#you come into my house and get boogers all over the place??

[apuckishwit]

With a Capital P

Saw this post about Stobin having no boundaries, by @grimmfitzz and oops, my hand slipped.

By all rights, there should be some awkwardness. A little lingering strangeness, an adjustment period, if you will. After all, only a few days ago, he fully thought he had feelings for Robin. Well, obviously he does have feelings for her...but he'd thought they were entirely different than the ones he has.

He's maybe a little more concussed than he'd convinced the paramedics he was. To be fair, they had a lot going on.

The point is, he feels like there should be more weirdness. A time period in which he awkwardly shuffles Robin from a box marked 'possible girlfriend?' to the one marked just 'friend'--the one Tommy and Carol used to occupy before things went so sideways (though he's still too afraid to really examine the spaces those two left, too afraid it'll just confirm that he wasted so much time with people who were never his friends at all). Maybe even slot her into the box he's slowly constructing for the kids...something not quite labeled 'friend' and not quite labeled 'family' and quickly coming to take up the biggest chunk of his battered, lonely heart (oh, wow, yeah...definitely more concussed than he let on).

Turns out, though, that being drugged and tortured together, and then launching an assault on a gigantic flesh beast from another dimension with nothing but fireworks and nerve lets you skip over a lot of the beginning phases of a relationship (romantic or otherwise). Also turns out there's a secret, fourth box he didn't even know about. One that's just marked 'Robin' that he has apparently been just waiting for her to come along and fill.

Robin ends up spending most of the rest of the summer at Steve's house, more often than not. He doesn't know what she tells her parents. Doesn't particularly care. He's always had a weird relationship with parental care and authority, so he's not sure he's really in a position to have an opinion about if Robin is lying to her parents about where she is, or if they don't care that she's hanging out at his place so much.

They spend days abusing the central air, or watching movies they swipe from Family Video, or eating snacks out by the pool (he tells her she's welcome to swim, she notes that he never gets in the water himself and doesn't ask questions...but also doesn't move from his side). At first, he makes up a guest room for her when she spends the night, but after the fourth or fifth time one (or both) of them wake up screaming (goddamn, goddamn, goddamn it, he'd just gotten a handle on the nightmares about impossible creatures bursting from the wall, now he gets new material to deal with?) Robin just groans and collapses onto Steve's bed, burrowing under his blankets with him.

"Your room is hideous," she grumbles, grabbing one of his hands and bringing their joined fingers to rest in the small space between their bodies.

"I know," he shrugs. He squeezes her hand. She squeezes back. He listens to her breaths in the dark, feels the warmth radiating off of her. It's comforting. Grounding. He's not alone. Whatever terrors the night brings for them, they'll face it together.

He wakes up hours later, sunlight streaming into his room and the beautiful girl he'd thought he was falling for snuggled right up against his side, the two of them having moved in the night. It should be the stuff of adolescent fantasies but all he feels is a distant sort of confusion that they actually slept so long. Robin's face is smashed into his shoulder and he realizes he's been drooling into her hair, and the first thing she does when she wakes up is shriek about it.

"Ewww, gross! Seriously?!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Spit, Steve! My hair is covered in your spit!"

"Well I'm pretty sure this giant booger on my shirt isn't mine, Buckley!"

"Are you accusing me of--oh, wow that is big." Robin starts rubbing at her nose as she stalks into the bathroom and the shower starts running a moment later. He opens the door long enough to toss a clean towel onto the sink and then wanders down to the kitchen to start coffee.

She makes fun of his bedhead when she comes down the stairs, he goggles at the amount of milk and sugar she puts in her coffee. And he never makes up the guest room for her again.

*

"I am telling you, Johnson is trying to kill us with his exams! It's barely October and we've already had three!" Robin stabs angrily at the chicken cutlets in the pan with her fork, holding one up so Steve can see how brown it is on one side. At his nod, she starts flipping them over. She ducks her head without looking when he reaches over her to snag the basil out of the spice cabinet, still stirring the tomato sauce with his free hand.

"Yeah, Johnson's a dick. Glad I'm done with his class for good." He dips the spoon out of the sauce and blows on it for a moment before tasting, then holds the spoon out for Robin to lick the rest of it off.

"Mmm, more red pepper. And I know! You're so lucky. How did you even pass? Cheryl Mackey was crying in the band room after she got her test back, and she's like, straight a student all the way." Robin finishes flipping the chicken and goes back to chopping carrots for their salad.

"Oh, Robert O'Connell--the guy that works down at the Snack n' Go?--he saved all his tests from when he had Johnson a few years ago. Johnson never writes new ones. You give Robert 20 bucks, you can get any of the answer keys."

Robin sets the knife down and reaches into Steve's back pocket, pulling his wallet out. "Couldn't have told me this earlier?" she grouses, yanking two tens out and shoving the wallet back in his pocket.

"Hey, that's my gas money for the week!" He grabs the pot with the noodles off the stove and takes it to the colander waiting in the sink, sticking his ass out expectantly.

"You look like a hooker trying to pick up johns."

"Well give me at least half my gas money back so I don't have to sell my body to drive you and Henderson to school this week."

"Ugh, fine." She grabs his wallet again and stuffs one of the tens back into it. Then winds up one of his dish towels and smacks his rear end hard enough that he jumps about a foot in the air.

He dumps the drained noodles back into the pot and turns around to bring it back to the stove only to find that Robin is right behind him with the pot of sauce, apparently having been bringing it over to the sink. They collide, hard, and Robin screams bloody murder as hot spaghetti sauce gets dumped all down her front.

"Hot, hot, hot, fuck, hot!"

"Shit, hold on!" He all but tosses the pot of noodles back into the sink and snatches the sauce pot out of her hands. As soon as he does she's whipping off her shirt and grabbing the dish towel she hit him with, wiping off the smears of sauce that got onto her arms. "Did it burn you?" he asks, searching her torso for blisters, even though he knows at the back of his mind that the sauce was only on a simmer.

"No...no, I think I'm good. Damn, I liked that shirt, though." She straightens, glaring down at the sauce pot he slammed onto the counter.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

He holds his tongue for approximately zero point three seconds.

"Okay, then can we talk about this whole situation, cause I feel like I just got a major piece of the puzzle of why you don't have a girlfriend, yet. What the hell are you wearing?"

Robin's bra is so faded it's unclear what color it was originally, two large tears right above the elastic band.

Robin looks almost comically offended. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, are you commenting on my very comfortable and perfectly functional underwear?"

"Functional, yeah, if the function is 'never get laid ever'."

Robin crosses over to the doorway that leads to the laundry room. "We can't all exclusively wear Calvin Klein, Harrington!"

"How do you know what underwear I wear?"

"Am I wrong? Also, Jesus Christ do you own any normal shirts?"

"What's wrong with my shirts now? Hey, I'm not taking fashion advice from a girl in a, a grandma bra!"

"Hey!" She steps back out of the laundry room, wearing one of his old basketball team shirts.

They keep bickering back and forth as Steve tries to salvage dinner, eventually ending up just sitting on his kitchen counter dipping pieces of breaded chicken into the remains of the pasta sauce in the pot, having decided they really didn't want to eat spaghetti that had to be fished out of the sink.

"I'm not buying a bunch of frilly, sparkly lace just to wear under my clothes," Robin informs him. "That shit itches."

"Not saying you have to, but at least get something that doesn't look like it came out of the bottom of my gym bag."

"Eww, don't talk about your gym bag while I'm eating!"

*

It is a slow day in Family Video, and Robin has been casting him strangely intense looks since she came on shift. He restocks the shelves, picks through the candy to take home the almost expired shit to give to the kids, and is halfway through the rewinding before it finally gets to him.

"What?!" he demands. Robin blinks at him, immediately shrugging. A little too fast, actually.

"What, what?" she asks. He narrows his eyes at her and she ducks her head, pretending to find her biology textbook extremely interesting. He knows she's pretending because she hates biology. They're making her dissect a frog this quarter. After a few seconds, she slams the book shut and straightens up, determined look settling on her face.

Steve has just enough time to get a little nervous before she says, "How do you do the tongue thing?"

He blinks at her. "Uh...can you be more specific?"

She rolls her eyes. "You know...the thing! The thing with your tongue."

"I promise you, I do not know. What're you talking about?"

She looks around the store, as if some customers that they somehow haven't noticed in the last three hours might suddenly appear. Then she lowers her voice. "Like, sex things. With your tongue." She huffs a frustrated sigh. "They had to combine gym periods today 'cause Mrs. Hornby had to sub for Janson's history class, and Maryanne Greene was talking about how her boyfriend wouldn't go down on her and then Sue Rennet--you remember Sue? Apparently you dated her for, like, two weeks at the end of her Sophomore year--started talking about you and how you used to do that to her and it's the best sex she's ever had."

And oh...okay, he remembers Sue. Nice girl, a little ditzy, but she hadn't wanted to get more serious, and then Nancy had caught his eye. He can't help but puff up a little. Sure, Hawkins isn't exactly a big city overrun with choices, and judging by the talk he remembers from his own locker room days, he's a little bit of an outlier as far as being concerned with making sure his partners are having as good a time as he is...but to be called the best someone has ever had is nice.

"Don't let it go to your head," Robin says, because she can read his mind quite a lot of the time. "Just...tongue thing. You know, in case I ever do get a shot with, literally anyone."

He softens at that, reaches across the counter to ruffle her hair because it annoys her as much as it annoys him when someone does that. "You will," he says softly, and thinks that he would give almost anything, would probably happily trade any shot at happiness for himself if he could make sure Robin had someone to love her the way she deserves to be loved. He grabs one of her school notebooks and tears a sheet out, grabbing a pen out of the cup beside the computer.

"Okay, so, first things first, you can't just dive right in--gotta get the motor warmed up a little first--"

"Please don't talk in car analogies the whole time," Robin says, leaning in as he draws a crude (heh, see what he did there?) sketch of what he's going to be talking about.

"Noted. So what you're gonna do is start with a little massage around this area," he points with the end of the pen, "really take your time, get things nice and slick..."

He talks, Robin listening intently and occasionally asking questions.

"No you don't--flutter your tongue, flutter it. Here, like this..."

"Okay, vibration is good, but you're not, like, trying to blow a raspberry on her clit--"

"I said flutter!"

And that is how Lucas and Dustin find them about forty minutes later: Steve with his mouth held open wide, demonstrating what he means by fluttering his tongue while Robin stares at it like it holds the secrets of the universe, pen in hand as she takes furious notes.

In retrospect, he supposes he should be grateful that Lucas didn't immediately join Dustin on the 'Steve and Robin are totally dating' train.

*

"Shit! Steve! Wake up, it's Wednesday!"

Steve's eyes shoot open and he's vertical before he's fully awake, reaching for the nailbat propped up by his bedside table, but it's not there. It's...his bedside table isn't there either.

What the fuck, where's his bed?

"Steve!" Robin shouts, and he blinks rapidly, his surroundings resolving themselves into his...living room?

"What...Rob, what the hell? You're on winter break! You don't have school today?"

Ugh, why does his mouth taste like something died? He looks around the room, at the piles of dusty boxes that look like they came from...

Oh.

Oh yeah.

He and Robin had spent yesterday dragging the Harrington family Christmas decorations down from the attic because Robin said his house looked like a sad capitalism museum and she refused to spend the holidays in a place that didn't have a single Christmas light up. And then they'd found Steve's grandmother's recipe for homemade eggnog. And he'd maybe experimented a little bit with the liquor ratios...they must have fallen asleep on the couch.

"We don't have school but we both promised Keith we'd open all this week!" Robin shouts.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

They're still dressed in their clothes from yesterday. And they smell like a goddamn distillery. Without thinking about it, he grabs her hand and starts hauling her upstairs. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Fuck, shit, fuck!" she agrees as they rocket into the bathroom. Steve starts the water while Robin yanks clean towels out of the linen closet. "Do you have pants I can wear?" she asks, tossing the towels onto the sink and stripping out of her shirt.

"Yeah, I've got those jeans from, like, three years ago. Those fit you pretty well, right?" He tosses his own jeans and boxers towards the laundry hamper, followed by his shirt, and jumps into the shower, adjusting the temperature hotter than he likes it, because Robin's a weirdo who likes to boil herself in the mornings.

"Good enough!" Robin leaps in after him and they squeeze under the spray just long enough to get hair and body wet before separating somewhat so Robin can start scrubbing herself and he can get started on his hair. "Why didn't you set an alarm?"

"Me? Why didn't you set an alarm? You're the one who wanted to take the shifts!"

"Like you're gonna turn down holiday pay."

"It's Keith! Holiday pay probably means a buy one get one coupon to Pizza World up the highway!" He sticks his head under the water again to rinse his hair out and they switch places.

"Are you saying you wouldn't take a buy one get one coupon to Pizza World?"

"I mean...no?"

They switch places again so that Steve can rinse the soap off his body and then it's a race to get dried off, teeth brushed, dressed, and out to the car so they can get to the store in time. It's only as they are piling out of the BMW in front of Family Video that it seems to occur to them both at the same time what they just did. They both pause, mid-step and turn to each other wide-eyed.

"Huh," Steve says quietly.

"Yeah," Robin answers.

Then they shrug and continue towards the store entrance, making it in with exactly three and a half minutes to spare.

*

"Steve I really think if you're worried about this, you should be talking to a doctor, not me," Robin says, peering at a medical journal she checked out from the library spread out over her lap. "Has it changed color or shape recently?"

"I don't know, maybe? I've got so many moles, it's hard to keep track."

"Any pain or tenderness?" She reaches out and taps his hip so that he turns a little more towards the light cast by her desk lamp.

"No, definitely not. I was just having, you know, private time in the shower and it looked weird to me when I looked down."

Robin hums thoughtfully and pokes at the weird-looking mole on Steve's groin. "I mean, it doesn't look like any of these pictures of bad moles, but if you think it looks different to how it used to, you should probably get it check out regardless."

"Damn it, I was afraid you'd say that," he sighs. She shuts the medical journal and props her chin on one hand as he pulls his pants back up.

"Should I call and make the appointment?"

He huffs and flops back down onto her bed. "Yes please," he grumbles. He never remembers to write down all the appointment details.

"You want me to book something over spring break so I can go with you?"

"Nah, just whatever's available soonest. I'd rather not sit around and stress about it."

It turns out to be nothing to worry about. But three weeks later, Dustin and Max come bursting into Family Video while he and Robin are watching a new report about a brutal murder, and Steve is wishing all he had to stress about was a maybe-weird mole on his dick.

*

It's not like no one was aware that Steve and Robin were...perhaps unusually close friends. It was just never much of an issue (except to Dustin, who was obsessed with the idea of the two of them getting together) before the events of the spring of '86 and after...

Well.

Who cared how weirdly codependent Steve and Robin were when Max and Eddie had nearly died and the Upside Down was bursting up into the real Hawkins? Honestly, if that was the weirdest thing about them after all they've been through, he'd count that pretty lucky.

After everything, though--after they put Vecna/Henry Creel/One/Whatever in the fucking ground, after they do what Steve was beginning to think was impossible and seal the Upside Down away from them forever, after Max is as recovered as she's ever going to be (she's probably never going to be able to get a driver's license even with glasses, and her doctors tell them the leg braces and crutches might have to be permanent, but she's alive...she's alive, she's alive, she's alive), after Robin finally feels safe enough to come out to the group at large, after Steve spends an entire week holed up in his room screaming into his pillow while Robin patted his back consolingly before marching down to Eddie's new (government-funded) trailer and announcing that it turns out he likes both and would Eddie please go on a date with him...

He thinks maybe Eddie didn't quite understand what he was getting into when he agreed almost before Steve was done asking him out.

"Uh...hey guys," Eddie says slowly, taking in the picture he and Robin present in Steve's kitchen. There's a bag of cucumbers, a few eggplants, and several bananas spread out on the island in front of them. Robin has a tape measure and a homemade pamphlet acquired from a very exclusive shop they traveled to Indianapolis to visit last weekend. Steve is holding up two of the cucumbers for comparison. "What's, uh, what's going on here?"

Steve and Robin exchange a look. Then Steve jumps up and snatches the tape measure out of her hands. "Perfect! Here, Eds, lemme measure you." He reaches for Eddie's belt, only to freeze with a look of annoyance when his boyfriend jumps back with a yelp.

"Whoa! Whoa, hey, baby, I have no idea what you're talking about and also Robbie's right there!"

"What? Oh it's fine, Rob and I have seen each other naked plenty of times."

"Ask me about the time we accidentally showered together," Robin pipes up with a grin.

"Wait, no...wait, what? How do you accidentally shower together?" Eddie asks incredulously. Then he shakes his head. "Wait, no! No, not important. Robin has never seen me naked, and I am not whipping my dick out in front of your best friend so you can measure it! And why do you want to measure it?"

"Well I was trying to just guesstimate how big you are," Steve says, gesturing to the array of produce on the island, "but it'll be easier if I can just get the numbers from the source."

"Why do you need exact measurements of my dick?!" Eddie's eyes have gone wide as dinner plates, his voice reaching an octave usually reserved for his female NPC's in his nerd game. Steve huffs.

"Babe, you said you want to fuck me, but like, all these guides say we should work up to it." He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder at the pamphlet that Robin is now helpfully holding up. "So I'm gonna figure out exactly how big you are, and then Rob and I are gonna go up to this shop we found in Indy and get some of these toys. It's supposed to help me get used to things being, you know, up there."

Robin nods seriously.

Eddie looks at him. Looks at Robin. Looks back at him.

Steve has never seen someone look touched and horrified at the same time. Eddie rakes a hand back through his hair and sighs.

"What...what measurements do you need, exactly?"

[badaseyebags]

private lessons ⋆｡°✩ chapter 2 ⟢

fluffy, suggestive, smut in upcoming chapters

word count: 3k+ (phew)

warnings: very obvious power dynamics, just some making out, a bit of begging, lots of praise, lots of pet names, BADA CALLS HERSELF MOMMY!!!! aaaa

author’s note: i’m back 😳 i’m sorry that this took much longer then i expected, pls don’t block me 😞 i hope this is readable and not too disappointing @-@ i promise there’s actual smut coming soon! feel free to leave some feedback/suggestions! thank you so much for reading ♡ -booger 🍞

with one last glance in the mirror you gathered the remainder of your courage and slipped on your shoes, grabbing your purse with shaky hands. why were you so nervous? it’s not like you’re going over to her house to get bent over. you’re simply going to get tutored. unfortunately you remind yourself why you’re in this position in the first place, due to your lack of concentration during her classes. you sigh shaking your head, applying a second coat your favourite lipgloss nonetheless, just for good measures! was it too much? was it obvious you put in a little more effort than you usually do? would she notice? why would she? and why do you even care so much in the first place? she’s just a teacher after all..

she had texted you the address and you realised she actually lived a bit further, which is probably why she offered to come pick you up in the first place, not wanting to inconvenience her any further you politely refused. maybe you were starting to regret it knowing it’ll take a long time to get there by bus, and you’ll most likely be late.. late to your first ever tutoring class, what a great way to start. woohoo!

you put your headphones on, making your way into the bus and finding an empty seat all the way in the back. that way you could have some privacy to collect yourself before you meet her. actually.. that wasn’t really working and you began getting more nervous so you decided to pull out your notebook to mindlessly doodle for the time being. it turned out quite cute you thought to yourself, staring at the sketch, imagining those two figures kissing were you and her. oh no, you’re doing it again. you and your stupid imagination! and that’s not even the first time you caught yourself doing something so silly. you close your notebook shoving it back into your bag, just a few stops away from your destination. phew. time to actually collect yourself!

with wobbly knees you make your way to her apartment, palms sweaty as you smooth them over your skirt. 10 minutes, you’re 10 minutes late.. would she notice? she’s having a day off that she sacrificed specifically to help you, and you dare come late? oh no, you’re definitely screwed. you start panicking as guilt washes over you, practicing your apology in your head, accidentally ringing her doorbell in the process. fuck. you didn’t mean to do that just yet, you weren’t ready. if you’re fast enough you can just ru-

you heard the door nob turning, soon revealing a tall slim figure in front of you. “oh miss y/n! you decided to show up after all, and here i thought you didn’t need my help anymore” she teases giving you a half smile making your heart jump, not only due to you being late, but because of how effortlessly attractive she looked with her two toned hair tied back into a messy loose braid, complimenting her light blue button up paired with some slacks. not to mention the sound of her half groggy voice calling out your name and the way it slid past her lips so smoothly.

“h-hello mrs. lee i am so sorry for being late! i didn’t”before you could finish your apology she chuckled, shaking her head. “no need to apologise sweetie, i was just teasing a little. come on in, make yourself at home.” you blink up at her, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. you just greeted her and messed up? damn already? was it because she called you sweetie?! god, you’re hopeless.

