#I got her back for 17 whole fucking hours

[gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes]

I never share these RL things, but I'm literally at the point I don't care. My sister died on Saturday from ovarian cancer when we thought she had months left. My brother-in-law is struggling to even get her ashes home. We're helping him out, but maybe someone out there knows someone else with extra change they need to throw at a good cause.

https://gofund.me/0127dcc7

[fleuraimer]

Overstimulation blurb pls

I love how Harry is so obsessed with her pussy so he keeps on making her cum / squirt but still not getting satisfied despite how overwhelming and teary eyed she got after 5-6 times she orgasms

sorry for the wait bestie 😭 i hope you like it!! 🩷

wc: 665

cw: smut, minors dni, 17+, overstimulation play, baldrry (he's so hot idc idc idc), and more. not proofread.

Harry has been sucking Y/N’s clit for almost two hours now. The only reason she’s consciously aware of that fact is because of his phone, bright blue light illuminating their bedroom ceiling, blurry numbers scribing one hour and fifty-two fucking minutes. His favorite torture device—a sage bullet vibrator that should be criminal for having so many settings—sits, unused, beside her shaky form.

He set a stopwatch. For what reason, she does not know. She honestly doesn’t have the ability to, though. It’s actually kind of hilarious to expect anything from her expect incoherent huffs and puffs, and garbled curses.

But Harry just loves to laugh.

“C’mon, Sweetheart, talk to me; tell Daddy how it feels.” His palms press down on the backs of her thighs, keeping her spread for him—he’s made her smear her messy pussy open for him too, though, for extra measure—her poor clit exposed to every sensation. The AC turning on makes her twitch, let alone Harry’s own hot breath.

“S’g—ood, Daddy,” she gasps, her eyes as puffy and red as her sensitive cunt. “Feels—” She mewls through the rest of her sentence, his tongue back on her button, laving over it, petting softly with the very tip.

It tickles a part of Y/N’s belly that sets the rest of her body on fire. How something so faint, so delicate, can be so utterly disgusting at the same time makes her head spin, in the best way.

Her head falls back on the mattress with a subtle bounce, her chest arching away for the sheets when his lips wrap teasingly her clit, toes wiggling as her feet flail, precious cries involuntarily slipping from her pouty lips.

“H,” she soughs, her hands abandoning post and finding the back of his head, nails scratching through the soft peach fuzz from the nape of his neck to the top of his head. Her head lolls around until her eyes find Harry’s once more, his cheeky, practically delighted smile felt before his slick mouth and pearly teeth (and sinful tongue) register through her vision.

Her brows draw to the center of her forehead as he flattens his tongue against the whole of her, the slippery tip dipping into her weepy opening before working back up to swirl over her swollen button until he feels her twitch, then starting all over again.

He repeats the action enough times for Y/N to lose count, her hearing staticky, vision blurry, thoughts nonexistent. It would explain why she doesn’t notice Harry’s hand falling from the back of her thigh, explain why when he starts fucking his tongue into her neglected hole, she whines at the loss of contact to her clit, fumbling to pull back on the hood with one hand as the other remains petting over his soft, clipped hair, as if to say Don’t forget about your pretty button, Daddy.

Though, forgotten is the last thing her poor overused clit is. It’s probably at the forefront of Harry’s mind, as a matter of fact, if the sudden touch of silicone to his pretty button is anything to go off of. Not to mention, the resounding buzz that quite literally rocks through her entire system.

Her soft cries are no longer soft. They’re loud and whiny, some guttural, but most sad little uh uh uh’s that get slurred through babbled curses. She doesn’t think of how pathetic she might look to Harry right now, she can’t (a fact that she’s wildly grateful for). All she can fucking think about is his tongue stuffed in her drippy pussy and the toy pressed directly on her clit.

She whimpers when he starts moving the vibrator from side to side, pointlessly smearing her arousal and his spit into her throbbing cunt. It fucking hurts.

“Stop with the crocodile tears, Princess,” Harry mumbles into her, scowling at the sight of her wet cheeks. “Cut it out before Daddy gives y’somethin’ to really cry ‘bout.”

He just had all the jokes today, didn’t he?

[jsluvtzu]

mind games

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: when her actions don't match up with her feelings, and you're caught in the middle

cw: college!au, angsty, edgy, emo, MEAN!!!!sana, (sana is very very mean), smut, cursing, degradation, mentions of bullying/humiliation, again mean!sana!! men dni

wc: 3.3k

a/n: this is inspired by the recent fanmeeting pics w sana and that damn choker

the walk to your usual 9 am intro to psychology class was colder than usual. the sun was out, but inside, you felt as if it hadn't shined in years. only one thing was clouding your mind. minatozaki fucking sana. mean girl. bully. bitch. you hated her guts from the inside out. everything about her made you physically recoil in disgust. just the mention of her alone was enough to make you clench your fist.

the hatred you had for her may seem unreasonable for someone who doesn't know what you have to deal with on a daily basis. any normal person would call you crazy, or dramatic. but you had every right to feel this way about her.

"hey there pretty thing," you heard her disgustingly familiar voice a couple steps behind you. "who let you walk out the house like that? needa have a talk with them.." you squeezed your lips shut, ignoring sana's words and just kept walking. you could hear her friends, nayeon and chaeyoung, giggling like a pack of hyenas and saying something along the lines of "fuckin' slut" and "she's just asking for it wearing that short ass skirt".

you forcefully tugged the ends of your skirt down and walked through your classroom door, not even bothering to look back at them.

as you took your usual seat towards the front row, you heard them enter the lecture hall and the stench of weed immediately filled your nose, making you furrow your eyebrows and hold your breath. sana throws her stuff down right next to you, plopping down into the seat with her minions right by her side. "hi y/nnn," her arm was propped up on the desk, hand resting under her chin, facing you, batting her eyelashes with the widest smile on her pretty ugly face.

you looked straight ahead, ignoring her and just got your laptop ready for the day's lecture. sana attempted to move into your line of sight, getting uncomfortably close to you in the process. you tried your hardest not to react, but it was especially difficult when she smelled this strong and looked this good. you would never admit the last part though. "you fuckin' deaf or something? i said hi, don't be rude." you side eyed her and went back to logging into your note taking app. sana scoffed annoyedly and backed away to lean in her seat, slightly manspreading. fuck she's so attractive when she sits like that. you quickly shook your head to clear those forbidden thoughts from your mind.

getting through the hour long lecture felt like three days with sana being beside you the whole time. she was wearing a short sleeve shirt and you could see how decorated her arms were with tattoos littered on every empty patch of skin. her silver rings around her slender fingers fit her perfectly and complimented her skin tone so well. her hair was the perfect shade of brown and the right amount of wavy. her f- wait. what are you doing? you're supposed to hate sana. if you really hate her so much, why do you notice the way her nose scrunches when she laughs? you shouldn't feel your heart beat this fast around somebody that you claim to hate. fuck.

finally, the lecture was over and you wasted no time gathering your things to leave. you rushed out the door and checked the time on your phone. “11:17 AM”. you had enough time before your next class to stop by the dining hall for a quick lunch.

as you sat down at a table by yourself, you accidentally dropped one of your items on the floor and bent down to pick it up. that's when you heard whistling and laughter approaching you.

"is this table taken?" sana laughed slightly, asking you rhetorically. nayeon was very obviously checking you out and basically eye fucked you in the middle of the dining hall. chaeyoung took a bite out of her apple and kept looking you up and down. before you could even answer, the three of them sat in the remaining empty seats at the table, leaving you one for yourself.

"so, y/n. i need a favor. the professor is letting me make up a project to bring my grade up, buttt i have no idea what the fuck i'm doing. care to help me out?" sana looked at you intently, placing her hand on your knee, bare skin exposed to her cold touch.

"why the fuck would i help you, sana?" you were completely furious at this point. not only did she ruin the one peaceful moment you had alone, she also had the audacity to come to you for help, when all she's ever done for you is make your life worse?

sana looked at you in disbelief, your aggressive tone shocking her. she cocked her head to the side with a clenched jaw. "because if you don't, i'll post that video of your bare ass for everyone, and i mean everyone to see. you wouldn't want that to happen, would you sweet thing?" her voice was infuriating you just as much as it was entrancing you. sana now had a confident smirk displayed across her face. she knows your weak spot.

you gulped and breathed out shakily, remembering that dumb fucking mistake you made in high school when you sent your ex girlfriend your nudes, thinking you could trust her. she ended up sending it to a big group chat and of course, sana got ahold of it. she's been using that video as blackmail against you ever since, making you obey her every command to keep your dignity.

"fuck you.", was your way of agreeing to another one of sana's orders. "aww, you wish you could." the three of them bursted out laughing and stood up to leave one by one. "meet me in my dorm around 7, yeah? fourth door on the second floor." sana ran her hand through your hair and twirled a couple strands between her fingers. "would hate for such a pretty girl to get publicly humiliated if she doesn't show up." she gave you one last devious smile before grabbing her bag and joining nayeon and chaeyoung.

-

you regretted every step you took as you neared sana’s dorm room door. your feet felt abnormally heavy and you were just dragging your body there out of obligation.

with a deep sigh, you knocked on her door and gripped your textbook tight. when sana opened the door, your heartbeat was beating so loud, you swore you could hear it pounding against your eardrums. her hair was up in a messy bun with loose strands and flyaways hanging out. she had on an oversized, faded and torn “misfits” shirt, with baggy boy shorts on to top it off.

sana chuckled and took in your obviously stressed demeanor, “you knew better than to not come huh?” she stepped back to let you in and you could hear the loud music she had playing.

her room lingered of a vanilla candle mixed with, you guessed it, weed. how she managed to not get caught by an RA was beyond you. her walls were filled with posters from various rock bands and vinyl cds that were aesthetically placed in color order. her bed was messy and clothes were all over the floor. her roommate’s side of the room was surprisingly tidy compared to hers.

as you stood in the middle of the room, awkwardly observing her decor, sana snapped you out of your trance. “you here to help me, or just look stupid?” you cleared your throat and shuffled over to sana’s desk, placing down your textbook and setting your backpack on the floor.

you shrunk under sana’s gaze. cautious of every move you made. you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie nervously as you felt her eyes piercing into you. “why are you acting like that? i don’t bite.” sana was genuinely confused, she doesn’t even realize how she treats you. “look, can we just get this over with?” you avoided eye contact with sana at all costs and stared at the ground, too nervous to look at her directly.

“alright, small talk over i guess.. ‘s what i get for tryna be nice to your loser ass.” sana climbed onto her bed with a sulky attitude, sitting near the edge with her legs crossed. you pulled out the chair from under the desk and sat down, flipping open your textbook to chapter 3.

“the project is about understanding human attraction, so we have to do a little experiment and record the results.” as you said it outloud, you realized what you just got yourself into. working on an attraction project with the girl you hated yourself for being attracted to.

“okay, list 5 things you find most appealing when you first look at your partner.”

“the fuck kinda project is this? i’m not doing this.”

“sana. don’t be dumb right now, you’re already failing the course.” sana was dumbfounded at your bluntness.

“i can’t list anything if there’s nothing i find appealing about you.”

“well then make something up.”

sana scoffed at the ridiculousness of the project and rolled her eyes, cursing herself for even asking for your help.

“i can’t even do that, honestly, i would throw up tryna say something nice about you.”

you were fed up with her at that point and stood up slamming your pen down, “then can you just shut the fuck up? for once? if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say shit at all. i’m always helping you out and all you do is fucking ruin it.” you talked with your hands flailing around everywhere in frustration. you didn’t mean to raise your voice like that, but the pent up anger you had built up finally released.

“ ‘fuck is your problem, y/n? i-“ sana gets down from her bed to stand face to face with you, “you’re the fucking problem, sana. it’s always been you. you’re always finding every way to ruin my life. make me feel bad about myself. why can’t you just leave me alone? what have i ever done to you to deserve being treated like this?” sana was close enough for you to stab your finger into her chest, emphasizing every sentence.

her taller figure towered over you as she looked down at you with a quirked eyebrow and her lips slightly parted. she had nothing to say back to that. your breathing was shallow and you felt relieved for telling her off to her face. something you’ve wanted to do for years.

but the tension in the room was growing and the both of you stared at each other in a loud silence.

you slowly started backing away from sana when you felt like the pressure in the atmosphere was crushing your lungs. sana stopped you with a grab to your wrist, pulling you, no, yanking you, towards her, crashing her lips onto yours hard enough to leave bruises.

that’s when everything in your world stopped. the time froze and things went quiet. you no longer heard the music that was playing in the background, just silence.

you peeled yourself away from sana’s intense grip, appalled at what just happened. “ what.. what are you doing, san-“

before you could even finish your sentence, she grabbed you again, this time squeezing your face with both of her hands. her big hands. you wondered how far they could go inside y-

you braced yourself and placed your hands on the sides of her hips to keep yourself stable. sana was controlling the pace of the kiss now, biting your bottom lip and swiping her tongue along it only to force herself inside of your mouth, tasting you.

sana pulled away with a ‘pop’ sound, your face still held in her hands.

“i’m in love with you.” her face was serious, an expression that was new to you since all you’ve ever seen her be is the total opposite.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, comprehending what she just said and replaying it in your mind over and over.

“i’ve always been in love with you, y/n. i just suck at expressing that. and i get nervous around you so it makes it worse.” sana’s facial expression softened now, the stars in her eyes apparent.

“the only way i know how to show you i like you is by being an absolute bitch to you. i’m sorry. i’m just insecure and i thought you were too good for me. you’re right, okay, you don’t deserve to be treated like this. it’s okay if you d-“

this time you were the one to bruise sana’s lips. you cut her sentence midway, having heard enough to confirm what you suspected all this time. you knew she had something for you. it was always odd how she wanted you to do things for her that would specifically get you to be alone with her. like the time she made you clean out her car and she just watched you, or when she made you write her essay for her in the library and she just sat there. observing you.

you always had a gut feeling, but you pushed it so far down because you didn’t want to fall for her any more than you already did.

“stop talking. i know.” you pushed sana back until you both bumped into her bed, climbing up and straddling her lap.

sana hummed in confusion, trying to break away from the kiss to ask for clarification.

“fuck you mean- you- know?”

you smiled against her lips and only responded by crossing your arms over your torso, grabbing the hem of your hoodie and lifting it over your head, your hair falling over your shoulder.

sana let out a small gasp, looking over your figure. you were only wearing a sports bra underneath and the band of your panties was showing above your sweatpants, just below your belly button.

“you came over here just wearing that? you really are a slut.”

you laughed and shook your head, kissing her again to stop her from saying another overused insult.

“don’t ruin it.”

sana ran her hands along your body, rubbing the soft skin from the small of your back to the nape of your neck, her warm lips making contact with the base of your throat. she was bear hugging you against her at this point, afraid you would run out of her grasp at any moment.

you whimpered when sana sunk her teeth into your neck, you were sure it left a mark. sana cooed and soothed the bite, running her tongue around it and kissing it gently. she moved her kisses up along your jaw, watching the way you writhed under her touch through hooded, lustful eyes.

