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silver-weasel · 3 years

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Diving (Deku x Reader)

Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)

Rating : E, 18+

Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts

Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)

A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3

Written for @rat-zuki’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…”

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck.

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick.

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core.

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to.

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say: “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

#bnha smut #deku smut #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya smut #mha smut #there it is omg it's long af #weasel writes

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n0wornever · 3 years

Text

Remember Me - Luke Patterson x Reader

“So I have this idea where the reader died with the boys she's like their friend/fan/manager type stuff but like she has this crush on Luke since forever but never acted up on it and so when they met Julie and stuff the boys kind of neglect her because they were so focused on making the band and stuff and she also sees the chemistry between Luke and Julie. After that she went and met Willie where they talked about their unfinished business and like the reader knows her unfinished business and it's not Luke...”

So this is....the saddest piece I’ve ever written, sorry in advance

It had been about two months since Y/N and the boys were planted in Julie Molina’s life. In that short period of time, Luke, Alex, and Reggie were able to creatively connect with the girl and start to play music again. As much as she loved to watch the boys succeed, she couldn’t help but feel a pain in her chest.

As the boys grew closer to Julie, Y/N slipped into the background. Unable to contribute musically and her death making it impossible for her to help with the marketing piece she used to take on, she was often relegated to an audience member and cheerleader. She didn’t mind encouraging her boys, but she couldn’t help but feel like an outsider from the group.

As she sat on the white sand, she looked out at the open water, listening to water whip around. A jolt pushed her back a few feet, leaving her breathless. As she came back from the sudden pain, she thought about what Willie had said to Alex about completing their unfinished business. With the physical pain of whatever Caleb ejected into their system, and the hidden pain her chest, she was aware of the fact that she couldn’t last long.

She knew she needed to talk to someone about it. Her best friend had been the one she turned to when she felt her lowest. She had hesitated to say anything to him before because looked so happy with this second chance. He was writing and singing again, and most importantly, he was smiling again. She had ignored the fast beating of her heart when he grabbed her hand in excitement over the Phantoms’ first gig and definitely ignored the ache in her chest when she saw the way that Julie and Luke sang with each other on the stage. However, she knew this feeling in her gut wouldn’t go away with her letting it build inside, so she was finally going to rip off that bandaid.

She snapped her fingers and was instantly brought back to the garage. She looked around the garage and didn’t see anyone initially. As she waited, she started to hear the muffled sound of voices outside the door. She walked over, opening the door a crack and peeking outside. She saw Luke and Julie, a soft smile across his face as he looked at her. One she once thought was reserved for her. She swallowed hard as she listened.

“Julie, you’re incredible, please talk to me. You know that you can tell me anything, right?”

The girl looked up at him with wide eyes and a sweet smile. They moved to try to connect hands, his slipping through hers. She turned to face the house and he smiled at her side profile.

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have…”

Y/N felt tears bubble toward the surface as she watched the pure encounter in front of her. She had felt like she had been replaced for a while now, but this was the physical proof she was looking for. She slid the door closed and fell against it, letting silent tears fall from her face for a moment before snapping her fingers again.

She landed in the middle of the quiet dance floor of Caleb’s club. She heard the sound of tires wheeling toward her and turned to see Willie racing her way. He slid up to meet her, picking up his board in his hand and smiling at her.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”

She clutched her wrist in her opposite hand, refusing to meet his eyes. She felt his hand grab hers and she finally met his gaze, unable to stop the tears from flowing.

“What’s going on?” He pressed, his eyebrows raised in concern.

She let go of his hand and moved hers to wipe the tears away. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.” She shoved her hands in her pockets as she looked up at him.

He sighed, leading her over to the table. He sat his board on the chair next to him and turned to face her. She took a deep breath before speaking again.

“You know how you said that by completing your unfinished business you could pass on…”

“Uh-huh…” He said slowly, one eyebrow raising at her.

She rubbed the back of her neck “I was wondering...how do you find out what that is exactly...to do that…”

“Y/N have you talked to the boys-”

She stopped him, holding a hand out to his face. “I am certain it doesn’t have anything to do with them.” He stared at her blankly “You know that. We talked about how their scheduled performance will probably be the anecdote for them. That won’t work for me… I need to do this alone”

He nodded at her, waiting a moment before talking again “Okay, so let’s think about this…. Do you have anyone that you have unresolved issues with? Anyone that you might have left on bad terms with?”

She thought hard about this question. There were many people that she never received clarity from, but one stuck out. Her mom and her were never really on great terms. She remembered the last argument they had the last night before she left for the Sunset Curve show. Her mom had been frustrated with her slipping grades and her continued focus on the boys’ career instead of her own.

What really broke her was her mom’s stance that Luke “wasn’t good enough for her” and that she was wasting her time on him. The screaming match that followed this comment had left Y/N’s face red and her heart racing as she screamed ‘I hate you’ at her mother and slammed the door as she left.

She regretted that the moment she said it. She knew her mom was just looking out for her, that she wanted the best for her daughter, and was genuinely worried about her. She knew she didn’t like Luke, but it wasn’t because she disliked him, she felt like the boy was leading her daughter on and didn’t want her heart to hurt anymore. Her mom was there the nights she cried when Luke would go on dates with other girls or when he would cancel plans last minute. Her mom would console her into the early hours of her morning. Although they didn’t always see eye to eye, her mom cared about her and loved her more than anyone she ever knew.

She felt her chest get heavier the longer she thought about that moment. She met Willie’s eyes again, placing her hands on the table as she told him the story.

“I think I know what I need to do, thanks, Wille.”

The right side of his lips rose at her, grabbing her hands and squeezing them. “You sure that this is what you want?”

She nodded, standing up. She wrapped the flannel she stole from Luke this morning and pulled it over her shoulders. The pair exchanged a hug and a last goodbye before she poofed out of the room. As she opened her eyes, she was met by a scene she was all too familiar with. The tree was already decorated for the Christmas holiday, the dining room set the way her mom always did even though they rarely ate there. She walked forward, entering the living room. That is when she saw her, she almost cried at the sight of the grey-haired woman, knitting in her favorite chair. As she approached her and watched her stoically watching the screen in front of her, she shook from the emotion that fell from her body. Y/N tried to wave her hand in front of her face, but the woman did not react to the movement. She watched her for another moment before she walked over to the table.

She saw the pen and notepad on the table and concentrated on them. She exhaled as she was able to hold the pen in her hand. She touched the notepad, pressing the ink to the page. The words flew like water from her as the pen hit the paper. She got to the end and thought carefully before she wrote “Your Sunshine” at the end in neat cursive. She ripped the paper from the rest and folded into a perfect square. She held it up to her and kissed it gently. She walked to the kitchen, placing the note next to the coffee machine that she’d know the woman would eventually wander to. She looked around the room one more time before stepping through the back door.

She sat down on the outside steps and took a deep breath. She rested her elbows on her knees and brought her hands up to cover her face. She finally took a moment to let go, crying into her hands, the tears collecting in her palm. She knew that she couldn’t bear to evaporate into thin air or whatever would happen at her home. She felt like that would be like her mom losing her twice, even if she didn’t see her.

She snapped her fingers and heard the familiar noise of the waves around her. She let her eyes set on the water furthest from her. Sitting in silence as the grey day consumed her.

Later that night

Luke’s body drew a subtle hue as he hugged Julie, feeling the strength reenter his body after a near-death after their last performance. The band hugged each other closely, spinning around in a circle at the opportunity for another chance to be around each other. As they separated, Luke looked around the room with wide eyes.

“Hey, where’s Y/N, I know she’s not formally a part of the band...but maybe this will work for her too?”

He looked over to the chair where he normally found her reading and didn’t see her lamp on. He ran over to the other side of the room by the stereo and found nothing. He ran his fingers through his hair as he sprinted back over to his bandmates.

He jogged back to his bandmates, scratching his head “Did she say she was going somewhere tonight?”

Before any of them could answer, they heard the turn of wheels near the entrance of the garage. They turned to see the long-haired skater frantically trying to catch his breath. His eyes darted between all of the boys eyes before he met Luke’s, fighting the tears he already felt coming.

“Willie, what’s going on?” Alex asked, approaching the boy.

Willie looked up at Alex with tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He bit down on his bottom lip before speaking to the group.

“She didn’t want me to tell you guys, but my heart can’t take you all not knowing. I think Y/N is gone.”

Luke scoffed, pointing at the empty room behind him “Yeah, I just tried to look for her-”

Wille interrupted him, swallowing hard “No...she’s gone gone.”

Luke’s face moved to a scowl, approaching the man with his fists balled “What do you mean? What the hell did you do?”

Wille pressed backward, and Alex intervened, pushing against Luke’s chest to separate the boys. The skater put a hand on Alex’s shoulder and moved him out of the way to meet Luke’s angry expression again.

“I didn’t do anything. SHE came to me this afternoon and asked about completing unfinished business. She told me she had to do this. She said something about it being her last hope.” Luke felt his eyes fill with water. He turned away from the group and slammed his hand against the wall, knowing well that it would bruise his knuckles.

He screamed out in anguish before moving back over to her seat on the couch. His bandmates watched as he terrorized the room, ripping papers and pushing over furniture. Willie moved forward to try to console him but Alex’s arm rose, blocking the boy from walking forward. Alex nodded at his bandmates and Willie, the four of them leaving the boy alone in the room.

Luke noticed a neat little square of paper sitting on top of the last book she read. He picked it up and saw his name written in her perfect penmanship. he sat down in her chair and wiped his tears aways on his ruffled top, steadying his breathing before unraveling the piece of paper.

“Luke,

I didn’t want to do this, but I think leaving will be the best thing for my heart. I hope that your work with Julie gives you and the boys the second chance that you all deserve. I have never been prouder of you and no one in this world and afterlife deserves another shot of happiness like you do. I hope Julie takes care of your heart because I know that you deserve so much love, I hope she’s willing to give that to you for as long as she can. Thank you for being my first friend, my first ‘boss’, and....my first love. I hope you never forget me because I know that it will be very difficult for me to forget you.

Love,

Your Sugar, Y/N”

He didn’t notice that he was crying until a few rogue tears hit the paper, drenching the words. He read the words “first love” several more times before folding it back up into her perfect square. He brought the note up to his lips and kissed it gently before holding it to where his heart used to beat. He looked up at the ceiling and whispered “I love you so much, I’m so sorry Sugar” to the air around him, letting the tears continue to fall as he sat in silence.

Tag list: @xplrreylo @lovesanimals, @anythingandeverythingfandom, @crybabyddl, @oswin05, @joshy-obx, @lukeys-giggle, @bumbleberry-pie @kiss-themoongoodbye @marinettepotterandplagg, @lolychu, @bathtimejish, @dasexydevitt13 @musicconversedance, @txrii @bestdressedandstressed @daisiesforlacey @epikskool @bookfrog247 @carleywhittaker @princessvader15 @rudysbay @spooky-season-bitch

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #jatp

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naruhinamain · 3 years

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Day 1: Sunflowers/Good morning

Submitted by HappyOcelot

A/N: It’s on both fanfiction.net and AO3 as “When I Look At You.” So please chat with me there, ‘cuz I don’t have a tumblr. :)

“I’ve missed you so much,” said a very familiar voice at the edge of Training Ground 3.

Naruto froze in shock.

Whoa, what was going on? He’d just come here to take a nice, peaceful walk before training, but it seemed like someone was already here.

“You don’t look so good, do you?” the voice said, its tone dripping with concern. The voice sounded remarkably like Neji’s, but he had never heard such tenderness in Neji’s voice before. It was the kind of tone you would usually use with…

Naruto sighed. Looked like someone was meeting up with his girlfriend in secret right now. He’d just never pegged Neji as a doting boyfriend. It was strange that Naruto couldn’t figure out where this secret girlfriend seemed to be though. It looked like Neji was speaking to thin air.

“I asked Lee to take care of you while I was gone, but it seems that he gave you too much water.” Some sighing.

Naruto squinted suspiciously at Neji’s silhouette. There was definitely no one else there, so who was he talking to? He moved closer, his eyes widening as he finally absorbed the bizarre scene in full.

It was Neji. With a plant. A plant that he was lovingly stroking as though it was his long-lost relative.

For a brief moment, Naruto was reminded of some old photographs that he’d seen back in Sunagakure after the Kazekage rescue mission was complete, of a kid Gaara hugging a teddy bear.

“Never mind that now. The important thing is that you’re alive, and I’m here now…my sweet little Himawari-chan.”

Neji, despite being blessed with the Byakugan, did not seem remotely aware that Naruto was right behind him, hearing every single word and seeing every single thing that he was doing. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing, so Naruto decided to snap him out of it.

He coughed loudly.

Neji abruptly froze up. Slowly and deliberately, the Hyuuga turned around. His white eyes narrowed dangerously as they met Naruto’s bemused blue.

“Naruto.” His eyes and his voice were stiff, wearing an expression completely incongruous with what he had just been doing: lovingly whispering to a potted sunflower that he was clutching protectively to his chest, as though Naruto wanted to steal it.

“Uh…good morning?” Naruto offered placatingly. “Um, did you just call that sunflower – mmph!”

“Don’t say a word,” Neji hissed, one hand clamped over Naruto’s mouth, the other still clutching the sunflower protectively. “I mean it, Naruto. If you tell anyone about this, I swear that I’ll Eight Tri – ”

Naruto pushed Neji’s hand away with a scowl. “Okay. God, Neji, why are you so uptight? You’re acting like I saw you bury a body or something.”

Neji gave him the evil eye again. “Don’t tell anyone about this, do you understand?”

“Okay, okay,” Naruto said. “But I don’t know why you’re so worked up about this, ya know? A lot of people name their plants, you know that?”

Neji merely squinted at Naruto skeptically.

“Honest!” Naruto held up his hands. “I gave Kakashi-sensei a plant and he calls him Ukki. And I give my plants names too!”

“You garden?” Disbelief dripped through Neji’s voice, and irritation dripped through Naruto’s spine.

“Yeah!” Naruto snatched the potted sunflower from Neji’s hands, ignoring his scandalized expression. “Himawari-chan looks really nice.”

“Hmph.”

“I don’t think Bushy Brows gave her too much water,” he said, examining the bright yellow of the sunflower with a critical eye. “The pot has drainage holes, and the soil you used here doesn’t seem too damp. She’ll be fine. You worry too much.”

Neji snatched the potted plant back. “It’s a precious flower that Hinata-sama enstrusted to me,” he responded. “I have to worry.”

“Hinata gave it to you?”

“Yes,” Neji said shortly. “For my birthday.”

“Your birthday?” Naruto asked. “You have a birthday, Neji?”

“It was last week.”

“Wow, I can’t believe it. I always thought that you dropped out of the sky with the grumpiest expression on your face, ya know that, Neji?”

“Very funny.”

“Anyway…” Naruto grabbed Neji’s arm and pulled.

“Wait, Naruto, what are you – ”

“I can’t believe it was your birthday a week ago and you didn’t tell me!”

“You acting like this is exactly why – ”

“So we have to celebrate!” Naruto yelled, tuning Neji out completely.

“Naruto, don’t you dare force me to pay for your ramen – ”

“Don’t worry, I’ll ask Old Man Teuchi to give you a birthday discount!”

“Hold up, I didn’t agree to this – ”

“We can have a ramen eating contest! To Ichiraku we go!”

Neji sighed deeply as Naruto dragged him around the village like a rag-doll and forced him to eat an amount of ramen that would definitely induce indigestion in him later.

Then he glanced at the potted sunflower clutched in his arm.

He smiled as he remembered Hinata’s voice.

When you see this sunflower, think of me, Neji nii-san.

July 3.

A really beautiful day. It was the very peak of summer, and the bush warblers flew carefree in the cloudless blue sky, despite spring long since having passed.

Hinata was sure that Neji would have liked to have seen them, those beautiful free birds. He’d always liked to test the limits of his Byakugan and count as many birds as possible.

He would get so frustrated when he missed even one. It happened more times than he cared to admit.

“Good morning, Neji nii-san, and happy birthday,” she said to the pure white gravestone. “You’re twenty-three already now, aren’t you? Time really flies, doesn’t it?”

She closed her eyes and could feel his calm presence. Despite his serenity, all she could feel was excitement.

“I have a birthday present for you. Well, not yet, but soon.”

In her mind’s eye, Neji nodded.

“What is it that you wish to give me, Hinata-sama?”

“How to explain this…it was really Naruto-kun’s idea. Don’t worry, he’ll be here in a few minutes.” Hinata busied herself with wiping the gravestone clean. “Do you remember the present I got you for your seventeenth birthday?”

And now in her mind’s eye, Neji sighed.

“Hinata-sama, there’s no need to be so hesitant with me. I’ll cherish whatever you give me.”

Hinata swallowed the lump in her throat. “Neji nii-san, in nine months, Naruto-kun and I will give you a niece.”

Her words left the Neji of her mind speechless. Still, Hinata continued.

“You…you did really well, watching over that sunflower I gave you before,” she said. “I know that you’ll watch over this one too.”

The Neji of her mind nodded, finally regaining the power of speech.

“I’ll cherish her forever, Hinata-sama.”

“Mama, do you think oji-san likes them?”

“Of course, Himawari. After all, you and these flowers share the same name.”

The bush warblers flew carefree in the cloudless blue sky.

Neji gazed at the sunflower that Hinata had entrusted to him. If he could, he would have clutched her protectively to his chest.

He smiled.

#nhweek #nhweek2021 #naruhina #nhweek2021 day1 #happy ocelot #fanfic #submission

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sincerelyella · 3 years

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Everything Has Changed - Long Live The Queen Chapter 2

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Song inspiration: Long Live The Queen by Frank Turner

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

Summary: What if Liam was promised as a child to another kingdom’s princess?

A/N: Participating in @wackydrabbles and the prompt will be in bold.

Tagalog words to know: Lola - grandmother

Warnings: angst, my little Liam crying

Words: 1583

As Ella bolted out of the room, Danilo shouted, "Young lady! Get back here!"

A little voice echoed down the hallway. "Come over here and make me!"

Eleanor covered her mouth and pretended to cough to conceal her laugh. Flora tucked her lips between her teeth to hide the smile that was threatening to show. Liam looked up at his parents and then Ella's. "She seemed upset," he shuffled his feet as he locked eyes with his mother. "I think … I'll go see if she's okay."

Eleanor smiled and nodded.

The young prince quickly walked out of the room and looked around for any indication of Ella. He caught a streak of pink outside the palace doors and ran down the large staircase to follow her. Once outside, he scanned left and right, then spotted her by the fountain and entrance to the garden maze. Liam slowly made his way over to her; when she saw him approaching, her eyes widened.

"Prince Liam! I'm sorry, I just got nervous-"

Liam shook his head. "Please don't apologize. I told my father the same thing before you arrived," he smiled at her. "You can just call me Liam; I don't really like titles in casual settings."

Ella met his gaze and smiled back at him. "Me too! My friends call me Ella or El … like my name isn't short enough," she rolled her eyes.

Liam smiled. "Okay then, Ella," he stuck his hand out towards her; Ella grabbed it, thinking he wanted to shake hands. Instead, he lifted her knuckles to his lips and brushed a soft kiss over them. "I'd like to be friends; it seems like we'll be spending a lot of time together."

Six-year-old Ella was used to people bowing, curtsying, and kissing her hand, but it felt different this time for some reason. A nervous laugh bubbled up from her chest, and her cheeks blushed a tinge of pink that matched her outfit. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Let me show you the garden maze, my mother designed it, and it's my favorite part of the palace."

