#it's only 2:20pm

[godmerlin]

today's been a long tiring day. i woke up a little before 4am and had a migraine and then went someplace an hour away around 8am to see my dying aunt and got home a little over an hour ago.....and I just don't feel okay. I wanted to do some gifs but i don't think i have it in me to try. not even merlin can bring me out of the funk i am in today.

[mazzystar24]

Name a historic battle?

Easy

An immigrant student vs student finance and the evidence section of the application

[lovebugmusings]

o7 gnight friends and lovers, kissing you all gently on the cheek

[currrentfixations]

the cut that always bleeds 2 — park hu-min

pairing: park hu-min (baku) x gotaksister!reader

genre: just fluff tbh, they deserved a happy ending.

word count: 2,115 words

note: friendship?? they love each other, your honour. also thank you so much for all the love on my first fic it means a lot 😭🫶, hope you guys enjoy this one as well!

part 1

you were woken from your slumber by your phone buzzing next to you.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ flashing on your phone screen, before the screen went black again.

you had fallen asleep slumped against the door. your eyes swollen from crying, and your body stiff and sore from the rigid position it had been frozen in for the last couple hours. slowly getting up, you reached for your phone.

your head was throbbing, like someone had struck it with a hammer. tapping your phone, you checked the time. 11pm — you had been out for almost 2 hours. under the time, you noticed all notifications you had missed.

4 missed calls from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 1 voicemail from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 6 messages from hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ 2 messages from seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️

nothing from hu-min. you never deleted his number. the last time you messaged him was the day of hyun-tak's accident, wondering if he'd seen or heard from hyun-tak. he never replied.

pushing the thoughts about hu-min aside, you opened up jun-tae's messages first.

seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️ [9:42pm]: hey, it's jun-tae! seo jun-tae 🙇‍♂️ [9:43pm]: hyun-tak was worried bc you're not answering, call me or him when you get this 😊 delivered — read at 11:03pm

you loved jun-tae — he was a recent addition to your brothers friend group. he was absolutely adorable, and had won you over with his polite and respectful nature. tapping on his contact, you hit the call button. the phone rang 6 times before it went into voicemail.

with no response from jun-tae, you decided to check your brothers messages.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:17pm]: hey idiot hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:18pm]: sorry i haven't messaged or called, just got caught up with friends hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:18pm]: call me when you get this hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:36pm]: hey don't purposely ignore me hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [9:36pm]: i know for a fact you're stuck to your phone 24/7 hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ [10:59pm]: ok did something happen, call me when you get this delivered — read at 11:06pm

wow only 6 messages, that was a new record for hyun-tak. better than the time he had messaged you a single word at a time causing your inbox to inflate with 248 messages. you clicked on his contact, checking what time you had missed his calls.

hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — 2 missed calls at 9:20pm hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — missed call at 9:38pm hyun-takie ⛹️‍♂️ — missed call at 11:00pm

you giggled, it was just like him to call you 2 minutes after messaging because you didn't immediately answer. tapping on the voicemail, you gave it a listen.

"hey baby sis, are you okay? i'm worried that little miss glued to her phone isn't answering. anyways whenever you get this, call me back. also don't be mad, i'm at the hospital."

were you really related? your brother was a dumbass. instead of assuming you were asleep, the first thing he thinks is that something is wrong.

wait. hospital. what?

you shot up, panic flooding in. running into your room, you grabbed a small bag, shoving your phone, wallet, keys and headphones inside.

running back out to the entrance, you forced shoes onto your feet. as soon as your shoes were on, you sprinted outside to grab a taxi. the drive to the hospital felt endless. you were beyond scared, imagining all different types of scenarios.

thanking the taxi driver, you rushed inside the hospital and upon entering you heard hyun-tak's voice.

"man, you crybaby. did you cry again?"

and hu-min's voice.

"i didn't."

"si-eun, don't worry he cries all the time." — "i didn't cry, jerk."

hyun-tak sounded completely fine. speeding up a little, you reached the group of boys. seeing hyun-tak with no injuries, you wrapped your hands around him, a sense of relief washing over you. he's okay — your brother was okay.

wait, you were supposed to be angry.

pulling out of his grip, you smacked hyun-tak on the shoulder. "owww, what the hell was that for?" he whined.

"what the hell was that for!?" you said, your eyes bulging. you smacked him again.

"you're an asshole, do you know how worried i was? why on earth would you end the voicemail with 'i'm in the hospital' when you're perfectly fine! you scared me!".

you wanted to smack him more but your body betrayed you, wrapping your arms around him once more.

"i'm sorryyyy —" hyun-tak said, smiling and gently patting your head. "the voicemail ended before i could say anything else. i was going to include that i was in the hospital to see si-eun".

"i'll deal with you at home." you huffed, pulling away from him. forcing a smile, you turned around.

"hi jun-tae, long time no see!" you said to the boy who stood to the right of you, giving him a side-hug.

"hi si-eun, i hope you're okay. nothing serious right?" you asked, giving him a polite wave. si-eun wasn't much of a hugger or talker, especially with those he didn't know well. but he knew he could trust you, you were like a mini hyun-tak.

"i'm okay, just a minor accident. only a few scratches here and there" si-eun replied, smiling softly.

"i'm glad" you responded, mirroring si-eun's smile.

"hey ___". you were surprised hu-min was talking to you, considering he hadn't acknowledged what you had said to him while he was leaving.

you almost didn't want to respond to him, but feeling the eyes of your brother and his friends on you, you settled for a simple 'hi'.

you stared at hu-min in silence, waiting for him to say something. but instead juntae cleared his throat, "i'm going to drop si-eun back to his room. let's go si-eun." — "i'm gonna go with them" hyun-tak added.

they hadn't left because they weren't uncomfortable. they'd left to make you feel comfortable, to give you the privacy you needed. hyun-tak had told them about your past with hu-min, how you had been harbouring feelings for each other, both afraid to do anything about said feelings. how his accident was the tipping point for you.

watching their silhouettes disappear, you felt a hand grab your wrist. you looked up at hu-min with a confusion expression that translated to 'what are you doing?'.

holding onto you, hu-min led you outside. the cold wind hitting your face as you exited the hospital. "what do you think you're doing?" you asked him. "i need to talk to you. sit." you slowly lowered yourself onto the wooden bench.

the frosty air settled on your skin making you realise that you'd forgotten a jacket. out of the corner of your eye, you saw hu-min removing his hoodie and before you could refuse, it is in front of your face.

"i'm fine, it's fine."

"just take it, you're shivering like crazy" he exhaled, placing the zip-up over your shoulders. you, unconsciously, pulled his hoodie closer to you, feeling his lingering warmth in the fabric.

"what did you wanna talk about hu-min?" the cold weather was making you impatient causing the words coming out sharper than intended.

taking a deep breath, hu-min gathered his courage. fighting with other boys, easy. talking to the girl he likes, no thanks. he'd rather fight a 100 boys than feel the emotions he was feeling right now, ever again.

"your brother forgave me, why can't you?" he whispered. he was right. hyun-tak had forgiven hu-min — technically he had never blamed hu-min to begin with. so what about you, what was holding you back for forgiving him?

a heavy silence settled between you. "nevermind... forget i said anything, i'm sorry". hu-min was getting restless, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wondering if he'd said the wrong thing.

"no... you're right, i'm sorry hu-min." you've gotten this far, now it was time to just rip the bandaid off.

tapping the space next to you, you silently invited hu-min to come sit down. he had been standing the entire time, worried that being too close would make you uncomfortable.

"i'm not angry at you —" you spoke slowly, trying to keep your voice steady. "i mean i was angry, initially i did blame you for what happened to hyun-tak. all i could think was, had he not been friends with you, he won't have gone through what he did".

taking a deep breath, you continued explaining how during the first two months of hyun-tak's recovery you were so so angry at him and how by month four, it had become tiring.

not only did you not want to hate the boy you love, you'd realised you were incapable of it.

"soon after, hyun-tak had picked up on the fact that i wasn't speaking to you. and you know what he said to me?" you let out a quiet laugh. "don't hate hu-min too much, the guy is a bit of a dummy. just go talk to him". what you had tried so hard to hide, your brother had picked up on in seconds.

after hearing those words from your brother, you realised that the anger and resentment you had held towards hu-min for being the "cause" of hyun-tak's accident had dissipated. and the real cause was something else altogether.

"the reason i've been upset with you is something else. did you think i was angry because of what happened all this time?"

"yeah..." — "well do you get why i was actually upset?" hu-min shook his head 'no'. you were starting to believe that he did, in fact, have a 99iq.

"hu-min!" you slightly raised your voice, slapping his shoulder. "can you please explain to me why you were actually upset with me?" he asked, with the most innocent look on his face. "are you serious?" was he trying to tease you?

"i was upset because you didn't reach out to me. after i walked past you in the hospital you didn't try to contact me. not once." you sighed, taking a breath to prevent tears from welling up in your eyes.

"i felt abandoned. i thought i meant more-" hu-min pulled you into a hug before you could finish. 'i'm sorry' he repeatedly whispered, like a mantra, his voice full of regret. you pressed your lips together, trying your best to not cry, but it was too late. tears had began to slide down your face, dampening hu-min's shoulder.

"hey, you're making me look bad, why are you apologising? i'm the one who is sorry hu-min, it was wrong of me." you spoke, your voice muffled.

"ialsomayhavebeenupsetbecauseyoudidn'tfeelthesamewayaboutme" you quickly murmured under your breath, praying he hadn't caught onto what you said.

but he had. hu-min pulled back just enough so he could see you, his eyes softening at the sight of your slightly puffy eyes. "oh dear, my poor baby —" he said in a teasing tone, wiping the remnants of your tears. " ___, do you have 99iq or do i? i think we both do."

"i like you".

"i like you so much. my every waking thought is about you. hell, even my dreams are about you." you were speechless, your brain was short-circuiting. "i was worried that baek-jin would go after you so i thought the easiest and safest thing to do was to stay away. i'm sorry i should've told you."

"please say something."

without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around hu-min.

"i like you too, god we're both idiots." you laughed, with a final few tears making their appearance. hu-min hugged you tighter — "guess we are" he mumbled, laughing softly.

"c'mon lets go inside". standing up, you laced your fingers through his. "give me a minute, you head in first" he replied.

you nodded and made your way towards the hospital entrance. realising there was one important thing you forgot to tell him, you turned back around.

"hey baku" you yelled with a grin on your face, "you know you're not alone right, you have me, hyun-tak, jun-tae, and si-eun. try not to hold the burden all on your own, i don't want my future boyfriend to get squashed. now hurry up and come inside".

hu-min hadn't realised how much he yearned to hear that nickname from you. and for the first time in a while, hu-min smiled. not a polite one to show everyone he was okay when he wasn't, but a genuine one.

turning back around, you headed inside. you felt happy, happier than you have been in the past year. even though there was still the whole union mess to clean up and even though you technically weren't dating yet, you were happy. you didn't mind waiting for hu-min for a little while, not when he had waited for you.

for @bloodysxxl who wanted a second part 🫶

and as always lmk your thoughts!! :)

[jinusajas]

09/26/24; 12:20pm

- the academy arc -

yandere!sung jinwoo x fem.reader

anonymous asked: Hello! I've always admired your writing, and finally thought of an ask for you! What about yandere jinwoo with an oblivious reader? Its kinda funny how the reader has so much influence over him, and dont realize it, after all, how could they think he's dangerous when he's all soft for them, and only them... Oblivious to all the danger he causes to others

warnings: incredibly dark themes; harassment and petty bullying.

you felt butterflies erupting all across your abdomen, feeling your gaze darting all across the new sights and scenery of your high school. feeling a bit uncomfortable, you pull at the collar of your blouse and adjusted your tie at least a hundred times leading up to this very moment.

tightening your grip on your bag, you hardened your resolve and nodded, stepping into the school with as much confidence that you could manage. avoiding the crowd of students, you kept to yourself and take the flight of stairs up to the second floor. you trail your eyes across the labeled classroom before entering the one labeled 2-a.

you pass by a boy wearing a single glove, reading his textbook while flipping the pages with a bored expression. he sits near the back row, and you take the opposing corner, trying to remain as small as possible while getting out your pencils and notebooks for the day.

the sight of you settled off to the side makes the boy stop reading, and you caught a glimpse of how he was staring at you from your periphery, but wasn’t brave enough to meet his gaze. instead, you distract yourself by writing reassuring mantras in your notebook.

it’s going to be fine.

today is the first day of class for everyone.

surely no one is going to notice how you’re the newbie.

as the minutes ticked by, you became increasingly aware of the students that walked in, laughing while talking about their breaks. just as the bell rings, signifying the start of the day, your homeroom teacher just had to notice you as he forced you to introduce yourself to the whole class.

throughout it all, you were a stuttering mess, forcing out the syllables that made up your name all while feeling like your knees would give away at any minute now. the heat was felt burning against your cheeks, traveling down the length of your neck by the end of it all. when the teacher lets out a grunt of approval, you sat back down as quickly as you could.

a rich chuckle was heard coming from your left, and you took a quick peek over to see the same, perfect boy who had been studying softly laughing at you. his attention was on his open textbook, but you could tell that he was still looking at you from his periphery, those grey eyes drawing you in-

you clear your throat and look away from him, feeling the warmth now spreading to the rest of your body. the hours kept ticking by until finally, it was lunchtime. you grab your lunchbox from the confines of your bag, but found that you didn’t have much of an appetite.

as you debated on what to do for lunch, a loud whistle makes you gasp, looking over to see a group of rowdy looking boys making their way towards you. you visibly stiffen, willing them to go away, but your prayers were all for naught when the entered the classroom, already sauntering their way closer to you.

“man, when i heard there was a new girl here, i didn’t expect her to be so cute.”

you cling to your lunchbox, ready to bolt when needed. your anxiety was shot through the roof now, watching as the boys came closer to you when they suddenly stopped dead in their tracks. it appeared that they had a difficult time moving, like there was an invisible wall that kept them from coming closer to you. noticing their strange behavior, you visibly relax, watching their stiff movements as they walked out of the classroom and fell into a pile in the middle of the busy hallways.

laughter was heard erupting all across the hallways, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. the same soft chuckle was heard, and you look upwards to see your classmate standing before you. he had perfect, ebony locks of hair with grey eyes that shone with a startling clarity. “hey, are you alright?”

“oh, i’m fine! thank you for asking…”

the boy shakes his head. “there’s no need to be so stiff around me. just think of me as your new friend.”

your mind was spinning now, practically on cloud 9 at the thought of having this cute boy as your new best friend. you smile up at him, watching as he sheepishly brushes back his hair before reaching out a hand for you to take. “the name’s sung jinwoo, and would you like to have lunch together with me?”

you nod and stand from your seat with your lunchbox in hand. “of course!”

jinwoo gives you a kind smile, stepping out of the classroom with you. you see the same rowdy boys glaring daggers at jinwoo, yet he doesn’t relent, standing protectively in front of you. the boys end up scoffing before walking away. as jinwoo leads you in the opposite direction, you remain blissfully unaware of how shadows seemed to dart away from jinwoo while aiming toward the group of boys who dared to make you uncomfortable.

{ … }

the trio of girls had purposely intercepted your walk to school, pulling at your hair before tossing you aside, making you land against the hard pavement of the sidewalk. you had the air knocked out of your lungs when you suddenly felt the contents of your packed lunch land over your head.

tears were felt filling at your eyes, and you watch as a girl leans down closer to you, her blond curls framing at her face while icy blue eyes glare down at you, “who the hell do you think you are, getting so close to my jinwoo like that?”

her lackeys stand beside her, all sneering at you while exchanging looks of disdain towards you. ah, it seems as though your seemingly perfect life was coming to an end, with jinwoo’s own fanclub coming after you now. you had barely been basking in your school life and newfound freedom with jinwoo for a month when the drama suddenly started.

it started about a week ago, when you found safety pins on your seat and your notebooks ripped to shreds. you did your best to ignore it while hiding your troubles from jinwoo, yet it only seemed to strengthen the bully’s hatred for you.

and now, it had come to a boiling point, as the three girls continued to mock and sneer at you, teasing you, making fun of all your imperfections while stating how you were a mere “charity case” for jinwoo.

by the end of their torment, you were a sobbing mess, all alone as the girls quickly left you behind with their harsh laughters echoing in your ear. the stickiness felt from having your lunch dumped all over you made you feel worse than you ever felt, and you knew that you couldn’t go to school like this.

while you were wallowing in your misery, you remain completely unaware of the way your shadow lengthened, reveal jinwoo as he steps out of it. he says nothing, simply falling down to his knees before taking you in his arms. “i was worried about you not being in class today.”

hearing his voice makes you cry out to him, facing him as you hugged him closer to you. jinwoo didn’t mind how messy your uniform was, simply holding you closer to his chest. he lets out soft coos of your name, allowing you to let out all of your tears and frustrations. while keeping your head kept protectively against his chest, his eyes began to glow a startling purple hue, already commanding his soldiers to get rid of three, new targets.

{ … }

after your encounter with the bullies, the next day, you felt a strange sense of dread consuming you. you truly wanted nothing more than to skip-

or transfer-

yet jinwoo stops you from even considering moving away from him. and after much convincing from his end, (“don’t worry, i’ll be by your side the whole time if those girls come back!”) you relent and head to school with him.

upon entering your classroom, you felt a strange sense of relief filling you. you saw no signs of those nameless, petty girls, and you visibly relaxed. upon entering the classroom with jinwoo, he seemed to flash you a knowing grin, as if silently telling you i told you so.

needless to say, with those girls seemingly gone, (maybe even transferred to a different school?), you were able to resume the peaceful school days with jinwoo by your side.

and of course, he shared his lunch with you because he “always made extra” and knew of your healthy appetite.

of course he walked home with you every single day after your club activities, simply because “it was dangerous for girls to walk home at night” and he was your “best friend who wished to keep you safe.”

you saw no red flags-

becoming so blinded by his own brilliance that it made you blissfully unaware of the neverending darkness settled in the depths of his heart and soul.

{ … }

it was amazing how you couldn’t see just how obsessed sung jinwoo was with you.

ever since that first day, where you had entered his classroom and introduce yourself, becoming a mess of stutters in the process-

you had completely captured jinwoo’s heart.

throughout that first day, he kept sneaking glances at you, thinking of way to properly approach you before wrapping his tendrils of darkness around your heart, further trapping you within his web.

with beru and igris talking his ear off, knowing of their king’s desire to capture your heart as well, they were obnoxiously supportive, thinking of ways to help with winning you over. and just as he was ready to approach you-

those damn men had to ruin it all.

jinwoo could see the fear and discomfort in your eyes-

the way you stiffened in response and how you looked like you wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow you whole.

but he stops them from coming any closer to you, using his abilities as the shadow monarch to freeze them, controlling their jerky movements until they were tossed out of the classroom.

later that night, after beru had dealt with them, jinwoo reappears and gazes down at their lifeless bodies.

arise.

he commands their shadows to awaken, tying their souls to him for all eternity as they now obeyed his every desire and whim. even when the teachers questioned their absences, jinwoo made sure to dispose of their corpses. he had thought about erasing everyone’s memories pertaining to them-

but he was achingly aware of how it would alter your memories as well, which made him hesitate when it came to executing it. for now, as long as you remained blissfully unaware, then he would allow yours (and everyone else’s memories) to remain intact.

after all, what did he have to worry about? to the whole world, he was the ideal student, making 100’s on all of his assignments while doing his best to win the heart of the girl he adores. no one has any reason to suspect him of any foul play.

and he was going to use this seemingly perfect image of him to his advantage.

once jinwoo saw you again, he pretends to bump into you, successfully gifting you his freshly made soldiers by having them morph into your shadow as you remained clueless to his abilities.

after all, seeing your smile and how much happier you were with them out of your life was like receiving a piece of heaven for jinwoo. he lived for your laughters and could feel his devotion for you growing by mere seconds.

that was his first act of love and devotion toward you.

and the second act?

i believe we know when that was, too.

red hot anger was felt coursing through jinwoo’s veins when he found you broken and tossed aside, with the contents of your lunch thrown over you. though it pained him a great deal to watch your suffering through the eyes of his shadows, he had to confirm the identity of your pursuers before taking action.

as you sought comfort within his embrace, jinwoo commanded at least a hundred of his soldiers to stalk those who dared to bully you, not even feeling an ounce of regret when not even their corpses were found due to how they had all been ripped to shreds.

jinwoo didn’t bother extracting shadows from his latest victims, knowing that you would be so much happier without any traces of them close to you.

so, as he lay in bed with you sleeping so soundly within his arms, he silently vows his loyalty to you alone. his heart already burning with an inferno of emotions when it came to you and how you made him feel so alive-

and he never wanted this feeling to end.

he would never tell you the truth of his darkness either, or the things he had done to keep you safe and happy, oh no-

for why would he when you could forever remain his precious girl, living in a perfect sandbox that he had made specifically for you, all while swearing to protect it with his life?

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[b3ach-bunn7]

STEPHANIE

Gojo is your physics tutor and you’re sort of in love with him

Textfic, fluff, Highschool!au

(art Creds to @/eldritcheaven on twitter!)

—————————————————————————-

September 16th

5:38 pm

You: hiyaaa :D

You: is this Gojos number? Shoko says u can tutor me 😙

Gojo: whats the tutoring for

You: uh school?

Gojo: I mean what subject..?

You: OH LMAO

You: physics :((

Gojo: okay

Gojo: who r u again

You: Y/N

Gojo: okay meet me at the library Thursday after school

You: okayyy see u there 😁

September 18th

6:40 pm

You: gojo how am I gonna finish all this work BY MONDAY

Gojo: that’s three days

Gojo: this is easy stuff

You: FOR YOU

You: I have cheerleading until seven tomorrow night and Saturday

Gojo: okay..

Gojo: that’s my problem how?

You: okay just say u hate me

Gojo: I hate you

You: whatever

September 21st

1:06 am

You: IM DONE!

You: r u impressed

Gojo: no

You: wtf

Gojo: bring it to me at lunch so I can grade it

You: okayyyy

You: goodnight 🩷

Seen

September 21st

1:40 pm

You: GOJO WHERE R U

Gojo: in the library

You: why aren’t u in the cafeteria

Gojo: because it’s too noisy

Gojo: I can’t read in there

You: ha ha nerddd

Gojo: shut up and hurry up.

You: Okayyyy okay

You: Can u see me 🤔

Gojo: no the bright orange cheerleading costume is really hard to miss

You: 😒

You: So is the bone white hair and glasses

Gojo: hurry up

September 21st

8:12 pm

Gojo: ur so shit at physics

You: Uhm okay

You: thanks? 😭

Gojo: im sorry that was rude

Gojo: fear not that’s why I’m here

You: okay

Gojo: don’t worry it’s nothing my genius can’t fix

You: try not brag challenge fail

Gojo: you free tomorrow?

You: I should be yeah

Gojo: okay come to the library after school

You: can’t wait… 😔

September 22nd

4:06pm

You: Gojo

You: GOJO

Gojo: you are literally in front of me speak

You: nk the librarian is looking at me 😓

Gojo: okay so what

You: don’t look so annoyed at me

Gojo: im not annoyed at u

You: okay fine

You: do u have a highlighter

Gojo: …

You: DONT ROLL UR EYES AT ME

Gojo: there is LITERALLY ONE RIGHT IN FRONT OF U

You: omg ur first caps lock 🙁🩷 I’m so proud

Gojo: stop laughing

You: I’m sorry u look so angry over a highlighter..

You: and I can see you smiling too 😒

Gojo: shut up.

September 23rd

7:06 pm

You: Nerdjo I have a question

Gojo: never call me that

You: 😒😒okay.. can I ask u a question now

Gojo: if it’s about the work I gave u just wait until Friday

You: UTS NOT

Gojo: oh

Gojo: okay what

You: would you rather only drink water for the rest of ur life or be allowed to drink anything you like but it always has to have a drop of pee in it

Gojo: where is the pee coming from

You: You don’t know..

Gojo: is it healthy pee

Gojo: because if not then idk what’s in it and I could contract a disease like typhoid or smth

Gojo: and also utis and that’s painful enough as is without me drinking to catch it

Gojo: also how much is a drop

Gojo: is it a ratio thing? So every 1% of any drink I drink is pee or is it always a drop

Gojo: because in that case I can just drink a lot of smth and the pee will cancelled out

You: wtf

Gojo: sorry I’m rambling

You: No.. don’t apologise.. U have opened my eyes

You: I never thought of it like that

You: Also do u think it would like make my drink yellow..

You: Cause that’s GEROOSS

You: voice note elapsed: 00:40

Gojo: voice note elapsed 1:02

September 24th

2:06 pm

You: IM SO EMBARASSED

You: Walk of shame to my seat in my cheerleading outfit god TAKE ME

Gojo: ha ha ha

Gojo: don’t be late next time

You: Shut up

You: I hate Yaga and he hates me

Gojo: he loves me

You: yeah cause ur good at physics and I’m poo at it

Gojo: better focus then

You: okay

September 24th

2:20pm

You: Gojo

You: Gojo

You: NERDJO!!

Gojo: stop texting me

You: move u bag from the chair next to u

Gojo: what???

You: MOVE IT

You: I’m coming to sit next to you

Gojo: tf why

You: the guy next to me won’t shut up

You: and I need ur nerd aura to make me smarter

Gojo: ur so stupid

Gojo: hurry up then

You: WOPPEE OMW

September 25th

1:06 am

You: Gojo r u awake

Gojo: we have school tmrw go to sleep

You: U R 😏

Gojo: freak

Gojo: what do u want

You: I’m bored

You: And I’m confused on question three on the history hw 😓

Gojo: okay..

Gojo: ask me tomorrow

You: Or I can call u rn an u can help me..?

Gojo: .

You: PLEEEEAAAAAAAAAAASE 🙏

Gojo: you have ten minutes

You: YAY

Gojo and Y/N

25/9/2024 Time elapsed: 30:07

September 25th

11:05 am

You: GOJOOOO

You: Can I sit with u in econ today 😏

Gojo: what do u need help with now

You: Uhmmm I don’t need help

You: I just wanna sit with u..

Gojo: oh

Gojo: okay

You: YIPPEEEE

September 26th

12:21 pm

Gojo: YOU WATCH ANIME??????

You: WHY R U YELLING 😭😭

You: Yes… it’s my deep dark secret don’t tell anyone 😔

Gojo: okay with the sasuke keyring on ur bag…

You: LOL

You: how did you even see it where r u..

