#I’m going to vote as much as I possibly can. Even if I have to wait HOURS OR DAYS.

[madampresidentkamala]

I am very concerned about some of the messaging going around that we shouldn’t vote for Kamala because she supposedly doesn’t care about Palestine. This messaging is very dangerous and I ask anyone who comes across this to please think twice before you allow this messaging to stop you from voting. I trust Kamala Harris when she says she believes Palestinians have a right to self determination. I trust her when she says she wants a ceasefire. The Israeli government is a force of evil, but the Israeli people are not. The Israeli people deserve to be safe from Hamas just as the Palestinians deserve to be safe from the Netanyahu. Kamala Harris is not Joe Biden. She is her own person and she is handling the issue in a way that protects both people. Loss of life is much greater for Palestinians, but we can’t fall prey to anti semitism either. The man Kamala loves is a Jewish man.

That being said, even if you are not convinced. Even if you do not trust her, what is the alternative? Boycotting your right to vote or voting third party increases the odds of a Trump presidency. It is not possible for Jill Stein to win. If you do not trust Kamala, that is fine. But realize there is no question about how Trump will handle the war. He has no compassion for anyone, including Palestinians. It may make you feel less guilty to vote third party or to not vote at all, but it won’t help anyone. It will only subject both the Palestinians and the citizens of America to disarray and death.

I respect that not every liberal will relate to Kamala and trust her as I do, but it is very clear that however much you might doubt her, Trump is the only possible alternative. And it’s not a viable alternative. I’m not sure our country or Palestine can survive another Trump presidency.

[saphronethaleph]

Snooze Cruise

Anakin’s head was whirling as he got into the speeder.

The Chancellor was a Sith. Chancellor Palpatine was a Sith.

The man had been a close friend for – well, since Anakin had left Tatooine, really.

And he was a Sith.

It was… too big. There was too much to grasp.

Anakin backed his speeder out of the parking spot, turned to fly to the Jedi Temple, and yawned.

This led to him nearly crashing into an air lorry, and he skidded abruptly to a halt in mid-air before shaking his head and groaning.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, out loud.

He needed to speak to someone about this.

He should probably speak to Padme about this.

Turning the speeder, Anakin took the air way to their apartment instead, doing his best to concentrate on flying instead of on the fact that Palpatine was a Sith.

The door opened, and Anakin raised his voice.

“Padme?” he called.

“Ah!” C-3P0 said, coming in from one of the rooms leading off the entrance hall. “Sir, I am afraid that Mistress Padme is not currently in. She is involved in a meeting.”

Anakin almost demanded to know if that meeting was with Obi-Wan, before shaking his head as he remembered that Obi-Wan was on Utapau.

“Should I… let her know you want to see her?” C-3P0 asked.

“No, Threepio,” Anakin waved the offer off. “I’ll just wait for her to get back. It’s… something I need to think about before we talk, anyway.”

“Oh, I see,” C-3P0 decided. “Or, rather, I don’t. But I’m quite used to such things. Do you want something to eat, Sir?”

Anakin waved that offer off as well. “No thanks. I’ll just sit down.”

He divested himself of his cloak, hanging it up on one of the hooks by the door, then went through to the main living area and sat down on the couch.

Within a few minutes, four days of no sleep had caught up with him, and he passed out.

Mace Windu glanced at the time – almost eight in the morning – and then flicked on his comlink.

The first comm code he called produced no reply, even after a wait of several minutes, and he frowned slightly before switching to a new combination.

That one, fortunately, produced a response almost immediately. Senator Padme Amidala answered the call.

“Master Jedi?” she asked. “This is Master Windu, yes?”

“That’s correct, Senator,” Mace confirmed. “I was wondering if you knew where Anakin was. I’ve called his comlink, and he hasn’t answered.”

“I don’t know where he is, no, I’ve been involved in a meeting all night,” Padme replied. “Master Jedi – did you know about the Abolition Act?”

Mace blinked.

“I’d heard of it, yes,” he said. “So far as we’re aware, it’s a legal mechanism to try and dissolve the Jedi… we’d believed it was a scheme by Darth Sidious, an attack against the Jedi.”

He glanced in the direction of the Council chamber. “That’s one reason why Obi-Wan launched his attack on General Grievous on Utapau. We hoped to draw Sidious out.”

“I don’t know if that’s what’s going on, but the Chancellor just announced that the Abolition Act was coming up for a vote,” Padme said. “I didn’t have a clue why, but if Sidious is involved… do you think he managed to get to the Chancellor?”

“It’s possible,” Mace admitted. “When is the vote?”

“It’s outside normal order, so… now,” Padme answered.

Mace turned, striding to the doors of the council chamber, and Kit, Agen, Sasee and Coleman looked up from their seats as he entered.

“Something’s happening,” he said. “Senator, can you keep us updated?”

“I’ll do my best, Master Jedi,” Padme promised.

“How important?” Kit asked.

“As important as it can get,” Mace replied. “The whole Order needs to hear this… I can feel it.”

The vote counts began coming in, and Palpatine tried to suppress a nervous twitch.

He was having to improvise. Improvising in the end game was a difficult thing to do, especially when he had no idea why his gambit had failed.

What should have happened was that he would have his new apprentice, or he would have an open break with the Jedi Order… which would earn him his new apprentice anyway.

But as of now, he had neither. And without his new apprentice, he didn’t have nearly as good an excuse for an open break with the Jedi Order… he could not very well have Anakin give his account of how the Council had been planning to bypass and replace the Chancellor.

If he was going to get his empire out of this, he needed that break. Order 66 could not take place without some kind of reason behind it, something he could point to, and yet it had to take place as soon as possible… the war was entering its final phase, and within days the Jedi would be returning home. Away from their loyal soldiers… away from their hidden assassins.

So be it.

If there was anything that would force a break with the Jedi, it was this. And, as the votes rolled in, Palpatine saw that he had managed it… at a great cost, but he had managed it.

At least four factions in the Senate had been persuaded that they had to vote in favour of the Abolition Act despite Palpatine’s professed wishes to keep the Jedi around. Two of those factions had been persuaded by Palpatine himself arguing that their votes were necessary for political reasons, and that the Act would never pass anyway.

“The motion is carried,” Mos Amedda declared.

“I bow to the wishes of the Senate,” Palpatine announced. “And now that it is law, I am bound to carry it out. The Jedi Order will be dissolved, effective…”

Immediately? No. He needed enough time for them to act rashly, not enough time for them to think.

“...as of ten in the morning, today, Coruscant time,” he decided.

The Senator for Naboo signalled to speak the instant it became possible, and her pod floated out into the central arena.

“I have a reply from Master Windu of the Jedi Council,” she said, without preamble, and Mace Windu’s holographic head appeared in projection from her systems.

“Sure,” Master Windu said. “The war’s basically over anyway.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...what?” he asked.

“The war’s basically over anyway,” Mace repeated. “An hour to pack might be a bit tight, but I think we can fit everything into some of the freighters.”

“Are you saying you’re going to just leave?” Palpatine asked, not quite sure what he was hearing.

“Yes,” Mace confirmed. “We have all been working very hard for years, often without much of a rest, and we would very much like a break. If you don’t want to keep us around, we’ll do it elsewhere.”

The image wavered, and a second hologram appeared next to it.

“We’re with you, Master Windu,” Clone Marshal Commander Bly stated. “Voting’s going on now, but I’m sure of it. All of us are – we quit. We’re your army, not the Republic’s, and that’s how it should be… you won’t waste our lives.”

“You were listening in?” Mace asked, sounding amused.

“If it affects all the Jedi, it affects all of us,” Bly declared. “And speaking for myself, Master Windu… we would very much like a break as well.”

Palpatine was staring at the holograms.

“...you are all listening in?” he said, then decided he was never going to get an opportunity better than this one. “Initiate Order Sixty-Six!”

Commander Bly just looked confused.

“Chancellor?” he said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d like to know that myself,” Senator Amidala admitted.

It took all of Palpatine’s immense self-control to avoid reacting to that bit of news.

Hiding Order Sixty-Six in the biochips of the clones forming the Grand Army of the Republic was the greatest bit of deception and complex planning the Sith had managed in-

Palpatine’s train of thought screeched to a halt, backed up, and examined the proper nouns involved.

...the clones weren’t part of the Grand Army of the Republic any more, or of any direct successor organization involved. They’d quit.

Someone, presumably someone Kaminoan, had simplified the programming by using a function definition that didn’t apply in this situation, and he was now buggered sideways with a lightsaber.

Anakin yawned, stretching, and his hands touched metal.

“Mwuh?” he asked, blinking a few times, then rolled over on their couch and fell onto a metal floor.

That got him the rest of the way awake, and he looked around with surprise.

He was on… a starship, with a blanket half-tangled in his legs. There were crates packed and stacked haphazardly around the bed he was on, and the quiet murmur in the Force of sentients elsewhere.

“Ah!” Threepio said, appearing at the door. “Master Anakin, sir. It is good to see you are awake. Shall I inform the rest of the Council?”

“What’s going on?” Anakin asked, touching the hilt of his lightsaber. “Where am I?”

“I’m not an expert at hyperspace navigation, sir,” Threepio replied. “That is more Artoo’s department. But I believe we are about halfway between Coruscant and the Yavin system. A lot has happened since you fell asleep.”

“Including me being moved into a spaceship?” Anakin asked.

“You were very deeply asleep, sir,” Threepio confirmed.

“…you quit?” Anakin asked, ten minutes later, looking between the holographic forms of the other Councillors – and the half-dozen Clone Commanders who were also on the call. “All of you?”

“The Senate voted to disband the Jedi Order,” Mace told him. “The Order’s not part of the Republic, but it could have caused us a lot of problems. So… we left.”

“Our ally, the Force is,” Yoda said, nodding sagely. “Helped with packing, it did.”

“The only thing we’re not sure about yet is why the Chancellor said what he said, during the meeting,” Rex told him. “We’ve been trying to work it out since we hit hyperspace. Politics in the Republic are very confused right now.”

“I could… probably help with that,” Anakin said. “Though I guess first I should say… is Padme okay? We’re – we’re married.”

That resulted in a ripple of laughter through the call.

“We know, sir,” Rex said.

“All of us,” Mace agreed. “You moved in with her.”

“It was actually causing a problem,” Ki-Adi-Mundi informed him. “Students were asking if marriage was really not allowed or just that we were supposed to pretend it wasn’t.”

“Clearly the second option,” Sasee opined. “Clearly.”

“...do you also know that the Chancellor is a Sith?” Anakin said. “He told me.”

“Okay, that is new,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Perhaps we should tell your wife. She might find it useful to know.”

[thriftedtchotchkes]

switching the positions

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food

word count: 16.2k

moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡

a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

SUNDAY

"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not gonna hate you.”

Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away. 

Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.

“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.

“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.

“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?” 

He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.

“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”

Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it. 

“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?” 

You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.

“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”

He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.” 

So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.

MONDAY

"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."

It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.

You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays. 

Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.

Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—

And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets. 

It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief. 

“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.

His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.

Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life. 

But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.” 

The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately. 

“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.

“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”

Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.

“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.

"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.

"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"

You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect. 

The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.

You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.

"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."

He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.

Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most. 

You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.

"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."

"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."

So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.

Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—

Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.

"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."

A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth. 

"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.

"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—

The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.

"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."

You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.

Neither of you makes it to work on time.

TUESDAY

"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."

The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.

You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.

“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.

“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.

“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.

“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.

“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless. 

It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too. 

“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her. 

It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself. 

You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.

“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack. 

…Wait. She’s leaving?

“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”

“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”

You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder. 

“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!” 

And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.

You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.

Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best. 

Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.

The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.

There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship. 

Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.

Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.

You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good. 

You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise. 

“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”

Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit. 

Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.

And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.

“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”

He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen. 

“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.

“Good. It’s dinner time.”

WEDNESDAY

"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."

Spin class sucks.

There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.

It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this. 

It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun. 

But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.

No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it. 

There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.

The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative. 

It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.

Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.

Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him. 

What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats. 

Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you. 

That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.

The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are. 

Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all. 

You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.

"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"

You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far. 

On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.

It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.

“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."

Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core. 

You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.

Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.

"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"

His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it. 

Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.

Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.

"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."

And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars. 

Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful. 

Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—

But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.

"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"

Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.

"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.

You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.

"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.

"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.

"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.

"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine." 

Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him. 

You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.

All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—

But he's got one last edge left in him. 

You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.

He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.

"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively. 

Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you. 

But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.

You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.

"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need. 

You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs. 

Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?

But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself. 

Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.

“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."

You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?

"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.

He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.

"Wanna explain what all of that was?"