“fuck- just fuck me already.” you were begging at this point, already riled up the moment you walked through her door.

sana complied and wrapped her arms around your waist, flipping you onto your back so her front was flush against you.

she brought her lips back to yours, savoring it as she hooked her fingers onto the waistband of your pants taking everything off. she slid them down your legs, helping you kick your feet out and threw them somewhere on the floor.

you were exposed against her, the cold air hitting your core making you moan in anticipation. sana moved her lips down your body, tending to every single inch of you. you felt so hot watching her, the lust in her eyes intimidating and seductive.

sana made it close to where you needed her most, breathing out and kissing around your clit. her warm breath against your pussy made you impossibly wetter. sana was such a fucking tease.

she migrated over to your thighs, kissing and marking up the flesh with love bites. you just needed to feel her mouth on you so bad.

“fuck sana- stop teasing.” she could hear the desperation in your tone, letting out a low laugh.

“let me have my fun, y/n. it’s what you wanted right? for me to just touch you like this.” sana flicked her tongue over your clit once, making you whine.

“it’s why you came over here with nothing on under that hoodie right? you just wanted me to fuck you.”

you hated the way she was so entitled. of course you didn’t expect to get fucked by her. you just wore whatever was comfortable. but you definitely had thoughts about it..

you grinded your hips against nothing in hopes for some sort of relief. your mind was getting blurry at this point, the only thing clouding your mind now was cumming on sana’s tongue. ironic.

sana finally gave in and licked the flat of her tongue against your whole core. she took your swollen clit into her mouth, sucking it in pulses and making figure eight patterns with her tongue. you were already a moaning mess five seconds in, shocked at how good she was.

your hands flew to sana’s hair, grabbing the back of her head to push her face deeper into you. she moaned against your pussy when you pulled her hair, ruining her bun.

you felt yourself already getting close just from sana’s mouth. you attempted to squeeze your legs together, but sana pushed them down with her hands, forcing them apart.

“keep your fucking legs open, g’na make you cum all over my tongue.” her voice was husky and she was practically growling her words.

sana moved one of her hands from your thigh to fuck two fingers into you, wrapping her other arm around the top of your abdomen, pushing down on your pelvic.

“sana! fuck- fuck just like that- god.” you were screaming her name and your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans suppressed. you felt the tightness in your stomach building up.

suddenly, sana paused her movements and you looked down at her confused and pissed that she just stopped when you were so, so close.

“i wanna hear you. if you do that shit again, i’ll make you leave with only the clothes you have on.” which was nothing except your sports bra.

you threw your head back in annoyance, nodding and squeezing your eyes shut. “mhm, whatever, just fucking get back to ruining me already.” your whiny voice mixed with your contradicting words ignited a fire in sana.

she began fucking you with her fingers again, relentlessly curling up against the sweet spot on your flesh everytime she thrusted into you. “oh now you want me to fucking ruin you huh? i thought it was wrong? hm? thought you wanted me to be nice? i was just a fucking bully, right? you liked it though. yeah, you wanted the attention. you wanted me to be mean to you. fuckin’ dumb bitch.”

her words hit you differently now. if it was any other situation you would have the urge to punch her in her smug face, but when she has you laid out like this, you can’t help but be turned on by her degrading words.

you couldn’t even form a comeback anymore, too fucked out to say anything except her name.

“fuck, fuck, sana, fuck- please don’t stop- ‘m gonna cum, fuck-“

sana sucked your clit back into her mouth and that threw you over the edge. you finished with a loud, long moan, gripping her hair tight enough to rip out a few strands, bucking your core flush against her face. your juices entirely coated her lips and she drank you up without wasting a single drop.

moaning against your clit, she helped you ride out your orgasm and slowly pumped her fingers until you calmed down enough for her to relax.

sana sat up and licked her lips, cleaning her fingers off with her mouth, humming in satisfaction, enjoying your sweet taste. you watched her with sleepy eyes, feeling an uncomfortable throb already building back up in your core from watching her erotic actions. she lowered back down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her lips.

“so did we finish the experiment?”

[radiocrypt-id]

I got- I can't!

Imagine being 15, you've grown up your whole life with this one belief in this one God and you were told you were Chosen by Him, for Him. And you're 15. You believe so fully in the spirit of your religion, not necessarily the word, that you want to go to a non-religious school to try and help other kids maybe find your God because you genuinely believe that could be helpful to some of them, because it's all you know, and it's helped other strangers (human trafficking victims she helped in the black pit before) so why not other kids her age? You're 15 and all you can think about is helping others. And you start thinking about your religion, and reading books, and asking questions and you come to the conclusion that maybe your God and His Father aren't actually all that great. Maybe the church you're in has done some really bad things that you can't possibly make up for. Maybe that church is still doing bad things. And then you find out your family is actually in a cult for that God, not just part of the normal church, and you suddenly have to undo all the cult shit in your brain you were raised with, while that cult stuff you know about is actually useful to your friends, like having that knowledge is helpful for them! You're 15 and you stop going home. You have no real adult supervision or carer, just your other 15 year old friends.

Imagine you're 16, you're gay and figuring that out on top of navigating your first full romantic relationship and being the sole creator and cleric to a new God that you honestly find to be very two dimensional and empty. You're on a quest to find an evil being and stop them. You nearly die. Your friends nearly die. You're 16. You're 16 and feel something calling out to you, you know it's divine because you've felt that sort of pull before, but you've never felt one like this. You find memories and hints and pieces and you figure out that the evil being you have to stop, isn't evil, she's just hurting. She's hurt and She's a God. She's your God, and she's so happy to see you, and she has so many ideas, and so many hopes.

You're 17. You've spent your rest time (summer vacation) tearing across the world chasing down and defeating another evil thing that you and your friends accidentally released in the first place. Your God is with you, you have no time for Her. No time for anything but trying to survive and stay sane. You know She's disappointed in you, but you're one person -ONE PERSON- and you're 17. You missed your birthday. again. You've saved the world; again. You're so fucking tired -like always. You're Chosen, and alone, and have no idea what to do with your life, let alone your God. You aren't very good at school, but you go to every class. You're drowning as you try to rewrite your understanding of the world from what you grew up with, having no idea how to do anything without a book and godly hand to guide you. You only ever followed before, your new God is demanding you Lead. You don't know how. You're only 17. You see your horrible, abusive parents spitting abuse and racist rhetoric at your baby brother, who you haven't seen in two years, on the front steps to your school and for the first time ever you are filled with righteous fury. Your God answers your call, not knowing what you need but so eager to help, eager for your attention, she starts talking to you but you're busy -why can't she understand that you're fucking busy? trying to not die, trying to be safe, trying to keep your friends alive, trying to navigate a world that hates you, you're 17 and you're busy goddammit just wait!- and she snaps back at you and flees. The next time you see Her, maybe an hour later, She's got a creature with Her that nearly destroyed you and your friends last year sitting in her lap, so smug to see you again.

You're 17- no, 16- no, 15 years old and you're expected to build and carry the world on your shoulders, Chosen from birth, raised a lamb to follow a Shepard, not to be followed behind. You have no one and nothing and everyone expects everything and you can't back up, you can't pause because if you do someone dies and doesn't come back. You have to be a hero, a chosen, a saint. The steps behind you crumble to dust with each step you take forward and the new one is already cracking under your weight. There are only wrong choices. There's no hand reaching for you. God, you were taught, will save and guide you. God knows best. Why is your God looking to you, a mortal human, to be saved, raised and guided? You're a child.

You're just a child.

You just want to go home, wherever that is. You thought it was your God, but She's not exactly helping you out either, is She? She's just disappointed. Like everyone else. Like you.

You're 17. You think it would have been better to never do any of this. It would have been easier to stay, blind and naive. Sometimes you think you should have stayed in heaven. Sometimes you think about the God you killed by not being good enough for it. Sometimes you lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling and pretend you don't exist for awhile. Sometimes you work your body so hard you forget it's there and your mind shuts up and you exist without being you. Sometimes you wish you never asked any questions or read any books. You're 17, but sometimes you wish you were 15, with no idea yet.

You're 17. You wish you were good enough.

[bruh-changbin]

sweet tooth

pairing: park jay x waitress!afab reader

genre: smut, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe), public sex, creampie, finger sucking, minimal food play, lots of mentions of food, brief mention of male masturbation, jongseong is kind of a big desperate loser, lmk if i’m missing anything

word count: 6.7k

a/n: writing this killed me idk why it took fucking forever dawg. but hey, i’m finally giving you all an enha fic without a depressing ending!!! here’s a fun drinking game to play while you read this: take a shot every time jay says a variation of ‘uhhh’ (you will die) ALSOOOO this is for my bae’s @k-ingzo @lix-ables thank you guys for hyping me up to write this bc if you didn’t I’m 90% sure I would’ve scrapped it 😻 LOVE YAAAAA

waiting. 

the most painful game one can be subjected to.

seconds stretch into minutes stretch into hours and soon enough the whole concept of time is but a mere social construct that holds no real value. 

surely his coffee’s gone cold by now. 

the view from the window to his right has progressed from one filled with gold, yellow and orange to one filled with blue, black, and indigo. one by one the neon signs of nearby businesses have flickered on to attract the nighttime crowd. 

he tries to ignore the way his heart is sinking in his chest, much like the way he himself is sinking deeper and deeper into the red vinyl cushion of the booth he’s seated in. the overhead speakers have been blaring elvis for the past half hour and he wants to scream and smash a plate on the floor in frustration. if they play hound dog one more time i swear i’m gonna-

jennifer. 20. single. 2.3 km away. her bio read: only swipe right if you like puppies!!!!!

he does like puppies and found her to be quite pretty, so he did as he was instructed. his heart did a small flip in his chest when his phone screen lit up reading ‘it’s a match!’. he got to talking to her and things were going smoothly. well, at least he thought they were. now he’s alone in a booth constantly refreshing their online chat with some sliver of hope that she may still be coming. the same three messages stare back at him:

[5:17 pm] jay : hey! I got here a bit early so i’m just waiting in the car. let me know when you get here and we’ll go in together.

[6:03 pm] jay: it started getting busy so i snagged us a booth, i hope that’s ok… anyways, i’ll see you soon.

[6:49 pm] jay: hello?

whatever, her loss. fuck dating apps.

and fuck jake sim for making him sign up for one.

maybe tinder just isn’t for him. maybe he needs to find love the old fashion way: bumping into someone on the street; locking eyes across a crowded room; both of you reaching for the last bottle of wine at the grocery store and then just insisting that the other takes it. you know, the kind of shit you see in movies.

the only thing is he’s tried the old fashion way for years to no avail, with tinder being his last resort. things like these take time, he tries to remind himself. you can’t rush love, that’s the magic of it!

but now, seated in a booth at an obnoxiously retro themed diner with his head hung low, he has lost all faith in love. he picks up the porcelain mug to his right and downs the dark liquid; cold, just like his heart. 

he should just leave. i mean it’s obvious at this point that he’s been stood up so he should just head home where the teasing and nagging from jake that will bruise his ego even more is iminent. there comes a time in life where one must accept defeat and move on with-

“would you like a top up, sir?”

a sudden interjection from a saccharine voice to his left is what pulls him out of his trance of self pity. woah, hello you. 

it’s been a long time since he’s been rendered speechless, but you do that to him. you, looking like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine as opposed to serving coffee in a diner. a white button down hugs your torso in all the right ways and he’s envious of the red apron that’s tightly wrapped around your waist because that should be him. the blue ballpoint pen tucked behind your ear somehow makes you 10x more attractive and he can feel his throat close up at the sight of you. 

your skin looks smooth and your lips look plump and thank fuck jessica bailed on him because now all he can think about is bending you over this very table and fucking you raw. top up? more like top me, please!

the glint of the gold name tag pinned onto your shirt catches his eye and he reads it: y/n. pretty.

he notices your eyes shifting around anxiously and reality comes crashing down on him. stop drooling over her tits and answer the question you perv. focus!

“i u-uhhh yes, uh yes please that’d be great,” he stutters out embarrassingly, prompting you to bend over and refill his mug with steaming hot coffee from a pot that you hold with a perfectly manicured hand. 

“can i get you anything else while you…” your eyes dart to the empty seat across from where he’s seated, “wait?”

god this is so embarrassing. now the cute waitress thinks he’s a fucking loser who got stood up (that is exactly what happened). could this day get any worse? he was just about to leave, spare himself from more agony when you waltzed into his life and made his brain a complicated, frazzled mess. 

“uhmm no that’s ok,” he’s trying very hard not to trip over the simplest of words, “just the bill would be great.”

you nod, about to turn around and head over to the register when jay speaks up again in an attempt to preserve his image. 

“it was supposed to be a-a work meeting,” he starts while motioning to the still empty spot across from him, “but my uh….. business partner… couldn’t make it, so..”

he’s lying. you know he’s lying. someone waiting for their ‘business partner’ to show up wouldn’t be checking their phone every 1-3 minutes while intermittently wiping their clammy palms on their slacks every time the doorbell jingles and a new customer enters.

but he doesn’t need to know that, so you paint on an understanding smile before heading over to the diner counter, sparing him one final glance over your shoulder.

it’s a sad sight to see; a handsome boy patiently waiting for someone who’s clearly not going to show up. so you bring him a slice of red velvet cake dolled up with cream cheese icing and waive the two cups of coffee that were tacked onto his bill for the evening.

“it’s on the house,” you practically whisper into his ear while placing a comforting hand on his sturdy shoulder.

“oh!” his voice cracks, “t-thank you so much i-” he calls, but you’re already walking away to assist another table.

his hand instinctively reaches to where yours was placed on his shoulder only moments ago. he could sense the warmth radiating from your palm, feel the stray hairs of your bangs tickle his ear, smell the artificial strawberry scent of your lip gloss. 

either someone decided to crank the heat up in the diner or he’s becoming extremely flustered (it’s the second one). he scoffs down the cake you left him with flushed cheeks and tight pants, visions of himself prying your legs open and indulging in something sweeter plaguing his mind. 

with a hefty sigh he throws on his coat before making his way out of the diner and into his car that’s parked right out front. from behind his windshield he watches as you greet a group of other customers before turning his keys in the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

he doesn’t even make it home before he’s pulling into an empty parking lot and jerking himself to the thought of you and your work uniform and your glossed lips.

covet. desire. yearn for. crave.

all very real tertiary emotions that park jay would use to describe his current feelings towards you - a server who he spoke to for two minutes max and now can’t seem to move on from.

unsurprisingly, jake teased the fuck out of him for getting stood up in the way that friends do. but he doesn’t know that jay views his failed date as a complete success. 

albeit he is still mildly salty over the fact that he got stood up, all negativity is washed from his brain the moment he pulls into the familiar parking lot in front of the familiar diner and he feels the familiar pitter patter of his heart quickening its pace from behind his ribcage. 

he tried to hold off on returning the literal day after he was just there, he really did, but he simply couldn’t bear it. the urge to see you, to observe you interacting with other patrons to know if you’re nice to everyone or if he got special treatment is too strong to ignore. it’s for science! he assures himself.

the dulcet jingle of the bell as he opens the door to the diner rings in his ears, and he waits to be seated. the hostess that shows him to a booth similar to the one he was in yesterday is pretty, but she’s not you. only then does jay realize that the possibility of you not having been scheduled to work today is very real. this is only worsened by the fact that he decided to come in the late morning today as opposed to the evening like yesterday. stupid, stupid, stupid!!!

while feeling like a complete and utter idiot he decides to get to work, whipping out his journal, writing utensils and laptop for the sake of not looking like a weirdo. what kind of person goes to a diner and just…. sits there. he’s gotta keep up a facade. 

things are starting to look grim for jay as he sits and works and waits for the object of his desire to appear in front of him. while the retro cat clock on the wall continues its relentless ticking he attempts to swallow down his dismay. 

alas, the universe must be on his side after all for soon enough he catches a glimpse of you through his peripherals. yes! you seem to be a little frazzled, gnawing on the inside of your cheek before grabbing a mop to clean up the chocolate milk that a toddler has decided to decorate the floor with; your shift must have just started. 

he keeps his head hung low while intermittently scribbling in his journal or scrolling on his laptop, opting to steal an occasional glance as you assist a plethora of other patrons. the coffee he was served upon his arrival is starting to go tepid, much like yesterday, and he’s practically praying you’ll soon stride over and ask if he needs a top up. 