The two descended into the garden entrance while the two couples watched intently from the palace doors.

"Seems like all is in order, Danilo," Constantine grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

"Yes, it does, my friend; we shall see you again over the summer."

The next year, Queen Eleanor passed away, and instead of a fun summer together as kids, Ella and her family came to Cordonia for the queen's funeral. Liam was stoic even at nine years old, but Ella could tell he was trying to hold back tears the entire time she was there. She had made friends (sort of) with little Lord Maxwell and Liam's best friend, Drake. Maxwell seemed excited about everything, and Drake was the total opposite. Ella assumed Liam needed a balance in his life, one friend was happy all the time, and the other wasn't.

July 2000

Max, Drake, and Ella had tried to get Liam to cheer up after his mother's death. One night, the trio built a blanket fort in Maxwell's room and filled the inside with pillows, ice cream, and pizza. Liam was very polite; of course, he was always polite. He ate his pizza and ice cream dutifully but didn't laugh at any of Maxwell's antics and excused himself early so that he could go to bed.

The next night, Maxwell went back to Ramsford, and Drake was with his family, so it was just Ella and Liam at the palace. Leo always snuck out and did his own thing, especially after Eleanor's death. He was a teenager and wasn't the best supportive big brother to Liam. After a silent dinner with Liam, the two of them walked together to their respective rooms and separated after bidding each other goodnight.

Ella's mother and father were in the suite, relaxing after their dinner with Constantine.

Flora smiled as her daughter walked inside. "Hi, baby, how was dinner with Liam?"

Ella shrugged. "It was quiet. Mama, you know I can't be quiet for that long! He's acting like how I was when Lola died."

"He misses her," Danilo added. "Remember how you felt when Lola passed away, my princess?"

Ella's eyes watered, and her lip quivered. "Can we do something for him?"

"Like what, hun?"

Her little brows furrowed in thought. "What about what you got me when Lola went to heaven?"

Danilo nodded approvingly. "That little keychain with her picture?"

"Yes! Do you think he'll like it?"

Flora pulled her daughter onto her lap and kissed her cheek. "I think he will, baby. I'll get everything set for you, okay?"

"Thank you, mama," Ella hugged her mother and kissed her father, goodnight.

The next day, true to her word, Flora was able to get a keychain with the late queen's picture inside it, and not just any image, but a photo of her holding Liam as a baby. Ella smiled at her gift and thanked her mother, profusely.

"Remember, he is still going to be sad, so don't expect him to be excited and jump for joy," Flora whispered as she hugged her daughter.

"I know, mama, I just want him to know that I know how he feels."

"Okay," Flora kissed Ella on the forehead and pushed her towards the front door. "Go ahead and find him then, baby."

Ella skipped out in the hallway and past the palace doors. She pushed open the heavy glass and made her way to the garden maze. He has to be in there; he said it's his favorite place. Ella peered into the entrance of the garden and hesitantly stepped inside. What if he's not here? I'll forget how to get out! She chewed her bottom lip nervously but decided it was worth it. Ella was eager to give him her gift; she just wanted him to feel better. Ella's ponytail swung back and forth as she made her way through the maze. She followed the beautiful roses that were sporadically planted in between the bushes. Finally making it to the center, she saw blonde hair and smiled. There he was, sitting at the memorial bench that was placed there for his mother. It sounded like he was talking, and Ella, not wanting to disturb him, crept silently closer to listen.

"I miss you a lot, mother; I don't have anyone else to talk to about things," Liam sniffled. "I mean, there are Drake and Maxwell sometimes, but they're with their families. Father seems to be busy more often now, and Leo is … gone most of the time. I just-"

Ella accidentally stepped on a twig, and the snapping sound of it caused Liam to stop and turn. "Oh!" Ella turned a bright red. "Liam! I'm … I mean, hi!"

"Hello," Liam smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "How did you know I was here?"

"You told me this was your favorite place," Ella stepped forward. "Is it okay if I sit with you for a little bit?"

Liam nodded.

"Thank you." Ella moved towards the bench and climbed onto it.

"What's that?" Liam's eyes were focused on a small blue box in Ella's hand.

"Oh, this is for you," she handed it to him and smiled. "I'm sorry to interrupt you in the middle of-"

"It's okay," he answered quickly. "You didn't have to buy me anything." His fingers circled the box before he untied the bow. Inside, nestled a golden keychain with a picture of him and his mother. Liam's jaw went slack, and his eyes filled with tears.

"I wanted you to know that when my Lola passed away last year, I was just like you," Ella explained. "I usually don't ever stop talking, but when she died, I didn't want to talk. My Lola was my whole world. When my parents had to go on trips without me, she was my person. I talked to her about everything, and she listened like I was important."

Liam stayed silent; he was confident that only sobs would escape if he opened his mouth to speak.

"I just … felt like you should know I know how you feel, and I'm so sorry about your mom, Liam," Ella whispered. "I didn't mean to bother you; I know you were talking to her. I'll see you at dinner, okay?"

All he could muster was a nod, and he watched Ella hop off the bench and wander into the garden maze. Liam turned back around and stared down at the keychain, heavy in his little palm, and it was like a switch was turned on. The tears came like a flood, and he could do nothing to stop them. All the pain and heartache he held back for two months came barreling out of him at full speed.

Ella's ears perked up when she heard sniffling and heaving breaths. She realized quickly that it was Liam, so she turned back around and made a beeline for him. Liam listened to her approach, but he couldn't acknowledge her presence; the waves of emotion hit his small body like a freight train. He felt like a tornado had wrapped him up, and he was swirling around without purpose. Thankfully, Ella didn't speak or ask him any questions. She hopped back up onto the bench next to her friend, reached for his hand, and squeezed it reassuringly. Her hand felt like the anchor he needed.

#Everything Has Changed #trr au #trr fandom #trr fanfic #trr fanfiction #the royal romance au #the royal romance fandom #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance fanfiction #the royal romance #trr #Liam x MC #Liam x Ella #Liam Rys #tw: angst

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tangledstarlight · 3 years

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hi im back again with another jatp 5+1 thing because i have no self control and work has been real slow lately. this time it started because i was thinking about the plants in the studio garage and who watered them yknow?? and well. now we have this. i’m very sorry.

sidenote: this is apparently turning into a lil series so if anyones got any ideas of reggie or alex hmu cos im drawing a blank

ANYWAY it’s a 5+1 julie centric with a happy ending because Julie Molina can and will save those boys with the power of love.

also on ao3

trigger warnings! death mentions (because they’re ghosts (also her mother is yknow. dead)), mild swearing.

one.

When she was six Julie had made a very detailed presentation - including glitter and coloured print outs, courtesy of Carrie’s printer - on why she should be allowed to get a pet fish. There had been charts and graphs - because she’d seen someone on tv using charts and graphs and getting what they wanted so obviously it was the way to go - and little hands outs in the form of flyers and posters she’d found in the school library.

She’d stood in front of her parents in the living room, Carrie holding up the bar graph, Flynn supporting the pie chart, and she had made her case. She had promised to feed them, to help clean out the tank and filter. She’d pointed out how having a fish didn’t need walking and that they were quiet and there was never really any mess to clean up. A fish would be the perfect pet.

A week later on a sunny Saturday morning, the three Molina’s walked into a pet store. Julie had done a lot of thinking in the last week about what kind of fish she wanted. Carrie, Flynn and herself had spent a painstaking afternoon looking through photos on google until they found the perfect fish.

So she almost didn’t notice the tank in the back corner of the store that looked a little dark and dingy, with two fish swimming aimlessly around the decoration-less tank. There wasn’t anything particularly special or different about these fish, they looked like every other goldfish she’d ever seen. Yellow-gold scales, large eyes, fins that always reminded her of wings, one of them seemed to be turning almost white while the other had little spots of black mixing with the gold.

Julie tilted her head as she peered into the tank, blowing a stray curl out of her face as she furrowed her brow. She couldn’t say why, but these fish just seemed so very sad to her.

“They’re sad,” she said out loud, looking over at her parents where they were standing talking to a shop assistant about different types of tanks. “Why are they by themselves?”

“Those two are returns. Kid didn’t want them anymore so they bought them back,” the man said, already sounding bored of the conversation. But the frown on Julie's face deepened as she looked back at the fish. No wonder they were sad. Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Julie looked around at all the other fish tanks around her, at all the bright happy fish swimming around and made up her mind.

“Can we get these two please?” She pointed at the tank in front of her, careful not to touch the glass because she didn’t want to scare them. That would be a terrible first introduction.

“I thought you wanted one of the ones with orange and black splotches?” Her mom said coming to stand next to her, because that’s all she’d been talking about on the drive over. About the fish that she’d wanted. Julie nodded her head quickly and then shook it once, hair flying in front of her face again that her mom gently moved away.

“I did! But these two are sad and no one wants them which isn’t fair. They didn’t do anything wrong. But I want them. And I’ll look after them and love them and they can be happy! Please momma, these ones?” Julie watched as her parents exchanged a look, eyebrows raising and lips twitching. She didn’t know what any of it meant, but her dad said something about needing a tank big enough for two and forty-five minutes later they were leaving the shop with a tank and two sad looking fish.

Julie had been so engrossed in looking at her new fish, naming them and telling them all about their new home and how they were going to be able to see the TV so clearly from their spot in the living room that she didn’t hear the shop assistants comment about how they probably only had a few months left to live.

Two years later as Juile went about her usual Saturday morning routine of breakfast and cartoons and pretending to help her mom with the crossword she paused to say hello to her fish. Empty bowl in her hand and halfway to the kitchen when she looked into the tank and felt her heart drop.

“Mom! Dad!”

Her parents both came rushing in from the kitchen at her distressed call, finding her staring into the glass tank she had taken hours to decorate with silent tears dripping down her face as the two fish floated listless at the top.

“Oh sweetie,” her mom said, a hand resting on her chest and as she wrapped her other arm around her daughter's shoulders, pulling her close to her side.

“They’re dead,” Julie said quietly, because she had done all her research two years ago about fish and how to look after them and what they liked. And how to tell if they were dead.

“Yeah they are,” her mom gave her a gentle squeeze, turning her away from the tank and leading her to the sofa so they could sit down. “But you gave them the best two years with the way you looked after them. Decorating their home and making sure they got only the best food and keeping them company. They weren’t so sad anymore.”

And Julie just nods her head, wiping tears away on her sleeves and swallowing when she feels more tears welling in her eyes.

“Can we bury them?”

“Of course we can mija. There's that old shoe box in the closet upstairs, why don’t you go get it and we can decorate it for them, huh? Put their names on it, make it look nice,” her dad, perched on the arm of the sofa said, running one hand over her hair as he smiled down at her.

“Okay.”

They bury the two fish in a cardboard shoe box decorated with glitter and stickers in the back garden, next to a little flower bed near the studio garage and Julie cries again but it’s not so sad. Because she had given her fish the two best years she could and her mom is holding her hand while her dad has her hugged to his side. And maybe death isn’t so sad if they’ve lived a happy long life.

two.

The plant sat on her desk staring at her.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t staring at her, because it was a plant and, as far as Julie knew, plants couldn’t stare. But if they could this one would be.

Actually it would probably be glaring at her. Using it’s last dregs of life to make sure it’s murderer knew what they had done and felt guilty about it.

Julie hadn’t meant to kill the little plant. She’d just… forgotten it was sitting on her windowsill in her bedroom, in direct sight of the sun everyday for the last three months. Without getting watered once.

She was eleven years old and a plant killer.

Julie dropped her head into her hands and let out a groan, throwing herself backwards onto her bed so only her feet were dangling off the end. That’s how her mom finds her twenty minutes later.

“Everything okay in here?” She asked, a laugh in her tone that just makes Julie groan again.

“No!” She whines, not sitting up but at least moving her hands from in front of her face as her mom comes further into her room and sits on the edge of her bed.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I killed the plant,” Julie mutters, a pout on her lips as her eyebrows are drawn together and she glares at the ceiling. Just how she’d imagined the plant glaring at her.

“Ah,” is all she gets in response which just makes Julie glare harder at her ceiling, even as she feels tears pooling in her eyes.

“I’m a plant killer mom. Does that make me a bad person?”

She can almost feel the shock coming from her mom as she looks down at her, eyes a little wide as the older woman shakes her head. And then her eyes soften and she’s pulling Julie up so they’re sitting side by side on the bed, looking at the plant she has murdered by default.

“Oh Julie. Did you mean to kill the plant?” She asks and Julie immediately shakes her head, hair flying everywhere and eyes widening in horror at the thought.

“No! Of course I didn’t! I swear!”

“Well there you go then. You just made a mistake my love, everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes they can lead things like a plant dying,” her mom gestures in front of them with one hand while the other brushes tears off her cheeks. “Sometimes they can lead to bad things happening to someone else. But it’s what you do in response to your mistake that really matters. You’re not a bad person Julie, I don’t even think you’d know how to be a bad person.”

Julie sniffed, eyes locked on the plant as she thought over her mom's words and what they meant and what she could do with them.

“Can we get a new plant? And maybe– maybe keep it in the studio so I’ll remember to water it when I go practice?” She turned her eyes up to her mom and was greeted with a wide smile, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“That sounds like a great plan!”

three.

Sometimes you make friends when you’re a little kid and just assume they’re always going to be in your life. Because when you’re a little kid and when you say someone is your best friend, you mean it, whole heartedly and without a single doubt in your mind.

For as long as Julie can remember it had always been the two of them.

Julie and Carrie.

Carrie and Julie.

Best friends forever.

She knew they had met because their parents knew each other, that they’d always gone to the same schools, the same parks. She knew that when Carrie’s mom had left her dad spent three weeks drinking and shouting and playing music too loud, that Carrie had spent the majority of those three weeks at her house. She knew that whenever she learnt a new song that Carrie would have a dance routine worked out within hours.

Julie knew that no matter what went right or wrong in her life, Carrie would be there to have her back.

Because they were best friends.

Nothing had ever really changed in their friendship, not even when they’d met Flynn on the first day of first grade and immediately decided their duo was now a trio. Because they were kids, and when kids declared they were best friends, they meant it.

At least Julie had meant it.

Now, curled up under the covers on her bed, tear tracks on her face and a headache forming behind her eyes, she starts to wonder if Carrie had ever meant it. She starts to reevaluate their entire friendship, her entire childhood. There’s very few memories of the last fourteen years of her life that don’t involve Carrie in some way.

That thought just makes a fresh wave of tears fill her eyes and dampen her pillow.

The words are still echoing in her head. The tone she had used, the hand on her hip, the tossing of her hair, the look of disgust on her face. Julie had seen it all before, she’d just never seen if directed at her or Flynn.

“Don’t you get it? We are not friends anymore. I don’t hang out with pathetic losers like you.”

Around and around in her head the words bounced. Julie doesn’t know what changed from Friday afternoon to Monday morning, doesn’t know what she did or didn’t do, doesn’t know how she’s meant to react other than crying.

Which is apparently one of the many, many, things that make her a pathetic loser.

Along with being childish and unfashionable and boring and not the right type of person for Dirty Candi – a group that Julie had helped her form, encouraged her to start, helped brainstorm a name for and decide on who would wear which colour. A band, that no Julie thought about it, she had never been asked to join. Not once during the whole process did it ever come up.

Julie had never even seen the distance growing between them. Hadn’t noticed when Carrie decided on who she wanted to be, and who that person was didn’t need someone like Julie around.

Twenty minutes later, with Julie still hiding under her duvet and some playlist of sad songs playing on youtube, Flynn comes through the door. Dropping her bag next to the bed and joining her under the covers. Julie turns to face her, closing out of the app so they’re left in silence. Flynn’s been crying too, she notes, because Carrie had ended her friendship with both of them. Said mean and hurtful things about both of them.

“Carrie’s a bitch,” Flynn mutters her eyes on the ceiling but there’s no real heat in her words. They’re both too in shock and sadness right now, Julie realises. Do you have to go through the five stages of grief even if the person you lost hasn’t died? She’s never thought about that before.

“Yeah, she is,” Julie agrees. Because it’s true. Carrie has always been a little bit of a bitch, she’s just never directed it at them. In fact she’d never actually been so outright mean to anyone and in the back of her mind, Julie wonders what happened in the forty eight hours that they didn’t see her.

They’ll probably never find out the answer to that question. It’s just a fact of life that Julie is going to have to come to terms with, she supposes. Her and Carrie had been best friends once. They weren’t anymore.

Her mom finds them twenty minutes later still tucked under the duvet and concocting plans on how they can possibly egg Carries house without being caught. She leans against the doorframe, her cheek pressing to the wood as she crosses her arms over her chest and smiles at them both.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate and we come up with a plan that doesn’t involve you two doing anything illegal, huh?” And who are they to say no to hot chocolate when they’re sad?

four.

Music had never been about being the best or winning or even competitions to Julie. It had always been about the emotions, the lyrics, the actual music. That’s not to say she didn’t like it when she won though. Because she did. She very much liked it when a group of strangers gathered together and decided she was the best of the bunch.

So it also hurt when she didn’t win. Even if the loss was deserved. She’d messed up the intro to the song, had forgotten some of the lyrics half way through, had even been a little out of tune at the beginning she knew.

So she knew she wasn’t going to win. But it still sucked. It especially sucked when Carrie strolled past, tossing her hair over her shoulder and glancing in her direction before saying something that made her friends laugh long and loud. Julie felt her face flushing, tucked a stray curl behind her ear before pulling it back free and trying to hide her face behind it.

It wasn’t that losing in a silly school music competition was really a big deal. It was just one really bad performance that just happened to be a little more important than any of her previous ones. It didn’t count for a grade, it wouldn’t go on her report card or in her file. It was something she’d signed up for for fun. For a laugh.

She just happened to be the one people were laughing at. Which just, it really sucked. There was no other way to describe it.

She said as much later when she sat on the sofa and Carlos wandered into the room, a box of cereal tucked under one arm with a handful of the stuff in the other, and asked what was wrong. He stands in silence for a few seconds, stuff the cereal into his mouth before coming to some kind of conclusion and sitting next to her on the sofa, offering her some of his cereal. It’s enough to jerk a surprised laugh out of Julie as she accepts the offer.

“You’re way better than all those people at your school. I should know, I have to listen to you sing all the time,” he says it so matter of factly. And even though he’s nine year old and hasn’t heard anyone else from her school perform (other than Carrie and Flynn, but he dislikes Carrie on principle and knows that Flynn didn’t perform) Julie finds herself believing him for a moment.

She leans back on the sofa, pulling Carlos down with her with one arm around his shoulders until they’re sprawled together, box of cereal between them.

“You’re a good brother,” she mutters, tries to make it sound like a rare admittance to the fact, even if Julie often thinks it.

“In that case will you watch Ben10 with me? There’s new episodes out.” He grins at her, big and toothy because he knows that she doesn’t like the animation of the new Ben10 but that she’s never quite been able to say no to him when he asks.

So Julie huffs out a sigh, disentangles her arms from around his shoulders to reach for the remote and flips through the channels until she finds the right one then settles back down next to him.

They share the box of cereal, sheepish smiles on their faces when their mom comes through half an hour later and finds them covered in crumbs and giggling at the screen. She just shakes her head at them, but there’s a fond sort of smile on her lips that Julie knows means she’s more amused then annoyed.

