#i just think that. Ok wait. Is this a safe space? i’m not putting this into their tags so im gonna act like this is a safe space

[fldx2]

[sometimesanalice]

California Dreaming

Summary: At sometime past 4am, the last thing you would have ever expected was to receive a call from Bradley Bradshaw. But time is a funny thing it feels like it might be running out.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.6K

Warnings: angst and a bit In-N-Out slander

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on its own!)

You’re pulled from the light sleep you’d just barely managed to slip into by the sound of your phone ringing.

Although you weren’t too sure if your mind was playing tricks on you again. And in that liminal space between awake and asleep, you didn’t trust yourself to know the different anymore. Sleep and you haven’t been on the best of terms over the couple of months, and you had the dark circles under your eyes to prove it.

Your boss had told you about the chatter he’d heard about a position opening up soon at the West Coast office. It was an opportunity that would be perfect for you, minus the fact it would involve uprooting your entire life and moving across the country. You still hadn’t given him an answer yet whether he should put you forward for it or not. But you’d taken to sleeping with your ringer on just in case you were needed for anything, not wanting to close the door completely. And you’d woken up in a panic more than once thinking you’d slept through an emergency call, only to see absolutely zero new notifications.

Just when think it might have been another stress induced fluke, it goes off again.

Bleary eyed, you scramble to reach it. Wanting to silence it to not wake up your boyfriend from his more-peaceful-than-yours slumber. Only half-consciously noting it’s sometime past 4 AM.

However, it’s the name splashed across the screen that makes your heart stop.

𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗘𝗬 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗪

You sit straight up, the crisp white sheets your boyfriend preferred pooling around your waist.

“Bradley?” You don’t even remember hitting the green button before the phone was up to your ear. “Bradley? Are you ok?” The words come out a sleepy slur all jumbled together by your sluggish tongue.

He’d texted you when he landed back on US soil; a silly selfie with crinkled bag of McDonalds in his hand and the American flag in the background. It had made you grin like an idiot when your phone had lit up with it.

You knew that he had been called back to Top Gun, but that was as much as he’d been able to tell you.

With the time difference, it makes it the hour too early for you, but also too late for him. He should be asleep right now. But you know Bradley, he wouldn’t be calling right now unless it was about something important.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know it’s late there,” Bradley apologizes. “Or early, I guess.”

Tired. He sounds so tired.

You didn’t doubt he was still probably fighting the jetlag that came with being in San Diego after living in Japan for the last year and a half. But it was the weariness in his tone that had you concerned.

“But you’re ok?” you press. You needed to hear it.

“I…” he pauses, then sighs. “Yeah, kid. Everything’s fine.”

You blow out a relieved breath, rubbing at your heavy eyes.

“Good. That’s good,” you nod, reassuringly. Not that he can see you.

He is safe. He is ok. That’s all that matters to you.

Jack groans your name. “Seriously?” The word drips of exasperation and annoyance.

You wince. Less at its sharpness, but more at the feeling like you can’t seem do anything right lately.

You and your boyfriend have been together a little over two years now. You have a comfortable life together in Boston, nice even. But you shook the snowglobe of your relationship when you’d first mentioned the possibility of a promotion and moving, and it still felt like you were waiting for the remainders of all those stirred up flakes to settle back down.

“Give me a minute, Bradley,” you whisper into the phone, “Don’t hang up.” Your voice is so quiet you’re not even sure he heard you.

You turn towards your boyfriend, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already rolled over away from you.

A literal cold shoulder.

Your eyes trace over the exposed skin of his back. It’s dark, but you could point out where every freckle is on him with bullseye precision. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he knew you as well.

Like when he’d bring you red roses, a flower you’ve never felt one way or another about. You’d tell yourself it’s the thought that counts, that it’s the gesture that matters. But for as many times as you’ve bought your favorite flowers yourself and displayed them on the coffee table in your shared living room, Jack has never once brought them home for you.

It made you wonder sometimes if he even truly wanted you, if he cared enough to pay attention. Or if he was just content in the fact that you’d be there.

And then you’d feel guilty for even thinking that in the first place.

But you didn’t just break up with someone over flowers.

Or the way he always seemed to make plans for you with his friends without ever asking you first. Or the way he was never more attentive to you until the two of you were in front of a group.

There’s a sliver of moonlight peeking through the edges of the blinds of your bedroom. A set of curtains would have solved the issue, but you’d never been able to get Jack on board. It was something you there thankful for now as you tiptoed out of the room with just enough light to make sure you wouldn’t trip over anything.

You ease the door gently closed behind you, feeling some of the tension melt from your body.

“Ok, I’m back,” you tell your best friend.

“I take it we woke up Jack?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, padding towards the black leather couch in the living room. You fight back the hiss that wants to be released when your bare thighs touch the ice-cold material. The October chill had a way of sneaking in everywhere. “He’s got a big pitch presentation on Friday,” you say, feeling like you need to explain, “So he’s just a bit on edge right now.”

Bradley makes a noncommittal sound, something close but not quite like a disapproving rumble. You distract yourself from reading into it too much by turning on the lamp on the side table to its lowest setting. A dim glow illuminating the living room.

“Tell me, how’s California?” It’s a pivot. You know you’re trying to smooth things over; you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

“Sunny.”

You snort and roll your eyes.

“It seems you left good jokes back in Japan,” you tease. You pull your knees up to your chest and reach for your favorite soft knit blanket, tucking it around you. “Be honest, how many things did you forget to pack this time?”

Bradley groans your name. This time you smile.

“I had to take scissors to my favorite pair of Levi’s, because I didn’t bring any shorts for the beach.”

Picturing the pained look on his face as he desecrated his favorite jeans nearly sends you into a fit a giggles. But out of respect for the fallen and your best friend’s feelings you press your lips together, the corners pulling up on their own.

You can’t resist lightly teasing him though, “Beach jeans? That sounds like a choice.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Bradley says, solemnly. The drama queen.

“Is there someone who saw you in them that I could bribe for some new blackmail material?” you ask. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my hands on anything truly juicy.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but I looked damn good in them.”

This time you don’t hold back the laugh, only muffling it with a hand over your mouth when you realize that your boyfriend could probably hear you through the closed door.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Give me some time and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll make some space in my Bradshaw Blackmail folder in the meantime.” Bradley’s warm chuckle in your ear makes the room feel less cold. “So what else have you been up to?”

“We haven’t had a ton of down time, but I did hit up an In-N-Out with Natasha the other night.” That was a name you were familiar with. You’ve never met Bradley’s fellow aviator and friend, but you were happy he had someone with him there that he was close to. “It was the same one I took you to when you came to visit after I finished Top Gun the first time.”

It was a fluke of fate that you’d been sent to the West Coast office for some training around the time that Bradley was on leave before being sent back to his squadron. The overlap was only for a few days, but the two of you had made the most of it.

“Who knew you were such a sentimentalist?” You lean your head back against the couch.

“It’s the closest one to base,” he justifies, “Although, you’ll be happy to know their milkshakes are still trash.”

You grin. “Hey, I never said they were trash. That was all you, Bradshaw.”

You’ve only been there the once, but it had been fun getting to experience it with him for your first time. He’d ordered more than enough food for two people, making sure to get some of the more classic not-so-secret menu items for you to try. And the Neapolitan shake had been fine, but the ones from the ice cream shop in your hometown where Bradley had had his first job were much better.

“Your face said otherwise,” he bats back.

You hum noncommittally, not wanting to concede. It was more fun for you this way, even if he was right. Not to mention no one knows how to read your face better than Bradley does.

When you don’t argue, he continues, “There’s even a rumor going around that they might want to keep some of us around longer. Like they’d form a new squadron that would be stationed here.”

You perk up, “In San Diego? You could be there permanently?” Between his deployments and moving around from base to base, you don’t think he’s been in one place for more than two years since he went to UVA. “That would be amazing.”

“Yeah, it really would,” Bradley agrees, he sounds hopeful, “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

‘Hope for the best, but expect the worst’ was the motto he seemed to live by. He’d had the rug pulled out from underneath him more times than anyone else you knew.

The two of you are quiet for a moment.

You don’t want to push him into talking about whatever the reason is that he’s called so early in the morning. But no matter how many jokes you trade with him, it’s still in the forefront of your mind. And try as you might, you can’t shake that feeling of unsettledness that was resting heavily on your chest.  

Outside your living room window, the streetlights are bright against the dark sky.

You’ve told him more times than you could count that he could call you any time, but Bradley being Bradley has always made it a point to call during hours that were convenient for you, even if that meant he was still up at some ungodly hour.

But that was so him, always putting everyone else ahead of himself.

With the confidentiality that goes hand in hand with his job, you know he can’t talk about the specifics. It was something you were used to after nearly a decade of Naval service behind him.

You nibble on your lower lip, weighing your words.

“How’s it been with…” You trail off, but you know he knows who you’re referring to. You run a hand up and down your calf, trying to warm up quicker.

Mav? Pete? He’d been Captain Mitchell the last time you’d seen him back when you were in high school, you weren’t sure what his rank was now.

Mav has always been the number one topic on Bradley Bradshaw’s No Fly List. The few times you’ve dared to bring it up in the past had been shut down quicker than you think he could probably fly his jet.

Bradley told you last week in a text that had simply read He’s here. You didn’t even have to ask who he was. It had been just as much of a shock to you as you imagined it probably was for him seeing the man who had derailed his dreams when everything else in his world had already fallen apart.

It was a story you’d always thought there had been more to, but between the two of them you’d always be Team Bradley. That’s how it was supposed to be for best friends.

You can feel Bradley mulling over his answer. “It’s been… motivating.”

The way he says it you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. And maybe he doesn’t even know himself.

You sit up straighter on the couch. “Oh?” you say, casually. Neutrally. Not wanting to let your inflection to color Bradley’s response.

Their reunion has been a long time coming, you just wished you could be there for him with this the way he’s always been there for you. Not just on the phone, but there by his side.

Bradley sighs again, it’s heavier this time. Like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s probably roughly running his hand down his face, the way he always does when he’s really, truly frustrated. Like he’s trying to free those too big feelings from trapped beneath his skin.

“I’m flying with him for the first time in my career. I want him to see why I’m here. I want to show him.” The anger, the hurt rings though loud and clear. But so does the determination. “These patches I’ve been called back are the best of the best that there is. And I’m one of them, kid. And I got here on my own, without him.”

You wait to see if he is going to continue or not, wanting to give him the space to talk through his feelings, but he’s gone quiet again.

“You’ve worked so hard for this, Bradley.”

“It was all I ever wanted,” he says, his voice rough, “To be like them.”

Like Mav. Like Ice. Like his dad.

You’d been there for the fallout. He’d been crushed when he didn’t get to go to the Academy, the self-destruction that followed had been hard to watch. You’d seen the way he had to pick up the pieces of his life. The way the boy had quickly had to become a man. Every choice Bradley has made since then has been with one purpose in mind.

He’d set out to be a Naval aviator and he’d achieved it.

“You should be so proud of yourself,” you say, softly.  “I know I am.”

You imagine Mav is proud too, but you don’t say that part out loud.

After all, he practically helped raise Bradley- in his own way.  Always calling whenever he could. Sending presents. Spending his leave time with the Bradshaws. They’d been a family.

“Sometimes-” Bradley cuts himself off, trying to collect his thoughts. You can almost feel the tormented whirlwind of them through the phone. “Sometimes,” he starts again, “There are moments, when I see him fly- it’s crazy shit that no one but him can do- and I forget. Just for a second. But then I remember and it’s like I’m eighteen and feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut all over again.”

Your stomach twists in the same way it always does when you’re reminded of that rough period in time when the two of you were just teens. And now that you’re older, your ache even more for the boy whose whole world was so turned upside down by the one person he thought would never let him down.

“When we’re flying together, I’m reminded how it could have been. How it should have been,” he corrects himself, roughly. “I thought I was fucking over it. It’s been fifteen years, kid. And I’m pissed at myself because he should be nothing to me, I shouldn’t care what he thinks.” His voice is a hoarse rasp. “Why can’t I get over it?”

It’s times like this where you can feel every mile between the two of you. Every inch of space in your long-distance friendship. And it chafes at you that all you can be is an ear for him to vent to rather than a shoulder for him to lean on.

“There’s no version of this where it wasn’t going to be tough. And I don’t think you trying to brush off who he was to you, like none of that mattered, is going to make this any easier for you,” you tell him. “Not with the history the two of you have. And you can’t punish yourself for having feelings about it.”

“I told him no one would mourn him if he burned in.” He all but blurts it out.

Your suck in sharp breath and you shake your head in disbelief, “Bradley, you didn’t.” There’s no hiding the shock in your voice.

You know there’s an unspoken code of conduct between aviators from the things you’ve picked up from the way he’s talked about his career and fellow Naval officers over the years. That when everyone’s lives are so dependent on each other to look out for one another, there were certain things you didn’t joke about. Things you didn’t throw around, not even in the heat of a moment.

“Shit, shit,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. 

You don’t know what to say to him. It’s silent in your darkened living room. The only sound is of his affected breathing over the phone.

You can’t keep dancing around things with him anymore tonight. He cracked open the door, but now you’re the one pushing through it.

“Bradley, what happened?”

His voice is strained when he speaks again, “We had a couple accidents during training a few days ago- no one was hurt.” He is quick to clarify, and you know it’s for your benefit. “It was a bird strike and they had to eject, but they were cleared to fly the next morning.” It hits too close to home all the same. You don’t worry about anyone the way you worry about Bradley. “Mav found me in the Ready Room later that night, and it was just the two of us alone for the first time since everything happened. He was talking to me like I was the kid he’d helped raise, instead of the one he’d fucked over. And then all that anger came rushing back. So I did what I always seem to do, I went for all the things that I knew would hurt him the most.”

You squeeze your eyes tight in sympathy. You’ve been on the receiving end of Bradley’s sharp tongue before. You’ve never held it against him, but you’ve also never forgotten the way his words sliced straight through you.

“I knew it was fucked up as I said it, but in that moment it felt good to hurt him the way he hurt me,” Bradley says, quietly. Every word feels chewed on, like they’d be covered in indents of his teeth. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in his eyes, kid. I really fucked up. It’s been eating at me ever since.” He pauses and clears his throat. “I hate that part of myself. I hate that I said that to him, regardless of the shit we’ve been through.” His voice is pinched, tight. “My mom would be so disappointed in me.”

The guilt in his voice is unmistakable and it's a confession you can tell that takes a lot out of him. No one holds on to regrets- or grudges- like he does. Even if the one he’s holding it against is himself. You know this is going to be something he’ll carry around with him for a long time to come.

But it is the way he stumbles over the mention of Carole that cracks your heart open.