“more coffee…” you pause briefly, “jay?”

hold up, how’d you learn his name? 

his brow quirks upwards in confusion and with your hand - the one that’s not holding a boiling pot of coffee - you point to his leather bound journal that’s splayed across the table, opened to the first page. property of park jay is scrawled across the top in his sloppy handwriting akin to that of a first graders. he’s surprised you can even distinguish what it says to be completely honest. 

“ahhh,” he remarks in understanding, smiling ever so slightly because hey, now you know each others names. that’s a step in the right direction.

“were you looking to order something? you know, other than black coffee.”

as if on cue his stomach growls (luckily quietly enough for you to not pick up on it) and he fumbles for the plastic covered menu to his right that slips and slides in his sweaty grasp. 

“i would love to but uhh, i’m not sure what i’m in the mood for… what do you recommend?”

you roll his question around in your head for a moment, “were you thinking sweet or savoury? or if you want both, we make a pretty mean monte cristo.”

at this point if you told jay to walk off a cliff he would do it, so he orders your recommendation without hesitation.

“good call,” you purr before waltzing away from his booth and into the kitchen, leaving jay to erupt in a fit of goosebumps on his own. 

while he waits he busies himself with reading an article on his laptop, getting halfway through before realizing he hasn’t actually been taking any information in the entire time. but can you blame him? his brain is… preoccupied with other thoughts. 

soon enough you’re striding back over to where he’s seated, placing a steaming monte cristo with so much confectioner's sugar on top it looks as if there’s been a mini avalanche in front of him. he thanks you and is about to dig in before he realizes you aren’t leaving. 

“is your business partner coming today?”

…what?

“my business partner? i don’t- OH! fuck, uh y-yes my business partner right! uh no, no he’s not coming today. i usually come here to work on my own though.”

for a moment he forgot about the blatant lie he spilled to you the last time he was here to save face, but he thinks he saved himself with that last bit. 

a playful yet triumphant smirk makes its way onto your face, “that’s funny, i’ve never seen you here before yesterday.”

his eyes widen and his palms become impossibly sweaty. caught in a lie, great.

before he can come up with a witty response you just shoot him a knowing look as you walk away from the booth he’s seated in, your strawberry body spray wafting behind you and infiltrating his senses, rendering him immobile. 

ugh how you make his teeth ache! he longs to douse you in syrup and powdered sugar, drag his hot tongue across your skin as you squirm and twist in pleasure underneath him. he’s sure you’d be sweet enough to give him a cavity. he finishes his monte cristo with gusto and attempts to do more work on his laptop but finds his brain to be far too frazzled to do so.

when he decides to call it quits, he leaves you a hefty tip before driving home with the taste of sugar coating his lips and the inside of his mouth.

over the span of a few weeks the two of you become accustomed to a game similar to the likes of cat and mouse.

he shows up to the diner in the late morning/early afternoon and prays that you’re scheduled for a shift; you usually are. through the course of a few hours jay manages to get minimal amounts of work done while you check on him occasionally, offering your opinions on different menu items and then placing a hand on his shoulder with a laugh when he trips over his words. 

he’s sure you can sense the tension as well, but in case you can’t he keeps his thoughts to himself. you could just be doing your job for all he knows. 

nevertheless, it feels as if all aspects of jay’s life now revolve around you. when he falls asleep at night you’re the last thing on his mind and when he wakes up you’re the first. when he gets himself off he has to think of you or else he won’t feel satisfied, and he can only hope and pray that one day he’ll be able to feel your body against his, the warmth radiating from your body making him feel like a cake in an oven. 

sure he’d love to take you out, shower you with gifts and spoil you by taking you to expensive places that would surely break the bank, but he just can’t seem to push away all of the hardly appropriate thoughts and feelings he harbours towards you. it’s becoming quite an issue, honestly.

he thinks of popping the buttons on your blouse open one by one before diving in, scattering bite marks and bruises across your tits and neck and collarbones as you writhe and plead underneath him. i need more jay, please give it to me…

god you would sound so perfect.

his fantasies don’t stop there though; they never do. he can’t help himself from imagining what it'd be like to reach up your skirt and peel your panties down your legs as if they’re strands of red licorice. he’d go so slow, taunting and teasing you before slipping himself inside of you and feeling your cunt suck him in as if you crave him like oxygen. 

you smell of strawberries and he’s sure you taste like them too. the stripper red polish on your nails would pair so well with the scratches he’s sure you’d leave across the expanse of his back and shoulders. he longs to dig his teeth into your plush thighs like they’re mochi, snapping a picture of his bite mark embedded in your perfect skin to save for later use. 

down bad is an understatement when it comes to jay’s desire for you. infatuation is more like it.

today starts off like every other day. the smell of burnt coffee is what pulls him from his slumbers, and the clock on his bedside table tells him he managed to sleep in until one in the afternoon. when he trudges into the kitchen he sees his roommate and friend jake, who likely also just woke up and still doesn’t understand how to properly operate a coffee machine, staring at his phone. 

it’s then that jake reminds him of the plans they made to spend the afternoon at their friends house playing video games before grabbing takeout for dinner. jay curses his past self for agreeing to these dumb plans with his dumb friends since he was planning on heading to the diner today to marvel at his favourite waitress! oh well, he can still head over for an hour and a half at most before he has to return and uphold the prior promise he made. 

he turns down jake’s offer of a cup of coffee and, after a quick shower, he’s flying out the door.

when he finally makes it to the place where he spends most of his days now he doesn’t even wait to be seated, just slips into the same booth as always and waits for you. the little ritual the two of you have fallen into now so ingrained into his brain he can’t imagine straying from it. alas, it’s decently busy today so he busies himself by scrolling through his instagram feed while waiting for you to grace him with your presence.

when you finally appear in front of him you don’t say anything, just shoot him your usual friendly smile while precariously placing a napkin and mug of black coffee in front of him before leaving as quickly as you came. this sends jay into an emotional spiral. oh god, did i do something wrong? he ponders to himself, brows furrowed as he tries to remember everything he said to you during your last interaction that could have potentially been misconstrued.

only then does he notice the blue ink poking out from the napkin tucked underneath his steaming mug of coffee. with shaky hands he pulls it out and reads the short message written in your refined penmanship:

my shift is done at 10:00 pm.

wait for me? :)

y/n

and just below your neat scrawl he can make out a sticky lip gloss print, a faint hint of the fake strawberry scent that plagues his mind day and night still lingering. 

in this moment he should be happy, ecstatic, victorious even! his constant and obsequious devotion to you has not gone unnoticed, and at long last he’ll be alone with you in a place that doesn’t have checkered tile floors and posters of pin ups on every square inch of the teal coloured walls. but no, all he feels is embarrassment.

embarrassment because he was too much of a wiener to actually do something so you felt the need to take matters into your own hands. and embarrassment because your little napkin love letter signed off with your glossy kiss is making him excruciatingly horny. it’s like he’s in highschool all over again - yikes. 

he glances at the face of the silver watch that he scarcely takes off, the leather wrist strap now feeling uncomfortably tight considering his recent spike in blood pressure. with some reluctance he decides to leave early, tucking your napkin note into his pocket before driving home while barely focusing on the road and cars in front of him.

the hangout with jake and the rest of his friends is excruciating as expected. time seems to both fly by and drag on simultaneously, and he watches the hands on his watch tick down the hours, minutes, seconds until he can finally be with you - alone. when jake finally throws the towel in jay all but runs out of the door, speeding down the now far emptier city streets before pulling into the dining parking lot and waiting (he’s 23 minutes early).

with every passing minute his heart rate quickens and, when the time reads 10:06 pm, he thinks he’s going to faint when he sees you exit your place of work and scan the parking lot briefly before making your way over to his car. the sound of his passenger side door opening feels far off as he tries to make sense of the fact that you are about to be in his car, right beside him. what the fuck.

“hi.”

“hi.”

“i like your car.”

“oh, you do?”

“yep. it suits you.”

“really?”

you only nod at this, flashing him a subtle grin before flipping down the sun visor in front of you to tidy up your appearance after a long and tiring shift (he still thinks you look pretty). it feels as if his fingers aren’t his own as he fiddles with the radio while gazing at you through his peripherals, watching as you rub the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes before applying a final coat of the lip gloss that he loves oh so much. how on earth is he going to last longer than 5 minutes without falling at your feet?

“sooo what do you wanna do?” jay questions, unsure if his eagerness to hear your response is because he’s genuinely curious or because he just likes the sound of your voice.

“you choose, take me anywhere,” you offer with a smile, “surprise me!”

“okay!” he responds, narrowly escaping a voice crack as he shifts his car into reverse.. he has just the place in mind. 

the drive is somewhat of a lengthy one, although you don’t seem to mind. it’s warm enough to have the windows down, and jay greedily gulps down deep breaths of the fresh night air. from your spot in the passenger seat you ramble about your day at the diner, complaining about an old man who held the ketchup bottle the wrong way and promptly squirted it all over you when you came to ask how he was doing. despite all, you still manage to have a positive attitude. 

soon enough he’s pulling off of the main road into an opening surrounded by woods, killing the engine and the car lights and opting to bask in the natural glow of the night sky. 

“wow jay, way to be subtle.”

“what!!?”

“what do you mean what? you bring me to the city’s unofficial official makeout spot and expect me to not be skeptical?”

fuck. for the entirety of the drive over he was hoping that you wouldn’t know about the promiscuous reputation this spot has garnered over the years. he can’t give up this quickly though, he must play innocent!

“i- woahh, is that what this place is? i genuinely had no idea i just-”

“shut it jay, the first thing i noticed about you was that you’re a terrible liar.”

you’ve got him there, deception is not his strong suit. he’s about to explain himself when he notices you unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of his car, prompting him to do the same.

“i just thought it would be a nice, secluded space where we could talk and hang out… nothing more.”

silence settles over the two of you and, upon noting jay’s queasy expression, you decide to indulge yourself and tease him (just a little bit).

“what are you trying to say?” you bat your eyelashes and fake being in thought, “that you don’t wanna fuck me on the hood of your car?”

he chokes on his saliva. 

“w-what i’m trying to say is that i’m a uhhhh gentleman. i’m a gentleman.”

yeah right, you think to yourself. a gentleman and a major fucking hypocrite. 

“okay jay, if you’re such a gentleman then why do you have a raging hard-on from literally just talking to me?”

in the pale moonlight you see his eyes widen before he scrambles to cover his crotch, not doing much to conceal his erection that’s straining against his slacks. 

“oh god i’m so sorry i can explain uhh-”

“i’m just fucking with you,” you taunt before petting his hair affectionately, attempting to quieten your giggles while jay plasters on a fake smile even though he looks like he’s about to puke. in an attempt to garner the little composure he has left he turns away from you, the cool night air soothing his heated cheeks. 

from where he’s standing he’s granted an overarching view of the city he calls home. against the nighttime sky he can decipher the suburbs, the downtown area, the cafe district. upon each building there’s a small rectangle filled with yellow or white light, windows in which individual people are carrying out their individual lives; it makes everything seem so… miniscule. i mean, aside from you, nobody even knows he’s up here - and he’s still trying to decipher if that’s a good thing or not, seeing as tonight all he’s done is embarrass himself. 

when he looks back you’re leaning against the hood of his car, your arms folded across your chest which sequentially shoves your tits together in a way that makes him wanna plunge his face in between them and give you a good old fashioned motorboat. 

his thoughts are cut off when you speak up.

 “i brought you something,” you announce before turning and opening the passenger side door of jay’s car, trifling around in your before before pulling something out and heading back to where you were standing before, leaning against the hood of his car. in your hands is a toppled over piece of red velvet cake protected by a clear plastic takeout container coupled with two disposable forks. 

“sorry it’s kinda smushed…. i forgot about it.”

“no, that’s ok!” jay thinks you shouldn’t have to apologize for anything ever, “thank you.”

with a crisp pop you open up the container, moving it to sit in between the two of you before passing jay one of the flimsy plastic forks. he lets you take the first bite, stating that after a long shift you need to get your blood sugar back up. you laugh before complying, watching as jay takes a bite right after you do, his eyes rolling back as all of the sweet, rich flavours dance across his taste buds. despite the piece of cake not being in the best condition, it still tastes like heaven.

jay’s caught off guard when your hand suddenly swoops in just as he’s about to spear another piece of cake with his fork, collecting a dollop of icing on one of your nails. he should’ve seen it coming when you reach up and wipe it on the tip of his nose with a playful laugh.

“wow y/n, so original,” he sneers while wiping the cream cheese icing on his nose onto the back of his hand. 

he attempts to do the same to you, dipping his finger in the thick frosting before moving to wipe it on the tip of your nose, but you suddenly latch onto his wrist. he watches with hungry eyes and an erratic pulse as your tongue comes in contact with his knuckle, licking all the way up to his icing-coated fingertip before taking his digit inside your mouth. the thick muscle of your tongue wraps around his finger, sucking away the sweetness before you pull yourself off of him. a faint pink ring of lip gloss on the base of his knuckle now present. 

fuck me.

not a single word is exchanged before jay pushes himself onto you, prompting you to lean back against the hood of his car that’s still slightly warm. with your body weight resting on your elbows and your legs spreading to accommodate jay’s torso, you finally let him taste you. 

your lips are soft and warm like a pastry fresh out of the oven, and when he pulls away he heaves a heavenly sigh filled with pleasure and contentment and thank fuck this is finally happening. it’s not long before you’re pressing your lips to jay’s again, one of your hands moving up to caress the shell of his ear before resting against his face.

you can feel his jaw move against your palm when he opens his mouth and drags his tongue across your sugar coated lips, inducing you to do the same. when his tongue pushes past your teeth and brushes against yours you groan in pleasure, the fingers previously gracing his face dipping down to undo several buttons of your work shirt. with his lips against yours and his tongue down your throat you can feel him giving into you, as if you’re a delectable piece of his favourite candy and he has a raging sweet tooth. 

when jay pulls himself off of you you think you might just cry. luckily you don’t go without his touch for long, for when you open your eyes you watch him dip two fingers into the frosting on top of the forgotten slice of cake before smearing it across the exposed flesh of your tits and down your sternum. he promptly shoves the two frosting coating fingers into your gaping mouth, gazing at you with heart eyes as you suck them clean. 

only then does he dip his head down, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your right breast before licking the stripe of icing off with one broad swipe of his tongue. he gives your other breast the same treatment before giving it teasing nips and kisses, using his tongue to soothe the pinch of his canines. 

once he licks the rest of the frosting from your sternum he continues his descent, not stopping until the insides of your thighs are brushing against his pierced ears. in one swift movement he flips your skirt upwards, your pretty panties with a subtle wet patch now on display for him and only him.

