#ALSO sorry to anyone waiting a while for me to answer messages. my phone is not functioning well and I am awaiting a replacement 😭

[spaceratprodigy]

if things go as planned this week then I think next week I'm gonna let the new commission post out of my drafts! This month for sure!

[inkedbybarnes]

blind date

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: convinced that bucky will never like you back, you agree to a blind date arranged for you to forget about him.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: fluff. two idiots pining over each other (i know, i know. i love the trope). blind dates (they honestly scare me). boundaries being crossed. not so gentleman of a blind date. protective & grumpy bucky (yes, that's a warning!). pet names such as doll. lowercase writing. not proofread.

notes: happy 500 followers to us! hehe. sorry it took long, i waited until i reached that milestone and we finally did! we're growing in our small delulu home, and i love it. <3 i hope you enjoy this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“come on! tell me more about this mystery guy.”

natasha plopped down the couch beside you while she held a pint of ice cream in her hand and a spoonful on its way to her mouth. you were talking about the blind date that sam arranged for you, and she hasn't stopped asking questions since you mentioned it.

“there's really nothing to tell besides that he's a guy looking for a date and that he's friends with sam. i'm actually surprised that sam set this all up, but i trust him, you know? maybe it'll be nice,” you answered, ignoring the fact that sam suggested this to help you get over your not-so-little crush on a super soldier.

your phone beeped, showing a message sent to you by your teammate. “speaking of the devil, sam just sent me the details but i'm really not sure if i should go. it doesn't feel right.”

“and leave the poor guy waiting? not happening." natasha stuck her spoon into her pint and set it down on the coffee table. “you feel that way because you like someone already, but nothing's going to happen if we'll sit here waiting. you're either giving this date a chance or ask bucky out. it's time you finally go out there and see someone. aren't you sick of us yet?"

“i'm quite sick of you, that's for sure.” you joked, having natasha as your room neighbour and basically your best friend. if you weren't spending your time sleeping in your room, you'd be spending it with her. “i just don't think i should be going on dates when i know i'm technically not emotionally available for others yet.”

“oh, you can't be sick of me. i'm great company." natasha replied confidently. “then why did you agree? we all know, besides barnes, that you've liked him for so long. plus, he's never been with anyone for ages. the two of you makes sense.”

you gnawed on your lower lip, hesitant to tell nat the reason why you agreed to this stupid date, but she was your best friend and also one hell of a spy to even try and hide it. “he told me that he found someone similar to bucky and that i might want to meet him. we agreed to let it be a blind date to avoid the mess of telling them that they're meeting an avenger.”

“i knew it. you're going on a rebound date!” she jumped on her seat, as if she'd solved the winning numbers to the lottery. “there was no way you'd suddenly go on a blind date without a catch. you're too hung up on bucky!”

“keep it down!” you pulled her back into the couch, nervously looking around the room to see if anyone was close by. “i'm pretty sure rebounds only apply to people i've dated. bucky's hardly a candidate for that list.”

“you've liked him for way too long that it basically feels like you had a relationship, and i'm pretty sure he likes you too,” natasha said. “trust me, my guts? golden.”

you winced at the thought. there had been zero signs that bucky liked you back. as much as you trusted natasha and her instincts, this was something you couldn't just assume.

“i don't think so, nat. i've given him enough hints. it's either he's too dense about it or he's just not interested. maybe it's just how it's supposed to be, and i can't keep myself stuck with maybes forever.” you sighed, deciding to finally go to the blind date. “help me pick an outfit?”

“like you even have to ask?” she smiled, dragging you to your room while you were still left with uncertainty in your heart.

the restaurant was one of those hole-in-the-wall places in downtown new york. it had a lot people dining inside, their noise easily heard from the outside, yet the ambiance already felt warm and welcoming. you wondered if sam suggested the place or the guy you were about to meet.

you sighed, giving your chest one last tap since it wouldn't stop beating so fast. it was a wonder how your heartbeat remained stable during a risky mission, while a harmless date had you this nervous. although with that, you felt human.

“okay, let's see where this goes,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your watch that had a tracking device in it, as requested (or ordered) by your best friend.

natasha initially opted to come with you and seat somewhere far, but you told her that you didn't need it. so, she settled with a tracking device, as if you weren't an avenger who could defend yourself. you couldn't find it in you to complain, since this was natasha's own way of showing that she cared.

you entered the restaurant, eyes wandering around the room despite not knowing exactly what to look for. the only details you were allowed to know was that “joseph” knew where to take you, so you assumed that person was one of the staff that you had to look for.

once you found a waitress that didn't look too occupied, you approached her with a smile. “excuse me, may i know where joseph is?”

the lady looked up at you, recognition evident on her face. you were slightly worried that she knew your identity, but she gave you a warm smile and held your arm gently. “oh, he's right there by the counter. let me take you to him!”

she escorted you towards the man handling the counter that seemed to be where the orders were taken. he was shouting various orders behind him while arranging the food on the counter. by the looks of it, he could be the manager or the owner of the place.

“she's here!” the lady beside you exclaimed, catching the full attention of joseph.

“ah, there's our special guest for tonight!” joseph walked around the counter to hug you, as if you knew each other for a long time. “come, come! we have the best spot reserved for you. it's right outside where you can enjoy the view while also having some privacy, eh? your date already arrived, but no worries. he wasn't waiting for too long.”

you were rendered speechless as he took you to the patio, not expecting your date to arrive first, and most importantly not expecting to see him right away. you thought you were early enough, but it seems that your date was an earlier bird than you were.

once outside, all you could see was an empty patio with one man sitting not so far from where you were standing. you hated how you could only see his back and not his face, since he was facing the opposite direction. although, you immediately noticed how he was dressed similarly to bucky.

similar haircut, black boots, and a black jacket. while you weren't sure if they actually looked alike, sam wasn't kidding about them having some similarities.

“how come it's empty out here?” you asked with genuine curiosity. the restaurant was oozing with customers tonight, and they could surely use the extra space outdoors.

“well, uh...” joseph scratched his head, smiling awkwardly as he looked for an answer. “oh, well, stop worrying about that! you're here to go on a date and nothing more! let us worry about that ourselves, hm? come, let's not make your date wait for too long.”

you both walked towards the only table occupied, taking a deep breath before joseph announced, “your date has arrived!”

the man turned around, eyes widened at the sudden noise, but he eventually smiled once he looked at you.

“hey, nice to finally meet you.” he stood up, extending his hand. “i'm martin.”

one look at him and you knew that your heart stubbornly stayed with someone you shouldn't be thinking about.

“i still can't believe that i'm on a date with an avenger.”

you were barely done with your meal despite being here for more than an hour, and martin hasn't been able to stop gushing about your whole avenger sideline. while you understood his excitement, this wasn't the type of date that you hoped for.

“you think i could tell my friends?” he asked, suddenly nudging his chair closer to you that he was basically sitting beside you. “they probably won't believe me, so will it be okay if we took a picture?”

oh, so that's why he moved closer.

“sure.” you forced a smile. “but don't get too close, maybe? i'm.. i'm not that comfortable yet.”

as if you said nothing, he placed an arm over your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him. you've been through worse situations than this, but you were highly uncomfortable having your boundaries crossed.

bucky wouldn't do something like this. how did sam think that any of his behaviour was similar to him?

martin already had his phone out, capturing pictures and squeezing your arm, when you decided that this isn't what you wanted, but before you could open your mouth, you felt someone pulling his arm off of you, causing martin to scream.

“what is wrong with you!?” martin shouted, standing up and stepping away while he held his aching arm. when you turned around, you felt your heart stop to find the person you least expected to be here, but wanted the most to be with.

“bucky?”

he did not look at you, his eyes still fixated on martin, nostrils flaring as he took a step closer, standing in front of you as if he was shielding you, while martin took the same amount of steps backwards. “she clearly said no. what the fuck was so hard about understanding that?”

“look, man, i don't know what you're doing here, but i think this is between me and her,” he said, his eyes showing fear as he watched the ex-assassin approach him, hearing the gears of his metal arm whirring.

“give me your phone.” bucky ordered. “now.”

martin immediately fished for his phone, nearly dropping it, and gave it to bucky. “w-what are you going to do?”

“no, this is what you're gonna do,” bucky started, crashing martin's phone with ease and carelessly throwing it to the side. “this date never happened, your friends will hear nothing about tonight, and you will get out of here before i finish counting to three. one...”

in a snap, martin was already out of your sight. if you hadn't known martin before this, you would think he idolised pietro with the way he ran so fast.

“are you okay?”

forgetting about bucky for a split second, his voice jolted you out of your thoughts. you looked up, your heart racing, to find him right in front you.

“what are you doing here?”

“that doesn't really answer my question, doll. answer mine first, will ya? then i'll answer yours.”

“i'm okay, but i can take care of myself. you didn't have to scare the guy.” you sighed, trying your best to look displeased when in fact this has been the happiest you've been tonight. “so? why are you here?”

“well, it's really hard to explain...”

“you better try, barnes, because i am very confused right now,” you said. “one moment i'm on a date with someone, then suddenly my teammate, who i told nothing about said date, appears and crushes the phone of the guy i'm with?”

“natasha told me about it.”

you frowned, not surprised with natasha's gossipy nature, but confused about what she could've said that made him go all the way here.

“i was looking for you since you're always with us during dinner, and nat told me that you were on a date. i couldn't help but ask where and with whom, but she said that she had no idea, that it was a blind date. she was more than glad to tell me where you were, so i came here looking for you.”

“why?” you asked, confused and suddenly hopeful at the same time. although, you tried to keep your hopes down, not wanting to set yourself up for a heartbreak.

“what do you mean why? that's it. i was just worried, and now you're okay. can we go home?”

he turned his back on you and walked away, you were quick enough follow him, still unsatisfied with his answer.

once you've reached a dark alley where he had his motorcycle parked, you sighed and decided to ask one more time.

“what are you actually doing here, barnes?” you asked. “i want an actual answer or i'm walking home.”

“it doesn't matter,” bucky answered shortly, frustration. written on his face. “why did you agree to this anyway? doesn't feel like something you'd do.”

“you have no idea about what i feel and what i want to do,” you answered. “and you still haven't answered my question.”

“i don't know, okay? i don't know. i just..” he sighed. “i heard the word date and everything didn't make sense. all i knew was that i wanted to follow you here and stop whatever you were doing. i didn't like it.”

“what gives you the right to stop me from going on a date?” you asked, your head jerked back in disbelief. “and why would it even bother you? this is the first time someone went on a date in the team. so what makes mine so different?”

“what do you think?” he asked, his gaze challenging and curious, waiting for your response.

you stood in silence, his question causing a sudden drift in the conversation. you could feel the tension in the air.

“sam made me go to a blind date as well,” he spoke again. “i just remembered that he was asking me where i'd take someone on a date. days after that, he said he found a girl that i might like, and that i should go on a date with her, he suggested that it should be a blind date, knowing that i'm an avenger and all.”

“why didn't you go?”

“i couldn't. i wasn't interested. i knew it wouldn't work.”

“why?”

“because i already like someone.”

your heart sank, a lump forming in your throat as the reality set in that the person you've been pining for was already interested in someone else.

so much for going on a date to forget about him.

“what about you?” he asked. “why did you go?”

because of you, you idiot.

“trying to get over someone,” you simply answered.

“you were seeing someone?” he asked, completely clueless, but suddenly looking uneasy. “i never knew you were in a relationship. i guess, we're not that close, but i thought i'd at least know abou—”

“what? no!” you replied, voice rising as you spoke. "god, i agreed to this date because i wanted to get over you!"

the words slipped out of your mouth, your eyes widening in surprise as you accidentally reveal the feelings you had kept hidden.

bucky blinked, silence hanging in the air. the confession felt heavy between you as you waited for his response.

“i didn't agree to going on a blind date because i have feelings you,” bucky finally spoke, taking a deep breath before continuing, “because i knew i wouldn't enjoy it knowing i'd be thinking of you anyway, because as convinced as i was that you had no interest in me, i'd rather keep my eyes on you than on anybody else.”

“wait, wait, what? you like me?” you repeated in a slightly disbelieving tone, searching his face for confirmation.

“why would i follow you all the way here if i didn't?”

“because you care? and it might be dangerous to go on a date with someone i've never met?” you guessed. “i mean, i think you'd also do it for everybody else, as grumpy as you look like on the outside, you can be a softie sometimes.”

“if i had no feelings for you, i wouldn't be here. you're an avenger for christ's sake. some random guy would be like a training dummy for you,” he answered. “and no, i wouldn't be doing this for anybody else. if the situation's that dangerous, maybe, but a date? you're all adults. you know what you're doing.”

you couldn't help but giggle at his answer, which earned you a glare from him. “what?”

“nothing.” you shook your head. “you sound like an old man lecturing the younger generation.”

“are we completely ignoring the fact that we like each other?”

“that's the only thing on my mind right now.” you admitted. “are you sure about what you just said? it could be the hunger talking.”

instead of answering, bucky took his phone out of his pocket, swiping and tapping on it a few times before taking your hand and placing it on your palm.

“what am i supposed to—”

“just read it.”

choosing not to argue with him, you grabbed the phone with a frown. his messages with natasha were on the screen, starting from their messages from nearly four months ago. you scrolled through their messages, and while they lasted for months, they were all short and straightforward.

three months ago

bucky:

did you arrive safely?

romanoff:

since when did you start asking?

bucky:

?

romanoff:

yes, we arrived safely.

bucky:

👍🏻

romanoff:

really???

two months ago

bucky:

is she okay?

romanoff:

ohhh, that's why you keep texting.

bucky:

answer

romanoff:

geez, barnes.

yeah, she's okay.

bucky:

ok

one month ago

bucky:

she's sick?

romanoff:

yeah, wanna visit her?

you're basically immune.

bucky:

i have a mission

romanoff:

oh yeah

oops

bucky:

are you busy?

romanoff:

nope

why?

bucky:

take my place

romanoff:

no thanks, barnes.

bucky:

i'll take your next task

and the next one as well

romanoff:

why can't you just take this one?

bucky:

nothing

romanoff:

a reason or i'm not doing it.

bucky:

she's sick

i want to stay

romanoff:

oh my god

you're such a sap

fine i'll talk to steve

bucky:

ty

romanoff:

you're using abbreviations now???

bucky:

👍🏻

one week ago

romanoff:

movie night later, don't ditch us again

bucky:

busy

romanoff:

she planned this one

she's worried you won't come

bucky:

i'll bring snacks

romanoff:

i love knowing your weakness

bring popcorn!

bucky:

she prefers pizza over popcorn

does she like popcorn?

romanoff:

nope, but some of us do.

bucky:

ok

romanoff:

so you're bringing popcorn?

bucky:

no

once you were done reading, you returned his phone back to his hand. “you do like me,” you said, the confession finally sinking in.

bucky nodded. “and you like me too.”

“where does that leave us?” you asked, hoping. “are we.. dating now?”

“no,” he answered quickly.

you felt that ache returning in your chest, but before you could say something, bucky already sensed your worries and he wasn't letting you slip away that easily.