You had grown up adoring her. She’d been lightning in a bottle. Her smile was always the brightest in the room, and her laughter always made people stop to look wanting to be in on the joke too. There was no one quite like her.

And after she died, you’d mourned that loss too. You still carried the evidence of that love with the scar issue on your heart. But for Bradley, that was a wound that no amount of time would ever fully heal for him. Forever a reminder of who wasn’t there.

He’d already lost so much. First, his dad. Then his mom. And now with his uncle.

Bradley had told you about Ice and his passing. You knew they had come to an understanding in the after of everything. It was a relationship held together by a monthly phone call or two, and a dinner invite whenever Bradley was in town. He’d called you during one of his breaks on the morning he found out, troubled because he didn’t know he’d even been sick.

Just more time missed with someone who had meant something to him.

You didn’t want him to regret saying those harsh words without the chance to make amends. You didn’t want him to miss out on any more time with people who wanted to be there for him. You didn’t want him to shoulder around that pain and resentment anymore. A decade and a half of it was more than enough to carry that around. You didn’t want him to forever push away the one person who probably cared for him just as much as you did.

“So apologize,” you gently urge him. “Talk to Mav and apologize. For him and for you.”

He sighs, heavily, “It’s not that simple.”

Gone is the quiet girl in her dark living room. You want him to hear you. “It really is though, Bradley. Tell him. Pull him aside after class or get there early. Or take him to that bar on the beach you told me about and buy him a beer. Don’t let this be a thing you can’t take back. You can still apologize.”

“I-I don’t think I can. There’s not enough time for that now.” His words are stilted.

You feel your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “Aren’t you guys there for a couple more weeks?” He doesn’t answer you right away and you feel a chill drift across you, even under your blanket. “Does that mean you’re shipping out soon?”

“It’s why I called.” There’s something more serious in his tone, you’re talking to the Naval officer now. “We got the orders, we ship out tomorrow. Or later today, technically.”

There’s a swooping sensation in your stomach and it feels like the floor has fallen out beneath your feet.

“Goddamn it, Bradshaw. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Your voice wavers.

“I know, I probably should have.” At least he has the good sense to admit it. “I just wanted to talk to you, like normal. Although we didn’t get very far before I derailed the conversation,” he says, self-deprecatingly. “Do you think you can give me a few more minutes of normal, kid?”

You know there’s not much you can ask, and even less than he can tell you. You’re surprised you even allowed to know this much.

But you don’t need a dossier of confidential government information to tell you that whatever he’s being sent to do is dangerous, because you’d be able to read even the most redacted version of Bradley Bradshaw. You’d known something was off from the very moment you’d seen his name lighting up your phone.

You don’t want him to feel your anxiousness, you don’t want to add to whatever else he’s currently going through. Bradley called you because he wants to let his mind relax. So if he wants normal, you can give him normal. You can give him as much as he wants, as much as he needs.

“I’m sorry for making fun of your beach shorts.”

Bradley huffs a soft laugh, “No, you’re not.”

“You know,” you muse, fighting to keep your tone light and airy, “I haven't played hooky in a while and I have some miles to use before the end of the year.”

“You want to come out here?” The suggestion works just like you hoped it would, he sounds less troubled than before.

“I could use some Vitamin D and a milkshake. Do you know a good place to make it worth my while?”

“I might. It depends on your opinion is about Neapolitan shakes though.” Your nose scrunches up on its own. “Are you making that face, kid?”

“No,” you reply too quickly.

“Liar.”

You smile to yourself. “I’ll even let you pick me up from the airport and you can finally show me that Bronco of yours in person. It only seems fair that I get to see what all the hubbub is about after I’ve spent hours letting you talk my ear off about it: V8 engine this and four-speed manual transmission that.” You do your best Bradley impersonation and earn an amused scoff from him.

He’d bought it right before he’d been sent to Japan. Ice and his wife had been looking after it for him while he was away. Bradley had even documented his reunion with it after landing back on US soil by sending you a video of it with him humming the Peaches & Herb song in the background.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Bradley says. You think he might be smiling too.

It’s all to easy for you to slip into a normal conversation with him. He asks about your mom and stepdad. You don’t mention the possible promotion, but instead tell him about the passive aggressive microwave fish debacle that plagued the entire floor for days.

The two of you talk about nothing in a way that feels like everything. And every chuckle you pull out of him feels like a victory. Your tired eyes flutter shut on their own, with them closed you can almost pretend he’s sitting right next to you, until a yawn slips out of you without your permission.

“It’s getting late, I should let you go.”

You want to keep talking to him, but you can imagine the circles that have already formed under his eyes over the last few days. “You should get your sleep. Rest up, because we have big milkshake plans…and you’re not allowed to stand me up. Got it, Bradshaw?”

“I hear you,” he promises. “Try to stay out of trouble until I get back, kid.”

“No promises.” You feel your lower lip wobble.

“Atta girl.”

You laugh. It sounds a little watery to your own ears, but you hope he doesn’t hear it. You’re grateful he didn’t choose to FaceTime you. It’s probably for the best he can’t see your face, you’ve never been a very good poker player.

“Be safe, Bradley.”

You’ve already decided that you’ll let him be the one to hang up first. You didn’t have it in you to hit the red button before he did.

He blurts out your name. “Wait.”

“I’m still here,” you answer, quickly.

You hear him sigh in relief. “I-You know you’re my favorite, right?”

“I know.” Your throat gets thick and your eyes prickle. “And you’re mine.”

“Yeah?”

Your friendship with him as always mattered the most to you. It wasn’t even a question.

“Of course. I didn’t make very intricate embroidery floss friendship bracelets at summer camp when I was thirteen for just anyone, you know.” You’d spent hours making him one in his favorite colors. He’d worn it until it fell off and then asked for another. “You’re my favorite too,” you repeat, wanting him to hear it again.

“Ok. Ok, good,” Bradley says. He lets out a slow breath. “See you soon for milkshakes, kid.”

“See you soon.” It comes out a reedy whisper.

You stay on the line until he hangs up.

And only when the screen goes black do you allow yourself to give into the emotions that had been surging up inside of you.

With the corner of your blanket, you wipe at the tears that are making hot tracks down your cheeks. There’s a hollowness that has settled in your chest that you don’t think will go away until he tells you when to book your ticket to come and see him.

It doesn’t matter that you remind yourself that he is one of the best at he does. Or that you know he’ll be with other people who are just as good as he is. In all the years he’s been in the Navy, you’ve never once heard him sound that unsure before, and it’s rattled you.

It’s not that you didn’t know there was risk every time he sat in the cockpit of his fighter jet, even if it was just to train. But this was the first time it’s ever felt like he was preparing you for the possibility that you might never see or hear from him again.

You didn’t want to imagine a world with Bradley Bradshaw in it.

He’s never once broken a promise with you, and he wasn’t allowed to start now.

You don’t know how long you sit there in the dark with only your feelings and the sound of the clock on the wall for company.

Your eyes drift towards the closed bedroom door, where you’re sure Jack is sleeping unbothered on a soft mattress between stark white sheets.

It hits you then that he hadn’t come to check on you.

It’s still just as dark outside. Only the little lamp next to the couch offers any light, as you look around your living room.

You’d liked all the exposed brick when you’d first moved in, had imagined all the ways you could soften the apartment with things to make it more cozy for you and your boyfriend. More like the two of you.

But the books on the bookcase had been carefully chosen to fit a neutral color palette, while all your favorites had been moved to the smaller one in the office. Their colorful covers hidden away. The spot where you thought some kind of landscape painting could have gone, had a photograph of a sepia-toned city hanging there instead. It was still art, but it was the kind of thing that had been made to disappear into the background.

You keep waiting to see a piece of yourself reflected in the room, some mark of you that had been left behind in the home you live in, but other than the black and white striped rug that had been too good of a deal to pass up on at a store with a no return policy, none could be found. You didn’t see any of yourself there at all.

You thought that you’d been making compromises, but it’s dawning on you that all along really what you’ve been doing is making concessions. A one-sided partnership. When all you ever wanted was to share a life with someone.

Earlier you found yourself making excuses to Bradley, but now it felt like something you weren’t sure you wanted to look past.

You are tired.

And not because it’s sometime around 5 AM now. You’re already well past the start of a new day.

You’re tired of being the one to trying to make something work.

You’re tired of being the one who always makes a genuine effort.

You’re tired of red roses.

Maybe people did end relationships over flowers. Or the art on the walls.

Grabbing your phone, you open your email ignoring all the messages that are already waiting for you, and start typing out a message. When you’re done, you read it over a couple of time before sending it off to your boss. The whoosh that follows as it bounces off the exposed brick in the quiet living room feels like progress.

You didn’t want to miss out on any more time either.

Not with the people who mattered the most to you. The people you mattered the most to.

Leaning over the arm of the couch you turn off the lamp and stretch out to get comfortable on the cushions underneath you. You tuck a throw pillow under your head and drape the blanket over you.

From this angle, you can almost pretend the city lights look like stars.

Your alarm is already set, and if you’re lucky you can doze a bit longer before it will go off all too soon.

But it’ll ok if sleep doesn’t find you.

You’re already California dreaming.

Who gave me permission to do this to myself?! Oh my heart. Don't mind me, I'm just in my angsty era. Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[dovedewdrop]

Scratch My Back

Masterlist

Joel Miller x reader

word count: 889

Summary: The tide is pulling you under, just like it has plenty of times before. Your husband helps you communicate.

A/N: I’ve been struggling with my mental health & looking after myself for a long, long time and I was getting myself all psyched up to get a shower but I didn’t end up getting in and decided to write this lil thing that I’ve been thinking about for a while! I hope you enjoy it and if anyone out there is reading this and is struggling too, just know that you are not alone and that if Joel Miller were real, he would scratch your back❤️

Also thank you so much for 100 followers🥹🫶🏻 really brightened up my spirits a lil bit💓

Warnings: No Outbreak. Depiction of poor mental health. Sadness. One big loving man (it’s Joel Miller) (Not a warning but I didn’t want it to seem all doom and gloom😅) No use of Y/N.

To Joel, it was just a Wednesday, your day off. To you, the ceiling was caving in. Before he left for work you were sound asleep, your thoughts at bay, laying still against the sand, he placed a gentle kiss to your temple before rolling out of bed. Now that you were awake your thoughts were thrashing against the cliffs, the mental whiplash you were facing ultimately draining your body of all its energy.

You watch the clock on the bedside table blink from one minute to the next. You thought about all if the things you should probably be doing; showering, tidying the house, preparing that home cooked meal you’d been promising your husband for over a week but all you could do was slip in and out of sleep, that was the safe option, the one that would keep you somewhat sane until he returned. You didn’t want to bother him, didn’t want to text him those three words because you knew he would stop everything for you, everything would be put on hold so that he could soothe you and you didn’t want to add that onto the ever-growing list of things to feel bad about. So you waited.

“Honey?” His voice reverberated off the walls, the sound of his gentle tone floated up the stairs. You didn’t have the energy to shout back, the sound of his boots hitting the wooden steps told you that it wouldn’t be long until he was by your side anyway. He took in the sight of the drawn curtains, the sight of you facing them, still in your t-shirt and underwear and you felt the bed dip behind you, the warmth of his body encompassing yours, his scent filling your scenes. 

“Something happen?” A gentle kiss placed to your shoulder blade, the feeling of his lungs emptying and filling behind your back soothing you. You shook your head, allowing a silence to draw over you both as Joel’s arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you further back into the curve of his body. He was always so patient with you, so tender.

“Scratch my back.”

Scratch my back, a cry for help. A promise made between two lovers. A rule established when you’d first started dating. Joel knew that you struggled with your mental health, you’d opened up to some extent, brushing him off with a ‘I’m having a tough day but I’ll be ok x’ text in the beginning, even then he gave you your space. 

One week in spring however, everything was not okay. He hadn’t heard from you in four days, no text and definitely no phone calls. At first he thought that this was your way of letting him know you were no longer interested and selfishly, he couldn’t let it end that way. So after days of mulling it over and chewing his bottom lip raw, he drove over to your apartment and that’s where he found you, dark circles engulfing your eyes, threatening to swallowing them whole, hair unwashed, apartment flooded in gloom.

He took a bath with you, washed your hair as best he could. The spring air still had a slight chill to it so he’d made sure your new set of pyjamas were on the radiator ready for bed and he laid with you in silence until you turned into his chest and he felt the wet of your tears seep into the fabric of his shirt. 

“You don’t have to talk to me.” He pressed a kiss into your hairline. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to talk to me, I mean obviously you can, when you feel comfortable and ready to but there is something I want you to do for me baby,” another soft kiss. Your eyes travelled up his face to finally look him in his eyes, those soft brown eyes that made you fall in love with him in the first place. All you could do was give a small nod, you would do anything he asked. “I want you to come up with a word or a phrase,” he continued, “so that when things get bad and you don’t feel like you can talk about it…” he trailed off, his hands drawing shapes up and down the length of your spine.

“Like a safe word?” He let out a huff of air at that, a small smile adorning his face.

“Yeah, kinda like a safe word, so I know that you’re safe,” his palm came to rest on your cheek, thumb cupping your jaw, “up here,” and his fingers tapped gently on the side of your temple.

“Scratch my back,” It was soft, the way it came out, tears threatening to spill over, “because if you promise to scratch mine, i’ll always scratch yours.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling then, the last thing you wanted was for Joel to see you like this and to become his burden, but the way he’d shown you such care and compassion made your head feel a little less foggy, you wanted to promise that you could do that in return, that it wouldn’t just be him constantly looking after you.

“Oh sweet angel.” Both of his hands were cupping your cheeks now, pressing a light kiss to your nose and then your lips.

[emmy19-05]

So Long, London

Ona Batlle x Reader

GIF from: GIF Maker (ios app)

SUMMARY: After multiple years of playing soccer in London, you return to your hometown to join a highly regarded local team. Upon arrival, you are reunited with Ona, an old teammate, who has become a key player on the team. Despite some initial tension and unresolved feelings from the past, Ona offers you a room in her apartment. As you settle in and start training, a flood in your room forces you to stay with Ona, leading to a rekindling of old emotions and a deep, unexpected connection between you two.

SMUT 18+

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Warning!! Contains: cunnilingus, strap/strap sucking, fingering, dirty talk, praising, etc.

(ONA AND THE READER ARE SWITCHES!! They both give and receive in this.)

I’m aware this is longer than most of my other fics😭 but i really enjoyed writing this! This is for all of you who voted for Ona in my poll. haha

Word Count: 2.9k

You are about to board your plane, leaving your old life behind in London. Your time with Chelsea is finally up. You feel sad leaving your old team behind, but you feel you need to start a new chapter in your life. You are excited to go back to your hometown and to hopefully reconnect with some old friends. As you board the plane you think about how excited you are to join the new team who offered you a contract. The team is known in your hometown to be really good and talented, and you can’t wait to meet your new coach and teammates.