“i won’t bite.” she chuckled again, walking into her apartment leaving you with no choice but to follow behind her, timidly shutting the door as you entered. you swore you could hear her quietly mumble something under her breath, but you decided it was your twisted mind playing tricks on you once again. for the sake of your sanity. “here here, have a seat. care for some tea? coffee perhaps?” she pulls out a chair for you and this small gesture alone has your heart fluttering for no reason. you look down shyly, taking a seat and avoiding her gaze. “i..uh.. anything is fine, thank you.” you mumble trying not to keep yourself composed. she smiles nodding as she reaches for the jar of instant coffee. “i haven’t had my coffee yet, since i wasn’t sure if you’d like to drink some with me. do you like yours with milk, sugar?” was she calling you sugar or was she asking you whether or not you wanted sugar in your coffee? …and she waited for you to have coffee? yeah, as if. you need to stop being delusional. “miss y/n?” she glanced back at you knocking you of out your prolonged silence. “i-i would like both please.. i like my coffee s-sweet” you close your eyes in embarrassment as another stutter leaves your clumsy lips. you swear you never stutter. she chuckles in response as she prepares your drink. “we are quite the opposite, i prefer mine black.” she gives you a soft smile, sitting down across from you, setting your drink in front of you. you mutter a shy thank you as your hands reach for the spoon, mixing some sugar into the warm beverage. “oh that’s nothing, i usually make really good coffee but my coffee machine broke recently so.. instant coffee will have to do for now.” you nod quickly, fingers gripping the handle and side of the cup. “that’s fine! any coffee is good! i actually prefer instant it’s not like i know much about coffee anyways-” your lips are faster then your brain causing you to blurt out such a fact about you, which only made her smile wider. “oh we really are opposites, maybe i could change your mind once i make you a proper cup, hm?” you blush nodding fast in agreement, did that mean you’d be seeing her more then just this one time? you try to calm your nerves by bringing the cup to your lips, taking a little sip. maybe it’s better to keep your mouth busy so you don’t end up embarrassing yourself even more.

“so y/n… just how much experience do you really have?” she also brings her own cup to her lips, eyes fixated on yours. your eyes widen, the coffee you tried swallowing getting stuck in the back of your throat at her question, resulting you in coughing out loud making her put her cup down and lean towards you in worry. “are you alright sweetie? was it too hot? did it burn you?” you cover your mouth, calming yourself down as you shake your head noticing bada is very professional and calm despite asking such a personal question.

maybe you are too shy after all and you should be more open when it comes to talking about your sex life. people do it all the time, it’s totally natural. you hear others talk about it all the time. but then again why would she ask you such a private question out of nowhere? maybe she’s just a very social person, this is how adults talk and there shouldn’t be shame. it’s not like you ever talked about sexual things with anyone, but you know others do. like with their friends, parents, therapists, lovers.. you just need to get over the embarrassment and step out of your shell, you could learn a lot from her, be as mature as she is, even when it comes to such topics. she sure wouldn’t judge you no matter what, she’s a teacher after all. “i’m fine! i’m just.. not too good at talking about such topics.. but i… well…i don’t have much experience… none at all actually. that’s really embarrassing to admit. others my age have already done so.. many times.. maybe i am really slow or something..” you chew on your bottom lip, struggling to keep your head up to look at her, choosing to look into your cup instead. if you could see your own reflection in the coffee you’re sure your face would be beet red by now. that’s when bada herself chokes a little as your unexpected response.

you totally misinterpreted what she was asking. she was asking about your experience on the subject she was supposed to tutor you on, not your sexual experience. did she give you the wrong impression? was she being too obvious with her interest in you? were her flirting attempts not as subtle as she attempted? no way, with how empty headed you are they probably flew right past you, she thought. well.. it’s not like she wasn’t curious about that in the first place, but she wouldn’t have asked so suddenly. however, she didn’t have the heart to embarrass you like that by correcting you and telling you that you misunderstood her question.

she just cleared her throat and went along with it. was she willing to risk it all? this made her want to corrupt you even more, but she can’t. not yet. you made her lose her composure. she needed to fix that and get back in charge. she won’t let it, let you, fluster her. “sweetie..there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. that’s exactly what i’m here for.” she decided to test out the waters, see if you were as submissive and truly empty minded around her as she painted you to be. her hand was itching to get a feel of your skin, she was struggling to fight it. she needs to take this slow she reminds herself, she doesn’t want to scare you away. but it seems like you’re already falling into her trap. your eyes instantly snap up to meet hers, to make sure weather you heard her correctly.

“it would be such a pity if you left without learning anything.. wouldn’t that make me a bad teacher, hm?” she furrows her brows in faux sympathy as her hand finally reaches out, gently cupping your cheek making you look up at her. you gasp at the sudden contact and your current situation. “oh y-yeah… i’m here to be tutored-“ you try to avoid her gaze, once again looking down in embarrassment. your nervousness made you think of studying again, which is the reason she invited you over. right? you must be totally misunderstanding this. you’re just being delusional, you tell yourself.

despite you both sitting down she visibly towered over you, not just in her height, but in her presence alone. you could feel her knees ever so gently pressing against your own if you weren’t trying so hard to distract yourself.

was she sitting so close to you from the start?

she scoffs in amusement, her lips forming a fake frown. “oh you poor little thing.. you really thought i wouldn’t notice the way you look at me during class? that i can’t see right through that pretty little head of yours? you’re a smart girl y/n, we both know you don’t actually have a issue with learning..” your cheeks heat up as you’re forced to meet her gaze that looks more intimidating then ever. she just exposed you. she knew it this whole time. you didn’t think your crush on her was that visible. your lips part to speak but no words come out making her grin. her thumb slides past your bottom lip ever so gently, almost knocking the air out your lungs. “i think.. you could do so much better, all you need is just a little motivation.” she hovers over you, her thumb now reaching the corner of your lips, collecting the remainder of coffee and bringing it up to her own lips. her eyes flutter shut momentarily, licking her thumb clean and savouring the flavour with a hum. “so sweet indeed..” she hooks her pointer finger under your chin, making you look up at her. chuckling softly she leans in further, her thumb stroking just below your bottom lip as her eyes trail from your eyes to your lips and back. “are you gonna let me have a taste, doll?”

you gulp, your own eyes focused on her lips, slowly nodding as you look up at her. “now now, wouldn’t that be too easy?” she leans in closer, lips near your ear. “you’ll have to be a good girl and ask for it.” your mouth goes completely dry as you gulp. your hands clutch a fist full of your skirt, tension so thick it could cut air separating you two. you mutter under your breath, scared your voice will betray you. “mrs. lee.. could you.. umm.. can you kiss me?” you shut your eyes tight, hoping she would kiss you then and there. instead you only hear a dry chuckle.

you open your eyes, attention on her as she tucks a stray hair behind your ear, confusion painted on your face. “thats not how a good girl asks. not even a please? now that’s not very polite, is it? i’m starting to think you don’t deserve it.” you whine shaking your head. “no no i’m sorry! please… please kiss me?” you look up at her desperately. “aww you want a kiss that bad?” she coos cupping your cheek, smirking at the heat of it against her hand. you nod fast, leaning into her touch, totally submitting to her.

“use your words, tell mommy what you want.” she raises her brow, waiting for you to finally say it. your cheeks feel like they’re on fire now, heart beating faster then before as you stumble over your own words. “m-mommy?” you shyly repeat after her, eyes widening, cheeks painted red. you could see the shift in her eyes, and the way it affected her.

she closes her eyes for a little, biting her lip almost as if she’s savouring the sound of your voice calling her that. “how fucking cute.” she rests her thumb against your bottom lip, softly pulling it down. “doing such a good job begging mommy for a kiss…” you close your eyes tightly at her praise, almost whining from such a small action. she leans in, her lips just a few millimetres away from your own. you could feel her breath against your lips, covering your skin in goosebumps. she keeps one of her hands against your cheek, while the other rests against the top of the chair you’re sitting on. she gives your cheek a soft stroke before finally connecting both of your lips.

her soft plump lips smashing against yours felt like a reward. it felt like they were on fire, the way your lips burnt when she pressed her own against them. her fingers against your skin were so gentle, tracing the outline of your cheek, barely touching your skin as if you were made of glass. her lips were telling a different story as her kisses only deepened. you didn’t know what to do with your hands so you loosely griped the fabric of her blouse. she felt you fidgeting and decided to slide one of her hands down to reach for your hand, giving them a soft squeeze before wrapping them around her neck. this gave her the opportunity to drag her hands down your body as she scooped you up in her arms. without breaking the kiss she lifted you and placed you on the table next to her, making you wrap your arms around her tighter. she experimentally dragged her tongue against your bottom lip so gently, your lips parted in surprise. she smirked sneaking her tongue inside your parted lips that granted her access. you let out a little whimper at the feeling of your tongues gliding against each other. you could almost taste the bitterness of the coffee aftertaste mixing with your sweet one and for once, it was delicious. you were everything she wanted and she wanted.. needed more. eager to be closer to you, one of her hands slid down your thigh, slightly parting them as she pushed herself in between, she just couldn’t get enough. with one of her large hands hand stroking the outer side of your thigh, and other one playing with your hair you couldn’t help but shiver in her touch. it was like she was devouring you whole. your body feeling so soft and tiny pressed up against hers. it was driving her insane. she pulled away breathing heavy, admiring your flushed face and slightly messed up hair, remainders of your lipstick smeared all over your lips as you look at her with what she could only describe as hearts in your eyes.

fuck, she’s so screwed. she knows it’s over for her. you wrapped her around your pretty little finger and you didn’t even know about it. heck, you didn’t even have to do anything. you submit to her so easily and that was more then she needed. there’s no way she could just return to just being your teacher, she had to make you hers. you pout slightly as she pulls away, already reaching for her, wanting to feel her lips against yours again. you got her heart beating as hard as she made yours. subconsciously shivering in her arms. as she leans in placing gentle pecks on your lips followed by your cheeks, so much more gentle and affectionate then she was just moments ago. “mommy has to stop before she gets too greedy..” she breathes out as she cleans your messed up lips with her thumb, knowing what she meant you nod, still leaning into her touch. she pressed a final kiss to your lips before pulling you into her embrace, your head in her chest, hands soothing your back.

“let me drive you home precious, it’s way too late for you to be going out on your own.” she gently pats your head, before she realises. “you didn’t bring any jacket with you?” you shake your head at her question, once again fidgeting with your skirt, slightly swinging your feet back and forth as they dangled off the table. “i’m not letting you leave like this.” you blush looking up at her as she brings you her sweater that is much bigger on you then it is on her. she taps your arms signalling you to raise them which you do, making her smile as she dresses you up. “how cute..” she admires you for a moment, fighting back the urge to squeeze you in her arms before offering you her hand which you accept as she helps you off the table. unable to keep her hands off you, she’s smoothing her hands over your clothes in attempt to fix them. “are you ready to go, pretty girl?” she pecks your nose, grabbing her keys as she grabs your hand. you giggle nodding as your heart flutters at her treatment, clinging onto her arm, letting you guide you to her car.

of course she opened the door for you and closed it after you sat down before she got in herself. of course she told you to keep the sweater because she wants to see you in it more often. of course she told you to keep this a secret as she pecked your forehead goodbye. of course your head was filled with nothing but her as you laid in your bed, wearing nothing but her sweater as you drifted into slumber, hoping you could see her even in your dreams, the scenes from earlier on repeat. you were starting to really look forward to these private lessons..

[lovekz]

what does he have that I don’t?

syn -> rindou is in shambles after you reject him.

warnings : heartbroken, rindou has low self esteem, angst, no happy ending, not proofread

-

“I’m sorry, I don’t like you like that.”

six words rindou dreaded hearing.

he stood before you, holding a basket of your favorite things and a stupid teddy bear.

just to hear those words leave your mouth.

embarrassment settles in before heartbreak does.

he’d gone all out, gone to all your favorite places and even got advice from ran.

to hear you say those words, and watch your face make that goddamn expression.

it looked like you were disgusted with him, just a little bit.

the basket hangs by his thigh, rindou unable to swallow.

“I-I have a boyfriend already.” you whispered to him, moving closer.

he stops you in his tracks when he tosses the basket into the sidewalk.

the bear is now dirty, and the sweets scatter all over the floor.

the candle shattered into pieces.

rindou walks away. the walk of shame, he thinks.

he can hear you calling after him, but he doesn’t turn around for you.

why didn’t he know you had someone?

why had everyone always been so much better than him each time?

he walked all the way home in silence, and even then he slouched on the doorstep.

he couldnt go inside.

ran would tease the absolute shit out of him.

-

“rindou! come out!” ran called, banging on his brother’s door.

when rindou made it in the house, he went straight to his room and didn’t come out until he had to pee or brush his teeth.

and shower, of course.

ran wasn’t sure if he was eating, or what had happened.

but he got a pretty good idea when he realized you had stopped coming over.

you rejected him, and you weren’t nice about it.

in his eyes at least.

rindou won’t respond, won’t even make a noise.

after his shower, he’d just sit in his bed and stare at his torn up room.

wondering why he couldn’t be better and what was wrong with him.

what made you give him that look?

was he ugly? did he have boogers?

or was it just his face that was so unattractive that you possibly lied?

ran had given up trying to reach rindou after a few days, letting mope in his room by himself.

but today, ran was actually leaving the house.

a few knocks on his door caught his attention, not like he cared though.

he won’t leave.

“I don’t know if you’re awake rin.. but I’m going to izana’s house. you’ll have the house to yourself. I’ll bring you back food if you want?” ran suggested.

when he didn’t receive a response, ran sighed and began walking down the steps.

a door opening caught his attention, making the older turn around.

rindou was standing there, dressed with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

him being in pajamas was besides the point.

“can I come with you?” rindou asked quietly.

if ran knew inviting him to izana’s house would get him out the room, he would’ve done it ages ago.

-

when they get there, izana immediately beams at the sight of rindou.

“dude where’ve you been? I’ve been texting and calling.” izana complains, letting them in.

rindou doesn’t respond to him, immediately walking into the living room and sitting in the free seat next to kakucho.

izana’s brothers, mikey and shinichiro, were sitting on the couch playing cod.

rindou gives a short greeting, and offers a fist bump to kakucho.

ran slouches on the floor beside izana, having idle conversation about something rindou doesn’t bother to understand.

it’s only when izana finishes talking, he notices his brothers.

“what the hell? why are you playing my game?!” izana complains, looking at the two.

“just chill izana. I’m gonna get off when my girl gets here.” mikey says idly, never looking away from the game.

kakucho had only given shinichiro the controller so he could try.

izana rolls his eyes and slouches in his seat, complaining lowly under his breath.

the door bell rings loudly and mikey launches the controller at izana, who catches it.

the boy damn near dies going to open it, a big smile on his face.

rindou hears the two talking, before the conversation grows louder.

although his attention is on the tv, he knows your voice pretty well.

your supposed boyfriend was mikey, izana’s brother.

and of course, you notice him desperately hiding in kakucho’s shadow.

“rindou?” you call quietly, blinking to see if you’d seen correct.

he nods, not offering you a glance or a greeting.

he doesn’t know if his heart could handle it.

“you guys know each other?” mikey asks, looking between the two of you.

“no.” “yes.” the two of you say in sync, rindou’s heart swelling even more.

you look upset that rindou had claimed he hadn’t known you, which he obviously has.

izana had put two and two together, sitting next to ran and nudging him with his jaw on the floor.

everyone knew the two of you knew each other, except for mikey himself.

“we know each other. can I talk to you for a sec?” you say, a hint of hurt in your voice.

rindou sighs quietly, before stepping outside to talk with you.

ran calls for a group huddle immediately.

-

the two of you sit outside, waiting for one another to speak.

though rindou doesn’t have anything to say.

you sigh, taking a deep breath and being the bigger person.

“where have you been?” you start off, looking at him from your knees.

“been home.” rindou responds, not too interested in the conversation.

you squint your eyes in confusion.

you had been over to the haitani house multiple times and never got a response from him.

it was always ran answering or no one at all.

“I’ve been calling. and visiting you.” you explain, frowning a bit.

“phones dead.” rindou shrugs, leaning back into the seat and rocking it back and forth.

not only had rindou broken his charger, but he broke his phone after realizing.

it was one of the many reasons he hasn’t answered anyone’s texts or calls.

though even if it wasn’t broken, he’s sure he’d just watch it ring like he did on the first day.

he didn’t wanna upset you with his face again

“why did you say you don’t know me?” you questioned, growing aggravated.

“cause I don’t.” rindou responds, still sounding uninterested.

but the more you listen, it doesn’t sound like he’s uninterested.

it sounds like he isn’t there, emotionally or mentally.

maybe even physically, but you weren’t sure.

“don’t you have a sentence to say? not two or three words?” you scoff, looking at him more offended than you ever have.

“what does he have that I don’t?” rindou questions, finally growing aggravated with you.

you stay silent, looking at rindou with shock.

it was the first time tonight he had looked at you, and he looked like he was in pain.

he definitely wasn’t as there as you thought he was before this.

he looked faded, like he wasn’t paying attention.

and maybe he wasn’t.

“rin-“ “what is it? does he treat you better? does he dress better? is he funnier? huh?” rindou cuts you off, listing things.

he was rambling now.

talking about mikey’s haircut, his bike, his gang, his face shape, his height, anything that could come to mind.

only you realize that he started to cry in the middle of it.

you had really hurt his feelings, just by saying a few words and making a face.

he stops in the middle of, hiding his face in his hands.

you rub his back as he cried, not sure of what else to do to help him.

“how long have you been together?” rindou asks, curious and having a clear enough head.

“..a month, but I’ve known him since september.” you whisper, sniffing to yourself.

rindou nodded, standing up from his seat.

“I have loved you for a year, seven months, and ten days. you’ve only known him for two.” rindou states, not sparing you a glance.

he doesn’t wait for a response, beginning to walk back into the house.

you grab his arm, stilling him in his spot. you didn’t want him to go.

“are you okay rindou?” you questioned, frowning at his facial expression.

he looked completely gone.

he pauses for a minute, before snatching his arm out of your desperate hands.

“your boyfriend is waiting.” rindou says, before walking back into the house and leaving you outside.

the breeze picks up, making you wonder if you made the right choice.

-

when rindou walks in the house, he’s alone.

emma’s in the kitchen, stirring something in a new pot.

she wasn’t there when rindou walked in the first time, but he couldn’t be sure.

he had his head down to look at his shoes and count his steps.

she notices him immediately though, beaming a smile at him.

“hey rindou. heard you weren’t feeling well, so I’m making soup.” emma says, gesturing to the pot.

rindou nods, offering her a smile. “thank you emma, but you don’t have to.” rindou replied.

emma shakes her head and shoos him away.

she reminds him of his mother sometimes when she does little things like this.

rindou makes his way upstairs to izana’s room, ignoring the eyes watching him from the living room.

it was mikey, rindou realized. but it hadn’t mattered.

rindou knew he didn’t stand a chance.

when he makes it to izana’s room, they were all laying around relaxing.

“oh hey rin. how’d it go?” kakucho said, looking up at him.

rindou shrugs, dropping on the floor next to izana.

izana nudges him playfully, shooting him a smile.

“em’s making that soup you like.” izana saids, wiggling his shoulders.

“I know.” rindou says, leaning his head back a bit.

ran doesn’t say anything, sprawled out on izana’s bed with his hands folded over his stomach.

and it’s best that he doesn’t.

“don’t worry rin. 10 years from now, she’s gonna have five kids and be miserable.” izana says, nudging him again.

the sound of it makes rindou chuckle.

he’ll just have to pray he can get over you.

[jedi-luca]

Avenger Lane Chapter 10: Bad Romance

Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention? 

Parings: Quinn Fabray x Reader / eventual Natasha x Reader(slow burn)

Warnings: Reader has a Penis, mentions of drug use

Previous Chapter. Next chapter

You were sound asleep when the door busted open. You gasped, jolting awake still half asleep.

“Oh my gosh!” Quinn gasped, falling out of bed thankful you both had clothes on.

“Happy boythday papa!” Finley beamed holding a cup cake and Beth holding breakfast.

“Aw thanks sugar booger.” You say sleepily as your daughters climb up in bed.

“Mom, can you light it please?” Beth urged her mom handing her the lighter.

“Hmhm.” Quinn blinked awake taking the cup cake and setting it on Beth’s table. 

Finley climbed up on the bed with a huge smile on her face. “Papa, it’s your boythday! Yayyyyy!” She clapped.

“Hmhm.” You yawned, smiling.

Quinn smiled sleepily as she and the girls began singing happy birthday.

“And many more on channel 4, and scooby do on channel 2, and a big fat lady on channel 80, and all the rest on CBS!” Beth giggled, finishing along with a great attempt from her little sister.

“Aw thank you sweets.” You smiled, kissing all of your girls on the cheek. 

You lift the cinnamon waffle and give your daughters a piece as well as your wife before eating yours.

“Hmmm tasty!” Finley hummed.

“I’m still hungry… I think I need a little girl to eat!” You began tickling Finley and Beth’s laughter filling the house. 

Quinn recorded all of it on her phone and posted it on social media. Where your neighbor Natasha just watched. You looked so happy and so did the girls. The secret Tony gave her is eating her up inside.

Nat turned her head seeing you snuggling with your family as you all watched a movie.

‘Ugh how am I supposed to tell Y/N?’ she thought to herself.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

So far your birthday was going great. You spoke to your parents for a while, leaving out the tidbit of Quinn getting pregnant. You were coming back from dinner after dropping off your daughters with their aunt when you opened the front door.

“SURPRISE!!!!” 

You jolted in place, placing a hand over your heart with a grin. “Aww guys!” They’re were streamers everywhere and a large banner that read ‘Happy Birthday’

“Surprise motha fucka!” Santana and Brittany jumped you.

“Oof!” You felt the air leave your lungs feeling Santana give you a hug.

“Happy birthday best friend.” Mike smiled, taking the next hug.

“Thanks man.” You grinned.

Soon the gleeks all hugged you at once finally allowing your new found friends to get in on the love.

First Tony, the Barton’s, Steve, Peggy, and Bucky of course. Thor lifts you up along with Val and Carol. The Stranges nodding towards you. You completely forgot about them. They’re the only ones your wife truly liked. Truthfully you found Steven Strange a bit of an ass thankfully his wife keeps him in check.

Wanda and Vis, May and Happy. The Quills, Scott and Hope, Shaun and Kate, Marc and Layla, but the best was for last.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” Natasha smiled softly, hugging you close.

“Thanks Nat.” You squeezed her back.