"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."

"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense. 

You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.

"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"

"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!" 

But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.

"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.

"That's okay. We won't need one."

THURSDAY

"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"

Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.

You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.

How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.

Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.

It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option. 

Two blue lines. Pregnant.

You knew this week was going a little too well. 

Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.

Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought. 

Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this. 

It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.

There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.

Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point. 

You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before? 

Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight. 

Fuck.

Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.

But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar. 

Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?

No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.

If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable. 

Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.

So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken. 

Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.

“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”

She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken. 

“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”

“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”

The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.

Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.

It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.  

"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"

Yeah, you could say that.

You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.

"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you. 

His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you. 

Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering. 

That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.

Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.

But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.

His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.

His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."

Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm. 

But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.

“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.

“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”

Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.

The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.

“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells. 

“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”

“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone. 

Together. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”

FRIDAY

"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."

Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.

You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk. 

“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.” 

You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.

Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer. 

Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that. 

You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up. 

Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes. 

Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur. 

Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time. 

You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.

Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.

Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand. 

But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer. 

“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”

You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck. 

“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.

“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips. 

Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans. 

You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere. 

Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.

But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.

“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”

You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.

“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”

“Whatever you want, baby."

Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction. 

Now, you want something else. 

You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either. 

His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all. 

Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.

"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."

Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken. 

Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration. 

He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.

Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie. 

"Should ya be doin' that right now?" 

There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.

"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"

The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"

You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.

"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."

"Deal," he says without hesitation.

"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening. 

He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.

"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."

Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.

"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart. 

You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.

Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open. 

"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit. 

Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast. 

Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap. 

"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"

You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—

Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically. 

"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.

What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now. 

And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.

Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric. 

He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.

"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."

"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."

He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.

"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."

But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.

"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.

You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something. 

"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his. 

You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation. 

"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now." 

Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.

His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back. 

So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.

"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.

"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."

Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead. 

"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."

Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough. 

Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.

“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you. 

It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.

But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.

"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.

Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.

Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.

And still so mouthy.

“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”

"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?" 

It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.

"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."

Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight. 

His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.

“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”

“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?” 

Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.

“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”

SATURDAY

"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."

You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.

And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.

Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content. 

He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs. 

That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.

But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.

He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.

His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once. 

Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you. 

"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens. 

"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"

You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers. 

Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.

"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.

"Huh?" you ask dumbly. 

"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh. 

"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.

"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"

And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.

God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.

Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.

"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."  

Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath. 

You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement. 

He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you. 

But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.

You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.

“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"

Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.

“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”

Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.

Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.

Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves. 

His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip. 

The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him. 

And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat. 

You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.

"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."

How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.

Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite. 

But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment. 

And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking. 

Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.

“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”

It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.

At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.

His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again. 

Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation. 

Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.

Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.

“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach. 

Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.

"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away. 

His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.

It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives. 

“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.” 

You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.

“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”

He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.

You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful. 

When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free. 

Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.

Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.

Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.

He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately. 

After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.

"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."

The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache. 

You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.

Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth. 

"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."

He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.

“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."

You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.

Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.

"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"

Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that. 

His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does. 

Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.

You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would. 

And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.

You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could. 

It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.

"Yeah, I do."

thanks for reading! 💕

[dearreader]

k so i made this poll awhile ago to answer my question on if people would rather spend a date with a swiftie or an anti-swiftie (someone who hates her and devotes their life to hating on her). i mentioned i didn’t have the spoons to handle it being longer than a day and know it was going to be biased as it would start in my circle and would work it’s way out, so i wanted to do a longer poll when i had the energy to handle a week long poll like that. (i’m assuming when i post this, as i’m pre making it, i’ll be in recovery from my nose surgery since i’ll be stuck at home a week so i’ll have more time to monitor and look at the tags)

so nows the time, but i’m going to addendum the question a bit:

*some extra things that came up on the original poll i didn’t elaborate on fully that i want to make clear:

- you don’t get a say in what type of swiftie you get. assume that you’re going to be spending the evening with someone who massively loves her and her music and wants to discuss it. they’ll talk about songs, their favorite lines and meanings, symbolism behind the reputation album, etc.

- YOU MUST TALK ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT. even if it’s the anti-swiftie you must talk about her. i understand the sentiment people made on her not coming up, and that’s valid, but that’s not the question i’m asking. YOU HAVE TO SPEND THE EVENING WITH SOMEONE WHOS GOING TO TALK ABOUT TAYLOR SWIFT NONSTOP, WILL IT BE THE LOVER OR HATER?

- im just trying to gather a general consensus on this and want to get data from a lot of people which means this is going to end up on people’s blogs who probably hate swifties and are annoyed by them. that’s okay as that’s the point of my question. but if you’re going to go off in the tags about how much you hate her or hate swifties and be an asshole about it im blocking you. you can just simple say “i hate her/i hate swifties” and don’t need to elaborate. you don’t need to sit in the tags going off on how much you hate her and trying to “defend” yourself from swifties. i just want an answer to the question.

- ALSO, this is not an open poll to go harass anyone in general. if you are a swiftie and see an hater in the tags and wanna fight DON’T FUCKING DO IT. just block and go read/watch your favorite media and think of blorbos kissing or whatever, but DO NOT SEND HATE OR HARASS ANYONE.

the hypothesis im trying to prove is that people in general would much rather spend an evening with someone that is going to talk about something they love all night vs someone who will spend the evening talking about something they hate. i want to gather as much data as possible to get a good consensus and if you go and be an asshole to someone because of their tags on this poll, either side of the swiftie to anti-swiftie spectrum, your disproving the point. if you see tags you don’t like just simply block and carry on. understand? k good.

- in general this is not meant to be a very serious or heavy question. it’s meant to just let me pick people’s brains and see what they’d want to do. i just want to get my results and go. just vote, drop your opinion in the tags, and go.

- also, this last part is silly and not at all related to my data, but since i’m forcing you on a dinner date i’ll at least let you pick the restaurant and food you have. so if you could also say what restaurant/food choice you’d want and what you’d want to order i’d love to hear it. sky’s the limit here. go nutz or even very specific on what you’d want to eat. i am trying to learn to cook and don’t know a lot of recipes or different food types, so i’m hoping this will give me a bigger idea of what food is out there to make. (this question is not meant to be a way to stick it to anyone or for you to go “i’ll go to a shitty ass restaurant and take a swiftie/anti-swiftie and make them eat garbage 🤪”, it’s just a fun question to give people something positive to add to the poll if they want. AGAIN IF YOUR GOING TO BE AN ASSHOLE ILL BLOCK YOU.)

- i’m going to be annoying and ask that you reblog for a wider sample size and such, if you don’t want to that’s fine, but i’m going to be polite and ask you nicely.

that should be everything, thank you for reading my long ass list and voting in this poll. i hope you have a good day and such.

[greynatomy]

regret

leah williamson x reader

actually finished writing something! wooo! the poll i put out was a close one, but this pair ultimately won. thanks to all who voted.

i’ve decided to split this into two parts, so this isn’t the end peoples!

part 2

———

“Alright. Remember, when we get there—”

“—pretend that we’re still happily married. I know.” You say annoyed, getting out of the car.

“Hey, don’t be like that!” Leah gets out of the car, catching up to you.

“Be like what? I’m not the one who got us in this situation.”

“Can we just be civil? This is the last time we’ll go through this.”

“Piss off will you! We wouldn’t have to act civil if you kept your mouth to yourself. And you had the audacity to file for divorce.”

Before Leah could reply, the front door opens to reveal Amanda, Leah’s Mom.

“Oh, I’ve missed you girls so much!”

Putting up a smile on your face, you engulfed the woman in a hug.

“Missed you too Amanda.”

“Come in! Come in!”

“Oi! David how’ve you been pops?”

“Oh, I’ve been wonderful! Glad to have you here!” He pulls you into a hug.

“There’s my favorite sister!” You hear behind you, Jacob just coming down the stairs from his room.

“Come here you! It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has! You gotta visit me more often.” You tense a bit, but not enough for him to notice in your embrace, putting up a smile on your face.

“I’ll try to visit more.”

What you don’t see behind you is Leah watching your interactions with her family.

You’ve known each other young. You’ve both been dating since you were fifteen, marrying at nineteen, divorced at twenty-one.

Her family’s have welcomed you with open arms since the beginning. You were her first serious relationship. The only one of her girlfriends that her family loved. You’ve had your whole life basically planned out, Leah would become a footballer, you a doctor, marriage, kids, the dream basically.

Leah didn’t know the exact reason why she did what she did, but it happened and she couldn’t take it back. She knew this teammate of hers has liked her for a while and never told her off.

She woke up to an unfamiliar bed, an arm around her that certainly wasn’t you. She regretted it the moment she woke up, didn’t know how to tell you, but you found out before she could. Ashamed of herself, Leah filed for divorce.

———

Leah didn’t know what she was thinking divorcing you. She didn’t have the right to be the one to file as she was the one who fucked up. It was impulsive and shameful. It was the best option she could think of at the time.

Now here she was, five years later, at the Emirates training grounds, about to run for the first time since her ACL injury. She missed you so much during this time. Every time she was injured in any way, you were always by her side nursing her back to health. You were her support system, making her fall more in love with you. This time, without you by her side, she realized how much she took you for granted, how she didn’t show you enough love, betraying you in the worst way possible.

She’d already signed the divorce papers, pressuring you to do the same all while making you go to her family’s for a dinner pretending that nothing has changed between the two of you. It was when she finally saw your signature on the papers was when she realized how she’s lost you for good.

———

Getting back home after a family walk, Amanda spots a stack of papers on the kitchen counter, a folded paper on top, along with two rings. Curious, she opens it up and quickly skims through them, shock fills her body after she finished reading.

“Leah!” She yells for her daughter.

“Yeah, mum?” Leah walks into the kitchen to see her mom holding something up.

“What the hell is this?”

Leah being clueless, grabs the sheet, reading it herself.

Leah,

I’ve finally signed everything you’ve been wanting me to sign. I don’t know why I’ve put it off for so long even if I’m not the one at fault. Guess it’s just hard to let go of the one you love the most.

Don’t contact me. Don’t look for me. You’re free.

Yn

Leah couldn’t even respond to her mother. All the emotions she bottled up came at her all at once, breaking down in front of her family. Six years of relationship, one year of marriage over.

[hannieoftheyear]

sexting with Mingyu

the one where you accidentally send Mingyu – someone who you do not like – a nude.

content warnings: smut, sexting, mingyu is an avid emoji user, switch mingyu but more subby at the end (sawrrrry I can’t help it), use of pet names (good boy and baby).

w.c: 2,9k

note: I wanted to post a quick work to get this blog going while I finish some longer things I’m working on ♡ hope you like it and I’m sorry if there are any mistakes

part 2 is posted! find it here

Your eyes roll when your phone lights up and the text notification pops up.

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t forget to transfer me the money for Seokmin’s bday 🙏 [11:47 pm.]

The idea of Kim Mingyu of all people handling something as important as a birthday surprise for your best friend irks you.

Of course he was his best friend too. But why on earth did he end up making the plans. And who made you follow his lead. It’s like torture. You don’t want to engage with him in any way.

He was so smug when everyone decided he should be in charge of the surprise party. The decision was between you and him, and you guess people don’t really like your style of planning because it was an unanimous vote. Still, you liked not having to stress so much about it, but having to rely on your sworn enemy makes you shrug.

Okay, maybe sworn enemy it’s an exaggeration. You two just don’t like each other, and that’s fine. Not everyone is always going to like you, and you’re okay with that. The problem is when you can’t avoid said person because you’re in the same fucking friend group.

You two avoid each other if possible. When the whole group hangs out, you try to stay as far away as you can. It’s not like you fight with him, but your exchanges are short and dry, often a little harsh, so you try your best to avoid it to not spoil the mood.

After you transfer him the money, you take a screenshot to send him. It’s not really needed, but you do it just to make sure there’s proof that you transferred the money.

You open his chat and send the last picture on your camera roll without even looking, trying to be done with him the fastest possible.

You: [Picture.] [11:50 pm.]

Locking your phone, you keep working on the assignment your boss asked you to finish by tomorrow. But it gets cut short because not even five minutes later, Mingyu texts you again. You don’t open his chat, but instead, read it through the notification.

Kim Mingyu🤢: didn’t take you as the type to take pics like that 🫣 [11:54 pm.]

You wonder what the hell he’s talking about and why he chose such an annoying emoji.

As you open the chat, your eyes grow wide, and you realize you forgot to check what exactly you were sending Mingyu.

It seems that your screenshot hadn’t fully loaded on the gallery, and you accidentally sent him the previous last photo on your camera roll, which was a mirror selfie of you wearing a new pair of underwear you bought today.