You just landed in your hometown, which you haven’t visited in multiple years. You decide to head to your hotel. You just got the offer for the contract recently, so you don’t have a permanent place to stay yet. As you wait in the Uber for the driver to drive you to your hotel, you think about how much you’re going to miss Chelsea and all your friends you almost consider your family.

You realize that your Uber driver is looking at you, you then look out your window to see that you are at your hotel. You hurry up and get out hoping you weren’t staring off into space for too long since he looks annoyed at you. As you walk up to the front desk to check-in you check your phone and see a text from Zecira, a goalie from Chelsea, who you became good friends with during your time at Chelsea. She just wished you a safe travels which you reply a quick thank you and a quick update on everything.

After checking into your hotel, you check the time. It’s currently 3:28pm and you have training at 5pm, you decide to start to get ready. You shower and put on your training kit, excited to meet your new team and coach, you then get into an Uber to head to the stadium.

Traffic is horrible, so you are glad you left early. You forget how bad traffic is here. Especially near the stadium. Your hotel is only 10 minutes away from the stadium, but the Uber’s navigation you can see on the dashboard is saying another 21 minutes. You huff out and start to feel anxious, you simply cannot be late on your first training.

You get into the locker room at 5:24 and you feel immediate relief that you aren’t late . You don’t see any other players in the locker room, so you figure that they’re already on the field warming up. As you put your stuff in your assigned locker, you walk out onto the field at exactly 5:30, well and 39 seconds, but who’s counting? You look around to see if you see the coach so you can go introduce yourself. You spot her in the corner of the pitch talking to some other players. You feel excited to introduce yourself to everyone, but kinda nervous too. You haven’t done much research about the team or who’s on it, you just know they’ve been top of the league for multiple seasons. So you were honored to see they wanted to sign you. As you walk over to your coach you see her look up and smile at you

“Well hello, you must be y/n” The coach says

“Yes, I am! It’s very nice to meet you ma’am.” You say

“Oh please, coach is fine.”

“Ok you got it, coach,” you laugh as she smiles at you.

She’s an older woman probably in her mid 50’s, but she seems really nice. You’re happy at least the coach likes you, well at least you hope.

“Ok, well let’s go introduce you to the team.” Coach says

“Ok, let’s do it.” You smile

You feel tense and nervous hoping you get along with everyone. As you walk up to the team you go to look at all of them, but someone immediately catches your eye. You recognize her from your old team before you made it to the big leagues and moved to London to play in the WSL. You feel tense as she eyes you up and down. You wonder if she recognizes you. It’s been years after all and you look way different. Ona is a full-back, one of the best you’ve ever seen. Ona looks different too, she looks good, really good. You were surprised she never decided to go pro, guess you were wrong because she did, only if you kept in touch. You remember reaching out to her, she always texted you back, of course, but you remember her replies to you always getting shorter and shorter.

You realize the whole time you were thinking about Ona, Coach was introducing you to everyone. You weren’t paying attention at all. It’s going to be awkward having to re-ask everyone’s names because you weren’t paying attention.

“y/n, now that you’ve met everyone, Ona here informed me that you two were on an old team together years back, so I decided to make Ona your official partner for the next few games, consider her a guide. If you have any questions just ask me or her.”

You glare at Ona and she raises her eyebrow and winks. You roll your eyes wondering why Ona after all these years after you ghosting you wanted to be your “guide” you scoff.

“Hello, y/n” Ona walks up to you and says

“Hi,” You say “surprised you remember me.”

“Why wouldn’t I remember you?” Ona says

“Why do you think? Actually never mind don’t answer that. I really don’t care” You begin to walk away.

Ona grabs your wrist and says

“You can’t ignore me forever, princesa,”

You roll your eyes at the nickname she gave you. You remember her calling you that all those years ago then you walk away annoyed.

Game day (2 weeks later)

You are in the locker room getting ready for the first game of the season. Since you barely joined the team; you aren’t starting, but Ona is. You are at least a sub though. You don’t care though it’s routine for every new team you join. You usually don’t immediately start. Especially your first game.

Your team wins the game 3-1. You get subbed in during half-time. You think you did pretty good for your first game on a new team. Ona comes up to you and says

“Hey we are going to go out for some drinks to celebrate if you wanna join us?”

“No thanks” You say

“Oh please, come on.” Ona says

“No, I have to meet up with my real estate agent later tonight and I'm not showing up drunk.”

“Real estate agent, what?” Ona questions

“Since the offer to sign here was so last minute, I am currently staying in a hotel until I can find an apartment to permanently live in.” You say.

One of your teammates puts her arm around Ona’s shoulder and says

“Just stay with Ona for now? You seem to get along, I think at least. Actually, I’m not sure now that I’m thinking about it, but Ona’s roommate just moved out to live with her boyfriend and she has a spare room.” She basically sings out thinking she just solved your problem.

“Absolutely not,” You say. “That’s a horrible idea,”

“What? Why not? That’s actually a good idea, rent is only $1,000 a month each for a two bedroom. I’ll even give you a discount, princesa” Ona says “I was thinking about putting up a “roommate wanted” sign, but I don’t think that’s needed anymore” Ona winks at you.

“Let me think about it,” You say

“Sure,” Ona says.

You go back to the hotel you are staying at and think about the arrangement Ona offered. Only $1,000 a month? That’s nothing. Every apartment in the area is at least $2,000 a month, and that’s for a studio-one bedroom. You decide to text Ona, hoping you still have her number from years ago and that it's still the same.

Me: Yes.

You wait hoping to hear from her soon. While you wait, you decide to shower. You think you probably should’ve been a little more descriptive than just “yes,” but you don’t care, it's fine.

After you shower you hear a ding come from your phone. You pick up your phone, it’s Ona. Your heart rate speeds up.

Ona: I was wondering when I’d hear from you, princesa.

You two talk about a move in date and the payment details and other things about the apartment that you two need to discuss.

Move-in day

You wake up at 9am, you are officially moving into Ona’s apartment today at 10am, you and Ona decided a time that would work for both of you guys. You hate that your only day off you had to wake up so early, but you’re grateful Ona is even letting you move in and is helping you move as well.

You pack up your bags, and since you moved and currently don’t have a car, Ona offered to pick you and your stuff up from the hotel, you happily took the offer.

You get a knock at your door and Ona is there.

“Wow” you say looking at the Apple Watch on your hand “I’m surprised you’re actually 4 minutes early, you must be excited. The one and only Ona Batlle is early for once.” You smile at her and she chuckles at your joke.

Ona helps you get your bags moved into her SUV. You sit in comfortable silence as she drives you downtown to her 2 bedroom apartment, well I guess you could say your guy’s apartment now.

Few hours later…

You are officially moved in. Since you didn’t come with much, just the few suitcases you brought on the plane with you, it only took maybe an hour or two to put all your stuff away. You decide to take a bath from being all sweaty from unpacking. Ona is gone and said she’d be back in a few hours. You turn on the faucet in the bathroom connected to your room and go back to your bed to read for a little bit while the bath fills up.

You wake up to yelling realizing then you fell asleep while reading. You look up at Ona yelling and wondering what she’s on about. You go to get up and your socks feel wet. You then realize you left the water on and your whole room is flooded. Fuck. You think to yourself. The first day you moved in and you flooded your room. Great…

“Ona, oh my god, I am so sorry, I fell asleep I don’t know what I was thinking.” You say “I- I’ll pay for the damage,” You begin to say.

Ona walks up to you and says

“Well this is great, this is only a two bedroom apartment and I don’t even know where you’ll sleep. Who do you even call for a flooding incident? Are there even people for that?” Ona says angrily and confused

“I’m not sure”

“Well it’s saturday, i’m not even sure if places like that are open on weekends, i’ll have to call around on Monday” Ona says “Buckle up, princess, looks like you’re sleeping with me for the next 2 days” she looks at you “minimum,” she continues.

You groan and start to try to apologize again, but Ona cuts you off quickly and says

“It’s fine, it was obviously an accident, don’t worry about it,” She smiles sadly at you.

It’s 1am and you’re trying so hard to stay awake to avoid having to lay with Ona because AWKWARD… But as it hits 1:30am you decide she’s probably sleeping so you’ll just sneak in there and go to sleep. Hoping not to wake her because that’s the last thing you need. She’s already being kind enough by letting you lay with her, you don’t want to wake her up in the process. As you crawl into her bed you close your eyes and immediately start to drift off. It’s been a long day, you think to yourself.

You wake up to feeling something on your stomach. You look at the clock and it reads 3:47am, damn you were barely asleep for 3 hours, damn you Ona. You look down and Ona’s hand is sprawled on your stomach, she begins to play with the drawstrings of your sweatpants you’re currently wearing.

“Ona, you’re sleeping, wake up.” You say

“Not sleeping,” You hear her say

You tense because you think why the fuck is she doing this? It feels too good to tell her to stop though, so you let her continue.

Ona begins to play with your waistband and whispers into your ear

“Can I”

You nod

She slowly creeps her hand into your sweatpants while her front is placed against your back.

“Turn over, sweet girl” She whispers into your ear.

You turn over and she begins to rub you through your underwear.

You moan because damn, Ona knows what she’s doing.

“You don’t know how long I've dreamed of hearing those sounds come from you.”

Your curiosity gets the best of you.

“How long?” You ask

“Since 6 years ago”

You gasp, she’s wanted you all this long? Why did she ghost you then? You think to yourself.

You pull her hands out of your pants and flip her so she’s on her back and you’re straddling her thighs.

You stare at her and Ona pulls you down and kisses you deeply, you moan into her mouth as she fucks your mouth with her tongue. You pull your mouth away from hers and she gasps as you start to kiss her neck sweetly. You begin to kiss down her body and when you get the bottom half of her body, you pull her pants and underwear down.

“Spread your legs for me,” You say

As she does, you put your mouth closer to her and begin to eat her out. She began to moan as you pull your mouth away and begin to finger her.

“Tell me,” You say

“Anything,” Ona says

“Why’d you ghost me all those years ago?” You say

“Anything but that, please.” She says

“Tell me, or I’ll stop.”

She keeps her mouth shut so you pull your fingers out of her and begin to get up.

“Wait no, I’ll tell you just don’t stop, please.” Ona says

You put your fingers back in her and she says

“It hurt too much”

“What do you mean?” You said

“You left me, I liked you so much and you just left, without a second thought.”

“Oh,” You say, feeling ashamed

“I liked you so much, I was going to tell you on my birthday, but left on the 6th, my birthday is on the 10th,” She frowns “You left 4 days before my birthday, you know how sad that made me” she huffs out

“I’m so sorry, I had no clue,” You say sitting there.

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” She says

She gets up and flips you so now she’s on top

“I know how you can make it up to me,”

“Yes, anything,” You say

“You can let me fuck you,” She smirks

You begin to smile

“Well, if you’re offering,” You say

“Oh I differently am,” Ona says

She goes to get the strap from the nightstand

You stare at her as she begin to put the harness around her

“Open up” she says

She sticks the strap into your mouth as you begin to suck it

“You like my cock, baby girl?” Ona says “You suck me so good, fuck I could get off just from watching you suck me”

You moan at that, practically begging her to touch you.

“You want me inside you?” Ona smirks

You pull your mouth off the strap

“Yes, please, Ona. Fuck me,” You say

“Spread your legs, just like that, a little wider, there you go, that’s my good girl” Ona says

You moan at her praises.

Ona crawls in between your legs and slips the strap inside you.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful, princesa,” Ona says while staring into your eyes.

“Fuck Ona keep going please” You begin to moan loudly.

You begin to feel yourself about to cum

“Ona, I’m so close, keep going. Don’t stop,”

Ona pulls out of you and you whine, but she immediately starts to eat you out. It feels so good, as good or maybe even better than the strap. Ona knows how to eat someone out, that’s for sure.

She stops eating you out and begins to finger you. While her fingers are still inside you, she comes up and kisses you breathlessly. As she kisses your neck, Ona whispers, only for you to hear.

“Cum for me, princesa,”

You cum. Hard. That was probably the hardest you’ve ever came, you think.

“God, we are so doing that again.” You say as Ona smiles down at you.

“Oh absolutely” Ona says while smiling and slowly kissing your neck.

“Ready for round 2? You say

Ona laughs and starts to crawl down your body

I’m not sure if i’ll make a part 2 on this, let me know if you guys want one! :)

ALSO, who else loves the Taylor Swift reference?😏

[dreamwritersworld]

The chore. (Sully family x reader)

hey! this is my first story so bear with me this is gonna be a slightly sad one 💕 also this does have scenes from shows i definitely was inspired by and used some of the situation to go based off of the story :)

Being the overlooked sibling was a difficult role to hold. Only time I was ever acknowledged was when I was constantly being yelled at and told what to do even if it wasn’t my fault. I am the twin of lo’ak but with his crazy antics it just makes it even harder to get the approval of my father.

I had to teach myself everything. Observing others actions and having to figure it out. Even with the sly compliments I’ve received, my parents just brushed it off. As you can imagine it only got worse when I got older but when Tuk came it was like a light was brought to me. I was always distant with my siblings no matter how hard I tried to just have a relationship with them they were so tight I couldn’t find any space for me to be included. Dad constantly held me at a higher role saying “y/n you need to be strong! what don’t you get? stop being so reckless and bringing your siblings into things.” Majority of the time I was yelled at for things that weren’t my fault, I just was caught in at the wrong time or blamed for not watching them. It all didn’t seem fair. It was not fair.

I notice how my parents treated me differently from my sisters and to say it didn’t hurt is a complete lie. It hurts all the time, constantly being put on the back burner hurts. Even Lo’ak and Neteyam got off easier than me. I don’t know why my father holds so much resentment to me or why he puts me to the side like I’m a stray but it wasn’t only him I’m silently mad at, it’s my mom too. Why? How could she sit there and witness it , not see it. I can’t even be fully upset I just must sit there and smile and just try better or as dad says “you need to start using your brain and do better, for THIS family!” I just wish I got the dad my sisters got. I wanted the dad who tended to me and my feelings instead of the dad who told me to suck it up saying it wasn’t ok to cry or show emotions.

Now thinking of it, the only time we talk or well when they talk to me is when they order me around or when dad yells at me. It’s become a daily thing that I take care of Tuk every since she was a baby it became my job. Not that I wouldn’t want to take care of my beautiful sunshine , it’s just keeps me tired sometimes but she’s the only one that truly knows me.

Today I actually have to go look over the war and observe from a far with my brothers but that’s in a couple of hours.

