#please read this ive been working on this for like almost a week now and its only half done

[leclerc-hs]

tachycardia pt.2 - cl16

pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated French (didn't really put french in this), NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.5k author's note: hi!!!!!! did you miss me??? I missed all of you! sorry this is SO short but I wanted to post something in honor of reaching 2,000 FOLLOWERS!!! I love u all sm and I'm sorry this is kinda shit. I've been in a really bad writing funk recently but I'm hoping to get out of it. don’t forget to talk to me and don’t be shy I love to hear from all of you!!!! I will try to get the ball rolling on this series as soon as I can. I just kinda started it without even knowing where I wanted it to go so I'm kinda just winging it as I write with whatever comes to mind. if you have anything you would like to see happen in this series PLEASE don’t be shy and let me know I love to hear your thoughts and ideas!!!! xoxo taglist: @amalialeclerc @barcelonaloverf1life @charizznorizz @magicpancake @zabwlky1999

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

AS YOU SIT across from your younger sister in the cozy confines of the café adjacent to the bustling hospital, you can’t help but marvel at the enigmatic workings of her mind.

“Is it really like that? Sex in the on-call rooms?” The question bursts forth accompanied by a hearty laugh, your body leaning forward in laughter. 

“How many times do I have to tell you no?”  You retort, meeting her gaze with an air of firmness amidst the playful banter. 

“What about in the locker room?” She presses further, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“No, and stop indulging in such ludicrous fantasies.” You respond, bringing your cup of coffee to your mouth, you pause before taking a sip. “You know well enough that I don’t engage in relationships with doctors.” A fleeting sense of contentment washes over you with the warmth of the coffee. 

She emits a deep sigh, deeply annoyed. “Are any of them at least cute?”

You feel your stomach churn as the image of Doctor Leclerc floods your thoughts. He’s far more than just attractive. You hesitate for a beat, staring at her wide, expectant eyes. “Yes.”

Her eyes light up almost instantly. “Who?”

“I forget. I don’t really know him.” Liar.

“What does he look like?”

“Brown hair. Very green eyes.” Your fingers twiddle with the napkin on the table, feigning disinterest.

She gives you a skeptical look as if she can read your mind and tell you’re lying. But she doesn’t push further. “When do you have to be back?”

You briefly glance at the time on the screen of your phone, “Shit.” Rising abruptly, you shove the chair back with a jolt, shooting your sister an apologetic glance. “I have to go. I’ll see you at mom’s this weekend?”

You’re already pushing the front door of the café open by the time you hear your sister half-shout, “Yes!”

-

You burst into your patient’s room, breaths coming in ragged gasps, cheeks flushed with exertion. You say a silent prayer to whatever higher power that he wasn’t here yet. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” 

Did you mention that this particular patient has a knack for hitting on you?

Your heart skips a beat, and if it weren’t for the already flushed hue of your cheeks, you’re certain the blush creeping up on your neck would be glaringly obvious.

“Mr.,” You pause to glance at the chart to double-check his name, “Mr. Hart, how are you feeling today?”

“Meilleur, now that you’re here.” Better. You curl your lips upward into a soft smile, jokingly rolling your eyes at his antics.

“Surely you’re sick of seeing my face, Mr. Hart.” You quip, reaching for a stool beside his bed while simultaneously checking his IV bags. “Today’s the day I think!”

Mr. Hart has been in the hospital for over a week, recovering from a surgery for a atrial septal defect.  

“Jamais.” Never. He insists, his head sinking back against the pillow as his gaze follows your every movement. “I’m so close to being able to ask you out properly.”

In that moment, a new scent permeates the air, distinct and alluring. Without even turning around, you sense his presence—the man who just breezed in behind you. Whether he heard the exchange or not, you weren’t sure, but the subtle shift in the atmosphere is palpable regardless.

“Mr. Hart,” His voice, deep and honeyed, washes over you, almost too sweet to be genuine. “Still stirring up trouble for our lovely nurses?” Despite the playful tone, you can sense an undercurrent of something morecalculated beneath his words. His presence radiates warmth, his tall figure looming beside you, close enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. 

“No,” Mr. Hart grins. “Just her.”

Doctor Leclerc’s smile remains fixed, but you catch the subtle clench of his jaw as you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Just stopping by to let you know that we might need to keep you for another night.”

The news catches you off guard; you were under the impression that Mr. Hart would be discharged by the end of the day. As if he could sense the questions brewing in your mind, Doctor Leclerc continues, his voice reassuring. “Just a precautionary measure. I assure you; we’ll have you cleared to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”

Mr. Hart hums nonchalantly, as if the prospect of another night in the hospital doesn’t bother him in the slightest. His attention remains fixated on you as you inspect the sutures on his chest, his fingertips grazing against your gloved hand with a deliberate touch. “Can’t complain as long as she’s the one checking on me.”

You let out a small laugh, but don’t say anything, as you stand up and remove the gloves to toss them in the waste bin nearby.  

“Mr. Hart,” Doctor Leclerc’s voice is unamused now. “You would be wise to refrain your hands from touching her again. Next time I won’t ask so politely.”

-

Pressed against a wall while in the presence of Doctor Leclerc seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. His tall frame blocking any potential onlookers from seeing who he had cornered.

“Dis-moi,” Tell me. His voice is low, lethal. “Do you flirt with patients often, hm?” 

“What is your problem?” You quip, your brows furrowed as you crane your neck back to look him in the eyes. 

“My problem?” He scoffs, leaning closer to your face, his lips thinned in annoyance. “My problem is that I have to stand there and watch a patient flirt with you,” He clicks his tongue in frustration, turning his head to look away for a brief moment. Giving you a moment, to take in the sharpness of his jawline, and the unshaven scruff that shadows it. “And you…” His voice trailed off.

“And I, what?” You pulled your lips into a slight frown.

“You smell like that,” His hands wavered around your body, in an exasperated manner.

“Smell like what?” 

As he shook his head in disbelief, a mixture of frustration and something deeper etched acoss his features. The disbelief seemed to stem from his inability to fathom that you were completely unaware of something soevident to him. It was that scent, the sweet floral scent that always accompanied you. It drove him mad sometimes. How it was almost the only thing he could focus on sometimes.

With a disapproving click of his tongue, he took a deliberate step back, as if needed physical distance to collect his thoughts.

Ignoring your inquiry, his gaze softened, the intensity in his eyes giving way to a gentler expression as they locked on yours.

Caught off guard by the swift change in his demeanor, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of whiplash from the abrupt shift.

“I wouldn’t say often,” you began, punctuating the order with a slight shrug. “It’s all harmless.”

His response was solemn, his voice carrying a weight of protectiveness that left no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want them to put their hands on you ever again,” he declared firmly. “If you ever have issues, you can come to me.”

His words resonated with a gravity that made it clear he meant every syllable, his stance unwavering in its determination to shield you from harm.

Your throat tightened as you swallowed, acutely aware of the intensity in his gaze tracing the delicate curve of your neck.

“Moving forward, I will be the one to check on Mr. Hart,” he announced, his voice carrying a note of authority softened by a touch of concern.

With a deliberate motion, he extended his arm, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear.

The proximity of his touch sent a rush of warmth to your cheeks, the tenderness in his gesture catching you off guard, yet somehow soothing in its unexpectedness. Dr. Leclerc’s presence seemed to envelop you whenever he was near. As if nothing else in the world existed no matter the premise of the discussion, including the constant bickering you two always seemed to do.

“Will you be at James’ retirement party?” The question slipped from your lips before you could fully weigh its significance. Yet, deep down, you knew the answer matters more to you than you cared to admit. You found yourself wanting him to be there, though the reasons remained elusive, even to yourself.

Yes, he was an ass to you most of the time. But, for some reason you couldn’t really fathom, he was always in the forefront of your mind.

His head tilted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Though he would never openly confess, the idea of attending hadn’t crossed his mind until that moment. However, if there was even the slightest chance that you would be there, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. 

“Yes,” he replied simply, the single word carrying more weight than its brevity suggested.

You nodded slowly, as if processing his response required a deeper level of understanding. “See you there?” You ventured, the question hanging in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications.

He nodded, pulling his lips into the faintest smirk.

“See you there, mon lapin.”

[flyingspicerack]

Inside Job Pt2Ep3 Myc Analysis Pt1

ALRIGHT FUCKERS! AS THE OFFICAL CEO OF MYC ITS TIME i GIVE YOU MY BREAKDOWN ON EP 3 BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE WILL!!!!!

THIS IS GONNA BE A BIGGUN AND PRETTY MUCH A PLAY BY PLAY SO STRAP IN!!!

The way he's clinging to the rope here? Oh so cute. But also! Very telling of how he's able to distribute his weight? Body and tendrils seem much like.... idk squid/octopus like? Also in this scene, all of the insults he throws around <3 He's such a catty little bitch I also love that Gigi is the one he doesn't insult the most through the ep? Like I know everyone is like OMG ANDRE AND MYC are such good 'friends' and all that (yes i am one of those too) but we see in pt1 that Myc and Gigi hang out a fair bit and I like to think he's got like, a respect for her? Idk

The fucking way the little itty bitty orb inside his orb gets smaller when the flashlight from the security guard hits him is so brief but oh so important to me, oh my GOD this little bit of detail has me HGFUIEOHGFOI:SGHJIO

HHHHH OK FIRSTLY! Reagan tells Myc to, and I quote "Spurt on that guy!" And he refers to himself as a soft serve machine that needs to warm up and cannot just jizz on command, which definitely makes sense. He also says for no one to look at him so.... hes shy

SO THAT leads me to believe, that his jiss doesn't actually need to be processed at all to become the stuff they put in the memory erasing guns, so, they can just erase minds... SO what does that mean for sex with humans, as well as that one time Andre licked Myc's flagella on the yacht during the wedding, he didn't get erased.... thoughts thoughts thoughts

REAGAN YELLING AT HIM AND CALLING HIM A WASTE OF SPACE FUCKING HURT ME

OH MY GOD BABY! NO DONT CRY!!!!!!! UAOGH WHAT THE FUCK

Reagan: Okay I was not ready for that" ME NEITHER BITCH????? MYC CRYING????? WHY WOULD HE CRY????

WAS ANISE RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING IN THAT MYC IS ACTUALLY A DWEEB???? UH YEAH?????? IM AS SURPRISED AS YALL ARE

god ok you guys im never gonna stop talking about this, we got so much mushroom lore, we have so much mushroom plot, we have so much MYC LORE AND I AM HERE FOR IT!!!!! AND IM WRITING IT ALL DOWN IN ONE PLACE!! RIGHT HERE!!!

Myc LIED about how old he was prior to this. In Pt1Ep3 we see his RightSwipe profile says 4041 for his age, but this here is his 5000 year reunion, so he's says he's younger than he really is.

He's from "A million year old mushroom hive cluster from the center of the earth" MILLION!!!!!! HES OLDER THAN WE CAN EVEN COMPREHEND

FIRST he apparently lied and said that everyone was jealous of his "huge dong" and he left, THEN JUST IN THIS SCENE, he says that they kicked him out because he was too much of a rebel, AND THEN AT THE END OF HIS RANT he finally comes clean and says that he never went to prom, graduation, AND no one signed his yearbook BECAUSE HE WAS A FUCKING DWEEB THAT LOOKED LIKE THIS:

(yeah honey i'd hate you too)

he was .... a fucking DWEEB! HE WAS A NERD!! THE BRACES?! THE PIMPLES! THE.... somehow.... FACIAL HAIR?? The hat.. yeesh boy ouch

WHEN HE LEFT HE WANTED TO PROVE HE COULD BE SOMEBODY! oH MY LORD!!!! HE CALLS HIMSELF A SINGLE MIDDLE AGED LOSER.... HOW OLD IS HE IF HES MIDDLE AGED IM GOING INSANE OVER HERE!!!!!!!!!

also his name, can we take about the name we have a real full name for him its not Magic Myc, its fucking MYC CELLIUM im going feral here and frothing

This uh.... this makes me..... hes so.... PATHETIC!! He's crying!!! HES FUCKING WHIMPERING AND CRYING AND SNIFLING CAUSE HES SO ASHAMED ABOUT GOING TO HIS REUNION LIKE WHAT THE FUCK HES LITERALLY BABYGIRL I DONT UNDERSTAND???????????????????

why are you so moe? WHY ARE YOU THE CUTEST GUY EVER! HIS GASP! Also like, Reagan, you REALLLY think this dude is never gonna insult you again? I thought you were a super genius? How can you literally be this stupid.

SORTA MUCUS SORTA JIZZ CALLED JUCUS!!!!!!!

I think it is SO AMAZING that the hole down to the mushroom hive is in Oregon, cause like, the worlds biggest mycelium network is under there.... hehe

FRUITY FLAILING ASS BITCH!!

OK If you go to 4:40 and look in the bg, you can see Myc get on the elevator down and he is fucking TREMBLING!! HE is SO nervous!! IM FUCK NGKJENSfewtgfwsg

Myc confirmed leftist, so thats a W but an L for thinking u can ge a nobel prize in podcasting... then again hes a mushroom and doesnt care so he is always a W in my heart

Look how far his flagella can stretch

HOLLOW EARTH! OH ITS SO LOVELY! AND I HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT IT

I am very curious to know, if when Myc tells the hive to put a 'psychic metaphor' over the place, is that... only for the characters in the show or is it also for the viewer? It has to be, because we are also human and therefore wouldn't be able to comprehend the societal differences of mushroom dynamics! RIGHT?! SO I will also touch upon things as they happen later with this mindset.

FUCK!! RIGHT HERE!! Myc's asking Reagan if his BREATH smells bad!!!! He touches the top little frills and then puts his tentacle under Reagan's nose!! Does he... His scent glands?? WHAT?? AHHHHH I DONT KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS???

... I got one thing to say about stem-mantha... myc sure does love pink bitches .... makes eye contact with anise

LOOK AT HIM ALL.... NERVOUS!

Okay so then... Stem-Mantha asks if Myc was the guy who did puzzles with her parents so she could go have sex... SO, yes, the fucking mushrooms DO fuck each other, AND they have like, parents They dont just grow?? (As seen from Myc wanting to be a mommy in Pt2Ep7)

THEN Myc gets fucking pelted with a goddamn football and we are now included on the information that Myc ran out at graduation before everyone merged consciousnesses and became assimilated. SO It is OH SO interesting to see that each of these mushroom clusters are there OWN individual personalities but THEN they all are joined and have a shared consciousness thats a part of the hive!

Stem-Mantha then asks if the gang are Myc's parole officers, so does that mean that everyone was under the impression he went to like, jail topside after he left hollow earth??

HIS TENDRIL HEART IM FUCKING LOSING IT AHHHHHHH

ALRIGHT!!! FUCKERS FIRSt things first. Yes he wore that stupid fucking "NO FAT CHIX" hat but are we talking about it? NO, well YES, in that he wore it because he was in denail thats it thats the story thank you very much

SECONDLY here is were I'm touching upon the psychic metaphor thing again right here. I am thinking waaaay too deeply about a silly little cartoon and i feel very much like 'charlie pepe silvia meme' right now in idk how meta this whole thing is supposed to be? Like I don't think Myc was actually into dragon ball Z considering it was 5000 years ago and dbz didn't exist then, and we're just supposed to believe dudes was the mushroom equivalent of a little itty bitty pathetic nerd with pimples and acne, right??

but im also crazy coo coo bananas insane in thinkiing how fucking funny would it be if dbz was some kind of true space epic and myc is like, the equivalent of a greek mythology nerd in that hes a little fanboy.

THIRDLY. MY MANS GOT EXTRA STRONG POWERS THAT MAKE HIM EXTRA SENSITIVE?????? HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NURSE

His fucking signature babygirl i loooove you its so cute what the FUCK!! and look at how he carried himself like a fucking .... beanie babie, hes full of beans or whatever, i just love how this fucker carries his weight its so cool to look at wtf

HES NERVOUS AGAIN IM JUST GFJHEL"GSGJ"LG I KNOW ITS NOT IMPORTANT BUT IT IS TO ME

They are SO fucking mean to him. But also this scene, you can see that not everyone is on board with Reagan doing this, like they're all really uncomfortable when she pulls this picture up, and Brett isn't even there

Why is there so much jucus... was he tearing up about getting found out? OH LAWDY I HOPE NOT ILL FUCKING CRY?????

HAHHA SO this post has gotten waaay too long so i think i'm gonna make it two parts, so part 2 will be post assimilation!!! Also because posts can only have 30 images and we at the max babes

[be-good-to-bugs]

never again would i like to work on Halloween

[jeysbvck]

even if it's a false god (we'd still worship this love)

a/n; ive been working on this for over a year, & after four rewrites, its finally here! thank you to @pedroassmanpascal for your help when i was conceiving this & working on it last year! this is my first time working in this genre, & it hasn't been beta read all the way thru, so please let me know what you think!

warnings; pov change, a butt load of angst, age gap (reader is in her thirties), violence, death/murder, near death experience, voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, male!recieving, female!recieving, penetrative sex (if ive missed any feel free to let me know!!)

taglist; @likedovesinthewnd @harmshake @nightmare-viper

word count; 7.3k

summary; Joel's been pretending you don't exist for weeks now, and you have no idea why. But when you get caught up in a life or death situation, confessions are made, lines are crossed, and your relationship is changed.

Every single part of Joel's body hurt, and he was exhausted. Joel was always exhausted, but this day had been particularly hard. Everything that he - and you had gone through had been for nothing. The supplies and weapons you had been looking for had been looted already. Only a few old, rusty tins of food covered in at least a years worth of dust had been left behind. Not to mention the constant hoards of infected you had to fight through. Now, it was a fight to get back to the QZ to make another plan that could end the exact same way. Yeah, he'd had plenty of bad days, but this one would sting for a while. The hope that had been reignited had gone out again. Now he was just tired.

No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't sleep. He was just lying on the hard floor -the fabric floor of the tent and his blanket doing nothing to help with the lumps under his back- with his eyes closed and ears alert. He knew how dangerous it could be, the horrors lurking in the woods, even when it was calm and quiet, and he hoped you had heeded his advice and were asleep with your gun.

But then he heard a whimper, and his eyes shot open as he stayed silent, his hand on his pistol. A barely heard whine, and he sighed with relief as he realised it was you. These past few weeks had been taxing - although the past twenty years hadn't exactly been a cake walk - and it dawned on him that you were probably crying. Joel had been so drained and tired during dinner that he selfishly hadn't noticed you were unusually quiet. He also didn't think about it when you retired to bed early. Joel tried to ignore the sounds, but he couldn't, he was just picturing you curled up in your tent, crying yourself to sleep, and the guilt of not noticing anything was wrong was gnawing at him. He groaned and slipped out of his tent, making his way to yours while putting the gun in the back of his jeans.