“no because i want to do this right. i want to take you out on a date first, bring you flowers, play music and ask you for a dance, all that stuff that you deserve,” he explained, bringing his warm hand to your cheek. “but trust me that it won't take long before i call you mine. i don't think i have the patience for it at this point.”

“you promise?” you rose to your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around him. “i don't want to wait that long either.”

“you won't,” he replied, leaning into you, his lips brushing against your nose before pulling you in a kiss. “i promise.”

this was supposed to have a lil bonus when they got back to the tower, revealing the team's true involvement with the blind date, buttt i might just do it some other time as a snippet/part 2 instead. i still have a few to write anyway, woops.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[emmyrosee]

*hoping this is the inbox lol

I’d like to request something for Bakugo, if you haven’t done something similar already!

the scenario could be something like, the reader is on her way home at nighttime to their + Bakugo’s shared apartment and she starts to feel like someone (or a villain) is following her, so she starts trying to subtly contact him (before the villain knows she’s onto them) and eventually needs to start calling/running because the follower/villain is directly starting to attack.

Bakugo could probably be waiting for the reader to get back home and wondering why they’re taking so long, or also on his way back from work as he gets the messages. Reader may/may not get hurt or taken, lol.

but yeah overall, I am in my feels for dramatic and protective Bakugo 🤧 sorry if it sounds too specific, I’m not holding ya to that at all, just sharing the overall idea and would love to see your take!

I hope you have a great day/evening!!

tw // insinuated attacks with NO intense details, angst, dangerous situations, no comfort.

———-

SENT please, for the love of all that is holy, answer me

katsuki im so scared rn Please

im sorry about earlier

But now is not the time to be petty

Katsuki please

Please

whatever happens I love you

I love you so much

you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

You’d gotten into a fight this morning.

It was over something minuscule, about throwing away the empty cartons of milk, but apparently it was more than enough to upset Katsuki to the point of silencing your notifications. It had been building up for weeks, little jabs here and there until of course, this morning.

But now’s not a good time for him to not take the high road.

Not when there’s someone only twenty paces behind you, walking step for step with you. Fear grips your heart as you try to muster the courage to face them, so you keep your head down and spam Katsuki with as many messages as your fingers can.

Every once in a while, they clear their throat, just to remind you that they’re there, they’re right behind you and dare you to say or do anything to make them pounce. You don't want to risk it, not when there's no one around to help you. No witnesses, no cameras you know of, nothing to keep you any semblance of safe, only you and your mental gymnastics of debating on confronting the culprit head on, or continue this predator and prey game. You could duck in this little alcove, the alleyway adjacent to you, in an attempt to get away.

You clear your throat. You spin on your heel.

“Is there a problem?”

You choose to face the situation, heart beating faster than an engine, and hands clenched into fists. You wait for your phone to do something, vibrate, chime, ring, anything. But nothing happens.

Katsuki isn’t coming.

The terror looks at you and shrugs, “no, no problem. Why?”

“Because you are directly behind me, breathing down my neck.”

“I was trying to go around you,” they say simply.

You furrow your brows and clench your fists, “then fucking walk around me. Go.” You step to the side and extend your arm out, gesturing them to keep walking. “Go. Go around.”

They click their tongue and shake their head, taking strides to get past you, with their hands jammed into their pockets. You watch with frightened eyes as they approach, ready to fight back when need be.

They pause right in front of you. Your heart leaps in your chest.

“Ain’t anyone ever taught you beware of alleys?”

The world slows down as you watch a massive hand dart up to your face, grabbing your maw and forcing you in the alley, keeping you from screaming. They jam you deeper inside, and your vision blurs with tears of fear as the streetlights grow smaller the farther they move you into the alley.

Your phone clatters to the ground as your adrenaline kicks up, and bile rises in your throat.

This is it, isn’t it?

bk 🩵 the fuck?

What’re you on about?

Why’re you scared?

Im with deku, my phone was off

What the fuck

No, you’re going to answer me

Right now.

You think I’m playing?

Where are you

Babe, please

You’re scaring me

I love you. I’m sorry I yelled

But you need to answer me

You’re okay you’re fine we’re fine

We’re on our way I got your location

Stay put. Don’t you fucking move

[yummyrevivalfluid]

Me Gustas Tu/ I Like You

A/n: This could be seen as a part 2 to And If You Think I’m in Love With You, but this can also be seen as a stand-alone fic. I was just writing, so I didn't really revise it. Sorry if anything doesn't make sense.

Song Inspo: Me Gustas Tu by Manu Chao

Word Count: 1347

.

.

.

What time is it, my heart?

It wouldn’t matter if he spent the entire day with you- moments with you felt fleeting. He doesn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times he’d lose track of time with you. Even now, sitting outside with you, he’d only realize the day had gone by when the moon decided to watch over the two of you.

“You know, if I were with anyone else, my parents would be calling my phone like crazy.” You're leaning back on your forearms, watching the stars, your phone lying beside you. Senku glances at your phone- it was true. There were no missed messages or calls, but the time stares back at him. It was taunting him- he knows his time with you is running out.

12:00 am

“But they trust you.”

“Do you?”  He likes the fact that your parents trust him - it was praise and approval he didn’t know he needed, it made his heartbeat faster. But what mattered to him the most was that you trusted him.

“Is Doreamon a super-sized gizmo-ized, gadget cat from the future?” you answer his question with a question of your own. A question that he knows the answer to is yes.

“You’re such a geek.” He jokes with you, letting small laughter escape from his lips. He lies beside you, his mind noting the small space between the two of you. It wasn’t abnormal - he’s laid beside you countless times, even held you, but it’s something his body can’t get accustomed to.

“Well, you’re the biggest nerd I know.” You joke back. You shift yourself so you're leaning on your side, and instead of the stars, you decide to watch him.

There’s a pause of silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence that Senku would typically try to fill with science facts. It was a silence that was only ever comforting with you. It’s those rare moments when he can feel his mind slow and rest from constant thinking. He allows himself to get lost in the stars with you, taking in the sounds of crickets and the occasional noises from the bustling city.

“Senku, what do you like?”

It’s an innocent question at first glance, but his mind can’t help but overthink. What is the answer that you’re wanting? The one you’ve been waiting for.

Is it the same answer that is clouding his mind? Or is it the answer that is always ready? Is the answer you're wanting the one that leaves his lips without hesitation?  

“I like Science,” he says it with ease. He turns his body to look back at you, his eyes roam your face, attentive for your reaction- he needs all the data to give you the answer you’re wanting.

I like you

“I like numbers,” he blurts. He meant to say mathematics, but the way you’re looking at him—the way your eyes soften at him—makes him feel your yearning, causes his vast vocabulary to diminish to the basics.

I like you

“I like Doraemon.” You smile at that, and he notices the way you try to hold your laughter.

I like you

“I like mecha,”

-

He doesn’t understand why, but his mind is repeating the phrase he’s been afraid to say—something that took him a while to recognize. You’ve been plaguing his thoughts, like a parasite. It’s as if you were trying to feed off his mind- his thoughts began to consist of you whenever you’re not around, more now than ever since the day you brought up the rumor you overheard.

Once he became aware of the sensations he felt when he was around you, he began to document them as symptoms. 

At first, it was when he noticed he stumbled, stuttered, and fumbled with his words with you. Eventually, it was when he noted how his body reacted to you. His palms were clammy, with sweat sticking to them despite his repeated attempts to rub it off on his pants, accompanied by a sudden feeling of hot flashes. Then it was the alerts on his watch, alerting him that his heart rate was high, reaching levels abnormal for him.

Breathing around you was strange. It felt like, at times, his breathing would get caught, like he choked on air. At other times, it felt like he forgot to breathe altogether. Add in the abnormal heart rate, clammy hands, and the rising body heat- he felt like he was going to die.

“I think it’s cardiogenic shock, maybe even a heart attack.” Senku’s mentally cursing his addiction to caffeinated drinks.

He tells Byakuya over the phone about his symptoms, and all he gets over the phone is Byakuya's loud laughter. It feels like minutes waiting for him to calm down, and when he does, he wishes he didn’t. He got an answer, but it wasn’t the one he wanted to hear.

“Senku, it sounds to me like you’re in love.”

What am I going to do?

 I don’t know

-

“I know all of that already. What else?” You’re giggling at him, and he doesn’t know why. He wishes he could read your mind. Maybe then he would be able to say what he’s been trying to bury in the back of his mind.  

I like you

“I like space,” another obvious answer, one you already know.

I like you

“I like the night.” his hand is reaching for yours, and you follow. You allow him to intertwine your fingers with his. “Especially when I’m with you.”

I like you

“I like the moon,” his eyes don’t stray from yours as he lifts himself, inching closer to you. “I like it when moonlight falls on you.”

I like you

“I like the stars.” He pushes you onto your back and hovers over you, waiting for any signs that this isn’t the answer you’ve been seeking. He doesn’t see any. All he sees are his symptoms, the ones he’s been documenting- he sees them in you. “I can see them in your eyes.”

It’s cheesy, a tad cliché, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about now is answering you. He’s leaning down, getting closer to you. He can hear you, your breathing is hitching, the same way you’ve done to him unknowingly, and with ease. He can feel your body heat radiating to him - he can see the heat flush to your face, and he wonders if your heart is pounding out of your chest.

He presses his ear against your chest, listening to the rhythm of your heart. He wasn’t a doctor, but he could hear it speed up, reaching the same rate you had caused countless times to him.

“I like the sound of your heart.”

When he first documented his trouble breathing around you, he thought he was allergic to something you were wearing. But now, when he’s pressed against you, his nose burrowed into your neck, smelling your skin and hair, he knows he’s not.

“I like how you smell.”

His eyes flicker between yours and your lips —his silent way of asking. It’s as if you both share the same wavelength, knowing what he’s asking, seeking permission before he acts. You bite your lips as you nod your head. He can feel your fingers cup the back of his head, pulling him closer to you until he can feel your lips press against him. He’s moving his lips against yours, copying the movement he’s seen in movies. He doesn’t try to take the lead- he follows your movements. Slow and unsure. Innocent and filled with years of yearning.

“I like the way you taste.”

What time is it, my heart?

4 am

Moments with you felt fleeting. He’s never going to be able to keep track of time when he’s with you. There aren’t enough hours in the day- he needs more. Even an eternity with you wouldn’t be enough for him. Especially now that he’s honest with himself, honest with you.

“I like you.”

[betterinvienna]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ

caleb x gen!reader

masterlist ao3 requests

synopsis:

Caleb is sick. So very sick. He loves you so much.

The gunshot, this time, still doesn’t wake the neighbors.

He loves you too much.

How could anyone deserve you? Will you stay? Please?

Say yes.

[ 3.8k words — dark(?) romance — warnings: murder, drugging, kidnapping ]

author's note:

it's my first time writing something like this, but i love caleb so i'm trying my hand at it and hoping that i get better at it. oh. and im a lore skipper so please forgive me if anything is ooc here. please listen to angel by massive attack while reading. thank you for reading!!! i hope u like

It’s Tuesday, and it’s your only day off.

Four years in an esteemed university, a marketing degree, and top-notch grades, and you’re working at the same firm as your high school ex-friends. You’d berate yourself for the pathetic nature in which you’ve ended up, but you’re much too tired often days to think much past what you’re having for dinner. Spoiler: it’s pizza, again.

On your days—sorry, day—off, you enjoy hanging out with friends or simply staying home. Something as simple as a spaghetti dinner with an extremely corny Netflix Original is enough to satisfy you. This Tuesday, your friend Caleb has offered to take you out to the pier down south. You declined, though, because you’re going on a date with your boyfriend today. Caleb isn’t trapped in the same whirlpool you are—after high school, he went to pilot school and now flies commercial airplanes for a living. You bite your lip in envy, wishing you had taken the same path. Alas, you didn’t, and your company laptop bings with an email. You decide not to check it, instead opting to lazily dip your hand into a party-sized bag of Doritos.

You met Caleb one day in the library, studying for your seemingly useless marketing degree. You spoke, exchanged your then high opinions on your paths of study and interests, and waved each other goodbye. From then on, he found you each time you were at that library, offering to study with you but instead, each time inevitably going into an unrelated conversation. This continued until you exchanged numbers and graduated—you figured you wouldn’t see Caleb after that, but he persisted in maintaining your friendship. 

In a way, you’re thankful for him. You’re thankful, even though you don’t tell him, that he’s stuck around so long.

You pop your fingers into your mouth to clean the Dorito dust off of them as your boyfriend, Nate, texts you. Nate is a good guy, sure. But your relationship feels more like a friendship nowadays. You love him; you really do, and you’ve tried to mend the bond. Over-the-top Valentine’s day gifts, excessive PDA, constant love declarations—needless to say, the deterioration of this relationship simply cannot be accredited to your laziness, but rather, his. You know this, yes, but you also hope the date today will fix everything. Will make him love you again. You reluctantly check your phone, fearing an apology rather than an “are you ready?” message. Instead, it’s a simple two word message: “call me.”

So you do.

Nate picks up after two dials. “Hello?”

“Nate?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He says, as if he forgets his own name. “Look…”

You sigh. “No,” you deny hearing whatever he’s going to say, “I already made the reservations.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he says the baby hesitantly, as if it's a curse word, “something came up. I just can’t make it.”

You shake your head and rub your temple from beyond the screen. “It’s fine.” You mumble and respond in a tone much softer than the last. “Call me when you’re free, okay?”

Nate does not respond. He hums an illegitimate answer and hangs up, leaving you to your own devices and sticky Dorito fingers.

As if it was second nature, you take those Dorito fingers and use them to dial Caleb instead, not wanting your reservation to be completely wasted. Like he was waiting for your call on the other end of the phone, he picks up immediately.

“Hey, pip-squeak,” he chirps, “what’s up?”

You mournfully groan. “Are you busy today?”

Caleb takes a pregnant pause, as if he’s doing something right now. Something clanks in the background, confirming your suspicions. “No.” 

“You’re lying.”

“Not. Whaddya wanna do?”

Selfishly, you offer the schedule anyway. “My boyfriend cancelled on me.” On the other end of the line, Caleb makes a sympathetic noise. You continue. “Had a reservation at that restaurant down at the pier today. Are you coming?” 

“Abso—yeah, I am. When?”

You sigh, preparing to be met with further pities. “Three hours. I know it’s short notice, I don’t expe—”

“I’ll pick you up?”

You scoff. “Yeah. Thank you, Caleb, really.”

“Anytime, pip-squeak.”

—

Beggars can’t be choosers is the mantra you repeat when Caleb picks you up on his motorcycle again. The helmet forces your hair into an ugly shape, the speed of the bike shifts your insides, and the perilous nature of it all is an extreme deterrent. 

Unfortunately, Caleb just ruffles your hair as you pout at your mode of transportation. 

“It’ll be just 5 minutes,” Caleb assures you, “hop on.” He pushes a helmet onto you and flips the glass part of it down, giving you a stomach-churning smirk as he does the same for himself and pats the area behind him. You reluctantly get on, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revs the motorcycle. 

“Hang on, pip-squeak!”

You yell over the engine. “I’ll try!”

He punctuates your words by letting his foot off of the brake, finally sending you two down the street. “You okay?”