I decided to take a break from practicing and teaching Tuk new things for a quick game of hide n seek. This will only improve her quickness and alertness so it’ll help her. Only it’s been a while since I last saw her run in the forest so I whistled out for her, patiently waiting for her whistle back, something I taught her in order to hear that she’s ok! When I did hear a whistle I looked down and quietly went into the bush to catch her. “THE TICKLE MONSTER IS HERE!” Hearing her sweet giggle kept me strong. I need to keep her safe and it was getting harder to be around when she ran off with our other siblings getting into trouble. It was coming near the time to head with the war party so I hopped on my Ikran and flew to where I had to meet my brothers. We WERE spotting until Lo’ak decided to stupidly go down. Neteyam and I quickly went down for him with zero hesitation and tried to get him to get out. “Lo’ak cmon this isn’t funny I’m not kidding. we have to go. you don’t know what your doin-“ I said trying to stop my brother from doing anything more reckless, that was until we got hit.

All I could hear was ringing , trying to gasp for more air feeling blood rush down my body. I slowly opened my eyes seeing my dad take the boys and hearing Lo’ak “Dad! Dad y/n was with us! We have to get y/n!” He’s leaving. He’s leaving me. Knowing I’m down here. “She shouldn’t have been down there either. She’ll find a way home. We have to go.” In that entire moment my heart shatters. I wanted to just give up right then and there, everything that I’ve feared being true, that he didn’t give a single shit about me. I looked down to my side having a slight gash and my arm having a even larger gash. As I was escaping I can feel everything burn and my entire body fighting to even stay awake until I wasn’t. I decided to just take a break before I’d fall off my Ikran from exhaustion. Once I woke up it was already eclipse so I made my way to the healing tent and decided to just stitch myself up in order to avoid the trouble of pulling anyone out or getting more in trouble.

I never did this before. I mean I have observed and learned from a far since no one wants to teach me but stitching is new. Yelping in pain every once and awhile the needle pierced through my skin but once I was done I was only fueled by anger. So much pent up anger I didn’t even know I let go on for that long, just sitting in the silence trying to calm myself down before having to be yelled at once again for something I tried to fix not even that just that but, for not coming home before eclipse even when my own father left me in pain when I needed him. Actually considering the thought of leaving the forest and finally finding a place I can call home. I had already planned an emergency bag…this isn’t the first time I have had these thoughts, but this might actually be my last straw. Only reason why I didn’t leave was because of my baby sister. My thoughts were soon interrupted.

“Y/n you were ordered to SPOT. LOOK AT THE MESS YOU MADE-“ For a moment, for a slight moment. I actually was gonna take all the hits he sent my way but my anger, frustration towards him. towards his voice. towards his stupid orders. towards everything about him. “I’m. Still. Not. Home. I was injured and YOU left me out there to die.” silence was the only thing there as I stared at my parents resisting ever urge to cry tears of anger something I got used to as a kid being told crying was a weakness and it wasn’t ok if I cried, it wasn’t normal. “I-I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t see you, I-I-“ now hearing the ashamed feeling in my dad’s voice, but I didn’t feel bad because I KNOW he saw me bloody lying on the floor. I KNOW he had enough time. I KNOW he didn’t hesitate to leave me. And I KNOW he’s gonna deny it.

“HOW?! I heard it all dad. I heard Lo’ak calling for you to come back for me. I saw you look at me and you were completely fine in leaving me. You’re a liar and a shitty fucking dad….why tf would you leave me?…You are fucking dead to me.” Hearing my mom cut in “y/n no you don’t mean that!” I looked at her smiled and looked back at my dad “I mean every.fucking.word. You’re dead to me “Dad”. You know I have a lot of regrets…in my life but I gotta tell you Dad being your daughter is at the top of my list.” I took a moment to finally see his emotions…he was crying… to this I scoffed and laughed. “oh now you want to cry? yea you’re just draining. You just like going around to suck the spirit out of everyone.”

I try to stop myself , I try to hold back but the more I do the more bottled up feelings come out “no no y/n i see y-“ anger erupts even more “no don’t say that! Stop saying that! You drained me. And it fucking hurts dad. You. Don’t. Love. Me. You left me. When I needed you! And a real father someone who cares would never throw me to the side the way you did…you always had your favorites. You always blamed ME. It didn’t matter if I was there or not I was the one to blame. You don’t even know anything about me. You don’t care about me. You do not love me.” Tears fall. tears that I didn’t even know I had. So I laugh at them. I witness the regret and guilt rush to my parents head realizing how they truly forgot they even had y/n as a daughter instead of just a baby sitter or someone who just followed their orders. This was the moment they realized something inside their daughter was broken and it can never be fixed.

“I gave you all. Every part of me, I have given to you. Hoping that one day you’d open your arms to me and until that moment I held a patient smile. I know now that, the idea I dreamed of will never happen. Even when I would TRY talking to you, all your ever did was push me away. So while I did everything you asked of me and more. You considered me the chore, the job you didn’t want to do. Don’t worry now, I do not want your excuses because up until you left me to die, you WERE my everything.”

I walked out but not without noticing my siblings on the side I could see the realization hit their faces, realizing that they too forgot they had a sister. The sister that took care of Tuk, handled everything she was dealt with, and more importantly the sibling they also pushed away, the sister they didn’t even want to hear stories about when Tuk was talking. Then I see Tuk my sunshine, I smile taking in her baby face one last time.

Then I rush to “home” to get my bag that I packed, I’ve been waiting for this very moment, just waited for the bandaid to rip. I hoped that a moment like this would never occur, something in my heart broke knowing that it didn’t matter anymore it was bound to happen. I called for my Ikran, crying my eyes out realizing this was really it, and that I would have to tear away from all I knew in order to finally grow and be happy. That was until I felt a tug on my leg stopping me from getting on my Ikran. Tuk. “please y/n don’t leave. Don’t leave me. You have taught me everything please y/n don’t leave home. Or just take me with you.” My heart breaks all over again looking at the child that I practically raised even if she always returned to my parents arms at night or held by them in the evening. She’s the only thing that held me here, my baby sister, my sunshine. “Tuk I see you sister but, I can’t take you with me, I can’t let you leave your home.” I can only hear her heart shatter even more. “No sister. you will take me. your all I need right now. It’s always been us please. I won’t do anything without you.” I look back and forth contemplated for a little and then…agreed. I held her close and wrapped a blanket around her, preparing for the ride.

Again this is my first story so please be understanding! :) hope you enjoyed it 💕

[heartbeat-eras]

Just a little exercise.. right?

TLDR - I’m newly on meds and my heart. Well she doesn’t seem to like them. I did three rounds of 20 squats. After trying to get her to calm down (spoliers she didn’t) I laid down. This caused an immediate extreme drop. I then did a push which brought her into the 60s. I don’t think she threw any pvcs but you be the judge.

————————

If you saw my intro post you would know that I’ve recently been prescribed dexadrine. Dexadrine is an amphetamine that can raise blood pressure and heart rate. In my other post I thought it was high time I tested my Heart’s response to these meds. I know she’s been a lot more poundy and faster than normal but.. I thought I would do some of my own tests.

Firstly was tracking her all night with a chest strap monitor. I followed this up with taking my meds before getting out of bed and waiting for them to kick in. The result was exactly in the small range they said it should be. So my faster rate is clearly the meds and my heart working against gravity.

I’ve been looking into if exercising on meds is safe. There are split opinions if you should do it after / before or if you can do it while medication is in your system. I decided to try a small run. Let me preface this with a couple of years ago I was a runner. My heart always was reactive and fast to exercise but not like what happened here.

So imagine. I’ve put on my workout gear. Taped my Stemoscope to the loudest part of chest and go into the room with the treadmill. I set up my chest strap monitor with the treadmill. Perfect.. she’s beating at 142 and I haven’t done anything. I start the Stemoscope recording. 2 mins standing with her pounding away - not yet exercising. Ok this is gonna be fun. At 2 mins jump on at a brisk walk. She immediately drops to 113 - no there’s not wrong with the monitor. I can hear her. Then she slowly climbs. 117, 124, 131 and back to 142 and beyond. Within 1 1/2 mins we’re at 156. I’m not tired or out of breath but I also know I probably shouldn’t do this for long so I think- ok let’s try max her out. I break into a jog. Nothing like I used to, but a slow recovery run. She’s climbing and fast. Within a short space of time she’s now in the beating at 182 - I usually couldn’t feel beats like this before but I can feel her rocking my chest. I’m oddly out of breath for something I used to be able to sustain for over an hour. I jump off and bend over, trying to catch my breath. My heart thrashing in both my chest and my ears. My head spinning as I try to get her oxygen. I’m watching the number on the treadmill with the little heart next it. It’s not going down. It’s going up. At 187 she peaks and is pounding away. This is 2 mins after ceasing activity. She drop quite quickly.. not this time I guess.

I grab my gear and go back to my room. She’s settled a little bit. She keeps calming down then speeding back up. Down to 151 then up to 176. She’s all over the place like she doesn’t know what she’s meant to do.

Well that’s enough. I need to take some stress off her. I lay down, resulting in an immediate drastic drop to around 100. Finally. The break she needed. I go back to the recording… and we’ll I deleted in my zoned out state.

So this time I’ve recorded some squats. I was only able to get her into the 170s but you can hear just how unconditioned she sounds. This was not what she like pre meds and I will be asking my doctor about this when I see him next (well maybe leave out the constant stething). A part of me is slightly worried about this, whereas another part of me is like…. Oooo well. That’s a fun sound . Damn cardiophile thoughts right?

I hope you enjoy her first try (tech second) at exercise. She would love to hear your thoughts and support. She’s literally pounding in my ears as I share her with you.

[thrashkink-coven]

Besties listen to me. Ok. Please hear me out. I am not a gatekeeper. We don’t gatekeep around here. Gatekeeping is hate keeping okay. You can get into the craft at any age regardless of your abilities etc etc. Elitism in occultism and spirituality is stupid ok.

BUT!!!

This is just a friendly reminder and fair warning ? (not warning because this isn’t scary) this is a message.

You don’t have to devote yourself to a deity if you don’t want to. Like, you’re allowed to just revere a deity without becoming a devotee.

Devotion is pretty intensely binding and long term.

There are many deities that I have worked with, or even worship(ped), who I am not a devotee of like Dionysus or Lilith, Azazel. Even with a deity like Horus, who I absolutely love and revere and even set altar space aside for, I wouldn’t say I’m a devotee of Horus because we haven’t taken vows or established a contract. I just… love them. and that’s p much it and that’s okay!

Im not devoted to Anubis or even Hecate (YET) because I haven’t put in that fucking work with them as I have with Lucifer or Aphrodite, and that’s okay too. It takes quite a long time. That’s the exact reason why I haven’t devoted myself to Hecate yet, I haven’t nearly gotten to the level of familiarity with her to do something THAT binding, it’s like a sort of marriage.

And likewise, I am still in the process of initiation with Leviathan, we’re taking it slow. I’m technically not even fully devoted to Hermes yet either.

You guys have seen my altar, I spend a significant part of my daily life working with and worshipping Lucifer because he’s my Patron. I don’t “have to” but I do pray and write to him every day. I make offerings to him every day, I wear his talismans, I think about him every day. More than any other deity that I work with, because I’m his, by vow. Not every deity that I am devoted to is always around me, but my Patron is. If not in spirit than in my prayers and heart.

Now this isn’t to say you have to have a big extravagant altar or spend a ton of time constantly worshipping a deity to be a valid devotee, we all decide what level of involvement we want to have. But do be warned, especially if it’s your first time, many deities do take it very seriously. Betraying that level of trust is not something I would advise.

You don’t have to be that involved with a deity if you don’t want to or you’re just not ready yet.

Kids, children, I’m talking to you, MINORS,

Again, no gatekeeping we don’t gate keep, HOWEVER. Be informed.

If you wouldn’t feel comfortable getting a Lucifer tattoo (or something of an equivalent permanence because not everyone likes the idea of body modification, you know what I’m trying to say) you might want to just wait until you’re a little taller, older and wiser to make the decision to devote yourself to him. Of course there are those of us that don’t care about permanence and want to cover our entire bodies with ink before we’re 25, in which case, do as thow wilt. I’m talking to minors specifically right now though, because I know that I would not have been aware and mature enough to devote myself to Lucifer in my teens. Maybe I was a dumb teenager, but the idea of a child being devoted to a deity gives me a similar feeling to how I feel when I see child marriage. It’s not the same, but it somehow kinda is. Just! be smart with your soul.

You’re still fully welcome and encouraged to honour and work with your deities, remember that there was never any rule that said you had to make contracts and whatnot to work with a deity. Make whatever altars you want. However, if you are making the decision to be patroned or devoted to a deity, you better be damn confident in that decision.

A prayer to Lucifer from me typically has verses along the lines of “I invite you into my body, mind and soul, I forever devote myself to you, you are eternal in my heart” etc, because I’m his devotee. I feel very safe saying that, those words bring me comfort. This isn’t to say I’m not allowed to grow or change my mind, but at least as of right now, I’m in it for the long haul baby. If you’re not at the place where you feel comfortable saying that to your deity yet, don’t force it, don’t fight it, that’s when things start going wrong.

You are more than allowed to just adore the fuck out of a deity without being devoted to them. I still work with Azazel and Hecate and other entities, I simply do not have the time (or energy) in my life to be devoted to so many deities at once. I’ve only ever given blood to one deity, and that’s my Patron.

I’m Lucifer’s bitch, I think I always will be. If you are lucky enough to be favoured by a God that you love that much then that’s awesome, but not being a devotee doesn’t mean you aren’t loved or just as important to your God. Be chill, go with the flow, and everything will be fine.

💋

[bettysupremacy]

Hi! How are you? I hope everything is well :) I saw that your requests open and I wanted to request a James Potter fic where the reader is a bit insecure when it comes to romantic stuff because she has never dated anyone so when James and the reader start dating she gets really shy about everything and James helps her feel comfortable with all of it maybe? I hope you like the idea! Thanks in advance :)

hey babe! thank you for the request I hope you like how it turned out

James stands in the bathroom, sink running, caps clicking. The sight and sound is a kind of domestic you’ve never felt before. This freaks you out.

“You wanna pick a movie, dovey?” It’s warped and bubbly from a mouthful of toothpaste, but you understand.

When he’d asked you to spent the night you hadn’t realized the intense bellyache of anxiety you’d get sitting in his bed, in his shirt, in his socks, waiting for him to be finished in the bathroom. If you had, you would’ve backed out.

You’re fingers fumble through his dark blue comforter. His room is so him, it’s a little suffocating. The remotes not here. Blue comforter, tee shirt thrown over his bed, circle framed glasses on a nightstand. His bedside table catches your eye. It’s in there.

You simply cannot open that drawer. You’re already suffocating in the intimacy of his room, you can’t also fall into the depths of his most personal drawer. He notices, wiping his mouth and jogging to the bed.

“Sorry.” He swiftly opens the drawer and tosses you the remote. It lands in your lap with the cushion of his blanket. “You ok?”

