#many loved chao babies!💗

[quazart]

Can you imagine what the Chao and Critters on Angel Island would do for Knux once father's day occurs? (He's technically a single dad XD)

Oooh!! Yes, I can! Ah!! This Chao dad is absolutely adored by his many little charges. They love him unconditionally so, and vice versa!!💗💕

There's a chance I won't be able to post this tomorrow or Sunday, so just in case,

Happy early Father's day!❤

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part9

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: mentioning miscarriage, blood, mentioning drug and alcohol use, daddy issues

Selly's note: First of all I'm sorry. I wrote this while my heart was broken. I learned my ex left the country. He was the first person I loved. LIKE COME BACK???? We HAVE TO marry!!!!! Sorry for oversharing💗, and if there is a mistake. I didn't re-read this. Love y'all.💗💗

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Your hands trembled. Your whole body felt numb, yet the shaking tethered you to reality. There was a heavy weight on your chest, as though even breathing had become an uphill battle. A knot in your throat tightened with every passing second, making even the simple act of swallowing painful. You didn’t know what to do. The chaos of the moment was tearing your mind into pieces, your thoughts tangling into a knot so thick you couldn’t unravel it. 

You hadn’t done anything unusual. The day had started like any other. You made yourself some herbal tea, watched TV, read a book about baby development. You cleaned the house a little, then opened the packages that had arrived—items for your daughter’s room. 

Alone. 

Since the moment you arrived in this town, you’d always felt alone, but this was different. This was like falling into a deep, endless chasm, where there was nothing to grasp, no hand to reach for. You could feel your hands flailing in the void, desperately searching, yet finding nothing. 

The warm, sticky sensation spreading down your legs sent a jolt of panic through you. Your eyes flicked downward involuntarily, but you didn’t want to look. Yet it felt as if everything around you was betraying you, even the streetlamp outside, which cast its harsh glow on the spreading pool on the floor. You didn’t want to see it. You feared that seeing it would confirm your worst fears. Your eyes filled with tears, but you couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Would tears ease the crushing weight of this fear? You doubted it. 

You reached for your phone, but even your fingers trembled. Touching the screen, dialing a number, selecting a name—it all felt like an impossible task. The chaos in your mind blurred your thoughts. Everything was moving too fast and too slow all at once. Seconds stretched into eternities, yet time pressed on, dragging you deeper into helplessness. 

You hadn’t wanted this. You had left the island just for this pregnancy, determined to build a life here. And now, was it all going to be taken from you? After all the effort to adjust, after everything? 

You glanced around. The silence of the room pressed down on you like a weight. It felt as if the entire world had pulled away, leaving you stranded. You knew there were people—so many people—but none of them were close, not really. Placing your hands on your belly, you clung to the small hope that the motion could somehow quiet the storm of fear inside you. But it didn’t work. 

The voices of fear echoed in your mind: What if I’m too late? What if it’s over? What if this loneliness never ends? Each scenario was scarier than the last. You closed your eyes, but even the darkness offered no solace. The images in your head only fanned the flames of your terror. 

When you finally held the phone in your hand, you knew you had to choose someone to call. Should it be your mom? Or your dad? Maybe… someone else? But what if they couldn’t come? That thought pushed you deeper into despair. It suddenly felt as if the entire world had turned its back on you, as if every person was out of reach. The weight of isolation was crushing. 

Your hands were cold and clammy. As your fingers hovered over the screen, trying to pick a name, you felt frozen. You couldn’t move them. It was as though your brain had redirected all its attention to the fluid trickling down your legs and the stabbing pain in your abdomen. Panic consumed you, leaving you paralyzed and unsure of what to do. 

A quiet voice in your mind whispered, Everything will be okay. But it was impossible to believe. That voice was so faint, so far away, drowned out by the louder, darker thoughts. Reality felt so distant that even hope seemed like a luxury you couldn’t afford. While your mind scrambled for answers, your body refused to move. 

You tightened your grip on your belly, as though holding on harder could anchor you to something, anything. Alone in that dark, silent room, you had never felt smaller. The outside world was shut off from you, leaving only your fears, your thoughts, and the suffocating weight of solitude. 

Since moving to this town, you’d thought a lot about loneliness. But now, you truly understood its meaning. Loneliness wasn’t just sitting in silence. It wasn’t merely being by yourself. Loneliness was not having anyone to reach when you needed them most. It was feeling as though your voice couldn’t reach anyone, as though you were invisible. 

The trembling didn’t stop. Your eyes darted around, trying to focus on something, anything, but everything was blurry—not because you couldn’t see, but because you couldn’t concentrate. Nothing made sense in that moment. 

You searched for a way out. But maybe the only thing you could do was wait. That thought terrified you even more. Waiting... it made you feel so helpless, so powerless. But what else could you do? 

Tears welled up again as you struggled to breathe. But each breath felt heavier, each inhale pulling the loneliness deeper into your chest. That loneliness, like a black hole, seemed ready to devour you. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the pool of liquid spreading on the floor. You couldn’t face it. If you didn’t look, maybe it would stay a bad dream. Maybe this was just paranoia playing tricks on your mind. 

Even though you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your legs, you clung to the hope that you’d wake up. That you’d open your eyes in bed and thank God it was just a nightmare. 

You wanted to wake up. You didn’t want to believe this was real. Not after everything you had done to adjust to this new life. Not after leaving the island to start fresh. 

You had left everything behind. Everyone. 

For a life with your baby. 

You had wanted this baby. Even with your initial doubts, you had wanted it. And for what? To have it taken from you? 

Your eyes shut tight as your hand clenched the phone and your other hand pressed harder against your belly. You wished the pain would stop, that the ache—so reminiscent of a menstrual cramp—would just go away. 

Only days ago, you’d noticed your belly start to show, a tiny swell that made you smile. You had cradled it with your hands, talked to it, even though you didn’t care if it could hear. You wanted it to know you were there. Just a few days ago, you’d been excited about buying clothes for it. 

For this? 

For it to be taken away? 

When you finally opened your eyes, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock. You wanted to block it out. You wanted the sensation in your legs to disappear. For a moment, you convinced yourself it was all in your head. But the warm trickle that followed was a harsh slap of reality. 

Your trembling eyes drifted downward. The sight of the blood pooled on the floor knocked the breath out of you. Your heart skipped, as if an elephant had perched on your chest. Your legs gave way. Falling to the floor hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest. 

You had never seen them. They’d only been with you for five months, but the thought of that bond breaking—of losing them—felt like your heart was being ripped out. 

When you love something so deeply, does it always have to be taken away? Is that just the way life works? Had everything led to this moment? 

Had you fought with your family, with Rafe, for this? Had you left your entire life behind, moved to this town, just to lose your baby? 

Even your family had started to share your joy. They were thrilled for you, as ecstatic as you were. And now, for what? For this? 

Were you supposed to mourn?

To learn a lesson, did you really have to fall this hard? You hated it. You didn’t want to learn any more lessons. Not if they hurt this much. If growth meant falling like this, you were ready to stay exactly the same—stagnant, unchanging, and safe. 

The moment you felt a fragment of clarity, just enough to push panic aside, you called 911. You couldn’t afford to lose more time. It felt like your mind had snapped back into place, even if only temporarily. 

But you had no idea what you were saying. Your words felt foreign, disjointed, even as you tried to describe what was happening. They assured you they’d come to your home. They told you not to hang up.

Then you realized—you needed to call your family. You needed them with you. Right now, you just wanted to be back in Outer Banks, in your own house, surrounded by the people who had always been there for you. 

If you were there, you wouldn’t feel this crushing loneliness. They would be by your side. 

You didn’t even know how many times you tried. Your fingers repeatedly dialed your mom’s number, then your dad’s, over and over again. Each time, you were met with the same recorded message: unreachable. 

Still, you kept calling, clinging to that faint hope that someone, anyone, would answer. But each attempt ended the same way, the monotone voice echoing the same result. 

And then, without thinking, your fingers moved on their own. They dialed his number. In that moment, you didn’t care about shame or pride. All that mattered was that you needed help. You needed Rafe. Even if the chance was slim, even if it was just a sliver of hope, you needed him to answer. 

As the phone rang, your heart pounded so violently it felt like it would burst out of your chest. Each ring amplified the fragile hope blooming inside you. Your lips moved as if uttering a prayer: “Please pick up.” You needed someone—anyone—to be there, to tell you that everything was going to be okay. Tears streamed down your face as the call rang on, unanswered.

He wouldn’t ignore you, you told yourself. He wouldn’t turn you away. He’d come. You knew he would. He had to. You prayed he wasn’t still angry, that he didn’t hate you for not terminating the pregnancy. 

When the call ended without an answer, you didn’t stop. Your trembling hands hit redial without hesitation. Shame and pride were irrelevant now. You needed him. If he wouldn’t come, you needed him to reach your family. You were utterly alone otherwise. 

Alone. The word echoed like a hollow drumbeat in your chest. 

For a moment, time seemed to stop. The racing of your heart, the chaotic swirl of your thoughts, even your tears—all stilled in the suffocating silence of your own helplessness. But you didn’t give up. You called again. And again. Your trembling fingers barely functioned, struggling to tap the screen. But you kept trying.

Fuck pride. You needed help. You needed someone by your side, someone to hold you, someone to tell you it wasn’t the end. Your lips quivered as you let out a stifled sob. “Please…” When the call went to voicemail yet again, your shoulders shook with the weight of another unanswered prayer. 

Wasn’t this his baby too? Didn’t it matter to him? You hadn’t made this baby alone. Surely he would care. You didn’t need him to grieve with you. You just needed him here. And he would come. Rafe was a lot of things, but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t leave you stranded. 

Not you. 

You had to believe that. You clung to that hope like a lifeline, begging for it to still be true. 

Another sob tore through you, reverberating through the empty room. This time, it came from somewhere so deep inside that it left your chest heavy, crushed under the weight of despair. You prayed he’d answer.

You weren’t strong enough to endure this. 

You didn’t want to do this alone. You fought to steady your trembling lips, desperate to string together the words you’d need to say if he picked up—when he picked up. But once again, the line went dead.

This time, it felt like a door slamming in your face. But it wasn’t just rejection—it was the crumbling of a trust you hadn’t even realized you still held onto. Deep down, you had truly believed he would answer. That he’d help you. That he wouldn’t leave you to face this on your own. 

As the silence deepened, your hands fell to the cold floor, sticky with blood. You didn’t even care. You felt like everything you wanted, everything you’d dreamed of, was slipping through your fingers. Did you not deserve happiness? Had you done something so wrong to deserve this? 

You wanted to scream. To set the house on fire, to rip apart the tiny baby clothes you’d just bought. 

You nearly buried your face in your hands, but the sight of blood on your fingers stopped you. Frantically, you wiped them on your nightgown, trying to erase it. You wanted it gone—needed it gone. You wanted to forget everything that had happened today. 

The phone was still in your hand, your fingers gripping it like it held a flicker of hope. Rafe hadn’t answered. Your family hadn’t answered. Their silence only pushed you deeper into yourself. Your tears began to dry, replaced by a hollow ache gnawing at your insides. 

After your final attempt, you let the screen go dark. The reflection of your tear-streaked face stared back at you from the blackened screen, ghostly and unfamiliar. Your lips still trembled with silent cries, your voice barely audible even to yourself. 

Then, the phone buzzed. The unexpected vibration made you flinch. The screen lit up, and your heart stuttered before racing into overdrive. A message. 

When you saw the name, a fraction of the emptiness lifted. JJ. His name sat there like it belonged, as if the chaos hadn’t touched it. You opened the message, holding your breath. 

How’s it going with your new street animal buddies? Found yourself a soulmate yet?

It was stupid. Ridiculous. But somehow, in all its absurdity, that sarcastic tone cracked something open inside you. A tiny window of light broke through the storm. 

And yet, the relief was fleeting. Looking at the message, then back at the blood pooling on the floor, your emotions surged in a tangle of anger, helplessness, and unrelenting fear. 

You needed him. Right now. Without thinking, your trembling fingers scrolled back to his name.

The name on the screen made your eyes well up. JJ. So ordinary, so simple. Yet, at that moment, it felt like your only tether to life. He’d come. He would, wouldn’t he? 

