#toddler!wheezie

[princessbrunette]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

woke up thinking about big brother rafe, toddler!wheezie, and babysitter!reader again …

rafe getting jealous when he finds out you babysit other kids. he follows you about the kitchen at tannyhill as you prepare the toddlers lunch, smiling to yourself at his clear jealousy over something so trivial.

“so that’s why you can’t watch wheezie on sunday? who— who’s kid is it? like, who’s the parent?”

“thats confidential information rafe, i’m here every other day this week why does it matter?” you giggle, slicing up baby carrots to fit a toddler sized mouth.

he leans against the countertop, pressing his lips together and lets a silence fall over you for not even a minute. “wheeze is your favourite though right?”

you turn around with an amused smile, holding back your laugh at his pettiness. “what?”

“shes your favourite, right?” he stares at you, dead serious and you lean on one hip.

“of course she is. i’m here the most, aren’t i?”

“right, right… this kid you’re babysitting on sunday, they got any older brothers?”

“rafe, c’mon.” you giggle, a little flustered but you turn back to the counter to continue preparing the food to hide this.

“look, i— i’m just lookin’ out for you, alright? what if you go over there n’there’s some creep waiting for you?” he stresses and you shake your head, warmth blossoming in your chest.

later that day — the three of you head out on rafes boat, and for a little while, out on the open water, rafe drops the big bad bully act and lets his guard down. you watch as he holds his little sister on his hip, steering the boat with the other hand. you can’t hear what he’s saying, but the two of them are giggling. it’s the first time you really see rafe fill the ‘dad’ shoes, and it makes you wonder what it would be like to have your own baby with him. the idea makes your stomach warm and heart flutter.

within the next week or so, you end up at the same party as rafe on one of your free days. it’s the first time you’ve really hung out in a social setting appropriate for people your age, and it feels almost a little weird and awkward at first. as the night goes on and the drinks flow, things get more flirty. he had a super bad day, but with you here — things felt a little better.

rafe steps away to speak to topper for a few minutes, and in that time a total creep comes out of seemingly nowhere and begins to bother you. he talks too close to your face, starts to grab at you, doesn’t take no for an answer— you’re starting to think that you can’t actually escape this, until of course, rafe comes swinging out of nowhere.

but it’s not just a one punch and he’s done, no — rafe beats him bloody, the anger issues and coke and bad day piling up on him as he continuously beats on this guy. maybe he deserves it, sure — but when the guy stops responding and rafe continues to punch and yell, panic settles in your stomach. this guy might just die.

the crowd do nothing to discourage him, drunk and cheering him on as they circle round to watch, one hundred witnesses from every angle. you call his name, but you get ignored. he grips the guys collar, malicious open mouthed grin on his face as he holds him for a moment, looking at his masterpiece.

“rafe you’re gonna kill him!” you shout, trying to be heard over the cheering. he definitely hears, because he glances up at you— the look on his face reading that he just didn’t care. “its not worth it you’ll go to jail!” you feel tears in your eyes at the thought of him not being in the house with you and wheezie anymore. wheezie.

he lifts his fist to strike a final blow, and you holler out once more. “think of wheezie!”

it’s then he freezes, blinks a couple of times — and then just like that he looks around at the scene he’s caused and shoves off onto his feet, walking away. he walks away from the party, infact — he walks all the way home.

maybe he should keep his relationship with you professional, he could have been locked up for life that night. love makes you do crazy things.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

[impulsivemuses]

Zak and Wheeize do you two still have the separate stones that separate you two from each other incase and if you two were having a bad day and don't want to speak to each other until both of you calm down?

"We.... kind of agreed to never do that again... even if we WERE having a bad day. Zakkie and me are too scared of hurting other people if we stay away from each other too long." Wheezie's memory of the incident of the bouncy trampoline still plagued her mind of her friends getting hurt because she wanted TOO much fun and not the right amount of safety that Zak just KNEW how to keep. It taught her a lesson that they were meant to be together to work together better. That's why they had their 'separation' cones. Zak specifically kept it in his pouch at all times in case Wheezie or Zak got on one anothers nerves.

"We messed with things we didn't understand, and we learned that. Separation stones are scary magic. I made things bad and so did Wheezie." Zak reaches into his pouch from his tummy, rummaging for a moment and then pulls out a simple paper cone with the words "alone" on it. "My alone cone is enough and I'm okay with that." Zak would stuff the cone back into his tummy and smiled softly.

"Besides, I never stay too mad at Wheezie for long. She's my sister. I wouldn't ever want to be away from her just because she made me mad or something. Wheezie would do the same."

"Yep! Zakkie is the bestest brother I could ask for! That's why our dragon badges don't activate either when we're away, meaning we couldn't do magic as good!" She giggles. "Magic is an important tool! That's what Quetzal tells us."

[erwinsvow]

part two of rafe and shy reader! inspired by my lovely 💓 anon

rafe didn’t like it in the beginning. when he first met you, he thought it’d be a conquest, from the way you couldn’t even meet his eyes or would flush at anything he said. he always knew he wanted an obedient girl but you were something else entirely—painfully shy, skittish with any movement from him, eager to please. he thinks he could backhand you and you would apologize to him.

he drove you home from tannyhill, and on the drive back, he decided that you were going to be his.

you didn’t have any say in the matter. rafe told you that he would see you tomorrow, and you believed him instantly, not even stopping to question anything. the stories sarah and your other friends have told you through the past months circle through your mind—most of them involving drugs and violence. it seems so odd, because you would never suspect anything with the sweet way rafe treated you when he drove you home, reassuring you when you were crying, promising to try to not scare you again.

you come to the consensus that it’s always better to play it safe than sorry—you like the idea of being with rafe, but you can’t get involved in his life. it’ll be too much for you, and since you can hardly handle watching a horror movie, you know this is for the best.

rafe said he would see you tomorrow, so you try as hard as you can to make sure it doesn’t happen.

“are you coming over today? pool again?” sarah asks on the phone, and you lamely cough.

“not today, not feeling good. next time!”

she’s disappointed, but you think she’ll be even more disappointed if she finds out her brother wants to see you again. you think you’ve dodged a bullet, until your parents drag you to dinner on the beach. wearing your usual dress and a sweatshirt with the hoodie pulled up to cover your hair, you go with them, looking around and putting your sunglasses on to hide your face at the crowded restaurant.

you make it through most of dinner, but when you finally pull your sunglasses off to find the bathroom, you see him. rafe’s at the bar with his friends, amber liquid sloshing around in a cup in his hand. you freeze, and you think he’s seen you, so you turn around and head back to your table. you squish in between your parents and duck your head when anyone walks by, earning questioning looks from them. you finally get out thirty minutes later, sprinting past the bar with the keys in your hand to get back safely to the car.

rafe thought you would be a conquest, just not this kind. he thought he’d have a hell of a time coaxing out the shyness from you, spoiling and pampering his way into your heart until he was nestled in there forever, just like he had decided, but you were a different kind of challenge.

you stop coming to tannyhill, when you used to be there more often than he was. your pool days with sarah are replaced with trips to the beach, done at alternating times. if you even suspect one of the trucks pulling up is his, you take off in the other direction or run into the water. sarah’s confused, and you don’t feel like enlightening her.

“what are you doing? do you have a stalker that i don’t know about?”

“no,” you say, craning your neck to look behind her, making sure rafe isn’t there. “i’m just… getting my steps in. yes. that’s why i keep running off.” 

the shops that you often frequent, mostly just to window shop but every once in a while you’ll splurge and get yourself something new and pretty, are abandoned for online shopping. the bars that rafe frequents is just up the street, and you usually go alone, something you definitely can’t risk since the last time.

you had a new pair of sandals resting in your shopping bag, swinging from your arm as you stood outside the next shop’s window, staring at the mannequin’s outfit. lost in thought, you wonder how the outfit would look on you with your new shoes.

“hey, kid!” you hear from down the street. you turn your head quickly at the sound, because there’s only one boy in town who has ever called you that nickname. you see rafe a little further down, fast approaching. your eyes go wide. there’s only a few cars driving, so you take your chance with the next one and dart across the street, running down and then away. you worry about what will happen if rafe finds you with no one around—that you won’t be able to resist giving in despite knowing better.

when you get back to your car, you drive straight home. it’s only when you pull into your drive way and are about to get out that you notice the open shoe-box inside your bag. one sandal remained, and the other must have fallen on the street while you were escaping rafe.

even your nightly ice cream trips, your most sacred summertime ritual, had been disrupted by trying to avoid rafe. the ice cream place you and sarah loved was the one near tannyhill, so you had stopped going there in favor of the one closer to your own house, thinking that would help reduce your odds of seeing rafe. 

you had forgotten one small thing—the ice cream shop near your house was the one wheezie liked best. and there was always one person bringing her to get ice cream.

“can i get a medium, no, large peanut butter chocolate fudge? with hot fudge and peanuts?” the teenager behind the counter gives you an odd look, and you fight the urge to explain yourself. you pay and step aside, waiting for your ice cream, before someone behind you speaks up.

“what, you eatin’ your feelings, kid?” 

your body freezes, eyes wide, shoulders tensing up. you turn to see rafe and wheezie behind you, the little girl waving hi up at you. rafe’s laughing a little, but his smile disappears when you dart out of the door, running back to your car and pulling out. 

“rafe, she forgot her ice cream,” wheezie observes, as the girl behind the counter yells after you.

“yeah, i know, wheeze.”

you think you can make it through to the point where rafe stops caring, though it’s getting harder and harder to avoid him. after so many close calls, you make a point to stay at home, electing to sunbathe in your backyard instead of the beach.

it’s the perfect set up—lawn chair on the green grass, a cup of lemonade and your water resting next to you, your book in your hand, blocking the sun from your face while your body gets all the rays. with your headphones blasting your music—bryson tiller today—you don’t hear anything, not the birds chirping or the sound of a truck pulling up, the lock on your back fence unlatching or the footsteps getting closer.

it’s not until you set your book aside to take a sip of your drink, staring up at the sky before lifting the book open again, that rafe’s head pops into your eye-line, looming over you. 

“oh my god,” you jump up, startled. your book falls onto the grass. you yank off your headphones, setting it on the lawn chair while you look up, hoping what, or rather who, you just saw was a figment of your imagination. 

he’s not. 

you stare up at rafe, and then look behind him towards your fence, wondering how far you could get with no shoes and just a bikini.

“don’t even think about it,” he says, taking a step to cover the fence from your vision. “you know i’ll just catch you. can’t outrun me.” you flush, hands feeling clammy.

“i wasn’t gonna run.”

“yeah, right. like i believe that after the crap you’ve been pullin’ for the last week.”

