#i wanna be burned with my security blanket if possible

[not-a-space-alien]

K&J x MMSS 4: Valen & Jim Part 11

Part eleven of the fourth crossover with @whumpsday!

Bam!!! Back to back!! Once again again an XL chapter because I couldn't find a good place for a chapter break. lol... You can clearly tell these were written as RPs 😅 Hope you enjoy!

K&J masterlist

MMSS masterlist

K&J x MMSS crossover masterlist

To be added to the taglist, contact @whumpsday

Warnings: Aftermath of torture

In this chapter:

***

The next day, Jim comes down when Liz is set to arrive soon. He feels a lot safer in the daytime, making breakfast for himself.  Valen follows behind.

The bookshelf is undisturbed. Jim says, "Liz is gonna be working on the basement, installing silver stuff on the door. Kane can come up here? I can't move that bookshelf."

"Sure, that sounds fine. Just so you know, I had Kane demonstrate yesterday how strong he is as of now, and he could barely lift twenty pounds. The bookshelf was far in excess. Maybe that will put you at ease. I'll probably have to go to vampire territory tonight to pick up more blood, but I won't leave until Liz has made things secure so that you feel safe with me out of the house."

He walks over to the bookshelf and lifts it bodily, books and all, effortlessly and sets it where it belongs. He unlocks the door and cracks it open. "Kane, are you awake?"

Kane pokes his head out from the blanket cocoon he's encased himself in. "Yes, sir. I mean- yes." It's the best night of sleep he's had in a very long time. Already, he looks a lot better, the burns on his face having healed significantly. "Am I... needed?" They said they wouldn't hurt him, he tries to remind himself, but it's hard to internalize.

"Jim wants you to come upstairs. His sister is coming over today and will need to be in the basement. Shall I help you come up?"

His sister must be Liz. The hunter. Great, just great. There's no way he's going to escape that encounter unscathed. At least he has blood now, so he'll heal fast, but he's still dreading it.

"I, I can handle it." Kane wraps one of the blankets around himself, shuffling up the stairs to meet Valen. "Is it okay if I take it with me?"

"Of course." Valen watches Kane come upstairs, then has him sit down on the couch, then pokes his head into the kitchen. "Jim, dear, Kane is in the living room. Come out when you're ready. What would you like us to do until Liz gets here?"

Jim comes out with a plate of peanut butter banana toast. "Uh, I dunno. She shouldn't be long. Hey, K-Kane." Jim isn't supposed to use his name. He's supposed to use Master. He hates that his voice wavers. "How'd you sleep."

Kane eyes him fearfully.  "Very well. Thank you." Kane is trying to be as polite as possible, extremely tense. "And yourself?"

"Good. Hey, relax. Still not gonna hurtcha." Jim reminds him.

"Yes. Thank you." Kane barely calms. The hunter is almost here.

"I figure I'll go out and buy some stuff for him at some point today, before you go for blood. Clothes and stuff." Jim tells Valen. "That okay?"

"Sure, that's a lovely idea.  And while you're out of the house, maybe Kane can help me with my research project, since we're out of real blood.  I finally have a second test subject."  He winks at Kane.

Kane's face falls even deeper into fear. "What?" he squeaks, clutching the blanket tighter around himself. "What- research project?"

"Oh dear," Valen says with a laugh.  "I just realized how that might have sounded if you don't know anything about it.  I'm working on trying to develop artificial blood.  So far I've been the only one around to drink it.  You can help me taste test it.  You needn't worry; the worst that will happen is we sit around drinking shots, and one of them happens to taste bad.  Obviously you don't have to if it makes you nervous."

Kane relaxes. That's the worst that can happen, and the best that can happen is he gets more blood. "Yes, I would love to. That sounds, that sounds wonderful. Thank you for including me."

"Aw, I wanna do fake blood shots." Jim whines. "Stupid toxic mushrooms."

There's a knock at the door, and Kane jolts like it's a gunshot, whimpering.

"She's not gonna hurt you." Jim assures him. "Liz's just gonna make the basement secure and get you some restraints that don't hurt. That's all."

Restraints that don't hurt sound good. Kane nods, sinking further into the couch as Jim answers the door.

Liz is wearing her hunting gear and a stormy expression, carrying a bag of vampire restraints in one hand and a bunch of silver under the other. She glares at Kane with burning hatred.

Kane shoots Valen a desperate, pleading look.

Valen comes over and stands next to Kane, reaching down and putting a comforting hand on his back.  "Liz, it's so good to see you.  Kane, this is Liz, Jim's sister.  She and I have been good friends for years.  Liz, there's something Kane would like to say to you."  Valen leans down and whispers very, very quietly into Kane's ear, such that only vampire hearing would let him hear, no eavesdropping.  "Apologize to her, and try to make it sound like you're not doing it just because you're afraid of her."  There's no way it's going to mollify even a fraction of Liz's anger at Kane, but Valen thinks that addressing the elephant in the room up-front might ease some of the tension that he's sure is going to happen.  And maybe, just maybe, if Kane is polite and deferential and sincere right off the bat, it will help Liz see that he's different.

Kane focuses on the grounding hand on his back. Valen has been safe, so far, and unbelievably kind. At the very least, he's a vampire too, and the least threatening of his new wardens. He hesitates a moment before timidly speaking up. "I'm s-sorry, ma'am. What I did to Jim was- was cruel, and I'm glad he's safe now."

Jim's eyebrows raise at the apology. Kane's said I'm sorry many times already, but this feels different somehow. It feels weird.

"I know that it was cruel." Liz snaps. Kane cringes back, expecting a blow that doesn't come.

"Liz, he's already really scared." Jim says. "Please?"

She sighs, putting the silver down and approaching with the bag. "Arms out."

Kane extends his shaking arms. Liz fastens padded cuffs onto his wrists, and similar with his ankles. "Don't touch the keys, they're silver." she tells Valen, her tone much softer with him.

She tosses the bag to Jim, containing the keys to the cuffs and one other mysterious item. Jim peers inside, then closes the bag again with a frown.

"Thank you, Liz," Valen says.  "I know you have every right to be upset with Kane, he's just simply trying to demonstrate he knows what he did was wrong and behaves differently now.  He has been a perfect gentleman so far, nothing like how he used to be.  It's very kind of you to come over to help Jim and not hurt Kane."  It's a thank you, but also a warning to back off, a reminder of how they'd said it would go.  "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help with the basement."

"I get it, okay? That is what I came over to do." Liz rubs her temples. She gives Jim a quick hug before grabbing the silver. "Thanks, Valen. For everything. But... I think you're the last person who could help with this." She does offer him a lukewarm smile before going to work on the door.

Valen wilts as soon as Liz turns her back, desperately hoping he hadn't made a huge mistake and made things worse.  "Of course," he says vaguely.

Kane relaxes a little once she's out of eyeshot. "Thank you." he murmurs.

Jim fishes the keys out of the bag, stuffs them in his pocket, and throws the bag and its remaining contents in the trash.

Valen comes over and gingerly picks it from the trash.  "Hold on, Jim, dear, it sounds like there's still something in there."

"It's trash." Jim insists, taking it out of Valen's hands and putting it back in the garbage. "I'm gonna put the keys upstairs and head out to shop while you and Kane do shots or whatever. Unless you want me to stick around?"

Valen stares at Jim, then averts his eyes.  "I thought it might be good for you to stay here while Liz is here also, but I think I can handle it if you'd rather not be here."

"Yeah, you're right, it can wait. 'S why I asked." Jim takes Valen's hand, threading his fingers through Valen's. "And seriously, just forget about the bag. It's nothing we'd ever use."

"Jim..." Valen says.  Surely Jim must know that Valen is going to open the bag to see what it is as soon as he gets an opportunity when Jim isn't around?

"It's a muzzle." Jim mumbles. "Like I said. Trash. Prolly just came with the cuffs from whoever Liz got them from, which was why she didn't try to put it on. I'm not putting that shit on him." As afraid as he is of Kane's bite, the memory of Valen in a muzzle still haunts him.

"I don't mind wearing a muzzle if, if it doesn't hurt." Kane says. "I'll be good. Won't resist."

But Valen's skin crawls at the thought of a muzzle.  He understands Jim's instinctual reaction to it.  He tries to hide the look on his face.  Objectively, a muzzle is not such a bad thing, if it won't hurt.  He nods, trying not to look shaken.  "All right.  If you don't think you'll need it, we can get rid of it.  Kane says he wouldn't even mind, I assume it's padded.  I don't think Kane will try to bite you anyway.  I just want you to feel safe."

"I don't want it in our house." Jim cups Valen's face, running his thumb over Valen’s cheek. Soft skin that was locked behind a muzzle for three days during horrible trauma. "I'd feel safer with it gone."

Kane modestly averts his eyes.

Valen nods.  "I-I would also feel safer with it gone.  Thank you."

Valen takes Jim's hand and goes over to Liz, examining what she's doing curiously.  "So, Liz, what all are you planning to do while you're here?"

Liz has already replaced the door's hinges with silver, and is now installing a flat silver grating over it. "Just silverin' up this door. Obviously don't touch any of this, or wear gloves if you gotta. Assume that touching any metal within a foot of the door isn't fun. Gonna put a deadbolt on the outside next. All that should definitely be able to hold him. But both of you keep in mind it'll also hold anyone, human or vampire, so don't get stuck down there."

"Good to know." Jim says quietly. The idea of a prison inside his home makes him feel hollow. It reminds him uncomfortably of the human quarters back at Kane's.

Valen, by contrast, seems fine with this.  "Thank you, Liz."  He walks over and sits on the couch next to Kane.  "How are you doing?" he says quietly.

Jim talks with Liz for a bit, their conversation consisting of Jim chewing her out a bit for bringing a muzzle, Liz confirming what Jim thought about it just coming with the set, Jim asking where she got those anyway, and Liz saying she knows a hunter who did a hostage exchange once.

"I'm okay. Good." Kane confirms. "The cuffs don't hurt. I'm fed. I'm healing. You p-protected me from the hunter. Thank you. I'm... I'm actually okay." He's still scared, his fate uncertain, but he knows his life has at least had a major step up. 

"Good," Valen says, patting his knee.

"Um, can I ask... what did people say about me? After I was assumed dead, as I'm sure I was?"

"Um, unfortunately I don't really know.  I pretty much isolated myself from any other vampires a long time ago.  I moved out here to be with Jim not long after the last time we saw each other, and I don't keep in touch with my family."

"Oh. I see." That would have been years before Kane was captured, then. He hadn't even heard about Valen running off to human territory. It's scary how someone could just...disappear, and no one cares. He wonders if anyone cared when he did.

Suddenly, he smiles wryly. "He was still in your apartment, wasn't he. When I came by. I'm just realizing that."

Valen smiles, half-embarrassed, half amused.  "Yes, he was cowering at the bottom of my bedroom closet.  I've never been a good liar, so I was terrified you'd see through it.  At the time I was nervous I wouldn't be able to fight you off if you didn't believe me and decided to shove your way in and look around."

The implications aren't lost on Kane. If Valen hadn't done what he did, Kane never would have gone through this horrible mess. But it's an incidental consequence, not a purposeful one. He didn't even get captured until five years later.

And he really did plan on crushing Jim's ankles if he found him. And Jim doesn't deserve that.

"I'm glad you got him out. Thank you." Kane says.

"The poor thing was on the brink of death out in the wild," Valen says sadly.  "I couldn't just leave him there."  He wrings his hands.  "I'm glad you think this way, now, I was afraid when we came to get you that you'd--you'd be even angrier, and more violent."

Kane imagines, for a moment, a world in which he'd found Jim's corpse out there in the woods. He'd still have gone for a second human, probably in the same timeframe, and still been captured by the hunters. Except this time, there would be no Jim to save him and take him away. It would be forever. Neither one of them would have a happy ending. He's more thankful than ever for Valen.

"I've been subject to the other side. I couldn't possibly go on with my stupid fucking- s-sorry. I don't mean to be impolite." he says nervously, hoping that doesn't count. Just be polite, and you'll be fine. "With my views."

Valen smiles and pats his hand.  "You're all right.  Still, I'm very glad, it's making this all a lot easier.  I think in the long run this might be better for Jim's healing, too.  To stop thinking of you as some bogeyman that could swoop in to take him at any time."

Jim comes on over, only catching the last bit. "Yeah, not so much of a bogeyman now. So, shots? I can grab some cranberry juice and play along."

Kane perks up. He's going to get more blood, even if it's 'artificial'. He's never heard of anything like it, but he very much likes blood.

"Jim, dear, are you sure you don't want to wait until Liz leaves?" He hesitates, then more quietly: "And are you sure you want to see Kane feeding?"

"It's not like- it's just the mushroom stuff, out of a cup, right? No, like, biting anything?" Jim clarifies. "If I chicken out, I'll just slink off. We can wait if you wanna, though, and you can do it while I'm out. Doesn't matter."

"Yes. Okay, that sounds good. I do think we should wait until Liz is gone, though." No sense doing anything risky if they didn't need to, and having Kane do anything other than the absolute bare minimum to get through interacting with Liz is definitely risky

Kane is glad for the stalling. Drinking blood is bad behavior, and he doesn't want to do it in front of the huntress, even if it's not real blood and he has permission.

Jim puts the TV on for a bit. It's about 40 minutes until Liz is done. "Alright, that should do it." she announces. "If we really wanna test it, Valen can put some gloves on and give it a good knocking, but I get that might be uncomfortable and I'm confident it'll hold."

"I'm certainly willing to do that, but I'm confident in your work, Liz. Jim, up to you."

"If... you're really sure it's okay, could we maybe test it?" Jim asks sheepishly, embarrassed of his fear. "Just to make sure."

Kane wants to insist that he won't try to escape, but that could be taken as him wanting to leave the basement less-secured, and he doesn't want to imply anything like that, especially in front of the hunter.

"Of course! It'll be a fun activity."

Valen dons his protective gear, the things he uses to go out during the day, to be absolutely certain he won't touch any of the silver. He then has them lock him in the basement and bodily slams the door multiple times, demonstrating that even a full frontal assault with a running start from a healthy vampire is not enough to break it down.

Kane watches with wide eyes, listening to the pap-pap-pap-BOOM of Valen running into the door. He wasn't planning to escape anyway, he's behaving, and it's been good here so far, but the demonstration of just how trapped and helpless he is makes him feel small. He looks down at his feet, trembling a bit.

Jim unlocks the door. "Thanks, Vale. Think that about covers it."

Valen had, truthfully, enjoyed the activity just as he'd said. It'd been ages since he'd had any reason to unleash his full strength. He is panting a little when he comes out. "You're quite welcome." He catches sight of Kane. "I'm sure this is far in excess of what's actually necessary, considering Kane isn't going to try anything like what I just did, but I'm happy it will make you feel more secure."

Valen looks so hot, panting when he takes his mask off. Jim would eagerly comment on it if the other company in the room weren't his sister and Kane. "Yeah. Super secure."

"I'll leave you guys to it, then. You know I'm always a phone call away." Liz gives Jim a hug, and Valen a hug, and goes to leave. Before she does, she hesitates at the door before stomping over to Kane.

"Hurt my brother ever again and you are done." she snarls. "Are we understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Kane says, cowering away from her.

"Thank you, Liz," Valen says dryly. "Drive safely."  Jim is similarly displeased with Liz's choice, even if he's glad for the protectiveness.

Valen watches Liz depart, and then turns to Kane. "You did very well, thank you for staying calm." 

"C-calm." Kane agrees shakily. He's relieved he's done well, at least.

Valen grins at Jim. "Drinks now, then?"

"Hell yes. I'm getting my c-berry." Jim heads into the kitchen.

"One moment, Jim, I have a great idea that will make this fun for you as well!"

Valen runs into the kitchen and mixes some shots of various kinds of alcohol, with red food dye, in with Jim's cranberry juice shots. He also makes Jim look away to keep it secret and adds a few prank shots, like straight pickle juice, vinegar, dredges of food leftovers that he's seen the human dump down the drain to discard, anything that's safe to ingest but strong in taste and can be passably disguised as cranberry juice. He also adds one shot that's the formula for artificial blood without the parts that would hurt Jim--he imagines it will just taste really salty, but he knows Jim will be delighted to taste a safe version of it.

He then pours little sample cups of his various concoctions, paired so that he and Kane will always be drinking the same one. He's had years to work on it at this point, and while it's certainly not real blood, not even as good as the imported stuff, it's much more tolerable than it had been in the early stages. He's currently working on trying to replicate the specific tastes of various blood types. He is getting closer to being ready to do something with it, although he's still not quite sure what his plan of attack for actually launching it will be, now that he's burned his bridges with the country's biggest distributor of blood.

Valen comes out with the shots, all labeled with some scribbles only decipherable to himself. "Okay, Kane, we're testing which of these taste best, which of them are stinkers, and as a bonus let's label each as to what blood type they taste most like."

"Haha, oh man. This is great." Jim laughs. "This is so cute. I'm so freakin' excited."

Kane eyes the not-blood curiously. It doesn't smell like blood, but it looks like blood. He hopes it sits in his stomach and sates hunger like blood. "Okay! This is... I've never seen anything like this."

Jim grabs the human-safe artificial blood first, the only one visually distinguishable from his cranberry shots. Kane grabs the shot opposite the one Valen grabs.

"Cheers!" Jim exclaims.

Valen clinks his glass against Jim's, then Kane's, then tosses the shot back.

All three of them make faces like they'd just tasted something bad. The first cup of artificial blood was definitely a bad one.

"Um," Valen says, smacking his lips. "Hm, I'm marking this one down as a no.”

It definitely tastes bad, but it really is blood, almost. Kane licks the remnants from the inside of the shot. "It's okay. I don't hate it." he decides. How could he hate something that would sate hunger? Just yesterday, he would have licked this off the floor and been grateful.

"I'll write it down that a starving man finds it tolerable."

"Ugh." is Jim's only comment on his own drink.

Valen grabs the next shot glass and downs it. He licks his lips. "Mmm.  Oh, this one is pretty good. I'd say it's AB positive.”

Kane agrees. "AB positive, yes. This is good." But maybe his standards are low, like Valen said.

Jim gets pickle juice, his face scrunching up again. "Pickle."

The next one, Jim gets a nice cranberry vodka shot. "Now this is a shot. Finally." he says with a smile.

"B negative. Really good." Kane says immediately after drinking his.

The smile drops off Jim's face and he looks away. After seeing Jim's reaction, Kane's mood similarly seems to drop as he shrinks back.

"Ah," Valen says. B negative is, in fact, Jim's blood type.  He discreetly makes a few notes in the ensuing awkward silence.  "Shall we take a break, then?"

"S-sorry." Kane says quietly.

"Nah, s'all good. You were doing exactly what Valen asked you to do." Jim takes another shot. "Bleh. Pickles." He motions for Valen and Kane to continue.

Valen wordlessly slides his notebook and pencil over to Kane, so he can directly write down what blood type he thinks they are, so as to avoid a repeat of what just happened.

The next blood shot is a whole lot of nothing. It doesn't taste bad, but it doesn't taste good either

They go through all of them like this. Jim is pretty giggly by the end, the B negative shot forgotten. Kane looks at him strangely.

"He never let me driiink." Jim complains to Valen. "Said it'd taste bad, in my blood. Boo. No fun."

Kane's experiences with humans and alcohol have been very different up until now, due to selection bias: the only hunters who would bother visiting him drunk were the ones who wanted something to hurt. He's never seen a reaction like this before.

"Oh, Jim," Valen says, giggling and giving him a smooch. "You're so cute when you're drunk. You can have all the fun you want now. Oh!" Valen goes red. "I-I forgot that you were supposed to drive to the store after this!”

"Well that's not happening. Don't wanna go to the stupid store anyway. Wanna stay here with you." Jim nuzzles into Valen's shoulder. "We got clothes here. It can wait a day. C'you wait a day, Kane?"

"Yes. I, I can wait. Thank you for going at all." Kane agrees.

"See? All fine." Jim says happily.

Valen decides to also put off leaving the house to go get blood until Jim is sober, imagining it wouldn't go well for Jim to be drunk alone with Kane, or to wake up alone with Kane in the house.  They have the artificial stuff to tide them over, which is in fact the whole point of making it.

After they're done drinking, Valen insists that Jim "makes" Kane watch Jim's favorite movie.  After it seems like Jim's had enough of being conscious on this mortal coil, Valen takes him upstairs and puts him to bed, then comes down to put Kane in the basement.

He apologetically asks him to go downstairs, and asks if he'd like anything to keep himself entertained.

"...Music?" Kane asks. "If, if it's convenient. I don't need anything. Thank you for the blood."

"Of course!"

Valen comes down with a radio, as well as some notebooks and pencils, which Kane didn't ask for, but Valen suggests to him to keep a journal, as Valen has found it good for his mental health.  He also brings down books and extra pillows and blankets, adding them to the outrageously large pile of blankets already on Kane's bed, because he thinks it's just so dreadfully cold down here.

"I'll see about getting us some real blood soon," Valen says on his way up the stairs.  "Sleep well."

"Thank you. So much, for everything. You too." Kane says with a small smile. For the first time in a very long time, he's actually hopeful about the future.

Valen locks the door, then goes upstairs to the very drunk and sleepy Jim, barricading the bedroom door once again and crawling up beside Jim.  "How are you, my dear Jim?"

"Good. Sleepy. M'not even scared." Jim proclaims proudly. "Valen. Guess what. I love you sooooo much."

Valen's face splits in a smile so big it hurts his face.  "Awww.  Well guess what.  I love you more!"

Jim breaks into a gigantic smile. "Yaaaaaay." He buries his face in Valen.

Valen strokes the nape of Jim's neck as they both fall asleep.

***

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[lovelybarnes]

get the girl- p. parker

pairings: peter parker x reader, mentions of ned, betty, mj, and brad warnings: unrequited love (kind of?? implied), lotsss of pining and fluff, a little long about: requested! (DF4) “you fell asleep, i couldn’t move.“ + (DF31) “maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance.” a/n: been wanting to write a peter parker friends to lovers for a while, so thank you so so much for requesting this. i swear i don’t usually take this long?? i got carried away and it got way longer than i expected, i hope you enjoy! thank you for requesting!

peter thinks it’s hopeless. the cliche he’s stuck in seems cruel- no matter what the movies you (and, fine, yes, him sometimes) make him watch say. nothing that happens in them ever transpires to real life; beautiful girls don’t fall in love with their nerdy best friends and guys like peter parker don’t get the girl.

it’s fun to fantasize, though. and especially fun to look at you, particularly when you’re laying on his bed, oblivious to him standing in the doorway, observing as you twist your neck to get a good look at the polaroids he hung up on his wall. a familiar smile grows on your face when your eyes scan them, flickering to the polaroid camera you got him for christmas years ago.

you move to try to get a better look at them without standing up, glancing down when you feel a sharp edge poke at your skin. he watches as your eyebrows furrow in possibly the prettiest way possible and you pull out a polaroid from under you. and oh, peter is just now realizing exactly what that photo is and why it’s on his bed instead of hanging off the empty miniature clothespin that comes from the pack you thrust at his chest when you noticed the increasing pile of pictures on his desk.

he’s moving on autopilot towards you, the foot already halfway through the door used as a stepping stone to go to your side faster. he’s with you in less than three steps, tugging on your ankle and then tackling you as sensibly as possible, laying his whole body on yours. you oof, dropping the picture, having seen it for too little to really question it, and laugh breathlessly. “pete!” you wheeze, curling your arms around his back, one of your hands absentmindedly drawing figures through his hoodie and your other one inching up to his hair, already beginning to thread through the chocolate curls. “yes?” he hums innocently, furtively grabbing the polaroid you dropped and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie before his arms wrap around your thighs.