With trembling hands, you pressed the call button. As you held the phone to your ear, the silence was broken only by the erratic pounding of your heart. Each ring sent a jolt of panic through you—what if he didn’t answer? “Please…” you whispered, barely audible. “Please pick up…”

It felt like you were losing your mind. Was this real? Had he really sent that message? 

“Hey, Princess. I noticed we’ve upped the calls lately. Can’t manage without me, huh—”

The distant sound of sirens reached your ears, and your lips quivered. Even JJ’s voice, with its usual cocky tone, felt like an anchor. Just hearing him talk, hearing that familiar teasing edge—it was everything. It made you feel as if you’d already done all you could. 

“I need you here.” 

The words came out shakily, and there was a pause on the other end of the line. One hand rested in your lap, the other gripping the phone, both stained with blood. 

To be honest, you were terrified. Not just about what might happen but about losing the baby. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice had lost its playful tone, replaced with a sharp seriousness. He was waiting for an answer, but you felt too drained, too scared, to put your fears into words. Saying the possibility of a miscarriage out loud felt impossible. 

How did he always know? How could he tell when you needed him the most? Was he like this with everyone, or just you? 

When he said your name, you tried to take a deep breath, but it came out broken and shallow. The sirens were getting closer. “I’m bleeding.” The weight of the words nearly crushed you as they left your lips, leaving you lightheaded—not from pain, but from the sheer gravity of it. 

You were so used to him being there. The idea of him leaving, of him not being there, was unbearable. “I called everyone, but—”

“I’m on the way. Did you call 911? Listen, I’ll be there, okay? Don’t worry. I’ll get there as fast as I can. You’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Okay? I need you to say something.” His words were quick, determined, unwavering. 

You nodded instinctively, even though you knew he couldn’t see it. Even if this was your fate, you didn’t want to accept it. 

“I’m scared.” A sob escaped your lips as the sirens grew louder. They were on your street. 

“I’m coming. Everything’s going to be okay.”

—

Last night was ordinary. A night that fell short of expectations—not that Rafe knew what he was expecting anymore. He had become a ghost of himself, far from anything resembling pride. 

Had he ever been proud of himself, really? 

He couldn’t focus on the future or the present; he was stuck in the past. 

His eyes had searched for you everywhere. There wasn’t a corner of the Outer Banks he hadn’t roamed. The beach, parties, the country club—he’d scoured them all, just to catch a glimpse of you. 

He even shopped at the grocery store near your house, the one far from his own. Almost every day, he’d find himself there, grabbing a drink, some crackers, whatever he could justify, just to linger for a chance to see you. 

He missed your presence. Your scent. 

He missed the moments in bed with you—not the sex, but the times he held you in his arms, kissed you, and just existed in your warmth. He missed looking into your eyes, the overwhelming urge to tell you he loved you. 

But Rafe was a coward. He couldn’t admit that to anyone, not even himself. And you? You already knew. You didn’t need to hear it from anyone. 

He hadn’t told his father. He hadn’t told anyone—Topper, Kelce, Sarah, even Wheezie. Not that anyone else could really understand. 

You were the only one who truly knew him. And he’d lost you. Because he was a coward. 

He missed the sound of your voice. If he could go back, he’d want you to talk more in those old videos. He’d spend hours talking to you if he had the chance again. 

He couldn’t adjust to your absence. 

When he threw himself into alcohol, he didn’t think much about it. When had he ever truly sat down and thought anything through? All he knew was how to make impulsive decisions that wrecked his life. 

He couldn’t stand Topper and Kelce’s phases of chasing random girls, calling them over, laughing at nothing. Rafe’s mind, body, and soul belonged to you. He couldn’t bring himself to touch or even look at anyone else. 

Every time he closed his eyes, every time he tried to sleep, the only image in his head was your face. 

He hadn’t touched another woman. Not that he tried. He knew he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t be you. 

There was a time when he thrived on quick, meaningless flings. He hated attachments—blamed it on his childhood. He figured it was because he didn’t know what it meant to make love. He never let emotions into it. But with you, it was different. 

It was intoxicating—better than anything drugs had ever made him feel. It was addictive. 

He loved whispering “I love you” while he was with you. It made him feel like less of the mess he knew he was. But even then, he hadn’t said it enough—like the idiot he was. 

You had been gone from his life for almost four months, and the void was unbearable. Not even when he’d tried to quit drugs had he craved their presence the way he craved yours. 

It was like he was a teenager nursing his first heartbreak. And yet, somehow, this was the mildest punishment he thought he deserved for his cowardice. 

He’d worked so hard to get Ward’s approval, to finally be seen by his father. Ward was noticing him now, for the first time. He could see Rafe’s potential, and Rafe knew it. For once, it wasn’t Sarah he was looking at—it was him. 

For the first time, Ward saw Rafe accomplishing something for Cameron Development. For the first time, Rafe gave his father the impression that he was capable of more. After years of begging for attention, Rafe was finally getting it. 

But it had cost him you. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his father’s approval. He couldn’t face that rejection again. Ward had finally placed a hand on his shoulder, and Rafe didn’t want to feel that hand pulled away. 

He hadn’t wanted to lose you, either. That was never part of the plan. It just… happened. Too fast. And he’d been too scared. 

Scared of seeing that disappointment in his father’s eyes again. 

Everyone around him noticed his spiraling depression, even Topper and Kelce. Though he never opened up to them, they could tell something was wrong. If they noticed, then everyone else must’ve, too. Not that Rafe cared. Nobody dared bring it up to him anyway. 

Under Topper and Kelce’s relentless pressure, he found himself at a party. Not to have fun. Not to let loose. But to see you. He spent the night searching for you, glancing around like you might walk in at any second. 

He looked for your old friends, the ones he’d seen you with before. He hoped you’d be there, even though he knew it was unlikely. You were pregnant. You probably wouldn’t come. But the possibility, however slim, was enough to drag him there. 

That same possibility kept him shopping near your place, day after day. 

For the chance of you. 

The more he didn’t see you, the more he drank, as if alcohol could drown out the ache. Nothing could fill the emptiness you left behind, but he still clung to his glass, hoping—maybe if he drank enough, he’d hallucinate you. 

He didn’t know how much he drank. It didn’t even feel like a party. Topper and Kelce flirted and joked with girls, but Rafe didn’t bother looking their way. He just drank and searched. 

You were the one who used to go to parties with him. You were his girl. And Rafe? He was yours. It wasn’t an open relationship; he wouldn’t have shared you with anyone. 

You used to pull him onto the dance floor. He’d groan and complain at first, but you always got your way. And once he gave in, he didn’t hate it. Not when he was touching you. He loved every moment he could hold you. 

Even now, he could hear your voice in his head, persuading him to dance. Him pretending to resist. You insisting, until he finally caved. What an idiot he’d been. He should’ve just said yes every time. Done anything you asked. 

His regrets were endless. His self-loathing, boundless. For being such a coward. For being a failure, yet again. 

You had believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. Your faith in him had given him the courage to ask his father for opportunities, small as they were. And with you, he’d felt like he’d succeeded, just a little. 

Now he hated himself for choosing his father’s approval over you—and the baby. 

The thought of you moving on, raising a child without him, was unbearable. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you with your swollen belly, or playing with your child—his child. And the thought of not being there... 

He hated himself for fearing his father more than losing you. For crawling for scraps of his father’s affection like some pathetic creature. 

Which he was. 

And now, for the rest of his life, he would hate this moment—and himself—for choosing so poorly. 

Rafe thought he’d made it home thanks to Topper and Kelce. He vaguely remembered stumbling through the front door and collapsing into Wheezie’s arms. The idea that the tiny girl could hold him up was almost laughable. Somehow, he’d managed to make it to his room.

Wheezie had laid him down on his bed before leaving. You’d have to be an idiot not to notice something was wrong. She knew her brother too well. She hadn’t seen him this quiet, this withdrawn, in a long time.

You were always there with him.

When you were around, Wheezie could hear your laughter coming from Rafe’s room. Even when Rafe was being his usual insufferable self, you made him bearable. She never thought he had that side to him. Frankly, she wasn’t even sure it existed until you came along.

When Rafe opened his eyes the next morning, a sharp, pounding headache greeted him like a cruel companion. The remnants of last night’s party echoed in his skull. Sitting up in bed, hungover and disoriented, fragments of the night before started to drift back into focus—crowds, noise, laughter. The sunlight filtering through the curtains hit him square in the face, intensifying the pain. All he wanted was to throw up and stay in bed for the rest of the day.

He didn’t remember much, just that he went to the party and drank like it was his last night on Earth. Alcohol had been a more reliable friend than Topper or Kelce that night.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to shake off the fog. The smell—his own and the room’s—was rancid, like a stale cocktail of sweat and regret.

He kicked off the covers, intending to get up, when his eyes landed on a single pill and a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. Without thinking, he swallowed the pill and drained the glass.

Stumbling to the window, he threw it open, letting fresh air seep in. He took a quick shower, practically praying for relief from the headache that felt like it was splitting his skull in two. The cold water shocked his system, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to crawl into a dark room and hide there for a week.

Out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his neck and caught a glimpse of his reflection. Dark circles framed his eyes, his face bore the fatigue of a man who hadn’t truly rested in years. The weight pressing down on him wasn’t just from the alcohol; it was everything else. Everything he’d tried to suppress. “You really are a master at screwing things up,” he muttered bitterly at himself.

His gaze drifted around the room—clothes tossed haphazardly on the bed, an empty bottle lying on the floor, a lighter on the nightstand. Even the carpet under his feet made his skin crawl. He needed to pull himself together, maybe eat something, grab a coffee. But first, his phone.

It sat there on the edge of the table, an unspoken threat. Reaching for it, a wave of unease washed over him. He didn’t know who he’d talked to, what he’d said, or worse, what he’d texted. His fingers trembled as he picked it up and unlocked the screen.

Notifications flooded in—group chats, Instagram likes—and then, there they were. Three missed calls.

From you.

His breath hitched. He stared at the screen, the timestamp mocking him. Midnight. One after the other. His thumb hovered over the call log, uncertainty gripping him. Why had you called? 

And why at midnight?

It couldn’t be. Not you. Not after everything. You never made the first move, especially not in the middle of the night. 

For a moment, he considered calling you back. His thumb ghosted over your name. Should he? Maybe. Or maybe not. What if it led to the same arguments—about the baby, about why you didn’t want to stay, about why he let you go? He could still feel the weight of everything left unsaid between you, haunting him like a shadow.

He dropped the phone back onto the table, running his hands through his hair. Deep down, he knew these questions were rhetorical. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you—or the life you might’ve had together.

Rising from the bed, he moved to his closet, grabbing the first shirt he saw. A hollow ache settled in his chest as he debated whether to call. The courage he’d relied on last night felt a thousand miles away.

Just then, the phone buzzed. Another notification. His heart skipped. Was it you? No. Someone else. But the fleeting hope that it might’ve been you twisted something inside him.

Setting the phone down again, he took a deep breath. *Calm down,* he told himself. But calming down was impossible. The unease coiled tighter, mixing guilt and longing into a cocktail of misery.

Without thinking too much, he hit your name and let the call go through. The ringing filled the room, amplifying his heartbeat. What if you were asleep? What if he woke you? He hated the idea of disturbing you.

The line clicked off before you answered. His worry deepened. What if something had happened to you? His fingers hovered, then dialed again, this time with more urgency.

The second call rang longer. Each tone ratcheted up his anxiety. And then, finally, the line connected. 

“Hey,” Your voice was quiet, cautious.

For a moment, Rafe’s words stuck in his throat. He tried to speak, but it felt like someone had stolen his voice. Finally, he managed, “Hey… uh, you called me?”

It sounded weak, tentative. But hearing your voice, even like this, sent a pang straight through him. He missed you more than he could put into words.

A pause. The silence stretched, making him wonder if you were about to hang up. Then you answered, “I was drunk.”

The words hit him like a slap. Drunk? That was it? Just a drunk dial? The thought made his stomach twist. Was it really that meaningless?

“Are you okay?” he asked, this time more firmly, though it took everything not to press harder.