“what crap? i didn’t do any crap.” 

he laughs, but you know he’s being serious. rafe crouches on the grass, at eye level with you now while you sit on the lawn chair. his eyes rake over your skin. you’re wearing the same blue bikini he saw you in when he drove you home, reading what can only be the next book in your series.

“get serious. why are you runnin’?” you feel your eyes get watery, instinctually.

“you said you wanted to see me the next day. and i’ve heard bad things. and i got scared.”

“bad things? ‘bout me? from who?” 

“i…i-”

“from who?” he repeats, and you get the sense that rafe doesn’t like repeating himself. words starting spilling from your mouth as a few tears escape. you don’t know why you’re crying, you never do.

“n-no one, i just, i know that you sell, um, drugs and that you get into fights. and you always have a new girl with you. and, and sarah said that sometimes you’re mean. and, um, well i’m pretty sensitive so, i just thought maybe this isn’t a good idea.” rafe nods, taking in your words. his hand comes up to wipe your tears away.

“and why didn’t you jus’ tell me that, hm?”

“because i knew if you got me alone i’d give in right away.”

“what’s so wrong with givin’ in?”

you look up at rafe, mind thinking a million thoughts, running through all the possibilities of what you were getting involved in, what could go wrong, what everyone would think. your head starts to hurt.

“stop thinkin’ so hard about it. you’ll hurt yourself,” rafe says, and your shoulders relax on their own at his words. you comply right away, falling into a hazy headspace.

“okay,” you agree, nodding. 

“what’re you worried about, huh? i’d never hurt you. all this time you’ve been over at tannyhill, have i ever been mean? didn’t i even apologize last time?” you keep nodding, taking in his words now, trying to fully understand the meaning behind them. 

he’s right—of course he’s right. he’s never once done anything to make you think he’s like what the others have been saying. you suddenly can’t remember what you were so concerned about. rafe’s words seem to reassure you immediately, and you think there would be nothing better than having him tell you what to do everyday.

“but if you think this—us—is a bad idea, i’ll leave now. i’ll stop botherin’ you.” he gets up, but you get up quickly too, catching his arm before he can turn.

“no! no, don’t go. you’re right. i-i was being stupid. i wanna see you tomorrow. i wanna see you everyday.”

“not stupid, kid,” he says, running a hand down your hair, holding you tight and close. you’re suddenly really aware of how thin and tiny your bikini is, how warm rafe’s body is, how butterflies are floating in your stomach and brain and pussy. “just need to stop thinking about what everyone else says. don’t worry. we’ll work on it.” 

you nod in agreement again, melting into rafe while he leans in to kiss you, hard and sweet.. you don’t know how long the two of you stand like that, only that he pulls away when you start moaning into his mouth, strings of spit connected between you two and your lips red. 

“get your shit, c’mon. takin’ you home with me. got your other shoe in the truck.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

daddys home

words: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, establish relationship (theyre married!), dad!rafe, mom!reader, p in v sex (protected), female receiving oral, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, readers stretch marks are described briefly

“when is daddy getting home?” your daughter asks for what feels like the millionth time since rafe left for work this morning.

you sigh, rubbing your forehead, hoping it alieves your splitting headache. “any minute now, poppy. why don't you go get a cup of water for him and leave it on the counter?”

you know that the task will occupy her for some time, having to drag her step stool that she uses when helping you cook around the kitchen to get a cup and fill it.

you let out a breath of relief when you hear rafe pull into the driveway.

“daddy! daddy!” poppy hears the noise as well, running to the garage door, jumping up and down excitedly as she waits for rafe to come in.

she jump-tackles him as soon as he opens the door. rafe laughs, catching her in his arms.

“hi baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of her head, toeing his shoes off onto the mat.

“welcome home.” you say, moving over to rafe, pressing your face into the shoulder that poppy isn't currently resting hers against.

“you okay?” rafe whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. he sets poppy down carefully, only half listening as she begins to tell him about getting rafe a water all by herself like a big girl.

“yeah, she's just been… a lot today.” you sigh, wrapping your arms around rafes waist, snuggling into his warm body.

“hey, poppy. wanna spend the night at aunt wheezies?” rafe asks.

“yes! yes! yes!” poppy screams, quickly flying up the stairs to her room with her unstoppable toddler energy to pack a bag.

“thank you.” you look to rafe, taking a moment to press a kiss to his lips.

“wheeze has been begging to have her over, she'll be so happy.�� rafe says, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “and you can get a real break.”

“god, i need it too.” you laugh, pulling away from rafe but not before giving him another kiss. “i love poppy to death, but she can be so exhausting some days.”

“aw, baby.” rafe coos. “why don't you go get in the bath, ill help poppy pack a bag then take her over the wheezies.”

“mmm, sounds perfect, can't wait to spend a night just us.” you wink at rafe before both heading further into the house and up the stairs. poppy has had a string of clinginess lately, especially at night knowing you and rafe are just down the hall, so she fakes nightmares to sleep in your bed.

it's nice having her so close, but at the same time you haven't been intimate with rafe in months.

“poppy.” you call into her room, seeing her stuffing pajamas into her backpack. “you be good for auntie wheezie, okay? ill pick you up in the morning and if you behaved, we can go to the park.”

“okay, mommy.” poppy nods, a serious look on her face.

“daddy is gonna help you pack then take you over.” you finish, looking to rafe.

“thank you again babe.” you whisper, rubbing your thumb over his cheek before heading towards your bedroom. you turn on the hot tap in the master bath, letting the jacuzzi tub fill as you scrounge in the cabinets for your epsom salt.

you let out a groan when you sink into the bath, eyes closing as you relax into the hot water, your muscles finally getting a break after entertaining poppy all day.

you relax in the bath until the water starts to turn room temperature. you pull the drain before getting out, toweling yourself dry. you go through your skincare routine quickly before pulling your robe on.

you exit the bathroom to see rafe on the bed, back against the headboard, having changed out of his work clothes to sweats.

“was she excited?” you question.

“poppy or wheezie?” rafe jokes, a soft smile on his face. “both of them were so excited, but i think wheeze might have more fun than poppy does.”

“that's good.” you laugh before taking a deep sigh.

“how are you feeling now?” rafe asks, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. you move to stand in front of him, letting your knees press into the side of the mattress.

“a million times better. no more headache.”

“good.” rafe tugs at the strap on your robe, not hard enough to undo it, but making his intentions clear. “wanna lay down?” 

“just lay down?” you smirk, raising one eyebrow.

“if that's what you want,” rafe takes your hands in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips, pressing kisses along your skin. “mrs. cameron.”

“i want you.” you tell rafe, taking your hand out of his grasp to tug your robe open, revealing yourself to him. you slide the fabric off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

“you're so beautiful.” rafe says, eyes sweeping over your naked body. he rubs a hand over your stomach, the small lines running over your skin, the physical reminder of your pregnancy.

“this part of you is the most beautiful.” rafe leans forward, kissing the stretch marks. “because it shows that you carried our daughter. kept her safe inside you for nine months until he she was ready to see the world.”

“you're gonna make me cry.” you sniffle, feeling tears start to form.

“wanna make you cry a different way.” rafe says, standing up suddenly while turning you swiftly, pushing your hips down so now you're the one sat on the edge of the mattress.

rafe sinks down to his knees, spreading your thighs open for him, revealing your cunt.

“you know-” you gasp when rafe begins to kiss along your inner thighs, inching closer to your center. “i was worried when i first got pregnant that you wouldn’t be attracted to me after i gave birth.”

“really?” rafe questions. “why would you ever worry about something as impossible as that?”

“pregnancy brain.” you shrug, eyes fluttering closed as rafe spreads your thighs further, wrapping his hand around your ankle and bringing your heel up onto the bed.

“well, mrs. cameron-” rafe leans in, licking a stripe straight through your folds. “no need to worry anymore, i find you very attractive.”

you smile, bringing one hand to rafes hair, clutching it between your finger as he dives in, tongue swiping through your wetness, tasting you on his tongue. rafe works his way up from your entrance to your clit before lapping over the sensitive skin there.

“taste so good mama.” rafe hums, letting his tongue flick and play with your clit. you let out a cry, glad that you’re able to be as loud as you want with poppy out of the house.

“more.” you whine.

“all these years later, carrying my baby and you're still my little slut.” rafe tsks, bringing his finger to your entrance and plunging it in, thrusting in and out slowly as his lips wrap around your clit, giving gentle sucks to build you up, tease you.

“can’t wait for you to fuck me.” you toss your head back, pushing your hips even further into rafes face.

“yeah, you miss my cock?” 

“all the time.” you whine, bringing your other foot onto the bed as well, spreading your knees wide open to give rafe even more space to work into you as he adds a second finger.

“you think after being married for five years you’d be sick of me.” rafe jokes, but you shake your head.

“never, daddy.” the nickname impacts rafe differently now that he is actually a dad, knowing it comes from a different place.

“god, i was gonna have you cum on my tongue three times before i fucked you, but i need you too badly.” rafe stands up, but not before pressing another kiss to your clit, now puffy and red from the attention.

rafe hesitates before reaching for the nightstand drawer, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but before you can comment on it, he is removing his clothes and rolling the condom onto his length and lining himself up with your cunt. 

he rubs briefly through your folds before pushing in, sinking into your pussy. you let out a loud moan, unafraid to get interrupted by your daughter as rafe copies your moan right back.

“such a perfect pussy for me baby.” rafe coos, beginning to pump his hips forward. you wrap your legs around his hips as he leans forward, pushing until your back is resting against the sheets. he hovers over you, pressing your lips together. 

you moan into his mouth, moving your hips up and down in sync with his thrusts. your bare chests are rubbing together, yours still slightly damp from the bath. your nipples catch as rafe moves, making you whimper.

“so big.” you cry out, hands moving along rafes back, feeling the cords of muscles as they stretch with his movements.

“filling you up real good, huh?” rafe smirks, cocky that he can still get you in this state just from his dick.

“so good.” you turn your head to bite rafes earlobe, tugging on it. “you know,-” you gasp when rafe speeds up. “this is the same position we were in when i got pregnant with poppy.”

you remember the night well, when you ran out of condoms and decided together fuck it, were married, and you were blessed with your little girl soon after.

“yeah? want me to take the condom off mama? fill your belly up again?” rafe asks, moving a thumb to your clit, rubbing it quickly.

“yeah, daddy, yeah i do- fuck!” your back arches off the bed as rafe pumps faster, your body quivering as his thumb strokes you to orgasm, the tightening of your cunt causing him to spill into the condom.

rafe breaths heavily, hips slowly grinding into you as you work through your highs.

rafe pulls out as you try to stop your deep gasps of breaths. he pulls the condom off and tosses it in the trash can before climbing back onto the bed, flopping down next to you.

“were you serious?” rafe asks.

you don't need any more context to know exactly what rafe is referring to.