“i told you if you keep doing that, one day you’re gonna get hurt,” you scold, looking attentively as peter leans his head against your chest. “me?” he questions, feeling you nod under his cheek. “uh huh, you. you’ll hit your head or something. for a spider-”

“spiderman. superhero,” peter corrects, you ignore him, “you are really clumsy.” peter huffs in dissent, letting a comfortable silence blanket over the both of you for a minute before he looks up at you. “what?” you ask, a smile brimming at the edges of your words. you’re so pretty, peter wants to say, but instead, he goes with a more best-friend-friendly question, “d’you wanna watch a movie?”

you nod at him, pulling your hands away from his head to play with the strings of his hoodie, “sure, what do we want to watch today?” peter’s eyes immediately light up, and you realize you never actually needed to ask. “fine,” you agree, trying not to grin too hard at the way his face brightens. “which one?” you request, watching his freckled cheeks flush pink in excitement, “sixth one. the best one, of course.” you smirk, shrugging, “right, don’t know why i asked, i basically know the movie word for word now.” peter can’t help but give you heart eyes at the knowledge of your knowing the script of his favorite movie. god, you really were the dream girl.

“‘kay, go make some popcorn and get everything ready while i go to the bathroom,” you request, tapping peter’s shoulder as a way to tell peter to let you out from under his body weight. he does the complete opposite of what you imply, however, nuzzling further into your chest and inhaling deeply. “peter,” you laugh, poking his shoulder again, “‘m comfy,” he mumbles, eyes closed. “pete, c’mon, i gotta pee and you’re lying on my bladder,” you whine, “also, don’t you wanna watch episode six of star wars while i eat popcorn and play with your hair?” you singsong. he’s suddenly moving his body off of yours to let you go, although not before pressing a sloppy- friendly- kiss to your arm, “hurry up.”

you giggle as you stand, stretching out your limbs and walking to the bathroom while peter watches you walk away. once he hears the bathroom door shut, he digs his hands into his pockets, fingers tugging on the polaroid he had shoved inside. a smile grows on his face without his permission when he holds it at his stomach, the light reflecting off of the smile that was printed on the picture. he traces a nail over your face, bright and open in the way that makes you gleam. it’s his favorite picture ever, the only one that managed to catch you so in your element, your natural halo of glow apparent in your outline. peter had scrawled the words best girl in red marker on the white space at the bottom- something he thought he could explain away easily if he had to. the picture had its own designated space on his wall, right in the middle so the importance was clear, but it was rarely actually up there, instead always next to him for inspiration when he was doing homework and on his dresser for when he couldn't sleep.

his lips quirk one last time at the photograph before walking to the wall where all the rest of them reside. he hangs it up, glancing at it once more until he turns to walk out of his room.

the movie is ready to play when you walk into the living room, and peter is in the kitchen making your popcorn. “it smells good,” you say in a greeting, sniffing the air and exhaling in satisfaction. peter laughs, “you do that every time we have a movie night.” you tilt your head at him, “do what?” he motions to you, “that. the whole smelling thing and letting me know how good it smells, it’s cute.”

your face heats when it slips out of his lips, pausing to absorb the words he doesn’t seem to have noticed he said. his back is to you, dumping the popcorn into a bowl for you. you can’t see it, but he’s freaking out, trying to think of an excuse if you decide it was too weird. you don’t do anything to imply that, though, just blink until the words dissolve in the air. “thanks,” you finally reply, as nonchalant as you can make it while you grab his m&ms. he hums in response, turning around to head to the couch, “star wars time,” he winks, making you grin.

you follow him as he heads to the couch, settling down next to him once he puts on the movie. the star wars theme starts, the tune fringed by peter’s humming. cute, you think, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm and shoving popcorn into your mouth. “hmm, good,” you compliment, watching the scenes you’d seen so many times pass on the screens. you mouth along when you recognize the lines until your eyes feel heavy and they shut completely.

-

quiet thwips wake you up hours later, when the black of the night has bled the sky blue and the stars have littered over the clouds, the moon replacing the sun. you see that the movie is long over when you blink yourself awake, beginning to cuddle deeper into your pillow when you realize it’s too warm and hard to be a pillow. you are met with the vision of your best friend, lip tugged in between his teeth as he concentrates on something behind you. he doesn’t seem to notice that you’re awake, trying to remain as still as possibly while the thwip noises continue. he mutters a curse, scrunching his nose adorably before flicking his eyes to you. they widen when he notices you’re awake, dropping his hand. “what’re you doing?” you yawn, sitting up and away from the warmth of peter’s embrace. “uh- i just- the movie ended and you didn’t wake up, so i tried to get the remote, then i got hungry…” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, scanning the room and you turn to observe, stunned to see the mess of webs and dropped items you weren’t sure how you didn’t hear. “oh my god, what the- did you try to get everything with your webs?” you ask in bewilderment, eyeing a bag of gummy worms open and on the floor, you snap your neck towards him to observe his burning cheeks. “um. yes,” he confesses, blushing harder. “why didn’t you just get up?” you question, looking back at the ruined living room, exhaling in surprise as you notice the remote on the ground.

“you... you fell asleep on me. i couldn’t move.”

you pause, tilting your head slightly to look at peter, “pete, god, that’s so sweet. but you really don’t need to…” you motion to the dropped items, “do all that,” you laugh. peter shrugs, and you notice the tips of his ears are red, too. “i didn’t want to wake you up. i know how much of a light sleeper you are.”

you feel like you’re melting, every single muscle in your body drooping in the loveliness that was peter parker. you weren’t sure how the boy was real. you suddenly drop yourself on him again, wrapping your arms around his burning neck, “thank you, peter,” you say into his skin. like a reflex, his own arms go around your waist, holding you securely so you won’t fall, “‘f course.”

a moment of quiet follows until peter’s stomach rumbles suddenly, making you laugh, “i think i’ve starved you long enough. you pick today. also, when did you get so ripped? your arms are so big--” peter cuts you off with a groan, dropping his head on your shoulder, “you had to ruin the moment--”

-

peter doesn’t know what it is with you (actually, he does) that makes you so distracting. you’re just waiting in line for lunch, standing next to mj and laughing occasionally when she says something. all you’re doing is standing, and maybe it’s peter’s boy-hormones combined with his spider-hormones that magnify every single perfect feature of yours, but he can’t take his eyes off of you. you’re so pretty. the curve of the smiles that pulls into your cheeks, the twinkle that remains permanent in the color of your eyes, the way you look in that skirt--

“maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” a voice points out from next to him. peter scoffs, ripping his sight away from you to turn to ned. “i talk to her all the time. she’s my best friend.” ned shakes his head and sighs, “you talk to her about star wars, you talk to me about star wars, how is that supposed to help you have a chance--”

“i have a chance,” peter mumbles, trying to believe it himself, “she knows that she and you stand at different levels of best friends--” ned looks offended, “different levels? what is that supposed to mean--” peter stares exasperatedly at his best friend, “it means i want to date her and i don’t want to date you--”

“that’s a little rude--”

“hey you guys,” you greet, sitting down on the seat in front of peter’s and patting the seat next to you for mj. she stares at you silently, and you frown, patting the seat harder, “sit.” you instruct. she sighs and does what she’s told. “what were you guys talking about?” you ask, picking up your small plate of cherry pie to replace the bowl of orange slices that you took from peter’s plate. “thank you,” peter mumbles, digging his fork into the pie the moment you set it down. you hum, stealing a cherry tomato from his salad.

“oh, you know. the usual, your friendship with peter,” the latter shoots him a look and you raise an eyebrow, “that’s the usual? a little strange, don’t you think?” ned shrugs, “did you know that you and i stand at ‘different levels’ as peter’s best friends?” peter nearly chokes on his pie, glaring at ned. you cock your head at peter, thinking as you steal another tomato, “i… guess i thought so? i’ve known peter since, like, preschool, and we tell each other everything.”

“everything, huh?” ned wonders, a sound of pain falling from his lips when peter kicks him under the table. “peter.” he hisses. mj narrows her eyes at the two boys, “what is going on with you guys today? you’re acting weirder than normal.” peter’s face screws up in confusion, looking to you for help. you shrug, “she’s right.”

“i usually am,” mj mutters.

“so what is it?” you query, popping an orange slice as peter cringes at the mere thought of the taste. “peter has a crush,” ned informs helpfully, oblivious to peter’s dismay, “i- i don’t-”

you blink, feeling mj’s elbow shove into your ribs as her own way to make sure you’re okay. you ignore her, and it tells her everything she needs to know. “it’s liz, right?” you guess, trying to mask the hurt on your face with a teasing smile, “i saw you looking at her the other day. she’s pretty.” “no! it’s not- i mean, yes, liz is pretty, but i don’t like her or anything- ned doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” peter rambles. “pete, you don’t have to be embarrassed, i’m just upset you didn’t tell me,” you lie. peter’s eyebrows furrow, “you’re just upset that… i didn’t tell you?” he repeats. you nod, biting into another orange slice. “just that?” he asks meekly. you cock your head at him.

“i just- never mind. it’s not liz,” he says, poking at his pie. “so you admit you have a crush?” you start with a fake smirk, jabbing at your best friend with your fork, “just not on liz?”

“i didn’t… i didn’t say that-” peter stutters. your eyes narrow at him, lip tugged between your teeth, “i’m gonna find out who it is by the end of the day.”

peter is unfortunately sure you will. he’s not subtle as is, but you’re never deliberately looking for the signs, which makes it a lot easier to hide his embarrassingly large crush on you. but now, you'll be paying attention to his every move, and knowing you, he knows you won’t stop until you find out what you want, unless he tells you to back off. but, does he want you to back off?

he pushes his tray away, suddenly not feeling so hungry.

-

you stay true to your promise, hanging off his arm for the rest of the day, observing the way he acts around some of your classmates, but somehow not noticing the way he blatantly refuses to look at you- which proves humiliatingly difficult; peter never realized exactly how much he turned to look if you laughed at the joke too, or to catch one of your smiles when you hear something funny or peter whispers a joke into the shell of your ear.

by the end of the day when you’re walking to the train station together, you’re groaning at him, putting your full weight on his arm as you tug at him. “who is it? is it betty? oh my god, is it mj? is that why you kept looking at her?” you ask excitedly. peter wants to tell you the truth: he wasn’t looking at mj, he was looking at you, because as much as he tried, he couldn’t pry his attention off of you, who just so happened to sit next to mj.

“not mj. not betty,” he replies, pulling you inside the subway and scanning for free seats. you trail behind him when he finds a spot, letting you take it as he stands in front of you. “not them… it has to be liz, right?” you pry, sighing when he shakes his head. “brad- it’s brad, right?” you grin, whining when he denies it again. “can you just tell me if i got them already? i’ve practically said everyone in the school,” you complain, “they do go to school with us, right?” at peter’s nod, you drop your head against his abdomen, “and you have not said their name yet.”

“peter,” you drag out, reaching out for his hand to pull it, “just tell me! i can probably set you up with them!”

“y/n, just drop it,” he sighs, and you sigh too, mumbling a fine before noticing an older lady standing at the door. you wave her over, standing next to peter and letting her take your seat. peter feels like his heart will pop out of his chest.

the bumps of the subway push you close enough to him to feel the thundering of his heart, and your eyebrows knit together in worry, “are you okay? your heart’s beating, like, really fast-” yeah and your hand on my chest is not helping- “‘m fine.”

“is it because of the crush thing?” yes, “because i’m sorry about annoying you about it so much, if you don’t want to talk about it, i won’t bother you with it. just know that if they don’t like you back, they’re insane, because you, peter parker, are a ca-”

it was like a rubber band snapping, and peter suddenly couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his lips against yours, effectively cutting you off and catching you so off-guard, you freeze for a second before reacting, pulling his jaw closer. you almost tug him back when he pulls away, before you remember you’re still standing on a crowded, moving subway, and while kissing your best friend had been all you wanted for way too long, you were absolutely going to miss your stop if you didn’t stop.

“i- i’m sorry, i just-” peter stammered, stepping back. “no! so, please don’t apologize, seriously, it’s fine, it’s, like, better than fine.”

a beat of awkward silence passed before the tube halted to the stop right before yours. “it’s you. in case that didn’t… come clear. you’re the person i like,” peter informs quietly. “really?” you ask, cheek already pulling in a shy smile. “really,” peter assures.

this time, you don’t really care if you miss your stop, and neither does peter, now that he knows that, sometimes, peter parker does get the girl.

#friends to lovers #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader fluff #fluffy peter parker fic #fluffy peter parker #fluffy peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluffy fanfic #peter parker fluffy imagine #peter parker fluffy fanfiction #peter parker fic fluff #peter parker fanfiction fluffy #peter parker fanfiction fluff #peter parker friends to lovers #friends to lover peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x female!reader

[seriesxwriting]

I’m gonna end up in prison anyway.

JJ maybank x you! <3

JJ is upset about jhon B being in prison and takes it out on you… but JJ soon realises he’s in the wrong and apologises confessing his love for you at the same time <3.

Warnings- kissing and swearing. I think that’s it.

Also just wanna say that I know all my writing has been outer banks characters but more characters are coming soon I promise. I’m just obsessed with this show at the moment :)

“JJ your an idiot!” I yelled at him once he’d climbed in to the speeding car explaining what he had tried to do. “well I’m going to end up in jail anyway so who fucking cares” JJ ran his fingers through his blonde hair avoiding eye contact with me sitting tight in the seat next to him.

“I fucking care JJ” I mimicked him in a calmer tone.

He looked at me still panting from the run “you alright?” Pope eyed his best in the mirror from the front seat. “Just a shit day” he inhaled and exhaled loudly turning his whole body away from me and staring out the window.

What the fuck was he thinking trying to bust jhon B out with that plan! We needed to prove his innocents not go on the run again.

Ki drove us back to where we were staying in silence. Her and pope went off in to the night talking about some random stuff, giggling some might say flirting. “y/n” he called out when I was walking away from the car minding my own business “what”.

JJ came around to my side climbing out of the white suit he was dressed in tying it around his torso.

“You still mad?”

“I’m not even mad JJ I’m -just worried” I stuttered trying to think of the right words so I would give him any clues to how I really felt about the boy.

“John B is in prison! I needed to do something It’s him you should be worried about” “I am! But I’m worried about you as well your acting like an idiot your not going to prison JJ so stop blaming all your shit on that, it’s not down to you we’re all doing everything we can to free him but your choices there down to you! So watch them”

“None of you are doing anything” he scoffed, I went closer to take his hand in mine. “why do you think your going to prison?” I whispered looking up at his beautiful eyes holding his hand in to my stomach.

“Because I am! Im going to end up in prison anyway so what’s the point” he shouted pulling away from me looking up at the sky with the roll of his eyes.

“well I’m not gonna let you!”

“You can’t do anything about it y/n were all fucked! ki just got kicked out of her parents house Pope hasn’t been home for days! My dad is a dick head- so is Sara’s and you, I don’t even know what your doing here you could go back home to you warm fluffy bed any time you wanted… John B is already in prison it’s just a matter of time before we’re ALL in there too” he shouted at me with tears in his eyes.

I wanted to hug him because he was in pain but he’d hurt me.

“FUCK YOU! I’m a pogue”

“are you? Do you want to be in prison with us” JJ asked me calmly with a hint of a smile.

I pushed him on the chest and he stumbled back a bit looking at my face knowing he’d hurt me.

“your upset …about John B I know, but you don’t have to be such an asshole! If you wanna fuck your life up and go prison be my guest JJ… but you won’t see the others in there, don’t say I didn’t try to help you because that’s all I’ve EVER tried to do” I shouted with a tear sliding out my dolled up eyes. Side looking him before turning my back with attitude and leaving JJ stood there. Alone.

I couldn’t believe I was actually in love with that ass, he’d never spoken to me like that how I knew he was just hurt.

But I wasn’t going to take that it’s not acceptable, no one should be spoke to like that and if he wanted me to forgive him he was gonna have to work for it. I went to sleep soon after that, on the beat up sofa with scrappy blankets feeling empty inside, though I didn’t get much sleep overall.

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, playing back the conversation in my head overthinking it. finally getting to sleep around five am.

“Don’t tell me how to wax my bored!” Is what I woke up to.

My head was clanging from lack of sleep and the sun glaring down at me through the dusty window.

“Boys, SHUT UP” I sailed out to them, not being in the mood to be awake yet “sorry y/n! JJ is just being an idiot”

“what else is new?” I wondered to pope coming out into the straight heat blocking the sun with my hand.

Kiara and pope laugh at me while JJ stood there looking guilty underneath his sunglasses. His face showed that he regretted what happened last night but I really wasn’t interested at the moment. He’d pissed me off.

“Don’t you think he’s using to much wax?” Pope pointed at the bored in JJ’s hands.

“don’t tell me how to wax my bored! Jeez”

JJ lifted up his sparkling sunglasses up on to his head in anger at pope.

“I’m just saying…” “guys seriously stop it!” Kiara looked up giving them daggers clearly getting annoyed. “Remember when y/n suggested you shut up, listen to it!”

“wait shhh.. do you hear that?” JJ rotated his head and eyes away from me peering in to the distance of the road “is that…” I trailed off listening out. Jhon b swerved around the corner in his van with a huge smile on his face. The feeling in the air changed immediately.

“JHON B?!” Kiara jumped over the sofa throwing her magazine on the floor running towards him excitedly flopping in to his arms

The boys followed jumping in to a happy group hug I didn’t Wanna disturb. Though it did put a smile on my face.

“what the hell bro?” JJ slapped John B on the back with a beautiful smile fixed on his face. It was nice to see him genuinely smile.

“They let me go” he smiled shrugging while everyone took a step back.

“Come here” jhon B laughed putting his arms out to me, I’d stayed in the dorm frame the whole time just watching. I bounced over and we met in the middle hugging tightly. “Ugh it’s so good to have you back” I whispered softly

“but they just let you go?” Pope questioned confused.

“Sure did- charges were dropped, wheres Sarah?” He looked around and then at me.

“She didn’t come back last night” JJ sighed so I didn’t have to answer “she went to meet wheezie and didn’t come back” he explained again in more detail when John B looked at me for answers again.

Suddenly out the corner off our eyes we saw a speedboat heading to us, with topper and Sara. The confused ,but happy to be reunited, pogues all ran towards it but gently my wrist was grabbed. Stopping me from following.

“can I talk to you?” JJ asked with a sad soft face pointed to the floor,

“maybe if you actually look me in the eyes for once” I told him while folding my arms defensively so I’d get out of his grasp.

“I’m- sorry I’m so sorry y/n, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that you didn’t deserve to hear that, it came from a place of anger and worry and sadness it wasn’t meant for you”

“That’s what I said to you JJ, I also said I was here for you but you can’t push me away like that” I attacked him with guilt “I know that…” “but theres a reason” JJ fixed his top setting it straight and looked dead into my eye.

This time he took my hand…myy heart beat quickened as I grew more nervous thinking about all the possible things he could say.

“Uh… okay, I really like you..y/n” JJ confessed with a smirk.

“W-what?” My words didn’t know how to come out and my body insisted on making me look like an idiot. I forgot got how to control my body, my mouth was open in shock with What the boy had just said.

“me?”

“Yes, you” JJ’s laughed filled my ears flicking his blonde hair out his eyes . “I said all that’s shit to you yesterday because I know I’ll never be good enough for you… and that hurts so I fucked things up.. but I don’t wanna fuck this up”

“You didn’t fuck anything up, I like you too” I told him softly snaking my hands up to his face holding it so he was looking at me. It was all such a rush.

“but you need to work on your eye contact because you have such pretty eyes” I smiled against his soft lips before kissing him.

Our tongues entered each others mouths and my hand held on to his blonde hair for support. We both pulled away out of breath and burning with the excitement of young love. leaning out foreheads on each other’s.

“Fucking hell y/n, I’d thought out every possibility about how this would go but none of them where like that” he breathed quietly, giggling holding my waist and bringing me closer to his body.

“I promise I won’t ever shout at you again”

“I can deal with the shouting JJ ,it’s the part where you put your self down! That hurts me because I believe in you”.

He looked taken back, “no one- has ever spoke to me like you have” he whispered in realisation, “well then you better fucking listen to what I have to say huh” I raised my eye brow chewing on my bottom lip

JJ nodded his head grinning down before pulling me in to a hug.

“thank you” he whispered in my ear. “For what?” I looked at him funny “for not giving up on me” “no I like you too much” I shrugged looking at the floor to distract my smile.

“I promise I won’t ever give up on you” I told him seriously.

JJ beamed and leant in for another kiss warming my heart and securing me in his strong arms.

#jj outer banks #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj x you #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #viral #fyp #writing #tv series #imagines #television #writers on tumblr #rudy pankow #jj imagine #top story #jj fic #jj fluff #jj fanfiction

[tales-unique]

FAITH, LOST  IV

Oh honey she starts off so spicy! Hence why it's all under a Read More since I don't wanna get done for showing the nasty straight out the gate. Minors better beware! ;3

Tagging the boos, for obvs reasons @chelseareferenced @buckysbaby1 hope you all like it! 😘😘

Chapter 4

It begins as soon as your eyes flutter open. The darkness, familiar, like an old friend, coerces your senses into a heightened state. Exposed, your skin prickles at the coolness of the room, writhing against soft sheets. You exhale in exhilaration; you know what’s to come. It starts small, a low thrum of electricity in the air that tickles your bare flesh. Then it builds, tantalizingly slow, a measured surge of power that has you twisting yourself in knots. You want more. Only He can give you more. His arrival is heralded by the scent of oil and whiskey, leather and smoke. It caresses you, embraces you, and sends you into overdrive. It’s instinctual, a primal desire. It corrupts your mind, the sequence disjointing in its take over. Thick boots echo on a wooden floor, your mouth falling open with a heated breath. Your back arches when you feel his weight dip the bed, heat radiating from him. The contrast has you trembling, body wired. His hands, strong and calloused, grip the backs of your thighs easily. A simple tug and you’re at his mercy, legs parting easily in his strong grip. You moan, he growls. He likes what he can see, those beast eyes glowing a dangerous red in the blackness. Sharp indents form against delicate skin, his claws marking your inner thighs. His little lamb, so sweet and so ready for the slaughter. Then there’s movement, the shuffle of fabric, the chink of a belt buckle. You tense, but you’re ready. The air surges with the oncoming crescendo, the room spinning, or maybe it’s you? You’re not sure, preoccupied with the molten heat that pools suddenly between your legs. You feel his grin, all teeth and tongue helping to blot out the sharp stab of pain.      Forgive me Father, for I have sinned—

The sudden chaos of a burst steam pipe in the hallway outside your room abruptly shocks you from your slumber, a cacophony of sounds assaulting your sleep-hazed senses. You hear Heisenberg shouting, the scraping of metal being reshaped at will, the harsh hissing of escaping steam. Groaning at the rude awakening you flop back against the lumpy couch cushions, kicking off your blanket in protest. A light sheen of sweat covers your body, making your nightclothes stick to you in an uncomfortable way. As you stare up at the ceiling you try to decode the meaning behind your dream. You recall with an embarrassing amount of clarity just what it was you were doing and who you were enjoying it with. Humiliation blooms within you, coloring your cheeks a shade of scarlet. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t indulged in the past, you just never had desires so blatant before. Especially for someone who was your superior in every way. “Hey, you awake in there?” Heisenberg’s voice cuts your thoughts short. All the racket has stopped, there’s just the usual hum of the Factory. “Y-yes!” You squeak, stomach clenching uncharacteristically as you sit up, “I’m awake!” “Well get your ass up, we have work to do!” He claps his hands hard to exaggerate his point and you lament your new found torture as his footfalls recede down the corridor. Oh merciful Mother Miranda how were you supposed to face him anymore?