“I’ve never done this before.” You frown embarrassed.

“Slept over at my flat?” He breathes out, suppressing a smile. ”God, I hope you haven’t done that. D’be a bit weird, bug.”

You breathe a laugh but it comes out wonky. He frowns. “What’re you worried about?”

“I don’t know.” You whisper. His hands grab yours, thumbs working into your skin.

“Y’don’t gotta be nervous.” He smiles. “We’re just watching a movie is all.”

“And sleeping.” You add. “In the same bed.”

“Sleeping is what you’re worried about?” He teases. “You’ll be unconscious, I think that’s the least of your worries.”

You smile, genuine smile, this makes james proud. “What if I hog the blanket?”

“As long as you’re warm.”

“Stop.”

“What!” He laughs. “As long as my baby’s warm I’m content.”

You shake your head. “What If get too close? I’ve never shared a bed.”

“Baby, if you think that’s a problem..”

“I’m serious.” You give weakly.

“I’m serious! If you mind your personal space I won’t mind mine.”

The stare is silent but the smile on his face has you fighting off your own. He takes his hands back, bringing them up to your face. Rubbing the rough surface of his rugby palms over your cheeks, you lean into the touch.

“Seriously, baby,” he murmurs, “don’t fret it.”

You nod. Letting him take in your face.

Slowly, very slowly, he pushes you back. You almost don’t notice but the way his hands come down to your shoulders brings nerves back into your belly.

“I like when you’re in my personal space.”

He lays on you like a weighted blanket. Though, you can’t feel a weighted blanket breathe. Head in the spongy pillows, your fingers come up and tangle in his curls.

“This is nice.” You mutter.

“See?” You can feel him sigh. “Don’t let anxiety eat you.”

“Okay.”

“There’s nothing to be anxious over, you’re safe.”

“I know.” You mumble again.

He looks up at you. “You getting tired? Should we skip the movie?”

“No, put it on.” Your head shakes as much as it Can laying down. “I won’t fall asleep.”

“You liar!” He affably laughs. He can feel your giggles against his chest. “Can I at least get a kiss before we start the movie and you don’t fall asleep?”

“Mhm.”

The kiss he plants to your lips is warm and sturdy. He sits there for a second, too long to be chaste, to quick to be deep. When he pulls back you’re smiling.

“Y’ready?” He pushes some hair from your face. “You pick a movie?”

“No.”

He groans loudly, dropping back down on you. “What would you do without me?”

[formereldestdaughter]

ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

[sensei-venus]

Gym Class Hero (1/2)

(Alpha!Johnny/Omega!Fem!Reader/Alpha!Daniel)

(a/o/b Themes, Mentioned Acts of Volence, Scenting/Scent Play, F Receiving Oral, Cum Play, Semi Public sex, Public Sex, Creampie kink, Breeding kink, M/F/M & M/M, Soft Johnny?)

(Not fine edited, we die like that illegal crane kick-)

When she got off the bus age headed right to her locker to put her stuff away. She was even happier to find Daniel waiting for her at the said locker. The past few months had been blissful. She had always thought Daniel LaRusso was cute from the minute she laid eyes on him in the school cafeteria. He wasn't like the other alphas she had met and that made her heart beat a little faster. He wasn't built, not like the more physically active alphas around the school, like the meathead jocks or just random groups of alphas that mauled around the school. He was lanky with a bit of muscle underneath, he was built for speed.

She couldn’t help but smile at him as she opened her locker and shoved her bag into the small space. Closing it she smiled up at the lanky alpha who leaning against the locker next to hers. His own bag was slung over one of his shoulders. His voice was snarky saying “How’s your morning going Doll? You look like you’re in a good mood.” She rolled her eyes at him saying “It’s been great, I woke up early, did my hair, and got breakfast. And get this, I actually got to the bus stop before the bus for once’s!” He looked mildly pleased with her statement. He quickly stood up and ushered her towards one of the other hallways. The two of them walked side by side as they maneuvered through the crowded hallway. Daniel wrapped an arm over her shoulder as he helped her get passed the crowd of students and into a less crowded area. Once they had some actual space, and more privacy, Daniel pulled her off to the side of the hall.

He pressed a little closer to her, his chest to hers, one of his legs brushing in between hers. He smiled down at her, his brown eyes drilling into hers. A split moment later he was dunking his head down into her neck and scenting her. She shivered as his hot breath meet the soft skin of her neck, brushing over her scent gland. She had to stop herself from making a sound as he started to rub against her. Scenting was a completely normal thing, it was natural to scent others, but Daniel never failed to make her red in the face when he started scenting her. She tried her best to scent him back as well. It was a pleasant feeling. She loved being wrapped up in Daniel’s arms, and the way his scent covered her like a blanket made her feel warm and safe. Daniel always smelled like smokey vanilla, more musky and deep than sweet. Just thinking about it made her head spin.

The two slowly pulled away from each other and just stood together in the hallway.

Everything was fine until she felt a stinging sensation in her stomach. For a moment she just subtly rubbed at her belly, trying to make the weird pain go away. It was gone within seconds. Daniel raised a brow at her actions saying “You ok?” She nodded saying “I’m fine! Probably just eat too fast or something at breakfast. I’ll be fine!” She grinned at him. The sound of the first bell made the both of them jump. Daniel rolled his eyes at the annoying sound of the new wave of students that swarmed the once-empty hall. Reader just patted his arm as the two of them quickly tried to usher their way through the crowd.

Things only got worse as the familiar laughter of the cobra gang filled the hallway. Their laughter echoed against the walls. After the all-valley tournament, the cobras hadn’t messed with Daniel too much. They will snicker and laugh in his direction when passing or in class, but they no longer went out of their way to mess with him. The physical assault’s stopped as well and they stopped trying to corner him when they had the chance. Reader wasn’t scared of the cobras, not at all, most of them were just hot-headed alphas. Bobby Brown was nice enough and never bothered her, the Jimmy guy never said much, and Tommy had the laugh of a hyena cackling and laughed at just about everything. Dutch was a hot head that irritated her, he talked even more than Johnny and always had comments that made her blood boil.

Johnny was the one that she was unsure of, and it didn’t help that even the thought of him made her stomach turn again, or maybe it was the new sharp stab of pain that ran through her belly.

She didn’t like the way Johnny smelled, the way it made her heart flutter just as much as Daniel’s scent did. When she first told Daniel about her weird and strange feelings, he was taken aback for a moment. His eyes filled with a bit of jealousy and maybe even a bit of betrayal. She felt horrible about it, she wanted Daniel, not Johnny. She wanted to hate herself for the stupid biological feelings she was experiencing for Johnny. Johnny was a jerk in her eyes, she didn’t even know him that well. The two of them only talked a few times during classes they shared, the ones that Johnny didn’t try and skip. The day that Daniel came to her and said it was ok, that he wasn’t mad about the feelings she was experiencing for Johnny, was the best day of her life. After a long talk, the two of them agreed they loved each other and it was better that they both talk about their feelings, including any feelings toward others. He admitted that maybe he was ok with the idea of Johnny. He was still trying to get over the trauma he faced at the hands of Johnny and his friends, but he could push it off for Reader.

Reader didn’t have time to continue her thoughts on the blond, the pain in her stomach was there again but much worse. She felt like a hot poker was going through her lower gut. She bit the inside of her cheek as she held onto Daniel’s arm. The sound of Johnny and the other boys grew closer until they passed them. She only caught a glimpse of the blue-eyed alpha as they passed. His blond hair was pushed to the side as he looked their way. For a split moment, both Reader and Daniel glanced back at him, all three of their eyes meeting at some point.

It was over before it even started.

Daniel pulled her attention back as he wrapped an arm around her and started to push her down the hall, leaving the blond to watch after them, his own pack pulling him the opposite way.

Daniel’s eyes softened as he chewed on his bottom lip, the two standing in front of Readers first class of the day. He kissed her cheek before saying “Are you sure you're ok? Your scent smells weird, do you think you're getting sick or something? Do you want me to take you home?” reader rubbed at her arm but gave a half smile back saying “Daniel I will be fine, I promise I'll be better by lunchtime. I probably just need to relax. I'll see you later ok? I'll see you at PE if I don't find you at lunch.” Daniel huffed but nodded before watching the omega walk into their class. The bell rang a minute later making him sigh and jog toward his own class. He hoped he wouldn't be too late.

Reader started to regret her decision on telling Daniel not to worry, she should have taken up his offer to take her home. The stomach pain only got worse throughout the class. The pain slowly grew into full-on cramps. Her lower belly felt like it was twisting up. By third period she felt like she was going to puke her guts up. It was hot and uncomfortable. When lunchtime finally came around she wanted to die. She couldn't find Daniel, she felt like crap, and she didn't want to eat.

She sat like that for a while until the clank of something being set on the table made her lift her head to look up. The scent that filled her nose already told her who it was. She raised a brow as the smell of ashy smoke and tart cherry raided her nostrils. For a moment her stomach stopped hurting. Looking up she meets the crystal blue eyes of Johnny Lawrence. For once his blond locks didn’t cover his eyes and the familiar asshole smirk wasn’t plastered on his lips. His scent grew thicker by the minute.

“Eat the pie, you smell like you're going to cry and puke any minute now. Your scent is pumping out like a fucking faucet.”

For a split second, it almost smelt like he was trying to put out a comforting scent to blanket her, in an attempt to calm her nerves.

He was gone within a minute, back to his own table where the cobra’s sat. Tommy was laughing at something and Dutch patted Johnny on the back as he sat back down with his pack. His eyes only glanced back over to her once before going back to his friends.

Looking back at her own table Reader found a single small plate right in front of her. A slice of blueberry pie sat on the plate with a plastic fork. Looking at it with big eyes, she slowly took the fork from the plate and scooped up a portion of the small pie. The moment it hit her tongue she felt ten times better. It was cold. It made her hot belly that continued to cramp cool down. The sweetness made her sigh and her body go limp for a moment. Her body slumped a little on the table as she continued to eat the gifted pie until it was all gone. She used her fork to poke around at the crumbs on her plate until the bell rang. Three more periods and she could go home.

Her next class was PE and she felt lucky she even made it into the locker room in one piece. Her body ached and her head was starting to fog up. She wondered what she could have caught. Was it some kind of food poisoning? By the time she got her gym clothes on she could hardly think straight. Looking around the locker room she found it completely empty. How long had she been in here for? How long did it take her to change? She brushed it off and just headed out of the locker room in hopes of finding someone. Maybe they were out in the gym or out on the field already for soccer or something. Leaving the locker room she found the gym empty and quiet.

A wave of hot pain filled her core and made her face go red. That wasn’t the normal pain she had been having all day, it was new. It wasn’t just her lower stomach that hurt, her womb hurt. It was an unfamiliar feeling that made her want to ball up and hide. Her mind started to fog up even more and her mind was racing. Something in her told her to run, to go somewhere safe, somewhere she could hide. For a second she thought about going back to the locker room, it was safe. No, it wasn’t, anyone could come into the locker room. Her eyes caught sight of one of the old storage closets on the other side of the gym, off to the side next to one of the old meeting rooms the athletic department would use.

Before she could stop herself she was sprinting toward the room. Her brain was still foggy but she smiled at the fact that the door wasn’t locked when she pried the heavy metal door open. She slid into the room and flicked the light on, the giant light flickered overhead as it lit up the room. She quickly shut the door before sitting down. The cramps were coming in wave after wave making her ball up a little. She could feel tears pricking her eyes. Her skin started to feel hot and she knew she was sweating a little. Looking around she found a pile of old blankets from who knows to win. She dragged a few of them over and spread them out before settling down in the middle of the small pile she had made. A few minutes later she was on the verge of tears, she could feel her gym shorts being drenched, and she knew it was from slick pouring out of her hole.

She knew it was from her heat. She had never actually been through a full heat before. When she first presented it was due to a pre-heat coming on. Right after that, she started heat suppressants. She had never actually gone through a full heat before.

Was this what a full-fledged heat was like? Was she going to die? She never read a lot about heats before. If she got through this then she would definitely take the time to read up on it.

Because I’m that moment she felt like she truly was dying.

She couldn’t stop the whimper that left her chest, followed by a sob. She could feel the hot tears flowing down her flaming-hot cheeks. Every tear felt like acid. She squeezed her eyes shut as pain racked her body, she even tried cupping her pussy through her shorts but it did nothing to help with the pain. Slick covered her thighs and started to leak onto the blankets underneath her. The liquid didn’t seem to stop as it gushes out of her with every breath. Every time she let out a shaky breath she felt a new wave of slick fill her panties and shorts. Age couldn’t stop herself from kicking them off after a while, they were completely ruined. The light green fabric was stained, slick causing the material to go from a light forest green to an ugly dark green shade. She tossed them to the side as she tried to curl up into herself once again.

At that moment she didn’t even hear the sound of the metal door being opened and closed. Blue eyes blinked in the shadow of the dimly lit room. They were sharp as they scanned the room, eyes roaming over the half-naked omega that lay on the floor in a ball.

“J-Johnny?”

Her voice was weak as she lived her head towards the alpha. Her eyes were still filled with tears. They slowly lessen as she takes in Johnny’s scent, the warm comforting scent he was pumping out in the lunch room was back. The room was filled within seconds with his scent. It made the burn inside her lessen for a moment, her brain going clear. The blond moved closer and out of the shadows. His own cheeks were flushed against his pale skin. He was shaky as he moved to kneel next to her on the floor. His pupils when blown wide from the smell of her slick, the blue of his eyes slowly becoming hidden. He visibly sniffed at the clearly in pain omega.

His voice was deep “ I was going to skip class when I saw you limp into the locker room. Your scent has been bugging me all day, it's all weird and sweet. It made my stomach bubble all through lunch. I can't believe I was so stupid that I couldn't tell you were going into heat.” he snorted before saying “Clearly LaRusso didn't smell it either. He should have taken you home. That's what a good alpha would have done for their omega instead of leaving them to suffer, and wind up in a storage closet of all places.” at this point he was grinding his teeth. His eyes looked over her.

Reader smiled a little even in her uncomfortable state saying “He wanted to take me home when school started but I said no. I didn’t know my heat was starting, I just thought it was stomach pain. I’m on suppressants, Iv never even had a real heat before.” She hissed and closed her eyes as the pain returned. Johnny stopped himself from trying to move her head to rub at her scent gland.

“I should get someone. Maybe the nurse or something has some emergency suppressants or something, I don’t know how heats work. Can you even stop one?”