Gojo: stalking you in the corridors watch out

You: Okay Joe from you

Gojo: ur living ur own Netflix series rn 🩷

You: EMOJIS???

You: Who r u and where’s Gojo gone??!?££?

You: Whats ur favourite anime

Gojo: voice note elapsed: 1:34

September 28th

2:06 am

Gojo: do u think time travel is real

Gojo: or like will be real in the future

Gojo: I feel it could be because like we just advance in technology more and more as time goes by

Gojo: like if u said FaceTime would be a think in 1920 they’d probably hang u

Gojo: there was that Stephen hawking thing he did with like the party invite but

Gojo: if I was from the future I wouldn’t time travel just to prove him right like u just have an ego now

Gojo: food for thought 🩷

September 28th

7:21 am

You: SORRY I WAS AT PRAVTISE and U messaged me at like one am?)

You: But I thinking about you the whole time

Gojo: awwwww youre making me blush

You: SHURRUP

You: i was thinking about ur question not u

Gojo: same thing kinda

You: enough

You: voice note elapsed: 00:54

Gojo: girl u r not Snow White dinosaurs will eat u

You: We will find out when I time travel to the Jurassic era and kiss one

September 29th

3:37 PM

Gojo: why do u keep staring at me do ur work

You: Cause i have a question for u but im shy..🥺🥺

Gojo: EW cringe

Gojo: just ask me

You: You keep looking at me with those bombastic blue eyes im nervous

Gojo: ur so dramatic

You: DONT LAUGH AT ME

Gojo: so text me then

You: okay….

You: We have a pep rally soon can u come

Gojo: was that it..

You: YES

Gojo: girl im coming anyway geto is playing

You: UR FRIENDS WITH GETO???

Gojo: hes my best friend

You: Wait thats true ur always together

You: You know allll the girls on my team have a phat crush on him🤧

Gojo: mhm

Gojo: and are you one of those girls?

You: Nah hes not my type

Gojo: and what is ur type

You: Boys with bombastic blue eyes😏

You: R U BLUSHINGGGG

Gojo: shut up and do ur work

September 30th

9:45 pm

Gojo: ar eu home

You: Yeah why..

Gojo: play roblox with me

You: LOL

You: How’d u know im a gaymer..

Gojo: hoe u is not a gaymer

You: HEY

You: ill have u know im plat on overwatch..?

Gojo: wait actually

You: Actually

Gojo: ….

Gojo: HOP ON OW

You: Uhm sorry i cant im doing the hw my annoying tutor sent me

Gojo: im sure ur sexy smoking hot tutor will let u off this time

You: YAY

Gojo and Y/N

30/9/2024 Time elapsed: 3:46:07

October 1st

12:34 pm

Gojo: pep rally in five days

Gojo: r u nervous

You: Gojo texting me in school..?

Gojo: dont change the subject sweetheart

You: POO

You: Im scared yeah

You: I always am before a game tho

You: Like what if my shirt slips when I’m flipping and i flash my bra

Gojo: the game will get ten times better?

You: HEY

Gojo: JOKUNG IM JOKING

You: As an apology take me out for lunch today 😙

Gojo: ugh fine

You: XD

October 2nd:

2:07 pm

You: WHERE R U

You: GOJO

Gojo: me and geto went out for lunch

You: COME BACK NOW

Gojo: are you okay????

You: YES I WANNA GIVE U A HUG AND A KISS

Gojo: are you having a stroke??

You: SHOKO GAVE ME THE KEYRING

You: A LITTLE NARUTO TO MATCH MY SASUKEEE

You: THANK U SM

Gojo: ur welcome

You: 😁😁😁

You: Bring me back a coke

Gojo: ugh fine

Gojo: do i still get that hug and kiss

You: hmmm I’ll see

October 3rd:

10:21 am

You: image attachment

You: LOOK LOOK LOOK

Gojo: WELL DONE

You: A BBBBBB

You: IN PHYSICSS WHO AM I

Gojo: WELL DONE

You: Thanks for the tutoring🤤

Gojo: wait im the goat

You: hoe EYE am the goat..?

Gojo: i guess it was a team effort

You: Yeah duh

Gojo: good job sweetheart

You: 😁😁😁😁

October 3rd:

9:06 pm

You: ik we had plans but let me come home then we can play

You: Practise ran so late sorry pookie

Gojo: wait ur at school rn??

You: Yes….. kms shortly😔

Gojo: how r u getting home?

You: Walking

Gojo: girl..?

You: My parents r working and i cant drive leave me ALONE

Gojo: wait im coming to get u

You: You dont need to do that gojo

Gojo: i do im omw

You: OKay

You: Btw i like ur new glasses

Gojo: u noticed?

Gojo: stop staring at me all the time omg..

You: I cant help it

You: i love u and all four of ur bombastic blue eys

Gojo: not picking u up anymore

You: IM SORRRY🙏🙏🙏🙏

You: PLZ COME MY KNIGHT IN SHINING GLASSES

You: PLEASEEEE

Gojo: ughhh fineee

Gojo: just because u begged so nicely

You: ahahahah SHUT UP

October 3rd

10:15 pm

Gojo: r u home

You: u literally just watched me walk through my door

Gojo: so..

Gojo: what if someone took u from inside

You: Ur right hoe…

Gojo: im always right

You: Yeah yeah freaking nerd

Gojo: dont hate me cause u aint me

Gojo: ima graduate cum laude in the future

You: Why u talkign about cum u freak

Gojo: shut up

You: cum laude more like cum load 🤣🤣

Gojo: i hate u

You: LMAOOO

You: Ik ur laughng rn

You: Call me

Gojo: say please

You: Please call me four eyes🤞

Gojo and Y/N

03/10/2024 Time elapsed: 4:20:07

October 4th

3:47 am

Gojo: omg did I tell you

Gojo: I was reading this essay on behavioural psychology and it was talking about how like the concept of territoriality in humans it’s so interesting

Gojo: it’s related to how primates make their space

Gojo: not like actually of course nobody is peeing anywhere

Gojo: it’s also related to quantum physics in an weird way

Gojo: voice note elapsed: 2:12

October 4th

7:54 am

You: Whatever you say gorgeous 🙏🙏🙏

You: THATS COOL THO A

You: I got like a quarter of what u said but icloveee psychology

You: I wanna study it at university

You: my fav part is attachment and like child development and stuff

You: so ur next rant topic is going to be about that thanks 🩷

Gojo: did u actually listen to all that

Gojo: sorry I get carried away

You: Duh I listened and don’t apologise or ill shoot u

Gojo: thanks 🩷

Gojo: i bought u a coffee

You: YAYY

You: I’ll meet u at the entrance

October 5th

1:07 am

Gojo and Y/N

05/10/2024 Time elapsed: 2:39:07

Gojo: good luck for tomorrow

You: Thank u 😁

You: I’m gonna need it…

Gojo: shut up ur gonna do fine

Gojo: I’ll cheer u on from the stands

You: YAY

October 6th

3:54 pm

Gojo: get off ur phone and lock in

You: I CANT FIND U

Gojo: I’m like the third row from the bottom

Gojo: next to Shoko

You: I SEE U

You: I recognise those bombastic blue eyes anywhere🩷🩷🩷🩷

Gojo: awww is that big smile all for me

You: Shut it

You: Are those big flowers all for me??? 😁

Gojo: no they’re for the huzz

You: What if I kill you?

Gojo: plz don’t

Gojo: they are for u

You: Ur such a nerd

You: Thank u 😏

You: Ur coming to getos after right??

Gojo: yes

You: Good

Gojo: but

You: Butbwhat

Gojo: we could hang out instead

Gojo: just me and you

You: Are u asking me out on a date gojo????

Gojo: yeah kinda

You: I can see u blushing from over here

You: DONT TURN AROUJD

You: Ofc I’d rather hang out with u

You: See u after the rally😙😙😙😙

Gojo: good luck

Gojo: u look pretty in ur uniform

You: Thwnk u 😁😁😁

—————————————————————————

NERDJJO ONE CHANCE PLEASEEEE 🤞🤞🤞😓🥺 these text fics r so fun to write oh my sigma..

guys I know Gojo was kinda mean at first but he thought u were using him for his smarts… also idk I headcanon that he’s not as energetic as he is canonically.. like u think hes always bragging and dry but hes actually just itching to tell u facts about quantum physics

I HOOE U ALL ENJOYED 🩷 as always drop any asks in my inbox !!!!

[lexirosewrites]

Some Marijuana thoughts on this fine 4/20

I think it's rlly hard to get away with having weed on u in omegaverse bc I mean tht stuff smells strong to ur average real world human nose, imagine trying to get weed passed ur parents or a cop when everyone has such a strong sense of smell they can all pick out individual notes of a person's natural musk

Because of this I theorize A!Eddie would sell out of the back his van upon occasion & since he already has a scent just left of marijuana he has managed to get away w carrying a joint or 2 on his person from time to time

The busiest time for his drug dealing is obviously the days leading up to tht most sacred of pothead holidays April 20th especially because he refuses to sell anything or meet up w anyone for a deal the day of. Because here's the thing barely anyone knows: Eddie's birthday is April 20th

Usually he'll wake up day of as late as he wants & if Wayne isn't working they have a late pancake breakfast but if Wayne is working the old man always leaves a covered plate of pancakes just for Eddie. Then from there Eddie will either spend the day w Wayne or take himself out somewhere w his hard earned drug money. If Wayne isn't working the old man will even share half a joint w Eddie at 4:20pm, otherwise Eddie will usually find one or all of the Corroded Coffin guys.

...

April 20th 1987 however finds Eddie in a farmhouse not far from the Byers old place (which is just a short drive from the Hopper-Byers newly renovated cabin) paid for courtesy of Uncle Sam. Eddie had missed his 21st because he'd been in a medically induced coma till the end of May 1986.

Vecna was dead, Max hadn't died temporarily but still lost much of her vision & mobility, the Byers family moved back, & Jim Hopper was chief of police again thanks to government goons fabricating a story abt him going undercover for them. Eddie got all charges dropped, was exonerated, & even got a formal apology from both the police department & the mayor. The feds had to do little to spin a good cover story, what w Nancy Wheeler kicking off his alibi managing to implicate the now dead Jason Carver & a fictitious Pennhurst escapee as a team of killers. She'd played into the weird devil worshipping hysteria currently gripping the country & a small(ish) towns need for the occasional tragedy.

Wayne had used up all of his sick & vacation time sitting by Eddie's bedside then helping Eddie relearn how to move his body, the alpha could tell the old beta felt guilty abt missing his 22nd birthday but Eddie reassured him he'd b fine. Sure the band was bust what w all of the guys families practically flying them all out of Hawkins after the earthquake but Eddie mentioned the classmates tht had kept him safe while he was on the run.

Wayne seemed mollified & it didn't matter Eddie had no plans to call up any sort of last minute birthday celebration.

He rlly should have known better. Especially when it came to Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers, Argyle Garcia, & Nancy Wheeler. The other older members of the group had all wormed their way into helping Eddie in one way or another; Nancy all but threatened the principal w one of her guns to get him his diploma, Robin rambled at him when music only made his hands shake worse, Argyle shared his stash of stellar California weed, Jon was good at sitting quietly when Eddie needed company without noise, and Steve... the omega was almost always there helping & Eddie's alpha instincts were starting to get the wrong idea. Steve helped Eddie w his physical therapy when Wayne had to start going back to work, he cooked the pair of Munson bachelor's dinner more than three times a week, and he even did chores a guest in their new home shouldn't have to. Eddie wanted to croon & chirp & purr all over Steve.

Eddie Munson was falling in love with Steve Harrington & it was the easiest thing he'd ever done, easier than blinking.

Morning of April 20th 1987 dawned upon an Eddie Munson who was bolting awake from a nightmare he immediately couldn't recall beyond the feeling of unease pounding through his body. His bedside clock read 6am on the dot.

He wallowed for a moment before the need to use the bathroom was unavoidable, he grabbed his cane (he thought he'd need the wheelchair or the walker everyday, but nope only needed for bad days) & made his way to the bathroom at the end of the short hallway only to hear the sounds of someone in the kitchen. Then talking voices so multiple someone were in his kitchen. A few laughs ring out & just like tht Eddie knew who was in his house.

He made his way into archway to the kitchen to find Steve cooking pancakes so perfect they belonged in a diner, B!Robin was apparently designated the chocolate chip sprinkling squire, B!Jonathan was using a new polaroid camera Steve had gotten him for Christmas to document the breakfast brigade, & A!Nancy was at the kitchen table with A!Argyle rolling what looked like number 8 in a small but quickly growing line up of joints. There seemed to be some sort of system tht organized the weed.

The excited chirp Nancy let out when she was the first to notice Eddie got everyone's attention & Jonathan snapped a polaroid of him leaning against the archway gobsmacked.

Then the air was full of explanations of how exactly the entire young adults crew had gotten to Hawkins; Argyle & Jon had driven from San Francisco with bags of California weed hidden within the van, Nancy had driven from Boston since before the sun came up, Robin & Steve lived down the road in a little yellow & blue house they jointly bought w hard earned hush money. Throughout all of the tales was a common thread: Steve had known Eddie was going to likely b alone all day on his 22nd birthday & had contacted the remaining 3 young adults.

Eddie was no longer falling, he was fully in love with Steve Harrington.

(Part 1 of 2?)

Eddie’s bday being on 4/20 is both hilarious and so sad??😭

[highprettybabyy]

You and I Stargazing

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: Wanda plans a whole evening for you to destress

warnings: alcohol consumption, being overworked and stressed, lots of fluff

AN: i want a gf who will take me stargazing or who i can take stargazing, im not picky

--//--

You can’t remember the last time you saw the sun.

It’s somewhere out there, presumably, but your blinds are closed, your eyes are dry, and your computer screen is the only source of light you’ve been staring into for what feels like a week. There are three mugs on your desk. One’s from this morning, the other two are questionably stained and lukewarm.

Emails pour in faster than you can answer them. Slack notifications buzz on your phone like wasps in a jar. And your boss - god, your boss - has just fired off his third “gentle reminder” of the day, which is code for “Why isn’t this done yet?” even though he knows damn well you’re drowning.

You shift in your chair, shoulders aching. The half-eaten toast on your keyboard tray has gone cold, forgotten since ten this morning. You’d meant to take a break. Stretch. Stand up. Eat something that didn’t crunch with regret. But every time you open a new tab or try to breathe, some new problem snaps at your heels.

You blink hard and glance at the clock in the corner of your screen. Nearly 2pm.

Your phone buzzes - Wanda 💕 Calling - and for a moment, you hesitate. You’re so tired you could cry, and you’re not sure you can pretend you’re fine. But you answer anyway.

“Hey, baby,” you manage, voice hoarse.

There’s a brief pause on her end. “Hi, sweetheart,” she says gently. “You sound..- are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” you lie, automatic and hollow. You clear your throat and try again. “Just tired. This project’s almost done. Final meeting tonight, so… almost there.”

“Mhmm,” Wanda hums. You can hear her moving around, maybe tidying something, maybe just pacing. She doesn’t say anything for a second too long, which tells you she doesn’t buy it.

“You’ve been working straight for, what, two weeks now?” she asks, tone light but full of concern.

“Thirteen days,” you correct with a dry laugh, leaning back and rubbing your temples. “But who’s counting?”

“Me. I’m counting.”

That makes you smile, but it’s small, fleeting. The ache in your neck pulses behind your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you repeat. “Meeting’s tonight, and then it’s done. I just need to get through this one last push.”

She exhales, and the sound alone soothes something frayed inside your chest.

“Alright, baby. I’ll let you go,” she says gently. “I love you.”

You close your eyes. “I love you more.”

When the call ends, your phone screen reflects your face back at you - dull, pale, with the shadows of sleepless nights carved deep beneath your eyes.

You return to your work, but your fingers tremble slightly on the keys.

You don’t know it yet, but Wanda’s going to change your entire night.

-

The call ends and Wanda stands still in the middle of the kitchen, one hand holding her phone, the other resting on the counter beside a half-cut apple she’d been slicing for a snack. The knife glints in the afternoon light. The apple begins to brown. She doesn’t move.

You’d said you were fine. You always do.

But your voice had that thin, stretched tone to it - like the last thread of silk being pulled too taut. The kind of voice she’d only heard on days when you were running on fumes and caffeine and the stubborn will not to let anyone see you fall apart.

Her chest tightens.

She places the phone down slowly, decisively. She already knows what needs to happen.

By 2:20pm, she’s pulling out of the driveway. It’s cloudy today - one of those chilled spring afternoons that still carries winter’s breath under its coat. She zips up her jacket and sets her jaw as she drives across town to the little boutique shop you’d discovered together last autumn. The one that smells like cinnamon and pine year-round and always has a display of mugs that look handmade, each one just slightly imperfect.

She walks in and the warmth hits her like a sigh.

The first thing she sees is a forest green ceramic mug with tiny constellations painted across the surface. It’s slightly lopsided and immediately reminds her of the way you cradle your drinks in both hands when you’re too tired to lift your arms. She smiles and adds it to her basket.

Then comes the blanket - thick, dark red, made from plush faux-sherpa. She buries her hand in it and thinks of you curled up on the couch, asleep five minutes into a movie, drooling into your knuckles.

She finds a pair of socks next: alpaca wool with a warm chestnut-acorn pattern. Fluffy, thick enough for tile floors, and just soft enough that she whispers, “Y/N’d love these,” out loud without thinking.

She wanders the aisles, barely noticing time pass. Every little thing - a vanilla-bean candle, your favourite fizzy juice, the fancy brand of salted caramels you think are too expensive to buy for yourself - all of it goes into the basket.

And then something small but meaningful: a new phone charger. Yours has been frayed and taped over three times. She buys two. One for now, one just in case.

By the time she gets to the register, her basket looks more like a love letter than a shopping trip.

She stops by the grocery store on the way home, checking her list twice. Oxtail, root vegetables, fresh herbs, potatoes. She adds red wine and cocoa powder. She refills the coffee tin with your favourite beans - the ones you claim you don’t need but always smile at when you find them stocked.

She even remembers the honey you’ve been out of for weeks. She never forgot, but now it feels like sacred duty.

By 4:30pm she’s home again, bags unpacked, candles lined up on the mantelpiece. She cleans every surface, fluffs the couch pillows, wipes down the stovetop with lemon spray, even though it was already spotless. She makes the stew exactly how you like it: slow and patient, letting the broth thicken while she peels potatoes with one ear tuned to the front door.

She lights candles one by one until the house is bathed in gold. She places the basket in the middle of the bed, stuffed with everything she gathered today. A clean robe and your comfiest slippers are set by the bathroom door, and there are a few towels in the dryer warming up.

She sets out the telescope on its tripod in the backyard just as the clouds begin to break.

Fairy lights are strung along the fence, and she builds a little nest out of pillows and layered throws on the lawn. There’s a thermos ready and waiting in the kitchen, and she fills it with cocoa as the stew simmers low and rich on the stove.

By the time the clock ticks to 6:00pm, everything is in place.

The coffee tin is full.

The charger is already plugged in by your side of the bed.

The house smells like rosemary, red wine, and home.

And Wanda, wearing your favourite apron and a hopeful look in her eyes, is finally ready to welcome you back.

-

By the time you pull into the driveway, the sky is bruised with violet and soft grey. You cut the engine and sit there for a moment with your hands on the steering wheel, too tired to move. There’s a ringing in your ears that hasn’t gone away since mid-afternoon - the kind that comes from pushing yourself too far, too long, without pause.

The porch light is on. You hadn’t noticed before, but it makes you feel oddly seen. Like someone was waiting.

Your keys rattle weakly in the lock. When the door creaks open, you call out with more breath than voice, “Baby, I’m home…”

What you walk into stops you in your tracks.

The hallway is soft with flickering candlelight, golden and low. Somewhere in the distance, gentle music plays - the kind you can’t name but that immediately calms your pulse. The air smells rich and familiar. Savoury, warm, laced with herbs and something that makes your shoulders immediately drop. Stew. Real food. You hadn’t even noticed you were starving.

You step out of your shoes and leave your bag by the door. Your bones feel heavy.

“Hi, my love!”

Wanda rounds the corner in a blur of warmth - apron on, cheeks flushed from the stove, her hair loosely clipped back with a few strands curling free. She’s glowing.

And then her arms are around you.

You don’t even speak. You just fall into her like gravity, your arms wrapping tight around her waist as your face presses into the warm crook of her neck. She smells like rosemary and comfort and everything in the world that feels safe.

You let out a trembling breath you didn’t realise you were holding, and she feels it. Her hands move slowly up and down your back, not rushing, not saying a word. Just there. Steady. Real. Hers.

You could cry, but you don’t. You just let yourself be held.

Eventually, she pulls back enough to look at you, her eyes studying your face like she’s reading a secret message there.

“Come on,” she whispers. “I’ve got something for you.”

She takes your hand and leads you toward the kitchen. Two wine glasses sit on the counter, one fuller than the other, both catching the candlelight like little pools of garnet. She hands you the fuller one and presses a kiss to your temple with a tenderness that nearly undoes you.

“Thank you, Wanda,” you murmur, your voice rough with exhaustion. You take a small sip - dry, red, exactly the kind you like. It warms your chest on contact.

Your head falls back slightly, resting against the edge of the counter as you look at her through tired eyes. “Your cooking - as always - smells amazing, love.”

“I made your favourite,” she says, smiling over her shoulder as she gives the pot a gentle stir. “Still needs a little longer, but the hard part’s done.”

You smile - a soft, real one this time - and set your glass down. Your hand reaches out, fingers brushing her arm before tugging gently until she turns toward you. Your other hand slides up to cradle the side of her neck.

You kiss her slowly - the kind of kiss that doesn’t ask for anything, doesn’t expect a response. Just… thanks.

“I love you to the moon,” you whisper against her lips.

She smiles into the kiss. “And to Saturn.”

You lean your forehead against hers. “And to Saturn.”

Wanda lifts the lid, gives the stew one last stir, and then turns the burner to low. “Dinner still needs another thirty minutes to simmer,” she murmurs, her eyes dancing. “So I was thinking… maybe we go relax a bit?”

You exhale, practically melted into her already. “Yes, baby. That sounds divine.”

She takes your hand again, threading her fingers through yours, and leads you out of the kitchen. You follow her down the hallway, past framed photos - snapshots of your life woven together in colour and light. The two of you in your first apartment, younger and still learning how to live together. The blurry one from your wedding reception where you’re both laughing mid-dance. Your family all gathered in the garden at the housewarming, holding mismatched wine glasses, sunlight in everyone’s hair.

You swallow thickly. “Where are you taking me, love? Do you plan on killing me for my assets?”

Wanda gasps, smacks your shoulder gently. “Oh hush,” she grins, “I already have those.”

You laugh for the first time in what feels like days.

She opens the bedroom door and steps aside to let you see.

In the centre of the bed is a basket. A beautiful woven one, lined with tissue paper and brimming with soft things. A maroon blanket folded neatly on top, a pair of socks peeking out, and a beautiful green mug with stars painted across the rim.

Your mouth falls open a little. “I - what’s this?”

“It’s for you,” Wanda grins. “Just… things you love. Things that remind me of you.”

You step closer, blinking at it in disbelief.

“Go on,” she encourages. “There’s more under the blanket.”

You kneel gently onto the bed and begin lifting the contents with careful fingers. The softness of the fabric, the familiar scent of your favourite tea, the quiet practicality of a brand-new charger - it’s overwhelming in the most peaceful way. The mug, candies, candles, etc. Just everything that made your heart melt.

She knew you like the back of her hand.

You didn’t know it was possible to feel so loved.

-

After sorting through the basket, after cooing at the socks and hugging the blanket to your chest, you let her coax you into a hot shower. She’d already laid out your robe, warmed a towel in the dryer, and even set your pyjamas by the sink like she was preparing a sanctuary.

You let the water wash over you for longer than usual, letting the steam undo the knots in your shoulders. For once, your thoughts don’t immediately leap back to work. They drift instead to dinner… to wine… to Wanda.

When you come downstairs again, the table is already set. The lights are low, but candles flicker in the centre like lazy fireflies. The wine glasses are full again. A record hums quietly in the corner - Billie Bossa Nova, just barely loud enough to fill the space.

And then there’s the smell.

It hits you like a memory - slow-cooked oxtail stew, thick with root vegetables and herbs, ladled generously over a bed of creamy mashed potatoes. Wanda’s holding two bowls when you enter, and she turns with that look on her face - the one that says ‘this is love and I made it for you with both hands’.

You help her place them on the table, and then you sit. You exhale so deeply your bones seem to settle.

“Alright?” she asks softly.

You nod, smiling just barely. “More than alright.”

She lifts her spoon and gestures to the plate. “Taste it before it gets cold.”

You do - and the flavour sinks into your mouth like it’s hugging your insides. Rich, savoury, perfectly seasoned. Warm. So warm. Melt in your mouth tender meat.

Wanda cocks her eyebrow playfully, “Is it nice?”

You groan softly. “Oh my god.”

Wanda smirks. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It’s amazing, baby. Thank you.” Your voice drops with sincerity. “For… all of this. I don’t deserve you.”

Wanda sets her spoon down, reaching across the table to brush her fingers against yours. “Hey,” she says gently. “You deserve peace. You deserve care. And you always deserve me.”

The lump that’s been sitting in your throat since the meeting ended threatens to break free. You look down and breathe slowly.

“I didn’t realise how tired I was,” you whisper. “I’ve been going and going and… it’s like I couldn’t stop.”

“I know,” she says, her voice steady. “I could hear it.”

You look up again, blinking. “During the call?”

She nods. “You said you were fine, but I know your voice. I know what it sounds like when you’re barely holding on.” She smiles softly. “So I made a plan.”

You reach for your wine, sip carefully. “You’re incredible.”

She shrugs like it’s nothing, but you see the blush rise in her cheeks. “I just love you. That’s all.”

You eat slowly, not rushing anything. The stew warms you from the inside out, and with each bite, the ache in your chest begins to loosen. Wanda fills your glass again without asking. She pulls a blanket over your lap when she notices you shift. And when you stop talking altogether, too tired to even hold up the weight of your own sentences, she doesn’t mind. She just reaches across the table and rests her hand on yours, thumb brushing the knuckle, grounding you without words.

By the time the bowls are empty, your body feels soft. Not weak - just… quiet. Like it’s finally safe to rest.