Panic starts to creep in on you, but before doing anything stupid, you breathe in and breathe out, calming yourself to think. Mingyu’s still online, which means he’s probably waiting for your answer.

Instead of admitting it was on accident or showing him any weakness, you decide to play with him a little. He likes to annoy you too, so why not do the same.

You: you never know… I’m full of surprises.

You: why wouldn’t I take a pic if I look pretty? [11:55 pm]

You don’t expect much but his reply comes as soon as you click send.

Kim Mingyu🤢: surprised I definitely am🤔 can’t decide if I like this side of you or not🫢 [11:55 pm.]

You: like I care about your validation [11:56 pm.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should.

You: ?

Kim Mingyu🤢: take pics like this I mean😳

Now this is getting interesting.

You: so you think I look pretty? [11:57 pm.]

You wouldn’t lie and say him saying things like this doesn’t make you a little giddy. He’s always so dry with you, you definitely prefer this side of him.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should send me another one🫣 it’ll help me make up my mind.

You ponder on what’s happening for a solid minute before replying. Is he flirting? Is he teasing you? Will this just be another thing to annoy you in the future?

You: can you stop with those fuckass emojis. [11:58 pm.]

You: I’m not speaking to you if you keep talking like that.

Kim Mingyu🤢: what if I say please?

Now that. Is unexpected. At first it seemed like he wanted to annoy you too, but now he’s almost… begging? How far is he willing to take it? How willing are you?

You: you’re so annoying.

You: I’m trying to work.

Kim Mingyu🤢: all this time we've known each other and I’ve never even seen you in a bikini. [11:59 pm]

Kim Mingyu🤢: what a waste of time.

You: was it worth the wait?

Kim Mingyu🤢: you have no idea.

You: enlighten me then.

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh I don’t think you’re prepared for that.

The conversation is taking a turn you’re not sure if you should take. Exciting you in ways that it shouldn’t.

A chat between the two of you never exceeded a few texts. You are both always so eager to end it as soon as possible, so why does he keep replying? Why do you?

You: what do you want Mingyu? [12:00 am]

Your blatant question seems to take him by surprise because he doesn’t reply right away.

Kim Mingyu🤢: me? You’re the one that sent me a fucking nude at this hour [12:01 am]

He’s right. Are you embarrassing yourself? He’s never gonna let you live after this. But you’re not backing down now.

You: I wasn’t even naked you pervert [12:02 am]

You: and it didn’t seem to matter to you before

You: you liked it didn’t you

Kim Mingyu🤢: never said I didn’t

You: so…

Kim Mingyu🤢: what?

You: are you gonna do something about it?

You’re too curious for your own good. The lines between annoying him and flirting with him are getting more and more blurred every second that passes.

Now it’s your turn to be surprised.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you can’t ask me that [12:03 am]

You: why?

Minutes pass and you see him typing then nothing, then typing again. Your room starts to feel hotter, the expectation getting the best of you and you start to feel a familiar feeling at the base of your stomach.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should never send a desperate guy something like that at this hour [12:06 am]

You: are you that desperate?

Kim Mingyu🤢: [Picture.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: does that answer your question?

You stare in awe at your phone for what feels like an hour. His hard dick covered by his white boxers threatening to come out fills your screen. Nothing is left to the imagination.

Kim Mingyu🤢: cat got your tongue? [12:08 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: [Picture.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: it’s getting difficult to not touch myself

A second photo fills your screen now. It’s almost in the same position except now his hand is covering his bulge and his red tip is out.

Wetness starts to pool on your underwear, but he doesn’t need to know, yet at least.

You: I never pictured you as such a needy guy. [12:10 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m not ashamed to be who I am🙈

You: even with you hands on your pants you manage to send a fucking emoji wow. [12:11 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I can send something else

Kim Mingyu🤢: only if you want of course

You straighten yourself, waiting for another photo, but nothing happens. When you move on your seat, you feel just how wet you are. Oh you’re gonna kill him after this.

You: I really hate you you know [12:14 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: aren’t you supposed to be working?😨

You: you’re distracting

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh so you do want this

You: this? [12:15 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: all you have to do is ask

Kim Mingyu🤢: nicely

You: you really gonna make me beg?

Kim Mingyu🤢: want me to show you how horny I am?

Kim Mingyu🤢: you want me to make you feel good.

You: you could never make me feel good. [12:16 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh we’ll see about that.

The act you’re putting up won’t last much longer if he keeps up like this. Your right hand creeps down you abdomen. You barely graze your covered cunt, the little relief makes you sigh.

You’re too lost in the little pleasure and don’t realize he sent more texts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: [voice note] [12:18 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: your turn.

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m dying over here

Kim Mingyu🤢: are you touching yourself? [12:19 am]

You: you’re leaving me no choice. [12:20 am]

You decide to play with him a little and send him a ‘one view only’ photo of your hand inside your panties. The same panties as the first photo you sent.

After you reply, you dare to play his voice note. The faint sound of his hand tugging on his erection and his little grunts are nothing compared to the sigh he lets out at the end. You play with your fingers, circling them around your wet entrance.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re so not fair. [12:22 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I bet you’re so wet right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: I wish you were here so I could touch you properly [12:23 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: my fingers playing with your little cunt like the brat you are

This can’t hurt, right? It’s not like it will happen again, and besides he’s already jerking off to your image. You start circling around your clit, playing with yourself making you squirm.

You: I’m so wet [12:24 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: did i get you all riled up already?

You: don’t flatter yourself

Kim Mingyu🤢: tell me.

Kim Mingyu🤢: show me how wet you are [12:25 am]

You: I could just slide my fingers in

Kim Mingyu🤢: I said show me

You debate if you should actually send him something. You know he’s trustworthy. He’s friends with your best friends after all, but this is something far beyond that.

You: should I? [12:26 am]

You: I could just leave you like this

You: get it done by myself

It could be read a threat, but you want to see how he reacts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t be mean☹️

Kim Mingyu🤢: I won’t show this to anyone [12:27 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: if that worries you

Kim Mingyu🤢: I promise

His sudden kindness surprises you a little.

You’re not sure if you always found Mingyu attractive. Sure he’s really handsome that’s undeniable. Maybe when you first met, you thought he was really hot, but those feelings died down because your relationship wasn’t the best. You had a few fights before you decided it was best for the group to just ignore each other if possible.

This was the first time in years you had a long conversation that didn’t end in a fight, and you like it.

You: I'm not the type to do this you know [12:28 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m not either

You: but I don't want to stop

Kim Mingyu🤢: me neither

Knowing he wants this too just turns you on more. He’s not pushing you to do anything, and you guess that if you tell him to stop, he will. But you have to make sure before you do something.

You: just promise me this is between us [12:30 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you have my word🤐

You: be serious for one second

Kim Mingyu🤢: you can trust me

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m serious I won’t show or tell anyone

That is enough to calm you for now. You don’t think about how this will affect your relationship. Seokmin’s birthday is just a few days away, and you’ll have to face Mingyu in front of everyone.

But that doesn’t bother you now as you’re filming what Mingyu so desperately was asking you to.

You angle your phone to show only your lower body on camera. You start the video circling your entrance, gathering as much arousal as possible. After that, you move your fingers closer to the camera to show how wet they are and then slowly insert two fingers in your hole. You end the video after a little moan escapes your lips

You: for being such a good boy [12:35 am]

You: [video]

You don’t stop fingering yourself and close your eyes, imagining it’s Mingyu’s hand and not yours. His thick fingers would stretch you more than yours ever could. A few slow strokes are enough to make you squirm. And you remember to open your eyes and see you got more texts from Mingyu.

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy fuck [12:37 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re dripping

Kim Mingyu🤢: I should be there right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: show you what my mouth could do

Kim Mingyu🤢: could eat you out for hours

Kim Mingyu🤢: fuck you’re making me so hard [12:38 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: [picture]

He had taken his boxers off and was now fully naked. His hand could barely wrap around his fully hard dick. The tip is pinkish red and leaking precum already.

You: fuck you’re so big [12:39 am]

You: I don’t think it could fit inside me

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’ll make it fit

You: how?

Kim Mingyu🤢: I'd make you cum so much that I'd slide right in

You: are you touching yourself?

Kim Mingyu🤢: god how I wish this was you instead of my hand

You close your eyes again. Imagining Mingyu on top of you as you finger yourself harder, as deep as you possibly can. Wet sounds and moans fill your room as you get closer and closer.

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m so close it’s embarrassing [12:41 am]

You: I am too

Kim Mingyu🤢: show me?🥺

The giggle you let out is almost instantaneous. His emojis are annoyingly cute.

You take a similar video as before, but don’t hold back the moans. Your strokes are slow to show on camera how deep you’re getting. The orgasm is so close that you can taste it, but you stop, edging yourself.

You: because you asked so nicely [12:43 am]

You: [video.]

You: now you

You wait a few minutes, stroking you clit lightly to not lose the orgasm but not quickly enough to stimulate much.

The torture doesn’t last long because a video appears in your chat along with more texts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy shit [12:44 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re so hot

Kim Mingyu🤢: god that should be my hand

Kim Mingyu🤢: [video] [12:45 pm]

As soon as you press play you’re welcomed by Mingyu’s delicious moans. His cock is shiny with pre cum all over it, now angry red. He moans at every pump and you feel yourself getting wetter.

Unexpectedly, he also speaks: “I’m so close" his voice is hoarse and deep like you’ve never heard before, “I wish this was your hand, shit only imagining makes me almost cum" and finally, “please… tell me I can cum… can I cum?”

You never expected the big buff Kim Mingyu to be so needy, it just makes you hornier if that’s even possible.

You: you’re so needy baby [12:47 am]

You: I’m close too

You: been edging myself waiting for you

Kim Mingyu🤢: shit baby don’t say stuff like that [12:48 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: im about to burst

You: want to cum big boy?

Kim Mingyu🤢: pleeasee

You: look who’s begging now

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t play with me right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re just as desperate as me

Kim Mingyu🤢: use three fingers for me and cum baby [12:49 am]

You don’t need to be told twice. You press record and insert three fingers into your cunt. You’re so wet they just slide in and you let out a long moan, increasing your speed at every thrust. It’s not long until you’re shaking and cumming all over your hand and bed.

But you don’t end the video there. You grab your phone and film your face as you suck your fingers clean while staring at the camera lense.

You: [video.] [12:51 am]

You: your turn to cum baby

As you wait for him, you go clean yourself up and grab new sheets for the bed.

Kim Mingyu🤢: [video] [12:53]

You press play and the sight of his hand is rapidly stoking his hard dick welcomes you, no more than five strokes after the video starts he lets out a long ground and is cumming all over his abs.

Kim Mingyu🤢: that was [12:54]

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy shit

Kim Mingyu🤢: I never came so fast in my life

You: embarrassingly me neither

The conversations stills for a few minutes, even though it feels like hours. What do you say after sexting with someone you supposedly hate?

You: I guess I’ll see you on saturday [01:03 am]

You're left on read a few more minutes, and you wonder if he already regrets this.

Kim Mingyu🤢: yeah right [01:06 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’ll send everyone what hour to come by to prepare everything

Kim Mingyu🤢: see you then

It’s so awkward that you don’t send anything after.

You don’t regret it, but you do fear what’s going to happen.

Note: sorry if the ending it’s a little sudden, I don’t know how to finish this but I do want to write a part two 😉

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

You all have cast your votes and I have received multiple requests for this analysis so come get your present…the wait is finally over!!!

Disclaimer: This analysis is for delusional purposes only. Think about it. Write about it. Have hard thoughts, don’t take it too seriously. 18+

I am using traditional astrology and I am interpreting Lee Know’s house placements as if he is a Gemini Rising, it’s unconfirmed if that is his Rising Sign but it most likely is. 

Word Count: 930

I'm in love with you and all these little things...

Lee Know as a boyfriend is the type who’s heart burns brightly but his love shines quietly and his patient and ‘slow-burn’ approach to love is what makes him a beautiful partner for someone who is a late bloomer. 

There wouldn’t be a lavish outburst of love and affection but instead he loves with his presence, that’s the beautiful part about having a Scorpio Venus is when they love you, you can feel that enduring love and presence by simply having him next to you. 

When you’re sitting next to him on the couch…you’ll feel his love…when you’re in public and he lightly touches your wrist…you’ll feel his love…when he’s spooning you in the early hours of the morning…you’re going to feel his love. 

And when I say Lee Know has a ‘slow-burn’ approach to love…I mean it’s a SLOW-BURN approach and he’d be the type to yearn for you for months before even offering a hint of affection because his Scorpio Mercury makes him prone to over-thinking and over-analysing all your interactions with him. 