“No, once one fully starts you can’t stop it. I’m just going to have to ride it out. Shit, this fucking hurts. Johnny, can I die from this? Fuck Johnny, what if I die from some stupid heat because my stupid pills didn’t work. Johnny what the hell am I going to do-“ her freak out was cut short as Johnny shoved his face into her exposed neck. She chirped out as he rubbed against her sensitive scent gland, her bonding area being bathed in Johnny’s own scent. He moved over her shaking form, pressing his full body and weight onto her. Not in a weird way but in a comforting way, trying to get her to relax against his form. She quickly uncurled from her tight ball and relaxed against Johnny’s muscular body. His breath fanned over her cheek as he looked at her. Their eyes meet.

“Johnny, please touch me.”

“You are with LaRusso, you are his omega. He will literally kill me the minute he smells me on you. That little shit doesn’t scare me, but I respect him enough to not mess with his omega.”

“I promise he won’t be mad, he knows. Please, Johnny, knot me.”

Johnny couldn’t stop himself after hearing her pleas. His tongue lapped at her scent gland and moaned out against her flesh. The sound of her moans and whimper’s filled his ear the fast he moved. His jeans were tight and his shirt felt too hot and itchy at the moment. He hummed at her naked leg and smirked at the friction it caused his hard dick. He was quick to make work of his pants and boxers, throwing them outside the makeshift nest. His cock stood proud and hard, slapping against his abs.

He pulled away for a moment to look down at the Omega underneath him. Half-lidded eyes looked up at him, her pouty lips were soft and raw from biting them. He watched as she huffed and panted out. He watched as her lower belly twitched, the soft belly of an omega was something that made him hard as a rock. Soft hips jerked against him. His eyes lowered and he felt his dick twitch, he could feel the beads of pre spilling down his shaft. He had never smelled slick before in his whole life, it made his mouth water as he got a nose full of the scent. He was basically drowning in it.

He couldn’t stop himself from lowering himself down and stuffing his face into her thick thighs. Her pillow-like thighs were warm and covered in the thick liquid. He couldn’t help but nose at the soft flesh to get a better smell. He didn’t even notice when his hands pulled her leg’s apart and he stuffed his face right in between her legs. His nose bumped against her clit and he felt her clench around him. Hot breath fanned over her sopping pussy. Her folds were drenched in the syrupy fluid. It smelled like heaven between her legs and he couldn’t get enough of it. He felt he was going in slow motion with how foggy his brain was.

Slick flowed down his chin as he pressed deeper into her. He lapped at her lower lips and groaned. Reader whimpered as one of her hands shot down and gripped the blond's golden locks. Her eyes squeezed shut as the alpha worked her over with his mouth. His hot tongue finally found her twitching hole and plunged into her wet heat. All Johnny could hear was the sound of her moans and the wet lapping of his own tongue in her pussy. The faster he trusted his tongue inside, the more slick he drank up. It was thick and hot as it flowed into his mouth. Every gulp of slick made his stomach flutter. He could feel his knot starting to shift in his pants, he could feel the hard bundle of nerves on the base of his shaft start to swell.

One of his hands fell to his lap, rubbing himself roughly through the thick fabric. Stupid jeans. Within seconds he was annoyed with his jeans and made work of his belt and jeans. He grunted out as he pulled his boxers down and let his hard dick spring out, he could feel how it slapped his abs in his hunched-over position. He had long since lifted the omega by the lower body, pushing her legs over his shoulders and holding her pussy to his face. He jerked himself as he moaned into her throbbing pussy. Her toes curled along his back as he continued his assault on her cunt. He tried his best to lick up every drop of slick that flowed out from her hole. His tongue fucked into her faster and harder as he stroked himself. Dick throbbing in his hand, he squeezed at his growing knot.

He was so deep into his own lust that he didn't hear the door open or the sound of shoes squeaking across the hard floor.

He didn’t notice the figure behind him until he felt hot breath fanning over his neck and a tanned hand replacing his own on his dick. The hand stroked along his cock as another hand wrapped around his now swollen knot. A thumb ran over his slit making him moan once again into the wet pussy he had his face buried in. His hands gripped her thick highs as he continued to eat her out.

He didn’t care that the smell of LaRusso was permeating the room now. He didn’t even care that the punk was stroking his dick and sucking at his neck. His scent wasn’t horrible. He didn’t feel like punching him. God his hands were amazing though.

He was so far gone that he almost missed the way Reader locked her thighs around his head. The way she clamped down on his tongue had him growing. Before he knew what was happening she was shaking around him and a hot wave of slick filled his mouth and splashed against his chin. He felt the warm liquid run down his chin and neck. His chest heaved as he was overwhelmed by her scent and slick alone. Her legs and thighs went lax around his shoulders and head. She slumped back onto the floor, panting and shaking. Lowering her to the floor he sighed. He licked his lips of fluid and smirked down at the satisfied omega. Her eyes were half-lidded and wet with pleasure-filled tears.

“Come on Johnny why don't you put that pretty cock in her fat pussy? She's basically begging for your knot.”

LaRusso’s words were teasing to Johnny's ears as they both looked down at the omega.

A minute later LaRusso was yanking Johnny’s pants and boxers down. They pooled around his knees. For a split second, he realized how hard he actually was. His cock was weeping pre against his belly and his balls were tight. He could feel his swollen knot throb. He felt LaRusso move from behind him and scoot over to sit behind Reader. He helped to move her up into his lap, letting her lean back against him. She moaned as his hands moved to rub over her tits before they moved underneath her shirt. He felt her up for a moment before lifting her shirt up over her tits and pushing her bra up. Her boobs spilled out of the shirt. Her nipples pebbled up at the air and Daniel couldn’t help but play with them. His fingers pinching and pulling at them making Reader yelp. He stopped at looked at Johnny, his pupils blown.

He held up and lifted her legs back, making her fold in half. Her whole cunt was spread out, wet and glistening from her own juices and Johnny’s spit. Daniel’s fingers moved to spread the wetness because spreading her open. Her folds open leaving her hole twitching. Johnny looked at LaRusso one more time before taking his dick in hand and quickly guiding the head into the omegas pussy. He grunted and bottomed out, slipping in with no resistance. Reader moaned and her eyes fluttered at the feeling of being so full. Slick trickled from around his shaft.

His thrusts were deep and fast as he humped into the poor omega. His brain was foggy as all e could do was growl out with every thrust. Every time he thrust in he could feel her clench around him. Being inside her was like being in pure ecstasy. She was so warm and wet, it felt like he was being sucked in. Her hands gripped at his arms, her fingernails dug into the flesh of his arms leaving crescents. He grunted as her moans grew louder. Daniel could only watch and bit his lip as he watched his ex-rival fuck his girlfriend. He was getting more and more turned on by the minute. His eyes watched as her tits bounced and her belly jiggled every time Johnny pounded away. The sounds of wet flesh meet his ears and made him even harder.

He played with her tits as Johnny fucked her. His eyes glazed over as he looked down to watch how Johnny’s dick moved in and out of her. His eyes narrowed as he watched Johnny’s already large knot swell even more. He watched as it started to catch along the rim of her pussy. His thrusts grew harder and shorter. Daniel knew the blond alpha was getting close to busting.

“Just knot her already man, we know you want to.”

“Johnny, please! Please knot me, make me cum! I want to cum!”

Johnny couldn’t stop the way his knot finally swelled completely and in one thrust he was completely locked inside. She squeezed under him and he could feel the way she milked him. Her walls clenched and he could feel her soaking him with cum and slick. She thrashed around for a minute or two before settling down into a heap. Johnny kissed her damp skin and full tits. He could feel his hot pants as he nosed at her skin.

He closed his eyes for a while as they all just lay there in silence. He felt hands work over his head, fingers guiding through his blond locks. Fingertips traced over the bridge of his nose and along his cheekbones. Somehow he knew that the fingers that ghosted over his chin were Daniel’s, they were a little too rough, a little too hard to be Readers. The whimper that left his lips where soft as he settled into the rhythm of Reader’s breathing. The way her breasts moved up and down with every gasp of air.

They sat there for what felt like hours but he knew it was only minutes. The ease of the moment was gone when rough hands ran up the skin of his stomach. Daniel moved from behind the now pleased omega to behind Johnny once again. His rough hands moved to massage at his pecks, thumbs tracing over his nips and making them hard and pebbled under his shirt. He could feel himself twitch inside the omega under him, a thick load of cum filling her. Daniel nosed at his neck for a minute. Ghosting over his scent gland. Johnny couldn’t stop the moan that left his chest as the soft pad of Daniel’s tongue slid across the sensitive flesh. He didn’t have the energy to stop him. And honestly, he could say he didn’t care either.

One hand even dared to travel down his abs and through his wire-like pubic hair, brushing over his blond happy trail and down to where he was still connected to the omega. Fingers brushed over the connecting flesh. Johnny’s eyes flutter open as he moved to cup his hand over the tan one.

Daniel’s voice was low, something Johnny had never heard before. He was always so high-pitched. Never once had the smaller alpha made the effort to deepen his voice around the blond. This was something completely new and he didn’t know why he liked it so much.

“How about we make a deal, you can fuck my little omega here all you want. Knot her cunt all you want, then we can switch, and take turns like real alphas do when they want the same omega. Maybe one day you fuck me too, for fun. And maybe just maybe I get to fuck your tight ass one day too.”

Johnny wanted to grit his teeth, maybe even whip around and bite the other alpha's head off. But he couldn’t find the energy too. Something in his bones went lax at the other alphas' words. Maybe he wanted that.

His knot throbbed as he snorted back.

“Sounds like a good plan LaRusso. Maybe you are not as stupid as you look.”

[nearest-dearest]

Ayoo ok so, hear me out

How about Wally with a s/o whos vision is getting progressively worse and they end up getting glasses? Since hes a puppet i suppose he can be confused about how do our eyes work n all

Coming right up Anon! :D

One of the best things about visiting the big city you used to call home is that your local optometrist is still there. Thanks to that, Dr. Iris managed to measure the perfect glasses for you. Now you can see well, making the train back home much more enjoyable, since you can see the scenery outside the window clear as day, even at night. You wonder how the neighborhood is going to react seeing that you now have glasses. It’s going to take time to get used to having a new weight on the bridge of your nose, but you can manage that.

You just wish Julie and Barnaby won’t tackle you when they see you. Wouldn’t want to get your glasses broken when you just got them. You didn’t have to wait long though because the train stop to home is coming closer. And when the train stopped, that’s when you took your cue to stand up, get off and walk all the way to the neighborhood.

“Neighbor!”

“Julie! Barnaby! NO!” You braced yourself, waiting for your body to hit the ground from the weight of their hug, but it never came. And when you looked at why is that. You saw Frank holding Julie back and Eddie keeping Barnaby still in his spot. So not only can the mail man lift anything, but he’s also strong enough to stop anything!

“Now Julie! I know you’re excited, but you must give our neighbor their space. They had a long journey.” Frank scolded like an older brother would do to their misbehaving sister.

“I know that, Frank! But I can’t help it! Neighbor has been gone for three whole days and I just want to see if they’re okay!”

That gave you a little laugh “Thanks Julie, but I’m okay. The doctor just said I needed some glasses.”

“Glasses?” All four of your neighbors say at the same time before walking up to you to see your new glasses.

“Now how would you need that little fella?” Barnaby asks.

“I—”

“Hi Julie, Hi Barnaby, Hi Frank, Hi Eddie. What are you all—” A fifth puppet joins the scene.

“Wally! Look! neighbor’s back! And she’s got glasses now!” Barnaby announced.

“Glasses? What are those?” Wally asks.

“We’ll find out soon Wally. If our neighbor is feeling up for it.” Frank says, being the ever-considerate puppet that he is.

“It’s fine Frank, I can explain to you what this is.”

Julie suddenly gasps “Wait! So even FRANK doesn’t know what it is?”

Frank sputters and huffed “How would I know? I’ve never encountered them before!”

“That’s because it’s a human thing.” You said, and with that simple statement, everything clicked for everyone. You explained further “Whenever our eyesight is getting blurry, we need to wear glasses to see clearer.”

“Oh! I get it now!” Eddie says, but then concern laced his face at a thought “Wait, does that mean you went to the big city blind?”

Everyone gasped at the thought, but you were quick to quell their worries “No no no no! I’m not fully blind, and the doctor said I’m near sighted, that means I can see things when they’re up close, but not when they’re far away.”

And with that, everyone calmed down again. Knowing that you were safe.

“Oh! Does that mean my sight will also become clearer with glasses on?”

“Wally, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Frank is right Wally, the doctors have to measure what glass to put in my glasses so I can see clearly. It really depends on how bad your sight is.”

“Why, whatever do you think caused this blurry vision of yours neighbor?” Barnaby brought up.

“It runs in my family, and I guess it’s about time my family genes caught up to me. But not to worry, I just need to keep my glasses on the entire time, only taking them off when I sleep.”

“Oh! That’s the most, I’m glad you’re okay neighbor. I was worried for the past few days.” Wally sighs. And for some reason, that made Barnaby chuckle, saying: “Wally buddy, you’re always worried about our neighbor here.”

“I can’t help it though, at least they’re okay. And that glasses made them look the absolute most.”

“Thanks Wally.” You gave a smile, a smile that Wally believed that it’s the absolute most.

Barnaby, Eddie, Julie and Frank can see it clearly. The two may be oblivious to the fact, but the rest of the neighborhood will wait for the day. Where you and Wally can tell each other that fact.

[yamamasjumpercables]

Campus Romance

College!Boy!Chris x College!Fem!Reader

Warnings: kissing and a little cuss word 🥤

a/n: I was thinking about the grumpy x sunshine trope while making this idk why🧎🏾‍♀️

Left leg bouncing anxiously, discarded papers by your laptop, half finished latte that was probably cold by now, notes all over your work space. You were clearly stressed. Your assigned lab partner couldn’t be here to help you with one of the biggest projects of the semester because, they had the flu. So your professor had the smart idea of assigning you a new partner, which just so happened to be the new kid. Chris Sturniolo. You didn’t know much about him. Only thing you knew was his name and he always had an upbeat attitude. He was put in your class exactly 3 weeks ago. So you didn’t know how working with him would be like. It’s safe to say you were more than nervous to work with him. As for Chris, he was excited, nervous and worried all at once. Chris has seen you on campus many times before, walking to your classes with your head phones on with your natural monotoned facial expression. You were his hallway crush. He’s seen you so many times, waiting for the right time to ask you out. Chris always took pictures of you walking, not in a creepy stalker way. He always sent the pictures of you to his friends, which followed with a simple sentence that properly expressed his feelings for you. Yet his friends would always respond with “ask her out and stop being a fucking creep”. The first day Chris walked in your class and spotted you, he did a whole victory dance in his head. Everyday when chris spotted you in the back of the class with your head down and headphones on, he was happy. That happiness ended up turning into confidence. Chris ended up becoming friends with some of the kids by the end of his first week in your class. But he still didn’t have the courage to talk to you.