not being able to resist seeing your bare cunt in all of its glory, jay eagerly digs two fingers into the waistband before dragging the fabric down your legs. your lacy pink thong gets all twisted and tangled around your ankles as jay struggles to pull it off, eventually managing to get it around your sneakers before tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping. 

he feels his pants grow impossibly tights as he stares at you on the hood of your car with your legs spread, quite literally something that could’ve been torn right out of a playboy. without missing a beat jay dives into you, flattening his thick tongue and licking you like he would a dripping ice cream cone. it catches you by surprise and you instinctively tangle your fingers in his ebony tresses, a needy moan making its way past your lips and into the air. jay uses the tip of his tongue to explore your needy pussy, lapping up your juices and revelling in the taste on his tongue. i could die like this he thinks, and he digs his blunt nails into your thighs while shoving his head impossibly deeper. 

it’s somewhat sloppy, but what he lacks in technique he makes up for in enthusiasm. it feels like he’s practically making out with your cunt and you can’t help yourself from tugging on his hair in approval. the groans he emits in response have you shuddering, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and tremble as you struggle to keep them pried open. in your lower abdomen you can feel the pressure of an impending orgasm begin to brew.

this sensation only doubles when jay shifts his focus to your clit, sucking on and toying with it like it’s a sugar-covered gumdrop. his actions have you arching your back off of the hood of his car, eyes squeezing shut as you cry and plead, “p-please don’t stop jay… never stop.”

your pleas boost jay’s ego to the max and he eats you out with unrestrained passion, alternating between sucking your clit and tonguing your hole until you finish all over his mouth with a canorous cry that reverberates between his ears. he hopes to never forget that sound.

with reluctance he pulls himself off of your sweet pussy, having to push your legs apart slightly to free himself from the way they were clenching around his head. he stares at you in awe as you bask in the post-orgasm sensation, mouth agape and chest heaving faintly. your eyes, when you finally pry them open, are slightly glassy and it looks like it takes you a second to come back to earth. 

your grip on jay’s hair loosened but you never fully let go, and soon enough he feels you tugging at his roots in an attempt to get him to hover over you once again. without hesitation you press your lips to his once again, tasting yourself in and on his mouth as you kiss him until you can’t breathe. 

his curious hands never stay resting in one spot on your body for longer than a second before he’s exploring somewhere else, his mouth making a path from your lips down to your jaw and neck. the tips of his fingers finally stop when they reach your hips, gripping onto your and flipping you over so your chest is against jay’s car and your ass is up in the air. 

he can’t help himself from ogling at your perfect form all splayed out for him. the curve of your ass is to die for and jay starts subconsciously unbuckling his belt, easing the strain of his pants against his painfully hard dick. 

from your spot on top of the car you begin to grow impatient. your tits are smushed and your neck is craned and even though you just came you’re already ready for another one if it means you get to feel jay filling you up like a cream puff. luckily, you soon feel the tip of jay’s cock dragging through your folds, your still-sensitive clit throbbing slightly when he bumps into it. the sound of jay spitting into his palm joins that of the crickets and your erratic breathing, soon replaced by his sighs of delight as he strokes his cock with his spit covered hand to help lube it up. 

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when you finally feel him prod your entrance with his tip, although you can sense some hesitancy. it’s not surprising when the silence is broken by jay asking: “...are you ready?”

he feels his chest tighten when you make a noise of approval followed by a meek nod, your starry eyes glancing back at him as much as you can in this particular position. with a hefty exhale he nods back before slowly starting to sink into you, a low groan making its way out of his chest as he pushes deeper and deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. 

once fully inside of you he remains stagnant for a moment, needing to adjust to how incredibly warm and tight you feel if he wants to last longer than three seconds. soon enough he feels he’s garnered enough collectedness to start moving, so he does. 

his movements are small, almost timid at first. like he’s testing the waters, garnering enough confidence to go harder, faster. your hushed whimpers of pleasure ring in his ears and he teasingly rolls his hips in an attempt to have you feel him impossibly deeper inside of you. 

“j-jay!” you cry when he seemingly bumps your g-spot with the tip of his cock, the muscles of your waist tensing up when he does. wanting to provide you as much pleasure as possible he continues his ministrations, not altering them in any way out of fear of doing something wrong. 

jay feels his stomach start to seize up as a pleasurable burn takes hold in his lower stomach, his vision blurring slightly at the edges as he shifts between groaning aloud and biting his lip so hard he’s worried he’ll break the skin and draw blood. with exercised caution he picks up the pace, ensuring that in this moment you’re still feeling as good as he is. 

his cock slips in and out of your desperate, dripping hole with ease, your hips banging against the unyielding metal hood of his car with each and every thrust. it’s hardly comfortable, but at this moment in time you think you’d rather die than have jay stop - so you persevere. 

“god you’re so good jay, so fucking big,” you praise as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching steadily. most of your limbs have started to go numb from the position you’re in yet you can feel each and every nerve end slowly begin to burn up, to bring you closer and closer to release. when jay reaches down to toy with your aching clit, you’re done for. 

the slight ache from the way your cunt is stretched around his cock adds to the jolting sensations that come every time he bumps your clit has you so close, so close you can taste the sweet promise of an orgasm dancing on the tip of your tongue. jay feels it too, for he throws all inhibitions to the wind and fucks you from behind with no restraint. 

he can feel his release creep up his spine and spread through all of his limbs until it’s all he can see, taste, and feel. groans continue to spill past his lips as white hot light floods his senses and a blinding orgasm washes over him, which is only strengthened by the sensation of your pussy clenching around his cock as you finish underneath him. he cums inside of your wanting cunt, filling it up to the brim before collapsing on top of you with a grunt. 

seconds turn into minutes and the two of you remain in place, breaths and pulses struggling to return to normal as you come down from an intense high. jay can feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and he scrambles off of you when he realizes he was quite literally resting all of his weight on you.

with a helping hand he helps you sit up, chuckling slightly when your knees turn to jello when you try to stand up. so, you opt to stay seated on the hood of jay’s car for just a few more moments, patting the spot beside you to get him to sit down. you’re sure you look like a mess, but jay gazes at you with something that can only be described as awe.

smitten. captivated. enraptured. allured. 

the pale light of the moon casts a heavenly glow across your face, and he kisses your lips like they’re covered in strawberry syrup. 

a/n: tumblr’s editing system is the biggest piece of garbage i am so sorry if there are any weird glitches or anything but i am literally seconds away from whipping my laptop at the wall out of frustration as i edit this so pls lmk if anything looks weird when this posts lawl thank you

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You talk to Bradley, and he assures you that he'll be home in time for the wedding in one piece, with Jake in tow. When Bradley is back on land, you let him in on your little secret, and he has a whole new mission in mind: getting his fill of you, while keeping you filled with him.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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Bradley sat up in the infirmary all night. He was bruised and sore all over, and it had taken him hours to get warmed up again. But he was still doing a bit better than Jake at the moment. 

It was pretty clear that Jake had a concussion and lacerations on his forehead, most likely from the canopy hitting him while Bradley tried to help him open it. But the medical staff had assured Bradley that he would be fine once he rested. And perhaps the best part was that he was going to be allowed to facetime with you in a few hours. Turns out that when you save someone's life, the Admirals will let you do pretty much anything you want. 

"Bradshaw," Jake mumbled, and Bradley couldn't help but smile from the chair next to the bed.

"How you feeling, Bagman?" Bradley asked, his voice still raw from the punishment he'd put his lungs through a few hours ago.

"I feel great," Jake replied, pushing himself up on his elbows. "Other than the fact that I want to throw up every time I move. What the hell happened?"

Bradley shrugged. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Lost both engines," Jake drawled with his eyes closed. "And then skipped the damn runway." He opened his eyes and looked at Bradley. "Thank you."

"Don't." Bradley shook his head. "Do not thank me. If anything, I owed you one. Besides, I was firmly instructed to make sure I bring you back home with me."

Jake tried to laugh, but it must have caused him pain by the way he winced. Then he reached up to his forehead which now had a neat row of stitches. "I'm going to have a fucking scar across my face. Do you have any idea how pretty I am?"

"Were," Bradley replied with an eye roll. "You should try to rest." 

"Wake me up when you facetime Angel. I want to ask her a few questions about her bachelorette party."

--------------------

You had just finished hanging up the photo collage you made out of your parents' wedding photos as well as some of Goose and Carole on their big day. You had left some spots open in the middle, ready for your own photos to be added once you had them back. It was quirky and fun, and it looked perfect hanging above the piano.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you almost screamed. It was unlikely your parents were calling you back since you just talked to them, so you were praying it was Bradley. Restricted Facetime Caller.

You answered it, and your screen was immediately filled with Bradley's face.

"Roo!" you gushed dropping into one of the dining room chairs. "I miss you!"

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspier than usual, and it almost sounded like he was sick. You were about to ask him what was wrong when he started talking again. "I'm just going to cut to the chase here. Jake got injured."

"What?" you gasped. "What happened? How bad?" 

"He's fine, promise. He's actually right here. Mind if he joins us?"

Your heart was absolutely pounding. Initially, your mind went to teasing Bradley over facetime, maybe letting him see your tattoo.

"Put him on!" you said, and a second later, Bradley was joined in the frame by Jake who had stitches on his forehead. "What is going on?"

Both men shared a look before turning back to you. "Happened during the mission. Just a little cut, Angel. Nothing to worry about," Jake promised.

You sighed and ran your hands along your face. 

"There's something a lot more pressing we need to discuss," he added, and you noticed Bradley's eyes got a little wide. "Do you want strippers for your bachelorette party?"

You were suddenly so confused now, you thought maybe you were the one with the head injury. "Bachelorette party? Roo...did you tell him?" you gasped. If Bradley let it slip that you were getting married this month, you were going to scream.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Yes, Jake knows we are eloping in Mexico next month."

You just stared at both of them. "Are we?" you asked cautiously. 

"We are," Bradley replied with a firm nod. You wanted to start laughing, but Jake was already rattling off plans for a party for you and one for Bradley. He was either severely concussed, and you were supposed to be playing along, or Bradley lied to him about your wedding plans. Either way, you nodded and agreed with everything he was saying while Bradley just looked exasperated. 

"So, a stripper?" Jake asked. "I know a guy." You just gave a vague answer, not sure about how you were supposed to be responding. Bradley was cradling his forehead in his hand now. "Rooster said he doesn't want a stripper. But I kind of want him to have a stripper so at least everyone else can enjoy their night."

"I don't want a stripper," Bradley said firmly to Jake. Then he turned to you and said, "I really don't."

You just shrugged and smirked. "You can get me one Jake, sounds fun."

Bradley rolled his eyes as Jake asked, "Male or female?"

"Mmm, surprise me," you replied. "Jake, you mind if I talk to Bradley for a sec? I'm glad you're okay, but you look like you could use some rest."

"Sure, Angel," he said as you told him you missed him too and couldn't wait to see him.

Bradley watched him walk away, and when he looked back at the screen with a wary expression, you waited for him to speak first.

"Sweetheart. Listen. I kind of fucked up, but he kept bugging me about a wedding date, so I lied and made up some story about Mexico."

You were smiling, and then you started laughing, and then Bradley joined in as well. "So he's really on this bachelor party weekend? And strippers? Not just because it looks like he hit his head?"

Bradley shook his head. "He's determined to plan the party of your dreams. So you might as well just tell him what you want, Baby Girl."

You rolled your eyes. "Sounds like I'm getting a stripper," you muttered. "How did he get hurt anyway? Wait- you're okay, right?" you asked, suddenly wondering why Bradley looked so nervous. 

"I'm perfectly fine. Promise. Can we talk more about this when I'm back home?"

You perked up right away. "When will that be, Roo?" 

"I'll send you the flight information as soon as I have it."

"Just make sure it's before the 28th."

"Most important day of my life. Wouldn't miss it."

--------------------------

When you got to work on the Thursday before Thanksgiving, Bickel called you to his office. You were practically vibrating with excitement. You hadn't actually spoken to Bradley or Jake again, but both of them had emailed you information about their return flight. In twelve hours, you'd be picking them up from the airport. 

"Yes, sir?" you asked, knocking on your boss's open office door. 

He motioned for you to close the door and then offered you a donut. You took a seat with a chocolate glazed in one hand and waited until he selected one from the box as well. When he took a few bites before he said anything, you started to get a little nervous. 

"You have all those vacation days coming up," he said before popping the last of his strawberry donut into his mouth.

"Yes, sir," you replied. "December first through ninth." 

Your heart was pounding. He had already signed off on your honeymoon dates without any questions asked. Was he going to try to give you a hard time about it now? Bradley had had no issues with getting his vacation approved, because Maverick already knew what it was for.

Bickel cleared his throat and opened his desk drawer. "I know you didn't explicitly say, and I'm not going to explicitly ask, but I am going to assume that you are taking the time off to get married. Maybe elope like Evelyn and I did."

Your lips parted, wanting to deny your plans. But you couldn't. You just watched him pull an envelope out of his desk before closing the drawer softly. "This is for you. A wedding gift." He handed you the envelope and asked, "Am I completely off base here?"

You just shook your head and smiled at him. "No, sir."

"Well, congratulations. I'm away next week, so I won't see you until you get back from wherever you're going. Enjoy your time off, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." You stood to leave and he stood too, shaking your hand. 

"Also, Cat Coleman accepted that open position with us. Her first day of work will be your first day back," he informed you. "Take a donut for the road. You're dismissed."

You nibbled on a cream filled donut as you made your way back to your office. Cat Coleman would be starting next month. If she was as good as she claimed to be, that should free up some more time in your schedule to work on research projects with your boss. Sonya was great, but now you were always going to be a little wary of transfers from Annapolis.

By the time you met Phoenix for lunch, you were on a sugar and caffeine high, so you got a salad and some water. 

"Please don't tell me you're on some wedding diet?" she commented. "Your dress already fits you perfectly."

"Listen, I've been subsiding on donuts and coffee. My body wanted me to eat something green." 

When you started eating your salad, Phoenix grinned at you from across the table. "I got an email from Jake, and he told me that he knows when and where you're getting married, because apparently he weasled it out of Rooster. And that your bachelorette party is on Saturday."

"I'm sorry, what? My bachelorette party is in two days?"

"Yeah," she added with a smirk. "And Bradley's bachelor party is tomorrow night."

"Jake is a nightmare," you muttered. "Listen, I don't even need a party."

"Yes, you do. And I'm going to make sure you get drunk, and then we can really have a heart to heart about exactly what it means to marry my best friend." Nat gave you a hard look and pointed at you with her fork. "No give backs. No exchanges. No breaking his heart in any way. He's going to moon over you for the rest of his life, so I better see some mutual pining, even when he's old and fat. Got it?" she asked with a laugh, unable to keep a straight face.

You thought about Bradley's cute tummy he acquired after he was injured and watching reality TV for weeks on end. "Got it," you told her. "Sounds like a breeze."

------------------------

When their flight touched down in San Diego, Bradley was practically shoving Jake off the airplane to get to you as quickly as possible. There was barely a week until the wedding, and he missed you so much. 

"Take it easy," Jake grumbled, and Bradley took a deep breath. He knew Jake had been getting continuous headaches since he skidded off the aircraft carrier and into the ocean. And he also knew that you and Jake were for some reason good friends, so he slowed his pace down and clenched his jaw.