He’s the type to ask you out by stating along the lines of…’I have liked you for a long time now and I’ve been trying to show you but you haven’t figured it out and so now I need to tell you’...to which you’d probably say ‘You like me? I thought you were just being friendly’ to which he’d probably say…’I have been trying to flirt with you for the past year now’. 

Lee Know masks very well so he’ll probably come off as cool and collected when deep down, he’s all jittery and nervous with excitement because he has thought of every possible outcome of how this situation could end. 

(I’m playing Spotify and Little Things by One Direction just started playing and it’s perfect because it’s so Lee Know coded- it really is the little things with him). 

When you tell him you don’t have much experience or have never been in a relationship, he won’t be discouraged but instead will cherish the connection more because his Sagittarius Moon means he values honesty and transparency.

You have felt that he is important and caring enough to reveal this information too so therefore he'll do his best to keep reassuring you that yes, he is the right person and you made the right decision by allowing him to be your first.

The relationship would start off with timid acts of reassurance like sending you messages asking if you've eaten dinner or sending you pics of the meal he's made.

And then...maybe a month later he'll invite you to stay over in his apartment and you'll take the bed while he sleeps on the couch because Lee Know understands you have to learn to trust him, you have to learn to get used to his presence.

Lee Know's control issues indicate he doesn't like being startled so physical affection will be on his terms, he'll want to initiate the first kiss or the first make-out session because his Virgo Mars means EVERYTHING has to be perfect for the moment.

A service dom (he's a switch technically but heavy dominant preference) to the MAX!!! and a lover of body worship...

He might not be the type to gush and fawn but he'll make sure the bedroom is littered with your favourite candle that you absent-mindedly mentioned to him a few months prior that he remembered.

The corruption kink would then slowly creep it's way into Lee Know's affections for you because he can't help but get off on the idea that it's HIS hands, HIS mouth and HIS words that are marking your soul and that even if the relationship doesn't last...there's a piece of your soul that belongs to HIM, an experience you can't share with anyone else.

'Aww kitten, you're so sensitive...no one has touched you this way before? Then let's keep this all for me then'.

And once you're physically intimate with each other, then that's when Lee Know's obsessive, possessive and jealous traits might pop out because in his mind, he taught you the ways of pleasure...so why would you share that with someone else?

He moulded you for him.

'Oh kitten, you want to go out and find someone else? Then you'll have to learn all over again and you've only just started'.

Lee Know is just as passionate a lover as Bang Chan but it's more expressed through actions which is why sex is an important love language for him as well.

With his Moon in the 7th House, it would be one of the few times where he could drop the mask and just reveal all his pent-up feelings towards you.

It's why I don't view Lee Know as hard dom/sadist material at all because sex would be a way of exploring feelings that he simply just can't verbalise on a regular basis.

When he's inside of you, when he feels the heat of you on his skin and he can see the trust in your glazed eyes and see your skin shivering from his touch...he would just be filled with overwhelming gratitude that it's HIM and only HIM to see you in such a vulnerable state.

And he'd wrap his arms around you, kiss your forehead and gaze lovingly into your eyes as he shows you the REAL Lee Know.

'My sweet kitten, you're the only one for me...I'm the first so I have to be the last...I have too...because there's no else for me but you, there will never be anyone else but you'.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has supported me and I have gratitude and care for all my moots and followers! Thank you for your motivation and your support, I am proud of you all and I hope you have a safe and amazing New Year!!!

Taglist: @creativechaoticloner @hipster-shiz @scuzmunkie @cherry-0420 @stardragongalaxy @berryberrytan @lyramundana @craxy-person @krishastumblernow @mykryptonitelight @ddeonghwassimp @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @whatsk-poppinhomies @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @hexheathen @northerngalxy @ja3hwa @michel-angelhoe @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell

[decolonize-the-everything]

i’m curious. what is your solution instead of voting for Harris? I 100% agree with you that her/her party/the system she will work in are facist, have committed countless atrocities against their own people and others, all of it. I really do agree with you. I guess what I don’t understand is what other realistic option there is right now. Not voting for Harris or voting independent is statistically highly likely to bring about a trump presidency, which would be (of the two) expontentially more harmful for our communities here in America and across the world, including palestine.

I guess what I’m trying to get at is it’s true you can’t put the fire out from inside the house. participating in a poisoned system isn’t going to be the cure. But is there really a realistic way to get outside of the house? Is there really a way to secure funding, land, and resources for sustainable practices entirely separate from the colonial state we live in? And would putting effort toward those methods bring about more peace and freedom to marginalized communities - including those in Palestine, India, Bangladesh, Sudan, and countless others, than working with the cards the system gave us? Or at least, not working against them? Global politics govern our lives whether we want them to or not. I don’t think it’s possible to separate our situation from that, nor from our nation’s political system. I feel it is nigh impossible to attempt any sort of reform without working with the colonial state, as horrible as it may be.

Would love to hear your thoughts. I’ve read many of your posts and am just curious as to your direct response to this question - I do not intend to take away from all the other work you’ve done in attempting to educate and establish your point. Thank you for your time and I wish you health.

You are ready to go Offline it seems. I think a lot of people are honestly. A lot of people seem stuck on voting being the option with no clue for what else to do.

And since you are asking in good faith, I'll answer in good faith.

You are asking all of the right questions. So much that I can not answer this ask in detail. You'll have to seek out more specific information yourself. I can really only point you in the right direction.

That said let me run through what I can say in bullet points rq.

All of this is very rough and vague. that's intended. You gotta find the step by step guides on your own.

There's no guarantee kamala will win and so you shouldn't conduct yourself as if her winning is relevant to fighting fascism. Likewise, her losing shouldn't be seen as a crushing defeat, long term it means nothing.

Is there away to get outside the house? Yeah. The Black Panthers were experts at this and there is no shortage of literature, podcasts, and analysis about their work for you to learn from. It's why they were so dangerous. They were efficiently and quickly building an entirely new system that didn't need capitalism, cops, or politicians to function

This bullet point is also about the Black Panthers like I really want to drill it in that the extent of mutual aid, organization, community health, and community safety they provided was LITERALLY revolutionary and is the legitimate blueprint. Pls pls pls pls learn about their praxis. It even happened relatively modern/recent times so its truly invaluable knowledge to have for the person who wants to know what to do Right Now. Palestinian and global solidarity in general was also Very important to them. have u stressed them enough? I think I have

Build these groups of people (sometimes called pods) like branches in different areas. Expand to cross-state mutual aid networks. Those same connections/people shutting down highways, military ports, etc. Imagine the power of an organized people. That's how we as Americans will earn the trust of the global community. Putting our money where our mouths are when it comes to direct action and community care.

There's a REASON they made taking down organizations like The Black Panthers a top priority and never allowed them to get that far. The potential power they had was to topple the empire. And the state knew it.

You gotta be willing to get uncomfortable and be told you're wrong. Every time it happens itll be with love, I assure you. This next step of work requires trust and vulnerability and growth like you wouldn't believe. You will fuck up or misstep or speak over someone. Learn to take those hits to your ego and not take it personally now.

I mean it. Being online and learning is a whole different ball game than direct action/praxis. Nobody is going to coddle your hurt feelings and they won't invite you back if youre constantly just creating more labor for the people around you. They expect you to hold yourself accountable. People who do this work are very much not babysitters. It's high-key why it's it's hard for cops to infiltrate [redacted] circles

From Anarchist Direct Actions: A Challenge for Law Enforcement

That's not to say it doesn't happen. It does. Which is another reason people do not fuck around with the company they keep when it comes to offline praxis.

Here are a few books Im trying to read rn that seem relevant to this ask, if anyone else has something else/better to rec to anon, please do 💗

Also gonna link these because I can

There are no upcoming dates but linking this anyway because it's worth considering that you should train for certain kinds of direct action

[intimidating-fettuccine]

I know I don’t usually get political on here, but with recent events happening I wanted to make a post to reach as many people as I can, as a young woman in the US in this current political climate. Everyone needs to vote.

“But what if I don’t want to register because I don’t want jury duty?”

There is no guarantee you would ever be called for jury duty. I have met people in their 80s who have never been called. Even if you are called, if you tell the judges that you will be an awful juror, you won’t pay attention, you’re incredibly biased, etc. they will dismiss you. They do not want someone on the jury that would be an inconvenience to both sides. As someone who has been called but was not chosen, it is not as big of a deal as you might think it is in the grand scheme of things, and at least in my state you can only even be called once every two years. Plus, certain conditions can disqualify you from even having to show up as well.

“But what if I don’t like the democratic representative either?”

That literally does not matter in this actually life and death case, because the other choice is Donald Trump and Project 2025. If you do any research into project 2025, which no, is not just empty promises they’re trying to make, it is a plan built mostly around removing the rights of women, LGBT members, and deconstructing public education. It is a very scary document and it is one they will 100% go forward with if Trump is put into office. Whether Kamala ends up as the representative for the party or someone else does, you MUST vote blue.

“Well, why can’t we all just vote independent?”

Because they will not win. They won’t. Independents are not even always put on every bracket in every state, but even if they were there is no way that they would win the upcoming election because none of them have a big enough audience at present moment. They need time to build an audience, and they need a Blue country to be able to do so. Plus, we have the electoral college to worry about, and there’s no way in hell any of them are voting independent. In this election it is Blue or Red, and Blue is the much better choice.

“But I don’t think that Blue is going to win, so I don’t even want to bother with voting.”

That is the exact line of thinking Trump wants you to have. Trump is scared of losing! He wants you to think he’s the only winner possible, and that’s why we need to prove him wrong! Not voting at all is still a vote for Trump! We need to show up and vote, because otherwise you are just automatically saying you’re fine with letting Trump win, which is saying you’re fine with losing your own rights or your friends and your family losing their own rights. This election is not a joke this time, we cannot just let it slide this time and assume it’ll be different in four years.

“But politics stress me out and make me anxious so I don’t want to get involved in them.”/“I don’t live close enough to reach my polling station.”

That is the same as the previous one. I know this is an extremely stressful time for everyone, believe me, I’m extremely anxious about it too, but you just need to vote Blue, and show up on one specific day to vote. If you’re too anxious to physically go to polling station or you don’t live close enough, you can also do a mail in ballot, which I’ve done before! You can request one online, receive it in the mail, and send it out! No contact with any other people required. Mail in ballots are still an option and literally made for people who cannot physically show up to a polling station.

“I know all of that’s true, but again, I REALLY hate the Blue candidate.”

Well, consider this. We are not just voting for the president, we are voting for Supreme Court members. Presidents serve as of right now up to 8 years, but Supreme Court justices serve for life. Trump put on the last Supreme Court members, and I’m sure you’ve seen the horrible choices they’ve made in the sake of the Republican Party. The president is the one who chooses those members, so if you allow a Red President, you are allowing the possibility of an even more Red Supreme Court. Vote Blue not just because you are voting for the president, but because you are voting for the sake of your literal future with Supreme Court justices. Politicians have historically always sucked. When it comes to voting, it is the lesser of two evils, and when you’re picking between them, Blue is obviously the lesser of the two evils, especially when Red wants to remove as many rights as physically possible.

“What if Trump also gets removed from the running. Won’t we be okay then?”

No! Because it does not matter who the Red representative is, they are STILL going to move forward with Project 2025. Even if Trump somehow keels over and dies tomorrow or decides to drop out (which I doubt will happen), they would still make the next representative go through with Project 2025. They want this plan more than anything else in the world, and so long as there’s a possibility of a republican representative going into office there is a guarantee of them using that plan.

“But what if Project 2025 really IS just empty promises?”

It is not. I guarantee you it is not. Even if it was, do you REALLY want to take the risk? Do you REALLY want to try and play this game? When the rights of women, LGBT members, public education, and the environment are at risk, do you really want to just assume it’s not going to happen? Is it really worth it to you to play this game and assume so? I’m going to guess it is not, in fact, worth it to play this game. You NEED to fully believe that Project 2025 is actually going to happen, because it is going to happen if they win. This isn’t a fever dream we’re going to wake up from and laugh about if they win. It’s the reality of the current shithole country we live in, and this country could become far, far worse if they win.

Even if you do not live in the US, I am just asking of you to please consider reblogging this and spreading it, as there are probably Americans that will see if if you do so. If you’re even still too young to vote, people that are old enough are likely to see it. I know I’m not a huge blog, but reblogs are always important and I still want to try.