As they all sit around the dinner table later that evening, Julie arguing with Carlos about how much better the original Ben10 was and her dad nodding along as if he knows what they’re talking about and her mom humming some new song she’s been working on under her breath, she forgets all about losing some silly little music competition.

five.

Julie had never really thought about it before – mostly because she’d never had to spend much time in one – but hospitals were strange places.

They were a bit like airports she decided. Places where time lost all sense of reality. It must have something to do with the lights, she thinks, how they’re never turned off. You could walk into one at two in the afternoon (lights bright) and leave at three in the morning (the lights still bright) without even realising it had been more than an hour.

The difference was, she supposed, that if you were in an airport you were probably going somewhere nice and fun. You might even get a fun meal and a new book. There’d be people crowded at the windows to wave at planes as they left. An airport was a strange place but it had an underlying feeling of fun and excitement about it.

Hospitals just screamed dread and worry. And, if she could go her whole life without ever stepping foot in another hospital Julie would.

She finds herself thinking the same thing about the studio garage as she stands outside it. One door is open and she can see half the piano, papers sitting on the top and the plants she had helped pick out waiting to be watered.

That’s why she’s stood there, she needs to go in and water the plants. But she just can’t make herself take the next step, the one that will have her crossing the door and being inside. Julie doesn’t think she’s ever been inside the studio without her mom. Or without knowing that her mom would be joining her inside in a few minutes.

Julie doesn’t know how long she stands there for, one hand gripping the door handle tightly while the other shakes at her hand, fingers trying to find purchase in the soft material of her black skirt.

She needs to water the plants, it’s the only thing in her mind.

She needs to water the plants because she had promised her mom she’d water them when they’d gone to the store to pick them out even though they’d split it between them.

She needs to water the plants because it’s been a week and they’ll start to die soon and Julie doesn’t want to be a plant murder again.

She needs to water the plants because her mom is dead and it's her job now.

Flynn finds her still standing there, staring at the piano and the plants and the quite empty room. Dimly, Julie notices the black dress her friend is wearing, the muted accessories and the concern in her eyes.

“Hey,” she says. And it’s quiet, careful in a way that Flynn is rarely quiet and careful when she speaks.

“I need to water the plants.” Is all Julie can say, unable to draw her eyes away from where they are in the garage.

Because she needs to water the plants but she can’t make herself step foot in the garage because her mom is dead and it’s the funeral in an hour but she needs to water the plants because there’s no one else who knows where the watering can is or which ones need spraying instead but she can’t move because her mom is dead and the studio is quite and the plants are dying and her mom is dead.

“Okay. Okay, how about you tell me what to do and I’ll water them, yeah?” Flynn is holding her hand, the one she’d had gripped painfully tight to the door handle. Julie doesn’t even know when she took it. She’s not sure if she nods or makes some kind of sound, all she knows is that Flynn is squeezing her hand quickly and then she’s in the studio garage and following the instructions Julie forces past her lips.

When she’s done Flynn helps her close the door, lock it up and leads her back into the house. There’s family and friends already milling about. Offering condolences and deepest regrets and offering empty help. Julie can see her dad and Tia Victoria talking to a large group of people. Can see them keeping it together.

She can see Carlos sitting at the dining room table with an untouched mug of something in front of him and watches as Carrie sits down next to him. Watches as she says something that makes him smile just a little, because Carrie had always been able to make Carlos smile, even when he was mad or upset at them all. They used to joke it was her super power.

Julie didn’t even know Carrie was coming today. Doesn’t know how she’s meant to feel about it either.

As if sensing them looking Carrie looks up, makes eye contact and gives her a small smile, a tilt of her head. There’s something in her eyes that Julie can’t decipher. Doesn’t have the energy to try to. Flynn squeezes her hand once even as Julie nods back at Carrie. They haven’t been friends in a long time, but they used to be best friends and Carrie had once been like family.

She supposes it makes sense that Carrie is here. That she is sitting next to Carlos and talking to him quietly. That she can see Mr Wilson talking to her dad. It’s been a long time since either of them were in this house and Julie wishes that they weren’t here because of this.

Julie supposes she should be good at losing things and people by now. She’s learnt to deal with it via a fish and plants and friends. She’d just never thought the thing she’d be losing would be her mom. That she would have to find a way through all this hurt without her mom by her side. Because she had always been by her side through every other loss.

She cries quietly, stood in the kitchen with Flynn holding her hand tightly and people passing by them with sad looks on their faces and concern in their eyes.

She cries quietly as she thinks about how cruel and awful the world is for taking away one of the people she loves most.

She cries quietly as she wonders how the hell she is supposed to get through it all.

+one.

They’re not sure when it happens or what's changed or what they did. One day they just wake up and things are different.

Or, not different per say, but more how they used to be BHD – before the hot dogs. Which is what the boys insist on calling their stint as ghosts no matter how many times Julie vetoes it. And she’s vetoed it a lot.

Really, the first sign that something had happened should have been the fact Julie walked in on them piled on top of each other on the sofa in the living room, passed out asleep. They were ghosts. Ghosts weren’t meant to sleep. But she brushes it aside, thinks maybe it's more of a reflex thing.

It isn’t until three hours later as she hugs Reggie in celebration of a particularly good shot with the basketball outside that Julie notices the thing that’s different.

She can feel his heart beating in his chest. A steady thumping where there hadn’t been before.

“Reggie…” she starts, eye wide as she looks from his chest to his face, trying to see if he’s noticed. If he knows that his heart is beating blood around his body. But he just looks at her confused, his eyebrows drawing together and his lips quirking to the side like they do when he thinks he’s in trouble.

“I swear I didn’t cheat. I’m just that good!” He holds his hands up in defense, but Julie reaches out to grab his left wrist and cradles it in one hand while she presses two fingers along the inside, trying to find his pulse point like she’s seen doctors do (she blinks back the memories of the last time she saw a doctor press their fingers to someones wrist, searching for something that wasn’t there and the small shake of their head) and letting out a small gasp when she finds it.

“Er what’s going on over here?” Luke asks curiously as he eyes the way Julie is holding Reggies wrist and the growing realisation on Reggie’s face.

Julie doesn’t answer him, just reaches out to grab hold of Luke’s wrist and proceeds to do the same thing. Fingertips pressing into the soft skin on his wrist, and for the first time Julie sees the light blue tell-tale sign of blood flowing through veins under his skin.

And then she feels it, the faint pulsating.

She lets out a choked sob, letting her hand that was holding his wrist steady fly up cover her mouth even as the other stays in place, almost scared that if she moves her fingers the pulse will vanish and with it this strange miracle she thinks they’ve been given.

“Holy shit,” she hears Luke whispers above her and she looks up to see him with his free hand resting over his heart, eyes widening with each beat they can both feel.

She doesn’t have any words to say in response. Holy shit seems to be a pretty accurate reaction. Still holding on to Lukes wrist, Julie turns around to see Alex and Reggie each holding the other's wrist like some strange handshake. Unconsciously they all seem to move towards each other, in awkward small steps as no one is prepared to let go of the other until they stand in a loose circle and Julie can press her fingers into Alex’s free wrist and feel his pulse too.

Three pulses where there hadn't been one before. She lets out a half laugh, half sob.

“Is this real?” Alex asks, his eyes wide with unshed tears, as if he’s holding himself back. And Julie remembers when they all first met and how he’d said he never dealt well with change and how death was a big change and how now. Now they might be going through a bigger one. She lets her fingers slip down from his wrist so she’s holding his hand and squeezes it tightly.

“I think so.”

There has never been any answers for their situation. For being ghosts. For being seen by Julie or seen when they play. Definitely no answers for why they could suddenly be touched or seen by others. (Though secretly, in the dark of her room in the dead of night Julie had wondered if it was love that had done it all. Her love for them, her mom's love for her.)

The last two years had just been them guessing at every turn and getting lucky each time. They had written their own ghostly rule book, and getting a heartbeat again would just have to be the newest chapter.

“We’ll just have to figure it out, like we’ve figured everything else out,” Julie says, squeezing Alex’s hand and Luke’s wrist and smiling wide at Reggie. A few moments of silence pass between them, the boys still feeling their hearts beating, counting each one before it’s broken by a startled gasp and they all look to Luke.

“Hey! Do you think this means we can eat now?” Luke asks, his eyebrows shooting up at the thought. No doubt already planning what he wants from the kitchen.

“Only one way to find out man,” Reggie shrugs but his smile is wide and Julie knows not being able to eat has been one of the biggest disappointments of their afterlife for all three of them.

That’s how her dad and Carlos find them half an hour later, gathered around the island in the kitchen with sandwich ingredients scattered around all available surfaces. And three not-so-ghosts eating their creations as Julie looks on with a wide smile.

“Um–” is all dad gets out, a hand half up in the air as he points at them with confusion. Her dad has been pretty understanding about the whole ‘my band is made up of three teenage ghosts, oh, and by the way they kinda live in our garage’ thing, but she can’t blame him for being confused by this scene. Ghosts aren’t supposed to be able to eat after all.

“Woah what did we miss!?” Carlos, ever the enthusiast for all things ghost related, is already running across the kitchen, pulling out the chair next to Julie’s and kneeling next to her, eyes darting between the three older boys as he leans on the contertop to be even closer. “Are they eating? How are they eating?”

Julie shrugs one shoulder, turning her eyes to Carlos and her dad, who’s moved from the doorway to stand at the end of the island, watching all of them.

“We’re not sure but–” Julie starts only to be cut off by Reggie who drops his sandwich back to his plate and stretches out his arms, one to her dad and one to Carlos with possibly the widest smile Julie has ever seen on him.

“Check this out. Go on, feel y’know, with your middle and forefinger. Right there, yeah.” The four of them watch as her dad and Carlos do as instructed, fingers resting over the pulse points on Reggie’s wrists. Her dad finds it first, and Julie can pinpoint the exact moment he must feel the thrumming of a heartbeat because his eyes widen a fraction even as they fill with tears she hadn’t been expecting.

Which is silly, if she really thinks about it, because the boys have found a way into all their lives and hearts so seamlessly.

Because Reggie spends time with her dad helping out around the kitchen or while he fiddles with his camera and jokes around with Carlos and talks with him late at night when he’s supposed to be sleeping.

Because Alex watches all the terrible telenovela’s with him that her and Carlos hate and asks questions about all the movies they’ve missed, and he spends time helping Carlos with his history homework and practices his ball throwing when their dad is busy.

Because Luke listens to him talk about composition and lighting and perspective with real interest and takes his music suggestions seriously and has been teaching Carlos to play guitar when they think no one is around.

They’ve filled a gap in their family that they hadn’t even realised was there.

It wasn’t like their home was lacking in love and laughter and light, it had just been dimmed down. It was like they’d shut all their curtains after her mom had died, and were making do with a cheap light bulb and rare rays of sunlight that peaked through and lit up their life in tiny bursts.

But then along came three dead teenagers and without them noticing, without Julie even realising, they’d opened up the curtains again. Let all the light stream back in and never asked for anything in return other than being allowed to stick around.

So maybe this was their reward.

As her dad and Carlos worked their way through feeling the pulse on each of the boys, pulling them into hugs and sharing in their excitement, Julie let herself smile, tears trailing down her cheeks as she felt her own heartbeat with one hand over her chest.

She didn’t know if this was her mom’s doing or her own or if they’d just accidentally done it themselves with sheer will power.

All Julie knew was that her boys were here, were breathing and eating, had hearts beating in their chests, and were being given their second chance at life.

All Julie really knew was that she loved them, had hoped for a way to keep them, had proud every bit of love and hope into each hug they’d ever shared.

All Julie knew was that she wished she could thank whoever or whatever it was that was answering her pleaded request and allowing her to keep them.

She doesn’t notice them moving, too busy thinking and sending thanks into the world, but all of a sudden there are three pairs of arms wrapping themselves around her in an uncomfortable and awkward hug. But she doesn’t care. She just grabs onto whoevers arm she can, lets out a small laugh of joy and holds them tight. Never intending on letting them go.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #carrie wilson #flynn jatp #luke patterson #alex jatp #reggie jatp #jatp #enjoy!!! sorry the ends a wee bit naff tho i think #rosie vs writing #*#*fics

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theobxhummingbird · 4 years

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Hero.-Luke Patterson x Reader.

Summary: Luke’s the reason, he found his forever love.

A/N: Anonymous requested a Luke Patterson x Reader imagine, and here’s one I started writing a day ago. I hope you like it anonymous. Thank you for requesting an imagine. The one that also got suggested, will be posted later, just need to finish writing it. 🥰

Emily and Mitch, have been grieving their son for 25 years. The friendly couple, who everyone knew for their unproblematic selves, were living their biggest pain every day of their lives. Mitch was getting better, but his wife Emily seemed to get worse.

But, until their guardian angel, was sent to look after Emily, everything changed in the Patterson household. The windows were opened and light came in the house. Instead of paying her money, Y/N wanted them to plant a flower, every time they feel better. It was also making them feel better, and their dried out garden was getting a new taste of life.

Although, Emily seemed happy in some moments. Whenever Y/N went home, she closed herself in a room and looked at photos of Luke; their 17-year-old son, who died 25 years ago, without making up with his parents. And it was the biggest pain for the family, to have said goodbye to their son, without saying their sorrys to each other.

Mitch called Y/N and told her that she needs to immediately pay them a visit. Slipping her shoes on, and taking her jacket and guitar bag, barely even putting the jacket on, Y/N was running from her home, to get to the Patterson household.

When she knocked on the door, Mitch opened fast and led her to the bedroom, where Emily had locked herself.

-This Julie girl came and brought a song Luke had written about Emily. And she hadn’t come out of the bedroom from then.

-Mitch, I got her. Come on, let’s settle you in the living room. -she said, leading Mitch to the armchair, and giving him a glass of water.

-Emily, it’s Y/N. -she slowly knocked on the door.

-Y/N dear don’t make yourself tired dear. Nothing will work after what I’ve found out about my son. -she cried from the other side of the door.

-Emily, but how am I going to know what had happened if you don’t tell me?

-Y/N, please, I need to be alone.

-No, no more alone. We’ll do this together. Come on, please come out of the room. Is it okay for Mitch to go through two striking pains in his life? His son’s death and the lack of presence of his wife? Come on please, if you love me.

A pair of feet approached the door, and the key clicked, opening the door; Emily came outside with a piece of paper.

-This is the song he wrote me. ‘’Unsaid Emily”. -she said, giving her the paper.

The three of them were sat around the table. Y/N was reading the song, while Mitch and Emily sat quietly, waiting for her.

-Here’s what we’ll do. -she jogged over to the hallway, where her guitar was placed. She came back, and settled herself with it. -I don’t know if the song’s supposed to go this way, but I’ll try and sing it for you okay? Then we can frame it and hang it somewhere in the house. I want you two, to hold hands and close your eyes.

Mitch and Emily did as told, and Y/N started to play. Her voice filled the room, and somehow, magically, a figure approached the table. Y/N’s eyes shot up at him, but after he realized she can see him, his pointing finger was placed on his nose, and gestured her to keep going.

Y/N’s whole body shook, and she didn’t know if she was the one going crazy, or all of this was real. Luke Patterson; Emily and Mitch’s son, was sat on the chair next to her, crying his eyes out while looking at his parents.

-....unsaid Emily. -she finished the song. The couple opened their eyes, and felt like born again. Y/N gestured Mitch that she got Emily, and he left the table. She quickly glanced at Luke, and he nodded a ‘no’, so she doesn’t say anything to Emily. -Look Emily. We can’t do this anymore, if you don’t help me. Do you ever think how miserable Mitch is, to have his wife fade away from him? Do you ever think about how Luke would’ve felt that his mother’s sinking in her pain because of him? If we’re born for one thing in this world, is apologizing to the people we love. I know, I know by heart, if there was even the slightest possibility of bringing Luke back, you’ll be the first one to do it. But life is some sort of unexplainable power, that no human can explain it. We should fight to stay alive though, for ourselves, and for the people we love. If you decided not to live as Emily, then live for Luke; live for Mitch; live for the people you love. Look, there’s so many days that’ll be filled with sadness for your son, because you always carry him in your heart, since the day you found out he’ll soon be born. Now please, if we’re going to live Luke every day, you need to help me. Will you do that?

The key of persuasion; sweet talk and calmness. Emily nodded her head, and placed her hand on top of Y/N’s. -I will. I will help you Y/N, just because I want to mutually give back everything you need. Taking care of me isn’t easy. We had so many people come for help, but none of theme were like you. They gave up the same day, and you’re still here; sitting across from me and trying to give out all your time to help me. Thank you so much. If you and Luke somehow could’ve met before he died, and if you were his age, then he’ll be in love with you from head to heels.

Y/N awkwardly smiled and glanced at Luke, who was dying in his shyness, -He did what he wanted to in his life Emily. He wrote music. Look, he even wrote what he felt. Music is a feeling, that awakens every emotion in our body. Luke only wanted to show you that this was what made him happy. And from now on, we’ll always play music in this house, okay?

-We will, for Luke.

-For Luke. -Y/N smiled.

After she calmed Emily down, she came to the kitchen and called Luke over. -How can I see you, one? What are you doing, two? What is going on, three? Can you speak, four?

-I don’t know how can you see me, because only Julie can see us. I came to see my mother, and when you were there I didn’t think you can see me. What is going on? I don’t know, it’s a mystery to me too. And yes of course I can speak. -he answered all her questions. -Are you taking care of my mother?

-Yes. I’m Y/N. -she put out her hand. Luke glanced at it, and he contemplated on shaking it or not, because he knew he couldn’t touch her But the try was worth it, so he went in to shake it. And---he shook it. Magically, he shook it. Y/N seemed to have realized that she’s normally not supposed to be able to touch him and pulled her hand. -Wait. How can I touch you?

-I don’t know. Somehow.

-Are you alive and lying to us?

-If I was alive, my parents could have seen me at the table, right?

-Yes, that’s a logical answer. -she tried to convince herself first, -You’ll be here every day?

-Why are you asking? -he smirked and leaned on the counter.

-Because, Luke Patterson, I can see you and it’ll be hard for me to proceed my job like this.

-See you’re right, -he fixed the collar of his jacket, - any girl would’ve gotten distracted as well if a smoking hot guy like me stood there in front of them the whole time.

-You’re like an advertisement for yourself promotion. And you’re most definitely not serious. -she shook her head, and smirked at him, walking to Mitch and Emily. -Hey Emily. There’s something really important I need to tell you.

Luke rushed to the living room and tried to stop her from saying anything, but Mitch and Emily were making weird faces at her swinging body, -I can see your---sink is leaking water. We should call a plumber before it causes a bigger problem.

-Okay dear, I’ll check it later, don’t worry, -said Mitch, and the both of them got back to watching TV. Y/N winked at Luke, and returned to the kitchen.

-I thought you were going to tell them. -he sighed.

-Jokes aside, I need to really help your mum, Luke. She won’t be better if I don’t get mutual support from Mitch, and mutual help from Emily.

-Thank you for taking care of my mum. -he smiled, while staring deeply into her eyes. Y/N let herself do the same, since what Emily said earlier, it kind of caught her in a warm feeling, knowing the boy’s also listening.

-Uh---you’re welcome. -she said, -I need to leave. See you tomorrow.

After waving a goodbye to Emily and Mitch, Y/N left the house and started walking to her house, where sadly, her drunk mother would be waiting for her. It was an every day war for her, and she kept fighting more and more, but it was the one thing she wasn’t successful at.