“i wouldn't mind having another baby.” you say honestly. “besides, poppy will start kindergarten in around a year, so think about in around nine months having another little one.” you feel yourself already beginning to tear up at the thought, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“oh, baby.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling you into him. “well, since poppy is still at aunt wheezies…” rafe trails off, moving his hand from your waist lower to cup your pussy. “we can get trying right now.”

“it only took you one try for poppy.” you remind rafe, slinging your leg over rafes body, twisting yourself to sit on top of him, rubbing your cunt over his length.

“yeah…” rafe places his hands on your hips, flipping you over so your back is against the bed. “but maybe i want more than one try.” rafe says as his cock slides back inside of you.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 194

Bart is frozen. He’s terrified- his heart is beating faster in his chest than it’s ever done before yet he couldn’t even start to force himself to run, his body practically vibrating in place as he shook. 

There was a familiar feeling in the air, one he’d never thought he’d ever feel again once he’d slipped back in time. He couldn’t breathe, everything felt like it was falling away except for that horrifying fiery aura- 

“Kid, are you okay?” There was a hand on his shoulder, light as a feather (he’d learned that from gramps!) yet grounding. 

He finally managed to suck in a breath, however wheezy, and looked up to answer, the words dying in his throat before they even began. 

“Kid? Holy shit-” Bart didn’t hear anything else as his poor brain fizzled and he fainted. 

Danny blinks down at the barely-teenager who seemed to just have some sort of attack before fainting practically in his arms. He’d say diabetes or something, but he has no way to be sure and is maybe panicking himself. 

“Wow Mum, wha’ you do?” a toddler Dan- he knew what he did but honestly his baby lisp was adorable- snarked from next to him, chewing on his kid leash. Which he wasn’t getting out of until he could both stop floating whenever he saw the stars (yes he knew he used to do the same thing, shush) and walk out into traffic. 

[marvelfanfics1]

I got reeaaally inspired for this one and it might be a biit dark😭 (from the scene where Rafe litteraly ask Wheezie if she wants drugs) how about toddler/little!reader (it's up to you) who catches Rafe doing drugs and as innocent as she is, she thinks it's sugar and keep asking Rafe to try it 🤭

I love these scene based requests sm!!

Warnings: age regression, drugs + consumption (not by reader!!)

Rafe takes out his phone, nodding to himself at seeing how late it is. You should be napping for 30 more minutes, enough time to do a quick line.

Despite knowing that he shouldn't even be doing it with you in the house he just can't help himself. He tried to stop doing coke for your sake but it's not as easy as he thought it would be. So, he's still decent enough to only do it when you're sleeping or out and about.

He places his phone on the table in front of him, leaning back to fish out the baggie from his pocket, carefully pouring a good amount of its content onto the table. Next he grabs his credit card to prepare a line.

Leaning down he snorts the line, sitting up straight again he tilts his head back and wipes his nose. The moment he lifts his head again he curses under his breath when he sees you standing in the doorway with your lamb held in your hand.

"You should be napping." He says, quickly but subtly moving everything from the table that you're not supposed to see, sniffing and rubbing his nose again.

"Want to cuddle...you weren't there." You mumble quietly, fiddling with the ear of your plushie, a slight pout forming on your face. "What you doin'?"

"It's- grown up stuff." He simply dismisses, leaning back in his seat he pats his thigh, spreading his legs a bit more.

Without hesitation you rush over to him, getting comfortable on his lap, your favorite place to sit and take naps.

"Can I twy some of the sugar?" You suddenly ask and Rafe huffs out a laugh.

"Oh, definitely not. That's nothing for little girls like you and I want you to forget what you saw, a'ight?" He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up so you see that he's serious.

"But-" the moment you start to complain he raises an eyebrow, cutting you off.

"Ah, don't forget who you're talking to. I said forget it." His hold on your chin tightens a little for emphasis.

You pout again but try to nod anyways, knowing that you should listen to what he says. Daddy always knows best. The phrase repeats in your head time and time again in situations like this.

"Yes daddy." You answer quietly.

"Atta girl..." Rafe smiles at you, pulling you closer to kiss your cheek.

You start to giggle and smile, the situation instantly forgotten again the second you get affection from him.

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For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[farter-imperator]

Thinking about Dew with asthma. Specifically, little Dew with asthma.

Dew playing quietly on the playmat in the common room, content to line up all his toy cars while his plush dragon, Dio, watches on. Swiss is also watching.

Every so often, Dew coughs or clears his throat. Swiss can't figure out if he's just got a tickly cough, or if it's something more. Either something viral, or an asthma attack.

He asks softly "Dew, buddy? Are you okay?"

Dew gives him a toddler cough in return.

"Alrighty, then. You tell me if you start to feel worse."

It's a few more minutes, Dew rearranging his cars by height, occasionally watching the TV. Swiss put on Bluey for him, but Swiss is watching it more than he is.

And then Swiss hears the wheeze.

Just a little crackle in Dew's throat at first. But Swiss' head snaps up nonetheless.

"Dewy? How are we feeling?"

"U-Uhm... 'Eezy..."

"Wheezy, bud?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need your inhaler?"

Swiss already knows the answer. Little Dew does not like his inhaler. But his choices right now are, 1) use the inhaler, or 2) don't use the inhaler and end up in the infirmary.

Swiss reaches under the coffee table and grabs Dew's spacer kit. It's never far from reach when Dew's little. He won't take his inhaler without a spacer when he's little.

He moves onto his knees on the floor, kneeling by Dew. Dew whines at the sight of Swiss setting up his inhaler, but his wheezes are becoming more frequent and his chest is burning a little.

The spacer is clear, with teddy bears printed over it, and a mask on one end.

Swiss wraps his arm around Dew and brings him into his lap. Thankfully, Dew doesn't protest, apart from a little wheezy huff.

"Gonna be a brave little guy for me, huh?" Swiss asks as he clicks the inhaler into place. Dew shakes his head, burying his face against Swiss' chest. "Yeah, I know. You don't like it. But we've gotta do it, buddy. You'll feel super yucky if we don't give you your puffs now."

Dew turns his head from one way to the other, like a baby refusing a bottle as Swiss holds the mask up. Eventually, however, the tight feeling in his chest wins and he lets Swiss hold the mask over his mouth and gives him the first puff.

"Nice slow breaths, bubby. Yeah, that's it, you're doing great. In and out. In and out. Good job..."

Dew looks up at him with big eyes, taking shaky breaths. After a little while, Swiss gives him another puff of his inhaler, his thumb gently rubbing Dew's cheek.

Dew's breathing slows eventually, and then he cuddles into Swiss, tired out after his little eezy episode.

[marvelslittlewhore]

Bonding

SUMMARY | You and Rafe have more in common than you both thought.

-requested by anon

PAIRING | rafe cameron x adopted!teen!reader

WARNINGS | drug consumption, yelling, arguing, hurt/comfort, soft!Rafe, fluff at the end

            ◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

You have been living with the Camerons for a few weeks now, still getting used to yet another family who grantly took you in. You're related to them, but not by blood. Your so-called mother met your stepfather when you were just a toddler, both quickly bonded over the fact that they're drug addicts.

You were only 6 when you got ripped out of your home and thrown into the system, going to family after family, everyone claiming you were too much to handle.

Now you were a teen and the system surprised you one day when they told you they found some of your relatives.

"They live in the Outer Banks. Ward and Rose Cameron already await you with open arms." The social worker told you with a smile while you only sighed, slumping in your seat before her desk. Great, another family who are 'oh so happy' to get to know you.

Now here you were, sitting in your room at Tannyhill and it was just how you expected. Ward did seem like a nice guy all until the papers were signed and the social worker left. He showed you your room and since then you were just air to him. A charity case to show off at events or the country club, to let everyone know what a good guy he is and how generous for finally getting you out of the system.

You hated it. After all these years of being thrown back and forth from family to family, you were now stuck here, adopted by someone who doesn't even acknowledge your presence when entering a room.

At least his kids, or your new siblings you suppose, talked with you and showed you around the Outer Banks.

Wheezie is funny and very smart. You both had a movie night once every week or sometimes you would go shopping with her, loving to just listen to her rambling or gossiping about school, sometimes she even asked you for advice.

Sarah took you several times to the Chateau where you got to know the pogues, they're a chaotic group of friends but it's nice feeling included in something.

And then there was Rafe. You don't really talk much, just the usual small talk when you would go to the kitchen to get water or when he passed your room, peaking inside to ask if you want to join him by the pool.

            ◃◦--------●--------◦▹

One evening you got home late, stumbling through the door, high as a kite, and didn't notice Ward standing there with his arms crossed until you kicked your shoes off jumping in surprise when you turned to face him, placing a hand on your chest.

"Where were you?" he asked, his tone laced with anger.

"Out." you simply shrugged, about to walk up the stairs when Ward turned you around, grabbing your chin in one hand and examining your face.

He scoffed with a smile, letting you go harshly, making you stumble a little before he snapped at you. "You're grounded!"

"What?!"

"You heard me. For the next two weeks you won't leave the house except for school," he said crossing his arms.

"But I bet I still have to go to that stupid midsummer event, right? Have to keep up your reputation?" you laughed mockingly.

"What are you on about?"

"As if you don't know! I'm nothing but a charity case to you, a trophy you can show around and live on your act as the generous Ward Cameron, so no one knows what an actual asshole you are!" you screamed in his face, pointing a finger at him.

"You better watch who you're talking to you brat!" he shouted back.

"You're pathetic. Doing everything for another dollar in your pocket as if you don't have enough already!" you waved your arm in the air.

"Alright, you just earned yourself a month of being grounded! There are rules and as long you're under my roof and care you're going to follow them. Unless you want to end up like your mother, pregnant and as an addict."

"Fuck you!" You flipped him off, stomping up the stairs and to your room, slamming the door shut before throwing yourself on your bed burying your face in a pillow.

You never wanted to be here in the first place. You screamed into your pillow in frustration before the tears started to fall, sobbing quietly.

When you heard someone knocking on your door you ignored it at first, groaning when the knocking continued and shouted. "Leave me alone!"

It didn't stop and you sighed, wiping your face before going to answer the door. "I said leave- oh, it's you."

Rafe stood before you, hands in his pockets and lips pressed in a thin line. "Hey, I- uhh, heard what happened downstairs." he coughed awkwardly. "I just wanted to see if you're okay."

"Perfectly fine." you said with a sarcastic smile, about to close the door again.

"You want some company?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

You were about to turn it down but decided against it, nodding your head you stepped to the side, a silent invitation for him to enter.

You walked back over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, and patted the place next to you. He sat down next to you, rubbing his hands over his knees.

"So, what happened?"

"I thought you heard it?" you raised an eyebrow with a small smile on your face.