"She said she would be waiting by our baggage claim carousel," Bradley said, winding through the crowd. Their flight had been delayed, and it was after nine in the evening, and Bradley wanted to get you home, because you had to work in the morning. He had the day off tomorrow, and Jake was insisting on throwing him a bachelor party that he didn't even want tomorrow night. But Bradley wasn't going to fight him on it; it wasn't worth the effort on his part.

"There she is," Bradley and Jake said in unison, and Bradley took off in your direction. You hadn't spotted them yet as you were looking up at the flight arrivals screen. God, you were beautiful, and in a week you'd be wearing an additional ring and calling him your husband.

"Baby Girl," he called out, and you spun to face him, your dress kind of swirling around your thighs. Without a word, you launched yourself into his arms, and Bradley held you tight. 

"You were gone more than two weeks," you said against his neck with a laugh. "It was fifteen days. I'm going to complain to Mav."

Bradley kissed your lips and then pressed his forehead to yours. "But I'm back. In time for our wedding."

You giggled and kissed him again, but a second after that, you were abandoning him to hug Jake and make a fuss over his stitches. Bradley rolled his eyes and started looking for the duffles on the carousel. He and Jake had decided to spare you the details of his crash landing and the subsequent spur of the moment rescue mission. It didn't matter. They were both home now. 

"No, I'm fine, Angel. Just need to get the stitches removed next week. You ready for your bachelorette party?" Jake asked you, and Bradley watched you shake your head. 

"If you insist."

A few minutes later, Bradley was carrying both duffle bags out to his Bronco, hot on your heels as you guided Jake along. It was obvious that he desperately needed to get home and get some rest. After you helped Jake get in the backseat, Bradley buckled you in the passenger seat and kissed you one time, running his fingers up your thigh and making you laugh. 

"Take me home," you whispered, and soon Bradley was zipping down the highway and dropping Jake off. 

Bradley jumped out to help him with his bag, and you climbed out to give Jake a hug. But as soon as Jake was inside, Bradley scooped you up again and hauled you back to the Bronco.

"I'm going to take you home and do unspeakable things to you," he whispered, and you started laughing. 

"Like what? I want details," you told him as he buckled you in once more. 

Bradley shook his head and sighed. "I'm going to kiss you and love you forever. You're not gonna know what to do with yourself."

"Sounds filthy," you told him before he closed the door and ran around to the driver's side. 

"It will be," he said, pulling away from the curb. And after he merged back onto the highway, Bradley let his hand rest on your bare knee while he drove. "We could make it a little filthy now if you want."

You very subtly spread your legs a bit wider for him, and Bradley groaned softly. He ran his fingers up and down the inside of your left thigh for a minute, listening to your breathing grow deeper. 

"Your skin is so soft," he whispered over the playlist you had selected on his phone. "Everywhere." He eased his middle finger inside your underwear and stroked you along your slit. "Especially here."

"Bradley," you gasped when he slipped his long finger down to your opening and started to fuck you with it while he drove. After a few steady strokes, Bradley added his index finger and let you ride him. 

Your head was tipped back against the headrest, and when your lips parted, whining his name, Bradley thought you were about to unleash the dirty talk. But it was a different kind of dirty talk than he was used to. 

"How would you feel if I told you I stopped taking my birth control?" 

Bradley's hand froze, his fingers buried deep inside your pussy. He felt you clench softly around him once, and he stroked you slowly in response. Finally, your words and their meaning really took root in his mind.

"I...wait. Is that hypothetical?" he asked, trying to keep control of the steering wheel while his heart pounded. 

You pulled his hand out of your panties and raised his fingers to your lips. And just before you started sucking on them, you said, "Not hypothetical. I've been off the pill for a few days."

Bradley groaned, his cock going from semi erect to painfully hard in an instant. And then his fingers were in your mouth. He slowed down and exited the highway, turning right off the ramp and heading toward the beaches. 

"Where are we going?" you managed to ask, licking between his fingers before he pulled his hand away to park at a quiet overlook. Bradley was unbuckling his seatbelt and then yours and reaching for you. 

"Showing you how much I love the idea of having unprotected sex with you." 

You giggled. "I thought you might like that." He pulled you against him as you crawled across the seat toward him, and then Bradley was gone. Just fully gone in the fantasy of getting you pregnant.

Bradley eased you back along the seat, gently pulling your dress up to expose your tummy. He kissed you there, running his lips along the top of your underwear and licking your tattoo. "We only have a week to work with, Baby Girl, but maybe I can get you pregnant before our wedding?"

You moaned softly, and his hands were unzipping his jeans immediately. He watched you scramble to get your underwear off and toss them on the floor. 

"Oh, you like that idea, too?" he asked, palming his length and pushing himself inside you with one fluid stroke. He fucked you hard and slow, your body cradling his. He kissed your lips and your jaw and your chest, nipping and sucking so you would remember this tomorrow and the next day. "You want me to fuck you until I get you pregnant?"

"Yes," you hissed, tugging on his hair.

He made a noise so deep and needy it had you gaping at him. "I'm going to keep you full all the time now. Full of my cock and my cum. Until you've got a baby growing. Then I'm still going to fuck you so good, Sweetheart. You'll never have to worry about that."

Your words were incomprehensible as Bradley rammed into you over and over again, his lips and tongue sucking along the tops of your breasts. He'd get you all big and swollen, fuck you until you were pregnant with his baby. Make love to you until you once again exceeded all expectations he had for his life. 

"Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley looked at your perfect face. "Come on, Daddy. You can do it," you whispered, licking those pretty lips and whining. "You'll be the best Daddy."

"I'm your Daddy, Baby Girl," he growled, fucking you hard until your nipples were peeking out the top of your dress. Railing you until the slap of his body against yours was as loud as your whining. Your fingers were all wrapped up in his hair, and you guided his lips down to yours. 

The kisses were filthy now, all tongue and dirty talk, and then Bradley was spilling his hot cum inside you, fucking it deeper. He was still softly stroking and pinching your clit, making your body milk every drop out of him as you came too. You squeezed his cock until the sensation had him dizzy. 

His sweaty forehead was pressed to yours as your lips danced along his every time you whispered Daddy. 

Bradley finally glanced up, relieved to find the area where he had parked was still empty. You were underneath him, chewing on your lip and coming down from your high. As his cock grew soft inside you, Bradley could feel his cum start to drip down your ass, and you lifted your head a little bit.

"Roo. We're going to mess up the upholstery."

Bradley laughed and kissed the beautiful curve of your cheek. "I fucking love you so much." Then he used your discarded underwear to carefully collect your joint cum before it could make too much of a mess. "You always take care of everything. Me, Tramp, the Bronco. Can't wait to make you a mommy."

---------------------------

When you got home, Bradley paused in front of the collage you made and hung over his piano. "What's this?"

"Your wedding gift. Or one of them."

He pulled you close to his side. "I thought maybe the birth control announcement was my wedding gift?"

"It was one of them," you said with a shrug.

"Are there any more?" he asked, running his fingers along the frame and looking at the selection of happy wedding photos you had chosen. 

"Yes. Two more wedding gifts. And you'll like both of them." 

"I didn't get you anything," he told you with a furrowed brow. 

You looked up into his brown eyes and at his hair, all mussed from your fingers running through it. 

"Yes, you did," you insisted, leading him to the bedroom. You helped Bradley unpack his bag while he played with Tramp. The dog was absolutely obsessed with him; you were sure he didn't miss you this much when you had been away in Annapolis. 

"Good boy," Bradley said, playfully wrestling with him on the floor. "I'll take you for a nice long walk tomorrow when Mommy's at work."

You should have known he'd be like this now, but as soon as Bradley called you Mommy, he was on you again. 

"I missed you," he whispered, pushing your cum streaked dress up over your butt and running his fingers along your back. 

When you bent over the bed for him and felt him tease his fingers along your slit, you muttered, "I should have known. Now I'll never get anything done, because you're going to be on me day and night."

"You got that right."

But this time, he was slow and methodical, getting you off with his fingers on your clit and his lips on your neck. "I'm going to fill you up again and again. And you'll take every bit of me deep in that sweet pussy until I knock you up."

Those words delivered in that raspy voice were going to make you wild every single time. 

"Bradley?" you mumbled as he pressed himself down against your back, spent but still inside you.

"Yes, my love?" he asked, his mustache brushing your ear and making you smile. 

"What's the plan for your bachelor party tomorrow night?"

Bradley groaned and withdrew his cock, using his fingers to halt his cum from dripping out of you. It was like he was pampering your body in a brand new way, massaging you to keep it inside your pussy. 

"I have no idea. I don't even want to do anything except get a few drinks at the Hard Deck and then come back home. But there will probably be strippers or hot air balloons or clowns or some shit."

He finally eased his hand away from your body, and now you were beyond exhausted. "Listen," you said with a laugh, "that all sounds fine, as long as it's not a clown stripper in a hot air balloon."

"Please don't give Jake any ideas."

"I won't. As long as you let me change into your shirt and fall asleep on you," you said, digging around in your nightstand for your new charm. Bradley helped you add it to your necklace chain, and then he was helping you get ready for bed.

-----------------------

The man wants to be a Daddy in every sense of the word. And letting Jake plan the parties seems like a terrible mistake.

PART 18

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[its-time-to-write]

I love your writing! Can I request a Jamie tartt x reader where the reader is a famous actor or musician and it’s like the team meeting them or the media finding out? Thank you!!

I loved this! Thanks for requesting!

you know, you’ll always know me

“Jamie Tartt has been spotted around Manchester with lead singer and songwriter from band Room 17,” Isaac reads aloud. He snaps the paper shut and looks at Jamie. “Oi, when did you have time to go to Manchester?”

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, mate, two nights ago?”

There’s a clamor of disbelief from the team throughout the locker room. 

Colin’s voice cuts through the din. “Mate, that’s a four-hour drive. You drove eight hours to hookup with a famous singer?”

Jamie grins. “No.”

Isaac: “Elaborate.”

Jamie replies, “Nope,” popping the “p” sound at the end. 

The boys chorus, “Aye, c’mon man, what the fuck,” right as Ted and Beard walk in. 

“What’s all the hubbub?” Ted asks. “Usually that level of resignation is reserved for one of my many, specially-tailored puns.”

“Jamie hooked up with someone famous,” Sam answers. 

Beard looks at Jamie. “Saw the papers. You’re way out of her league.”

Jamie puts his hands up. “That’s not what she said Tuesday night.”

“So you did hook up with her!” 

“Look-” Jamie replies, “she said I ain’t allowed to talk about it in the locker room and I ain’t allowed to tell just anybody. She likes things private and I don’t blame her because you lot are a load of animals.”

Ted makes a mock offended face while Beard shrugs like yeah, that’s true.

Will looks up, thoughtful expression on his face. “Jamie, she said no locker room talk?”

Jamie says, “Yeah, why?”

“I mean, we could just, I dunno, go… somewhere else?”

“Will, you fucking genius,” Colin says, and Isaac gets up to go shake Will’s hand while saying, “Everyone, boot room, now!”

Less than a minute later, everyone is crowded into the boot room. Including Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins, who are never ones to miss a good story. Roy is the only one not present, with a short “fuck off!” at Ted’s extended invitation. 

They’re all huddled around Jamie, whispering quietly amongst themselves until Isaac holds up a hand. 

“Alright! Jamie’s going to tell us how he managed to pull the lead singer from Room 17, and then he’s going to apologize to,” Isaac checks a note on his phone and reads, “Dani, Sam, Richard, and Jan Maas because he knew they had a crush on her, and then to Colin because that’s his favorite band and you didn’t say shit to him.”

“Eh? That ain’t fair! We all had equal opportunity, I’m just the only one who took it,” Jamie replies indignantly. 

There’s a “WHAT,” in unison from at least half the team followed by more clamoring. 

“Oi, oi!” Jamie says. “Pipe down, and I’ll tell ya.

It was when we went to that club last month. I was gettin’ drinks for me and Dani, and there was this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar, scribbling somethin’ on a napkin. I was gonna introduce meself, but right as I went to say hey, she stood up and knocked both drinks out of me hand. One got on me and the other got on her napkin and I said ‘sorry about your napkin,’ and she said ‘nah it’s shit anyway. Sorry about your shirt,’ so I said, ‘it looks better on the floor.’ Guess she liked that, ‘cause that’s where it ended up.”

“That was a month ago, Jamie,” Sam interjects. “How did you end up in the papers this morning?”

Jamie grins and sticks out his tongue. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Isaac smacks the back of his head and Jamie yelps. “Ok, ok, I’ll tell ya!”

The team crowds closer. Rebecca is farther in the back, and she’s seemed strangely uninterested this whole time, typing on her phone. 

“So. Turns out, she’s fit and funny, and she starts telling me she writes her own songs. And she say it ain’t a big deal, just something she does for fun, and I say I play football and it is a big deal, but she already knew who I was. Anyway, didn’t figure out who she was till after I asked her on a proper date, and I guess she thought that was cute or some shit. We’ve been sneakin around ever since.” Here Jamie smiles angelically. “I am cute or some shit.”

Ted, Beard, and Trent nod in assent and just before the team can bombard Jamie with questions, his phone dings then rings. Rebecca finally looks up from her phone in the back as Jamie checks his. 

You’re calling him, so he makes a pipe down motion and answers.

“Hello Jamie Tartt,” you say. “What are you doing right now?”

“Hey babe!” he replies, team saying silent oohs and making kissy faces. “Not much, just with the lads. Did you see the papers?”

You laugh. “Yes, I saw the papers. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it got out, and I know I’m a little late to the party, but you can tell the team now.”

You can hear Jamie’s smile through the phone as he says, “Thanks babe. Y’know they’re like my family.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod. “I do know. That’s why I’m not upset that you’re in the boot room right now and have already told them everything.”

Jamie is stunned into silence as the team whispers, “what did she say, what did she say?”

“You can put me on speaker,” you say.

Jamie does and then asks, “How the fuck did you know where I was and what I was doing? Are you psychic?”

Jamie looks up around the room and Rebecca of all people catches his eye and winks as you say, “Oh, well, Rebecca Welton and I have been close for ages. She started texted me the moment she heard you were going to the boot room. She’s known about you and me since the first night.”

The room erupts into “WHATs,” and “Holy shits,” while Jamie goes to speak again. 

“Babe,” he tries, but you can’t hear him above the noise. He pushes his way through the throng and out the boot room, Rebecca patting him on the shoulder as he goes past her. 

“Babe,” he says again, “you sure you ain’t mad?”

Now he can hear your smile through the phone. “Yes, I’m absolutely positive. You could have told them sooner. And I think it’s funny that you went to the boot room to talk about it. Rebecca says it smells worse than shit.”

Jamie sighs. “Good. Good, yeah. I’m glad.”

“Actually,” you continue, “this got me out of my writing slump. I’ve been writing like crazy every time you leave. Got half an album in the works already.”

“Fuckin mental.” Jamie shakes his head. He’s great at football, sure, but your musical talent is something else.

“Jamie?” you ask hesitantly. “I- you know I- I mean-”

He cuts you off mid sentence with, “I love you.”

You’re holding your phone with both hands now. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

Jamie shrugs, then remembers you can’t see it. “Just your voice, I guess. Didn’t want you to feel awkward about it. Know we haven’t said it yet, but I do. And now that it’s out, maybe you can come down to Richmond for a proper football game, meet the lads.“

“I’d like that,” you smile. “Oh shit- my food’s burning. I’ve gotta go. I love you!”