As a woman and LGBT member who does not want to lose her rights, I am asking for you to please read and spread this post. Even if I can just reach one person who will care, it can be a great help. They do not want us to unionize and vote against them, but that is exactly what we must do. Regardless of how you feel about the Blue party, you have to vote for them this year, it’s the only thing we can do.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Chapter 2: Part 1

Word Count: 1.3k

-----

After the performances—an odd mix where the main band yielded the stage to a poet or an accordionist when they needed a break—Jazz and Todd continued to mingle.

Jazz waited until about fifteen minutes had passed before reaching into her bag to search for her phone. “Todd!” she cried.

“Jazz? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my phone! Shit, what time is it?”

Todd pulled out his. “Eleven fifty. Did you have it when we arrived?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t checked it. Where could it have gone?”

One of the other attendees broke into the conversation. “Lost your phone? What does it look like? We can help you look.” She was a woman in her forties or fifties. Next to her was another woman who nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, that’d be great.” It didn’t take much effort to bring tears to her eyes—all she had to do was remember that Danny was still missing. “It’s a Samsung in an unfortunately standard black case. The lock screen has picture of and my brother. My name’s Jazz, by the way. And this is Todd.”

“I’m Mel and this is my wife Jayden. I’m sure we’ll find your phone soon enough.” Then, in a voice loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Oi! Anyone see an unattended phone lying around? Jazz here misplaced hers?”

Even Mel, though, had to admit defeat after half an hour of searching through the entire apartment yielded nothing.

Jazz sat down on the floor and let herself cry. “And by now we’ve missed the last train. I’m sorry, Todd. What a disaster.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. Tonight’s been a blast. This sucks for sure, but I can get us an uber or something—”

“How far are you kids going?” asked Jayden.

“Too far,” cried Jazz. “I live out of the city. Parked at Alewife and took the red line in.”

Jayden winced. “Well, we parked nearby. Is there somewhere close we can drive you?”

Jazz blinked up at them. “You’d do that?” She turned to Todd. “I just want to go to sleep. Is there a motel nearby we could stay at?”

Todd pulled out his phone and searched. “Looks like there’s a Holiday inn just down the street or a La Quinta that’s a little cheaper just a bit further out.” He smiled ruefully at the women who’d been helping them. “If you could get us to either place, we’d be more than grateful.”

One of the residents, an older man named Rob, took a seat next to them. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your email? We can contact you if anyone finds it.”

Jazz smiled at him gratefully and gave it. If it wasn’t so necessary, she’d feel bad for lying to and worrying all these people. But they were in so much danger. To the women, she said, “Would the La Quinta be too far out of the way? If I end up having to get a new phone, I’d like to save as much money as possible. Thank God I still have my wallet.”

“Sweetie, it’s totally fine,” assured Mel. “We’d take you all the way home if we didn’t live on the opposite side of the city.”

“Thank you, but that’s really okay. I just want to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow.”

“Come on, dear.” Mel reached out a hand to help Jazz up. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll be on our way.”

Jazz thanked Rob for his help before Mel led her towards the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.

Less than forty minutes later, Todd and Jazz were alone in a hotel room together. She pulled the blinds shut and finally let herself relax.

When she turned back to the room, Todd was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Want to explain to me what all of”—he threw out his hands—“that was about?”

Jazz glared back at him. “You didn’t tell me you died! Damn it, if I’d known in advance—!” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”

Todd was deadly still. “How do you know that?”

Jazz threw her hands in the air. “It’s obvious to anyone who knows how to tell. Including the Guys in White who I told you are dangerous to ghosts and liminals! I had plans for what I’d say when they found us, but those won’t work if you’re dead!”

“Wait.” Todd held up his hands. “You’re saying I can be persecuted under those Anti-Ecto acts?”

“Yes! You’re more ghostly than me, and I am watched every minute of every day.”

Todd narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Have you heard of Lazarus Water or had any dealings with the League of Assassins?”

“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about. Quit changing the subject. My brother is the only thing that matters and you and Red Robin promised to help me find him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jason’s eyes flashed green, and Jazz glared right back at him. “The League of Assassins are the ones who brought me back to life with Lazarus Water. I need to know if you and your brother are mixed up with them because that would change our approach. If it’s a rogue government agency, that’s one thing. If it’s also the league, we’ve got a whole set of other problems.”

Jazz sat down heavily on one of the bed. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t— It’s been a long few months. After a long few years.”

Todd sat down across from her and nodded for her to continue. “Tell me what happened.”

“It started three years ago. My parents, they’re ghost hunters. Been building weapons to detect and hunt ghosts since before I was born. But three years ago is when they finally finished their life’s work: the ghost portal. Only it didn’t work at first. Then my brother Danny and his friends decided to be stupid. They went to check it out. I wasn’t there and the three of them don’t talk about it, but something happened down there that day.

“My brother died and the portal was working. Only, he didn’t die all the way. He became half-ghost, half-human. And that would have been bad enough, but with the portal open, ghosts came through from the Infinite Realms, sometimes called the Ghost Zone by humans. Some were benign, but many of them came to cause problems or hurt people. Danny stopped them.”

Todd held up a hand to stop her. “Your brother became a supehero? How didn’t the Justice League hear about this? How old was he?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know about the Justice League. It could be that no one ever contacted them. It could be they didn’t believe us. And it could be that no one cared. Danny felt responsible though, since it was his fault the portal turned on. And he was the only one with the ability to stop the ghosts, so…” She held up her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

Todd closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. “I can guarantee you the JL didn’t know about your town. A fourteen-year-old would never have been left alone to monitor an interdimensional portal if we had.”

Jazz had no idea what she thought of that. Danny had done it all alone. So finding out he could have had help? She shook her head. What-ifs were a waste of time. “Well, he did. But the government didn’t like that a ghost was the main defense against ghosts. So the Ghost Investigation Ward, more commonly called the Guys in White or GIW was formed. At first, they were as incompetent as any other ghost hunter. But they didn’t stay that way.”

“What happened to your brother, Jazz?” asked Todd.

-----

Next

Sorry to end it there. But it's the right length and I need to go to bed. XP

Hope you enjoy!

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

Not much to say about this one. When I went to the event at this location, my friend and I very nearly missed the last train. It was pulling into the station as we entered. If we'd been 2 or 3 minutes later, we would've been stranded so far from my car, I don't even want to know what that uber or cab would've cost.

Luckily Jazz and Jason had a few good Samaritans nearby.

Next up: We learn more about what happened to Danny!

[bobbin-buckley]