You rest your jaw in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and trying not to throw up. You hum a response, but you don’t know if he hears you. A motorcycle isn’t exactly prime time for in-depth conversation, so instead, he begins to cruise and cautiously rubs your knee to soothe you. “Almost there.” 

You groan, unconsciously pinching his shirt rather than holding around his waist. He corrects your form, taking the hand that was on your knee and flattening it against your hand on his stomach. 

“Hold,” Caleb concisely assulerts, guiding your hand to the edge of his waist, “nearly there.” 

The movement borders on hand-holding, but he doesn’t interlock your fingers together. Your face begins to feel hot—or maybe it’s the humid weather—and you pull back slightly from Caleb, silently hoping your heart isn’t beating hard enough to be felt against his back.

The excruciating ride comes to an end with Caleb parking the motorcycle near the entrance of the pier. He dusts himself off, then adjusts his shirt sleeves and takes your helmet off, ruffling your hair up. You mumble a grievance, but he brings his finger up to his lip to hush you and he pokes your cheek. 

He points to the time on his phone as you two walk the remaining distance to the restaurant. “Look at that. We’re early.” He chuckles at your annoyed expression and promises a car ride next time. 

“No—it’s fine,” you quickly respond, “we can still take the bike.”

Caleb gives you an inquisitive look. “Oh?” He pushes open the door to the restaurant with his shoulder, still looking at you. “Coming around to it?” You give him a look, and he puts his hands up in faux surrender. 

The restaurant’s hostess waits at the turn on a podium and cheerfully greets you two. “Hi! We’re a bit full. Do you have a reservation?” 

Caleb puts his hands in his pockets and lets you do the talking. You give the waitress a warm smile, telling her your name and your reservation time. 

The hostess beams with another round of performative, customer service joy. “Right! And this,” she gestures to Caleb,” is the boyfriend you mentioned?” You expect Caleb to deny the assumption, but he just glances at you.

“No, he, um, cancelled. This is just my friend.” You look away from Caleb, but out of the corner of your eye, you can see his breath begin to shallow. The hostess doesn’t notice the shift in his demeanor and offers you two a high-pitched, realizing “oh!” and ushers you to your designated table. 

When Caleb slides into the seat across from you, he improperly puts his elbows on the table, flipping through the menu and looking up at you through his lashes every now and then. The waiter comes around to take your drink orders, and you awkwardly order a water. Caleb follows suit in the ordering with some tastier sounding drink, and the air is even stuffier than the preceding hour. 

Why is the air stuffy?

“Water?” Caleb leans back a bit in his chair, letting out a laugh. “Are you onna diet, pip-squeak?” 

You silently thank and bless him for breaking the tension, because you certainly wouldn’t. You shrug and sigh heavily, although it comes out a bit shakier than you’d like. “My stomach’s a bit flippy,” you lie, toying with the edge of the table, “I probably shouldn’t have invited you—I know you’re busy.”

Caleb leans forward and tugs at his sleeves. “I’m free now, aren’t I?”

The waiter, a tall, skinny redhead, returns with your two drinks. “Are you ready to order?” He prompts. 

You look towards Caleb, who is already pointing out obscured menu items to the waiter and mumbling something you can’t hear from the other side of the table. The waiter scribbles them down, looks at you expectantly, and leaves when you tell him you’re having what Caleb is having. 

You scratch your forehead, checking your phone every couple minutes to see if Nate had texted. Of course, you opened your phone each time to an empty lockscreen apart from your phone’s Settings begging you to free up space.

You decide to make conversation. “How’s flying?”

Caleb looks up from his phone, shaking his head from side to side, as if to say so-so. “Pretty boring. What do you think about me being in the air force instead?” He fiddles with the napkin. “Feelin’ like commercial really isn’t my thing.”

Images of Caleb in a well-fitted air force uniform flicker like a dull light in your head, and you close your eyes and laugh it off. He thinks you’re laughing at him, though, so he grumbles playfully and mumbles something about him being destined to do aerial tricks in the sky. 

“I think you’d do great, Caleb.”

He chuckles. “Knew you’d say that, pip-squeak.”

The frail waiter comes back, balancing your two plates on one even thinner black platter. He lets out a sigh of relief when the plates find their way to their owners and tells you both to enjoy.

The dish in front of you is nothing like Caleb’s—but it’s everything like yours. You make a hmm? sound, and Caleb parts from slicing away at his way-too-well-done steak to point at your plate of pasta. “Also knew you’d say, ‘whatever he’s having,’ so I took care of that. Is that alright?” He scans your face for discontent, but you give him a smile and a heavy sigh, finally putting your phone away.

“Yeah, it is. Thanks, Caleb. How’d you know what I’d like, though?”

He simply laughs and nods, stuffing steak into his cheek as if winter is going to come and take it from him, leaving the answer ambiguous.

—

Your time at the restaurant with Caleb dragged into the late hours, and the chill of the night hits your face as you ding your way back out of the restaurant. Your phone buzzes again, for what seems like the twentieth time tonight, and again, you ignore it, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to produce some illusion of heat. 

Caleb shrugs his jacket off of his shoulders, draping them over yours. You open your mouth to protest, but he promptly interrupts you. “Uber or the motorcycle?”

Your face contorts in confusion. “How’re you going to get your motorcycle back then?” 

He glances at you and gestures for you to follow him to another side of the curb. “Uber back later.” He says it matter-of-factly, as if it was a given. 

You breathe out an oh, the puff of air visible in the cold. “Motorcycle is fine.”

“You sure, pip? You just ate and you hate it as is.” Caleb’s face turns to one of concern. 

“I’ll be okay.” You shrug, walking over to where his motorcycle is parked. 

He pushes his lip up in an okay then motion, helmets the two of you, and brings your jacketed arms around his waist when he straddles the front. Your phone buzzes against your leg again, and you ignore it. “Don’t throw up on me, pip-squeak.”

You give him an incoherent sound, and he revs up the motorcycle, yelling something you don’t care for over the engine. You clench your ab muscles in pure anti-projectile-vomiting will as he swerves through the streets, navigating to your house, and your nails dig into Caleb’s side, even as he slows down near your house.

Under the helmet, Caleb’s eyes narrow at the car next to yours in your driveway. “Bought a second car, pip?”

No.

You didn’t. 

You recognize that car. Your heart drops and you, at last, check your phone. Thirteen missed calls and a flurry of text messages, all from Nate.

where are you? Need to talk

i’m coming to your house

open the door. I’ll sit in your driveway all night.

You tap Caleb’s side wordlessly, and he looks back at you in concern, his lips parted. 

“Go,” you mutter, “let’s go to your house instead. My, um, power’s out. Forgot.”

Caleb eyes the light that shines from the left side of your house, but he hums and revs the engine back to life again, swerving down an unfamiliar set of roads until you two reach his apartment complex. You tug your helmet off, refusing to meet Caleb’s eyes as you approach the door of the complex.

“Everything alright?”

You drone an mhm, scratching your nape.

As you ascend the stairs and open the door to Caleb’s apartment, you notice how blandly decorated the place is, and can’t help but to tease him for it. “Do you even live here?”

He chuckles, opening the fridge and pouring some cold water for you. “I’m usually in a plane.”

You purse your lips and draw images out of the condensation on the side of the cup. That makes sense. 

“You staying over for tonight?”

The question catches you mid-sip, and you shrug. “I mean, if you’ll let me.”

Something in Caleb’s eye glints. “No, yeah, ‘course, pip-squeak.”

You shrug his jacket off of your body, draping it over the couch as you flop down on it. 

“Is the power really out at your place, or did’ya just want to spend more time with Caleb?” Caleb leans on the back of the couch, looking down at you. You cover your eyes with your forearm, letting out an exasperated sigh but offering him at least a snort, as one would do to a terrible dad joke.

The couch sinks as your feet lift up, and when you prop yourself up on your forearms, Caleb’s lap is their new location as he clicks through irrelevant Netflix shows. He looks at you and points to the screen with the remote, asking what you’d like to watch.

You shake your head no and relax back down on the couch as he rubs your ankles. “I’m tired. Do you have another bed?”

He clicks his tongue. “You can just take my bed. My couch is big enough for me to sleep on.”

You give him a look, but he just puts a finger up to his lips and rises from the couch, offering a hand to get you up. “I’ve just gotta make the bed, though. Just took the bedding outta the washer this morning. Wanna help?”

You stretch after you get up, nodding a yes in between a yawn. 

The two of you enter his room, and it is just as grimly decorated as the rest of his house is. A boring desk fills up the right space of his bedroom and an even more monotonous snake plant acts as a sore excuse for decoration in the other corner. 

“Do you even know how to decorate?”

“Nope.”

The two of you work to put the silk cases back on the pillows and relocate the other bedding items so that they don’t get in your way. 

When you lift his mattress to put the first sheet on, something—no, many things, fall out from under the mattress—like polaroids, or other glossy pictures. You think of calling out to Caleb, but your mouth clamps shut when you catch a glimpse of what looks like your face in one. In another, a fog-blurred photo of you drying your hair after a bath, taken from a high angle. Caleb’s eyes follow yours, and he drops the mattress calmly, meeting your newly fully-awake eyes. 

“Caleb—is that—”

He hushes you, walking over to your side of the bed with a slow stride. You back up, wordlessly pointing to where the pictures still lie. 

“That’s not you.”

You begin to blubber incredulously, your head starting to feel heavy. He takes your hands in his gently, as if asking for forgiveness.

“That’s not you,” he repeats, “they’re just… it’s just a project I’m doing.”

Your eyes flutter with a fatigue heavier than before. You try to say something, to call him out on such a blatant lie, but all that is left of your voice is a mere squawk. 

Caleb holds you in his arms as your body begins to feel limp, muttering the same lines over and over again. In a dream-like state, you hear him say, “Promise I’ll take care of all of this. Just been waiting… It’ll be so good. For both of us.”

—

Caleb drives a sleek, black car to your address, tilting his head in mild pity when he still sees the same car in your driveway. He murmurs irritated curse words under his breath, exiting the car and tugging his cap down as he approaches the car.

He’d rather be sleeping right now, but he loves you too much.

The man in it is sound asleep, so he taps the drivers’ side and shines a rude flashlight into the man’s eyes. The man, Nate, jumps up in shock and immediately begins to back out of the driveway.

Unfortunately, he only hits Caleb’s perfectly parked car. Caleb tuts in disappointment and flexes a gloved hand, using his shirt and fist to bash Nate’s car window in. Nate yells, but the neighborhood is much too dead asleep to care. 

Caleb grabs Nate by the shirt, pulling him up close to his face. “I told you last time, didn’t I?”

Nate stutters something, and Caleb uses the blunt of the flashlight to rear back and knock some verbiage into him. 

Nate curses, holding his face. “I’m so sorry, man, I just—”

“You just what?”

Nate begins his useless rambling again and Caleb sighs, as if this is a waste of his time, slamming Nate’s head into his steering wheel. The honk is loud, but too clipped and still not loud enough to wake anyone up. 

Caleb laughs bitterly. 

“Do you think cheating on someone—” he punches Nate, holding his breath.

“So needy,” he finally opens the car door and drags him out onto your lawn. 

“So kind,” he serves him a foot to the stomach.

“So forgiving,” he kicks Nate around until he’s on his stomach, bloody and beaten.

“So perfect,” Caleb tugs Nate up by his hair, straddling his back and forcing him to look up at him. 

“Is something that a man of God would do?” Caleb eyes the beaded cross hanging from Nate’s mirror, then mockingly looks back at him with a faux-sympathetic look.

Nate begins to blubber a string of apologies. “I’m sorry, man, seriously. I came here just to break up, promise, but you’d do the same, you know, two beautifu—”

The gunshot, this time, still doesn’t wake the neighbors. Caleb tosses it to the side, thanking earlier him for purchasing a silencer. He drops Nate’s limp head onto the grass, dusting himself off as he looks at the pitiful body seeping blood into your freshly-trimmed lawn.

“Like hell I would.”

—

Your head bangs with an anger like never before. You try to bring your hands up to cradle your thumping head, but you’re met with the resistance of zip ties. 

“What?” You mumble.

As you come to, you squint and notice Caleb in the far distance, cooking something. You’re laying on the same bed you were asked to make, and Caleb is flipping pancakes like a sitcom father. Sun attacks your eyes and you screw them shut, feeling your headache worsening. Caleb looks behind him, notices your movements, and immediately turns off the stove, jogging towards you and shutting the curtains. 

“Hey, pip-squeak,” he soothes, “you’re awake.”

You furrow your brows at him, trying to move your ankle, but that too is zip tied, this time to the foot of his bed. “What?” You repeat, struggling to sit up.

He hushes you, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. “I’ll let you go in a minute, okay? Can’t just let a wounded animal free.”

The haze is finally beginning to clear up a bit more, and Caleb is double-checking if the black-out curtains are fully closed. “I saw the photos of me that you have and then you—you drugged me.”

Caleb snaps his head towards you with a look of tenderness, but also of hurt. “No, pip—well, yes—but I was planning on you just being able to hear me. Just not being able to be hurt. What I put in your water won’t harm you. I promise.”

You look around the room, and Caleb occupies the area next to you on the bed. He softly takes your face, tracing his hands down to your own hands. “Do these hurt?”

You reluctantly nod, so he cuts them off with scissors he produced from his back pocket. You flex your wrists, looking at him cautiously. 

“Just calm down, okay?” Caleb takes your hands in his, facing you with his full body. The zip tie on your ankle digs into your skin, so you wince. Caleb gets up, flips the cover over, and switches the restraint with something much more comfortable. He apologizes the whole way through, then returns to his spot beside you.

“Want you to stay with me forever, pip-squeak,” Caleb mumbles, bringing his hand up to soothe, or at least try to soothe, your frenzied face. He brings his forehead to meet yours. “God… it’s like you were sent for me.”

Your mouth drops. The unnamed drug still clouds your thoughts, so you breathe something along the lines of “I have a boyfriend… you’re crazy.”

Caleb clips and his face darkens. “No. I took care—um, he was cheating on you. He broke up with you last night. Check your messages.”

He gently ushers your cold phone into your hands, and you scroll through the messages of Nate saying that you’re over and that he “never really loved you anyway.”

Tears begin to stream down your face, and you cannot pinpoint their exact, singular cause. Caleb hushes you, taking your sobbing frame into his arms as he lets you cry into his shoulder. 

“I love you,” he hums, “I love you.”

He runs a hand through your hair, rubbing your back and pulling you closer.

“I love you,” he repeats.

[fawnme1]

THE SOFTEST THING — WILLNE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

previous part ,, next part

an; sorry for the delay, my exams are starting now so i’ve been revising more

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

You’d been building up to this for weeks — little hints, a cryptic post here, a song teaser there. But now, with your album out and the world starting to react, you knew it was time for the real reveal.

It was late afternoon when you dropped it.

The photo was simple: You and Will, leaning against the hood of a car in the late afternoon sunlight. Both of you smiling — not the polished, curated kind of smile, but one that was a little too real, a little too perfect for the camera.

“it’s out now. and so are we. thank you to everyone who’s been part of this journey — and to you, will, for being the melody i didn’t know i needed. #TheSoftestThing”

You pressed post, set your phone down, and immediately started pacing. Your heart was in your throat.