The house was filled with the smell of alcohol, and even a glass bottle rolled to the tip of her shoes when she opened the door. It stunk of left out food, and she couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving her things outside, so they don’t end up stinking like the house, Y/N filled a bucket of soapy water and started cleaning the house. Other days, she tried not to wake up her aggressive mother, but this time she didn’t care. She had enough of her.

-Miss Y/N, you finally remembered the way back to you house. -she sluggishly sat down at the table, barely even making it to the chair, but she did it somehow. -And that you have a mother at home, that maybe is hungry. Make me a toast or something.

Y/N answered to her orders in a calm state, which was confusing her mother every day. She was a bold person, but never raised her voice at nobody. She made her a toast, beautifully wrapping it in a tissue and even squeezed some fresh orange juice in a cup, as well as a cup of coffee for the both of them. Y/N placed everything in front of her mother.

-This time, I’ll talk and you’ll listen, because I’ve really had enough of you living like an animal, rather than a human being, who can take care of themselves if they want to. -she said, and took a sip of her coffee, -I give you a day to think my words through. If, tomorrow I find you in a drunken state, and this house in the same mess as today, I’ll take things into my own hands. Till this day, I didn’t say no to anything you ordered; like a little robot you controlled me around, but this time I am going to stand up for myself. You caused everything that’s happening in our life. We don’t have food some days, because the money I bring home from my job at the restaurant don’t keep up with the bills and food at the same time. I don’t take money from Mitch and Emily, because I just can’t do that to those people, who accept me more as a daughter than you do. Mum, responsibility is being the solution to every problem. And you’re only the cause and wait for others to do things for you in life. Did I ask to be born? No. But here I am, in your life, in this world, now in other people’s lives. Aren’t you a bit aware that your child will ever want to have a parent they’ll look up to? I think you are not, because we’re here talking about it. Until tomorrow, I want you to take a shower, change into some clean clothes, brush your hair, make yourself something to eat if you want to stay alive in this life, and go find a job. I don’t care how you’ll do it, but I want you to come with a result to me. Now, I’m going to prepare my bag for school tomorrow, and go to bed. You’re going to wash the plate and cups, and do whatever you want, or do what I told you. It’s up to you. Good night.

It was the first night, Y/N went to sleep without crying, as well as Emily and Mitch, and it all resulted to being aware of what’s important in life. Luke observed the entire conversation Y/N had with her mother, and couldn’t believe what he’s listening to. She seemed like a bold, emotional, caring person, and it caught him in one big question mark, and the only way of clearing things out, was just sitting alone and thinking about it.

-She’s a hero .-he whispered under his breath. He smiled, it was one of admirement towards a person that’s in his parents’ life. And, it was really unexplainable, and Luke needed time to understand what’s starting to grow in his heart.

Julie was always the girl he thought they were meant to be with each other. And he still thought that way. But as the days passed by, and he got to spend more time with Y/N and his family, he got to know her even more. An amazing person was succeeding in everything she put her mind to in front of his eyes. Her mother woke up from her drunken dream, and started to take responsibility for everything. Even though, Y/N still didn’t give her way for loveable connections with her, they had a communication every day.

Luke secretly sneaked at night, to watch her play the guitar, or prepare a present for Emily. She even made an album for the family, of all their unforgettable moments. The Patterson garden was now filled with flowers, which meant the talking helped them get better. Y/N persuaded them to go on a road trip, and have alone time with each other, just to enjoy each other’s company. They got a dog, which Y/N found it as a distraction of sadness, and it helped.

She fixed everyone, expect one person. Luke. She trapped his mind, his life, his home, his heart, everything he owned in his life. And he had enough of the feeling that kept growing in his heart. Reggie reminded him every day, that it’s called love, but he never tried to look at it that way. Until, one day, when he observed her talking to his mum.

-I’m so happy. I’m so so so happy, Y/N, and all because of you. -she said and placed a hand to where Y/N’s heart was, -This thing, is golden, and I’m so glad it beats in health every day. You came into our life, and somehow succeeded in changing everything. You changed me, you changed Mitch, you changed the feeling of his home; it’s something really amazing. We love you so much our hero.

-Thank you, Emily, thank you for accepting me in this home, and always looking after me if I needed anything. You’re the best parents anyone could ask for.

-I made a lemon pie, go treat yourself a piece. I’ll finish with cleaning. -she tapped her hand and sat up to go and do her job around the house.

Y/N felt well, after a long time, she felt relaxed. Opening the cupboard, she took out a plate, and placed a piece of Emily’s lemon pie.

-She used to make me a lemon pie, whenever I did well in school, or I listened to her. -said a voice, that made her jump a bit.

-It’s really tasty, let me tell you. -she talked with her mouth stuffed.

-Let me see. -said Luke, and leaned, placing a kiss to her lips, and pulling away. -Hm, it really is tasty.

Y/N stood dumbfounded, and she couldn’t move her body. It was as if her system stopped sending signals to her brain. Luke took the plate from her hands and placed it on the counter, then taking a hold of them. -For days I’ve observed the fight you led with life, and couldn’t do anything than sit and admire you from afar. Like mum said, this thing, is golden, and it’s really a pleasure to know it’s beating every day. It’s got me trapped in this unexplainable feeling, and I couldn’t get out of it for a long time, Y/N. I love you; all I know is that I love you so much. Being able to touch you is not a coincidence. We’re meant to be. You and I.

-I know it’s really hard for you, to see another person being able to touch your parents. But I promise you, I touch them and have you in mind. I want them to feel that you’re alive in all our hearts. -she said, and cleared her throat, -Also---our feelings are mutual, and as I see have been for a long time. I just couldn’t bring myself to telling you. But I love you, so much Luke.

He smiled, and his face arose in happiness. He leaned and placed a kiss to her lips, but when he heard Emily, Y/N pulled his hand and brought him behind her.

-Dear, can you bring me a glass of water please? Thank you. -she said, and disappeared in the living room again.

-S-sure. -Y/N said after her.

-It’s really nice to know I’ll have you around from now on. -he kissed her cheek, and spun her to fill a glass of water for Emily. -Bye my hero.

-Bye. -she woke up from her confusion, and placed two kisses on his cheeks.

#luke patterson x reader #luke x y/n #luke patterson jatp #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp series #luke patterson x you #julie and the phantoms #fantoms

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wastelandcrown · 4 years

Text

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 7: you matter to me (the terrifying tales of the grimm monarchy)

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Mr. and Mrs. Grimm’s A+ parenting, panic attacks, unconventional sibling problems/dynamics, very brief disappearance (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please ask!! All feedback is very welcomed, I didn’t have anyone to beta so *sighs loudly*. This chapter is kinda angsty and opens up some fun new plot relevant strings. I also want to make it clear that I will be demonstrating Roman putting in work to fix his mess ups in later chapters as well! He’s got some loose ends to tie up, and he will do so.

Pairings: Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, Creativitwins

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @im-actually-ok @hauntedturkeycalzonedreamer @croftersjam15 @rainbowsixth @snaketho @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @a-soul-among-the-stars @sweet-razz-tea @the-cactus-lord @genderlessfish

Janus’ eyes move to Logan, they seem to communicate without a breath between them. Logan takes nothing but his phone with him when he heads into the hall, but it’s far too late. Remus is nowhere in sight.

Roman takes a shuddering sigh, places his head in his hands, and leans against the makeup counter.

“I’m-I’m sorry-I don’t-I don’t know what that was-”

“Yes, you do.”

The room feels so uncomfortable, the tension could be cut with a knife. Roman knows Janus well enough to know his glare cuts sharper than any weapon could ever. Especially to him. His face stays firmly planted in his hands, hiding from the truth he’s been avoiding for far too long.

“Roman, look at me,” Janus orders.

He listens and keels back in shame at the look of anger and disappointment on his friend’s face.

“Tell me the truth, why are you doing this?”

It’s a good question. For all it’s worth though, he doesn’t know. Which seems like the cop-out of the century, but truly...he has no clue at the moment. That, however, is not an answer Janus will accept and not one he will accept of himself.

With a deep breath, he thinks “Alright, Roman. Be honest. Why are you doing this?”

Within moments he gets it and it is the easiest conclusion he’s ever come to. The twins have always had a very sturdy dichotomy. Remus was a messy and wild child growing up, while Roman was clean and polite. When they played, there was always a good and just prince and an evil conniving duke. There were good marks and bad marks. Good ideas and bad ideas. Clean and messy. Good and evil. Something nice and something terrible. Even in the eyes of their parents. It didn’t matter to them as children, Remus even seemed to enjoy it on occasion. Looking back, he only ever liked being “bad” when he got to choose it. When they played in their yard and there was a choice between swimming in the pool and scooping water onto the grass to “drown the bugs”, he was the happiest child in the universe. When the school called their father and told him that Remus had been in another fight, he looked like someone had ripped his soul from his body. It didn’t matter the reason he was fighting, he was “bad”. Roman had always thought the merit of the fight was dictated by why you were fighting in the first place, but apparently, he was wrong.

The dichotomy they played into was fun! It was! For a while, at least. Then Roman began being berated by everyone around him for acting similarly to his brother. Then Remus was the new social outcast months before they hit middle school. Then it wasn’t fun anymore. Being “good” was stressful and lonely. Teachers, classmates, friends, family, everyone equated “good” with perfect. Perfection is a hard burden to bear alone and twelve years old. Roman’s mind drifts to when they split up. When the dichotomy became less of a two-person game played for fun, and more of an ugly sweater from an aunt that they had to wear to every formal event. It was hard, it was always much too hard. It hurt him. Recently, he realized the much heavier burden of being “bad”. The stress and loneliness must be tenfold when everyone beats into your brain that you are the perfect example of the “Evil Twin” trope. Even your own brother. Your twin.

“Everyone told me,”

They had been a pair once.

“‘Roman, you’re such a good kid, you’re good at everything.’”

They were a good pair. Even now. He’d worked with him just a month ago to put something together and it was amazing.

“‘There is nothing you can’t do!’”

A few months ago, he was doing something he hadn’t thought possible and making amends with his brother.

“To them, I was independent and self-sufficient,”

He wasn’t either of those things, not then and not now. He had always been a pair.

“I was perfect. I had to be.”

The catch is that he gave up the only person who didn’t care if he was perfect.

“I thought it was true, I-”

The catch is that now his actions dawn on him fully like a wave over the shore.

“I needed them to be right.”

His breath shakes, “Who am I if I’m not that?”

The wave of grief and guilt crashes into him, and all he can think about now is how much he wants to take back every single mean thing he’s ever said about his brother. He feels the sea of emotions that he’s held back take him in and drown him with ferocity. Janus sighs as Roman stares at him through watery eyes.

“Roman. You were doing so well with Remus.”

He’s right, Janus is always right about these things. Two months ago, he had been doing so much better. He and Remus were still bickering in public, but it was fun to him. Though when Remus had “glue-and-feather’d” his makeup bag, he had thrown a little fit, he laughed about it later. Remus had laughed with him. It was light and fun. May, June, and most of July were the most fun he’d had with Remus in years. They’d spent time together, helped each other with chores, ridden to the theatre together. Little, minuscule things. Things that made such a tremendous difference in Roman’s confidence.

“What happened?”

The same thing that always happened. His mother came home

There was always something different about his mother. When he and Remus had befriended Janus in elementary school, they met someone else's mother for the first time. He realized the day he had met her what made his mom so different. Lillian Devine, or as they called her Mrs.Lilli, was quite possibly the strangest woman they had ever met. The first time they saw her, Janus had seen her outside the school and made a beeline for his mother’s arms. She took him up into her arms, gave him a spin, and hugged him tightly. Roman doesn’t remember much from being that young, but he can remember the first moment he felt jealousy was when Lillian took Janus into that hug and loudly announced that she missed him. Only gone a day at school, and she missed him enough to announce it to the world. He remembers going home to a very big, very empty house. He was grumpy, clutching Remus’ hand like a lifeline as their nanny ushered them into their room and told them she would collect them at dinner time. When she collected them, Roman asked if she had missed them. She said, “I’m not your mother, am I?”.

His mother was different. When she came home, she would offer Roman a hug and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Every time, even the most recent. Like clockwork. Roman, sometimes accompanied by Remus, would wait outside the door for his mother’s car to arrive. She would exit and her heels would clack along the stone pathway. She would kiss him on the cheek when she got up the steps, offer him a quick hug, then begin to speak about her latest adventures in Paris. If Remus stood with him, she would give him her coat. Roman would always take it from him, hang it up, and follow his mother wherever she went. Recently the thought of their mother handing Remus her coat made Roman want to puke.

They’d had dinner together one night in July. On her most recent visit, she told stories of her new revolutionary fashion line. He told her all about the newest theatre show. Remus made an effort to sit with them, and it was a labour for Roman to look at his mother when he spoke instead of Remus. He was there for all his anecdotes but he would still hang off of every word just to find something to prod at. Remus stood, and his mother’s words echoed in his brain.

“Remus, dear,” His mother begins in her shrill voice, “If you’re not going to eat with us, at least go and shower. Your smell is unbecoming.”

He latches onto that conversation, that’s really when the downfall started.

“Mother, that was quite rude…” He says softly, keeping his eyes on his plate.

“Sometimes you have to tell the truth, my darling.” She laughs then, and Roman wants more than anything to get up and chase his brother.

“Speaking of your theatre production,” He turns his attention back to her, “Your father is thinking of coming this year.”

All thoughts of defending his brother leave his brain entirely. His mouth dries and he feels the onset of excitement and pure panic. At that moment he is consumed by selfishness and tries to push away the panic and think only of this dream come true.

“He’ll be happy to hear you got the lead again,”

“But Mother, I told you, I’m only-”

“Yes, the understudy. You’ll change that, won’t you, my darling? I didn’t raise you to get second place, did I?”

He was good. What he was doing was good. He couldn’t disappoint his mother, let alone his father. Truth be told, he barely even spoke to the man except for their short and brief calls on the major holidays. He hadn’t seen him in person in nearly two years. He’d outgrown the excuse of him being busy but hadn’t outgrown the fire that a visit from his father lights inside him. It became even worse when after two feeble attempts to be rid of Logan, his father called him. Unprompted, unscheduled, and entirely without cause. He buzzed when he picked up the phone.

“Roman.”

“Hello, father.” He can barely contain the happiness buzzing around in his throat.

“I have made time in my schedule to come to see your stage performance at the request of your mother. She has told me you landed the lead role again, I can’t say I’m not impressed. This is the sixth year in a row she has asked me, you know. I hope there is some merit to your casting director’s choice.”

He can barely keep himself sat down, the urge to jump around is so intense that he nearly dies. “Oh, certainly! I won’t let you down! Oh! And neither will Remus, he’s entirely spectacular in his role this year, I really think you’ll love-”

“I am not attending this production to see your brother. I trust you won’t let me down, because unlike him, you are not a failure. I will see you then, goodbye.”

In one fell swoop, his father had crushed his mood and strengthened his resolve.

“My father is coming to the production. He called me himself to confirm.”

“The man who talks to you on average thirty minutes a year is coming to our show? Please tell me you’re joking.” The shock is evident in Janus’ voice as he searches Roman’s face desperately to ensure he’s lying.

“I’m not. My mother, she-she told him I got the lead. He told me-He told me that he was impressed with my track record. Then I-Well I started talking about Remus’ spectacular performance and he...He said he wasn’t coming to see Remus and that I-” Roman is on the verge of tears, he feels the urge to crumble like a war-torn kingdom.

Janus places a hand on his shoulder, meant to be a comfort, “That you what?”

Tears track down Roman’s face as he sits and slumps over to physically display his guilt, “That I’m not a failure like him, so I won’t let him down.”

“I am internalizing so much anger at the moment, please give me a second.” Janus takes a deep breath and screams angrily out loud. Roman takes it as initiative and screams as well, but much more wet and sad.

Janus pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“You didn’t think to tell anyone any of this?” Roman shakes his head and sniffles.

Janus mutters to himself, “Right. Of course, you didn’t. You fool.”

“We all know you’re not an absolute prick Roman. You’d obviously just pick on Logan for no reason you’re totally not super stressed or something.” He recoils at that, Janus’ face falls.

“I’m just-Roman-You can talk to me,” Janus speaks with an air entirely too soft for him.

What gets Roman’s attention is the tired and slightly sad, “Lord knows that neither of you does enough.”

“I’m here for you, even if you do some very morally shifty things. Especially if it’s all because you’re all stressed out and your daddy issues are taking centre stage in your mind.” He sits beside him now, taking Roman’s hand in his.

“I know how passionate you are, and I can tell that this isn’t how you want to do it. So, you don’t have to. You have...lots of things to make up for and apologize for. But there is still time. As long as you mean it, and you want to do better.”

Weakly, he mutters “I do.”

“Then find a way to apologize and fix it the way you always do.”

“And what way is that?” He asks with a soft smile, to which Janus chuckles under his breath.

“Facing every and all challenges with courage and honesty. Obviously,” Janus raises a thumb and wipes the tears from Roman’s cheeks with a genuine smile.

So it was settled then. Roman needed to apologize. To everyone. He was already thinking of ways to express his sorrow and regret properly, his brilliant brain spitting out lavish and somewhat laborious ideas. Janus can tell from the way the passionate light returns to his eyes and he smiles. There is work to be done.

The door slams open and an entirely too panicked Virgil stands in the doorway, “Janus-”

Work to be done later. Virgil’s breath is coming in whooping waves, his body is shaking, makeup smudged from anxious tears rolling down his face. Janus moves with purpose, approaching Virgil like a particularly protective guardian. Virgil grabs the fabric of his hoodie and tries to breathe.

“That’s it, Virgil, you’re alright,” He coos, gently placing a hand on his head.

“We can’t-” Virgil speech is messy and laboured, “We-We can’t find Remus-He’s-He’s not picking up his phone-I’m-We-”

Roman’s blood runs cold. Remus has done this before, sure. But it’s always been silly and fun and not motivated by weeks worth of stress and terrible feelings. Roman knows his words were the cherry on the cake, and nearly slaps himself for still being sat there while his brother was who knows where.

Roman grabs Remus’ bag from the floor, opening it to find his phone. There are almost fifty missed messages, most of them from a contact labelled “The Sexy Kind Of Spider” who he can only assume is Virgil.

“His phone’s still here,” He sifts through the bag some more, “Along with his jacket and his car keys.”

“Well, I’d say he can’t have gone far, but we all know how crafty Remus is,” Janus says with a drained expression on his face which only inspires Virgil to clutch his shirt even tighter.

There’s a fire in Roman now, an urge to find his brother’s newest hiding spot and somehow make it up to him. He slings the bag over his shoulder and approaches the pair.

“No need to fear, Virge! I’ll find Remus and bring him back to us as quickly as I can!”

Virgil only nods in response, prompting Janus to gently ruffle his hair. Roman leaves, knowing that the Virgil situation is in very capable hands. On to finding his brother.

He sends a quick text to Thomas debriefing the situation, playing it off as a “typical Remus situation”, and leaves the building. If Remus had been outside the theatre, he certainly wasn’t anymore. Potentially unfortunately from Roman, a certain nerd was out there looking instead. When they made eye contact, Logan approached. He looked...frazzled. Much more so than Roman had ever seen.

“There you are. I was wondering when you would come help. Remus is missing and hasn’t answered his phone.”

“He left it here, but I’m going to go and look for him.”