Jenna Ortega Headcanons

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff and smut

~~~~~~~~~~

SFW

-You both freaking love to cuddle. While sleeping, watching a movie, reading a book etc. you both find comfort in being in each others arms. If you need to get up for bathroom or water good luck girly cause she ain’t letting you go

-She can’t help but admire everything you do, even if it’s just you reading a book she’s so head over heels for you

-Loves to be kissed on her cheek, cause that’s where her dimples are. She’ll smile wide when you kiss her there, she claims it tickles so you continue to do it

-If you do a sport or are in band she comes to every game/concert she possibly can (if she’s not busy). If you write books she gets to help you or gets sneak peak of what you’re writing annnnnd gets to be the first person to read it

-If you don’t know how to cook she’ll teach you, (this girl makes amazing meals). There was one time you helped her cook something but you almost burnt the house down so she banned you from the kitchen.

-^^If you can cook she’s always willing to help and eat whatever you make! And tells you how amazing it is

-When she’s gone for acting she’ll call/facetime you every night.

-Jasmine and Melissa tease her about how she’s so in love with you

-Horror Movie marathons every Friday night. (If you hate horror movies you can hide in her chest or the crook of her neck)

-Comes home with your favorite food whenever she’s out

-At this point you both share the same clothes cause you love stealing each others

-The both of you can’t live without music, so you’ll share earbuds when listening to music together

-Has really good music taste

-You watch all her movies (especially when you miss her on the days she’s acting)

-She always mentions you in an interview

-She loves you so so so so much

-You always happen catching her staring at you with those eyes (that lovey dovey look)

NSFW

-A switch but prefers to be top, loves to dominate you

-Likes vanilla sex but adds a little roughness to it (if you’d like)

-Has a pretty high praise kink, receiving or giving either works for her

“You’re such a good girl, taking my fingers so we’ll”

“I wanna see that pretty face when you cum..”

“Fuck darling, making a mess all over me”

“That’s it, let go..let go for me baby”

-It drives her crazy when you moan her name

-Praises your body every time you have sex and always asks for consent

“You have such a pretty body for a pretty girl, so beautiful darling…”

“I’m so obsessed with these thighs, so pretty..so kissable..”

“This okay?”

“Are you positive that you want this hunny?”

-Loves to experiment, if you’re up for it! Has a full box of toys she uses on you, to figure out what you like

-She has strap-on dildos to vibrators

-But boy does she love using the strap-on she owns, she has various sizes of dildos. She goes from smallest to biggest, longest to shortest and thickest to less thick

“Hmp…god..you feel so good baby and you look so cute taking my strap. Good girl..yes cum for me, cum all over this fucking cock”

-Loves to cover you in hickies, she wants everyone to know your hers.

-After sex is so gentle with her, she rubs your sore body before taking you to the bathroom to take a bath then get rest after.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First headcanons! I think I’ll have people take a vote when I post it!

[kazelvr]

☆ CUDDLES WITH PROSEKA BOYS

- hi pjsk tumblr !! it’s been.. a while…. i was a old pjsk writer in november 2022 -> february 2023, my user was kazelvr and my name is MEI !!!!! i deleted my account though.. um if we were mutuals pls lmk !!1!1!1

- gender neutral reader , if you’re that person with the emu otori avatar who voted me out on total roblox drama i just want you to know i will find you. i’m lurking and i’m stalking.

pancake lover 5000

cuddles with akito are warm, but they’re still nice. not that you mind, considering he’s your boyfriend and all. his 50 layers of so called ‘drip’ may have you overheating, but you’re not really complaining, especially when he’s not letting you escape from his arms anytime soon. maybe dying of a heat stroke while cuddling him is the best way to go. besides, there’s no place you rather be.

cuddles with akito are frequent. maybe a bit too frequent. even after a long day of practicing or after a bad day, nothing is more comforting than being held in his arms. even when you’re sick, this boy finds every excuse possible to hold you. and as much as he’d rather die than to say it out loud, it’s obvious he loves cuddling with you.

cuddles with akito are always inescapable. his grip on you is always so strong, like he never wants to let go. he holds you close and tight and will not loosen his embrace no matter how much you squirm or how loudly you protest. even if you shift a little bit, he pulls you even closer to him. he’s practically crushing you with his grip. once you’re in his arms, there’s literally no escape.

he’s literally my son

i’m gonna be a star - nayeon

cuddles with tsukasa are chattery. he rambles to you about his day while he holds you, but somehow he manages to keep his volume low so it doesn’t bother you that much. but, if you wanted peace, he’ll shut up right away, and only focus on holding you.

cuddles with tsukasa are unexpectedly relaxing. when he does stop talking, he can be surprisingly tender. hell often rub your back in circular motions while resting his head on top of yours. you can feel his chin digging in your head though.

cuddles with tsukasa are playful. when you both can’t sleep, he tickles you most of the time. this can possibly lead to many situations such as ‘accidentally’ kicking him off the bed.

funny thing is i saw twice in new jersey so this reminded me of him lmao(i almost died trying to leave the concert.)

coffee’s biggest fan

cuddles with toya are comforting. most of the time, when you’re fast asleep, he will trace shapes on your back. his hand softly strokes your hair while the other rests on your waist. he holds you like his life depended on it.

cuddles with toya are quiet. not even a word comes out of him. but of course if you talked, he’ll respond. unless if he’s really tired, it would just be short and quiet responses coming from him. he’ll stay up the whole night while cuddling you if it meant talking to you more.

cuddles with toya are sweet. he never goes to sleep without assuring you that he loves you, and always makes sure that you’re asleep before he does so. he’s a real gentleman; he holds you gently to his chest and never lets go—just your presence makes him feel better and fall asleep faster.

vegetables suck!

cuddles with rui are gentle and intimate. rui loves being close to you, and wraps himself around you tightly. he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and nuzzles your neck, taking small breaths and sighing in contentment.

cuddles with rui are heart-warming. the way he holds you in his arms, the softness of his skin and hair, and the peaceful expression on his face is intoxicating. it’s a moment where all stress of life melts away, and you can be in the moment for a while.

cuddles with rui are soothing. his presence is already a comfort itself, but when he hums while cuddling it just amplified the peace and warmth of his embrace. it feels like a lullaby that will send you to sleep immediately,. but with the gentle rythym with his voice, you don’t want to fall asleep. you just want to be with him.

[digitaldiarystuff]

Worst Mistake

omg hi! thank you so much for all the votes on the poll it helps me and also, i think this’ll be a long story so i want to divide it to parts if you guys enjoy it i’ll continue so please leave likes and comments as much as you can🥹💕

————

pairing: Jude Bellingham x Y/N

summary: Jude was a close friend of your boyfriend, so you meet him. What’s the worst thing that could happen right?

genre: i think a bit of everything

————

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Everything in your life was in place, you were in a happy and calm state, your job and your relationship were going well until he came along: Jude Bellingham. Jude was a close friend of your boyfriend Zack and the two occasionally facetimed or called which you knew about but you’ve never met because you were in Madrid whilst he played for Dortmund. Last summer you were supposed to go on a vacation with their friends but you had a family emergency that you had to attend and you didn’t mind at all. You were happy that Zack could get some time off with his mates and you didn’t think much about missing your chance to meet his friends but as soon as september rolled around, Zack came to you with good news.

“Jude’s signing for Real Madrid!” he happily exclaimed one day and you just shrugged, you didn’t care much about football even though you watched games with your boyfriend and family often.

And just like that, Jude came into your life. When you first laid eyes on him, you quickly realized photos weren’t doing him any favors. He was much more handsome in person but you tried shrugging the tingly feeling when you made eye contact because it was beyond inappropriate.

He first came to your shared house like the second day he landed in Madrid to spend some time with Zack before trainings start. He politely smiled and shook your hand as Zack introduced you to each other.

“Y/N, this is Jude. My best friend from childhood and this is Y/N, my lovely girlfriend.”

You smiled in return shaking his hand but you couldn’t understand why you suddenly started sweating. Your hands felt clammy and you found yourself hoping he didn’t notice but why was this important? You were just the girlfriend of his friend anyway. You three then sat down to have lunch, Zack told you all he knew about Jude’s diet and you tried to make something in regard to it.

“Everything looks amazing.” Jude said when you and Zack were trying to carry plates in.

“Y/N did everything, she also tried to make them as healthy as possible for you.”

The way Zack was talking about you made you feel even worse if that’s possible but Jude’s eyes on you made you feel zoned out.

“I can’t believe you put this much effort thank you so much Y/N” he said with a genuine smile and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest with his mention of your name.

You were never like this, you never once thought about being unfaithful because Zack was everything you were looking for. He was the perfect gentleman and you couldn’t ask for more. You loved him with all your heart so why was this man saying just your name had this effect on you?

“It was nothing, really.” you tried to cut short hoping they would dive into a conversation you didn’t have to take part in but every time Zack was talking about something you weren’t into, Jude brought the subject to you asking you your opinion. Any other day, you’d feel welcome and happy about your boyfriend’s friend’s behavior but not today.

Throughout the meal, your mind did things you couldn’t even register. You found yourself staring at Jude more than once, you even focused on his biceps flexing as he held the fork to put it into his mouth but everything you did made you feel ashamed of yourself so you quickly ate and excused yourself to wash some dishes in the kitchen even though you had a perfectly functioning dishwasher.

“Where can I put these?” Jude asked from behind you and you almost dropped the plate from your hands.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he said while you tried to catch your breath.

“It’s okay.” you smiled without looking at him. “You can put them over there, I’ll clean em.”

You turned around trying to continue but his presence didn’t leave the room.

“I can help.” he said while walking over and started rinsing the dishes you put in the sink and you smelled his scent which was so sharp but manly. That scent was intoxicating for sure, there had to be a chemical in there that made you high.

“Jude you really don’t have to.” stand here with me with nearly no space between us, you wanted to say but held your tongue.

“You cooked an amazing lunch for me, I can help with the dishes with no problem.” he turned to you smiling but you couldn’t face him, there was less then 50 centimeters between you guys and this was wrong but then something much worse happened. He slowly reached over and took a strand of your hair out of your cheek and his touch on your face and neck felt like being electrocuted. You instantly looked up at him and he was already staring into your eyes. You knew you should’ve looked away, this eye contact was going on for so long but you felt like time had stopped at that moment. His hand still touching on your neck holding the small strand of hair and his dark eyes staring into your soul, you just couldn’t and so couldn’t he. He was looking at you like he was trying to memorize your face with so much intensity but the moment came to a halt when you heard footsteps outside of the kitchen. He quickly left your hair and you turned back to your dishes as Zack walked in.

“You really shouldn’t, you’re the guest man. Just go sit in the living room and I’ll help Y/N clean up.” he said to Jude and Jude obeyed without any words. He left you in the room with Zack and your conscience.

After the cleanup was done, you told Zack he should spend time with Jude and you’d leave them to it and just be in your room but all you wanted to do was cry your eyes out. This infatuation was wrong.

You were slowly becoming sleepy when the door opened and unfortunately, it wasn’t Zack.

“Oh I’m sorry, I thought this was the guest room. Zack said I could use its bathroom.” he quickly explained.

“No worries, let me walk you to it.” you got up and Jude started following you like a lost puppy.

“Where’s Zack anyway?” you asked.

“He had to go to the office for some last minute work stuff.”

Oh shit, you thought.

“And I’ll be on my way to the hotel in a minute don’t worry.”

“Hotel?” you asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t have time to find a place yet so I’ll be staying at a hotel for a while.”

You were going to strongly hate your next move in the future.

“I actually work at a real estate company who deals with A list celebrities and business people, we make 3D designs of every estate we currently have. If you’d like I can show you a couple of houses.” you offered, you knew you should’ve kept your mouth shut but this was helping a friend out and nothing more.

Jude’s face lit up immediately.

“I mean, if it’s okay with you…” he trailed off

“Of course.” you smiled and showed him the bathroom then you went into your office to pull up the drawings you had for houses that’d be a fit for Jude.

He came rather quickly and was standing up right behind you.

“Oh, let me get a chair for you.” you said standing up but he put his hands on your shoulders.

“Let me get it, it’s the least I can do.” he smiled and pulled the extra chair over to your desk. You didn’t realize but you were once again lost in him, examining his every move until he sat down.

You spent the next 20 minutes going through possible options, he really valued your opinion and told you time and time again he trusted your guidance but being this close proximity with him has made you go a little dumb.

“And we have this one. I think this is a good option, it has 4 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms. I mean I love this one because it feels homey if you know what I mean, I think this is one of the best in Madrid. I personally would go for this.” you explained focusing on the screen telling him about your favorite house listing but Jude’s eyes were focused on you. He was very intrigued by the manner you talked about something you love. You could feel his burning gaze and tried your hardest not to look back. He leaned in close and turned his head to the home you were showing. He held his hand up to the screen and asked about something but his arm was in front of you so you lost all focus.

“Huh?” you suddenly came back to your senses and turned to him as he also turned to look at you. It was happening again, he was all you could see and he evaded your mind like nothing ever had. You didn’t realize how close you were sitting but there was around 10 centimeters between you. He was looking to your eyes until his eyes shifted to your lips and you instinctively licked them as you were suddenly feeling dehydrated. He loudly gulped and it was your turn to look at his adam’s apple. The tension between you was undeniable and you could both feel it in your core.

You didn’t even know it but he was slowly moving forward, he didn’t mean to it just happened.

“Y/N” he said just above a whisper. You couldn’t say anything back just waited there but as your noses touched, you got out of your trance and pulled back abruptly.

He also pulled himself together and you both strictly looked forward not daring looking at each other’s eyes.

He then got up from his chair.

“Um, thank you for everything. I think I should go now, I have somewhere to be but I’ll keep the houses in mind. Thank you.”

You couldn’t even reply back and just watched him escape the room and soon, you heard the front door slam.

Could you just avoided the worst mistake ever?

————

omg i got so carried away i can’t believe!! i thought this was going to be hard but i don’t think so anymore hope you enjoy please leave any comment that helps me a lot💕

[qqueenofhades]

I completely understand if you don’t feel comfortable answering this, but my mind is spiraling out of control and you’re the only person I know with the level of knowledge to where I can feel comfortable asking this without getting some form of “bla bla we live in a safe state don’t worry.”

I’m sincerely wondering if I need to be making plans to leave the country in the event of November bringing the most horrible of outcomes despite our best efforts (and yes I’m planning to vote blue in everything I can); as a AFAB in CA?

I know about project 2025. I’m terrified. Forgive my pop culture reference, but I feel like a version of Princess Zelda staring down a barrel of possible doom while everyone around me is like “nah that future you literally had a nightmare about where they made it illegal for a woman to have a bank account without a guy co-signing it and took the money from everyone who didn’t comply by a certain date isn’t even a possibility!”

I’m just confused about my life and am trying to take it day by day, and exercising every right while I still have it to prevent this outcome, but it feels weird making plans and retirement accounts and just general Setting Up Adult Life And Future Things™️……while wondering if I even have a future in this place at all and I’m just making it harder to escape if need be.

I’m sorry I’m rambling, and I guess I don’t know what I’m asking since no one has a crystal ball.

But I guess, it’s stuff like how much can the feds effect state’s policies? Is it possible for them to immediately block international travel for all women practically upon inauguration? How much time would I even have to gtfo if the worst begins?

Bc honestly this whole thing feels like the lead in to a very nasty chapter of a history book, and even though I have hope we’ll have another blue tsunami, it can be hard to try and figure things out when it feels like there’s barely any historical precedent for any of it.

Welp. Okay. First of all, I am giving you a comforting hug, I am walking with you to your favorite coffee shop, I am paying for your favorite beverage and also a baked goodie of your choice, and we are sitting down in a corner where we can talk honestly. So that's where I want you to imagine us having this conversation.

To start with, yes, I completely understand this feeling of utter, paralyzing doom, where I am trying to go about my daily life and make plans for my career and carry out daily tasks and Be Responsible while there's still just this total void beyond the end of the year, the utter impossibility of knowing if we will have dodged an absolutely massive bullet and finally be safe (since if Trump loses again he is 100% going to jail in the next four years) or, well. You know. That is a very hard way to live, when you're wondering if anything is going to matter and you can't see beyond that black cloud of fear on the horizon. It sucks you down and tells you that nothing is worth doing now in case it just gets so much worse. I am not going to tell you not to feel that. We all do. We are all scared. That in and of itself is a perfectly normal way to feel.

However, there are things you can do both now and if (I repeat, if) God absolutely forbid, the worst was to happen (again). First of all, we have already lived through a Trump presidency once. It was terrible and scary and awful and demoralizing as fuck, but we can do it again if we absolutely Goddamn fucking have to (once, again, God forbid). Second, you are currently about as safe as you could be in California. Newsom has proven himself to be smart, tough, able to run rings around Republicans, and unwilling to comply with their stupid performative-cruelty directives. He's not a saint or a magician, but you don't need that; you need a shrewd politician able to fight back, and he has proven himself willing and capable of doing that. So as long as he is governor, you're going to be more safe than not, and I'd also like to ask all the shrieking Online Leftists if, should the shit go down, they would rather live in a state with a Democratic governor who will fight Trump 2.0 every step of the way, or a Republican governor who will just roll over and obey. (But that would destroy their BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME talking point, so you know.)