“I’m fine.” But your tone was too quick, too dismissive. He knew you better than that. He could always tell when you were lying. But he didn’t push. Maybe he didn’t want to know the truth.

“Alright,” he said, not knowing what else to say. He wanted to keep you on the line, to hear more, to find some excuse to hold onto this moment.

“Okay,” you said, your voice faltering briefly before you caught yourself. “I have to go.”

And just like that, the call ended. The short beep that followed felt like a final blow, sealing the unbearable silence around him.

Rafe stared at the phone. Drunk. The word echoed in his head. It collided with another thought, one that sent a chill through him. Did she…?

Had you gone through with it? The decision he’d pushed you toward but never truly wanted? He’d convinced himself it was the right thing to do, but now the thought made his chest tighten unbearably.

He slumped back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t know how to feel—relief, regret, or something else entirely. But one thing was clear: he hadn’t stopped loving you. And that realization hit him harder than anything else.

He glanced at the phone one last time. Your name was still there on the screen, a painful reminder of everything he’d lost. 

He thought about texting you but stopped. No words felt right. Maybe silence was all he deserved. After all, what was left to say when you’d already walked away for good?

[prettyfilmz]

BIG JIM • JIMMY USO

author's note: hey my loves! I hope you had a happy new year🥳 i come to you with big jim for the big 2025. this idea spurred from back at war games and after many rewrites and revisions, this beautiful work was born. I hope you enjoy as I work on chain reaction pt. 2!💗

synopsis: in which amara is the only one who knows the origin of 'big jim'.

warnings: 18+(MDNI), jimmy has a big dick ;) , black female!oc, dirty talk, hotel sex, praise kink, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, squirting, creampie, lots of kissing, pussy slaps, overstimulation, spanking, slight dacryphilia, pet names (mama, love, pretty girl baby girl, baby), daddy kink (subtle) , teasing, fluffy lovey dovey shit at the end.

word count: 2.6k words

Backstage at the Intuit Dome, the camera crew was in motion, chasing wrestlers for interviews and behind the scenes moments. Among the chaos, Jimmy leaned casually against a wall, dressed down in his merch and a fitted snapback, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

He wasn’t wrestling tonight, but his presence alone was enough to stir commotion.  Everyone wanted to know the answer to one question, the same one that had been swirling for months.

“Jimmy, got a minute?” Cathy Kelley asked, stepping into frame with a mic.  She was smiling brightly, but Jimmy could already tell where this was headed.

“Sure, what’s good uce?” Jimmy shrugged, folding his arms across his chest.

“Well, first of all, congratulations on the momentum you’ve been building since you’ve returned. The fans love and missed you, and you’ve been killing it out there.”

“Always,” he replied smoothly, winking at the camera.

She laughed lightly.  “But there’s something else everyone’s been talking about, and I have to ask: the nickname.  Big Jim.  Where did that come from?  You’ve got the commentators using it, fans are chanting it—and yet, you never seem to explain the origin.”

Jimmy chuckled, the sound low and easy, as if he’d been expecting this all night.  “Man, y’all don’t quit, huh?”

“Come on, Jimmy, the people need answers!” she teased, leaning in slightly.  “Is it a reference to your presence in the ring? an inside joke?”

“Nah, nah,” Jimmy said, shaking his head with a grin.  ��See, that’s the thing. That’s between me, my girl, and God.”

Cathy’s curiosity deepened.  “Your girlfriend Amara?  So, she gave you the name?”

Jimmy tilted his head, smirking knowingly.  “Somethin’ like that.  You wanna know what it’s about, you gotta ask her. But good luck with that, ‘cause she ain’t talkin’.”

The camera zoomed in on his face as he finished the sentence, the smugness radiating off him, and Cathy gave a resigned laugh.  “You’re killing us here, Jimmy.”

“Hey, I just play my role,” he said with a shrug, then leaned closer to the mic, his voice dropping a little lower.  “But trust me—she know exactly why it’s Big Jim.”

The interview ended, but the smirk didn’t leave Jimmy’s face as he walked away, hands in his pockets, and the sound of the fans chants ringing in his ears.

♡

Hours later, Jimmy strolled into the dimly lit hotel room he was sharing with Amara, his energy still vibrant from the night’s teasing.  The second the door clicked shut behind him, he spotted her on the bed legs crossed, her curvy frame dressed in one of his t-shirts. It barely skimmed her thighs, leaving her soft, brown skin on full display. Her curls pulled into a cute pineapple bun, and her lips curled into a knowing smile when she looked up at him.

“Another interview about ‘Big Jim’, huh?” she asked, her tone amused.

Jimmy laughed, shaking his head as he tossed his snapback onto the dresser.  “Man, I swear, these people don’t got nothin’ better to talk about but that.”

“Well, you love the attention, so don’t act brand new now,” she teased, watching as he peeled off his hoodie, revealing the tattoos that decorated across his chest and arms.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, stepping closer to the bed.  His gaze darkened as it swept over her, lingering on the way the t-shirt stretched over her curves.  “But you love it too, don’t you, mama?”

She rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile gave her away.  “What I love is you keeping your mouth shut about why you call yourself that.”

Jimmy grinned, climbing onto the bed, his weight dipping the mattress as he crawled toward her.  “Oh, yeah?  Why’s that?”

“Because it’s nobody’s business but ours,” she said firmly, though her breath hitched as he slid a hand up her thigh, his fingers brushing the bare skin beneath the shirt.

“That’s right,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her, his lips soft but insistent against hers.  “Ain’t nobody else gonna know what I’m packin’—‘cept for you, baby.”

The kiss deepened quickly, his tongue sweeping past her lips as his hands roamed her body, squeezing her thighs, her waist, pulling her closer until she was pressed against him.  His hard length was already straining against his sweats, and Amara couldn’t help but grind against him, her own arousal building with every touch.

“You feel that, pretty girl?” he whispered against her lips, his voice a low growl.  “That’s why they call me Big Jim. You remember, don’t you?”

Amara whimpered softly, her hands gripping his shoulders as he pushed her onto her back, his weight pressing her into the mattress.  “I couldn’t forget,” she murmured, her voice breathy.

Jimmy chuckled, kissing her again, slower this time, as his hands slipped under the hem of the shirt, dragging it up her body.  “Good.  ‘Cause I’m about to remind you, baby.  You ready for that?”

Her answer was a needy kiss, her hands tugging at the waistband of his sweats, desperate to feel all of him.  Jimmy took his time, though, stripping her down from her shirt to her skimpy panties, his lips and hands worshipping every inch of her as he went.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his eyes raking over her naked body as she lay beneath him.  “So fuckin’ pretty, mama.  Every time I see you, I swear you get finer.”

“Jimmy...” she whimpered, her thighs squeezing together as his hands spread them apart again.

“Nah, don’t hide from me girl,” he said, his voice firm but teasing.  “You know I love seein’ all of you.”

His lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin before sucking gently, leaving marks that she knew she’d have to cover up the next day. But she didn’t care—not when his mouth kept moving lower, over her chest, her stomach, until he was between her thighs, his breath warm against her heated core.

Jimmy grinned up at her, his hands gripping her thighs as he kissed her inner thigh, biting softly before dragging his tongue over the spot.  “You want Daddy to take care of you, baby girl?”

Her answer was a soft moan, her fingers tangling in his hair as he spread her glistening lips open with his thumbs, his mouth descending on her swollen clit.

Jimmy’s tongue worked her like he had all the time in the world. He dragged it through her slick folds, savoring the taste of her, groaning against her pussy like he couldn’t get enough. Amara’s thighs trembled, her hands gripping his hair as he sucked her clit into his mouth, alternating between teasing licks and firm pressure.

“Jimmy...  oh, my God,” she whimpered, her back arching off the mattress as his hands gripped her thighs tighter, holding her in place.

“Nah, baby,” he murmured between kisses to her sensitive bud.  “Ain’t no God here. Jus’ me. And I’m the only one you gon’ pray to tonight.”

The cocky rasp in his voice sent another wave of heat crashing through her, and she couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from her lips when he dipped lower to her entrance, his tongue slipping inside her.  He thrust it in and out, his nose nudging her clit, and the combination had her gasping, her head tossing back against the pillows.

“Jimmy! o-oh—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he growled, pulling back just enough to catch his breath, his beard glistening with her arousal.  “Give it to me, mama.”

His fingers replaced his tongue, sliding into her pussy curving just right to hit that special spot inside her that made her see stars.  His tongue returned to her clit, flicking it mercilessly as his fingers plunged into her over and over.

Amara’s body tensed, her thighs trembling as she was pushed toward the edge. And then, with a sharp cry, she came, her release soaking his fingers as her hips jerked uncontrollably.

“Goddamn,” Jimmy muttered, licking his fingers clean, his eyes dark with hunger as he looked down at her.  “You always make such a big mess, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”

Before she could catch her breath, he was on her again, dragging her into his lap.  He sat back against the headboard, his sweats already discarded, his thick, heavy dick standing proud between them.  The sheer size of him made her thighs clench instinctively, and Jimmy caught the flicker of awe in her eye.

“C’mon, mama,” he said, his hands gripping her waist as he guided her over him, teasing her entrance with the tip.  “You’ve taken it before.  You can take it again. You’re my good girl, ain’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling, her breath catching as she lowered herself onto him.

The stretch was intense, almost too much, and Jimmy groaned low in his throat, his fingers flexing against her hips as she sank down, inch by inch, until he bottomed out.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his head falling back against the headboard as he felt her walls squeezing him.  “Look at you, takin’ all of me.  Pussy so fuckin’ tight for me.  You feel that, huh?”

Amara whimpered, shifting her hips a little.  “You’re so big, Daddy,” she gasped, her voice trembling.

“I know, baby.  I know,” Jimmy murmured, his hands sliding up to cup her ass, squeezing it as he began to guide her movements.  “But you’re takin’ it so good.  Just like you always do.”

She started to move, her hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had them both moaning.  Jimmy’s hands roamed her body, tracing the curve of her waist, her breasts, her thighs, like he couldn’t decide where to focus.

“That’s my good girl,” he said, groaning.  “Look at you. Ridin’ daddy like a pro. Fuckin’ made for me.”

Amara’s pace quickened, her thighs burning with effort as she chased the pleasure building inside her.  Jimmy watched her intently, his eyes fixed on the way her body moved, the way her nails dug into his chest as she lost herself to the rhythm.

“You close, baby?” he asked, his voice teasing.  “You gon’ cum on Daddy’s dick?”

“Yes, yes,” she whimpered, her head tipping back as the pleasure surged through her, overwhelming her.

Jimmy grinned, gripping her waist tighter as he thrust up into her, meeting her movements with his own.  “That’s it, baby.  Cum for me.  Let me feel you.”

Her climax hit her once again, trembling as she cried and cursed out his name. Jimmy groaned, his dick twitching inside her as her walls clenched around him.

But he wasn’t done.

“Turn around,” he says softly but firm.

Amara obeyed, her body still trembling as she shifted into reverse cowgirl, her hands gripping his thighs for balance.  Jimmy’s hands were back on her ass in an instant, spreading her cheeks as he guided her back onto him.

“Look at this fuckin’ view,” he muttered, giving her ass a sharp smack that made her yelp.  “You’re so goddamn sexy, baby.  Can’t get enough of your pretty ass.”

He thrust up into her, the angle hitting deeper than before, and Amara’s cries filled the room as he pounded into her.

“Fuck, daddy!” she sobbed, her head falling forward as tears pricked her eyes from the overwhelming sensation.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, his hands gripping her hips as he drove into her harder, faster.  “You so pretty when you cry for me.”

Amara’s third orgasm ripped through her, her body shaking as her squirted around him, soaking his thighs.  Jimmy didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, still  pounding into her relentlessly as he chased his own climax.

“On your back mama,” he demanded, his voice rough.

She barely had time to move before he flipped her onto the mattress, folding her knees to her chest as he slid back inside her.  His thrusts were deeper, slower, and Amara’s cries got louder as the pleasure overwhelmed her again.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his cock driving into her with enough force to make the bed creak.  “I’m gon’ cum baby.  You want that, huh?  Want daddy to cum inside you?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!” she cried, her nails digging into his shoulders.