Heisenberg is, for lack of a better word, pissed. It surges through him and it shows in the haphazard, volatile approach he takes with his work. It isn’t rational, this level of response on his part, but he can’t help it. You’ve barely spoken a full sentence to him all day. Now, he’s under no illusions that you were going to become the best of friends. After all, you had been sent to him by Mother Bitch herself to be his servant and he knew that you were three sheets to the wind over this religious bullshit, but he’d thought that you’d been showing progress in becoming your own person. At least, you were , until that little incident where he had you pinned against his desk and decided to take his teasing to the next level. It isn’t often that Heisenberg considers that he may have gone too far with something, or someone , but he’s definitely considering the possibility now that you seem to be avoiding him wherever possible. You’d even brushed off his blatant last ditch attempt, an offer to accompany him to see his forge and the projects he’d been working on, in favour of praying to Mother Miranda. It’s the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen. You’d been so close to opening up, to no longer being a tool, but instead you’re become even more the meek little lamb of Miranda’s flock. Frustration bubbles within and his temper, short-fused as it already is, takes a critical hit. As a result everything he does has a sharp, volatile edge to it; even something as simple as opening a door is menacing in his current state. It serves to further deter you from him, giving you the space you so desperately desired. That is, until Heisenberg reaches his limit. “Just open up already! You can’t ignore me forever!” He thunders where he stands in the hallway, gritting his teeth in a vicious snarl. When he’s met with your persistent silence he howls in frustration, throwing his arms up in the air. The irony of him choosing to remain outside your door doesn’t go amiss, since it’s well known that he could easily rip the door from its hinges with the flick of his hand because of his nifty little ability to manipulate metal. Which, coincidentally, nearly everything in this Factory is made of in some form or another. But he doesn’t and you’re thankful for that, even if you still don’t want to face him. It continues on relentlessly, neither side backing down, and without realizing it, the whole thing becomes a game in its own right. One that pits you against one another to see who cracks first. So it’s a surprise when it’s Heisenberg that seeks you out first. It’s a situation of his own making, having followed you on the gritty live feed from his security cameras. With ease he catches you off guard on your way out of the elevator, taking your fright in his stride. “Easy now!” He exclaims, his hands raised in surrender. You’re cagey, looking for a way out. He isn’t going to give you one because he’s had about enough of you giving him the cold shoulder over a goddamn joke . You’ve pressed yourself tight against the wall, watching him like a hawk. He can hear the frantic flutter of your heart, the sharp intakes of breath, and his jaw tightens. He can’t get distracted now, he needs to focus — this was not the time to enjoy your distress. “Now I know that I can be a bit of a handful,” he starts, then falters, mouth working to try and word it just right, “but, really, hasn’t this gone on long enough? I didn’t mean any harm by it! Just a little teasing, you weren’t meant to get upset.” Oh, he thinks this is because of that time. You stare up at him in utter disbelief. You want to slap him. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt the innate burning desire to inflict bodily harm on anyone, but here you stand, about ready to knock those glasses right off his face. “You have literally no idea how you make me feel , do you?” You accuse him, incredulous, your posture straightening. Things might have slipped back to the way they were before all of this if he had just let you be, allowed you to warm back up to him, and maybe you might have been content with that. This was a turmoil of his own creation, after all, so why not let him stew in it a while. But now? Now you were at your limit. You’re tired of constantly tip-toeing around yourself because of him and his stupid games. If anything, you’re even more tentative to rekindle whatever this relationship is that you have with him, to throw in the towel and tell Mother Miranda she’d been wrong about you. It made you sour to think that what little progress you had made had been lost and it’s taken its toll on you. There’s a harsh look to you that has Heisenberg’s head spinning, apprehension gripping him. “H-Hold on a minute,” he attempts to defend himself, an uncomfortable blend of emotions sitting like a stone in his stomach. He’s conflicted over your new found confidence. You’re no longer the mild-mannered devotee that was wound around Mother Miranda’s finger, standing tall. You’re practically shining. It’s a good look on you, but he’s not exactly thrilled to be the one on the receiving end. “No!” You snap, squaring up to him. You see his brilliant eyes widen behind his circular glasses and for once in your life you feel powerful and in control . “I’ve done nothing but try my best here, trying to make something good out of this situation and you made me feel like a complete idiot !” The words feel heavy on your tongue, but you feel lighter now that they’re out in the open. Who knew that having your shame out in the open could feel so liberating. You take a deep breath when you feel the pinpricks of tears sting your eyes, trying to ground yourself. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him. Not in this lifetime, or the next. Heisenberg stares down at you with a look of realization on his face, now fully aware that there was more to this than your feelings of inadequacy, that you were little more than a joke to him. It’s always been there, in the way your heart races when he gets just that little bit too close or how your eyes soften when he’s agonizing over his work. He goes to speak this revelation but you shake your head, lower lip trembling. “I was just trying to help .” The way your voice breaks has him in a tailspin, the look of pure anguish in your eyes cutting him deep. This is in no way what he had envisioned when he spotted the chance to clear the air with you. “Oh come on, don’t cry!” It’s a desperate plea, something you never thought you would hear from him. “You’re making me feel really shitty here!” “That’s because you are!” You sob, unable to hold it back anymore. You feel like such a pathetic idiot. That overwhelming monster of self-degradation looms, fueling your misery. If only a dark abyss could just swallow you up and save you from this embarrassment, but you know that’s not going to happen. There’s only this awkward moment, lingering between you. You whimper, trying desperately to wipe away your tears. They stream down your cheeks, burning against your already flushed skin as you sniffle. Suddenly his hands are encasing your own in a firm grip. With a surprisingly gentle touch he tugs them down, exposing you. The whites of your eyes are marred with tiny lines of red and your long lashes clump together from your tears. You’re a mess, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he finds you oddly endearing in the moment. Swallowing, you try to understand what’s going on. Your hands are still held in his, the feel of soft leather almost comforting against your skin, and you wonder if you’re dreaming again. Something stirs in you, glowing embers kicking up from ashes, and you try to pull away. It’s an admirable attempt but Heisenberg easily catches you, holding you in a vice-like grip against him. You whine at the harshness of his grasp and he frowns, loosening his hold just enough to make it bearable. “I’m sorry, alright?” He mumbles, hesitating. It’s been so long, too long, since he’s been in such close proximity to someone who wasn’t prey. You aren’t fighting him, you aren’t trying your damnedest to get away. In fact, you look as though you’re captivated by him. It’s a side of him that no one has ever seen before, the dejection of a man twisted into being a monster. Something inside you breaks anew at how lost he looks, the last and most dangerous of the Lords at Mother Miranda’s disposal. He’s nothing more than a dog on a choke chain, to be used when it’s suited and then discarded afterwards. Just like you. “Heisenberg,” your voice is hushed, woeful. The words are so genuine and your heart isn’t yet made of stone to be immune to their plight. When you shift in his grasp there’s no resistance and you reach up to gently cup his cheeks in your hands. The stubble on his face tickles your palms and his skin is warm and smooth to the touch. You find you quite like it, the contrast of textures. He does little in the way to stop you. In fact, he encourages you. His hands find purchase on your hips, thumbs brushing the delicate spots just below your rib cage. It elicits a soft gasp from you, your body stiffening beneath him. Glistening eyes stare up at him, a swirling maelstrom threatening to drown him along with you. He’s curious whether or not you’re ready to commit to this. Heisenberg knows what you want, or better yet, what your body wants, but your mind eludes him. He waits with bated breath to see what path you will take, the uncomfortable feeling of anxiety creeping in his bones. It’s like poison, a crawling taint that threatens to take over him. What have you done to him? The exact same thing he did to you. It’s a disquieting notion, one that almost overtakes him, until it doesn’t. The doubts are suddenly banished and relief washes over him at the feel of your silken lips against his in a tender kiss. The chain breaks; you're both suddenly free, and it feels euphoric .

#RE #RE8 #RE 8 #Resident Evil #Resident Evil 8 #Resident Evil 8 Village #RE Imagine #RE Imagines #RE8 Imagine #RE8 Imagines #Resident Evil Imagine #Resident Evil Imagines #Karl Heisenberg #Karl Heisenberg Imagine #Karl Heisenberg Imagines #Karl Heisenberg x Reader #Heisenberg Imagine #Heinsenberg Imagines #Heisenberg x Reader

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 15: 6AM Talks

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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

warnings: mentions of sex and kinda suggestive

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Sakusa stares at your sleeping figure, the sunlight giving you a nice morning glow. His finger traces the features of your face, his heart melting. Your half naked body on his. Your skin burning against his. You’re his.

He’s waking up next to year after more than 3 years of longing for this moment.

Your body tenses from Sakusa’s touch as you slowly wake up from your slumber. You move closer to him, your head lying on his muscular arm.

You have no idea (unless i post that extra smexy sexy chapter that has been in my drafts for more than 3 days now ha ha) how you ended up in this situation. You in his bed, clad in his shirt and your underwear. Your hair is in a messy bun, which he tied for you before you fell asleep. You were talking about that Furuta Saki, who he was apparently sleeping with for a year and a half, but he swore he didn’t feelings for. He also promised you that he stopped talking to her even before he found out about you and Kia.

“I told you no touching. Now look at us,” you hiss, but snuggle closer to him. The vibrations from his chest when he chuckles sends a shiver down your spine. You know that once he speaks it’s over for you. You’ve always been weak for his morning voice.

“Good morning,” he greets, his voice deeper than usual, as he ignores your words. He places a kiss on top of your head, his arm pulling you closer if that’s even possible. “Did you sleep well, angel?”

“Stop with that nickname,” you groan, embarrassed.

“Then what about ‘baby’?”

“I said stop...”

“Why? You seemed to like it last night, a lot actually.”

“Omi, I just want to say fuck you.”

“You already did and you were pretty good at it.”

You push your body up, sitting up. You playfully hit his chest with your hand and he just laughs. He swiftly takes your hand off his chest and gently tugs you down.

Sakusa crashes his lips with yours, gentle but eager. As much as you want to pull away, you can’t. It’s like a spell had already been casted on you since who knows when. You hate that you can’t get enough of him.

“It’s almost 6AM. You have to jog and I have to wake Kia up,” you tell him before a moan leaves your mouth. His lips are on your neck, nibbling and sucking on your skin.

“Let Kia sleep in. She’s tired from yesterday’s trip,” he replies to you, his lips still attached to your expose skin. He flips you over, so he’s hovering on top you. “Plus, this is a good exercise.”

Sakusa goes back to kissing you, his tongue grazing over your lower lips for entrance. You allow him and you can taste his mouth. You hate to admit it, but you love it when he’s aggressive like this.

Your thoughts cloud your mind even more when you feel his hands groping ang cupping in sensitive parts of your body. You let out a sinful moan and he groans in satisfaction, loving the sounds you’re making.

He’s on his way to going down on you but softs knocks are heard from the door. He quickly pushes his body off you and get the door. You pull his comforter over your bare chest, his shirt already discarded somewhere in his room.

“Kia, you’re awake,” Kiyoomi says, picking his daughter up. Her hand is holding onto her blanket while the other is rubbing her eye. She spots you on the bed leaning on the headboard and you smile at her awkwardly.

“Good morning, baby,” you greet her, reaching your hands out to her, but making sure the covers doesn’t fall off your body.

Kiyoomi puts Kia on the bed and she crawls her way to you. “Good morning, mama.” She kisses you on your lips, then hugs you. Kiyoomi lies down beside the two of you, his head leaning on your shoulder.

“I wanna sleep here, too,” she pouts with her eyebrows furrowed, playing with Kiyoomi’s curls.

“Wanna sleep here tonight?” Kiyoomi asks her and she smiles in agreement. “Okay, you and your mama can sleep here tonight.”

The three of you stay like that for a few more minutes. Kia is talking about her boyfriends which Kiyoomi hates hearing. You just giggle at his reaction, your fingers tangle in his locks to calm him down.

Kiyoomi feels grateful. He has the two people he loves in his arms and he wouldn’t trade it to anything. He wants to keep this moment in repeat. But he can’t do that so he’ll just treasure it in his heart.

Kiyoomi’s alarm buzzes, a notification that he has to jog popping in his screen. He sighs in disappointment, not wanting to leave the bed. You see the look of sadness in his face so an idea pops in your mind.

“Do you want to bring Kia with you? You can just pit her in her carrier bag while you run.” Kia’s eyes burn in excitement from your idea. Kiyoomi can’t say no to her if she looks so thrilled about spending with him.

“Let’s get changed?” Kiyoomi asks her and she jumps off of you to go to his arms. “How about you?”

He looks at you and you answer, “I’ll make breakfast.” He kisses your forehead then proceed to changing his and Kia’s clothes.

You’re already in the kitchen, back in his shirt and his boxers when they go out Kia’s room. They’re wearing track suits and you can’t help but squeal. You take a picture of them before they head out of the house.

Kiyoomi secures the straps of the carrier, making sure Kia doesn’t fall. He makes Kia face outwards, so she can see the scenario and feel less of his sweat. He puts on his mask and he makes Kia wear a hat.

Kiyoomi starts jogging, slower than usual. He’s afraid that Kia might feel uncomfortable from his pace. He takes a look at her from time to time, making sure she’s enjoying. They pass by a wide flower field, so Kiyoomi stops, seeing Kia’s eyes glimmer at the sight of flowers.

“Wanna go down?” Kia nods at his question. They go down the path that leads to the flower field, Kia tightly holding onto Kiyoomi’s hand.

“It’s so pretty!” Kia exclaims, letting go of Kiyoomi to run to a bush of hydrangea. She examines the flowers seriously, touching it out of curiosity. She giggles as water droplets fall from the flowers.

Kiyoomi watches her, a smile hidden under his mask. Suddenly a wave of fear washes over him.

‘She’s growing up fast.’

He takes his phone and calls her. “Smile!” He tells her. She places her chin on the palm of her hands, doing a flower cup pose. He takes pictures, Kia changing poses from time to time. Kiyoomi’s smile grows wider. How is his daughter so adorable?

“Let’s take selfie together!” Kia requests. He walks to her then squats to be the same height as her. He pulls his mask down, showing off a smile. Kia squishes her cheek with his, grinning widely. He takes multiple snaps, making sure he has multiple of copies of the moment.

They continue to walk around then Kia sees a flower stall. She pulls him to the small stall, pointing at a bouquet of flowers. “For mama!” She points to a bouquet of pink hydrangeas with white roses.

They buy the bouquet the decide to end their stroll. Kiyoomi sends their photo to you before they head back to your house.

You receive the message from Kiyoomi. The picture sending bringing a smile to your face. They’re the best father-daughter pair out there, and no one can change your mind. Unless...

You hear a knock on the door, your train of thoughts interrupted. “Did Omi leave his key?” You wonder as you walk to the front door. You open it without checking the monitor.

“Babe!” A woman cheers then deadpans as she sees you. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” You reply, raising an eyebrow. She pushes you off the way and enters the house abruptly.

“Where’s Kiyoomi?” She asks shamelessly, going inside the houses. She checks the surroundings and see baby items. She turns and eyes you up and down. “Answer me. Where’s Kiyoomi?”

“I won’t answer any of your questions because you’re trespassing,” you reply to her, folding your arms on your chest. “Who are you? Answer before I call the cops.”

“Furuta Saki. Kiyoomi’s girlfriend,” she answers as she flops on the couch. “I didn’t know he was nice enough to let his maid bring her child along with her.”

“Excuse me?” You raise an eyebrow, your patience running thin.

“Aren’t you his helper?” She pushes, crossing her legs. Before you could even say anything you hear the front door’s knob click.

“Mama! Look what Kyo and I got for you!” You hear Kia shouts, her tiny footsteps heard from the whole house.

“Kiyoomi?” Saki calls, her pitch higher than that it was when she was talking to you.

Before Kia can even reach the living room where you and Saki are, Kiyoomi catches the girl. He puts her inside her room, sitting her on the bed. He takes his mask off, putting it on her bedside table. “Stay here, okay? Don’t come out until I tell you to.” Kiyoomi orders before closing the door of the room.

Kia sits there, the bouquet of flowers still in her hand. Who was the other woman’s voice? Her mama doesn’t sound like that.

“What are you doing here?” Kiyoomi asks Saki, unamused.

“I’m visiting you, baby!” Saki latches on Kiyoomi but he dodges her. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?! You’re clearly trespassing in my house!” Kiyoomi raises his voice, but not loud enough for Kia to hear.

“I’m your girlfriend! Did you forget?!” Saki exclaims. “You were fucking me in your bed two months ago.”

You laugh, catching their attention. Sakusa stiffens, scared of you reaction. Saki looks at you in disbelief. “Shut up! You aren’t part of this conversation.”

“Sweetie, he might have been fucking you two months ago but he’s fucking me now. So read the room and head out before I drag you out myself.” You smile at her sweetly. Sakusa is shocked of your blunt words. He’s gotten to seeing you all sweet, motherly and loving that he forgot how you used to be so direct before.

“No way! You’re dumping me for a bitch with a child?!” Saki complains, pointing at you.

“Saki, stop it. Just get out of my house before I call the cops on you,” Sakusa sighs, keeping his cool since Kia is just in the other room.

“What?!” Saki gasps.

“You don’t understand what he said? Are you dumb or are you stupid? Girl, choose a struggle,” you tell her. She is about to pull on your hair but Sakusa stops her with his loud voice.

“I said get out!” Sakusa shouts, pointing at the hallway.

“But Omi! What about us?”

“I told you that nothing special was happening between us and that I’m only sleeping with you for my needs, you agreed with it. What us are you talking about now?” Sakusa bluntly states, a look of despair in Saki’s face very much visible.

“But I made you feel good right? Better than she can!” She jumps on Sakusa. He pushes her off but she continues on throwing herself to him like an obsessed fan.

“Mama...” Kia calls. Your heads whip to her direction and she is standing at the end of the hallway, watching the commotion go down. Kiyoomi gulps while you come to her. Saki glares at her before looking at Kiyoomi again.

“The child’s not even that cute! We can make even cuter babies together!” Saki sounds like she’s pleading.

You try to take Kia into your arms but she steps away from you. The little girl heads to Kiyoomi, then extends her arms up. He pushes Saki off of him and carries Kia into his arm. “Why’d you go out?”

“You said get out,” Kia replies innocently. She thought Kiyoomi was talking about her when he shouted get out.

Kiyoomi kisses her forehead, a slight smile on his face. “Let’s go back in your room, okay?” Kia nods, then puts her chin on his neck, arms wrapped around his neck.

Kiyoomi turns his back on Saki, taking a leave. She attempts to grab on him and but you pull her by her hair. Saki manages to shout, “Kiyoomi! You’re really choosing her for her kid?!”

Kia lifts her head off his shoulder, giving her an empty look. Then, she smiles at her. A sweet one.

“Lady, please get out of our house. Papa hates germs.”

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Facts:

Roses are related to apples, raspberries, cherries, peaches, plums, nectarines, pears and almonds.

Tulip bulbs can be substituted for onions in a recipe.

Flowering nicotiana is related to tobacco, from which cigarettes are made.

In Asia, giving someone pink hydrangeas symbolizes that you are the beat to their heart.

White roses can also symbolize a new beginning and everlasting love

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Taglist:  @elianetsantana aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepi  justoneofthefangirlsarianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian loser-keiji mxngy ne-kuroon1fangirlsblog d-efend missalicebaskervillemarvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea​ bonkyandloki kimi09 ntimacy @mkazuyuh  ushi-please minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi​ yeehawslap  onlyshinji  obsessedwhxre

#haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #sakusa smau #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu sakusa #haikyuu series #sakusa imagines

[tlhrfanfic]

[Analogical] Closest to Heaven

DAY TWO @analogicalweek

Prompt: Stars

Read on A03.

Warnings: Angst, Minor Character Death mention, Grief. (Don’t worry though! Super happy ending!)

———————————————–

Virgil ran out of the house through the back door, the arguing echoing even as he slammed the door shut. He wasn’t afraid of his parents. They weren’t scary or mean or anything like that… to him. 

 But to each other… 

 He used the sleeves of his hoodie to wipe away the stress tears that stubbornly continued to fall. He ran and kept running through the streets until he found a park where the lights weren’t as bright and trees framed the open expanse. 

 He sighed, catching his breath before trudging through the grass. 

 Virgil knew he should go home. At some point his parents would be looking for him. 

 But something caught his attention. 

 He wasn’t sure what it was at first but it had definitely been skyward and so he turned his six year old face to the sky and his jaw dropped. 

 At six, he had definitely seen stars before. But the dimmer lighting meant less lights masking the stars and here, in this park, it seemed there were millions of them. He remembered his best friend telling him that once. That there were millions of stars but most of the time they just couldn’t be seen. 

 He had never, ever seen them like this. 

 So clear, so bright. 

 So.

 Many. 

He stared up in awe at the vast number and before he could stop himself, Virgil laid out on the grass and continued to stare skyward.

 I’d give up forever to touch you,

Cause I know that you feel me somehow.

You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be,

And I don’t want to go home right now.

 Virgil fell asleep there on the grass waking a little later as his mother’s voice startled him and, with one last glance at the sky, ran back to her.

 “Mom… Mom, I saw stars! So many stars!”

 “That’s nice, Virgil, but don’t you ever run out like that again. You scared me. Now, let’s get you home. It’s cold out here.”

 Virgil glanced back at the stars, dim now that he was in a more brightly lit area, but for a moment he was certain that one star in particular shone just a little bit brighter, almost sparkling at him. 

 “Mom.. what are stars?”

 “Hmm?” She asked, taking his hand. 

 “Stars… what are they?”

 She glanced at the stars and smiled down at Virgil. 

 “Well… some people say they are burning gas but I like to think they are guardian angels… keeping us safe.”

 Virgil gasped looking back at the shiny star he had found and smiling. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed as he made his way toward the park. He had been going to this park when he needed space ever since he was a kid. Unfortunately, it had been cleaned up some so more people frequented it which left Virgil annoyed. 

 It’s not your park. You can’t keep people from being here. 

 He was just grateful that the city hadn’t thought to put in more lights. There had been plenty of petitions but the city had far bigger issues it needed the funding for at the moment. 

 Unfortunately, that also meant a lot of other teens came to this specific park when on dates to make out and cuddle. Making a face, Virgil rolled his eyes as he passed one such couple on his way to his favorite spot. 

 He was so happy that no matter when he came, his spot was never touched. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, as it was a prime spot for couples, but no matter what, it was always there. 

 Virgil had nearly reached it when a couple of teens came his way and started to sneer in his direction. 

 “Hey, faggot!” They called. 

 “Wanna suck my dick, pretty boy?”

 “Hey, Emo! Doesn’t look like you’ve managed to kill yourself yet. Why don’t I choke you with my big cock?”

 Virgil hissed lowly and turned toward the three. 

 “You couldn’t handle me, fucktards. But sure, come get a kiss.”

 They recoiled at that and quickly ran off, calling him a freak and using other names he was used to hearing at this point. Honestly, he didn’t get it. It wasn’t like when his parents were kids. Why did so many people still have an issue with gay people? 

 If it wasn’t being gay or goth, they’d just find something else to torment you about, he told himself, sighing. 

 He kept watching them to make sure they weren’t coming back before continuing on. Reaching the spot, Virgil laid out his favorite purple-and-black plaid blanket. Laying out on it, he sighed as he was immersed in a relaxing feeling. 

 Putting his arms behind his neck, Virgil looked skyward and smiled, his eyes instantly finding his favorite star. He wasn’t sure how but it had seemed to grow brighter over the years. Tonight it was especially bright and, for a moment, Virgil allowed himself to believe that it was happy to see him. 

 A giggle caught his attention and he glanced over to see a couple holding each other and such intense emotions in their locked gazes that he could feel from where he was. 

 A groan escaped him and he looked skyward once more. As soon as his eyes met the star once more, it seemed to twinkle in and out for a few seconds. Virgil felt warmth and comfort. 

 Yes, if he just focused on the star—his star—everything would be just fine.

 “I wish you were here… you’d make this… life... all more… bearable.”

 And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later, it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

 Virgil woke at some point after midnight. Swearing, he hurried to get up, knowing his mom would be worrying. Once he had his stuff gathered, he looked up at the sky once more, smiling. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed shakily as he pulled the knot of the tie, loosening it. It still felt like a noose around his neck so he took it off completely, tossing it to the ground as he kept walking. 

 He reached his spot… the same spot he had been returning to for most of his life. Unfortunately, this was the first day he had been here that he no longer had the one person in the world he cared for. 

 “Why did you let this happen?” he growled up at the sky, the angry look in his dark eyes seeming to burn at the star. 

 For a moment, it seemed like the star grew dimmer. Almost as if in response to Virgil’s words. He didn’t know why, but it put a sour taste in his mouth and made his insides drop. 