Quinn loudly clapped her hands, startling you. “Alright drinks and karaoke time!”

You let go of Natasha and all of you made your way to the back.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“Hey I was wondering where you went off too.” Natasha smiled seeing you in the kitchen.”

“Just needed a breather.” You muttered vaping your weed pen.

“Sure it wasn’t because Rachel is singing with Quinn?” The redhead kinked her brow.

“…No.” You muttered drinking the rest of your drink. You were crossfaded and ready to get shit faced.

“Hmhm.” The redhead chuckled sitting on the counter where you were leaning.

You grinned looking down at her jean covered legs.

“I got you something.” She said softly, taking it out of her pocket.

“Whhhat? You shouldn’t have.” You chuckled, taking the small box in your hand. You unwrapped it, opened the box and took out a necklace with the initials of your daughters on it.

“If you look through the top you’ll see them.” She smiled watching your jaw drop. You could see a picture of you and your little girls from the time you were in Natasha’s pool.

“Nat this is… thank you. I love it.” You chuckled, hugging her tightly against you. “It’s a really thoughtful and sweet gift. I love it.” You hand her the necklace to place it on you. She leaned in, unclasping the hook before placing it on you and leaning back again. 

“You’re welcome.” She said softly, you were both close and you don’t know if it’s her scent or being crossfaded but you have an urge to take her like a caveman. God, you get so horny when you drink. Her arms are still loosely hanging around your neck. You’re so close between her legs she can feel your bulge growing she leans in lightly kissing your cheek. “Happy birthday.” 

“Thank you…Where is Bruce?” You ask softly, stepping closer feeling her legs nudge you closer.

Natasha shrugs, she doesn’t have the energy to lie, not when she’s buzzed and can smell your scent.

“He doesn’t deserve you Nat.” You say boldly caressing her cheek.

She’s just going to tell you. Tell you her marriage is a sham, tell you that Quinn is the one that doesn’t deserve you. The words are on the edge of her lips when you start leaning closer “Y/N-” She husks arching her back ever so lightly to lighten the ache between her legs.

“You deserve so much better.” 

“The same could be said for you.” She whispers her hands now cupping our cheeks. She can feel how hard you are and God she just wants you to take her right there on the counter with your bitchy wife right outside. She arches once more so she can rub herself against you ever so slightly. You both hold eye contact as your hands hook beneath her legs. You’re both so close to pouncing one another when the back door opens. You both feel like the bubble has been burst. You both clear your throats as she pats your chest gently pushing you back a bit so she can get down. You turn slightly to rearrange your package discreetly.

“Hey Y/N.” Rachel cleared her throat, eyeing Natasha. “Quinn is looking for you.”

“Right.” You sigh softly remembering who you are married to. You feel a little sick thinking of the way you almost just ruined it due to a buzz. You walk away without giving Natasha another look afraid Rachel will sniff out what just transpired.

“So Quinn is right, you do want Y/N. It’s funny how they’re onto us yet they haven’t done anything about it.” Rachel says softly looking around the kitchen.

“Truly do not know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry, who are you?” Natasha furrowed her brow.

“I’m Rachel Berry.” The small brunette looked almost offended; everyone who had watched a musical or walked down Broadway knew her. “I started the glee club. Went to school with Quinn and Y/N. Tony award winning actress?”

“Ahh I see.”

“You know…” Rachel walks closer standing next to the Russian redhead. For once she met someone who was her height. “Maybe we could work together?” The starlet shrugged.

Natasha’s eyes widened realizing what she was implying.

“I can admit they would be better off divorced. Don’t you think?” Rachel furrowed her brow. “They’re both obviously unhappy.”

“I think you may be a little crazy.” Natasha chuckled, starting to walk past Rachel.

“Call me crazy but I see the way you look at Y/N, and I saw the way Y/N looked at you. You were seconds away from christening this countertop. You almost had Y/N. Almost. Your demise was doing it here in the kitchen. You’d have to do it somewhere no one would barge in and catch you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N and I are friends. I am married.”

“Hmm. Hmhm. If it helps I’ve never seen Y/N look at any woman like that before. Not even Quinn. If we work together we could have them ya know… it wouldn’t take much. Their marriage has been threatening to crumble for a year now.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you’re implying breaking up a marriage it’s sickening.”  Natasha gripped the handle when Rachel stopped her.

“I know you want Y/N. I’m not afraid to tell you I want Quinn. I’ve wanted her since high school. Y/N treats Quinn great no doubt but Quinn? The same can’t be said for her and everyone knows it. Just think about it huh? This little convo stays between us.” With that Rachel slips out of the back door like a snake as Natasha stands there in shock.

Natasha steadied her breathing a lot just happened and she needs to go back outside and act like it didn’t. God she has so much to tell you now and no idea how to do it.

The door opens again this time revealing Wanda. 

“Hey, there you are! Come on Y/N is about to play us a song Quinn got them a new guitar… are you okay?” Wanda quickly notices that her best friend was absolutely not okay. 

“I have so much to tell you.” Natasha sighed.

“Do you wanna get out of here and talk about it at my place?”

“No, no, I want to watch Y/N play. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“Okay.” Wanda hugs her best friend tightly, helping her relax a bit. “Come on, I'll make you a drink.”

They both make their way back to the party when you are getting ready to play. Tina is back on bass, Blaine is on the keyboard, and although you’re missing Finn on drums Carol takes up the mantle claiming to be a drum God.

“Hey dude you okay?” Mike asked as you took a bump of coke. “How’d you even get that?”

“Santana.” You mutter taking a shot.

“Hey I haven’t seen you this way since Finn died. What happened?” He asks, taking you aside making you put the joint down.

“I think I almost just fucked up my marriage.” You hissed.

“With who?” Mike’s eyes widened. This was not you whatsoever. You lived for your family, you would never be the type to cheat.

“Nat.” You whisper.

“Oh wow. What happened?”

“She gave me a gift and I… Mike I got bricked up and we almost… We almost kissed and if we had I would have-” You inhale deeply about to have a panic attack.

“Heyyy whoa… Breathe.” He said holding your shoulders. “In.” He inhaled with you. “Now out.” He exhaled, nodding. “That’s it. Listen bud you didn’t cheat. Did you almost… yeah probably but you didn’t. You’re high and buzzed. I know Brittany gave you a mushroom you microdosed with her, vaping from your pen, drinking, and I don’t even know how much coke you’ve been doing. The thing is you’re out of it right now. It meant nothing.”

“I don’t know Mike.” You shook your head. “I was so close to ruining everything.”

“Hey stop it. It’s your birthday. You got carried away. You both probably won’t even remember this tomorrow. Now take a deep breath and go play your heart out.”

“Mike… Do you think Quinn doesn’t deserve me?”

Mike’s eyes widened a bit in a state of shock.

“Do you think I made a mistake marrying her? My parents did… Finn did…Sersi and now Nat-”

“Hey come on you’re spiraling.”

“But-” 

“You’re spiraling.” Mike shook his head. 

“Hey there you are!” Quinn smiled.

“Come on, everyone wants to hear you play!”

Quinn ushers you on the patio platform in front of the mic.

“I just want to thank all of you for coming out tonight. Thank you to my wife for setting this all up. Thank you all for the gifts and the drinks-”

“The drugs!” Santana cackled Quinn glaring at her.

The neighbors all chuckled. “I’ll take some!” Tony laughed as Pepper smacked his arm. “Ow honey I’m kidding.”

“Anyway thanks for letting me jam out with my old band. This one goes out to Finn I really fucking miss you man.” 

“Here here!” Mike clapped with the rest of the gleeks.

You pour one out for your old best friend before downing another shot.

You turn around counting with your band. Carol nodded and began drumming the first few beats before you and Tina joined in shredding it up.

“All her signals are getting lost in the ether

(That's what she wanted) 

She's a landslide with a city beneath her

(That's what she wanted)

So take a good look so you'll never forget it

(That's what she wanted)

Take a deep breath, I know I'm gonna regret it

(That's what she wanted)

Holly's lookin' dry, lookin' for an easy target

Let her slit my throat, give her ammo if she'll use it

Caution on the road, lies, lies and hidden danger

Southern Ohio’s breeding mommy's little monster

She's got a mission, and I'm collateral damage

(That's what she wanted)

She's the flower that you place on my casket

(That's what she wanted)

Savor the moment 'cause the memory's fleeting

Take a photograph as the last train is leaving”

Quinn always hated this song; she just knew you were singing about her. How could you not? 

“Holly's lookin' dry, lookin' for an easy target

Let her slit my throat, give her ammo if she'll use it

Caution on the road, lies, lies and hidden danger

Southern Ohio’s breeding mommy's little monster

“Think she’s singing about Quinn?” Tony asked leaning up to speak to Natasha. The redhead nodded, not saying a word. Truthfully she’s still thinking about what almost happened.

“(Better run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me out

(Better run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me out

(Better run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me out

(Better run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me ouuuut!”

“Yeahh!” Tony cheered loudly, clapping his hands.

“Damn I didn’t know Y/N could jam like a rockstar!” Sam chuckled.

“Kind of sexy.” Bucky muttered.

“Really?” Steve huffed.

“Okay but they’re super gay right?” Kurt whispered to his husband eyeing Steve and Bucky. 

“You can see it from space.” Blaine nodded.

“Poor Peggy.” They cringed seeing her sit next to her husband.

“Alright I'm gonna need my wife, Kurt, Mercedes, and Santana to come up here.”

You turn around briefly whispering to your band mates before turning around and strumming your guitar.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance. Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

“Ahhh this is my song bitch!” Santana laughed as the rest of the women and Kurt stand around the mic.

Everyone began to cheer before singing along. It was always a hit. Thankfully the gleeks remember whose part is whose.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance!” Kurt sang.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance” everyone sang next.

“I want your ugly, I want your disease I want your everything as long as it's free I want your love” Tina sang before moving so Mercedes could sing next.

“Love, love, love, I want your love (hey) I want your drama, the touch of your hand (hey) I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand I want your love

“Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

Quinn stood next to you and began singing the part that always drove you crazy.

 “You know that I want you And you know that I need youI want it bad, your bad romance.” She bit your ear before you sang next looking right at Natasha.

“I want your love, and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) I want your love and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

Natasha gulped, were you sending her a message or was this just ironic? 

“Oh my god what happened in that house Y/N was totally singing to you!” Wanda hissed near her ear.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Nat muttered.

“Ugh, the suspense is killing me.” Wanda whined.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance”

“I want your horror, I want your design 'Cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine I want your love” Mercedes sang. “Love, love, love, I want your love”

“I want your psycho, your vertigo shtick (hey) Want you in my rear window, baby, you're sick I want your love” Santana sang.

“Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

“You know that I want you And you know that I need you ('cause I'm a free bitch, baby) I want it bad, your bad romance”

You desperately wanted to know what Natasha sounds like if she sang that part. You shake your head before singing your part.

“I want your love, and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) I want your love and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance

Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, passion baby Work it, I'm a free bitch, baby

“I want your love, and I want your revenge

I want your love, I don't wanna be friends 

J'veux ton amour, et je veux ta revanche

J'veux ton amour, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) No, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh, caught in a bad romance) I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) Want your bad romance! (oh-oh-oh)” 

Damn Santana still has it.

“Caught in a bad romance Want your bad romance I want your love, and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) I want your love and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh (Want your bad romance) Caught in a bad romance (Want your bad romance) Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh (Want your bad romance) Caught in a bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ahRoma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance”

Everyone cheered and clapped.

“How often do you think they play this song?” Pepper glared at her husband. “I’m just saying they all had a part.” Tony shrugged.

“How many times must I remind you. They were in glee club together in high school.” Pepper grit.

“Good times!” You chuckled as the gleeks hugged and walked off the makeshift stage. “This next one was Finn’s favorite song so it’s a must. Feel free to sing along and pour one out for my boy.”

“Bet.” Sam Wilson nodded, pouring some into the grass.

“Sam it got on my boots.” Bucky gruffed.

“It’s for a fellow fallen soldier Buck, show some respect.” Sam Wilson glared.

As soon as the band began playing the intro Steve stood jumping up and down. “This is one of my favorites too!”

“Oh my.” Bucky muttered, clearly judging his booyfriend.

“Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo”

“I'm packed and I'm holding

I'm smiling, she's living, she's golden

She lives for me, says she lives for me

Ovation, her own motivation

She comes round and she goes down on me

And I make you smile, like a drug for you

Do ever what you wanna do, coming over you

Keep on smiling, what we go through

One stop to the rhythm that divides you

And I speak to you like the chorus to the verse

Chop another line like a coda with a curse

Come on like a freak show takes the stage

We give them the games we play, she said-“

“I want something else to get me through this

Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby

I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo

The sky was gold, it was rose

I was taking sips of it through my nose

And I wish I could get back there, someplace back there

Smiling in the pictures you would take

Doing crystal meth, will lift you up until you break

It won't stop, I won't come down

I keep stock with a tick-tock rhythm, a bump for the drop

And then I bumped up, I took the hit that I was given

Then I bumped again, then I bumped again

I said

How do I get back there to the place where I fell asleep inside you

How do I get myself back to the place where you said

I want something else to get me through this

Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby

I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye

I believe in the sand beneath my toes

The beach gives a feeling, an earthy feeling

I believe in the faith that grows

And that four right chords can make me cry

When I'm with you I feel like I could die

And that would be alright, alright

And when the plane came in, she said she was crashing

The velvet it rips in the city, we tripped on the urge to feel alive

Now I'm struggling to survive

Those days you were wearing that velvet dress

You're the priestess, I must confess

Those little red panties they pass the test

Slides up around the belly, face down on the mattress

One

And you hold me, and we are broken

Still it's all that I wanna do, just a little now

Feel myself, heading off the ground

I'm scared, I'm not coming down

No, no

And I won't run for my life

She's got her jaws now locked down in a smile

But nothing is alright, alright

And I want something else to get me through this life

Baby, I want something else

Not listening when you say

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

The sky was gold, it was rose 

I was taking sips of it through my nose 

And I wish I could get back there 

Someplace back there, in the place we used to start

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

I want something else

Steve clapped and whistled loudly. “Fuck yeah!” 

“He said a bad word.” Tony snorted.

You walked over to the Natasha with a grin.

“Sing a song for me?” You asked the redhead.

“Oh I don’t know-”

“Please? It’s my birthday. You can pick the song.”

Natasha sighed and nodded, taking your hand. You gave a lopsided grin and kissed the top of her hand.

You lead her up the patio. “What do you wanna sing?” 

“I think you know.” She kinks her brow and you know exactly what to play.

You take up your acoustic guitar and begin picking the strings before looking over at her.

“Boy, tell me, can you take my breath away?

Cruisin' down a heart-shaped highway

Got you swervin' lane-to-lane, don't hit the brakes

'Cause I'm feelin' so safe

I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, why don't we get out of town?

Call me your baby, on the same wave

Oh, no, no, there's no slowin' down!”

You grin at her, your eyes never having left hers and join her in the chorus.

“You and I, I

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i”

Quinn is bristling at this exchange especially when the redhead stands up and threads her fingers in your hair.

“Let me run my fingers through your salty hair

Go ahead, explore the island

Vibes so real that you can feel it in the air

I'm revvin' up your engine”

Natasha taps your chin and continues the song.

“I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, why don't we get out of town? (Why don't we get out of town?)

Call me your baby, catch the same wave

Oh, no, no, there's no slowin' down (let's go)”

“Quinn is going to kill Y/N.” Kurt muttered

“Okay but I’m loving this, their chemistry is through the roof!” Blaine smiled.

“You and I, I

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

No, no

You and I (you and I, I)

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, whoa

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i

Call me your baby, catch the same wave

Oh, whoa

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i"

You quickly placed the guitar down and clapped whistling to cheer her on. You looked towards the crowd but didn’t see Quinn. Low and behold you couldn’t find Rachel either. You save that for later and focus on Natasha.

“That was beautiful Nat.” You chuckled and hugged her.

“Damn she’s sexy, Russian, and can sing?” Santana gawked with her wife Brittany.

“I know! No wonder Quinn is so jealous of her.” Brittany muttered.

“Where is that bitch anyway?” Santana squinted her eyes as she scanned the crowd.

“She went inside and so did Berry.” Brittany looked at her wife.

“Fuck Quinn.” Santana groaned.

Steve walked over to Bucky. “Buck.” He hissed. 

“What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost, or worse a naked woman.” He chuckled.

“Well.” Steve inhaled looking at you and Natasha.

“Oh shit you did.” Bucky chuckled. “Who?”

“Quinn and Rachel.” He whispered.

“What!?” Bucky exclaimed, making some people look over.

“Keep your voice down. It’s Y/N’s birthday.” He grit.

“I knew Quinn was no good.” Bucky muttered.

“Well we aren’t either. We are doing the exact same thing.”

“Hey take it easy, you said you were going to tell Peggy before she leaves again.”

Steve nodded watching Quinn and Rachel trickle out of the house.

“Do they know?” Bucky asked, looking away from them.

“No but they know someone knows. I broke a vase; I was in such shock.” He muttered.

“You’re going to have to tell Y/N.”

“Fuck.” Steve sighed he hated cursing but he knew this situation called for it. You and Quinn seemed so happy but then again he and Peggy did too. He knew he had to tell her and fast.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“Okay spill.” Wanda said, placing a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of Natasha.

“Ughhhhh Wands!” Natasha whined banging her head on the table.

“Stop! Start from the beginning.” Wanda placed a plate of pancakes down.

“Remember how we had a football match back in August?”

“Yeaaaah.” Wanda nodded. “I had major FOMO that day.”

“Well Tony dropped a bombshell on me. Apparently someone close to Y/N turned down their full ride to MIT.”

“Oh my gosh!!! Shut up no!” Wanda gasped, her hand going over her mouth.

“Yes!”

“My money's on Quinn. She probably got scared Y/N would leave her and Beth or something.”

“I think it’s her too but Tony said we can’t just assume we need to talk to Y/N, but-“

“Neither of you want to break their family apart.” Wanda nodded. “That’s understandable.”

“So now I have this bigger secret than my fake relationship with Bruce, and now on top of that I have another that I don’t even know what to do with!”

“Oh my gosh what?! You’re killing me!” Wanda whined.

“Y/N and I had a moment in the kitchen last night.” Natasha sighed.

“Nat.” Wanda sighed. “Y/N is married-”

“I know!”

“I told you that gift was too personal-”

“But-”

“But no Nat. Listen. I love you but this is wrong.”

“I know.” Nat sighed. “I think it was just the alcohol… the only reason I brought that up is because of Rachel Berry.”

“The short one that kept singing broadway songs?”

“Yes! Anyway she cornered me right after and suggested we break them up.”

“What the hell? Hasn’t she been their friend since highschool?!”

“Yes!”

“What did she say?”

“She said she knows I like Y/N and she likes Quinn and thinks they should divorce that they aren’t truly happy together.”

“What a weirdo.” Wanda gasped.

“She told me to think about it. Now I have to tell Y/N that their career was stolen from them, and their old friend is a snake.” Natasha sighed. “Wands what do I do?” 

“Honestly, I would like to know if it happened to me.”

“But how do I even begin to tell Y/N? This is going to break Y/N’s heart, and worse, what if they don’t believe me?”

“You’ll have to treat it like a band aid.” Wanda sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“This could ruin their relationship.”

“Or it could strengthen it.” Wanda raised her brow.

It was quiet for a beat when Vis walked in.

“I think the real question is Nat do you have feelings for Y/N?”

“Vis what the hell?” Wanda grit.

“I’m sorry I was hungry and didn’t want to interrupt!” He said, grabbing a plate.

“What do my feelings have to do with what happened?” Natasha asked.

“Because if you have feelings and you are both married granted yours is a sham-”

“Vis!” Wanda smacked his arm.

“I just mean if you have feelings for a married person you need to distance yourself.”

“Oh don’t worry after I speak with Y/N I’m sure they’ll stop talking to me.” Natasha smiled sarcastically. She was stuck between a rock in a hard place. One she's falling for you, two she needs to tell you her marriage is a sham, three someone stole your chance at MIT. How does someone even begin to unload all of that information?

[devoureddreaa]

diary of a mad black woman

i’m totally not projecting in this /hj. buuuuuut, i love love love the movie: diary of a mad black woman. probably the best piece of fiction tyler perry has created. but, i hope you enjooooy!!

cw: toji is an asshole (mb…), you’re gonna be kind of a bitch too if you squint, relationship issues, infidelity issues (on both sides), an established relationship coming to an end, you’re not getting back with him….. (sorry not sorry), uhh y/n is black woman coded (hii ting at the title). lemme know if i forgot anything !!!!

five long, draining years.

five years ago..you married toji right after you two graduated. don’t worry, your clan didn’t sell you. marrying toji is what you wanted to do. only god knew how bad of a decision you were

toji fushiguro, had his owns dreams and aspirations. ones that most possibly didn’t involve you whatsoever, but you forced yourself into them. the first year was just fine, it was like you were laying on cloud nine.

that was until you were pushed off that cloud.

he moved you away from your home. he wanted to “forget about the past” he said, and leave everything behind. and that included your own family..you didn’t know how long it had been since you last heard their voices. now you were isolated, and that only made things worse cause toji knew what sort of power he had over you now.

you did anything in your power to stay in his vision. whether that was dealing with his manipulative behavior, or even his infidelity..you sticked around.

cause you loved him??

or cause you didn’t have anyone else to go to?

weird, cause then you got kicked out of your own home and he got a divorce. he packed all your shit in a truck and replaced you for some hooker. bet enough booger sugar and lube got her to stay. you drove that truck back over to your grandmothers house…who almost shot you since it was the middle of the night. you got over it after a few months. got a job, made friends, reconnected with family..even your mother, and maybe even found some newfound love.

that’s until toji got injured and he was temporarily paralyzed. the hooker he wanted so badly wanted to leave him for dead, but you..were still legally his wife. so you made the last call.

to keep him alive.

as you sat there, thinking about picking up the pieces of what used to be your life..you realized something. every room in this place that you used to call home held a painful memory for you. even though toji’s suffering…something in you wants him to suffer even more. few months in a divorce can take a person through just as many emotions as five years in a marriage. oh, and you’re starting to feel all of them at once.

but the one that is clear…is rage.

now here you were, in your old home, in the office looking for old bill files for him. while he sat in his wheelchair…quietly.

shuffling through the stake of papers, you started to shake your head. “i don’t see it..”

toji’s head perked up, “you don’t see it?” he repeated, in somewhat of a mocking tone..