With a final, deep thrust, Jimmy came, his dick twitching as he spilled inside her, the warmth flooding her walls.  He groaned low in his throat, his hips jerking as he emptied himself, his release spilling out of her as he stayed buried deep.

When he finally pulled out, Amara was trembling, her thighs soaked, her body completely spent.  Jimmy grinned down at her, leaning in to kiss her softly, his lips lingering against hers.

He rolled onto his side, draping an arm over her body as they lay tangled together in the sheets.  Her chest was still rising and falling heavily, a flush blooming across her brown skin as she tried to catch her breath.  Jimmy’s head rested on her shoulder, his lips brushing against her collarbone, leaving lazy kisses like he was tending to a delicate flower.

“You alive down there, mama?” he murmured, grinning against her skin.

“Barely,” Amara muttered, her voice muffled as she pressed a hand to her forehead, feigning exasperation.  “I can’t believe you.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows shot up in mock offense as he propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her with an exaggerated pout.  “What you mean you can’t believe me? Girl  I’m out here givin’ you the best dick of your life, and this is the thanks I get?”

She swatted his chest lightly, but her lips betrayed her with a small smile.  “You know damn well you’re a show off. Who does all that and still has the audacity to talk shit after?”

“Me,” Jimmy said proudly, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.  “Big Jim, baby.  That’s what I do.”

Amara rolled her eyes, but she was laughing now, the sound bubbling up soft and carefree.  Jimmy grinned down at her, loving the sight of her like this; relaxed, happy, and vulnerable.

“You know what?” he said suddenly, his tone playful as he leaned down to kiss her again, this time pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth, then her nose, then her forehead, each kiss accompanied by a dramatic “mwah!”

Amara squirmed under his affection, giggling as she tried to push him away.  “Jim, stop!  You’re so annoying!”

“Nah, I ain’t stoppin’,” he said, wrapping his arms around her tighter, trapping her against him.  “I’m annoyin’, but you love it. Don’t even lie.”

“Do not,” she huffed, though her grin said otherwise.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, leaning back just enough to look her in the eye.  “Oh, so you don’t love it when I hold you like this?  Or when I kiss you like this?” He pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her lips that made her toes curl despite her resolve.

“Maybe,” she whispered, her voice soft now, her gaze flicking away shyly.

“Maybe?” Jimmy repeated, chuckling as he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.  “Nah, mama.  Say it right.  You love it.”

Amara bit her lip, eyes rolling and her cheeks warm as she finally relented.  “Fine.  I love it.”

Jimmy beamed, his grin wide and boyish, and he pressed his forehead to hers, their noses brushing.  “Damn right you do.”

The moment softened, their laughter fading into quiet, affectionate silence as Jimmy reached up to tuck a stray coil behind her ear.  His hand lingered, cupping her cheek as his thumb brushed her skin.

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he said, “Now, don’t be surprised when I tell the next interviewer they gotta ask you why they call me Big Jim.  You better have somethin’ good ready to tell ‘em.”

Amara groaned, covering her face with her hands as she burst out laughing.  “You’re annoying!”

“You love it though,” he teased, pulling her into his chest, holding her tight as her laughter echoed around them.

And damn it she did.

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[residenthughes]

mad at me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 3.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, smut, unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), creampie, praise, spitting & choking (nothing crazy, i promise!), use of pet names (my girl, sweetheart, baby, princess, sweetheart), slight degradation (if you squint?)

summary: jack's latest game has tensions running high and feelings left unresolved. lucky for him, you know just the solution.

notes: so...this is happening 😭 this is very much inspired by the devils latest game against the kings where jack got pretty heated 😵‍💫 who doesn't love a bit of angry! jack? 🫣 but yes, as i've mentioned before, i don't usually write smut, so this may not be the best so any tips or comments you guys have to share would be much appreciated! 💗this has been partially edited, so if you see any errors along the way, they'll be fixed soon! as always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy! much love! <333

It takes a lot for Jack to get mad.

A sequence of events that all come to a boil, a mountain of incidents that snowball into an avalanche of his wrath. He’s so sweet, like sunny Sunday mornings that smell of fluffy pancakes and honey syrup - so, even now, so far into your relationship, you’re aware that moments like these occur. Of course, emotions wear thin like tired socks and you’re no stranger to your own and Jack’s that have seen all shades of the rainbow, but perhaps there’s something in the air, some electricity that changes the wiring of your brain because tonight is so different from the rest. Dissimilar from when you leave Jack be when his big emotions demand their place, unlike how you wrap each other in blankets of comfort when tensions have eased and everything is whole again. Because, again, this is not about you. It’s about Jack and how, as the universe has written it to be, gravity pulls straight towards him.

Things have been good - he’s come back from injury, back to his kingdom on the ice and the Devils have won back to back games - truly unheard of during their current season, beating their last opponent in regulation for the first time since 2009. It’s a big deal - the smile on Jack’s face says so, the satisfaction of his tone indicating so when he’s come back from his away games. So, you want this happiness to continue, because you love him and the happiness he illuminates but at the end of the day, his job is hockey. A coin toss of wins and losses that you’re trying to wrap your head around because you’re biassed and see all the commitment that him and his teammates put in everyday. As a result of this, Thursday happens; a dice roll of events that spiral into chaos.

You’re back home in Jersey, comfortably situated on the couch in the warmth of an ending winter that shows peaks of an upcoming spring. You’ve got popcorn in your lap because you’ve rediscovered how much you love the savoury snack, happily munching away as Jack’s game starts and the adrenaline kicks in. The first period is eventful with many saves that have you clawing at the couch, but then the second period starts and all hell breaks loose. Tensions run high and as level-headed as Jack is, he is not immune to agitation - subjected to a nasty hit into the boards, the opposing player purposely banging his elbow into Jack’s head. You’re about to start yelling at your TV screen like some drunken sailor because Jack’s been injured this season and doesn’t need more time away from what he loves, but Jack decides to get his lick back and you’re automatically silenced. Your jaw drags the length of the floor as you watch him crosscheck the hell out the guy, proceeding to rough the player up before referees interfere. Jack and the guy are arguing back and forth as they’re escorted into their teams’ penalty boxes and you’re just left bewildered, a mess of emotions with wide eyes as your stomach turns.

You watch astounded as Jack flushes in his temporary plastic home, eyes wide at he hurtles comments that leave the opposing player with a sour taste in his mouth. Jack’s shaking his head when he’s gotten what he needs off his chest, wiping away his sweat as his anger grinds to a simmer. Your eyes are glued to the TV, perched on the edge of your seat as your heart beats hard in your bruising chest. The power play continues on but you’re lost in a trance, awaiting Jack’s emergence from the penalty box that can’t come soon enough. Once he’s out, he’s sprinting for the puck and manages to get a breakaway that assures New Jersey a goal, but the loser in the penalty box with him is hot on his heels and Jack misses. He’s fuming once again, ranting to the referee that pays him no mind. Jack skates off, smashing his stick against the glass before he’s back on the bench and completely snaps it in half, a string of profanities leaving his lips. 

You sit there in awe, your grinding teeth sinking into the flesh of your fingers as your brain becomes an all-consuming pile of filth. Your precious boy, who loves his three hour long naps and looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky, the hopeless romantic who pulls out all the stops for you simply because you deserve it and who holds you as if you’re fine china - he’s almost unrecognisable now, wearing his emotions like the number of his jersey as his expression pinches and his azure eyes narrow. A rush of emotions you both experience that make a home in the chaos of your minds that long leave the remnants of their havoc.

The clatter of Jack’s hockey bag echoes from the doorway, bringing you out of the syrupy daze you’ve been submerged in far too long. You leap off the couch as your body carries you towards the front door, electricity rippling down the ridges of your spine as your skin tingles with the unknown. You keep your emotions at bay for the time being, unsure of what state Jack may be in as you creep around the corner and catch an eyeful of his demeanour - blinding annoyance. An exasperated sigh pushes from his chest as he slips off his trusted beanie, the ruffle of his wet curls bouncing as his fingers card through his hair. You gulp.

“Ro?” you test the waters - short and sweet just to gauge his reaction, anticipation hanging in the air. 

“Hey.” he bites, not bothering with looking your way as he shimmies his coat off with more force than necessary. 

You gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling helpless. “I saw the game…”

“The one I almost got fucking injured in?” he chirps, looking at you now with a pointed stare that burns with all the fire in his heart. No longer azure, his eyes singe with an almost midnight hue. “What a shitshow.”

“That was a dangerous hit, that guy’s got whatever’s coming to him,” you’re quick to reply, taking small steps towards Jack who hangs up his coat. “But that doesn’t change the fact that people pay to watch you play.” 

Jack stills in his movements, figure unmoving momentarily before his eyes throw you a lasting glance, the beginnings of a smirk working amongst his roseate features. “So, you heard?”

You blush under the heat of his undivided attention, gaze averted as you fumble with the hem of the hockey jersey on you. “Not necessarily.”

“Then what did you hear, baby?” he queries immediately, shifting so that his body now faces yours, an arm resting against the coat hanger as he sizes you up, unabashed and assertive.

Your stomach flips, the race of your heart undeniable. “You’ve got a mouth on you, so it’s easy to read lips.”

You’re chirping, working under his skin in a way that maintains some form of respect but has all the intentions of riling him up, which manifests into the beast you wish to see. A cocked eyebrow and a ticked jaw, flashes of disbelief flickering on his face. Once more, your emotions bear the weight of an anchor as excitement conjures up the swirl in your stomach, your masquerade crumbling at the seams as your nostrils flare, biting back a shit-eating grin.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he questions with a hint of humour, because he knows you like the back of his hand. You give him no response, preoccupied with suppressing the misplaced giggle that threatens to leave your lips. “I can’t believe this.”

The seams fully come undone, a snicker or two bypassing your lips as you retreat from the situation, ending up with your back against the door leading to the basement with Jack hot on your heels. Mirth bathes you in delight and you let it, a plethora of chuckles falling into your hand as you avert your gaze whilst Jack forgets any concept of personal space. Perhaps you’re deserving of whatever damnation comes your way, a punishment you’ve fully brought upon yourself, but when your senses fill with the waft of Jack’s earthy musk cologne and the remnants of his apple shampoo, accompanied by the warmth of his body that leans towards yours, you can’t bring yourself to feel a shred of regret.

His arm, enveloped by his raven black dress shirt, raises as he cages you in, vulnerable and at his mercy. “What else did I say, since you can read lips and all?”

This is a circus of words, meaning riddled in optical illusions that would have someone think none the wiser. Except this is yours and Jack’s circus, an act tailored for two that entertains your minds that run wild. A wildness you feed off as you meet him with the same decisiveness.

“This number,” you start, pointing towards the digits printed on your sleeve belonging to him. “86 is what people go to see - sorry, pay to see.”

You’re not really sorry, the smirk on your face says otherwise. “I think I said a lot more than that, sweetheart.”

“Besides all the huffing and puffing,” his tongue pokes at his cheek, a playful smirk betraying his flaring emotions. “You asked if he was there to play or to hurt people - fair point to make.”

“And all the others weren’t?” Jack’s moved closer, his thigh situating itself between the gap of your legs. 

You bite your tongue at the friction. “You know the answer to that.”

“Maybe,” his caging arm leaves the door, the web of his hand sat against your chin as he holds your face, maintaining the same fiery gaze that unravels you altogether. “But, it’d be better coming from you.”

“Jack,” he’s flexed his thigh, your hand reaching for the button on his dress shirt as you wane in defeat. “Please.”

“I don’t follow.” 

Your bawled fist meets his stacked chest. “Don’t play dumb.”

Jack chuckles, holding all power in the palm of his hand. “I’m just confused as to why my pants are wet.” 

To prove his point, he draws his thigh away because he’s a selfish bastard and shows you the damp spot you’ve left after his thigh made its way between your legs. The shame that washes over you is unbearable. 

Jack’s cold hands find themselves underneath the material of his jersey, one hand dancing along the outline of your underwear with a finger hanging over the top of the seam. “Oh, what to do with you.”

He’s such a tease, his ego large and in charge as you’ve long forgotten any sense of game at hand as your eyes pool with only an anguish he can extinguish. “Fuck me, please.”

