didn’t deserve to lose another child. 

The blue skies and green treetops blurred as tears started to stream down your cheeks. You were terrified that you wouldn’t make it to the treaty line. Panic overtook you as dark spots clouded your vision, and you continued to heave for air. You closed your eyes, accepting that you were going to die from an asthma attack in the arms of someone you didn’t even like that much.

“We’re almost there, little Cullen, don’t give up on me yet.” You could only respond with more pained sounds causing Jacob to mutter some swears before pushing himself to run faster. 

You were teetering on the edge of consciousness when you were passed into a pair of cold arms, goosebumps breaking out on your skin from the drastic temperature change. A piece of hard plastic was placed between your lips, the familiar taste of albuterol on your tongue. Despite your instincts to inhale, new coughs pushed the medicine out over and over again. 

The sound of screeching tires and muffled voices registered in the back of your brain. You felt your body being rearranged, your back pressing up against a familiar hard figure before the plastic was placed back between your lips. 

“C’mon Y/N. Please breathe.” 

You did what the voice said, doing your best to breathe in when it told you to. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before the ache in your chest started to subside. Opening your eyes, you took in Carlisle’s relieved face. Your father was kneeling in front of you with one hand cupping your cheek, the other holding your inhaler to your mouth, giving puffs every sixty seconds. 

“There you are.” He whispered. 

Looking around, you noticed your back was against Emmett’s chest, his hands on your neck and forehead trying to cool you off. Edward was kneeling beside you, your shaky hand held firmly in his own. Behind him stood Bella, worry evident on her features. On your other side, a few feet away, on the edge of the treaty line, were the wolves, all in varying degrees of distress. Paul looked the worse out of all of them with tear streaks staining his cheeks. 

“Breathe in,” Edward whispered. 

You did as he said and Carlisle gave you another puff. 

“Can you say something please?” Emmett begged after another moment, fear obvious in his voice. 

In all your time with the Cullens, you had never heard Emmett sound that desperate before, and you felt guilty knowing you caused it. You swallowed hard, throat raw, “I-I’m sorry.”

You spoke at a barely audible level, but that didn’t stop the supernatural creatures around you from letting out huffs of relief. 

“You have nothing to apologize for darling.” Carlisle’s thumb wiped away your tears.

“Your inhaler fell out in my car. You couldn’t have done anything.” Edward informed you, lightly squeezing your hand. 

“It’s not your fault Y/N. It’s mine, I’m so sorry.” Paul apologized from across the invisible line. 

Growls emanated from your brothers, their dark eyes trained on the shifter. You could feel the tension between your brothers and the wolves, but Carlisle was quick to stop anything from getting out of hand. 

Handing the inhaler to Edward, Carlisle stood up and headed towards the wolves. Their conversation was quiet and short, Carlisle no doubt expressing his gratitude towards Jacob for getting you to your family so fast and then telling Sam that he’d send you with an extra inhaler to keep at his house next time you visit the reservation.

You looked at your brothers in confusion when they softly chuckled at something Sam had said. Turning around, Edward looked at Bella, “Giving commands to pack alphas now, huh?” 

“Badass,” Emmett smirked. 

“She’s family,” Bella said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You went to speak when another round of unforgiving coughs racked your body. A whimper escaped your lips at the agony that accompanied it. Carlisle was in front of you in an instant. Edward gave you another puff, your hands still too shaky and weak to hold the inhaler on your own. 

“I want to go home.” You whispered as tears fell down your cheeks.

Emmett pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before gently standing up, taking you with him. You looked over his shoulder and gave a feeble wave bye to the wolves, who returned your wave with soft smiles and small waves of their own. 

Carlisle opened the door to Edward’s Volvo for Emmett and you while Edward started his car, and Bella took the passenger seat. He made sure you were comfortable before closing the door and speeding over to sit in the backseat with you. Edward toed the line between safely speeding and recklessly driving as he expertly swerved through the winding roads. 