“no.”

he scoffed, “you really are good for nothing.” here he goes again. “find my bank statement and get the accountant on the phone.”

you looked up from the stack of papers and looked up at him. into those dead cold eyes, those eyes that used to give you so much love..but now…they just give you a whole lotta hurt.

“then call somebody, anybody and you can leave.” toji motioned down to the wheelchair he was sitting it. “this, is not gonna beat me.”

“oh really?” you’re tone was cold, ice cold. you were watching a grown man, that was fully capable of finding his own bank statements, throw a fit cause you couldn’t find it.

his legs were paralyzed, not his fucking arms.

“yea, and whatchu staring at?”

“you get stabbed in the spine, and you’re still the same.”

“i am who i am, and im gonna die that way. toots.” toji gave you a dirty, damn near disgusting look as he looked you up and down. “i don’t even know why you’re here, i’m not givin’ you shit. matter fact, where are my kids?”

“you done, toji?”

“yknow what bitch, just get out.”

you could feel your jaw clenched up when he said that.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, “i ask you to do one simple thing, and you can even do that after five— get out!”

you dropped the papers that were in your hands, you got up from the rather comfortable leather seat. grabbed your things from off the desk and proceeded to take your exit back home quietly.

but then you stopped.

who the hell is he? the man who hasn’t dont anything but hurt you. and now…you were about to let him keep doing exactly that? keep letting him control you like some toy. nah…that ain’t gon slide. before you could even think about it, your arm swung forward then swung back..the back of your hand connecting with toji’s face.

you turned yourself back around and leaned down to face him, placing your hands on the arm rest of the wheelchair..practically caging him in.

“let me explain something to you.” your tone of voice was sick, nasty. it was damn near like you were spitting pure vemon. “old y/n..is gone. and you will not talk to me like that.”

“now i came here..to help you. but now, i’m here to get even.”

“y/n, you—”

“shut up!” your yell echoed through the quiet home, the rain outside just barely being able to heard over it.

“you want your whore..” you walked over and grabbed the picture of toji and his little hooker..that was framed in a pretty little frame. “and your damn kids?”

you raised your arms up and threw the picture onto the ground, shattering the frame. “do you see what you left me for?!” you bend down and quickly picked up the picture, shoving it in toji’s face.

“this..is what you left me for!”

you started to rip the picture to shreds right in front of him, letting the loose parts fall to the floor. “she didn’t give a damn ‘bout you toji, she told them to let you die.!”

you walked back over by the desk, using your arms to sweep the top of it clean..everything falling on the floor, some of it even breaking.

“and yknow what’s funny? hm?” a condescending smile grew on your face. “i fucking gave you life boy, even though you took it from me.”

you’ve never seen toji so quiet and still before for how long you’ve known, but oh, that didn’t mean you were about to let up. you grabbed a play bat that was sitting on the floor..

“ya kids..your boys.” you swung the plastic bat and hit toji in the head. “i wanted children toji! and had you not been a public sex-stop, we would have them!”

you backed away and anger started to consume you. it showed in your face, your body movement, even in the way your heart was racing. you didn’t know if this felt good or not..

“got me all stressed out, my hair fallin’ out, my weight up ‘n down, can’t keep anything down! two miscarriages! you took life from me, and you never even said ‘i’m sorry’..”

was that it? the end of your rant.

hell nah, you walked out of that office. and you let toji sit there alone for a few days. when you can back it smelt rancid.

“god..” you groaned and covered your nose. walking up behind him. “ya smell like shit.”

you grabbed the handle bars and started to walk, then you started to run towards the bathroom.

“y/n. hell are doing?” toji asked, a bit afraid (that’s a new one.)

you ignored his concerns, barging through the bathroom doors to reveal a tub filled with water and a little bit of bubbles.

“y/n, stop—!”

the wheelchair hit the edge and toji was flipped over into the water. you pushed the wheelchair back and watched him, in silence for a bit.

“bathe him, feed him, clothe him..they say.” you say on the edge of the bathtub just watching him. “what bout me, huh? and jesus, stop lookin’ like an idiot.”

you begin to light a cigarette while toji just laid in the slightly cold water. “you try and..kick me out of our house, and keep me away from our money? hell nah. fuck nah, at that.”

you looked back over to see that toji’s head was started to submerge under the water. you quickly got up, dropped your cigarette in the water, and practically dragged toji back up to the surface.

“remember toji, i was there..when all you had was me.”

you stepped out of the tub and left him there.

later, you both sat at the oddly long dinner table. you on one side, and toji on the other. weird thing was you had a plate with a salad on it, and toji? he didn’t have a thing in front of him.

meanwhile, you were eating like it was the best salad you had ever had.

suddenly, toji had..started to cry? “y/n..”

your eyes perked up, “awe, you hungry?”

maybe he was. but who fucking cared? “hm..maybe you should go into the kitchen and get yourself something to eat then hm?” the smile on your face was brutal

“christina..” toji quietly cried out.

you looked over your shoulder, confused. “christina?!” you looked back over at the pitiful man in front of you..trying to hold back to boiling laughter. “christina’s gone…”

you smiled wildly, “your little tramp didn’t have any money to her so she left.” looking back down at your plate using your fork to pick up for more food. “just like your slut.”

“she packed all her shit, and some of yours toji fushiguro..and went on her merry way.” you started to laugh. “come to think of it..she cleaned out your bank account. all of it!”

“oh, sweetheart, you tried to keep from me? and she ended up taking it all..huh?!” you started to laugh even harder, throwing your head back and slamming your fist on to the table.

this was even better then therapy.

“toji..you are like soooo many men.” you paused to get a good look at him. “you’d rather lay with dogs then make it work with a women.”

“you’re a bitch ass, toji..a coward.”

you forcefully pushed your plate of food, sending it flying across the table towards toji. it ended up landing on his lap and some fell onto the floor. but you sure as hell weren’t gonna pick it up, you got up and went upstairs to go to sleep.

toji ended up getting better, and you let all your anger out on him..later forgiving him. you took that divorce as a blessing, the thing you used to see as curse. he still loved you, but you didn’t love him the same. you didn’t want to be back with him. pain can hurt someone, but it won’t change anybody; and toji is a perfect example of that.

but you? oh you knew better. and anyone that would cross you in the future would learn that.

signed,

a mad black woman.

did it well…and did it good. PLSASE WATXH HIS MOVIE, I LOVE IT!!! anywho coming with the content..smash that like button for more bangers!!! /lhj but, hope you enjoyed!! love you baaaaaaai (if you saw any typos..not you didn’t)

[hyenaswine]

when searching for tips on washing embroidery/xstitch sometimes you will find people who are like "ummm i just make sure i always have clean hands when i sew so i don't have to wash my pieces 😇" & i want you to know those people are idiots. you have oils in your skin that come FROM your skin no matter how clean it is; you are a human being & this is perfectly normal. this is how your body is supposed to work - these freaks who think they don't produce oil aren't cleaner than you, they're just wrong.

i don't personally care if you choose to wash your work when you're done - i think maybe there's something about those oils being invisible at first but sometimes staining the fabric over time, idk you'll have to look it up - & i'm not gonna think you're dirty or gross if you don't; it's your art & your choice, & your body is not gross for being human. i always wash my pieces when i'm done just because it makes me feel better about sending them off to other people (where they're no longer in my control), & also because i live with a chronically ill cat who sneezes on anything & everything i own. i just assume by default that everything in my home has cat snot on it whether i can see it or not.

i have a black plastic witch's cauldron which was previously a halloween decoration that i just fill with warm water & a drop of dish soap. i put my finished pieces in there to soak for 10-20 minutes; at least once you should agitate the water a bit, like a washing machine would, & sometimes you might have to scrub a piece against itself if there's a visible mark you're trying to get out (i use this ancient red tailor's crayon on some darker fabrics that i often have to scrub to erase). dump the water out, put cool water in, dump it out, keep doing that until there are no more suds in the water, or just take the piece out & rinse it if you're lazy. you're not supposed to wring it out, but again, i'm lazy & i don't like carrying sopping fabric through my house. then you gotta lay it on a towel & if it's a larger piece, roll the towel up & twist it to wring it out in THERE, which is apparently okay. then iron the piece from the back so you don't flatten your stitches. after that i pop my piece straight onto a high shelf in my closet to dry, so that the damn cat doesn't have a chance to get any of his germs on it.

anyway nobody asked for my advice or details of my personal embroidery-washing routine, but advice that's like "just don't be dirty in the first place 😇" is literally so unhelpful & infuriating. that's not advice cuz you aren't offering a solution to the problem (aside from acquiring a time machine) & you clearly don't KNOW what the actual answer is anyway, or else you'd know that your hands are never truly clean & you're framing work that might end up revealing all your grimy little sins as it ages. washing your work is a pain but it's not so impossible as to not be worth doing if you want to or need to. cuz sometimes your cat plants a fat booger right in the middle of your dainty little sampler & you need to know how to fix that shit, because not allowing your cat to sit on your lap while you're sewing is clearly NOT an option.

[ofthecaravel]

But You Look So Cool

A Danny Wagner/Sam Kiszka fic

Summary: Danny has a crush on a familiar face.

Tags: Fluff, cutesy bullshit, IDIOTS ALERT, literally just the stupidest goofuses alive, NSFW shit AHHHH

Words: 10.8k

A/N: Just trying to keep my Sanny girlies fed. Heavily inspired by Crush by Ethel Cain, everybody go listen to Ethel Cain right now or I will explode you with my mind