You were currently writing some notes down, headphones on full blast until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You came face to face with a red face, out of breath Chris. “You’re 5 minutes early” You say going back to your notes. “I just wanted to get a head start on the project”. Chris says trying to catch his breath. You roll your eyes at him. “Sit down we have to get started” you say patting the seat next you, signaling him to sit down. Chris quickly obeyed, setting his backpack down taking out his notes and books. Once he was done he noticed that you were still writing down your notes. He took this time to admire your concentration face. Your hair was up and out of your way, allowing Chris to see your entire face. The setting sun brightens your eyes as you continue to write your notes down for the project. Chris was so mesmerized by you glowing in the evening sun. He didn’t even notice your eyes staring back at him in confusion. “You ok Chris, do I have something on my face?” You asked patting your face. “No, No you don’t you’re fine- Wait no I don’t mean your fine fine- We’ll you are fine, but not in a bad way”. Chris rambles. “You are so beautiful and when I look at you I feel like I’m dreaming”. Chris says playing with his orange bracelet on his right wrist. “That’s beautiful Chris, but we need to focus on this project”. You say making eye contact with the blue eyed boy. “Yea we should, I’m sorry for being so forward” Chris says disappointed. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me, we don’t really know each other anyway” Chris says playing with his bracelet. You laugh. “Who says I don’t like you back” you say looking up from your notes, crossing your arms and tilting your head to the right slightly with a confused face. “Well I just thought you know since I just came to your class-“ Chris is cut off by your lips on his. You grab the sleeve of his hoodie pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Once you pulled away you were met with a giddy red face Chris. “You ok Chris” You asked, laughing a bit. “Yea I’m fine, wait does that mean I can take you out on a date?” Chris asked excitedly. “Yes once we get an A on this project” you say pointing at the notes smiling. “Oh yea yea we should get started on that” Chris says looking back at his forgotten notes. “Kiss for motivation” Chris asks nudging your arm. You gave Chris a quick peck on the cheek. “Oh I wanted a kiss on the lips” Chris says playfully. “When we finish the project then I’ll kiss you on the lips” you say taking a sip of your latte. “Well let’s get started on this, sooner we finish sooner I get to kiss you again” Chris said as he started flipping through the pages of his note book. You laugh and push him playfully. You and Chris continue to work on the project together. Chris turned out to be a pretty good partner afterwards.

I hardly made anything for Chris so here is something for the Chris girls💆🏾‍♀️🤝🏾. Oh and should I start a tag list & a part 2 of this?

[halfmoondaze]

Jack is starting a serious relationship with y/n (only a couple months into their relationship) and knows very well she has trouble being in noisy, crowded places. She prefers spending time with only her and Jack no one else. She finally opens up and shows up to jacks house that’s filled with his friends. She gets super quiet and ends up in her own bubble not having the courage to speak to anyone. His friends end up saying mean things like “is she mute or something?” to Jack and starts pointing fingers at her, making fun of her thinking it’s a joke. Y/n at first tries to laugh along as well to try and get along with them but notices they’re taking about her. She feels bewildered and gets emotional. Jack tries to step in but y/n ends up going home without saying anything. Couple days have past Jack tries his hardest to reach out to reader about that night but she’s ignoring his calls, texts, etc. Maybe angst ending..? I’m sorry if this was too long I just want you to have something to work with😭

Sheltered

Y/N and Jack have been dating for a few months now, and their relationship was becoming serious. 

Despite being naturally shy and reserved, Y/N found it surprisingly easy to open up to Jack. She confided in him about her struggles with being in crowded and noisy places, which is something that always been challenging for her ever since she could remember. 

Jack was a perfect saint. He was incredibly understanding and supportive, and thanks to his patience and caring nature, he found a way to help her navigate her anxieties, while offering her a safe space in the midst of all the chaos, in little ways such as: having a movie night at least twice a week to be able to recharge, cooking or baking together, despite the fact that Jack was not the best cook. Or just cuddling while talking for hours while enjoying each other’s company. 

However, Jack being more extroverted, he would go out and have fun every now and then, but at the end of the day he would always go back home to Y/N. After all, she was his grounding force and he loved how he was able to find a balance through her. And given that they have a lot of mutual respect and love for one another, he would make sure that she never felt pressured to accompany him.

But one night, Jack was attending to this house party given that he was back home for a few days after promoting “White Men Can’t Jump” for the past months, and couldn’t wait to catch up with close friends. Y/N was happy for all of his achievements, and wanted to be there for him, which is why it came to a big surprise for Jack when she asked him if she could come along. 

“Really?” 

She just nodded. 

He smiled and sat with her in their living room couch. 

“Babe, you know you don’t have to go if you don’t feel comfortable, right?” 

“I know. I just thought it would be nice to be with you and all your friends, because I’m very proud of you” 

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. 

“Ok, but if you’re not feeling it and want to leave at any moment, you say the word and we’ll go home, ok?” 

“Ok” 

He kissed her. 

“Good” 

You hurried and put on a nice-looking short sundress and did your makeup, and in no time, you found yourself in the foyer ready to head out. 

“What’s up man” Jack greeted Shloob.

“Hey, what’s good?” he said.

“Yuh yuh yuh Jack is here” 

“Jackman” Nemo greeted him.

“Hey man” 

“How you doing” 

“I’m chilling” 

“This your girl?” 

“Yeah, this is Y/N” 

“Hey” 

“Hi” Y/N said avoiding eye contact as all eyes were on her. 

“Is she cool?” Shloob asked. “She mute or something?” Nemo asked. 

“Dude what the fuck?” Urban called him out. 

“My bad” Nemo said. 

“She’s just a little shy. Hey remember that one time-“ Jack attempted to change the subject but the conversation went back to Y/N.

“A little?!” Nemo burst laughing. 

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t think she would come” Shloob said

“Yeah I was starting to think that girlfriend of yours was imaginary” Nemo added. 

Everyone started laughing. 

Y/N could feel her anxiety rising as unconsciously was scratching her arms, which nobody noticed but Jack did. 

At some point, their voices became like background noise as she felt her anxiety building up and it was becoming unbearable so she excused herself and walked to the hallway that lead to the bathroom to escape the commotion. 

Jack gave Nemo a look. 

“What did I do?” 

He just walked away. 

After looking for her everywhere in the house, she eventually find her in the hallway upstairs, absorbed in her own world as she scrolled through her phone. 

He quietly walked to her as to not to startle her and stood next to her.

Upon noticing his prescence, she pulled her phone away and looked down awkwardly. 

“Sorry about that”

She gave him a forced smile and looked away. 

“It’s ok. They were probably joking” 

“That still doesn’t make it ok” 

Y/N shrugged. 

Jack offered her his hand. Y/n paused for a few seconds before taking his hand, and he pulled her closer into an embrace. 

Then Y/N hugged him back and relaxed into his arms. 

After a few seconds, they pulled away. 

“Can we go home?” 

“Of course” he said kissing the top of her head.

[ken-dom]

The Stars Look Very Different Today

∘₊✧ Ryland Grace solo fic

2.5k words

∘₊✧ Summary: The computer has a new command for Ryland — one he’s extremely relieved to carry out.

∘₊✧ Author’s notes: I’m barely half way through the book and I’m so in love with Ryland already. My god. Anyway this obviously got me into researching some of the hornier aspects of space travel, potentially unlocked a new kink along the way, and this is where I ended up. If you’re as curious as I am about the topic of this fic, you might enjoy this Vice article and also this Mauden article!

Title from Space Oddity by David Bowie, suggested by the wonderful @heresthestorymorningglory who encouraged me endlessly with this fic, as always!

∘₊✧ Warnings/content: NSFW, Project Hail Mary spoilers!, masturbation, if you squint it’s kinda Ryland x Computer — and it’s kinda forced masturbation but he definitely wants to do it so take it as you wish, premature ejaculation, written from Ryland’s POV in keeping with the novel, horny Ryland, mentions of porn, low key science kink, and my favourite tag ever: cumming in space! 🪐🛸💦

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

‘Ejaculate.’

The voice has become familiar to me over the last few days. Almost comforting at times, if not a little on the unsettling side. But hey, unsettling isn’t the worst thing a person can be, right? Or a computer, if we’re being technical. Which I suppose we should be.

I blink my eyes open, groggy from what I’m guessing was a relatively short period of sleep before I check the analogue clock on the wall to confirm it. I don’t think on it for too long, however, because my attention is pulled to the heat I can feel pooling in my gut, and the throbbing sensation in my… between my legs. It’s untimely, but expected.

I’ve found myself with this little problem upon waking up for the third time in a row, now. The previous times, I’ve ignored it, willed it away while trying to keep my mind on everything else I’m still adjusting to rather than wasting my time… enjoying myself a little too much. 

This time, though, it seems the ship knows and wants me to do something about it.

I obviously haven’t heard correctly. My inconveniently timed arousal must be playing on my mind. It has been a while since I… no, that’s irrelevant right now, I’m giving in but I need to focus.

Why would the computer instruct me to-

‘Ejaculate.’

There it is again, plain as day this time. Yup. The computer wants me to… ejaculate.

Despite being completely alone, lightyears away from another living human, I feel incredibly exposed all of a sudden.

I gradually sit up and look around the room, rubbing at my tired eyes, careful not to cause any friction that might exacerbate matters. One of the robot arms is waiting patiently at the other side of the small room, holding out a little plastic cup, which I presume I am supposed to deposit my offering into. And then, what? Give it back to put into safe storage? Or eject it out into space where it’ll crystallise and float forever as evidence of my deed, only for some alien to discover and analyse a hundred years from now and take back to his home planet with breaking news. ‘Sex seed found among the stars, Earth astronaut got too excited about space travel.’

Sex seed? Jeepers.

Maybe, more likely, they’ll keep it to repopulate in the event of this whole thing not working out, or-

Ok. Let me think this through a little more scientifically.

Why would I need to ejaculate right now? What’s different about this time to the previous times I’ve woken up with a raging erection straining against my uniform?

‘Ejaculate.’

‘Just give me a moment, please?’ I reply, irritable, and the computer does not answer. The robot arm remains, though, and I know I will be given no choice in this.

Is that ethical? 

Whatever. I don’t think I need to get caught up in the semantics of whether one can consent to a spacecraft computer asking for one’s semen, robot arms or not. And after all, in the words of the wise Beyoncé, I woke up like this.

So, back to the question. If it’s not for repopulation purposes, perhaps… ah! Of course! It’s for my own good! The computer is trying to make sure I stay healthy.

Masturbation has been proven to lower anxiety levels and stress. This is a high-pressure sort of situation after all. Maybe it thinks I need a little relaxation to be able to focus properly, or to keep my blood pressure levels well maintained?

That’s the stuff. I’m really getting the ball rolling now.

I remember a study I read, and realise that actually, the fact that it’s been a while is actually important here, too, and not just a distraction my body insists on.

Infrequent ejaculation can result in prostatitis, and the way to avoid the secretions and subsequent bacteria growth that cause the condition, is to ejaculate. Frequently.

The computer has either noticed my recent arousal levels; the higher heart rate, the dilated pupils, the change in blood flow to cause certain… swellings, and let’s face it, the scent of desperation I must be giving off after this long without an orgasm, and thinks I’m overdue an ejaculation or two… or, it’s programmed to encourage masturbation at set intervals with frequent ejaculation in mind as a necessary tool to health.

In honesty, I started to lose my erection when the first of all these thoughts occurred to me – nothing like a computer and a robot arm teaming up to persuade you to rub one out for them to kill the mood – but… mmh…

Listen, I know I can get a little… carried away with science, but I really am alone out here and I don’t think the computer is at all concerned with what gets me going. It just wants me to cum in a cup. I can do that. I think.

I retrieve the cup from the robot arm, which folds away, patiently waiting for me to return with the goods, no doubt.

‘Don’t look, okay?’ I say a little weakly, feeling my cheeks heat up. I know it’s a computer, but it knows things. Too much, almost, and I feel watched. I’ve never been into that, being watched. Nothing against it, but I much prefer to do this with my curtains closed and my doors locked, preferably in a darkened room, or the shower. Since I can’t be afforded these luxuries aboard the Hail Mary, the least I can ask for is the computer not to look.

It doesn’t answer me, of course. I didn’t really expect it to, but at least with whatever else it gathers about me, it’ll know I’m not enjoying it’s presence while I knock one out for it.

Who knows, maybe over time, we’ll get to know one another and the computer’s presence will be the only way I can jerk off. Maybe it’ll start talking me though it… would dirty talk be programmed incase of difficulty… getting into it?

I chuckle softly, knowing that liking the computer is a real possibility. Doll syndrome, it’s called. I’d start preferring the computer to a real living, breathing human. Or maybe there’s another syndrome specifically for the preference of a computer…

But I’m letting myself get distracted again.

Back to the matter at hand. Ha!

I sit back down on my bed, my erection pressed painfully against my uniform trousers now, as I consider the little plastic cup. By the look of it, it holds about 100mls. The average ejaculate is around 1.25-5mls, and from experience I tend to fall somewhere in the middle of that range, so it’s extremely unlikely I’ll fill it, but it really has been so long, the fleeting thought passes through my mind that it won’t be big enough.

Then my thoughts switch to how this is all so clinical and not at all sexy. I guess that’s another kink I might be missing out on, but before I can get carried away again, the robot arm drops something else down for me.

Oh. It’s a dirty magazine. The sort they keep on the top shelf, hidden behind more family friendly editions like House and Home or Celebrity Chat or whatever people read these days.

A pair of breasts almost knock me clean out as the magazine drops into view before me. The robot arm flicks through the thin, glossy pages and holds it open at a page of a woman with her legs spread, glistening folds displayed beautifully as if just for me.

But she’s not real. Looking at the image only reminds me that I’m alone, and whilst her aroused state and thoughts of how she might pleasure herself does make my cock twitch, my heart sinks a little that I’ll never feel another wet pussy.

‘No thank you,’ I choke out, slightly reluctant, and the robot arm switches to a magazine it was apparently holding behind the one with the pretty vagina photograph.

This one displays an image of a thick, handsome penis, uncut and leaking at the tip, fingers ghosting over the happy trail above…

‘No, that’s not the issue,’ I say, a little high pitched, because my cock is leaking now too, and I know I’m not going to make it to the cup if they keep showing me images like this.. ‘I just… I can manage on my own, thank you.’

Still, I feel a little disappointed when the robot arm takes that enticing cock away, too, and I’m left truly alone once again.

I let out a long breath, as even as I can muster. I need to get out of my head.

I close my eyes, breathing deeply. I focus on the ache between my legs. I think about taking my time, really enjoying the sensation of touching myself in space – and the thought that I’m actually in space, does it for me again. With an involuntary pulse of my cock, I feel a thick drop of pre-ejaculate form at the tip.

Take my time? Who am I kidding.