 “You… you’re right…” he said, not sure why he was talking to the star. “You… it’s not your fault… but… my mom… she’s gone.”

 And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know, you're alive

 Virgil suddenly fell to the ground, sobbing as he gripped into the earth beneath his hands. It grounded him and he looked up to see the star shining even more brightly, flickering every few seconds as if it was trying to say something. 

 “I don’t know what you’re saying… I don’t know what you want… maybe I’m crazy and this is selfish… but I want you here… or I want to be where you are…”

 He laughed at himself, bringing a hand up to his eyes to wipe angrily at the still flowing tears. 

 “This is a mistake… I… I don’t think I can keep coming… I’m… I’m sorry… thank you for always being there for me… I won’t forget you.”

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed shakily as he took one step onto the sweeping grass of the park. He bit his lip and took another step. 

 You are being ridiculous, V.

 Pushing past his nerves—there was no reason to be nervous—Virgil strode with purpose past the larger lawn area in favor of returning to the spot that had gotten him through his childhood. 

 Reaching it now, Virgil smiled fondly. 

 He saw ghosts of his past. A little kid seeking security. A teenager seeking first love. A new adult seeking comfort. 

 Here he was once again… though this time it had been so much longer since he had been back. 

 Ten whole years, in fact. 

 Now a man of 31 and successful in life—he had gone to school to become a programmer, not that either mattered to him much. 

 Just like he had earlier in life, he sought more. 

 He yearned for a part of him that hadn’t been found. A part that could only be found in another soul. 

 Virgil didn’t believe in soulmates or anything like that. Still, he did believe—for himself, at least—that to be truly complete, he needed that special someone to share his life with. 

 Otherwise, what was it all for?

 Sure, he was comfortable and healthy and relatively happy. None of that was the problem. 

 If he never found someone to share life with, he would be just fine. 

 But that wasn’t what he wanted.

 And in searching for that, it had brought Virgil back to this special and sacred place. Sure, calling it sacred sounded a little dramatic, especially to him, but the feeling was there, just the same. 

 This place was sacred… to him. 

 That was all that mattered. 

 Allowing a little eyeroll and a smirk at his dramatics, Virgil allowed his eyes to finally move skyward. 

 For a moment, Virgil couldn’t find it. His heart beat rose and he felt a rush of dread but then his gaze caught it. 

 The star was a lot dimmer than he remembered but it was the right star. His star. He was sure of it. 

 At first, he felt a little silly. He almost didn’t want to speak but something urged him to, deep inside. 

 He told himself that if he was ever going to find what he needed, he had to make amends. Even if now he knew the star was just burning gas, it didn’t matter. 

 He needed to do this. He had to see it through. 

 “Hey… star… um… it’s Virgil.”

 God, I feel so stupid.

 He pushed past the embarrassment and insecurities and went on. 

 “I… I owe you an apology.”

 He didn’t know why but the star seemed to brighten. He knew it was probably just a trick of the mind but it made him feel better. He hesitated before moving to sit on the ground. Pulling his legs up to him slightly and resting the weight of his upper body on his hands, he leaned back to look at the star. 

 For a moment, he just sat in silence.

 And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

 “Look… I’m not sure what to even say and I know you’re not actually some being that can magically hear me or whatever but I still need to say this…” If I’m to ever move on… he finished in his head, too embarrassed to even think it. 

 When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am.

 “I just… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me… everything you are to me… just… thank you. When mom died… I… I blamed you and that wasn’t fair… it wasn’t your fault… it’s just… life’s a dick… but yeah… thank you… for always being there…”

 The star seemed to flicker and Virgil couldn’t help but beam up at it. It was almost as if ten years hadn’t come and gone. 

 He shifted to lay on the ground, his hands behind his head like he used to do as a kid. He sighed and let the comfort and nostalgia blanket him in warmth. He felt safe. He felt hope. 

 Virgil felt in that moment that anything was possible.

 I just want you to know who I am.

 “I wish… I wish you could be… a person… like me. An actual human I could hold and touch. Someone I could love for who and what they are, that could love me for who and what I am…”

 He laughed softly, shaking his head, glancing away.

 I just want you to know who I am.

 “Silly, right?”

 He snorted, looking up as if sharing an inside joke with the star. For a brief moment, he thought he was seeing things. 

 His star was gone. 

 At first he thought he had just misplaced it… or had looked in the wrong place. But no, he knew that star like he knew himself and that included where in the sky it resided. 

 “What the fuck?”

 Virgil got up quickly, staring up at the sky. He then squinted as if that would help him.

 “V-Virgil?”

 Virgil spun on his heels and stared as a very attractive man dressed in slim fit slacks, a navy button down shirt patterned with stars, and rectangular metal framed glasses seemed to glide across the distance between them.

 Virgil felt torn. His first instinct was to challenge the trespasser. He could be a serial killer or something. That feeling, however, was in complete contrast to the overwhelming feeling of familiarity

 Had he gone to school with this guy or something?

 No… I’d never have forgotten someone who looks like him.

 That was true too. Virgil, being gay, found men attractive… that’s how it worked. But he had never been so attracted to anyone as he was to this man. 

 “I don’t know what your game is but uh… I’m not really in a mood to talk… you’re kinda interrupting my er… quiet time…”

 The man tilted his head, looking confused. He then continued his walk toward him until he was standing a few feet away. 

 The feeling of familiarity tripled and he narrowed his eyes slightly. 

 “Did we go to school together or something? I swear I know you but I’ve never seen you before in my life… how’d you know my name? Please don’t be a stalker or something.”

 Again, the man looked confused and also a little concerned. Then something seemed to click with him as his eyes brightened and he smiled.

 “Oh… you don’t recognize me in this form.”

 Virgil’s eyes widened. 

 Of course Mr. Perfect was clinically insane. 

 He sighed but before he could say anything, the man had closed the distance between them. Virgil jumped back. 

 “Personal bubble, dude!”

 The man looked sad and Virgil felt a rush of guilt before remembering the guy was the one acting strange.

 “I apologize… you had just asked me so many times to hold you… I’m afraid I just assumed…”

 Virgil’s eyes widened at that. He quickly looked up at the spot where his star should be. It was as empty as it had been when he first noticed…

 When this man had first shown up. 

 But that was impossible.

 Stars didn’t just become people. 

 “I’m going crazy or I’ve died…”

 The man gave him a concerned look. 

 “I can assure you that you are not dead, Virgil. I also wish you to understand… I did this…” He gestured at his body and bit his lip. “I did this for you.”

 “Oh my fucking God… you are crazy. Stars don’t become people, dude! It doesn’t happen! Stars are gas! Not sentient beings!”

 The man laughed softly and Virgil swore there was an almost twinkling sound to it. Not really what normal laughs sounded like. The man, he realized, also kind of glowed. It was so subtle though that he doubted anyone but him would notice. 

 Still, it couldn’t be… it was impossible. 

 Wasn’t it?

 He slowly moved closer, hoping it wouldn’t bite him in the ass. He’d allow himself a little silliness… if it meant that this was real. 

 Could it really be? Is there any fucking way?

 “I’ve wanted this for so long…” The man said now, just standing there and letting Virgil inspect him. He bit his lip, as if nervous. Could stars feel nervousness?

 Well… he’s… he’s human now…

 He held the other’s gaze. His eyes were brown but almost golden. There was such warmth and comfort there. Slowly, Virgil’s eyes widened. 

 “It is you!”

 Ignoring the fact that this whole situation was feeling a bit too much like a Disney movie, Virgil threw his arms around the man. 

 “You’re here… you’re actually here… I can’t believe it… I don’t even give a fuck that it should be impossible… you… you came to me…”

 Virgil looked up, ignoring the way happy tears streamed down his face. The main raised a hand, gentle fingers wiping them away. 

 “I am… I am sorry it took so long… I had tried to come sooner but as I was working on it… that one night… I worried you wouldn’t wish to see me… so I waited…”

 He smiled so warmly and lovingly down at Virgil and Virgil blushed. 

 “I knew you would return one day and then I could be with you, if that was still what you wished.”

 Virgil’s tears doubled as he laughed, nodding. 

 “You have no idea,” he said and with that he wrapped his arms around the other’s neck and kissed him desperately. He hated closing his eyes, worried that the man would vanish and the star would be back in the sky, but instinct won over his fear. Luckily, he still felt the other kissing him back. 

 Pulling away, Virgil blushed. 

 “I just realized… I don’t know what to call you… do you even have a name?”

 The man nodded, smiling down at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. 

 “My actual name you would not be able to pronounce. But I have chosen a new one for myself, now that I no longer have need for the other. You may know me as Logan.”

 Virgil mouthed it and smiled. 

 It was the perfect name for his star. 

 “Logan,” he said and the man blushed but beamed. Virgil blushed as well but couldn’t stop smiling.

 “Virgil,” Logan said, smiling back. He then glanced up at his old home. “It’s so much different… seeing it through these eyes… and thinking… so strange... but… if you’re here… and this is your home… then I want to share it with you… if that is something you would like.”

 Virgil just threw his arms around him and buried his face into the crook of Logan’s neck. Long arms wrapped around him, embracing him. If he hadn’t quite been sure that this wasn’t all an elaborate dream, he was sure now. 

 Nothing in life had felt as safe and sound as his time with his star had and that was the exact feeling he felt now, in the other’s arms. He smiled and pressed closer. 

 “I love you, Logan.”

 He didn’t know how, but he could feel rather than see Logan’s smile. 

 “I love you, Virgil.”

 I just want you to know who I am.

———————————————–

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Thomas Sanders or Joan, nor the rest of their group. I do not own or make money off of these characters. I only own the story as it is written.

Super uber thanks to my beta reader for this fic @sunshineandteddybears​ and the two that preread my stuff to make sure its up to par: @romantichopelessly & @sunshineandteddybears.

#analogical #ts analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #tsart #ts virgil #ts logan #analogical week 2021 #tlhrfanfic #insanelycoolish #tlhr writing

[alice-dont-break]

a little fic for y’all based on the writing retreat, because i’m obsessed with how peaceful she looks and would like to imagine ant being there too 😌 special thank you to @aangstlord for literally half of these ideas and for being my #1 fan 💕

With how much peace she found through writing, Jasmine sometimes forgot how drained she could be at the end of a long session. Recording from the floor had begun because it was comfortable and grounding, but eventually she found herself washed away by the quiet strumming of the guitar until her eyes fluttered shut. A faint smile continued to brighten her face as the serenity of the retreat kept her as warm as a blanket would have, but her features were all softened into her effortless sleep.

Anthony had given her space to work through this latest idea, though it was nearly impossible to pull himself away. Whether he was serving as her muse or watching the sparkle in her eye follow a new inspiration, watching her in her element was enchanting. Luckily for him, the silky timbre of the melodies she played with flowed through the entire house, ensuring he’d never lose the soothing quality they always exuded.

Silence fell along with a wave of calm in the earliest morning hours, but Anthony found himself waiting for her to drag herself towards him in bed to no avail. He decided to go check on her in the living room turned recording studio, and found her curled up on the floor in a peaceful sleep. He was tempted to let her rest, as she had melted so completely into the floor that her face held not a single crease, but decided he ought to save her from the strain in her neck she would have surely woken to a few hours later.

He padded towards where she lay on the ground and crouched down beside her, careful to preserve the last few seconds of her rest. For one final moment, he listened to the slow puffs of her breath and aligned himself to her easy rhythm, then reached with both hands to gently squeeze her shoulders. He let the warmth of his hands linger over her upper back, as his thumbs kneaded circles around her shoulder blades until her lashes untangled to reveal her sleepy brown eyes gazing up at him.

“Hey Jas? Wanna come up to bed, baby?” He whispered, to blend in with the softness that wrapped her up. She could only muster some sleepy grumbles, but he knew that the subtle dip of her chin was close enough to a nod. He trailed his hand up from her back to stroke her cheek, clearing away her hair so he could duck down and press a soft kiss there. “Okay love, I’ve gotcha.”

His hands slipped under her arms to pull her up with him as he stood, and she clung to his chest just as quickly. She knowingly wrapped her arms and legs around his neck and waist as he enveloped her in a tight hug, pausing to kiss the side of her head before walking as steadily as possible towards their bedroom. She hummed softly as she settled her face in the crook of his neck, soaking up all his warmth and allowing his embrace to keep her on the edge of sleep. Her eyes easily stayed closed, as she didn’t need to know what was going on around her to know that he had everything taken care of. The arm wrapped around her back and the hand in her hair gave her all the safety she needed to rest.

When they reached the bedroom, Anthony carefully set her down on her side of the bed, and left her with a kiss to her forehead to go retrieve pajamas and a face cloth from the bathroom. When he returned, she had rolled over to his side of the bed, burying her nose into his pillow to inhale his musky scent. He stood at the edge of the bed for a few breaths to watch how her features relaxed with the cadence of her breath, then sat down next to her. He combed his fingers through the curls strewn across her forehead and pushed them back, so he could bring the warm cloth to her face. She grumbled a barely audible “thank you” as he swiped the water down to her neck then peppered a few gentle kisses along the dampened ridge of her cheekbone.

The coolness of the air against the water on her face gave Jasmine a little burst of energy, so she held onto his forearm for leverage to pull herself up to seated. Hugging his arm tightly and using his bicep as a pillow, she nuzzled into him through a yawn.

“Can I get you changed, babe?” He tried to rouse her with a firm hand rubbing up and down her back, but still all he got in return was some grumbling and a nod, so he breathed out a little laugh and confirmed with a peck to her temple. He left her there for a moment, ignoring her groan as soon as they lost contact, then returned a few seconds later with one of his t-shirts and a pair of pajama shorts.

She sat limp in his arms, allowing him to pull off her sweatpants and replace them with the soft linen shorts, then complied lazily when he tapped her arms so she’d raise them for him to lift off her shirt and bra. Instead of dropping them back down to her sides when he was done undressing her, she looped them tightly around his neck, pulling him down to nuzzle into the side of her head.

“Almost done baby,” he cooed, “then we can cuddle all night, okay?”

“Mkay,” she whined, giving up her hold on his neck.

Before standing up he dipped down to press a kiss to the bare skin over her collarbone, then another to the side of her jaw, and finally one to the corner of her mouth. She was so naturally gorgeous like this; her freshly dewed skin, her eyelashes floating together then apart with her slow blinks, and her lips curling with every gentle touch of his skin on hers.

Finally, he slipped one of his t-shirts over her head, and she swiftly worked her hands through the sleeves so she could wrap herself up in a tight hug. She dipped her nose down to inhale his scent from the fabric that draped around her, and hummed contently. Before she could lay back herself, Anthony had already pulled off his own shirt and lay down next to her, so he wrapped an arm around her waist and eased her back into him.

She rested her head back on his shoulder for just a moment before curling into his side, throwing a leg over his and resting her palm on his chest. His arm was wrapped tightly around her upper back, settling to rub up and down in time with their breathing. His chin dipped down so he could kiss the crown of her head, which prompted her to tilt upwards to meet his lips with her own. They kissed gently, their lips never really separating except for quick breaths where they’d fill the gap between them by nudging their noses together.

The only sounds that filled the room were the pecking of their lips, the shuffling of the blankets as Jasmine inched up closer to him, and the soft giggles as their chins bumped together. There were no words to be exchanged, as the curl of their lips together told the entire story of how content they were to be in this haven they’d created.

Once they were certain that they’d memorized every detail of the other’s lips all over again, and that the sweetness of the other wouldn’t fade, Anthony brushed over her cheek with his thumb and pulled them apart with a last, slow kiss to the corner of her smile. Jasmine grinned to herself as she curled deeper into his arms until her head rested on his stomach, pondering whether a day already so perfect could always be made better by something as simple as her fiancé’s kiss.

As she began to trace little shapes over the ridges of his abs beside her head, her words began to flow just as effortlessly. “Today was good,” she mumbled.

“Yeah?” His fingers began to thread through her hair, pushing the wayward curls off her forehead so he could see the way her eyes brightened when she spoke.

“Mhm, got a lot done. Think I’ll have the full album by the time we leave.”

“S’amazing baby, you gotta teach me how to get somethin’ done that fast,” he chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over her cheek as she tilted up to meet his eyes. They smiled at one another though their faces stayed soft, happy enough to focus on the tender, loving focus they could find in the other’s eyes.

Jasmine continued telling him about the progress she’d made throughout the day, pausing occasionally only to tilt her head up to bask in the way Anthony watched her speak. His attention was honed solely on her and his admiration seeped into his every feature. His eyes crinkled up every time her pitch climbed when she got excited about the idea she was telling him, lost in the way her unfamiliar sense of pride had her cheeks burning against his skin.

Each time she looked up, his knuckles stroked gently down her cheek while they exchanged barely-there smiles that turned into breathy giggles, just enough to tell the other that they were nearly bursting with how much love they felt in that moment. After a while, Jasmine’s words turned more into mumbles and Anthony’s responses into soft forehead kisses, as their focus shifted to the way their bodies melded together. Jasmine buried her face into his stomach and wrapped her arm tighter around his middle, trying to pull him closer despite already being fully enveloped and flush against him. He was holding her just as secure, with the arm tightly around her rubbing soothing circles over her hip while his fingers twisted her curls then pressed into her scalp, releasing her from whatever tension hadn’t already melted off into the crumpled sheets beneath them.

Most often when they’re positioned like this, with his soft touches and hushed tones, he’s carefully and wearily watching for hitched breaths or watering eyes and praying that somehow his efforts to soothe her to sleep will pay off. Tonight though, he found himself watching for her eyes lingering over his lips or the coy blushing around her cheeks that she’d try to hide against him. Instead of wishing she’d fall asleep, he hoped they could stay awake forever in this moment. It was a double edged sword though, as the very things that made them so content were pushing them towards sleep.

As Anthony felt her eyelashes brush against him at a slower and slower pace until they were finally shut, Jasmine was using the steady thud of his heart as her own personal lullaby. At some point, she felt hands bracing her waist before she was pulled upward, but the scent of the crook her face had been nestled into was so familiar and homely than she didn’t need to stir. He’d simply needed her closer, so he could nuzzle his cheek against her head and feel her chest rising and falling along with him. Even if it felt redundant with how peaceful she’d been all week, he always needed to be sure he could wake up if she stirred or faltered in the night.

Once they were settled in on Anthony’s pillow, sinking deeper into their combined indentation in the mattress, he pulled the blankets over them, being sure Jasmine was properly bundled where none of their shared warmth could escape. Even though he was just as relaxed and could have fallen asleep right then too, he decided to wait. He wanted to soak up this image, focusing on how he felt purely happy, rather than his usual exhausted sense of relief, to see her so peacefully resting. There were no worries or fears that her anxiety would follow her into sleep and turn dreams into nightmares, or tears suppressed for her benefit that were now clawing their way out; he was simply in awe. She was beautiful, calm, and safe in his arms, and now he could lull himself to sleep with the softness of the kisses he’d press over and over to her forehead.

#jasmine cephas jones #anthony ramos #janthony #janthony fics #my fics

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

He makes a mental note to give Bobby a talk later, when he’s feeling better, about hiding stuff like this—and then maybe he’ll give Luke and Alex (and himself) a talk about whatever they did to make Bobby feel like he has to.

We need Reggie yelling at the boys to be better friends to Bobers PLEASe

ok so this took forever and also it's not actually Reggie yelling at Luke and Alex, it's Reggie yelling at Bobby.... but I tried like four different versions of this and I'm actually really happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy!

This takes place in my All Too Well Splinterverse. It's a direct sequel to something about it felt like home somehow, but it takes place after the events of cause there we are again in the middle of the night, so be aware of spoilers/confusion if you haven't read both of those.

read on ao3 here:

--

Gathering up his courage, Reggie knocks on the door.

“Come in!” a voice calls, hoarse and stuffy, followed by a round of harsh coughs.

Reggie hesitates again, curling his hands into fists around the straps of his backpack. Maybe this was a mistake, he starts to think. Maybe he should’ve waited a little longer, waited for a better time to do this. Maybe he should’ve just left the stuff he brought in the studio and gone home without making any actual conversation…

But he made it all the way here… he can’t back down now. So he takes a deep breath, swallows back his nerves, and pushes the door open.

Bobby’s sitting up in bed, propped up against three or four pillows, a blanket over his legs and another around his shoulders. He looks tired—like, more tired than Bobby always looks, which is saying something—and his hair is all mussed up, his nose cherry red, his cheeks flushed in contrast to his waxy skin.

He’s sick, all right. Sicker than he was a week ago, the last time Reggie saw him when they were helping Luke with his discharge from the hospital. Being sick doesn’t make Bobby any less attractive, though, which Reggie should really not be thinking about right now.

“Reg!” Bobby croaks, placing the steaming mug he’s holding on the nightstand. He clears his throat and swipes a wrist under his nose, sniffling as he turns back to Reggie with a thin smile. “Hey, man, what are you doing here?”

Reggie blinks, forgetting for a second what he is doing here. But then he remembers and shakes his head a little, scrambling to get his backpack off and unzipping it. “Oh, um. Your mom let me in. I brought…” With some difficulty, he yanks out a packet of papers stuffed at the top of his pack. “...your homework!”

“Gee, thanks,” Bobby mutters sarcastically. He sniffles again and rubs his nose, nodding at the desk by the door. “You can just leave them there, thanks, man.”

Reggie nods and stacks the papers on the desk, followed by the books he grabbed from Bobby’s locker after trying every possible combination until he could get it open. With his official mission complete, though, Reggie hesitates again, lingering by Bobby’s desk. He doesn’t want to leave, but… he also doesn’t quite know how to say what he actually came here to say.

“You probably shouldn’t—” Bobby starts to say, then breaks off to sneeze into his elbow, twice.

“Bless you,” Reggie says, hovering awkwardly

Bobby makes a tired, congested sound and sniffs wetly, grabbing the tissue box on the bedside table. “As I was saying, you probably shouldn’t get too close. I am… disgusting.”

Reggie doesn’t respond. Bobby blows his nose and tosses his dirty tissues into the overflowing trash can next to the bed. He slumps back into his pillows, retrieves his mug and takes a sip, and only then seems to realize Reggie’s still standing there.

“Did you need something else, bro?” he asks, peering at Reggie over the rim of his mug.

“Just wanted to see how you were feeling,” Reggie says, a little too quickly. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder again. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous right now, so awkward.

Maybe because he’s never been in Bobby’s room for this long before, or at all without the other guys, or alone with Bobby since—

Since a few minutes in the hospital, since holding his hand on the front porch, since Reggie realized he liked Bobby as more than a friend.

Not that that… matters, now.

“I’m okay,” Bobby says with a shrug before coughing into a fist. “I sound worse than I feel, honestly, I’m mostly just congested at this point. But I’m on the good drugs, so.” He chuckles a little; Reggie doesn’t join him. Bobby clears his throat again and turns serious. “No, but. Fever’s been under 101 for three days straight, so. I’m on the mend.”

“Good,” Reggie says, managing a smile. “Good, that’s really good.”

Something shifts in Bobby’s expression, something that makes dread pool in Reggie’s stomach even before the words, “How’s Luke?” are out of Bobby’s mouth.

“He’s—” Reggie starts to say and then chokes on the word good. “—getting there. Fever’s gone, but he hasn’t been back at school yet cause his ribs are still healing. And he can’t play music yet, so he’s bored out of his mind.”

Bobby nods. “Yeah, he took his guitars home, but I didn’t know if he could do much playing yet. Things at home, though, are… I mean, he’s been okay with his mom and dad?”

“So far. I think they’re just really glad he’s home.”

“Good.” Bobby smiles a little, visibly relaxing, and then turns away to cough into his elbow, rubbing at his chest like it hurts. He sips at his tea some more.

This should be Reggie’s cue to leave. He brought Bobby his homework, he asked how he was feeling, he gave him an update on his… on Luke.

There’s nothing more for Reggie to do here. And yet he can’t get himself to walk away.

The words are out of his mouth before he makes any conscious choice to say them. “Bobby, are you and Luke, like… dating now?”

Bobby chokes on his tea. “Uh—I—wh-what makes you ask that?”