Wanda clears the dishes, but you follow her into the kitchen, trailing behind in your new socks. You’re halfway through drying your wine glass with a tea towel when she speaks again.

“There’s one more surprise,” she says over her shoulder, voice light.

You arch a brow. “Wanda…”

“No arguments,” she says, grinning now. “Just trust me.”

You set the towel down and hold up your hands. “Lead the way, Maximoff.”

She takes your hand and kisses the back of it. “Gladly.”

-

The moment she opens the back doors, the chill kisses your cheeks and wakes you gently, like dipping your fingers into cool water after a hot bath.

Your breath catches.

The entire backyard is transformed. A thousand tiny fairy lights wind along the fences and pergola beams, casting golden light across the grass like spilled stardust. In the middle of the lawn, nestled under the glow, a thick layered nest of blankets and pillows waits for you - half fortress, half sanctuary. And beside it, angled perfectly toward the clearest patch of sky, stands a telescope.

“Wanda,” you whisper. That’s all you can manage.

She squeezes your hand, smiling softly. “I thought we could end the day looking up instead of down.”

She helps you step barefoot onto the cool patio, a thick throw blanket already waiting for your shoulders. You let her wrap it around you before climbing into the little haven she’s built. The fabric rustles around you as you sink into the pile, the softness cradling you like a sigh. She settles in beside you, tucking the blanket around your feet.

“Here,” she murmurs, handing you a warm thermos.

You open the lid. The smell hits you instantly - rich cocoa, thick and creamy, with a swirl of whipped cream melting into the surface like snowy peaks on hot earth. You take a careful sip and moan softly.

“Actual heaven.”

You smile behind your mug. “You’re spoiling me.”

“That’s the idea.”

She lies back beside you, shoulder brushing yours, and you sit in the stillness together. The night is crisp and clear, each breath fogging in front of your face before dissolving into the dark. Above you, the sky stretches endless - inky and wide, speckled with stars like freckles across the skin of the universe.

After a long moment, you lean forward and adjust the telescope, squinting one eye. You find it quickly, familiar and unmistakable. Saturn.

“There,” you murmur. “Come look.”

Wanda leans in, eyes pressed gently to the lens. A quiet breath escapes her lips. “Oh… wow.”

“Saturn,” you say again, quietly. “You can see the rings tonight.”

She pulls back from the telescope and looks at you, eyes shimmering even in the dim light. “Hmm,” she hums, her head tilting slightly. “I think I love you beyond that.”

You blink. “Beyond Saturn?”

She nods, smile soft. “That’s too close.”

You let out a small laugh, the sound low and aching with affection. “I thought Saturn was pretty far.”

“Not far enough,” she whispers. “I’d love you past every planet. Every galaxy. If you disappeared into the dark, I’d find you there.”

The wind catches your breath for you.

You set your cocoa down beside the blanket pile, lean in, and kiss her. It’s slow and sure and warm despite the chill - the kind of kiss that says thank you without ever saying the words.

You stay like that for a while. Her hand on your cheek, yours against her hip, breath mingling in the cold air. And when you finally pull back, her eyes are still on you like you hung the stars.

“I love you to the moon,” you say again, softer this time.

She brushes her nose against yours.

“And to Saturn,” she replies, voice like a lullaby. “But I’ll follow you further.”

The night wraps around you both - cold and vast, but it doesn’t matter. Not when you’re wrapped in her warmth. Not when you can hear her heartbeat through the layers of fleece and skin and time.

Above you, the stars go on and on.

And beneath them, you finally let yourself rest.

—//—

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 5: mandarin

contents: gojo Satoru x reader, FLUFF , satoru being a little shit, 2 idiots summary: when you consistently ignore gojo’s frequent texts to hang out, he takes matters into his own hands wc: 3.2k

“whoa, didn’t expect you to fall for me like this,” he says, feeling his laughter through his chest, breathing life into the dark corners of your cavity. it was too much. he was always too much. regaining your senses, you squawk out of embarrassment, concrete realization of where you were in the form of his thumb moving back and forth on your side, a half hearted attempt to soothe you. self consciousness fuelling your uncoordinated limbs you scramble to separate yourself from him.

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

ding. ding.  it only took two impatient sounds to disturb your peace. slightly groaning as you hear the echoing source of your current pain: your phone. ever since gojo got a hold of your number it like was like his grating voice was constantly in your head. he constantly texted you, blowing up your phone about anything and everything. from what he swore was the best daifuku in Tokyo he discovered last week, or complaining about how unfair it was that ieri kicked him out of her room again or sending you photos of him post mission, peace signs prominent with a cheery grin while geto was in the background back turned, hunched over presumably throwing up from a particular nasty curse he had to ingest - gojo never failed to message you.

for the most part you didn’t respond to gojo’s constant messages, but that didn’t deter him, if anything it prompted him to text you even more. in your eyes, it was only a matter of time before he would get tired of you - you were just waiting for him to realise what you knew was going to happen. it was a reason why you kept your walls so high, you enjoyed the safety and predictability of the darkness and satoru gojo was too bright.

turning back to your desk you pick up your discarded pen, twirling it in your hands absentmindedly. how long have you been at this?  probably 3 hours at least. you quickly skim through his messages while you regather your papers together.

gojo: hehe look at this (2:13pm) [image] (2:13pm)

you open the attachment begrudgingly, the unopened image taunting you, peaking your curiosity. it was a blurry photo of an annoyed geto, mouth open probably cussing gojo out, violet eyes flashing in warning looking beyond the camera with his arms attempting to grab the phone from him. his dark bangs frame his face as usual but the rest of his dark hair was pulled into two high messy pigtails. snorting in amusement, you download the image - ah a new treasure. sometimes gojo could be useful. you return to the message thread, seeing a flow of multiple messages.

gojo: bbbbbb <3 (4:03pm) im booooored booooooooooored lets hangggg (6:04pm) lets do something rn (6:10pm) omg when r u gna stop ignoring me lol (6:20pm) (◞‸◟；) stoppp (6:21pm) how come u never answer me "( – ⌓ – ) (6:22pm) not cool b (6:25pm)

you easily silence your phone before hastily typing in a message to appease him.

you: busy (6:40pm)

gojo: (ᴗ_ ᴗ。) busy??? the whole day?! (6:40pm) busy with what (6:41pm) with whaaaat bbb ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡) (6:43pm)

you don’t bother answering him, instead choosing to ignore him for what seemed to be the millionth time . you really had to get this done – not that you wanted to hang out with gojo anyway. discarding your phone on your bedside table, you groan when you make your return to your desk. this was the worst part about being a sorcerer : the paperwork. you’ve put off the reports for the last 4 missions that you went on, plus you had to do the rest of your homework. you palm your temple with a sigh of anticipation in what surely was going to be a long night.

and then you hear it; a whine of your name beyond your door paired knocking on your door to an uneven rhythm. ughh. you could just imagine the overly dramatic pout on his face.

as to appease the assault that your door was taking, you opened the opposing barrier with a scowl on your face.

“how come you don’t answer my messages?” gojo immediately whines the minute he sees you.

“I told you, I’m busy!”

“but we’re friends! you answer suguru and shoko!”

“yeah because they don’t message me every 2 seconds – my phone is usually on silent anyway, so I forget to check.”

“ughhh… sooooo, can we hang out now?” he gripes, lowering his dark glasses, showing the crocodile tears dancing on his waterline.

“...i have all this paperwork to do, gojo.” you say opening your door wider, gesturing to your messy desk.

he sighs exasperate throwing his hands in the air. “…fine.” pout on full view he turns his firm back, not sparing you a second glance retreating into his room next to yours.

huh. that was easy. part of you felt validated in his easy retreat, it was something that you were used to, something expected – even from the strongest.

you settle back in to your desk, cursing your past self for putting this off for so long.

okay, okay, where were you? concentrate. ughhhh … what happened in nagasaki again? oh right it was that stupid scissor curse that cut you up pretty badly – not your best moment. geto really saved your ass back there with rainbow dragon. he ended up swallowing the curse later and annoyingly scolded you. but he also complained -

“babe!! i'm hooooomeeee!” the door handle rustles before abruptly opening, a mop of tousled white hair, barges into your room with no warning. your wide eyes narrow at the annoyance. waltzing in with a pep in his step, obnoxiously swinging a plastic bag filled to the brim of multiple cakes, sweets and sugary drinks was gojo with an aggravating smirk. you stare at him, hoping your heated glance would melt his grinning face off.

“don't give me that face, grumpy! i got ya some concentration snackies - aren't you glad i thought of you, huh? im such a good friend.” poking your shoulder in greeting ignoring your exasperated pout.

“no one appreciates me here! i'm more than just a pretty face, y'know.” gojo responds to your silence with a dramatic sigh. he settles the bulging bag on the floor he tosses his too long body onto your bed, jostling the soft pillows. you tsk in disapproval.

cooing as he spots Bun Bun peacefully resting on the middle of your bed, you watch as gojo's long limbs dramatically flail to pick up the pink bunny stuffie. “hey, lil’ guy,” he whispers, his slender nose nuzzling Bun Bun's plush cheeks, “i know, I know, babe’s not being fun again. yeah i know, i told her don't worry.” turning his head to meet your incredulous glare. your eye begins to twitch in annoyance, "that's not what he's saying!"

“uh huh, you're just jealous of our bond." he scrunches up his nose at you, " y’knowww you’re gonna get wrinkles early if you keep frowning so much!” gojo practically sings from your bed, infinity easily going up as you launch an eraser at him angrily. he snickers before settling on his side, moving Bun Bun lovingly to share the same pillow as him.

ignoring gojo was no easy feat, but luckily you were very experienced in that field. returning to your work on your desk, you bite your tongue with the urge to cuss him out. you wheel your chair around to fully ignore his distracting presence.

he always took up too much space, his very energy making it hard to focus.

resting your head on your palm, you prop your head up attempting get back into the zone of concentration.

alright, nagasaki. you smirk as you remember how geto complained how terrible it tasted and how amazing that ramen was that you and geto had after. he was worried about your shallow wounds despite your constant reassurance that you were fine, ugh suguru was way too considerate. you pretty much had to beg him to go get some food, you remember how you grinned self righteously as you watched his hesitation disappear the minute he tasted the broth. you had a suspicion it was partly because the curse tasted so bad. but that didn't stop geto from carrying you back on rainbow dragon despite your fear of heights. you wince as you remember ieri smacking you and geto when you got back because she was so pissed when you didn't return straight away with all of those cuts – 

“whatcha doing?” you feel gojo's warm breath in your ear, the action making you shudder at the intrusion.

abruptly you turn your head to see gojo’s face right next to yours over your shoulder, nose daring to brushing his smooth cheek.

yelping loudly, you jerk to the side causing you to fall off your chair in a fright. you hear gojo’s amused snort as you close your eyes waiting to hit the ground but … it never came.

warm arms lightly grip your abdomen preventing you from hitting the ground, you feel gojo’s firm chest behind your back as you sit clumsily in his lap, legs swung over to his left side. his skin was warm and soft, invading your senses with his familiar scent. the weight of his body against yours felt foreignly comforting. engulfing your already panicked state in a new level of unease, you weren't completely sure if you enjoyed his warmth or resented him for making you question it. you unconsciously settle your hand on his forearm against your stomach finding an overwhelming needing to ground yourself. you hoped that he couldn’t feel your loudly beating heart through your chest, or that his six eyes couldn't see the deeply buried holes in your heart. “whoa, didn’t expect you to fall for me like this,” he says, feeling his laughter through his chest, breathing life into the dark corners of your cavity.

it was too much. he was always too much.

regaining your senses, you squawk out of embarrassment, concrete realization of where you were in the form of his thumb moving back and forth on your side, a half hearted attempt to soothe you. self consciousness fuelling your uncoordinated limbs you scramble to separate yourself from him.

“ompff – uhh – careful where you're – ompff –  stepping, babe!” he stutters quickly, worry and slight panic tinging his voice. his body attempting to shift with your fussing to neutralize your erratic momovements, “look, I don’t give a fuck – oh geez – but the clan still wants an heir so – please be careful“ a large hand goes to still your shin.  

an heir? does he mean – oh. OH. in a panic you finally manage to slide down onto to the floor legs still draped over his thighs.

“d-don’t you have anything better to do?!” you deflect refusing to look him. crossing your arms across your chest, trying to distract yourself form thinking about gojo in that way.

gojo’s eyes widen. whoa, what's with that expression? this was ... new. he couldn’t help but notice how your face flushed, the heat gradually spreading to the tips of your ears, down your the column of your pretty throat...

“you would know if you checked your messages!” he huffs ignoring the way his ears turn pink, “we’re gonna hang out when you're done.”

when did you agree to this? ­­

"who decided that?" you said fighting the blush you knew decorated your face, face full of defiance.

he whines your name, “c'mon!!”

“ugh, I still have to do the stupid paperwork! i’ve put it off too long.” you groan flopping on the ground, using your hands to rub your eyes. truth be told, gojo being in your room felt almost suffocating. the air felt too stifling, like you were backed into a corner forced to always playing defence with the strongest. and you didn't want to play his stupid games.

breathing softly you watch as the growing shadows on the your ceiling frame your nagging restlessness to get work done.  gojo’s face popping into your view.

“why don’t you take a break? you’ve been working hard for hours – let’s have some snacks!” he adds, attempting to sweeten the deal. you shrug noncommittally, you just wanted to be free of that stupid paperwork. you hear the rustling of a plastic bag, as he digs through his haul, mumbling to himself, "not this.. ugh not this one either, hmm, that's definitely mine .. oh fuck i forgot i bought this heh.. where is it? i just..."

“m’ not in the mood for sweets, go–“

“i got you – I knew you’d want something boring!” you hear him rustling deeper into the plastic bag. you smell a burst of citrus. his grin comes into view again while he roughly shoves a few segments of a mandarin into your mouth, forcing the rest of the peeled fruit into your hand.

“mph! dude– “ you quickly chew the segment in surprise, mouth bursting with the refreshing juice, the orange’s soft flesh tangy and slightly sweet. “… huh. thanks.”

gojo hums victoriously, falling on his back beside you, legs bent, foot tapping out a rhythm.

you split your remaining mandarin in half, feeling for the larger portion and passing it in gojo’s surprised hands. slender fingers briefly mingling with each other, electricity brewing between them. you retreat your hands quickly, purposely ignoring his lingering fingers.

if he notices, gojo makes no mention of it, popping the whole mandarin in his mouth.

“so, why was suguru’s hair in pigtails?” you ask, amused smile growing on your face from the memory of geto’s disturbed expression. chewing on another segment, you could easily imagine geto's loud grumble and exasperation that you frequently heard when gojo was around him.

gojo barks out a laugh, half chewed mandarin still in his mouth. “idiot fell asleep in the common room and y’know… anything is fair game there,” he says shifting slightly to look at you.

“oh god. pff, yeah honestly he had it coming. poor suguru though, he’s been so busy lately, must've been exhausted… i’m surprised he didn’t murder you.”

“oh he tried, he summoned 3 curses,” gojo snickers, pushing his dark glasses up.

“… next time we should do space buns,” you grin mischievously.

“oh fuck that’s a great idea!” he shouts, repeatedly tapping the ground in excitement, matching grin on his face. gojo was practically vibrating with mischief, inching closer to you on the ground.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. often times gojo reminded you of an overly excitable puppy, constantly wagging his tail, begging for attention. usually you'd get the puppy who would become your shadow, whining constantly for a walk and would harness their chaotic energy to trash a room just because. there's a reason why you were a cat person.

“but oh my goddd, have you touched his hair, babe? it’s so fucking soft? i don’t understand what he does but -" you watched gojo talk animatedly. his mouth dressed up in a boyish gin, pearly teeth on full display, emphasizing the dimple on his left side, embellishing the joy he was radiating. it was times like these where you were strangely more aware that satoru gojo was handsome. the soft slope of his cupid’s bow that lead to delicate lips, the slant of his slender nose, his soft cheeks -

you shake your head. god, he was so distracting. he was so annoying.

“ - hey? did ya hear me?” gojo asks, poking your cheek. you share back at him blindly, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. "huh?" stretching slightly you shift on to your side, curling your knees together so they almost touch his thighs. "what were you saying?"

“I said, I got you something!” not even bothering to hid his annoyed glare. he props himself up with his hand supporting his head, turning fully to you, mirroring your body. reaching into his back pocket, he takes out a silver phone charm. delicate and elegant, the neat row of varying silver and black beads strung on a intricate chain complimented the silver star at the end.

you blink at him. “wait- for me?” your eyes dart between the phone charm and his expectant smile.

“duh! it’s for your phone! so whenever you see it, it’ll remind you to answer my messages.” he jingles the keychain, waiting for you to take it.

you stare at him, a hidden expression on your face that he couldn’t decipher.

“man, I gotta do everything here, eh?” gojo pouts, rolling his eyes. he gracefully rolls over to reach for your phone on your bed side table with a sigh. plopping back down on his side, he loops the charm on to your phone grinning triumphantly.

“hehe, look, babe – now we have matching ones!!” he takes out his own phone to show you the same silver keychain on his phone. gojo hands you your phone back, immediately you admire the way the way the keychain captures the dim light of your bedside table. pretty. although gojo’s antics were dramatic and sometimes downright irritating, his constant effort to get to know you despite your adamant refusal was … endearing. you noticed that he was generous, not only constantly buying you, ieri and geto snacks or meals without prompting but generous in his time, annoyingly checking up on you when he didn't see you for a few hours. you had to admit that he did put up a good fight to your frank rebuffs. he noticed a lot more than you gave him credit for, he cared for his friends in his own way but fierce so. despite his arrogant and brash behaviour maybe, just maybe, he could be someone you could talk to once in a while, someone you could let in just a little bit. it wouldnt hurt to be on friendlier terms, right?

“… thanks gojo.” you say smiling in realization as you fiddle with the star of the keychain, unable to look at him.

something in gojo’s stomach flutters, not expecting your bashful demeanour. if you smiled at him like that, he think might collapse. he wasn’t even really sure what he did that granted him the privilege to see your smile, a genuine one - it was just a little trinket, an inexpensive thing he picked up because he was tired of radio silence from you. he smiled thinking about your reaction of something else, perhaps if he got you those specific chips that he noticed that you liked that were notorious for being be sold out at the convenience store or maybe a scarf since you always seemed to be cold or, or maybe even a necklace with his initials -

“… hey? gojo?" you ask softly.

"yes, my grumpy lil prince–" "shut up, before i take back what i'm going to say, idiot." you scoff, your dead pan glare, effectively doing the impossible in shutting up gojo. you sigh. god, were you going to regret this decision? "... if you give me like 2 hours in silence.." you palm your forehead, wondering if you've gone absolutely insane.

".... maybe we could watch a movie or something after?” you force out softly.

gojo smiles widely, almost bouncing up and down as he gets up from the floor, offering you a hand to help you up. you stare at his out stretched hand suspiciously.

“well, the sooner you get started the sooner we can watch!!”

hesitantly you accept his hand and his help. it was a strange feeling, one that you weren’t sure yet that you liked yet. you quickly sever the contact, dropping his hand immediately, not wanting to get used to this new sensation. you huff , moving towards your desk, reshuffling the papers with renewed energy.

turning around to face him, voice authoritative with warning, you meet his covered eyes “when I mean silence though gojo, I mean absolute silence.” he nods, looking back at you, he uses his slender pointer finger and thumb to zip his mouth, and toss away the key behind him, a promise in his bright eyes behind his dark glasses.

gojo resettles on your bed, with a triumphant sigh. he makes a point to grab Bun Bun to lay on his chest as he takes out his phone to play some games, his silver phone charm dancing in the light. you turn around, hands itching to finally get some work done, concentrating on summarizing the straight forward mission in hamura. an unusual silence aids the scratching of your pen on paper, propelling your rapid thoughts. but after 20 minutes of working, you hesitantly clear your throat, turning back to take a peek at gojo, his eyebrow quirked.

“… so, uh what movies are playing right now?”

you can hear the joy in his voice when he starts to weigh your options, even asking Bun Bun for his opinions and occasionally spoiling the plots for other options. With a soft grin, you found that this time you didn’t mind the chatter... or the company.

a/n: he just wants to spend time with you ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡) --

head image credit: Itadakimasu dividers from: @/adornedwithlight

[the-froschamethyst4]

I Will Always Protect You

𖤐Pairing: Step dad! Gaz x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, angst, deadbeat ex-husband, language, married couple, children, arguing, fighting,

𖤐Summary: Your ex-husband tries to 'come back' into your kids lives but your children show that they don't want to go with him, so what happens when their step father Gaz steps in to put this deadbeat in his place

————

————

8:00AM

Y/n's day started out like everyday, waking her children up for school, Skye was getting her school clothes on and Kai was coming downstairs to come eat breakfast.

Gaz was coming downstairs as well, sitting next to Kai as he ate breakfast.

"Skye! Baby, come on!" Y/n calls from the kitchen and she could hear her daughter running downstairs.

"Sorry, mama," she says, sitting next to Gaz.

Gaz has joined the family when Skye was 2 and Kai was 5, a young age for the both of them. Gaz loved Kai and Skye, and the kids treated him more like their father than their actual father.

Their actual father was a fucking deadbeat. He started dealing drugs when Skye was only a baby and Y/n didn't know till a strange man came to her door asking for him and wanting 56k from her deadbeat husband.

Scared the shit out of her, as it should. So, she filed for divorce and he's been bumming off his 19-year-old girlfriend and her parents at the ripe age of 35.

"Come on, let's go catch the bus," Y/n says as the kids got off their chairs and Gaz grabs his coffee following his wife and the two kids to the bus stop.

"Mama, can we go to the store later?"

"Why, baby?" She asked her daughter.

"Because I'm out of mouthwash-"

"OH SAME HERE!" Kai interrupts Skye.

"We'll see okay," she kisses her kids foreheads and sent them off to school.

---------

1:40PM

It was around noon now. Y/n usually stayed home on these days to do some chores around the house and also catch up on some work from home.

As Y/n was cleaning the dishes from this morning, there was a loud knock on the door, it rattled the front door and she could hear the glass door in front of it also rattling.

She wipes her hands and looks out through the tall window next to the front door, she sees a man in a hood.

"Fuck no," she says to herself before backing from the door and going to the kitchen to grab a knife just in case. She hides it behind her back and goes back to the front.

She opens the heavy door first and looks through the glass window, seeing this person lift his head and showing a bruised face, a cut lip, and some teeth missing.

"Mark!? What the fuck are you doing here?" Y/n asked, behind the glass door as her barrier to keep this deadbeat away from her.

"Y/n, I am so, so, so fucking sorry for what I have done to you. I am truly sorry-"

"Why the fuck are you here Mark? I will call the police if you don't leave my property," Y/n threatens. She wishes Gaz was here, Mark was terrified of Gaz.

"Please, listen to me first...I just wanna see my kids, and I want to see how, my girl is doing."

"I am NOT your girl, definitely not anymore, you don't have the right to see your kids anymore, you lost custody and you only get supervised visits by the local police, you are not welcome to or in my house now get off my property, Mark," Y/n shuts the door and slides down the door hot tears filling her eyes.

Y/n and Mark were a very happy couple, but when she gave birth to Skye, the drug dealing happened, along with cheating and drinking.

---------

2:20PM

"I'm home!" Gaz yells. Y/n comes out of her home office and looks at Gaz.

"Hi, honey, how was work?"

"Same-old-same-old," Gaz says with a soft smile on his face before pulling Y/n into a hug and kissing her lips.

"MAMA!" Y/n and Gaz turned hearing Kai's voice, it was cracked like he was crying. Soon Skye came in and hid behind Y/n and Gaz as Y/n bent down to her children's level as Gaz looked at the front door.

"My babies, what is wrong?"

"I can give you a guess," Gaz says as Mark stood in the doorway.

"I'm calling the fucking police," Y/n says. "I told you if you didn't leave."

"I just want to see my children, Y/n. Why are you holding them from me!?" Mark pleads.

"Because they don't want to see you!" Gaz steps in, blocking his step children's view of Mark.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Kyle!"

"WHAT!?" Gaz marches to Mark.

Y/n moves her children out of the living room to the stairs. "Go upstairs, okay. I'll come and get you when it's over."

Her children run upstairs to not want to see or be involve what might happen. Gaz takes Mark to the ground, Gaz on top of him and he was just cussing and yelling at him, not swinging any punches at Mark or anything.

Gaz was holding back a lot of his strength of wanting to put Mark in the hospital-no that's too generous, not wanting to put Mark 6 feet under right now.

"DON'T YOU EVER FUCKING COME AROUND MY FAMILY AGAIN! MY KIDS DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU! YOU ARE A FUCKING DEADBEAT, SAD, SORRY EXCUSE OF A FATHER, HUSBAND AND A MAN! YOU ARE A FUCKING COWARD AS WELL!!" Gaz gets off Mark and grabs him again basically tossing Marks dirty ass out the door.

"Gaz?" Y/n watches him slam the door shut. Y/n walks towards Gaz placing her hand on his arm as he was trying his best to calm down and not lash out even more.

"Mama? Gaz?" Kai and Skye peak around the corner seeing their mother and step father.

"Is he gone?" Skye asked.

"Yes, baby," Y/n scoops Skye into her arms and ruffled Kai's hair. Kai looks at Gaz and runs up to him, Gaz bends down picking Kai up and hugging him.

"Thank you, Gaz," Kai says into Gaz's neck. Gaz felt his heart swell and wanting to burst in his chest.

"Of course, kiddo...I will always protect you kids," he says, kissing Kai's temple.

----------

9:10PM

It was getting pretty close to the kids' bedtime. Skye was brushing her teeth as Gaz was telling Kai some stories about his time being in the Military.

Skye walks into her older brothers' bedroom and sat next to Gaz wanting to hear his stories as well. Both children soon fell asleep, Gaz gently picks up Skye and takes her to her bedroom.

Pulling back her covers and gently placing her down, Gaz was about to turn off her little lamp on her nightstand, but she stirs in her sleep making Gaz stop.

"I love you...daddy..." Skye says. Gaz's heart shatters now.

Skye and Kai have never called Gaz daddy, dad, father, or anything other names just Gaz or Kyle. It first started out as them just saying Kyle and when they got use to him then Gaz. It felt like an honor being called 'daddy' now.

"Are they asleep?" Y/n asks.

"Yep..." Y/n could see the biggest smile on Gaz's face.

"What? What's that face?" Y/n asked, getting close to Gaz to examine his face.