Will, standing beside you, put his hands on your shoulders and gave you a soft smile. “It’s done,” he said, his voice low and reassuring. “You’re good.”

The moment the notification hit that the post was live, it was like the floodgates opened.

user1 wait what is happening right now???

user2 i’m actually screaming. this is too cute. is this for real or am i having a fever dream

user3 OH MY GOD. SHE REALLY DID IT. SHE AND WILL???

user4 i have no words. all i know is we need an album tour, stat!!

user5 track 8. i’m calling it now. this is the heartbreak song of 2025

And just like that, the internet lost its mind. The mix of pure shock, joy, and confusion about your relationship was overwhelming. You even saw a few memes already, ones about Will trying to act all nonchalant while looking like he was about to burst from happiness.

But then, the messages from Joe and Alfie came rolling in.

Joe: it’s real. i’m crying. @/alfie, what did i tell you???

Alfie: i’ve been telling you for months. also, does anyone know where i can find my dignity after being the third wheel on this entire saga?

You laughed, but before you could respond, your phone started ringing. It was Joe.

“Hello?” you answered, holding in your excitement.

“Okay, no more teasing,” Joe said in that all-too-familiar voice. “We’re celebrating tonight. Release party. We’re all there. No arguments. You need to let go for one night, yeah?”

You bit your lip. “But, like, it’s a big deal. I don’t want to make it a—”

“No, you’re making it fun. This is your moment, and you’re dragging me, Alfie, and Will along for the ride whether you like it or not. Come on, we’ll even get fancy drinks.”

You looked over at Will, who raised an eyebrow and gave you a small shrug, his smile crooked. “I mean, if Joe’s going to get fancy drinks…”

The party was chaotic, but in the best possible way.

Joe had pulled some strings and rented out a venue — not too big, not too small, just the right amount of space for friends, family, and a select group of fans who’d gotten invites. Alfie, as always, was the unofficial party planner, running around ensuring there was enough food and no shortage of lighting effects.

You arrived together with Will, walking into the venue hand-in-hand, the room buzzing as people saw the two of you — the first clear confirmation that it was real, that you were finally taking the leap.

Alfie was the first to notice. He grinned wickedly, popping over to you with a drink in hand. “Finally,” he said dramatically. “The worst-kept secret in the UK is out. You’re welcome.”

“Thank you for not ruining my lfie,” you teased, nudging him slightly.

Joe appeared behind him, camera in hand and slapped Will on the back with a loud “Oi, mate!” then pointed the lens at you. “Get over here, both of you. I need a ‘newly official’ picture.”

Will groaned good-naturedly but came over anyway, wrapping an arm around your waist as Joe snapped a few quick shots, Alfie laughing in the background.

The night was filled with dancing, laughing, and a few quiet moments with Will where it was just the two of you, tucked away in the back corner of the room with your own drinks. There were no more nerves — just the steady comfort of being seen by people who truly knew you, both the public and the private parts of your life.

After some time, Joe called everyone to the center, microphone in hand. “Alright, alright,” he shouted. “This is a moment for the best album I’ve ever heard. To Y/N — the legend, the lyricist, the one who broke the internet!”

Everyone cheered, raising their glasses.

You laughed, a little embarrassed, but took the mic from him anyway. “Thank you, everyone. Thank you to everyone who’s supported me, who’s listened, and to Will… for being a real-life song.”

The room went quiet, and Will’s face softened as you turned to him, your hand brushing against his. He winked. “Anytime, love.”

And just like that, your heart wasn’t racing with fear anymore. It was full.

[savannahsdeath]

hiii I love your work! could you pretty please do some toxic ellie? :)

TOXIC!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

summary: a miserable attempt to leave your toxic girlfriend

warnings: preferably 18+, just lots of toxic shit, manipulating, reader is crying

writers note: probably the only toxic post you'll see on my profile. honestly, i dont even know why i wrote this and im posting it just for the anon. i dont support any toxic behavior, cuz even a simple fanfic can bring some harm. dont read it if youre sensitive to such topics and if you decide to read it, dont romanticize it and dont blame me for any bad feelings you felt while reading - youre responsible for your own media consumption, im not forcing anyone to read. as i said, i just post it for the anon and also because i dont want it to just sit in my drafts (i dont have the guts to delete it). ugh its kinda long but i just want to make sure everyones safe, please take care🩷

you were sitting in your bed with your head buried between your knees for half an hour now, ignoring the buzzing of your phone. you caught her with another girl. you should cry and feel miserable, and all you could think of was; 'finally! finally a reason to leave her!!'. all you could feel was happiness.

but leaving her wasn't easy. you tried a few times before.

'maybe it'll be different this time', you hoped. but the way you kept receiving notifications from her said otherwise. 'maybe if i ignore her for a few more minutes, she'll let me go.'

you tried to put your phone down, but your hands won't let you. your thumbs kept reaching for the screen in a desperate, involuntary action. you were powerless to stop it. you knew you shouldn't respond. you know you should walk away, but you couldn't. every time she messaged you, your heart beated faster and your breathing quickened. you knew this isn't the best thing for you, but a part of you was still clinging to hope.

'enough, stop it.' you ordered to yourself.

you picked up your phone, deciding to call your friend. she'll make you remember all the cruel things ellie did and leaving her will be easier.

your hands were shaking and you were truly scared of what's going to happen. you hestitated for too long before clicking on your friend's profile and.. lost your chance.

ellie was calling you. she wasn't giving up and she was probably pissed off by now.

you sighed and whispered; 'sorry' to your future self, before answering the call.

"why aren't you answering to my texts, huh?" she asked in an accusatory tone, as if you were the one who did something wrong.

your breath hitched as you heard her voice. there's no going back now. "i'm sorry, ellie, it's over." you mumbled and shook your head in disbelief. 'i'm sorry'?? for what? where was your confidence?

she took it from you, just like she's going to take anything she wants.

"i'll pick you up in a few minutes." she announced and you felt tears starting to well up in your eyes.

great. so she's on her way here.

you took a deep breath to stop your voice from quivering. "i'm not going anywhere- not with you."

ellie laughed, thinking it's all a joke. "you're funny, honey. you know you come crawling back to me everytime." she replies calmly. "so get ready. i'm coming to pick you up, and then we can talk about this. like grown-ups."

ellie was good at controlling you. she'll say she's coming to pick you up, and you'll be waiting on your porch when she arrives. she had a firm grip on you and she knew it.

not this time.

"like grown-ups?" you nervously laughed. "you cheated on me. again."

ellie didn't get angry. she wasn't even surprised.

"don't overreact, babe." she replied in an irritated tone. "it's not like it was anything serious. it's just some random girl. i'm still with you. you should know that."

you were stunned by her cavalier attitude. she really thought it's no big deal.

"leave me alone." if there was even a little bit of toughness in your voice before, it all left. now, you were just simply begging her to stop. "please."

ellie's confidence and her nonchalant attitude was getting to you. you felt angry, but at the same time, you were starting to doubt yourself.

you wanted to hang up, but you couldn't. you just waited for her reaction, praying this'll be the end. but you knew everything depended on what ellie wants, and for her, only her own good mattered.

ellie chuckled. "oh, sweetheart. you think you can just break up with me over the phone? we're not even having a fight here. come on, be reasonable. let's just talk this through. i'll be there soon."

you proudly raised your chin, even though she couldn't see that. the tears ruined your confident facade anyway. "i locked the door."

she stayed silent for a moment, not expecting that from you. but she always had a plan b, and you realised that as soon as you heard her laugh. "i'll check that myself."

you heard her car arrive outside your house, and an instant wave of regret washed over you.

she knocked on the front door. "i'm here, love. open up." her voice was gentle, with an apologetic tone.

you knew it was all a ploy to get you to open the door. you knew this was just another manipulative tactic she was using, but it was starting to work.

"come on, be a smart girl." she continued in a sweet voice. "or we'll do this the hard way."

you cursed yourself for how weak you felt, even though it wasn't your fault.

"ellie, please..." you begged, with as much authority as you could muster, but your pleads still sounded weak.

"what's that, babe? are you crying?" she responded in a mocking tone.

you felt powerless to resist her. your stomach twisted in knots, but your fingers reached for the knob. your other hand quickly wiped away your tears, though there were some visible smudges left. you stared at the doorknob in your hand, fighting every instinct in your body to open it and let her in. but you knew she'll get her way, sooner or later. you just wanted to get this over with.

with a shaking hand, you opened the door. you saw that ellie was holding a set of keys - there was definitely one to your house too. she could just unlock the door, but she wanted to check if you'll listen to her. you didn't even want to think about what would happen if you didn't give up.

she walked inside like she owned the place, and she didn't even look at you. she knew she's got you wrapped around her finger.

"good girl." she said, with the same mocking tone.

ellie's eyes darted around the room, and she walked over to take a closer look at a framed photo of the two of you on your shelf. she smirked, letting out a sarcastic 'hmph, so cute'.

you stood there, defeated, as she walked past you and paced around your home. she made herself comfortable, as if she belongs there. you tried to keep a brave face, but she could see right through it.

she sat down and turned to you. "tell me, why we ended up here?" she asked, her voice was cold and unforgiving, but it also sounded curious. "why are you trying to leave me? aren't you happy?"

you felt your lips tremble, as you parted them to speak. "you know damn well what you did."

she stood up and walked up to you, standing right in your face and leaning a little to match your eye level. "fucked another girl? huh? is that it?" she stroked your cheek with the back of her fingers, mocking your pout.

you flinched away from her touch, but she grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you towards her.

"i just had some fun." she said calmly. "besides, you can't blame me for wanting something different. just trying to make up for what you lack." she caressed your face, tracing your lips. it was almost gentle, as if she wasn't even trying to hurt you. but her words cut deep. "now, stop acting like a baby." she let go of your face. "i'm trying to have a mature conversation with you."

the obedient, scared side of you wiped your tears away and straightened up without thinking, but everytime you closed your eyes - everytime you blinked - another wave of salty liquid streamed down your cheeks.

you sniffled and tried to keep it together, but your body was shaking and feeling dizzy. still, you stood your ground.

"please, ellie... i can't do this anymore." you begged in a shaky voice.

"sh, shhh..." ellie wrapped her hands around you, rubbing your hair in a soothing motion. "don't say dumb things. i already know you can't live without me. you know that too." she grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to look at her for a second. "don't you?"

her embrace felt somehow comforting, not matching the poisoning effect of her words. you clinged onto her, hoping to get as much from this rare moment as possible.

but you knew, deep down, that this is just another manipulation tactic. you shouldn't fall for her games.

"there, there." she whispered to you. she held you even tighter, as if she was trying to absorb every ounce of energy you had left.

she pulled back and looked you straight in the eyes. "do you see what happens when you try to leave me, babe?"

"i am leaving you." you said with as much conviction as you could muster. "i'm serious this time."

but ellie just smiled, treating your words like a joke. "that's funny, honey. this is just another one of your little tantrums. you're just upset because you haven't gotten enough attention these days. but you don't want to lose me." she ran her hands along your cheeks and caressed your hair. "you'll come back to me. you'll come crawling back, just like always. because you can't live without me."

you instantly buried your face in her chest, as she started stroking your back.

she sighed. "are you finished?"

you felt ashamed. you failed, once again. you let her win.

you lifted your head up so you could see her expression. her smile was even more mocking and cruel now that you've given in to her.

"that's more like it, babe." she said with that same condescending tone. she pulled you in for another hug, as if nothing happened. "now, let's forget all about today, okay?" she whispered in your ear. "my pretty girl."

[daisynik7]

OMG I love your party idea it's so cool!! how about "slow down baby" by Christina Aguilar for Eren Yeager 💓💓 one of my favs

Slow Down Baby

Slow down baby and don't act crazy, don't you know you can look all you want but you just can't touch

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.4k

cw: modern-day au, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, implications of cheating, cheating, sex toy use (vibrator), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, princess)

Summary: Your boyfriend Jean is working late again, and you can’t help but be suspicious that there’s something nefarious happening behind your back. Pent up from not seeing him this whole week, you take this alone time to treat yourself to some much-needed self-care. 

Eren Jaeger knows that his friend is cheating on you, and he hates it. You don’t deserve it, not one bit. When Jean asks him to do a favor to try to cover up his infidelity, Eren seriously considers telling you the truth, ultimately deciding against it because of “bro code”. But what happens when he walks in on you taking all your sexual frustrations out on a little toy? Can he really keep his mouth shut?

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request @shepnicolo! Love me some Xtina, great song for the y2k karaoke party! This was a fun one for me, so I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading everyone! MDNI banner designed by @/cafekitsune. Header image from Pinterest.

“Hey babe. Sorry, but I’m going to be at work late again tonight.” It’s already past nine in the evening when Jean calls you, informing you of this last-minute change of plans.

“Again?” He’s had overtime every day since last week. He’s also been leaving early in the mornings so by the time you wake up, he’s gone. It feels like you’ve barely seen him at all. “How about dinner?”

“Yeah, yeah. I already ate.” There’s shuffling in the background. And maybe it’s just your paranoia, but you swear you hear a woman giggling quietly beside him.

You swallow hard, asking, “Is someone with you?”

“Huh?” His tone shifts, as if you’re asking the most ridiculous question. “What do you mean?”

Immediately regretting it, you rephrase, not wanting to sound accusatory. “I was just wondering if anyone else is working overtime with you. That’s all. Didn’t want you to be lonely there.” The last statement is a lie; you sincerely hope he’s alone and not doing what you’re suspicious of.

He clears his throat nervously. “Oh. Well, yeah, there are a few people here with me, so you have nothing to worry about.” 

Too late for that, you think, listening carefully for any more clues. When you can’t hear anything else, you sigh into the phone. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll see you later then.” You wait for him to respond, but he doesn’t. Quickly, you add, “I love you – ” 

He hangs up before you can get it out completely. 

Jean had been pulling away from you for a while now. It didn’t just start with the overtime. It began over a month ago, when you noticed how glued to the phone he was while the two of you watched TV together. When you asked who he was texting, he answered, “It’s my new coworker. She’s asking some questions about work.” At the time, it didn’t raise any alarms in your head, so you dropped it. Every day, he was immersed to the screen, sometimes excusing himself to take a call outside on your balcony. You resisted every urge, every temptation to eavesdrop on his conversations, look through his text messages, interrogate him further. 

You continue to give him the benefit of the doubt. There’s no way Jean would ever cheat on you. While you haven’t been together for that long, you like to think that you know him well enough to be sure he’s a faithful boyfriend. You don’t even have proof of his infidelity. It would be unfair to accuse him of such atrocities over some silly speculation, right?

Since he’s been in the office late this entire week, the two of you haven’t had sex in what seems like forever. Pent up and frustrated, you take this time to care for yourself, since Jean’s not around to do it. It starts with a serving of your favorite dessert, then a warm bath, soothing the tense muscles in your body. You surround yourself in a comfy robe, brushing your teeth with the full intention of falling asleep as soon as you do the one thing you need to make yourself feel better tonight. 