He quietly navigated the campsite and stopped outside your tent, unsure how to proceed. Did he knock on the fabric door, or did he call out your name? He wasn't good at this stuff, and he hadn't been for a long time, but he also knew that you needed someone; or, more specifically, you needed a friend. You were just that kind of person, even if the world had forced you to pretend you weren't. For a few seconds, he couldn't hear anything, but just as he was about to give up, he heard another noise, but this one sounded more like a moan. Then another one, louder now, and there was no mistaking it that time. Joel's body stiffened, and he started to get hot as his cock twitched at the thought of you getting yourself off, mere feet away from him. He heard your sleeping bag rustle slightly, and he bolted back to his tent, breathing heavily as he zipped the tent door.

He stared up at the roof of the tent, trying - but ultimately failing - not to think about what he'd just almost interrupted. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he had to unbutton them just for some relief. He tried to divert his thoughts, to think about anything else, but his mind took some winding paths just to get him back to thinking of you. Joel groaned. He needed a release, and it had been a long time since he'd done, well, anything. It wasn't going to hurt anyone, and you were doing it just mere feet away from him, so what was stopping him? They were all flimsy arguments. He knew that, but it was the easiest solution to the problem at hand.

Joel slipped a hand into his boxers, his cold touch sending goosebumps down his spine, the sensation making him harder. He began to stroke himself, and when he closed his eyes, he could see you writhing around in your tent, your fingers deep inside yourself. He could hear you from your tent still, your quiet whimpering and moaning sounding out through the stillness of the forest, and Joel caught his own moan in his throat as his movements got quicker. He couldn't bring himself to care about the possible dangers lurking, the grip he had his cock on tightening slightly as pictures of you clouded him. He imagined you being in here with him, imagined that you were both watching each other. It didn't take long for Joel to make himself orgasm, and he cleaned himself up, hoping sleep came to him before the guilt did.

-

Joel spent the next few days convinced he was going crazy. Every time you looked at him, he was sure you could see the guilt he was struggling to hide, like his memories would be projected for you to see. Every time you said his name, he was waiting for you to tell him you knew what he'd done, that you'd seen him outside your tent, and heard him in his. He felt so dirty, creepy, ashamed, and at some point, he shut down completely. He knew you were confused, you weren't as good at hiding your emotions as you thought, and you were confused by what you could've possibly done to warrant the cold shoulder from Joel, who could barely look at you, and it made him feel worse. He just didn't know what else to do, so he went back to what he knew best.

After traipsing through the woods for what felt like forever, Joel just wanted to set up camp and get through the night. He was tired, sore, hungry, and needed a moment away from you, without your sad eyes staring at him, without your attempts to get him to open up. So when you announced that you'd had enough and insisting that you stop for the night, Joel didn't argue. While Joel set up the tents, you gathered some wood from the perimeter of the "campsite", and Joel took a moment to watch on fondly, smiling to himself at the smug look of accomplishment on your face, taking the "win" against Joel.

Dinner was silent that night, as the past few had been, and while Joel refused to look up from his food, you were refusing to take your eyes off Joel. Your gaze was burning a hole in his head. He felt scrutinised as he ate, and it took everything in him not to engage. He didn't know if you were trying to annoy him into talking to you or if you were lost in your own thoughts, but he didn't ask.

Once again, straight after dinner, you headed into your tent, sending a soft "goodnight" Joel's way. He looked up but not before the sound of the zip echoed out, and he sighed, rubbing his temples.

The fire had died long ago, but Joel still hadn't found the energy to crawl into his tent. He stared up at the starry night, and just as his mind started to wander into dangerous territory -somewhere he never went if he could help it- he heard the noise that had been playing on a loop in his head for the past two days. His cock stirred and he covered his face with his hands. Not again.

He knew he had to get back to his tent and fast, but he had to do it quietly. He began to slowly move the canisters and empty tins, careful not to make any noise. He didn't want you to think he was a pervert. Although that's exactly how he felt right about now. He was about to stand up when he heard a single word from your mouth that made him stop in his tracks.

Joel.

Fuck. Oh fuck. Did you know he was there? Did you hear him? Could you see his silhouette projected on your tent, like it was a cinema screen? He ran through a hundred excuses in his head as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw no signs that you'd heard him. He scoffed at himself and shook his head. He really was going crazy.

Mmm, Joel, don't stop!

He definitely wasn't going crazy, there was no mistaking it. Not only were you masturbating, mere feet from Joel, but you were moaning his name, and he had never been so hard in his life. He couldn't stop himself, and once again, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, and while you moaned and gasped from inside the tent, Joel pleasured himself.

His precum was seeping out and over his fingers, and he bit down harshly on his lip to stop his own sounds from escaping. His motion got quicker, matching the sweet sounds coming from your tent, and when you brought yourself to orgasm and Joel's name slipped from your lips, he came undone. He emptied himself onto the dirt, too entranced by your gasps to notice the streams spilling over his fists. He dropped his head against the log behind him and groaned.

"Shit."

-

It happened three more times, and Joel had never been more conflicted. He was constantly stressed and on edge; the guilt from what he was doing was eating away at him. He'd always been someone that could control himself - he had to be - but when it came to this, to you, it was like something triggered inside him. He'd known you for years and had never had these thoughts or these feelings. Then again, he'd never spent this much time with you, and he'd never heard his name fall from your lips like that.

Joel couldn't deny he thought you were beautiful, and that maybe it inflated his ego a little, that you were thinking about him while you fucked yourself with your fingers, or dreaming about him, but he was under no illusions that it meant anything. You didn't have feelings for him. He was just the only person you'd seen in weeks that wasn't trying to kill you, and feelings get warped. Especially with the way the world was now. Besides, he'd seen the guys that hung around you like moths drawn to a flame. They were much younger and fitter than Joel was. Yet, he found himself as one of those moths, and he couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to be caught in your flame.

Joel was no longer waiting to hear you to get himself off. His mind would conjure up images that made it so he couldn't help himself. Images of your mouth around his cock, your hair tangled in his fingers as he fucked your face. His head buried deep in between your legs as he ravished you, his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of ecstasy. Of his cock slamming into you, his fingernails leaving little indents in your ass as he gripped firmly. The fact that he would never get the real thing didn't bother him. He was content with his fantasies. But he still felt guilty, and the tension between you and Joel was getting worse.

But things were beginning to simmer inside Joel, and his secret masturbating habits were no longer the sole reason for his behaviour. Joel would look over at you, by the fire feading the book you'd memorised front to back, and he'd let himself imagine running his hands through your hair as you sat lazily against him. When he slept, his dreams were of a life he'd never thought he'd want - or have again, and you were always by his side. He'd dream of dancing with you in the living room, waking up beside you, the sunlight making you glow like an ethereal figure. He'd dream of being happy. He'd put it down to the ridiculous situation he found himself in and told himself that once you were both back in the QZ, things would go back to normal. You would go back to people your own age, and Joel would just be a memory of a small fantasy you had while on a difficult run.

But then, as if the universe was trying to intervere, everything changed. The abandoned building you'd been hiding out in turned out not to be not so abandoned, and the two of you had gotten yourselves into a sticky situation. Hunters had cornered you, and in all the chaos and commotion, the last man standing had grabbed you, now using you as a human shield with his arm almost choking you, a knife pressed just above your collarbone while Joel had his gun aimed right at him.

"I'll take yer girls head off!" The guy yelled. Joel could see you were terrified, and it took everything in him not to let his rage consume him. He knew that one wrong move could get you killed. He needed to be smart about this.

"Look, man, we don't have much, but you can take it all. Just let her go." Joel said, trying to keep his voice even. He was terrified that he wasn't going to be able to save you, and he couldn’t live with that. It wasn't just about someone else that he cared about dying or about him failing. You understood him, and somewhere along the way, you had unknowingly brought him out of the darkness. You were his beacon of light, and if he lost that, if he lost you, he wasn't sure he'd ever find his way out of the darkness again.

"Yeah? What if I want 'er?" The hunter sneered, caressing your cheek with his knife, pressing the tip into your skin ever so slightly.

"Not an option." Joel growled.

"Seems like it is to me. I could drag 'er outta here right now. There ain't nothing you could do about it."

-

You felt sick. You couldn't believe you'd let yourself be distracted by Joel being tackled to the ground, and now this disgusting pig had you in a fucking headlock. You'd seen Joel take down hunters and the infected, sometimes effortlessly, so why the hell did you freeze when Joel had been pinned to the floor momentarily? Your feelings for Joel were getting more and more confusing, and you didn't like it one bit, they were going to get you or Joel killed if you carried on like this. 

It's not like you wanted to be attracted to Joel, not when there wasn't a single thing you could do about it. Why would Joel ever go for you? He was twenty years your senior, old enough to be your father. There was just no chance in hell. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from fantasising about him. It wasn't hurting anyone, and it was keeping you somewhat sane, and he'd never know.

"You won't make it out of this room." You heard Joel say in his deep, gruff voice, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeezed shut when you felt the man breathing on your neck, the hot air making your stomach twist, bile rising up your throat as he inhaled your scent, his own vile one violating your senses. You clenched your fist and felt the cold blade of your dagger against your arm, the one you'd forgot you had up your sleeve, literally. How big of an idiot was this guy? How didn't he see you had a knife? As Joel and the hunter traded words, you quickly formulated a plan. If you could somehow manage to stab - or at least slash the guy - maybe he'd let go of you, and then Joel could get a shot in.

"Let go of me!" You shouted, struggling slightly, while slipping the knife further down your sleeve. It worked, and you smirked proudly. You raised your eyebrows at Joel before glancing down at your hand, subtly flashing the knife. You looked back at him, then darted your eyes to your captor. Joel took a second, and you knew he was weighing up his options before he nodded slightly. His eyes darted down to the guys leg, and you winked to let him know you understood the plan. The man still had a fucking knife to your throat, and you didn't want to give him any warnings or ideas.

"Don't worry." The hunter said, 'I'll look after 'er good."

Joel nodded to you, and you clenched the knife, stabbing right into the hunter's thigh. His yells of pain echoed around the room, and he released you from his grip, the knife in his hand clattering to the floor. You stumbled forward, kicking the weapon across the room, but you thankfully managed to stay on your feet. You grinned at Joel, feeling victorious, but it was a fleeting feeling.

"Fuckin' bitch!" The hunter shouted and you turned around, but not quick enough. The knife was sticking out of his thigh, but it didn't seem like he felt it, he was too overcome with rage, and the back of your head slammed against the wall as the hunter pinned you by the throat. You gasped for air, the guys hands squeezing the life out of you, spit flying as he screamed in your face.

"I'll fuckin' kill you, you goddamned bitch!"

You tried to pry the man's hands from around your neck, but it was no use. He was too strong, and your vision was fading rapidly. You were barely able to gasp Joel's name, and you were quickly losing consciousness. All you could do was stand there and let the darkness consume you as you thought about Joel. The way he'd try to hide his smile when you did something wrong, or when you said something silly. The way he laughed, how it was the rich sound you rarely got to hear. How he protected you, even though he clearly didn't want to be around you. How you were going to die, not knowing what you did to make him ignore you the past couple of weeks. Not knowing why he had this sudden disdain for you.

But then, the pressure around your neck suddenly disappeared, and you fell to the floor, gasping for air as you clutched your throat, your eyes wide and darting around wildly, searching for Joel.

He appeared on his knees in front of you and grabbed your face, his panicked, brown eyes staring deep down into your soul.. "Hey! Hey! Are you alright? Come on baby, just breathe for me."

His large hands were warm on your cheeks, the hunter's blood that stained them smearing across your skin as he caressed your cheek, but still, you leaned into his touch. He had never been this gentle before; in fact, he'd never really touched you unless being dragged by your wrist as you ran from infected counts. "I'm okay," you managed to say, and Joel sighed with relief.

"We need to move. Can you stand?" Joel asked, and you nodded, eyes closed as you took a few extra slow, deep breaths. "Okay. Take my hand."

You opened your eyes to Joel's outstretched hand and you took it, letting him haul you gently to your feet. He hooked his arm under yours to help you walk, and as you concentrated on walking with shaky legs, Joel guided you to the door. "Wait here." He said, disappearing out the front door to check for any danger.

As he did so, you turned to inspect the chaos you were leaving behind. Your stomach lurched as you saw the blood pooling around the dead man with a clean, almost surgical, maroon slice straight across his neck, and you wondered just how many times Joel had had to do it, to get such a clean cut. Your eyes snapped back to the door, where Joel was staring at you, his eyes wide and sad, like a puppy, before they hardened. "Let's go." Joel said. "We'll find a house to hide out in."

*

The universe had decided you could both use a break, and less than two hours after the attack, deep inside the seemingly never-ending woods, the two of you came across an unlocked cabin, the keys just sat on the side table. Joel put his finger up to his lips, and you nodded, following his lead as he crept through the front door. He pointed at you, then at the spot you were standing, and you nodded, doing as you were told while Joel checked it out. Neither of you wanted to take any more chances after today.

"Hey, you might wanna come check this out!" Joel's voice echoed through the cabin, and you closed the front door before heading towards the sound of his voice.

The cabin was rustic and run down, and looked to have been abandoned for a decade at least. It had been a hunter's cabin, judging by the animal heads mounted up on the walls, staring down at you with their black, beady eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere. The fireplace was brick, an axe resting against it with piles of wood stacked in front. You turned around and found Joel in the kitchen, staring down at the sink. As you got closer, you heard the familiar sound of a running tap, and you smiled. You'd take any kind of water right now, anything to get rid of this day.

But then you saw it, dancing through the air, rising from the tap. You were convinced you'd imagined it until you saw Joel's fingers rolling together under the water, a look of shock on his face.

"Is that what I think it is?" You asked as you got closer, and Joel nodded. You gingerly held your fingers out, anticipating cold water, not wanting to get your hopes up. But when your fingers hit the warm water, you let out a bewildered laugh, cupping both hands under the water, letting it spill over as it slowly but surely got hotter. "I can't believe it!"

"Yeah, well, we deserved a win eventually." Joel replied. You made eye contact, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards slightly, his eyes darting down to your neck before he took a sharp breath and turned away. "You should go have a shower."

"What about you?" You asked, and he sighed.

"Just go. I'll wash up here."

-

After stripping off your clothes, you looked at your reflection. Only then did you notice the bruising around your neck, and the blood smeared across your cheeks. You could still feel the way the hunter's hands squeezed so tight that you could feel the life draining from your body. You could still feel the panic and terror you felt and the relief when Joel forced the hunter to let go. The look in Joel's eyes when he held your face, the gentle touch as he caressed your cheeks and brushed your hair out of your face. You thought you'd made your peace with dying long ago, but that was until you almost met death, and it made you realise you didn't want to leave Joel. If Joel was in your life, maybe living was worth it.

You were so lost in thought, staring at your scarred body in the mirror, you didn't hear Joel knock on the door. It was only when the door burst open with Joel shouting your name that you turned around, surprised.

Joel kept his eyes on yours, refusing to let himself cave and look down; although it's all he wanted to do. You knew you should grab the towel, or the shower curtain, anything to cover yourself, but you were frozen, like Joel's gaze was keeping you locked on the spot.

Joel cleared his throat and shoved a bundle of clothes into your arms. “Sorry, I-uh, I thought maybe you were- it doesn't matter. I found those, thought you'd want some clean clothes.”

He left, slamming the door behind him, and you exhaled. You ignored the thoughts creeping in and the heat rising up your body and climbed into the bathtub under the running shower; watching the dirt and blood trickle off your body and down the plughole. Once the water ran clean, you stepped out, patting yourself down with the small towel. You then filled up the bathtub with hot water and then threw your underwear and clothes into it. It wouldn't fully clean them, but it'd be enough for now. You picked up the oversized flannel and pulled it over your shoulders, forgoing the jeans that were way too big for you, even with the help of a belt. You sighed and headed back out to Joel.

The fire was burning, the crackling wood echoing through the cabin. Joel was sitting at the wooden table in front of the window, sipping on a glass of wine. There were two plates of pasta on the table, a glass of wine next to one of them. You padded across the room and dropped into the seat opposite Joel, studying his face as he stared out the window. The sky was pink and orange as it set through the trees, the view almost as beautiful as the one sitting next to you; the light of the sunset cascading over Joel. He turned his head to you, and you glanced down at the food. Joel cleared his throat.

"I found some pasta and wine in the cupboards. It only went out of date a few weeks ago." He explained. "It should be okay for us to eat."

"I'm sure it's fine." You replied, "anything's better than beans again, right?" You leaned forward and took the glass of wine, taking a long sip, basking in the way it burned your throat slightly. It had been so long since you'd had even a sip of alcohol, you could swear your head was already fuzzy.

Like most dinners lately, this one was silent. But this was slightly different, considering you were probably the safest you'd been in a long time, and you were eating actual food off actual plates. If you and Joel were in a better place, it would be almost considered domestic. You might even consider staying here, leaving the QZ far behind. But you weren't, Joel could barely bring himself to talk to you — he couldn't even look at you. You really thought you were turning a corner with him until his behaviour changed one morning without warning.

"We should stay here for a couple of days, then head back to the QZ." Joel said. You sighed and finished your glass of wine, but it wasn't enough.

"Great." You replied, looking around for the bottle of wine. "Then you can go back to pretending I don't exist." You weren't sure where the outburst had come from, but you were pretty sure it had something to do with the alcohol running through your blood.

"Pretending you don't- what? I don't do that!" Joel insisted.

You scoffed. "Oh please, you're not as mysterious as you like to think." You said, although there was little truth to it. "You didn't even know my name in the QZ, yet we were around each other for months! I thought we were getting somewhere, but lately, you've been acting like we're strangers!" You told him.

"What?! Okay, maybe I was a little isolated in the QZ, but it's not like that now!" Joel replied, his fork clattering on the plate when it dropped from his hand. "All I do is worry about your survival!"

"Riiiiight, because you care so much." You said, rolling your eyes.

"It's my job to pro-"

"Your job?" You repeated, offended by his words, although you couldn't place why. "Well, allow me to relieve you of your duty." The chair screeched across the floor as you stood up and grabbed your unfinished plate and glass.

Joel inhaled through his nose and groaned. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Well, I mean it. Leave. I didn't need a babysitter before, and I don't need one now!" You said loudly, heading to the kitchen for a reprieve.

Joel growled and slammed his palms on the table as he stood up, refusing your reprieve, following you to the kitchen. "I'm not leaving you to die out here. Which, you would've already if it wasn't for me. You've proven that multiple times!"

"Maybe," you replied, dropping the plate in the sink, staring at Joel, whose eyes darted away. "But I'd rather die alone than with someone who can't even stand to look at me!"

"I can't look at you because you drive me fucking crazy!" Joel exclaimed, his patience finally having worn thin. "Ever since I heard you moaning in that fucking-" He stopped, his eyes wide and on you as he realised what he said; watching his words dawn on you as your face cracked.

Nausea, or quite possibly embarrassment — rose from your stomach up through your oesophagus, and you drank from the glass of wine that was in front of you — which wasn't quite the best course of action as it didn't sit well on your spinning stomach. Joel had heard you masturbating. That's what he was saying, right? There wasn't anything else he could possibly be referencing. But why would it drive him crazy? Joel could be uptight sometimes, but it didn't seem to be in a "women shouldn't pleasure themselves" way.