"Yeah, okay, you got me." he chuckled. "You know, Dad gets angry fast, you shouldn't take it seriously."

"Don't worry, he's nothing but a clown to me." you both laughed.

There was silence for a moment before you sighed, looking down at your hands, fidgeting with them.

"I just feel so out of place, not only here. I feel like this everywhere. I know it sounds stupid...but...I just want to feel loved and appreciated. There wasn't a single family where I felt at home." You told him, tears already forming in your eyes again. "I know I can be a lot to handle, at least, that's what I've been told my whole life..."

The tears you tried to hold back started to flow down your cheeks. Rafe straightened, slightly panicking at seeing you cry. He reaches behind you, soothingly rubbing your back.

"Shh, it's okay. C'mere." he pulls you more into his side.

He continued to hold you while you soaked his shirt in your tears, but he couldn't care less right now.

"It'll be okay, and hey, don't you know how much Wheezie and Sarah love you?" he asked and you pulled back to look at him, wiping your tears away, sniffling.

He wanted you to know that there are people who love and care for you, himself being one of them. He related to you more than you'll ever know. Being the oldest he tried to be a role model for his sisters, failing miserably, but he still did so much to get his father's attention, receiving nothing in return, not even a pat on the back.

"Really?" you asked, eyes big and filled with hope.

He nodded. "Really, trust me. You're not out of place, you just need time and that's totally valid after all you've been through." he noticed the confusion on your face since you never really talked with anyone about your past. "I've done some research," he admitted and you nodded.

"Thank you, Rafe." You smiled, still sniffling a little.

"Don't mention it, kid." he smiled, reaching a hand up to ruffle your hair. "Now, how about we go and watch a movie? Wheezie had been nagging my ear off about some new horror movie."

"Sounds perfect. I'm grounded anyways, so I don't have any plans." You shrugged making him laugh again.

            ◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹

Taglist

For everything:

@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216

[leclerc-drives-in-circles]

Disney Could Never (Rafe Cameron)

summary: Rafe comes up and tells you SOMETHING while you watch a movie with Wheezie.

Warnings: sexual innuendos-ish, sorta fluff, rafe being lowkey kinda adorable, swearing, confusion, idek but hope you enjoy even though it took me like three weeks to write this

A/n: this is something I'm doing with @pink-princess-pussy-pop so enjoy!

-

You were hanging out in the family room of tannyhill with Wheezie watching The Little Mermaid and just hanging out when you realize you ran out of snacks so you went to the kitchen to grab more.

"Hey, Wheeze, I'm gonna go grab more snacks, okay?" You tell her quickly running to the kitchen because you didn't want to miss any of the movie you've seen countless times.

You're speeding through grabbing the snacks when you feel a strong pair of arms around your waist and a head on your shoulder with a kiss to your neck.

"If this isn't my wonderful, amazing boyfriend than someone is getting punched." You said severely scared about whether or not it was Rafe.

"Don't be scared sweetheart, it's me." Rafe said with the sweetest little gravely sleepy voice that you've been in love with for two years.

"Okay. How you doing sleepyhead?" You ask him in a joking manner but also kinda serious about it and when he doesn't answer you get scared and confused. "Baby, are you okay?" You say turning around in his arms to find him asleep and using you as a form of balance. "Baby, time to wake up. Hello, Rafey?" You say in a soft voice not wanting to startle him.

He groans at your efforts and stands up straight, looks at you with the most sleepy eyes you've ever seen and for a split second you feel bad for waking him up but you quickly shake the thought when you decide to continue on with the snacks. After he realizes that you aren't going to treat him like the huge toddler he is he whines something that sounds like a muffled version of your name into the crook of your neck qnd when you don't respond he walks away to what you thought was your shared bedroom upstairs but oh how wrong you were.

"Okay, Wheeze, I've got some Goldfish, Swedish Fish, little fishing rods I made with pretzels and some sea creature fruit snacks...Rafe, I thought you went back upstairs." You say severely confused as to why your 6"2 boyfriend is splayed across the couch that you and his sister were previously chilling on watching a movie.

He looks up at you with sleepy eyes and your heart melted "not without you baby." he whined with the cutest little pout you have found nobody else could get out of him.

"Come on, Rafey. Time to go upstairs. I'll br back, Wheeze." You say helping Rafe stand up to the best of his current abilities. As soon an you get to your bedroom he falls into a deep slumber or so you thought when you went downstairs.

You thinking Rafe is asleep you sit back down with Wheezie and continue watching the movie that at this point you have missed half of so far because of Rafe wanting cuddles which you cannot give him you suddenly feel breathing on the back of your neck followed by "I'm so hard right now, babe." Whispered in your ear praying to God the Wheezie didn't hear.

"Rafe, please stop scaring me."

"Sorry, babe, you just look so good today" He says with an evil smile you're sure he had to muster up from the depths of his soul because not even ten minutes ago he was falling asleep on your shoulder.

"Hey, Wheeze, I'll be back in just a sec-" you try to say as you get cut off by Rafe pulling you to the other room. "Rafe! What are you doing?" You say rushed so he can't cut you off.

"Sorry, Love, I just wanted to say hi." He says with that signature Rafe smirk.

"You could have just said 'Hi, Babe.' Instead of saying what ever THAT was infront of your 13 year old sister. Don't you think?" You say obviously pissed at him for saying something like that infront of Wheezie.

"M'Sorry Love. Can I kiss you now?" He says with a sincere look that you're not sure you should believe because you know him like REALLY WELL.

"Fine. But only one." You say in a joking tone, one that you both know is fake.

"Okay, baby, whatever you say." He says closing the gap between the two of you not wanting you two to ever leave this moment. At the same time you hear a faint "Ewww, Get a room you two!" Behind you which you could only guess was Wheezie because Ward was at his office, Rose was out somewhere doing Lord knows what with the other Figure Eight Moms and Sarah was with the pogues so it kind of had to be her.

"Sorry, Love, I didn't want her to walk in." He said after pulling away just a bit.

You knew he was telling the truth and gave him a quick peck not knowing when Wheezie would give you two alone time.

"It's okay Rafey, I still love you." You mumble quickly trying to escape him knowing he would never actually let you go without him into the other room.

He looks at you with the cutest serious face he could muster up from the deepest part of his heart. "You better, because if you didn't that would have been a waste of time for both of us." He says somehow annoyingly deadpan.

You just roll your eyes at him because you just want to finish the movie with your boyfriend and his sister because at this point he won't leave you alone.

A/n #2: English IS my first language but I suck at it so I hope you understand also absolutely love this story and if you want more just lmk bc I always want more stuff to do.

Ask me if you want to be apart of my tag list

[princessbrunette]

how do we think rafe is celebrating easter with the bunny herself !!!!!

୨♡୧ 🎀 ᰔ 🎀 ໒ྀི꒰ ◞ ‌ ◟ ꒱ྀིა

easter in the cameron house is a big deal.

from noon, there’s an easter egg hunt for toddler!wheezie / even just regular wheezie because she’s only 13 and she prob thinks she’s way too grown for it but ward writes the clues and hides them about and she feels too bad to let him know. plus, it’s a little fun — even sarah joins in. rafe is usually long gone by this point, but because you’re with him now he often hangs about.

the chefs prepare a large lunch which you all eat outside in the sun. family time was never rafe’s favourite but it’s more tolerable with his sweet girl tucked into his side wearing a little floral sundress. the rest of the day is kind of a free-for-all — except the rest of them head out for an evening walk together leaving rafe and you in the house alone.

the time is spend wisely, as he’s lounging on his bed you arrive at the foot of it in skimpy bunny lingerie costume, swinging a little basket in your hand. he’s quick to toss his phone aside, smirk sliding onto his face.

“what’s uh, what’s this huh?” he sits up, eyes raking over you. “do a spin for me.” he nods at you and you do, sure to shake your fluffy little tail at him. he hums in appreciation, giving it a playful little tug.

“just a bunny lookin’ for a carrot.” you giggle at the corniness of your own joke, fluttering your lashes shyly at your boyfriend. he huffs out a quiet laugh, wrapping an arm round your middle to easily pull you to straddle his lap.

“yeah? i got one of those, for sure… yeah…” he nods, frowning with a faux serious expression for a moment, hands sliding down to grope you. “think you uh, got some eggs for me, right?” he jokes quietly, nipping at your jaw as you start to grind on him, letting out an elated breath.

“yep, sure do daddy.” you muse and you feel him smile against your skin.

“alright then, bunny girl. let’s waste no time.”

୨♡୧ 🎀 ᰔ 🎀 ໒ྀི꒰ ◞ ‌ ◟ ꒱ྀིა

[waythroughtheice]

One of the best parts of Geo Wily is that Luna will eventually show up.

I can't decide if its funnier if she ignores the cult completely or starts trying to organise them so Geo can actually go to school. She definitely doesn't really blame him in this universe.

She's seen what they can do when Geo isn't holding the toddler leash. (He had a sick day.) They would have broken all of the transportation infrastructure if they didn't get a wheezy call from "boss" telling them to knock it off. This was a couple years ago. Who knows what they'd do now.

If Luna just. Casually ignores them there'd be shenanigans involving the Cult trying to recruit an entire school. Luna'd have enemies.

If she helps organise the Cult the cult thinks they're all dating. Geo has a poly? Dating a superstar girl too? Okay. Kid has skills. (Geo only learns they think this several years later.) But hey. They also listen to his friends now?

When the cult finds out about Megaman they are super supportive about "stealing your enemies' name!" Less supportive about the superhero bit. Mostly because he's being chased by cops already. Why is he making it worse. The cult declares Zero (I hope that's the name Kazuma uses. I might be guessing wrong. Limited knowledge) their enemy arount this time. Balance semi restored.

No matter what all happens Wily is insistent that this is all according to his plan. (There is no plan. Wily is a liar. Wily is just glad his kid has friends his own age.)

Hope knows about none of this. Kelvin was very careful to keep her away from the Cult. She has made friends with the Cultists that drop Geo off regularly. She thinks they're Kelvin's cousins. Geo is sufferig with knowledge. The Cult behaves when Hope is arount. Help Geo. Please?

Omega-Xis and Wily teach these kids swears. They are horrible influences. Tom gets adopted by Wily and the cult. Geo only hears little stories. Geo does not know what is actually happening and asks the Cult to keep him safe from any rivals. Making it worse. Viscous cycle. Boreal keeps increasing security but they "kEEP GETTING IN THEY'RE LIKE ANTS I SWEAR! Oh hey Geo. Can you do something? It usually gets better for a bit when I talk to you. Because today Tom got-" it takes years for everyone to figure it out.

Geo still area hops. Confusing every cop keeping and ear out for the Wily heir. Copper is the only one not worried about plans. Copper has seen Geo yell at his cult that he has no words and then lecture them about not causing chaos for four hours. Copper at this point has seen some shit.