Sat cradled in Emmett’s lap, coughs continued to plague you. They weren’t as bad as earlier, but they still hurt.

“Esme, Rose, Jazz, and Alice already have your breathing treatment and anything you could possibly need set up and on hand. You’re safe. Everything is going to be okay.” Emmett muttered, saying the last part for both your benefit and his. 

It wasn’t long before Edward pulled up to your family home. The car door was yanked open and you were taken into Jasper’s arms who sped you into the living room. He set you gently on the couch, handing you the mouthpiece of your breathing treatment before clicking it on. 

Looking around at your family, you couldn’t help the fall of fresh tears. 

“Oh, honey,” Esme muttered before taking the spot on your right, tucking you into her side. Carlisle positioned himself on your other side, rubbing your back.

You couldn’t help the thoughts and feelings that plagued you as you looked upon your perfect family. 

You’re a burden. A hassle to be around. They shouldn’t have to worry about a weak human like you.

Before you could begin spiraling to a truly dark place, Edward broke the silence, “Don’t think like that,” Your eyes locked with his, “You aren't a burden and neither is your illness or humanity. You’re our family, and nothing will change that. We love you.”

Your siblings echoed his remarks, and Esme squeezed you closer, kissing your temple. “You brought a light into our family that wasn’t there before. No illness is going to change the fact that you have blessed this family, and if you don’t believe me, then I’ll just have to convince you.” 

“I love you mom,” You whispered, tears freely flowing down your cheeks. It was the first time you had called her that, and it was a moment that none of you would forget. 

 With a soft smile, you snuggled closer to your mom and attempted to fight the exhaustion that plagued your mind and body in order to finish your breathing treatment.

“Go to sleep Y/N. We aren’t leaving any time soon.” Jasper joked.

You nodded, and, with a little help from Jasper, you dozed off in your parent’s arms, the mouthpiece still between your lips. 

You couldn’t have asked for a better family. 

[rommahh]

Blanket Forts and Promises

{This is apart of the fratrry universe I wrote two parts of. It can be read without the prior two works but like...wheres the fun in that. I just wanted to write something short and sweet. There will be more of these two. Love, R.}

Word count: 1.2 k

Read I Carry Your Heart here

Spring break. Literally the best time for any college student. At least thats what its supposed to be. Harry and Y/N were supposed to be on their flight to the nice and sunny Florida until a huge tropical storm hit. It was so bad that hundreds of flights going into Florida were cancelled. Y/N was devastated by the news of her flight cancellation. She was so excited to be on a beach with her bubs. She couldn't wait for swimming with him, yummy tropical dinners with him, she couldn't wait to do...things with him…in their beautiful hotel room. In all she just couldn't wait to spend a beautiful non-school related trip with her boyfriend.

Y/N sighed as she hung up the phone with an airline representative who helped her receive her refund on the plane tickets. She laid on her bed back at the farm watching as the rain poured outside. Her school did not allow for students to stay on campus during breaks unless they had special circumstances- leaving Y/N to come home. Harry was back on campus in the frat house. Y/N would have stayed with him, but the frat house was the worst place to be right now. It was gross there, having been completely run down by boys.

“Y/N! Can you get me one of the brooms from the guest house? Take the truck so you don't get wet!” Y/N heard her mom yell at her. ‘Get the broom?’ Y/N thought confused. Why would her mom need the broom from the guest house. Deciding not to question her mom, Y/N threw on her thick rain jacket and mud boots before grabbing the truck keys and driving over to the guest house.

The guest house was a mile out from the main house and barn. Between the house was a field containing whatever crop her dad was growing. The animals on the farm roamed on that piece of land as well. Parking the truck on the gravel outside of the house, Y/N rushed inside to grab the broom her mother ‘drastically needed.’

Y/N’s mouth dropped in shock as she walked into the open concept house seeing a large blanket fort covering the entirety of the living room. Hearing the door slam, Harry crawled out from the mass of blankets, a smile on his face seeing his girl's shock.