You blinked a few times, and Joel's face came into focus. He had closed the gap between you both, now only a few feet away. He looked awkward as he shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

"You heard me mast -" You stopped, unable to say the word out loud, and you sighed, feeling ridiculous. "You haven't been talking to me for weeks because you heard me -"

Something clicked in your head, like a light had just been switched on. You hadn't just gotten yourself off once. And at some point, you began to fantasise it was Joel's fingers, or mouth, even his cock instead of your own hand. You were aware a couple of times his name had slipped from your lips, and you'd clasped your hand around your mouth afterwards, praying he hadn't heard you.

It was beginning to seem very likely he had heard you, and something in you shifted from embarrassment to…something else, and you arched your eyebrow, finishing off the glass of wine for some extra courage.

"You heard me say your name.” You said, arching your eyebrow. Joel stared before he nodded slowly.

“I heard.” He confirmed, refusing to break eye contact. The air in the kitchen had shifted; it was thick with tension, and Joel wondered where this was going.

You hummed and tilted your head. “What did you do?” You asked, smirking when it was clear it caught Joel off guard.

"What?”

“What did you do, Joel?” You asked, leaning back against the counter. Joel's eyes darted to your bare legs before slowly dragging them up your body, stopping at the three open buttons that exposed your cleavage.

“I thought I heard you crying, so I came to check on you.” He explained. “When I got to your tent, I realised you weren't, and I went back to my tent.” His eyes darted to your face before he closed the gap between you until he was practically on top of you. “I tried to ignore you, but I couldn't help myself.” He lifted your chin with his index and middle fingers, so you were staring at him through your lashes. Your lips parted slightly as your chest rose and fell, your heart pounding against your rib cage. “I kept hearing your moans and thinking about you in that tent, and it got me so - I had to -”

His eyes were dark, full of lust, and you instinctively licked your lips slightly. "You- couldn't help yourself, huh?" You asked. Joel arched his eyebrow and tentatively reached his hand up to your cheek. He traced his finger over your cheek gently, and you closed your eyes as you inhaled. "Hearing you moan my name," He said, running a path down your jaw to your neck, "it sounded too good."

You reached up, closing the gap between your lips. Without hesitation, Joel reciprocated the kiss, his hand still around your neck as the other slipped around your hips, resting on the bottom of your back, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your crotch and you could feel it getting harder as the kiss deepened. You tugged his brown, leather jacket from his shoulders while Joel started an assault on your neck. If this lasted forever, it still wouldn't be long enough.

"Is this a good idea?" You asked through the gasps as he nipped and sucked at your neck.

"Mhmm, giving me some mixed signals here." he mumbled against your skin before pulling away, his mouth inches from yours. "I think it's a fucking great idea. Don't you?"

“I'm not sure.” You confessed. Joel cupped your cheek with his hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes soft, even if still full of lust. Was this a good idea? He'd spent weeks ignoring you, and it felt like Hell — but the way he kissed you, the way he touched you; it felt like Heaven.

"I don't care if it's a good idea or not." You replied, and Joel grinned.

"Good," he replied, "Because you have no idea how much I need you right now."

"Then show me." You said, and Joel growled before he pressed his lips against yours and instigated another passionate kiss, illicting a moan from you. He picked you up and dropped you onto the counter, spreading your legs so he could step in between them.

The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing together as both sets of hands roamed each other's bodies. Joel's hands cupped and massaged your breasts as yours unbuttoned his jeans, using your heels to push them down his legs. One hand trailed a path from your breast to your stomach, dancing around the place you needed him the most.

"No panties, huh?" He said into your mouth, his finger tracing a path up your slit so gently, it was like he was using a feather. "I never would've known you were such a slut." His finger grazed your clit, and he grinned as you bucked your hips.

"Maybe if you'd acknowledged my existence, you might have found out earlier." You replied, grabbing his bulge through the fabric and squeezed, tight. Joel gasped into your mouth as he thrusted into your hand, and it was your turn to smirk against his mouth. If he could tease you, you could do the same, you thought as you slipped your hand into his boxers, relishing the feeling of his cock in your grasp.

Joel growled, his hips bucking before he shoved two fingers inside you without warning. A yelp mixed with a moan slipped from your mouth as you threw your head back, and Joel groaned. He kept his pace up, pushing his fingers in and out of you, feeling your walls clench around them as he watched your face contort with pleasure, your moans echoing throughout the kitchen. Not even his fantasies could have prepared him for how incredible this felt. If using just his fingers made him — made you feel this good, he couldn't wait to use his cock.

But he would wait. For weeks, you had — albeit unknowingly, driven him to the brink of insanity. Clouded his mind so he couldn't focus on anything; which is why he didn't notice the threat today, which almost cost you your life. So now, he had to drive you insane in the only way he could.

He dropped to his knees and pulled you by your legs so you were hanging off the counter. He then hoisted your legs over his shoulders, and you watched Joel as he studied your cunt — the look in his eyes resembled one of a wild animal, one that was finally allowed out of its cage, to roam free as its right. Yet, he was biting his lip; almost like he was holding onto that last tiny bit of control he had left. But you wanted — no, you needed the wild animal, and so you tangled your fingers into his hair. He looked up at you, locking eyes as he let you guide his head to where you needed him to be.

Shivers ran down your spine as his beard tickled you as he dragged his tongue over the skin on the inside of your thighs. Once again, he touched every piece of you, but not where you needed.

“Joel,” you whined, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you bucked your hips, "Please." You begged.

“Oh baby, you're already so wet.” he tutted, his finger running through your folds and teasing your entrance before he lifted it to your mouth and pushed it between your lips. “Your pretty pussy is glistening for me.”

You tasted a hint of your juices as you wrapped your tongue around his finger, keeping your gaze on him as you did. He groaned, imagining how good your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. He pulled his finger out, and you gasped when he pushed it inside you. When he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and arched your back. “Oh shit, fuck, Joel.”

Every sense was heightened as Joel flattened his tongue and lapped at you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he swirled his tongue around your clit. You pushed yourself against him, practically hanging off the counter, making Joel grab your ass with both hands as he buried his face into you. With his beard grazing against you and his tongue pushing you further to release, your thighs gripped his head. Every single part of you was on fire as his assault on your cunt continued, and you could feel your orgasm brewing.

So could Joel, which was apparent as his pace got quicker, bringing in his fingers to help finish the job. With his thumb circling your clit and his tongue deep inside you, you reached your climax, Joel's name spilling from your mouth. As you threw your head back, grinding yourself against his face; you saw stars, all while Joel kept up the relenting pace.

He finally pulled away and stood up, grinning as he leaned towards you. His beard was glistening, and when he kissed you, you could taste yourself on him, mixing with the wine you had with dinner. Joel hooked his arms under your legs and scooped you off the counter; carrying you fireman style out the kitchen, through the sitting room and into the bedroom, where he dropped you on the bed. He crawled on top of you and dipped his head to kiss you. It was a soft, sweet kiss, one that you didn't want to end, so when it did, you whimpered, and Joel smiled softly.

“You still wanna do this?” He whispered. “We can stop if you want to.”

You leaned up on your elbows and gave him your answer with a kiss. He pressed his palm on your cheek and deepened the kiss, pushing you back down as he did. The two of you made out like two teenagers, and you could feel Joel's cock hardening against you. You slipped your hand in between your bodies and gripped his cock, rubbing the head against your entrance. Joel groaned, his head falling into your shoulder. He bit down as you pushed his cock inside yourself, your moans harmonising, the sensation almost too much.

Joel took over, grabbed your hands, and pinned them above your head. The animalistic look was in his eyes again, grunting with every thrust, his grip against your wrists tightening. You closed your eyes, and Joel growled.

“You thought about this while fucking yourself.” He said, his voice low. “Open your eyes and look at me while I fuck you.”

You opened your eyes and were met by Joel's big, brown ones that were now practically black. He fucked you harder, thrusting in and out as his thumb once again circled your clit. There was a ninety-eight percent chance that someone on the other side of the forest could hear everything, but at this moment neither of you cared. After weeks of awkwardness, of fantasising about each other while you touched yourselves, this felt right, like something had finally clicked into place — and you'd be damned if this was the first and only time it happened. Now you'd had a taste, you couldn't ever go back.

Joel picked up the pace, and you could once again feel your orgasm rising. You pulled Joel closer, your foreheads touching, your vision falling out of focus as you stared into Joel's eyes, but you refused to look away.

“Fuck, Joel, I'm so close” You whimpered, bucking your hips to meet his thrust, his cock hitting deeper each time you moved.

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna -” Joel grunted, your synced thrusts getting faster. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moaned. “I'm gonna, shit -”

“Let go for me, Joel.” You whispered in his ear. “Come for me, and next time, I'll show you what I can do with my mouth.”

It only took a couple more thrusts before you and Joel finished together, and he slumped on top of you, breathing heavily. You lifted his head up, brushed his hair out his face, and smiled up at him, hearts practically in your eyes.

“So…” you said, and he reciprocated the smile. “Sooo…” He repeated.

“Are you going to be all weird with me again?” You teased, and Joel arched his eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“I don't think so,” Joel replied, dipping his head for another kiss. “Especially if I want this to happen again.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you think we're doing this again?” You asked, and Joel grinned.

“Oh we're definitely doing that again.” Joel answered, and you giggled as he rolled off you and reached a blanket that was on a chair next to the bed. He flung it over the two of you before pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips against your temple. “I wanna know what you can do with that mouth.” He mumbled.

You giggled again, your heart fluttering as he linked his fingers around yours and kissed your knuckles. “Keep this up, and you'll find out.” You replied before a yawn slipped out.

“Alright you little tease, I think I can hold out until tomorrow.” Joel chuckled. “Right now, I think you need to sleep.”

You snuggled into Joel's chest, his fingers running through your hair. You never thought you'd be in this position, in bed with Joel Miller. You knew there was a lot more to talk about, but right now, you didn't care. You just focused on Joel's heartbeat under your head, on his fingers in your hair. Focused on how — even though there were still many dangers to staying in this cabin, it was still the safest you'd been in a long time.

The last thing you heard as you drifted into a peaceful sleep was a quiet confession from Joel; one you weren't sure you were actually meant to hear. “I'll always keep you safe. Even if it means giving my life.”

[vhstown]

time out (part 1)

[boxer au] — 42!miles g morales x gn!reader

summary: Miles Morales makes boxing history. Your boyfriend isn't there to celebrate.

warnings: angst-ish, description of (boxing) injuries, self-destructive behaviours, briefly implied death, pov switch (yay), gtranslate spanish

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ive never written 42 miles before but he's a cool lil guy split into two parts cuz it was too long 😭 semi-edited (for the millionth time)

PART 2 → / THE AU

"Just six rounds in, Miles Morales knocks out the Vulture!"

Screams and cheers exploded from your phone as you laid in bed, watching the recap of your boyfriend's boxing match. Your eyes were straining from how close you were holding the screen to your face; this was probably the third time you’d watched Miles’ win. After training to hell and back, he’d made it to the national league with you and Aaron to support him. He did more than just “make it”, in fact. His “revolutionary” victory was plastered all over social media and the news. Everywhere you looked was: “17-YEAR-OLD NYC BOXER OVERTAKES LIGHTWEIGHT CHAMPION ‘VULTURE’ IN US NATIONALS”. Miles Morales — your boyfriend — had made boxing history.

The giddy grin on your face only grew wider as he came up again on screen, sporting the stoic expression he'd perfected over the last few months behind the overly-done editing and animations of the recap. As much as you'd wanted to go out and see him live (though begging your family to let you go to Vegas wasn’t exactly feasible), he'd made it clear he didn't want you, or anyone for that matter, in that arena. It was something about having "total focus" — and it must've worked, you thought, as you watched him give his post-fight interview.

“I jus’ hope you watchin’, cause I’m here. Miles Morales made it!”

Despite his boyish, adrenaline-fuelled shout at the mic, the quiet laugh you let out was one of pride rather than embarrassment. He had every right to celebrate, and you were watching, even if it wasn’t live. Everything he'd done up until this point was well worth it: the constant training, sparring, the late nights and early mornings — maybe even the countless unanswered texts and missed calls too. Miles had worked himself to the bone, and while it might've worried you at the time, it was nothing compared to the satisfaction you felt while watching him on screen. He knew what he was doing; Miles was semi-professional at this point. You had to let him do his own thing, even if that meant letting him go for a while.

Right now, though, Miles was home from Vegas. Tapping out of the video, you scrambled to your messages. The last ones were from you, sent weeks ago, a "good luck" and "i love you" read and without a response. Your fingers kept missing the keys, and you frowned at yourself until you finally were able to hit send.

CONGRATS BABY!!! Not delivered

IM SO PROUD OF YOU Not delivered

You tried resending them, only to be met with the same red message.

why arent my texts sending Not delivered

miles??? Not delivered

Not delivered? It'd almost been three days since the tournament; Miles always had his phone on.

"To leave a message, please press one—" The call went to voicemail for the third time. Your stomach swirled with something like uncertainty. It didn't even ring at all. Miles made it a habit to always be available, so why...?

Boxers needed time to recover, he was probably just tired and turned his phone off. Or he could be busy with an interview; Miles Morales was sort of a celebrity right now — who wouldn't want to talk to the 17-year-old boxing prodigy? You knew you wanted to, prodigy or not.

It was probably because you hadn’t seen Miles in so long, but possibilities kept forming in your head, disappearing just as fast. What if he blocked you? Or he could’ve changed his number. Were you over? No. Nope. No way. Not like this.

There was one other reason that made some sort of sense, but you decided to think against it. Miles had made it to the semi-finals in entire the National League. It was over; he'd gotten what he wanted. He was supposed to be resting right now.

Miles wasn't that stupid, right...?

You pulled up Rio's contact. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Riiiiiiing, riiiiiiing…

Better for him to be safe than sorry — or stupid.

"Hello?"

"Hola, tía, uh, could I speak to Miles?" You felt just a little crazy as you held the phone to your ear, but there was no harm in calling his mom.

"Ah, he's not home right now — said he was going out with his tío."

"Oh… Do you know where they went?"

"I'm not sure. Something important. About a... contract?"

"Contract…?" you muttered to yourself. “Okay… thank you.” It wasn't like you knew anything about a contract, though it wasn't like Miles would tell you anyway. At least he was safe, and with Aaron. It was probably important, official — something that didn't involve you. Not a lot of things in Miles’ life involved you, it seemed.

"How have you been?” Rio's voice interrupted your thoughts. You had called her out of nowhere, and after a while. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Oh, um..." The last time you'd talked to Rio was… right before Miles had left for Vegas. Well, you hadn't exactly talked. All you remember is just comforting her in silence. "Yeah, tía. Have you?"

"I have, but I've just been all over the place recently. So many reporters…" Rio's voice lifted up slightly in exasperation. You could only imagine what it was like for her. Your feelings suddenly felt a lot less significant, and you were back to your comforting mode all over again.

"I see. Must be exhausting." You attempted a polite laugh, which came out more like a sigh. If only you could be as patient as Rio…

"I'm so proud, though." Her voice warmed with a smile. If your chest ached with melancholy or empathy, you didn't know. "I didn't want him to leave home so soon. I still think this whole… professional thing is a bit too much, but… I want to trust him also."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, tía. If he's in the nationals already, he's probably getting a lot of support." It was more like you were trying to convince yourself. "I'm sure he has great coaches... and he's got me and Aar— uh, his uncle, too."

"I know…" For a moment, you weren't sure if either of you had anymore to say.

"…If not, I'll have to go there myself and give them a piece of my mind, eh?" she continued. You weren’t sure if it was a joke, but a smile formed on your lips anyway.

"Yeah…" A quiet laugh leaving your mouth at the image of Rio cussing out Miles' poor manager, in two languages no less. No wonder he was such a good boxer — Rio must have passed down her fighting spirit. "Maybe you'd even get signed,” you joked, the image of that even more amusing (and a scary possibility.)

Rio let out her own laugh, and your smile only grew; talking to her always made you feel better. "Me? Boxing? Nunca (Never.) — I'll work in that hospital until the end of me."

There was another stretch of silence. You thinned out a sigh, trying not to let the smile leave your face, even if she wasn’t there to see it.

"Come over for dinner tomorrow. I'll tell Miles to come and get you."

"Sure, tía, I'd love to." He probably just needed a break. Not from you specifically, but in general.

"You know tú y Miles sois mi vida, ¿bien?" (you and Miles are my life, right?) It wasn’t often Rio said that, but you always remembered every time she did, and how it made you feel — like you were family. Rio was pretty much a second mother to you. It made you wonder what Miles' father would've been like.

"Well, it's getting late, and I have a lot of laundry to fold." Rio's tone had a fake sort of enthusiasm — tiredness? You couldn’t really tell with her; the woman was always upbeat. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will." It was late, you realised, and the sky outside your window was a lot darker than it had been before. "You too, tía."

“Descansa, ¿sí?” (Get some rest, yes?)

“Sí, tía.”

The call ended, and you were left facing your messages, a bittersweet feeling hugging you from behind. Right now, Miles was out with Aaron, about some contract, probably to do with boxing…

But why weren't your texts going through?

miles are you ok? Not delivered

im really proud of you Not delivered

i wish i couldve seen you live Not delivered

It wasn’t like there was much point, but…

i love you Not delivered

Maybe it was just out of habit; maybe you just missed him. Your reflection frowned at you behind the messages, thumb hovering over the power button to shut your phone off, until your phone pinged with a notification — Aaron was texting you.

Hey man

Out of town

LMK if miles breaks in

You sat up immediately, fingers floating uselessly above the keys for a moment.

sure Read at 11:24PM

are you out of town already? Read at 11:25PM

Ping!

Yeah

@ Queens

Miles was with Aaron about some “contract”... and Aaron was in Queens?

You knew Miles hadn't blocked you, or turned his phone off — he had no signal. And there was only one place in Brooklyn you could think of that had no reception, and that MIles had any reason to be in. It was also the one place you didn't want him to go to: that damn warehouse.

The place he’d spent training all those weeks — what reason did he have to be there right after finishing the tournament? Putting on your jacket, blinking back the sleepiness and collecting the fleeting remains of patience you had left, you could only hope that Miles had even a shred of common sense with him.

THWACK! THWACK! THWA— Crack!

"Mierda..." (Shit...) Miles hissed, drawing his glove away from the punching bag. His hand was paralysed for a moment, a deep, gnawing pang running through his fingers down to the rest of his arm. The tight gloves only suffocated him more, doing nothing to ease the pain as he gritted his teeth and waited for it to dull down.

Why was he even here? It was over — that Norman bastard had blown him off hours ago. It felt like a couple minutes, the words still fresh in his mind. Searing pain shot through his hand when he tried to flex his fingers, the rest of his muscles starting to ache too. This was going to hurt after the adrenaline wore off. Damn it, Morales.