"Skye called me daddy, along with an I love you as well."

Y/n was happy for him. "I'm glad they're warming up to you, Gaz," she kisses him before they both headed to bed.

[cleoselene]

GOOD NEWS CAR IS ALMOST FIXED AND I SHOULD HAVE MY NEW BABY WITHIN 2-3 WEEKS

also @busty-shackleford who is bringing the vehicle has been v. supportive of my desire to make this an Informed Inforide and of course @sylvieons is also supportive because she also covers her car in bonkers stickers

I am DONE buying stickers lol BUT both friends are visiting within the next month and are bringing some stickers to add to the art installation on the back of my car, designed to torment the people of Robert E. Lee County in Byron Donalds' district. BEHOLD

the only thing I'd consider adding is like a Puscifer demon. I love that little demon she's so cute. I'll see if I can get a decal.

anyway, a full list:

-PRO-AMERICA, ANTI-TRUMP. -BAN THE FASCISTS, SAVE THE BOOKS -Don't like abortion? Then ignore it like you do SCHOOL SHOOTINGS -I STAND WITH UKRAINE -Tori Amos flaming "Resistance" piano -American Idiot heart-shaped hand grenade -Sylvanas Loyalist -Portland State University logo (GO VIKINGS!) -Sweetwater, the music company where I got my guitar -Putin is a dickhead -Twin Peaks owl -a skeleton screaming I DISSENT -The North 1861-1865 CIVIL WAR CHAMPIONS -Working Class, Anti-Fascist -gay heart -orange butterfly (MS symbol) -pixie lady -whale -it's 1:20pm (iykyk) -this weird tooth sticker I got with my boygenius record -I absolutely hate your LED headlights -Halsey -Portishead -the Portland Oregon neon sign from downtown in sticker form -NO NAZIS -I Love My Pitbull (Mr. Worldwide, not the dog) -Taylor Swift evermore (i had this sticker on my old car and it NEVER got sun-bleached it's a powerful sticker) -Garak's Tailor Shop -Cowboy Carter Rodeo Chitlin Circuit -FIGHT OLIGARCHY -I Downloaded This Car (technically true i acquired it from an online friend) -Chicago flag shaped like the ambling cubbie bear -NO KINGS IN AMERICA

[phyrestartr]

Till Death Do Us Part (Miguel x Reader)

Miguel x Husband!Reader W/C: 9.5k

#NSFW, exhibitionist kink, praise kink, hurt/comfort, infidelity, toxic relationships, brief verbal abuse, mending relationships, mentions of medication, mentions of mental illness, difficult/complex feelings and emotions, things work out in the end, nobody dies, the zombies aren't that important, old men just really going through it

Note: I cried a lot writing this lol please also cry and enjoy! (I also tried my best with the Spanish and tried to reference good sources, but I apologize if it sounds whack lol I only know EN and JP o(--( )

-- Till Death Do Us Part --

"(Name), where the fuck are you?" Miguel ran his hand through his hair as he watched the news, as he stared outside at the cascade of chaos. He waited for you to pick up the phone. He'd already called so many times, but you weren't picking up. Why weren't you fucking picking up? 

"Miguel, he's probably fine," Dana cooed as her arms looped around him from behind. "You need to worry about what we're gonna do." 

Miguel shook his head and shoved Dana's arms off of him. "Our daughter–Gabriella–" 

"You mean our daughter?" Her tone was vile. So, so fucking vile.

"Shut up," Miguel barked before ripping the phone from his ear when your voicemail picked up again. He shot you another text, asking where you were before his fidgety fingers scrolled the log up and down, cruelly reminding himself of the messages he'd ignored from you just a few days ago. 

November 18th 7:04am babe come home 7:04am please 12:19pm we can talk about it  12:20pm we'll figure it out 12:46pm gabi misses you 9:34pm call me tomorrow

November 19th 7:35am you still ignoring me? 7:40am gabi wants to call you 7:41am you gonna answer if it's her? 8:05am i'll tell her you're busy with work 9:50pm i miss you

November 21st  9:56pm call me

November 23rd 12:01am i shot someone  12:01am i had to 12:01am but i can't stop thinking about it  12:32am i need you  1:12am please 2:07am miguel

November 30th 7:16am miggs shit's crazy outside 7:17am lock the doors, don't let anyone inside 7:17am maybe stock up on food first idk this might take a while  7:18am but DON'T help anyone who's bit or injured 7:19am they evacuated gabi's school but i don't fucking know where they're going 7:19am i'm gonna find her, i promise 7:20am i love you. stay safe.

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel rubbed his eyes. He sped past his own wall of text starting from that day, December 3rd, and sent another plea, another wish that you'd respond back sooner than a week from now.

"Oh my God, just give it up–" 

"Dana, shut the fuck up, just shut up." 

He called you again. 

And this time, you answered. 

Miguel's heart jumped. "(Name)?" 

"Babe?" You sounded like you were panting, like you were straining against something. "Are–are you okay? Where are you?" A string of coughs punched out of your lungs in rough staccato, pinching Miguel's nerves with every ghastly beat. He was scared. He was so fucking scared. 

"I--I'm," Miguel stammered, still unable to have that conversation, still too much of a coward in the end. "Does it matter?" 

"Just keep the doors locked," you continued. "Keep 'em locked, and…and I dunno if you're in a tower or a house or fucking whatever, but don't leave until things get quiet." You picked yourself up from the ground, Miguel could tell by the scratch of gravel echoing wherever you were. "Don't get bit. Don't help anyone who is bit. Put yourselves first." 

"But, I–you–do you have Gabi?" Panic gripped his throat as jets flew overhead, high above the city. The engines roared a gruesome apology, a sound Ouranos himself must have made when his own children slew him, so filled with godly enmity. 

Then, molten death rained on the city. Miguel stared at roaring explosions dotting the cityscape, watching pillars of flame feed into the world's chaos. His hands trembled when the same carnage screeched through your phone. 

"I'll find her. I-I promise, Miguel, I'll find her and--and I'll–shit."  

There was gunfire. Gunfire encased in wild snarling. It devoured the crack of plastic hitting concrete, the noises you gasped out, the–

Silence.

Miguel hated his mind. He hated how it remembered that one moment so clearly, like it'd happened just a minute before the present. Sometimes, when he felt like torturing himself more, he wondered what your face looked like in those last moments. He wondered where your life flickered out. He wondered when he'd see you stumbling through the streets and have to put a bullet in your head. 

But he'd force good memories to the surface when he found the light growing too dim; that confession and first kiss, starry nights spent lazing on the hood of your jeep, the look on your face when you finally held little Gabriella for the first time–it all chased away the darkness. It all made him feel whole again, it let him see clearly again. But with clarity came the difficulty of accepting what he'd lost.

He found a way to do it. He found a way to talk about you, too. It was hard not to–your old colleagues, other officers of the lost world, were an integral part of the Alchemax colony. Jeff Morales and George Stacy, amongst a few others, had known you, and by proxy they knew Miguel.

"He was a good guy," Jeff had mentioned when the moment felt right. "Bragged about having the best-looking and smartest partner around. Now, I ain't gonna say he was right, but he wasn't wrong." That brought warmth to Miguel's chest, but guilt smothered it too quickly. 

"Never stopped talking about your daughter either." George smiled when he recalled it, but it was something small and morose. "Gabriella, right? Yeah, he said she was a smart cookie. Kind of a brat, apparently, but hey, with that guy as her father? Hah! I'm not surprised." 

Miguel liked having them around. He liked the happy memories they brought to your name.

But on bad days, vulnerable days, Miguel wanted to break their necks and watch them turn so he could kill them again in their undeath; they still had their children, their families. How could they bring up what he'd lost while they still had everything? 

Today was one of those days, too, one where your memory hurt just a little more than usual. Maybe it came with the snow whirling in the blue-drenched outdoors, or the sudden darkness the world lost itself in. But he knew the frostbite decaying his heart came from the eternal proof of your lost existence:

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Why did you apologize? Miguel sighed, and carded a hand through his hair as he paced Alchemax's halls. Enough of that, Miguel. You need to focus. Focus. 

And once he stepped foot in the control room, the routine morning check commenced: doors remained sealed with no record of tampering, security cameras still functioned, the solar panels still collected more than enough light to keep things rolling. Good. Perfect. 

"Hey, hey, how's it lookin'?" Peter asked, a cup of coffee in one hand and his little girl tucked in the other arm. It would've been a wholesome sight, if Peter hadn't ruined it with a too-loud slurp from his mug. Ugh. 

"Fine," Miguel grumbled. "Everything's in the green. Nothing to worry about." He ran a hand over his face with a sigh. "Just have to clear the snow off the solar panels later today." 

"Oooh, snow! It is that time of the year, huh? December already! Who woulda thought. Time goes by pretty quick when you're not worried about getting eaten all the time." Peter looked at his little May and cooed. "Isn't that right, Mayday?" 

Miguel rolled his eyes fondly and shook his head. "If you're that excited about snow, I'll put you on shovelling duty, Parker." 

"Oh, wow, I'm suddenly deaf and can't hear you." Peter shuffled away in his stupid slippers and stupid bathrobe. "Oh, right, right, MJ made bread! Can you believe it? I feel like I haven't had a bread-carb in forever! We really gotta do another supply run or we're eating canned beans all winter long. Y'know what? I'll put it on the 'to-do' list!" 

Miguel threw a glare at Peter over his shoulder. He was annoying, but he wasn't wrong. They did need more food, more supplies, more ways to sustain themselves. Scavenging the dregs of supermarkets and convenience stores wasn't cutting it anymore; there were too many mouths to feed, and shitty, packaged foods wouldn't suffice much longer.

Miguel braced his hands on the centre console after pulling up a satellite map of the surrounding area. The lab they called home laid nestled away from prying eyes of citizens, making it a safer place to start to rebuild the semblance of a normal life. Though, at the same time, it made it more difficult to get in and out of the city in good time. They had to pick their destination on the map, calculate the time it'd take to get there, and then execute the plan with little to no hiccups. It was hard. It was a pain in the ass. But it had to be done.

Miguel took his time scanning through the map, trying to spot any buildings they hadn't already marked off as empty and not worth the trip. These days, they had to get creative, they had to think of places that'd have food where people wouldn't expect, where the average scavenger wouldn't think to look and–

"Shit," Miguel breathed before rushing to move the map. "How could I forget?"

He spotted a small building on the map, one they'd never ventured to, one they never thought to go to. A chain link fence surrounded the perimeter, giving about five metres worth of breathing room around the building. Clusters of huge garden pots dotted the area randomly, along with whatever outdoor trees and shrubs that'd survived all these years on their own.

Miguel covered his mouth as he smiled.

"You might've just saved us, viejo." 

Because you were a country boy. A farmer's son. 

You convinced (begged) him to pull over, to go to the new garden store that'd appeared not too long ago. Miguel, far too smitten with you, couldn't find the heart to say 'no' to the excitement buzzing in your voice. 

The store was filled with beautiful plants, ranging from common houseplants, to tropical rarities that Miguel never knew existed. All sorts of bushy plants, tall single-leafers, and vining beauties lined the displays and bathed in the gentle, constant mist raining down on them. It really felt like a tropical jungle landed in New York. 

You'd sauntered over to the seed section while Miguel wandered through all the store had to offer before finding you again. You had several sachets in your hands and scanned the shelves for anything else that piqued your interest; they were all vegetable seeds, stuff like corn and green beans, tomatoes and onions, but the occasional herb showed itself as well. 

To Miguel, raising vegetables seemed like a cute hobby. But to you, raising crops meant revisiting your childhood. 

"You wanna get some?" Miguel asked. He looped his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he read all the different seed names on display. 

"Yeah. I mean…maybe. Dunno if a vegetable garden'll go with the house." You laughed softly, a little self-deprecatingly, before you reached to put the packets back. "I just–I don't know." 

"I think it'll work." A smile warmed Miguel's face as pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. "We can make a greenhouse. A big one. In the backyard." He kissed your neck next. "You can show me the farmboy fantasy." 

You laughed, turned in his arms, and kissed him. "Done."

Miguel crept up to the garden centre with Hobie and Gwen in tow. Travelling anywhere from the safe confines of Alchemax was something of a nightmare, but Miguel was used to it–despite being the man who knew how to run the building, he too often volunteered to head out on supply runs himself. He needed the space to think, to feel the darkness they’d found themselves in, and to feel the light of the sun on his skin to remind himself it wasn’t over. Because it was far from over. 

The garden centre was surrounded by chain link fences encircling the entirety of the building, the very same ones Miguel had seen from the satellite’s view. Honestly, he found himself surprised to see just how good the place looked–the windows were mostly intact, the fences hadn’t been torn through, the doors were still sealed, and a row of crippled undead and frozen re-deads dotted the perimeter, but none were inside. It didn’t seem like any had ever been inside, actually.

“That’s…kinda weird, right?” Gwen murmured as she adjusted her toque. “This place feels like…like it never went under, or something.” 

“Damn near stuck in the past, I’d say,” Hobie agreed. He looked to Miguel. “Fishy’s an understatement, yeah? Might be some not-so-dead-yets in there.” 

Miguel took a deep breath as he thought. “It’s a plant store. Not the highest priority for scavengers like us.” He headed forward, grip tight on his hunting knife. “Try not to shoot. Not unless there’s a runner.” 

“Better not be any runners,” Gwen grumbled. “It’s December. Hopefully they’re all freezing to double-death right now.” 

Hobie scoffed a smile. “If not, we just give ‘em an early Christmas present, hey?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure they’d love their brains blown out.” 

“Eh. I would.” 

Miguel rolled his eyes as the youngins bickered softly behind him. There was no point stopping them–trying to dad them out in the wilds of New York just gave Miguel a bigger headache, and too often ended in a louder match of bickering and scolding, which then often resulted in the undead stumbling their way. It was always a mess. Maybe he should stop bringing the dynamic duo with him. 

But you’d known them. You were fond of them, too, always letting them off the hook with a slap on the wrist when they were caught vandalizing buildings or stealing from stores when they were teenagers. You laughed when you told Miguel stories about them, about how Hobie’d call you “officer tall, sunny and handsome” to get on your good side (which worked), and how Gwen would try to bribe you with car-washings and babysitting to get you to not tell her dad what happened. You knew they were good kids, just bored and too smart for their own good. Miguel knew that, too; the two of you were thick as thieves back in the day, total petty-crime masterminds. Maybe Hobie and Gwen were your dark apprentices, in a way. 

Miguel smiled faintly. He missed the days where you both broke into abandoned buildings, haunted houses and everything else inbetween to fool around and fuck. It’d always be filmed, much to Miguel’s embarrassment, but watching the videos back always made him feel…wanted. Appreciated. Like a rare piece of art. 

You’d always cheese it up and make it sound like some sort of bad porno or found-footage film, like you didn't just break into Chuck E. Cheese to fuck in front of the creepy animatronics. Breaking the law got you excited, as ironic as that was for a future cop. Miguel thought you were a freak. Miguel was kind of a freak too, though. 

“Fucking God,” Miguel moaned, somehow louder than the squeak of the table hosting your feverish coupling. His hips bucked and rolled against yours in a desperate attempt to keep up with your brutal, delicious pace, and his thighs dug into your sides with his hands clutching to your shoulders for dear life. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you mumbled into his ear. Miguel’s body gave a sharp, involuntary jolt, kickstarting the sudden crescendo of his well-earned euphoria. He let his voice be heard as he arched off that shitty table and up against your solid frame, his hips still rutting and moving in sync with your own. You groaned too, letting yourself be just as loud in the midst of him tightening around your heavy, thick cock pummeling into him. 

“God, lookit that pretty face,” you growled when you pulled back to see how fucked out he was. “You feel good, huh? ‘M I makin’ you cum hard?” Your hand slapped the side of his ass, and Miguel whimpered sharply. “You’re so good, baby, so fucking good. I’ll make you cum again, yeah? Make you cum while you–while you take everything I got.” 

You were terrible. Horrible. A monster in the sack, and apparently in front of powered-down robots. You did what you promised, and ripped another orgasm from his exhausted, over-stimulated body before reaching your own blissful undoing with a rude grin on your stupid, annoying face. 

It made for good content, though.

They reached the front gate without problem, only to find it locked with hefty chains and thick padlocks. If there were people in there, then breaking through the first line of defence wasn’t their favoured option–they didn’t like other survivors, no, and they didn’t work with them without good reason, but they weren’t in the business of sabotaging them, either. 

“Hobie,” Miguel beckoned, muffling the chains’ clanking while holding up one of the locks. 

The young man smirked and flicked his old lock picking set from his pocket. “Don’t mind if I do, coz.” 

He unlocked everything in record time. Miguel thought of you for a moment, and wondered if you’d taught the young man a few nefarious tricks since you, too, were an expert sneak. But Miguel pushed the thought aside as they all carefully, slowly, painstakingly unwrapped the linked metal from the fence, and pushed it open with just as much care to keep the noise to a minimum. It’d be a shame to ring the dinner bell in such an untouched place. 

They relocked one of the padlocks for peace of mind before wandering towards the front entrance. The doors’ windows were boarded neatly and meticulously, Miguel noticed first. He crouched down and noted something blocking the small gap between the ground and the door, but the faintest reach of light still reached through the few cracks that remained. 

“Lights’re on. Front’s boarded,” he sighed before backing up. “Might be a different way inside. Looks like there might be people in–” 

“Miguel!” Gwen whispered. He looked her way, and saw her point to a decrepit shed nestled up against the side of the building, right underneath a large window. Shoved against it laid a single, heavy pot flipped on its end, serving as a sort of stool to get up on. But the lack of snow on the newfound path gave Miguel pause.

“I’ll check it out,” Gwen said before nimbly scampering up the side of the shed. 

Miguel frowned. “Gwen–”

“Relax, I’m just gonna look.” But Miguel did not relax, especially not when she rose on her tiptoes on that shitty, rickety shed roof and peered through the window before her eyes grew wide with a soft woah. 

“Whatcha got, Gwendy?” Hobie asked, approaching the shed himself. 

“You two–” Miguel warned. He looked around cautiously, his body aching with primal instinct–they weren’t alone. There had to be someone else here. Gwen and Hobie had to realize that. They were smarter than this. They wouldn’t do anything stupid. They wouldn’t be hypnotized by whatever was in there and throw caution to the wind to get it. Right? Right. 

…Right?

Excited, Gwen smiled and glanced at the two before looking back at whatever she saw. “There’re–there’s…trees? And bushes with veggies and–and wow, you were right, Miguel.” 

“Well, I say we hop in there and snag a few to bring back, yeah?” Hobie suggested. “Reckon they grew on their own?”

“No,” Miguel scolded. “They didn’t. Come down, right now. We need more people for this.” 

“I’m juuust gonna...” Gwen reached for the window, and Miguel’s anxiety peaked.

“Gwen.” 

“Just a little–” The window groaned as it popped open. 

They froze. They died as statues for a single, long moment, rejecting the need to breathe, letting their eyes freeze solid in winter’s mercy while their ears pricked, searching like the alert deer suspecting death stalking nearby after a misstep on a brittle branch. 

One minute passed. 

Then two minutes. 

Three minutes.

But the birds kept chirping, the world kept spinning, and Ares didn’t come to collect their battle-worn souls.

Gwen looked at her group with a nervous smile, a guilty thing that said, “oops?” 

Miguel was furious. But now was not the time to argue or yell. He could let her father handle that back at Alchemax.

But someone grabbed her, and yanked her inside.

Hobie didn’t hesitate. He jumped up to where Gwen once stood and took the plunge after her, scrambling up into the window, but that same someone shoved him, sending him plummeting down to the frigid concrete. Miguel rushed to his side when he hit the pavement with a choked-back groan. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Miguel rolled him on his back. “Hobie, you fucking idiot.” Miguel’s panic ebbed just the slightest bit when he saw the punk blinking away stars instead of losing consciousness. 

Click. 

Electricity burst through him. Miguel ripped his revolver free of its holster and returned aim up at the shadow in the window. The tired winter sun illuminated a barrel of black metal, and the small, tawny hand holding it steady. A child. A kid. He was pointing a gun at a kid.

“We don’t want any problems, kid,” Miguel called up. He tried to relax, but he couldn’t; children who grew up in this world were ruthless. They were cruel, unrelenting, and unapologetic towards  their targets. He couldn’t blame them. It was all they’d known, all they’d been taught. But they were only as cruel as their teachers made them. Some of them still held on to shreds of humanity. 

And judging by that unwavering hand, Miguel feared their adversary was at least a confident shot if not a full-blooded monster.

“Yeah, c’mon,” Hobie groaned. “We just–we just want some seeds ‘n shit, ‘at’s all.” 

The small hand faltered a bit. Seems she still possessed sympathy. But a voice, deep and thread-bare, called to her. She looked over her shoulder for a second, before pulling the window closed and locking the latch behind her. 

Panic lanced through Miguel as anger possessed Hobie. “I’m gonna snap that kid in half–” but the creaky hinges of the front door opening cut him off. Miguel aimed toward it, and Hobie did the same once he got himself together, but then–then Gwen peeked out. 

“Guys!” Her hand fluttered and ushered them to come. “You’re not gonna believe this! It’s–” 

“Daddy?” A young, gentle voice asked, and Miguel’s gaze snapped to her. To her. To the little girl peeking out from around Gwen. To his baby, to his tiny world, long lost but never forgotten. To–

“Gabriella,” Miguel breathed. 

“Ho-ly shit,” Hobie commented.

Gabi’s eyes flooded with emotion. She sprinted to him, nearly slipping and tripping in the snow before jumping into his arms and holding on tight. She was so much older now, so much bigger; her tiny face used to bury into his stomach, but now she had her head tucked up against his chest, staining his jacket with heavy tears. 

“It’s okay, mija, it’s okay. I’m here, Daddy’s got you.” Miguel kissed the top of her head. He fought back tears of his own, but did so so pitifully with broken, bewildered laughs and shaking breaths. He pulled back and looked down at her face, her beautiful, beautiful face, and carefully wiped away the wet trails freezing on her cheeks. “I–you–L-Look at you. How’d you get so big?” 

Gabi smiled and sniffled as she wiped her eyes. “I-I, um, finally ate my veggies.” She took a breath to try and still the quiver in her lungs between thoughts. “Y-You have so much grey in your hair now!”

A few beats of warm laughter left Miguel. “Yeah, no thanks to you. Spent all this time worrying about you, kid.” His hand, so used to killing and defending, trembled as he brushed flyaways out of her face. "Listen, I–I'm gonna take you somewhere safe, okay? You won't be alone anymore." 

Gabriella blinked. Her small hands clutched his jacket. "What? But–"

"She's not alone." 

Miguel almost didn’t look. He didn’t really believe what he just heard. But when he risked it, when he managed to wrench his gaze away from his daughter and back to the heavenly light of the front entrance, he saw you. The man who'd been haunting him for years. The man who'd been keeping him warm at night. You, his lover. You, his husband. 

(You, the man he betrayed.)

"She hasn't been alone," you said, the words punctuated by hazy clouds of warmth–proof you were alive, that you weren't an illusion, not this time. "I promise." 

You looked so, so tired.

But Gwen was grinning, and even Hobie smiled with a lack of irony as he walked to you and gave you a hug. 

"My man! Officer tall, sunny and handsome in the flesh!" He clapped his hand hard against your back but you hardly wavered. You offered a smile, and hugged him back, short and sweet. 

"Hey, Hobie. Behaving?" 

"Eh. Sometimes." 

"Good enough for me." You let him go and scanned over all the survivors, your eyes not lingering on anyone for too long. "Head inside. It's warm, there's food. We'll talk. Gabs?" 

"Okay!" She hurried to corral everyone inside. "In, in, in, we gotta lock up for the night." Her gaze turned to Miguel as he hesitated, still watching you with glazed eyes. "Daddy, are you–?" 

"I'll be there in a second, mija." And, thankfully, his baby girl read the room better than he could have at that age, and let you two be. 

You looked over your shoulder, so like a predator making sure his cubs were inside and safe before prowling through the night. A man enchanted, Miguel followed you, watching you re-lock the gates they'd slipped through, and lagging behind while you checked the perimeter with thorough hands. Miguel would give anything to have those hands on him right now. 

He didn’t know where to start. "(Name), I–" 

"You said you could take her somewhere safe, right?" You asked before you turned that timid, unsure gaze back to him. "You meant that?" 

The words took too long to register. "I–yeah, I meant it. I mean it." Miguel forged courage out of trepidation and used it to fuel his journey to you. "We have a colony. The old Alchemax building, you remember?" 

"The one that was supposed to get torn down?" You wondered. 

Miguel nodded. "Yeah, that one." 

You kept walking. "Didn't we fuck in your office there?" 

A smile threatened Miguel as he followed like a lost puppy. "We did." 

"Ah. Always liked that building. Liked that desk, too." You shrugged. "Comfy, all things considered." 

Miguel hooked his finger into your belt loop and pulled you closer to him. "Then you'll be happy to hear it hasn't changed." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

You almost laughed, Miguel heard it. But you pulled away from him, and wordlessly finished up the perimeter sweep. 

"You should stay the night," you mumbled on the way back. "Pretty sure it's gonna snow." 

"Might make it harder to get back tomorrow," Miguel said, following you inside and watching you bar the door again. "We came here by foot." 

"No truck?" 

"None." 

"I'll take you back, then. I got a truck." 

"You make it sound like you're not coming." Anxiety gripped Miguel. "I'm not losing you again." He held onto your arm tightly.

You looked troubled, glancing between the hand on your arm and Miguel's eyes. "Did Dana die?" You asked. 

Sickness coiled in Miguel's stomach. "What?" But his tone was too deep, too dark. 

You shook your head. "No, I–I'm sorry I don't know why I said that, I'm just–" 

"We both know why you said that," Miguel said through clenched teeth. 

The way you looked at him, eyes full of bristling hatred for the woman who'd stolen away everything from you, set alight an ancient sort of fear in Miguel’s core. It was so like that night, the one where you'd found out. 

Gabi was still at daycare. You were at work. Miguel was supposed to be at work, too. It could have been the perfect crime, one full of sinful lust and infinite rapture. 

But you came home early. 

You didn't even say a word when you walked into the bedroom and found him tangled in the sheets with Dana, with the woman he'd convinced you to think was a surrogate, not someone he was fooling around with and just so happened to knock up. You had that same stare, rotting with hatred, infested with betrayal, all for the woman underneath your husband. Miguel loathed that look, but he found some sick joy in hurting you, too. Because he hated you, for some reason. 