“Well, you said he kissed you. And you guys seemed pretty cozy at the hospital, so… I just wondered…”

Something closes off in Bobby’s expression, like a curtain being drawn behind his eyes. It makes Reggie’s heart sink, reminds him that oh,  yeah, he and Bobby don’t… talk about things like this. That even though they’ve been getting along better since the whole migraine incident (not that they’d been getting along badly before then, they just hadn't really been… getting), they’re still not much more than bandmates.

“You don’t… have to tell me.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Bobby says quickly, even as his cheeks flush red. “I, uh… I guess we are? Or we’re going to be? Dating, I mean, once we’re both feeling a hundred percent.”

Reggie nods. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels… not sad, really, or even disappointed, it’s not like he’s surprised—but just… Actually, he doesn’t know what he feels.

“I’m really happy for you guys,” he manages to choke out.

Bobby’s smile cuts like a knife. “Thanks, Reg. That means a lot.”

Reggie nods and starts backing toward the door. “Cool. I mean—yeah. Yeah, no—no problem, man.”

He fumbles for the doorknob, but Bobby’s voice stops him. “I gotta thank you, Reg.”

“For what?”

“For all your help last week.” Bobby shifts his weight on the bed and clears his throat, his hands wrapped securely around his mug like he needs it to steady him. “With Luke, and… and taking care of me at the hospital. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Reggie blushes and starts to stammer out a reply, but Bobby cuts him off again. “And I need to apologize for snapping at you.”

Reggie blinks. “What? When did you—?”

“The other night, at the hospital. You asked if my head hurt and I…”

Right. Reggie remembers now. He’d seen Bobby rubbing his forehead and thought the stress of the night had given him a migraine (turns out, he was just catching Luke’s cold). So, he’d tried to take Bobby’s hand, ready to use the pressure point trick that had worked so well on him last time, but Bobby had flinched away, eyes wide and angry, and said, I’m fine!

That had been right after Bobby told Reggie that he and Luke had kissed. So Reggie had been feeling a lot of feelings at the time. He must’ve blocked the rest of it out.

“I just don’t like to make a big deal about them,” Bobby continues. “The migraines, I mean. And Alex doesn’t even know about them, and there was already so much going on with Luke… but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

“Why not?”

Bobby blinks. “Why… should I not have taken it out on you?’

Reggie shakes his head. “Why doesn’t Alex know about your migraines?”

“Because I didn’t tell him?”

“But why not?” Something sharp in Reggie’s chest tells him he shouldn’t push, but he can’t help it. “Why didn’t you tell any of us? If I didn’t find you that one time, you were just gonna play a whole rehearsal in pain and then go hide in your room to suffer alone, without telling any of your bandmates something was wrong? We would’ve helped you, Bobby. At the very least, we could’ve rescheduled our band practice.”

Bobby’s expression is hard to read—not quite angry, but definitely not happy with Reggie’s little speech either. He says, his voice low and small and just creeping toward cold, “I told Luke.”

Right. Because Bobby was Luke’s friend first. Because Bobby is Luke’s boyfriend now. Because Bobby is Luke’s.

But for the first time in weeks, that thought doesn’t make Reggie sad. Instead, it makes him furious. So even though he wants to support his friends, and even though Bobby’s sick, and even though Reggie makes a point to never shout at the people he loves, all the anger and hurt and jealousy inside him just burst out.

“What did we do to you, man? Me and Alex, did we—did we say something wrong? Why do you act like we’re not really your friends, like you can’t trust us? Even when Luke was really sick, you couldn’t call us for help until he was burning up from the inside out. And I don’t get it! Do you just like Luke more than us? Did he do something we didn’t to prove he could be trusted? Are you just really fucking stubborn? Why won’t you let me help you? I just wanna help you, Bobby!”

He loses steam and fumbles over his thoughts, the emotions that had been so prominent a second ago draining out of him until he almost can’t remember what they felt like anymore. Bobby’s staring at him, his face flushed and not from fever, his gaze laser-hot, his white-knuckled hands wrapped so tightly around his mug of tea that Reggie worries it’ll shatter.

“I don’t need your help, Reg,” he says tersely.

Reggie feels an agonizing pang in his chest, like his heart has cracked into a million pieces. He takes a deep breath and lets the shrapnel puncture him.

“Okay, Bobby,” he says flatly, and scoops his backpack up off the floor. “If you don’t want my help, then I’ll just stop offering.”

He doesn’t wait to hear Bobby’s reply. He just turns away, swiping at tears he didn’t realize he’d shed, and walks out the door.

--

Taglist (ask to be added or removed):

@whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @molinapattersons @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard @jatpfs

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfiction #fanfiction #all too well series #all too well splinterverse #500 followers aaaah!!! #bobby wilson #bobby shaw #reggie peters #lukebobby #boggie #sickfic

[collecting-stories]

Thalassophobia - JJ Maybank

Request: Hello I love your writing so much! Could you possibly do one where she doesn’t get along with JJ and he find out that she can’t swim and he taunts her and she begs him not to tell the others, and somehow she ends up in the sea and she’s struggling/ gets hurt and he has to help her and care for her and they have a moment or something pleasee x

A/N: Thalassophobia is a fear of the ocean or deep bodies of water. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

☆☆☆☆

You stood at the end of the jetty staring at the Heyward’s boat as John B and JJ loaded the drone on. Kiara was looking over the map one more time and Pope was swearing to his dad that it was all just some regular fun, nothing to worry about. And you were just standing still the whole time, staring at the boat and the minute gap between the boat and the jetty were you could see water.  

“I think maybe I’ll sit this one out.” You finally said, speaking up for the first time since John B picked you up in the twinkie that morning.  

“What?” Kiara looked over at you in surprise. “No way we’re all going.”

“I just don’t wanna be out there on the water. I can’t swim.” You confessed, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.  

“Everyone can swim.” JJ piped up. You rolled your eyes, knowing immediately that this was going to start an issue with him. He was always looking for a way to piss you off.  

“No.”

“Well obviously,” he replied, casting a glance your way, “but everyone else can.”  

“Some people didn’t learn okay?” You defended yourself. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t swim, it wasn’t like you didn’t want to.  

“You live on an island, at the beach, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life ‘you can’t swim’.” JJ said, doing his best impersonation of you at the end, which really just sounded high-pitched and whiny.  

“Well I can’t swim. So I’m not getting on that boat with you guys.”  

“That’s fine, we’ll let you know what happens.” Kiara said, drawing your attention toward her as she touched your arm, trying to be as reassuring as possible.  

“No way! No! We said we needed everyone and you’re part of that as you so annoyingly insist on pointing out so get on the boat.” JJ’s voice raised a little, getting more pissed by the moment as you refused to get on board.  

“No!”

“JJ, she’s not getting on.” Pope said, coming up beside you on the jetty.  

“Whatever! Then we get your half.” He concluded.  

“No way! That’s not fair.” You snapped. He was stubborn and you knew he would take every opportunity to cut you out of the group. But you couldn’t let him win, “fine, I’m getting on the fucking boat you asshole.”

“Good.” JJ said,

“Great.”

“Can we just go already!” John B sighed, annoyed with both of you. JJ and you were both childhood friends of John B’s, you’d both known him equally as long, and he refused to choose between the two of you. Meaning that JJ spent way more time with you than he would have preferred. Including this, you getting on the boat with them.

☆

The calm weather that John B had claimed was supposed to stick around all day quickly deteriorated into a coming storm. Reluctant to do so but not comfortable with John B and Pope in the back of the boat, you had moved inside with JJ, sitting on a crate in the corner and trying not to look as the wind shifted and the waves picked up. Surprisingly JJ said nothing about your behavior though he did feel the need to volunteer you when John B called for help.  

“Hey, come here for a second, we need help with the rope.”  

You looked at JJ, waiting for him to do something but he just continued to stand there behind the wheel. Finally, he looked down at you, smug. “Unless you can suddenly sail a boat they aren’t talking to me.”

“I’m going!”  

You made your way over to John B and Pope carefully holding the side once you were close enough. Rain was starting to come down and the waves crashed against the side of the boat.  

“If you just, grab right there, yeah. Grab that. Pull.” John B instructed, handing you the rope and checking the camera to see where they were. “Shit, JJ, port, port!” He moved away from the edge to talk to JJ, leaving you and Pope to pull the rigging.  

“I am!”

JJ turned the wheel just enough to get the drone out from under the boat and you lost your footing, trying to grab on to something but too close to the edge of the boat. You were there holding the rope one second and the next you had been knocked over, trying to grip the rope but burning your hand as you crashed into the water below.

“John B!” Pope screamed. Kiara ran over to your side, looking over the edge.

“Holy shit!” She cried, “where’s the life raft?”  

“What happened?” John B asked, JJ coming to the door to see the commotion.  

“Guys we don’t have time I’m going in.” Pope announced.  

“I’ll go, I’m a better swimmer.” JJ said, already pulling off his hat and sweatshirt so he could go in after you. John B took hold of the wheel, fighting to keep the boat steady as JJ jumped in after you.

☆

“She’s waking up.” JJ called, “Kie give me some water.”

Kiara came over, kneeling beside you as you started to come to, your head on JJ’s lap. He brushing hair away from your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. He took the water bottle that Kiara offered him, wetting the sleeve of the sweatshirt he still hadn’t put back on, pressing it against your forehead and cheeks.  

“Hey, are you okay?” Kiara asked, holding onto your hand and giving it a squeeze.  

“Yeah. I told you I can’t swim.” You replied, tilting your head back to look at JJ.  

“Didn’t think you’d try to prove it.”  

“Come on, we need to get off the boat.” Pope called, standing on the jetty. John B had steered the boat the rest of the way back into the harbor and docked it. The storm that was coming not far off now, “can you walk?”

Kiara helped you sit up while JJ moved from behind you, standing up and capping the water bottle. He stuck it in his pocket and squatted down beside you, wrapping an arm around your back. “Here, I got you.”

“I don’t need you helping cause you feel bad that I went overboard.” You mentioned, even as you leaned most of your weight on him and let him stand you up.  

“Can you stop being a pain in the ass and just accept my help?” He replied, securing an arm around your waist even now that you were righted, prepared to help you get off the boat.  

“Fine. Thank you.”

“What exactly is our next move supposed to be guys?” Pope asked, helping John B carry the drone down the dock toward the twinkie.  

“I wouldn’t mind our next move being dinner.” JJ piped up.

“I second that.” John B replied.  

“I meant with the gold!” Pope stressed, rolling his eyes at his friends’ antics.  

“Well why don’t we get food and then discuss next moves?” JJ asked.  

“I hate to put a damper on the evening but do you think you could drop me off at mine? I don’t feel so great and I’d rather just go home.” You said, climbing into the backseat of the twinkie and resting your head against the window. You were wrapped up in an oversized towel and a blanket but you wanted to get out of your wet bathing suit and get some rest.  

“Of course.” JJ muttered, rolling his eyes.  

“I’m sorry did you fall off a boat?” You did your best glare across the back of the bus at him, annoyed that he would continue to hassle you after you had just fallen into the ocean.  

“I went in after you! And if I had fallen off I would’ve been fine cause I can swim!”  

“Just drop me off please!” You called as John B got in the driver’s side.  

“It might be a concussion; you shouldn’t be alone.” Pope pointed out, frowning when you turned your glare on him.  

“I’ll be fine.” You promised.  

John B drove the twinkie to your house first, letting you out. When he pulled up you pushed the door open and headed for your house, throwing your hand up in a wave. You were still feeling awful and all you wanted to do was get inside, change into warm clothes, and lay down. Your dad was at work still which meant that you had the house to yourself.  

“JJ,” Kiara started to say as you walked up the stairs to your porch.  

“No. Kie, no way.” He snapped, knowing immediately that they were going to try and make him stay with you.  

“Come on.” She insisted.

“Then you go.”  

“I would but I promised my dad I’d help close tonight.” Kiara said.  

“Unbelievable.”  

“JB and I’ll come back with food.” Pope promised, trying to ease JJ’s annoyance.  

“Whatever. I’m still stuck with her.” JJ snapped as he climbed out of the van and made his way to your house. He had already saved you from the ocean, he didn’t understand why he had to go babysit you too.  

He wasn’t the only one annoyed either. You stuck your head out of your bedroom and looked down the hallway as the front door opened and JJ walked into your house.  

“What’re you doing here?” you asked, coming out of your room, changed but still toweling your hair dry.

“John B and Pope are grabbing food and coming back.”  

“And you volunteered to stay behind?” You questioned.

“I wouldn’t say I volunteered.” He replied, walking into the kitchen and rummaging around in the fridge.  

☆

“Why can’t you swim?” JJ asked, sitting on the couch with you scrolling through netflix.  

“What?”

“You live on the beach, you never learned how to swim?”

“No.”  

“How come?”

You shrugged, “when I was like six my mom took me to the highschool for swim lessons and the guy there was teaching us how to hold our breath underwater. I was freaked out about going underwater so he held my head under. I almost drowned.”  

“That’s fucked up.” He said, sitting up a little more to look over at you.  

“Yeah. My mom totally got him fired. But I never got in the water after that.”  

“You should try again.”

“I have. It freaks me out to much.” You replied. There were a few times that you’d tried swimming but it terrified you every time. “I only went today because I didn’t want everyone thinking I was letting them down. But that was really scary.”

“Well, sorry you fell over.” He replied.  

“I mean, it’s not like you pushed me. You even jumped in to save me…definitely not who I expected to be pulling me out of the water.” You admitted.  

“What you thought I’d let you drown?”

“Not like, on purpose.” You had  

“I can’t believe you think I’d let you drown.” JJ protested

“I said you wouldn’t.” You laughed at the offended face that JJ made.  

“It’s the way you said it!” He replied.  

“I didn’t say it any kind of way!”

“That’s it,” JJ announced, “I’m teaching you how to swim now.”  

“No thank you.” You laughed.  

“No, too late, I’ve extended my friendship to you and now you’re gonna have to learn to swim.” He replied, leaning back into the couch and crossing his arms over his chest.  

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Too bad.”  

-

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[dirtyhelen]

with you, a girl could get bolder (i just wanna be a little bit closer) - part three (final)

PART THREE: don’t go, the night’s not over

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Fluff; Smut; Blowjob; Vaginal Fingering; Vaginal Fingering; Creampie

Words: 5767

Summary: Six months later, you and Bucky are ready for a second try at your first time.

A/N: “Part 3 won’t take this long, I promise!” she said. “Part 3 will be up in a few days!” she said. She LIED. (I’m she and I’m very sorry 😂🙈) Thank you again to everyone who liked/replied/reblogged Parts 1 and 2. You are all lovely, wonderful people and I hope you enjoy the final part of this little series 😊

________________________________________________________________

Slipping off your shoes at the door to your apartment, you glance behind you at Bucky, his cheeks and nose a tinted pink from a long afternoon in the summer sun. You’d spent the day together, lazing on a blanket in a secluded spot on the grounds of the compound, reading and talking and trading kisses, while Alpine roamed on her long leash nearby.

Bucky shuts the door and leans back against it but doesn’t take off his shoes or make any indication that he’s staying. And that just won’t do. Not tonight. Tonight, you have a plan. Well, an idea of a plan. Or something to talk about, at least. And step one is getting Bucky to stay over so that can happen.

“You wanna pretend to watch a movie for fifteen minutes then spend the rest of it making out?” you ask, turning to face him with a playful smile. Step one: complete.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you. “Last time you made me that offer you threw popcorn at me and there was no making out.” Okay, step one: almost complete.

“In my defence, I didn’t realize the movie was actually going to be good. And the popcorn was because you kept asking questions!”

“That movie was not good. It didn’t make any sense,” Bucky argues. “And I was promised kisses from my best girl,” he adds with an exaggerated frown that has no business looking as adorable as it does.

Forcing back a smile, you nod as though you’re giving what he said some serious thought. “You’re right. We should skip the movie and go straight to making out.”

Bucky laughs. “Sounds good to me, doll,” he says and pulls you in by the hem of your cardigan for a kiss. You feel his smile against your lips as you press him back against the door for a brief moment before pulling away and leading him to your couch.

Six months later and it still feels like a dream sometimes. You think back to that first night after the quinjet, crying on your bedroom floor, feeling like you’d just ruined your life, and maybe Bucky’s too. You think about where you are now. Standing in your apartment, flirting with Bucky Barnes, kissing Bucky Barnes, all easy warmth and affection.

It feels so simple now, but it took a while to get there. After months of pointless pining and feelings that were only revealed because of a freak accident, you’d both agreed to take things slowly this time around. With inexperience, anxiety, and trauma wedged between you like a minefield, you needed to really get to know each other, to feel truly comfortable together, before adding sex back into the equation. You needed to let the haze of infatuation fall away and see what was underneath.

For a while, in those early days and weeks, you’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like this was too good to be true. Surely something would happen and everything would fall apart. You’d realize the feelings you had were built on versions of each other you’d created in your heads, that the real thing couldn’t possibly live up to the fantasy. And sure, it hasn’t been smooth sailing all the way – no relationship ever is, and you and Bucky have a few extra challenges between you that most couples don’t – but six months in you know that what you have is real, and deserving of your time and effort.

Slowly you’ve gotten to know each other, from shy smiles and stuttering conversations. To chaste kisses and sweaty palms clasped together. To where you are now, heated kisses and wandering hands, developing a language all your own and feeling more and more ready to take on whatever comes next.

Right now you’re hoping whatever comes next is you and Bucky having sex. You’ve been thinking about it seriously for the past couple of weeks and you think you’re ready now. You feel secure, in yourself and your relationship, in a way you couldn’t have imagined six months ago. 

You also feel super horny, in a way you could (and did) imagine six months ago. It’s getting harder and harder to break away from Bucky’s touch at the end of every “movie night”, and you’re going through batteries at an unsustainable pace. Something needs to be done. (Preferably you.)

Despite the certainty you feel in your decision, you’re nervous tonight, but it’s the kind of nervous that comes from trying something new, not the horrible anxiety of constantly worrying the next thing you say or do is going to be the thing that makes Bucky realize you’re not worth the attention he’s paying you. You’re definitely glad that phase has passed.

You take your time, letting the kisses deepen as Bucky gets you on your back, pressed close against you on the couch until you gather the courage to say what’s on your mind. You lean back a little more into the cushion under your head, pulling away from Bucky’s mouth slightly. Always careful never to push when you pull, he presses up on his elbows to look at you.

You huff out a nervous breath, building up to the question you want to ask. For all your confident teasing earlier, this is unfamiliar ground and you can’t help but feel apprehensive, even though you know there’s nothing to be afraid of. Sensing the tension, Bucky lifts his hand to cup your cheek, fingers pulling gently through your hair. “What?” he asks softly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Steeling for it, you look him in the eyes. “Can we – I mean, if you want to – do you want to? Ugh, what is wrong with me?” Bucky’s face is all fond amusement at your fumbling and you cringe, screwing your eyes shut, telling yourself to just spit it out. “Sex. Do you want to have sex?”

Your face burns and you can’t bear to open your eyes, but you feel the surprised puff of breath on your face that tells you whatever Bucky thought you were gearing up to, it wasn’t this. His weight lifts off you entirely as he sits up on the couch and you finally open your eyes. Bucky is wide-eyed and pink-cheeked from more than the sun now, and you sit up to face him fully.

You’ve spent many an evening over the last few weeks tangled together on your couch or his, trading deep, lingering kisses. Often ending up with the hard length of his cock pressed somewhere along your body, and you know he can smell your arousal when it seeps into your underwear. Yet somehow it seems the idea of your physical relationship moving beyond that point seems to be a shock to Bucky.

“I mean, if you don’t want to, I totally under—”

“I want to!” he blurts, a little frantically, and you let out a nervous laugh.

“Are you sure? Because I can totally, totally wait. There’s no rush. I mean, we don’t have to have sex, like, ever, if you don’t want to and –” You’re cut off by the press of Bucky’s lips against yours, quick and clumsy, a last-ditch effort to shut you up. His hands cup your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and you can’t help but moan as he slides his tongue into your mouth to trace along yours.

He pulls away after a too-brief moment but keeps his hold on your face, moving just far enough so you can see each other’s eyes. The heat you see in his gaze has your heart racing.

“Doll. I want to.” Each word is spoken carefully, deliberately, his voice low and slightly rough.

“Okay,” you breathe.

“Okay.”

Neither of you moves, just sitting across from each other, faces inches apart. You open your mouth to speak but realize you were about to say okay again and break down in giggles instead. Bucky can’t help but join and you fall against each other, laughing yourselves breathless.

“I was thinking tonight if you wanted. But if you’re busy or something…” you say, when the laughter finally dies down.

Bucky hums, pretending to think. “My dance card’s pretty full, but I guess I could squeeze you in.”

You smirk. “I mean, technically, I think I’ll be squeezing you in.”

Bucky glowers at you, rolling his eyes, but you can see he’s fighting a smile. “Guess I walked right into that one, huh?”

You nod smugly. “We should probably go to my room now, right?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

You get up, taking Bucky’s hand and leading him to your bedroom. He’s been there before, has even slept beside you in your bed, but his presence in the space feels different this time, weightier now you know he’s not just here to sleep.

Bucky seems to feel the difference too, his eyes tracing over your bed like he’s never seen it before. You follow his gaze as it catches on the small, stuffed owl given pride of place among the various pillows and cushions. He’d won it for you at a game on Coney Island and you’ve slept with it every night since, holding it tight on nights he’s away on assignment.

You have very fond memories of that date. Bucky clutching your hand in his to ground him amidst the bustling crowds. The way he’d kissed you for the first time – the first time that counted – on the ferris wheel and sighed in relief when you kissed him back. “Woulda been a real awkward ride if you’d pushed me away,” he’d laughed. “Might’ve had to jump off.”

You reach to grab the toy off the bed. “Professor Feathersworth should probably spend the evening elsewhere.”

“Good call,” Bucky agrees.

You gently place the toy atop the laundry hamper in your closet and slide the door closed. You turn around and catch a fond look on Bucky’s face as he watches you and you walk over to him and lean in for a kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His find their way to your waist as he walks backward, pulling you along without breaking the kiss, until his knees hit the foot of the bed. He sits and you follow, straddling his thighs as your kisses turn hungry.

Bucky trails kisses across your cheek and down your neck as your hips subtly grind down against his. He starts to tug your cardigan down your arms and you help him, shrugging it off. Your tug impatiently at the bottom of Bucky’s shirt until he lifts his arms, allowing you to pull it up and over his head.

You’ve seen his skin before, but never in this context. It’s strange to think about, but in those frantic, feverish minutes aboard the quinjet he’d been fully clothed, jeans tugged down just enough to free his cock, while you’d been completely naked. That specific memory sends a thrill through you and you file away the thought for later. Right now, you want to appreciate all the skin laid bare for you.

You trace your hands along his torso, the smooth skin and dark hair, the jagged scars. Thick pink lines branch out from his shoulder, where vibranium meets flesh. You shift back on Bucky’s lap and bend your head to press your mouth there, pressing kisses to the raised skin.

You hear his breath catch and you look up at him to find his eyes shiny and wet. You know it bothers him still sometimes – the arm and everything it means. You press another kiss where the scar tissue is thickest, murmur, “I love you,” into his skin.

You lean up, pressing another just over his heart. “I love you.” Then finally to his lips. “I love you.”

Bucky surges forward against you, claiming your mouth in a deep kiss. “I love you too.”

“Good,” you whisper against his lips with a grin. “Now that’s settled…” Your hands fall to the waistband of his jeans and you unbutton them with shaky hands that betray your nerves. You maintain eye contact as you do it, waiting for Bucky to tell you to stop. He doesn’t, so you tug the zipper down as well. You go to pull at the waistband but stop when you realize you won’t make much progress. “Would probably help if I wasn’t sitting on your lap, huh?” you laugh.

Bucky grins. “Yeah, maybe.” You stand up, stepping back and giving him room to lift his hips enough to get his jeans down and off before sitting back down. He reaches for your waist to pull you in but you sink to your knees instead.