Let me know what you think!

~~~

Danny Wagner knew there was no shame in ditching the typical post high school route of moving across the country to start college. Well, maybe it was more like an affirmation he said to himself begrudgingly in the mirror after coming home from work and getting ready to go to class at the local community college. He’d escaped his parent’s house, not that there was anything bad to escape from, and now lived in a crappy one room apartment that he paid for by working a job that he liked an average amount. Every other day, Danny took classes at the community college. He couldn’t help but feel like he was wasting his early twenties saving money and starting small, even though he knew it was the smartest option for him, considering he wasn’t actually all that sure what he wanted to do with life. There weren’t a lot of things Danny was sure of about himself quite yet, but he had faith that it would all fall into place. It had to. Right?

Danny wasn’t sure when things would start to become clear to him, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be during any of his classes. This was an endurance part of his life, he had decided. Get them done, get the associate’s degree, and THEN go from there. He was taking a pretty low course load so he could keep up with work and, well, his sanity, and this was a September where he was taking a whopping two classes. They were both pretty basic, a math course and a history course, and he didn’t expect much from them apart from taking the occasional nap and scurrying to do all of his homework last minute like he’d done his entire academic career. 

What Danny especially didn’t expect from his first day of classes was walking into his math classroom (only after double and triple checking he had the right room), taking a seat by the window, and then becoming acutely aware of the smell of cigarette smoke. As he dug his laptop and notebook out of his bag, he wrinkled his nose at the smell and prepared to meet whoever had drug this scent in with them. He could see someone had sat next to him while his neck was craned, and when he straightened, Danny looked to his right and was immediately seized by a cold jolt of surprise. The guy next to him was undoubtedly the smoker, but he was also undoubtedly someone Danny had gone to school with prior. 

It was Sam, Sam Kiszka, Sam Kiszka who had been on the robotics team and favored shadowing his older brothers over cultivating a group of friends. Danny had known him with a shaggy emo haircut, braces, and an arsenal of class clown cracks. He’d ultimately lost track of Sam during senior year, when news broke of his dad’s arrest and Sam had shrunk moodily into the shadows while his brothers disappeared into college life and made their own name beyond crime and scandal. 

Danny had a feeling that whole era of Sam’s life played a factor into the man he’d grown into. This new Sam sat slouched in a smoke soaked leather jacket with a ratty backpack and scowl playing on his face. It was weird to see him like this. Danny almost wanted to say something, but after Sam’s feline glare passed over him and quickly slid off, he decided not to. He was annoyingly aware of the effect it had on him, though. There was a nervous tremor in Danny’s hand as he opened up his laptop and logged in, staring at himself in the reflection of the dark loading screen and checking for eye boogers or frizz in a sudden attempt to smooth out his sleepy appearance. 

The smoke smell was dizzying now in such close proximity, equal parts overwhelming and delicious. Danny breathed it in and, instead of letting out an almost longing sigh, he let out a huge sneeze. In doing so, he knocked his forehead against his keyboard and scooted backwards in his chair in the same motion. Red faced, he looked up and saw almost every eye in the previously quiet room trained on him. Someone called out a ‘bless you’ and he thanked them with an embarrassed smile, finally looking over to see Sam’s assessment. Danny felt his face go hot all over again when he saw Sam was side eyeing him with an amused smile. When they made eye contact, Sam quickly looked forward again and his smile crumpled. For some reason he couldn’t pin, Danny’s heart fluttered.

His mind started racing as his anxiety made him more and more aware of Sam’s presence and every little move. Did Sam remember him? What the hell had he been up to the past two years? Danny had heard rumors that Sam slipped in and out of the county jail since his dad had been sentenced to death row, unconsciously mirroring his family legacy in some sort of effort to cope. But as far as Danny knew, that was just hearsay. As the professor started the lecture and Danny started to focus, his last thought was that maybe he and Sam would grow to be friends over the course of the class. 

--

Danny gave up on that hope after the third class. Even during icebreakers, Sam had barely spoken and seemed to daydream the entire class, taking bare bones notes and racing out the door the second the lecture finished. Still, Danny gave him well prepared smiles in the split seconds that Sam’s eyes would drift over him, considering that Danny’s eyes were now almost always on him. Danny himself was a little startled by how distracted he was by his silent classmate. They had exchanged zero words and yet Danny found himself driving up to the building with anxious butterflies as the days went on. He started fulfilling weird little compulsions he’d never felt before, like standing in front of the mirror messing with the way his hair fell, even though he always left it back in its wavy, brushed-out side part. Danny sat in class with his back straighter and his face hidden by his curtain of waves, using them as a cover to sneak glances at Sam’s frowning profile.

 In such a tizzy, Danny had spent the time after a family dinner to corner his sister and ask her for a second opinion on why he was feeling so crazy. He had scoffed when she’d begun to laugh in his face, looking at him like he was the stupidest person alive.

“What, you asshole?” Danny asked, shoving Josie’s shoulder as she stifled her laugh with a hand and used the other to grip his shoulder in comradery.

“You idiot,” she giggled. “You’re not being possessed by the devil. You have a fucking crush.”

Danny flushed and laughed at the accusation, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, okay, sure, right,” Danny mocked, leaning against the doorframe of his sister’s room. “We’ve literally never spoken.”

“You don’t have to talk to someone to have a crush on them,” Josie explained.

Danny paused.

“You don’t?”

“No? What, is this your first year on Earth? Are you experiencing emotions for the first time?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Seriously! Have you never had a crush before?”

Danny thought about it. 

“Yeah, in, like, high school,” Danny answered. “I had a girlfriend, thank you.”

“Oh, please, you only dated her because she wouldn’t leave you alone,” Josie accused with a creeping smile. “Sounds like this guy is giving you the real deal. Congratulations, welcome to feelings.”

“What do I even do about it?” Danny whined, sliding down the wood panel and sitting hard. “This shit sucks.”

“Ask him out!” Josie insisted, forming a little heart with her hands. “Follow your heart.”

“You’re a fucking cornball,” Danny countered. “I feel like I should probably talk to him minimum one time before I do that. I mean, I don’t even know if he’s…you know, whatever. Would even be into me.”

“Oh, I bet he’s totally into you,” Josie assured. “When you said he smiled at you after you sneezed? Totally into you.”

“You’re just feeding my delusion.”

“I’m making up for lost time you spent fake dating a weirdo in high school.”

“Yeah, this is some real sentimental bonding we’ve got going on right now.”

“Come on, you wimp,” Josie said, tossing a pillow at Danny’s head. “Do literally anything. Don’t let him be the one that got away.”

“You’re so dramatic, fuck,” Danny accused, but smiled. “Fine, okay, I’ll talk to him.”

--

Danny did not talk to him. Danny really did plan on talking to Sam during their next class, but when Danny pulled into a parking spot, he found himself next to Sam and his grungy motorcycle. Worse yet, it was one of September’s warmer mornings with a humidity left over from a storm the next before, which meant that Sam was shirtless and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He took off his helmet and shook his hair out, unaware of Danny’s jaw hitting the floor as he combed it through with one hand and dug a shirt out of his backpack. After allowing himself one more sidelong glance before he stumbled out of his car, Danny saw a scattering of tattoos on Sam’s wiry arms and hiding on his ribcage. The words died on Danny’s tongue and in his mind and he decided that maybe he’d wait another day, so he did. And then he waited for two more weeks after that, and even then, Danny couldn’t get himself to even breathe in Sam’s direction.

The only person keeping Danny accountable was Josie, and she regularly expressed her upset towards Danny’s lack of action. The siblings had a long standing tradition of raiding the convenience store by their house on Saturday evenings so they had a proper snack arsenal for movie night, and on the Saturday after the one month mark of Danny’s class starting, Josie followed him through the aisles and chastised him.

“Why do you even care so much?” Danny hissed at her as he absently looked through rows of crinkling bags of chips and pretzels. 

“Because this is the most exciting thing that’s happened to you since you graduated, you nerd,” Josie answered, plucking a bag of chips out of his hand and breezing by. “Plus, it’d be fun to have someone to razz you with.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a kind and gentle soul? Because they were lying.”

Josie laughed and they both continued a steady bicker as they swept the aisles. They settled in the candy aisle for a heated debate on what the “mood” of their candy should be that night. Suddenly, a raucous round of hissing and popping started up outside and they both startled, looking towards the sound. It was the sound of firecrackers, and the owner let out a disgusted sigh and stormed out from behind the counter. He’d seen the Wagner siblings in his store since they were little, and since they were the only ones in there, he quickly told them to not steal anything and then ran out the doors to investigate. The two of them exchanged an amused look and started a joking dialogue about how much stuff they could fit in their pockets when the bell on the door jingled again. They quieted, thinking the owner was back so soon, but Danny felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs when he looked behind him into the next aisle and saw a familiar helmet. He mouthed ‘shit’ and turned around again, Josie quickly picking up on the nervous twitch in his features and looking for herself.

“What?” she whispered, almost inaudible, following Danny as he scooted into the next aisle over to put an aisle between them. Danny gave her a look, and then jerked his head at the man once before widening his eyes. Instantly, her mouth fell open and she started peeking over the top of the shelves to try and catch a glimpse at Sam’s face.

“No way!” she breathed again. “He rides a motorcycle? Hot!”

“Shut the entire fuck up,” Danny seethed, feeling a chill run down his spine when he heard Sam’s boots in the aisle behind them. He moved quickly, a rustle of bags and wrappers as he did. Danny and Josie stood very still when they felt Sam stride into the aisle they were in, exchanging a look and then respectively picking up a snack and examining their wrappers intently. Danny took a brave look over at Sam and saw him pick up a bag of Skittles and then pocket it brashly in the joking way he and his sister had pretended to. Danny blinked in surprise; maybe Sam really was the criminal people made him out to be. Hopefully shoplifting was the worst of his crimes. 

Sam moved down the aisle towards them and looked up at Danny, the two of them exchanging a moment of tense eye contact before Sam’s dark eyes flickered over the Twix in Danny’s hands and then away again. Sam walked behind the two of them and then with a quiet ‘excuse me’, he reached his arm in front of Danny and plucked a Twix from the box. Danny stood frozen to the spot but leaned politely out of the way, trying to subtly stomp on Josie’s foot when she sneakily reached up and sank her nails into his forearm in a silent urge for Danny to say something.

However, Danny hardly got the chance to breathe before the owner walked back into the store with an annoyed huff, which caused Sam to startle and then hustle back past them and slip behind a display. Danny and Josie shared a confused look and tracked the top of Sam’s helmet as he sneaked around the perimeter of the store, clearly trying to make his way to the door without being seen. Unfortunately for Sam, they heard his boot knock loudly against a bottle and the owner looked up from his paper. His face immediately twisted into a fury.

“KISZKA!” he bellowed, slamming his paper onto the counter as Sam scurried down the first aisle and out the door, the bell banging loudly as the owner followed him out in a hurried jog. Danny and Josie quietly stood and watched the two men disappear around the corner in a flurry of yells. 

“Well,” Josie finally said as they slowly approached the counter and started piling their stuff onto it for when the owner returned. “He seems really nice.”

“Shut up,” Danny muttered, knowing his face was thoroughly flushed from both nerves and embarrassment. 

“No, really, I’m super excited for your prison biker wedding.”

“Shut up.”

--

On Monday, Danny was sitting at his table going over the Excel graphing exercise that had driven him nearly crazy the night prior when something was loudly dropped next to him. His reflexes were not as sharp from his lack of sleep and he jolted, calming when he saw what had been dropped on his notebook: a Twix. Danny immediately looked to his right and watched Sam fall into his seat, cracking his neck and unzipping his backpack like nothing had happened. Heart racing, Danny picked up the chocolate and caught Sam’s eye, holding it aloft with confusion crinkling his arched brows. Sam looked at the Twix like he was surprised to see it, sniffed absently and then reclined further in his chair. 

“It’s a bribe,” Sam finally spoke, his light voice betraying his cool, edgy facade. 

“Pardon?” Danny asked dumbly, trying not to stumble over his words.

“A bribe,” Sam repeated, looking at Danny like he was stupid. “It seems like you know what you’re doing in this class, right?”

“Barely,” Danny muttered, looking back at the admittedly correct graphs on his screen. 

“That’s better than how I’m doing,” Sam scoffed, loudly dropping his laptop on his table and pulling a bulky thermos out of his backpack. “I figured a little bribe would help to make alliances.”

Danny looked back at the candy in his hand.

“You stole this.”

“So, what? You and your girlfriend were talking about stealing.”

“That was my sister,” Danny clarified with a curl of his lip. “We weren’t actually going to steal anything, it was just a dumb joke.”

“Well, aren’t you a perfect angel?” Sam sarcastically batted his lashes at Danny and then rolled his eyes, cracking his knuckles aggressively. Danny bristled at Sam’s attitude, even though a small part of him was thrilled by it. 

“I don’t know how you think you make friends, but it’s not like this,” Danny snipped shakily, lifting his chin and looking back at his screen. He could feel Sam staring at him as he pretended to care about his homework. 

“You’re Danny, yeah?” Sam asked casually after a minute.

“Yeah.”

“I remember you from high school.”

Danny hesitated and met Sam’s eye again. Sam smiled, knowing he had Danny’s attention. 

“I didn’t do much in high school,” Danny laughed awkwardly, a little incredulous that Sam would’ve paid any kind of attention to him back then. Danny had friends, sure, but he coasted through classes and invested most of his time with the golfing team, playing video games and banging on the drumset in the basement. He and Sam had mutual friends but had never run in the same circles. 

“I remember you anyways,” Sam went on, picking at the skin of his thumb. “You weren’t the type of person to pass up the chance to help out. And I bet that hasn’t changed much. So, you know, if you could help me with an assignment or two, that’d be sick. Plus, I’d make it worth your while.”

“Will I continue to be paid in Twix?”Danny joked, flushing at Sam’s surprising comprehension of Danny’s character. Sam laughed, a sharp noise that sent chills down Danny’s spine. 

“You’re fucking funny, dude,” Sam grinned. “If that’s what you want, but I can get you whatever you need. Pick your poison.”

“Poison?” Danny echoed, blinking blankly. Sam’s eyes softened slightly as he realized Danny wasn’t picking up on what he was putting down. He looked almost endeared.

“Yeah, man,” Sam continued, his voice lowering as he leaned towards Danny. “Dope, coke. If that’s not your vibe, I’ll buy you a stupid six pack or roll you a blunt.”

“If I help you do your homework, you’re going to give me coke?” Danny hissed, leaning in as well. “You’re going from Twix to cocaine for trigonometry?”

“I have to graduate,” Sam hissed back, his voice urgent. “Not graduating is not an option for me. I’ve already flunked a class once and if I fail again my family will-”

Sam cut himself off with a groan and flopped dramatically back into his seat, crossing his arms and stretching his legs out. 

“Forget it,” Sam snapped, color rising to his cheeks as he let out a huff. “Forget everything I said. I’m fine, it’s fine.”

Danny paused as he watched Sam shift in his seat, his eyes clouding over as he stared down at his lap. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have thought that Sam might be starting to tear up. 

“Hey, man, I’ll help you,” Danny relented, his heart nearly hammering out of his chest as he said it. “Don’t worry about paying me back or anything, though. Actually, I’m more motivated to help you if you promise NOT to give me drugs.”

Sam stared silently at him for a moment, clearly waiting for Danny to pull the rug out from under him and tell him he was only joking. But Danny was sincere in his promise, and Sam’s tense shoulders loosened slightly. 

“Cool,” Sam said quietly, nodding once. “Are you busy after class?”

Danny was supposed to have lunch with a friend, but in a split second he decided to cancel. 

“No,” Danny answered quickly. 

“Wanna go to the library and, I don’t know, you tell me what the fuck is happening in this unit?” Sam suggested, his voice lowering as he got to the end of his sentence. Danny couldn’t help but let a painfully endeared smile cross over his face as he pretended to think for a second and then nodded. 

“Yeah, that works,” Danny agreed casually and Sam mirrored his nodding. 

“Sweet.”

“Yeah.”

They looked at each other for a moment, letting a few awkward beats pass before Sam cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his thermos. Danny watched him unscrew the chunky lid and take a deep sip, causing Sam to visibly hold back a wince as his eye twitched and he screwed the lid back on. He looked back at Danny, who was regarding him with another look of surprise.

“What?” Sam whispered.

“Dude,” Danny said simply, unsure whether to be concerned or to laugh. 

“Shut up,” Sam replied, narrowing his eyes like an angry cat. 

“It’s 9am,” Danny went on, a giggle at the end of his words.

“Shut up,” Sam repeated. 

The professor got out of her seat and turned on her computer, signaling the beginning of class, and both of them fell silent as the lecture flashed on the projection screen. Danny decided to try and sneak one more look at Sam before he tuned in completely, allowing himself to relish in the anticipation that they were going to be spending the afternoon together. When he looked, he saw Sam was looking back at him, and they both turned away quickly and didn’t make eye contact for the rest of the class.

After an admittedly awkward walk to the library, Danny very quickly learned the extent of just what kind of student Sam was. His eyes wandered, his questions branched into a myriad of tangents, and oftentimes his conclusions made no sense. A particularly hard problem had Danny making Sam slowly backtrack his process to how he arrived at his answer, which made Danny even more confused and further infuriated Sam as he was reminded of how lost he was. 

And yet, Danny was exceedingly patient with him. When the light outside started to fade and they gave up on making any more progress, Sam seemed genuinely shocked that Danny had stuck around as long as he had. Sure, when he got home that night Danny gave an extra little scream into his pillow from how hard he had fought Sam to try and help him understand the unit they were on, but Danny really hadn’t minded getting to spend some actual one on one time with Sam. Between tense discussion and slow calculations, Danny had actually had a lot of fun. 

--

Danny finally admitted to himself that he was completely and totally screwed after the next couple of study sessions with Sam. The issue was that not only was Sam even hotter up close, but that he and Danny got along famously. When he wasn’t cussing out his textbook (or Danny, on occasion) or staring off into space, Sam was funny and quick witted and a surprisingly good listener. He had this habit of cradling his jaw with both hands while staring wide eyed at Danny and the textbook he was working off of, nodding occasionally and scribbling down Danny’s process with his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. 

“You’re really getting it now, man,” Danny said proudly one afternoon, watching Sam’s flimsy mechanical pencil work its way down his notebook page as he linked together a probability. 

“Maybe a little,” Sam mumbled, flipping a page to check the answer sheet. 

“Seriously, you’ve made hella progress,” Danny went on, motioning at Sam’s paper with his own pencil. “You don’t even need the cheat sheet, I know that’s right.”

“Still gonna check,” Sam insisted, seeming to shrink under Danny’s praise. Danny frowned, watching Sam grow somber in the way he always did when he scoured his homework for problems. Normally, Danny just let him take his quiet pause, but this time he felt himself  saying something before he could stop himself.

“You know that you’re smart, right?”

Sam looked up quickly, looking almost disgusted by Danny’s compliment.

“Yeah, okay,” Sam mocked, crinkling his nose. 

“You are,” Danny continued. “You were smart in high school, too. I mean, you did robotics and debate and stuff, right? You’ve gotta be clever to do all that.”

Sam blinked, his look shifting from unbelieving to almost shy.

“You remember all that?” Sam asked, his voice oddly soft. Danny felt his face flush.

“Uh, well, yeah,” Danny stammered slightly, shrugging like it was nothing. “I noticed lots of stuff in high school. It was a lot more fun than doing my own stuff, I guess.”

“You did cool stuff, too,” Sam said hesitantly, looking back at his page. “Golf is…cool.”

“No, it’s not,” Danny laughed, and a smirk slipped onto Sam’s face.

“Nah, it’s really not,” Sam agreed, the smirk growing to a cheeky grin. “You know what I mean. You were a cool person.”

“Oh, am I not cool anymore?” Danny teased, basking in the realization that at least once, Sam had thought about him back then.

“You’re still cool,” Sam smiled, his eyes boring into Danny’s own as Danny’s smile grew wide and dopey.

“Cool,” Danny replied dumbly, seeing Sam’s eyebrow raise in his peripheral vision as he pretended to start on another question. 

“Not good with compliments either, huh?” Sam accused lightheartedly.

“I guess I just don’t get them that much,” Danny answered honestly. Sam immediately let out a sharp, one note laugh that earned him a dirty look from the librarian and a confused smile from Danny.

“What?” Danny asked. Sam looked him up and down once with an amused smile, but once he realized Danny had absolutely no clue what he found so ridiculous, his smile quickly died. 

“Nothing, whatever,” Sam backtracked, letting out another much quieter laugh as if to make up for the brashness of the first one. 

“Nuh uh, tell me,” Danny insisted, quickly swiping Sam’s paper out from under his hand and holding it hostage under his forearm. “What’s so funny, funny guy?”

“Nothing!” Sam doubled down, his usually edgy tone taking on a brand new whining quality as he tried to yank his paper back. The annoyed knit of Sam’s eyebrows gave Danny a small thrill he didn’t quite understand. 

“You tell me why you laughed or I eat this fucking piece of paper.”

“Oh, I would actually love to see that, go right ahead.”

“Come on, Sam, tell me,” Danny all but begged. “Why is it so damn funny I don’t get compliments on the reg?” 

Sam still refused to meet his eye, half heartedly trying to slide the paper out from under Danny’s arm with his fingertips gripping furiously. 

“I don’t know, I guess it’s just weird considering you look, you know…” Sam trailed off, his tan cheeks rosy as he stumbled to his point. “Looking the way you do, I’d think maybe you’d be fending ‘em off ‘on the reg’. Your words, not mine.”

Danny blinked, still vaguely lost.

“Looking the way I do?” Danny echoed slowly, and Sam rolled his eyes. Danny looked down at himself, trying to decipher whatever Sam was getting at. “Is there a big sweater crowd here that I was unaware of, or…?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Sam mumbled, finally pushing Danny’s arm back with one hand and grabbing his paper with the other. “Nevermind.”

Danny spent the rest of the night trying to understand just what Sam had been telling him, but it didn’t hit him until that last second before he finally fell asleep. Danny had sat up abruptly when the thought settled on him, his adrenaline jerking him upwards like a puppet so hard that his knee collided with his cheek. He fell back onto his pillow with a prolonged groan, pressing the heel of his palm to his sore cheek, feeling his blood pulse as he blinked up at the ceiling with the realization spinning in his head: Sam thought he was attractive. And he had said it right to Danny’s face without him knowing. As he began to drift off again, Danny thought he might be the stupidest man alive. 

--

Danny certainly felt like one when the next time he saw Sam, he approached him with sheepish energy and a big, tender bruise on the plane of his cheek under his right eye. Sam’s mouth fell open and he immediately reached up to touch Danny’s face, his fingers softly grazing over the bruise as his dark eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“What the hell happened to you?” Sam asked, his eyes suddenly lighting up as a snarky comment generated in his head. “Oh my god, did you get in a fight?”

Danny, realizing there was no way he could explain the true nature of his injury without sounding like an utter idiot, quickly nodded in agreement and tried to look remorseful. Sam’s mouth fell open again. The sparkle in his eye paired with his ability to be so quick to believe made Danny’s stomach flutter in adoration.

“Yeah, no biggie,” Danny said coolly as he slid into his seat, shrugging off his bag as Sam landed on his seat harshly, his eyes still stuck to Danny’s face. 

“Who did you fight?” Sam gasped. “Did you fight a cop? Oh, please say yes.”

“Yep, you know me, big cop fighter,” Danny agreed, sarcasm edging his voice as he shot Sam a sly smile. Sam slumped in his seat as he began to scowl.

“Oh, fuck you, don’t lie to me,” Sam pouted, crossing his leather clad arms. “Seriously, what’s with the bruise?”

“It’s stupid, I’m fine,” Danny laughed. 

“Do we have to cancel midterms studying later?” Sam asked, looking concerned. Maybe even disappointed. “I don’t wanna, I don’t know.”

“Are you worried I’m going to strain my small bruise too much?” Danny teased, butterflies fluttering again at Sam’s genuine worry about his well being. 

 “I don’t know!” Sam spluttered. “I want to make sure my teacher isn’t being held back from teaching me.”

“Sure, sure,” Danny smiled, finding a random surge of confidence and channeling it by mocking one of the first things Sam had said to him. “Aren’t you just a perfect angel?”

Sam immediately fell silent, rolling his eyes deeply and lolling back into his seat, turning away from Danny for a moment before flopping his head back towards Danny. 

“Maybe I am,” Sam joked, giving Daniel a theatrical wink before scoffing and shaking his head, reacting so heavily that Danny figured that he must’ve been genuinely flustered by Danny’s accusation. It was hitting him again now, that Sam might actually like him back. It still felt like a reach, but Danny let the satisfaction of the possibility straighten his spine confidently while Sam continued to sputter. 

--

By the time midterms had come and gone, Danny was beginning to become actually convinced he might have a shot with Sam. A lot of this was attributed to Sam suddenly and consistently indulging in a habit Danny was well acquainted with: kleptomania. 

“Sam, you have got to stop,” Danny said defeatedly after Sam dropped yet another grocery bag of snacks on the table in front of Danny before collapsing in the booth across from him. This study session was at a coffee shop, which Danny thought might deter Sam from his now expected habit of bringing Danny bags of treats and the occasional other small, random items. 

“Why? It’s funny,” Sam insisted as he did every time Danny questioned why the hell he was doing this. “Come on, laugh.”