“Love you too,” he replies. He hands up, slides his phone back into his pocket, and turns to see the entire Richmond team crowded around the boot room door, faces pressed to the glass. Jamie rolls his eyes, flips them off, and walks away, laughing. You’re going to love them. 

[julianalvarez9]

yellow / julián álvarez

summary: your mood isn't the best when your sister, the one who almost dragged you into the etihad stadium to watch coldplay, bails in the last minute. although the show wasn't bad, the highlight of the night was someone else.

wc: 1.8k words

author's note: don't ask me how i wrote so much with the 17 sec video we got from emilia. i thought it was cute so here you go!! this is so self indulgent it's insane but I DON'T CARE kajskajsk

you plopped down ungracefully into the seat, annoyed. apart from checking that the seat was the one you were supposed to be seated at, you weren't even watching your surroundings, too engrossed in the conversation you were having with your sister.

[you] said: what do you mean you've upgraded your seat?

[you] said: what about me?

[ana] said: you don't even like coldplay!

yes, it was true: you were dragged to the etihad stadium to see the band solely because your sister, ana, who worked with the man city team had gotten ahold of some tickets, and as she didn't want to go on her own, she practically begged you to come with her. as the younger sister, you would do anything for her, so you complied. but now, with the news that she wouldn't be joining you, the idea of getting up from your seat and going home was too compelling to ignore.

[ana] said: you can't go back home, though. i came with you, remember?

you could have screamed out loud, god and the rest of the souls close to where you are forbid you, if it wasn't for the cute guy that sat beside you. you couldn’t prevent your thoughts from reminiscing about taylor swift’s lyric given the boyish look that he had, with the plain white shirt joined with a grayish jacket he was wearing. “is this seat taken?” he asked kindly, signaling to your right -where your sister should be-, and you shook your head.

[you] said: you’re lucky the cutest guy in the whole fucking stadium has just sit on your place

[you] said: otherwise i would have left already

[you] said: are you talking about rúben dias?

you huff out a laugh before locking your phone for good, and focusing on the man who was seated by your side. “my sister was supposed to be on your seat”, you clarify, waving a bit your phone in the air to explain what you were laughing about. he has a confused look on his face now, wiping away the cute smile he previously had on, and you rush to explain that he’s allowed to sit there. “but she’s clearly not, so you’re good to go”.

he’s a bit more shy this time, you notice, and his english comes a bit more rough. “i’m sorry, can you speak a bit… slower? i’m not from here, and-”. you stop him with your wavering hands, and you curse yourself out for, maybe, being too enthusiastic about it, but you were never one to avoid casual conversation. much less with a stranger this cute. “wait, where are you from?”.

“argentina” he says, and you widen your eyes in response. “argentina!” you repeat effusively, clapping your hands, and although some people turn around to see what the noise is about, you don’t really care. the sight of the boy in front of you, cheeks slightly rosy due to your enthusiasm was all you could focus on. “español, no? hablo un poquito” (spanish, right? i speak a tiny bit) you say, pinching your fingers together with a very small space between, emphasizing it’s a tiny amount, and he laughs. it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard, and you have to direct your eyes elsewhere to avoid your cheeks from hurting due to how big you’re smiling.

soon enough, the concert starts, cutting short you conversation with the handsome guy at your right. you notice, by this point, that you never asked for his name, and in return, he doesn't know yours either, so you have to swallow the disappointment of never seeing him again after the two hours are up. were you being dramatic? yes. could you ask for his name now? again, yes. why weren’t you doing it, then?

your thoughts bring you back to the etihad after having wandered away when you hear the familiar song, and your gaze shifts onto the wristband you’re wearing, that is now tinted in yellow. “i know this one! conozco esta!” you almost scream into his ear so he can listen to you, and he smiles, nodding enthusiastically. the whole stadium lights up, and it's a beautiful sight to see, how everyone has their arms up to enjoy the music and, at the same time, be a part of the yellow sea that paints all-over the normally light blue stadium.

always having protested against those who oppose filming concerts, you take your phone out of your pocket and proceed to open the camera on instagram. it’s still the first verse, though, so you wait until the all-too-familiar “and it was all yellow” line hits to start filming. the soft yellow glow that shines through the etihad takes your breath away in the most beautiful way, and even if you’re trying to avoid screaming your lungs out to the lyrics to avoid ruining the video, the impulse to do so is just too much. you don't just film the stage where the band is, but also the whole sight of the stadium, and you pan to your right side just in time to catch the beautiful stranger singing the “you know i love you so” part with the most beautiful smile on his face.

you don’t even realize when you post the story but you do, fingers still tingly from the warmth that spread through your body at hearing the words. they weren’t even his own, but chris martin’s, but still, something about him made you believe love at first sight might be a thing.

all nice things must end, unfortunately, because soon enough the once awaited but now dreaded ending of the show has arrived. he’s about to tell you something, you realize, but your phone starts ringing and the screen screams your sister’s name. he nods, encouraging you to take the call, and you do so, not before mouthing “mi hermana” (my sister) as to which he nods again, understandingly. 

you almost can’t understand her through the screams, barely a “best concert of my life!” and “they’re awesome!” being identified in the endless stream of unrecognizable words. its not long, though, until she finally tells you the information you didn’t want to hear. “i’m already in the car, where are you? thought you would’ve been seated and ready to go by now” she giggles, and you have to fake a laugh too, eyeing the beautiful man who was waiting for you at your side, while being on his phone to distract himself from spying onto your call. “yeah, well…” you try to explain, but it’s useless. “it’s late, y/n, i have work tomorrow!”. you sigh, defeated, and end the call after informing her that you would be with her in minutes.

he focuses on you now, after he sees you saving your phone into your front pocket, and his eyebrows furrow when he sees your deflated state, so different to what he had seen a couple of minutes hago. “i have to go,” you inform disappointingly, and he nods in understanding, even if you had said the sentence in english. “¿te puedo acompañar a tu auto? digo, no si te parece raro, solo-” (can i accompany to your car? i mean, not if you find it weird, just-). you find his ramble cute, although you don't quite grasp the words since he can speak so quickly in his mother tongue. still, the first part of the sentence has you nodding shyly, and you can’t thank enough these couple of minutes more that you gained by this.

you get there fast, unluckily, or at least faster than you would have made it on your own. he walks the stadium like he knows it, or has been here before somehow, and you realize you didn’t even ask him what had brought him to london, or what his job was.

your sister waves enthusiastically when you two make it safe and sound to your parking space, and your cheeks warm up a bit in embarrassment when he waves back. it feels like those rom-com movies, where the parent watches their kids by the window when they get home after the first date. “te veo pronto” (i’ll see you soon) he says confidently and you nod approvingly, although it doesn't come to mind right there that you, again, don’t really know his name, or got some social media profile of his, to keep in contact. when you realize this, he has already planted a shy kiss on your cheek and turned around, hands in his pockets, destiny unknown, at least to you.

“you’ve met julián!” is the first thing that comes out of ana, your sister’s mouth, after you get close enough to her to greet her with a hug. the tone is joyful and her eyes are glowing, but since the name doesn’t ring any bells for you, you furrow your brows in response. she looks at you strangely, but gets inside your car nonetheless, after you unlock it so you can both make your way home as quickly as possible. “álvarez?” she tries again, now with that person’s last name, you guess. still, no face attached to that name shows up in your mind, so you shake your head.

ana’s quick in getting the phone out of her bag. you can hear her typing furiously on her screen due to her long nails hitting the phone, but you tune her out, focusing on the road. the next time she talks, or rathers, signals for your attention, you're on a red light. it looks like she has a guy’s instagram open up, and you can read the “juliaanalvarez” on top, letting you know who the guy in the photo was.

you can’t quite grasp the fact that the beautiful stranger’s face from earlier was smiling widely at you from your sister’s phone, and much less, that he was wearing a man city kit on it, before the light turns green again, and you have to continue driving. “is he a part of the staff like you?” you ask, dumbfounded, and her palm hits her forehead like you had said the stupidest thing she has ever heard. “no, silly! he’s our second striker. haven’t you been watching our games?” she reprimands, and you smile awkwardly at her, which answers the question on his own. “oh, you so need to join me at the etihad next weekend!”.

the rest of the way is silent, given that you’re still trying to process the news. you still don't quite understand why he hasn't said anything about who he was, but realize that, maybe, he was more comfortable with remaining anonymous. your feet drive you mindlessly to your bed, and you’re laying on it when you take your phone off your pocket. you have many notifications on the lockscreen, given that you hadn't really paid attention to it since the show started, but the only one that catches your eye is from instagram.

juliaanalvarez requested to follow you.

[1427]

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 4)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?

Chapt. Setting: Highway outside of Atlanta. 

Chapt. Warnings: degrading and sexist language, degrading behavior, season 2 Daryl, smut, oral (m receiving)(kind of) weird. Just weirdo perv (out of desperation) Daryl. 

Word Count: 3200

A/N; Daryl’s POV 😩🤷‍♀️ 17+ mdni

masterlist

Been keepin’ Merle’s stuff pretty well hidden. Guess I should probably just get rid of it, right? But I can’t. S’not mine to get rid of. So I just hide it. Separate bag from the rest of his meds, all the way at the bottom of a backpack, stuffed under the seat of my truck. 

Beatle says she’s been sober off spazz shit for three years. Pretty sure three years ago s’when I met her though, so I’unno how she figures that. 

But now we’re ditchin’ the truck and I gotta find a way to carry it without Beatle finding it. Don’t even have time to be upset about my truck. Had it for at least the last ten years. Loved this thing like it was the only thing I had. Basically was for a while. 

Takin’ Merles bike. It’s got some dumbass Nazi shit on it, but ‘m not complainin’. That shit don’t matter anymore. Neither does bein’ upset over a truck that’s not gonna do me any good without gas. 

Pack myself two bags. One goes with Beatle in Dale’s RV, the other is the pack I’d had stuffed under the seat. Spazz gets hidden underneath a few shirts, smokes, the couple sips left of girlwhiskey, and the rest of Merle’s scripts. Stuff I don’t trust Beatle with.  

I think she knows, too. She doesn’t say it but she gives me a look when I tell her ‘m holdin’ onto it. I offer her a whole cigarette. All for herself. And it shuts her up enough not to push it. 

Don’t know if I like when she’s happy or not. Kinda makes me feel sick so I try not to think about it. Dunno. Whatever. Don’t got time to think about that shit anyway. S’always somethin’. 

Don’t really even got the time to think about what a shit show the CDC was. Just gotta keep movin’. Guess the plan is Fort Bennet? Don’t know. Don’t care. ‘m just goin’. 

It’s nice to be back on a bike again. Can’t feel nothin’ but the vibrating underneath me and the air in my face. Can’t hear nothin’ but the engine. By myself. Like all this shit hasn’t happened…

No use in thinkin’ ‘bout it that way, though. Has happened. And I ain’t gonna be one of those sorry sacks that wants to pretend shit ain’t the way it is. That’s one thing I like Beatle for. She don’t pretend shits gonna go back. Don’t miss nothin’, ain’t lookin’ for no one. Far as I see it, she’s happy mostly. Guess it’s easy when someone’s takin’ care of everything for ya. Me. Giving her my smokes and buildin’ fires for my damn self, thinkin’ everything tha’s mine is hers. It ain’t. 

Other people makin’ plans. Other people findin’ shelter. Other peoples food. 

Too many people in this group ain’t pullin’ their own weight. It’s gonna catch up sooner or later. Beatle’s a weak player. Can’t decide if I should help her out or not. Can’t decide if I should protect her or not. Cuz she don’t want it, she don’t think she needs it. But she’s gonna need it. Sooner or later. 

Cuz I know I hate her and all that. Dumb fuckin’ bitch for sure. But after what happened at the CDC? Thought we were gonna die. Thought she was gonna die. Fuck. I’unno. Guess I felt somethin’. 

I’m in between knowin’ it and hatin’ it. It can be both right? Cuz it’s definitely both. One more thing I gotta care about. Real fuckin’ stupid. 

We’re only on the road a few hours before shit blows. Literally. Dales radiator. Good ‘n done. Then more bullshit happens but ain’t that the way shit is now?

A whole herd of ‘em come through and everyone’s fine. Andrea’s havin’ a panic attack ‘bout the geek that almost ate ‘er, Carol’s kid run off into the woods, and T-Dog’s all but bled out. But to me? Basically fine. No one’s dead or nothin’. 

Don’t know where Beatle was when the herd came. But she’s fine too, and any worryin’ I’d been doin was a waste of fuckin’ time. Not gonna waste any more of it bein’ mad I was worried in the first place. That I couldn’t think ‘bout anything else. Just images of her stupid happy face gettin’ ripped apart. Guess I care now. At least ‘bout her not bein’ dead. ‘Bout her bein’ here.

She’s standin’ outside the RV with me, sharing a cigarette cuz I don’t know how else to tell her I’m glad she’s alive. Can’t stop lookin’ at her. She’s either ignoring my staring or pretendin’ I ain’t doin’ it, and ‘m grateful. Don’t wanna talk ‘bout that shit. Just wanna look at her, and fix all those images in my head. Her face still happy and perfect and smilin’ at me like it wasn’t bein’ eaten by monsters a few minutes ago. 

I feel sick. Somethin’… different. 

“Can I just hug you, please?” She asks like she’s been waitin’ to say it. 

“Why?” I squint at her, dragging the smoke. Kinda want to - kinda mad she asked instead of just doin’ it, “Since when do you ask permi-“ I’m cut off by her body wrapped around mine. All four limbs holdin’ on like I’m keepin’ her anchored to the world. 

I hug her back, arms pulled tight around her. Why am I doing this? What the fuck is this? Goin’ fuckin’ soft for some dumb little girl. I can hear Merle laughin’ at me from inside my head, and I drop Beatle back down to the pavement. 

“I’m glad you’re alive.” She says, and I look down at her. Now she’s all covered in the gross shit I’m covered in. She doesn’t seem to care. Doesn’t even seem to notice. 

“Yeah?” I say at her, cuz I don’t know what else to say. Can’t tell her Im glad she’s alive. Can’t give her that. I hugged her back, that’s enough. She should know. 

She nods, smiling that stupid fuckin’ smile that I’m startin’ to like. ‘Fore her face starts wrinklin’ up somethin’ nasty. There it is. She looks at me, then down at herself. “What the fuck, Daryl?” 

Me?! “‘Pleeeease can I hug you, Daryl?’” I mock her. 

“I was worried!! And then you’re alive and okay and I  didn’t have time to look at you covered in guts and shit!” She squeals. I swear she knows it irritates me. I can see her goin’ to punch me in the arm so I let her, then pull her into another hug. 

Grabbin’ at her head to bring it close to my chest, covered in week old decaying monster meat, “C’mon, Beatle. Gimme a hug!” She’s tryin’ to fight it but ‘m stronger. 

She bends her knees and slips down and out of my arms. The blood on my hands making her too slippery to hold onto. She starts runnin’. I run after her til we get to the side of the road and she tries to hide underneath the trunk of a car crashed into the rail. 

Maybe this ain’t the time for fuckin’ around, but it don’t matter. Not when I finally got her cornered. The look of fear in her eyes does somethin’ to me. Not real fear.  Naw, cuz she’s smilin’. Cuz she’s laughin’. Just excited that we’re both still breathing. Still, smile on her face and laugh in her throat, she’s cowering beneath a cars trunk, beggin’ me to stop. The beggin’s doin’ somethin’ to me too. Fuck. 