Logan mutters something under his breath about the inefficiency of something-or-other, but Roman does not have the time to care. Him and Logan talk for another minute, Logan even gives him his number to call when he finds him. Logan says he’s going to get more people to look, Roman only nods. He’s focused in, there’s hope for a new start still and he’ll be damned if he loses it to Remus randomly disappearing forever. He piles into his car with Remus’ bag and starts his search.

Hope turns to fear after the third hour with no signs of his brother. He had checked his house, all the old spots Remus used to love, their whole neighbourhood, Janus’ house, every department store near the theatre. Nothing. It was like a magician cast a spell to make his brother disappear. He’s on the verge of panic. His hands are shaking like a bitch and his breathing wavers with each word he mutters to himself to ease his anxiety. He has to pull over into the parking lot of the convenience store near his home. It wouldn’t be safe for him to drive anywhere anymore. He wonders for a moment how in the hell his brother disappeared so quickly. He only had about thirty minutes on foot ahead of them, how had nobody found him? He almost cries sitting at the wheel. What if he’d been kidnapped? Murdered? Taken for ransom? Wait, that’s the same as kidnapping, isn’t it? God, it didn’t matter now! His brother was gone. For nearly ten minutes he lets the situation hit him hard. Tears roll through his body and he sobs. If Remus was gone forever, what would he do? What could he do?

A worker from the store comes out from the front. They see Roman and Roman sees them. Roman couldn’t care less that they now look incredibly uncomfortable. They move to the back of the store and from Roman can see, they’re talking to someone. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know why he’s watching. He’s still crying like a baby. The thought of having lost his brother to the universe is still making his head pound. The worker gives whoever they’re talking to a smile, walks back inside the store, and from the till inside they give Roman a reassuring smile as well. He gives them a thumbs up. He takes a deep breath. He needs to pull himself together and find-

When Remus turns the corner from behind the store, Roman goes for the door handle before he can think. The sight of his shivering, tear-stained, obviously upset brother has him moving. He rips the door open and scrambles out. He trips over the edge of the car door and it doesn’t even matter. His palms and knees scrape against the concrete, ripping the skin on his hands and hurting his knees. He doesn’t care. It stings and he doesn’t care. The second he’s on his feet again he bolts at Remus and throws his arms around his chest. His head is firmly locked between Remus’ neck and shoulder, he’s grabbing at his shirt like a lifeline. His breathing is erratic, the tears are back now and back with a vengeance. His knees are shaking. He hadn’t even recognized how terribly and horribly scared of losing his brother he even was. Feeling it now was like the first breath of autumn air in your summer lungs. Remus stands there, just stands there. For a moment, the buzzing of his mind recognizes someone saying his name. Then there are arms around him. He’s being squeezed within an inch of his life. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind again.

All Roman’s scared voice can squeak out is a loud and cracking, “I’m sorry!”

They stand together in the chilly late-august afternoon air, in full sight of any neighbours or employees at the store, for five minutes. They sway slightly. Remus doesn’t say a word. Not one passes through his lips. Remus pulls away, only to take Roman’s hand and drag him to the car.

“C’mon you crybaby, let’s go home.”

Roman just nods and doesn’t comment on the tears on Remus’ cheeks. Remus takes the driver’s seat and Roman piles into the passengers’ side. He holds his brother’s bag in his lap, he squeezes it tightly. The drive home is only a few minutes, but Roman’s breathing calms enough to the point where he can rationalize texting. Janus, Logan, and Virgil all get a very simple text, but it’s enough to explain the situation.

‘Found him. We’re going home. He’ll call you in a bit.’

They pull into the driveway, shuffle into the house, take off their shoes. It seems weirdly unreal. It’s like Roman has entered some twilight zone where he and his brother get along. A twilight zone that Roman hopes to make a reality. Like he’s an upset kid again, he takes his brother’s hand and remains resolute in not crying again as he leads him through their empty house. The maid is there, she sees them pass. She doesn’t say a word. She watches the obviously upset twins make their way down the hall and into Roman’s room. Remus lets Roman take him by the shoulders and sit him on his bed. They stare at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Roman takes the first step, “You scared me, Remus.”

Remus looks away, “I didn’t think you’d care, really…”

“Of course I’d care! Remus, I-I always cared! And I meant it when I said that I am truly sorry!” He’s crying again, and frankly, he feels a little stupid.

“I kinda figured when you ran at me crying like a crazy person,” His brother picks up the end of his blanket and wipes his face with it, “You’re crying a lot today.”

“I’ve had a quite terrible afternoon, I think a little emotional distress is warranted.” He huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, Remus smacks the blanket gently across his cheek.

Remus ushers him in again, nudging his head against Roman’s stomach and wrapping arms around his back. Roman stands between Remus’ legs and holds his head like the precious thing it is.

There’s a shudder of a breath from each of them. Both of them are so painfully aware of how long it’s been since the last time they sought out each other for comfort like this. There’s something so familiar in it. The warmth that Roman remembers from a childhood spent at each other’s sides. They used to be so close that they shared a bed by choice. He spent nights asleep and calm holding onto his brother. This feels like that. Something so personal and so old. Remus starts to cry again and it’s a messy sob that makes Roman’s ears ring. He squats down to look Remus in the eyes, taking his hands in his.

“I didn’t mean it, Rem. I don’t think you’re a failure-I-” Remus cries harder, he does his best to wipe the tears with his fingers.

“You-You mean much more to me than I’m sure I've let on in recent years.” There’s a tenderness and honesty in Roman’s voice that feels good and right.

“Mother and Father have been driving me insane, pressuring me to say and do things that I frankly don’t believe in.” The feelings he’s sharing now are lightening something in Roman’s chest, and from the look on Remus’ face, his words are more than on the right track.

“Not anymore. I promise to you that from now on I am going to do everything I can to make up for the terrible things I’ve done.”

Remus smiles at him, teary-eyed and covered in snot. It’s not gross to Roman, not right now, because Remus looks better.

“Can you start by getting me some water?” Remus’s hoarse voice coughs out, Roman is on his feet and goes to the kitchen as quickly as he can.

With two glasses in hand, he hurries back. He stops at the door. Inside, he hears Remus talking. He’s on the phone with Janus, who sounds more than upset. He goes in, gives Remus the glass, and turns to leave for privacy reasons. His brother grabs at his wrist and tugs him back. He sits beside Remus and they drink their water. He keeps his mouth shut and listens to the ways in which other people love his brother. Janus is angrier than anything else. The heart-palpitating rant that ensues is wildly emotional. He talks about how much the incidents of this afternoon scared everyone, goes off on tangents about the risks of running off and not telling anyone, tells him with the most love in his voice that he was worried about him. Remus promises not to do it again, Janus only sighs in a loving way. Janus brings up his talk with Roman, emphasizes his support of both of them, and lets Remus be on his way. Virgil is next, and he’s quiet. The call is full of little silences, Virgil takes breaks between sentences. Stops mid-word to take a breath and keep his wits. He tells Remus that he scared him. Tells him that he cares about him, no matter what. That he loves him and wants the best for him. He doesn’t use those words exactly, but Roman reads between the lines.

They’re fairly average calls considering the circumstances and their relationships. Roman sees Remus hesitate as his fingers ghost over the call button under Logan’s contact. He’s saved as “Boobear” with a blue and green heart. It’s by far the most normal of the names on his list. It’s by far the sweetest as well.

“Something wrong?” He asks, and Remus gives him a shaky smile.

“I’m worried about what he’s going to hate me now or something,”

It’s almost the stupidest thing Roman had ever heard. He might not get along great with Logan, but he’s not blind. The little nerd is wrapped tightly around Remus’ finger. He’s seen Remus hang off of Logan and say all kinds of crazy and vulgar things, only to get a small reprimand or occasionally an annoyed-but-loving smile. Remus can spout off in a rant about nothing in particular, only to have Logan hang onto every word and provide commentary and factual corrections. There is nothing in the world that could shake away the Logan Lark who was smiling and dancing in a field with his brother only a month ago.

“With the way he looks at you,” Roman chuckles, “I wouldn’t be surprised if this made him love you more.”

Remus blushes furiously, and instead of dignifying Roman with a response, he hits the call button.

Logan picks up the second it goes through as if he was waiting by his phone for Remus to call him. The intense emotion in his voice makes the twins do a double-take. He’s normally so straight and narrow. Measured. Collected. There is an air to the typical Logan that has vanished now. Roman wonders why he couldn’t show this side on stage more often.

“Remus? Please tell me this is you.”

To cover up his anxiousness, Remus flirts terribly, “Heya hot-stuff, what’re you wearing?”

There’s a relief filled laugh on the other side of the phone, “There’s my answer. Are you alright?”

“M-hm! You’ll never guess who made me feel better with a shit ton of groveling!” There’s an air to Remus’ voice that conveys humour.

“Remus.” Logan sounds so serious, Roman watches Remus sigh and roll his eyes at the care.

“Yeah, Logie. I’m okay. I mean it.”

Logan speaks again, that same serious voice, “I’ve been worried all afternoon.”

“Yeah...”

It’s quiet for a second, there’s a tension of the unspoken affection the pair have for each other floating in the room.

“I feel this is as good a time as any to tell you that I don’t think you’re a failure at all. You-I...In truth, I find you quite interesting to be around. You...You are...immensely talented in my humble opinion. I...While I understand we haven’t been friends for long- I hope it is not presumptuous to say that we are friends-But our relationship is...important to me. I enjoy your company and all you do for me. It...It is a true pleasure to be in your company, Remus. I-”

Despite the blushing on Remus’ cheeks, he softly mutters “You’re ranting again, Lo-Lo.”

“My apologies,” Logan nearly whispers out, there is affection seeping from his voice, “However, I meant everything I said.”

“I think you’re the shit too, babes. Sorry for worrying ‘ya.” There’s that affection again, Roman has never heard his brother sound so affectionate.

There’s another pause, Remus speaks again “I’ll make it up to you.”

“If you make a sex joke at a time like this-” Logan scolded, they could almost see his grimace.

“No, I mean it,” Remus laughs, “We can do something together. To make up for it.”

“I’d like that.”

Roman looks to his brother, the phone, and then his brother again. To him, it sounded as if Remus had just asked him out on a date, but he knew well enough that Remus and Logan were probably too dense to understand the implications.

“I’ll uh-I’ll talk to you ‘bout it later then, kay boobear?” Remus asks while staring at Roman, confused about the ‘oh-my-god-you-totally-like-him’ look he’s getting.

“Alright. Goodnight, Remus.” Logan’s voice drips honey and roses as he wishes him goodnight, there is so much Roman can hear wrapped up in that simple sentence and it’s a wonder to him.

“Goodnight.”

The call ends and Remus lets out a dreamy sigh.

Roman winds back and smacks Remus with a pillow in excited fervour.

“You did not tell me you were that in love with Logan!”

“Wha-You asshole!” Remus takes the pillow and smacks him back, “I am not in love with him!”

“Yeah right! That was the gayest conversation I’ve ever heard!” He nearly shouts, getting up and grabbing more pillows from the collection at the head of his bed.

“We didn’t even say anything juicy!” Teases Remus, grabbing pillows at lightning speed, preparing for what he knows is coming.

“It was in the tone! And don’t say juicy like that you dolt!”

Remus hits Roman with a pillow to the face. With an excited cackle, Roman launches an attack, throwing as many of his numerous pillows at his brother as he can. There is an all-out war within seconds. Both boys are shrieking and laughing. By the end of the pillow fight, they’re breathless and more joyful than they have been all day.

“How do you feel about a sleepover?”

Good. Remus feels very good about a sleepover. That night while laying in Roman’s dumb red sheets, cuddling up to his brother in the way that little kids do, he feels happy. Really happy. Genuinely happy. Logan had told him that it was hard to love somebody when they didn’t act as if they loved you back, and he was right. The smartass was always right. Now though, he felt it. His brother had cared, ran for him like he was the only thing that mattered to him in the world. He loves Roman. Apparently, Roman loves him too. His brother hugs him closer in his sleep. That’s more than enough for his brain to quiet tonight.

Addendum; August 20th -

Remus went missing this afternoon. It worried me greatly, but he turned out alright. Things between the Grimm twins seem to be better. On August 21st, they arrived to practice bickering but holding hands. They both appeared near ecstatic all day, needless to say, it was tiring. There will be no more need for the “Roman Incidents” section of this notebook.

Circled in red pen, written largely at the bottom of the page, underlined three times over.

Note: Investigate your true feelings for Remus Grimm.

#sanders sides #sanders side fic #intrulogical #creativitwins #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #i love tHEM #next chapter is intrulogical AND rociet....#i can write two things: over-dramatic dork loves different kind of over-dramatic dork and BROTHERS WHO CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER #ALSO THIS IS NOT SHIP FOR REMUS AND ROMAN I CANNOT STRESS THAT ENOUGH #the little addendum from logan <3 #hes taking back his fic TODAY

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Note

“ why did you stop loving me? ” with mer 🥺 angsty af

Just remember, y’all request this shit. It’s dark and painful, but if I put specific warnings, it’ll ruin the story. So, do please proceed with caution.

* * * * *

July in Louisiana meant there were only two tolerable times of the day to be outside: before the sun rose and after the sun set. Merriell had left at dusk, and now here you sat, quietly watching the crepuscular shadows along the bank of the stream and beneath the low branches of the live oak, waiting for dawn’s light to chase them away.

With a heavy sigh, you wished something as simple as the sun could chase away the shadows that clung to your heart as you thought about where your husband had spent the night.

The chittering birds told you it was officially dawn, their little bodies waking up to bounce through the branches of the oak. While watching the morning unfold, you remembered how hesitant you had been to move this deep into the south, but Merriell had promised there was no better place, no more peaceful place in all of Louisiana to set up a home.

You guessed maybe that was it: home had become too peaceful for him, too good for him, and like all the good things in Mer’s life, he knew it would come to an end. It was a true shame he never realized it was actually his own hand that caused all of the destruction that seemed to plague him.

A few months ago, Merriell had spent his first night away from home; in the morning, he was drunk, apologetic and sweet and even though you took pause, you decided it was a fluke. It was just one of those times when Merriell needed to feel free, like he still had complete control over his life.

The second time, your intuition knew something was wrong. It wasn’t about riding around with the boys, or about gambling and drinking. After that second time and without your conscious consent, your mind planted the seed that it wasn’t about a something at all . . . it was about a someone.

You spent nights three, four, and five weeding that damned seed, over and over again, but it had permanent roots. After the sixth time, you gave up and just let it grow, nourishing it with every doubt you’d ever had.

And last night, well last night had made seven.

You figured that the seventh time was the best time to confront Merriell. Afterall, God rested on the seventh day, and you knew God didn’t want to be around for this.

The sun rose over the horizon, bathing the lawn in a blue-pink glow as Mer’s truck crept into the driveway. Your tears had been shed hours ago and you swore to yourself that he wouldn’t get to see you cry.

Shifting on the porch swing, you tucked your legs under your body and ran your hands apprehensively over your thighs, stopping to adjust your wedding ring and realizing for the first time since Merriell had slipped the gold band on your finger that it felt itchy—like the skin underneath couldn’t breathe.

Maybe that was it? Merriell’s domestic skin just got too itchy and he needed to scratch it.

You hoped it was a satisfying scratch because you already knew there wouldn’t be a chance for another. The second he stepped out on you, your marriage was over. Merriell had once loved your confidence, your acknowledgment of your own self-worth, but maybe it was too much to handle for a man who seemed to have a streak of self-hatred that he just couldn’t shake.

Yes. Maybe that was it.

Merriell stopped in his tracks when he saw you on the porch and you watched as his eyes darted back to his truck, a glance of apprehension, whether to stay or flee clearly written across the face you used to find beautiful.

When your gaze didn’t waver, Mer knew the choice had been made for him, so he took a deep breath, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Your eyes raked over the way his clothes were rumpled, obviously having spent the night on someone else’s floor.

He stopped at the edge of the porch and leaned against the railing, head bent, his hands still in his pockets. You could see they were shaped into fists and the tension rolled off of him, along with the smell of her.

“Vaginal secretions. They’re pretty pungent, you know.” Your voice came out strong and clear, completely disguising the shadows of disgust that squeezed your heart.

Merriell didn’t raise his head, but the muscles in his forearms flexed.

“The first five times you showered before you came ho—” you stopped yourself. This wasn’t anyone’s home anymore. “Before you came back here. Since you’ve stopped for nights six and seven, I just assumed you didn’t give a fuck if I knew.”

Still, he kept his head down, fists balled in his jeans’ pockets. His scuffed boots toed at one of the knots in the porch’s floorboards.

“Why did you stop loving me?” you asked in a rush, emotion edging over the words that had been running through your mind since night two.

Merriell did look up at that question, his eyes filled with tears and you were appalled that your first instinct was to comfort him.

To comfort him!

No. Instead, you scratched at the skin beneath the band of your wedding ring, your eyes never leaving his face.

“I—” he began, stopping to clear his throat. “I neva stopped lovin’ ya.”

First you blinked, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Then you laughed, a cold, unhappy, bark of a laugh. “You’ve come up with an incredibly rich way of showing off your love for me, Merriell.”

Untucking your legs, your bare feet settled on the cool wood of the porch and you flexed them to still the swing. You glanced at the sunlight filtering through the branches of the oak and wondered how something so pretty could be occurring in tandem with the ugliest moment of your life.

“What’s she like?” you asked, your eyes still trained on the growing sunlight.

Merriell was quiet for a long time. He pulled his hands from his pockets and you couldn’t help but to turn your attention back to him, the thin band of gold flashing on his finger as he ran his left hand through his hair.

“Do you take your wedding ring off when you fuck her, or do—”

“She’s havin’ my child.”

You stopped breathing, the heated blood in your veins turning to ice.

“Leave.”

“Y/N, please,” Merriell began his voice catching as he let his tears fall.

You stood, willing your body to get as far away from him as it could, but when you turned to walk into the house, he reached for you, and the thought of his fingers—the fingers that had been touching her, that had been inside of her—wrapping around your wrist was enough to make you sick.

Shaking him off, you threw open the door and ran to the kitchen sink, throwing up nothing but bile because you couldn’t even remember the last time you ate. Tears streamed down your face as you gagged again, and from your peripheral, you could see Merriell hovering in the doorway.

Running water to wash away the sick and rinse out your mouth, you felt your knees shake so you turned around against the counter and slowly sank to the floor, unable to stop the sobs that wracked your body.

That’s why. That’s why. That’s why.

She could give him the one thing in the world you never could.

You screamed, an agonized purge of emotion that exploded from your chest and you saw him leave, like a ghost, like a whisper of the man he had once been.

He had told you it didn’t matter.

He had sworn his love and fealty to you.

He had asked you to marry him.

He had sworn he was happy.

You straightened up. Your back still leaning against the countertop and you pulled your wedding ring off your finger. Slowly climbing to your feet, you turned back toward the sink and tossed the ring into the garbage disposal, flicking the switch and listening to the blades tear themselves apart as they hit the metal.

You flicked off the switch and swiped at the tears on your cheeks.

You had already broken one promise to yourself: you had let him see you cry.

You’d be damned if you’d be here when he got back; you’d be damned if you’d ever let him see your face again.

The walk to your bedroom felt like it was measured in miles, not in feet, and when you began tossing your things into a bag, you were struck with a realization.

You wanted nothing from this house, nothing from this life.