 Dana laughed when you walked out, some smart comment about how pathetic you were dancing off her plush, scarlet-stained lips. Miguel scoffed a laugh, too. You really were a coward, weren't you? 

(But you weren't.)

Miguel finished with Dana, and she left. He heard her say something to you, something light and playful and damn hurtful, but Miguel didn't say anything. Nor did you. 

He found you in the living room after he'd pulled some clothes on like it mattered. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, staring hard at your profile while you graced the ground with an empty gaze. Your hands clasped and unclasped slowly. Your head nodded shallowly. 

"You're really not gonna say anything?" Miguel goaded. 

"What am I supposed to say?" You offered. 

Something. Anything. 

Miguel laughed, mocking, and sat down across from you, on a mirrored couch, across the glass coffee table you'd picked out together. 

"How long?" You managed. 

Miguel hummed in thought. "How old's Gabi?" 

That got a reaction out of you, something Miguel craved so deeply; your eyelids fluttered in disbelief, and your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath. You looked hurt. You looked like you were feeling something.

"The prenup says you keep what's yours, I keep what's mine, yeah?" 

Miguel's smile faded. "What?"

"Gifts fall into that category. I’m keeping the Jeep." 

"Wait–" 

"I'll find a lawyer in the morning." You got up, and Miguel snapped. 

"You're not even going to fucking ask why?" He yelled, pursuing you into the bedroom. "You don't wanna know why I'm fucking someone else? What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

You ignored him. Miguel's temper flared. 

"Fine! Fine, fuck it, I'll tell you. You don't excite me anymore. You don't try, you don't wanna fuck me, you don't wanna do anything anymore–" 

"Miguel–" 

"You're not the same man I married. What happened to you? When'd you get so–so pathetic and weak?" He took a pause to breathe. Or maybe gasp, more like, as the stabs of panic started to overtake him. "I hate you. You can't leave me." 

He braced on the door, trying to get his bearings on his own, but you were quick to his side. With a strength Miguel loved and adored, you eased him down and fell in slow-motion with his shaky frame secured in your arms. 

“It’s okay, Miggs. You’re okay.” Your fingers combed through his hair slowly. You held him tight,  and convinced him to breathe with you. In and out. In and out. In and out. He breathed to the rhythm of your heart, as it turned out. Slow and steady. Hurt and bleeding. 

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.” 

And he believed you. 

That’s why he took off the ring, and left first thing in the morning. 

Hobie and Gwen passed out after eating their fill of stew. Miguel was beyond annoyed, but couldn't find it in himself to wake them up and leave, not when you were undecided about going with them, but very much wanting him to take Gabi. 

Honestly, he didn't think you'd still be hurting after all this time. Dana was something of the past, a succubus that followed the steps of opportunity and wealth wherever it may go. That's why she wasn't with the group anymore. That's why she left him when he needed her most, and jumped in a truck with strangers while he bled out, alone, in the solitude of an abandoned pet store. 

Chills raked his spine, breaking off chunks of bone when he thought about it. He'd never been so fucking scared in his life. He wished he could have called you to come save him. He wanted you to be the one to walk in there and find him, crying and dying, because you would have stuck by his side through all of those moments; if he hadn't let his emotions get the best of him, if he hadn't made so many stupid decisions, he would've been with you. If he died that day, it would have been in your arms. 

"Hey," you murmured with a gentle touch to his shoulder. Miguel jumped, and your eyes softened. "You okay?" 

Miguel swallowed thickly as he nodded. He looked around, grounding his mind through the touch of your hand, the duo snoring and slumped against bags of soil, and the gentle flickering of the propane campfire keeping the space warm. You taking a seat beside him helped, too. 

Copper eyes took a moment to pace around the old garden centre; true to the outside, it was more or less untouched on the inside, just more cluttered with haphazard barricades and half-done projects. Miguel watched his ghost walk through the isles, once filled with tropical plants, but now replaced with beautiful, healthy trees raised by your hand. It was no wonder Gabi grew up so strong. 

Speaking of--"Where's Gabi?" 

"She's in the next room. Watering some seedlings." You smiled for a fraction of a second. "Putting her green thumb to the test. Tryna show her old man up, I guess." 

Miguel smiled though his eyes stung. "Sounds like an O'hara." 

"Yeah, I thought so, too." 

You shared a few broken beats of laughter before silence fell, just like the snow beyond the door. Then, shyly, like you'd never done it before, your arm reached around his waist. Miguel didn't hesitate to lean his weight into you, though, and that arm didn't wait to pull him in closer right after. 

"So. You still hate me?" Miguel dared to ask before the dancing cinders.

Your hand smoothed up and down his side thoughtfully, soothingly. Miguel melted against you more with a sweet, content sigh. 

"I never hated you," you whispered in return. "Never." 

Miguel made a little sound, something caught between surprise and relief, while your words sunk deep into his thoughts. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t hate him. 

“Then come back with us.” 

“Miguel–”

“There’s no reason to stay here,” Miguel bit out, frustration egging him on. “We have shelter, we have water, showers, rooms, beds–we have everything.” 

“What about food?” You asked quietly.

But Miguel didn’t have an answer; food was the reason they were coming out here, to find more ways to create sustainable living, to try and make life work again. He couldn’t help but look at the trees and bushes bursting with colourful fruits and vegetables, showing off years of dedication and hard work through the literal fruits of your labour. Miguel didn’t know how hard it was to get there. He didn’t think he wanted to know. 

“...It’s a work in progress,” he grumbled instead of admitting the truth. “But we could use your help.”

Your warm fingers dipped under layers of clothes to find the searing skin of your past lover. To Miguel, it almost ached. He hadn't been touched in so long. He hadn't felt your hands on his bare skin for even longer. It intoxicated him, filled his mind and blood with wants and needs–things only you could fulfil for him. 

"I won't leave you hangin', promise that. I just–I need to figure out how this is all gonna work." You looked around the room, taking stock. "Lots of gear we'll need, lots of shit to move. I'll send you back with whatever's already picked. Not worried about the cold with those. The trees are another story, don't want 'em to go dormant while–" 

Miguel kissed you. Sloppily, and wantonly, but with genuinity. Your hands scrambled to hold onto his massive frame when he leaned into you and almost knocked you off the discounted garden bench. This time, you were the one who made a cute, surprised noise. 

And you were the one who kissed him the second time, but it was smaller and shier coming from you, not so eager to consume like Miguel. Your calloused hand held the side of his neck, and your thumb ran along his jawline thoughtfully when you parted, noses bumping and nudging together in a weak nuzzle. 

"I guess you don't hate me anymore?" Your whisper ached Miguel's heart. 

"I never did," he confessed. 

"Then why did you say it?" 

"I don't know." He traced the curve of your lips with tired, weighted eyes. Your cupid's bow had a nice shape to it, so soft and pillowy, meant just for him. "But I didn't mean it." 

"I need a better answer than that." You swallowed down what Miguel could only guess to be a tincture of fear and sorrow, or maybe rage and betrayal. "I've lived with–with that for a long, long time." Your eyes glistened with unspent grief, suddenly. "I need more than 'I don't know.'" 

Miguel's heart lurched. He hadn't bore witness to the consequences of his selfishness before, not with you, not during his affair with Dana. He'd only seen you grow distant across that coffee table far before that god-awful night. And back then, he wanted a reaction. He wanted something like this out of you, but now, he couldn't fathom why.

"Mi amor, I–it's hard to put into words, and I was a stupid kid, and–hey, hey, don't--don't cry." He wiped away the bravest tear to fall first before you turned away, back to the flickering blaze, and rubbed your face roughly. 

"Here's my guess," you muttered. "You wanted to fuck, and I couldn’t–I just–it was hard for me. Or maybe it wasn’t hard, maybe that’s a better way to put it.” You rubbed your face, and held your head in your hands. "The, ah, the medication, the anti-depressants or whatever, they were fucking me up. I didn’t wanna fuck you. I didn’t wanna do anything. Then I was in training to join the force. Wasn't home, and when I was, I was too tired to take care of you and Gabi, so I focused on her. And that made you go back to Dana. Again." 

Bile scorched the back of Miguel’s throat. "You knew." A realisation, not a question. "You knew we–that she and I–" 

"Yeah, that she wasn't a surrogate.” You picked your head up from your hands and stared at the fire, unseeing. “Because she was dating Gabe at the time, and you were with me." You sighed and let a deep, venomous grief finally escape from the space between your lungs, from the spot where that thing had festered like a disease for too many years. 

"I could let it go the first time, turn a blind eye because she gave me–gave us–our daughter, but–the second time? With all the shit you two said?" You shook your head. "I just--I couldn't–I wish you'd just told me what was wrong. I wish I'd told you what was going on with me, too, 'cause I know all the shit that happened is my fault, too.”

"Dad?” Gabi's small, hollow voice rang. The both of you turned to her, but you were the one who got up. 

“Baby,” You said with a hushed tone, somehow so comforting but so afraid. “Hey, you done with the watering?” 

“Uh, yeah, but…um, is everything okay?” Her gaze flicked between you and Miguel. He could almost hear her little mind firing on all cylinders as she tried to parse what they were talking about. “You look sad.”

You crouched before her and took her hands in yours. “We’re talking through some things, honey, it’s alright. We’re figuring things out.”

A light of worried realization illuminated Gabriella’s gaze. Miguel fidgeted and futzed with his clothes as he looked away, unsure of how to deal with her accusatory revelation. How much did she know? Did you tell her anything? No, no, you wouldn’t do that, you wouldn’t dirty her memory of her father like that. You were a good man. You were a better man than Miguel. 

“Oh,” she whispered. 

You nodded and brushed some hair free from her freckled face. "We’ll be alright, baby. You just get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. Lots of loading up to do." 

Gabi whispered the softest okay before giving you a hug. She paused for a moment, before running to Miguel and throwing her arms around him for a few precious seconds before running off to the loft to sleep. 

You sighed, then, and Miguel did too.

You turned to him. “Look, you–I don’t know why I’m starting shit right after you…you wander back into my life,” you murmured, going back to Miguel and straddling the bench before taking his hand and squeezing. “I’m sorry. And I love you. You know that, right?”

That pang came back in Miguel’s chest, but this time, it was warmer.

December 2nd  3:05am i love you 3:06am i'm sorry

Miguel squeezed your hand back and this time, he was the one tearing up. “Mi amor, you don’t need to–you’ve done enough apologizing already.” 

"Miggs, don't say that. I–" 

"Stop. Stop it." Your husband straddled the bench, too, and scooted closer to you until he was more or less in your lap, his heavy thighs draped over your own. 

"But–" you started, and stopped as Miguel cupped your face with both hands and squished your cheeks. You sighed and leaned into his touch when it eased up. "Baby–" 

"Me arrepiento de lo que hice," he whispered to you, "espero algún día puedas perdonarme." He let go of your face, and found your hand to kiss its back. "Te amo." 

You smiled. Something real, something happy. Something that stayed around for more than a few seconds, and made the corners of your eyes crinkle with the beautiful way you'd aged. Then, you kissed him. 

"Te amo," you murmured back, your lips still touching his. "We'll figure this out. Work it out. We have the time." Your lips pressed against his again. "I'm not giving up on us." 

This time, Miguel cried.

It took some time to transport everything to Alchemax. It took a little bit longer to get you there, too. 

But you got there eventually, ready to stay for good, and ready to put Miguel's mind at ease. 

Your old friends and coworkers greeted you, clasping their hands on your back and hugging you tight until you couldn't breathe anymore. You smiled, too, and asked them how they were holding up, if your husband was keeping things in line. You couldn't help but remind them that you in fact hand the handsomest and smartest partner in the world, too. 

They let you get acquainted with the building pretty quickly, probably seeing the haggard, exhausted state you'd lived in for five years and wanting to let you unwind for the first time in a long time. And that called for a hot shower, food, and some sleep. 

"I'll take you to your room," Miguel told you as you both left the common area. 

"My room?" You retorted, sounding mighty confused and damn near insulted. 

Miguel blinked and looked at you. "Yeah. There's enough for–" Oh. 

"What's yours is mine, yeah?" You said, stern and a little bit spicy. "Then your room is mine. And your ass is–"

"Câllate," Miguel cut you off with a smile. "I'll take you to our room." 

He led you there with a bit of a spring to his step, and you kept up with as much enthusiasm. The room was nothing special, featuring nothing more beyond a mediocre bed, uninspired furnishings, and random knick knacks Miguel had left here over the years. But it was home. Your shared home. 

"Huh." You looked around the room. "I think that coffee table woulda looked nice here." 

Miguel scoffed a laugh and rested his hand on the small of your back. "You think so? I think it'd clash." 

"Yeah, well, you have bad taste, hun." 

"Oh, wow, you're really gonna say that when I'm married to you?" 

"I'm the one who confessed first. I'm the one who proposed. Pretty sure it's safe to say I picked you." You leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “And I have good taste.”

Miguel felt his face get hot. "Shut up and take a shower." 

"Your wish is my command." You set your pack down by the bed before sliding open the door to the ensuite. Miguel watched you like a hawk, his prey drive skyrocketing when he caught swaths of your bare skin peeking out from the washroom. He wanted to watch more, but you deserved a little privacy. 

"Oh," you said, peeking out from the doorway. "I, uh, kept my phone through everything. There're some photos of Gabi, if you wanna check it out." You vanished back into the bathroom and Miguel heard the water turn on. "It's in my pack! In the shitty little phone pocket thing." 

"Yeah, I–okay, I'll take a look, thanks." Miguel smiled, and rummaged through what you'd brought with you before pulling out that beat up phone with the charger still plugged into it and kept together with bandages of tape. Colour him impressed. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and went straight for the camera roll. There were loads of new pictures ranging from Gabriella when she was littler, to pictures of animals that Miguel guessed Gabi had a hand in.

There were old pictures, too. Mostly of Miguel, as embarrassing as that was, but the baby photos took over his reign once that perfect little girl entered your life. It made Miguel wish he’d taken more photos, that he hadn’t thought it was too cliche and embarrassing to capture every moment. He used to say shit like, “Do you have to take a photo? Can’t you just live in the moment?” but you’d stick your tongue out, give him a pinch or a bite on his cheek or something else in retribution. Because you didn’t care, you wanted to look back on little memories. 

He scanned through photos until he caught one that sent a rush of red to his features; it was of him, on his back, eyes teary and face alight with a fierce blush as you, well, obviously fucked him stupid. It was the only one of its kind. Maybe you forgot to delete it? Maybe–

The videos. Oooh, now that had Miguel excited. Miguel scanned through the other folders, but found nothing, much to his dismay and relief, seeing as Gabi probably had free access to your phone. 

But then, he spied a locked folder. 

The first password he tried worked (your anniversary because duh. You were such a sap), and a whole catalogue of videos and pictures were unleashed. 

Miguel glanced up at the washroom door before he skimmed through. He remembered all of these places (but the geo tags helped, too. Christ, you were so organised with your exhibitionist porn), ranging from IKEA after closing, to an abandoned amusement park. He still didn’t know how you picked out these places, or how you knew how to get into them without getting in heaps of trouble with the authorities. 

He tapped on a video and bumped the volume up a couple notches, just so he could barely hear; it was him on his knees, on a rusty old ferris wheel, staring up at you like you were God himself as he gripped your thighs and did his damndest to give you the blowie of a lifetime. Your sighs and soft moans rippled through the speakers like waves lapping at the shoreline. Present Miguel rubbed his mouth, worrying at his bottom lip before licking the dryness away. 

“Good boy,” You whispered on the other side of the camera. Your hand came into view and carded through dark locks before cupping his cheek. Miguel of the past turned into your touch and took your thumb into his mouth while his hand took over stroking your length from base to tip over, and over again. 

Miguel swiped to the next video. He was on his back this time, in your shared bedroom, if that duvet cover was to be trusted, while your fingers plunged deep inside of his heat and tore loud moans and gasps from him. He remembered this; you called it an experiment before you bullied his prostate with three, thick digits.  

"How's that feel, gorgeous?" You purred. Miguel swallowed thickly, both in the video and in the now. His hesitant hand crept down his thigh slowly, like he was trying to hide it from himself and call it an accident as he reached to palm himself through his jeans while he watched. He almost felt guilty. But that's what made it better. 

"Good. Really fucking good." His past self rocked down against your fingers, choking on a needy whine as his eyes slid open, and found you. "I need you, mi amor. Please–" 

"I know, babe, I know. I'm almost done here," you promised. You tilted the camera down to his stretched hole to catch what you did next. "Then you can have whatever you want from me." 

You pressed your pinky in, then, and Miguel of the present bit his lip as his shocked gasp and shaky cry pierced through the speakers. Miguel still couldn't describe the deranged pleasure he got from having half your hand in his ass, nearly to the point of fisting him. 

Miguel switched to a different video quickly. The next one was in the Jeep you loved so much. You were both out camping for the weekend, something you loved and Miguel had learned to love; that stupid red truck became home for so many long weekends, it became host to long hours of napping and intimacy, it turned into one of Miguel's favourite places. 

The video started with you adjusting the camera and squinting at it while Miguel’s younger self bitched and moaned in the background. 

"I'm just making sure the tripod's working 'n shit, babe, just gimme a sec!" You whined back. 

"My dick's getting soft," Miguel threatened, so blasé but annoyed at the same time. "Come on, viejo." 

You pulled away from the camera, grinning smug as a fox, and scooted back to your lover. His past self was lounging, hair and clothes already a mess from the prologue to this movie, as he watched you.  

"I'm here, I'm here." You kissed him, and Miguel could almost taste the s’mores on your tongue, the coffee on your lips. "Sorry, just wanna make sure it's perfect." 

"Oh, yeah, 'course. Gotta make sure your indie porno looks good." 

"Hey, one day we're gonna look back on this! It's worth it, baby, trust me." 

"Whatever. Just kiss me," Miguel demanded with a laugh. And you did as you were told, kissing his lips, then down his chest, then–

"Knew you'd like watching 'em back." 

Miguel jumped, nearly dropping the phone as he jerked his hand away from his clothed bulge. "I, uh–what?" he asked dumbly as he stared at your built frame leaning against the doorframe. God, you were still an impressive specimen. He wished that loose towel would just drop from your hips already.

"Our, ah, home videos." You grinned, so much like that fox from the past, and paced to Miguel. "Nice looking back, ain't it?" You cupped the underside of his jaw and tilted his face up. "Got you a lil' excited, yeah?" 

You weren't wrong. With a hammering heart, burning skin, and tingling nerves, he couldn't deny he was stuck deep in a pool of desire and need. And now with you handling him like this–fuck. He was in trouble. 

Miguel nodded weakly. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Just a little." 

“I’ll help.” You eased onto the bed and took great care in settling behind him. "Let the video play," you whispered against his neck before leaving a possessive kiss. 

Miguel leaned back into you. He watched you pop open his jeans and slip a hand down, down, down, until your warm palm met his aching length. A shuddered breath escaped him when you felt him up, pulled him free, squeezing and stroking in all the right spots; it'd been so long since anyone touched him. It'd been so long since he touched himself. 

"I, ah, don’t think we–did we lock the door?" Miguel heard himself moan in the video, and he dared another look; your head bobbed between his thighs while fingers pistoned into him. He wondered if you would do that to him again. Maybe tonight. 

"Nope.”

“Shit.”

"Mmmh. You want me to stop jerking you off so you can lock it?" 

"No." 

You chuckled. "Okay." 

Your hand still worked him slowly and thoughtfully while lovers of the past filled in the rest of the silence. Miguel's hips bucked, and you hummed, so pleased with yourself. Pleased with yourself for pleasing him. Something Miguel found self-value in.

"I think I, uh, I think you mighta been right," he murmured to the air, trying to control his voice. Your gentle hum of intrigue spurred him on. "I think I need you to fuck me more than I realized. Need you to want me, ‘n…take me." 

“Yeah?” You asked before sinking a bite into his neck. “Figured you had somethin’ of a praise kink. Makes sense, in hindsight.”

Miguel gasped when you picked up the pace. “Fuck–I’d call it…mmmmn, I’d call it a-a love language–”

“Huh, didn’t know there were six love languages–”

“Sh-shut up, shut up, you know what I–what I mean–!” Miguel bit down hard on the inside of his mouth as his hips rocked up into your cruel, talented hand. He was close. How embarrassing. “I, uh…physical touch. Words of affirmation.”

“‘Needing my husband to fuck me and tell me I’m sexy.’” Miguel moaned and dug his head back into your shoulder as you chuckled. “That sound about right?”

“Viejo,” he whined, setting the phone aside to be forgotten. “I–”

“I know, baby; show me how hard this love language makes you cum.” 

It only took a few more strokes for Miguel to come undone. His teeth clattered together as he strained to keep his voice on lock as a forgotten rapture ripped the air from his lungs and electrocuted every vessel in his body. He clung to the other arm that’d come to wrap around his chest and hold him against you while you worked him through the motions, slowing down, accommodating the way his body reacted to the blinding pleasure. There were words said, probably encouraging ones muttered into his shoulder, but Miguel didn’t have the mind to parse the meaning of what you’d said. 

“Y’know,” you tried again when Miguel’s mind levelled out, “I think I have a praise kink, too. But a complimentary one. One where I like praising you.” You rested your chin on his shoulder and hummed. “Hm. Who woulda thought.”

“Hah. Good to know you’re still annoying,” Miguel said with a chuckle. He scrunched his nose up when you licked the side of his face. “(Name)--” 

“No.” You bit his cheek this time, and he sighed. You did, however, feel his softening cock start to come back to life again. “Want me to lock the door now, old man?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. You got off the bed, letting the towel fall where it may, and Miguel finally gazed upon his lost treasure. “And set up your phone. We need to update the archives.”

You grinned when you turned back to him, and Miguel felt so at ease. 

There were still things to work out: the mental illness you hid from him, the cheating Miguel tried to hide from you, the little secrets you both kept wedged in the darkest cracks of your minds. But with you with him, the man who refused to give up on their bond and their love, Miguel felt safe indulging in mindless pleasure you so generously gave to him. Neither of you were about to seal away the past again, but if you could share in the good of your relationship while acknowledging the bad, then hope wasn’t lost; it was found in the moment you’d pulled his old wedding band from your pack, and slipped it back on Miguel’s finger that night, murmuring the words you said in a church so long ago:

“Till death do us part.”

[pearynice]

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

5k words - Ao3 Link

Dad 

7:12pm

Does he listen to you

You have more to teach him than that coach of yours

7:20pm

How long did you train today

?

7:25pm

Clients have asked me if I’m the same Harrington as the diver.

7:31pm

Do not embarrass me.

Steve grips hard to the edge of the sink, and still can only feel the warmth of Eddie’s skin. Hear the bubble of his laughter as he dipped into that ridiculous bow and—

He turns on the sink. Splashes water on his face. Grabs his toothbrush and more than likely causes damage to his gums with the force of his brushing, anything to distract himself from what just happened. 

And just as quickly reminds himself he doesn’t need to. Doesn’t need to ignore or justifybecause it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything because Eddie, objectively, to anyone with a pulse, is attractive. He’s attractive, and Steve has eyes and a brain and so his reaction is completely normal.

So what.

It turns out the so what is the fact that it doesn’t stop happening. The so what is that Steve catches himself watching Eddie as he climbs out of the pool. Finds himself becoming distracted by Eddie’s grunts and gasps and straining noises when they train, his laugh and smile when he so obviously gets on Steve’s nerves.

And maybe Steve sets himself up for it a little more than he’d care to admit. Just to hear it. See the way his grin breaks across his face or—

He tries to rein himself in. But with Hopper’s continued insistence that they spend every waking moment together, Steve doesn’t have a single breath to get himself together. To center things. To remind himself of the reason for the distance he’d put between them, especially with his earlier reasoning of needing to pick up Eddie’s slack so quickly crumbling beneath his feet.

Because Eddie is good. Great, even, and under Hopper’s tutelage, he’s quickly becoming excellent. Steve doesn’t need to watch his dives. Doesn’t need to analyze or scrutinize the way he jumps, critique his pikes or his tucks, because without meaning to, without being able to pinpoint the moment it happens:

Steve trusts him. Finds himself knowing Eddie’s movements before they happen. Finds himself moving to match, finds Eddie moving to match Steve’s own. 

It’s easier than it ever was with Jon. It had taken them weeks, months of preparation and training and diving together, as one, before they ever reached where he and Eddie are now. Steve doesn’t need Eddie to listen to him, because he already does, in ways that matter so much more than how Steve had meant it that first day. 

They’re in synch. They move together, as two parts of the same whole, as one each and every time they jump off the board. 

Hopper’s critiques, his corrections and comments, dwindle as the day of their event draws closer, sometimes only giving them a curt nod as they climb from the pool. 

Which, in Hopper’s language, is the highest of praise. 

But the worst of it, what is most unbearable: is Eddie himself. Because the man doesn’t shut up. Not in the mornings. Not during training. Not when they’re eating and certainly not at night. Steve doesn’t understand how one person can have so much to talk about, but he does, and all of it—

All of it—

See, Steve had thought he’d know what Eddie would be like that first day. Thought, with his buzzed hair and deep set eyes and black inked tattoos, he would be like Jon. Quiet, and slow to warm up to. 

Steve could’ve handled that. Would’ve been able to put his head down and tolerate the next few days of their stoic silences if it meant he got out of it what he put in.

Gold.

But Eddie is not any of the above. 

And it’s unbearable.

And Steve is beginning to wonder how he’s ever going to live without it.

Live without Eddie’s quick smiles and easy laugh. His unyielding optimism and unrelenting enthusiasm. It’s so unlike anyone Steve has ever trained with. Not since high school, at least, to have someone that is so quick with praise. So fast to congratulate. Could smile and laugh and celebrate. 

Because that was never, and never will be, his father. Was never Jon and is certainly not Hopper,and, despite himself, Steve finds himself softening. 

He knows Eddie sees when Steve smiles at his jokes. That Eddie can hear it in his voice when he’s looking away. Can feel it in Steve’s silences when he’s trying not to laugh, and he doesn’t know what to do about it. Certainly doesn’t know how to manage this, whatever this even is, and Robin’s quick reply to his distress was an over-simplified, four word text.

Just fuck him already

Which was the least helpful advice Steve has ever received. 

How does one bridge that gap?

Sorry, I was such a fucking prick. I actually knew exactly what I was doing, but see, some people online were stressing me out and I thought this was the best course of action!