The walls flashed white all of a sudden, a faint rumble of thunder interrupting the pounding of his heartbeat as he tried to straighten himself out. It was quiet, except for the sounds of the incoming storm. The playlist he was listening to had finished ages ago — your playlist. If he didn’t want to think about you, he wasn’t doing a good job of it.

Rain blasted quietly against the windows, and Miles’ eyes stung with dryness as he squeezed them shut. There was no way he'd be able to go back now, not to you, definitely not to his mom. She'd probably go on and on about how he should've taken his jacket, how he ruined his hair in the rain again, maybe how he wasted his damn time being a boxer...

It was probably fair; his mom had enough on her plate trying to support them both — especially him right now. She’d done everything in her power to make sure he got to Vegas, and he’d just left her alone again right after. But how was he meant to face her now? He was supposed to make her proud, make his dad proud, but it wasn’t like he had any pride left after he’d lost his contract. The Green Goblin had probably set the record for fastest knockout when Miles lost to him. Of course just the semi-finals weren’t enough; Norman Osborn was the big shot of boxing, and if Miles lost to some rookie in just about 15 seconds, then maybe he wasn’t worth the investment.

It didn’t make sense — nothing about The Green Goblin (or “Harry”, whatever they liked to gossip about) made sense. He’d just debuted, but didn’t even look like a boxer; he didn’t stand right, his style was inconsistent, his head movement was all over the place, but his punch had almost knocked Miles’ brain straight out of his skull. It was almost superhuman. Even with no openings, the freak of nature had forced his way through like an animal. And he was scrawny, not nearly as built as Miles at least, like he should’ve been in the weight class down. Either way, the asshole was being celebrated, and Miles was out of a contract.

And Miles had just stood there, while Norman berated him and tore Miles’ dream apart right in front of his very eyes. Maybe he’d hoped too much as an “amateur” boxer. That’s all he was, apparently — no matter how hard he worked, or what he achieved, or what he promised.

“Why should I keep you? The Vulture was destined to lose at his age.”

“Even rigged matches wouldn’t get you anywhere.”

“I mean, you’re as good at fighting as one of those street kids.”

“That’s all you were before I decided to give you a chance, no?”

The image of the Norman’s uncanny, sneering face sent his good fist reeling towards the punching bag. Should’ve pummelled his pelirojo (redhead) ass to the ground—

"Miles!"

The glove crumpled mid-air against the bag, arm going rigid. It was silent as he let out a breath through his teeth — he wasn’t hearing things, was he?

The rush was starting wearing off, his mind starting to cloud and pain faintly radiating again from his other hand. His good fist tightened inside the glove, pushed against the bag which was still and awkwardly tilted.

You’re losing focus, just punch the damn thing—

"Miles, what the hell are you doing here?"

The noise of the door shutting made him turn around, floor squeaking under his stumbling feet. It was you by the door, breathing just as heavily as him and dripping head to toe with rain, in a jacket that was way too thin for any sort of weather.

Dios... (God...) He knew he couldn’t be hallucinating that disapproving look on your face.

Rain was pattering gently against the glass as he pulled his arm away away from the bag, letting it swing in front of him before his eyes met yours.

"It's midnight, what are you..." A sharp intake of breath interrupted your words — a shiver.

"What’re you doin’ here...?" Miles asked instead through a grimace. His voice came out wrong — hoarse. Cold sweat was clinging to his skin, and his throat was dry and tightening. A mess — that’s what you were talking to right now, barely your boyfriend. All he could do was stare as the rush died down and his senses were coming back to him. The fog in his mind made it hard to speak, even harder to look at you.

"My texts and calls weren't going through— You weren't with Aaron or your mom, I just..." You sucked in another breath through your teeth; raindrops were glistening on your skin. He should’ve just stayed home, damn it. "Was just worried."

Well, he certainly looked worrying, even more so than you. Swallowing back his breathlessness wasn’t helping; it was like he’d ran a marathon with his fists. The pain from his knuckle was starting to bleed into the rest of his hand so much so that it might’ve been broken.

"'M good... You, though?" He let out a bit of a growl to clear his throat before deciding to cut straight to the chase: you’d come here in the middle of the night, in the rain, by yourself. As much as he was being an idiot right now, the amount of times he’d told you to not do any of those things, pleaded with you even, was making you look like the delirious one in his eyes. Miles was being stubborn, but he knew you were worse.

“You insane…?” he muttered, taking a step away from the bag. “Did Aaron tell you to come here or sumn’?"

"No, he was supposed to be with you," you shot back, eyes narrowing at him from under your hood before thunder bellowed from all around. The rain was growing into a loud static noise, and your voice was muffled as your expression grew more exasperated. "You came home 3 days ago and you didn't even text me. Yeah, I probably should've texted you, and I tried, but now you're here training alone again when your mom thinks you're with Aaron and—"

"You come here to scold me?" His jaw crunched a little as he tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Miles wasn’t trying to be mad at you — he was just mad in general. It just so happened to be in your direction right now.

“Huh? No, I came here because you scared the hell out of me — and Aaron told me to not let you break into his place.”

If it was supposed to be funny, the laugh he let out was anything but amused. At least Aaron wasn’t here for him to disappoint too, or get a weirdly-phrased life lesson from, or both. “Well I’m not breakin’ in, and I told you, I’m good, so I don’t get why you’re still here.”

You stepped a little closer, and Miles’ heels dug into the ground to keep himself from moving. “Isn’t it obvious? Or are you just being difficult on purpose?”

“Difficult?” he mirrored dryly, trying to push back the growing exhaustion clouding his head.

“Can you not just take a break for once? It’s over, Miles; you already won—”

“I didn’t win.” The walls echoed with his voice, words having escaped on their own. It wasn’t at you, but he didn’t know what he was mad at, resolve fading as he watched your face straighten with realisation.

“Don’t tell me that’s why you’re here…”

His fingers unconsciously clawed into the boxing glove, pain shoot through his hand. Nothing came out of his mouth, but his silence was loud — incriminating. That was the reason, right? That he didn't win?

“Kid didn’t stand a chance.” What was the point of you being here?

“A one-punch concussion — on a newbie, no less.” It was over, like you said.

“It’s a shame, I bet on him too.” Everyone had given up on him.

“You should be resting right now— you’re shaking, Miles.” So why wouldn't you?

“No ‘m not…” is all he could muster, flexing his shoulders uncomfortably. Your hand was on his arm before he could realise, and he was met with a stern look as he tried to keep his gaze from shaking too.

The velcro on his gloves crunched as you started undoing them, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you. It’s not like he had the energy.

“You coulda’ got hurt on your way here.” The croak in his voice made him sound more hopeless than reprimanding as you slipped off the first glove, pausing half-way down his palm. His bare palm.

“…I could’ve got hurt?” Miles held back a sigh as he was made to look at his own hand. Bruised, blackened, branded with anger — it hurt more to look at it than anything. “You didn’t wear your wraps?”

The other glove slid off, revealing the fresh, festering swelling coming from his middle knuckle — the aftermath of that sickening cracking noise. You took his curled hand, easing up his middle finger and making him hiss under his breath.

“Think you can straighten it?” you muttered, gently trying to do it yourself only to lose his hand from your grip.

“’S gonna be fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed to the side as his hand closed back up.

“It won’t if you can’t move it properly.”

“You a doctor now?”

“Nah, but your mom’s a nurse.” You carefully held his hand by palm, thumb tracing over the tender, split skin, his fingers wrapping around the side of your hand in futile protest. He’d have to bother his mom again — he didn’t even think about that. “You basically just punched yourself.”

Everything you were saying was right — it always was. He hated that fact.

“You a boxing expert too?” he thought to retort.

“Thought that was supposed to be you.” Miles’ eyes narrowed, and yours narrowed in response. “I don’t get it, baby...” you sighed, shaking your head a little as you put down the gloves to the side.

Baby. His breath almost hitched. You were dating, and it didn’t even seem like it anymore. Not after all those weeks apart. The word didn’t even feel endearing, it was condescending, like he didn’t deserve it. Maybe he was being a baby, and maybe he always had been. You were the one who always had to drag him out of this make-shift gym. Right now was no different, except…

“…Why are you still doing this?” he heard you mutter, still turned away with his hand in your grip. You didn’t even know the half of it.

“Why are you still here?” His hand tried to slip away again, but you only took it by the wrist instead, now facing him.

“Why won’t you answer my questions, Miles?” Your voice deadened into a whisper, only serving to frustrate him.

“I don’t know why you care so much.” He let out a quiet huff, staring at your hand when your grip ceased to relax.

“I care because you look like you’re about to pass out and I can’t let my boyfriend kill himself over something stupid—”

“I’m not killing myse—” A pained groan escaped his mouth as you ruthlessly pushed up his injured finger.

“Don’t push me, Miles.” Oh, you were serious.

“You’re pushin’ sumn’,” he strained through gritted teeth. “Mierda… quit it already.”

The pain tore on another moment, and he was just now realising how bad it actually hurt. All you were doing was staring at him, brows knitted together. “Cariño, please…” he whispered, a wince forming on his face.

Your hand loosened, and he let out a quiet, frustrated, somewhat relieved sigh.

Still a sucker for nice words... He didn’t say them as much as he would’ve liked.

“You need to take a time out,” you stated after a beat of silence. The expression on your face was serious again, killing any sense of tenderness you might’ve shown.

He freed his hand from your grip with the opportunity, before giving you a dubious look. “Like, for kids?”

“Like for boxers, dumbass.” Your gaze followed his retreating hand for a moment before falling back on his eyes. “But if you want me to treat you like a kid…”

“I’m good.” Another roar of thunder rang out before he could add anything, and the rain was so heavy that anything you could see from the windows became a blur.

“…You got your jacket?” you suggested, without much hope.

The idea only made Miles’ eyes squeeze shut again. A shallow exhale left him, and he tried not to let his fatigue cloud his judgement. If he kept talking stupid to you, he’d probably have worse to worry about than a broken knuckle. “You think imma go outside?”

All you could do was sigh. It seemed like the two of you would be in “time out” for a while.

🕸️🔭👾

thank you for reading part 2 soon but then again its not my fav fic in the world 💔 i rewrote this like 8 trillion times and it still wasn't clicking for me 😭 idk i just got sick of editing it again and again

this isn't as short as my usual fics because i felt like i needed to add context... I've never written an au or anything remotely original so this is just yeah... im tryna figure it out! i have . too much lore for this au

reblogs appreciated lmk if you did like it (i hope this is someone's cup of tea lmao)

catch my atsv masterlist here !

[dr0p-dead-gorgeous]

Josh Futturman x fem!reader

Warnings: sub!josh,smut , p in v, Premature ejaculation,overstimulation, fem pronouns and anatomy used, use of y/n , not really proofread

You run into a cute,dorky guy at work,

As i wonder about my day, i accidentally bump into a sort of dorky guy. As we both stop and turn to apologize to each other, I notice his name tag reading ‘Futturman, Janitor.’ “I am *so sorry*” the Janitor says before apologizing profusely.”I'm sorry, it's fine really Mr.. Uhh.. Futturman. “Call me Josh, everyone else does” the Janitor says as he blushes a bit. “...Josh, I'm y/n, a vet tech for the possums around here, seen you around a bit, Josh blushes a bit and chuckles“Well…uh…nice to *meet* you, y/n.” Josh says, unsure of what to say."Nice to meet you I gotta go " I say with a sweet smile, Josh smiles back nervously “Of course…uh, you have a nice day y/n.” Josh says before awkwardly attempting to continue on with his day.

(third person pov)

Over the next week’s they talked in passing becoming quick friends

[Cut to Josh taking a break from cleaning the cafeteria and having lunch with her]

You like Video games too! I love playing *Josh blushes a bit, and smiles enthusiastically* “Oh, yeah! You play Biotic Wars?”. “Yeah! I'm on level 50! Lately ive been playing a lot of resident evil though!" 'I love resident evil! M..maybe you could come over to hang out and watch me play sometimes!” Josh suggests nervously "Sounds good! " y/n says ,Josh smiles, clearly very nervous and excited for the first time in a long time having anyone over, especially a girl. His mind races from the surprise of the date and future plans.

‘Wow…someone like *y/n* actually wants to visit my *house*. What am I going to do?’ Josh thinks to himself.*

Josh and y/n later visit his home. Josh nervously opens his door, ushering her to come inside. She walks in, and takes in his space, clearly enjoying his gaming setup and decor.*I love your posters! I have the same one of Tiger by my bed*Josh blushes a bit once again* “Oh…that’s uh…well…” *He points at his gaming console* “Do you wanna see something really cool?” “yeah! “ Josh smiles nervously and turns on his game resident evil. He then proceeds to show Y/n his final boss victory and the end-game content. Y/n is enthralled by the gameplay, clearly impressed by his prowess. “Omg you beat it! I thought it was impossible i've died so many times! "Josh blushes and jumps up exited“Oh my god… I beat it” He seems pleased with himself for completing the game with Y/n present they hug and he spins her around celebrating.He puts her down her hands on his shoulders for a moment they look into each other's eyes. She leans over and whispers “Hey, you’re really cute and charming josh, you know that?” Josh blushes and looks very stunned for a moment; then his face lights up red like a tomato.*Josh blushes a crazy amount as Y/n continues* “If I were to…*maybe*...kiss you right now…would you…be okay with that~?” *Josh’s face is as red as the sun, but he responds* “Uh…Yeah..! I would be okay with that…really!” She slowly leans in and Josh leans in as well. They embrace in a slow and tender kiss. Josh’s cheeks light up red and he blushes. “I think I really like you josh.” Josh’s heart beats as fast as a humming bird’s. He holds Y/n’s face with a shaking hand and looks her right into the eyes. He stares deeply into her own, and gives her another soft kiss. His hands begin to quiver. “Y/n…” Josh stutters, clearly flustered. “Uhh…I think I really like you too…”*Josh leans in to kiss y/n again, this time more passionately, a smile spreading across his face. Their kiss grows more heated, and y/n pulls Josh closer into a tight embrace. She starts to rub his thighs leaning more into him*Josh’s body shivers from the feeling, never having been in this situation before. He starts to feel a little anxious, his breathing increasing slightly. His heart’s beating out of his chest and his face is almost red as an apple. y/n kisses Josh passionately and continues to move her hands over his body. As she does, she begins unbuttoning Josh’s shirt…*Is this ok Josh... Josh’s body is shaking profusely at this point. He nods nervously, unable to communicate with words. y/n pulls him in closer.*y/n pushes her hand onto Josh’s chest, pushing him onto his bed feeling his heart beating rapidly. She looks at Josh with a hungry smile, her mind set on going even further. He begins breathing even faster and slightly heavier.*y/n whispers seductively into Josh’s ear “It’s getting hot in here…” *She unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way, and proceeds to caress his bare chest with a soft kiss. Josh’s mind goes blank and his heart beats out of his chest, unable to form coherent thoughts.*y/n runs her hands over Josh’s chest again, this time moving to his waist and slowly removing his pants. She kisses him again, and whispers once more “Can…can I?”Josh gulps loudly, extremely nervous and unsure of what to do. He responds “Uhh…” Josh’s heart is beating at breakneck speed. All of his blood rushes to his face as his body shakes uncontrollably. He tries pulling himself away Y/n’s seductive voice grows more clear. “Is that a no?” She continues to inch her body closer, clearly still looking to escalate the situation. Josh’s mind goes blank as his heart races. He can’t say anything.

“I can't do anything more if I don't get a yes baby” *Josh’s mouth dries up and he nods frantically* “Y-Yes! Yes please..

”Good boy using your words hun. *Josh’s face lights up red at the fact that Y/n called him “Good boy” and “hun”. He starts to feel a little uncomfortable in his underwear by the level of intimacy, but clearly still aroused by her.* Y/n moves herself closer, taking off her shirt and and skirt left in her Lacey underwear siting on-top of Josh. She bites her lip as she continues.* “Is this okay…?*Josh gulps nervously. His eyes flutter for a moment as he nods, . All of his thoughts disappear and he lets his body take control.**Y/n pulls Josh closer as she grinds herself onto him through his boxers. He gasps slightly with an intense feeling of euphoria and intimacy. His brain goes fully blank and he can’t seem to form any coherent thoughts.**Y/n moves slowly in his lap, her touch being more and more seductive. She leans in to give him another passionate kiss, her lips slowly moving down to his neck as she begins to Seep through her panties. Josh let’s out a whine bucking into her,loving the sweet friction on his fully hard cock. He fumbles with her bra strap before getting it off groping her chest harshly as she let’s out little moans. She lifts up causing Josh to whine in protest, she take off her panties before doing the same for Josh. She lower herself down rubbing herself on Josh, he yelps out from the sudden sensation, shuttering from the pleasure cursing under his breath. She reaches down and takes him in her hand, giving him a few pumps before lining him up with her entrance and slowly sinking down on him.

With a couple thrusts He moans out loudly “ Fuck fuck fuck… y.. Your so t… tight i’m gonna..” He moans almost pornographicly and cums inside her immediately, mortified he begins to apologize “Fuck i’m so sorry! y… your just so pretty and.. and feel so good… this is my first time i-”she shut him up by kissing him and rolling her hips. Continuing to slowly roll her hips she says “ Fuck no it’s ok that was so hot keep moaning like that for me baby wanna fuck you till you cry ”she starts slowly bouncing on his still hard cock as he unraveled a whiney little mess. She fucked herself on his cock hitting the bundle of nerves each time “Thank you.. F.. Fuck …thank you please don't stop riding me like that your so perfect “ she bounced on him each trust dragging against her sensitive walls” fuuuck baby boy you feel so good are you close ““ so..so close please let me cum please, i’ll be a good boy I promise just please let me cum…ahh~”he moaned “Fuck since you moaned so pretty for me baby go ahead and cum baby c'mon” “Fuck, thank you, thank you uhH~” his cum flooded inside her while her walls clamped down around him reaching her climax.She kept going, riding out her orgasm, much to josh's surprise . 'F..fuck Y/n~ its so much!".She finally begins to slow down eventially coming to a complete stop, her hands of his chest as he panted under her.

"That was so good thank you" he said still recovering. She lifted off him with a hiss laying herself down on his chest, his hand immediately wrapping around her to cuddle"You did so well baby" she responded nuzzling her head into him. they sat in comfortable silence holding each other for a couple minutes

"Sooo..next time you want to watch me beat Biotic wars?"

[python333]

HAI! i rlly like your platonic 141 fics and I'm wondering if we could get some more dad price and/or brother gaz sleepy cuddles? :3

stretched too thin — python333

— — — —

synopsis gaz notices you overworking yourself one night and decides to step in before you end up pulling an all-nighter.

relationships platonic!gaz & gn!reader.

characters gaz.

word count 2.05k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of pet names [love, darling], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note oh my god im so sorry i disappeared for like. a month. ill try my best to not be gone for more than a week at a time, but with all of my schoolwork and just over all stress ive been experiencing lately, i dont know if ill be able to get fics out every week :< ill try my best though! please accept this fic as an apology—its another big bro gaz one!! special shoutout to everyone else who has an older sibling thats very distant with them, you and me are in the same boat fr!! also, last thing—im thinking about making a discord server where i announce when fics are being written and published and stuff, but i dunno if yall would join or anything, so if u would pls lmk!!