Leaving your clothes, makeup, and jewelry strewn across the bedroom, you turned on your heel and walked away. The only things you took from that house, that place you had called home for seven years, were your tennis shoes and your car keys.

As you pulled out onto the quiet road, your gaze focused only on the sun in the distance, a bright orange ball that held the promise of another hot day.

Your eyes never flicked to the rearview mirror.

Not once.

#Merriell Shelton #merriell shelton x reader #female reader #merriell shelton angst #and I mean ANGST #you have been warned #chaotic thursday #still answering requests

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rosesvioletshardy · 4 years

Text

life as we know it - b.h. chapter 10

we’re finally onto double digits! i thought this story would be done by this chapter but i was wrong with how i’m making i guess slow burn go. just to warn you i do have summer classes at the moment until the 19th of july so if any chapters get delayed it’s because of that or personal reasons.

i think y’all are going to enjoy this chapter because i liked writing it a lot even though at one point i did have writer’s block

i also had to take some things out which annoyed me but i think it’ll fit better in other chapters

please be nice and leave a reblog or any comments :)

masterlist

summary: when their two best friends die, it’s up to ben and y/n to take care of their goddaughter and face the challenges with it.

# of words: 3,836

warnings: none?, some language

taglist: @myfatbottomedgirls , @evemarie05 , @suckerfor-fanfics

inbox or message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist for the series

----

(her outfit for dinner later in the chapter)

when y/n woke up, she realized what day it was and immediately felt sick to her stomach. it was the day she had to break up with sean. the only problem she had was that she didn’t know where her feelings stood with ben and if he had felt the same towards her. needing to distract herself for the day before the evening, she decided to spend the morning with charlie and ben and only focus on them without anything else on her mind. she got out of bed and walked into the bathroom and fixed up her appearance a bit because hair sticking up everywhere was not the look she was going for.

while getting ready she got a ding from her phone signaling she got a text. standing in front of the mirror for a couple of minutes before plucking up the courage to go check her phone. taking the phone off the charger, she flipped it over and opened her phone. Pressing on his contact name, she read the message

i can’t wait for tonight, i think we’re both going to be surprised tonight ;)

she knew what he was talking about. he was going to propose. the only thing she couldn’t figure out was whether she should do it before to get it over with, or after. if she did it after, she would have all eyes on her from the people around them and she thought that she would be selfish about what she’s giving up. a man with a stable job, good money, nice family (even if she hasn’t met them), to someone who is going to be away almost all the time. she took a deep breath and let it go before sending him a message back.

i can’t wait for tonight either, happy birthday my love <3

the thought of calling him “her love” made her sick to her stomach knowing that it wasn’t true anymore and hasn’t been true for a long time anymore. throwing her phone on the bed, she left the room to go wake charlie up. when she entered her room, y/n saw her already awake and standing ready for the day.

“good morning baby, how are you? let’s go wake up uncle ben. it’ll be good this time and funny because he came home a little drunk last night and i thought we could mess with him with frankie.” she told her getting her ready.

as they went carefully down the stairs, y/n grabbed the peanut butter and a spoon before walking over to the couch where ben was passed out. setting charlie on the ground, she opened the peanut butter and grabbed a little with the spoon and carefully put it on just the tip of his nose. quickly flinching away as soon as he started to sniffle, y/n put a little bit more before closing the jar and putting it away on the table. taking his phone, she started to record and called frankie over to where she was

“Come here frank, come her girl” she whispered while waving her hand over

“c’mon, what is this?” she finished while pointing to the peanut butter

frankie took a moment to sniff out what she was talking about before she started to lick ben’s face. ben began to wiggle his nose after feeling something and then started to moan. she tried her best to not to burst out laughing

“y/n? haven’t seen you be this wild since new years.” ben said as his eyes fluttered open only to see his dog licking all over his face causing him to yell

“WHAT THE FUCK Y/N?!” he yelled trying to wipe off his face as she fell over laughing her ass off as well as charlie

“i’m-i’m sorry. i had too” she laughed out

ben groaned as he tried to wipe away any excess peanut butter and slobber. y/n and charlie continued to laugh while he tried to wake up and ignore his hangover. he fell back onto the couch holding his head regretting his choices of getting drunk with joe, gwilym, and rami but he had fun hanging out with them. she got up after pulling herself together and smoothed down her outfit before talking

“okay, okay. i’m sorry. i really am, i’ll go get you some ibuprofen and make some breakfast as a sorry.” she told him crouching down and pushing some of his hair out of his face

“can you make some coffee and those cinnamon rolls from your bakery?” he asked muffled

“yeah i will, did you have too much last night?”

“yeah. i am never going to drink again.”

“we all say that but it never happens”

“shhh. let me dream. when are they going to make something that’ll get you drunk but you just don’t wake up with a hangover the next day. charlie, learn from us. do not drink no matter how good it is sometimes.” ben said as y/n left to go to the kitchen to get ben his medication

“don’t corrupt her just yet. she probably won’t even listen. i mean, didn't you party as a teenager? did things your parents didn’t want you ever doing?” she asked him

“maybe who knows?” he shrugged swallowing the pills and picking up charlie to sit her down in her high chair

“what about you? i know you’re not innocent, i mean new years proved it and the couple days before too.” he smirked and winked at her

y/n’s face flushed pink as she got out the ingredients for the cinnamon rolls. she knew exactly what he was talking about and he wasn’t lying. she may seem like she’s all bubbly and innocent but she wasn’t exactly as innocent as everyone thought.

“i may have done a few things in college. you don’t need to know the details.”

“hmm right. i’m going to go for a run. what time are you going to be leaving tonight?” he asked her drinking the rest of his water before going to change

“he’s coming around 5:30-”

when ben heard her say that sean was going to pick her up he started to choke on his water as she stopped kneading the dough

“oh my god! are you okay?” she said as she began to pat his back

“yeah, ‘m fine. ‘m fine. just shocked. did you say he was coming here? like here here?”

“yes i tried to tell him we’ll just meet each other but i couldn’t. sorry.”

“‘t’s fine, we’ll just have to hide charlie and teach frankie some tactics to scare him and maybe attack him who knows?” ben said shrugging looking away

y/n gave him a look a disappointment and an exasperated sigh

“alright ‘m sorry. i’ll just leave then. be all by myself on my run” he sighed out

“you’re being dramatic”

“‘m an actor darling, ‘m supposed to be dramatic” he flipping the non existent long hair

“damn i wish i had my roger wig. at least i can flip my hair with it.” he finished

“uh huh. go on your run rock star.”

“c’mon frank, let’s go. y/n is being rude to the both of us.” he told her crouching down and scratching her ears

“bye baby girl. we’re going to have a fun night tonight. you’re auntie y/n is being rude and we get to do whatever we want tonight” he whispered to charlie while giving a kiss on her head

“ben”

“fine. geez. who pissed in your coffee this morning. i’m kidding, don’t kill me” he said running while laughing

as ben left the house, he started to stretch for his run to avoid any muscle strains. while he was stretching, rachel went to go her mail, she saw ben as he started to do some side lunges

“oh limbering up, there it is. oh like a rubber band” she whispered to herself

ben thought he felt someone staring at him so he turned around causing rachel to sort through her mail and pretend nothing was happening until she looked up

“oh good morning ben. how are you today?”

“good, you?”

this caused rachel to giggle and start waving her hand dramatically as she nervously continued to laugh

“oh i’m good”

ben laughed to himself as he and frankie began their run for the morning, greeting their neighbors as they saw tom watering the plants out in the front

“hey big man” “hey tom”

“you catch the game last night?” “what game?” ben asked in confusion as the only thing he remembers from the night before was him and joe dancing while drunk. tom casually laughed it off as he continued on the run

everything was going nice, and quiet until another one of the neighbors, amber, came around and started to run with ben

“oh hello, i didn’t know you were a runner. we should train to together”

“well, i like to use this time to think and spend time with frankie when i’m home since y/n usually takes her on walks now when i film.”

“that’s nice. yeah, i like to use the time to think as well. it’s good for the body and mind. is this the pace we’re going to keep up?” she asked as ben continued to run a little faster

it’s not like he didn’t dislike the neighbors, it’s just sometimes he’d like to be alone on his runs due to not having that much time on his hands to do it everyday and all the time.

he continued his run for another hour before finding a place for him and frankie to relax and for her to drink some water he had for them. he took a moment to take in the nice weather they were having that morning and just laid on the ground and looked up at the sky. ben began to overthink about the current situation and wondered if it was just him getting to his emotions and needing validation and comfort from someone. shaking his thoughts away, ben got up and whistled for frankie to signal that they were leaving. on his way home, he drowned out his thoughts using his music so he didn’t think about everything when he met up with her again.

Stepping into the house, ben was met with the smell of cinnamon rolls as y/n prepped the table for them to eat breakfast. he took off frankie’s leash so she could get some more water and ran up the stairs to go shower and change seeing that he was drenched in sweat. she heard the door slam and went to go to see who it was thinking it was an intruder before seeing ben’s shoes by the door and went back to the kitchen. she didn’t have anything to do before sean’s dinner later in the night seeing that tyler forced her to that day off after working more than she should’ve and she’s exhausting herself, especially because she wanted to expand her bakery into a full restaurant but hasn’t had the time to go over all the paperwork and details.

she began to feed charlie when she heard ben coming down the stairs

“can i just say, as much as i hated you, i don’t hate these cinnamon rolls.” ben told her smelling the air

“thanks, as much as i hated you, you’re not so bad to look at.” “speaking of looks, what are you going to wear tonight?”

“haven’t decided yet. maybe the dress i wore on new years. he seemed to like that dress.”

“so did i” ben mumbled under his breath before drinking his coffee

“what did you say?” she asked whipping her head to him

“what? i didn’t say anything” he told her

“okay.”

the three finished their breakfast in silence before they spent a couple of hours with charlie. ben played the drums for her, as well as singing, trying to introduce her to new music and expand genres and help with the development of learning new sounds and words. y/n went back into the kitchen when she realized that she hadn't made anything for ben and charlie to eat for dinner later in the night while she was gone. ben noticed and told her not to worry and told her that he’ll just order out. he didn’t want her to work anymore and just relax before she had to get ready.

hours later, y/n was in the bedroom putting the finishing touches on her makeup when the doorbell rang.

“i got it, don't worry!” ben yelled as went to the door

opening the door he shouldn’t have been surprised when he saw sean. sean stood there with a smug grin on his face as ben opened the door

“hello ben”

“Sean”

“can i come in?”

ben welcomed him in with an annoyed look on his face as they walked into the living room. sean was about to go near charlie when ben stopped him and picked her up himself and frankie growled at sean

“don’t touch her”

“Alright ben. i know you don’t like me, and i don’t like you. but after tonight. she is going to be mine and things are going to change. what happened between the two of you, it’s never going to happen. you were simply just a one night stand and just because you two are co-parenting now, it still doesn’t mean anything is going to happen.” “i’m sure things are going to change after tonight. she is one of the most thoughtful and caring people i know and even though she was annoying when we first met, doesn’t mean i don’t care about her feelings. unlike some people.”

“just because you’re rich and famous, doesn’t mean shit. my family is 10 times more richer than you and you can get all the lawyers you want, and still are going to lose everything as soon as she moves in with me, she’ll take little charlie with her since you’re traveling all the time”

“i can take jobs here. it doesn’t matter, maybe i’ll take charlie with me and show her the world. i mean it’ll be good for her while she grows up.”

sean was about to hit back with another argument about y/n and charlie but he got cut off by footsteps coming down the stairs. ben and sean both stood up as they saw her step down the last step. they were both in awe when they saw the woman they were both in love with.

“Wow” ben said speechless

“you look beautiful” sean told her

“thanks, are you ready?” she asked

“Yeah, i was just having a lovely conversation with ben and admiring how cute charlie is” sean told her as he hooked their arms

“bye ben. i’m not sure when i’ll come home but i’ll tell you okay? bye charlie, be good for your uncle” she told her kissing her head

sean and y/n left the house, and ben locked the door, turning charlie around and began to wonder what they could do for a few hours even though she was supposed to go to sleep in those few hours.

“well it’s just you and me now. what should we do?”

charlie reached her hands out for ben’s hair seeing that it was getting long enough for her to pull and he just dealt with it and walked over to the couch and sat her down to watch some tv

“you know this isn’t too bad. just me and you, some food, frankie, and tv. i’m losing my mind oh god”

y/n on the other hand was in the car with sean on the way to the La Dame de Pic. how she managed to get a reservation there she didn’t understand. she was more than nervous for what was going to happen. she started to drift off into her thoughts and tried to calm down. sean took one of his hands off the wheel and grabbed her right hand. he looked over to her and smiled as they pulled up to the front of the restaurant. sean was determined to be the “gentleman” he thought he was and opened the door for her as she got out. they walked into the restaurant and her nerves increased more.

“hi we have a reservation, under l/n for two?” sean told the lady at the desk

“Yes, please follow me”

the couple followed the lady to the table and sat down. they started the night off with some wine and began to look through the menu. every now and then she would look up and look at sean and think to herself about when she was going to do it. There were too many people near her and felt the panic set in. she was too in deep with her thoughts realize that they were ready to order

“y/n, dear?”

“yes? sorry.”

“do you know what you want?”

“yeah, um i’ll have the Brittany Pigeon”

“and i’ll have the Steak tartar. thank you.” sean said as they handed back the menus to the waiter

“have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

y/n couldn’t help but blush at the comment, but who wouldn’t when they received a comment about how they looked especially if they spent a good amount of time getting ready

“thank you. how are you enjoying your birthday so far? 30’s a big number” she asked him after taking a sip of her wine

“i have to admit it does feel weird but with you it nothing feels weird and i’m sure something will make it even better.” he smirked

she felt at ease when the food arrived because it meant they didn’t have to talk that much. every now and then they would look up to each other and smile. it was quiet in the restaurant except for the soft music that was playing in the corner. sean would reach into his pocket a few times to make sure that the ring was still there and go over the speech in his head. he decided he would do it while they were done with dinner but before dinner. y/n noticed his behavior and every time he stopped eating to check inside his pockets, she knew he was going to propose and she had to do it quickly and leave as soon as she could.

“if you could excuse me, i need to go to the restroom.” she told him as she got up and took her purse with him

“no problem, just be back quick” he smiled at her

y/n dashed towards the bathroom and went straight to the sinks and stood in front of the mirror

“you got this y/n. it’s all you wanted since he started to treat you the way he did. just say what you always wanted to tell him and get the hell out of here. this is all that you’ve wanted, nothing more.” she said to herself while fixing her makeup and hair

walking out, sean came into her view as a new bottle of wine was replacing the old one. she noticed it was an even more expensive brand as she sat down. sean took a deep breath and slid out of his chair and went next to her and crouched down while taking her hands. everyone quickly turned to their direction and began to stare at them

“y/n, this past year has been one of the best years of my life. ever since the day we met at christian and lennon’s wedding, i never thought i would be here proposing to you. you are one of the most beautiful people i have ever met. you are also one of the smartest. you run a business while also being a well i guess a single mother and i’ve never seen someone so strong. so, y/n l/n, will you marry me?” sean asked as he took out the ring

she had to admit the ring was pretty but she knew she had to say no. she felt everyone’s stares on her as they waited to hear her answer

“sean, you have made my life, but no. i’m sorry”

“no? what do you mean “no”?”

“i mean, things have changed since we met. i know everything. i know you’re cheating on me with someone else. i know you only want to marry me because you’ll get my bakery and it’ll make you richer. Over the past few months, i’ve been questioning our relationship. you are possibly the worst person i have either dated or hooked up with.”

at this point everyone stopped what they were doing and focused on the pair

“i should’ve known you weren’t meant for me when you never bothered to call back and i didn’t know what we were for months. i’ve been in love with the wrong person this entire time and i still don’t know what my heart wants. i did mean to sleep with ben on new years. i just dated you because i didn’t think i would be in this situation right now and try to focus on myself. you were too controlling and i couldn’t stand it anymore. i just can’t. and by the way, every single time we had sex, i always faked it and thought of ben because i know he could do so much better and he lasts longer too instead of ejaculating prematurely.” she finished

sean didn’t know what to say as he stayed on one knee while everyone stared at them.

“i told you it’s a medical problem.” he whispered to her

“well then honey, you better get it checked out because i’m sure no girl would want someone who doesn't know how to pleasure a woman beforehand.” she breathed out feeling satisfied with herself

“and you know what else? you can go fuck yourself and fuck your family.”

grabbing her clutch, she opened it and grabbed her phone to call an uber. she felt like she was walking on cloud 9 when it all happened. y/n got into her uber and let out a deep sigh as she started to laugh and cry at the same time while her driver just ignored her and didn’t bother to ask her questions.

entering the house as quietly as she could, she took her shoes off and walked into the living room to find ben passed out with an empty beer bottle in his hand and the tv still on. she took the bottle out of his hand and turned off the tv. as soon as the bottle left ben’s hand, he fell onto the couch and continued to sleep. y/n took a few minutes to take in the way ben slept. his hair was already messy, most likely from charlie pulling on it, his mouth partly open, and his soft snores. She left to go to bed and felt like this night would be the first night in a long time where she wouldn’t feel stressed.

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mischiefandi · 4 years

Text

Surprise! - Peter Parker Headcanon

A/N: Peter and Y/N are smol beans and they have a big ass crush on each other and they share a birthday enjoyyy (first head canon ever don't hate me if it sucks dkjgjfhdjgkfj)

Warnings: fluffyyy

Word Count: ??

gif credits -> @underoos-tom <3

Peter and Y/N met in school

they were both in the same Chemistry class, in fact, they were lab partners

Y/N had stayed up all night painting with her new watercolors

so she was absolutely exhausted

so exhausted she ended up falling asleep in class

Peter was seated next to her

they’d briefly exchanged a few words before but they weren’t really friends

still, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her, lying across their desk

he tried to pay extra attention in class that day, jotting down as many notes as possible

though he did get distracted a couple times

Y/N was pretty cute

after class he gently nudged her, trying to wake her up without freaking her out too much

she eventually stirred awake, much to his relief

she was embarrassed but he reassured her and handed her the entirety of his notes

Y/N was really touched by the simple gesture

this simple act eventually blossomed into a long-lasting friendship

the pair was inseparable, truly just two peas in a pod

Peter walked Y/N home every day without fail

and every time he smiled widely as he watched her run up to her front door

though he’d never do it in front of her

Y/N was really sweet and funny

she always made him laugh a ton

to the point where he’d choke on his water or fall off a chair

thus only amplifying the fit of laughter for the both of them

she loved hearing his laugh

there was no sound she liked better, it was like music to her ears

months after becoming friends with Peter

Y/N was talking with Ned in the cafeteria

the subject of birthdays arose

and much to her surprise, Ned told her Peter’s birthday was the 10th of August

she nodded but then did a double take, the new information settling in

“His birthday’s the 10th of August?? That’s my birthday too!” she exclaimed

Ned couldn’t help but laugh as Y/N excitedly started planning out a surprise for her friend

“friend”

“FRIEND”

he watched her jot down ideas on a pad and his eyes lit up as he came up with a surprise of his own

it didn’t take long before he told Peter he and Y/N shared a birthday

Peter was completely bewildered

what a strange coincidence

fate?

please, fate’s not actually real

is it?

Peter just couldn’t help but feel like maybe, somehow, this was a sign

a sign he should surprise her too

with a special declaration

maybe?