Next of all, even if the Republicans are doing their best impression, America in 2024 isn't Germany in 1934. There are different tools, different ways to fight back, and different awarenesses/social media/visibility factors. I also need everyone to remember that just as Biden can't just sign an executive order and fix everything everywhere, Trump can't just sign an executive order and fuck everything everywhere, just like that with no more discussion ever. He tried that last time, it generally didn't work, and trust me, at least this time nobody is sleeping on the danger he poses. His candidacy in 2016 was dismissed as a long-shot joke that nobody took seriously until it was too late, and for better or worse, people aren't doing that this time. He will be sued instantly, incredibly, and repeatedly with everything his band of wannabe fascists try, and since we have had four years of Biden fixing the courts from where Trump trashed them, that does mean something. There is no scenario where even if he does issue some outrageous order against women, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, etc (which to be clear, I'm sure he would try) it would just be carried out completely, immediately, and with no feasible way to stop it. Evil is evil, but it is also stupid, clueless, determined to hurt people just for the hell of it without any regard for what is possible or which will be allowed, and there's a lot more grey area in there than just "Trump says something terrible and it's instantly done, the end."

Once again, I'm not going to say that the worst-case scenario is not possible, but I don't think it's likely, and even if that does happen, there are ways for us to survive and fight back (again). Nobody wants it and it should not have to be asked of us due to the utter collapse of the social, civic, political, and intellectual fabric of this country thanks to the TrumpCult, but once again... these people are so loud and dangerous and cruel and stupid because they are in the minority. Etc. etc. polls are garbage, but we did just have an interesting piece of empirical data from the Iowa caucuses. Trump -- in one of the whitest, most rural, most conservative, most religious, most Trump-loving states in the country -- struggled to break 50%. Almost half of a rabid Republican fully-Trumpized electorate, among the diehards sufficiently motivated to get out and caucus in extreme freezing weather, voted for someone else (Haley and DeSantis took about 20% apiece). Now, no, we don't know how that will translate to the general election, and if registered Republicans will flock back to the nominee even if it's Trump, but as almost half of Haley voters said they would vote for Biden if it was a Biden-Trump matchup in the general, there is some sense that Trump is an aberration to their otherwise ironclad party loyalty. Now, Republicans are the fucking worst and nobody should be relying on them to save us; we still need to get out and vote for Democrats with all our might. But Trump is no longer barn-burningly popular even in core Trump heartland, and it'll be interesting to see how things go in future primaries.

My point is: I know the feeling that evil is awful and unstoppable and all-powerful, and will crush our lives and our futures no matter what we do to resist it. I really, really do. But Trump is a terrible candidate, he's running literally only to keep himself out of a long, long prison sentence, and if he had crushed the Iowa caucuses regardless, we might be having a different conversation. However, we need to remember that it is possible, again (God forbid) in the worst scenario, to resist, to live, and to win. Everyone who is motivated to work for a better world will still be here. Everyone who can help you and all of us will still be here. And there are more of us than there are of them. Yes, I do understand the feeling that we need to have contingency plans in place, I do absolutely know that it could get very bad, and all that (as you say, nobody has a crystal ball). But for now, I want you to take a deep breath, try to take this day by day, and remember that this is not a crushing and inevitable future that will sweep over you and destroy you without you (or any other person of good will) having a say in the matter. You still have agency, you still have the ability to protect yourself, and you still have others who will protect you in turn. You're not alone. The bad guys want you to think that, because when you're isolated and terrorized, you're easier to pick off and/or recruit into their cult. But you're not.

In conclusion: "What are we holding onto, Sam?"

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3 14 - Tav's Night

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 14 (Tav's Night): Your first night in the Underdark. You catch Tav sneaking back into camp, and he finds out you're more injured than you let on.

Astarion's Night

Gales Night

Word count: 1.8K

A/N: Thank you all for your patience while I was on hiatus!!! <3. Since you all voted for Tav to have the first part, here he is! His ended up being kinda sad >.> but I'm looking forward to developing his character/background more.

You get a blissful couple hours of sleep before your eyes open and refuse to close.  The only comfortable position you could find with your bruises was on your side, but now there’s no position that gives you any relief.  Finally you sit up, wondering just how bad your back looks for it to ache so much.  You would give all your gold for an aspirin right now.

It’s too dark in your tent to check your wounds.  Even if you use your staff the light won’t be enough to tell the difference between the shadows and the bruises.  With the camp quiet you step out of your tent and into the firelight.  The braziers are still going, flames a little smaller now but giving off plenty of light.

The first few nights you’d been too scared to take off any of your clothing to sleep.  Your jacket, socks, boots, everything had stayed on.  But you’ve grown comfortable enough to take some of it off.  You walk on the balls of your feet to get to a brazier, enchanted socks whisking away the dirt as fast as it touches them.  Those, your loose pants and untucked tunic are all that protect you from possible attack.  You’ll be fine within the base, surrounded by weirdly overprotective barbarians and Scratch.  The dog lifts his head when he spots you, tail wagging but he remains laying by the campfire.  You hold up a finger to your lips and he sets his head back on his paws, eyes closing.  His tail gives a couple more wags before settling.

It’s hard to manoeuvre your body well enough to see all of your injuries.  You can see the dark blue bruise on the right of your hip, which wraps around to your back, the edges fading to lighter colours.  There’s an equally dark bruise on the right side of your ribs—had you been jabbed there?  Between the goblins' pikes and a couple of falls you’re not sure who is to blame for what bruise.  But those ones aren’t the ones bothering you the most.  The ones in the middle of your back are what keep you from a comfortable sleep and you can’t see them at all. 

You poke at the bruise on the right of your ribcage when a voice startles you.  “You’re still injured.”

You whirl to find Tav crawling through the side exit that leads to the Spectator.  Though there’s no sign of injury on his person your heart skips at the possibility of him going into that fight alone.  You notice part of his casual clothing is scorched.

“What happened?”

“Apparently some of those mushrooms explode,” he admits with a smile.  He jumps down to your level and starts to approach but quickly steps back.  His tail lowers, nearly wrapping around his leg as the tip draws circles in the dust.  

“What’s wrong?” you ask.  

“Are you mad at me?”  He keeps his eyes on the floor but glances up at you to ask the question.  “I’m sorry about Astarion.  With the Gur and then…earlier.”

You grind your teeth together, remembering the blood on your hands.  “I’m not mad anymore.”

It’s a half truth.  Some part of you still simmers with anger but it’s directed at yourself more than Tav.  And after everything he’s done for you…

“I’m sorry about before, too.”

You meet his wavering gaze.  “About what?”

“At the hag's house,” he says.  “When I tried to stop you.”

“Why would you be sorry about that?”  He was trying to help you, hardly something to apologize for.  Especially considering the very life and death dangers out there.

“I thought maybe…”  His eyes scan the ground like he’d find the answer there.  “I thought maybe I was annoying you.  That’s…usually what I’m told.”

You tilt your head as you contemplate his words.  With the way he runs around, gets in people’s faces, and takes the lead you could see how that might annoy someone in normal circumstances.  Anger flares in your chest at the thought of someone calling Tav annoying, almost the same as you felt when you’d killed the Gur.  You tell yourself to calm down—there’s plenty of dead around to accidentally raise…

“Who told you that?” you ask.  Shadowheart?  Astarion?  

Tav thinks for a moment.  “Just people.”

You frown.  “You’re not annoying.  I’m not annoyed by you.  And I’m not mad anymore.”

Relief floods his face and he lights up.  He rushes you before you can stop him, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you off the ground in a bruising hug.  If you weren’t so bruised already, anyway.   Tav gives you a spin so you wrap your arms around his neck for stability.

When he completes another circle the bruises on your back are screaming.  You say, “Injured!  Still kinda hurt!”

Tav quickly lets you go.  “Right, sorry!”

Despite his words, he has a wide smile on his face.  You take careful breaths, debating on how to hobble back to your tent.  Maybe Scratch can drag you…

“I can help,” Tav announces.  He grabs your hand and pulls you into his tent in front of the statue of Selune.  He’s left a small lamp burning inside, giving the area a warm glow.  He’s as messy as one might expect, considering he fell off the ship without anything but his clothes.  But the bits and bobbles he’s picked up on the journey so far decorate the area, from dishware to colourful rocks to what appears to be a lineup of well-chewed balls stolen from Scratch.

Tav darts around the tent and shoves a few random items off of his bedroll, waving for you to lie down.  You sit as instructed while he rummages through a nearby bag.  When he finally finds what he’s searching for and holds a small tin in the air triumphantly.  He turns back to you, opening the and scooping out a blue gel.  “Take your shirt off.”

Your brow furrows.  “Pardon?”

“It’s a healing ointment,” he says, “it’ll numb the pain.”

“Oh, well…maybe just my back.”  You turn and lie on your stomach, lifting your tunic until your bruises show.  Shockingly, Tav is silent.  

The ointment is cold against your skin.  Tav is gentle as he rubs it in and announces when he’s done.  You lower your shirt and sit back up, the pain wonderfully numbed.

“What are you doing?” you ask.  Tav is sitting by you picking at under his nails, an attempt at getting the ointment from beneath those claws of his.  

“It’s hard to get,” he admits.  He holds his hands in front of his face as if that would help.  You laugh and grab one hand, forcing him to display it palm up.  The ointment is only stuck under the index and middle nails.  Internally you fluster at the size difference between you and the barbarian.  Whether you’re short or tall, petite or large, he’s a tiefling barbarian.  He’s bigger than everyone and it shows as you hold his hand.

You manage to scrape out what little ointment is left between his nails with one finger.

“There,” you say.  You let go of his hand but it hangs in the air.  Looking at the ointment on your own you tuck your hand beneath your shirt and rub it to the bruise on your hip, the pain fading immediately.  You look up at him to say your thanks but you find him staring at his own hand.  “Tav?”

Tav startles, lowering his hand and straightening his back.  Even in the dim light you can see his cheeks darken, though you’re not sure why he would be embarrassed about the skinship considering how easily he hugs people. 

Eventually he shows a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.  “Do you know what you’ll do when we reach Baldur’s Gate?”

You blink.  The question feels to come out of nowhere so you just shrug.  “I have no idea.  I guess try to find someone that knows me?  I still want to help you guys, even if it’s just getting cream out from your fingernails.”

You chuckle and scratch behind one ear.  Really that one action was the most useful you’ve been this entire journey.  When you look back at Tav there seems to be something he wants to say, but his mouth only opens and then closes.  He smiles again, fake as Astarion’s.  

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he says.  His voice is quieter than you’ve ever heard.

“Oh, yeah.”  You bite the inside of your cheek.  You’ll figure it out.  Not we.  Just you.  “Um…I’ve said it a lot, but I feel like I haven’t…thank you for everything, Tav.  I’d definitely be dead if not for you, and if I somehow managed to survive I’d be totally lost and—and confused.  I mean I am confused still, but…you’re making it easier.”

Now you give him a smile, hoping the tears stinging at the corner of your eyes are hidden in the dim light.

But you don’t have to worry about your own tears because when you look up at the tiefling he’s the one crying.  It’s silent as the tears fall down his cheeks, eyes wide as they stay on your face.  “Really?”

“Yes? 

Tav lets out a long breath and closes his eyes.  You glance at his singed clothing and wonder if he’s hurt, but there’s no visible wound on him.  You remember moments earlier when he’d asked if you were mad at him, annoyed with him.  Had it weighed on him so much that you thanking him made him break down?  He’s a lot softer than you originally thought. 

You climb onto your knees, unsure of how to comfort him.  “You’re-uh-you’re really important to me Tav.  I’m…I’m sorry if I—”

Tav’s arms open and suddenly you’re engulfed by a hug.  Even his tail comes around to wrap around your back and pull you closer.  It would have been nice, were your own arms not trapped at your sides.  

The air is knocked from your lungs, but thankfully the ointment he’d applied keeps you from feeling too much pain.  He mumbles something into your shoulder, face buried and a horn poking at one ear.

“Tav?” you ask, voice strained. “I can’t hear you…or breathe.”

His grip loosens, but he keeps you there leaning awkwardly forward on your knees.  His forehead is still pressed against your shoulder, but he turns until it’s also against the curve of your neck.  The tent starts to feel way too hot, even without your coat. 

“I said thank you,” Tav tells you.

You aren’t given a chance to respond when the flap of the tent opens and Shadowheart pokes her head in.  “Not to interrupt, but we have a visitor.”

Tav lifts his head from your shoulder and you both turn your heads to look at the half-elf, and then past her. A new pit of anxiety settles in your stomach when you see who is there, and looking directly at you.

Withers.

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[foreverfangirlsblog]

Redemption (Husk x Reader)

Summary:

The reader and Husk try to get redeemed but one of them is left behind. Will they be able to meet again? Or is their relationship over?

Notes:

Word count: 3012

You and Husk were in his room, laying comfortably in each others embrace. It’s moments like these that you loved. Just you and him with no worries about soul binding deals, war with angels, or even getting redeemed. Just you laying with your big kitty, purring as you cuddled.

Admittedly you have been thinking about getting redeemed a lot recently. You and Angel have been working really hard towards redemption but have yet to get anywhere with it at the same time. You quietly sighed and Husk noticed right away. He nuzzled his face into the space between your collar bone and neck. “What’s wrong love?”

You hesitated a bit before speaking “I’m just wondering if we’ll ever get redeemed. If we’ll ever get out of this literal hell hole”

Husk tensed up a bit from your words. He knew that your goal here was to actually get redeemed, unlike him. Yet you still phrased it as “we” as in you and him, together. You always were a positive thinker, contradicting his glass half empty attitude. You had so much faith in him getting redeemed, he just couldn’t see it. “If anyone can get redeemed and welcomed into heaven it’s you doll”

You smiled at his words. “I guess this place isn’t total hell, not since I have you” you kissed his cheeks one at a time, then his forehead, then his cute little heart nose. He laughed at you sweetly before bringing your face to his for a short but passionate kiss.

“It’s just a matter of time”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Everyone gather around!! I have great news!”

You and Husk were at the bar, chatting together. Upon hearing Charlie announce for everyone to gather you both walked over to the lobby, sitting side by side on the couch.

Once everyone was in the lobby waiting anxiously for Charlie’s announcement she began to speak. “Alright so I’ve been allowed a meeting with heaven. Seems like they’re finally going to consider redemption as an option!”

At first there was silence, no one sure what to say. Last time Charlie had a similar announcement it resulted in a war with the angels and Sir Pentious dying…..

Husk was the first one to speak what was on everyone’s mind “You mean just like last time? When it resulted in us getting in deeper shit with heaven?” Of course he was skeptical, you all were. But how could you not hold onto hope.

“This time is different” Charlie said confidently, she didn’t explain how or why but told us to trust her, and you did. She told everyone to stay in the hotel, suggested having a game night or movie night while she’s gone. Then, her and Vaggie left to their meeting in heaven.

“Well might as well get comfortable” you said has you leaned into Husk then snuggled deeper into him. Angel and Cherri debated on which movie to watch. We ended up putting it to a vote and chose the less violent option that Angel surprisingly chose.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You were leaning back, practically on top of Husk’s chest as he played with your hair instead of watching the movie.

You all finished the first movie by now and went onto your second choice, a basic romance. Everyone acted like they didn’t like your movie at first but you could tell they were enjoying it, at least no one fell asleep yet.

Suddenly a bright light shone down from somewhere in the sky. ‘But how is that possible? We’re inside?’ You thought to yourself. Then you realized that the light wasn’t just shining down on the room, it was shining down on you.

Your whole body felt warm, and almost tingly. Your back particularly started to almost vibrate. That’s when you also realized that you were floating, no, levitating upwards.

“Husk?!” You called out in a panic. Your body was levitated above his now, far enough that you could only hold onto his hand as he reached for you.

“Y/N?! What the the hell??”

“More like what the heaven” Angel suggested.

Husk glared at him quickly before realizing, he was right. This had to be Heaven. You were getting redeemed.

“It’s okay Y/N. You did it, you’re a winner.” He squeezed your hand to comfort you best he can “you’re going to a better place now” he smiled sadly at you before slowly letting go of your left hand.

“Husk no. We’re supposed to go together, I want you to come with me!” There were tears forming in your eyes as your body floated further and further away, the only thing keeping you down was your right hand holding onto his like your afterlife depended on it.

His heart broke seeing you this sad, and even though he wasn’t sure he promised you “I’ll see you soon, don’t you worry”. With that Husk softly kissed the back of your right hand before letting go.

You were now on your way up to heaven. Your eyes glowed an unnatural golden color. Your entire color pallet now shifted from dark hues to light. And now, you had magnificent wings sprouted from your back, even larger than Husk’s.

Then you were gone, the light was gone. All that was left was Husk by himself staring at the spot where he once held you, and his friends gathered around him.

“Well shit” Angel said awkwardly trying to fill the silence.

Before Husk could even think about saying anything another portal opened. His ears perked up, he got excited hoping it would be you. He should’ve known it was too soon. It was just Charlie and Vaggie.

“YAYY!!!” Charlie said excitedly as she stepped through the porta, back into the hotel lobby. “The angel council decided to redeem one of you as a tester! Isn’t that….great” she was excited to reveal the good news but faltered off at the end when she noticed the grim faces on everyone. “What’s wrong?”

“They took Y/N” Cherri told Charlie.

She gasped before turning to Vaggie, exchanging a knowing glance. “Oh Husk I’m so sorry”

Husk couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t do anything. He just sat there silently. Hoping it was all some bad dream, like all the other times. But it wasn’t.

“Hey I have an idea!” Charlie exclaimed trying to lighten the mood. “Why don’t we go visit her!”

Husk perked up again. “You really think we could see her??” He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“I don’t see why not! They want Y/N to be an example! What better way than to show you all what it’s like after you’re redeemed??”

Husk nodded at this, happy for the chance to see you again, but still didn’t want to get his hopes up. “That sounds good Charlie”