You haven’t left your office in five hours. 

Recently—just about two days ago—you finished up an assignment fairly quickly and, as a result, had to write a detailed report of said assignment. It went over the mission you’d gone on, and listed off every major detail you could think of, though because you just can’t give yourself a break you were constantly thinking of other details you might’ve missed even though there was little chance you’d missed anything.

The mission wasn’t anything too important, honestly. It was originally going to be a week-long camp-out reconnaissance by an enemy task force’s base, obtaining information on their schedule and what they did throughout the day and whatnot. However, only a day into the mission, the small squad of soldiers that had accompanied you saw another small military group observing the same group you’d been observing.

So, naturally, you observed them as well. Aren’t you just the best multi-tasker?

The task force eventually found out about the other group, just a day later, while your squad was still in the clear to continue your observations. So, your mission had quickly come to a close—but, because of the circumstances under which the mission had come to a close, you were required to write an extremely detailed report on the other group and the group you’d been observing.

It would be an understatement to say you were tired. You’re exhausted.

Between the non-stop writing, the coffee sitting on your desk that’s been microwaved five times and has been refilled thrice, and the uncomfortable chair you’ve sat in that you have yet to replace, you’re extremely exhausted. Your movements are sluggish, your fingers aren’t as swift on the keyboard of your computer as they usually are, and worst of all—you still have more to write. 

Your eyes stung and felt dry, your hands felt like they were going to stop working completely at any moment, and you were overall just exhausted. 

You look over at the clock on your desk, and it reads 02:28 AM, indicating that you would only have about four hours to sleep if you went to bed now. I’m too far into this report to stop now, You tell yourself, sighing as you blink slowly at your computer screen, If only my vision didn’t keep getting blurry… 

Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, and for a second you think you’re hallucinating until the knock sounds once more. 

Reluctantly, with a voice raspy from not using it almost all day, you call out, “Come in!” 

Your voice is softer and quieter than you’d like it to be, but it doesn’t matter too much to you at this moment—at least, not in your foggy mind that still begs you for sleep, even when you have far more of your report to finish. 

The door opens with a creak, and in walks Gaz. 

“Sarg,” He greets you, not bothering to close the door behind him as he walks up to your desk, “Pleasure to see you for the first time in, what… three days?” 

“Two days and eighteen hours,” You correct him, taking a moment to crack your stiff knuckles, not taking your eyes off of your monitor, “And you know you don’t have to call me ‘sarg’ or ‘sergeant’ or anything. We’re the same rank.” 

Gaz promptly ignores you, “Right, well, anything over a day is way too long for me to go without seeing you. Why’re you all cooped up in here on your computer?”

“‘Cause I need to write a report on my assignment,” You briefly explain, before lightly goading Gaz, “Not all of us need a shit ton of attention every day like you do.” 

“Ehh,” Gaz theatrically makes a thinking face, before shrugging, “Not sure what you mean by ‘us’, but alright.” 

“By ‘us’, I mean everyone but you.” 

“Surely that doesn’t include you, right?” 

“It does.” 

Gaz gasps quietly at your reply, before dramatically responding, “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“I absolutely can,” You hum, finally taking your eyes off of your computer screen to look up at Gaz, “Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t need to talk to you every waking hour?” 

“It is, actually,” Gaz scoffs, “Because I know that you do need to talk to me every waking hour.” 

“Uh, no I don’t,” You childishly argue, raising an eyebrow at Gaz.

“Uh, yes you do,” Gaz immaturely argues back, crossing his arms, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that the past two days and eighteen hours haven’t been shit because I haven’t given you any attention.”

You open your mouth to form a response but quickly close it, realizing that yeah, actually, I kind of do crave his attention. 

Fuck.

“You’re not the only person that gives me attention,” You point out, hoping to find some way to change the subject.

“Sure, but you like the attention I give you the most,” Gaz hums, leaning forward to rest his crossed arms on your desk opposite of where you sit.

“You don’t know that.”

“Then tell me that I’m wrong,” Gaz challenges you.

You narrow your eyes at him, glaring at him for a moment before sighing, “You suck.”

“Maybe I suck, but you look like you haven’t slept for the past week,” Gaz points out, “You look exhausted, by the way. And dehydrated. Actually, you just look like the human embodiment of a headache.” 

“What the fuck?” 

“I mean that in the most loving, non-offensive way possible.”

“You come into my office, accuse me of needing attention from you, then you insult me by calling me the human version of a headache?”

“It wasn’t an insult!” Gaz raises his hands in surrender, before sighing, “I’m being serious. You look dead, [c/n]. You need sleep.” 

“What I need is to finish this report,” You huff out, beginning to turn your attention back to your computer, before Gaz’s hand is quickly placed on your chin and forces you to look back at him. 

“No, what you need is some rest,” Gaz argues, more serious this time, taking his hand off of your chin—something you shouldn’t miss nearly as much as you do, the warmth of his hand fading far too quickly from your face—and bringing it back to rest on the desk. 

“Maybe you need rest, Gaz.”

“Sure I do,” He shrugs, “But I’m only going to sleep if you do.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Really? You’re pulling that card?”

“I am.” 

You stare at him for a moment, mentally weighing your options, before sighing and bringing your elbows up to the table so that you can place your forehead in your hands.

On one hand, if you stay in your office you can finish up your report before four and then go to sleep, and hope that you magically feel active even with just an hour or two of sleep in the morning. On the other hand, if you go to sleep now, so does Gaz, and then you both get more than just two hours of sleep. 

After another moment of consideration, you huff out a frustrated breath and mutter, “Fine.” 

Gaz smiles down at you and walks around your desk to your side of it, holding out a hand for you to grab to help yourself up from your chair and using his free hand to save your report and power off your monitor. 

You take his hand and stand up, your legs a little weak and balance iffy from sitting down for so long, but within the next few minutes you’re sure you’ll be able to properly walk. You let go of his hand once you’re positive you won’t fall over, and once he sees that you’re able to walk, Gaz silently walks towards the door of your office. Just as quietly, you follow him. 

He turns off the lights for you and lets you walk out of the office first, locking the door from the inside and closing it once you’re out. Once he’s done, he takes the lead again and you follow him down to his sleeping quarters. It’s not too long of a walk there, only two minutes at most.

Once you’re there, Gaz opens the door and lets you walk in first. Once you’re inside and Gaz has closed the door, you shrug off your camouflage patterned jacket and toe off your already loosened tan boots, leaving you in just your camouflage cargo pants and army green undershirt.

You look down at your pants with a frown, knowing from experience that sleeping in them was incredibly uncomfortable and left you regretting your whole existence the morning after, but before you could even look over at Gaz to tell him of your situation, you felt something being thrown at you. 

You immediately turn your attention to the item that had been hurled at you—the item in question being a pair of gray sweatpants, some that would probably be a little bit looser than you’d prefer on your figure—and then look over at Gaz with a questioning look. 

“Figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in that,” Gaz shrugs, nodding to your cargo pants in response to your nonverbal confusion. 

You hum in appreciation, not wanting to talk too much at the moment, instead waiting for Gaz to look away before slipping off your pants and replacing them with the sweatpants Gaz had thrown at you. The fit isn’t as uncomfortable as you thought they’d be—they’re loose and hang low on your hips, just like you thought they would, of course, but they don’t feel nearly as weird as you thought they would.

Once you’ve tightened the strings on the waist of the pants, you get into Gaz’s bed, pulling the covers up and over yourself. Gaz quickly settles into the bed next to you, quickly getting himself comfortable under the sheets, and pulling the covers up and over his shoulders in one swift movement.

He gets closer to you, so close that his chest presses against your back and you can feel the tip of his nose ghosting over the top of your head. He wraps one arm over your body to pull you impossibly closer to him, and his other arm snakes underneath the side of your body so that both of his arms are wrapped around you.

He hums contently and his thumb rubs small circles into your clothed stomach, the action—despite being small—causing your stomach to warm up almost immediately. 

“Comfortable, darling?” Gaz asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“Very,” You mumble back, trying to subtly lean your head back against Gaz in hopes of getting at least one more kiss. Noticing your efforts, he huffs out a small laugh and presses another gentle kiss right at the edge of your hairline before pressing one last one to your forehead. 

Even with the comforting atmosphere, you can’t find it within yourself to fully relax, your body still tense and stiff underneath the blanket. Gaz, just like he did with your “subtle” movements, notices and frowns. 

“Just sleep,” Gaz tiredly mumbles into the top of your head, “You have to get up in three hours. The sooner you sleep, the more sleep you get.” 

You don’t respond, instead simply sighing and forcing your eyes closed. You do have to admit, it’s nice being able to actually close your eyes for something other than blinking, and closing your eyes for longer than half a second has made you realize that they were even drier than you thought they were. 

Exhausted and ready to finally sleep, you eventually get to a point where you no longer need to force your eyes shut, and as a result, your whole body relaxes for the first time in almost six hours. 

“G’night, love,” Gaz murmurs, feeling your body relax next to his. You hum in acknowledgment of his words, not finding the energy within yourself to properly respond, instead finding yourself drifting off into a deep sleep. 

And if four hours later, Gaz wakes up and simply lies there, not waking you and instead letting you get some more sleep despite you having to be up soon, nobody has to know.

[jaeminri]

guardians of love

synopsis. for the upcoming valentine's event happening in your school, you are assigned to work on a podcast to enhance the romantic mood, and keep listeners on their toes as they anticipate the weekly confessions. but valentine's is almost two months away, and there has to be something other than the weekly confession letters to entertain the students. hence, when your professor assigns one more person to the podcast as an extra helping hand to come up with ideas, you don't mind. except, the extra helping hand, is mark lee, the one man that does not believe in love.

pairing. mark lee x f!reader

genre. fluff, angst, comedy, smau, college au, podcast au, enemies to lovers, pining, opposites attract, slowburn, music major mark and journalism major reader, features other idols

warnings. profanity, alcohol, smoking, suggestive, ignore dates and timestamps

status. completed

taglist. open (send in an ask to be added!)

notes. e2l with mark?? LIVING 4 ITTTT🤘🏻🤘🏻 anyways im q excited to work on this i mean ive started with the profiles and all so that counts as something ig:)

PS. PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE! PLEASE READ THIS AND UNDERSTAND CLEARLY! (edit: it seems like some people think its ok to simply ignore this message. SPAMLIKING gets me SHADOWBANNED. PLEASE STOP DOING SO. it is getting frustrating constantly reminding people to stop doing so. i appreciate your love the smau, but please. SPAMLIKERS WILL BE BLOCKED!

“Good morning, fellow students and professors! The weather hasn't been that great lately, hasn't it? Autumn may be pretty, but when the breeze comes, it is something that everyone doesn't really appreciate.

Next month, winter will start settling in, and all you will ever see for the consecutive months is snow and cold. Would be nice to stay in your dorms and hide under the blankets, wouldn't it? Sad, we all still have to attend lectures and teach classes. But you know, when winter starts settling in, this means it's December. And then a new year will begin in January and then comes February.

What's in February?

Our annual, Valentine's Day college festival!

When Valentine's day comes, do you all know what that means? If you haven't guessed it by now, you should listen more intently here.

That's right, Guardians of Love is making a comeback!

It starts on the very first day of winter, so mark your calendars, plug in your earphones and tune in to listen to our very own podcast, hosted by Y/L/N Y/N!

See you there!”

PROFILES

000 | y/n's doggies , cool kids (and mark)

A WEEK BEFORE DECEMBER

001 | who doesn't know jungkook?

002 | an extra

003 | silly name

004 | loser alert

005 | jaehyun from drama?

006 | a stroll in the park (+0.3k words)

DECEMBER

007 | worst cohost ever (+0.7k words)

008 | traitor best song

009 | fiction novels and assholes (0.6k words)

010 | sucks to suck

011 | i love ass

012 | future hubby

013 | hypocrite (+0.4k words)

014 | feet pics

015 | weird but ok...

016 | a little giddy, just a little (0.5k words)

017 | stop encouraging his delulu ass

018 | y/n and mark got married ?!

JANUARY

019 | crazy in love

020 | ready for them lips (+0.6k words)

021 | bare minimum really

022 | laughs in evil

023 | thinking thinking thinking

024 | go take a thera(piss)

025 | oddballs

026 | markyn agenda

027 | safety purposes

028 | im not that mean

029 | delulu ass mf (+0.4k words)

030 | ungrateful brat

031 | redacted x4

032 | markussy

033 | who ate your peanut butter?

034 | the friend box

035 | friends friends friends

FEBRUARY

036 | bloncist

037 | eye twitch

038 | happy ever after

039 | whats after or

040 | happy valentine's day!

© JAEMINRI, 2023

[steddieas-shegoes]

Read Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 1 first :)

————————————————————————

Eddie and Steve slept for hours, while Wayne sat waiting. He kept a few crossword puzzles by his designated chair for the times he sat with Eddie, but this time, he couldn’t focus on anything but the way Steve and Eddie kept moving closer to each other in small ways in their sleep.

He’d considered waking Steve up a few times just so he didn’t have to watch his back and neck bend at such an impossible angle.

But god, he was resting.

Wayne wasn’t interrupting any sleep that boy got.

But he watched them both curl into each other incrementally, barely moving, yet always closer together every time Wayne looked at them.

Steve’s face was almost completely buried against Eddie’s “good” hip. If you asked Wayne, he didn’t have a good hip, he just had less stitches on one side.

Eddie’s right hand was placed in Steve’s on the bed, and his left hand was holding onto Steve’s hair for dear life. Like if he let go, Steve would disappear entirely.

From what Wayne knew of Steve so far, he wouldn’t be going anywhere unless he was physically forced.

Eddie’s body was relaxed, the drugs constantly flowing through the IV probably keeping him from experiencing any major pain. He had more stitches in his body than a sweater, and Wayne had no idea how he would heal physically or mentally from any of what happened.

But Wayne was honestly more worried for Steve.

Steve, the boy who had been exhausted since he was a small child, the boy who had refused medical care to make sure Eddie wasn’t alone or scared, the boy always secretly ready to let someone down.

He knew Richard Harrington. He knew how much of a showboat he was, how he never did anything unless it benefitted him personally or led to financial gain. Wayne even remembered shortly after Steve was born, he took an ad in the newspaper for a nanny who was willing to work ‘most days of the week and some nights, minimum wage, cooking and cleaning expected.’ Within a week, Richard and his wife Anne, were gone more than they were home.

Wayne wasn’t much for socializing or he probably would have caught Steve out and about with the nanny often. God knows Richard and Anne weren’t going to run errands.

But looking at the young adult in front of him, he had to think maybe it was a good thing Richard didn’t dig his claws in too deep. He knew if he had, Eddie would have been sitting alone right now, and Steve would be at some Ivy League college becoming something he didn’t even realize he didn’t want until it was too late.

Eddie visibly tensed, his body suddenly going rigid.

Steve was awake and fretting over Eddie before Wayne could even stand up from his chair.

“What hurts? Is it your side? I was hurting you wasn’t I? I’m sorry, Eds, really. I didn’t…”

“Steve. Please shut up. I wanted you there.”

Wayne noticed when Eddie spoke, his voice was raspy from disuse. He was still tense, but he was forcing a smile for Steve’s sake.

Wayne wasn’t having that. No matter how much Steve cared about Eddie, and Eddie cared about Steve, he wasn’t about to let either of them lie about their health.

“I’ll go get the nurse.”

Steve and Eddie both turned to look at Wayne when he spoke, cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Oh, didn’t know you were here.”

Eddie was still forcing a smile, but now it was pointed at Wayne like he wouldn’t see how fake it was.

Like he didn’t know all of Eddie’s tells since he was 13 and trying to hide how scared he was about living with him.

Wayne didn’t respond, just left the room to grab Janet, who sat alone at the nurse’s station during calmer periods in the chaos.

He hurried back in while she got the doctor on staff to see that Steve was helping Eddie adjust himself a bit in bed.

“Damn bats, Jesus Christ!”

Eddie let out a loud yelp and Steve froze.

“What was that?”

“What wasn’t it at this point?”

Eddie was breathing heavily, and his heart monitor started beeping more frantically.

“Son, you need to sit still until the doctor gets in here.”

Wayne wasn’t about to watch him hurt himself more and it didn’t seem like Steve knew how to make it better or stop him on his own.

“My side hurts like this.”

“I think your side will hurt any which way you try to be.”

Steve placed a hand on Eddie’s cheek, gently turning his face so he was looking at only Steve.

“You can be still for a minute, right? For me?”

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“Yeah.”

Wayne’s jaw was practically on the floor.

He’d been in charge of Eddie for 7 years and had never once been able to get him to listen the first time. Not a single time.

Before he could say anything, the doctor came in, followed by a handful of nurses, including Janet.

Janet sent him a smile, but hurried over to stand next to the doctor at Eddie’s bed.

“Well, Mr. Munson. You sure are lucky.”

“I’ll feel a lot luckier when I’m not in pain.”

“Where does it hurt?”

Eddie glared at the doctor. Steve glared at Eddie.

“Mostly my side. My chest hurts a little and my left hip and leg are sore.”

“Your left side is in pretty rough shape. You’ve got about 298 stitches holding you together.” The doctor checked his pupils and his heart rate before continuing. “Go ahead and start another morphine drip, same dose as before.”

The doctor turned to Wayne.

“He’s probably going to sleep the next dose off over the next 24 hours, so you can head home. We’ll call if he wakes up earlier.”

The doctor turned to Steve, deep frown on his face.

“You, too. He needs rest.”

Steve was refusing to make eye contact with anyone at this point and Wayne was almost certain he knew why.

Steve’s father wasn’t known for being a particularly kind or loving man. One wouldn’t have to think too hard to come to the conclusion that he was harder on his son than anyone else. The doctor was speaking to him in a way that would have made Wayne’s hackles rise for Eddie, and they did for Steve too.

“I think Steve should stay.”

Wayne wasn’t going to let either of his boys go without each other if it meant they’d get some sleep.

“We do recommend that Eddie have very limited visitors.”

“If I may,” Janet spoke up. “Steve’s been here the entire time and it hasn’t affected Eddie’s sleeping. We can’t be everywhere all the time so it would be nice for someone to stay with him and come get us if he wakes up again.”

The doctor gritted his teeth together but gave a single nod before exiting the room. Most of the nurses followed behind while Janet made herself busy playing with the buttons on Eddie’s IV pole.

“Thanks Janet. What’s that doctor’s problem?” Wayne asked as he made his way to the bed.

“He came in while you were downstairs and saw the um, sleeping arrangement. He wasn’t too fond of you seeming so close.”

“We can be more careful,” Eddie mumbled, body slowly relaxing into the bed.

“Or he can just deal with it,” Janet shrugged.

She sent a wink to Steve, then turned to Wayne.