With all the lights off, except for the dim glow of the lampshade on the nightstand, you snuggle into your bed, untying the robe so it’s splayed beneath you. Inside the drawer, you retrieve your favorite vibrator and a small bottle of lube, pouring a tiny bead on the tip. Spreading your legs wide, you smear it on yourself. Using your free hand, you navigate to your favorite dirty audio, playing it out loud. 

~~~

Eren hates this. Absolutely hates it. 

He’s driving towards your apartment with a set of keys in his pocket and a bouquet of roses sitting in the passenger seat. All because your friend is a piece of shit. 

Eren’s known for a while now that Jean is cheating on you. It started with a not-so-subtle comment in the group chat. My new coworker is fucking hot. That alone disgusted him. Connie, of course, laughed it off. Armin didn’t say anything, probably unsure how to respond at such a statement. It only went downhill from there. 

She’s got the best body omg.

 I’m in trouble now.

This is bad guys lol. 

Don’t tell the girls okay? 

Jean has always rubbed Eren the wrong way, ever since they were kids. But at least he respected him. Now, not so much. Not at all, actually. You don’t deserve this, not one bit. No one does, but especially you. And maybe the reason he can’t completely berate Jean is because Eren’s harboring a secret of his own: He’s head-over-heels for you. 

Of course, he’s never acted on it. Bro code, right? Thou shall not hook up with another bro’s girl, or whatever the unofficial rule is. But what if said bro is acting like a total asshole? And what if this bro would treat you the way you deserve and more? Then what?

It’s because of this stupid code that he finds himself in the most ridiculous, aggravating situation. Earlier in the night, Jean texted the group chat. SOS SOS SOS. Armin and Connie were both busy, so didn’t respond, leaving Eren to answer the cry for help.

Jean explains it quickly through the phone, voice all panicky and guilty. “Dude, I need you to do me the hugest favor right now. I would you owe big time if you could help me out.” Basically, he needs Eren to buy a big bouquet of roses and deliver them to your apartment, where you can see them first thing in the morning. 

“Why?” he asks, irritated by this request.

“I think she’s suspicious. So I need to do something to throw her off the scent,” he explains. Eren can already see the cocky, shit-eating grin on his face. Why is he friends with this douchebag? And why did he agree to do this? He’s complicit in this mess now, not only for keeping his friend’s infidelity a secret, but for helping him continue it. He wants so badly to tell you the truth so you can escape this relationship. At the same time, he’s supposed to have his friend’s back no matter what, even if he is being a massive prick. 

So, he decides to help his buddy out, no matter how much it’s killing him. He meets Jean at an unknown address, most likely his side chick’s place. “Dude, seriously. I owe you one,” he says, patting him on the shoulder.

Eren nods silently, not wanting to speak in case he lets his true feelings slip. Jean hands him the spare keys to your apartment. “Just sneak in and set the flowers on the kitchen counter. She won’t suspect a thing.” It takes all of Eren’s willpower not to punch him in the face, so he quickly turns around to get into his car and drive off. 

It’s almost midnight by the time he arrives to your apartment. Surely, you’re asleep by now, still completely unaware that your bastard boyfriend is cheating on you. Still, he shouldn’t meddle in your relationship, even though he wants what’s best for you, which is not Jean.

He unlocks the door quietly, tip-toeing into the kitchen to set the flowers down, as instructed. He notices your bedroom door is ajar, a faint streak of light coming from the inside, and the undeniable sounds of a man growling expletives like, Come for me, slut. Yeah, give it all to me.

His eyes widen, surprised that you’re still awake, even more so that you’re listening to something like this. Curiosity gets the best of him; he stealthily makes his way beside your door, peering through the tiny opening to get a glimpse of you. 

You’re laid out on the bed, bare and exposed, gripping a vibrator to your pussy. The sight alone is enough to put him into a frenzy. Hearing your soft whimpers from your mouth along with the electric buzz from the toy fluttering on your clit sends him into a trance that he can’t snap out of. Before he can think logically, he’s pushing against the door, making his presence known. 

~~~

“Eren!” You sit up in bed, flinging the toy off to the side, covering yourself with your robe. “What are you doing here?”

He stands before you, a crazed look in his eyes, an obvious bulge protruding from his pants. He stutters, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” you repeat, glaring at him. 

His mouth is agape, unable to get the words out. You’re losing patience, watching him struggle to explain why he’s here, inside your home, watching you masturbate. You grab your phone, making sure to exit out of whatever filthy audio that’s still playing, fingers ready to dial your boyfriend’s number when he blurts out, “Jean is cheating on you.”

You freeze on the spot, heart sinking from having your worst fear confirmed. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, staring down at his feet. “I’m so sorry.”

There are no tears in your eyes, surprisingly. Instead, your throat is heavy with emotion as you repeat for a third time, “So, what are you doing here?”

Still avoiding your gaze, he answers, “Jean thought you were catching on to him, so he asked me to bring you flowers to throw you off.” 

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Unbelievable.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you ask, “How long have you known about it?”

“A few weeks.” He looks up at you, saying your name this time. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

After a deep breath, you sigh, relaxing against the headboard. “I’m sorry you’re involved in it.” You smile at him. “And I’m sorry you had to see me…you know.” Embarrassment catches up to you, heat rushing into your cheeks, aware that you’ve just been caught touching yourself with your vibrator, which is still in plain view beside you. 

He steps forward, inching closer towards the end of the bed. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. Jean is a fucking asshole. You don’t deserve this.”

“What do I deserve, Eren?” You peer at him, tears welling in your eyes now, desperate for any ounce of comfort he can give to you in this moment. 

He sits near you on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. “You deserve to be loved by someone who’s always going to treat you right. Someone who’s going to love you from head to toe.” 

“Someone like you?”

A gentle smile forms on his face. “Yeah. Someone like me.”

No matter how badly you want to close the distance between you, want to feel the love he says he can give to you, guilt holds you back. Sensing your hesitation, he scooches nearer. “Let me help you. Tell me what you want.”

Eren has always been sweet to you. Too sweet, in fact. You’ve always gotten the sense that he cares more for you than he lets on. And maybe it’s because you’re hurt right now, fragile, heartbroken, even a little scornful towards Jean. Whatever it is, it makes you realize you’ve been too busy with the wrong man to notice the right one has been here all along. However, two wrongs don’t make a right. Even with the confirmation of Jean’s adulterous behavior, you’re still his girlfriend until you officially end it, which will be soon. 

In the meantime, you manage to come up with something you can do to take advantage of this moment. 

You let go of your robe, letting it fall to your sides, displaying your nude body to him, arousal wet between your legs from earlier. He watches you carefully, cock straining against his sweatpants, breathing heavily.

“I’m not a cheater like Jean,” you mutter, spreading yourself wider, showing off your glistening cunt.

“I know you’re not,” he whispers, scooting forward, hand drifting to his lap.

Reaching for your vibrator, maintaining your gaze on him, you say, “I’m a good girl.” 

He swallows hard, palming his erection through the fabric. “Fuck. You’re a good girl. Such a good girl.”

“You can look, but you can’t touch. Understand?” Your finger hovers over the button, tip pressed to your throbbing clit.  

He nods erratically, licking his lips. “Yes.”

“Good,” you smirk, turning the toy on, ready to give him a show. “Tell me all the things you want to do to me.”

He shoves his boxers down, cock sprung stiff against his abdomen, the slit shiny with precum, veins bulging on his shaft. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, better than what’s-his-face by a longshot, though you might be biased now, given the circumstances. Eren wraps his fist around it, jerking himself off while he watches you tease the tip on your swollen bud. “I want to fuck you into this mattress,” he moans. “Pound this pussy until we break the bed.”

“Yeah?” you purr, pressing the fluttering tip deeper into your clit. “What else?”

“Want to bounce you on this cock, watch you cream all over me,” he huffs, stroking himself faster. “God, this is hot. So fucking hot.”

Pleasure ripples through your body, toes curled from the sensation, so close to your climax with his soothing voice spitting his nasty fantasies at you. “I wish you could fuck me right now,” you confess, limbs quivering from ecstasy, pussy fluttering around nothing, aching to be filled. 

“Me too, princess. Me too. But you’re a good girl. And good girls don’t cheat.” He readjusts himself onto the bed, kneeling in front of you, stroking his hard dick. “I can give you this cum, though. That’s not cheating, right?”

You blindly agree with him, approaching your climax. “Yeah, give it to me. Give it to me, Eren.”

He swears loudly, shooting his load onto you, spilling over your clit, dripping down your pussy. “Fuck,” he groans, marveling at how pretty you look covered in his seed. 

You smile at him, relaxing against your pillows, dipping the tip of your vibrator in his mess. His mouth hangs open, eyes half lidded, watching as you stuff it inside your cunt. 

“Holy fuck,” he whispers, stroking his cock again, eyes fixated on your pussy. 

Do technicalities even matter anymore? All you know is that you want to be loved from head to toe by Eren Jaeger. You set aside the toy, sitting up to close the gap between you, pressing your lips to his. He hesitates before deepening the kiss, tongue slipping inside your mouth, sloppy and eager for more.

When you break apart to catch your breaths, he leans his forehead against yours, whispering, “Are you going to be a bad girl now and take this cock?”

Grinning, you nod, pulling him in for another kiss. 

[kteezy997]

Daddy's Boy-Part Three//t.c.

Information: little bit of angst, and lots of fluff

You kept your phone close at all times that evening after getting home from work. Theo asked about his dad when you picked him up from daycare, when you got home, while you were making dinner, when you were eating dinner together, and he even took a break from playing in his room to ask about him once more.

"He promised he would call, Theo, but he’s working. So you just have to be patient." you had told the anxious three-year-old.

It did feel like ages for you as well as you waited to hear the phone and Timmy's voice on the other end of it. You felt yourself falling for him all over again. You had no way of stopping it, nor did you really want to.

You were beginning to worry that it would be passed Theo's bedtime by the time Timmy called and he would miss talking to his father.

Time dragged on, and bedtime came. Theo was obviously upset that he did not get to talk to his daddy. Meeting him and playing with him the day before was like a whole new beginning for the young boy.

You told your son that you were sorry, but that you were sure Daddy just got caught up with his job.

"What job does Daddy have?" Theo asked as you helped him into bed.

"Well," you decided to tell him the truth, as he would find it out eventually, "he makes movies."

"Like superheroes?"

"Kind of, yeah. Um, he pretends to be other people in movies. It's called acting. Your dad is an actor."

"Wow, that's cool." Theo smiled, "I wish he came to play today."

"You'll see him again soon, I promise. Daddy loves you, bubs." you then kissed your little boy's forehead. "Get some sleep, okay? I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay. Goodnight, Momma."

You watched him turn onto his left side, his long lashes fluttering closed. You were instantly reminded of Timmy sleeping the same way, on the same side, facing you in the bed. He would get comfortable and then pull you into his chest, holding you all night long. You always slept so well when you were with Timmy.

Timmy loved to cuddle, and so did his son. It was so crazy to you how alike they really were, even without being in each other's lives. It was as if they were in sync no matter what.

You left Theo's room, hoping that Timmy would still call. You hoped he would call and make plans to come hang out with his son soon.

But that call never came. You were shocked that you hadn't heard anything from him, not even a text, before you went to bed. He had seemed so eager to talk to Theo again. Your heart sank, thinking that he didn't mean it. Those old feelings of being unwanted came to you as you tossed and turned in your sleep that night.

This is what you wanted to avoid all along. This sadness, this feeling of being alone, none of it was what you wanted for your child.

You decided to invite happy thoughts to your mind. You knew Timmy, he had no malice in his heart. He wouldn't ever hurt anyone on purpose. You were sure that he would have an explanation for tonight.

…..

The next morning, you had a text message from your son’s father:

I am so sorry! Please tell Theo I didn’t mean to miss our call. Just call me when you wake up and I will explain everything.

You didn’t type out a response, you called him, eager to hear what he had to say. You tried to make your disappointment in him subside.

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night.” Timmy answered, “My meetings ran over into the evening and I just got home and crashed. I was so exhausted.”

“Okay, but that’s not an excuse, Timmy.” you did sympathize with him, for sure. He was still extremely new to the parenting thing. But you also wanted to be firm with him, because this was a serious matter, and he needed to really understand that.

“I know it’s not. But can you give me another chance to make it up to you and Theo? Please?” he was really trying, you knew that. He only wanted to make things right.

“Of course you can have another chance. Um, are you busy later today? You can come with me to pick him up from daycare.”

“No, I’m not busy. I’d love to do that!”

“Okay, great. Just send me your address and I’ll pick you up after I get off work?”

“Sounds perfect. I can’t wait to see him. Bye, y/n.”

“Bye, Timmy.”

…….

“So, I talked to Timothée-I mean, your daddy and he said he was so sorry about missing your call last night, but he’s gonna be there with me to pick you up from daycare.” you said to your son as you were ready to walk out of the door together.

"My daddy is gonna pick me up! Yaaay! I so excited!" Theo cheered.

You giggled, "Yep, he's excited to see you too."

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, and then finally it was time to pick Timmy up. He was waiting for you outside his apartment building. He smiled when he saw you pull up.

He opened the passenger side door and hopped into your car. "Hey, how was your day?" he asked. His bubbly demeanor was intact as ever.

"Oh it was good. Kinda boring."

"Same here. Had some phone calls and emails, but nothing major. Did you tell Theo I was coming?" he asked, looking over at you as you put the car in drive and took off.

"Yes, I told him. He was super excited. He even said so." you giggled.

"Good, so he's not upset with me?"

"No. But I think you and I should talk about some things later, like, if you would eventually like to keep him overnight and things like that." You glanced over at him and he nodded immediately.

"Yeah, I'd love that. You're right, we do have a lot to discuss. This is all so new to me still."

"I know it is, and I want to help you with the process as much as I can. I can tell that you really want to be in his life, and I want us to be successful coparents. Theo deserves the best."

"I agree."

.......

You lead the way with Timmy into the gathering of other parents at the daycare center waiting to pick their children up as well.

"Oh, there he is." you nodded ahead, spotting Theo as he sat at a small table with a sweet looking little red-haired girl. You then noticed that Theo was holding hands with the girl.

"What-uh, what's going on there? Why is he holding some girl's hand?" Timmy asked, frowning.

"I think that is Everly, his little girlfriend." you said, looking at his face for a reaction.

Timmy was clearly taken aback, "Girlfriend?!" His voice was rather loud and a few parents glared over at the two of you.

"Keep your voice down, Timmy." you warned him in hushed tones.

"Sorry." he whispered, then returned his voice to a softer, indoor one. "I just don't know how to feel about my three-year-old having a girlfriend.

You laughed, "It's harmless, Timmy. They’re just little kids. And she's sweet. She and Theo play so well together."

Timmy sighed, all serious, "Yeah, well I don't think I had a girlfriend that young."

You shook your head, giggling, "You're ridiculous."

"Okay, parents, you may collect your children!" called out one of the daycare teachers.

Theo was one of the first kids to come out, and he yelled, "Daddy!" as he ran into Timmy's arms.

"Hey buddy!" Timmy sang as he picked up his son into a warm embrace.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of the two of them. They were like two halves of the same soul. Seeing your son so happy made your heart warm, but seeing Timmy acting so soft and carefree with your child made you melt.