Horrible. Steve never wants to have to look at him ever again. 

Steve never wants to stop looking at him. Actually wants to do far more than just look. Wants to pull him close and shut him up properly. Wants to reduce that mouth to nothing but panting gasps that have nothing to do with ab work. Wants to feel the flex of his muscles that goes far beyond spotting him in the gym. Wants to hear him—

But that’s exactly what this scandal they’re both embroiled with needs, an affair on top of it all. Rumors that they’re sleeping together. 

True rumors that they’re sleeping together. 

His dad alone would—

It would never work. 

“Good work boys.” Hopper nods as they exit the pool, dripping and out of breath. 

Steve’s muscles ache just carrying him to his towel and he’s so hungry he’s pretty sure his skin trembles with the force of his stomach’s growl. 

He wants a hot shower and enough carbs to put him to sleep.

“Meet you tomorrow morning in the weight room.” Hopper nods again, and, with that, leaves. 

“Could lead men into battle with words like those,” Eddie grumbles, and Steve glances away with a grin he knows Eddie sees. 

“A modern King Théoden,” Eddie goes on, the both of them now heading to the locker room. 

Water is dripping down Eddie’s temples. Collecting in his eyelashes. 

“Who needs the Rohirrim speech when we have our very own Tolkien as our coach?”

Steve has no idea what he’s talking about.

And Eddie can tell. Clutches at his chest as their wet feet slap against the tiles. “Oh, Stevie,” he starts, because Stevie has somehow become exclusively what he calls him, “don’t tell me you haven’t heard King Théoden’s speech as the Riders of Rohan charge into battle!” He clears his throat, placing his hand against his bare chest, against the demon that’s tattooed there. Glistening under their harsh lighting.

“Fell deeds awake, fire and slaughter!” He begins, and Jesus Christ he must know this whole damn soliloquy because he doesn’t stop. “Spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered! A sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises!” Eddie looks to him. His pink lips quirked and his dark eyes sparkling, tinted red from the chlorine. “Ride now, ride now, ride to Gondor!” He thrusts his arm out in front of him, in front of Steve, like he’s throwing up a sword, and Steve has to bite down on his cheek. 

“Now, in the movie, they add this,” and just as Steve opens the doors to the locker room Eddie bellows,

“DEATH!”

The dozen or so other athletes stare, and Eddie is undeterred.

“DEATH!” He shouts again, as they approach their lockers, and again, one last time, as Steve unlocks his. 

“DEATH!”

“If you still have this much energy you’re not training hard enough.” Steve tries not to look at him as he says it, but Eddie’s grinning. His cheeks are dimpled and pink, like he knows Steve’s full of it. 

They dress, Steve pulling on his sweatshirt over his sopping hair and promising himself that after food, he’ll rinse the water from his skin.

“One always has energy for King Théoden,” Eddie counters, struggling to pull his sweatshirt over his own still-damp skin. 

His abs flex. Steve looks away, and checks his phone. 

He has ten missed calls. Thirty-two unread texts.

It only takes opening Robin’s linked message to know why. 

EDWARD MUNSON:  OLYMPIC MURDER SUSPECT?

Steve doesn’t read the rest. 

It doesn’t matter. 

He nearly drops his phone in his haste to lock it, to put it away, do something—

Only to look up to see Eddie already staring down at his. 

His partner doesn’t meet his gaze. Eddie stares at his lit screen, his jaw set, his hand flexing at his side and Steve, useless, says nothing to Eddie’s silence. Says nothing as he watches Eddie’s gaze scan his phone, an unnerving quiet settling between them that he hasn’t felt since that first day. 

Eddie doesn’t spout a witty comeback. Not a quick smile or a lazy shrug to what Steve knows he’s seen, and he’s only just managed to open his mouth when Eddie closes his locker without a word. 

He doesn’t make a noise as he walks away. Doesn’t stomp his feet or slam his locker or make a sound before he’s gone.

Eddie’s not at dinner. Steve waffles back and forth on plating up his usual to go for a whole five minutes before finally just doing it, loads it up with pasta and meat and veg, the box buckling at the sides as he takes it back to their apartment.

But Eddie isn’t there either. 

Steve knows it, before the door is even fully open, that his partner isn’t there. He looks anyway, and when he fully meets their empty bedroom, cold worry begins to creep up his spine. 

Steve thinks about texting him and then doesn’t. Thinks about calling and then doesn’t. 

What would he say?

His phone buzzes again, and Steve finally checks his messages.

Some are from Robin. Worried texts and one missed call that ends with call me back when you can. 

Messages from Hopper, telling them to ignore the media hubbub. That this isn’t why they’re here.

From his mom, telling him to be safe. 

From Jon, even, which Steve doesn’t open.

And the rest from his dad. 

Steve turns off his phone, and goes to find his partner. 

He goes back to the pool first. Hopes that when Eddie had left the locker room he’d maybe come back, had stayed in the water and kept on diving. 

It’s what Steve would’ve done. Stayed and practiced and not let himself think too long or too hard about anything, but Eddie isn’t there. He searches twice, anyway, looks down every board and every lane to make sure Eddie isn’t the one using it. 

He doesn’t know where to search, after that. Tries the gym. The Pilates room. Tries the mess hall and their apartment again, just in case Eddie returned. 

He hadn’t.

Steve doesn’t even know what he plans on saying. On doing once he finds him, because Eddie definitely doesn’t even want to be found. Certainly not by Steve, and yet he doesn’t stop. He walks up and down the streets of the Village in the hopes of spotting him, runs into the same prick who’d accosted Eddie that first day and somehow manages to keep his head down. To not engage with him. 