The Cult (and Wily) only really get dissapointed in Geo and Co. when they work for the police in three. And even then The Cult also does not want a meteor to the face so they can deal with it *cue another four hour Geo lecture.*

Kazuma should help with the meteor. I just think it'd be funny if they met while neither was ripping the other's name to shred by mistake. Bonding.

Solo is still normal Solo. The cult wants him. The cult will never get him. They want the rival on their side damn it!

Sorry just now I'm invested. (God fucking damn it I already have things to do.)

LOLOL

Okay, so--

I think Luna would regard Geo as a rival. Think of it! He has so many supporters already, and actually Luna discourages Geo from going to school (Geo never goes back to public school in this verse, too busy with homeschooling multiple grades ahead and his rivalry with one Kazuma Hikari.) They get into shenanigans with each other, and Luna decides she wants a cult following of her own. (The world trembles.)

The cult is so supportive of the tiny Boss. He's doing the Great Wily SO PROUD! He's stealing the enemy's name, taking all their supporters.....more people for the cult! They sell merchandise. Geo is appalled.

When Zero shows up (you got it!), they at first fight then become best friends. The cult decides Kazuma Hikari is absolutely the tiny Boss's right hand man. Look at the tiny boss go, subverting the enemy!

Hope is blissfully unaware of the chaos. The Cult loves her and her glorious cooking and baking. Geo is dying in the background.

Omega-Xis and Wily are best friends, in the vein of two old men cackling together in a back room. Yes yes yes to the swears, and yes to Tom getting adopted--Boreal also gets adopted. No he has no say why would he have a say?

Geo area hops, and the Cult is Confused but Very Supportive of his speed. He's expanded their reach! Look at his initiative! They follow wherever he goes, only to find him gone already. Oh well, guess it's time to start recruiting and sell merchandise......

They're disappointed at first until they realize the tiny Boss can destroy the police from within! Such initiative!

Kazuma is helping with the meteor. Such a terror. The Cult loves their right-hand man.

Solo is the lone sane man along with Geo. Geo and Solo meet up for drinks (read, soda) and to commiserate about their lives.

[stellagibs0ns]

If you’re still up for Bedannibal prompts- could you do Bedelia being super comforting/nurturing towards their daughter in a time of need (nightmare? Minor injury? Illness?) and Hannibal looking on with heart eyes at their interaction?

Bonus points if they have a convo about how Bedelia previously felt she would be cruel rather than kind towards weakness. Many thanks!!

omg LOVE this so much <3 and i will always want to write mom bedelia

—

The low light of the room casts tall, dark shadows across the lavender walls. A wheezy cough crackles through the silence, followed by gentle, motherly shushing.

“Drink, baby,” Bedelia says gently, holding the glass of water to the lips of her three year old. “Slowly. That’s it.”

Her daughter is feverish, shivering. Coughing and sniffling. She’s tucked up in bed with the curtains drawn and her night light casting stars across the room.

Bedelia presses a cool hand to her child’s forehead, and purses her lips.

“Mama…” the girl whines, clutching at her mother’s robe. She’s weak, vulnerable, and it breaks Bedelia’s heart to know that she can only do so much. Only so much medicine, only so much water. She cannot take this away from her, despite it being nothing more than a cold.

“I know, darling,” she says, shifting closer onto the bed and cradling her girl to her body. Her blonde hair is sticking to her forehead, and Bedelia smooths it back and presses a soft kiss to the feverish skin. “The medicine will work soon. Be brave for me.”

The child nestles into her mother’s side, another wheezing cough cracking through the air. She has to remind herself that she’s doing what she can. She trusts her husband and his medical knowledge. She understands that it’s a simple cold. And yet there’s nothing she can do to stop the way her heart heaves with worry.

This child is her life. It’s her duty to protect her, to adore her. Above that, it’s instinct. There is nothing she would not do for her daughter. Nothing in the world.

A creak from the door draws her from her thoughts, and she glances up to see Hannibal. He’s watching over the two of them. The way she cradles their young girl. His eyes are fond and shining, but he doesn’t intrude — he understands how she values her independence, her instincts as a mother.

Quiet breaths come from beside Bedelia, their daughter having fallen into a twitchy sleep. She doesn’t imagine she’ll sleep much tonight. Not when she has a child to tend to. However, that’s never been much of a chore to her, and she doubts it ever will be.

Hannibal cocks his head, a silent question.

Bedelia quietly removes herself from the toddler’s bed, careful not to wake her. She presses a gentle kiss to the girl’s forehead once again, and lingers for just a moment as she watches the way her eyelashes flutter against her rosy cheeks. A familiar ache settles in her chest.

She slips from the room, leaving the door ajar.

“How is she?” Hannibal asks, his voice steady and low.

“Still feverish. Fussy, but she’ll sleep for an hour or two,” Bedelia says, clearing her throat.

A pause rests between them for a moment.

“You make an excellent mother, Bedelia.”

Something passes over her face, and she wordlessly rests her cheek against her husband’s shoulder.

“I had imagined you as a mother many times. The idea, however pleasing, was always abstract,” Hannibal explains. “Until, of course, you brought our child into the world. And it was more stunning than I could’ve possibly imagined.”

A silence.

“I was never maternal,” she says finally.

“No, perhaps not. I recall you once told me that cruelty is often less troublesome than caring for another. That it will save a great amount of pain. And yet, I’ve never seen somebody care so deeply for their child. What do you make of that?”

She stiffens in his arms for a moment, before reminding herself he means well. He’s curious, by nature.

“That didn’t necessarily extend to…every situation. I believe, at the time, I had my…aversions. To your relationship with Will Graham.”

She can’t see his face, but she can tell his expression changed.

“You spoke out of envy?”

“Partially, yes,” Bedelia replies. “However, it was partially true. Caring is not always an advantage, and, at the time, I believed it would land me in an…unsavoury position. It wasn’t so much guidance as it was reflection.”

Another beat of silence.

“Do you believe you’ve changed?”

She lets out a short, breathy laugh.

“I carried our child for almost nine months. And God knows she wants for nothing. As though I could deny her. I’d like to believe I’ve changed, and I’d like to believe for the better. That girl is my life. And I would stop at nothing to keep her safe, happy.”

Hannibal draws her back a moment, his hand resting on her cheek.

“Motherhood is treating you very kindly, Bedelia,” he says, his voice thick with adoration. “Very kindly, indeed.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead, as she did to their child.

“Rest for an hour. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

[cringemesstickles]

Tiny Tickles

(TickleTober Day 31: Aftercare, the TickleTober Finale)

Summary: Sam wants more tickles, but Dean thinks he needs to breathe (weechesters)

Pairing: none

Word Count: 300

A/N: Well friends, it’s been a pleasure. Tickletober went by so fast and I can’t believe it’s over 😭

I had lots of fun participating this year and I hope y’all had fun as well! Till next year~ 🧡🧡

Happy Halloween!!! 🧡🎃🧡

———————————————————

“Sammy, are you sure you want more?” Asked Dean, pausing his tickle attack on Sam to look at his flushed face. Sam nodded frantically, panting and giggling, brown curls bouncing with him.

“Mo, Dehehehee!”

Despite Sam’s pleas to keep going, his laughter was beginning to go silent and wheezy, and Dean could tell that it was time to call it quits. He slowed his fingers to a light spidery motion before stopping completely, sitting up and crossing his legs so that he could pull the giggling little boy into his lap.

“Deeean, mo tickles!!” Whined Sam, looking at his big brother with pleading eyes.

Dean chuckled.

“Later, Sammy. You need to breathe for awhile, alright?”

Sam pouted but seemed to accept it.

“Okay��� pwomise tickles later?” He looked at the older boy with his signature puppy dog eyes, causing him to smile with endearment.

“Promise. Now how about you take a little nap? You can barely keep your eyes open.”

The toddler let out a big yawn, proving his brother’s point.

“Okay, De… love you.” With those words, he snuggled up to his big brother, gently holding the fabric of his sweater in his tiny hands, taking comfort in listening to the boy’s heartbeat.

Dean felt his chest tighten at the innocent words and he pressed a kiss to the soft curls of his baby brother.

“Love you too, Sammy...”

Once he had the kid situated, he started to brush his fingers through the soft brown hair, twirling a strand between his finger every now and then.

“Hehe..”

“What’s with the giggling?” Dean asked with a chuckle when the silence was interrupted.

“Tummy still tickly…” Tittered Sam.

The older boy shook his head fondly before sneaking a hand under his brother’s shirt, rubbing away the leftover tickles.

“Better?”

“Mhm.. hehe”

[amethystunarmed]

It Can't Be Undone Chapter 2

Word Count: 4,795 Chapter 1 Ao3 Link Detailed CW on AO3

When he realized what the Lords were asking Steph to do, Peter hadn't thought it was much of a choice. If it was him or Steph, it wasn't going to be Steph. And part of it made sense, didn't it? He and Richie and Ruth were a unit. Ted called them pack animals, and stopped bothering to ask if they were coming over when he picked up Peter from school. They were inseparable.

So doesn't it make sense he would follow them here, too?

As he waits there, on his knees, breath illuminated by the stadium lights, he wonders if one of the Lords in Black will wear him, the next time they're summoned. 

Probably the yellow bastard.

“I’m ready,” he tells Steph, even though he isn’t. 