“Why?” his tone light and airy, his finger hooked around the seam of your underwear as the material leaves your skin

You shiver at the breeze, eyes closed as your weak fist manages to grapple onto some material of his shirt. “Because, I need you and I think that goes both ways.”

The band of your underwear snaps against your stomach as Jack retrieves his hand, head cocked to the side as he considers the weight of your words with a locked jaw. Your teeth are sinking into the plumpness of your bottom lip, nothing but pleading in your eyes as you gaze up at him with all you can muster. 

His hand lays against your cheek, thumb automatically caressing the skin - a touch that you not only lean into, but shiver towards. “Get upstairs.”

This is a fairly new playing field for you two -  a game of cat and mouse that brings out an unfamiliar side to you, so foreign in nature that you second guess your desires and where your lust leads you. Jack doesn’t allow for any hesitation though, hand in hand with you as he comes into himself too. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips that lift, a soft smile surfacing amongst his features before you’re headed upstairs in a flash, scurrying towards your bedroom with a trail of your clothes left in your wake.

Jack doesn’t take long to meet you upstairs, his pinstripe blazer removed as he unfastens his tie around his neck. He spares you a lingering glance as you lay sheepishly on the bed perched on your elbows, legs ajar as your folds glisten in the soft bedroom light. Jack quickly rids himself of his clothing, slipping his boxers off to reveal his hard on. A comfortable length with all the girth to fulfil you, tip flushed pink as it brims with precum. It takes everything in you not to sink to your knees and fill your mouth with his cock.

As he approaches the bed, he motions for you to turn around and you do so with no questions asked, back arched as you wait in anticipation as you feel the bed dip with his presence. Jack comes up behind you, body so incredibly close yet somehow so far away as his hands make contact with your burning skin, giving the flesh on your back a brief massage. A surprised hum vibrates in your chest as Jack drags a single finger along the dip of your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he adjusts himself behind you, to which you push your ass back against his hard on.

“Stop teasing.” you sound more desperate than intended, cheek squished into your cool silk pillow.

“Can’t admire my girl before I fuck her?” The nonchalance of his tone draws a mewl out of you, your hips jutting as they search for any more contact. “Besides,”

Hands resting against the mould of your hips, one shifts as you feel his cold index finger draw in between your folds, fingertips swirling around your clit. You moan brokenly, body curling into itself. “You’re just here to take it, aren’t you, princess?”

You’re nodding before your brain can even compute his words, humming along to accentuate your point as his fingertips continue to swirl along the shape of your clit. It’s too much and not enough - a tug of war of sorts that makes your hips rock into Jack, an action that at one point, has his tip catching against your wet entrance. A hiss from behind you sounds as you grapple onto the pillow beside you. 

Jack’s hand leaves you high and dry, but alias, his patiences dissipates into the night sky as he glides into you in one smooth motion, robbing you of your breath and sanity as your mouth gapes open and eyes roll. Sinking into the mattress, your spread legs accommodate for the snap of Jack’s hips as he starts to fuck you from behind, your back curving as you gladly take everything he’s offering. Face mangled into your hoard of pillows, your fingers cling to the duvet for some kind of security, at the mercy of Jack who pleases you in all the way he knows how. 

“How hard do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, maybe genuinely because his strength seems somehow restricted, but you’re keening high in your throat at how filthy his words fall from his rosy lips so easily. 

“Harder,” you plead, losing yourself in the pleasure as your one hand shuffles to rub against your neglected clit. “Harder, please.”

And, he obliges, bullying his cock into you as you gasp at the impact. A smack lands against your ass, the supple surface sizzling as your hips retract, Jack’s ironclad grip holding you from escaping any further as his fingers make indents into your skin like notches in a bedpost. 

“Hang on,” his pace slows, breath laboured as you feel him pull out of you reluctantly. “Turn around. I need to see you.”

You squirm against the sheets, easily complying with Jack’s wishes that suit you, your body turning as your sweaty-layered back sticks to the duvet. In the dimmed light of your bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Jack, whose wet curls fall in all the right places and how every outline of his well-built body drives you wild. You catch the shallow rises of his chest and the flush against his cheeks and as he tucks stray strands of hairs behind his ears, his hands find purchase at your thighs and draw you closer. It’s when he looks into your eyes, shameless in the pleasure written all over his face as he pushes into you again that you think you could never get tired of this view. 

Your walls mould to the shape of his cock, sucking him in entirely as you both moan at the feeling. To add fuel to the fire, Jack decides to unfold your legs and hoist them over his shoulders, the new angle burying him even deeper and bringing you closer to the edge. A huff of amusement sounds from Jack as he peers down at your parted lips, wasting no time in fucking you into the mattress as the bed creaks underneath the pressure. His earlier annoyance rears its head in his movements, unsettled irritation laced in the impact of his thrusts, your cunt leaking all around him as he pounds into you relentlessly. So close in proximity, Jack takes the opportunity to caress your cheek, a sweet gesture as your breath hitches, all before his hand slowly drifts down towards your neck. An affirmative nod from you is he needs to tighten his grip, your brewing orgasm intensifying tenfold as he maintains all the eye contact to make you shudder.

He’s balls deep in you, each hard thrust punctuated by the smack of the wooden headboard against the bedroom wall. You feel him all around you like some wicked embrace: in your stomach, your lungs and around your throat, the snug clasp his calloused hand holds against your pressure points lolling your mouth open, gasping at the sheer intensity stewing within you. 

Jack takes the opportunity, wet curls stuck to his forehead, leaning closer as he spits directly into your mouth, as he does onto the ice throughout his games. Something twists violently in you, back arching off the bed as your lips fall close to moan from the deepest parts within you, the taste of Jack on your tongue. 

“Taking me like such a good girl,” he praises, your reflection plentiful in his eyes. “If I’d known you liked this, would have done it a long time ago.”

Everything begins to blur at the edges like an old photograph, bliss engulfing you in its heavenly fire as your skin shimmers with sweat and your nails scrape at Jack’s shoulder - a futile attempt to regain control that had been long lost, your bodies movement forgotten as you squirm and shiver all over. 

Oxygen courses back into your deprived lungs as Jack releases his grip, burning hand against your cheek as his thumb brushes your cheekbone, catching your fluttering eyelashes. “I got you, baby. Got you, princess.”

“Never been fucked,” a whimper escapes when Jack notches that spongy spot that buries your nails into his skin, “like this. Feels-fuck, good.”

He laughs lightly, pace stuttering yet hitting all the right places. “Love giving my pretty girl what she wants,”

You clench around him, embedding your nails into the flesh of his back as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, gaze scattered. “And my pretty girl wants to come, don’t you?”

He poses the rhetorical question with a mean pinch at your clit before pushing a heavy hand down on your lower stomach, the pressure accelerating you towards your fast-approaching orgasm. The sounds pour out of you like a waterfall, eyebrows furrowed as you plead with begging eyes. “Kiss me?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” he breathes, almost whiny as his hand circles around your nape, your figure floating as your lips collide in a messy embrace, rhythm unmatched as your yearning seeps through your teeth. 

Jack captures all your moans in his mouth, the new angle of his thrusts adding to the sloppiness of your wet kiss. The smack of his stuttering hips knocks against your clit in a way that has you seeing beyond, swallowed whole by his galaxy of stars as he gives you one last jerky thrust, teeth nipping at your bottom lip to undo you. Frayed at the seams, you come undone, unravelling in a mess that perfectly matches Jack as he quickly comes after you, coating your walls as your cunt spasms all around him as he rides out his high. 

Once Jack’s shallow thrusts grind to a halt, he slowly pulls out a heavy sigh, locking eyes with you as he runs a finger down your sensitive cunt just to get a shiver out of you. Your eyebrows knit, a flare of annoyance mixed in with fatigue written across your face that draws a humoured snicker from your boyfriend. He collapses down next to you, a kiss pressed against your cheek before you both aimlessly stare up at the ceiling. 

Amusement tugs at the corners of your lips. “You should get angry more often.” 

“I was just about to say the same thing.” agrees Jack, laughter making its home between you two as nothing but sweetness lingers in the air.

“Come on,” he urges, his hand nudging yours, body prying itself off your bed as he goes to stand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

[lady-ashfade]

hey! hello!

I'd like to jump onto this bakery event :D I’d like to order chocolate rolls with Midoriya Izuku, please :> (did I do it right?)

Order Takeout?

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Bakery event

╰･ﾟ✧☽ Chocolate Rolls: Fluffy Imagine

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 426

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: aged!up izuku, izuku making a mess in the kitchen, short, fluffy.

⤻YOU DID IT PERFECTLY MY FRIEND! Thank you for the first request 💗

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ 🥞 ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

“No no no no no.” The sound of your lovely boyfriends paniced voice echoes to the front door as you enter. The apartment you shared with him was small so the kitchen was close to the entrance.

You knew the sound of the pan cabinet well and him dropping them. There are many things izuku can do, like fighting many powerful villains, fix holes in the wall, or even the sinks. But he can’t cook nor should be allowed in the kitchen.

Peaking your head behind the doorframe you see the chaos unfolding in your kitchen. He had many bowls filled with who knows what, spills all over the counter and stains all over his shirt. But what was most entertaining was him trying to hold all the pans from falling from the cabinet above the counters. You had a cabinet under the counter but he insisted on putting some above, old ones that is.

“Regretting your choices?” You tease, now leaning on the doorframe. Upon hearing your voice he was startled and lost grip on the pan so it fell, hitting him in the shoulder before hitting the floor with a loud noise that made you both cringe.

“Hunny!? What are you doing home, it’s two?” he blushed in embarrassment at the thought of what he—the whole thing must look like.

Your eyes flicker to the time on the clock on the wall and back at him with a raised brow, “It’s six, baby.” His eyes widen and turn around to look at the time and out the window where he wasn’t paying attention.

He started to mumble and panicked. You understand the words of him saying it was a dinner for you, and how he wanted to surprise you, like what you do for him. And how messy the kitchen was.

You stopped his haste movements by grabbed ahold of his face and stare into his eyes to get him to stop. You rubbed the skin on his cheeks with your thumps and smiled at him to ease his anxiety. “A kiss would’ve be plenty baby. But thank you for trying to make us dinner, do you want to order takeout while we clean?”

He smiled and looks at you with so much admiration in his eyes before leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips. Afterwards he leaves his forehead on yours to rest there.

He was thankful you weren’t upset, and willing to get takeout after his failures. But now he has to figure out another way to propose…

[mins-fins]

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PREVIEW]

❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞

SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love

WORD COUNT: 2.7k (preview) | ..pending (full fic)

NOTES: hello everyone, this is my baby, the birth was very special, i love my baby so much 💗 listen! i started this in early august and i am STILL going, this going to be LONG.. longest mins-fins work ever long 😞 im estimating 30–40k, the power of mark lee yall 😇 it's going to go on forever, and it's definitely going to be sad in some ways, i am currently about to hit 20k words.. sooooiooooo 😊😊 i hope you like this preview bc i really dk when the real thing is coming out 😭😭 im in so much pain rn, let me nap now 😴

BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.

fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.

mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.

so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had heard too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.

and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.

"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.

"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).

mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".

"watch your mouth, you need me".

just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".

in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"

"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.

mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.

"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".

mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."

"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".

donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"

mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.

you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.

swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.

you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"

mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".

you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"

"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".

"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".

mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".

the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"

before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".

a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."

"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".

"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"

there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.

"you know i can't do that kid".

your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."

you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".

you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".

mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.

"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.

you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".

mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".

he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.

you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.

you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".

"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".

you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.

"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".

mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.

"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.

you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".

and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.

"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.

the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.

mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"

donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."

"why?"

his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".

mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".

"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".

mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.

"why are you even asking me about y/n?"

mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".

the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he's practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".

donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".

mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.

that? that was two months ago.

before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.

september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.

when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"

his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".

mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.

he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.

you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.

maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?

while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.

you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.

"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.

"hi".

"we uh— were partners for the project".

your smile is neutral. "i know".

mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"

he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.

but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).

"that'd be nice".

mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"

your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".

tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.

"okay, have a good day y/n".

mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.

still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.