“He should be feeling a lot better now. Right Eddie?”

“This is way better than the stuff I have.”

Wayne shook his head, but couldn’t help but smile at his nephew’s antics.

“I won’t ask questions I don’t want the answer to,” Janet said as she walked out of the room. She turned to wave and then closed the door to give them all some privacy.

Wayne looked down at Eddie.

He was so pale. He’d lost so much weight in the last week, and he barely had any to give to begin with. His hair was dirty and greasy, and despite Steve and Janet giving his face and arms a wipe down, he still had dirt under his nails.

Wayne didn’t know the details of what happened. They said it was earthquake related, but he knew better. He knew if this was just an earthquake, Steve wouldn’t have stood guard by his bed for days on end.

He was just glad Eddie was alive and awake.

He placed a hand on his right shoulder.

“I’m glad to hear your voice, kiddo.”

Eddie’s eyes were glassy and his smile was much brighter than before when he responded.

“Glad you hear my voice, too. Have you met Steve? He’s my boyfriend. Or maybe not? I want him to be though. Do you think he likes me?”

Wayne looked over at a bright red Steve, then smiled down at Eddie.

“I think he likes you a lot, kid. You get some rest. Steve will still be here when you wake up, alright?”

“You too?”

“Sure.”

So Wayne stayed, and Steve stayed. Wayne watched them both as Eddie slept.

Steve didn’t fall back asleep. He looked like he needed to, but any time his eyes started to slip shut, he shook his head and widened his eyes trying to fight it.

“Steve?”

“Yes, sir?”

Wayne watched as Steve’s body curled in on itself defensively.

“None of that. You can call me Wayne.” When Steve nodded, Wayne continued. “Whoever you are to Eddie, I hope you know you’ve got me, okay? I know Eddie must like ya a whole lot for him to say any of what he did regardless of the drugs in his system. And you must like him a whole lot to not leave his side this long. But you gotta get some rest, son.”

“I take naps in the chair sometimes.”

“A nap ain’t rest. Especially not if you’ve been through war.”

“I…”

“You don’t have to tell me. I’m sure I shouldn’t know. But I been there. And I’m not lettin’ ya suffer the way I did when I came home.”

Steve’s eyes were watering and Wayne knew if he watched this boy cry, he’d be done for.

So when Steve’s first tear fell, Wayne got up and joined Steve on the other side of the bed, pulling him out of the chair and into his arms.

Steve was injured, and hadn’t had proper medical attention or pain medication, but he ignored it to fall apart in Wayne’s arms.

“That’s alright now. Let it out, son. Let it out.”

Wayne felt a tear fall down his own cheek. He couldn’t have possibly predicted this moment, but he knew he was meant to be in it.

He was meant to be here with Steve, providing something the boy needed for a long, long time.

He was meant to be someone for Steve the same way he was meant to be someone for Eddie.

[numberonetastemakerwhispers]

Lustful Desires

Miguel O'hara series...

Pairing: !pornstarmiguel x !smallcampaignreader

TW: NSFW BELOW CUT ✂️

Miguel o'hara. Known for his work and videos online through his years of working as a pornstar. Hes only posted little to few videos, but the outcome of them all were beautiful.

You had found him after scrolling through some videos on your browser, the title reading 'Lust and Fuck'. You pressed it reluctantly, expecting something boring than what the title was. Instead you were greeted with a muscular tanned man. Your eyes following how his muscles flexed, the way his lips curled up as he smirked. Shit he was hot.

And god you swore you almost came at the sight unraveling. (You did) The end where he was grunting loudly as his hips moved sloppily to where he finally came.

Your hands seemingly moving on their own as they dipped down to your panties, rubbing slow circles on your clit, making you shudder. (rewatching the video, hehe)

You watched the rest of his videos, cumming almost twice as much as you usually have in months. All being breath taking and exhausting as your hand cramped from chasing your high each time.

You were also a pornstar, but not on his level. You usually did solo videos, wearing pretty lacy lingerie, indulging yourself with your sways and swoons as you unraveled yourself for the camera. Maybe even fucking yourself silly with whatever toys you had, having you moaning like a slutty bitch. Your neighbors probably have heard.

Although you did solo, you did take some requests on considering to work with others, maybe those who also did solo, or more experience but god you weren't expecting the email you were just about to get sent...

----

Few hours go by as you were getting settled in your bed, getting ready to knock out when your phone suddenly buzzed. You thought it was from one of your managers, maybe even a notifiction from one of those thristy men on your porn site. You were oh, so wrong, looking at your phone as you gasped. Your eyes scanning the name from whom the email was from before opening it. Miguel O'hara.

You thought you must have been dreaming? The one and only? It couldn't have been! But you read the message over and over and that you almost peed your pants! (or maybe you did. jk)

The message was mind blowing to you, but still it was unexpected.

' Subject: Request ...

Hello preciosa, Ive seen your works and I must say you are a sight for sore eyes...

I was wondering if you would love to work with me in one of my own?

-

Miguel O'Hara.

You squealed as your fingers starting typing faster than your brain could process, having to delete then reform your words as you typed back.

'Subject: yes please!

Ive seen your works as well! I'm quite a fan

... and i would love to work with you. We'll work things out with our managers yea?

-

Y/N.

You sounded almost too excited. Desperate even. But who wouldnt be? When a well known pornstar like Miguel who blessed with a body of a goddess? You thought you had been blessed by the gods, or cursed even. Since you couldn't sleep a wink after that email.

-

6:00 AM

Your alarm had went off on your phone. Grumbling and groggy from your restless sleep as you turned it off, wiping your eyes and the puddle of drool that had been growing from your slumber, as you checked your phone. Another email!

You tapped it as you read it over, your body feeling fully awake now at the message.

Subject: Plan

'Alo, carino you sound excited.. tomorrow at 2 pm at ******.'

-

Miguel O'Hara.

It was short. It spoke truth. it was TOMORROW?! You had thought that a meeting would take a few days even a week but it was happening tomorrow! You felt your cheeks flood with redness as your buried you face in your hands.

What was the theme going to be? Did you have to bring your own clothes of choice? Was the fact meeting him face to face might actually give you a heart attack? Would he even like how you look in person? Would it give him a heart attack?!

Gosh you decided to calm yourself down, seeing how overwhelmed you were getting over a email. You took a deep breath and started typing a reply back.

'Subject: Plan

Im a little excited.. more nervous tho. Ill be there tomorrow!'

-

Y/N.

You sighed as you hoped the day would go by slowly, letting the time for you to consume your inner thoughts and the need to be settled down. You got up and went on with your day. (with the thought of miguel lingering)

-

It was almost 10 as you settled in your comforters after a nice long shower, finishing and editing a draft of yourself up to your site as you yawned exhaustly, ready to knock out. The thought of meeting up with him roamed your mind, making you jitter with anticipation and anxiousness. You pushed those thoughts aside, ready to get back to them when you wake up.

-

You groaned. you couldn't even sleep at all. Only finally falling asleep around 4 in the morning, scrolling through pages and posts to help you fall asleep faster, to no surprise it brought you hell.

It was 10 AM, your meet up was in 4 hours, but you'd be heading there an hour early since the place was pretty far from where you lived.

You called your manager, making sure everything was still in order (it was) as you were up and getting ready. It was scary really, as you did your best to find what would be most appropriate to wear and what wouldn't be.

You decided for a skim black skirt, white sweater with a pink vest over it. Your hair blow, starting your makeup after showering and doing your daily skincare.

You had lipgloss and mascara, a little blush from here to there and that signature mole on your right cheek. You made sure you looked decent as you did last minute sprints of perfume before you trampled out your apartment.

Rushing down your apartment stairs, as you hopped into your Toyota that you had bought off an auction for half the price, starting it up as you finally hit the road, ready for the day to unravel.

You made it, but 30 minutes late. Blaming the traffic that went on your hour early drive over. Always traffic...

You had found yourself talking with your manager along the way, him scolding you back and forth about being late, as you just huffed but apologized. You were lead into a room with lights and cameras scattered around the room, an area in the middle where it must have been where you were going to perform the scene with Miguel. It was all mind blowing, even more when you laid your eyes on him.

He was way more attractive in person, his smile flooding the room. The way his shoulders flexed with every movement, the way he slicked his hair back to not let any piece fall on his forehead. He was a man who would be seen as a piece from a museum you thought to yourself.

You had caught yourself staring that sent you straight back to reality. He was looking straight back at you, with a smirk that was seen clear for days. It had your cheeks flushed and your manager still fussing on how you weren't paying attention to his lecture.

It didn't matter after you and miguel had walked up to eachother greeting eachother and eachothers managers. You smiled sheepishly as he smiled back as well.

"Alo preciosa.." He said, his voice sounded rough and smooth a hint of a grunt being heard.

"Hey.." you said your voice almost a squeak from how shy you were. You earned a chuckled from him as he took your hand in his as he gave it a firm squeeze, placing a kiss on the back of your palm.

"No need to be shy carino, since we're working with eachother today." He reassured, which made not only your heart flutter but your other heart beat with need. (oopsies)

You nodded as you chuckled to yourself, looking up into his coffee brown eyes, his fangs poking out as he smirked at you.

"Okay ill try... but don't be disappointed when I do." You said softly as your managers starting discussing on the scene and prepping the platforms, choice of clothing and need of materials.

It was all so new to you, to be working in an actual studio, and it was a big bump to your campaign seeing as you were only just a small creator. Although you knew this would be a huge raise for not only you, but your campaign as well.

When you were pulled to the dressing room you had seen scatters of different clothing presented before you, making you awe and oh at such selection.

Although it all seemed appropriate for the scene you had to display with Miguel. The scene of which 2 lovers coming out of an argument, which turned to hot angry sex.

Something new to you and a jump to what you expected. Thought of maybe slow sensational romance, him coming home as you both held onto one another but instead happened to be this..

--

After roaming through your selection of clothing, you decided to go for a simple 'at home' look. Silk shorts that clung onto your thighs nicely, and a matching silk tanktop (sleep wear). You finished by getting prepped and sprayed down after having your makeover, mascara and eye liner, lip gloss and instead of your signature mark they decided for you not to wear it.

You made your way out the changing room as your eyes caught onto the tall burly man who wore a black t-shirt that strained against his chest, making it hard for your gaze to be pulled away. He wore grey sweats, clinging onto his musclar thighs just right, showing the plump of his ass which had you blushing like a fool.

He saw you, maybe even you staring at him in such a way, as he made his way over.

"mi nína... estás preciosa..." (my girl...your beautiful...) He murmured, his gaze traveling down the outfit you wore just for the show, for him specifically. You smiled softly as you didn't understand his spanish, which made it awkward but fun.

"What are you saying?" You giggled, looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours, the feeling of staring into his seemingly felt like you were being lured in.

"nothing to worry about." He smirked as he took your hand in his, his own making yours looked drawf compared to him. You felt jittery and vulnerable, letting him drag you along as you both got on set. You take a deep breath, feeling rather tense. Miguel seemed to noticed as his hand rubbed slow circles on the small of your back.

"shh..No te pongas nervioso, te tengo amor." (dont be nervous, i got you love.) He reassured looking down at you with comfort and ease in his eyes, your body seemed more at ease as you smiled up at him.

Although you didn't know what he was saying but you knew it probably meant something sweet.

--

"SCENE STARTS IN 3..." The manager yelled from the back, you being in the kitchen as he just got back home from the pub, really to you it seemed like a toxic plot, but with miguel he seemed so sweet and reassuring, that you didn't seem to care for the plot.

"2..1 ACTION!" Your manager yelled as cameras were turned on, lights making sure they luminated the right places, as miguel walked into the door of your home.

"Hola hermosa, ¿qué estás haciendo?" (hey beautiful, what are you doing?") He asked, his arms raveling around your waist, pulling you close as you nudged him aside.

Although you didn't know what he was saying, reading your scripts and having to scan it a million times put ideas in what it might be.

"Don't hey beautiful me." You mumbled, nudging him away as you avoided looking up at him. His eyes were analyzing your reaction and movements.

He scoffed as he shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to approach you once more.

"Hey.. whats the matter with you?" He said, his accent weighing heavy on his words. His eyes demanded to look at yours, as he grasped your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

You furrowed your brows, huffing as you were forced to stare into such dangerous eyes, ones that made you dizzy and undone if stared into too long.

"Let go of me, you reek of alcohol." You said, slapping his hand away as you walked it off. But not without him swooping you against the wall, his gaze was sharp, a low growl heard from him.

"¿Con quién crees que estás hablando? You know better.." (who are you talking to like that?) He said in a firm tone, his face getting closer to yours, the feeling on his breath fanning against your lips.

Your lips quivered, his thumb brushing over them as his gaze dropped to your lips.

"cariño, dime, ¿por qué estás molesta?" (baby, tell me why your upset?) He sighed, letting his grip falter as he pulled you close, hands grazing down your body as he squeezed at the plump of your ass, making you squeak.

You'd almost forgotten that this was all for show, all for a video to publish, as you got lost in the thought of acting appropriately.

"Your always out, i..didn't have the best day today, thinking if I-"

"Took your anger out on me would help?" He finished your sentence, as you nodded sheepishly.

He chuckled as he pulled you closer, pinning you against the wall as he pressed a kiss on your temple, another to your cheek before whispering against your ear.

"Meaning it would help by getting me all riled up till we ended up hate fucking?.." He chuckled as he lowered his head, pressing kisses on your neck, making you moan out as you nodded.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Words hermoso , use your words." He hushed against your neck, biting at the nape softly, leaving a mark as he licked it afterwards, soothing the sting.

"yes.. yes i did.. bu-"

"but what? wanted me to lose my patience with you? wanted me to fuck you mercilessly? till you cant breath, till you cant think straight?" he clicked his tongue again, making you gulp back the guilt.

"Qué desastre para mí, cariño, un pequeño desastre, a slutty whore for me yea?" (such a mess for me baby, a pretty little mess) He chuckled, making your face go red as he picked you up, pressing his lips against yours as you both savored each other. His hands holding you firmly against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist for support as you felt his bulge against your stomach.

You gulped at the size, it felt huge. Girthy even. He noticed by your face, whispering something against your ear, quiet enough for the cameras not to hear.

"Gonna ruin you sweetheart." He whispered. He pressed a kiss on your temple before wrapping his lips around yours, letting his tongue explore. His hands worked on your body, groping the flesh of your hips, traveling up to squeeze and tease at your breast, making your back want to arch off the cold walls.

His weight pinned against you, making no effort of escape possible as you moaned out his name, trying to hide your face into the nape of his neck before one of the managers yelled.

"DONT HIDE YOUR FACE." Your manager yelled leaving you pouting as you brought your face back up. Miguel's eyes gazing into yours as he smirked, before running his hands under your tanktop, flicking and pinching at your breast as you whined against him. The feeling of his hips trying to find relief only adding on to your pleasure.

He peppered you with kisses, biting and sucking marks all over your chest mumbling 'mine' and 'who do you belong to hermoso?' here to there, not that you noticed, already being lost in the feeling of him slow burning your need for him.

He stopped, making you whine as he smirked momentarily.

"Got to fuck you properly." He growled, as he brought you back into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom, as he threw you down onto the bed. Your body plopping into the soft mattress before his weight towered over you.

"shh.. quiet don't want to wake the neighors." He teased, before going back to kissing you until his lips left yours, as they traveled down your body, biting and sucking at at soft flesh. His hands soothed the sting that brought from the bites, the pain only making it better.

He finally slid down your shorts, revealing the heat growing between your legs as he groaned at the sight.

"joder..toda mojada y bonita para mi ... all for me." (fuck... all wet and pretty for me) he growled as he dove right into your wet heat, lapping at the nub of nerves making you quiver, your thighs tightening against his head. His large burly hands wrapping around your thighs, pulling them apart as he started fucking you with his tongue, making you moan like you haven't before.

"M-miguel plea-"

"Shut up.. you wanted me to fuck you right? Fuck you the way I wanted? Then let me do it properly you greedy slut." You whined. His words degrading you making you nod obediently. He then slowly teased the entrance of your cunt, before shoving them right in, curling them right right.

You gasped as he started thrusting them into you roughly, curling his fingers at that one spot that made you come undone. You felt like you saw stars with how far your eyes rolled back.

You panted heavily, you were close. The feeling of him sucking at your clit with his fingers stretching you out was all too much. He must have sensed it, pulling his fingers out your needy cunt, licking one long line against your puffy clit. He pressed an open mouthed kiss against your clit before sitting up.

"Taste so good precioso" He groaned before unbuckling his belt, your eyes wavering over as he patted the spot infront of him, making you get up, crawling over to him.

He pulled his cock out, groaning as he pumped it a few times before instructing you to open your mouth, his tip leaking with precum. He had to be atleast 8 or 9 inches, girth making it seem abnormal from how large it was.

The cameras came closer to the scene as they made sure to catch your face, not missing a single shot of it as he slapped his cock against your tongue, throwing his head back with ease. His hands bunching up your hair into his fist before pushing your head down, not letting you breathe from how far he pushed his cock into your throat. You gagged and drooled, his hips fucking his way into your throat as he cursed at how tight it was.

"Fuck.. baby relax your throat f'me.." He groaned. As you did your best, allowing him to use you as if you were some type of sexy toy, his sex toy. He rutted himself into your throat, loving the way tears trickled down your face, mascara running down your teary eyes as your flushed cheeks brought a primal part of him out.

He pulled out as you gasped for air, his hands manhandling you effortlessly, throwing you onto your stomach as he pushed your back down, your ass up on display for him as he slapped it, leaving a light sting and a imprint of his hand.

"Qué hermosa... eres jodidamente hermosa." (your beauitful, fucking beauitful) He awed at how his hands left beauitful marks on your flesh, before soothing it over with his hand, before placing his hands on your hips, as he alligned himself.

"W-wait miguel let me-"

Before you could even speak he already slammed his hips against yours, shoving all 9 inches of himself into your tight wrath as he let out a breathless curse. Your eyes rolling so far back into your head you couldn't even remember if cameras were still filming or not. Nonetheless if you were even on stage or at home experiencing this.

"What were you saying? Can't hear with you

cryinf and moaning bonito.. All pretty and displayed for my cock." He grinned as he started thrusting into you, slamming into you faster but with long rough deep strokes that hit against your cervix, making you go numb.

Cameras came close, ones filming the way he was fucking you recklessly while other on your fucked out expression. Your makeup all ruined, tears prickling down your eyes at how overwhelmingly good you felt. You moaned like a bitch in heat, the way he groped at your breast, pinching the sore parts of them making you whine and cry out in pleasure as he fucked you mad.

His low grunts and groan, the breathless curses he let out as he slapped your ass, making it all red and achey before you finally felt your climax building, throwing yourself back against him as he growled at the feeling, slapping your ass roughly, pulling mewls and gasps out of you.

"Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock baby?" He cooed, slapping your ass over and over till it was a deep shade of red. His groans growing more desperate as his hips slammed into you sloppily, showing how close he was.