The sun begins to set, and Steve’s worry is growing a desperate edge when he spots him. 

~~~~~

He was promised the records were redacted. 

Because he was a minor. 

Because he was innocent. 

But the fact that he hadn’t done it is still something those small-town policemen have trouble wrapping their minds around, even a decade and a mountain of evidence later.

His DNA didn’t match. He had an alibi. And still Callahan thought him a killer.

Anonymous source his ass. Callahan told the press. No doubts on that. Blame Eddie, instead of their inept police work that aided in the real killer getting away. 

Anything to help them sleep better at night. 

And Eddie can’t even smoke. Had tried, valiantly, to bum some, but no one in this entire godforsaken village was a rule-breaker. 

Or at least willing to out themselves as one.

So Eddie, his skin itching, bought himself a lollipop. And then another.

It doesn’t help.

He doesn’t check his phone, and feels guilt eating at him for it. Knows that Wayne has called. Has texted. Probably used that speech to text function so his messages are borderline unintelligible, filled with concern and worry and offers of a listening ear, so Eddie takes out his phone and puts it under the bench. So he’s not tempted to check. To let his morbid curiosity get the best of him. Out of sight out of mind, and all that.

Because he already knows what the full article says. The same things that were said about him twelve years ago. Ritual sacrifice. Satanist. Devil worshiper.

Like Eddie has ever been able to stomach the sight of blood. Like he hadn’t nearly passed out in gym class sophomore year when Gareth bloodied his nose on a stray basketball. 

He should’ve stayed at the pool. Should’ve stayed in the water where he’s home and found solace in the space between the board and the water, let his brain turn off into the rhythm of it. 

But he hadn’t wanted to be around anyone. Other divers, especially. 

Steve, specifically. 

Because there’s no way he would back Eddie up, concerned as he is with the media. Concerned as he was with the Wheeler article that exposed him and Jon to the world. 

Steve would refuse to work with him, and Hopper would have no choice but to back him, and Eddie would return to the States with his tail between his legs, and whatever Eddie had convinced himself had been forged between them over the past week would be forfeit. 

Because Steve’s a bit of a prick. Cocky. Pigheaded. Vain and prideful, and Eddie—-

Eddie wants him. 

Far more than he ever thought he would. Far more than just as his diving partner. Feels himself getting all hot and bothered whenever Steve gives him a bitchy little eye roll or a snide comment they both know he doesn’t mean. Every time he scoffs or turns up his nose to hide the fact that he wants to laugh makes Eddie’s whole insides go all fluttery, like he’s just won a prize. Found the diamond in the—

He crunches down on the last bit of the sucker. Swirls the shards around in his mouth until they’re smooth and his spit is syrupy and then he swallows, their blunt edges dragging on their way down, and forces the thoughts of Steve from his mind. 

It will never happen. Not before today, and especially not now. 

Callahan made sure of that. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays out there, watching other Olympians walk past, wondering for how long he’ll be one of them. 

He’s not generally one to wallow, one to throw himself a pity party, but now, all things considered, he thinks he’s earned it. To come so far only to be cut off at the knees is something he needs to digest. To be alone with, before he can face the music. 

The sun is setting when Eddie hears him. Knows it’s Steve before he even looks up, the sound of his footsteps alone enough to signal to Eddie exactly who he is.

They know each other too damn well.

Steve doesn’t say anything, which isn’t exactly uncommon, just takes a seat next to him, even though Eddie is kinda sitting in the middle. Makes their arms and thighs touch. 

Steve seems unaffected by it. Just sits himself down and doesn’t say a word, and Eddie takes the chewed up stick out of his mouth and crams it in his pocket, because call him a murderer all you like, but he doesn’t litter. 

“What’d Coach say?”

This, apparently, wasn’t how Steve expected him to break their silence, because it’s several moments before he replies. 

“That we focus on why we’re here,” Steve says, “and let the media circus blow over.”

Now Steve’s the one who looks uncomfortable. Starts drumming his fingers on his knee, his foot bouncing, and Eddie wishes he’d just spit it out. 

“You don’t need to start pulling your punches now, you know,” he grumbles, and really wishes he had a cigarette. Just one. Coach wouldn’t even know. Just one, after nearly a decade of not. 

It wouldn’t hurt.

Steve, finally, looks at him. He’s frowning. And not the usual way he frowns at Eddie, with his nose upturned. He’s frowning at him with his brows pinched in confusion, his lips twisted to the side like he’s trying to work out what Eddie’s just told him. 

“I don’t—” Steve begins, then shakes his head, and it’s the softest Eddie’s ever heard his voice. “I’m not.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to scoff. To roll his eyes. He pushes himself away from Steve and the press of his thighs so he can look at him properly. “Don’t bullshit me, man.” His fingers twitch around nothing, even after all these years. “I’m not exactly expecting you to be my knight with this one.” Eddie looks away again, shame curdling in his chest. “You’ll find a new second-best. One that doesn’t drag your good name through the mud. Didn’t think I could do worse than your last partner, but I think old murder accusations trump drug—”

“I shouldn’t have called you that.”

Steve’s not looking at him. He’s looking down at his hands, resting in his lap.

“You’re not,” Steve swallows, his adams apple bobbing, “you’re not second best.”

It’s probably the nicest thing Steve’s ever said to him. 

He stops reaching for a cigarette that isn’t there.

Steve meets his gaze. “And you didn’t hurt anyone.” 

He sounds so sure. So positive, like there’s no other way to look at it, and Eddie feels hope for the first time since he left the locker room.

“The article said that?” Because he finds it hard to believe that article painted him in a particularly positive light, that it’s doing anything more than whipping up hysteria, thought the best he could hope for is some fact-checker coming in a few days after the fact to correct the record, far past the time the public had already convicted him.

But now Steve does roll his eyes, and Eddie feels his lips twitch at the familiarity of it. 

“I didn’t need to read any article.” Steve says, so begrudgingly Eddie’s lips twitch further, lightness beginning to creep into his chest. 

His partner crosses his arms over his chest. Looks up to the sky like he’s going to need salvation for whatever he’s about to say. “I know you better than that.”

He’s such a prick. Such a gorgeous, stubborn asshole, and Eddie never wants to let him go.

“You know me better than that?” He parrots, scooting closer, back to the middle, so their knees knock together. “You know I wouldn’t have the heart to hurt anyone?” He nudges closer, so their thighs touch again, and pokes Steve in the side, watches his lips turn into the closest thing Eddie’s ever seen of Steve’s smile.

It’s a nice smile, if small, just a quirk to his lips but his cheeks grow rosy. His eyes go bright and when he looks up at Eddie again it’s under a fanning of dark lashes, the faintest of smile lines appearing around his eyes. 

“Seeing as you didn’t hit me once over the past week and a half?” Steve nods, like that proves his point, and his small smile disappears as quickly as it came. “And I deserved far worse than a punch to the face.”

Eddie shrugs. Kicks his legs out in front of him. Throws his arms over the back of their bench like it’s all water under the bridge. 

Because it is. Because Steve’s got his back. The obstinate dick that he is. And they’re going to compete in five days. 

And they’re going to win.

“Eddie, I owe you—”

Eddie yelps, turning, startling Steve into silence as he whips up his hand, smacking it hard over Steve’s mouth.

“Please don’t apologize,” he begs, “we only just got through you pretending to hate my guts. Don’t make it awkward by whatever stilted-ass apology you were about to give me.”

Now Steve does smile. Properly. Eddie can only feel it, the stretch of his lips and the pull of his cheeks, but Steve smiles with his eyes, too. All glowy and warm, crinkled at the corners. 

Steve opens his mouth, his warm breath hot against Eddie’s palm. He says something Eddie can’t hear. His lips are wet. Brush up against Eddie’s fingers.

“What?” Eddie takes away his hand, his palm now cold despite the heat of the evening. 

“I’m that bad of an actor?”

Now Eddie can see his mouth too. How his cheeks turn pink against the sunset. The shine of his perfect teeth. 

“I think you should stick with diving, sweetheart.”

It’s always Eddie’s fat mouth that gets him in trouble. That nearly got him punched his first full day here. That will get Steve to turn away from him now because who the hell calls their partner sweetheart—

“I think that’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Steve sniffs. His eyes roll again, exasperated, his smile still all full and rosy. 

Eddie bursts out laughing. At the absurdity of it. At Steve’s self-satisfied smirk, at his pretentious little sniff and the fact that they haven’t made this awkward at all, in that this was all it took for all of today to weigh a little lighter on him. 

And then Eddie’s stomach growls. Loudly.

Steve raises one perfect eyebrow. The man must wax those too while he’s at it because really they’re impeccable—

“I have your dinner back at the apartment.”

He says it so haughtily. Like Eddie not eating dinner is the most embarrassing thing he’s done today.

Eddie might be obsessed with him.

“Yeah?” He questions, “‘cause you remembered my favorite, didn’t you?”

Steve stands, pretends to dust off the front of his tiny little shorts. Golden thighs all on display. “Can’t have you missing meals,” Steve huffs, and then crosses his arms. “So are you coming with me? Or are you going to continue your temper tantrum out here all by yourself?”

He’s such a bitch. Such a snotty brat and Eddie wants to throw him up against a wall. Wants to put him in his place. Wants to hear him whimper and beg—

Eddie stands. Crams his hands in his pockets before remembering the spit-covered stick he has in there, and immediately takes them out again. “Well now it’s not gonna be any fun, knowing you’re not even looking for me.” 

Steve turns on his heel. Begins walking away without another word.

Eddie’s insane. Has to be. Who’s attracted to people like this? 

He is. He so is, because the moment he stops staring at Steve’s legs, he’s jogging after him.

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Chapter 4

Happy birthday @hbyrde36 🎂💗

Thank you to @penny00dreadful for your beta work 🫶

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[pattypanini]

Lay All Your Love On Me Chapter 8- On the Edge

Jake Kiszka x Reader and Josh Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 8.9k

TAGLIST

AN: Hi everyone! Here is the eighth chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! This is a CRAZYYYY one. We will be compensating for everyone's therapy for this chapter and the next. Enjoy the eighth chapter, On the Edge.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT: Oral (M receiving), Sexting, Degradation, praise, SUBBBBB JAKE...., Dom reader, Cum play, Edging, Phone Sex

Vomit

Oh fuck. It felt like you couldn’t get out of your bed fast enough, you just barely got to the bathroom fast enough before releasing your regrets of last night into the toilet. Ughhh. You wipe your face with toilet paper, feeling a sudden wave of relief. Last night was something. Something you slightly forget, but also don’t. Ew. You walk over to the sink to rinse your mouth out with water and give them a quick brush before going back to bed.

When you wake up again, you roll over to your phone to check the time. 12:14pm. Not too bad for only having one class today. You saw a few messages on your phone but first a message from the GroupMe the musical uses to communicate.

9:47am Dr.Coleman: Hello everyone. Due to unforeseen events, practice will be canceled for today. Although, I can not force you to do anything I would highly recommend reading over your parts because we will be doing a full walk through sometime next week. I know it may seem early but we have to be prepared. See you All on Monday. Have a good weekend!

“Yessss.” You flop right back onto your bed and text Josh.

12:17pm y/n: I’m so happy we don’t have practice. What time did you wanna call tonight so I can make sure I’m free?

12:20pm Josh: Is 11 okay?

12:22pm y/n: Sounds good, my last class is done at 5 so I’ll get dinner with my friends and chill til then.

12:23pm Josh: I can’t wait, beautiful, I’ll be thinking about you 😘

You really liked this side of Josh, it gave you butterflies in your stomach. He was being so sweet to you, but you’d be met with completely different texts from his other half.

Holy shit. The texts that you received from Jake last night were far from being sweet and innocent.

1:37am Jake: Fuck y/n, you’re a dirty fucking slut. Grabbing yourself like that. Trying to lick yourself, I can do that for you baby. I’ll please you.

1:39am Jake: God you make me wanna touch myself. You bring out a different side of me. You take control of me, make me wanna do disgusting things. I bet you like that though.

1:40am Jake: I’m going to make good use of that pretty mouth tomorrow. You understand that? You're my dirty little secret, and I’m gonna get all the use out of you until this comes to an end. Just like these slutty pictures and videos you sent.

1:51am Jake: 1 Attachment: 1 Video 1:51am Jake: Fuck baby, you make me a mess. You see what you do to me, you make me cum so fucking hard. I wish your mouth was around my cock. That's what I think about, those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around my fat cock. Choking and gagging you, while I’m so deep down your throat.

1:52am Jake: I wish I could see your perfect tits as much as my fucking brother. It's not fair that he gets to see them just because he’s casted as your ‘love interest.’ If I knew it would be like that, I would have tried out.

He was really going through it last night, but what did he mean by ‘using that pretty mouth tomorrow?’

12:31pm y/n: Looks like you had a pretty late night, did you miss me?

12:33pm Jake: I did, but you seemed to have an eventful night too. I saw your private story. You looked drunk off your ass, how much did you drink?

12:35pm y/n: 2 shots of vodka, Long Island iced tea, Strawberry Daiquiri, Corona, maybe something else Idk. I kinda forgot honestly.

12:39pm Jake: What the fuck, how in the hell did you not get alcohol poisoning?!

12:41pm y/n: My body is immune I guess. I’m fucking feeling it this morning though, trust me. Now let me ask you a question. When you said ‘I’m going to make good use of that pretty mouth tomorrow,’ was that an in the moment thing or…

12:43pm Jake: Wouldn’t you like to know. Just keep your phone nearby today during class. See you later darling😘.

What the fuck does that mean. You decide to try your best to ignore it, getting ready for your day as usual. Even though you were doing the utmost to shake it from your brain, Jake was still lingering in the back of it.

—

You’re bored out of your mind, sitting there in your free elective, Introduction to Ethics. You completely regret taking this course, even though you heard it was an easy A. You thought about what would be happening this weekend, you were a little stressed. Hanging out with Josh and staying over at his apartment is one thing. But knowing Jake would also be there was stress inducing.

You were zoning out, only catching glimpses of the professor’s lesson. The boy next to you was very focused and interested, two things you were not. You glance over at him very unsubtly, taking a quick peek at his notes. His paper is almost completely filled up, whereas yours is still absolutely blank. His gaze catches your eye and he takes a look down at your notebook. He notices the empty page and lightly pushes his notebook over to you, allowing you to snap a quick photo.

“Thank you, I owe you one,” you send him a flirty wink.

He looks down at his paper, blush forming across his pale, freckled cheeks. “Anytime and if you need help with anything I can always be your tutor.” He pulls his notebook back and begins to scribble on it again.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smirk at him. You were in fact not going to be keeping that in mind because the class was easy as fuck. You just didn’t find the subject interesting enough for you to care. You didn't care about moral relativism or utilitarianism, you just wanted to get out of the class.

You feel a vibration from under your thigh where your phone was located. You reach under and grab it, checking the notifications.

4:17pm Jake: Where are you?

4:18pm y/n: In class

4:18pm Jake: No shit, what building are you in?

4:19pm y/n: I’m in Angell, room 2224

4:20pm Jake: Okay, I’m on my way.

Why is he coming to my class? You were beyond confused, but since you were on your phone you decided to do some mindless scrolling through instagram. A few minutes later, another text comes through.

4:28pm Jake: Come outside the classroom, bring your stuff.

4:29pm y/n: Why?

4:29pm Jake: Stop fucking questioning me and get your ass outside.

You gather your things and quietly slip out the door. Your professor sends a little wave and a smile as you walk out the door, you reciprocate the gesture.

As you step out of the classroom you look left to see no one, then right to see Jake sitting on the cushioned chairs outside the classroom. When he looks up from his phone he stands and darts to the right making his way down the hall. You follow behind not knowing where he is going.

“Jake, where are you going?” Your legs pick up the pace. “If you're gonna make me leave class, at least have a reason.”

He stops suddenly, turning towards you grabbing your wrist. “I said stop asking fucking questions or else.” He throws your wrist back down and restarts his mission.

“Or what, Jake? You can’t do anything out here.” You boldly snap back at him.

“You're right, I can’t.” He grabs your wrist once more and drags you quickly to a specific classroom. When he pulls you inside you can barely see a thing. There are no windows, just a cement room, with a single skylight lighting the middle of the tiny classroom. You hear the sound of the door locking as he stands in front of it.

“Get on your knees.” You hesitate, everything happening so fast. “I said get on your fucking knees y/n, or are you deaf?” His aggressiveness takes you back a bit. You shrug your backpack off, then slowly make your way onto your knees.

“I’m gonna say it once, what you did last night was slutty. Teasing me with that fucking video knowing I couldn’t do anything about it other than touch myself. So you're gonna pay me back and use your mouth the way it should be used, sucking my cock. Not trying to suck your own tits, got it?”

“Oh! So, that’s what this is?” You push him back against the door, slowly begin to unbuckle his pants. “Poor Jakey just needs his cock sucked? You’re just so desperate for a blowjob that you use my video from last night as an excuse to get one. You know I could have been sucking some other guys dick last night.” You pull his boxers down releasing his cock, slapping against his stomach. “Does that make you mad, knowing my lips could have been wrapped around some other guy's cock, not having to keep it a secret.” You press light kisses onto his throbbing tip. “So fucking horny for me baby, so I will suck you off, but tell me why you actually want me here.”

He looks down to you, completely in awe. “I needed you baby. That video you sent me last night was so fucking hot. I just need you to suck my cock, please, I’m begging.”

You teasingly lick a stripe up the underside of his dick, not making any moves to go further.

“You're gonna have to beg a lot more Jakey, you think you’re in charge here but you’re not, and I’ll tease you as long as I want until I think you’ve earned it.” Placing a few more kisses down his cock.

“Please baby, I’m so fucking desperate for you. I cum just thinking about you at night, thats how fucking bad I need this. All I’ve ever wanted was your lips wrapped around my cock. I hear people talk about it and it makes me want it even more. Making the excuse is all I could think of to get you to suck me off because I didn’t wanna beg, but I will. Please y/n, I’m so fucking horny for you I need this.” He looks down to you with begging eyes.

“Such a good boy, Jakey.” You say as you once again take his cock into your hand. You hear him whimper slightly under his breath. “Does someone like being called that? You put up this dominant front, but you're just a little bitch who wants to be told what to do. Isn’t that right?’

Another whimper escapes his lips, solidifying the fact that yes he did enjoy being called ‘a good boy’.

“Tell me what you think about baby, tell me all the things you think about alone when you're jerking off. If you stop, I'm gonna leave you to finish it yourself.” You fire at him, you feel your own wetness beginning to pool in your panties.

Jake’s POV

Fuck. You almost came just from that alone. This is everything you’ve ever wanted. Since freshman year, you had it bad for her. Hearing what she did to all those other guys made your blood boil. But now it's your turn. You were her bitch and you couldn’t give one shit.

“Please y/n I’m so desperate I’ll tell you anything.” You can’t help but be a submissive mess for her, she just has such a fucking hold on you.

“So tell me Jakey, how long have you been thinking about me when you touch yourself, and what you think about.” She takes your cock all the way into her mouth, pulling it back out, sending your head against the door. “Oh and Jake…” You look down on her. “No cumming til I say so, got it?”

“Fuck- anything for you, darling, anything,” You whine out as she bobs her head up and down, slowly, on your throbbing cock.

She looks up to you with her big doe eyes, waiting for you to start talking.

“Oh fuck, um, the first time I saw you, you were all- all I could think about.” You struggle to get any of your sentences out, as she resumes her painfully slow bobbing on your dick.

“I would look at your insta all the time. I would think about what it would be like to get with you. I would purposefully go to the dining hall when I knew you’d be there, oh fuck, just to get a good look at you.” Your breathing picked up as soon as y/n started humming around your cock, inducing an unholy moan to release from your throat. “Once it started getting around to the school that you were just sleeping around I was pissed, not at you, but at the guys you got with. I wanted- fuck- I wanted nothing more than to be one of those guys.” She picks up the pace on your cock, making you close to losing it. “And since I couldn’t be one of those guys, I thought about what it would be like.”

You shut your mouth, trying your very best to stop your moans from slipping past your lips. You’re silent for a few minutes as she continues to work on your cock, but after noticing the silence she pulls away.

“Are you scared someones gonna hear baby, isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted to let everyone know that I sucked your thick cock. That’s all you’ve ever wanted, so enjoy it baby. Savor it. Or else you're not cumming, at least not from me, you can do it yourself. Slut.” She was spurring you on, bringing you even closer to orgasm.

You watch her intently as your hands travel to the shoulders of her shirt, balling them up in the palms of your hands. She slows down and pulls her mouth off slowly, leaving a string of saliva hanging from her lips connecting her to your dick. “You want this off Jakey?” She says grabbing at her shirt. You nod frantically, your eyes fully concentrated on her. “All you have to do is ask, tell me what you want.”

“Please y/n take off your shirt, let me see your perfect tits.” She smiles back up to you. Her hands grab at the hem of her shirt, swiftly pulling it over her head, leaving her in nothing but a little baby blue mesh bra. It wasn’t covering much, because you could fully see her nipples through it. “Please baby, can I take it off. I wanna see everything. Wanna see your pretty tits” She nods, your hand trailing behind her back, clipping it off her and letting it fall to the ground.

“Such a slutty man, I like that.” She brings her hand near her mouth before spitting into it, and pumping your cock. “Now tell me what you think about Jake, you know… when you're jerking yourself off to me like a fucking whore.” She’s gonna be the death of you.

“I think about a moment just like this, you sucking my cock. Most of the times I finish in your mouth and you swallow it, but other times I- fuck- I cum on your tits.”

She smiles up at you with a malicious look on her face. “I like that idea, wanna make that happen right now.”

“Ughhh fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum.” Your hand goes to her head, pushing her mouth back down around your cock. “Please let me cum baby I’m so close.” Her head bobs up faster and faster.

She pulls back for a moment and continues jerking you off. “Cum for me Jakey, show me how much of a good boy you are. Come on, cum all over my tits Jake, fulfill that fantasy, you dirty little slut.” With a few more pumps you're on the edge and can’t take it any longer. You release all over her tits along with screaming her name.

“Fuck y/n… Holy shit baby. You’re fucking perfect.” You say as you’re panting for air.

She looks up to you while her fingers go to her tits, gathering as much cum as she can get before sucking it off her fingers, continuing her deep eye contact.

“You’re a fucking maniac. You make me wanna tell everyone about you, I want you so bad.” She begins to stand up wrapping her bra back on her.

“You wish, Jakey.” She grabs her shirt pulling it back over her head. “Hopefully that’ll hold you over, and give you something new to think about. See you soon.” She sends a wink your way as she grabs her bag and makes her way back out the door she just came from.

Wait- what the fuck just happened?

-

y/n’s POV

As you make the grueling walk back to your dorm you take a moment to reflect on your actions of today. If someone had told you a month ago that you’d just finished sucking off Jake Kiszka in an empty classroom, you’d never believe them. Especially a begging submissive one, but I guess that’s just the effect you have on people.

As you open the door you’re met by Charlotte sitting on the couch staring at you like a parent waiting for their child to come home from a late party. She sat there with her arms crossed as if she was sitting there for a while just waiting for you to walk in. She glares at you as you drop your backpack off at the door.

“Where were you?” She questions beginning to cross her legs.

“In class?” You give her a weird look. Why is she interrogating you?

“Wellllll, you are late getting home. You usually get back around 5:15ish, it's 5:47, why so late.”

“Why are you acting like the police? It just took me longer to get back today, that's all.” You begin to walk back to your room, but Charlotte follows quickly behind you.

“Well that’s what I’d normally expect, but Sierra told me you left class early today, and she wondered if you went home because you were sick. So I just wanna know where you were.” She raises an eyebrow at you.

Shit.

“Well, I wasn’t feeling good so I went to the bathroom, I threw up a little.” You’re quick to defend yourself, hoping she won’t see through your lies.

“Makes sense. I know you like giving head, but I didn’t think that meant you’d start throwing up cum, you know since it’s dried up around your mouth.” You quickly look in the mirror. There it was a little patch of dried cum right in the corner of your mouth, definitely not one of your best moments.

“And not to play investigator but I went onto snap maps and saw that Josh was on the other side of campus, so who were you with y/n? Oh wait, I actually know because I saw you and another familiar bitmoji in a random classroom. So how long have you been fucking Jake Kiszka?” Charlotte shot you a knowing look, as you sigh in defeat.

“Ugh fine. We fucked ONCE, okay? Just one time. It was nothing serious.” You shrug it off as if it was nothing. Charlotte’s eyes widen, and you feel a pang of guilt sharpen in your chest. “Plus it’s not like Josh and I were a thing. That was all after he stormed off about being friendzoned.”

“Oh my fucking God. Does Josh know?” She questions you, you could tell she felt a little hurt that you’d kept such a thing from her. You usually tell each other everything.

“Umm, not really. So, you CAN NOT tell him, understand?” You were practically begging her, you couldn’t risk Josh finding out.

“You know I can’t lie.” She says with her puppy dog eyes.

You sigh, “I know Char but you need to not say anything. Okay? Don’t be around him, avoid him.”

“Okay I’ll try, so you guys just fucked in that classroom?”

Now realizing there is more to the story and you have exposed yourself you decide to come clean.

“Well not technically…”

“But you said you only did it once… OMG. y/n. It has happened more than once. When?”

I’m going to hell.

“Umm, the night I went to apologize to Josh.” You avert your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact. You were embarrassed and ashamed.

“HOLY SHIT y/n.”

“I know, I know it sounds bad, but when I went over he wasn’t there. But Jake was, and he comforted me. And then he fucked me, like it was crazy.” You put your forehead in the palm of your hands,realizing everything you just said. “OMG Char! Wait, never mind its TMI.”

“NOPE share you shouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t want me to know the details.” She smirks at you with her pink lips.

“I don’t know how else to say this then just say it so, he made me squirt.”

“OMG OMG WHAT. This is actually crazy y/n. You should be telling everyone this.”

“No that's the thing, this whole thing is a secret. You weren’t supposed to know. While Josh and I aren’t dating it would kill him to know I fucked his brother, you can not tell anyone. None of my friends, none of yours, don’t even think about it okay? After this conversation it never gets brought up ever again.” You stick your pinky out to her, waiting for her to reciprocate the action.

She can tell this is stressing you, so without a fight she sticks out, sealing the pinky promise. “Just one more question and then I’ll never mention it again. I promise, pinky promise.”

You roll your eyes, “What Char.”

“What did you actually do in that classroom today, then?” She was on the edge of her seat.

“I sucked him off, it was crazy Char. You're not gonna believe this when I tell you. But he was begging, and whimpering, it was insane. He was so submissive. I never pictured him to act that way”

Her jaw opens, not being able to hide her reaction. “And I found out that he 's liked me since freshman year and that he jerks off thinking about me. He spilled so much about what he was thinking about, it was foul.”

Her mouth turns into a huge open mouth smile. “OMG, Jake Kiszka being a sub is not what I had on my spring semester bingo card. Did he call you mommy?”

“OMG nooooo. N-no, he didn't.” You were a little flustered after picturing him saying it in your mind.

“Would you let him?”

“Um, I-I don't know. Need any more details about my sex life?” You joke to her.

“I just wish my life was this interesting, I’m living vicariously through my sweet y/n.” She smirks at you and playfully shoves your shoulder. You roll your eyes at her, a chuckle passing through your lips.

“I’m just saying I haven't gotten any action in a while. Whenever you and Jake are done just pass him over my way.” Charlotte winks at you and turns to exit your room. You sigh and collapse onto your bed.

Why did things have to be so complicated? Why did you have to have feelings for the Kiszka twins? You were so confused, and quite frankly didn’t know where to go from here.

You loved the thrill you got when you were with Jake, the unpredictability and excitement was all consuming in his presence. Whereas with Josh he was so sweet and a charmer, for sure. The Sun and the Moon. The light and the dark. And with each day passing by, you didn’t know if you were more eager for the light to slowly creep in or the darkness to encompass you.

The evening was boring up until dinner. You laid in bed, did some homework and watched a few episodes of Victorious with Char out in the living room. While in the middle of an episode you and Charlotte get a text from your groupchat.

7:18pm Ari: Wanna walk the track after dinner, have a little yap sesh?

Char looks to you for an answer, not wanting to make the decision herself. You nod and reply back.

7:18pm y/n: Yes def.

You make your way back to your room and grab a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. You slipped on your Hokas and pulled your hair into a slick back ponytail. It had been a while since you ran and were looking forward to it. The musical has taken up most of your time so having time for your physical health would be nice.

Making your way to dinner, you and Char meet up with Ari and Mae, spending your time like you always do, ranting about your day and anything else on your mind. But the track was for gossip. What is said on the track stays on the track.

You take the first 30 minutes to run, pacing yourself and taking your breaks as needed. It had been a while so you were a little rough around the edges. After the first thirty you catch up to the group and join in on the convo.

“He’s actually so attractive though, like in a dilf-y way.” Char says.

“How old is he Char?” Ari asks, not knowing if she really wanted to know the answer.

“I don’t know, maybe like 50 something. He’s beekeeping age. OMG he actually keeps bees, that's so funny.” Char says giggling and twirling her hair around her finger.

“Char, have you ever heard of the term bimbo?” Mae asks sweetly.

“Um I don’t think so, what does it mean?” Char innocently questions.

“Doesn’t matter, just know you are one in the best way possible. You’re just so cute.” Mae replies.

Char smiles and keeps on walking with pep in her step. She's adorable.

“So y/n, are you gonna see Josh soon?”

“I am actually. I’m going to be calling him tonight to work on some musical stuff and tomorrow he’s taking me out somewhere.” You state.

“So a date? I thought you guys were just friends.” Char probes. You’re hoping and praying she does not bring up the things that went down between you and his twin.

“We are just friends.” You say sternly. “I’m sure it’ll be something casual, but I’m also hoping it’s somewhere nice. You know they have money to spend.”

“Maybe you’ll stay the night at his place. You’ll be able to see Josh and Jake.” She sends you a devious wink.

Are you serious Char? You shoot her a glare, telling her to knock it off. She catches your drift.

“But I’m sure you don’t wanna see Jake, I would want to though.” Char says with a smirk.

“Well you can have him Char. Maybe I’ll ask if he is looking for a cute ginger girl.” You joke around with her.

Deep down, you wanted Jake all to yourself and you couldn’t help but think he'd want the same. You know how bad he wants you, and knowing that makes you want him more. But there’s Josh. You couldn’t ruin your friendship with him, or did you want something more than just that too? It was all very confusing. But you knew at some point a decision would have to be made, but now was not the time for that.

“Omg I would be perfect for that position.” She says all giddy. Everyone rolls her eyes and laughs about her comments, she truly is a bimbo.

After walking for an hour, Mae somehow convinces everyone to hit legs. You didn’t mind though, you liked the way it made your body feel. How strong you felt after. At around 10:05 you all begin to make your way back to your dorms, saying goodnight to Ari and Mae for the night.

When you're turning the corner to go past the dining hall you run into some familiar faces, the Kiszkas. Along with them their third brother and dad. Your eyes shoot open and smile at them. You and Char slow up to say hi to everyone.

“Hi Josh.” You smile at him and then turn to Mr.Kiszka. “Hi Mr. Kiszka, I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” You reach your hand out to shake his. He grips your hand in his, giving it a firm shake.

“I know exactly who you are, y/n, I noticed you during last year's play. You did very well with your role, a very underrated character.” You thank him for noticing your talent. “My son has told me a lot about you.”

Oh shit. “Um, which son?” You giggle jokingly, but you're not joking at all. You look at Josh who is giving you a strange look, while Jake has a proud look across his face.

“Well Josh, unless you also know my son Jake.” He grabs Jake by the shoulder and shakes him a little, teasingly.

“I know Jake through Josh, never really got to know him though.” You look at Jake, who is shaking his head with a giant smirk plastered on his beautiful face. You turn your attention to the youngest of brothers, who was sporting a t-shirt and short shorts. He has gorgeous long hair that framed his face perfectly, it made you jealous. “I don’t think I’ve ever met you though?”

The youngest brother reaches out his hand for a shake. “My name is Sam, I might be coming here next year.” He smiles holding your hand a little longer than the average handshake, and with a little too much eye contact. You smile at him not wanting to be rude.

“That’s awesome, are you guys all taking a look around campus now?”

“No, no.” Mr. Kiszka butts in. “He has been here enough times to know the layout, we just came to visit these two, and go out for a quick dinner and go to see an old buddy who was in a band when I went here. I don’t know if you have plans, would you like to join us?”

You look at Charlotte who has a grin on her face. “No thank you sir, I hope you all have a great time tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow Josh. Goodbye Mr. Kiszka, it was nice to meet you.” You grin at him “It was also nice to meet you Sam, hopefully I’ll see you around next semester.” You say innocently, knowing that his intentions were to not come at all to college. Do you say bye to him? If you don’t it's even weirder.

“Nice to see you Jake. I hope you all have a good night.” You give a final wave before heading back to the dorm.

“That was awkward.”

“Oh shush it Char.”

As soon as you make your way into the dorm and the door clicks shut, you turn to Char.

“Char, did the convo we had earlier mean nothing, I said that information about Jake can not get out.” You widen your eyes at her, and you can tell she feels bad about it.

“I know I’m sorry. I wasn't even trying to bring it up, it just happened. I promise I won’t bring it up again.” She says with her big green eyes staring at you. You can’t stay mad at her. She has such a forgivable face. Which is probably why she’s able to get out of a lot of trouble when she is caught doing something she's not supposed to.

Like how Freshman year she was able to convince the police officer to not breathalyze her because she had asthma and didn’t want to start having a coughing fit. Somehow he believed her. Which you still don’t see how because she was absolutely obliterated and looked a complete mess.

“I’m gonna head out for a bit, Jonathan asked me if I wanted to stay the night at his place. So if you wanna have Josh over…”

“He will not be over, have a good night. Be safe.” You smile at her as she heads right back out the door.

After Char leaves, you shower and relax for a while until you receive a text from Josh.

12:23pm Josh: Hey I know it’s a little later now, if you don’t want to call I understand.

12:24pm y/n: I’d love to still call you Josh. Do you wanna facetime or call?

12:26pm Josh: Facetime, I miss your pretty face.

Oh jeez.

As your phone begins to dial, you do a quick check to see if you look okay. Your hair was beginning to dry and slight curls were beginning to form. You click the green button at the top of the screen and are met with a white ceiling.

“Josh?”

“Hey, sorry I was just getting in some pants, not that me being pantless would bother you.” He says as he drags a towel over his wet hair.

You roll your eyes, “Yeah Josh I definitely wanna be staring at your dick all night, sounds like a blast.” You say dryly, but knew that it wouldn’t be an awful way to spend the night. “So how was your evening with your family?”

“It was alright. My dad’s friend isn’t as good as he said he was, but what else is new. My dad seemed to really like you though, and my horny brother.”

You laugh at his statement. “What is that supposed to mean Josh.”

“Well as soon as we left and my dad was out of earshot he was saying some… things about you. So if he adds you on anything, don't add him back.” You check your insta and long and behold you had a new follower, @samfkiszka.

“Don’t worry I won’t, I don’t go for polite men anyways, that's why I got with you.” You say in a snarky tone.

“I was very kind to you.” A moment of silence. “Okay I wasn’t in the beginning but I am now, plus what he was saying when you were not there was far from polite.”

“Like what Josh, It can’t be any worse than what a normal highschool senior says.”

“Well if I remember correctly, and I have a fantastic memory, it was along the lines of, ‘well I normally wouldn’t go after older women but I wouldn’t mind a little cougar action. I mean her ass was pouring out of those tight, little shorts. I wouldn’t mind hitting it from the back, you wouldn’t know of any tattoos she would have on her back would you Josh?’”

Your jaw drops, “Um, well that wasn’t what I was expecting. I’ll make sure to steer clear from him.”

“Yeah he also said ‘that's another perk of coming to Michigan, the hot chicks, like Miss. y/n over there.’ It made me jealous.”

Jealous. Hmmmm.

“Really, Josh Kiszka is getting jealous, I would have never thought you’d admit it.” You say cocking your head to the side.

“Well, I don’t think anyone would be fond of hearing their younger sibling say that type of shit. Jake is different because we're like the same person. But my younger brother, um no.” He giggles.

Him and Jake were very much, not the same person. In more aspects than one. “So why didn’t your mom come up?”

“She was busy with my sister tonight. I don’t know if I ever mentioned her. She’s the middle child of all of us. But she doesn’t go here, she goes to a smaller college up north.” ‘

“Makes sense. Maybe I’ll meet her at some point. “ You hint to him. He smiles, but then goes quiet.

“I don’t know if this is too forward, and you don’t have to answer. We have been getting closer as friends and I just wanna know you and everything but dont feel the need…”

“Josh, please just spit it out. I promise I won’t get offended. You called me a slut like every single day so it probably won’t be that bad.”

“Yeah sorry about that. I just wanted to know about your mom. Like I know your parents are divorced but like do you still see her? I couldn’t imagine not seeing my mom.”

You sit there pondering on how to respond. You don't want him to feel sorry for you like how everyone else does, but you wanted to be honest with him.

“No, we don’t talk. We haven’t talked since I was maybe… what, like 10 years old? I have kinda lost track over the years.” You prepare yourself for the pity and sappy sympathy.

“Man, that must suck. And if you don’t mind me asking, why did they divorce?” You’re taken back by his bluntness, but it's also a little refreshing.