You all went out for pizza because Theo told his daddy that that was his favorite food. Afterwards, they played for hours at home.

For some reason, Theo wanted to bring his basketball hoop into the living room. You said, "Okay, as long as you're careful and don't break anything."

You thought that maybe he wanted you to see him and his dad playing. Like he wanted you to be apart of it too. You could see how delighted Theo was to play with Timmy. He'd never had a male figure to play these games with. He also loved the challenge of someone bigger than him trying to block the hoop when he would shoot the ball.

After playing basketball for awhile, Theo wanted to play with his building blocks, so he and Timmy dragged his big box of blocks into the living area as well. You got a kick out of their antics.

They had built a rather impressive castle together by the time it got dark outside. "And that's where the princess lives." Theo said, pointing to the highest point of the pretend castle. "She has a pet dragon that lives outside the castle."

"Oh, does the dragon protect the princess?" asked Daddy Timothee.

"Yes, it does! He breathe fire at anyone who tries to hurt the princess."

You smiled at how animated your son could be. But he came by it honestly, as he was Timothee Chalamet's offspring.

"Theo tonight is bath night, okay?" you said, reminding him.

"Okay." said the three-year-old. He looked down, disappointed about playtime with dad coming to an end.

........

But Theo's chipper mood returned when Timmy told him he could stay to help him with his bath. Theo put his little shark bathrobe on after dried off and Timmy offered to brush his damp, curly hair.

You sat on the toilet lid, as Timmy kneeled down to his son's height to comb through the tangled locks on his head.

Theo groaned as the brush tugged on his hair.

"Yeah, I know that hurts buddy, I'll be more gentle." Timmy squinted his eyes, as he became more focused on the rats in Theo's hair. He made shorter, slower strokes with the brush, combing throught the curls thoroughly, so Theo wouldn’t feel any pulling.

You realized that Timmy had understood Theo's hair texture better than anyone else ever had because it was the same as his own.

“Okay, all done.” Timmy announced, patting Theo on the head.

You let Timmy put Theo to bed. The little one was actually pretty tired after the long day, and didn’t fight going to bed at all.

You waited for Timmy in the kitchen. You both knew that a discussion was needed.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @robertpattins0nswh0re @yukideadinside @mel-vaz @thatoneweirdgirl17 @iwishchalamet @jindongdongie @elloise0 @timotheechalametsgfnotclickbait @renny26 @briefkittenearthquake

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Tummy Hurts- Christopher Sturniolo

Summary: when Chris falls in love with another woman while being in a rocky relationship with you, and dating you on and off

Warnings: cursing, crying, feelings on envy, yelling, use of Y/N, angst

A/n: TUMMY HURTS BY RENE RAPP>>>> also I got this idea while taking a beach nap lol

My relationship with Chris was always rocky but at the end of every day we always told each other that no matter what it would always be us, no one could turn our heads, and we always promised that after every fight.

When Chris and I first started dating I knew he’d be doing collabs with girls and be around girls on the occasion, which I typically wasn’t the jealous type but Chris is an amazing man and very attractive.

Chris had been hanging out with his friend Sam a lot, which didn’t bug me much if not at all, Sam was always respectful of my relationship with Chris and always made sure Chris would text me if they did anything sporadically, sometimes Chris would even spend the night there if I was working overtime.

Tonight I had originally told Chris I was working a little over but I wasn’t, I wanted to surprise him with a new set of lingerie I bought specifically for him, I know our 2 years isn’t till next week but our schedules don’t line up enough to see each other so I’m celebrating with him today.

I just pulled into Sam’s house to pick up Chris, and to say I was excited was an understatement, I was ECSTATIC. For obvious reasons I couldn’t just walk in Sam’s house with lingerie on so I was wearing some of Chris’ new fresh love set, I know it gets him excited every time I’m in his clothes or his brand, no matter how many times I’ve worn them.

I knocked on the front door eagerly waiting for someone to answer the door, and to my surprise it was Sam. “Oh hey Y/N” his eyes widened when he saw me at the front door, he was stuck like a deer in headlights.

“Hey Sam, is Chris here?” I had a small smile on my face hoping the reason for his sudden facial expression was because he wasn’t expecting me.

He scratched the back of his head nervously “he uh- he just- he actually left here to go to his house like uh- 30 minutes ago?” He stuttered.

“Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you then.. he just said he’d be here all night…” my voice trailed off.

“See you around Y/N” he quickly replied shutting the door.

Weird. Very weird. Chris never leaves Sam’s house without telling me. As soon as I got in my car, I opened Life360 to find Chris’ location was off, he never turns his location off, EVER, even when we were in arguments or on our ‘breaks’ we never turned that off.

I decided to do what anyone else would do and text him. ‘Christopher’ my message read. He immediately read my message. His bubble would pop up and then go away, that went on for a good few minutes.

‘Yea?’ He replied. No joke about how I used his ‘government name’ as he calls it? Funny, but not funny haha funny WEIRD.

‘Is there any specific reason why your location is off? Or is Life360 just messing up again? I know it does it from time to time’ i wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and maybe his phone was acting up.

Once again his bubble would pop up and down. ‘Idk ma, I’m at Sam’s house so could jus be the app IG’ there’s no benefit of the doubt anymore. He’s straight up lying.

‘Funny cause I got off early and wanted to surprise you by picking you up and celebrating our 2 years early and he said you weren’t there that you left to go back to the house… soooooooooo’ why would he be lying? This is not like Chris.

This time I was left on read. No bubble just read. I wasn’t just fucking pissed i was ENRAGED. Call me a crazy girlfriend but after all we’ve been through you’d do the same thing.

My drive home from Sam’s was filled with road rage of idiots who can’t drive, screaming song lyrics, etc. as soon as I reached home my blood was boiling. I spammed Chris with impulsive messages.

‘Where the fuck are you?’

‘Christopher Owen sturniolo pick ur lying ass phone up’

‘Ur the biggest lying fuckass person I know’

‘You know nevermind keep ur ass wherever your at, i don’t wanna see your ass again’

After 45 minutes to an hour of pacing my shared apartment with Chris my phone finally rang, I picked it up to see it was Chris.

“Where the fuck are you Christopher?” My voice was cold and filled with rage.

“Ma, lis-“ I immediately cut him off “no you’re not gonna ‘ma’ me Christopher.”

“Y/N… listen I-I can explain” he stuttered “I lied.”

“Aren’t you Albert fucking Einstein?” I snapped.

“Y/N will you fucking listen to me, god damn all you do is yap and bitch and groan” he lets out a sigh and I quickly made an ultimatum of let him finish or bitch him out.

“Go on” I forced myself to calm down for a split second because after acting the way I did I knew I needed to at least hear him out.

“So a while ago while you were on that girls trip, I was at Sam’s for his release party right before summer smash in Chicago, I uh I ended up running into this girl from high school, we talked the whole night and we ended up hooking up and she’s- she’s pregnant… Y/N, I love you I really do I always will but, I’m not IN love with you.. uh anymore.. I realized our love wasn’t healthy, it was toxic and I’m sure you can agree” he took a deep breath out like a weight was dropped from his shoulders. My jaw was on the floor. I was astonished by the words coming from his mouth.

“I just need a minute Chris…” my voice broke when I spoke and he and I both knew I was hurt. He made a little ‘tsk’ with his mouth and I hung up. My body hit the floor besides the couch I was uncontrollably ugly crying. My hands were shaky but I picked up the phone to call the one person I knew I could trust, my best friend, Riley.

“Hey bitch what’s up?” She answered.

My voice broke with her, I couldn’t bear to break her happy mood with my awful news. “Chris is in love with a girl from high school it’s been- it happened when- when we went to Hawaii together wi-with Whitney, Mayci, and uh um Taylor, and she’s- she’s fucking pregnant” I immediately started sobbing.

“Okay what the fuck? Maybe you should try religion cause Jesus he’s hard to rely on” in the mist of me sobbing my eyes out I managed to let out a soft giggle.

“Now my tummy hurts, he’s in love with her, but-but um- for- for what’s it’s worth they’d make beautiful babies” my sobs became harder and harder.

“Okay just breathe, I know this is a lot. Have you ever heard of the players curse?” She sounded awfully calm for someone who just heard her boyfriend of 2 years cheated on her and got another girl pregnant.

“N-no?” She laughed. And immediately got excited.

“The players curse is when a man did terrible things to a woman/women and run through them treating them worthlessly. In turn these men normally have daughters, their punishment is that their daughters will experience everything that they did to women.” For some reason this little peace of advice and knowledge helped me a tad.

“So eventually 2043, someone’s gonna hurt their little girl like their dad hurt me? And raise em’ up to a couple of fucking monsters like their mother and they father.” I couldn’t help but cry thinking of someone living my dream I wanted to live with Chris. I wanted to carry his children, I wanted to marry him, all of his dreams involved ME, not her.

“EXACTLY! Keep that mindset girl and you’ll be perfect” she cheered as if I just said I won the lottery.

“When will he pay for what he did to me. I’m fucking broken Ri, I don’t know what the fuck to do” I kept sobbing and sobbing. Chris was the love of my life.

“Never cause that’s just boys being boys girl” she breathed out. “Why don’t we go out tonight and party and get hammered”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea Ri, I don’t think I can handle drinking and stuff” I bit my lip nervously thinking about everything that could go wrong while drinking.

“You know, your probably right” she gasps “oh my god do you remember when me and you got super drunk that first time you and Chris were on a break? You ended up drunk calling him and he had Matt come and pick you up?” Her laughter always lit up my day. No matter how sad I was I was always smile every-time I heard her voice. “So what are you gonna tell Chris?”

“Chris and are done, he’s not in love with me anymore. I’ll always be loved by him but I will not be someone he’s in love with unless things change and even if it does change, I don’t think we’ll ever be in a relationship again” I felt oddly and strangely content with that thought of never having to fight with Chris or wonder if I’m saying the wrong things, speaking wrongly, or vise versa.

“Does he know yall are done? Or is it YOUR done?” She spoke softer hearing my content voice of my current situation with Chris.

“Text him” was the two words she spoke. “He broke up with you over phone, you confirm the breakup over text, and you text me if you need anything girl, I love you, and you know this,”

“Love you too girl,” I sighed and opened my messages I knew I had to do it but couldn’t push myself to do it.

“Chris, though I’ve enjoyed the two years with you, and I can agree it was toxic and should’ve been done a long time ago, however you’re not in love with me I am with you and I will always be. I’ll always be here for you as a friend because essentially that’s what we were before dating. I love you Christopher.”

Sending that message broke me into a million pieces. Now my tummy hurts, he's in love with her But for what it's worth, he's her problem now And she'll stay with him 'Cause she made with him a couple monsters Like their mother and their father, eventually, 2043 Someone's gonna hurt your little girl like he hurt me.

HELLOOOO EVERYONEEEEEEEE!!!!

So sorry for lack of inactivity but I would like to say this is one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written and if you haven’t heard the song please listen now!! I love you all and thank you for the patience!

XOXO

Gabs!

[phyrestartr]

Till Death Do Us Part (Miguel x Reader)

Miguel x Husband!Reader W/C: 9.5k

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

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

-- Till Death Do Us Part --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November 21st  9:56pm call me

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

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

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

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

"Oh my God, just give it up–" 

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

He called you again. 

And this time, you answered. 

Miguel's heart jumped. "(Name)?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel covered his mouth as he smiled.

"You might've just saved us, viejo." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eh. I would.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made for good content, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel frowned. “Gwen–”

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

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

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

…Right?

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

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

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

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

“Gwen.” 

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

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

One minute passed. 

Then two minutes. 

Three minutes.

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

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

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

But someone grabbed her, and yanked her inside.

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

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

Click. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gabriella,” Miguel breathed. 

“Ho-ly shit,” Hobie commented.

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

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

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

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

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

"She's not alone." 

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

(You, the man he betrayed.)

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

You looked so, so tired.

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

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

"Hey, Hobie. Behaving?" 

"Eh. Sometimes." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel nodded. "Yeah, that one." 

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

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

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

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

"No truck?" 

"None." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you came home early. 

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

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

(But you weren't.)

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

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

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

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

Something. Anything. 

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

"How long?" You managed. 

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

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

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

Miguel's smile faded. "What?"

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

"Wait–" 

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

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

You ignored him. Miguel's temper flared. 

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

"Miguel–" 

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

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

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

“We’ll figure this out, I promise.” 

And he believed you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Speaking of--"Where's Gabi?" 

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

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

"Yeah, I thought so, too." 

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

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

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

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

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

“Then come back with us.” 

“Miguel–”

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

“What about food?” You asked quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I never did," he confessed. 

"Then why did you say it?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” she whispered. 

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

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

You sighed, then, and Miguel did too.

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

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

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

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

"Miggs, don't say that. I–" 

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

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

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

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

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

This time, Miguel cried.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then, he spied a locked folder. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Knew you'd like watching 'em back." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Nope.”

“Shit.”

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

"No." 

You chuckled. "Okay." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Till death do us part.”

[isabella-2025]

Don't mess with Summer.

Pair: The USOS X Summer (Triplet) X Roman (Platonic) and Carmelo Hayes X summer (Romantic)

Plot: When Summer finds out her boyfriend Carmelo is cheating on her he is desperate to get her back but her brothers and Roman will always be there to protect her no matter what.

Requested by the lovely @amazinggirlsstuff I hope you enjoy. This is the first time I have written for Carmelo so I'm sorry if it is not the best. Feedback is appreciated by everyone.😊

A/N: I love Kalani no hate to her I just had to have a villain, and she just fit since she is Carmelo's real-life girlfriend. I absolutely love her in the ring, and I cannot wait until she is on the main roster. Also, I am taking requests so if anyone has a request, I will be happy to write it for you just message me or inbox it. Thank you, guys, so much. ❤️

Summer is the USOS twins and Romans cousin. Summer still lives with Jimmy and Jey because they are helping train her. Now summer has been in a relationship with Carmelo Hayes for three years and everything has been great he has been a true gentlemen to her. Summer just got done training when her phone went off Carmelo was calling she answered.

" Hey baby how are you, you still in Florida for the show."

" Yeah I am baby I just wanted to see what my baby girl was doing." Carmelo says.

" Oh, I just got done training with the brothers and Roman it was really intense but I needed it." She says while wiping sweat off of her face with a towel.

" Huh that's good babe but are you sure you really want to do this whole wrestling thing?" Carmelo asks

" Baby how many times do I have to tell you its in my damn blood and I am going to do it. Why are you so against this." She asks getting frustrated

" I'm not saying you can't do it I'm just saying you know what it does to relationship's I mean look at Jey's situation…." Carmelo starts to say but she cuts him off.

" Do not talk about my brothers situation you know nothing about that and me and you are locked in so I don't see a problem."

" Look if we are going to argue about this I am just going to hang up the phone." Carmelo says

" Baby…" Summer starts to say but Carmelo hangs up on her.

She slams the phone down just as her brothers walk in. Jey sits on one side of her and jimmy sits on the other side. Jimmy says

" what did he do now."

Summer runs her hands through her hair and says

" He just keeps asking if I'm sure I want to do this whole wrestling thing its like he doesn't believe in me."