Clasping the cup securely in one hand, I slip the other over the crotch of my trousers and the strangled noise that escapes me would’ve been enough to wake the whole neighbourhood had I been back home on Earth.

I feel a rush of shame flood my senses, but then I remind myself that I can be as loud as I want here. In space, no one can hear you moan. I laugh again, feeling giddy. This is kind of exciting, actually. The thought that I’m alone is finally working for me, and without overthinking it any further, I tear open the fastening on my trousers and let my cock spring free.

I’m so hard it’s painful, visibly throbbing, angry red tip shining with pre-cum. Begging to be touched.

I realise as I stare down at my neglected equipment that words like cum and cock aren’t usually so easily thrown around in my vocabulary, and that I must be unusually horny – another word I tend to shy away from until the moment calls for it – to be thinking like this.

I bite my lips together, anticipating how it might feel.

I’ve never done this in space before. It must be ok to do it, otherwise the computer wouldn’t expect me to just get on with it, ‘reading’ material included, but what if it feels different? What if it hurts?

I tentatively raise a trembling hand and carefully drag a featherlight fingertip up the underside, base to tip, tracing a thick vein and collecting some pre-cum on the way.

I squirm, moaning loudly. I wonder if the computer has really shut its ears off, or if it’s simply programmed to know the difference between horny, desperate groaning and other types of sounds, like real pain or distress.

Whatever, I need more. Fuck.

I suck my finger clean and do it again. A gentle fingertip ghosting up the hot flesh and my body jolts upright.

I’m not gonna last more than a few seconds, and I know it.

It turns out that for whatever reason, touching yourself in space feels fucking incredible.

I lose track of most of my thoughts after that, feeling like I’ve transformed into some sort of rabid animal.

I slump backwards, spreading my legs, and my hand wraps around my shaft, immediately pumping furiously as a broken string of growls and roars rip from my throat.

I barely have time to remember the cup, but somewhere in the haze of unbridled bliss, my lizard brain must have kicked in at just the right moment because only instinct could have given me the sense to raise my other hand and position the cup to catch the insane amount of ejaculate I release as I writhe on the sheets.

Some of it dribbles down over my fingers, but it doesn’t matter, as long as I deposit some in the provided receptacle, I suppose, the computer will be satisfied.

It seems to drag on for a while, this release. Not that I’m complaining; it feels so good I wouldn’t be able to comprehend words enough to form an actual complaint at this moment, even if I wanted to. But as climaxes go, this one, long and intense and oh, so delicious, is up there with the best.

I shakily place the cup (around 7-10mls not including what I didn’t catch – that has to be some sort of record for me) onto the floor and roll over, curling into a ball, my softening cock twitching through aftershocks of pleasure as every muscle in my body relaxes me into another round of sleep.

I wake up five hours later, sprawled on my back with my cock out, still soft for now, and my hand sticky. It must have worked. I must have needed it.

Slowly, I sit up again, tucking my co- my penis back in. Making myself presentable. I am in uniform, after all. I reach up to smooth my hair down. It’s a mess, and there are loose strands stuck to my forehead. I’ll deal with that later.

I notice the cup of ejaculate has gone, collected by my trusty pal, the porno robot arm, and a little sink has been revealed from behind its wall panel.

The computer isn’t going to instruct me to clean myself up – it’s giving me that dignity at least, but it’s pointing me in the right direction. And it’s correct.

I stand on shaky legs to head over there, feeling a slight headrush.

Hopefully, the computer will never speak of it again-

‘Thirty-seven seconds.’

‘Until what?’ I ask, too relaxed to care very much, as I soap up my semen-coated palm.

‘Thirty-seven seconds to produce 7.8mls of semen.’

My cheeks burn. It timed me? And I couldn’t even last out a whole minute?

Did computers care about premature ejaculation as much as humans seem to? Is it even premature when you’re only trying to pleasure yourself?

‘Yeah, well, it’s been a while,’ I retort, sheepish but clearly irked. ‘A long while.’

No further comment from the computer. Great.

I know it’s time for me to get on with the thousand other things occupying my time on this ship, so I do. But the nagging thought I couldn’t shake as I observed the beetles told me that I had to prove the computer wrong about my stamina.

I can last.

And apparently, the thought of proving the computer wrong about my own masturbation habits was doing it for me and-

‘Mmhhnnn-’

That delicious friction against my sensitive cock in these pants was tormenting me. And I thought cock not penis so I must be horny again. Does space travel typically cause high levels of arousal?

Fuck it. It doesn’t matter.

‘Computer, you got another cup? You can watch this time. I’m gonna put on a real show for you.’

[garricks4thwingqueen]

I'm Going to be a Father? Garrick Tavis X Reader

Synopsis: In honor of Father's day I thought it would be fun to do a fluffy prompt where you find out you're pregnant and go to tell Garrick.  Reader is Xaden’s twin and has been in a long term relationship with Garrick since the rebellion. 

Trigger Warnings: This is a floof of finding out your pregnant and telling Garrick.  Some Swearing

Word Count: 999

     You sighed as you had walked back from the healers quadrant. You hadn’t been feeling well for about a week. Squad battles had just happened and it was your third year at Basgiath so both you and Garrick along with your brother would be getting your lieutenant assignments soon and needless to say you were stressed about being separated from either your boyfriend or your twin. You didn’t even want to bother with going to the healers but after throwing up on your morning run with Imogen and violet you were practically dragged there by Imogen herself. 

    Breathe. It’ll be ok. Do you think you're the first rider to get pregnant before they graduate?   Your dragon Kira chimed into your head. I blame you and Chradh. Two certain dragons forgot their shields three weeks ago.  Garrick had to partially drag me out of battle brief. You hissed at your dragon through your bond. Having mated dragons was sometimes the biggest pain you had to deal with. But you were thankful that you had mated dragons with your boyfriend and neither of your dragons chose other riders. Chradh and I have not had riders in years after we lost our previous riders. We were waiting for the right couple. Garrick and I were the right couple? You have each proven the qualities we wanted in our corresponding riders and you had both started in the same year with an established relationship. That alone was important to us. Fine. Just keep your shield up about this till I tell him. As you wish my dear. 

   You shoved your shield back up. Wanting a few moments of privacy before having to go to breakfast and classes for the rest of the day.  You took the stairs up to the third floor where your shared bedroom with Garrick was and unfortunately it was also right across from Xaden’s. 

“Fucking staircases with no railings.” you mumbled as you caught your breath almost falling from the third step to the top of the landing onto the landing as you felt a pair of familiar hands touch your shoulder and catch you. “Falling up the stairs now that’s talent Y/N/” Xaden snickered. “Shut up.” You hissed at your brother. 

   “Hey.” He put his hands up in self defense. “Everything ok?” “What’s goi-” Garrick stopped noticing your now scraped knee. His demeanor completely changes into the soft protective Garrick you so much. “What happened. “ He asked, helping you get back on your feet steadily. “She fell going up the stairs.” Xaden smirked. You shot him a look with dagger eyes that could kill. “Let’s get you into our room, little one.” “I have to say falling up the stairs is a talent , especially with you. Are you feeling ok?” He asked, grabbing a piece of scrap fabric you both kept on the desk in case these situations were either of you maybe a little scrapped up. You hissed in pain at the contact. I think it's time.  Kira said softly. 

         “Actually, no.” You sighed and ran your fingers through his curls as he stood up and sat on the bed next to you and pulled you into his chest. “What's wrong, love.” He soothed and kissed the top of your head as you let his strong muscular arms wrap around and create your safe space that you felt so warm in. “I, I’m-” You started to say and suddenly felt nervous to tell him. But knew keeping anything from Garrick would be difficult especially with mated dragons. “It’s I’m, your-” You stumbled trying to find the right words. “Hey. It’s ok you can tell me.” Garrick said soothingly, making comforting circles on your back. “Please don’t get mad and I know the timing is shit.” “Baby girl, whatever you have to say I’m not going to be mad. I promise.” You took a deep breath before sighing and ripping off the band aid. 

           “Imogen dragged me to the healers because I threw up after this morning.” “and?” Garrick questioned. “And Im Pregnant.” You closed your eyes waiting for the disappointment because let's face who wants to get pregnant when you're attending a war college? “I know we are about to graduate and we could get separated for who-.” Garrick cuts off your rambling and places a hand on your stomach, “I’m going to be a father?” He said softly. You nod against his chest, your nervousness almost going away until you can’t help but blurt out: “What do you want to do?” You asked almost completely in tears. 

    “Oh sweety.” Garrick said, completely pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “Why do you even ask such a silly question my sweet love?” “Because we are literally prepping for a fucking war and we have no idea if we are getting placed together or not for our assignments.” You sniffed as your voice was muffled and laden with tears. “Y/N I know the timing isn’t great but we have always had each other and that’s what matters most. That and that I love you.” “I love you too, Gare Bear.” You smiled looking up at him as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “I promise I’m going to be right by your side and I promise we will get through this and start our family whether we have a happy and healthy little boy or girl; no matter what.” Garrick had said his lips were still on top of yours. “Promise with sprinkles?” You could feel Garrick smirk against your lip as you used the promise phrase you Garrick and Xaden had come up with when you were kids. Garrick chuckled “I promise with all the sprinkles ever. Whatever this journey brings, all that matters is that we have each other and a healthy little one at the end of everything.”  You hummed in content in Garrick’s arms, his words reassuring that everything would really be ok in the end.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The first person to come and try your lemon bars was Mr. Baker. He stormed out of his house a few moments prior

Why did Dennis storm out? Did him and his ex wife get into an argument?

Well, nonnie, you got me again. I have some thoughts about this one.

And here goes...

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dennis Baker x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Dennis explains what happened in the moments before you first met.

Warnings: mention of past domestic fighting, past verbal abuse, and infidelity

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. Any errors are mine.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You had been in the kitchen, putting together your tray of lemon bars to take over to Dennis’ parents’ house for their anniversary party, when it hit you.

“Bubby?” You called out toward the living room, where Dennis and DJ were having tummy time.

Within a few seconds, your husband walks in carrying your cranky son, who desperately needs a nap. Dennis notices the look on your face—one he’s grown to know. You’re biting your lip and playing with your fingers. You want to ask him something, but you’re nervous to bring it up.

“You’ve got something on your mind, sweetheart. I can see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours,” Dennis presses.

“I don’t even know if it’s any of my business to ask. I was just finishing the lemon bars, and I got to thinking about when we first met. You had stormed out of your old house with her. And I was wondering what she could have said to you to make you leave. And I can’t help but want to ask about it because we’ve never fought like that. Blame my hormones; I think my period is on its way,” you admit.

He runs a hand down your arm and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m going to put DJ down for a nap. When I come back, we’ll talk about it, ok?”

When he comes back a few minutes later, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea to calm your nerves. He sits next to you and takes one of your hands, looking into your eyes.

“Firstly, I want to tell you that it is your business to ask about my past. You’re my wife, and I trust you with my life. That includes my past, present, and future. And it’s been so long since I was in that horrible relationship that it feels like a dream most days. Well, more like a nightmare, honestly,” he begins, a nervous chuckle leaving him.

“Baby, we don’t have to talk about this. I don’t want to put you back in that headspace,” you sigh, feeling as though you could melt through the floor.

“I want to talk about it, sweetheart. And you could never put me back into that situation or into that headspace. You’re my safe space,” he confesses, squeezing your hand in his. “So, that day was just like any other for us. She would berate me for being a terrible husband, meaning I wasn’t submitting to her enough. Even though, at that specific time, I did everything for her. I cooked, I cleaned, and I let her walk all over me. All of it was because she had me trained to think that her version of love was what I deserved.

“But, anyway, we had already been going through a divorce. The paperwork was signed and everything; we were just waiting for it to be finalized by the judge. She chose that day to let me know that she had been seeing someone. And I immediately thought, ‘Oh great, she’s finally seeing a therapist’. The optimist in me wouldn’t have ever thought that she meant another man,” Dennis says, shaking his head.

“That fucking bitch,” you hiss, covering your mouth after it slipped out.

Dennis laughs at your outburst, continuing, “Yeah, exactly. She’d already been banging the pool boy; that was the catalyst for our divorce. But then she tells me that she met someone new in her yoga class. And not just anyone in the class; she was fucking the instructor. After everything we went through, good or bad, she still chose to continue cheating. The instructor, by the way? He just happened to be my old high school bully.

“I almost didn’t believe it when she told me. But as soon as I heard the name Lance Tucker, I imploded. I died a little that day. She had the nerve to tell me that she needed him because I wasn’t enough for her. Mind you, we hadn’t had sex in ages. The look on her face while she was telling me all this wasn’t in the least bit sorrowful or apologetic. She also said that I'd never find anyone else because of my shy demeanor. I was at a loss for words, so instead of trying to say something, I just left.

“And who’s the first face I see when I leave the house? My beautiful future wife. Of course, there was no way for me to know that you would be mine. But the only thing I saw in your eyes was peace. Call me a dork, but you had my heart as soon as you reached up to my face with that napkin. Anybody else would have surely let me wear those crumbs, but you? You went out of your way to clean me up. From that moment on, I knew I was in trouble.” He tilts his head and smiles at you, his blue eyes sparkling.

“And by trouble, you mean the way I was looking at you like you were a tall drink of water on a hot day?” you gush, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Well, no. I mean, I saw you looking at me, but I would never have guessed in a million years that you would look at me like that. I just thought you were being nice. But as for trouble, I meant that I was still concerned about possibly flirting with you while I was still married. That’s how deep her hold on me was. And I didn’t want to bring you into what she and I were dealing with. I assumed you had a line of guys waiting to sweep you off your feet,” he rambles on, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“Ok, that makes sense. I had to get in your lap and kiss you for you to get the hint. I still remember your face after kissing you, so innocent and full of surprise,” you hum, smiling at the memory.

“Innocent, huh? I’ll show you innocent, sweetheart,” he quips, standing from his chair and pulling you up as well.

He kisses you, wrapping his arms around your waist, before picking you up and turning to set you on the kitchen counter. His hands grip your legs and wrap them around his hips. As your clothed sex meets his khaki-covered hardness, the last thing on your mind is innocence.

He nips at your bottom lip, soothing it with his tongue as you open your mouth to let him in. His tongue massages yours, and you let out a sweet little whimper.

“Shhh, sweetheart. Let me take care of you, alright?” he insists, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please,” you whine, feeling him twitch in his pants.

He only smiles, looking at you like you hung the damn moon just for him. Taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, he lifts your face to plant a chaste kiss on your lips. He deepens the kiss again, smiling into it and thinking about your first time together.

He plans on blowing that out of the water in a few minutes, and you have no idea what your man has in store for you.

But don’t worry. He’ll take good care of you.

A/N: I’m calling this a drabble…but I think it might be a full-fledged fic at this point hahaha.