“I am not laughing, thank you very much,” Danny said haughtily, sifting through the bag with two fingers. “Aw, come on, there’s even more than last time. Those poor store owners you’re robbing are going to start to notice, you know.”

“Whatever, as if they could prove it was me,” Sam scoffed with pride, cracking his neck cockily. 

“Security cams, Sams,” Danny remarked, tying the handles of the bag together. “Seriously, it’s just not worth the risk. I don’t know why you think I’m so desperately in need of a couple hundred granola bars.”

“Totally worth the risk,” Sam argued. “I have a great time doing it, and then you have a great time not starving.”

“Why would I be starving?”

“You said you barely even eat during the days you work. Boom, problem solved, shut up and eat your damn fruit snacks.”

Danny’s heart suddenly began to slam against his ribs as the feelings that accompanied Sam’s shockingly sweet intentions jolted every nerve ending in Danny’s body. 

“You started being a full blown klepto because…you didn’t want me to be hungry?”

“So?” Sam’s voice was sharp and defensive, but when Danny blinked at him, he saw Sam’s eyes soften for a fraction of a second and he knew. 

 “It’s just…actually very nice of you,” Danny said, his voice petering out slightly at the end of his sentence. “Now I kinda feel like a dickhead for yelling at you. Even though I still don’t think you should steal.”

“I accept your apology,” Sam answered jokingly. “So, which homework are we going over today?”

“Oh, we actually don’t have anything due on Friday,” Danny said. “I’m slightly concerned you don’t remember her saying that, but, yeah, we don’t technically don’t have to work on anything.”

“Oh,” Sam said simply, tensing and then relaxing in the same second. “So, we’re just…like, hanging out?”

“I guess,” Danny replied, masking his nerves by taking a sip of his drink. “I mean, we can look ahead in the book. Or you can, like, go if you want.”

“No, no, it’s whatever,” Sam said hurriedly. “I mean, I already ordered a drink, so.”

“Yeah, I mean, then you gotta stay,” Danny teased, still a little surprised by his own ability to flirt so quickly lately. “Maybe we can even attempt a conversation without talking about trigonometry.”

“Sounds like pulling teeth,” Sam agreed, arching a dark brow in amusement. “I’m down.”

“Should I ask you how your day was?”

“Definitely not.”

“What about your childhood?”

Sam bristled but somehow twisted it into a weak smile.

“I don’t know, you were there for a good chunk of it,” Sam smiled, and Danny melted a little. “You weren’t super involved or anything, but you probably know the gist of it.”

“Mm, I guess,” Danny shrugged. “Not enough to know how you went from being such a nice little nerd to…wherever you are now.”

“Is there something wrong with me now?” Sam snapped, giving Danny the stink eye.

“No, no, but you’re definitely a lot different than you were 5 years ago,” Danny went on and Sam swallowed, his eyes traveling in the air next to Danny’s head uncomfortably. 

“True,” Sam agreed sullenly. 

“I didn’t mean to, I don’t know, drag up anything,” Danny said nervously, taking note of the dark cloud settling over Sam’s head. “Just making conversation. I mean, I admit I am curious, but you can change the subject.”

“It’s…fine,” Sam sighed, shifting in his seat and finally taking off his jacket as he talked. “I mean, you know all the shit that went down with my family. I guess it’s just kind of a weird thing for an angsty little teenager to deal with, and doing spontaneous, adrenaline rush inducing shit is a lot easier to do than dealing with emotions. Way more fun, too.”

“I get that,” Danny said softly. “I was worried for you for a while in high school. You didn’t come to school for like a week straight once and I totally thought something bad had happened.”

“Really?” Sam asked. He looked surprised that Danny had remembered that, and he also looked a little guilty.

“I mean, yeah,” Danny stammered. It was true; it had been a little hard not to be on the lookout for Sam after his dad’s mugshot had been plastered on every newspaper in town.

“Well, I was fine,” Sam insisted, guilt still gracing his features. “With everything going on, I figured nobody would care if I stayed away for a little while. I was pretty much just taking tabs in the woods and eating at drive throughs and stirring up shit at random bars.” 

“That sounds like it sucks,” Danny blurted, and Sam looked startled by his candor.

“It did suck,” Sam answered plainly. “But it could have been worse. I mean, I only got arrested once.”

“That’s a miracle,” Danny joked and Sam laughed. 

“Honestly, yeah,” Sam agreed with a feline smirk. “I’ve gotten up to some pretty crazy things in my time.”

“I’d love to hear about them,” Danny smiled, cupping his chin in his hand in an effort to look tuned in completely to Sam. Sam laughed again and mirrored Danny’s cheesy motion with a higher notch of dramatics, making both of them chuckle before Sam launched into a highlights reel of the craziest things he’d experienced in the past couple of years. With every new anecdote, Sam loosened up more and more, his eyes staying round and playful as he gesticulated often and laughed between his words. Even though his stories painted him as some kind of a wild thrill seeker, the Sam sitting in front of Danny was exuberant, sweet, and kept collapsing into fits of giggles that made him snort and giggle all over again. Danny couldn’t help but stare.

-- 

   Suddenly it was November, and Danny and Sam put their heads together to work through the review packet they’d been given. The truth is that the review packet had all the basics of the units they’d gone through, and the professor had said that the final was going to be a collection of all the simplest concepts so there was no reason to unnecessarily stress, but Danny and Sam began to study like it was the bar exam. At this point, both of them were quietly aware that Sam would be able to pass this final without Danny’s help, and that their studying sessions didn’t actually involve all that much studying anymore. They’d go to the library or a coffee shop or any kind of quiet establishment, pull out their folders and pencils and calculators, and then not touch them for the next couple of hours while they chatted. On a few occasions, Sam would shut down when the conversation got too close for him, and Danny knew that during those times he was waiting for Danny to go, but he never did. He’d pick a new topic, broach it carefully, and wait for Sam to warm back up to him. That unthinking kindness was a big part of why Sam actually started to feel comfortable opening up to Danny, even if it was only a little bit. It was also why Sam started to feel like he would do anything to get alone with Danny, such as feigning that he absolutely needed them to start meeting up twice a week more than once. Right before the actual test, Sam even considered inviting Danny over to his place to…not study, he wouldn’t get away with saying that’s why he wanted him over. That’s why he never ended up offering. Part of it was shame, honestly. He didn’t like the imagery of Danny, bright and clean, standing in the basement he called home and pretending to like it. Or even actually liking it, seeing as he seemed to like everything Sam pitched to him, even when it was a tale of arson or getting an unseemly tattoo in an unseemly place. 

What it was, really, was that Sam wanted Danny alone because he had a big, fat crush on him. When he’d first seen Danny in class, he’d recognized him from school, sure, but his first thought was that he was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. So gorgeous that he looked entirely out of place hunched over his laptop in a stained t-shirt that he assumed doubled as his uniform for work. Sam wasn’t stupid, he knew that his look attracted his stares, and usually he loved the attention. But he felt uncharacteristically nervous when he began to notice that Danny’s eyes couldn’t stay off of him during class. In fact, even after becoming friends and becoming arguably close friends, he still felt nervous under Danny’s gaze. He wanted to keep his eyes on him at all times, and as the last day of class drew near, he was worried he was going to lose it. Sam knew he had to make a move. He just wasn’t sure how.

--

“Come over.”

Danny blinked.

“Hm?” Danny asked with a closed mouth, looking up from his paper to see that Sam wasn’t even looking at him. Sam was regarding the motor oil under his nails with great intensity.

“Come over,” Sam repeated, slowly and theatrically. “After the final tomorrow. We’ll party and lay a semester of unrelenting torment to rest.”

“Oh,” Danny replied dumbly, suddenly feeling very warm under the collar of his green sweater. “Yeah, sure, sounds fun. Should I bring anything?”

“Nah, I’ve got enough liquor to be deemed a public fire hazard,” Sam grinned, finally looking at Danny to flash him his teeth. “You’ll probably have to crash for the night, though. We’re going to get pretty fucked up.”

“Oh, are we?” Danny challenged with a smile of his own. “I don’t know how wild a two person party can get.”

“I’d invite other people but they wouldn’t understand the true heart of the party like we do,” Sam explained dryly. “You can pick what we watch.”

“Sweet,” Danny sang, his knee bouncing from jitters under the table. He couldn’t stop thinking about the prospect of sleeping in the same room as Sam. “Do I get to sleep on the couch, or is it a pillow and a blanket situation?”

“Whatever you want, bro,” Sam answered coolly, looking back to his nails. “All I know is you don’t get the bed.”

“You must be so proud of your twin size mattress.”

“Hey, she sees plenty of play,” Sam purred, blatantly lying. He winked and Danny rolled his eyes, landing his attention back on his paper.

“If ‘she’ saw plenty of play, you wouldn’t still have a twin,” Danny accused, his stomach turning at the thought of anyone other than him in that bed with Sam. Sam scoffed.

“Hey now, mattresses are expensive as fuck,” Sam argued, reaching a defensive headspace where his arms crossed and his lip curled. Danny loved it.

“True, true,” Danny humored him. “So, do I get to ride home with you on your big scary motorcycle or do I have to follow you in my car?”

“We’ll see if your excuse for a car can keep up with my Harley. I’ve been meaning to ask you to drag race, anyways.”

“My sheer spite would make my car go faster than your tricycle.”

“Tricycle?!”

Danny laughed as Sam flew into a sputtering tirade of defending his motorcycle, counting out bullet pointed arguments on his fingers as Danny sat there with a dopey smile on his face. Danny wondered if Sam had caught on to the fact that he fired him up just so he could watch him fizzle down. At the same time, Sam wondered if Danny knew how much he liked that he did that.

--

Danny’s nerves began to run wild about halfway through his final. Not because of any uncertainty at his answers, but because as time passed, he realized just how soon he’d be at Sam’s. He was worried about what he’d be like after a few drinks and finding himself completely alone with the man he’d begun to fantasize about more and more every day. Actually, he hadn’t thought of much else but what he was going to do about this hangout time with Sam, or rather, what he wanted to do. A gentle, almost innocent crush had morphed so quickly in such a short time, and his feelings were quickly developing in a way that kept his head filled with images of his hands on Sam’s hips and how Sam’s neck might look when covered in bruises. As one of those thoughts started to drift into his mind, his thoughts whispering about how it was a very real possibility, Danny’s pencil began to fly over his paper as he hurried to finish as fast as possible.

Sam didn’t keep Danny waiting for very long after he did finally turn in his final and hurry out into the hallway. Sam had dressed pretty nice for once, in his own uniquely Sam way. He had on a rumpled white shirt with a dark green leather jacket, paired with dark jeans that boasted only a few scuffs and minor rips. He stomped after Danny down the hall in heavy workmans boots.

“How was it for you?” Sam asked, his body language bordering on giddy as they burst out the doors into a chilly, biting breeze that immediately reddened both their cheeks and noses. 

“Honestly? It was kind of easy,” Danny said brightly and Sam immediately let out a laugh, kicking an icy stick as they approached where they’d parked their respective vehicles nearby. 

“I knew you’d say that, ugh,” Sam complained. 

“What, was it hard for you?”

“No, it’s just more annoying when things are easy for you,” Sam explained. “‘Cause everything’s easy to you, so, like, duh, of course you thought it was easy.”

“Sorry for being smart?” Danny laughed apologetically.

“Yeah, you better be.”

Danny scoffed and Sam laughed, brushing a few stray leaves off the seat of his bike and straddling it. Danny’s breath caught slightly when Sam adjusted himself, his back arching for a few seconds before he settled down, fiddling with his gloves while Danny dragged his gaze away from the seat of his bike. They weren’t even at Sam’s yet, and he started to become really worried about his capacity for self control.

-- 

Danny worried again when they arrived at Sam’s grungy apartment building and he watched Sam flip his hair over his shoulder as he fumbled for his keys. 

Danny worried some more when Sam insisted on standing sideways in the doorway to dramatically present his living room to him, so that Danny felt his chest drag against his upper arm as he squeezed past. 

Danny worried the most in the moments right after the door closed. Sam pressed his back against the wood coquettishly while grinning softly at Danny, and Danny sort of floated out of himself when he felt his body turn on his heel and march right up to Sam. Sam’s eyes widened and his goofy introductory remarks died on his tongue as he looked up at Danny in puzzlement right before Danny gently palmed the side of his tattooed throat and brought his lips to Sam’s. And Sam, the rough edged, chain smoking, eye rolling, pain of a man immediately buckled at the knee and sighed into the contact, his rough hands grazing Danny’s neck before diving into his hair. Danny felt his entire body go blindingly white hot with nerves as he gasped and went in for another kiss, his jaw angling perfectly against Sam’s as he held him firmly against the door. Sam arched against the wood and into Danny’s touch, melting against whatever contact he could find on the taller man. After a minute of Sam writhing and Danny nearly blacking out from the pleasure of Sam’s soft lips on his own, Danny finally pulled away for a deep breath of air, maintaining frenzied eye contact with Sam as he watched him paw lightly at his neck and take gasping breaths. 

“Hey,” Danny breathed, his voice raspy and shaking. “I’m sorry, I should have-”

“Took you fucking long enough,” Sam cut him off, his shining lips splitting into a wild smile. “I mean, fuckin’ A, man. I was starting to think I was reading into nothing.”

“Definitely not nothing,” Danny replied quietly. “A very nervous something.”

“Well, the something is mutual,” Sam grinned, giving Danny a proper up and down with his eyes and chuckling softly. “Very, very mutual.”

“Cool,” Danny said shyly, dipping his head to try and hide his smile, as if he hadn’t just slammed Sam against a door to steal a kiss. 

“Come back,” Sam whined softly, grasping Danny by the collar of his corduroy jacket and pulling him back into his embrace. “Come on, don’t be a tease any more than you already are.”

“I’m a tease?” Danny asked with delighted disbelief, smiling into the contact of Sam beginning to kiss along his jaw and neck. “You were the one who was going to make me sleep on the floor tonight.”

“Oh, baby, you were never going to be sleeping on the floor,” Sam whispered in his ear, kissing his jaw and working his way up to giving Danny one, long kiss on the lips before speaking again. “I always get what I want.”

“You want me?” Danny asked against his lips, getting lost in the wide expanse of Sam’s dark eyes. 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Sam purred, cupping Danny’s jaw and pulling him into a series of slow kisses while Danny’s mind continued to reel at Sam’s reciprocity. With Sam biting his lip and kissing it better in succession, along with his willowy fingers tracing down Danny’s chest, Danny was honestly beginning to find it hard that this wasn’t a miracle from the universe. Or maybe some kind of dream that he’d fallen into without realizing. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend that this scenario was exactly what Sam had been picturing for their evening the entire time. 

Once Sam’s tongue made its way into Danny’s mouth, adding warmth and licking smoothly, Danny started to hurriedly shrug off his jacket and toss it blindly behind him before starting to work Sam’s off of him. It exposed the patchwork of tattoos along Sam’s arms, tigers and daggers and snakes in the traditional style popping against the white of his shirt. To his surprise, Sam’s hands left Danny’s cheeks and boldly slid up under his sweater, causing Danny to flinch and yelp at the feeling of Sam’s ice cold fingers on his warm skin. Sam giggled, still keeping their lips locked together as he grabbed at Danny’s waist and sides, his hands unable to stay in one place. Matching Sam’s reckless abandon, Danny suddenly bent at the knee and hooked his arms around Sam’s thighs, boosting him into the air. Sam hummed into his mouth, crossing his legs behind Danny’s back and snaking his hands out from under Danny’s sweater to tangle back into his curls.

“My bedroom is the door behind you to the right,” Sam mumbled breathlessly, fidgeting slightly against Danny’s firm front.

“That’s awful forward of you,” Danny flirted, taking a moment to breathe and appreciate the weight of Sam in his arms, holding him up with very little effort. This could come in handy.

“Well, do you want to fuck me or not?” Sam scoffed, a further blush flushing his face as he said it. His pupils completely swallowed up the warm brown of his iris as he stared expectantly at Danny, who had to take a second to concentrate on not cumming in his jeans right then and there.

“Yes, god, yes,” Danny answered quickly, immediately starting a slow, backwards walk towards Sam’s bedroom as Sam grinned wolfishly and descended on Danny’s mouth hungrily again. 

Eventually, they fumbled their way into the bedroom, Sam closing the door behind them before Danny dropped him on the bed and climbed over him. Danny considered continuing with his conquest, but he found himself looking up to observe his surroundings. Sam’s bedroom was small, with wrinkled posters and flyers for basement shows and concerts peppering the gray walls. There were clothes all over the floor, along with the butts of cigarettes and a myriad of worn out sneakers and boots. Sam watched Danny’s expression carefully as he assessed the mess that was his room, his eyes tracking the pattern on his quilt before smiling at Sam again. 

“It’s cute in here,” Danny declared, looking at a string of lights taped to the borders of the walls while Sam blinked in surprise at his words. 

“No, it’s not,” Sam muttered, looking around his room and seeing only the disregard for his own environment in the mess he’d created.

“Nah, it’s all very you,” Danny explained, looking at the room and seeing the person behind it all. He imagined Sam wobbling on a stool to paint the walls their moody gray, or pulling his quilt out of a box and smoothing it lovingly over the sheets, wondering if it had been made for him by a relative or hand picked from a thrift shop with a curated eye. It was all painfully adorable to him. It was all so…Sam. 

Sam saw the adoring shine in Danny’s crinkled, hazel eyes and felt all his seductive confidence fly out the window, only able to bat his lashes up at him and marvel.

“You really don’t think I’m a scuzzball, do you?” Sam asked with a note of amused realization, his sentence lifting into a slight one note laugh. 

“Never have,” Danny answered honestly, cocking his head at Sam while smiling warmly. “I mean, you can pretend all you want, but I know you’re not who you pretend to be. You’re just…”

“What?” Sam challenged, slightly defensive of the persona he’d worked hard to maintain over the years, and also slightly embarrassed that Danny had seen through it so effortlessly.

“You’re just you, I guess,” Danny shrugged as best he could while holding his weight on his elbows, still hovering over Sam’s reclined body. “And that’s not very scary to me.”

Sam was silent for a minute, unsure of what to say to that. Initially, he’d been annoyed that Danny was so nice to him, figuring the other shoe would drop at any time and he’d reveal his worst intentions. This was a pattern Sam was accustomed to. But Danny really meant what he said. He didn’t just see through Sam, he saw him fully, and Sam realized with a relieved jolt that he had never really been annoyed about it. He was grateful. 

But Sam was still very much in a certain state of mind, and his body reminded him of it when he looked down and saw how his crotch had lifted to press against Danny’s without his realizing. He figured maybe there was a certain way he could show Danny just how grateful he was. 

“Why don’t you show me just how scary you can be?” Sam invited lowly, his hand returning to Danny’s cheek as his thumb swiped over Danny’s bottom lip. This small action seemed to remind Danny of how they’d ended up here, and Sam watched with restrained delight as Danny’s eyes glazed over slightly. 

“What do you want?” Danny asked quietly, adjusting and hovering further over Sam, his look of genuine caring slowly morphing into something almost predatory as he smiled. His hair fell around them, the rest of the world falling away.

“I already told you,” Sam pointed out haughtily. “I want you.”

“I’m getting kind of tired of your attitude,” Danny fired back. “You know I want specifics.”

“Is that what you want? Specifics? Not me?” Sam grinned cheekily, enjoying pressing Danny’s buttons even more now that he was getting the idea that he’d be rewarded for it. Danny rolled his eyes and shook his head at Sam.

“Be that way,” Danny hummed, straightening and sitting hard on Sam’s lap, causing him to let out a strangled whine as Danny pulled his sweater off. “Guess I’ll just call the shots.”

Sam really wanted to conjure up a fiery retort, but his mind went fuzzy and blank at the sight of Danny with his shirt off, his broad chest exposed and his smile cocky and triumphant as he watched Sam flounder wordlessly. Sam became even more aware of the strain in his jeans when his eyes traveled downward and he caught sight of the trail of dark hair just over the waistband of Danny’s pants. 

“Do you even know how much I like you?” Danny started, casually undoing the clasp of his watch and leaning to the side to drop it on Sam’s bedside table while Sam propped himself up on his elbows. “I literally thought I was going to flunk the class because you were so distracting.” 

“I didn’t even talk to you,” Sam said simply, barely audible. 

“Didn’t need to,” Danny affirmed. “My mind did most of the distracting stuff.”

“Like what?” Sam prodded, tipping his chin up to stare unrelentingly at Danny in a pathetic attempt to regain control. Danny, taking advantage of this surprising burst of dominance that Sam seemed to give him, gently grasped Sam’s chin.

“Well, initially, I had all these ideas of how we’d end up kissing for the first time,” Danny explained. “Shockingly, none of them ended up being how it went, but I’m glad I had options. And, I mean, those ideas just sort of developed over time. I’d wake up and be all surprised that I’d cum in my pants and not on you.”

Sam’s jaw hung open and Danny shut it gently for him, his body pulsing with heat as his adrenaline raced in his veins.

“You gonna teach me some more, hm?” Sam finally managed to say, straining to try and steal a kiss. “Or do you want me to lead?”

“I’d like to see you try,” Danny grinned, pushing Sam onto his back. Sam, breathless, watched Danny move his hands down to Sam’s aching groin and begin to undo his pants, fingers shaking with anticipation. Sam pushed his hair off his forehead and pressed his covered dick into Danny’s hand after his pants had been tugged down to his knees, not speaking but letting a needling whimper escape that made Danny smile. 

“What are we going to do with you, Sam?” Danny teased, running his thumb up and down Sam’s concealed length.

“Danny,” Sam choked out as Danny took his hands off of Sam and began to unzip his own pants. The lack of touch was almost unbearable at that moment. “Come on, fuck me, please.”

“That could look like a lot of things,” Danny said absently, freeing his dick and palming it casually, letting out a slow sigh of relief. Sam stared unabashedly at Danny’s impressive and admittedly intimidating length. He’d fantasized about what he might expect, but the real thing was almost overwhelming. But he knew what he needed.

“In me,” Sam whispered, his tone bordering on longing. “Please. I can take it.”

“You can?” Danny questioned, trying to keep up his domineering tone despite the wind being knocked out of his lungs at Sam’s request. “Have you been getting ready for me?”

“Maybe,” Sam admitted quietly. He took a dangerous leap with what he said next. “But those randos don’t even hold a candle to you.”

Danny flinched, jealousy immediately rolling over him in cold waves as his mind started to conjure up disgusting imagery of Sam on his back for anybody other than him. It must have translated into his expression without his knowledge because Sam’s open mouth twisted into a smug smile, arching an eyebrow at Danny. It was a dare, and Danny dared to prove himself. 

“Shut up before I make you,” Danny snarled, challenging Sam to call him out for being all bark and no bite. But Sam obediently shut his trap, lowering himself slightly on his elbows and spread his legs ever so slightly, inviting Danny in without a word. 

--

“So…was I better than those other ‘randos’ stretching you out?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was joking.”

Sam’s whole body was in absolute, delicious agony, his face buried into the crook of Danny’s neck. He attempted to even out his breathing, his throat raw and his chest tired after all the pornographic moans and whimpers that had escaped him when Danny had driven into him with varying amounts of mercy over the course of what felt like hours. Sam’s shoulders were already blooming with a score of bruises where Danny had left teeth marks, anchoring himself to Sam in animalistic moments of passion when he threatened to finish far too early. Danny’s body was aching too, his abs and hips tense and his shoulders in their own pain from holding himself up for so long. It had been worth it to keep the sight of Sam’s gasps and fluttering eyes, and he was certain he had enough material in his mind's eye to keep him satisfied in his own personal endeavors for weeks. Danny brushed his fingers lightly up and down Sam’s spine, his lips pressed to the crown of Sam’s head as they laid in silence, recovering. 

“Do you want to hear something crazy?” Sam said, his voice muffled by Danny’s scorching hot skin. 

“Sure,” Danny replied, giving Sam’s hair a quick kiss after he said it.

“I used to have a crush on you in high school.”

“What!” Danny blurted, attempting to push Sam’s shoulder up so he could see his face, but Sam buried his head even further into Danny’s neck. “Explain!”

“I just did!” Sam laughed, his voice still muted. “It wasn’t anything serious but, yeah, I guess you were kind of my hallway crush. It’s no big deal.”

“Wow,” Danny said dreamily. “And look where you are now. How exciting for you.”

“Shut up!” Sam groaned, finally lifting his head and giving Danny a fake frown, his face glowing and flushed. Danny mocked his frown back to him, laughing at his expression and tucking a sweaty strand of hair behind his ear.

“I definitely thought you were cute,” Danny smiled. “I was super into emo haircuts.”

“I hate you,” Sam deadpanned, looking unamused.

“Is that why you just let me cum in y-”

Sam pressed his palm over Danny’s mouth, muffling his subsequent laugh. Sam let out an exasperated sigh and leaned over to reach into an opened drawer of his bedside table, items rattling out of sight until he emerged with his prize: Marlboro Reds. Sam bit down on a cigarette and slid out another to offer it to Danny, who wrinkled his nose at it initially but took it between his fingers anyways, studying it while Sam pulled free the lighter and rolled onto his back next to Danny.

“You ever smoked?” Sam asked, lighting his cigarette and taking a deep inhale while Danny shook his head no. Sam blew out a thick cloud of smoke before rolling onto his front, taking the cigarette out of Danny’s hand and sticking it in Danny’s mouth himself. Danny wanted to protest, but froze when Sam leaned over and pressed the tip of his lit cigarette to Danny’s, both of them silent save for the crackling of the paper and tobacco as Danny’s cigarette began to glow. He took a hesitant inhale, letting the heady warmth settle on his tongue before he began to cough, sitting up sharply and choking on a cloud of smoke while Sam chuckled and patted him on the back.

“You’ll get there,” Sam assured him through laughs.

“I don’t know if I wanna get there,” Danny wheezed, letting the cigarette fizzle between his fingers instead of taking a second drag. 

“You don’t have to, just figured I’d give you a taste of the wild side,” Sam grinned, the cigarette dangling attractively from his bottom lip.

“You’ve given me more than a taste of that,” Danny said with a wink. Sam chuckled again, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth as he stared with glittering eyes at Danny.