[onmyyan]

hi hi hi 🥺👋 i hope i’m not bothering but omg :’) the delmont brothers brainrot is so real, esp after reading “sharing is caring”, i have so many headcannons and scenarios in my head about them 😭 i’m so delulu for them esp caspian and marcos *bark bark*

ok ok but just imagine the delmont bros with darlings that are athletes??

i imagine caspian with a darling who’s a figure skater, mans is definitely going to go feral, foam at the mouth, and cum in his pants everytime he sees bbygirl twirl and lutz, doing her routine on the ice with her short, flowy, and almost sheer figure skating dress on esp if it shows her collarbones and/or her thighs. 😩👋 definitely gets hella jealous if darling is a well-known figure skater and has fans throwing flowers and plushies at her during the end of her routine but at the end of the day, he know his bouquet of flowers is the only one that darling will accept 😌🫶 100% will cook nutritious and healthy meals for his baby to keep up with her lifestyle and internally screams and gets possessive when darling skates up to him and kisses and cuddles into him after her routine because she’s cold

gabe with a gymnast darling‼️‼️‼️ idk why but it just FITS like the utter chaos that darling will cause because she did some aerial moves or a floor exercise and makes him all bricked up is *chefs kiss*. he’s the type to work out and go to the gym w darling and wipes off her makeup after her competition ends and rewards her when they get home, really testing out how flexible she can be 👀 gets all smug and smirks when he sees his love bites and marks that can’t be covered on his darling when she’s competing, knowing that she’s taken and spoken for already

ricky with a ballet dancer darling *screams*!!! not only is ballet a sport but it’s also an art form and ricky appreciates all art, esp if his darling is the one executing it 😌💗 (we love a supportive mans) referring back to his hc’s, ricky can dance and he just loves dancing with darling, twirling her around and lifting her up in the empty studio where it’s just him and his love 😩😭 feral caveman brain activates when he finds out his initials are written on the inside of darling’s pointe shoes and/or she wears a leotard and tutu in his favorite color during her recital

MARCOS WITH A DANCER DARLING‼️ i don’t think it’s an official sport (BUT WHATEVER LETS JUST SAY IT IS) and just picturing him with a darling that dances and choreographs her own moves RAHHHHH *horny noises* he definitely gets hard watching her moving and thrusting her hips to the music and heaven forbid it’s a song like “you right” by doja cat or “shirt” by sza where it’s all sensual and sexy 😩😩😵‍💫 i JUST KNOWWWW there was definitely an instance where he’s watching darling with hearts in his eyes and high on zaza, a blunt in between his fingers while making grabby hands at darling while she dances to his freaky playlist and teases him AAAWWWOOOGGGAAAA 😤 100% picks darling’s outfits for her dance routines and matches it with the same vibes as the songs she’s dancing to/choreography

manny with street racer darling 👊👊👊 idk if this is actually a sport but whatever, let’s call it an extreme sport since it’s highly dangerous and probably illegal in some places 👀 but anywayzzz, just imagine darling speeding down the streets in the middle of night with cops chasing her down and she blasts the most toxic/fuckboy/fuckgirl music ever like chase atlantic or the weeknd out of her loud ass modified car speakers and places one hand on the wheel and the other on manny’s thigh, gripping it and smirking at him as her car’s exhaust is booming as she’s hazardously merging onto the freeway to curb the cops 😩😭😭😭 manny is literally just turned on by how dangerous and hot darling is, feeding off the thrill and excitement she gives him *SCREAMS*

that’s only a little bit of the brainrot i’ve been having about the delmont brothers but 😮‍💨 the delulu is deluluing omg 🤪 tysm for creating these scrumptious hottie ocs and i love your writing sm 🥺 i hope you have an amazing day/night!! 💗

I adore this soooo much it gave me so much inspiration thank you for sending this in I love it ❤️💗😍

[ravangie]

Hi! I have a lot of sapphic book recommendations that aren't necessarily romance books, since I usually don't enjoy romance as a genre either. :) Hopefully at least one or two interest you?

The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir (sci fi, a bit divisive—people seem to either love the series or hate it)

The Burning Kingdoms trilogy by Tasha Suri (fantasy; only the first two are out right now but book 3 is coming soon!)

The Roots of Chaos Series by Samantha Shannon (fantasy+dragons) The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson (sci fi)

The Radiant Emperor duology by Shelley Parker-Chan (fantasy retelling of the founding of the Ming dynasty)

Hide by Kiersten White (thriller/horror)

They Never Learn by Layne Fargo (thriller/mystery)

These lean a bit more romance but throwing them out just in case:

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone (sci fi, short and sweet, heavy on the romance)

Bitterthorn by Kat Dunn (fantasy/gothic)

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid (historical romance)

AAAAAHH!! I LOVE THE INTERNET!!! I LOVE YOU, INTERNET PEOPLE!!!!!

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!! 💖💗💓💝💘

I'm very proud to recognise some of these, however I haven't read any of them yet, just put them on my to-read list. Now I surely will!

I JUST bought The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon ehehehe. Dragged that gigantic baby across the country from my recent trip. I've showed it the world, soon it will be it's turn to show it's world to me, I guess 😈

Again: THANK YOU!!! Very useful information to me, it's gonna provide me with many, many lovely evenings🥰

[cherry-vennom]

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifs 🖤

So many things make me happy...❣️ I am so blessed. Here are 5—

1. Being included in little Tumblr activities like this. I've been here for over a decade and have been included in a handful of them, delights me every time 😄🌸 Thank you for passing this on to me 🥰

2. Milk chocolate. I'm including this little piece of cocoa happiness because I just finished off a Cadbury milk chocolate bar with almonds that my fella brought home for me just a couple days ago along with a Snickers that I also already ate 😋 Love chocolate! Related side note - I recently confirmed (long time speculated) my genealogic roots to Aztec Native American people, as well as learned that not only did they rip still-beating hearts out of the chests of men with their bare hands 🫀 as means for religious sacrifice, but they also considered chocolate to be more precious than gold, used it as currency 🙂‍↕️ and are considered the first people to have "invented" edible chocolate. Checks out 🙃💖

3. Having such a close relationship with my daughter, all the precious moments and memories 💗 Her aura and personality, her cute little face!! Spending time with her is so cozy. This evening we decorated the house a bit for Christmas and then watched some Christmas classics like Frosty The Snowman and Rudolph. Her and I are constantly finding reasons to laugh through life. She is such a treasure and I am honored to be her mama, can't say that enough.

4. I have so many beautiful things and completely gorgeous connections with others and vividly intricate feelings about it all. My home is adorned with crystals and gems and books and art, friendly house plants and the most precious pets; beautiful happy faces with beautiful souls to match. I have a gorgeous little family I'm blessed to have been born into, as well as the family of my very own I continue to find and choose and grow, and the most incredible friends. I have profound romantic connections just at my fingertips.. and possibilities for more perfect babies. Closets full of faux fur, sparkly fabric, satin bows, platform ribbon lace-ups, color. Immediate access to organic nutrition, clean water, warmth. I love when I really get to reflect on how beautiful my life is and how thankful I am to be me and to have all that I do. Moments in time like this when I'm just completely in awe, grateful, and both incredibly humbled yet simultaneously feeling as though I have it all and the whole world is at my feet🎀; truly appreciative of everything in my exquisite little life exactly the way it is.

5. Me! I make me so happy. I love waking up to me! And spending all day and all night with her, forevermore. It's not always blissful and "perfect" (yet, it always is..💎), there have definitely been moments when I wish I could just get away, get a break - but ugh, her darling and precious sharp little face, an anchor in the chaos. Her big, dark and expressive warm-honey alien eyes full of love and ferocity. Her silky dark curls, rose petal soft skin, perfectly proportionate petite, powerful and mighty in every which way and yet so delicately soft. The way she deeply considers others, her innate ability to feel how they feel and see how they see - blurring the lines between self and other, gender fluidity, to find herself in a flower, a cloud, a beast - but never loses her own spark and her own take on things. A truly remarkable little deity in which to witness divinity unfurling itself from. She loves so hard! Loyalty and compassion unyielding. An artistic masterpiece in motion, ever evolving progression. Her expansiveness dripping with the tremendous love both and all of creation and consciousness bestow upon her - it saturates and radiates through all things and all of time, and beyond and within nothingness. Sometimes the immensity of that love is such an incomprehensible behemoth that it seems any way of attempting to fully express it through the lens of humanity falls short of true comprehension. Sometimes it seems like the other me's cannot truly fathom how in love I am. Therefore in the behemoth do I miss the entire love monstrosity? The answer is yes because love is constantly being made more, new, reaching deeper, paving higher - love is infinite, and as infinite is, infinite does. I am love and I love being her, I love being me.

[onegianthotmess]

Amelia’s Ikemen Vampire Contact List

The contact names and group chats I would have for these chaos men.

Napoleon Bonaparte - Panty Sniffer👀☹️

Either this name or “Trashy Fanfic Author✍️💕” would be my contact name for him

IRL Napoleon wrote a self insert love novel, so I’m saying Ikemen!Napoleon did that

It would probably switch between those two, if I’m being honest

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Fucking Germaphobe✋🙄

Pretty self-explanatory

I’d make fun of him for it and he’d probably yell at me for sneezing and coughing around him-

SORRY I CAN’T CONTROL WHEN I SNEEZE, YOU CLEAN WHORE-

Leonardo da Vinci - The Bisexual Cat Man💗💜💙🐈‍⬛

One, this man sleeps like a fucking cat

Whenever and where ever he wants

Two, you can’t tell me Leo and Comte haven’t at least had one maybe maybe not drunk night of sex together

Also, it’s a historical fact that Leonardo da Vinci, in real life, was most likely gay

But I’m saying Ikemen!Leo is definitely bisexual

His sex drive doesn’t discriminate-

And there I go rambling again, this isn’t my headcanons on what these sexuality of these weirdos is, it’s what their contact names would be in my phone-

Arthur Canon Doyle - Attention Slut Writer💃✍️

He doesn’t charge for attention, he gets it for free-

Also we’d probably just end up sending each other weird memes that we find while we’re up and on the internet at, like, one in the morning

Vincent van Gogh - Bubba😇🎨💛

As I’ve stated before, the van Gogh brothers have unofficially adopted me, so I’m their baby sister now

And I’m pretty sure people would ask if I’m actually related to them since me and Vincent both have the baby face curse-

Theodorus van Gogh - Bubba🖕🥞💙

Again, unofficially adopted older brother

Except we’re assholes to each other because that’s how we show our love to each other

Even though the bitch calls me a damn hondje-

I’m using salt instead of sugar in his pancakes for a month-

Dazai Osamu - Window 🪟

Seriously that’s all I got

He just climbs in through the windows to get into rooms, even my room

He’s a weirdo, but so am I, so I can’t really judge him-

Isaac Newton - Apple Pie 🍎🥧❤️

I’m his mom friend, I’m allowed to tease him

Also it was either this or “Fucking Nerd 🤓” and I didn’t want to be that mean

Also I’m the only one allowed to make apple pie for him because I don’t make fun of him for it outside of one tiny comment-

William Shakespeare - Wilhelm Shookspear🎭📝🍐

Tbh, I’d mispronounce his name just to piss him off

And then I invite him over to piss off Theo so that Will won’t be mad at me because I find him at least decent

Also, he’s Vincent’s bestie, why would I keep my unofficially adopted big brother away from his bestie he’s probably kissed while drunk once or twice

Le Comte de Saint-Germain - Mommy Comte🥰🥰

I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, Comte is the mother of the mansion and Leonardo is the chill as fuck dad

Also, the residents are his children

It’s literally canon that he unofficially adopted them

Sebastian/Akihiko Satou - Husband 🥰

Self-explanatory

I could’ve been mean, but I love him too much and he’d revoke my affection privileges for a week and replace them with twice as many forehead flicks

Meanie bobeanie

But I love him-

Vlad - Strawberry Shortcake🍰💐🥀

It was either this name or “Dusty Old Man😐”

And he’s pretty as fuck, so that name didn’t really fit in my opinion-

I give him free strawberry desserts, he gives me free flowers to decorate the mansion with

It’s a win-win, really

Johann Georg Faust - Pyromania💥💥💥

Tbh, I’d make fun of him for his death all the fucking time

Mutual agreement that we insult each other and try to kill each other half the time and the other half we civilly interact with a sprinkle of petty insults

It’s fun!