The gun goes off and Peter doesn't die and for a moment, Peter feels disappointed. Then Max Jägerman is breaking his fucking arm and he doesn't have time to feel anything.

~~~

All in all, Max was having a pretty good day. He was pounding nerds to his heart's content, had Steph and her pet dweeb cowering at his mercy, and Grace Chasity finally realized just what she was missing out on. Which is why he is more than a little peeved when another fucking ghost shows up.

“Shitlips?” Max snarls, “ How you fuck did you get here? And what the fuck are you wearing?” Max woke up in the clothes he died in, but clearly Richie isn't bound by the same restriction. He's got green hair instead of blue and is wearing the $5 crown from last year's prom, but Max is 90% sure it's him.

“What did you just-” Shitlips hisses, then he stops and looks down at himself. “Oh. Will you look at that? I forgot what I was wearing.” He giggles, a wheezy, hitching laugh that Max has never heard from him before. A chill goes down Max's spine, and he feels uneasy in a way he hasn't since he woke up beside his dismembered corpse.

He thought originally that Shitlips was wearing one of his dorky cartoon outfits, the ones Max has pummeled him for wearing every Halloween since the 3rd grade, but looking at him, that seems less and less likely. He's pretty sure even Shitlips wouldn't shell out for contacts that made his eyes glow. That even with all those lame dances he's practiced in the cafeteria, he can't make his fingers bend like that .

“Shitlips?” He asks again, this time much more confused. What the fuck is happening?

“Actually, this is perfect,” the Lipschitz copy says with a grin, like Max hadn't spoken. “I can't imagine a better way to illustrate my point, Maxiepoo. You've been running around making quite the claims, haven't you? You said you were a god...” He pouts, and pats Max's head. “You don't know the meaning of the word.”

Max wrenches away from the touch. “I don't know what's gotten into you, but I beat your ass once, and I'll do it again!”

Max goes to punch him, but something grabs his hand. Fucking Flemwad , with gaudy glasses and long, highlighted hair, is holding him back. She has one hand clamped around his wrist, so tight his bones grind together. Max can feel bruises blooming under her hold. She giggles as he yanks against her hold. He had been able to easily throw her around the theater, like a toddler with a ragdoll. Now it feels like he's in the grip of a marble statue.

“What the fuck?” He moves to grab her with his other hand, but another hand clamps tight around him. Mayor Lauter isn't even looking at him, instead he is examining his fingernails.

Two more hands clamp around his ankles, and Max looks down to see the woman from the limo and the nerdy prude from the Waylon place, in blinding pink and neon yellow. They smile up at him with raucous, toothy grins. Their fingers burn where they touch him, so cold his skin cracks with neurotic black burns. Max thrashes, but he can feel their touch burrowing deep inside him, digging into the core of what he is now. 

He knows, instinctively, in a way that took the place of breathing, that there is a well of power in him. It keeps him moving, grows with every nerd he guts, propels him like a shark. It is everything he is.

And he can feel these... Monsters draining it.

“W-what are you?”

Richie Lipschitz grins with bright, manic eyes. He takes Max's chin between his fingers and forces Max to look at him. “Look at what you did to us, Maxie!”

Blood soaks Richie's front, turning the green sweater a dark red. Richie reaches down and tries to rub it away, but green fur sprouts on his skin from wherever the blood touches. Richie opens his mouth, screaming like he had when Max had first descended upon him, only water floods from his mouth. It keeps opening, wider and wider, until there is a crack and tentacles pour forth, thousands of them, squirming and writhing and lapping at Max's face and arms. 

He tries to lean away, but the tentacles push him to face Ruth Fleming. A spotlight illuminates her as the bottom half of her torso separates, where Max tore her in half. He remembers how her intestines fell out and he had laughed as they painted the stage. Now, eyes gush from the cavern in her abdomen, purple irises all locked on Max. They blink at him, blood and viscera eyelids his only reprieve from their stares.

There is a metal thunk, and Max turns to see a shovel embedded in Mayor Lauter's skull. With his free hand, he reaches up and tugs the tool loose. With a musical tinkling, shimmering blue shards fall from the wound and Max can see an endless black abyss inside of his head. Max can tell, intrinsically, that he is looking into the vastness of space, and that there are no stars, there are no planets, that he is entirely, singularly, alone. The two halves of Mayor Lauter’s face smile at him. Blue ooze swells up from the wound like crude oil from a well, and it dribbles down his front.

There is a wet splat, and warm, thick liquid splashes up Max's shin. A heavy weight rests against his shoe, and even before he looks down, Max knows the red headed woman's head is going to be staring blankly up at him. What he doesn't expect is the endless rows of serrated teeth lining the esophagus of her headless body. It leans forward and gnaws at his leg. Thick, viscous drool drips down his leg and even at a distance, Max can smell its breath reeking of rotten meat.

There is a sharp pain in his left foot. The man from the Waylon Place slams his head against Max's foot over and over, the same way Max had slammed his head into the rotting floorboards. His skull shattered the same way then, too. Only, instead of lying there, limp and gelatinous, the wet mess of flesh and brain sits up. It reaches a hand up to peel bits of skull away, like it is peeling a hard boiled egg, to reveal the bloody yellow head of a goat. It bleats at Max.

“W-what the actual fuck,” Max gasps.

The creatures laugh at him, wet and braying and metallic.

“Surely a god would understand,” the mass of tentacles coos. Bright, spotlight eyes illuminate Max, coating him in slimy green light.

The thing that never was Richie just smiles.

“You're in my world now, bitch!”

~~~

Peter takes a moment to gaze in amazement at where Max had been torn through a hole in reality. He turns to her, unable to keep the awe off his face.

“Holy shit, Grace! That was amazing!" She had saved his life. Was he indebted to Grace Chasity? Fuck, was he going to have to go to church with her now? He has no idea how he is going to explain that to Ted.

Grace looks up at him with a brilliant smile. Her shirt is still half untucked and there's grass in her mussed hair. Her lips are red and swollen and she looks the most relaxed Peter has ever seen her.

“My dad's dead,” she says brightly, and promptly bursts into tears.

“Oh shit,” Peter says frantically looking between her and Steph. Steph mouths “Do something!” at him while aggressively gesturing to Grace. Slowly, Peter reaches out and pats Grace's shoulder. “There, there...?” He trails off looking to Steph for approval. She facepalms.

She walks over to Grace, and sighs. “I still think you're fucking weird,” she says, but holds her arms open, “So this is a one time offer.”

Grace looks up from where she has her face pressed into hands. She blinks blearily at Steph, tears still cascading down her face. Then she staggers forward, falling into Steph's arms. Steph shakes with the force of Grace's sobs, tightening her hold on Grace as she screams into her chest. And then, almost impossibly, tears begin to trail down the lines of Steph's face. Slowly, first, then full hiccuping sobs. The two of them sink to the ground, fully weeping into each other's arms.

Peter doesn't know what to do, even more at a loss with two girls crying rather than just one. He swallows. Tears feel so far away. Everything feels so far away. He doesn't know how to comfort them or get them to stop or if he even should.

He kneels down, and places a hand on both their shoulders. He doesn't know what else to do.

He doesn’t know how long they sit there. Eventually, Grace and Steph catch their breath, panting and heaving under Peter’s arms, but they at least aren’t crying any longer. Peter waits for them to say something. They have planned every step of this excursion so far, and he is perfectly fine with being dragged along. But Steph and Grace don’t say anything. They just lean against each other. 

It’s cold. None of them had time to grab coats and the temperature has plummeted with the setting of the sun. Peter can feel the girls shivering. So he says it. 

“What do we do now?”

“I... I don't know. I don't even have anyone to call.” Steph says. “Miss Tessburger was my emergency contact if something ever happened to my dad, and...” Peter remembers the flare of red hair and the arc of blood that flew across the air. He swallows, fighting nausea at the memory of her severed throat.

Grace shakes her head as well. “I...” She stares blankly at her lap. She seems aimless, drifting aimlessly through the conversation. “I can't see my mom right now.”

So Peter ends up texting Ted. Peter doesn’t necessarily think this is the correct choice. His brother has been blowing up his phone all evening, with both texts and actual, honest to god voicemails. He is sure his message of “At the high school football field, please come get me” is not necessarily well received, given the way his phone immediately lights up with Ted’s face. Peter silences the call, and sends a thumbs up emoji when Ted texts “ill be ther in ten dont fuckin move”, and doesn’t really consider the implications of Ted showing up until his baby blue Stuedbaker pulls into the parking lot.

“PETER LORENZO SPANKOFFSKI!” Peter can hear Ted's screaming through the closed car windows. His brother steps out of the car, hands on his hips, keys jingling where they dangle in his hands. “Of all the times you decide to break curfew, it's when there's a fucking serial killer on the loose? And you couldn't even text me? I had to hear from Paul of all people that you nearly got arrested, at Beanie's of all places. You absolute noodle, I am going to-”

“Ted, it wasn't like that. We were just-”

“We?”

Peter can see the moment Ted realizes who is standing next to him. The anger drains from his face, and is replaced with a wide, smug grin. Oh no.

“Holy shit, are you out here with two girls ?” Jesus Christ. Peter is going to commit fratricide. 

“We weren't-”

“If you were otherwise occupied, you could have just said-”

“Ted, cut it out!”

“You were letting me fucking pace at home while you were out here getting it on with-”

“Ted, shut up !” Peter shouts, ignoring the way his voice cracks, shoving his arms down stiff at his sides with balled fists. His injured wrist screams at the movement, and he whimpers, clutching it back close to his chest. 

The others shout his name. Grace and Steph both come to his shoulders, looking over him. Ted about sprints to his side.

“What the hell happened, are you hurt?”

Ted looks at them, really looks at them. Peter knows they're a mess. Their clothes are torn from the shattered car windshield. Grace is still disheveled, with grass stains on her back and hickeys across her neck. Stephanie has eyeliner running down her cheeks and cuts on her face and arms from where they were running through the woods. Peter is drenched in sweat with dirt up and down his arms from digging up the black book. His wrist is swelling where Max grabbed it and Peter can already see the yellowing lines where his fingers dug into his skin.

“What the fuck happened to you, Pete?” 

“Please can we just go home?” Ted still looks hesitant and it almost breaks something in Peter. He just wants tonight to be over. “Please Teddy,” he begs. His voice cracks again and it's fucking embarrassing but he just wants to go home. 

Ted runs a hand through his hair but doesn't argue. “Yeah buddy, of course.” He wraps an arm around Peter’s shoulder, patting it once. “Let's go home.” Ted looks over Steph and Grace with awkward concern. “Do you, uh, need me to call your parents?”

“My dad's dead.”

“Mine too.”

Ted's eyes widen. “Oh. Um, I'm sorry. Are you sisters?”

“No.”