“I mean, yeah, at first it did suck but I’m used to it now. My mom was an addict. My dad tried to get her help, but she just refused. She stopped taking care of herself, then me. It wasn’t good. My dad had to divorce her and then he took her to a facility. She was there for a while and then I heard from family that she was out but relapsed right away. So I don’t know the current situation.” It was silent for a little, which is the normal reaction to everything. “Sorry if you didn’t want to know all of that, I just felt comfortable telling you. I haven't really told anyone else other than my close friends, but telling you felt right. I'm sorry.”

“y/n stop, you should not be sorry. I’m glad you opened up to me, I feel closer to you, in a different way than I ever have.” It was cute watching him get like this. He was very empathetic, in the best way he could. You could tell that he was not the type of person to be open with his feelings, or discuss others. You see him open his mouth to say something else but decide not to.

“I don’t expect you to make a whole speech about how it was wrong and that you feel bad. I’ve heard it all my life from whoever found out, well about the divorce part, not the drug part. That's a whole different thing. But just don’t see me differently. I just wanted to share because you asked and I felt comfortable telling you.”

He nods to you, still with a concerned look on his face. “Thank you for sharing, I promise I will never tell anyone. It sounds like a lot, but you turned out to be a really good person. Your dad must have done a good job raising you.” You smile thinking about your dad.

He was a tall skinny guy, similar to the statue of Coraline's dad. He wore his rectangle framed glasses and had a really good personality despite working in the office everyday. He always told you that you are his whole world, and that no matter what happened in his life, it would always get better when he remembered you and how proud he is of his daughter. He is dating Celia, his girlfriend, who you grew fond of over the years. She acted as the mom you never had growing up later in life. When your dad found out that you were going to Michigan he was upset that he wouldn’t be able to see his ‘little girl’ everyday, but he was so proud of you for getting into an amazing school. He is your biggest supporter, and you truly wouldn’t be who you are today without him.

“He did an amazing job raising me. I miss him so much.” The conversation made you realize you haven’t called your dad in a week or two, you were definitely going to have to call him soon.

“I know I always made fun of you for your, um, sexual history and other things, but I truly always saw you as perfect. With singing, acting, your personality, everything. I’ve never met a person who was as perfect as you in any aspect.”

“Josh, that was really kind of you. Like seriously it’s nice being told I’m more than just a slut for once. Like I’m aware I’m not the most prude person, but I don’t really care that I sleep around either. Being called a slut is whatever from random people but it hurts when you would do it. Especially because I wanted you to like me.” You shyly look at your comforter and play with the fabric.

“Well knowing that now I won’t call you that anymore. I promise, other than if the moment calls for it.” You scrunch your eyebrows.

“What type of moment?”

“You knowing when we are fucking and your doing something whoreish. But I don’t actually mean that you're a slut, just an in the moment type thing.”

“I get it. It’s bold of you to say that we’ll be fucking in the future.” You give him a smirk

He tilts his head to the side, giving you a ‘are you serious’ type look.

“What?” You question louder to him.

“We’ve been horned up for each other the past couple weeks and we're finally hanging out tomorrow night. I mean I don’t wanna predict anything but…”

“Well personally I was just thinking about the amazing night we had planned. I never even considered it.” Giving him a sarcastic look and a grin looking at his perfect face. “Your eyes look really pretty right now Josh.”

His cheeks begin to turn pink. “Are you trying to butter me up or something?”

“No. What, I can't just compliment you?”

“No you can. I love when you compliment me mama, it makes me feel good.” He smiles at you. “And when you give me other types of compliments, well those make me feel really good.”

“Like what Josh?” You giggle at him, prodding for more information.

“I really love when you call me names, and talk me through everything. Just thinking about it makes me horny. I wish you were here right now. I’d make you feel so good.”

“You can make me feel good tomorrow.” You say what you were both thinking about, knowing it was inevitable for it to happen.

“Or we help each other out right now?” He says with a devious grin on his face.

“I can’t really suck you off through the phone Josh.”

“Just talk to me mama, tell me all the things you would do to me if I was there.” You watch as his grin widens, his sparkling straight teeth shining through his pouty lips.

“What are you gonna do Joshy?”

“Well I’m gonna jerk myself off, and you can touch yourself, if you want. I wanna hear your pretty moans, don’t hold back for me, yeah? I want you to talk me through it, can you do that for me mama?”

You were taken aback. You never really did this with anyone, but you were an adventurous person and would try everything at least once.

“I can do that for you Joshy. I wanna see your body though. Can you tilt it down so I can see that perfect body of yours.”

He smirks at the camera before tilting the camera down, showing his bare abs and pants.

“I know you like my body mama. I love the way you feel me up and down during practice. Gets me going so much. Wanna take you right there on stage, so everyone can see.” Josh says as he begins to palm himself through his pajama pants. “Are you home alone?”

“I am, so I can be as loud as I want. Am I gonna be able to hear you Joshy?”

“Not as much as you. Jake is home in the living room.” Throwing his head back, moaning from the friction.

“Are you gonna be quiet for me, be a good boy and moan so just I can hear you.” You say in a low tone.

“I’ll be quiet for you mama. Just loud enough for your ears to hear, they're only meant for you.”

“Pull your pants down Josh. I wanna see that beautiful cock of yours, I know it's already hard as a rock and I haven’t even said much of anything yet.” You say licking your lips slightly.

“Just because we haven’t done anything doesn’t mean I wasn't thinking about it. Although I didn’t like Sam saying it, I couldn’t help but keep myself distracted during that show.” He pulls his pants down, releasing his cock. “I wanna fuck you so hard from the back, right in front of the mirror in my room. So I can see how good you look taking my cock.”

“Fuck, Josh. C-can I touch myself? You’re in charge, baby. What do you want me to do, daddy?” You grab your tit through your shirt, supplying yourself with the smallest amount of pleasure to at least get some relief.

“Well I didn’t tell you to start grabbing your tits, are you gonna listen to me or do your own fucking thing you brat.” He says sternly, obviously taking the more dominant role and you were thoroughly enjoying it.

“I’m sorry baby, what do you want me to do, I’m your puppet.” You let go of your tit, and give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Well first I want your phone propped up so I can see your whole body, then I want you stripped on the bed, nothing on. Once you're done, lean yourself against your headboard and spread your legs.”

You follow his directions, putting your phone against the blankets at the end of your bed and spreading your legs, being completely vulnerable to him.

He bites his tongue, smiling. “What a pretty pussy. Such a shame I’m going to destroy it tomorrow.”

Your mouth opens and eyebrows raise in shock.

“Better keep that mouth shut y/n, or else I’m gonna have to come over and skull fuck you.”

Your lips slowly morph into a smile, as your hand begins to slowly start sliding down your stomach.

“Did I tell you you could touch yourself yet?” You shake your head ‘no’ at him. “That’s what I fucking thought.” You remove your hand from your stomach, and give him a little pout. “Such a sad little baby, can’t even keep her pretty little hands off her wet cunt.”

He loves the power he has over you, polar opposite of the demeanor his brother had earlier today.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and listen, because if you keep doing your own thing I’ll just jerk myself off, looking at that perfect body of yours.” He begins to work on himself after spitting in his hand.

“Can I touch myself now, I promise I’ll listen to you.” You sit there leaning against the headboard. Arms by your side.

“I want you to play with your tits first, spit on your hand and massage them, and pinch your nipples nice and hard. I’ll tell you when I’ve seen enough.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth, spitting into it. You stare at Josh, fondling them softly. “I wish these were your hands Josh. Yours are so big, and soft, god I wish they were in me.” You whimper letting your head push against the headboard exposing your neck.

“Oh I’ve missed that beautiful neck of yours, it's so perfect. Such a shame it’s going to be all bruised after tomorrow.”

Your open mouth turned into a smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, I’ll never say no. Oh god Josh can I please touch my pussy, it’s aching for touch.”

He smirks before giving you an answer. “One finger, that's it. Your gonna finger fuck yourself until I say you can do anything else.”

You begin to slide your hand down your stomach again, leading all the way down to your slick entrance. As you slip your middle finger in you moan, probably a little more than you had to, but you wanted to play it up for Josh. Give him something to remember.

“You’re so fucking sexy, I love hearing your little noises. Let them all out for me mama, don’t hold back.” You watch as he begins stroking himself faster and harder. The slapping noises drifting through the screen.

“Let me see that throbbing tip Joshy, rub it for me.” You curl your finger up trying to hit your sensitive spot, letting out a very real moan.

“You’re such a dirty girl baby. You should just come over and suck my cock. I don’t care that Jake is here, he can be jealous knowing he’ll never get that from you.”

That's awkward.

“I wish I could come over too, maybe you should come here.” You wink. He stops for a moment.

“Really? Because I will, don’t test me.”

“I’m just joking, I wanna do this with you. Try something new.” You pump your fingers into yourself even quicker, trying to get yourself there.

“You’re a fucking tease, you bitch. I can’t wait to have you all to myself tomorrow. You won’t be able to tease me, unless you wanna get punished. You don’t want that to happen do you.” He says in a sultry tone.

“Like I said I’ll never say no, you can punish me if you want, I’ll enjoy it.” Continuing to finger yourself, but needed more friction.

You let the palm of your hand grind against your clit, not worrying about your finger inside of you.

“You won't be enjoying it when I do it sweetheart. You’ll be moaning in pain, I won't hold back. Who knew Miss y/n liked a little pain with her pleasure?” He says with heavy breathing. He looks at you and his demeanor changes. “Hey, did I say you can rub your clit yet. I can see you grinding against it. Do you think I’m a dumbass?”

“Yeah.” You say under your breath hoping he wouldn’t hear.

“That’s one for tomorrow, keep it up and you’ll get more strikes added.”

“Added to what.” You ask, your heart thumping with anticipation.

“You’ll see, keep questioning and it’ll be two. Now be a good girl and lick yourself off your finger, then you can start rubbing your clit.”

You pull your finger up to your mouth making sure he sees you suck hard on it.

“So she can listen to directions, that's my good girl. Now go ahead and rub that throbbing clit for me baby. I know you want it so badly.” He smirks, picking up the pace on his cock again, moaning very quietly to not disturb Jake.

It didn’t take long to feel close to your climax after all that dirty talk and fingering. You began to moan louder letting him know you were close.

“Don’t you dare cum y/n. I told you I would tell you when to cum, if you want to you have to beg baby.” His voice was shaky, you knew he wasn’t too far behind you.

“Please Joshy, I need this, I wanna cum to you. I wanna see your perfect face while I finish. And I wanna see you cum all over yourself like a little slut. Please Ja-osh just let me.” You almost slipped, but you knew he didn’t catch it. He was too busy jerking off to everything you just said.

“God you make me go crazy, cum with me baby I’m so close. Oh fuck..mmm.” With that Josh came all over his perfectly sculpted abs, making your stomach flip. With a few more circles you were done. The wave of pleasure washed over your body.

“Oh fuck Josh. God, I feel so fucking good.” You say catching your breath. You grab your phone from the end of the bed. Throwing your blanket over your body. “Are you gonna make me feel like that tomorrow?”

“Way better than that baby I promise.” He says while he gets up to clean himself off.

“Okay well I’ll see you tomorrow then, just let me know when you're gonna come get me.”

“Wait.. I was actually thinking. Could you just stay on call tonight? I haven’t been sleeping the best and ever since that night at my house I’ve been thinking about how easy it was to fall asleep. If you don’t want to I get it but…”

“Of course Josh, anything for you.” You turn off your light and crawl into bed, seeing him mimic your moves.

“Goodnight mama.”

“Goodnight Joshy.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@demonrat444 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jordie-gvf @jazzyfigz @slut4lando @gvfmarge @peaceloveunitygvf @jjwasneverhere @areuirish @mar-rein12 @woyayaofdreams @freyjalw @musicspeaks @jennabobenasblog @do-it-jakey-baby @dannys-dream

[emberenchanted]

For Keeps (3/3)

Pairing: Dark!Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Summary: Carol sees you. Carol wants you. Carol gets what she wants. 

Series Warnings: extremely dubious consent, strap ons (r receiving), sex (oral, vaginal), anal fingering, Dom!Carol, orgasm denial, spanking, violence (not really towards reader), manipulation, forced relationship, rough sex

18+ ONLY

Link to Chapter 1

Link to Chapter 2

A/N: Ok party people, we've reached the end of this short tale. There really isn't much plot here, it's mostly smut 😅. This fic is my first time writing smut so hope it isn't terrible. Thanks to everyone who read, liked, commented, and reblogged! Let me know what you think about this chapter. I really appreciate the support and motivation.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Chapter 3

When you wake up the next morning, it is to serious regret and a text from Carol telling you that she’d pick you up at 6:30pm that night. You make one last effort to get out of the date and text back that you aren’t feeling well. Carol responds and says that if you aren’t feeling well, she’ll just come over and take care of you until you’re better. 

The response makes your stomach drop. You shudder to imagine how domineering Carol would be alone, in a private space that has a lock. She already forces every interaction into the outcome she desires in public. If she managed to get into your studio, you would be at her mercy, and after the way she’d finger fucked you against the alley wall before you could get a word in, you were sure you wouldn’t get her out of your apartment before she got what she wanted, which was most likely you in bed with her. You definitely weren’t ready for that yet, if you’d ever be. No, much better to go out. 

Hours later, after considering the contents of your closet, you settle on a black knee length bodycon dress with long sleeves and chunky black boots. You style your hair into an updo, and add chunky gold hoop earrings; a bit of concealer (to cover the marks Carol had left on your neck the night before), and a swipe of lip gloss complete your look. You don’t want Carol to see where you live so you decide that you’ll head down to the bar around 6:25pm and meet her there. You’re already nervous, so when you’re ready by 6pm you decide to indulge in one glass of wine to settle your nerves. It definitely can’t hurt, right?

At 6:20pm, Carol walks up the steps to your apartment, which is right over the bar. If she’d known last night that her baby lived just upstairs, she could have dragged you there during her break and made your first time riding her fingers much more comfortable. Though to be fair, if she had known, you might not have made it back for the rest of your shift. Oh, well. That’s what she gets for not having complete information. She won’t let that happen again. Carol intends to find out all the important bits about her baby’s life tonight, so simple slip ups like that don’t happen anymore.  

After spending her morning “talking” to some of the other business owners who have recently missed their monthly payments, Carol is feeling relaxed and eager. Situations where she got to flex her physical...skills always got her blood up, and she was ready to show her baby a great time. The concerning information Carol’d received from three of the people she visited could be handled tomorrow. Apparently, all of them had also been told there’d be a change in payment method and none of the dumb fucks had double checked before paying in cash at that bench. She needed to talk to Steve about how to move forward and he wasn’t an early riser. If things went according to plan, she wouldn’t make it back to the Avengers’ headquarters from her date until mid-morning tomorrow. 

She bounds up the last two steps before quickly walking to your door. Carol knocks two times before taking a step back. When you open the door, Carol is absolutely thrilled. You look fucking delicious and Carol can’t wait to eat her little baby alive. Your soft breasts are perched high in a tight black v-neck dress, and the smooth expanse of skin from your neck to dressline is flawless. Whatever you'd applied made your skin gleam and shimmer in the light. It's all Carol can do to not hook her finger into the neckline of your dress and tug to see if your pretty little nipples shine in the same way. You look surprised to see her and Carol uses your temporary shock to crowd you, pressing her body to yours and lifting her hand to stroke your cheek gently. “You look incredible, baby,” Carol husks out, dropping a soft kiss on your shiny supple lips. 

“Oh.” The little sound of surprise pops out of you before you can help it. When you take a step back, Carol takes that moment to step around and into your apartment. 

Carol slowly takes in the small two room apartment. It was rather cramped and a bit dingy, but you obviously take good care of your belongings. Old bookcases line the walls and sink under the weight of fat, squat books. An obviously used green velvet couch takes up most of the open floor space and a TV on a chipped wood table stands across from the couch. But multiple small clusters of flowers in mason jars are perched on several surfaces, brightening the space. And in the kitchen, directly behind the couch, several bright prints and images are hung. 

Carol was proud of you for making it on your own this far. She knew how many young girls struggled, but you had found a job and place to live in a new city without any family support or connections. Her baby was hard working and industrious. Thankfully, you wouldn't need to do that anymore. Carol would be taking care of all that for you soon enough. Carol was just happy that through your obvious struggles you'd remained innocent and pliable. Watching you stammer and flush when Carol gave you her full attention was exquisite and it made her eager to command that submissive spirit in the bedroom. You would be so fucking pretty whining and squirming under Carol in bed with a sore and tender ass. 

After Carol had seen her fill of the apartment, she turned to face you once more. Stepping close, Carol slid a hand up and down your arm. “Your apartment is so cute, baby. I wish I’d known you lived so close. I would have come over sooner.”

You shudder at the thought. “Ready to head out?,” you ask hurriedly.

By the time Carol slips into the booth seat next to you at the restaurant, you’ve calmed just a bit. While she’s been just as handsy at the show and on the way there, she’s also been charming. Being with Carol was like being on a rollercoaster. The breakneck pace she pushes things along makes your stomach churn and drop, but it also makes you excited and breathless. As with a roller coaster you’re pretty sure you’ll make it off alive, but there’s always the chance that you’ll slip past the safety restraints and tumble to your end. It was exciting and scary. Carol was exciting and scary.

The restaurant Carol has chosen is quiet and dimly lit. Floor to ceiling brick walls enclosed several small tables situated around the room. A few booths were also tucked against the back wall creating private enclaves. Each table is topped with a burning white candle. After you’d both ordered, Carol begins asking about your life. Where you grew up, familial relationships, your past romantic partners, what you liked to do in your free time, your favorite places in the city (so far); everything was fair game. There was a part of you that wanted to hold back, not to divulge everything about yourself, but another little part of you was flattered. You’d never had someone so interested in hearing about you. Of course, Carol might not have had a completely altruistic motive, but she did seem genuinely interested. After finishing your main course, Carol’s hand gently touches your knee, pushing the fabric of your dress up your leg and swirling patterns into the ticklish skin there. It's hard to believe that this was the same woman who’d brutalized Mel. But, you try to remind yourself that it was. 

Carol seems to be in a good mood, and she’d said at the beginning of your dinner that she wanted to know everything about you. That went both ways, right? You thought you should also be able to ask her about her life. If this was going to be a...relationship, there had to be some give and take. 

You take a deep breath and ask, “Carol, can I ask you a question?”

She squeezes your knee, “Anything, baby.”

Your question comes out quietly. “Do you hurt people, like you hurt Mel, often?”

Carol turns her body to you, meeting your eyes and she takes a beat before answering. “You want to know more about my work?”

You nod. 

“I fix problems,” she begins. “Almost any problem. I do that all over the country and all over the world. And there are different...methods for fixing problems. It’s my job to identify the most expeditious method for resolving any issue I’ve been hired to fix. People pay me a lot of money to do that well.” Her hand slides up your thigh and kneads. “What happened with Mel was unfortunate, and I’m so sorry if I scared you, but you'll get used to it.” 

Your heart stutters in your chest. That was not what you were hoping to hear. And you definitely didn’t think you’d get used to it. You look into her eyes and see what looks like affection there as you brace yourself to ask another question. “Would you ever hurt me like that?”

She chuckles softly. “I would never hurt you in the same way that I hurt Mel.” The tightness in your chest releases just a bit. “But I do have certain expectations of you, baby, and I will enforce boundaries with and for you. But never that harshly.” she rushes to finish. Your heart continues to beat a rapid rhythm against your ribs as you take in her words. You’d known that Carol had certain proclivities after your previous interactions with her, but to hear it stated so plainly was something different. You simply didn't want that kind of relationship. One with rules and punishments. You are even more sure you'll have to find some way to end things with Carol before they go any further. At that moment, the waitress clears the table, sets down your dessert and heads back to the kitchen. 

The hand gently stroking the inside of your thigh creeps up a bit higher, tickling delicate skin. You move to shift away from her, uncertain of how you're feeling at the moment and hoping for a bit of time to think. But as you begin to close your thighs, Carol gives the inside of your leg a sharp pinch. “One of those expectations is that you do as I request, and another is that you don’t move when I’m touching you--or about to touch you--unless I give you permission. Ok, baby?” 

You nod slowly and Carol nods back at you. “Now why don’t you just lean back and relax, sweetheart? This will feel good. I promise.” Carol was blocking you inside the booth so you couldn’t get out without making a scene. You rest your back fully against the back of the bench and close your eyes. 

“Look at me while I’m touching you,” Carol murmurs against your ear. You drop your head to the seat behind you and roll your head to face her, eyes fluttering at the sensations coursing through your body at her gentle stroking. 

“Carol,” you sigh.

Another pinch. “Ma'am!,” you quickly correct. “Ma'am, we’re in public. Someone might see.” 

“Don’t worry,” Carol purrs. “Nobody is going to see you. Nobody gets to see you like this but me, ok?”

You murmur affirmatively and give yourself over to the pleasure she’s inciting in you. Her slender fingers find your panty covered core and stroke over your damp slit. Her gentle caresses send fissures of pleasure shooting through you and you whimper softly. Carol hums approvingly. Her fingers pull your panties to one side and she slides one solitary finger inside your slick warmth to the second knuckle. Your body twists at the sensation, and you try to slide further down the bench to get her finger further inside you.  Carol laughs gently as she thrusts her finger in and out. In and out. It’s not enough. “More, please, ma'am” you sigh breathily. 

Carol chuckles. 

“My baby needs a little more? Do you want to come?,” Carol queries.

You nod frantically. “Do you want to come here at the table or back at home?” Your mind races. You really don’t want to lose control at the restaurant despite Carol’s assurances that nobody will see you. But, you also don’t want her in your home. As you ponder, Carol pushes her finger deeper inside you and the slick sensation makes you gasp. “Home!”

Carol pulls her finger out before slipping it in her mouth to suck gently. “Hmm, delicious,” she intones. Carol stands up quickly and strides over to the waitress, credit card in hand as you try to gather yourself and your senses. She’s back before you know it, quickly packing up your dessert into small takeout containers, and grabbing your hand to drag you out the booth.  

Just as you’d suspected, Carol was just as forceful in bed. She’d essentially dragged you to her apartment (or at least where she was staying while in the city), before pouncing on you. Her apartment was modern, but understated, largely empty of decoration. Her hands dragged, unzipped, and shifted until you were left in only your underwear. 

She pushes you into her room and onto her large bed before climbing on top of you. Her lips meet yours and her tongue strokes the inside of your mouth sensuously. She sucks and nips sharply at your lips before slowly making her way down your jawline to your neck. As her lips travel to your clavicle, Carol slips one hand underneath you to press your back into an arch. Her other deftly unclasps your bra before  tossing it aside. Her teeth gently scrape at your skin before moving to your nipples. Latching on, she gives you a hard suck, immediately laving the skin with her tongue with small strokes to soothe the now aching bud. She continues to suck on first one nipple, then the other until both are sore and puffy and you are whining and squirming underneath her. Seemingly inspired by your strained noises, her teeth continue worrying the taut bud of one breast as her fingers slip into your panties and begin to rub your clit.

She releases you with a soft, wet pop as her fingers continue exploring, first one, then two of her fingers pushing all the way into your tight hole and making you moan incoherently. “This little pussy is perfection, baby, I can’t wait to fuck you,” Carol rumbles, mouth still against your breast.   

”Wait,” you bleat out. 

Carol rises to her knees and smacks your pussy hard. “Ouch,” you shout. 

"No, baby. I’m not waiting anymore. I was supposed to get to fuck you on our last date, but you stood me up. You've been teasing me long enough. Now get undressed and get on your hands and knees." 

Carol pauses her words to cock her head and pin you with a hard gaze when she notices you aren't moving. "Now, baby," she says harshly while reaching over to give your thigh a hard pinch. You yelp at the blooming pain, then take a few deep breaths and resign yourself to what was about to happen. Your heart pounded in your chest at how fast, again, Carol was getting her way. You felt so overwhelmed and helpless that you couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and threatened to spill over your lower lids. Hands shaking, you removed your simple white lace underwear and began moving to your hands and knees.

Satisfied that you were following directions sufficiently (though you were still moving too slow in Carol's opinion, --something she would let slide tonight but would train out of you soon enough) Carol reaches over to open her bedside drawer and pulls out an intimidating strap on. Your movements pause as you catch sight of her maneuvering it onto her body, and your eyes widen in fear. It's as thick as your wrist, frighteningly long, and has a wicked curve. Thinking of that splitting you open makes you sob. But Carol is having none of it. With herself situated, she turns her attention back to you. She manhandles you into her desired position, ignoring your breathless pleas to pause for a moment. 

Your eyes are glued in fear to her linen duvet as you feel the fat head of her huge cock run through your slippery folds, stopping to nudge at your clit before continuing back up to your hole. Carol rests her hands on the flare between your waist and hips, before tightening her grip and starting to push into you. 

You moan pathetically as you feel the head of her cock pop into you. Even this first inch is a stretch and you know there's a lot more coming. Carol gives you no reprieve as she continues sliding into you, splitting you open at a slow but steady pace. Your cunt flutters frantically around the invading cock, trying desperately to create space where there previously was none. When you're sure you can't take any more, you begin to whine and try to move away. Carol tuts softly before giving your ass a sharp smack, and leans over to murmur in your ear. "I told you not to ever move away from me when I'm touching you." Her words send shivers down your spine.

With that, she tightens her grip on your hips, before lifting you and giving you a rough tug back, impaling you with the last few inches of her cock. You sob into the sheets at the pain coursing through you. Carol threads the fingers of one hand into your hair, yanking back to ensure you can no longer move away from her. "Gotta keep you nice and close, baby. " You shudder as Carol's free hand begins to explore your body while she gives you a few slow but deep experimental thrusts. Though you still haven't adjusted to the fullness of your cunt, Carol begins to increase the pace, drawing heat and an intense pleasure to your belly. Her touch is everywhere -- sliding over your shoulders, rubbing and twisting at your nipples until you sob, tickling down your back to rub over your ass, pinching your inner thighs before moving them apart, forcing your back into a deeper arch and making the heavy cock inside you slide that much deeper. 

You're barely holding on. Carol is everywhere and there is only Carol. Since you'd  met, Carol had been pushing every interaction and every conversation the way she wanted it to go. There was no room for disobedience, no room for hesitation at one of her many orders, and no room for negotiation. Everything has to be Carol's way, and you'd seen the potential consequences firsthand. That first night you'd seen the violence she'd casually doled out, and hadn't ever wanted that to be you. Now you were wishing for a few simple broken bones. This was so much more violating. 

Her cock is rubbing against every inch of you, making you feel stretched to the limits. As much as this hurts, it brings an equal amount of pleasure. Your body hums at the intensity of Carol fucking you. Every nerve ending is alight and you can feel the beginning of that coil tightening in your gut. You feel sick, and scared. You're sick at your body's enthusiastic response to Carol's rough handling. You can hear the slick, wet noises you make each time she thrusts into your raw and battered pussy. But you're too scared of the immediate punishment to try to resist or adjust your body to make yourself a bit more comfortable. So just as you begin to let your mind wander from this place and try to relax into the pleasure and ignore the pain, Carol removes the hand that's been roaming your body. The sudden lack of sensation gets your attention. 

She gives your hair another yank, twisting your head so you're awkwardly looking at her. She looks...depraved, but beautiful. Her piercing eyes take in every expression on your face and flick from the bouncing of your tits, to the cock disappearing inside of you and back to your face at a rapid pace. When a particularly rough thrust forces the curve of the cock into your g-spot and you part your lips to yowl at the ecstasy she shoves her pointer and middle fingers into your mouth and tells you to suck. You know better than to disobey. You suckle at her fingers as they rub over your tongue, reaching further back until they press into the back of your mouth. As you choke on the intrusion, and Carol continues to rub at your tongue as you gag, her eyes light up in glee, and you worry about the plans she might have for your mouth. You don't think you can take the hefty cock down your throat if Carol demanded it, but you know you'd have to try. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to escape the intensity of Carol's gaze and put that potential nightmare out of your mind, but Carol gives your hair a sharp tug before demanding you "look at me."

When you do, she finally-- blessedly-- pulls her fingers from your mouth. They're covered in your saliva and a small string of spit connects her fingers to your lips. She murmurs that she wishes she were close enough to lick the drop of saliva off your lips, and you can't help but be thankful she isn't. You don't think you can take much more of this. More of Carol everywhere. 

But you've never been lucky, and just as you begin to relax again you feel a light stroking pressure at the opening of your tight puckered hole. 

You start and your mind begins to race as you feel her spit slick finger begin to press into you, stretching your ass open in an insistent burn. 

"You ever let anyone fuck you here?" Carol asks. You gather your wits about you before she has to repeat her question. "No, ma'am" you mutter out in a broken moan. 

"Good," Carol responds. "I'm going to be the last person in this tight little pussy and the first and last in this little asshole." She sounds pleased.  Despite knowing the uselessness of trying, you plead for her to stop, to give you a short break. She hushes you gently, more gentle than she had been, as her finger slips deeper into you and she murmurs "Both holes baby. Gotta get you used to this. I'm not going to fuck you here with my cock tonight but it's happening soon so we've gotta get you trained. Wouldn't want to hurt you." 

Carol removes her hand from your hair and uses it to brace your hip in place as you wail and try to buck at the intrusion.

"Ah ah ah, baby. Hold still. One more,” she murmurs as she pushes in a second slender finger. “You can do it. There you go. All done. You don't move unless I tell you to, remember baby?" Your fingers scramble for purchase in Carol's sheets as you pant. You thought you'd been full before. You thought Carol had violated you as much as possible but you should have known she'd find another way to possess you. You cry into the sheets before feeling Carol smack your ass twice and dig her fingers into your hip making you yelp sharply.

"I asked you a question, baby. Answer me."

You sob out a miserable "yes, ma'am." Satisfied with your response, Carol begins to alternate thrusting into your ass and pussy, both pushing deeper into you than you thought possible. Your body quivers at the push and pull of her inside you and her free hand is back to roaming over your body. After twisting at your sore nipples her hand coasts over the soft skin of your belly to your slippery folds. She begins to rub gently at your clit. Light teasing touches that send you hurdling toward an orgasm but aren't quite enough to send you over the edge. 

You hear Carol's smooth voice behind you "are you close, baby? I can feel you squeezing my fingers and can see that sweet little cunt of yours fluttering around my cock." 

You nod, before remembering to answer affirmatively verbally. Desperate to ease just a bit of your discomfort, you shift forward a tiny bit, resting more heavily on your arms and slightly relieving the pressure of Carol's cock pressing against your cervix and the deep press of her fingers in your ass. 

Carol didn't have to-- she could tell you were trying so hard to be a good girl for her--but this time she just wanted to. She smacked your already sore ass cheek hard three times for forgetting to answer her verbally. Carol knew she would enjoy seeing the bruises tomorrow as much she was enjoying putting them there tonight. Carol slips her free arm under your stomach and drags you back toward her, more than making up for any marginal ground you may have gained in your attempt to adjust and mounting you more firmly on her cock and fingers.

You whimper and stop moving, simply shuddering and moaning in time with Carol's thrusts.

Her fingers return to your clit, rubbing and pinching until your body is tight with tension, ready to snap and tumble into the orgasm she's been building you towards. Carol's fingers quicken their pace, drawing small tight circles over your bud as you feel your cunt tightening and the coil inside you snaps. Carol continues her thrusts, more forceful now to get past your quivering flesh. Your body shivers and shudders as the pleasure courses through you, made all the more intense by Carol's continued movements. She forces you right through this climax and violently into another. All the while you hear her voice saying how happy she is that you're together now, and that she can't wait to do this everyday. 

You're overstimulated; sore and tired. Carol slows her thrusts before pulling her fingers and cock out of you. Your body sags in relief. She removes her strap and positions herself at the head of the bed. She grabs you from your prone position and pushes you down until your head rests between her legs. Hands weave back into your hair, and she pushes your face into her slippery wet cunt, telling you to lick. You're exhausted and horrified and scared, but you lick her gently- running your tongue up and down her slit, suckling at her clit as she moans. She grabs your head in both hands and continues to maneuver you as she pleases. 

Later, after Carol comes on your tongue twice, you lay curled in her bed, shocked and softly crying. She returns from the bathroom and sits in bed beside you, stroking your hair and back. Though you know better than to question her, you simply can't process that this might be your new reality.

Occasionally Carol slips her fingers over your chest to rub and twist at your sore tits. After a while, she leans over to whisper in your ear. "You cry so pretty baby, but I only want to see you cry on my cock. So if you keep crying, I'll put you there."

A wave of horror runs through you as Carol gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek before sliding into bed behind you and tugging you close into the cocoon of her body. You wipe your tears on her pillow and pray for sleep to take you.

[remembertheplunge]

Orange is big this year

12/17/2004. 12:15pm

Very intense noon. 

Jim is aggressive and angry and furious over Christmas.

He made me feel so bad that I said everything is awful.

He said he’s thinking about leaving.

He resents Mom for insisting on Christmas at her house.

The only way out is to say no to Mom.

Jim mentions compromise. Christmas morning at Mom’s, but no Christmas dinner there. But, he doesn’t want to leave our house on Christmas.

He said Mom agreed to no Christmas at Thanksgiving, but, then, Christmas demands…so tense. My jaws ache. 12:20pm

Jim considers another compromise: go down tomorrow—have lunch. Bring presents, etc.

Mom’s response to the above: “Your not coming to Christmas is break up of the family. Not much of a family, anyway. ..Makes me sad.”

Super guilt magnet

But: there was a compromise and a decision.

Very hard to do.

7:12pm

Mom hates me.

Desperate Housewives was written by “Cherry”, an openly gay man who was $30,000 in debt.

12/17/2004. 12:15pm

Very intense noon. 

Jim is aggressive and angry and furious over Christmas.

He mad me feel so bad that I said everything iOS awful.

He said he’s thinking about leaving.

He resents Moim foer insisting on Christmas at her house.

The only way out is to say no to Mom.

Jim mentions compromise. Christmas morning at Mom’s, but on Christmas dinner there. But, he doesn’t want to leave our house on Christmas.

He said Mom agreed to no Christmas at Thanksgiving, but, then, Christmas demands…so tense. My jaws ache. 12:20pm

Jim considers another compromise: go down tomorrow—have lunch.

Bring presents, etc.

—said at Thanksgiving Christmass here

—spend it at our house.

Mom’s response to the above: “Your not coming to Christmas is break up of the family..Makes me sad.”

Super guilt magnet

But: there was a compromise snd a decision.

Very hard to do.

7:12pm

Mom hates me.

Desperate Housewives was written by “Cherry”, an openly gay man who was 30,000 in debt.

Jim cooked two meals today:

Lunch: hamburger strak: onions, peppers sautéed.

Dinner: shrimp, snow peas, Myer lemons and Manderine oranges  from our gardens all sauteed together.

Delicious.

He went to the store. He meant to be there 1/2 hour but was so mesmerized, he was there an hour.

Mom is clearly pissed

7:47pm

Foggy out back of our house.

Heavy emotional day.

“Orange is big this year.” Jim.

Jim cooked two meals today:

Lunch: hamburger steak: onions, peppers sautéed.

Dinner: shrimp, snow peas, Myer lemons and Manderine oranges  from our gardens all sauteed together.

Delicious.

He went to the store. Save Mart. He meant to be there 1/2 hour but was so mesmerized, he was there an hour.

Mom is clearly pissed

7:47pm

Foggy out back of our house.

Heavy emotional day.

“Orange is big this year.” Jim.

End of entry

Notes: 3/15/2025

The above 12/17/2004 entry from my journal is a slice of family life at the time. Jim was my gay partner. we lived about 30 mile from the town my mother lived in. Mom and Jim were both demanding personalities and I was caught in the middle.

It's interesting that in this entry, Jim said he was thinking of leaving our relationship. I don't recall hi ever saying that!

I'm not sure what we actually did that Christmas. But, our relationships continued on through Jim's death in 2009. Mom was vey supportive of us through that.

This entry shows that a gay relationship, like any other, can be subject to the stresses and strains and happinesses brought on by their natal families.

Jim was a real foodie and loved to linger studying the grocery isles. Drove me crazy. After he died, it took me a long time to return to the Trader Joe's we had shopped at. His memory's so associated with it.