Charles-Henri Sanson - Baby Blues💙💙

He has pretty eyes, what do you want from me?

Also he’s a babie, he needs love!

I’m borderline adopting most of these idiots at this point but I don’t care-

THEY’RE TRAUMATIZED AND ADORABLE!!

ESPECIALLY CHARLES

[paracosmicat]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

💖‼️ WACKUS ‼️💖

Thank you SO much for the ask!!!! I conveniently have just enough to qualify for this!! Tagged under the cut! <3

Since I have exactly 5 (posted) I actually will pit my babies against each other and rank them by favorites

curiosity killed the ladybug

This was my first dip into the ml fan fic pool and my first time uploading a fic since the Andi Mack fandom! Even though I’ve grown as a writer since this, I still am putting this as number one.

Shadow Strike

Collab with: @ninadove

This one is so insanely fun to write and it’s a really nice cannon divergence in a way that honors the incredible writing of the show while exploring what it would be like if our plot didn’t hinder on miscommunication. So so so much fun.

ephialtes / reverie

Collab with: …so many people. @bittersweetresilience @consistent-chaos-corporation @ninadove @wackus-bonkus-maximus @ultear-tigra @keeperofthebox

I had so much fun working on this with all the incredible writers involved! I’ve had so much fun making friends with everyone too. I literally love all of you sm it’s wild. It’s wild. 💗💖💞💘💝🩷 You are all so insanely talented!!!

Allure of the Akuma

This idea was one I had years and years ago and finally got around to committing it to paper! I had so much fun exploring a akumarized Marinette and a bug/chat combination. I just really enjoy giving Adrien a chance to shine, he deserves it.

Unmasked

Collab with: @ninadove

Last place really doesn’t mean much when all of these are so close to my heart and it was so difficult to pick! The finale left a lot of feelings so it was nice to put them somewhere productive. I was very happy with it but man… my heart hurt.

(Take a shot every-time I say “I had so much fun”)

[callsign-rogueone]

Hey My love 🥰

Loved the first chapter of Aaric and Sunny, I know you worked long and hard on it, but it paid off, it's so good.

He doesn't even know her but he protects her, pulling her close to the ground, also so closeeee, baby's were made to be that close.

Also that formation after parapet was cruel, so many went up on flames 😵‍💫

You've yet again managed to make a character look like it's actually him. Aaric is the youngest but he isn't like his family, or his father the king. He wants to help and it translated on the page.

Wait oh my (chaos incoming, only warning), I'm rereading it while typing this so I don't miss anything. There are 2 other girlfriends in there? gimme a sec to re read the entire thing ( didn't find any. Only thing I thought about that maybe it's the girl with the wind shield. But as far as remembering signets go I don't think so)

Also the blonde at the end. Sloane? 🫣👉👈

Anyway you've made another amazing story. I can't wait to see what you have in store for them.

Love you ♡♡♡

hi my love!!

I'm glad you liked it hehe. I just finally decided to post part of it, even if it's short. I think their chapters will be short but there will be a lot of them. probably the most of all the gfs except Duchess, because she's my fave and they've been together for ten years so there's a lot to cover lol

but yes!! In the book he does the same thing to protect some unnamed girl so I just kinda replaced her with sunny hehe. they're gonna be that close pretty often... you'll see.

the blonde girl in their squad is indeed Sloane! they're gonna be a cute little friend group just like Vi, Rhi, Saw, and Ridoc were their first year 💗

I like your guess about the wind-signet girl. and there is one other in there, someone who is gonna have an important leadership role... who maybe saw this whole thing coming and warned her friend so that she could put up the air shield... but I haven't officially told everyone about those things yet.

love ya!! 🥰

[teahyunf]

3rd Month ❤︎

Hello, my cutiepie Elouise!

Happy 3rd month to my favorite human! These 3 months have been filled with laughter, love, and a bit of chaos (but the fun kind, of course!). You're like my favorite playlist — always making everything better. Here's to many more months of joy, silly moments, and making beautiful memories together. Love you tons, my cutiepie!

Let's review these 3 months!

For the past three months, Elouise has been a humorous, cute, and adorable girlfriend, like a two-year-old. Your compassionate and empathetic side truly warms my heart. I enjoy it, despite the fact that it may be ignorant and cranky at times. You are sometimes more mature than I am, and sometimes you are like a baby. Some claim we're similar in a lot of ways; I know that now, hehe. We have many things in common. I hope that this will strengthen and extend our relationship. You're aware of how much I love you, right? You can still deal with my clinginess, right? You must be able to! Because you are currently my lovely safe place. Thank you, baby, for being the best version of you now. I want to say thank you so much. Thank you for trying your best now, thank you for worrying about me, thank you for creating a good time for me, thank you for loving me. I will also try to be the best for you. I'll also keep learning to make you happy.

I LOVE YOU MORE 💗

[sennaverstappendiary]

monaco grand prix ✩ 28.05.2023

this race weekend, is probably, all in all, my second favorite weekend of the YEAR‼️‼️ i have so many incredible memories of this week, so so many i don't even know where to start!! 💗💌💘💝💥💥 i will start at the beginning!

in my personal life, things were really REALLY looking up! i was a few weeks into recovery treatment, the sun was shining, dear friends from australia were over for a few weeks, and uni was also going very well!! 💘💕🌷✨✨🌞🌞 i very vividly remember how beautiful the weather was, while i was writing my fuckass lestappen fanfiction in front of my laptop, texting emma and quinine and just having an AMAZING time 💌💘💝 like genuinely... the weather was even good enough to hold a bbq with said australian friends!! they are actually friends of my dad but i have stolen them. my friends now. 💥💥💥💥 i also did k3t with my best friend which was great LOL i was genuinely having one of the best weeks of my life already, even before the race weekend!!! 🌞🌞✨✨🥰🥰🥰🥰

i remember watching fp2 on friday, something i never do, and going out to eat with mom afterwards 💕💕 the vibes were SO good‼️‼️ on a similar note, i remember drinking sake at this good japanese restaurant a day later and wanting to be home in time for fp3 (i didn't make it, who gaf 😁)✨✨✨ watching fp2 was actually sooo fun i just remember max zooming and me being happy... just happy to be there to be honest as i should be always 🌞🌷✨

if i recall correctly, this was the first qualifying i watched with my brother, my dad, and my now ex all together 🥰🥰 it was a beautiful sunny day outside, we had to close the door because mom told me i was yelling too loudly (true) 🗣️🗣️🗣️ and i was so excited... my brother was too fucking late setting up the laptop tho so i missed cheflop crashing IMMEDIATELY 😭😭 little did we know his flop era had only just began... biami ruined him 😵😵 but of course. the main course of this meal. mayhaps one of the best moments of maxs career let alone season‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ FINAL FUCKING LAP. my brother was so so convinced fernando would get pole ("he got it maple, he got it") because uhm obviously... and also he wanted fernando to win (i told my brother to wait till spain... and then till canada... and then etc etc etc) 😁😁 and somehow, idk how, but i told my brother: just you wait (yes sebastian vettel 2010 reference yada yada 🥺🥺🥺) because i had FAITH in our boy. religious sennacore faith idk what got into me that day 😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕 i said: he can do it. and i proceeded to lose my voice a second later. what. the. fuck. is wrong with that man WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM. HOW MUCH DID HE MAKE UP IN THAT FINAL SECTOR??? OH MY GOD. MAX VERSTAPPEN FINAL SECTOR MONACO QUALIFYING 2023 YOU WILL ALWAYS BE EXTREMELY FAMOUS AND LOVED 💘💘💘💘💕💕💕😭😭😭🌷🌷🌷✨✨✨✨✨✨💌💌🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨 genuinely i was in tears almost that was one of the best moments ever. period. and then also lestappen moment (i like your suit!) like OKAY? that was made for maple and maple only 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😁😁😁😁💥💥💥 i IMMEDIATELY went out for ice cream with my (now) ex after, being the happiest person in the world, and celebrating max's pole with the usual (a cold cider 🍎🍷). literally one of the best days of my year. except charles penalty but thats neither here or there (i was very upset)

THE RACE ITSELF WAS ALSO SO FUN‼️‼️‼️ like really really fun!!! the rain made everything a little bit more unpredictable, and in some cases, really fucking funny lmfao 🌧️🌧️🌧️ as seen in the gif of lance double-tapping, or checo binning it, or carlos in the wall... in all the chaos i was just very happy that max stayed out of all the drama.. when oscar afterwards said he was following what max was doing because that seemed safe 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕💥💥 SO cute. also esteban ESTIE BESTIE IS ON THE PODIUM BABY 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ iconique moments left and right. 🥰🥰🥰 AND OF COURSE max ayrton parallels w monaco and rain. yeah. 🥰🥰🥰

afterwards i think i bbqed, very very happy and content with my life and with the way things were going for me. it sounds a bit silly, and i don't want to attribute ALL my happiness this year to formula one, but this weekend... it's such a good example of how much this means to me. if max hadnt won, would i still have been happy? yes! of course! but thats because i still had something to look forward to, new friends to discuss it with, a new sense of purpose and joy. thank you formula one, thank you max 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕🌷🌷🌷🌷🌞🌞🌞🌞💌💌💌

✩ song of the race: wash - miki matsubara / extra - ken ishii

this will probably be the only time this season that a race has TWO whole songs associated with it, but the reason why is because these are two GREAT songs i came to know during the weekend of monaco‼️‼️💌✨ wash should become the intro for f1 and extra is just SUCH a good trippy song lol 🥰🥰

[java-lava]

Percy Jackson x Younger Sister!Reader.

(a/n; Thank you anon for the request! This was so fun to write!💗)

(To make things easier, when Percy is talking/thinking it will be in blue

And it will be in black when either is narrating,

When Reader is talking/thinking it will be in purple)

(Percy’s POV)

*camera zooms in on Percy laying down on a bed in the infirmary with an ice pack on his nose*

Ok, yes that is me…. Yes I look dumb, go ahead and laugh…. But to know how I got into this situation, I’ll have to start at the beginning. (And no, I don’t mean back how everything started with Chaos, and Gaia and Ouranos, I already told that story. I mean how everything started today)

Let me set the scene,

I was having a wonderful dream about me and Annabeth getting married (ah what a wonderful dream!) when I was woken up by the sound of pained whimpering. Now you might be thinking “ah a ghost” and that’s what I was thinking until I remembered that my sister is in the bed across the room in our cabin… give me a break! I was still half asleep!

As a wonderful big brother (even though she hates it when I call her my “little sister” because we’re only one year apart in age) I decided to check on her. You see, she had gone on a quest a few days ago and only got back a few hours ago. When I went to check on her I noticed blood staining the sheets of the bed…Obviously not a good sign. When she saw me she pretended to still be asleep, I know Annabeth calls me “seaweed brain” but I’m not stupid.

“I know your not asleep! Are you hurt-I mean obviously you’re hurt! What happened-never mind we gotta get you to the infirmary!” I said panicking

Look I know she’ll be fine once she eats some ambrosia, but I’ve seen way to many people I care about get hurt or die, and this was my baby sister so I was NOT chancing it.

I picked her up in my arms and ran to the infirmary, unfortunately there was no one there since it was in the middle of the night. I knew where to find the best doctor I know. I ran to the Hades cabin and knocked on the door as loudly as possible without waking up the surrounding cabins. Suddenly the door slammed open

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?” Whisper screamed a small emo.

“It’s (reader)! She’s hurt and no one is at the infirmary! I need to borrow Will!” I said hurriedly

“Σκατά! Will! Come here!” Said the tiny Anubis lookalike

Soon enough the sunshine boy himself came, once Nico filled him in on the situation, he followed me to the infirmary.