“I like you,” Sam said simply, conjuring the innocent butterflies in Danny’s stomach. 

“Thank you,” Danny answered shyly and Sam immediately slapped his arm.

“Say it back!”

“I like you!” Danny laughed, slapping Sam back. “You knew that!”

“Yeah, but I like hearing you say it,” Sam hummed proudly. 

“You’re weird.”

“You’re weirder.”

“You’re the weirdest,” Danny teased, taking another more careful inhale of his cigarette and releasing it with only a mild clearing of his throat. “Ooh, look, I’m learning.”

“Maybe I had something to teach you after all,” Sam smiled. “I guess I never really needed to bribe you into helping me, huh?”

“Not at all,” Danny said. “But I’m enjoying the reward of just you.”

Sam’s smile widened and Danny smiled right back at him. It suddenly seemed so ridiculous that there had ever been a time when he was afraid to speak to Sam. How could he have looked at his puppy dog eyes and cute shaggy hair and not dragged him into his lap right then and there? Danny figured he had time to rectify that, doing just that and catching Sam in a smoky kiss, suddenly thrilled about all the things that they could continue to teach each other.

--

[toaster-hair]

There’s a Human in the Neighborhood! chapter 3 part 1

(Theres not really anything gross in this chapter, its like a part 1 to the next chapter. Also, some accidental reader x howdy!)

The sun hit you right in your eyes as you woke up. You got up and stretched a bit, your eyes feeling groggy. You rubbed them a bit to get the eye boogers out. By this point, you were quite well adjusted to your sweet little puppet town. One odd thing though, other than the fact that every other resident was a puppet, was the odd lack of an economy. Almost everyone were unemployed, and were always offering things out for free. You, on the other hand, still had to pay for all of your human things. You were still living off the money you brought with you. You actually applied to a new job only a town away not too long ago, and your first day starts today! You were just glad your neighbors were kind enough not to make you pay for anything for so long.

Sally was an actress, but she really only put on plays for her friends. You certainly hadn’t seen her in any movies before.

Frank was a Lepidopterologist, but he didn’t really seem to do anything with that degree. Other than like, stalking Howdy.

Speaking of Howdy, he was one of the two neighbors with an actual job. And he didn’t even ask to be payed in money! He only asked to be payed in jokes or observations, he used to occasionally ask for payment in a kiss on the cheek, but Wally would always stare at you two when you did, so he eventually just stopped asking. The only other neighbor with a paying job was…

“Oh, howdy Y/N! You’re right on time, I have a letter just for you!” Eddie greeted you as you walked out of your house. You smiled and waved, taking the letter out of his hand. It was from your parents, which was odd. Even if this town seemed a bit old fashioned, you still had modern tech. They could have just called you or better yet just sent a text. Eddie watched you open the envelope in your hand. To your surprise, there was 100 dollars inside! “Wow, Y/N, thats a lot of money! What are you going to do with it?”

“I’m probably going to use some of it to pay for my train ticket. Say, what do you do with your money?” you asked him. “Oh, why don’t you follow me?”

You followed him into Howdy’s place. Wally was in there, crunching an apple with those pretty eyes of his. “Y/N!!” he got up from his seat, holding onto your knee and looking up at you. “Oh, hello honey.” Howdy greeted you. Wally snapped his head back to look at him. Eddie walked over to the counter and began to talk to Howdy. You couldn’t really hear him because Wally was calling for your attention, asking you how you’ve been as he hadn’t seen you that much recently, asking you what you plan on buying and how you’re going to spend your day. 

“Oh honey!” Howdy called you over “Come on, we’re going in the backroom.” You blushed a bit, this pet naming was pretty new, so you weren’t used to it. Wally slowly let go of your leg as he watched you make your way over there. Howdy opened the backroom door for you and Eddie, letting it close behind him. Inside the backroom was multiple large jars full of money.

“You see Y/N,” Eddie started to explain to you “As a community, we all decided it was better to just not use money. That it would be better to provide our services for free for eachother. Overtime, we learned how to live without much care to money, living off of stuff we could find easily without pinching a single penny. Any kind of money we get or find we put in these jars. Howdy has to buy stuff for his shop, so hes usually the only one taking money out of these jars. But if one of our neighbors needs help paying for something, like say installing a toilet, we’ll gladly crack a jar open for them.” You nodded as he explained. “So, if you feel as though you have too much money, you can just come here and add it to a jar. Only if you want to, we won’t force you.”

“We thought making everyone work jobs would make everyone unhappy.” Howdy chimed in. “So, it’s really only us handling the money. Do you have a job, Y/N?” 

“Oh yeah, I do actually. I’m starting today.” You then checked the time on your watch, horrified. You were late! You ran out of the building in a rush, waving everyone goodbye, as you ran to the train station.

[pearthery]

will there be more chapters for your potpurri au? no pressure, just curious!

hopefully one day!!! i did have a ginzura-themed draft set in the potpourri au (it's still there ahaha i just haven't added to it in a long while) which was titled something like actually the strawberry flavour in your strawberry milk is really just sugar and red dye. i only got so far as ginzura bullying haggard old man hasegawa-san before i lost the plot of it but i aim one day to finish it!!! actually here is a snippet ahaha

After a long day at work ferrying customers back and forth through the endless streams of urban traffic, Taizou slams shut the driver's door to his cab, rolls his shoulders back and his head up, and then nearly bursts into tears. 

"Please stop sitting there," he begs to the demon perched on the wall outside his house. "Please. It gives me a heart attack." 

Yoshida-san's devil child, the one that the man dotes on incessantly, the one that likes to wheedle snacks from Taizou's sweet, innocent wife, the one that has tormented Taizou relentlessly without him even lifting a finger at least three times a week ever since their paths had tragically crossed, stares down dolefully. 

"Hatsu doesn't mind," says Gintoki. "Besides. What's it my fault if pathetic old men die early? An old man who dies from something as lame as a heart attack is like a piece of dog crap stinking things up on the boot of society. An old man who dies from a heart attack is probably dying from something else already anyway, like crappy convenience store cigarettes or the weight of their own failures or their sunglasses leeching out all of their braincells like a cursed object."

"That's Hatsu-san to you," says Taizou, for lack of anything else. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway, old men like that are already like zombies anyway. Even if they die, they'll still get up and go back home and leech off Hatsu." Gintoki pinches around the outsides of his nostrils thoughtfully, probably in search of stray boogers.

Taizou drags his hands down his face. He heaves a large sigh. His blood pressure has been climbing upwards for years at this point. "Aren't you too old to be doing things like this? Don't you have to get home? Don't you have anything better to do? Don't you have too much homework to be bullying poor, working men just trying to get by? God help me." 

"Pft," says Gintoki, twelve years old and mean as hell. "As if God would listen to dog crap like you." 

ooo

The first thing to ask, obviously, is why Gintoki is here.

"It's because he's run away from home again," explains Katsura-kun, politely letting himself into the kitchen through the back door. He gestures over at Gintoki (rifling through Taizou's refridgerator shelves for sweet treats) and beams at Hatsu (heading out to the garden) when she pats him on the head, even though the kid's almost as tall as she is now. 

"Yeah," says Gintoki. He settles down at the table with a cup of chocolate mousse. 

Taizou gazes wearily at the scene. 

"Don't just come into my house like that. Who even invited you? And you. I was going to eat that. I was going to have that for dessert tonight." 

Gintoki's eyes go wide and he makes a noise of surprise. "Hm? Oh, this l'il thing? Sorry. It just looked so lonely in the back of your fridge. I thought I'd keep it company. Anyway, I'm a growing boy, so I need all the sugar I can get." 

"I put it up at the front so I could take it out for dessert. I was really looking forward to that."

"It's probably better that you don't eat too much sugar anyway, old man," Gintoki adds. "I heard too much sweet stuff is bad for geezers."

"You know what. Fine. Go ahead," says Taizou.

"If you're hungry or peckish," says Katsura-kun, "then I'm not sure Hasegawa-san's pantry is the best place. It would really have been better for you to stay home and let Yoshida-san stuff you with, what's that he's been baking a lot recently? I think they were lemon rosemary cookies." He pauses and looks to his left, where Gintoki nods absently into his chocolate mousse. 

"Yes, that's right. Lemon rosemary shortbread cookies. They were quite good actually. Yoshida-san gave me a container to take home. I stopped by their house after school, that's why," he says to Taizou, whose expression must be showing the confusion bouncing around his brain. "He even sat me down to discuss the symbolism of the ingredients he used. He said: half a cup of sugar for the sweetness of existence, half a teaspoon of vanilla extract, a quarter of a teaspoon of salt for the tears shed in existence, a cup of butter, smooth and slippery, like all the things that slip out of your grasp—"

"Hey, what do you mean my pantry's not the best place?," says Taizou after a moment of realisation. "I work hard to feed myself and my wife, you know that, you brats? This whole day I was driving around rude, shithead city people who smoke in my cab and spill disgusting sticky soft drinks on my seats, and this is what I come home to?" 

"You're the shithead who smokes in your cab," says Gintoki. "If your car smells like smoke, then that's because you're stinking it up in the first place, so it's your own fault."

"Are you really a little kid?" says Taizou. "Why do you have such a crude mouth for a kid? Why is everything you say so mean?"

"Hey, you're the one who said 'shithead' in the first place. I'm just repeating what you said. I'm an impressionable young boy, so you should be watching your mouth, actually. You should be a good role model." 

"Don't your neighbours smoke? I see Tatsugoro-san with his pipe around all the time, are you this mean to him? Are you this mean to Ayano-san? You aren't, are you? You're only this mean to me. I'm the only one you call a pathetic old man, aren't I? I'm the only one you unleash all of your insults on, aren't I? You only call me dog crap on the boot of society." 

"—two cups of all-purpose flour, soft and bright, for all the things that are so delicate that they can be blown away in a single breath, rosemary for fidelity and remembrance, oh Gintoki, what have I done that I don't deserve your fidelity, oh Gintoki, remember me, won't you Gintoki, wherever you have gone to, away from me, preserve the memory of me in your soul, even when you so evidently can no longer stand to look at my face—"

"Shoyo has a dumb face," says Gintoki to Katsura-kun. "And I'm just going to stay at your house for a week or two. I go to your house all the time."

"Well, you forget that Yoshida-san is possessed by a thousand spirits of melodrama," says Katsura-kun. "Also, lastly, lemon for bitterness. That said, I have a container for you as well, Gintoki."

Gintoki wrinkles his nose. "I don't want it, thanks." 

"I'll take it," says Taizou, having been demolished by a middle schooler. "I need a pick-me-up." The container is swiftly slid across to him. "Thanks."

He opens the lid to find resting on top of the pile of warm biscuits a small square note embossed with spiky leaves around the edge. It's covered with pen drawings of hearts and sad faces and reads: FOR MY STINKY LITTLE SWEETPEA WHO IS ALWAYS WELCOME TO COME BACK HOME AT ANYTIME HE DECIDES TO RETURN HOME MOST HOPEFULLY SOON. <3.

"I wonder what Hatsu's doing outside," says Taizou. If he arches his neck, he can glimpse through the window. She's tending to the flowerbeds, it looks like. She pulls out a couple of weeds. Katsura-kun looks as if he knows exactly what is contained in Gintoki's care package (kid probably watched the note be written) and is politely ignoring it. Gintoki's face is very bland.

"Looks like there's some paper in here. With some writing on it. And some little pictures." He takes a bite out of what really is a good biscuit, sweet and buttery and still warm. Yoshida-san seriously is a good baker. "So these are kind of like fortune cookies, yeah?"

"Huh, says Katsura-kun. "I didn't get anything in mine."

"Huh," says Taizou, with maximum discretion. "Weird. Maybe something happened at the fortune cookie factory and they had a mix-up. Welp, since I'm an old geezer and I've had enough of both sorts 'a fortune, good or bad, in my lifetime, I guess you kids can have mine."

Silently, he folds up the note. Gintoki's hand is already open and outreached, though he refuses to look at it. Underneath that note is another one, which is a mournfully calligraphed poem about the temporary nature of happiness and domestic bliss that has additionally been annotated. He passes that one over as well.

"Anyway, Katsura-kun," he continues, "what was that recipe? Can you say it again, or maybe write it down? Hatsu might like it. She's mentioned wanting to try her hand at baking these days." 

[mirandalevi]

1

THE RULES

I WAS NINE years old when I died for the first time. I was nine years old when I learned how to relive my past. I was nine years old when I experienced my first glimpse into the future. Nine was a big year for me.                

I’ve made a habit of living my life according to a handful of rules I’ve set over the years. So far, as long as I follow them, I stay alive, and my sanity prevails. Unfortunately, I also think this might be where I went wrong.

Rule Number 1: Never give away the future unless someone will die. Even then, maybe make a pros and cons list. It might come across as heartless, but everything is for your safety. Also, if it appears like it can’t possibly backfire, in my experience, it usually does.

Rule Number 2: Never acknowledge the ghosts. Don’t talk to them. They are endlessly annoying. While some of them may need help, most just want company and attention. All I’m saying is I warned you.

Rule Number 3: Never pry into someone’s head. It’s none of my business or yours what someone thinks of their husband’s new dildo fascination, that you like to pick your boogers and wipe them under your boss’s desk when he’s not looking, your incredibly creepy internet stalking habits, these are some of the things I just don’t want to know.

Please don’t beg me to read you. You need to understand, I have enough problems of my own, and I don’t need yours too. I’m not a party trick to show off to your friends. Maybe I helped you one day, against my better judgment. Or you learned something you shouldn’t know because I slipped up and told you. These are not open invitations for you to spill my secrets to the world.

Rule Number 4: Stay in your own body. If God forbid, it gets lost or misplaced; it can be a pain in the ass to track a body back. Not that I’ve ever done it. Okay, I haven’t done it recently, and that’s what counts.

Rule Number 5: Never get caught moving objects with your mind. It could mean certain death! Well, maybe not certain death. It hasn’t killed me yet, but people get scared. There is no way to tell what a fear-fueled human is capable of, this much, I’m sure. Plus, nobody likes a show-off.

My name is Faer. I’ve always thought my parents were laughing at my expense, naming me Faer, especially when all my siblings have relatively normal names. In grade school, children were ruthless. Someone thought it was oh-so-funny to point out I must be the “fairest of them all,” like I hadn’t heard that joke a hundred times in the boy’s locker-rooms. Eventually, it earned me the nickname Snow White. It was shortened to Whites by my buddies over time. As I grew older, I seemed to grow into Faer. Now, I even sort of like it most days.

Mom was pregnant for the first twelve years of my life, or so it seemed. Coming in at number four of eleven meant getting overlooked a lot. Battling for attention was a pointless cause. There wasn’t enough to go around. Besides, I found other ways to entertain myself, particularly after my ninth birthday.

IN THE WINTER of 1970, my family lived in Hood River, Oregon. Lumbering down at the streets below from atop a large hill was our uninviting blue Victorian. December was intensely nasty, and the snow-covered hillsides were a siren’s call to each of us. We didn’t often have enough money for a proper sled, but a garbage bag or a cardboard box always worked in a pinch.

One Friday after breakfast, my older siblings and I decided to journey the two blocks from our house to the local Tire and Rubber Company. The store manager and my father were drinking buddies, and I think he always had a soft spot for us kids. He wouldn’t mind us sledding behind his shop, as long as we didn’t leave our makeshift sleds behind.

There was a steep forty-foot hill behind the building. A wall of ivy lined the path down to the bottom, where a small construction site clustered. The rumor was they were building a new theater. Despite the construction site, we dubbed the area the perfect place for sledding.

All afternoon we slid down that hill. I would use the path my older brother laid in the snow to climb back up. I grabbed onto nearby ivy as a makeshift rope, only to slide back down as soon as I’d made it to the top. We were coming up with as many new and foolish ways to sled down the hill as we could: backward, in a sibling chain, on our bellies, and we even tried to stand up and surf the hill like a giant snow-crested wave.

When hours of fun passed, the sky lit with the vibrant pinks and purples of a cold northwest evening, and echoes of my father’s voice yelling from the house drifted in the air. It was dinnertime. This meant one thing to us Michelson children: get home pronto.

My dad was the kind of man every child feared. The Cherokee passed down through his grandmother showed prominently in his cheekbones, and, on the off chance, he graced you with it, his broad smile. He was gruff and frequently unshaven. His deep voice caused every adolescent to remember there were consequences for unruly children. No one crossed, Dad. He had a number of painful belts that reminded us how to behave, should we forget. In his mind, children were seen but never meant to be heard.

My oldest brother, Patrick Junior, was fourteen, five years my senior. He was always the one left in charge. While his big blue eyes got him out of trouble with teachers, he often took the brunt of punishments from Dad when things went wrong with my siblings.

Being Mr. Responsible, Patrick repeated the call of Dad. “If you dawdle, Dad will be pissed. You gonna pick your switch tonight, Faer? Cus Dad’s going to color your ass bruised.”

“Yea, I know,” I said.

As my three siblings started to head home, I turned back around to the hill. I wanted to go down one more time, and impulse got the best of me.

“Whites, you better get your butt back to the house. I’m not going to save you,” Patrick said. He gave me the bossy older brother look. You know the one.

“Just one more time,” I said.

“Your life, dude. If dad asks, I’m telling him you wouldn’t listen,” Patrick said. He turned and left without a second thought.

I curved back around with a renewed rush of excitement. I took out my plastic bag and sat down at the edge of the hill. I inhaled a deep breath of icy air and pushed myself over one last time—the wind in my face and the smell of crisp snow lingering on a plume of fog, my arms outstretched; it was exhilarating.

It was also short-lived.

When I got to the bottom, I started thinking about what Patrick said. I didn’t want to make dad mad. I’d had a minor lapse in judgment. One more turn down the hill seemed worth it at the time, but I started to rethink my choice. If I hurried, I might still be able to catch up with my brother and sisters.         

I latched onto the vines and started up the hill—one foot at a time. I was sure to climb into the pre-existing path Patrick made. I neared the top when I heard a loud snap.

My head was down. I was too busy watching my feet and didn’t lookup. The ivy broke, and I fell backward down the slope, feet overhead. I lost control of my body, unable to grab anything to brace myself or slow down. I reached out, but my fingers slipped through the snow. I kept tumbling down the hill until I lost consciousness.

WHEN I CAME to, I wasn’t outside in the snow anymore, but I was somewhere else–vast, yet empty. Had I been moved? I stood in a large open area I’d never experienced before (because an experience was the only way to describe where I was).

It was too quiet, no noise at all—no rustling of trees, no chirping of birds, not even the sound of my heartbeat. My surroundings were opaque but still too bright. Although the natural temperature was a relief, somewhere in the logical part of my brain, I knew I should be scared. Except, I felt more at home than I ever had in my real home for a reason I couldn’t put words to.

I blinked and found a woman standing over me. Had she been there the whole time, or did she just arrive? As I moved to sit up and assess my surroundings, she stepped back, giving me the space to move. She watched me take in the view with a look of, dare I say, admiration?

I wish I could describe her in accurate detail. I don’t think even if a scale reached one million, I could tell you exactly how I felt when I was near her. The number I was living in hasn’t been discovered.

At every angle, the woman’s hair was a vivid new color. It held the complexity of a rainbow only a thousand times over. It was as if I saw what color was for the first time. Would my heart leave my chest if I touched her? I didn’t know who she was, but if there is a God, he’s got nothing on her.

We talked.

At the time, I took it all in, gobbling up her every word. Now though, I don’t recall everything that transpired. It felt as though we talked for hours or days, although it could have been weeks. When I was with her, time had no meaning. Everything she said captivated me, and I had so many questions. I remember she answered each of my inquiries with exceptional care. There was no hunger. I never got tired or cold. I was only nine, but I’d never felt healthier or filled with more energy. Finally, after what could have been a century, she looked at me directly. Her eyes filled with the intensity of sky, stars, and the vastness of the cosmos above.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s time,” she said.

“Time for what?” I asked.

“Time to go home, Faer.”

Concern and nerves made adrenalin pulse in my veins. “I don’t want to go. Why can’t I stay here with you?”

This time she looked at me, love and understanding reflected, “You will remember some of this visit, Faer,” she said. “The important things will come back to you when you need the information. When everything has come to pass, then you can and will come back to me.” Her smile was soft, and my heartfelt at ease, “For now, you have to go home. Your family will become worried about you.”

The word family barely escaped her mouth before she was gone.

WHEN I OPENED my eyes again, it was dark. The sun had set, and I was alone. I seemed to be back, although from where I couldn’t say.

I was lying on the hard ground, covered in more than two inches of snow. I sat up too quickly, and my head started to swim. I was at the bottom of the hill once more, but I was covered in blood this time. 

[niisandungeon]

I'm taking part in the Dungeon23 challenge, with the theme for now being spelunking! It’s been super fun, although it’s hard to come up with so many rooms... Notes on the first floor of Celestial's Shelter below:

CELESTIAL’S SHELTER FLOOR 1

Near the remote hamlet of Loghaven exists a cave, known to locals as the Celestial’s Shelter. Most would steer clear of the caverns, but adventurers with a liking for tight places and hungry to uncover the fabled celestial sometimes explore the cave, some of them never to be seen again, for the caves go deep, and earth is unrelenting once it has its grip on you…

1. Entryway, nothing of note except a collapsed entrance to a cave to the east. Perhaps someone could squeeze through? 2. A room with a rockslide. There’s a years dead spelunker called “Ted” there, as well as their diary noting that they lost their best caving hat escaping “something or someone, deep in the caves”.

Entry 40

New town, new adventure! Loghaven smells of cow piss and has only one tavern, but it’s cozy enough. Lots of log houses, even more flies. Acorn says it’s a lot like his hometown, except taller. An old tiefling, Bebbe, they told us over drinks of a cave southeast of Loghaven, of caverns called Celestial’s Shelter. Apparently one of those got injured and went and died there hundreds of years ago, if local legend is to be believed. No one knows how or why, but, well, Ted and Acorn will go and get some answers, maybe find a celestial’s corpse to sell, and who knows, maybe we’ll see some sights dwarves only dream about!

Entry 41

After a day or so of trekking we found the entrance to the cave. Bebbe remembered the way well, even if he’d last been here as a child. Seems like there’s two other entryways closeby, as well as a drop from above if you’re willing to climb very high up, but we don’t know where that would lead, if it leads anywhere at all. All in all, it seems promising. It’s true what Acorn said as we were getting here though, it looks like not a lot of people come here. Suits us. I prefer Acorn’s company anyway.

Entry 42

All in all, excluding the bear scare, it’s been one of those safer trips. Not a bat, goblin or other cave dwelling creature in sight! Acorn tells me he’s heard someone breathing while I was asleep, but it’s just the wind howling through the cave. I just gotta find a way to distract him, that’s all, so that he won’t be so spooked anymore. It’s silly of me, but I want Acorn to feel safe as much as I want to discover that damn angel’s corpse. He’s been with me the longest out of all my old partners. Dare I say he even likes me? As friends, of course. Nothing more.

Entry 43

Nothing of note happened after we settled in deeper into the caverns. The room is just very, very wet. Acorn’s vigilant, just very jumpy. He saw some oozes, so we’re gonna avoid the rooms to our left, block them a bit with rocks or at least set them up so that we’ll be alerted if the slimy boogers get too close. Just when I said not a creature in sight. It’s never that easy, is it?

Entry 45

Damn it all! Fourth day, and I fell down and twisted my ankle on those slippery stairs. There goes our last healing salve! Acorn will do some solo exploring while I heal, but I can do some excavating on the western walls. There’s a small hole there I know I can make it large enough for both me and Acorn to pass. It’s strange. Even I've heard something from there. It sounds like weeping. Could it be our angel?

Entry 46

I got spooked by rockfall and lost my hat. That was my lucky caving hat! Gotta be more careful from now on. Acorn’s gonna be sad if all he finds is my crushed innards popping out from underneath a rock.

Entry 47

I have to admit it: Acorn is lost. It’s been a full day. I’m trying not to panic. He’s smaller than me, so he can fit into much smaller spaces, and well, we’re not some wizards so we don’t always know where we are, in caves like these. Still, I’m gonna wait for him for two more hours, and then go back into the caves to look for him. He’s one tough gnome. He has to be alive.

Last Entry, written in blood

Something follows

deep

I was fast, but the walls

it’s watching me die

unlucky