" don't let that Nimrud get to you sis you got it your killer in the ring and on the mic in fact we have a surprise for you." Jey says

Summer looks between Jimmy and Jey as Roman walks in with an envelope which he hands to her.

Summer notices Jimmy and jey smirking while roman is just smiling.

She slowly opens the envelope and see's that it is a contract for NXT Shawn Michaels specifically asked for her to join the roster because he see's great potential in her. Summer drops the envelope and screams.

" AHHHH NO FUCKING WAY."

Roman smiles hugs her and says

" YES FUCKING WAY we tried to tell you, you had that star power girl."

Jimmy and Jey wrap their arms around summer and say

" Well, sister better start packing we going to Florida."

Summer immediately runs upstairs to start packing.

The next morning Summer, Jey, Jimmy and Roman get up around 6 in the morning to take the flight from San Francisco to Florida. They are in the lobby of the airport Summer pulls out her phone and calls Carmelo the phone rings he answers and says

" Morning why are you calling so early?"

" Morning well I am on the way to the Florida with the twins and Roman I got some good news yesterday do you wanna know what it is?" Summer asks

" Of course I wanna know baby." Carmelo says

" Well I am officially….."Summer starts to say but a noise at the other end of the phone stops her.

It was a loud female voice moaning " MMMMM BABY."

Summer immediately turns pale when Carmelo says

" Hey baby I'm sorry I need to go I'll see you when you land my room number is 69 at Marriot I love you."

Summer starts to answer but again he hangs up the phone. Summer clutches her phone to her chest and silently prays that what she heard was just a figment of her imagination. She was so caught up in her thoughts she didn't hear the intercom calling for their flight. Roman walked over to her tapped her on the shoulder and says

" Sister we got to go girl."

Summer turns around and starts to walk to the boarding area when Roman gently grabs her wrist and says

" You have that look what happened was it Carmelo again?"

" um yeah I told him I was coming to Florida and that it was good news but I heard something over the phone." Summer says

Roman stops walking looks down at her and says .

" What did you hear?"

" Nothing really I just thought I heard someone else in the room but I was probably hearing things." Summer says warily.

Roman is about to speak when Jey and Jimmy yell and tell them they are boarding.

Roman and Summer board the plane with the twins. The twins sleep soundly not knowing anything is wrong. Roman keeps glancing at Summer silently making sure she is okay and summer just stares out the window wondering what will await her in Florida.

They arrived in Florida 2 hours ago after a cat nap everyone was just sitting in summers hotel room talking. Summer excuses herself and says

" I will be right back okay."

They all nod at you but Once you are out of site Roman turns to the twins and says

" I need to tell you guys something about your sis."

Jimmy and Jey look at Roman curiously and say

" What is it?"

Roman places his hands om his knees leans forward and said

" It's about her and Carmelo."

" Okay what about it?" Jey asks

" Well you know how yesterday she said Carmelo was asking if she really wanted to do this wrestling thing?" roman says

" Yeah we do why?" Jimmy asks curiously.

" Well he also said something about how this business ruins relationships but this morning Summer called him to tell him about the contract and she heard a female on the phone with Carmelo." Roman says

" WHAT." The twins say at the same time.

" she thinks she's hearing things but honestly i have heard that Carmelo is with Kalani." Roman says

" If that asshole did that to her I swear to God." Jimmy snarls

" Do you think that's where she went?" Jey asks

" Yeah I think so." Roman says

" LETS GO." they all say simultaneously they head out to find Summer.

Summer walked down the hallway to room 69. She stood at the door for a moment took a deep breath and knocked but there was no answer. That is when she noticed that the door was propped open she shouldn't have went in the room but she did. She walked in and saw Carmelo on top of Kalani fucking her, a women he said he was just friends with. Summer without thinking yelled.

"WHAT THE FUCK."

Carmelo freezes and looks at summer wide eyed while Kalani moves off of the bed and quickly puts her clothes back on. Carmelo throws his clothes on and says

" B a a b y your here hi."

summer smirks and says

What the fuck is this shit huh."

Carmelo scratches his head and says

" Well um I um was lonely."

" LONELY really I gave you everything and this is what you do to me." Summer screams

" Look I just needed some company you've been so busy training you haven't had time for me." Carmelo says

" So you go fuck Kalani to fix that." Summer says

" Yes I fucking did okay and I don't regret it." Carmelo smirks walking towards summer.

" so we're done?" Summer asks

" Yeah bitch you and him are done oh and from what I've seen you are shit in the ring." Kalani says as she holds Carmelo's arm.

Summer goes to defend herself but Carmelo grabs her by the arm pulls her outside pushes her up against the wall and snarls.

" Yeah you suck in the ring and in bed the only reason you got that little contract was because of your family name if you didn't have the a naoi name you would be sucking some for a contract you pathetic bitch."

Carmelo's grip on her arm tightens he gets directly in her face and says

" You know I should just kick your ass right now send you back to your brothers show them how weak you are."

Summer tries to scream but Carmelo places his hand over her mouth preventing her from doing so. Summer looked around the corner and see's Roman and her brothers coming.

Roman Jimmy and Jey have walked around for about thirty minutes trying to find summer they turn a corner and what they see makes them see red. Roman is the first to move. He grabs Carmelo by the back of the neck and throws him to the ground. Jimmy joins in and grabs him by the shirt collar and snarls

" You think that's funny putting your hands on my sister huh."

Jimmy punches Carmelo hard over and over again.

Roman goes over to Summer, gently wraps his arms around her and says

" Hey summer are you okay?"

" I will be now that you guys are here." Summer croaks out which causes Roman to hold her tighter.

A few inches away Jey is now beating on Carmelo he snarls

" You think its funny to cheat on my sister (PUNCH) call her a bitch (PUNCH) basically call her a slut (PUNCH) and put your hands on her (PUNCH).

By the time Jey and jimmy are finished beating Carmelo his face is bloody and unrecognizable.

The twins walk over to Summer who is still being held by Roman and they say

" Sis you don't have to worry about him anymore."

Summer smiles stands up and brings jimmy, Jey and roman in for a group hug they each give her a little kiss on the forehead.

The group begins to walk away but Kalani ran out to attend to Carmelo and she screams.

" you bastards I will get you."

summer turns to the twins and roman smirks and says

" I'll be right back."

Summer casually walks over to Kalani and before Kalani even realizes what's happening Summer gives her a stiff superkick grabs her by the hair smirks and says

" Who's the bitch now."

Summer walks back over to the twins and roman they smirk and give her a high five they all wrap their arms around each other and walk back to the hotel room feeling happy with the justice they just dealt.

The End.

@trippinsorrows @acute-crashout-jeyuso @empressdede @punksyeet @uceyliyahh @femdisa @mytribalnightmare @eringobragh420 @southerngirl41 @officialeve24 @usoinked @bossbitch-22 @madhatterbri @purplementalitybluebird @bloodlinemadness @holycollectivekitty @jstarr86 @livslunaticdamiansdisciple18 @duhitzkay380 @bloodlinesbabe93 @theusotwinzcom @thebigredmonster @chynagirl13 @mamis-girly @transparentphantomface @amazinggirlsstuff @spiicii @mselenalovebug @sharmelasworld @moxley99

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | feb 29 address | words 1881

hi, so this one is so fucking long, i don’t even know how it happened. anyways, hope you’ll enjoy it :3

first part | previous part

Reg

So

Will you be there tonight?

James looked at the message he received almost half an hour ago and for the hundredth time deleted his response.

‘Of course I’ll be there’ sounded too eager. ‘Yeah’ was out of question with it being too dry. ‘I’ll try to make it’ was just mean, like when you have a big event at school and your parents say that exact line, and you just feel like shit. So he sat there, on his couch, contemplating how to answer the man he apparently fancies. He thought the crush went away with them going separate ways after school, but oh well. With just one dinner, all the feelings came back, making him feel like a teenager again.

He deleted another answer when Regulus texted him again.

Reg

You know I can see you typing then changing your mind over and over again, right?

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was his chance to keep this from getting any weirder.

James

yeah i know sorry about that

and answering the first question yes ill be there

:)

With that, he threw his phone as far away from himself as he could and went to have a crisis while taking a shower. And don’t get him wrong - he really wanted to be there, to see the art Regulus makes, but at the same time he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. He liked Reg, he wanted to get to know him again after all those years they haven’t talked. And yet, he was still afraid he would fuck it up somehow.

“No you won’t” he said to his reflection in the mirror. “You won’t, just pull yourself together. And don’t act weird, just… be who you are. If he doesn’t like it, back off.”

After that little motivational talk, James started to get ready properly. He did his skincare routine, tried to (and failed) tame the nest on his head, also known as hair, and went to the closet to find something suitable for the occasion. How does one even dress for opening?

Having no better option, James decided to do the most stupid thing he could do.

“What are you wearing tonight?” he asked without any greeting. On the other side he heard the most feral laughter ever and just groaned at it. “It’s not funny, I really don’t know!” the laughter became even more hysterical, so James just stood in the middle of his closet, waiting for Sirius to calm down.

“Oh god, this is too good” his best friend chuckled a little breathlessly. “Are you trying to impress my brother or what?”

“I’m not trying to impress anyone, I just… what should I wear? To not look like an idiot?” more giggles from Sirius.

“Yeah, well, me and Moony are going in our usual clothes, so maybe something in between?”

“You mean I should go as a slutty grandpa?” James grumbled. His bestie just barked another laugh at that.

“Yes, exactly! Hope I helped, gotta go, see you there” and the call ended.

It actually did help, to his surprise. He put on a maroon turtleneck, paired it with suit trousers and his favourite red converse. The entire outfit, although simple, seemed to emphasise his muscles, giving the exact result James was aiming for. He put three golden hoops in his ear and finally felt ready.

Grabbing the phone from the armchair it landed on, James check if Regulus sent any new messages - he did.

Reg

I’m glad.

Don’t overdress, it’s a casual event, nothing fancy.

Do you know where to go?

Should I send you the address?

?

Hello?

Are you alive?

James, it’s been more than an hour, are you alright?

James smiled at all of this, quickly replying with ‘yes everythings good the shower took longer than it should pls send the address’.

***

He arrived at a small local art gallery, where the opening took place. As soon as James got out of his car, Remus and Sirius spotted him, practically running in his direction. The shorter man, dressed in a silk shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, and tight jeans (all black, of course), jumped into his arms, screaming excitedly, like he hasn’t seen him in a while (since yesterday). From behind, Sirius’ fiancé rolled his eyes, smirking at their antics.

“Fancy seeing you here, Prongs” Remus said cheekily, when the long-haired man came to his side. It was James’ turn to roll his eyes.

“Are we coming in or are we just gonna stand here and freeze?” Sirius asked, snuggling closer to Remus.

“You should’ve dressed accordingly to the weather. I’m feeling petty so - Moony, would you mind giving me a fag?” James chirped sweetly, batting his lashes at the taller man.

He didn’t give him the cigarette, what’s with his shivering partner, so they just walked in to the gallery.

James spotted Regulus immediately. He was wearing a dark green sweater with a white collar sticking out from under it, black trousers and low Docs. He looked innocent and hot at the same time. He could see the younger man noticing him, too, when his lips turned into a little smile.

“Hi, Little Star” Reg snorted at that, and that was all he had to do to get himself a wide grin from James.

“Hello, James. Thank you for coming” came the slightly amused answer. They scanned each other for a second. From up close Regulus looked even better, James thought.

“You look good, I mean, like, very good” Reg chuckled softly at that and the other man melted a little.

“You look good, too” younger man replied, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

Their moment was interrupted by Sirius barging in, saying how proud of his little brother he is, while ruffling Reg’s hair. Even though he didn’t like it, Regulus hasn’t voiced his displeasure. It was nice of him, really.

Not long after, some professor welcomed everyone from the middle of the room, talking about all the hard work his students put into this exhibition and how glad he was to see so many people coming to appreciate that work. Some ovations. Then they were free to admire the pieces. Most of them were paintings, but there were also sculptures and some photographs.

The theme of the exhibition was ‘love’, so the students presented how they perceived it - some in a cute way, whit elderly couples sitting on a bench or some places they loved, but there were also darker ones, presenting the topic as suffocating or painful. James felt sorry for all those people who suffered because of something that should have been beautiful.

When they finally reached Regulus’ pieces James felt something warm crawling inside his chest. He didn’t immediately understand them, since Reg created abstract art, but the longer he looked the more he could see. On the first one there were spots of paint that must’ve been two cuddled figures in the dark place, surrounded by a little light, just around them, like a halo. James thought it must represent how Regulus felt about his brother, what was confirmed as he spotted Sirius’ eyes glistening in the bright lights of the gallery.

The second one was brighter, like it was some kind of meadow maybe? There also were smudges of paint in different colours - some of them lighter others darker. Those probably were Regulus’ friends and James had an urge to comment on that one.

“That’s so cute. They must’ve loved it so much” he said, looking down at Regulus. “Where are they, by the way?”

“They will come later, when there’s not so many people so we can really discuss others works” the younger man replied simply. “We’ll probably just end up laughing at them, really” he added with a shrug.

At that James pretend to be outraged, gasping and putting a hand to his chest.

“Oh! Am I not worthy of laughing at other people’s art with you? Tell me how can I be granted this privilege, I’ll do anything!” He kept up his act, grabbing Regulus by the shoulders, bending his knees like a sufferer begging for water.

The younger of Black brother looked at him, trying real hard to not look amused, but his eyes were giving him away.

“You’re pathetic” he said, not even a little bite to it. To be honest he sounded a little like he was enjoying James’ antics.

“Yet, you like me so much you managed to rob your own brother of my number” James said it like he was plotting something. “And you wanted to rob me of my time, the audacity.”

“Please stop” the shorter man buried his face in his hands. “Don’t mention it ever again” he added, a little muffled by the hands. He had really nice hands, James noticed.

“Oh, I will not stop till the day I die.”

They moved to the third piece and- oh. James might not be the brightest person alive, but he knew what was on the last painting. It was similar to the other two they saw earlier, smudges of paint in different shades creating two figures. The figures were hugging, not like the first ones, but more like lovers trying to become one. One person was rather pale, contrasting with the other who looked tanned. Their hair was black and deep brown, respectively.

James looked at it with awe, felt the butterflies waking up in his stomach and flying freely all over his body. He looked at Regulus, but the other man hasn’t met his eyes, staring straight ahead at his work. James noticed he turned a pretty shade of reddish pink on every bit of his face. His own lips turned into a big fucking grin. He wanted to reach out, touch Regulus, hug him, anything really.

Unfortunately, from behind him came Sirius’ gasp and then excited “Oh my god, Reggie, you painted me and Moony? Oh, that is so lovely, can I have it later?”

James, Remus and Regulus looked at the man at the same time, each one with a deep frown, not believing how delusional Sirius is. As if they shared a brain cell, all three of them nodded in agreement to not lead him astray.

Regulus cleared his throat, and turning to his brother he said “Yes, that’s you and Remus, and no, you cannot take it.”

As the older turned to stare daggers at the younger, they just started bickering about who should have the painting, Remus and James looking at them with amusement.

After some time Regulus’ friends came and the three older man ushered to exit so the younger guys could have fun together. Just before they left, James approached Regulus one last time, cheeky smile on his lips.