You can see Bucky’s pupils dilate and his cheeks flush as he looks down at you. You’ve been thinking about this for ages and you’re hoping he’ll let you try tonight. Your heart feels like it’s in your throat and your palms sweat where they’re clasped in your lap, but you push through it. “If you want, can I maybe try going down on you?” you ask. Your face positively burns as you wait for Bucky’s response.

His hands fall to curve around your cheeks. “You don’t have to, doll, really. I don’t mind,” he says and you know he means it. Bucky would never pressure you into something you didn’t want. You’d told him earlier you didn’t have to have sex ever if he didn’t want to, and you know he’d say the same to you and mean every word.

“I know, Buck. I want to.”

“Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll be able to last if you put your mouth on me.”

You laugh. “I’d be more worried it’ll kill the mood entirely. I’ve never done this before, remember? It’s going to be horrible.”

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. “My dick’s gonna be in your mouth, sweetheart. So long as you don’t bite it off, I think I’m gonna like it.”

Your cheeks heat and you lower your eyes. “You should probably take your underwear off now.”

Bucky nods then reaches behind him to grab a cushion. “For your knees,” he tells you, a little bashful, and for some reason it fills you up with soft affection, has you leaning up to press a quick, firm kiss to his lips before settling the cushion underneath you.

You don’t watch as he removes his underwear, looking away until you see them land somewhere in the corner of your vision. This part of him you’ve only seen once, and you didn’t have much time to study it then. You were too busy begging him to put it inside you.

Now, resting on your knees, you have a perfect view of Bucky’s half-hard cock rising up from dark curls. You just look at first, almost clinical in your curiosity. Your focused stare seems to have some effect on Bucky because you watch him fill and firm, untouched, right in front of your face. 

“Neat,” you breathe out and Bucky laughs, loud and surprised. You look up at him, mock-offended. “What? I’ve never seen this in person before – it’s cool, okay?”

“‘In person?’” he repeats, smirking, and of course that’s what he’d pick up on. “You telling me my girl likes watching dirty movies?” He’s teasing you, enjoying how you stutter and fumble over your response.

“Listen, Barnes,” you sputter out. “We didn’t all grow up in the stone age when you had to carve your own pornography into cave walls.” Bucky snorts. “Some of us had easily accessible, free porn available. And if you don’t shut up you’re not gonna get to experience my horrible attempt at a blowjob!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, holding up his hands in defeat.

Feeling cheeky and brave, you lean forward suddenly and lick a thick line up his cock, base to tip, wiping the amused little grin right off his face. He stutters out a moan at the startling contact. “Fuck, doll, warn a guy.”

“Payback,” you smirk.

“If that’s your idea of revenge, remind me to tease you more often.”

You roll your eyes at him and grip his cock at the base, ready to seriously try now.

You have to admit, it does feel like a job, but not necessarily one you dislike, just one that takes time and practice to master. His cock feels heavy on your tongue, and the pre-cum that spills from the tip is bitter but not as bad as you thought it might be.

You do gag a few times, but Bucky doesn’t push you to take more than you’re able and you focus your attention around the first couple inches, stroking your fingers over the rest. He holds his hand over yours at first, showing you how to touch him – how tightly to grip, how to twist your wrist just how he likes. 

You’re grateful for the instruction, and something about the feeling of his hand – warm and firm over your own, the way it brushes against your lips – sends a rush of arousal through your body.

You try to be mindful of your teeth, but there are definitely a few accidental grazes. You pull off every time to apologize profusely, but Bucky just strokes a thumb over your cheek and tells you not to worry so much, that you’re doing a good job. His praise floods you with pleasure that seeps down your body to settle in your cunt.

He guides you through it, gentle and encouraging, one hand resting in your hair, not tugging or pulling, just stroking softly through the strands. You like the way his fingers clench slightly, almost uncontrollably, when you do something that must really feel good. It sends a burst of pride through you each time. 

It takes a while, but eventually, you sink into something resembling a comfortable rhythm, steady and even. You glance up occasionally to find Bucky’s eyes on you, heavy and hooded as he watches you work.

“Fuck, doll, just like that.” His voice is rough, breathy and low, and you’re shocked back to that cabin on the quinjet, that little image you’d had of him saying that exact phrase, and you can’t help but let out a moan. His reaction to the vibrations running through his cock is divine. He groans, flesh hand clenching in your hair, the other gripping the bedspread. “Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come soon,” he tells you, so you pull off, not sure you’re ready to try swallowing just yet. You leave one hand stroking over his length, just how he showed you, until it happens.

You keep your eyes trained on Bucky’s face as he comes, thirstily drinking in his expression as he thrusts up into your grip. His eyes slip shut and his mouth falls open in a low moan. 

He’s beautiful, open and vulnerable and raw, and you feel powerful knowing it’s because of you. You stroke him through his orgasm until he’s twitching from the sensitivity. You press one last kiss to the tip, getting a hint of cum on your lips that you lick away under Bucky’s heated stare.

“So,” you start, grinning at the way Bucky seems to struggle to pull his gaze from your mouth to look you in the eyes. “How’d I do?” 

He swears softly, glancing down at the mess on his stomach, then back to your lips. “You did good, sweetheart,” he says, fingers settling gently on your face, working over the soreness in your jaw.

You sigh happily and your thighs clench but you pull yourself to your feet, ducking down to kiss Bucky on the nose. “Back in a sec,” you tell him, darting to the bathroom to tidy up, coming back with a wet washcloth for him.

All cleaned up, Bucky tugs you back onto his lap, pressing kisses to your cheeks and forehead. His hands brush against the hem of your dress, rucked up your thighs from their spread over his hips. “Can I?” he asks, pushing the fabric up just an inch before stopping.

You nod your permission and he slowly drags the hem up your legs until it’s gathered at your waist. He pauses again, looking at your face and you nod, raising your arms. He pulls the dress over your head, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you almost completely bare before him.

It’s strange, and not what you expected, but you’re not uncomfortable even under Bucky’s intense stare. His eyes trace over your form, over your thighs and the place between them, up your belly to your breasts. Your nipples harden from the chill of the room and the warmth of his attention. You don’t feel confident exactly, but not shy either.

Just like the first time, your legs are unshaven, your panties are plain cotton, and you’re not bothered by either. But this time it’s not the influence of some strange, experimental drug. This time, you’re simply happy and in love, certain that Bucky loves you back, loves you best just as you are, not trying to be who you think he might want.

And if the hardening length pressed up against you is anything to go by, he doesn’t need you to be hairless as a shark and wearing Victoria’s most uncomfortable secret to find you attractive.

His hands follow the path of his eyes, thumbs stroking gently over your skin and settling under the curves of your breasts. Carefully monitoring your expression he glides his thumbs over your nipples. The skin of the right catches and drags a little in the nicest way, while the left is smooth and cool.

Bucky leans in to kiss you as his hands continue to toy with your body. Soft circles around your nipples, cupping your breasts and feeling the weight in his palms. You gasp into his mouth at the first gentle pinch of his fingers on your nipples, the sensation flowing directly to your clit. Your hips grind down against him and you feel him buck up to meet you.

Pulling you off his lap, Bucky rearranges so you lie on your back with him pressed along your side, leaning up on his elbow. His right hand glides down your belly, stopping at the waistband of your panties.

“Is this okay?”

“Please,” you breathe, nodding.

Bucky’s fingers slip into your underwear. “Tell me if you want me to stop, or do something else,” he says, waiting for your nod before continuing. He strokes over your folds, dipping two fingers into your opening and groaning at the slick there, gathering it on his fingers and dragging it up to your clit.

He makes light, unhurried circles and it feels good, nice, but not quite enough. Thinking of how he’d shown you what to do earlier, you let your hand rest on top of his. Bucky stills immediately and you feel him start to pull away.

You stop him with a gentle grip on his wrist. “No, wait,” you murmur. “It’s good, it’s just –” You guide his fingers back to your clit, pressing down until the pressure’s right. “And maybe –” You nudge so it’s just one finger resting against your clit.

Bucky nods, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Got it,” he says. And he does, finger moving around your clit until you’re breathing heavily in gasps and pants before stopping to tug your panties off. You don’t have time to feel nervous about being completely exposed to him because he’s touching you again, just how you showed him but faster now, as his lips press along your neck.

In just a few more moments you’re coming, hips arching up into Bucky’s hand as you moan. He strokes you through your orgasm, letting up when you twitch away from his fingers.

He kisses your cheek then slides his lips down to your open, panting mouth, slipping his tongue inside. “How’d I do?” he mimics as he pulls back. He’s smirking, the little shit, but his eyes are earnest.

“Not bad,” you say casually, like your heart isn’t racing still.

Bucky’s smirk splits into an evil grin and his fingers wriggle into your sides, tickling you. “Not bad, huh? You sure about that, doll?” You howl with laughter and try to squirm away from him, admitting defeat.

“Fine, fine! It was wonderful, amazing, life-changing!” you shout through yelps and squeals as his fingers continue their assault on your ticklish skin.

Bucky nods, stilling his hands. “Yeah, that sounds more like it.” You roll your eyes fondly as he shifts and you feel him smile against your lips as he leans down to kiss you, filthy and deep, reigniting the heat between your thighs.

“You wanna keep going?” he asks, pulling back just enough to say the words against your lips.

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, definitely.” You know things are moving fast, especially after six months of nothing more than kissing and cuddling, but you want him. You’re ready and you don’t want to go another night wondering what he’ll feel like inside you without that stupid aphrodisiac making everything hazy and blurred.

Bucky moves to rest his weight between your spread thighs and you feel the length of his cock press against your pussy. You can’t help but roll your hips a little, feeling the slick slide of it against your clit, still sensitive from your orgasm. Bucky moans into your mouth and you feel his hand slide between your bodies. You think he’s going to guide himself inside but he lifts his hips instead, muttering a curse.

“Almost forgot. D’you have a condom?” he asks.

You’d forgotten too, actually. You aren’t planning on using one tonight – if Bucky agrees, of course – but you’re glad he remembered and spoke up. You’ve heard too many stories from your friends of guys pressuring them not to use protection and even though you know Bucky’s not like that, it’s nice to have proof.

“I do have condoms,” you tell him. “But I’ve also been on birth control for a while now and I know neither of us has anything, so I thought maybe we could not use a condom? If you’re okay with that.”

The pink flush on Bucky’s cheeks deepens. “Yeah, I’m okay with that,” he says, voice a little ragged. His right hand slides between your bodies, two fingers pressing against your entrance. “Gotta open you up, doll. Don’t wanna hurt you.” 

You nod your head, shuddering out a response as his fingers slip inside. It feels so good, his fingers stretching your walls. He adds a third and thrusts gently, keeping his eyes on your face, looking for any sign of discomfort.

You whine a little when you feel his fingers pulling out but gasp as they’re replaced with the thick head of his cock. He slides the tip up through your folds a few times, slicking himself up before letting it rest just at your opening.

Your eyes clench shut as you wait for the sweet relief filling you up but it doesn’t come. “Look at me,” Bucky orders softly and you open your eyes to find his fixed on yours, serious and intent. “Tell me if it hurts, or if you wanna stop or slow down, whatever.” You nod, eager to feel him inside you. “I’m serious, doll. You wanna stop at any point, you say so, I won’t be mad or anything.”

“I know, Bucky. I will, promise. I love you. I trust you.” You hold his face in your hands, keeping his gaze. “And that goes for you too,” you add. “We can stop any time.” Bucky nods and the tension eases from his expression.

You feel his cock slide against you again before finally you feel it press inside. He enters you with slow, careful thrusts, going deeper each time. You’d started off trading deep, soft kisses, but by the time his cock is entirely buried in your cunt, you’re mostly just breathing into each other’s mouths.

Bucky pauses, holding himself still inside you, letting you get used to the weight and pressure. For as much as the drug had heightened every sensation, it’s somehow so much more intense without it. Nothing to dull the stretch, nothing to cloud your mind with only thoughts of more. Before, there had only been lust and the uncontrollable drive to overcome it.

Now, there’s nothing to distract from the weight of Bucky’s body on top of yours, skin to skin, pressed so closely you can feel his heart beating against your chest. When he finally begins to move, it’s with slow, even strokes, face pressed into the curve of your neck.

The sensations are almost overwhelming. The first time had been good, had been more pleasure than you knew could be experienced. But this is something else entirely. 

As grateful as you are that it was Bucky with you on that quinjet, you’re not sure how much it would have mattered once the chemical kicked in. By the time you were tearing your own clothes off, you weren’t really thinking about Bucky at all, just what he could do to your body. 

Now there’s a connection. Now you know what he looks like when he sleeps. How he sounds when he’s angry, or scared. How he can’t help but mouth the words with his lips when he reads, and how he can sing along to Taylor Swift just as well as you can.

All those little details that add up to the person you love. It makes this more than sex, more than just bodies moving together for their own pleasure.

For as much as the term makes you cringe, you finally understand what it means to make love. You’ll be damned if the phrase comes out of your mouth in anything approaching sincerity, but you get it.

You and Bucky move together, your hips rocking to meet his thrusts, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He feels so good inside you, his cock moving in a smooth glide. Time and space seem to drift away until it’s just you and Bucky and the heat building in your core, ratcheting you higher and higher with every thrust.

Bucky pants above you, his hips moving faster against yours as he nears his own climax. His hand moves to your clit, finger circling just right as his thrusts start to lose their rhythm. You feel it when he comes, moaning out above you, pushing deep inside you as his cock pulses. He keeps up the motion on your clit and it’s only a few moments before you’re following, pussy clenching around him as you gasp, your head thrown back against the pillows.

You lie there for a few moments, Bucky’s body heavy on top of you, his breath hot on your neck as he grinds against you lazily, pulling the last aftershocks of pleasure from you both. Eventually, his cock softens inside you and he pulls out, pressing a kiss to your lips before turning over onto his back. You roll over on your side to face him, taking in his appearance. 

His messy hair and red cheeks, his kiss-swollen lips and the glisten of sweat on his chest and arms. He looks fucking obscene. If your bones didn’t feel like jello you’d probably be climbing on top of him for round two.

Neither of you speaks, and you take a moment in the silence to do a quick emotional inventory. You suspect Bucky is doing the same. After all, it wasn’t the during that went wrong the first time, it was the after. You’re very pleased to note that emotionally, you feel just fine. Better than fine. You feel happy. Happy you took this leap, happy to be lying boneless and satisfied next to Bucky, looking forward to countless evenings ahead of you just like this.

There’s no shame or anxiety or regret, and the absence of all those horrible emotions that consumed you after the first time has you feeling almost giddy. You can’t help the wide grin that forms on your face or the joy that bursts out of you in a laugh. Bucky’s head turns toward you at the sound, and he looks at you with a matching grin and questioning brow. Giving you space to lead the way.

“Well,” you start, schooling your expression into something more serious, to middling success. “I don’t know about you, but I think that went pretty well.” You’re teasing, and you’re pretty sure he feels the same, but you really do want to check in.

Luckily, your suspicions are correct. Bucky huffs out a short laugh, settling into a soft smile. “No complaints from me, doll,” he says, sincere and playful all at once.

You lean in for a kiss, smiling against his mouth. Bucky tugs you closer, holding your face in his hands and licking into your mouth, slow and sweet. “I mean seriously, Barnes, that was some excellent teamwork.”

“Yeah, a real A+ effort.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Could probably use some more data though, before we jump to any conclusions.”

“Right,” Bucky nods thoughtfully. “Really ought’a increase the sample size before we make any judgments.”

“Exactly!” you say, just as your stomach lets out a loud, extended growl, practically echoing in the space between your bodies. You grimace. “Maybe after some takeout.”

“God, yes,” he groans. “I’m fucking starving.”

+++

An hour later you and Bucky are eating pizza on your couch, watching reruns of the Great British Bake Off. Exactly like that first night six months ago, and completely different, too.

Six months ago it was all polite conversation and careful distance, tip-toeing around each other, so protective of the delicate new something you’d just discovered together.

Now, Bucky’s feet are on your lap and you reach over him to steal peppers from his pizza. You talk over and around each other and when silence falls, it’s comfortable. You eat with all the grace of the Hulk assembling a jigsaw puzzle and Bucky belches just to see you glare in response.

If building a relationship is like building a house, you and Bucky are laying the foundation. You’re still protective of each other, of that not-new-but-still-fresh something, but it doesn’t feel so delicate anymore. The foundation feels solid beneath you. Strong enough to be tested and made stronger still in the aftermath. Strong enough to build on and solid enough to remain even if rough winds blow everything else away.

After all, it was rough winds that brought you together in the first place.

A/N: THE END. I hope this was a satisfying ending to this Bucky and Reader’s story. Feel free to leave a like, reply, reblog, etc. and let me know what you thought! I’m very open to feedback, especially since this is my first multi-part work. (I’ve definitely learned that I want to have things completely written before I start posting next time lol.)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #reader insert #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #series

[wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl]

hey! could i possibly request a blaine one shot where the reader is another girl working on the ski patrol with blaine and they absolutely hate each other, but one day they get stuck in a snowstorm during work and end up lost for a few days? and during those few days they just get more and more lied up with each other until they just end up hate-fucking our in the open? it can end however, but i’ve been dying for some blaine action🥰🥰thank you💕

Thank you so much nonnie! I enjoyed writing this so much. I hope you enjoy it too!

Warnings: Fat Shaming, smut, slight bullying.

If there are any misspellings I’m sorry! I wrote this all on tumblr and didn’t get a time to proofread it in a different document.

Ice, Ice, Baby.

_______________________________________________

You walked to the cafe for hot chocolate at seven o’clock in the morning to prepare for your shift. It wasn’t easy being on ski patrol, that’s for sure.

Dads always tried hitting on you while you were trying to watch their wives kids struggle to learn the most basic of skiing. You just nodded in agreement and smiled a little to get through the conversations. Wouldn’t wanna get written up for being “rude” to a paying member of the resort. It wasn’t always so bad, some of the dads were kind of cute, and they always tipped well if you just did the bare minimum of looking good and reacting to their advances. You weren’t even supposed to get tipped, but that didn’t stop them. However, you didn’t enjoy watching their wives glare at you around dinner time. You could always feel their eyes burning into the back of your head.

Although you absolutely loathed the attention from the dad’s (besides the occasional tip), there was one reason why you absolutely dreaded going to work every day.

Blaine. You could say he was the Blaine of your existence. Shitty dad jokes always crept into your head due to how much time you end up spending with them.

You had tried being nice the first couple of weeks into the job, only to be met with incredible amounts of misogyny and downright assholeishness. God, you hated him. It was so unlike you to hate anyone, but the kid was ruthless.

He always made nasty remarks about the way you look, whether it was your facial features or your weight, he had it covered. Even though he always tried to get his friends to join in on the action, they never did. Everyone else liked you at the resort. Blaine was the only problem.

You made your way up to your snowmobile, tredging in the deep snow with your backpack and snow shoes on. You secured your hot chocolate and your backpack before riding it all the way up to your post. The post wasn’t too bad by itself. It was close to a nearby cabin in case of emergencies, stocked with food, with working water and electricity to last for up to a month. Even longer if it was less than 4 people.

You finally arrived at your post, hoping Blaine wouldn’t be there yet.

He was.

Fuck.

“You’re looking plump today y/n, more than usual. Must be from all the hot chocolate you’ve been drinking” he said laughing to Chaz. Chaz just rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. You could tell.

“Ha ha Blaine, you’re so original. It’s not like I’ve heard that one before yesterday. Or the day before that. Or the day before that.”

“Yeah, well I think saying it everyday is a good reminder. Maybe I’ll see you in the resort gym one day because of it.”

“Why? Is it cause ya wanna see my tits bounce in a sports bra? Get ya all hot and bothered?”

Blaine just gritted his teeth in response. You could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t cause he didn’t want to give you the wrong idea. Or the right idea.

Blaine always had a pretty girl on his arm. You doubt he was attracted to you, but you say those things because it shuts him up every time.

You bundled up extra today. The news said there was a possibility of a snow storm, but it was highly unlikely. Still, the wind chill was extremely cold today, making you double up on the clothes underneath your snow suit. You wore a beanie, mittens, and a scarf too, just in case.

You and Chaz chatted for a while, Blaine giving you resentful side glances and a few eye rolls here and there to show his detest towards your interaction. God, what was his fucking problem?

At about noon, Chaz took his lunch, leaving you and Blaine alone for at least a half an hour.

Silence filled the mountains. Barely anyone was out on the slopes due to the potential storm coming, but that didn’t stop your job from making you go out anyways.

The silence was broken with a call from the walkie talkies. It was your manager, Janice.

“Get off the slopes, news just confirmed one of the worst snow storms to hit this side of the mountain in three years. I repeat ge-“

The walkie talkies went silent. The wind began to pick up, starling both you and Blaine. You acted quickly, knowing this could be a life or death situation. You both hopped on your snowmobiles to get to the cabin nearby. Unfortunately, Blaines wasn’t working. You quickly shouted “Get on!” Reluctantly, Blaine hopped on the back of your snowmobile. Thank god it was his snowmobile that wasn’t working. You’re not so sure Blaine would’ve rescued you if it was your snowmobile that died and not his.

You reached the cabin just in time, the snow finally picking up with the wind. You quickly grabbed the keys from your snowmobile and stuck them in the front door.

“Hurry! Jesus Christ we’ll die at this rate!”

“I’m trying asshole! Stop yelling at me!”

The door finally swung open. You and Blaine rushed inside, aggressively slamming the door behind you and locking it.

Both catching your breath while clutching onto your things, you made eye contact.

Of course you thought.

Of course I’m stuck with the one goddamn person who hates me in the middle of one of the biggest snowstorms of the decade.

Blaine didn’t hold back what he was thinking.

“Great, I’m stuck with Fat Albert with minimal supplies. We’ll be out of food by tomorrow.”

You scowled at him snd stood up.

“THAT’S IT. First of all, I’m not fat. Second off, even if I was, that is none of your goddamn business to make comments on it. I have fat on my body. Just because I’m not the twink of the century like you doesn’t mean I should be degraded for it. We are stuck here for god only knows how long. If you just shut up I’m sure we can make it through this. But you’ve got to stop being such a fucking asshole to me all the time.”

Blaine just stood there and rolled his eyes again at your response. At least he didn’t open his loud mouth.

Such a fucking drama queen.

_______________________________________________

As the sun began to set, your stomach started to growl, loudly. You resisted eating all day due to Blaines comments, but you knew you had to eat at some point.

You gathered the courage to make your way into the kitchen to look around.

Thank god they keep this up to date regularly.

There were tons of cans of different soups, ravioli, spaghetti, fruits and vegetables, and non-perishables that would keep you sustained for a long time. Especially with only two people being in the cabin.

You decided to microwave some of the ravioli. Just as you opened the microwave door, it shut again with a hand directly planted on the glass.

“Well well well, what do we have here? Is two ton Tony looking for a little snack?” Blaine said in a mocking tone.

“Fuck off Blaine. It’s dinner time, I’m hungry and I know you are too. You just haven’t eaten yet to prove a damn point and humiliate me. Now if you don’t shut up I will eat all the food and make sure you starve to death.”

He grimaced at your response and walked to a cupboard to look for food of his own. Thank god. You swore you were five seconds away from giving him a swift punch to the face.

You both ate your dinners in separate rooms. You didn’t want to interact with each other more than you had to.

After a few more hours of existing in separate rooms, you decided you wanted to fall asleep for the night. You casually walked into the bedroom, having absolutely no pajamas to change into, you figured you would either sleep with the clothes you had on or just sleep in your underwear. There were enough blankets to keep you warm if you did end up choosing the latter. As you walked into the room you noticed something horrible.

There was only one bed.

How could this even be possible? There were supposed to be four, as most times three to four people were on ski patrol.

Then you remembered three out of the four beds were taken out two months ago, as they were desperately disgusting. The shipments for the new beds hadn’t come in yet, figuring a situation like this wouldn’t even happen at all.

Go figure.

You decided since you got to the bedroom first, you’d have the bed. Fuck Blaine, he’d been an asshole to you the entire time you’ve known him, he can sleep on the damn couch.

You began to strip, thinking it was wise not to smell up the two sets of clothes you had to last you for god only knows how long.