Ned helped him come up with a whole speech

he even gave him advice on what to wear for the occasion

months passed and both Y/N and Peter could barely contain their excitement

they were happy their birthday was coming up

but more importantly

they couldn’t wait to surprise the other

Peter memorised his little speech over and over again

terrified of messing it up

she deserved only the best

and when he was nervous

he rambled

a lot

and that wasn’t the best

Y/N on the other hand

she had spent hours in her room painting

it was what she did best

and Peter was worth the best

she couldn’t wait for him to see what she had so carefully crafted for him

Ned found the whole situation hilarious

both of his friends kept sneaking behind each other’s backs

Peter didn’t know Y/N knew

Y/N didn’t know Peter knew

make sense?

Ned felt extremely proud of himself

he was the mastermind behind the entire ordeal

guy in the chair’s a cool title, but mastermind’s even cooler

summer finally rolled around

and July flew by in a flash

finally it was the day

the 10th of August

the day both Y/N and Peter had planned for so long

Y/N shot out of bed, grinning from ear to ear

she celebrated with her parents, blowing out the candles at breakfast

Peter woke up in a pool of sweat

he was so nervous

today was the day

the day he was finally going to tell her how much he liked her

you know

as a friend

“fRiEnD”

after opening Aunt May’s gifts

and after giving her a huge bear hug

he got dressed, even added some gel to his hair

though it looked weird

so he washed it out

Y/N slipped on a lovely sundress, one she had heard Peter compliment when he thought she wasn’t listening

she smiled to herself as she remembered his blush

he was sure to love it

slipping her gift for him in her bag

she ran out of her house

the pair had agreed to meet up at Central Park

their usual hangout spot with Ned

speaking of Ned

he sent a text to Peter, giving him some final words of encouragement before the big moment

Peter shakily walked over to the bridge where Y/N was patiently waiting for him

this was it

“Peter!” she called out

he ran over to her, the corners of his lips curling into a grin at the sight of her

she always looked so pretty in that dress

“Do you know what day it is?”

“Yeah, do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“And yours!”

“You knew??”

“I’ve known for months!”

the pair laughed, the sudden realisation dawning on them

Ned had played them both

“Happy birthday, Peter!” Y/N exclaimed, pulling him into a hug, and his heart swelled as he inhaled her sweet perfume

“Happy birthday, Y/N”

“I have a surprise for you.”

“So do I.”

“You go first!”

“No, no, you!”

Y/N smiled widely and reached for the present hidden away in her bag

she took it out and gave it to him

Peter couldn’t believe his eyes

she had painted him

correction

she had painted them both, sitting on a bench together, watching the sun go down

they were holding hands

Peter blushed a deep crimson and let out a warm chuckle

“This is amazing, Y/N. You’re crazy talented.”

“I wanted to paint you something, cus that’s how I express my feelings.”

“Your feelings?”

Y/N shyly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, avoiding his gaze

“Yeah…”

“Y/N, I have a surprise too”

Peter suddenly couldn’t remember his speech

but he didn’t need to

he knew exactly what to say

correction

he knew exactly what to do

he suddenly closed the distance between them, planting a soft kiss on her lips and Y/N’s heart stopped

he was kissing her

Peter

was kissing her

the Peter she cared about more than anyone else in the world

the Peter she couldn’t help but dream about

she kissed him back eagerly, slipping her fingers through his curls

after a while they pulled away, forehead against forehead

“that was quite the surprise.”

“it’s been a long time coming.”

Y/N giggled and Peter thanked his lucky stars

best

birthday

ever

A/N: hihi this was definitely not inspired by Peter and my birthday lol nooo, hope y'all like it :))

if you would like to be added to my taglist(s), feel free to fill in this form

Peter tag:

@stiles-o-dylan24 @duskholland @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @r0s3mm @hcomet28 @decaffeinated--fangirl

Forever tag:

@stixnstripesworld @masterofbluff @drakewalker04 @superapplepie

#peter parker #spiderman #mcu #marvel #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker x y/n #Peter Parker fanfiction #Peter Parker headcanon #headcanon #Spiderman far from home #spiderman homecoming #spidey #tom holland #fanfiction #v writes #hope u liked it hihi #happy bday to us baby :)

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excindrela · 4 years

Text

12 Days of Demon Ayno -Day 9 (18+)

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV / Female reader

Genre: Fluff/ Angst/ Smut

Warnings: Cussing, alcohol consumption, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it!)

Word Count: 5031 (...I did not mean to write War & Peace...)

AU: OMG DAY 9 IS FINALLY DONE! (So I guess we’re having Christmas in July) I’m sorry this one took so long. I knew where we needed to go, I just couldn’t get there. Good news: Day 10 is started, Day 12 is done! (We might skip 11) I have also started NYE & Lunar New Year (I’m writing all of them simultaneously) I love feedback- so if there’s something you like, or something you want to see- tell me!! Thanks to everyone who has stuck around! Special thanks to @quyennie for being my editor!!

Demon Ayno: Summoned, Thanksgiving, 12 Days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | Day 11| Day 12 | NYE | Lunar New Year

On the 9th Day of Christmas: You Took Ayno to the Office Holiday Party

It was a little after three thirty when you came through the apartment door wearing baggy sweats, a zip up hoodie with nothing but a tank underneath, fuzzy flip-flop slippers, and no gloves. Even with the calf length down coat on you were freezing, but you couldn’t risk wrecking your once a winter pedi and once a year mani. Even though the heater was on and it hit you like a blast furnace the minute you came in, you were still shivering.

“Ayno? Are you here? I’m home.” The question was rhetorical. You knew your beautiful demon was there somewhere because the TV was set to a music channel playing Christmas standards, and something smelled good.

Ayno came striding out of the kitchen. “Good. I have made you lunch.”, he said as he took your coat. Like a typical human male, he paid no attention to your fancy nails and hair and instead focused on your outfit. “Why are you dressed so inappropriately for the weather?! You will catch a chill and die, and I will have to go back to being a…what was it you called me?”

“Interdimensional hooker. What are we having?”

“Macaroni and cheese. I am told that this food brings comfort, and you seem very agitated today.” He said as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs just below your butt and carried you into the kitchen.

“Out of the box?”

“Is what out of what box?” he looked around confused as he deposited you onto a barstool.

“Lunch.”

“Why would macaroni and cheese be in a box? Cheese must be kept cold.”

“You know- the blue box? With the orange powdered cheese? It’s like its own food group.”

Ayno looked horrified. “I do not know what kind of witchcraft would be necessary to turn cheese into an orange powder, but it should not be trusted and I do not know why you would dare to consume it.”

You privately thought he was missing out. Instead, he removed a baking dish from the oven with cavatappi noodles he had baked with some mixture of cream and cheeses and topped with panko breadcrumbs. He dished out a large helping and retrieved a bowl of salad from the fridge and set it next to the mac & cheese. You took a bite…it was creamy and cheesy and delicious…and you were so not hungry.

“It’s delicious, but not exactly cocktail dress friendly.”

Ayno frowned. “You did not eat breakfast. Now you do not want lunch. You are…stressed” he said, happy that he remembered the right word. He moved around behind you, fastening his lips to your neck and slipping a hand inside your jacket to fondle your breast through the thin tank. “You do not smell right…too much cortisol…” he said as his lips worked their way toward your ear. “If you do not do something to relax, then I will have to make you relax.” He gently threatened as his thumb flicked over your erect nipple.

You sighed and closed your eyes, “Ayno, so help me God, if you ruin a $60 hairstyle before I get to that party, I swear I will pour holy water over your head myself!” you gritted out through clenched teeth.

He wisely released you; then reached over and picked up the glass of water above your plate, and poured it out in the sink while muttering something that sounded like “I’d like to see you try it” under his breath, before going to the fridge, grabbing the open bottle of wine, removing the cork with his teeth, filling the glass and setting it in front of you.

He stepped back and looked meaningfully from the glass to your face and back again. You took the hint and drained half the glass in three gulps. Ayno refilled it.

He moved back to your side and picked up a forkful of mac & cheese and held it up to your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and took the bite. “We should not go to this party if it is making you this unhappy”, he said gently rubbing your back.

You placed your forehead carefully against his chest. “Oh Ayno – I don’t mean to be like this to you. Yes, you are right, I am stressed. The Office Christmas Party is one of my least favorite nights of the year. But this is one of those weird human social things that you have to attend even though you don’t want to.”

He continued rubbing your back comfortingly. “I will stay home if it will make you less worried.”

You put your arms around his waist and looked up into his concerned eyes. “Not a chance. Having you as my date is the one thing I’m looking forward to about tonight.”

* * *

You came through the doors of your building at 7:41 and the Atrium was already packed with people and the party was in full swing. Ayno slid your coat from your shoulders and went to take it and your bag to the coat check. Meanwhile, you glanced around and saw Tenley & Kara leaning against the wall by the elevator bank and headed straight over.

“Hey!” “There you are!” They called as you trotted over as fast as the slippery soles of your strappy sandals would allow. You all engaged in the typical “girl hug” that involved leaning over with your butt sticking out and the bare minimum of contact while patting the other’s back.

“Cute dress Ten!” you said. “Thanks! I was accused of being boring by Danielle, so I decided to embrace my ethnicity!” she replied, smoothing the peony embroidered satin of her mandarin collared mini-qi pao. “But it’s still black. Festive is Kara’s job.”

“What? It’s still a neutral! Just because I refuse to join the sea of black dresses with you two…” she retorted, giving her hips a little shake that made the silver beaded dress shimmy with her.

“I like it Kara! Perfect for New Year’s Eve too!” you supported.

“Right?! Kill two parties with one dress!” she affirmed.

“I thought Ayno was coming tonight?”, Tenley questioned.

“Oh, he’s here. He’s just dropping my things at coat check.”

Then Kara’s brain caught up with the conversation and she turned to Tenley looking confused “Danielle? From the Data Matrixing dept. called you boring? They only have one ‘Danielle’, right?”

At that, Tenley launched into her story the way only catty girlfriends can about another woman throwing them shade. She was just wrapping it up when you noticed Kara’s attention had been diverted.

“I don’t know what department that belongs in, but whatever it is, I will find out, and then I am transferring there whether I have the requisite skill and experience or not.” Kara said, her gaze never wavering.

You understood. You smiled at the tall, well-built man that had captured her attention, his fire engine red suit tapered from his broad shoulders to nip in at his slender waist and the pants caressed his muscular thighs. A black mesh shirt peeked out from underneath the jacket and was accented with a couple silver chains at his throat. He was stunning – and oblivious to the attention he was garnering: wide eyed open mouth stares from the ladies and looks of undisguised envy from the men. He glanced around and spying your little group he made his way over with four filled champagne flutes tucked between his long fingers. He handed out the champagne, gave a blinding smile and said “Hi!”

Kara giggled. You just shook your head. Tenley took command of the conversation. “Hi Ayno. It’s good to see you again. I like your suit! It’s a much better look on you than the reindeer sweater.”

“Thank you, I think so too. It itches less. Although, it does not have lights like the sweater, so I think it is unlikely I will win a prize. I think you look better too.”

You laughed. “Kara, this is my boyfriend, Ayno. Ayno, this is Kara- she’s our department assistant.” “Which means she’s the only one who has any idea what’s going on.” Tenley supplied as Ayno, excited to once again be practicing traditional human greetings, extended his hand to Kara.

Kara shook his hand and then downed the whole glass in one gulp. You followed suit, and then handed the glasses back to Ayno. “Will you be a love and go get us 2 more?”, you asked him sweetly. He bent down until his face was even with yours. “Please?” you smiled at him. He smiled back, “Yes Mistress. I am always happy to serve you”, he whispered as he planted a quick kiss on your lips and then turned on his heel and headed to the champagne fountain.

“Ho-lee crap!” Kara said to no one in particular. She looked at Tenley, “You said he was hot, you didn’t say he was the male equivalent of a Victoria’s Secret angel.”

You snickered at the idea of Ayno being an angel of any kind. Kara turned slowly and looked at you. “He’s cute? He’s tall? I love his smile? Seriously??? How about he’s breathtaking and sexy as fuck??”

You laughed. “Sorry Kara. After my last boyfriend…I just sort-of downplay things now. And yes, Ayno is breathtaking…sometimes I think people look at us together and wonder what a man like that is doing with me.”

“Whatever! He’s with you, right? And he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.” She grabbed your arms and turned you to face her, “Please tell me he has a single brother?” she mock pleaded.

“Actually, he has six brothers.”

Both of them stared at you wide eyed. “SIX BROTHERS?” they chorused in unison. “Are they all single and do they all look like him? I just want one.” Kara said. “Yeah, one for you & one for me” Tenley agreed.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen them. But they’re…uh…adopted, so I’m not sure what they look like.”

“Well, you clearly hit the jackpot on this one. He’s gorgeous and seems totally devoted.” Kara said with a touch of envy.

“I know, right? I want a man who follows me around and does whatever I say without question while looking at me adoringly too.” Tenley agreed.

The conversation was halted by the ding of the elevator doors opening to reveal a couple of drunk colleagues from accounting stumbling out tipsy and looking slightly disheveled. They looked around nervously before slipping back into the crowd. “Like we didn’t all know about that…” Tenley said rolling her eyes.

You were glad the conversation shifted away from Ayno. Not only was answering questions about him like walking through a mine field, but something about the champagne or the girl’s words had made you uneasy. You didn’t doubt Ayno truly had feelings for you, but you sometimes wondered if he would stay if he had a choice. Did he only stay with you because he had to? Was this like Stockholm Syndrome where you fall in love with your captor as a coping mechanism? Was he devoted because he had to be, not because he wanted to?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Ayno’s arrival with more champagne. You took the glass he offered, and then turned away to eye the crowd- causing Ayno to frown slightly. Kara, emboldened by the alcohol now coursing through her veins, pounced on him in full getting-to-know-you mode. Normally you would have jumped in and changed the subject, or answered for him, but you were so edgy you decided to just let him handle it. If he freaked out, transformed into his natural form, and rained hellfire on the building then so be it. You still listened with half an ear, proud that he remembered the answers you had practiced to common personal questions.

Your sudden coolness was not lost on Tenley. Sensing that Ayno might need to be rescued from Kara, and the two of you might need a moment, she nudged you, “Hey. Have you shown Ayno our floor yet?”

You looked at her with something between distain and annoyance. “No. I can’t imagine why Ayno would want to see our cubicle farm.”

“Nope. You don’t get a choice. It’s an unwritten rule that all new significant others must get a tour of the prison cells at their first Christmas Party, so they have a frame of reference for stories of office shenanigans and sympathy for the conditions we are suffering in when we have to work late”, she said matter-of-factly. With that, she punched the elevator button, snagged your champagne glass, and shoved you in when the doors opened, Ayno following right behind you trying not to laugh. The last thing you saw was her giving you a cheesy grin and a wave of her waggled fingers.

The elevator ride to the 9th floor was quick but felt like an eternity with the two of you standing in silence, you just out of Ayno’s reach. You walked at the same speed you did during your workday, lengths ahead of Ayno who strolled along behind you down the hall past the conference and break rooms, eventually arriving at the center of the floor full of cubicles.

“This is it.” You sighed, bored.

Ayno nodded. “I have seen this before.”

“Someone summoned you to their office building?”

“No. Purgatory. There are several levels that look just like this. I recommend avoiding it.” He paused, “Which chamber is yours?”

You started walking and Ayno followed you to your desk. “This is it. This is where I spend most of my day”, you said gesturing to your glass walled box full of pre-fab office furniture.

Ayno stepped inside and sat in your chair. You were surprised how normal he looked sitting there, as though you might have come around the corner and found your handsome coworker at his desk.

While you absentmindedly stared off into space, he took in your workspace, thinking to himself that it was rather like a cage, and feeling sorry that you spent so many hours there. He smiled when he saw that the one truly personal thing on your desk was a small photo of the two of you.

Knowing Ayno would follow, you slowly began strolling out of the maze of cubicles, idly wondering how much longer you’d have to stay at the party for people to consider it an “appearance” and what you needed to do to give the impression that you had had a good time.

“What is this place?” you heard Ayno’s voice behind you as he stuck his head into an open doorway.

“That’s the break room.”

“Ah!”, Ayno said with comprehension, “The domain of Cody the Coffee Snob and Amber the Refrigerator Nazi!” You almost laughed– he always asked how your day was when you came home, and you were impressed he had paid attention to your rambling stories about office drama …but it made you feel even less worthy of him. “Was the identity of the Lean Cuisine thief ever discovered?”, he asked as he continued to follow you.

“Nope. It remains a mystery.”

“What is this place?” he asked stepping into yet another doorway.

You followed him. “This is the conference room. We come in here when we have important things to discuss. That triangle thing in the middle of the table lets us watch Power Points, call other offices, make announcements…or sometimes we just use the table and talk.”

You turned to leave, but the door slammed shut. You didn’t need to ask how. Taking a deep breath, you turned and walked back to your waiting demon.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong- I’m fine.”

“No. Something is very wrong. You have stopped speaking to me. You are not looking at me. You are pushing me away”, he paused looking sad and confused “What did I do wrong? Please tell me, because I do not know.”

You sighed. “Nothing…you haven’t done anything wrong – I swear…I was just thinking about things the girls said to me and about you being with me…it just made me question whether you would be here if you had a choice.”

Ayno slipped a hand around your waist and pulled you against his body, his other hand tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “Do you really doubt my feelings for you?” he asked gently.

You looked into his deep eyes and shook your head, “No, I believe your feelings are very real. I just wonder if you would choose to be with me if you had another option.”

Surprisingly, Ayno smiled. He gave a small laugh and a little shake of his head, “How old am I?”

“Uh…Eight hundred and…something…”

“Fourty-four.” He supplied. “You are not my first patron. I have had so many masters and mistresses in these years that I lost track long ago. You are not the first to want to keep me…but you are the only one I have ever stayed with. I assure you that if I wanted to leave, I could make your life so miserable that you would release me and beg me to be gone.”

Then he threaded his fingers into your fancy hair and pulled your face to his. He kissed you hard, tongue pillaging your mouth as he pressed his body tightly against yours. He backed you up until your butt hit the conference table, and then lifted you slightly so you were sitting on it. He finally released your mouth and dove straight for your neck. “No! Ayno! What are you doing?” He pulled his head up and looked at you with eyes so deep they bordered on maroon, “This is a conference room. We are having a conference. Apparently, I need to explain to you again how much I want you. That I will willingly be your slave until the end of time. That I am wholly yours…not just because you keep me, but because I choose to be. So, I’d start taking notes, Mistress, because I am going to fuck you until you get the memo.”

With that he pushed you down on to the table and resumed his attack on your neck. You could feel the heat of his mouth even as the cold of the glass covering the table penetrated your thin dress. You shivered, unsure if it was from that or Ayno’s sudden aggression.

Ayno put one knee up onto the table and pressed his other thigh against your waiting heat as he continued sucking harshly on your neck and chest working his way ever lower. You felt yourself growing warm and wet as he ground his thigh against your core. “Ayno! You’ve got to stop… someone could come in and find us!” you pleaded. “Let them”, he growled low in your ear, “I don’t actually care.”