3. A bear cave’s entrance! 4. Where the bear sleeps! 5. Second, slightly more accessible entrance to 2., with pansies growing on the rocks. 6. A room greatly affected by the rockslide. There’s a chest with some items caught under the rocks… 7. Where Ted lost his hat. A room full of tight crawls, which seem to breathe with you if you enter… 8. A large cavernous room with a high ceiling. There are signs of a campfire here, although it hasn’t been used in a while… If you sleep here, it feels like someone is watching you. 9. An earthy smelling room. 10. A secret room with giant, edible mushrooms! They are delicious! 11. Narrow passages, leading to deeper parts of the caverns… Sometimes it sounds like someone is weeping far away, deeper in the tunnels. 12. Small room, with dried bloody footprints on the floor… 13. A larger passageway, with water flowing into it from somewhere. 14.-17. Part of a larger collection of rooms, all filled with awful smelling stale water, algae and oozes. 18. Where the bear hides its poop. It has crystallized into a sort of dark rock. Wonder what use that could have? 19. A small climb reveals another way, somewhere? 20. A small room that seemingly holds nothing, but a small hole will be revealed to those with a keen eye. / Respite from what seems like an endless crawl! 21. Climb down, and another small hole is revealed? Where will it lead? / Finally, somewhere where you can stand up! Maybe now you can feel safe… 22. The Red Tunnel, the tunnel that goes on forever. Red gravel digs into your skin as you crawl through this passage, and sometimes you swear it seems like something is tugging at the heels of the one who is crawling last. 23.-25. More ooze infested caverns. The creatures seem to avoid these areas though, by instinct… 26. A spiral that leads nowhere. It feels like the cave is mocking you when you reach the end and have to back out to where you came from. 27. Last of the ooze caves. This seems like a place they haven’t really been to, and it’s relatively safe. The algae here is different and could be harvested for use elsewhere. 28. Natural light streams into this cave. It’s another way in, but not really out, not with how you’re supposed to just drop down and hope for the best. 29. A narrow passage that seems to lead nowhere. However, if you’re perceptive you might feel air escaping somewhere, and either find a way out of a very long crawl or start one. 30. What seem like giant steps, smooth from thousands of years of minimal water flow lead down, deeper still… 31. If you’re perceptive in the Red Tunnel, you might notice rocks that seem like they are placed to hide a tunnel. The climb leads down, into a passage that seems like it will never let go, but once you manage to pass though, a large cavern awaits you, although you might wish to return whence you came from. Unnatural darkness seeps from a crack in the ground, and it sucks in all light you have, revealing none of its secrets. It seems to lead down, somewhere, but only if you’re willing to jump…

[petculiars]

Why Is Dental Care Important in Cats?

New Post has been published on https://www.petculiars.com/why-is-dental-care-important-in-cats/

Why Is Dental Care Important in Cats?

Caring for a new kitten can be interesting, but it is also a huge responsibility. Most people know that they need to take care of the basics, such as food, water, and bed, but there are so many other things to consider. So, before you decide to bring home a kitten, make sure you know what it takes to give them the best chance of having a healthy and happy life.

Routine veterinary visits, vaccinations, parasite detection, and prevention, as well as sterilization and castration, are all vital to the overall health of a pet. But did you know that the dental health of your kitten is equally important? More than half of cats over the age of three suffer from dental diseases.

Cats have some of the same dental problems as dogs, yet feline dental care is probably the most neglected and untreated. This article will focus on cat dental care, including common dental conditions, treatment, and how owners can take care of their cat’s teeth at home.

Cat’s teeth and tooth eruption

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How to take care of your chinchilla’s teeth

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Why does my cat have black boogers

Cats, like humans, have two sets of teeth in their lives. The kitten teeth are called primary or milk teeth, then as they fall they are replaced with permanent or adult teeth. Kittens are born without visible teeth. Around the age of three weeks, the milk teeth will begin to erupt.

By the age of four months, all 26 primary teeth should be visible. By the time a kitten reaches six to seven months, all 30 permanent teeth should have appeared.

Before adult teeth erupt through the gums, they begin to develop from the dental buds located in the upper and lower jaws. As adult teeth develop, they will start pressing on the roots of the milk teeth, and then things get a little complicated. The process usually begins around the age of 11 to 12 weeks.

During this time, cats may have symptoms like salivation, difficulty when eating, and may be easily irritable. Most kittens will have the desire to chew things, and usually things that they shouldn’t! A characteristic smell of breathing can also be noticed. This smell is normal and should disappear with the end of the tooth eruption process.

Tips

While your kitten goes through the phase of teeth changing, try to redirect chewing to acceptable objects, such as approved chewing toys. Do not allow them to chew things that could damage their teeth or your house.

Retained milk teeth

By the time a kitten reaches six to seven months old, adult teeth should have appeared. Sometimes, cats’ milk teeth fail to fall out and continue to occupy the space where only adult teeth should be. When milk teeth do not fall out to make room for permanent ones, they are called retained milk teeth. Retained milk teeth should be surgically extracted once they are discovered to avoid dental problems.

When milk teeth and permanent teeth try to occupy the same space, this double row of teeth overcrowd the mouth, so food is trapped between the teeth. Trapped foods can cause periodontal disease, an infection of the tissue that keeps teeth in place.

In addition, double sets of teeth mean that there will be double sets of roots. This will prevent the normal development of the tooth socket and eventually erode the support of the gum around the adult tooth. Remember, once you discover retained milk teeth you should get your cat to the veterinarian to surgically remove them to avoid dental problems.

Dental care and prevention at home

Toothpaste and brushing

If you start brushing your kitten’s teeth at an early age, they may accept this easier when they are older, and their adult teeth have erupted. Do not use human toothpaste.

The toothpaste comes in a variety of cat flavors, including chicken and tuna. Find one that your cat likes, and try to brush her teeth at least three times a week, or more if she allows you!

Wipes, special solutions, and dental pads

When cats age a little, they may not tolerate brushing. Some animals, especially those with tender gums, will not tolerate brushing but are more receptive to disinfectant wipes or tampons.

Dental wipes, special solutions, and tampons will wipe plaque deposits off the tooth surface. They are not helpful in removing food particles between the tooth and the gum, but they are probably the best thing after brushing. These products can be found in pet stores and are best used daily.

Snacks for dentition

Snacks do not replace brushing, however, cats with permanent teeth may benefit from chewing a proper dental snack daily. This can substantially reduce plaque and tartar by up to 69%. To avoid weight gain, be sure to feed only the recommended amount of delights.

Final words!

The purpose to start dental care for your cat immediately is to prevent periodontal diseases when she is older. Professional cleaning by your veterinarian may be necessary sometime in her life, but incorporating a dental care routine both into your daily routine and your cat can reduce the number of cleanings needed in the future.

[baurbiediv]

family

cw: none, just family being family

genre: fluff

-

“jack please get your daughter!”, you slightly yelled watching your now 1 year old, autumn run around the house in just her diaper.

you looked over to see jack coming down the stairs and with a confused look. to think timing couldn’t be any better, autumn squeals loudly seeing her father. you shake your head, “look i don’t know where you’ve been for the past hour, but your daughter needs her clothes on, and we have to leave in ten minutes!” you sighed.

jack looked over at his daughter, then back at you. “i got this, you go finished getting ready, okay?” he looked at you with a cheesy smile on his face, you let out a thankful sigh as you went up to him and kissed his cheek, “thank you baby.” you smiled at him as you went upstairs to finish getting ready.

autumn was sitting down on floor with a teething toy in her mouth watching as her father comes towards her, “now why are you giving your mama a hard time?” jack asked autumn as he picked her up, she squealed again as she started kicking her feet.

jack cheesed at his daughter while putting on her baby pink romper along with her baby pink new balances. he held her up in the air as he smiled at her meanwhile she reached for her father’s face. you came down in spaghetti strapped sundress dress along with some black strappy heels.

you smiled at the two as you walked over to the couch and sat next to them. jack looked over at you as he carefully set autumn down next to him, “so you must want me to put another baby inside you?” jack smirked at his own words. you glared at him, “uh, no jack, you need to stop before your other two children come down here and hear you.” you said as you reached over him to grab autumn as she made random noises.

sage and elijah came down arguing. “you literally have boogers in your nose elijah, get away from me!” sage almost screamed at him, “well .. you look like a booger!” elijah retaliated. jack at you as you covered autumn’s ears before jack looked over at them before he spoke up. “HEY!” he yelled, both sage and elijah stopped and slowly turned to look at their father, “now i don’t know what you two are arguing about, but you two need to cut it out. we are not about to go to this family get together while the both of you are arguing, understood?” jack spoke. “understood.” they both grumbled.

20 minutes later

you all walked into the house where everyone was for the get together, and immediately you guys were swarmed by family. “where’s my lil niecey poo at?!” neelam said as she came up to you and hugged you.

you smiled and hugged her back, “well, she’s sleeping because she decided to terrorize me earlier and not take a nap like she was supposed to!” you said while laughing, after speaking to neelam for a little while, you went to go mingle with the rest of your family and friends.

while jack went to go set the car seat down somewhere, he was getting so many ‘oos’ and ‘awws’ as people saw how cute autumn was. elijah and sage made their way to the backyard where the pool and the food was.

you found jack in a corner sitting down with autumn laying on his chest, you smiled while taking your phone out of your purse and took a picture of them. he made a ‘really’ face as you playfully rolled your eyes. he patted the spot next to him on the decently sized couch and you sat next to him as you took your purse off and placed it into autumn’s baby bag.

“she’s so pretty.” you said as you kissed autumn’s cheek, “all thanks to you mama, she wouldn’t be here without you carrying her. y/n you’re an amazing woman. i wouldn’t want to have kids with anyone else.” jack said as he kissed your forehead.

you tried your best to hide your sniffling. “are you crying?” he questioned, you patted his chest. “i am not, allergies, y’know get the best of me.” you said wiping your nose, which caused him to let out a quiet chuckle. “thank you jack, there wouldn’t have been anyone else i would want to be the father of my children. i love you so much.”

“i love you too mama. never forget that.”

[thatonecurlygirl]

The Sinclair Girl

Fandom: Stranger Things

Word count: ~1.1k

Pairing: Sinclair!Reader x Eddie/Steve ? Honestly idk??

Summary: Lucas’s cousin is back in town and meets all of his friends.

Note: It’s been a couple weeks and just wanted to post something. Ngl, not really a fan of this, but if you want to read more and have suggestions/requests on how I should continue lmk.

Everyone sits around the room impatiently waiting on Lucas to arrive with the pizzas he promised to pick up on the way over. Robin and Steve had the opportunity to rent Steve’s place from his parents and everyone agreed to get together to celebrate with pizza and a movie. It was agreed that everyone meet at the house at 4:30 and it was rapidly approaching 5:30 with no word from Lucas.

“If that kid isn’t already dead, he will be when I get my hands on him.” Eddie’s stomach growl along with him.

“There has to be a serious reason as to why he isn’t here yet.” Will proposes, “He wouldn’t just, not show up.”

“He did for Hellfire and the little Sinclair had to sub in for him.” Eddie slams the refrigerator door closed.

“Easy!” Steve scolds. “Look, Robin and I will go out and look for him.” Steve grabs the keys off the counter.

Just as Steve turns toward the door it flys open and a wide-eyed Lucas stands there. He frantically scans the room before turning on his heels and running back out the door with a “Sorry, wait a minute!”

“What the hell was that?” Dustin asks, confused.

“Chill out you turd! Let me apologize for making you late.”

“Who the hell is that?” Max stands up, eyebrows knit together, ready to march right out of the door.

“Seriously, Y/N. It’s not a big deal.” Lucas retorts from outside.

“It really is.” You round the corner, coming into view and making your way to the entryway. “I am so sorry, it’s my fault Lucas is late. I’m—”

“Y/N!” Dustin squeals as he and Will rush toward you and envelope you in a hug.

“Hey you little boogers aren’t so little anymore.” You smile and wave Mike over, pulling him into the hug also.

“What are you doing here?” Dustin asks.

“Ah, just babysitting Lucas and Erica while their parents are out of town for a few weeks.” You turn from the familiar teens and focus your attention on the unfamiliar faces. “Sorry about that, I’m Y/n, Lucas’s cousin. He had no idea I was coming into town and obviously made him super late. He’s getting the pizzas from the car now.”

“No problem, don’t worry about it.” Steve says with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

“Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you, Steve. Lucas says you’ve had his back in some sticky situations. I appreciate that.” You says with a genuine smile before turning to the girl standing at his side. “That must make you Robin! Erica said you’re a badass, which is a great compliment coming from her.”

“She really said that? I thought she hated me.” Robin says in shock.

“She’s a bit rough around the edges isn’t she?” You laugh.

“El, Mike’s girlfriend. Heard you’re pretty cool and a good friend.” You say to the girl with short cut hair before turning to the pretty red-haired girl, “Max, I’ve heard a great deal about you. That Lucas is head over heels for you, he can be a little stupid in the head sometimes though. Let me know if you need help with him.”

“Will do.” She beams.

“Unfortunately, I have not heard anything about you.” You say, turning to the wide eyed, obvious metal head in the corner.

“Eddie, I’m Eddie. Sinclair hasn’t mentioned me?” He asks incredulously, glaring as Lucas who carries in the multiple boxes of pizza and sets them on the coffee table.

“Wait, this is Eddie?” You ask with a gasp, turning to Lucas. “You’re DnD leader guy?”

“Dungeon Master.” Mike corrects you.

“Right, Master.” You glance back at Eddie and he melts when he hears that roll off your tongue. “You fail to mention that both of these guys are cute.” You whisper yell at Lucas.

“Seriously.” Lucas asks in annoyance.

“Right of course, you don’t find them attractive, but how to you expect them to be off limits if you don’t at least warn me.” You gently punch his arm.

“I’m not off limit.” Eddie shakes his head with a smirk.

“Yes you are.” Lucas glares at him.

“But I am totally in limits.” Steve raises one hand to a wave, the other resting on his hip.

“Nope.” Lucas shakes his head. “And my cousin is 100% off limits. No dating, no flirting, don’t even look in her direction.” He warns the eldest boys.

“No one said anything about dating Lucas,” you laugh, “I’m just saying they’re cute. Chill.”

“Yeah, chill.” Robin laughs, plopping down on the couch with a piece of pizza.

“Hey, I am not the greatest with the whole friend thing, but I would really like to have someone to hang out with while I am here. If you’re up for it just let me know.” You head toward the door to let yourself out.

“You should stay.” Max pipes up from the spot on the floor beside Lucas.

“Ah, I can’t. I don’t want to intrude on your get together, plus I need to reacquaint myself with the town.”

“We can help you reacquaint yourself later. Seriously, you can hang out with us!” Steve insists.

“We’d love to have you.” Eddie nods.

“We need another girl to break up some of this testosterone.” Robin groans dramatically.

“Fine.” You smile. “What are we watching?” You grab a slice of pizza and take a seat next to Robin.

“Who cares?” Steve exclaims, “You’re more interesting anyway. How come Lucas never mentioned he had a cute older cousin.”

“Hmm, not sure. Why is that Lucas?

“Because you’re my cousin and not a piece of meat for them to drool over.” Lucas says with his mouth full of pizza.

“Good point,” Robin nods, “So do you plan on staying here after his parents get back?”

“Maybe. I graduated last year and spent the year traveling and planned on finding somewhere to call home, get a job and settle in. Who knows where that’ll be, ya know.” You shrug.

“If you decide to stay in Hawkins we can get you a job at Family Video with us!” Robin exclaims excitedly.

“My friend works at a diner just outside of town and they’re looking for a waitress.” Eddie suggests.

“You have friends?” Steve gasps

“Well what the hell are you guys, Harrington?” Eddie replies in annoyance.

“I mean outside of us.” Steve pulls quiet giggles out of the younger kids who watch the interaction.

“Yes, Harrington, I do. You aren’t the sun and moon after all, big boy.”

“Are they always like this?” You ask, holding back your laughter.

“Yep!” Max nods.

“I think I’m going to like you guys.”

[hanji-is-life]

literally been on my mind all day but I’ve just been thinking about Best Friend Bakugou!

It’s just. So many tales I could recount about being best friends with the gremlin. I don’t even know where to start.

this got really long omg

He really didn’t think he’d get along with you as well as he does now. When you guys first met, you definitely piqued his interests because of your no-shit attitude when it came to him and him only. You weren’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit or put him in his place or get into screaming matches with him. Before you knew it, y’all were the true Pretty Best Friends™️

On days where you don’t feel like doing your own hair, if you complain enough, he’s doing it for you. He’ll sit you between his legs, grab whatever product he needs, and baby boy goes to WORK. If you have braids you need to take out, you somehow trust him enough with the scissors. Protective style, he’s looking up how and can perfect that shit in under three hours. If you have locs, he’s retwisting your roots. Your edges are laid to the gods. This boys hands are blessed.

Someone said it before, but he’s definitely the type to have cursed pictures of you. If you fall asleep on FaceTime with your bonnet halfway off of your head, glasses skewed, mouth dropped open with drool, anything. He’s got a picture of it. Makes it his Home Screen to be an ass and refuses to change it. He smiles to himself every time he sees it though, cause you look so adorable and gross.

He always has to touch you. Like, always. Head on your shoulder, laying on your lap, feet on your arms (why? who the hell knows). His favorite position is when you’re laying on the floor of your living room playing with your switch on your stomach. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to nuzzle his head in between your cheeks.

Flicks his boogers on you and gets mad when you get mad. Also throws his dirty socks in your face and, again, gets mad when you get mad.

Definitely likes to match and color coordinate with you. You guys always show up to functions with something matching—from your shoes to his hoodies, your shirt to his socks, your earrings to his necklace. Most of the time it’s his idea, by harsh suggestions. “You’re gonna wear that? No, that looks fucking dumb. Wear this instead.” This always matches whatever he has on, not so coincidentally.

Always does petty, childish shit to annoy you. Will most definitely give you wet willies when you’re trying to watch a tv show. Will also pin you and force you to smell his pits every time you tell him to shut up. Will also definitely wipe his sweat from his face onto yours when you say he stinks. “Now we both stink, dumbass.”

Calls your ass flat when it looks really good, just to fuck with you. Also slaps your boob because the jiggle is funny to him.

Will do Tik Toks with you, but complains the whole time. You have to promise him a shitload of things to do his makeup and record it. You promise him it won’t go viral since you don’t get that many views anyway. It goes viral. You have to hide in your closet to keep him from throttling you because now his whole agency keeps complimenting him on how red lipsticks and thick lashes look good on him.

Don’t even think about trying to get a boyfriend. You kinda don’t want anyone since you have the tiniest humongous crush on your best friend. But don’t worry! Bakugou is cock blocking anyway :)

Thursday nights are Best Friend Nights. You two order something or he cooks, rent a movie, play games and spend the night over each other’s houses. It usually results in long conversations and talks and almost-confessions before you guys always lose your nerve.

You definitely have matching bonnets and scarves, but he refuses to wear the orange silk durag you got him :(

Everyone thinks you two are in a relationship and have plenty of evidence that backs them up. Like that one time the BakuSquad surprised him at his house, and caught the two of you coming out of the shower together. Why? Because best friends wash each other’s backs! Or the other time you two had a spa day, and he was painting your nails and giving you a massage and you were both naked because best friends are that comfortable together! Or the fact that he’s the only one who he shares his food with and doesn’t mind eating after you, even if it’s directly from your fork. Or that you give him good luck kisses on his cheek and jaw whenever he’s about to do reckless shit.

More bestie things include mutual masturbation or teaching the other how the other’s body’s work! When a sex scene comes on and it’s just too hot to ignore, you’ll lend a helping hand to the boner that he tries his best to hide. Or when you’re PMSing and he eats you out for hours and stuffs you with fingers until you’re crying about it being too much. Or him teaching you the best method of deep throating through many trial and errors. Or you teaching him the best way to hit it from the back.

Best friend Bakugou who will absolutely fuck you into the mattress whenever you’re about to go on a date. He’s fucking you stupid and crying on his cock, makes you call your date and tell him you have to cancel through hiccuping moans and cries. So after he makes you cum too many times to count, he’s picking up your limp body and carrying you to the couch for some bestie bonding/aftercare time because all you need is your best friend, not some fucking loser who’s only gonna break your heart in the end...(he’d never break your heart, but is too chicken shit to say it out loud)

Telling him that you’ll suck his dick if he does outlandish shit for you. You’re so surprised when he actually does it, that you’re automatically tying your braids back or slapping a scarf on because he deserves it at this point. He’s definitely a simp for his bff.

Loves when you get dressed in front of him, so he can comment on the new panties and bra set you got. You might have worn it on purpose knowing you had to change when you got to his house.

Buys you things best friends don’t usually buy each other for their birthdays like, flowers that mean “confession” and “love” and “adoration” and chocolate covered strawberries that spell out “be my gf” and a new lingerie set, but y’all are just extra close like that.

Just bestie things :)

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.” 

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be. 

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go. 

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays. 

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home. 

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing. 

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids. 

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve. 

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea. 

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy. 

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry. 

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.” 

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead. 

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone. 

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go. 

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too. 

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again. 

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door. 

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse. 

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub. 

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577. 

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows. 

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see. 

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him. 

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else. 

“Just a pint,” I tell him. 

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her. 

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop. 

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl. 

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where. 

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head. 

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do. 

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight. 

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1. 

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born. 

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.” 

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly. 

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight. 

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns. 

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly. 

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.  

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention. 

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis. 

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again. 

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle. 

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did… 

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing. 

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle. 

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics. 

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk. 

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap. 

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it. 

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time. 

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either. 

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window. 

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me. 

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly. 

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it. 

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me. 

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room. 

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly. 

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up. 

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal. 

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me. 

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life. 

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What? 

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say. 

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.” 

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.” 

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it. 

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me. 

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now. 

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife. 

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk. 

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle. 

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh. 

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. 

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer. 

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter. 

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.” 

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head. 

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly. 

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?” 

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm. 

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.” 

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards. 

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses. 

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her. 

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead. 

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door. 

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week. 

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating. 

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside. 

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed. 

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously. 

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.” 

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll. 

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me. 

-

Read part II here!