Ted's eyes get impossibly wider. “Okay then.”

~~~

The car ride home is awkward. No one speaks. Ted tries to turn on the radio, but Dan and Donna start reading out an APB for Grace and Peter slams his hand on the knob so hard he thinks he cracks it. Ted shoots Peter a flabbergasted look, but Peter just closes his eyes and leans his head back. If Ted ends up taking them to the police station, Peter at least wants a nap first. 

But when the car rolls to a stop, they’re in front of Ted’s dated ranch house. The sight of it almost brings Peter to tears. 

“Well, we’re here,” Ted says, as he puts the car into park. “Not exactly how I imagined Peter bringing a girl home.” The joke lands a pancake flipped onto the floor. “Okay, tough crowd. Come on, let’s get you all inside.”

They walk inside the front door, and Peter is immediately struck by the fact he and Ted haven’t cleaned in awhile. The sink is full of dishes, and an array of ties hang over the back of the couch from Ted yanking them off the moment he gets home. Crumbs cover the counters and Peter can’t remember the last time one of them vacuumed. Ruth and Richie were used to mess, so Peter hadn’t even thought... 

He swallows the lump in his throat.

“Steph, Grace, do you want to shower?” He suggests, desperate to have a moment to at least shove shit in a closet, “You can borrow some clothes.”

“That sounds really nice, actually,” Steph says, with a gratitude Peter isn’t sure he’s actually earned. Grace nods as well.

“Sure, do you have a swimsuit I can borrow?”

Peter balks at the question. “Um, I have trunks?”

She sighs, looking so despondent, Peter actually feels bad he can’t summon a bikini out of thin air. “I guess it doesn’t matter much now. That’ll work.”

Peter grabs a pair of swim trunks that are a little small on him, and sleep clothes for the two of them. He walks Grace to his shower, and shows Steph to Ted’s master. Once the door closes behind him, he collapses against the wall. The striped wallpaper is cool against his cheek, and he trails his fingers against the slick surface as he catches his breath.

This is fine. This is all fine. He is just having a sleepover. That is a normal high school thing to do. Nevermind the fact it is with Stephanie Lauter and Grace fucking Chasity, never mind that he’s never had a sleepover with anyone who wasn’t Ruth or Richie-

Peter slams the brakes on that thought. If he starts to think about them, or worse, their doppelgängers, he thinks he may completely lose it.

He walks back to the kitchen and finds Ted pulling a mug out of the microwave. “Oh, perfect timing!” He offers the mug to Peter. “I, uh, I made you a hot chocolate? I figured... your blood sugar.”

It's a good point. Peter hasn't thought about it all night, but he's pretty sure adrenaline is the only reason he hasn't fainted yet. But he hadn't mentioned that to Ted. His brother just... did it.

“Thanks,” Peter squeaks out. That damn lump is back in his throat.

The mug is warm. It feels nice in his hands. His fingers shake as he brings it to his lips. 

It’s fucking terrible. It's lukewarm, and not mixed properly so clumps of the mix coat Peter's tongue. But Ted made it for him. Tears well up in Peter's eyes and Ted begins panicking. 

“Oh Jesus, is it really that bad? Sorry, sorry, I swear I followed the instructions. We could go to- fuck, they're closed. Everything’s closed, shit. Oh!” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I'll call Paul, he's been smiling lately so I'm pretty sure that barista is staying over, we can get her to-

Despite himself, Peter giggles. “You cannot just call Paul at 3 AM to use his girlfriend.”

“She already hates me, there's no harm, really.” And the thing is, Peter really thinks he means it. That he would call his coworker at ass o'clock at night just to figure out how to make hot chocolate.

A sob bubbles up his throat. He sets the mug down and he throws himself at Ted. He nearly knocks him over. He's taller than Ted now, even if he's lankier. It feels wrong still, uncanny; a reflection in the mirror he doesn't recognize yet. But Ted's arms are still tight around him, still hold him as he shakes. He rubs circles across Peter's back.

“What the fuck happened, Pete?” he whispers. For a moment, Peter almost tells him everything. The Waylon Place, cutting up Max's body, the blood he can still feel under his fingernails. The Black Book, the blinding power that welled inside him, the gods wearing the faces of the dead.

But then he remembers the god in yellow, the way Mr. Chasity's face had licked his lips as he said Peter's last name.

He can see it, suddenly, with perfect clarity, like the image was beamed into his brain. Ted, with vibrant yellow hair and square pupils, holding that glowing yellow box. He can hear his brother's voice making that terrible bleating laugh. He can practically hear Tinky's voice. Isn't this a good look for Teddy Bear? Don't be jealous, I'll be sure you match!

Vomit wells in Peter's throat. No. He won't tell Ted. He'll keep his brother as far away from that bastard as possible.

Instead, he tells a half truth. “We fought the murderer. The person who killed Ruth and Richie.”

Ted sucks in a sharp breath. Despair, terror, and fury wage on his face. He takes a few deep breaths, and Peter can tell he is trying not to yell. Peter curls in on himself. 

“He... He tried to kill you?” Ted asks, and Peter nods. Ted hisses another pained breath. “Okay. Alright.” His voice breaks.

Peter... Peter can't remember the last time he saw his brother cry. There's a fuzzy memory in his head, of his fat toddler fingers patting Ted's wet cheeks, but it feels more like a dream than a memory.

But for as long as Peter can really remember, Ted never really cried when he got upset. He got mad, he yelled, but he didn't cry.

So Peter doesn't know how to react when tears well in his eyes

“Why didn't you call me?”

“I... I didn't want to get you involved.”

Ted glares at him, and jams his finger into Peter’s chest. “Fuck that. If it affects you, I'm involved, okay? So enough of these disappearing acts, of you just going completely radio silent. You want me to, what? Just stay awake all hours of the night wondering if you’re dead? Wait to get a call from the fucking coroner?”

Peter feels his eyes beginning to well with tears as well. “Of course not.”

“Then fucking call me, okay?” Ted shoves his shoulder, then ruffles Peter’s hair. “If shit is happening to you, I want to know about it. Okay?”

Not trusting his voice, Peter nods.

“Good.” Ted takes a drink of his hot chocolate. He promptly spits it back out. “Fuck that's terrible, what the fuck?”

Peter is still laughing when Grace and Steph get back from their showers.

~~~

Peter may not have thought the sleeping arrangements through. The three of them stand in a half circle around Peter's bed. Grace swims in a borrowed Hatchetfield high spirit week shirt and Steph has rolled up the ankles on sweatpants Peter stole from Ted.

“I... I can sleep on the floor?” Peter offers. His full bed should have more than enough room for Steph and Grace with him out of the equation.

“Peter, you are hiding us from the police, we are not going to kick you out of your bed,” Steph tells him. She grabs a pillow, and Peter realizes his sheets are nearly ten years old and have constellations on them. He is incredibly aware of the fact they are going to start glowing the second he hits the lights. He can feel himself blushing.

“I can go and sleep on the couch-” 

Peter's stomach twists at the thought of her being out of his sight. Before he can even say anything, Grace speaks up.

“I think we can all fit.”

Peter feels his jaw drop, but he can’t help it. “Um...” He stammers, “You know that this is gonna be really uh, tight, right?” Peter knows his bed can fit three people, he, Ruth, and Richie have absolutely fallen asleep watching movies in it. But usually they have to pile on top of each other like puppies, curled up in a tangle of limbs. He can’t imagine Grace Chasity of all people being comfortable with the thought.

But to his immense surprise, she just nods, and then crawls into the bed. Peter turns to Stephanie, because clearly Grace has been replaced with a body double. Steph just shrugs and crawls in after her. And well, Peter really doesn’t want to sleep on the floor. He hits the lights, ignores Steph’s delighted laugh at his childhood bed linens, and joins them.

He was right, it’s a tight fit. He is pressed tightly against Steph’s side, and still feels like he is going to fall off the bed. Steph opens her arm, and Peter gladly takes the invitation. He rests his head on her chest. She is warm and soft and smells like Ted’s vanilla body wash, and for the first time since they were called into the principal’s office, something in Peter unknots. He lets himself sink into her, curling closer when she wraps her arm around him. He involuntarily sighs, content and comfortable, and Steph rewards him by running her fingers through his hair. It promptly turns off all the thoughts in his head. “Holy shit,” he whispers, without really thinking.

“Like that?” Steph asks, and he can hear the smug smile in her voice, but he still nods all the same.

“Fuck yeah...” 

Part of him still expects Grace to kick up a fuss and tell them to leave room for Jesus or whatever the fuck she usually goes on about. But she is suspiciously silent. Peter is pretty sure he would be worried about it if Steph’s fingers weren't sapping up all of his brain power.

“Um, Grace, are you good?” Steph asks, and her fingers slow. Peter barely holds back a whine at the loss. “You are... pretty stiff.”

“Perfectly fine,” Grace says, sounding like she is having her fingernails ripped out. Steph sighs, sounding exasperated.

“If you are uncomfortable, we can make a pillow wall or something-”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” She doesn’t elaborate at first, staying quiet long enough that Steph begins playing with Peter’s hair again. He is nearly asleep when Grace says, “That just looks... really nice. That’s all.”

“Grace...” Steph says slowly, “Do you want to... cuddle?”

“Of course not! The wall is just digging into my back is all, and I figured, it would be an easier fit, if we were to get closer. Nothing untoward or anything.”

“Uh huh,” Steph says, breathing slowly, measured in a way that Peter has realized means she is holding back laughter. “That makes sense to me.”

“Right. So. Maybe, I could...” Grace doesn’t finish. Maybe she can’t. Peter feels Steph shift, offering her other side to Grace.

“Well? Get the fuck over here.”

Grace moves so quickly she almost headbutts Peter. “This is just for convenience, I hope that you know that.”

“Obviously,” Peter slurs, already slipping back toward sleep. 

“Of course, Grace,” Steph agrees, “Now get some sleep.”

Peter doesn’t need much more encouragement after the night they’ve had. Steph and Grace’s breathing is a soothing lullaby, only a shade different from the sounds of his usual sleepovers, and he easily slips into a doze. It takes a while, longer than it normally would, for the shaking to rouse him. He blinks blearily, trying to figure out just want the fuck is happening, when he registers the sniffling. It is muffled, like someone has clamped a hand over their mouth, but it is clearly crying.

Peter initially assumes it’s Steph with the way she is shaking, but her voice is clear when she asks “Grace, what’s wrong?” 

Grace doesn’t answer at first, can’t get past the tears. Peter and Steph don’t interrupt, they just wait until she says, “I had sex with Max,” and cries harder.

Steph doesn't seem to know what to say. After a moment, she asks, “And how do you feel about that?”

“It was... Good. It was really, really good. I liked it.” Grace sounds absolutely disgusted with herself. “This whole time, I have been trying to avoid these feelings and... I had sex. And it was great.” She clutches the pillow closer to her chest and sobs.

“Grace, I'm not following.”

“Don't you get it? I came up with the plan to get back at Max. I got us into the Waylon place. I killed Max. And he killed Richie and Ruth and...” She sniffles. Snot drips from her nose, and Peter grabs her a tissue from his nightstand. “And I could have... Just had sex with him and enjoyed it and maybe dated him and we could have protested homecoming together and now he's gone and none of it even matters because I gave up my virginity and we met five gods tonight and I don’t think any of them were Jesus.” She pauses for a moment, breaths heaving from the word vomit she just spewed. Then she lies back and stares at the ceiling. “My whole life has been pointless.”

“I can't say I get it,” Steph says, slowly. “Not in the same way. But like... My whole life has been dictated by my dad. Even when I went out and did what I wanted, it was stick it to him, you know? Prove he didn’t own me. And he was always calling me or having Miss Tessburger come and pick me up or... And now he's...” She swallows. “So what I'm trying to say is, I get what it is like to feel directionless.”

Peter thinks about his own life. About the absences in the room, about how his group thermodynamics project is now his sole responsibility, about the seats next to him that will be empty in every class.

“Maybe,” he says slowly, “we can find the point together.”