You ended up sleeping in a bra and underwear. Normally you wouldn’t have even worn the bra, but considering Blaine was in the building and you couldn’t lock the bedroom door, you figured it was the safest bet.

As you crawled into bed you heard footsteps heading towards the bedroom.

Here we go.

Blaine entered, looking just as bewildered as you did when you found out there was only one bed.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You ignored his comment, simply rolling over under the covers.

He stormed over to the bed and ripped the blanket off, revealing your half-naked body in the process.

You became infuriated.

“Hey!!! Do you fucking mind!” You said screaming and grabbing for the blanket.

Blaine stood there in a daze for several seconds, not expecting to see as much as he was planning on seeing.

Thank god I had my bra on.

You expected Blaine to have a comeback to seeing your body. Something about a beached whale ending up in the bed, or anything along those lines. Surprisingly, he didn’t. He had nothing to say at all. He just turned around and slammed the door behind him.

What the fuck was his issue? Whatever it was, he better fix it fast. Your patience was running thin, and it was only day one.

_______________________________________________

Several days had gone by, and the snowstorm wasn’t slowing down at all.

Blaine had ignored you at all costs. If he had to interact with you, he always made some snide comment under his breath. This somehow pissed you off even more. At least before you didn’t have to guess what he was thinking, he said it directly to your face. Now, you had no clue what he was saying about you. God it made your blood boil.

It was around lunchtime again when you saw him. You had chosen to eat chicken noodle soup that day, as you had been colder that day compared to most others.

On your way out of the kitchen, you bumped into Blaine.

You heard him make a comment under his breath again, something alone the lines of “.......fucking bitch.......where you’re goin.”

You had had enough.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He was taken aback by your abrasiveness. Nonetheless, he still had a response to your question.

“I said, watch where the hell you’re going you fucking bitch.” He enunciated slowly, in a condescending manner.

You were done.

“I’ve had enough of this fucking bullshit Blaine. Why the hell do you hate me so much? What the hell did I ever do to you?”

“Your looks have insulted me from the day I met you. I learned all that I needed to know by just looking at you.”

Out of no where, you decided to shove him. You shoved him so hard he hit the wall behind him.

He looked confused and offended.

“Did you just shove me?”

“I don’t know, did I just shove you? Or did you trip over your enormous fucking ego?”

Blaine stood up tall and pinned you to the wall.

He looked you dead in the face, his eyes piercing into you with anger and something else...

You returned his stare, hopefully having the same effect on him that he was having on you.

After staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, Blaine kissed you, hard.

You resisted, you resisted so much but your head didn’t have anywhere to go. After a few seconds you gave into the kiss, slowly moving your lips with his. You hated to admit it, but his lips were so soft. It was like kissing clouds surrounding the gates to heaven.

Finally, Blaine pulled back and began staring into your eyes once more. Again, you lept at each other. You grabbed his hair and the side of his face, while he grabbed your hair and your ass to hike up your leg against his hip. Your lips were on each other in no time, sucking and pulling on both his lips and his tongue.

God you were so turned on.

You hated that he made you feel this way but fuck if he wasn’t good. He felt so goddamn good.

He hoisted you up against the wall, your legs wrapping around his hips as you continued to aggressively make out like the two horny twenty-one-year-olds you were. After kissing for five minutes straight, Blaine put you down so you could both remove your pants.

You spoke first “We don’t tell anyone about this.”

Blaine just nodded in agreement, eager to put his cock inside of you.

He hoisted you up against the wall for a second time, wasting no time shoving his cock into your pussy.

“Ohhhh fuck Blaine... go slow go slow...”

You also hated to admit it, but he wasn’t lacking in at least one department.

He smirked, knowing it was too much for you in such a short amount of time.

“What’s wrong y/l/n, can’t get fucked right either?”

“Maybe if you fucked me better I wouldn’t have to complain so much.”

All the talking had allowed time for your pussy to become soaked. Blaine could feel how wet you were. He also noticed how tight you were.

“Fuck, your pussy has been this tight the entire time and you never told me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ just shut up and fuck me before I change my mind Blaine.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He also took it upon himself to take that as the cue to go as fast as he needed to.

He started pumping in and out of you at a rapid pace, making absurdly loud slapping noises in the process.

You couldn’t help but moan into his neck, his name on your lips every ten seconds.

“Fuck, fuck , fuck Blaine don’t stop! Oh god don’t fucking stop.”

He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth like that. In all honesty, Blaine has wanted to fuck you since the day he met you. He suppressed that lust with crude comments, hoping the feelings would subside. Guess that didn’t work out too well.

“Yeah you like that baby? Huh? Like that I’m fucking your pretty pussy?”

“Oh god yes Blaine! Fuck me harder!”

He wasted no time, pounding into you as fast and as hard as he could. You couldn’t help but let your eyes roll in the back of your head as he fucked you so good you thought you were about to see God himself.

Blaine loved seeing you like this, drained by him fucking you relentlessly. In fact, he loved it so much he felt the need to repress his feelings once again, which would be his last effort in trying to do so.

“I still fucking hate you, oh god, oh fuck.”

You looked at him, dead in the eyes, and said “Bold words coming from a man who’s cock is in me.”

All he could do was smile, going in for another kiss while he continued to plow you.

Both of your moans filled the cabin, screaming with no shame, knowing for a fact no one would hear you.

You felt a tight coil forming in your lower stomach, causing you to hold onto Blaine’s shoulders tighter.

“Oh fuck Blaine, I’m gonna cum, oh god I’m gonna cum.”

Blaine took it upon himself to whisper more comments in your ear as you reached your climax together.

“Goddamn right you’re gonna cum on my cock. This is my pussy. No one else gets to touch it, just me. Cum for me baby, you can do it.”

You both screamed as you came, Blaine unintentionally spilling his seed into you. Thank god you remembered to bring your birth control pill.

Just as you two were coming down from your high, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye.

Not something, but someone.

It was Chaz.

You hadn’t noticed while you were fucking, but the snow had cleared up enough just for a one person rescue party. Chaz had come in just moments ago. However, he didn’t say anything. He really didn’t have anything to say. He was stunned.

As you both stared at Chaz, you were the first to speak.

“Well, fuck.”

#hot tub time machine #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan #Blaine/reader #Blaine x reader

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

March Ado About Nothing

Series Summary - A series of one-shots and  drabbles written based off of prompts posted in the TSS Fanworks Collective server. The goal is to take traditional whump prompts and fill them in the least-angsty way possible every day through March.

A note that though some of these fills are written bait and switch style (written in a way you think is going in one direction but reveals it to be the opposite towards the end) they are all written in a fluffy or silly style with very little, if any at all, actual angst.

Day 1: Hold Me Close

Summary ;  Roman doesn't want to let go of Virgil. Virgil doesn't really mind.

Prompts: Branding, Car Accident, *Failed Escape*

Ships: Platonic or romantic Prinxiety (Roman & Virgil)

Warnings: none. Let me know if there are!

General taglist (ask to be added or removed): @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi  @im-an-anxious-wreck (If you are tagged please reblog)

WC: 590

Virgil awoke with a gasp, tensing as he felt the shackles around him tighten ever so slightly. He held his breath as his heart slowed down little by little while his wide eyes scanned the room for threats. Shadows clung to the corners of the room like inky webbing and he could just barely make out the early morning sun trying its best best to pierce through curtains that should have been cleaned ages ago. His back was twisted uncomfortably, full weight resting on his arm which had gone completely numb as some point during the night. Evening? He wasn’t sure when he had laid down to sleep, only that he was here now and he desperately needed to get free as quickly as possible.

Wiggling proved to be nearly impossible as he really only managed to tangle himself further, the bindings around his legs just growing frustratingly more secure the more he tried to kick. The shackles around his chest tightened even further as he grunted with exertion, finally letting out a sigh and wiggling back enough that he could reach around to try and untangle himself from the source of his distress. Too late he realized his attempt to escape had failed as he was pressed close to a warm chest and strong arms pinned him decisively in place.

“Mm, you move around too much.” Hot breath made the hairs on the back of Virgil’s neck stand on end and his face burned at the short laugh he let out as he was tickled.

“Come on, Princey. I need to pee.”

“Pee later, it’s warm.”

“And it’s about to get even warmer so scooch.”

He grinned at the mock sound of disgust before finding himself suddenly on the floor with his legs still tangled in the blankets back up on the bed.

“So not only are you a traitor, but also a thief! Give those back it’s cold!”

“It isn’t my fault you kick them to the bottom every night doing whatever it is you call sleep.” Virgil’s legs thumped to the floor to join the rest of him as Roman gasped in offense above him.

“It’s called beauty rest; not that you would know Mr. The-eyebags-are-an-aesthetic-choice!”

“Prince of Smell-Air.”

“Dead Ghoul Walking!”

“Rip-off Disney Wanna-Be!”

“You take that back!” The other shrieked as he made a bee-line for the bathroom, not quite making it inside before being pelted over the head with a pillow as he tried to push the door shut. “Is it too much to ask that morning antics are kept to a minimum until everyone’s alarm has gone off?” Logan’s chiding voice distracted Roman long enough that hh could finally get the door shut, throwing the lock and leaning against it to catch his breath. Moments later a light thump was heard, followed by a sigh and the sound of a door shutting. Smirking, Virgil pushed off the door to actually go to the bathroom, finishing quickly and cautiously making his way back out- only to be picked up even as he let out an embarrassing squeak in protest and found himself back in bed tucked under an arm in mere seconds.

“No escaping, it’s cold.”

“I did get out though.” Virgil pointed out stubbornly as he snuggled further into the now righted blankets.

“Not for long.” Roman’s chin settled on top of his head and within no time he was back to snoring, making Virgil smile fondly and turn more into the other’s chest.

“Never for long.” He agreed, closing his eyes himself.

Next

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#false writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #prinxiety #drabble #fluff #cuddling #march ado about nothing #light hearted name calling #virgil sanders #roman sanders

[grace-lightwoodd]

We suffer for love because love is worth it (closure part 2)

Part one: xxx

Ship: Jordelia

Prompt list: xxx

James hadn’t left the house since he sent the letters. He had to be home when Cordelia got back. He needed to explain everything to her, he needed to make things right. But was that even possible?

He wanted nothing more than to be married to her for real. It was all he thought about, all he dreamt about. But because of his own stupid decisions, he might never get that.

Lord, how could he have been so blind, so stupid? How could he have said—to her face—that he didn’t love her?

We suffer for love because love is worth it, his father had said. But James thought that he had suffered enough, and that he deserved to know what happiness felt like. Of course, only if Cordelia felt the same way. He wouldn’t force her into a situation she wasn’t comfortable with.

It was the middle of the night, and James hadn’t slept in days. He was trying to read, but his eyes wouldn’t focus on the words in front of him. His eyelids were heavy, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he tried to. Not until he talked to Cordelia. The only thing he had gotten himself to consume was the tea in front of him, which he was pretty sure that Effie had spat in.

The door clicked open, then shut. “James?”

He knew that voice. It was the voice that had pulled him from the shadow realm on several occasions. He would never tire of hearing that voice.

James jumped up from his seat. Was she really home? He quickly scrambled down the stairs to see Cordelia, holding the letters he had sent.

She looked desperately lost, and it broke James’ heart. Nobody should have to feel lost in their own home.

“Daisy,” he said, breathless. “I—“

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice tight. “James, you don’t love me.”

His response was instant. “Yes, I do. And I think I always have.”

Still, Cordelia hesitated, looking at him with wide eyes; she was skeptical, and rightfully so. James was sure he would be too, if he was in her position.

“In my letters,” he said carefully, “I told you of the bracelet. I know it sounds insane, but—“

“We live in a world where insanity is our everyday life. We’ve dealt with insanity before, and we’ll do it again. We will figure this out, James.”

“I really am sorry,” he said, his voice cracking on the last word. “For everything. I was so incredibly stupid that I ruined my chances with you.”

“Not— not completely, I think,” said Cordelia, turning away to hide her face.

“I—what?”

Her cheeks burned red as she met his eye again. “I don’t think... I don’t think you’ve ruined your chances. Don’t get me wrong, you really screwed up, but I think this could work. I love you, James.”

Before James could comprehend the words that had fallen from Cordelia’s mouth, she rushed forward and pulled him into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, a blanket of comfort and security seemed to wrap around them; they were safe. They would always be safe as long as they had each other.

For what quite possibly could have been the first time in his life, James was happy. Really, truly happy. His father’s words echoed in James’ mind: We suffer for love because love is worth it. James had suffered enough, but he would gladly go through it again if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life with Cordelia.

They had both had their fair share of suffering in their short lives. Now, this was their time to put away that pain and bask in the glory of their newfound love.

As a shadowhunter, James never knew what each day would bring. All he did know was that he would always have Cordelia by his side, and he would always be by hers.

Tag list (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

@writeforjordelia @ohcoolnice @tati813

#chain of iron spoilers #coi spoilers #choi spoilers #chain of iron #the last hours #tlh #tsc #coi #cordelia carstairs #james herondale #jordelia #jordelia fanfic

[splendidly-secret-sick-fics]

THANKS FOR ANSWERING MY PROMT I LOVE IT CAN'T WAIT FOR PART 2!!

The Biggest Idiot of All Idiots: A Miya twins sickfic (Part 2)

Characters: sick Atsumu, caretakers Osamu & Mama Miya (lol)

Word Count: 2,418

Warnings: swearing, vomiting, and Miya-family fluff

Part 1

————————————————————

I’M SO EXCITED THAT YOU LIKED IT!! YAY!

I’m back with Part 2 a lot sooner than expected. So yay me. I did this instead of working. Oops.

————————————————————

Osamu was lulled into a sense of false security.

Atsumu slept for over an hour. With how out of it and overheated Atsumu was earlier, it was no surprise that he zonked the minute his head hit the pillow.

So Osamu thought, maybe there was no other shoe. Maybe his twinstincts were wrong this time. He even felt good enough about this deduction that he told his mom to stay out and finish her errands. That he had things under control.

It only took another twenty minutes for him to fully regret that decision.

The video game he was playing, mindless though it was, kept him distracted from the fast devolving situation on the top bunk right above him. It wasn’t until Tsumu called his name weakly that he registered that the whimpering he’d been hearing for the last 20 minutes was his brother and not the video game.

“Samu,” Atsumu wheezed. The sound of his ragged breaths dropped a small rock of worry into Osamu’s stomach, but he tried to remain calm; to ignore his gut. Maybe if he did, things would be fine. He didn’t need to blow things out of proportion when it came to Atsumu, the self-titled Biggest Drama Queen.

“What?” He called, continuing his game.

“Too...too loud,” Atsumu moaned.

“The volume is barely loud enough for me to hear. Don’t be so dramatic,” Osamu replied.

“No…” his voice shook, “it’s pound-pounding.”

Osamu rolled his eyes, but turned the volume down nonetheless.

“Anything else, Princess?”

“Hot...s’hot… les go go insi-inside,” Atsumu whimpered. At that, Osamu immediately went on high alert. They were inside, had been inside for a couple hours now. He should know that.

In one swift movement, he paused his game and hopped onto his bed to check on Atsumu. The rock of anxiety quickly turned into a boulder at his twin’s appearance.

Atsumu was panting, his breaths shallow, and his face was an almost ashen grey color, save for the red flush spread across his cheeks. He was curled into a tight ball, his arms wrapped around his stomach protectively. Worse than anything else, the unmasked pain that was etched into every inch of his face made Osamu grab at his own stomach, suddenly very sick with worry.

“Tsumu,” he said gently, because Atsumu was dramatic, yes, but those theatrical tendencies stemmed from an obscene amount of anxiety that he shoved deep into the locked safe of his mind. Calm, soothing, gentle, those were the things Osamu needed to be right now.

“Hey, Tsumu, look at me,” he demanded as softly as possible. He reached for Atsumu and put a hand on his cheek. Atsumu winced away, but not quickly enough for Osamu to miss the heat radiating off of him. He cursed under his breath.

“Samu, wanna go inside,” Atsumu nearly slurred. Osamu bit his lip. Slurring was absolutely no good.

“We are inside, Tsumu,” he tried, putting a comforting hand on Atsumu’s quivering shoulders.

“‘S too hot,” came the reply. Osamu jumped off his bed and crossed the room to turn on the ceiling fan.

“Can ya tell me what else is wrong?” Osamu asked when he got back to Atsumu’s side. He ran his hand through Atsumu’s hair like their mom did. Like he did when they were kids.

Atsumu shook his head, “I feel ba-bad.”

In that moment, all Osamu could see was his stupid, sniveling little brother upset and in need of consoling because some jackasses on their elementary volleyball team called him mean names. The trembling, crying, whining teenager before him resembled nothing more than that little kid who hadn’t learned how to ignore other people’s opinions yet. It brought every ounce of protectiveness that Osamu held for his brother flooding forward with full force.

“Okay, alright. Hey, it’s fine, Tsumu. ‘M gonna help ya. Just hold on,” Osamu got off his bed and grabbed his phone. He needed to get his mom home to help. He also needed to bring down Atsumu’s fever. His brain told him he needed to get the sweatshirt off his brother and try and get him into a cool bath.

As he climbed the ladder to get to Atsumu on the top bunk, he called his mom.

“Hey, sweetie! What’s u—“

“Ma, come home now,” Osamu interrupted, trying to convey the urgency of the situation quickly.

“Osamu? What’s wrong? Is yer brother o—“

“No, Ma. No. He’s got a wicked fever and he’s hurtin’ but I don’t know why. I can’t help him because I don’t know why. I don’t know what’s hurtin’ him,'' Osamu reeled. Talking to his mom, he noticed, for the first time, the knot in his throat and the burning of tears behind his eyes.

“Okay. Calm down, Samu. I’ll be home as quickly as I can. In the meantime, just keep him calm and cool, alright?”

Osamu nodded, took a centering breath and squeezed himself between Atsumu’s back and the wall.

“Alright. Okay. See you soon.”  He hung up and turned his attention back to his brother. The warmth coming off of him was palpable. He steeled himself and put a hand on Atsumu’s arm.

“Tsumu, I’m gonna pull ya upright, okay? Gotta get this sweatshirt offa ya,” he said as steadily as he could. Atsumu only whined in response.

He took that as a go ahead though and gently eased Atsumu into a seated position. As soon as he was upright and before Osamu could even blink, Atsumu’s stomach gurgled, his cheeks puffed out and he forcefully vomited all over his bed.

(Osamu thanked every god ever that he sat adjacent to Atsumu, and not in front of him.)

“Shit, Atsumu!” He exclaimed. If Atsumu heard it, he didn’t register it. He only heaved again, wheezing and hacking. Sympathy pains rattled Osamu’s chest at the sight and his stomach turned over itself.

“Sam—“ Atsumu tried, grasping at his brother’s arm frantically. He was cut off by another mouthful of green puke exiting his mouth violently. Osamu grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed.

“It’s alright, Tsumu, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to. Just get it up, okay? I’m here,” he soothed. The hand not holding Atsumu’s found his twin’s sweaty, shivering back and rubbed calmly between his shoulder blades.

Atsumu gagged again, his whole body shuddering and Osamu’s face contorted in sympathy.

“Fuck, Tsumu. How’d you get so sick so quick?”

Atsumu belched wetly in response. Nothing more came up, thankfully. His head hung limply over his lap, which was unfortunately covered in puke, and he panted, catching his breath.

Osamu let him calm down for a minute or two and surveyed the mess in front of him. Almost the entirety of the top bunk was covered in vomit and there was absolutely no way that Osamu could get his brother off the bed without dragging him through the mess. Not even he was that cruel.

Atsumu whimpered and Osamu returned his attention to him.

“Samu, ‘m sorry, I didn-- it jus--,” he cut himself off with a whimper. Osamu heard that subtle crack in his twin’s voice that signaled a bigger break down on the way. He needed to prevent that  meltdown, or it would just make things worse.

“Hey, no it’s fine,” Osamu reassured,  “Obviously it wasn’t on purpose, ya idiot. Don’t cry or it’ll make things worse.” He hugged Atsumu, trying hard to ignore the vomit that was inevitably going to get all over his shirt.

Atsumu shook his head and whined again.

“Tsumu, really. It’s alright, okay. ‘S not even that bad.” Atsumu inhaled shakily, whimpered as he did so. This wasn’t working.

“For real. ‘Member that time I puked all over the living room? We were watchin’ a movie with the team and I was already sick, but insisted that I wasn’t? Then I got squeamish durin’ the gorry part and threw up everywhere. You and Kita-san had to drag me to the bathroom. That was way worse than this,” he offered, cringing at the memory. Maybe his own embarrassment would lessen Atsumu’s.

“Here, it’s just me and I already know yer a disgustin’ piece of crap. This ain’t gonna change my opinion at all,” he finished. Thankfully, Atsumu chuckled a little and Osamu knew that he was in the clear. At least for now.

He pulled his brother away from his chest and used the bottom of his already ruined shirt to wipe off his face.

“Got quite the fever, there, Tsumu,” he sighed.

“I really don’t fee-feel good…” Atsumu muttered, breathless and hoarse.

“No shit, idiot.” Atsumu only frowned deeper in response.

“I need ya to sit here for just a sec, okay? Just gotta get these nasty ass sheets off the bed and then I’ll help ya down. You should take a cool bath to get yer temp down.” Osamu carefully gathered the blanket and took it down the ladder. He grabbed the trash can in the corner of the room and handed it up to Atsumu before taking the soiled material to the guest bathroom where he plopped it in the bathtub with a sickening splat.

Before he went back into his room to face his sick brother, Osamu took a second to collect himself. He dropped down to his knees, holding onto the bathroom sink for stability and inhaled slowly.

Atsumu was really sick. It wasn’t a usual occurrence (usually it was Osamu who got hit first; Atsumu cared too much about missing volleyball and was a borderline germaphone because of it) but it’s not like it’s never happened before. It was just so…shocking. Osamu needed to find some sense of grounding and push aside his worry for a little to be more effective at helping his brother until their mom got home.

When he felt calmer, he went back to their room, only to find Atsumu heaving into the trash can.

“Tsumu…” Osamu frowned.

“Samu,” Atsumu cried, “I feel-feel so bad. I just want to-want to sleep.”

“I know,” Osamu said, crawling back onto the top bunk. He rubbed Atsumu’s back again and waited for the spell to pass.

“Let’s get ya cleaned up, okay?”

It wasn’t a fun process and Osamu would have punched Atsumu more than once if he wasn’t so sick, but eventually and after much struggle, Osamu got himself and Atsumu cleaned up. At some point, their mom got home and started gathering all the necessities for the Certified Atsumu-is-a-Whiny- Baby-When-He’s-Sick package in their room (it included the latest manga, his baby blanket, those nasty green sports drinks, and a few other things that the Princess desired).

Osamu sat in the bathroom with Atsumu while he cooled down in the bathtub, though his twin told him he could leave. He made up some excuse about making sure that he didnt drown and sat against the wall of the bathroom.

With the curtain shut and Atsumu currently calm and not puking, Osamu allowed himself to relax for a bit. He didn’t realize how much tension he held in his shoulders and jaw until then and slowly loosened everything up. He scoffed at himself. Atsumu was the only person in the world that could make Osamu that tense with worry and yet still pissed him off to the point that he was practically begging to get punched in the face.

About half an hour later, Miya-san and Osamu settled Atsumu into the bottom bunk (“no freakin’ chance you can sleep in yer own bed, Tsumu. We ain’t cleaning up the top bunk again”). A thermometer hung out of his mouth limply while he pouted.

Even before the thermometer beeped, Osamu could tell his fever was lower. Not gone, but at least lower than before. It settled more of the tightness in his shoulders.

“No volleyball fer ya fer a few days, Tsumu,” Miya-san declared after she checked the thermometer.

“Figured as much,” Atsumu huffed. He was putting on a tough bravado, but Osamu didn’t miss how he was already half-asleep again.

“Gee, thanks Tsumu. Now I’m gonna have to play setter and wing--” Their mom cut Osamu off with a hearty guffaw.