~~~~~~~~~~~~ A month went by before they were able to schedule a meeting to visit Y/N. Charlie had brought the idea up to Emily and she was also for it! Excited even. Although she said only after you became officially settled. So Husk waited. A whole month. Damn was it the longest month in his entire existence.

To say he missed you would be an understatement, it didn’t describe the severity of the situation well enough. He missed your presence. At the bar while he worked, at Charlie’s exercises, and especially at night in his bed. It felt empty and cold without you, even if he had thick fur. He missed your soft touches, your genuine smile, your sweet voice, your intoxicating kisses.

He had actually been on really good behavior recently. Everyone noticed it. He stopped drinking heavily, he participated in more activities Charlie planned, he was really trying to keep his promise to you. He never thought it was possible before but now you were proof, and like hell he’d let his stubbornness prevent him from seeing you again. So he caved, he’ll become the nicest sinner in all of hell if it meant he’d get to hold you in his arms again.

Today was finally the day. The day everyone got to visit you in heaven. He was restless all night and barely slept. He was first in the lobby ready to go, even before Charlie. His fur was more tamed than usual, his teeth brushed, and even managed to put on his best outfit. He was going to see you today, and it meant everything to him.

*Yawnnn* “You’re here early Husk” Vaggie said as he came down to the lobby.

“Isn’t it obvious! He’s looking forward to see Y/N!!” Charlie squealed in response for Husk “looking nice buddy!” She nudged him with her elbow suggestively. Husk couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed, was it that obvious he was looking forward to this all month?

“Listen Husk-“ Vaggie started. Before she could continue Angel, Cherri and Niffty met them downstairs.

“Alright bitches let’s go visit heaven!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~ Husk and the others were all put into a conference room somewhere in heaven. They didn’t really get the grand tour like Charlie did the first time she was there. Not that Husk minded, he just wanted to see you.

It was obvious Husk was on edge waiting for you, his fur was standing up and his ears were pinned straight against his head. He twitched at every little sound he heard till finally, he saw you enter the room with Emily and Saint Peter.

‘Finally’ he thought to himself, before quickly running to hug you tightly. “Y/N!” He hugged you closer than ever before with his entire being, his tail wrapped around your torso, his wings shielding you from everyone else. All his worries melted away once he had you in his arms and could smell the familiar scent that was you.

“Husk there’s something you need to know” Vaggie said quietly to Husk.

He was going to ignore her but she snapped him out of his trance, he finally realized….you were still within his embrace but you weren’t hugging him back. He knew something was wrong. He untangled himself from around you and looked at closely. “Y/N what wrong?” He asked worriedly examining your face. You looked okay…

“I’m so sorry…” You turned to Saint Peter and Emily confused, “How does he know my name?”

Husks heart shattered. “Y/N, stop-stop messing around it me. It’s Husk.”

You just looked at him with pity and confusion. He hated that look, he never thought he could hate a look on your face but there he was hating that look, wishing it would go away, “I’m sorry I don’t know you have we met before?”

Everyone in the room was dumbfounded, well everyone except for the angels, current and fallen.

“Y/N you’re the love of my life. I’m-I think I’m-I thought I was yours. It’s me” Husk’s words were messy and shaken now as he stepped away from you slightly.

“I’m really sorry I think you’re confusing me with someone else. You do seem very lovely though” you smiled sadly at him stepping back, furthering the distance between the two of you.

He didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but just then it did. His heart broke into a million pieces.

He quickly turned away from you to hide his tears. Angel came up and tried to comfort him but Husk just pushed him away.

“What the hell is going on here” Angel demanded.

“Emily why doesn’t Y/N remember Husk?” Charlie added in concern.

Emily sighed and stepped to them while Saint Peter guided you elsewhere. “I thought you knew….once you become an angel you forget sinners”

“What?!” Everyone asked irritated

“What do you mean forget sinners???” Angel yelled “You mean to tell me my sisters up here and she just doesn’t remember her family?! Y/N doesn’t remember the love of her life??? What kind of bullshit logic is that?!” Angel’s comment threw everyone a little off guard, not everyone knew he had a sister, nor did he talk about her being in heaven.

Emily gave a look of sympathy “It makes it easier for the soul to transition, Y/N was in so much pain being ripped away from the people she came to love. Forgetting was the only way…..otherwise….she may have just gone back down”

“That’s bullshit” Husk growled “you can’t just take away someone’s life”

“Technically it’s not her life, it’s her afterlife” Saint Peter said.

Husks growling grew louder and rage fired his eyes. He was ready to claw those wings right off of that stupid angel. He saw the was he interacted with you, who the fuck did he think he was.

Before Husk could pounce multiple people were now holding him back.

“I’m sorry everyone I truly am”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Hotel the spirit was worse than ever, amongst everyone.

“I’m really sorry guys” Charlie apologized. In return everyone mumbled an “it’s okay you didn’t know”

“But I knew” Vaggie said, “I’m so sorry I wanted to tell you all, warn you. But I thought that maybe it would be different this time”

No one knew what to say but Husk didn’t care anymore. He got up and left to seclude himself in his room. What did anything matter now? If Y/N didn’t remember him all the work he’d done this past month to be with her was pointless.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few weeks had passed since the meeting and Husk had lost all progress he made. Charlie was growing especially concerned for him “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Husk this drunk before” Charlie said nervously, looking over to the bar where Husk sat drinking himself away despite it being 9am.

“Well what do you expect. The only person who made him happy down in this literal hell hole forgot he existed” Angel said matter of factly.

“I know I just wish he would still work on himself, just because she doesn’t remember him now doesn’t mean there’s not hope”

Angel hummed at this and decided to risk approaching the drunken feline. “Hey you’re cut off” Angel said taking the bottle away from Husk

“The fuck you say spider freak?” Husk snapped

“I said you’re. Cut. Off.” Husk started growling at Angel and was ready to try and snatch the bottle back but Angel was one step ahead of him and stepped back, causing Husk to trip over himself drunkenly. “Dammit Husk you’re really going to sit around here moping when Y/N is up there waiting for you??”

“She’s not waiting for me” Husk hissed “she doesn’t even remember me anymore”

“Who the fuck cares?!” Husk became confused “You promised Y/N before she went up there that you’d try your best to get up there with her. You made that promise before, who cares if she forgot. You’re really gonna make yourself a liar to the one person you care about?? You’re just going to GIVE UP on the one person who made you a tolerable asshole instead of an intolerable jackass?” Husk blinked at him, processing the information he was just given. Angel wasn’t entirely wrong. How could he break this promise to Y/N. Does it really matter if she forgot him? Maybe if he can follow her he could win her back? Was that too cheesy to hope for? Isn’t that how love is supposed to work?

“I hate you when you’re right” Husk pouted crossing his arms “You’re wrong about one thing though, she’s not the only one I care about” Husk gave Angel a soft smile.

“That’s more like it, come on let’s get you to bed. You got a lot of work to do bud”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since that wake up call from Angel Husk really did try to change his ways. Maybe it didn’t matter if you forgot him, he remembered you and always would, that’s enough for him. He’d hold onto the memories you created together and cherish them. And maybe, just maybe you could still make more.

When Husk was eventually redeemed it was unexpected. He hadn’t done any heroic act, or done anything particularly kind at all, it was just a normal day. The sensation was dramatic and unfamiliar, identical to the light show he saw you go through. Although this time he saw his friends proudly wish him good luck as he rose to the heaven, to you.

Overall he noticed his appearance was generally the same just lighter. The reds were dulled down to dark pinkish colors instead. His clothes were also white instead of black, his wings now white and pink.

As soon as he regained composure and steadied himself he frantically looked around the empty room “Y/N??” He called out desperately.

“I’m sorry it’s just me” Emily said emerging from the shadows.

Husk tensed slightly but still had hope “Where Y/N? Can I see her please?” He asked nervously.

“Husk…I don’t know what will happen when you see her, I can’t guarantee that she will remember you again or even want to talk to you considering what happened last time”

“I need to know” Husk said firmly despite Emily’s warning.

“Alright I’ll send for-“ before Emily could finish her sentence the doors slammed open, startling her and Husk.

Y/N stood in the doorway looking out of breath and a bit panicked, but still beautiful. “Husk?!” She yelled into the room scanning it to find him. As soon as her eyes landed on him tears welded up in her eyes “HUSK YOURE FINALLY HERE!”

Emily was shocked and so was Husk as you ran and engulfed him into a big warm hug. Despite his initial shock he melted immediately in your arms. “I miss you so much” his voice said, barely above a whisper into your chest.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you” you squeezed him before pulling away slightly “I’m-I’m so-“

“Shhhh it’s okay” Husk comforted, bringing you back into the hug. “I’m here and we’re finally together, that’s all that matters”

You smiled. “Now we’re both winners”

“That we are love”