I pick her up, slingin’ her over my shoulder, she yelps. Don’t she know how this shit works yet? “Fuckin’ quiet, Beatle. Dumb bitch.” I slap her ass once and she fuckin’ yelps again. “Wha’ did I just say?” And I slap her ass again. This time she’s quiet. 

Shit, that worked? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. My dicks hard. 

I’unno if it’s cuz I never carried a girl over my shoulder like this, cuz I spanked her couple times, or cuz she listened. My dick gets even harder and I realize it’s definitely fuckin’ all of it. But mostly that she listened when I told her what to do. Maybe I should tell her what to do more often. Fuck. ‘m not helpin’ myself, or my problem, at all. 

I dip my head down to smell the sick I’m covered in to make it go away. It works. Even with her ass next to my face. So close I could bite it. For fucks sake. I put her down but she doesn’t run away this time. We walk slowly back to the group. Not sayin’ nothin’. Me, cuz I’m trying to focus on the smell of rotten flesh and definitely not Beatle beggin’ me to stop. Definitely not about what her face looked like when she felt my hand on her ass.  

Wonder if she’s quiet cuz she’s thinkin’ about it too.

 Wondering what she’s thinkin’ about and tryin’ to will away a stiffy. Fuck this fuckin’ high school bullshit. Like she reads my mind, I feel her needy little fingers snake into my hand. For a second I think maybe I’m smokin’ a cigarette I don’t remember havin’ but ‘m not. She’s just tryin’ to hold my hand. 

At first it feels nice, and then I feel sick again. Too many questions unanswered. Too much shit that’s already happened. Can’t trust her. So I shake her hand off, “Stop.” 

“Fine. Fuck you.” She stomps away and back into the RV. I’unno what the fuck’s wrong with me that it makes me smile. Do I like when she’s happy? Shit, I dunno. If I did, wouldn’t I not like it when she’s upset? So why does her being mad at me do it for me too? 

✨🏹

Whatever. 

She comes with me to go look for Sophia. Andrea stood up like she was gonna come too, but once Beatle and I are standin’ next to the RV Andrea doesn’t follow us out.

 We don’t stray too far from the road. It’s dark, and mostly just came out here to help ease Carol’s mind. ‘m definitely goin’ soft. But I’unno. Hurts to watch people lose stuff. Their families. Hurts to watch people hurt. 

Gonna hurt Beatle in a fuckin’ second if she doesn’t shut the fuck up. We’re walkin’ through the woods. At night. She’s gotta know this shit by now. “Beatle, keep your fuckin’ voice down. Please.” Did I just say please? Fuck me. 

“Did you just say ‘please’?” Fuck. Me. 

“Shut up.” 

“Don’t think I know how.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” She laughs, and it makes me smile. And that makes me feel sick to my stomach. Again. 

Her voice cuts through while I’m makin’ myself even sicker thinkin’ about it, “You wanna play another game?”

My eyebrows raise in her direction, “Yeah, that went real well for ya last time.” 

“Nevermind.” Her face falters and she crosses her arms across her chest. 

“What, you don’t wanna get half naked and cry again?” And for fuckin’ once I wish Beatle had somethin’ to say back. Some smartass shit that isn’t even funny but she definitely means it to be. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t say anything. She just lets my question hang in the fuckin’ air and suffocate me. Cuz now I’m thinkin’ about her half naked and crying and my fuckin dicks hard again. What is this shit? Rock hard cock every time I pick on her now? ‘m not gonna be able to do this. She’s gonna notice. Where the fuck is a guy supposed to jerk off and relieve some of this shit? 

On her fuckin’ face.

Shit.

She’s been quiet for too long and my brain won’t stop. It’s just getting worse. Images of her now, her face covered in my cum, her lips humming together making little bubbles with it, smiling. Shit. 

Beatle, say something. Anything.

“How big’s your dick?” Not. Fucking. That. 

She listens… right? She wants it, right? Why else would she ask that? Now, when it’s just the two of us out in the woods in the dark. She wants me to show her. 

So show her.

“Beatle.” My voice is low, barely there. Just a rasp of a word. 

She turns around, ready to explain herself before she even looks at me, “I-“ 

“C’mere.” If I don’t cut her off she’s gonna say she was just jokin’ but we both know she ain’t jokin’. She wants ta know. So she’s gonna know. 

Feel like I can see her blushin’ in the moonlight as she walks toward me, even though I can’t. Just know she is. Smile on her face like I ain’t about to wipe it off with my cock. Shit, hard as a fuckin’ rock right now. I rub my palm over the length of it, and I watch her eyes follow my arm down. Watch ‘em get bigger, wide and nervous, and it makes my dick twitch against my jeans. I pull out a smoke and light one, for a second I see a disappointment in her face, thinkin’ maybe I’d just called her over to share a smoke. Naw. “Down on your knees.” 

And Jesus Christ, does she kneel so fuckin’ fast. She stares straight ahead, and somethin’ comes over me. Can’t wait. Don’t want to. Don’t need to. Beatle does what I ask, at least when it comes to this. Like a good little slut would. That is what she’s good at, ain’t it? 

So maybe it’s a little fucked up that I grab her head and force her against the rough fabric of my jeans. Pushing my cock into her cheek as hard as I fuckin’ can. Holding her by the hair and rubbing her face on me. 

But this little bitch moans. At first I wasn’t sure, but she keeps fuckin’ moaning. She likes this. Somethin’ close to a laugh escapes my throat, past the cigarette between my lips. I take it with my fingers, letting one hand go from her head, the other hand pulls her back to look up at me. Her expression absolutely blown. She just looks at me for a second, before putting her face back on my cock on her own. It’s not the same amount of pressure but it still feels fuckin’ good. And somethin’ about her doin’ it on her own. Like she can’t fuckin’ help it. Like she needs it. 

She’s starts to lick at the fabric right where my head is and my dick spasms again at the sight of it. This time she can feel it underneath her mouth. She smiles up at me, smirkin’ down at her. Putting the cigarette in my mouth, I drag it, before bringing it down to her lips. A little reward for listening. 

She drags it once and I drop it on the ground. Beatle says “Thank you.” In the smallest voice I ever heard come out of her mouth. Fuck. I could fall in love with this Beatle. It’s just your dick talkin’ Dar, don’t get crazy. 

I grunt a laugh and start to unbuckle my belt. Unbutton my pants. Barely have my cock in my hand ‘fore her mouths around it. I pull her back by her hair, sharply. She winces in pain and reaches up to her head where I’m holdin’ on. Her eyes shoot up to look at me. 

God, fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have that image burned in my brain for the rest of my life. Her face, all discomfort and contempt because I won’t let her touch me. Like she’s fuckin’ dying for it. “Nah, keep your mouth shut Beatle. Gotta learn ta do what yer told.” 

She nods, and closes her lips. Looking from my eyes back down my body again. I lean back, takin’ myself in my hand and pressing my cock into her face. 

For a while I just rub myself all over, letting her feel the weight of it. Letting her know just how big it really fuckin’ is. Lifting it off her face and smackin’ her cheeks. Makin’ her flinch, her eyes squish closed but I press my hard cock against her eye and push up forcing her eyelid open. Fuck. I do the same thing with her lips. Smushing and rubbing the head of it into her lips to open them, I fuck against her mouth for a second. Beatles groaning and moaning but she doesn’t open her mouth. Somethin’ about it makes me need to cum. Now. No more fuckin’ around. “Open up.” 

She does. I spit into her open mouth, and she moans again, without swallowing it. Like a good slut. “Fuck, Beatle. Shit. Now stick your tongue out.” 

She does. I can see my spit falling off her tongue and I quickly catch it with my cock, before smearing as much of the slick spit from her mouth onto me. Taking myself from the base, holding hard to cut off the circulation. Always feels better when I do that. Rubbin her tongue with my cock til I can’t fuckin take it anymore. I’m about to fuckin’  cum. I pull away for only a second, my breathings all fucked and I can barely speak, “Close yer mouth.” She looks confused for a second but closes her mouth. Good. Was about to smack her. 

My left hand finds a place on the back of her head again, gripping into her hair to hold her in place. I push my hips forward and put the whole length across her face. My other hand pressing myself down into her from above her. And I fuck myself on her face. Grunting and sloppy and desperate to cum. Never done this before, shit, does anyone do this? But fuck, it’s so fuckin’ hot. Her lips and her cheeks and her eyelids and her nose all squished and being fuckin’ ruined by my cock. Shit.  Fuck. 

Right as I’m about to cum I put both hands around her head and hump her face like… I don’t even know. I feel fuckin’ insane, but she’s still moaning at the feeling of being used. Not even in a way that should be enjoyable to her. 

I don’t think I’ve ever cum that much in my whole fuckin’ life. Most of it ends up in Beatle’s hair, but there’s still a whole lot of it on her face. I mess with it for a second. Swirling my puffy post-nut dick in it before I get oversensitive. 

I put myself away, and sit down on the ground next to Beatle. Still in the exact same position. I let her kneel there, don’t tell her she can move or nothin’. Guess that’s why she doesn’t. Don’t think she can open her eyes either. S’funny. 

Relighting the short I’d dropped to the ground, I pull a bandana from my pocket. “Is it big, Beatle?” I ask her while I wipe only her mouth off, and put the cigarette between her lips. 

She sucks on the filter, and smiles. “Yep.”

Eventually I wipe off her eyes too. Can’t do anything about her hair though, so I promise to find her a hat from one of the cars on the walk back. 

And I don’t let myself think about what this might mean. Who cares? I don’t. Don’t think Beatle does neither. We’re just goin’. 

pt 5

A/N: Yeah okay,  I know. Daryl’s all back and forth. Does he not give a shit about Merle and Beatle? Does he know deep down they never did anything together? Or maybe he just wasn’t thinking about it at the time? He’s confused, guys. He also really doesn’t have all the information (Eventually he’s gonna ask but first we have to deal with Sophia. Sorry. I don’t want to either.)

[drewharrisonwriter]

On the Mend - Ch 1: Not Today

No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Read this on AO3 | On the Mend Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: You were having a really, really bad day in the midst of the scorching Austin summer, and seeing your ex boyfriend, Joel Miller, is the last thing you need.

Word count: 829

A/N: (EDIT 09/17/2023) Okay so I heard ya'll! LMAO and decided to turn this into a mini-series. Not sure exactly how things will play out for these two, but I've written a part 2 and decided to call this mini-series On the Mend. LOL hope you like it. This is a one-shot for now, not sure if and how to continue this. I just got this idea recently and wanted to write it.

The merciless sun bore down as she parked her car. The Austin summer had been relentless, and today, it seemed as if even the universe was conspiring against her. 

It had been a thoroughly miserable day. Work had been a disaster; she'd spent hours redoing half of a project her co-worker had botched because she was still hungover from the previous night. 

The Texas summer heat, relentless and unforgiving, only added to her misery. As if fate had a personal grudge against her, she realized she'd left her house keys on her office desk when she was already halfway home. 

She sighed in defeat and turned her car around to retrieve them. All of this was compounded by her lingering morning sickness, a term she found deceptive as it had resurfaced with a vengeance upon entering her third trimester. She had naively believed she had bid it farewell for good when she'd crossed into the second trimester.

"Whoever called it morning sickness should be shot for lying," she grumbled, attempting to quell the rising nausea that threatened to surface.

Dressed in biker shorts and an oversized t-shirt she kept in her car for emergencies, she got out and beelined to the frozen aisle for a popsicle stick and savored the brief respite offered by the melting ice cold treat.

She sighed in relief and grabbed a pushcart. Her only mission in the store was to grab some Oreos, pickles, and frozen pizza to satisfy her cravings that were so intense, she literally cried in the car on her way over. 

As she rounded a corner in the store, she was suddenly face to face with the last person she wanted to see: Joel Miller. 

Great. She thought to herself. Couldn't have been on a better day. 

Ah, Joel fucking Miller.

The man who had once been the love of her life.

The same man who had taken her on the most memorable first date she'd ever experienced, and had filled the past five years of her life with the kind of joy she'd never known before.

But this was also the man who made it clear to her months ago, after five whole years of being together and living together for three, that he has no plans of marrying her and having a family with her. 

She and Joel were arguing at the time when he said it. 

--

In the midst of their emotional clash, she couldn't help but speak her mind, her frustration boiling over. 

"Joel," she began, her voice trembling with pent-up feelings, "if you get mad at every damn little thing, what's going to happen if we were married? That's not the life I want, and it's not the husband I need."

Joel's eyes flashed with anger as he retorted, "Of course it’s not! And who told you I was going to marry you?" His words cut like a knife, and she felt her heart shatter into pieces. 

"We never talked about it, what put the idea into your head?" he continued, his tone harsh and unyielding. 

Her jaw went slack in shock, as tears welled up in her eyes as she choked back her emotions. 

"But I thought we--," she whispered, her voice barely audible, she couldn't even continue her thoughts when Joel cut her off.

"No." He barked. "You knew from the start that Sarah is my priority. Always was and always will be. I'm not going through the whole marriage thing again." And have our hearts broken all over again when you realize that we're not what you want, he wanted to add. But instead he allowed the silence to linger. 

Silent tears slipped from her eyes but she did not respond. 

Instead she stood up and went into the closet and started packing. So be it, she told herself as she zipped the last of her bags before going into the bathroom to hastily shove her toiletries into another bag. 

She stopped when she pulled one of the lower drawers open. The positive pregnancy test sticks under her box of tampons glared at her, and for a brief moment she contemplated telling Joel. But when she heard the front door slam shut, she pulled herself together and shoved the sticks in the bag as well. 

--

That was seven months ago and she hasn't seen nor heard from Joel since. 

Their eyes met for a moment before his gaze fell upon her very round baby bump. Acting on instinct, she hastily placed her handbag in the shopping cart, a futile attempt to hide it from him, though it didn't do much given the fact that she looked like she had tucked an entire watermelon under her shirt.

She grimaced, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. When she locked eyes with him once more, she began walking backwards, her eyes not leaving him and before he could say anything, she had rounded the corner and all he heard was, “Nope. Not today!”

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[fem-the-artist]

I don’t know why, but I have just such a specific HeadCanon for Timmy’s dating history as he grows up, technically it’s related to my magic future AU, but it can also just be taken as not 



 So I guess here’s all his past relationships in order of when I think they happen as well as the reason they broke up and how long they dated for

1. Cindy vortex.  I count the times they hung out and went to the dance and all that stuff during the Timmy Jimmy power hours as of them dating. It was long distance, but trust. Anyway, incredibly short-lived. Because even though they were both interested in each other for a little bit they were so young and immature that that interest only lasted for so long A great example is in the third Timmy Jimmy power hour and all interest they pretty much had for each other had dissipated.

2. Chester Mcbadbat, hear me out Chester is gay as fuck especially for Timmy, they dated in late elementary school for only two weeks and then broke up because Timmy forgot they were dating in the first place. and Chester didn’t talk to him for a week after that but they’re cool now. 

3. Remy Buxaplenty, the whole relationship was a Yiiikes. I like to think this was around Lake middle school early high school so about 13-ish , they got along. They had a great time but Remy has a pension for jealousy and envy, and the two of them we’re just not good together. They broke up and it was messy.