“As if yer goin’ to practice, Samu. You think yer safe from this? If I have learned anythin’ about bein’ the parent of two boys as close as you two, it’s that when one goes down, the other goes down right after him.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about? I hate this guy.”

“Mhm, sure. I’ll go ahead and call yer coach. Good thing it’s summer break and ya don’t have classes!” Miya-san said smugly as she left the room.

Osamu glared at Atsumu who only smirked tiredly back. A second later, he closed his eyes and groaned, squirming around in bed.

“You okay?” Osamu asked before he could stop himself. Atsumu smiled lazily and peered up at his brother.

“Yeah. Thanks, Samu. Fer bein’ my brain and catchin’ this before I did.” Osamu blinked at him. If he wasn’t an asshole himself, he would smile and say it was no big deal.

But they were twins after all, and so Osamu was indeed just as big of an asshole as Atsumu.

“Ya better be,” he scoffed. Atsumu opened his mouth to protest, but closed his eyes suddenly.

“Tsumu?”

“Just got dizzy. It’s fine.” He exhaled and opened his eyes again. They were still hazy and half-lidded with fever.

“Just go to sleep, dumbass,” Osamu muttered and sat on the bed by Atsumu’s ribs. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, just like he did when they were kids. Even if Atsumu no longer looked like that tragic, pathetic child, a part of Osamu would always feel the need to shield his brother from the harsh world. Deep down, he hoped Atsumu felt the same way.

(Sometime later, their mom walked in the room to find her two sons sound asleep together on the bottom bunk. Osamu lay across Atsumu’s middle, one arm stretched by his face and the other stretched towards Atsumu’s hair. She laughed to herself at the fact that, no matter how old they got, they always seemed to fall asleep in this exact position if they were near each other.

The next day, Osamu cursed out Atsumu as he threw up in the bathtub. Atsumu swore at him from his position over the toilet. Their mother secretly delighted in getting to take care of her baby boys again and brought them their blue and green sports drinks.)

#haikyuu sickfic #sick atsumu #caretaker Osamu #caretaker mama miya #tw vomit #miya astumu #miya osamu #haikyuu

[zaffrenotes]

[TRR x ES] Viewing Party

Book: The Royal Romance & Endless Summer Pairings: Liam x MC (Katrina Bailey), Drake x OC (Alyssa Devereaux), Jake x MC (Laurel) Rating/Warnings: G; mild innuendo Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * Katrina Bailey & Laurel are the MCs I use when writing fanfic for TRR and ES, respectively; Alyssa Devereaux belongs to birthday girl @burnsoslow​ * This is my submission for @wackydrabbles​​ Prompt 80: Stop looking at me like that. * Author’s Note 2: * This is a birthday gift for my cheesy, potato loving homegirl Burnsie, who requested her very first Endless Summer/Jake fic, despite having never read any ES fic until now 🙈 for the sole reason being that she and Jake McKenzie are almost birthday twins, and my favorite pilot turns 30 this year. If you’re unfamiliar with canon ES trivia, Jake can hold his breath for 9 minutes, and Estela can hold her breath for an astonishing 14. This isn’t entirely what I had in mind when I set out to write an ES/Jake birthday fic, but I wasn’t about to miss your day because I’ve hit a whole ass writer’s wall, Burnsie! I hope you have an AMAZING day and I’m sending you so many hugs! You’re one of the sweetest ladies here, and I am so very thankful that I can call you a friend 🥰 also my real, real gift to you is coming at a later date, as I still have to work on it 😬 * and yes, that’s DDT in the moodboard - just for Burnsie, again - since I use Barnes as Drake’s FC in my TRR fics, lol * Word Count: 2000 on the dot!

It was nearly 10:00 PM on Friday evening, when Burns arranged things around the comfiest chair in her living room. The rest of her family already retired for the evening, after a small but wonderful birthday celebration in her honor at home. Within easy reach, she’d arranged drinks and snacks next to her laptop - a glass of water, a hot mug of tea, a slice of homemade birthday cake to take care of any sugar cravings, and a small platter of cheese and crackers for something more savory. She grinned softly at the newest addition to her mug collection, watching the steam rise from the contents within. 

The lavender mug arrived in the mail earlier that day from one of her friends, emblazoned with a quote from David Rose. Burns took a sip of the warm beverage before setting it down on the small side table and situated herself in the chair. She flipped open the laptop and pulled up a browser window, smiling at a gift from another friend - there was a sticker next to the trackpad with a drawing of a wedge of Swiss, quoting another memorable line from Schitt’s Creek, reminding her to “fold in the cheese.” Burns glanced to the time on the screen and logged in to her Netflix account, clicking until she arrived at the viewing party, and began typing to join the group chat. 

She was greeted with jubilant messages from Donna, Ella, Brandy, Anitah, and half a dozen other friends, wishing her a happy birthday before the show started. They’d formed an ever-growing viewing party for a new series titled Stranded in the Orchard, which was an odd amalgamation of Survivor and Gilligan’s Island. Taking a cue from reality tv competitions, there were hidden cameras all over the island to monitor everyone and reduce production crew intervention, and in a nod to Hunger Games, there was an omnipresent host that would drop messages to signal when challenges were about to take place. After four episodes, the ladies in the watching party started picking their favorites from the two teams. 

Team Ruby consisted of a group that appeared to have been shipwrecked onto the island. Leo was dubbed The Rogue; his brother Liam was The CEO; Katrina was The Attorney; Alyssa was The Teacher; Drake was The Cowboy; Olivia was The Weapons Expert; Bertrand was The Grump; Madeleine was The Whiner; Maxwell was Bertrand’s brother and The Jester; Hana was The Jill of All Trades. Bertrand and Madeleine had already been voted off when Ruby lost two events. 

Team Catalyst consisted of a group of mostly college students. Jake was The Pilot; Laurel was The Mystery Girl; Sean was The Coach; Michelle was The Doctor, even though she was only pre-med; Craig was The Muscle; Zahra was The Engineer; Aleister was The Slick One; Grace was The Brain; Diego was The Entertainer; Estela was The Huntress. Catalyst lost the last two events, which sent Aleister and Grace packing. 

Everyone settled in to watch the opening credits as they recapped last week’s episode, where Ruby won the immunity challenge and fishing gear by building a makeshift stretcher to rescue and carry Katrina from a jungle crash site to a first aid station on the beach; Catalyst voted Grace out. Burns popped a cheese cube into her mouth as she and her friends watched the two groups deal with day-to-day chores in their respective camps on Day 14 of the show. They chatted about the team members and how much Burns wanted to see Drake take off his shirt to go in the water, despite the knowledge that there were clips of him cuddling with Alyssa; Donna, Ella, and Anitah would keysmash in the group chat any time Liam appeared on the screen, even though he and Katrina were clearly sweet on each other, while Brandy and Alyssa Lauren would ask what was happening or who someone was from the Catalyst team.

—

“Pillows and blankets are nice, but what we could really use is food,” Maxwell said, drawing an octopus in the sand with a piece of driftwood. “I don’t know how much longer I can last on coconuts and rice.” 

“Liam and Drake took the raft out this morning to try fishing with the gear, maybe they’ll get lucky,” Katrina suggested, stirring the pot of rice in the fire. She set the lid on top and stood up from her kimchi squat position, dusting some errant sand off her leg. They both looked out towards the water, as dawn stretched out across the ocean, making out shadowy forms of their friends as they bobbed in the water, just before one of them went under the surface. Behind them, the rest of their friends began to stir awake from the scent of rice cooking. 

Back at the Catalyst camp, Jake sat by the campfire with Estela; they were working on making their own fishing gear from bamboo and camp supplies after losing the previous challenge. Jake fed a length of twine through a handmade fishing pole while Estela sharpened tips on one end of a pile of branches she’d gathered. “Whatcha whittlin’, Katniss?” 

Estela glanced at Jake sideways. “Stakes. Hand over some of that twine, I need it to bind these to make spears.” With a begrudging huff, Jake unfurled the twine and ran it against the edge of the makeshift bench he was sitting on to cut it, before tossing the rest at Estela. 

“How fast can you tie those off? We’re losin’ daylight for a morning catch, if you wanna ride on the raft with me.” 

“Five minutes,” she answered, already working nimbly around a branch to secure the whittled spikes. 

The screen cut back to Ruby’s camp, where Liam and Drake stepped ashore, smiles brighter than the sunrise as Drake held up a fish trap with small rays flapping against one another. 

—

“kjsdhfksjhfksjhfks,” Burns smashed into her keyboard. “Look at my man! With the sea bounty!” 

“mevmnbvmnxb,” Ella smashed back.

“How do you know Drake did all the work? Liam’s just as wet, hahaha,” Donna chortled in response.

—

After killing their catch as humanely as possible - with Alyssa turning her face to Drake’s chest to avoid witnessing it - Leo and Olivia gutted and cleaned the rays before setting them on top of their makeshift grill to cook. Liam and Drake regaled the group with their morning under the water, as they took turns fishing. 

While Team Ruby enjoyed some protein with their rice that morning, members of the Catalyst team glumly spooned rice into their mouths as they sat around the campfire while Jake and Estela dried off; their morning fishing trip had been unsuccessful. 

Later that day, both teams received messages from the host to gather for a reward challenge. Each team made their way to a small lagoon, where they saw a structure floating in the water. A booming voice overhead instructed them to swim out to the structure and await further instructions. Once everyone from both teams had done so, a blue holographic image of the host appeared in the center to explain the rules. “The challenge is simple,” she narrated. “We want to see who can hold their breath the longest. There’s a bar you can use to keep yourself from floating up if you need it. Last one standing earns the prize for the whole team — an overnight trip at the Celestial Hotel, where our rotating film crew goes to rest. You’ll be treated to clean sheets and towels, hot showers, along with a decadent dinner and breakfast menu the next morning, before having to return to your camp.” 

Everyone’s eyes lit up at the incentive of a night away from sleeping on the beach, away from mosquitos, rodents, and the threat of being waterlogged by passing storms. Stomachs gurgled at the thought of hot meals that didn’t consist of rice, and the possibility of cocktails or wine. “Oh, we got this,” Jake murmured quietly to Laurel. “Bet I can hold my breath longer’n any of those Ruby kids.” 

“Is that so?” Leo taunted, overhearing Jake’s comment.

“Just call me Poseidon,” Jake smirked. 

“We’ll see about that,” Leo replied. “You know most of us are from an island, right? We’re basically merpeople.” 

—

“Bets! Bets on who wins this!” Brandy typed into the chat window.

“Sticking with Drake,” Burns typed. “Maybe Hana. She could have another random talent up her sleeve.” 

“My money’s on Liam. Look how broad his chest is,” Anya replied. “He’s got to have massive lungs to match.”

“That makes no sense,” Ella typed, adding a laughing emoji. “But I’m Team Liam anyway.”

“Don’t hate me,” Donna began. “Something tells me Jake isn’t boasting right now.” 

From her screen at home, Alyssa Lauren used Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe to choose Zahra. The rest of the group picked their favorites as the castaways donned goggles and got into the water. 

—

“Ready? Set! Go!” 

Sixteen heads dipped under the water’s surface, with contestants pinching their noses and puffing out their cheeks as an underwater camera filmed them. A handful of them - Olivia, Alyssa, Maxwell, Diego, and Michelle - tapped out under a minute. As the sand settled, thirty seconds passed before Katrina, Laurel, Sean, and Drake headed to the surface. Just after the two minute mark, Hana, Craig, and Zahra gave up, leaving Jake, Liam, Estela, and Leo under the water. 

Jake looked positively peaceful, sandy brown hair swaying with ease in the water. Estela tapped her fingers lightly across the bamboo rod, counting each second as it passed. Liam glanced over to his brother, who’d begun to turn pink. Half a minute later, Leo popped up to the surface, muttering to himself out of frustration. 

Three minutes in, Liam surfaced, gasping for air, leaving Jake and Estela to battle it out between themselves. Even though the hologram host blasted a horn to signal the end of the challenge, neither Catalyst member surfaced. Liam ducked down to check on them, and Jake and Estela both signaled that they were fine. Everyone continued to wait as the pair spent minute after minute under the water.

—

“Seriously? They’re on the same team!” Anitah typed. “They won already!” 

“They’ve been underwater for a scary length of time,” Brandy added. “What are they, Navy SEALs or something?” 

“I think Jake mentioned he was actually in the Navy before,” Alyssa Lauren replied. 

—

A digital clock appeared in the corner of the screen as the two Catalyst members continued to hold their breath underwater. With each passing minute, members from both groups began to worry. After eight minutes passed, the host’s voice rang out, advising them to pull Jake and Estela up from the water to end the challenge. Laurel and Craig ducked down, eventually pulling their teammates up. “Congratulations to The Catalysts!” the host exclaimed. “A boat will be waiting at your camp to take you to the hotel.” 

Laurel swatted Jake’s arm as they made their way to the shore. “What’s wrong with you!? You were underwater for nearly ten minutes! Who does that!?” 

Jake looked over his shoulder to her with a grin, mischievous sparkle in his bright blue eyes. “Ten would be a new record, my best is nine.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Imagine nine uninterrupted minutes of me holding my breath, Princess. My birthday is tomorrow, and I know exactly how I wanna celebrate,” he winked.  

Laurel’s cheeks flushed at the suggestion. “Stop looking at me like that, Top Gun.”

—

That evening at the hotel, after a sumptuous feast of lobster, crab, and an endless supply of beer and wine, the Catalyst members eventually went to bed. Much later into the night, Jake was seen sneaking into Laurel’s room. 

—

“I KNEW IT!” Burns typed. She laughed as her friends typed in responses full of lemon, fire, pepper, and eggplant emojis. She popped another cheese cube into her mouth and smiled, watching the rest of the episode play out.

#the royal romance fanfic #endless summer fanfic #choices the royal romance #choices endless summer #liam x mc #liam x trina #drake x alyssa #jake x mc #choices crossover fanfic #wacky drabbles #survivor au #happy birthday Burnsie #birthday fanfic #zaffrenotes writes #there was an attempt #this is not what I planned #lol but I am out of time and don't have it in me to scrap what I've written #🙈 I watched an entire season of Survivor for like...3 scenes to add to the fic

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 17

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating

Nine days. Nine days had passed without so much as a peep coming from Namjoon’s lips. There had been no change in his condition, for better or for worse, so it had literally turned into a massive waiting game for you and the citizens of South Korea. 

A majority of citizens were very much up in arms over the attempted assassination of their believed President. Many of them loved Namjoon for how insightful, progressive, and determined he was and it hurt their hearts to see some vile person try to cut that down. On the other hand though, there was a decent amount of the population who believed that Namjoon was a conceited asshole who needed this “reality check”; those are the people that you hoped would burn in Hell, right along with the dickheads who had tried to kill Namjoon.

Speaking of the killers, the last that you’d heard was that there were three possible suspects and that the special team that had been assembled just to find the conspirators were digging into that further. You couldn’t say that the news necessarily made you feel better, but it did ease the pain a little bit. 

As for you, you had been keeping consistent at Namjoon’s bedside the entire time that he had been unconscious. You’d leave sometimes, when Jimin managed to convince you that you needed to sleep in an actual bed or eat a full, regular meal, but that was only for a few hours at most and never overnight. Deep down, you knew that you probably should’ve been taking better care of yourself, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave Namjoon in that hospital room alone. 

As you were sat in your chair that was placed next to Namjoon’s bed, you were interrupted in the middle of reading a magazine by a knock on the door. As you lowered the magazine down onto your lap and looked over your shoulder, you saw Yoongi stepping inside. 

“Hey hey,” he called and you set the magazine aside before standing up, giving him a tight hug after he walked over to you. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling away, and you motioned for him to sit down in the empty chair that was next to yours.

“How is he?” Yoongi wondered and you sighed dejectedly.

“Still no change,” you told him. “The doctors said that some of the swelling that he was having has gone down, but we’re not sure if that’s a sign of recovery or not yet.”

“Dammit,” Yoongi huffed, shaking his head.

“How are things at the National Assembly Building?” You asked and Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

“It’s almost as if those old bastards were waiting for something to happen to him,” Yoongi spat as he motioned to Namjoon with his chin. “They’re already trying to undo the Farmer bailout plan that he introduced a few weeks ago.”

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously,” Yoongi nodded. “You know that they’ve always hated him.”

“Yeah I do, but I never thought it was that bad,” you grimaced.

“Us being young, open minded men who are more concerned with the lives of the citizens than we are with lining our own pockets will always bother them,” Yoongi explained. “The only reason that I haven’t let them have it yet is because I don’t wanna undo all of Joon’s handwork and I don’t want things to be harder for him whenever he does wake up.”

“I appreciate it Yoongi, and I know he does too,” you smiled softly. “Speaking of that though, anymore word on those suspects?”

“Oh yeah, that’s what I came here to tell you actually,” Yoongi gasped, remembering what he had wanted to tell you. Just before he could start talking though, you heard a raspy voice call out to you.

“Y/N-ah?” You whipped your head to the side, your eyes widening when you saw Namjoon’s head turned towards you and his eyes wide open. You sprung out of your chair, moving to sit on the edge of the hospital bed as you gently picked up one of his hands. 

“Oh my gosh, you’re up,” you smiled, trying to keep the tears from welling up and spilling over onto your cheeks. “Are you in any overwhelming pain?”

“Here,” he croaked, his other hand that you weren’t holding motioning towards his abdomen. You nodded and then looked over your shoulder at Yoongi. 

“Can you go get the doctor please?” You requested and Yoongi nodded, standing up from his chair and speed walking out of the room. You then turned back to Namjoon, reaching up and running your fingers through his slightly greasy hair. 

“I’m so happy that you’re awake,” you whispered to him. Before he could reply, the door burst open and Namjoon’s doctor was walking inside of the room followed by Yoongi. 

“Mr. President,” Dr. Song grinned, reaching up and removing the stethoscope from around his neck. “We’re very happy to see that you’re conscious again.”

“T-thank y-yo-,” Namjoon tried to say before coughing violently. You furrowed your brows while Dr. Song set the stethoscope on Namjoon’s chest, listening to his breathing. 

“First Lady Kim, do you want to get him some water?” Dr. Song asked. “His throat is probably really dry after 9 days.” You nodded and stood up from the bed, moving over to the side table where there was a pitcher of water and paper cups, grabbing one and filling it up before going back to the bed. Dr. Song had pressed the button on the hospital bed so that the top half of Namjoon’s body rose, making it so that he was sitting up.

“Here, slow sips,” you encouraged him, holding the cup up to his lips and watching as he took small drinks from it. After he had downed about two thirds of the cup, you pulled it away and set it on the side table.

“Better?” Dr. Song asked and Namjoon nodded slowly.

“Lots,” he replied clearly. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Dr. Song wondered.

“I was...shot, right?” Namjoon said and both you and Dr. Song nodded. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“I was alright, but Momo, Jungkook, and Taehyung all got hit in the crossfire,” you revealed and his eyes got noticeably larger. “They’re all ok though, don’t worry.”

“Thank God,” Namjoon huffed, a sharp exhale escaping his throat right after and you figured that his chest must be hurting. 

“We’re gonna do some more testing and xrays on you, to see if there’s any pressing issues that we need to take care of,” Dr. Song spoke up. “I’ll leave you guys to talk in the meantime though.” Dr. Song bowed deeply to Namjoon before turning and walking out of the room. 

“You have some timing, you know that?” Yoongi chuckled as he moved closer to the bed.

“You’ve been handling things in my absence?” Namjoon asked and Yoongi nodded. “I know the old geezers have been giving you hell, huh?”

“You don’t even know,” Yoongi groaned, making Namjoon chuckle deeply which then set off another round of coughing. 

“Relax,” you admonished him, making Namjoon nod before he leaned back against the bed. 

“So, did you catch the fucking bastards yet?” Namjoon wondered.

“That’s actually what I was about to talk to Y/N-ah about before you woke up,” Yoongi smiled. “We found the people responsible.”

“So those three were guilty?” You said.

“Yep,” Yoongi confirmed. “They claim to have done it because they believe that Joon is ruining the great country that South Korea is with his progressive ideals, and all that other bullshit.”

“We’re sure those old geezers in Assembly didn’t have anything to do with it, because that sounds like them?” Namjoon pointed out and you couldn’t help but to laugh softly.

“We’re sure,” Yoongi laughed. “The three who did it are in custody now and waiting for their arraignment.”

“Good, I hope they burn in hell,” Namjoon spat and you just shook your head at how much he sounded exactly like you did.

................................

Later that night, after Namjoon had gotten more tests and xrays done, he was back in his hospital room. The doctor found that the bullets had done some pretty bad damage to his chest cavity so he’d have to have another surgery soon in order to take care of that. 

“Would you stop fawning over me?” Namjoon chuckled, watching as you made sure that his blanket was tucked over his feet. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” you told him absentmindedly, moving up towards the top of the bed in order to fix his pillows behind his head. “Just because you woke up, doesn’t mean that you’re fine.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” He pointed out and you looked down at him, sighing heavily.  

“Yeah, but there were a lot of times over the last nine days that I thought that was going to change at any moment,” you admitted, dropping down so that you were sat on the edge of the hospital bed. “As much as I wanted you to be ok, the constant image of you falling down those steps with your chest bleeding replaying in my head made it hard to believe that you’d ever wake up. I think that’s why I didn’t want to leave your side once you were out of surgery.”

“You stayed here with me the entire time?” He questioned and you hummed in affirmation. “You know, when I was unconscious, I had dreams.”

“Really?” You said in surprise. 

“Well, I’m not sure if they would be considered dreams in the conventional sense, but that’s what they felt like,” he explained. “I dreamed about a lot of things, but mostly you.”

“Me?” You squeaked. 

“Yeah. I dreamed about how we first met, and our wedding day, and the day that we found out that you were pregnant,” he said and you smiled sadly. 

“You almost fainted in our bathroom when you saw those two lines,” you laughed at the memory. 

“Can you blame me for being terrified?” He huffed playfully. “I didn’t want to be the kind of father that my dad was to me, to our child so I was scared shitless.”

“You wouldn’t have been like your father,” you assured him. “You couldn’t have been that bad even if you tried your hardest to be.”

“I had a lot of dreams about that too,” he said before elaborating. “About me and my dad and our relationship.”

“And how was that?”

“Let’s just say that a lot of the things that he’s talked me into over the years, were more for his benefit rather than mines,” Namjoon summed up and you nodded because you had always known that. 

“I’m sorry,” you told him. “I know you’ve always had mixed emotions towards your dad.”

“Yeah,” he sighed before looking at you. “Can I tell you something? And you don’t have to give me an answer but I’d like for you to think about it.”

“Sure,” you shrugged. 

“I remember that you asked for a divorce before we got out of the limo that night,” Namjoon started. “Do you still want that?”

“Joon, with everything going on, I haven’t even thought about that,” you replied honestly.

“But you’re with Jimin, right?” He asked and you hesitated for a few seconds before nodding. “Well, I hope that you’ll still maybe consider me.”

“Huh?” You grunted in confusion. 

“That night, I just gave up and agreed to the divorce because I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have,” he explained. “But in one of the dreams I had, I realized that I owe it to myself and to you to fight for what we have because we were good before all of this shit happened. I know that I’ve been the literal worst husband ever for the last eight months and despite whatever reasons that I thought justified that, it doesn’t make anything that I did right.”

“So what exactly are you saying?” You asked for clarification.

“I’m saying, that I’m going to fight for you Kim Y/N, because I love you and I’ve never stopped,” he declared firmly. “I’ll go to counseling, both on my own and with you, so that we could work on our issues if that’s something that you’d in interested in. And I ‘d do whatever else it takes to win you back.”

“It doesn’t just work like that though, Joon,” you told him weakly.

“I know and if you decide here and now that you wanna stay with Jimin and go ahead with the divorce, then I’m not gonna make it hard for you and that’s a promise,” he assured you. “But I’m also not gonna stand idly by without at least trying.” You just stared at him, wondering why the hell it had taken this version of Namjoon, the version that you had fallen in love with all those years ago in college, to show up. 

Instead of giving him an outright answer either way, you just leaned forward and pressed your lips against his forehead, letting your lips linger on his skin for a few seconds before pulling away from him. 

................................

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