“So what happened?” Will asked my sister

“When I was on my way back from my quest, I was jumped by a monster.” She replied casually

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier!?!” I exclaimed

“I didn’t think it was that bad! I figured I could just down some ambrosia later but I forgot and then I couldn’t get out of bed!” She argued back

“Why didn’t you tell me?!? I could’ve helped! That’s my job! As your big brother, it’s my job to protect you!!!” I argued

“I can handle myself! Besides I didn’t want to worry you!” She said

“First of all, no. I’m ALWAYS worried about you. No matter what you and mom are the most important people to me. I know you can handle yourself! I trust in you and in your abilities! That doesn’t change the fact that I still care about you! That doesn’t change the fact that, like it or not, you are my little sister and I love you! If you get hurt you can always come to me, and I’ll be there no matter what.” I said trying to make sure she understood me.

“I know.…. I love you too… even if you’re annoying.” She said rolling her eyes at the end.

“You, my dear little sister, are the annoying one.” I snarked back.

“We’ll, that was touching…. Anyway, (reader l) you are clear to go, please refrain from waiting this long before getting treated for an injury. You’re lucky it didn’t get infected.” Said the doctor (is he a doctor? I mean, he’s younger than me!) after he patched up my sister and gave her some ambrosia.

“You got it doc” she said, saluting him (see, I told you she was annoying) (said affectionately)

Yep, this is where the story ends. Forget what you saw at the first of thi-

“Absolutely NOT! They need to know!!!”

“No!!!”

“Yes!!”

“No no no no no!”

“Yes yes yes yes yes! And I’ll be the one to tell it!”

“Ugh! Fine”

(Reader’s POV)

After the heart to heart with the Μαλάκας, and after getting cleared by my doctor,

We were leaving to go back to our cabin with Percy walking in front of me, when suddenly the door to the infirmary slammed open and smacked my brother so hard he went FLYING into one of the cots! You should’ve seen it! It was HILARIOUS!!!!! Conner Stoll came into the infirmary with Travis slumped over his shoulders (something about Travis trying to sneak hair dye into the shampoo in the Aphrodite cabin and getting caught, idk I was too busy laughing to listen)

And that kids, is the story of how the great Percy Jackson lost a fight to a door and broke his nose. (Don’t worry the ambrosia fixed it lol) I would, while I have your attention, give you a list of Percy’s top 10 most embarrassing childhood stories, but I’m tired so I’m going to bed. Good night!

Hey anon! I hope you liked this! Thank you for the request! And thank you for your patience! 💗

[hazashiovo]

Sarcastic number 9 With Aemond please 💗🙏🏽

You ask you shall receive!

"Do you want to fuck me or kill me?"

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Ps:this is gonna be a bit long, I like flavouring my fics🤭

It was simple, honestly, you and the prince allways one at each others troaths. Even so, everyone could feel the tension between the two of you.

It didn't matter if it was in a room or even outside. When you and Aemond shared a space the air got thiner and atmosphere dark.

It made sense, you being the oldest daughter of Daemon Targaryen, having his blood and a lot of his personality traits.

People often saw your father in you, you even looked alike, the one my problem was, you were a bastard.

The basic story, your father slept with the mom you don't know to this day and had you, he took you and raised you.

Fortunately you looked identical to him, but it was very suspicious that a few years later Daemon showed up with a mini him. Back to the story.

You like your dragon a lot, so that made Aemond pretty jealous. I mean, he had no dragon and you were so happily racing yours with his brother?

Whenever he said your name a bitter taste laid in his mouth. But how good he felt when he got the largest dragon alive, he felt like he kicked you in the face with a bold move as such.

When his nephew,Lucerys, bow your step-brother, took his eye you stood by, simply watching it unfold.

You found it amusing so you didn't interfere.

Because of that, many called you unwell in the head, but you only took those as compliments, making you more unique than Alicent or the other basic people that talk shit at court.

As years passed and you got older, and in many people's eyes, more attractive, you became even more wild.

You adored chaos, violence and having enemies.

Daemon could never be more proud, especially since you disobey him pretty frequently, that kinda sucks,but it shows him your from head to toe his daughter.

Not a day passes that he thanks himself for taking you with him.

What more can he ask?

Most of the time Otto, refers to you as a devil, while Alicent glares in disgust. Oh how you wish to wipe that smug of their faces.

You considered killing Alicent and her father, but than were would be the fun in watching them fuck up everything?

What you found more funny is when Aegon had company over, oh how many times you caught him fucking like a rabbit. He often suggested you to join in which you replied that if you will, by the next morning he will wake up next to his severed cock.

You laughs at face he made, sometimes you terrified even him.

Years went on and Daemon married Rhaenyra. You liked her, she was a nice company. This was, of course after Laena died, you liked Laena to, after all she was the one who gifted you your dragon as a child.

You were taught high Valeryan, but also sword fight and battle strategy. If anyone said anything about you marrying some excuse of a man you or your father would bring their tongue for a collection.

In concussion danger and chaos was written all over you.

Fortunately, you didn't spend much time in kings landing, since your family lived at Dragon Stone.

But the few times you visited you would constantly challenge the second prince.

Making rude remarks, insulting his mother whenever you got the chance.

But now that the king died? Now that Aegon usurped the throne, oh how you waited for this.

It saddened you to hear that Rhaenyra lost her baby,and your half sister.

It even raged you the reason.

You blamed Aegon, now you wanted to kill him.

It's funny how you don't actually need a reason to fuel your urge to kill.

Soon enough, Rhaenyra took the rightful crown, having a lot of houses support her.

At first she wanted to send Lucerys and Jacaerys, but Daemon suggested sending you alone.

"No,we both know how it could end if (Name) went alone, it would automatically start a war."

Daemon smirked, how he loved the reputation you carved out for yourself, but he didn't give up, in fact, he hoped you would start a war. To fuel his dragon blood for adrenaline and murder.

"Than perhaps she should acompany young Lucerys, you never know what could happen. My queen."

Barely convincing her she let the two of you go.

Before sending you, she made the two of you to promise not to go as fighters.

You went as lucerys's protector. With one final hug, Rhaenyra gave Luke the paper with her declaration and send you on your way.

Daemon nodded at you as you smirked, mischief on your face.

Once you landed and noticed Vhagar excitement took over you. If he was here ,it means the greens got ahead of you.

After you were brought inside, your eyes landed on Aemond.

Luke spoke with Boros, but you payd no mind, your eyes stuck on the white haired prince. Next to him stood a girl.

She's ugly, you thought. Even in your thoughts you were mean and unmercifully.

Soon enough things started getting heated. You only snaped back to reality when Boros yelled.

"Remind me of my father's oath?!"

his voice echoed, of course after the master read him the paper. The stupid fuck didn't even know how to read. You rolled your eyes at his tone.

You were so close to cuting his tongue off, he dares insult the queen in such manner?

You acoffed in annoyance, Aemonds eye resting peacefull on your form.

Boros continued,

"At least king Aegon came with an offer, a marriage proposal, what do you have to give child?"

You chuckled, grabing the attention of Boros and the rest of the people in the room, including Luke, who pleaded with his eyes for you to say nothing stupid.

"You call that usurper but when your rightful queen calls for you oath to her you insult her? Even more, dare request a marriage with one of her children in exchange for something you should respect?"

Oh he heard all about you, the vicious chaotic daughter of Daemon Targaryen. He didn't expect you to be here, but he knew you were your fathers flesh and blood, which scared him if he was to be honest, but if course, he would never admit it.

"You have something to say, girl? For what I know there is only one King sitting on the iron Throne, in which your mother claims to be heir but has no throne?"

A smile makes its way to your face.

"Perhaps I should bring your head to my father, but unfortunately not today... unfortunately, I swore not to come here to fight.Lucky for you, my, Lord."

The last words rolling of your tongue with venom and danger lacing them.

Your eyes look over to Aemond, you could notice how his jaw clenched in annoyance.

You only wished to challenge him further.

"After all... This happens to traitors, who work hand in hand with usurpers."

You smile viciously.

"You dare come into MY house and threaten ME?"

The Baratheon's angry voice filled the quiet room.

"Perhaps I should cut your throat in your sleep, my lord~"

Adding fire to oil, you added.

Luke looked so done with you, he knew you shouldn't have come.

"GET out! Both of you now!"

Boros yelled, not knowing if he should feel safe in his own home anymore.

"Wait."

Oh how you waited for this, you turned around, at the same time with Luke the moment you head the white haired princes's voice.

"My Lord strong,"

He continued, oh how you know he was looking for trouble. You smirked, finally some excitement.

"Did you really think, that you could just fly above the realm, trying to steal my brothers throne at no cost."

You stepped closer to Luke,noticing how Aemonds his eye lingered on you for a bit to long.

"I will not fight you,I came here as a messaged, not a soldier." Luke spoke, glancing at you. He saw the mischief in your eyes, and he was eager to leave as fast as possible before anything can go more bad then this.

"A fight would be a little challenge." Aemond spoke silently almost.

"No, I want you to put out your eye," he than took his eye patch of, exposing his sapphire eye. You must admit, it was mesmerizing.

Our allowed your eyes to take in his whole face. You must admit, the prince is handsome. Such a shame honestly.

"As payment for mine." He continued, throwing his dagger at your feet.

Aemond wondered if you would stay aside like you did when he lost his eye, no, he knows better than that, you like action.

You chuckled, moving closer.

"He will do no such thing my dear prince, not under my watch." A teasing smile shows on your face.

Aemonds face turned to fiery rage quick.

"give me your eyes, or I shall take it bastard! "

The prince lost his temper, now charging towards the two of you. Like always, you barely waited for s fight. Unfortunately for you Boros broke the tension, sending his guards to escort you and Luke outside.

You smirked, knowing he won't stop there.

Lucerys quickly made his way to his dragon Arax. Looking around you saw how bad the weather is.

Not long after Luke, you joined Caserion, your pitch black dragon.

Slowly petting his head, you climbee on him.

Soon , both of you were high in the air, Vhagar long gone.

The heavy rain landing drops on you, soaking you up.

Luke seemed pretty shaken up, so does Arax.

"Calm down little one, he shall do no harm to you as long as I breath." Reasuring him, you smile.

After a while flying you notice Vhagars large shadow.

Its funny, your dragon is her egg, would you look at that. Perhaps Caserion would be as large as her.

"Ñuhor līr gūrēnna!" Once close enough, trough the storm you could hear Aemonds angry voice. (I will take what's mine.)

You chuckle, eyeing your cousin/uncle up.

"Tubī daor kepus!"your raging voice answered like a devil. (Not today uncle)

You made a sign for Luke which way to go.

Once Luke was out of your sight you took it upon yourself to distract Aemond.

"Come uncle! Spill your rage in your dear niece! "

You maniacally laughed, having him come towards you.

"The two of you share the same debt, so I shall be satisfied with either one of your eyes. "

Choosing it's easier to fight on earth, you landed on a piece of land.

"Come fight me uncle! I'm craving for some royal blood! " you smirked, grabing only your dagger, as it was easier to move, and faster.

He landed feew meters away.

"I shall take what's mine, bastard."

The class of your weapons made you grin.

"You can try to earn it, brat."

In a quick move you got behind him, slicing his left tigh.

He turned around in a blink of an eye , sword to your neck, which you easily ducked.

Throwing your knife away and grabing your sword.

"This is fun! We should do this more often, ya know, family activity!" You chuckled as your swoeds danced together.

Aemond smirked, he wished to break you, your stupid personality and you charming face and behavior.

"I doubt you could fight me without your legs."

He spoke, a menacing look I'm his eye.

"Oh uncle, you shouldn't speak so inappropriately, after all, do you wish to fuck me or fight me?"

His one good eye widened in surprise of your lews words. You took advantage of his distraction, quickly pinning him down,point of your sword resting on his chest.

"Either way, I agree with either choice you make. Tho I am thinking, if I shall kill you or toy with you more... no, killing you would be dull. But if you ever look for a good fuck, make sure you're not seen entering my castle. "

You released him, quickly making way to your black beauty.

"Until next time, uncle~"

Once again you left Aemond frustrated and annoyed. Also with a little... Problem.

I am so sorry for making those so l9ng but I like adding detail and ya know, giving history to the character?

So like, I have 3 more request and then, I have more ideas for the following days, and also thank you all for 69 followers! I appreciate that people enjoy my fics.

Like the usual, you can find my Master list on my page and you can request whatever you want.

Bay bayyyy!