“I care! Anyone could just walk in! And one whole wall of this room is glass!!” Making an inhuman sound, Ayno raised his head and held one hand up toward the door. A rope of red energy shot out and zig zagged around the door and frame stitching the door closed. Then he waved his hand in the direction of the windows and you watched as they turned black like magic demon limo tint. “Better?” he hissed. He had that determined look on his face – the same one he’d had when he showed up the night of the Halloween party…and once again you realized there was no escape. Ayno in pure demon mode was a dangerous force that both scared the crap out of you and turned you on in a way you could never have imagined. You suddenly noticed that his shirt and jacket had disappeared from his body and recalled his warning about why conjuring his clothes was a bad idea.

His hands roughly yanked the straps from your dress down and to the side pushing your dress down and causing your breasts to spring free. He brought his other leg up onto the table and pushed your dress up to your waist before he reached down and flipped the crotch of your thong to the side plunging his fingers into your already dripping pussy. “Always so wet for me…”,he hummed, “I know how much you want me, and I am going to show you how much I want you”, he said as he worked his fingers in and out of you rapidly while he sucked on your nipples. Your barely there underwear were finally in his way so he pulled them off and slingshot’d them somewhere unknown in the room- not caring about where they landed or how you were going to find them, before plunging his fingers back in and rubbing at your G spot at a frenetic pace. You could feel the pressure building in your belly. Needing an outlet for your own desires, you consciously willed him naked (enjoying that particular power you had) and once your will was done, you reached down and grabbed his cock and begin stroking it. You knew that you didn’t need to, but feeling his length running up and down in your hand felt so good…and you knew that he enjoyed it. “Do you like that?” You choked out. “Yes”, he whispered. “I like it when you touch me.” His fingers rubbed your G spot in time with the strokes you made to his cock. The tingling sensation you were feeling in your fingers and toes was causing your hips to buck. “Oh! Oh!” you cried as you whimpered his name like a mantra as your walls clenched and your juices ran down onto his hand.

He lifted your ankles to his shoulders and slid easily between your folds with how worked up you were. He leveraged his weight and trapped you between him and the conference table as he speared into you hot and hard. Every thrust sent you sliding backward across the table. Your nails dug into his biceps as his thrusts gained in strength and speed and the table began to groan in protest. Somewhere around the middle of the table Ayno’s hands finally found a grip and you stopped sliding. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping your lips and mixed with the sound of skin on skin as his hips slammed into the back of your thighs, the creak of the table and Ayno’s soft grunts, it was intoxicating - you closed your eyes and let it echo in your head and overtake your senses.

You reached between your legs and firmly pinched your clit, rolling the ball of nerves between your fingers. Your mind was empty as you looked at Ayno’s beautiful lust filled face and saw his ab muscles rippling as he drove himself into you. Robbed of the ability to form coherent words, you settled for the vocal equivalent of a keyboard smash as your legs began to shake and your orgasm overtook you. Ayno continued his thrusts until you had ridden out your high before he lowered your legs and unsheathed himself from your over stimulated body.

You laid there on the table, sweaty and panting. Something gleamed out of the corner of your eye and lolled your head to the left. It was a small red light. The world came back into focus as the realization hit you: Ayno’s hand had finally found purchase on the command console in the center of the table…which was where the red indicator light was coming from…on the “Intercom- all office” button. Oh shit. Oh shit no. That thing over-rode everything else…including the music being piped into the party. Your moans of ecstasy weren’t echoing in your head, they had just been echoing through the entire building – including the party in the atrium and on every single floor. Everyone in this building had just heard you and Ayno going at it on the conference table. You reached over and gently pressed the button again, watching as the light went out.

You were in such a state of shock and horror at the realization of what had just transpired that you almost failed to notice Ayno’s naked body, covered in a light sheen of perspiration, planking over you. His eyes, still burgundy ringed with pink, bored into you. “Have we reached an understanding Mistress? Or would you like me to explain it again?”

“I got the memo, and while I’d love to go over it again, I think this is not the place.”

* * *

It had only taken a few moments for you to assess the situation. Your up-do was ruined, you were sweaty and smelled like sex, and you couldn’t find your underwear. You were a hot mess. Worse, the keys to the apartment – and the car- were in your purse that Ayno had politely coat-checked…right by the front doors of the building…so any thoughts of sneaking out an exit door on another floor and just going home without having to see anyone were dashed. You were going to have to do the ultimate walk of shame. The only good thing you could say was that it took only a heartbeat for you to desire Ayno back into the red GQ suit – and there he was- looking like nothing had happened.

As soon as you had finger combed your hair, adjusted your dress, and given up hunting for your thong, Ayno un-tinted the windows and released the door.

The hallway and elevator bank were mercifully empty.

If the elevator ride up had seemed to take forever, the ride down felt like an express. You wanted to just stand in the corner, but Ayno wasn’t having it. He pulled you to his side and wrapped one long arm possessively around your waist.

You took a deep steadying breath, squared your shoulders and lifted your chin as the elevator thumped to a stop. The bell dinged, the doors slid open, and your heart began pounding. Maybe the system was turned off? Maybe everyone was so drunk they wouldn’t notice you?

No such luck. While you were sure it wasn’t really the whole room it felt like everyone turned to stare at the two of you. You felt your face go hot, and you were certain that your cheeks matched Ayno’s suit. Ayno, who wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, kept his arm tightly around you and steered you straight into the crowd. You heard giggles, saw knowing smiles, got some judgmental frowns with accompanying head shakes, and a few hissed “yes girl!”s as you passed people. You saw Kara & Tenley over by the snack table, both sporting giant grins, who as soon as they caught your eye held up a cocktail napkin in each hand like Olympic judges- at least they gave you four 10.00s. You were almost there when Santa, who was in fact Ernie from Accounting, walked by and said “Ooooo! Someone’s on the naughty list now!” …and you could have sworn Brandon from IT high fived Ayno who simply continued strutting along unfazed, with a cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk on his face.

You finally reached the coat check, and Ayno handed the pimple-faced college age clerk the ticket. He returned a moment later with your coat and bag, looked at Ayno and said, “Well at least I don’t have to ask if you two enjoyed the party.” You snatched your bag from him and pushed your way out onto the freezing sidewalk, making a beeline for your car. A moment later, you heard Ayno’s laughter as he ran up behind you and threw your coat around your shoulders before sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you the rest of the way.

* * *

When you got out of the shower, Ayno was lounging on the bed shirtless in a pair of pajama pants. The intense gaze had never left his eyes, so you avoided it by heading to the mirror to comb out your hair. You were about three strokes in when you felt yourself being pulled backwards around the waist. Looking down you saw the red energy rope that was dragging you to your demon’s waiting arms. As soon as you got there, he pulled you against him and the ropes wrapped around the two of you, binding you together. You remembered that struggling would make them tighter, so decided to just enjoy the feeling of being forced against him without escape. The intense look in his eyes was now accompanied by an arched eyebrow. He knew your mind was busy. He was waiting.

You sighed. “I’m sorry about tonight. I know I ruined the party for you…I get so nervous & stressed about things like this… I feel like I keep questioning you Ayno, and it’s not fair. Never once have you not been perfectly clear about your desires, feelings or intentions. So, no more – it’s not your fault I’m being insecure. I apologize for treating you this way, and I will do better.”

Ayno smiled and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I am not upset. I understand. The reality of me challenges everything mortals assume demons to be. We are all supposed to be ugly, deceitful minions of evil, not humanoid in appearance and capable of honesty and feelings. This is not about you or me – it is about whoever damaged your heart before I came. Your questioning comes from fear- the fear that you will experience the same pain again. I am used to this. Do you think I am summoned by people who feel secure and happy and loved? Quite the opposite. I am called to fill a void, and my temporary nature makes me ‘safe’. I told you, I will take good care of you and I will not hurt you. I promise this. You may doubt all you wish. I will just keep explaining it to you over and over and over until you know”, he said kissing your cheeks gently as he finished.

You kissed him deeply before meeting his eyes. “I already know Ayno. But I’m happy to let you remind me as often as possible.”

And with that, Ayno turned out the lights, and reminded you again.

#ayno #vav ayno #demon #demon ayno #noh yoonho #vav fanfiction #vav smut #kpop fanfiction #vav fluff #vav

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vintagevalentinex · 4 years

Text

Fever

So here is another Benny/Reader story (because I have no chill). This fic is inspired by the song Fever by Peggy Lee. I strongly recommend that you listen to the song before and/or while you read the story! Anyway…I hope you like it! :)

@icecream-and-winchesters @bovaria @abaddonwithyall @aprofoundbondwithdean @maraisabellegrey @bkwrm523 @kittenofdoomage @ohfora67impala @theerinpage

Title: Fever Author: vintagevalentinex Words: ~2425 Pairing: (Benny x Reader) Warnings: Smut, smut, smut.

You hated the summer. It was bad enough that you hated the way your legs looked in shorts (that’s another story for a different day.). It was way too hot, and sweating was definitely not on your list of favorite things to do. As much as you hated regular summer, you hated the summers down south exponentially more. The summers in Louisiana were awful. To begin with, the heat was nearly unbearable. That combined with the ungodly humidity and you were a soupy mess.

One would think that would be reason enough to completely avoid that god-forsaken state. But no. There happened to be a very handsome vampire that saved your tail from time to time. You know it sounds crazy…a seasoned hunter having the hots for a vampire. It wasn’t the way things were supped to go. It wasn’t natural. But god damn did it feel so good. The tension between the two of you was electric—and you certainly weren’t the only one to notice. The Winchester brothers would tease you mercilessly whenever you met up. So when are you and Benny hooking up? He was a pirate, you know? Pirates are sexy, right? C’mon (Y/N) the two of you need to get together already.

You had had enough of their teasing. Didn’t they have their own business to attend to? You rolled your eyes as you drove down the familiar highways, sighing as you turned on the AC. Word had it that there were some werewolves causing trouble down in this neck of the woods. You thought it might be a good idea to swing by Benny’s diner to see if he could be any help.

You remember the last time the both of you worked together.

“C’mon (Y/N) I’m not that bad!”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling a little.

“Alright, alright fine. You’re not completely awful.”

Benny held his hands to his heart dramatically. “Oh darlin’ you wound me so!” His eyes twinkled mirthfully as he continued to look at you.

You couldn’t help but mirror the smile he wore as you cleaned off your blade, completely tuckered out after wiping out an entire vampire nest, even with Benny’s help. You found yourself nursing a cup of coffee at the counter of his diner, Benny drying off dishes behind the counter.

“So…you got anywhere ta stay tonight, shug?”

You shrugged your shoulders, letting out a breathy sigh. “Didn’t really think about it yet, to be honest. I was too focused on clearing out the nest.”

“Yer such a vigilant ‘lil hunter.”

“Shut up.”

Benny chuckled, throwing his rag over his shoulder. “Well…if ya’d like…I got a room in the back…ain’t nothin’ much…but it’s somewhere to lay yer head…”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I’m guessing you only have one bed.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Well…was assumin’ ya wouldn’t mind sharin’…”

You rolled your eyes, a smile forming on your lips as you shook your head.

“Not going to happen. I’ve got to hit the road anyway.”

He smiled fondly at you, almost in a way that made you uncomfortable, not because it was creepy, but because it was like he was trying to figure you out, trying to see what made you tick. You chewed on your lip nervously, all of the sudden feeling awkward as he continued to stare unabashedly a grin forming on his lips.

“Well cher, the offer still stands…any time…if ya ever need a place ta crash…”

You nod, your eyes finally able to look at him instead of anywhere else that wasn’t him.

“Thanks, Benny. For that…and the hunt. That would have been a big mess without you.”

He returned your nod, half-smiling, his eyes still boring into you. “Ain’t no thing. M’always happy to help…especially you, (Y/N). You’re always welcome, darlin’.”

You finally rounded the corner, the diner coming into your line of sight. You couldn’t help but smile as your tires crunched in the gravel as you pulled up to the front. You quietly made your way inside, sitting at the same place at the counter that you did last time you rolled through town. You heard Benny yell that he’d be right out, the smile on your lips growing as you heard him walking quickly from the kitchen to the front. He stopped as he realized that you were sitting there.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s blown on in. And jus’ what can I do for ya, Miss (Y/N)? What are ya doin’ in my neck of tha woods, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, the smile still planted firmly on your mouth.

“Hello to you too, Benny. I’ve been hearing that there have been some werewolves causing trouble…know anything about that?”

Benny shrugged his shoulders. “Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ as he spoke, walking around to the front of the room, locking the door and flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed.’ He leaned against the doorframe as you swiveled your stool around to face him, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You winced, scrunching your face up.

“How the hell do you survive in this place, Benny?! It’s so damn hot here!” You pouted, only to receive a hearty chuckle from him. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance. You still had to look up at him from where you were sitting, huffing a little as he laughed at your antics.

“S’not that bad, shug.” He stepped closer, leaning down, placing one of his hands on the counter, half trapping you in. You could feel him breathing in. Was he smelling you? Why did you think this was kind of sexy?

“Maybe it’s the heat talkin’ or maybe I jus’ can’t take it anymore but…and you can tell me if I’m outta line, and we can pretend I never asked…”

You found yourself blushing, becoming very aware of the heat rolling off of his body, your own forming a thin layer of sweat from the sweltering heat. You swallowed hard as he bent down even further, his other arm trapping you in completely, his mouth so very close to yours, his voice low and rough.

“…do you want me?”

Never know how much I love you Never know how much I care When you put your arms around me I get a fever that’s so hard to bear You give me fever when you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight Fever in the mornin’ A fever all through the night

“Yes.”

Benny grabbed your hand, pulling you off the stool, dragging you into the back. He opened a door, taking you into his living space.

“Make yerself comfortable, cher. I’ll be right back. Jus’ hafta close up the kitchen.”

You looked around the room, taking in the dimly lit space, nearly jumping for joy when you spotted a fan. Well…at least it will blow hot air. You turned it on, then making your way over to his bed, your heart already racing. Was this really finally happening?!

Sun lights up the day time Moon lights up the night I light up when you call my name And you know I’m gonna treat you right You give me fever when you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight Fever in the mornin’ A fever all through the night

You fiddled with the hem of your tanktop, the fan providing only a miniscule amount of relief as Benny padded back into the room, a pitcher of ice water and two glasses in hand. He placed them on the shabby, makeshift nightstand as he sat down next to you, his gaze unnerving as you hoped that he would break the silence.

“…you done gone all shy on me now, shug…”

“I, uh…I never thought this would be happening, to be honest.”

“We don’ hafta do anythin’ ya don’t wanna, (Y/N)…”

“Oh trust me…I want to.”

You clamped your hands over your mouth, instantly turning red at your admission. Benny just chuckled, standing up, pouring water and ice into both of the glasses. He stared at you thoughtfully, bringing one of the glasses to your lips, his other hand running up and down your arm as you take large gulps of water.

“Ya know…we’d be much cooler in here if we took our clothes off…”

You laughed, the tension and apprehension dissipating as you stood up, Benny following suit as you turned away from him, facing the bed, your fingers again at the hem of your tanktop, this time more sure of their destination. Benny moved to stand behind you, tutting, clicking his tongue.

“Oh no, darlin’…please…allow me.”

His fingers felt cold from the glass he was holding as he made for the hem of your tanktop, peeling it slowly up your body as he pressed his lower half to your ass, nearly grinding into you as he flung your top across the room. His lips pressed to the back of your neck as you jumped, not realizing that he has an ice cube in his mouth. You could feel your nipples hardening from the sensation.

“Didn’t mean ta startle ya, cher. Jus’ tryin’ ta cool ya down…”

“Somehow…I don’t think that is what you intended.”

He chuckled as you could hear him pulling his own shirt over his head, his heated skin now pressed against your back, his arms surrounding you, hands reaching to cup your bra-clad breasts.

Everybody’s got the fever That is somethin’ you all know Fever isn’t such a new thing Fever started long time ago

Romeo loved Juliet Juliet she felt the same When he put his arms around her He said, “Julie baby you’re my flame” Thou giveth fever, when we kisseth Fever with thy flaming youth Fever I’m on fire Fever yeah I burn forsooth

Benny turned you around, facing him as he drew you in for a searing kiss, nearly knocking you back onto the bed as you scrambled up into a sitting position, your hands working to get your shorts off while Benny was taking care of his own clothing. You were about to help him when he shook his head at you, his smile predatory as he lowered you back to the bed. You laid there, your thighs parted and bent slightly at the knees as you watched Benny lean back over to the nightstand, plucking an ice cube out of the pitcher. You groaned as he straddled your hips, his thick cock pressed against your stomach as he rubbed the ice cube against your lips, shivering a little under his touch as he dragged the ice lower, his lips following the wet trail in its wake.

You let out a hiss as he grabbed another ice cube, dragging it along your nipples, your back arching off of the bed as you felt his lips at the valley between your breasts, pressing cold, wet kisses to your heated flesh. Benny popped the ice cube into his mouth, his tongue swirling into your belly button as you shivered. His eyes darted up to meet yours as his face went lower.

“I think ya need some coolin’ off down here too, darlin’.”

You groaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt the ice pressed against your heated pussy, the muscles in your thighs tensing and twitching as he sucked your clit into his mouth, pressing the melting ice cube against the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your eyes popped open, hands grabbing at his head as you tried to push him off of you.

“Enough!…Benny, please!!…I need…”

“Shhh, easy does it ‘lil baby…I know what ya need…”

Captain Smith and Pocahontas Had a very mad affair When her daddy tried to kill him She said “daddy oh don’t you dare” “He gives me fever with his kisses” “Fever when he holds me tight” “Fever, I’m his misses” “Daddy won’t you treat him right?”

Benny gave your pussy one last kiss before getting up on his knees, grabbing at your thighs and wrapping them around his waist, his erection grinding into your pussy. You gasped at the pillows above your head as you watched him lean down; careful to not let your torsos touch (It was too damn hot for that.). He grasped your hands into his larger ones tightly, pinning you down into the bed as he eased himself into you, the both of you groaning in unison as he was finally seated inside of you. You dug your heels into his muscled ass, encouraging him to move any way you could.

“Please….Benny, please…”

“M’always happy to help.”

He snapped his hips, his pace immediately changing as he thrust himself into you, rocking the entire bed as you could do nothing but take what he wanted to give you. You could feel sweat dripping off of his skin to mingle with yours. While normally this would probably gross you out, you couldn’t care less right now as long as he kept pounding into you.

You could feel your build up reaching its peak and you could tell that Benny would soon be following you. You clenched around him tightly, trying to urge him to cum with you as your vision started to blur, seeing stars as you convulsed beneath him, knowing that he was following you over the edge. He collapsed next to you, just as worn out as you were.

Now you’ve listened to my story Here’s the point that I have made Chicks were born to give you fever Be it Fahrenheit or centigrade They give you fever when you kiss them Fever if you live and learn Fever till you sizzle What a lovely way to burn What a lovely way to burn What a lovely way to burn What a lovely way to burn

Despite the heat, he dragged you over to his side, humming happily when he brought the ice cold glass to yours lips, the feeling of the ice water was pleasurable as it hit the back of your throat. After putting down the glass his hands found your hair, surprisingly plaiting it back for you. Was there anything he couldn’t do?! “So…tell me ‘bout them werewolves you were goin’ on ‘bout before…”

“Hmm…?”

Benny chuckled, turning on his side to get a good look at you, sleepy and sated. He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Mmm darlin’, you’re burnin’ up again…might need ta cool ya down som’more.”

You giggled sleepily as he rolled back over on top of you.

What a lovely way to burn.

#spn #benny lafitte #benny lafitte x reader #benny lafitte/reader #repost #new blog #my vampirate

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