“Sirius and Moony, huh?” it earned him an eye roll and a sheepish ‘shut up’. He just smiled wider and leaned down to whisper in Reg’s ear, feeling the black-haired man’s breath hitching “Text me when you get home.”

With that he walked backwards in the general direction of the exit, still looking at Regulus who looked positively stunned. James winked at him and Reg, after waking from the haze, flipped him off. James just chuckled at that loudly, turning to the door.

[rose-l-20]

Beast Boy present his new special suit (it vanishes during transformations and returns in human form, also can reduce to inconspicuous fingerless glove form) to reader, who is curious about it and explores it from all sites. Reader asks him many questions about suit, how it works, fits and feels. Gives ideas for improvements, like full-finger gloves (with retractable claws on fingertips, perhaps also claws on toe tips) and head mask (eye lenses to protect eyes from flashbangs and hypnosis, ear plugs that filter certain sounds out to avoid distraction through shrill sounds, nostril plugs to prevent distraction by pungent smells, mouthguard to avert teeth damage while fighting in human form, …).

Supportive Girlfriend ~ Boyfriend!Garfield Logan x Girlfriend!Reader

FIRST INBOX REQUEST! Also who knew giving your blog a refresh would lead to getting peoples attention! I should have done it a long time ago😂

Thank you lovely Anon for this request! I have been wanting to write a fic about Gar for a while, I just had no ideas!

SUMMARY: see request above ⬆️

WARNINGS: Mild mentions of nudity caused by supernatural abilities, generally fluffy, mild consensual body touching by reader, talk of ones body, typical couple moments/language, pet names, reader wearing a bathing suit while tanning.

The breeze was light and soothing against the hot San Francisco sun. The only noise that can be heard from the roof top deck of the Titians Tower is "Chiquita" by ABBA playing at a soft volume, and the crinkle of turning pages.

You were engrossed in your book, so engrossed that the hum of your phone going off went completely ignored. It took you going to change the song to realize your green-hair-boyfriend had left you a handful of messages, all in full capital letters, repeating your name and pet names to just "COME TO THE TRAINING ROOM RIGHT NOW!". Alarmed at first, you threw your bookmark into the book and placed it into your bag, along with your other belongings. The Black robe that matched your Bathing suit was thrown on and tied quickly.

As soon as the elevator hit the correct floor, you rushed into the training room. "What is going on?! is anyone hurt?!" you exclaimed with worry. You scan the room, with the mussel memory you accumulated over hours of training and missions.

"Babe you're here! I am sorry for worrying you, I'm so fucking hyped right now OH MY GOD!" Gar rambled. But before you could ask any questions. or even think of one, you hand was grabbed and pulled to a table close to the Hero costume side. Your eyes instinctually looking at yours before looking down at the table. "Okay, hold on let me get these gloves on!" he started putting on the left one, "you're going to LOVE this!". You were beyond confused at this point but kept silent.

"Ready babe?" Garfield asked, to which you nodded with a confused face. Gar balled his fists, flicked his wrists and the gloves expanded creating sleeves, shirt, pants and boots to finish it off. A lightbulb went off in your head, understanding what was going on.

You let out a gasp, "wait! Is this the suit you were talking about?!". Gar laughed, happy that you were on the same level of excitement. "YES! what do you think?!"

Walking around his body in a circle. you ran your hands over the soft and slightly textured fabric, feeling the hidden, high-tech amour that rendered you impressed. The suit looked seamless on his body. Hugging his toned, slightly slender body. You couldn't help the warmth that spread through your cheeks as a light blush appeared.

Let's just say the suit wasn't the only thing that looked good, it didn’t compare to how gorgeous and handsome he was.

Your mouth moved before you could even process your thoughts. Question after question spilled out, like you couldn't decide on which one to ask first. Your Beast Boy answered all of them, explaining each feature it currently possessed.

"One of the many benefits it has is that it stores all the DNA of my current animals, so I won't be left naked after we fight a bad guy." He also listed other elements like sound-proof soles, so it makes stealth missions so much easier to accomplish. "Gar-Gar, I am so proud of you! no wonder you insisted on waiting another 2 months to show me. Totally worth the wait." Your arms wrapped around his waist, giving him a warm and tight embrace, which was swiftly reciprocated.

"Do you have any recommendations? I am open to anything!" Gar rested his head on top of yours, and after a small conversation it was agreed to meet in your room to eat snacks, and discuss your recommendations.

-

An hour and a half later you were both in pajamas, snacks scattered across your bed. In both of your laps rests your Titians supplied iPads, his for writing things down and yours for research.

"Okay, it's been enough time" You start, placing a taki into you mouth. "lets go through them to make sure they make sense"

"Agreed. So we've got: full-finger gloves for added protection and have the ability for my claw animals claws to come out.” Garfield listed, taking bites of his chocolate bar. “Hidden pockets to hold emergency items such as goggles, medical equipment ect ect. A panel on my left inner arm that reads my heart rate, and energy levels. A mask that I can use when in rooms with harsh chemicals, as well as protection when I can’t shape shift. Have we got them all?”

You responded with nods and an occasional ‘mhm’, going through the tabs you had open in Google. “You missed the belt with the micro bombs, and smoke bombs” you showed him the tab you had open to make sure he knew everything he needed to write down.

“Oh you’re correct! Thank you my love” he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him, placing a soft but adoring kiss on your lips. You happily returned the kiss. “I love you” Gar moved to sit next to you, and your body moulded into the side of his body. You blushed again, “I love you MORE!”

“Want to watch ‘The holiday’?” You asked with a mischievous grin, knowing his exact response.

“AGAIN? We watched it 2 days ago!”

You both laughed happy to be together, and not have to worry about a mission. You put the movie on and continued to eat your snacks. The movie played, but that didn’t stop you guys from having small conversations, or making each other laugh.

You “annoyed” him with quoting every line, to which he threatened to change the movie. You grabbed the remote with a “try me” face, he started tickling your sides making you weak. He snatched the remote from your hand, and started running around the room. Stopping quickly he changed the movie to a random one, then ran out of your room with an evil cackle.

“GARFIELD FUCKING LOGAN! GET BACK HERE WITH MY REMOTE! I WILL NOT MISS THE SCENE, WHERE AMANDA FINALLY REALISES SHES IN LOVE WITH GRAHAM!”

As you ran down the hall, Jason was walking by. Most likely headed to his room. You zoomed past him, he looked confused before his brain put two and two together. “Same old shit, different fucking day” he mumbled while rolling his eyes.

The only sound that could be heard was the fading laughter of the cute couple and their loud and heavy footsteps.

All was normal, all was well.

[this-sapphic-paradise]

yes yes a million times yes to if anyone would want a part 2 of the charlotte/nat spanking ask

Part 2/3

The goes by in a blur for Nat as the only thing she can think of is her meeting with professor Matthews and the list she promised to send in the evening. Nat is short with everybody who crosses her way that day, but can you blame her? Would you be all happy and chill if your future was in the hands of a ridiculously sexy older woman who wants to take advantage of you?

Okay... maybe some people wouldn't be so pressed in they were in Nat's shoes...

After she gets to her dorm, Nat grabs a beer and throws herself in bed and doom scrolls to try and numb her brain as much as possible while she waits for the message.

Around 8 p.m., a notification pops up on the top of her screen. A message. From an unknown number.

"Fuck." Nat hates how her heart is already racing. She sits up and opens the message.

Hello darling,

As promised, here is the list of punishments I find most appealing.

Spanking;

Paddling;

Caning;

Flogging;

Hot wax;

Figging;

However, if your pain tolerance is very low, there are suitable alternatives:

Maintaining a (stress) position of my choice;

Writing the same sentence as many times as I desire;

Performing tasks for my amusement;

Being edged;

Having degrading things written on your body.

You may message me at any point during the weekend if you wish to discuss the punishments or your limits.

Sincerely,

LM

"Jesus..." Natalie breathes out, feeling her cheeks burning just from reading the text. I don't even know what some of this stuff is! She thinks, opening her browser to do some much needed research.

To say Nat fell down a rabbit hole would be an understatement. By the time she feels sufficiently informed about BDSM, punishments, safewords, aftercare and all that, it is already past midnight.

Should I message her? She thinks, wondering if Charlotte will be upset about the late hour. But she did say I could reach out at any point... Bitting her lip, Nat decides to go for it.

Hi professor. Sorry about the late hour, but I have some questions. Would you provide aftercare?

It takes less than five minutes for Nat to get a reply.

Yes. Not only it is the responsible thing to do, but it is also a moment a deeply appreciate.

Okay. Cool. What if we try something and I don't like it? I mean, what if it feels really bad?

Then you will use a safeword of your choosing, we will stop and recalibrate, meaning, we will either find a different way to continue, or we will stop completely for that day. Your well-being will always come first.

Nat smiles at her phone, At least she seems to practice this shit safely. Then, to her surprise, a new message comes in.

I gather you did some research. Did anything on my least catch your attention? Is anything already a hard no?

Caning and flogging are too harsh. Plus, the type of bruises they leave would make going to work and doing my job excruciating. I can't risk it.

Understandable, darling. No caning or flogging, then.

For someone who was so brazen as to propose this type of arrangement with a student, Charlotte seems to be very understanding. It helps ease Nat's mind somewhat.

Biting her lip, she writes–

Have you imagined yourself punishing me?

Yes, darling.

What were you doing to me?

I had you bent over my desk and I was fucking you slowly with a strap. Every answer you got right, I'd speed up or thrust deeper. But every wrong answer would make me slow down or stop.

Charlotte...

Yes?

There's no denying how fucking wet Natalie gets just by reading the messages. It makes it easier for her to accept the fact that she is going to agree to this fucked up arrangement, but... Since she's already in a fucked up situation, why not make the most out of it?

If I take my punishment really well, will you reward me?

Look who's already practicing being a good girl for me.

Yes, sweetheart. If you behave, I'll give a very nice reward.

Natalie squeezes her thighs, humiliation washing over her as she realizes just how ready she is to be professor Matthews's good girl.

Okay, professor. I agree to your compromise. See you on Tuesday?

Good girl. See you then. Don't forget to read the material.

[fanfictionstuff]

Amaimon x Student (18)

It's all smut, Jealous Amaimon, but also soft Amaimon at the end.

“I’m sorry!” you groan, struggling against the bindings that secure your arms above your head on Amaimon’s bed. The demon king is positioned between your legs, gazing at you with an impassive expression. His fingers curl inside you, hitting a spot that makes your hips lift off the bed. Your fists clench, and you feel an intense desire to hold the damned king. “No other man can make you feel this way,” he says casually, using his thumb to rub against your clit. “You know that, right?”

“Yes!”

“So, why were you even entertaining the thought of another man?”

“I wasn’t!”

“Yet, you were going to have dinner with that man?”

"I just wanted to explain that I already have a boyfriend, especially since Mom invited him here to spend Christmas with me," you whine as Amaimon removes his fingers, tapping them against your thigh while he listens to your excuses. “I’m sorry, please, Amaimon.” 

The demon king remains unmoved by your apologies. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry," he mocks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I should just leave you here like this.” His eyes roam your exposed body. "In fact, I think I will. Goodbye.”

Your eyes widen as his words sink in. “You can’t!”

“I can.” He shrugs, slipping the two fingers that had just been in you into his mouth, then stands to leave.

“Please don’t leave, I need you.”

His eyes roam over your body, taking in all the bruises that mar your hips and thighs. “I had intended to be gentle with you this week because I was clearly too rough before. Give your body time to heal," he says, settling back down on the bed, his hand hovering over the dark bruise on your hip. “Yet, how am I supposed to be gentle with you, when you’re planning to entertain other men?” While he speaks, he presses on the bruise, causing a sharp pain to envelop the area.

“I wasn’t going to entertain another man.”

“Yes, you were.”

“Not like that!”

He increases the pressure. “I didn’t say you were planning to entertain him like that. If you had intended to, I would have already killed him." He stares at you for a moment. “You don’t want me to leave? Okay. You have two options.”

“Two options?”

Amaimon nods, raising a single finger. “Option one: you call him and tell him to leave you alone, never to contact you again, and I will treat you gently." He lifts another finger. “Option two: you wait to tell him in person, and I will leave you tied up here.” 

“Leave me tied here?”

He nods once more. "Yes, of course. That might mean you miss the time to meet him in person if you’re still tied to my bed.” Despite the threat, he almost looks bored. You don’t have the time to consider your options thoroughly; Amaimon stands at the side of the bed and strips his clothes. “W-what are you doing?” you stammer as he climbs over you, reaching for the cloth he used to bind your arms above your head. “We both know what choice you’re going to make. Call him. Now.”

You rub your slightly sore wrist and take the phone Amaimon holds out to you; quickly, you open the message thread with your mother, where she sent you the man’s phone number. “Call.” Amaimon situates himself between your legs as he gives you the order. You aren’t paying too much attention to Amaimon’s movements, too focused on finding the number and trying to think of what to say that won’t make you sound like a complete bitch but will appease Amaimon and show him that you don’t want anyone else. The phone rings and you’re replaying the lines you’ve chosen over and over again in your head while waiting for the man to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi-oh!” Amaimon enters you the moment the man answers the phone. You gasp at the sensation, and the demon king smirks at your reactions. You slap your hand over your mouth as your eyes widen in surprise.

"Miss ______?" The man's voice interrupts as Amaimon begins to gently rock his hips against yours, each movement slow and deliberate. A strange noise escapes your mouth, prompting concern in the man's voice. “Are you okay?” Amaimon continues with his slow, torturous pace and removes your hand from your mouth. "He's speaking to you, _____. Are you okay?"

Despite the shaky tone in your voice, you manage to reply, "I'm fine." You take a deep breath and continue, "I know my mom made plans for us, but I have to be honest with you. I already have a boyfriend-"Amaimon thrusts deep and fast, leaving you gasping for air. You bite your lip as you try to understand what the demon king wants from you. He leans down and whispers in your ear, making sure the man can’t hear. "Didn't you tell your mother that you want to marry me? If we're getting married, what does that make me to you, pet?" He wants you to call him your fiancé. “I mean fiancé, I’m engaged to someone. I just hadn’t had time to speak to my mom yet.”

The man doesn’t reply for a good minute, so Amaimon goes back to focus on thrusting into you, lifting your left leg to wrap over his hip. Continuing the torturously slow pace. “______, are you okay?” The stranger whispers the question softly. “Y-yes, I’m sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind. I’m really sorry for wasting your time. Please don’t bother contacting me later; I’m not interested.” 

Amaimon ends the call and tosses the phone across the room before intertwining his fingers with yours beside your head. Unbothered that you weren’t as harsh as he would’ve liked you to have been when speaking to that man. He whispers to you, "You are my perfect pet." He presses his forehead against yours as he gradually increases his pace, being careful not to leave any new marks or worsen the ones already there. Even though you look stunning adorned with his marks, they must be healed before your parents arrive. Ambrosius Faust will appear to be the perfect fiancé in their eyes. And by the time they discover the truth, it will be too late. Amaimon lets go of one of your hands to reach down between your bodies, giving your clit just the right amount of stimulation. "Cum for me, my pet. Only for me."