[marvelfanfics1]

Heard that you've been wanting for someone to send you brother!rafe, guess it's my time to shine

So brother!rafe has to babysit toddler!reader since their parents are out for the night and well basically he looks after her, feeding her and tucking her to bed <33

Or even, toddler!reader has a nightmare and won't go back to sleep so she finds comfort in her brother!rafe's room!!

Not So Annoying After All

Pairing: brother!rafe cameron x toddler!sister!reader

Warnings: some cussing (I mean it's rafe), nightmare, rafe being soft for his baby sister, just tooth-rotting fluff

A/n: why not do both!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

"Dad, seriously? Can't Sarah look after her?" Rafe groans. He just received the news he has babysitting duties this afternoon because his dad and Rose are going out after weeks of planning to have one night for themselves.

"No, she's with that Routledge boy and Wheezie is sleeping over at a friend's. I'm not asking much from you. Just keep an eye on her, give her dinner, and tuck her into bed. Alright?" Ward looks at him sternly, holding you on his hip and trying to keep ahold of you as you're trying to reach out for Rafe with grabby hands.

"Ugh, fine. I'll watch the little gremlin." He reluctantly agrees, reaching out to grab you under your armpits, hoisting you onto his hip and trying not to smile at the way you snuggle into him.

Ward thanks him, looking at his watch. "Okay, I don't know when we'll be back. Call me when something's wrong."

"Yeah, yeah. Have fun, I guess." He mutters, turning around and making his way to his room with you. He sets you down on his bed, looking down at you with his hands on his hips. "So...what do you do for fun?"

"Tea party!" You squeal but Rafe shakes his head immediately.

"Nah, no way I'm doin' that. Pick something else."

You think for a moment before replying. "I wike coloring."

"Okay, that's something I can work with." He helps you down from his bed, placing his hand on your head to steer you towards his door and to the stairs.

As he starts descending them he stops when he hears you whine, turning back to see you hesitating to set your foot on the first step. With a sigh he jogs back up, scooping you up. "Damn, the stairs are not gonna eat you y'know?"

He carries you into the living room, setting you back onto the ground and watching as you waddle over to the couch table, plopping down on the ground and trying to pull out the small drawer that had your coloring supplies in it but seem to struggle a little.

He walks over to you, squatting down and helping you with the drawer before standing back up straight. "I'll go to the kitchen real quick, stay here and- just don't do anything stupid."

In the kitchen her grabs your sippy from the cupboard, filling it with some apple juice, grabbing the package of those silly animal crackers you can't seem to get bored of.

Rafe joins you again, sitting down on the couch he places the sippy and crackers close to you, leaning back and crossing his arms. "I could be out drinking with Topper and Kelce right now..."

You ignore his complaints, holding a crayon out for him.

"Nah, I'm good." He says but you just keep holding the crayon out repeatedly. Reluctantly he groans and grabs the crayon from your small hand, scooting closer to the edge of the couch as you place a blank sheet of paper in front of him.

After coloring for a while you giggle, holding up the picture for him to see. He tilts his head a little, figuring out the two messily drawn stick figures who are probably supposed to hold hands. "Who's that supposed to be? You and dad?"

You shake your head with a frown. "Is us Rafey! Wook, this me and this you." You point out the two figures, holding the sheet up to his face again.

Rafe needs a moment to comprehend what you just said. You made a picture including him? You mostly draw about animals or whatever you currently like, for example that Bluey show you watch like- every day. He didn't expect you to draw you both together.

"Uh, that's- that's nice. You're a real artist huh?" He ruffles your hair a little, taking the picture from your outstretched hands. "Can I keep this?"

You nod quickly, smiling brightly. He smiles back at you, folding it and putting it in his pocket, looking at his watch.

"Alright, time for dinner. After that y'gonna take a bath and then go to bed. No whining and shit." He says and grabs the remote from the table, turning on the tv. "You can watch your show while I fix you up some dinner."

You clap with excitement as soon as you hear the familiar intro of Bluey, climbing onto the couch, your coloring completely forgotten.

Rafe decides on some chicken nuggets, easy and quick. He lets you eat in the living room, knowing you usually weren't allowed to eat on the couch and uses that to make you favorite him more than you already do.

It does trigger him a little the way your hands are full of ketchup but keeps his frustration down, knowing you can't do anything for it, being a toddler and all. As soon as you were finished he grabbed a tissue from the box that stood on the coffee table, wiping your face and hands quickly before you could wipe it on yourself or the white luxury couch.

He grabs the plate from your lap before picking you up, setting you on his hip as he walks into the kitchen to place the plate in the sink. After, he makes his way upstairs to the bathroom with you.

He sits you down on the toilet lid, starting the bathtub. "Wait here, I'm gonna grab you some pyjamas." He says, looking around and grabs one of the rubber ducks, handing it to you to keep you occupied until he comes back.

Rafe soon returns, seeing you move the duck on the edge of the sink, holding it up to him when he enters the room again. "Quack! Quack!"

He smiles, placing your clothes on the counter, stepping in front of you. "Alright, hands up, kiddo."

You lift your hands, letting him pull your shirt over your head. Before you know it you are in the bathtub with some toys, splashing a little with them.

While you are entertaining yourself Rafe starts to wash your hair, trying his best to not let soap get into your eyes as you're moving around. He uses his hands to pour water over your head to rinse out the shampoo.

"Can I go underwater now?" You ask, wiping some water from your eyes. "Wanna be a mermaid!"

"Sure. Go on, I'm done anyway." He rinses off his hands just as your head goes beneath the water but quickly come up again.

Soon you were finished with your bath, whining as Rafe combs your hair. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Before he puts on your pyjamas he grabs one of your nappies from under the sink. You're in potty training right now but still have to wear a nappy during the night just in case.

"So, since you're a big girl I bet you don't need me to read you to sleep...right?" He asks, hoping you would agree but he drops his head in defeat as you shake your head.

"No! You need to! Sarah usually does it." You tell him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to your room. You let go to rush over to the shelf, pointing up at the little section of books stacked up. "The gween book! S'my favorite!"

"A'ight, get on your bed." He waits for you to climb onto your pink princess bed, walking over to grab the book from the shelf and sits down on the edge of your small bed. He opens the book, coughing awkwardly. "Uh- ok...let's get this over with."

As he starts reading you get more comfortable, snuggling into your pillow and grabbing your teddy to cuddle with, listening intently.

You were already asleep after three pages but Rafe kept reading a while longer just to make sure before as slowly as possible standing up, praying you don't wake up again as he walks out of your room.

He sighs in relief after closing the door behind him. "Finally..." Now with you asleep in bed he could at least game for a while with the boys since they couldn't go party tonight.

Almost two hours later his door slowly opens and at first he is frustrated when you stand there but quickly takes his headset off when he sees tears rolling down your cheeks while holding onto your teddy tightly.

"Hey, hey, hey. C'mere." He waves you over, holding his arms out for you. You shuffle over to his bed, letting him hoist you up onto his lap and bury your face in his shirt. "What's wrong now?"

"Bad dream..." You sniffle, already feeling better just by him stroking your back.

"Ah, that sucks..." He waits a moment before continuing. "You- uhm, wanna stay here and watch me play for a while? Can't tell dad about this tho."

You nod and he moves you so you're facing the tv, kissing the top of your head. He grabs his head set again and you could hear the muffled voices of Topper and Kelce who are asking where the hell Rafe is.

"God damn, calm your asses down I'm back. So, change of plans, we gotta play something else. My sis is here and can hear you too so you idiots better watch yourself."

You giggle into your teddy as he talks to them, not seeing the smile on your brother's face. You're not so annoying after all.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity

[klldare]

Muses

Canon Muses

name: Barry age: 24-28 sexuality: bi occupation: pawn shop owner, mechanic, drug dealer, and every other shit job on the Outer Banks tribe: kook associate face claim: Nicholas Cirillo

name: JJ Maybank age: 18-24 sexuality: (closeted) gay (very selective romantic shipping) occupation: will take any shitty job to scrape by, mild kleptomaniac tribe: pogue 4 life face claim: Rudy Pankow

name: Rafe Cameron age: 19-26 sexuality: verse dependent (no new romantic ships) occupation: son and psychopath tribe: kook king face claim: Drew Starkey

name: Louisa “Wheezie” Cameron age: 18-22 occupation: the least favorite daughter, student with a new major every other week, tiktok influencer in the making tribe: kook face claim: Victoria Justice

Canon Muses from Other Media & Original Characters

name: Trevor Anderson originally from: Hellraiser (2020) age: 21-28 sexuality: no label background: eldest son of Ward Cameron and his late wife, grew up in Boston with the man he until recently believed to be his father, on the island to claim what rightfully belongs to him occupation: not disclosed tribe: kook by birthright face claim: Drew Starkey

name: Peter Rumancek originally from: Hemlock Grove age: 19-24 sexuality: pan background: Romani, ends up on the island by chance, human in this verse occupation: thief and con artist, occasionally taking low paid jobs tribe: free spirit, pogue associate face claim: Aaron Taylor-Johnson

name: Daniel Carter original character age: 36-40 sexuality: straight background: comes to the island when he learns that he has a daughter from his high school sweetheart character: caring and calm occupation: former college professor for ancient societies, now high school history teacher tribe: new kook face claim: Joshua Jackson

name: Autumn Winter original character age: 18-22 sexuality: demi background: moved to the island with her mother (Sheila Winter, fc. Katie Holmes) when she was a toddler, grew up in a hippie community, now lives on Figure Eight with her father (Daniel Carter) character: ambitious and aloof occupation: waitress and writer tribe: pogue turned kook face claim: Emilia Jones

name: Lincoln Alexander original character age: 30-35 sexuality: bi background: made a fortune in finance, building a luxury resort on the island, potential links to drug trade character: powerful and passionate occupation: investor tribe: kook face claim: Oliver Jackson-Cohen

name: Gunner originally from: Bates Motel age: 20-26 sexuality: pan background: kicked out by his stepfather the day he turned 18, just trying to chill character: kind and kinda pathetic occupation: whatever pays the rent tribe: pogue face claim: Keenan Tracey

name: Imogen Underwood original character age: 24-32 sexuality: bi background: older sister of Killian, aware of her privileged background she wants to use her influence to make a difference character: willful and wary occupation: law student/lawyer tribe: kook face claim: Imogen Poots

name: Killian Underwood original character age: 18-24 sexuality: straight (he says) background: youngest Underwood, an overprivileged kook with some secrets character: arrogant and assertive occupation: business student tribe: kook face claim: Gabriel Guevara

name: Natalie Scartoccio originally from: Yellowjackets age: 18-23 sexuality: pan background: just another trailer park girl occupation: shop assistant, waitress, babysitter tribe: pogue face claim: Sophie Thatcher

Please note: All my muses are works in progress.

Outer Banks verse only on this blog