"Cum with me.. cum with me mi precioso" he panted, leaning down to press soft kisses along your spine, as he slammed into you once more, shooting his ropes of cum inside you, fucking it back into you to keep you nice and full. You rode your high, his hips grinding into you slowly helping you out tremendously. As you fell against the bed limp, exhausted and fucked out as he chuckled, pulling out slowly as his cum drooled out your hole, the camera making sure to catch the sight.

He leaned over, pressing kisses on your temple, over your cheeks, and the nape of your neck all the way down your back.

"You alright mi amor?" He asked softly, his voice the sound of gravel and softness as all you did was nod numbly, trying to present a smile.

-

The scene was done and you both got cleaned up, refreshed and back into your normal clothes. You whined at how sore your cunt felt, maybe he did go a little too rough, not that you cared atleast. You had marks littered all over you, from bitemarks, to hickeys, scattered everywhere making you huff at the sight.

You finally met with eachothers managers, both seeing eachother once more before he brought his hand to hold yours, pressing a kiss to the back on your hand.

"Pleasure working with you hermoso..." He grinned, standing back up at his full height.

"Pleasures all mine, I hope the video came out as you liked." You smiled up at him, the feeling of pride filling your senses.

"Might be my favorite tape..." He chuckled, seeing the way it made you all flustered.

"Here.. before we part ways." He pulled out a piece of paper, placing it in your vest pocket as he gave you a playful wink before waving goodbye, which made you confused, excited, and sad.

As he left you pulled the note out of your vest, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your veins as you read.

'mi amor ... here is my number .

(***) *** ****, for when you want to talk or work once more. don't be shy to call mi amor.'

Miguel .

Your heart felt as if it pounced out your chest, the feeling of getting his number was all you needed to be able to expect further things in the future. But for what you knew, you were definitely going to leave a little message in his inbox.

* End *

---

(This is my first publish of thought! Sorry if theres any miss spells or grammer issues-- scanned through it so many times and still struggling.

Hope you enjoy!)

[pahtoosh]

bunnies and kisses

masterlist

summer celebration masterlist

18+

wc: ~1100 words

warnings: tdatt takes place in the midwest and yet i insist on giving lee a poorly formed southern accent

a/n: this is the last day of my summer celebration week🥺 thank you again so much to everyone who has read, liked, commented, or reblogged! i’ve had so much fun this week and I hope to do something again like this in the future! this is probably my favorite piece ive ever written and I hope you all love it as much as I do🤍

pairing: lee bodecker x gn!little!reader

summary: lee’s baby becomes obsessed with bunnies. lee tries his best to be supportive.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Did you see their tails, Daddy? They’re so fluffy! D’you know bunnies can use their tails to talk to other bunnies? They let them say when they’re in danger!”

God please let this sound genuine. “That’s great, baby.” That coulda been better.

You huffed and crossed your arms. “More than ‘great’! Is the coolest thing ever!”

Lee sighed. He really was trying to sound interested. Last week he took you to a petting zoo and you were entranced by the bunnies. You couldn’t stop talking about them; it was nonstop bunny facts for a whole week.

He loved your enthusiasm and wanted to support your new interest, but he was nearing the end of his rope. Lee wasn’t used to talking or listening so much before he met you. He liked the change, but he was still adjusting to it.

He reached his last straw with the bunny facts when you weren’t even around. A fellow officer was recounting his hunting trip and Lee almost butted in with the reason bunnies have a white tail before he caught himself. Lee didn’t contribute to conversations like that and he most certainly did not share fun facts.

He made a beckoning gesture. “C’mere baby. Sit on Daddy’s lap, I wanna talk to ya.”

Arms still crossed, you sat with Lee on the recliner, leaving your spot in the middle of your living room where you interrupted Lee’s show to present him with more important bunny information. He kissed the spot between your brows to smooth the wrinkle forming there.

“Now I know you love those bunnies, and I love hearin’ you talk about ‘em. But can ya give me a lil’ bunny break once in a while? Daddy doesn’t have the energy to be talkin’ all day long. I wanna be good at listenin’ to ya, and I can’t do that if I’m tired.”

Your arms slumped out of position and you looked up at Lee with sad eyes. “You tired of me?”

“No, god no. I’m not tired of you, baby. Could never be tired of you.” He hugged you close. “Daddy just needs some quiet time once in a while, that’s all. It’s like when you an’ I go to the grocery store on a busy day and it’s too much an’ ya just wanna go home. Some days everything adds up and I need a breather.”

“Did you have a bad day, Daddy?”

“Nothin’ you need to worry that sweet little mind a’ yours about. Daddy’ll be right as rain after some cuddles. Can ya help me with that?”

You smiled at him. “Yeah, I can do that. And we watch your show too!”

Lee kissed your cheek. “Thank you, baby.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

You took to giving Lee some space very well. Things essentially went back to the way they were before the petting zoo, only now you needed an outlet for your bunny babble.

You went to the library and worked on reading through every bunny book they had. Lee even bought you a holder for your library card that was made with bunny-decorated fabric. While reading, you wrote down every new fact in your journal(also decorated with bunnies).

Every night, Lee would come home and you’d do your usual routine of hugging him, kissing him, and asking him about his day before you shared a new fact.

Lee became a better listener after opening up about his need for space. He asked you random questions about bunnies and worked some of that knowledge into your lives. Phrases like “quick as a bunny” entered his vocabulary and he caught onto your affectionate headbutts.

One day, Lee went into town by himself to get a nice pack of cigars for one of his superiors when a shop window caught his eye. The store specialized in imported goods. In the item display among fancy dishes and handmade bags rested a stuffed bunny. It looked soft and huggable with tan fur and a pink nose. He knew you’d love it.

Lee bought the plushie and rushed home. He couldn’t wait to see his baby’s reaction. He kept the toy in its bag and held it behind his back as he opened the door.

“Where’s my little bunny at?”

“Goin’ potty, Daddy! I’ll be out soon!”

Lee laughed. “Alright, well make sure you wash your hands real good, Daddy’s got a surprise for you.”

He grinned at your muffled squeal coming from behind the bathroom door and put away the rest of his shopping. He put the empty paper bags in their designated spot for your crafts and was met with a hug from behind.

“Hi Daddy!”

“Hi, baby.” He spun around to hug you back. “What’d you do while I was gone?”

“Ate snack and read my book and then I drawed a new bunny from my dream!”

“Oh yeah? What’d you have for snack?” Lee sensed you getting antsy.

“Carrots and crackers and apples and peanut butter.” You spoke quickly, wanting to know what the surprise was but you knew you had to be a patient baby or Lee wouldn’t give it to you.

“How were the apples?”

“Sweet.”

“How were the crackers?”

“Salty.”

“How was the peanut butter?”

“Sweet and salty.”

“How were the carrots?”

You groaned and smushed your face into his chest. “Daddyyyyy. You’re teasing.”

Lee laughed. “Ya caught me. Daddy won’t tease anymore, baby. Close your eyes and I’ll hand you your surprise.”

You did as he said and were surprised at the feeling of paper in your hands.

“Open your eyes.”

“A bag? What’s Gerald and Geraldine?”

“It’s the name of the store baby, ya gotta open the bag.”

“Oh.”

You peeked inside and let out a piercing shriek. “It’s my Bingo bunny!”

“Your what?”

“Bingo bunny! I saw him in my dream, his name is Bingo! You brought him home! Thank you thank you thank you, Daddy!” You threw your arms around him and kept jumping excitedly.

“You’re welcome, baby. You saw this bunny in your dream?”

“Yeah he was sad because no one loved him and no one gived him kisses but now he’s here and we can love him and give him kisses!”

You kissed the plushie and hugged it tightly to your chest, twisting side to side with excitement. You held the bunny towards Lee.

“You kiss him too, Daddy.”

He shook his head at your insistence and pecked the bunny’s forehead. You made the toy do a happy dance and skipped away, making up a song about bunnies in a meadow.

Lee watched you with a love-struck look on his face. You’d brought out a softness in him that no one had ever seen before. Later, he’d join your playtime and be met with a ton of kisses from you and your bunny.

[sequinsmile-x]

Expeditious - Part 2

This wasn't how Emily had seen her quiet, low-key, wedding day going.

Part 1

-x-

Hi friends,

Happy Sunday! This has very much got away from me and I hope you like this <3

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3k

Warnings: pregnancy, labour, preterm labour

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily groans as she slowly walks around her hospital room, both of her hands tight around the IV pole she was attached to as Aaron walked beside her, taking his role as her shadow very seriously. Her doctor had told her it was okay to walk around during labour to try and encourage it along, but that she had to be careful. Aaron was watching her like a hawk, his hands hovering just short of her back as if he were ready to catch her if necessary. 

She knew he was itching to touch her, his hands twitching at his sides as she walked back and forth across the small room, but she couldn’t bear it. She’d never shied away from his touch before, she always sought it the warmth of his palm, the press of his skin against hers one of the few things that could calm her down no matter what. This felt different, every time he touched her she felt suffocated, the pressure and anxiety of what was happening pressing down on her. She couldn’t control that her baby was coming early. She couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d somehow failed her child before they were even born, that she hadn’t been able to protect them for as long as she should have, and it hurt, emotional pain working against her with the physical pain of labour. Both of them rolling through her in waves, leaving her caught in the riptide. 

She could control this, a small piece of autonomy when her body hardly felt like hers. She was receiving steroids for the baby’s lungs, she was being checked every 30 minutes to check on the progress of her labour and the birth she’d pictured, the one she’d written a plan out for weeks ago, had been taken from her. 

She moans in pain as another contraction starts and she stops in place, her grip on the IV pole increasing as she scrunches her eyes closed, desperately trying to breathe through it, “Holy fuck this hurts.”

Almost out of instinct, a habit he can’t fight no matter how much he’s trying to, he reaches out for her. His palm is barely on her back before she flinches, jumps like she’s been burned, and he pulls his hand back, letting it drop to his side. He knows she doesn’t mean it, but it doesn’t stop the flash of hurt that burns in his chest. 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” He asks as the contraction passes and she shakes her head, slowly walking back towards the bed, her breath forced out of her as she sits back down. 

“No,” she says, forcing a smile on her face as she shakes her head, “Everything I do want I’m not allowed right now, and if I see another ice chip I might throw them at someone,” she says and she smiles when she chuckles. She shuffles back so she’s sitting up in the bed and swings her legs over on the mattress. She smiles when Aaron pulls the blanket back up over her, clearly making a point of not touching her at any point, and guilt swirls in her chest, “I’m sorry.” 

He frowns as he finishes arranging the blanket, taking his place in the chair next to her bed, “Why are you sorry?” 

She nods towards where they’d been standing when she’d flinched at his touch, “I didn’t mean to…”

He smiles softly as she trails off, “You have nothing to apologise for sweetheart,” he assures her, “Nothing at all.” 

She presses her lips together in an attempt to suppress her smile, love for him briefly replacing the anxiety that had taken residence in her chest ever since they found out she was in labour. She rests her hands on her bump and rubs a gentle circle over it,  desperately trying to distract herself until her next contraction. 

“We should let the others know we won’t be able to make it tonight,” she says softly, smiling at the thought of their friends all waiting at Dave’s house, “It’s not exactly a wedding reception if the bride and groom don’t turn up.”

He chuckles, “It’s not exactly a wedding reception if the guests don’t know thats what they are there for.” 

It had been her idea. The team's monthly pasta night was that evening, and it had formed part of the decision for picking that day for their wedding. It had allowed them to have the private ceremony they’d both decided they wanted but also the chance to celebrate with their friends the same day. 

“All that champagne we bought to ply them with once they found out we didn’t invite them to the wedding will go to waste,” she says, blowing out a steady breath.

“It won’t go to waste, Em,” he promises her, his hand on the edge of her bed, just shy of her, “We’ll celebrate with them when you two are home. We’ll have two things to celebrate, and you’ll even be able to have some of the champagne.” 

Her smile shakes as she’s overwhelmed with fear again, “As long as everything is okay.”

He hears what she hasn’t said, the unknown of if the baby would be okay hanging over them, and he wishes more than anything that he could reassure her, that he could take away all of the pain he could see in her eyes, but he knows he can’t. All he can do is be here for her in whatever way she needs him. 

“No matter what happens, things will be okay, Em,” he says softly and she chuckles, the sound catching in her chest as a tear falls onto her cheek.

“How do you know that?” She asks, her voice trembling, and he has to once again stop himself from reaching out for her, from wiping the tear from her cheek, not wanting to push her over the edge. 

“Because everything is always okay when I’m with you,” he says, with sincerity that flows off of him like a fine cologne. 

She laughs, her love for him unable to escape in any other way, forcing its way out of her chest as more tears slip down her cheeks. She can’t help herself as she places her hand over his, linking their fingers together and squeezing. She can feel the desperation in how he squeezes back, can see how some of the tension in his shoulders dissipates. 

She still couldn’t believe sometimes that she loved someone this much, that he loved her back. It was a life she’d once convinced herself she’d never get and it was precious to her, something she would spend the rest of her life protecting and cultivating. 

“Everything is always okay when I’m with you too.” ___

She grunts when she falls back against Aaron as the contraction passes, her embargo on him touching her long gone, left behind them around the time she’d had to start pushing almost an hour ago. It’s like a switch flipped, and all of a sudden she needed him behind her. He’d slipped into the bed without comment, sitting so she could settle between his legs, her back against his chest as he held both of her hands tightly. 

“Fuck,” she says, her head lulling to the side as she tries to catch her breath, moaning as another contraction starts to build already, “This sucks so much,” she complains, her breathing heavy as Aaron presses a kiss to her sweaty forehead, “This hurts so much more than being stabbed with a table leg.” 

Aaron stops himself from laughing when he sees the concern flash across the faces of the doctor and nurses in the room and he kisses Emily’s forehead again before he squeezes her hands. 

“You’re so close, Em,” he says, “Just a few more minutes and we’ll meet our baby.” 

She shakes her head, her entire body on edge as pain rolls through it, her grip on his hands getting impossibly tighter, “No, it’s too early. It’s too early it’s not sa-” 

She groans, cutting herself off as her body starts to take over, forcing her to push even though she doesn’t want to. 

“Your husband is right,” Doctor Griffin says from the end of the bed, her smile something close to encouraging, “I’m holding your baby’s head, they’ve got a head full of dark hair,” she says softly, “One more push and you’ll have a baby.” 

“You’ve got this, sweetheart,” Aaron says, his lips against her temple, “I’m so proud of you.” 

Emily screams as she pushes, falling back against Aaron as she feels their baby leave her body, slipping into Doctor Griffin’s waiting hands. 

“It’s a girl,” Doctor Griffin says, and Emily chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. 

“A girl,” she breathes out, tilting her head to look at Aaron, “We have a little girl.”

“I love you,” he replies, kissing her, a quick thing stamped against her lips, her response muffled by it. 

It’s only when she pulls back she realises in the few seconds since the baby had been born there had been silence. She tries to sit up but Aaron stops her, his hold on her firm enough to keep her in place. She can feel his fear too, passing from his chest into hers as he holds her impossibly closer, the joy they’d felt all too brief.

“Why isn’t she crying?” She asks, watching Doctor Griffin intently as she works, “What’s wrong-”

She’s cut off by a sharp, loud, cry and the relief is palpable, driving her to tears as she relaxes against Aaron again. 

“Here she is,” Doctor Griffin says, passing the baby into Emily’s waiting hands, “You only have a couple of minutes I’m afraid before we need to take her to the NICU to get checked over by the doctors there.” 

Her words barely register as Emily holds her daughter close with shaking hands. She smiles as the baby calms down a little the moment she’s in her arms. There are so many people in the room, Doctor Griffin still at the foot of the bed, a nurse whose name she’s forgotten putting a tiny hat on the baby’s head to keep her warm and a blanket over her back, another nurse waiting to take the baby away from her in a few moments, but everything is narrowed down to just her, her little girl and Aaron. 

“Look at you,” Emily says, desperately trying to take everything in, to remember every little detail of this moment, every feature of her tiny baby from her dark hair plastered to her head to her dark, bleary eyes, “You’re so beautiful,” she turns to look at Aaron, unsurprised to find tears shining in his eyes too, “Look at her Aaron.” 

“She’s perfect,” he says, his voice cracking as he kisses Emily’s cheek, his hand coming to rest over hers on the baby’s back, “Just like you.” 

“I’m sorry to do this,” Doctor Griffin says, nodding one of the nurses over, “But we do need to take her for now,” she says sympathetically, smiling softly when Emily tightens her hold on her baby, “I’m also still not done with you Emily.” 

She hates it and she can’t explain how she feels, a deep protectiveness overtaking her as she holds her daughter closer, eyeing the nurse who steps closer suspiciously even though she was only doing her job. 

“I…I can’t let her go,” she says, feeling ridiculous, but Doctor Griffin’s response is only more kindness, her hand on Emily’s knee as she squeezes. 

“You’ll have a whole lifetime together,” she assures her, “And she looks okay, but since she was only 34 weeks we need to check her lungs and a few other things that we can’t do here,” she smiles as Emily doesn’t relent, no closer to handing the baby over, “And Aaron can go with her to the NICU if that makes you feel any better, whilst we work on delivering the placenta and giving you a few stitches.” 

She nods, turning her head to look at her husband, “You need to go with her.” 

He frowns, the thought of leaving Emily by herself when she is so vulnerable going against all of his instincts, even though he also wants to be with his daughter, “Are you sure, sweetheart?” 

She nods again and raises her little girl up so she can kiss her before she hands her over to the nurse, her hands itching to take her back the moment her slight weight is no longer against her chest. 

“I’m sure,” she says, “I don’t want her to be alone.” 

Aaron kisses her, his hand on her cheek as he holds her in place before he pulls back. He slips out from behind her carefully, making sure not to hurt her as she lays back against the mattress. 

“I love you,” he says, squeezing her hand and kissing her knuckles before he lets go, “I’ll bring her back as soon as I can.” 

“Love you too,” she says, her eyes fixed on the bassinet her daughter had been placed in, “Both of you.” 

She sighs as she watches them go, finally giving into the emotions that had taken residence in her chest as the door closes, a sob escaping her as she covers her face. She shakes her head at herself as she furiously wipes tears from her cheeks

“Goddamn it, I can’t stop crying.” 

Doctor Griffin smiles at her, “You got married this morning and you had your baby 6 weeks early,” she says, squeezing her knee one more as she winks at her, “I think you’re allowed to cry today of all days.” 

Emily nods, her lower lip trembling as she feels another contraction start to build and she stares at the door Aaron and their baby had left through along with what felt like part of her heart.

___

By the time Doctor Griffin clears Emily to go to the NICU herself, it’s unnecessary. 

Aaron walks back into the room with a tiny bundle in his hands and a reassuring smile on his face. He walks over and adjusts his hold on the baby, passing her over to Emily without needing to be asked. 

“Someone was insistent on seeing Mommy as soon as possible,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed as Emily holds their daughter close to her chest, her lips against the baby’s hair as she breathes her in. 