“Harry? What are you doing here? Oh my gosh what is this?” She was amazed by the large fort, shoving her wet jacket and shoes off her body. Harry grabbed her arm pulling her into the fort. The fort was being held up by the two couches and a few stools from the kitchen. Sheets were used as the ceiling and plush quilts and comforters were used to pad the hardwood floors. In the middle of the spacious fort was a collection of pillows, snacks, fuzzy blankets, and Harry’s macbook and charger. Twinkle lights encompassed the tops of the fort, wrapping around from stool to stool. Y/N sat on the pillows in the middle of the fort looking around shocked.

“I know you are really upset about our trip to Florida so I wanted to do this for you. Also our anniversary is coming up so...yeah.” Harry sat beside her rubbing her thigh as the girl took in her surroundings. Suddenly she leaped out of her seat tackling Harry down onto the blanketed floor.

“Harry, you are so sweet. I love it but how’d you even do this?” She layed on top of his chest chin resting on her hands as his hands rested on her lower back.

“I called your grandmother and asked her if there was anywhere in town to stay because I knew Florida would get cancelled and she told me to just set up here. She actually bought all of the snacks and found extra blankets and pillows. She knew how special I wanted this to be for you.” He softly spoke looking at her eyes filled with admiration.

“This is perfect bubs.” She kissed him, their lips moving together perfectly. She pulled herself further up his body. Leaning on her elbow beside his head, he turned his head to reach her for more kisses. She smiled into the kiss at his eagerness. He reluctantly pulled himself away from her.

“I actually bought you some new pajamas and fuzzy socks to wear tonight- they match mine.” He grinned cheekily. Pushing her off, he nudged her towards the small gift bag containing the clothes. She plucked the bag off of the floor crawling out of the fort to change.

She came back moments later in her matching pjs and socks as harry. The pjs had cute little puppies on it making Y/N giggle at the sight. She sat next to Harry as he scrolled through disney plus in search of the right movie.

“I think you're looking for Black Panther.” Y/N jokingly whispered in his ear. His laugh filled the fort.

“Oh am I, I could've sworn I was looking for tangled?” His eyebrow rose as he continued the banter. He clicked on Black Panther, setting the laptop on top of a stack of flat pillows. He started pulling the snacks over ready to chow down. “Your mom made us sandwiches to eat. I swear I would live with your mom and grandmother for the rest of my life if I could.” He moaned at the sight of the thick sandwiches.

They ate so much food from sandwiches, chips, and sweet tea, to pieces of cake and assortments of fruit. Harry laid back full of all of the junk he ate. Y/N rubbed his full stomach chuckling at his extraness. They laid together watching her favorite movie on top of those fluffy blankets and digesting their food. Eventually, as two horny adults do, they both started to get handsy. Harrys hands drifted down to hold her bum and her hands brushed the muscle that stretches into his goodies.

He turned his head to look down at her only to find her already staring at him. He closed the space making their lips touch. This kiss was sloppy and rushed. Tongues pushed and prodded each other as hands touched intimate places. And just like Y/N wanted...things happened.

The next morning, Harry woke up wrapped in the arms of his girl. Her bare chest warmed the side of his face as her arms cradled  his head- fingers interlocked with his hair. Their legs intertwined with each other. Harry never felt happier in his life being wrapped in his lover's arms having shared a night full of laughter and genuine love. He detached himself from the girl and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a small box- smaller than a bracelet box- and just stared at it. Opening the box, he pulled out the promise ring he had been saving up for since christmas. He used all of his Christmas money and did some extra paid tutoring on campus to buy the simple jewelry. Its band was a pretty gold color, two strands twisted with each other to come together making a knot. Sliding back over to Y/N he slowly lifted her left hand and slipped the ring on her finger watching it as ifit on her finger perfectly.

He wouldn't propose just yet but he could promise her a lifetime of love and a commitment to carrying her heart with him everywhere he goes.