“Hi sweet girl,” she says, kissing the side of her head, “Mommy missed you,” she says before she looks at Aaron, “What did the doctor say? Is she okay?” 

He nods, his hand on her leg as he squeezes it through the blanket, “She’s okay, she’s tiny, only 5lbs. But she’s okay,” he assures her, smiling as she visibly relaxes, “She shouldn’t need the NICU but they’ll monitor her closely and she needs to go to the progressive care nursery whilst you’re here - it’s just down the hall. They let me break her out for a bit,” he clears his throat before he says the next part, well aware it wasn’t going to go down well, “She’ll be here for at least a week.” 

Emily frowns, tightening her hold on her daughter, “Doctor Griffin said I can go home tomorrow. I’m not leaving without her.” 

Aaron knew that would be the first thing she’d say when she found out, but he also knew not to argue with her about it now, that it would be a bridge they’d have to cross when she was discharged.

“Let’s not worry about that now,” he says, leaning forward and kissing her, “We should focus on her name first,” he pulls back and smiles at her, tilting his head so he’s looking at his daughter’s sleeping face, her cheek pressed against Emily’s chest, “I think the name we picked works perfectly.” 

She nods, pushing back her worry about leaving her baby behind as she looks down at her, “Yeah, I think you’re right,” she says, smiling at her husband before she looks at her daughter again, “Hi Molly,” she says, testing the name on her tongue, knowing she’d say it every day from the rest of her life, “I think you get your desire to be early from Daddy,” she says, smiling when Aaron laughs, “You definitely don’t get that from me.” 

Aaron shifts so he’s closer to them, wrapping his arm around Emily’s shoulders, “She just wanted to be part of today,” he says, kissing Emily’s temple, “And now neither one of us will ever  forget our anniversary.” 

She laughs and she nods, “That’s true,” she says, tracing her finger up and down Molly’s cheek, “You just wanted to be a part of the fun.” 

He watches his girls together for a moment before he sighs softly, “Shall we call the others?” 

She nods, tearing her eyes away from Molly, “We should. Facetime Pen - she’ll have her phone with her, she’s probably trying to track where we are.” 

Aaron laughs and kisses her before he stands up, picks up his phone and selects Penelope’s name. He turns the camera and makes sure Emily and Molly are in the shot before the call goes through. 

“Make sure to cover her ears,” he says, smiling when Emily does just that placing her hand over the ear not pressed to her chest, “I have a feeling she’s going to-”

“Bossman, I was just about to track you two down…” Penelope says as she answers, trailing off as she realises what she’s looking at, her squeal so loud Aaron sees Dave jump in the background, “Oh my GOD.” 

-x-

....yes there will be a part 3 xo

-x-

Tag List:

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[nickelstudy]

JLPT N1 Experience

So first of all, Happy New Year. It has been a while since I've updated this blog. I've been feeling depressed in the past few weeks, I think it's because of drawing? I feel like I haven't been performing well in art, and that it's hard to accept painful truth that I cannot please everyone- not that it matters on this blog, but it's WHY I decide to take some time to write an update here.

I was supposed to talk about my first experience with N1 but I got busy after. I caught up in many stuff, I guess, plus I was busy with my birthday and helping my family's work throughout the month. But now that it's over, let's talk shall we?

Before That

I haven't talked about my last week strategy, here's what I did.

Stopped learning Kanji and do the drills instead

Finished Shinkanzen Grammar in the first section. I had some days left, so I skimmed through the second section without doing the exercise (I did for A - D i think but- I definitely shouldn't)

Borrowed these two books (pic below). For reading, I did every bit of every question style (there were like 6 of them right? Short passage, Long, etc.)

And for listening, I tried to rush through it but I kinda gave up with the chapter III or IV I'm not sure.

I switched between two of them on the last day

FYI the blue book is actually fantastic! I think I've said it before but it has explanation for each answers. I think it's super cool.

Now For N1

Chapter 1: Before exam

For context, I travelled to the exam location alone, so I wasn't bounded by anyone and I could roam anywhere. I got out early, and arrived there pretty early. But walking from the entrance to the exam spot took a while, to the point where I doubted to myself if I was going in the right direction. There were many people there already. I think the morning peeps had already entered the room when I arrived.

I had lunch and... wander around (Typical Pikmin Bloom player). There wasn't much to do anyway. I decided to take a quick review of some onomatopoeia and other vocabs. I think at that point, nothing is more important than vocabs. It was a while before they allowed us to go up the building. Anyway, I SAW A KID in a highschooler outfit in front of the same room as mine! IM- I DON'T KNOW?? HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO BE THIS GOOD AT THAT AGE?? And of course we entered the room. I sat not so far from the entrance.

One thing that bothers me is the fact that they never announced to bring a mask but they asked everyone to wear it in the room?? Luckily, I had it on already.

Chapter 2: The Exam

Sorry for the long introduction haha. SO, starting off with vocabs, grammars, and reading. I skipped to grammar secion first because it's not too hard or too easy. It's all fuzzy now but I did okay(?)

There was あっての that's pretty easy. But there was one of them that bugged me and I was wrong on that one too. It's といたしまして... so weird, I didn't expect it to answer that. ALSO, HONORIFIC VERB CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD but i think i answered it right.

Then onto reading section because I was really scared if I couldn't finished it. It- took me a while to finish each of them but in a fair amount of time. It's like 10 minutes left that I switched to doing vocabs with a lightning speed because I FORGOT there was a fill in the blanks and not just guessing kanji's reading.

I almost got 誇張 (こちょう) wrong as こうちょう

There were 奇跡、偏り、矛盾、賄う、軽率 in which i had no problems

Filling the words is where I had problem due to hurriness. I missed the 快挙 cause I don't know the word.

見返り too, because there was a word that I thought it meant (repay) and not the first

I GOT ONOMATOPOEIA WRONG ANYwAY HECC YEA i didn't know what つくづく means so i went with きっかり or きっぱり im not sure

Also there was a sentence that was supposed to mean "His body condition was..." I thought it was "worsen" so I went with 崩れる except no it's the opposite "ほぐれる". I didn't know that word but i've seen it before it's the goodamn spirit's name from the game.

I didn't know what 尺度 means or how it is read but I got the meaning substitution right (yay) (it's standard)

Here's the fun one. デマ... THIS WORD THAT I NEED TO GUESS HOW IT IS USED WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING ITS MEANING. I tried to came up with the word this word could come from. Dermatologist? Demand? Theme??? (that's テーマ) I had no idea and got it wrong eventually. Can you guess?

It's "Demagogie", a German word meaning false rumor... WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED. I asked one of my Japanese if she knew. Of course she did. She even gave me an alternative for it too... but I forgot. I only know that's it in katakana (im sorry)

Last minute i left one Mondai randomly answered!

For Choukai, it was so goddamn fast. I am certain that if it wasn't fast, it would be manageable for me. I honestly don't know if I scored it well or not, the last listening part were as hard as ever. ONE THING ABT IT THOUGH, there was a part where they were talking in a cafe about how the shop owner use a coffee beans? I think?

ANd FOR GOD'S SAKE WHAT'S WITH THE BACKGROUND MUSIC??? My concentration was popped away, I kept glancing around wondering if what I was hearing was someone's phone or the tape's music. I don't even know what the question really was to be honest.

What's Next?

I- I don't know. I just need to wait for the result. But I'll try to slowly get back to learning a bit Korean and Japanese every day again. Probably need to brush up Memrise and Anki. At least 5 mins a day haha. Thanks for reading til here. Keep on learning! I'll make sure to do my best for learning languages this year too!

I don't have new year's resolution but I guess.. continue ASL? I got busy that I have no time to do it anymore. I doubt if I can do it, considering I'll be busy with internship next academic year.

Anyway, have a great year everyone. Hope you have a good luck and success with studying and anything you are willing to pursue this year.

[qqueenofhades]

Hi, do you have any tips on telling professors you’re dealing with depression? Like is it helpful to include details? Symptoms? It’s getting to the point in the last few days where I need to tell them something because I have assignments piling up and the symptoms I’m experiencing are getting pretty intense.

If It helps I think I’m dealing with atypical depression just based on how I relate to the symptoms list (leaden paralysis, oversleeping, severe rsd, can’t focus on anything even more than usual, just feeling an overwhelming physical emptiness in my brain). Ive been doing ok when I’m in class and I feel better then too, but when it’s done, as soon as I get home or am just you know trying to do my assignments or anything, it’s like a curtain falls on me. This has been creeping up on me for the last few weeks and I can recognize the circumstances that lead me here, but I feel like I’ve crossed a threshold in the last week from just having these worries and thoughts I could control to now this full blown physical Depression Experience that has control over me.

I don’t want to overshare so to speak and make my professors uncomfortable or permanently see me differently, but I also desperately want to be believed and accurately convey how disabled I feel right now in a practical sense. Just writing this all out to you took so much effort. I’m not really sure what to even ask for beyond extending my assignments to this weekend. This depression is so unlike what I’ve experienced in the past and I really don’t know where it’s going or what to expect. A part of me is hoping I’m just going to feel normal again in a few days but I can hardly think more than a few days out anyway.

I know all teachers are different but what would you want to hear and be ok with hearing from one of your students? What would you want to know?

Thank you so much for reading this and for any advice. I’m really sorry to just dump all of this here, I’m just not really sure where to turn right now. Please of course don’t feel pressured to answer. Thank you for your lovely blog and self. ❤️

Ooof. First of all, thanks for coming to me and I'm sure it took a lot of effort to put that together. I know that all-consuming, black-hole depression feeling, and it's not fun.

Here's what I would do:

First, reach out to your student counseling/health services center as a matter of priority. Almost every university has one, and they encourage you to take advantage of them. If that takes too much effort to do when you're in a funk, try to do it when you're on campus or have a little more energy. Say that you're really struggling and need to come in for an urgent appointment -- you don't need any more info than that, and they should be responsive/proactive about following up. There might also be a crisis line or priority email where you're assured a response in a certain amount of time.

Next, please do contact your professors and let them know what's going on! Here's a sample email for you:

Dear Dr. [Name],

I'm writing today to let you know in confidence that I'm experiencing severe mental health difficulties, which have been growing worse over the last few weeks and are negatively affecting my ability to participate in class. I am reaching out to the university counseling centers and other resources, but I am not feeling well at all and hope that you will be able to make adjustments to the deadline for [exam/project/paper etc -- fill in as necessary].

I will do my best to complete my work as expected, but please let me know if it is possible to arrange a meeting [via phone or Zoom if you don't want to come in], and discuss my options. I would like to know about the possibility of an incomplete grade or other ways to [pause/resolve/work with] my status for this semester.

I do apologize for any inconvenience, and hope that you'll be able to provide me with understanding and support in this difficult matter. I very much appreciate your time and consideration.

Best wishes,

[Your Name]

Hopefully, you can just copy and paste that with a minimum of effort, tweak it as necessary, and send to them. You can also reach out to the Disability Services office (as every university is required to have one) and see if accommodations can be made/allow you to complete work at a later date. If it's really bad, you also have the right to contact the university registrar and arrange for a leave of absence.

Anyway, this is to say: you have options to take care of yourself and make sure that the people around you know what is going on and can help develop a plan to deal with it, so please do take them! I know how awful and draining it feels, but if you need any other advice, please let me know, and I will do my best to answer. If you have a Tumblr account and want to DM me privately with more details, like the name of your university etc, I can also look for these resources and give you the information, so as to minimize the amount of pressure and extra work on you.

Hugs. <3

[r-ene]

how i've been surviving my second semester

not really big on tips with academics, more of staying and feeling alive on 12-hours class days

ive been mentioning in some of my posts that i have 11 to 12 hours class schedules this semester, and those days (wednesday and thursdays) are probably the most difficult days to squeeze in study time after class... especially wednesday since for thursday there's 4 major subjects to study for. and since the semester is ending, i'd like to share the things i've been doing because surprisingly i haven't felt any signs of burn out since this second semester.

note: i have a pretty lax schedule aside from wednesdays and thursdays this sem so most likely i won't be able to abide by these the following semester once our hybrid classes start + different schedule

1. workout first thing in the morning

started this one with just planks before and it helped me a lot with back pains due to sitting the whole day since after my last class at 7:30 pm, I would still continue to study after eating dinner, feeding Luna and so on. and recently i've been doing a 15-minute work out of 2-3 sets depending how much time i have before class starts and = instant energy boost. i noticed i didn't need to nap as much as i used to, but once i get to nap, i would feel all my tiredness from the day

2. sleep early on other days (M, T, F, St, Sn)

honestly still working on this because i like to do a lot of stuff within a day because i like getting things done as soon as possible and in advance for more leisure time + more time to do extra readings/notes and etc but this one is a necessity to lessen the probability of getting burnt out

3. supplements + caffeine

bee pollen supplement, vitamin c and collagen are the ones i take daily. aside from energy boost, as someone who hates being sick and doesn't like taking meds, i should keep myself healthy. i think caffeine, coffee speaks for itself for a 12 hr class haha

4. wednesday no-sleep

as much as possible i dont like doing this because not only is it a bad practice but since my wednesday schedule is 7:30am to 7:30pm and i have 4 major subjects on thursday, i need to sacrifice sleep to read through and study for those subjects especially during pre-exam week and exam weeks.

5. study buddies~ (+fun break times)

my group of friends from senior year has been a big help with this, we go on discord almost everyday and even though we are all from different majors (respiratory therapy, physical therapy, nursing, medical technology, architecture, marketing) we like hanging out on dc to study together for accountability and additional fun for studying :) we also have break schedules like wordle time at 12 mn where we all drop what we're doing (unless its very important) and go on wordle.

6. n a p s

this speaks for itself + i mentioned lots of times i love naps, sleeping in general since i was a kid. please make sure you take naps whenever you can, even a quick 15- to 20-minute nap could be an instant energy charger + it's also a break for our brain, to enhance memory and performance.

7. time management/prioritize

hmm another thing i'm still really working on, but since my gap year i like making to-do lists the night before and now i would make a list of things i need to do and highlight them in different colors for those i need to accomplish within the week and on another sheet of paper i would write down 3-5 tasks to get done within the day. +

8. not skipping meals

i used to not like eating breakfast but i've been practicing to do so recently because it's a necessity and since i worked out, i need to recharge or else i would fall asleep during morning class and even just a simple oatmeal is a big help with concentration (+ to avoid diabetes since both of our parent's family have a big history with diabetes mellitus, type 2) and i think there's a lot of people the same as me that when i really focus on something there's that tendency to put aside meals and eat once i get done and it's not a healthy thing to do especially since working/studying requires a lot of brain energy + energy in general, which we get from eating meals on time to avoid additional stressors such as stomach pain or headache from skipping/missing meal time. that being said, let's also eat healthily

9. cold shower before class

i swear i can never focus if i don't shower with cold water in the morning, especially with these kinds of schedule. it really wakes me up and theres a lot of benefits to showering with cold water (+ i live in a tropical country, it helps lessen me being irritable with the heat especially this summer time, specifically from 9-12nn, then i would shower again before lunch time gets done because it's also really hot at 1 to 4pm)

10. stretching

12 hours of class sounds bad but continuously sitting down for 12+ hours with pre-class and post-class study sessions is BAD. i can't begin to imagine how painful my neck, back and glutes would be if i don't move around every after 2 hours or whenever i can. im actually requesting to my mom if we could have a bar height table when we move so i could study/attend class with the option to just stand whenever i want to.

11. don't forget to wind down

personally i love going on a bike ride and walk around our village with the intention to just breathe in some air and do some sight-seeing, relax to wind down. sometimes i would do those to work out or do other exercises to sweat out the day's stress. other than those, sleep, read, watch, browse through my coloring books and do some coloring are other ways i like to wind down. another important note to not go to bed with a headache and/or get burnt out easily.

12. last but not the least, HYDRATE

water, water, water. sometimes i infuse my water with cucumber or lemon but usually it's just ice cold water in my 750mL flask and i would drink every now and then, especially when i can't focus/feel sleepy and refill at lunch, mid-afternoon and dinner. i also like drinking cold water as soon as i wake up and it's just really a necessity.

new tiktok :)

[mothicality]

post discusses selfharm a lot, though no details beyond it being selfharm and having scars. also mentions suicide attempts (no details)

guy with anxiety experiences anxiety, what a shocker!

did. big anxieties today. wishing two people would adopt me (host of nerd club (be my dad please) + dm for my d&d group at the nerd club (be my big brother please))

earlier today i decided to go to the pharmacy on my own for the first time ever. which is very scary. i cannot go shopping on my own but pharmacy is like a middle step since less options and you can get the clerk to help you super easy. still really scary, biggest shopping ive done alone before that was mcdonalds ;-;

but i bought gauze-ish stuff and disinfectant wipes. had to ask about it and i feel like the clerk was guessing it was selfharm related but she didnt ask. she was sorta tense and cautious with her answers but she was still nice and wasnt invasive or anything, so still good experience and i got the stuff

and then. so i go to the nerd club once a week, been there four times now, and i am a very warm person and it is fairly warm there so i get Hot. so i would like to wear shortsleeves to be less hot. but i am visibly Quite Scarred, which, well. i have no experience with people who arent familiar with selfharm, so going somewhere like that with my scars visible is scary

so i messaged the host a few days ago on messenger, no answer so i asked about how to contact him personally outside nerd club and he gave me his phone number (privilege!he wants to keep his work and personal life separate so not many get access to it), so i messaged him again when i got home 4ish hours ago

and. he just replied. and im too anxious to open it but he has guessed it is selfharm. i dont really know why i didnt outright say it, it's just. difficult i guess

since i was 12, pretty much all my interaction with other people irl has been within mental health contexts

i moved into my first grouphome then. the people there were familiar with selfharm since everyone there is mentally unwell, and one of the other residents had visible selfharm scars and sometimes wounds

my second group home was for kids with more severe issues, so theyre definitely also experienced with it, and they knew i was moved to that group home because of two suicide attempts

and then outside that i'm only really ever at appointments at the psych facility or the government - all people who have read about me before meeting me, who knows lots about me and my issues and whatnot

oh and with my family, all of us are mentally ill so theyre familiar with mental issues, and my mom used to selfharm a lot and has had several suicide attempts, so theyre familiar with it through her too

but now. ive joined three clubs, two of which are in person. these clubs have nothing to do with mental health and such, the nerd club is actually just a regular school club thats been opened up to people outside the school. so...it's different here. i don't know how to...be, i guess. i don't know what is or isn't okay. it's hard

i struggle socially there - they're really kind and welcoming and understanding, but...i don't know, maybe it's just anxiety, but i feel like i mess up more than they do, even though they don't get upset with me. i'm almost constantly anxious about missing social rules and what is and isn't okay to do

bleh. so yeah. big anxiety today. but it's...a good kind, in a way, i guess. it's because i'm doing difficult things that i previously couldn't. it's...progress, development.

dont know where i was going with this. just to vent out my anxiety i guess . . . i'm glad it's getting better