4. Trixie Tang, started dating around 15.  she started to get less dependent on her friends approval at this point which is how this happened. And although Timmy isn’t popular, he does throw awesome parties, so I feel like this is part of the reason she gave him a chance because like he doesn’t want to be invited to his parties there infamously awesome every time. But aside from that, they got along surprisingly well the reason they broke up is because a trixie realized she was a lesbian and at that point Timmy’s egg hasn’t cracked yet. so no real room for argument he was really happy that she figured this out about herself, but also incredibly heartbroken because he really liked her. He went on a little bit spiral after this because depressed teen angst. 

5. Remy again.  within the following summer after his break up with Trixie. He would date, break up, get back together with Remy three times.  also, Remy has a tendency to love bomb.  so whenever a break up was his fault he would pretty much shower Timmy with gifts until he took him back.  not at all healthy but they’re teenagers, so what are you gonna do

6. Tootie (I realize she doesn’t have a last name). They’re 17 during this one.  dated for five months which to Timmy’s credit is the longest relationship he’s had so far.  broke up because they realize they were acting the exact same way they were when they were friends, and they realize neither of them actually have romantic feelings for each other. (cough cough a little bit after this tootie realizes she’s aroace and only thought she had a crush on Timmy because early 2000s if girl like boy it Hass to be romantic cough)  They are however, trauma bonded, and stay best friends 

7. Jimmy neutron.  young adults at this point took forever for them to get together because Jimmy couldn’t except his feelings for the longest time, and Timmy didn’t realize he had any. dated for two years broke up because their lives were going in different directions and work got in the way. 

To elaborate a little more this is when Timmy started his training to become a fairy warden, and that took up a lot of time that he couldn’t expand on hopping between dimensions

They mutually agreed to try their relationship again when they have more of their lives figured out 

As of within the AU in the current timeline, a.k.a. new wishes taken place 

Timmy and Tootie still best friends got platonically married because they both wanted children and they trust each other more than anyone else, and now we have Tommy and Tammy as a result, they’re more like roommates than husband and wife, but they do coparent

(Timmy might be potentially casually seeing Jimmy at this time, but I haven’t fully decided) 

Oh yeah also Timmy’s egg officially cracked at 18 and he came out as bi gender he/she pronouns 



[katz-chow]

Coming from puff puffs blog 🤧🤥 hope you don't mind 😝🙈🙉 ur also totally gaining a new follower..

WHAT ARE YOUR HEADCANONS ON SOAP? 🥰🥰🥰 unless you've already done this before then I am so sorry 😓

relationship with soap headcanons

warnings: sfw, fluff, some angst, relationship arguments, family trauma mentioned, religious trauma, homophobia, bad dad

a/n: my fav cod man is soap so this took my top priority!!! i think about this man a lot, 09 and reboot version. reboot is my fav though, realistically, he's who i would actually get with. here’s all the things i’ve thought about him, there’s probably more tbh… OK OK HERE :))

childhood hcs

johnny soap mactavish comes from a large family of 5 siblings, he's the second oldest. it's elsie, him, blair, callum, and olivia.

growing up in a family of mainly girls got him on that respect women juice. he would always have to make sure his younger siblings are ok and aren't you know, being bullied. his parents were adamant on 2 year age gaps between them all.

his cousin, jack, was an sas operator and that was what made him want to join. they had to call security forces to arrest him out at some point because he kept sneaking in to watch them do stuff lol

elsie left for uni with her bf to live in soho when johnny was 16, the same year he would talk to recruiters around his hometown, driving hours and then getting rejected the same day due to his age

9th grade (year 10) chemistry got him obsessed with stem and its *explosive* results. he aced chemistry and then took advanced chemistry and physics just because he loved it so much

after this, as soon as he turned 18, he went to sign his papers THEN graduated school (he's just like me fr). his mom was so worried for him, especially when her sister told her about the danger that jack would get himself into. in the end, he promised he'll always call her and his siblings

his dad's an ass, hes an alcoholic, a cheater, a *bitch*... he would always take the kids to church on sundays and twisted the religion into a reason for his behavior. claiming that johnny's mom being at home was just "their culture"

she makes a killer shepherd's pie though

always had had some sort of love-hate relationship with the catholic faith. on one hand, it was nice to know there's always at least someone watching out for him, but after hearing the constant belittlement from his father, claiming he wasn't "manly enough" for not willing to give his life up in the service, he started to resent the “all merciful”.

he ended up blaming god for all his faults, letting him take accountability. this especially happened when he got diagnosed with adhd when he was 17, his dad didn’t believe in mental health. his mom was only a bit better about it, they both refused meds for him.

he's bisexual, leans towards women though. found this out after a truth or dare game in junior year (year 12) and some beers in a closet

at one point, callum acccidently let it slip at dinner when johnny had first moved out that he had met a cute guy and their dad screamed and yelled at the whole family, especially their mom, about "raising a fucking whore of a son, dragging the family down to shite"

blair called and told johnny a few days later and johnny rushed his work as quickly as possible and begged his chain of command for a few days off to go back home to his family

his family gets loud…like really loud. there’s 7 people what do you expect?

it gets especially bad when it’s sunday morning and you gotta get 7 people awake and looking their church best for an hour and a half 😔

johnny is the quickest everything there is, which has its downsides too. he could run and swim the fastest in the family, but he was also the quickest eater…meaning he’s on dish washing duty. he’s quick at that too so by the time everyone’s finished, he’s washed all the other dishes that took to make dinner

broke his arm chasing a cat through someone’s yard (he was 14)

had a goat scream and kicked him because he wanted to give it a hug

he got a part time job at a local bakery in 10th grade (year 11). the pay wasn’t much but neither was the work really. olivia, who was 9 at the time, made him promise that he’ll get her a doll to have tea with. her tea set had 4 cups but only one of her, so she must get another one to join her! he kept his promise; he ended up getting three dolls for her

he can make amazing soda bread and brioche loafs now too, still keeps a starter from the owner of the bakery to this day

he had a mountain bicycle that he would take everywhere. had room behind his seat for packages and his backpack, which he would tie down. that thing had such a loud bell too, would ring constantly to “let people know hes coming and get ready”

was terrified of selkies for some reason, always had the window closed and made callum sleep by it while he slept by the door

wasn’t much of a troublemaker, but would get into trouble with his adventurous heart.

got lost in the woods once and after a while of fake courage, he sat down and cried until elsie found him. he was 20 yards (13 meters) away from the clearing 😭😭

laugh at that guys, mf was 15

personality & relationship hcs

johnny is such a fun lover. he’s handsome yeah, but what makes ppl flaunt over him is his humor. he’s what jessica rabbit said “he makes me laugh”

such a charismatic and charming person, gets it from his dad. he could talk about just about anything, also the type to strike up a conversation with a stranger at the grocery store. then end up with their number and a date or helping them dog sit

this isn’t always a good thing though, one time before he was medicated, he would talk on and on, his story becoming incoherent due to the amount of self-interruptions he made, that a group of guys got so annoyed at that pub, they punched him.

he was young, 19, and couldn’t fight, so he didn’t win and came back to the barracks with a nasty black eye

he likes to be the big spoon, has to hold something in order to sleep

feel like he’s the type to wrap his arms around a pillow and lay on his stomach to sleep

speaking of sleeping, he HATES sleeping with socks on. he tried it one day and he just shivered at the feel of it, woke up and his socks were missing (he found them under the bed)

i also feel like he sleeps like a log, unmoving once he finds his comfort, i also think it's because he had to sleep in the same bed as his siblings at one point and he didn't want to wake them by moving, so he got accustomed to being a still sleeper

one time he accidentally got into a fight at a bar when a guy kept being misogynistic and was arrested and kept in jail for the whole night until one of his civilian friends bailed him out

johnny's the type to race you in the rain to the car. again, he's quick so he's always ahead of you but then he slips from the rain and ends up all wet and muddy and in the car.

his favorite thing to do is hear you laugh. he'll do anything to hear you laugh.

whenever you're sad, he'll purposely stub his toe or trip down the stairs or make you kiss his "owie" (a papercut) to get you to cheer up. like yeah it hurts like a fucking bitch but seeing you sad hurts more than a silly tumble

number one date event is city exploring and hopping. like cafe hopping, pub hopping, museum hopping, restaurant hopping, anything that makes you get up and get going with time to sit and chill at the same time.

feels like he can eat a lot, he's the type to eat your food if you end up not liking it or being too full

when he gets home from missions and the initial excitement of seeing you dies down, he also dies down and nap for hours until it's the middle of the night and he gets up to eat something.

he loves naps. feels like he needs a nap time every day if it was possible

he's a very kind lover, he's easy going so its not hard that sometimes people take advantage of this and push his buttons until he can't take it anymore

causes a huge blowup because he can have a nasty temper whenever he bottles stuff up and pushes things aside

not a physical manifestation of anger, but definitely a verbal anger, will say things he doesn't really mean just to say it and realize right after the words leave his lips that he fucked up

but he'll stake out in front of the guest bedroom in which you've locked yourself in until you come out and he gets the chance to forgive you

the type to stand in the rain and hold a sign saying sorry right outside your window, a very cheesy romcom style (gaz made him watch them)

he loves you more than anything and loves you even more than you can keep up with him and laugh at his jokes, no matter how awful they are

he wants 4 kids by the way

[birdiewriteslit]

wildest dreams

luke hughes x abigail abernathy

masterlist

okay ik i haven’t updated this in a literal month so im finally feeding you my apologies for the wait

“Get up.” Jack said, grabbing the pillow from underneath Luke’s head and throwing it across the room.

Luke groaned, planting his face into the mattress. “What do you want?” he asked curtly, voice muffled by the sheets.

“It’s 1pm, we have practice in an hour, you’re a mess, I’m mad at you,” Jack listed, yanking the comforter off of his body.

Luke shivered and rolled over, shielding his eyes from the sun streaming in through the window. “What have you got to be mad about?”

“I haven’t heard from Abigail since she left, which, by the way, I know was your fault. Plus, you’ve been moody ever since she did, even though you’ve got no right to be.” Jack paused, taking a breath. “And I know what happened on New Year’s.”

Luke sat up on the bed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “Then you know I’ve got some right. She’s the one who doesn’t.”

Jack rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Fine, be an idiot. See if I care. Don’t take it out on Abigail when all she did was like you. You’re probably not used to girls liking you though.”

“She doesn’t like me, she’s fucking Rudy,” Luke mumbled.

“You really are an idiot. Seriously, get out of bed or I’m leaving without you.”

Jack left the room and Luke let his head fall into his hands. He grabbed his phone from the bedside table, staring at Abigail’s smiling face on his lockscreen, and feeling worse about the whole thing.

He listened to the voicemail, and he felt sick to his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t have yelled at her, but seeing her with Rudy set something off in his mind.

Granted, he had a jealousy problem since they were kids and Abigail would come to Toronto talking about all of her Boston friends, but things were a lot different now.

When Abigail got a job on Shameless, Luke couldn’t be prouder, and when it came out, she was so excited to watch it with him.

It was just her and him that night at the lake, the others having gone to bed. “I can’t watch this with my parents,” Abby had said, clinging to Luke’s arm in excitement.

He figured that meant she was topless in a scene. He’d seen Shameless before, and he couldn’t lie about being a little excited about her debut. He was 17, after all.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was a full on sex scene between her and a costar, who still comments on her Instagram posts.

That was the moment he realized that things were changing in Abigail’s world. He thought about how other guys would be looking at her, thinking about her.

Then Outer Banks came around, and she started dating Rudy. He had to act like he liked the guy, but in reality he hated the way it made him feel seeing Abigail with another guy.

For a whole year he had to watch her with him. She even brought him to the lake once, and then after that trip, he broke up with her over Luke.

So, naturally, he didn’t like it when he saw Abigail was hanging around a guy like that again.

He replayed the voicemail. “Fuck,” he said out loud. “I fucked up.”

abyabynathy

tagged jamie.drysdale, philadelphiaflyers

Liked by jamie.drysdale, _quinnhughes and 1,967,346 others

abyabynathy baby’s first flyers game

View comments

trevorzegras the plot thickens

jamie.drysdale omg that’s me

abyabynathy @/jamie.drysdale sniped

cam.york we have fun

abyabynathy @/cam.york so much fun

philadelphiaflyers Have we converted you to a flyers fan??

abyabynathy @/philadelphiaflyers you gotta win first

jackhughes @/abyabynathy SHOTS FIRED

nhlbruins @/philadelphiaflyers Back off.

_quinnhughes why are you everywhere besides vancouver

abyabynathy @/_quinnhughes some day i might make it there

jackhughes this is interesting

trevorzegras @/jackhughes VERY interesting

abyabynathy @/trevorzegras stop conspiring

user1 what is going on

January 8, 2024

messages 10:36 pm

jack: if you’re trying to make luke mad it’s working

jack: but i can tell he feels guilty for whatever he did

jack: it’s actually a weird combination and i don’t like it

jack: pls fix it

abigail: i tried to fix it but he’s an ass idk what to tell you

abigail: i’m not trying to make him mad but it’s not my fault he freaks out when i breath near anyone else

jack: why the fart are you in philly then

abigail: bc i wanted to see my friend jamie

jack: and you had to do this in the midst of this drama

jack: you and luke need to figure this shit out cuz i’m tired of you hurting each other

jack: shit pisses me off

abigail: okay i admit i knew it would make him mad but he fucking screamed at me and hasn’t spoken to me since his tantrum

jack: he will he just needs time to cool down

read 10:43 pm

—

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle

[themultifandomgal]

Harry Styles- Midnight Feast

Harry and I have been together for years. We started off as childhood friends, my parents and I moved next door to Anne, Gemma and Harry when I was 10. We ended up going to the same school together. When we were 16 Harry and I started dating. I went with him to his X-Factor audition, moved to London with him when we were 17. I went to collage then uni to then I traveled around the world with Harry after One Direction split up. I got a job as his assistant media manager. In 2022 we married after a 4 year long engagement and now with Harry taking a brake from touring we decided now would be the right time to try for a baby. Thankfully for us it didn’t take too long and I fell pregnant within 4 months of us trying.

I’m now 6 month pregnant and both of us are so excited to welcome a baby into our lives. Thankfully I barley had any morning sickness, however I'm so hungry, like all of the time. Today I ended up going to the nearby bakery to by cakes and biscuits to help subside my cravings. It's now 9pm and I'm lying in bed with Harry, wrapped up in his arms. His hand gently placed on my bump. I sigh feeling hungry, even though Harry and I had our tea only an hour ago

"What are you thinkin’ ‘bout love?" Harry asks rubbing his thumb over my bump

"About how I could eat a whole fucking cow" I giggle. Just as I say that my stomach growls

"You hungry little one?" Harry asks looking at my tummy "shall I get you and mummy something to eat"

"It's ok. You've had a long day writing. Go to sleep, I'll get myself..." I start to get out of bed but Harry pushes me back down gently

"I'll get you something to eat. You relax"

"H it's fine I...."

"Let me spoil and look after my wife" he leans down and kisses my lips sweetly

"Ok" I watch Harry practically jump out of bed and run out of the bedroom making me giggle. How did I get so damn lucky?

In no time at all my husband has reappeared with all of my craved foods, chocolate cake with strawberries and cream. My stomach growls again making Harry laugh

"Ok ok I'm coming" he hands me a the plates as he gets back into bed

“Your letting me eat cake in bed?” I raise any eyebrow. Harry hates food in bed, I often get scolded for bringing food upstairs with me.

“Just don’t drop any. I'll change the sheets tomorrow" I give him his plate and we both tuck in

"I asked your mum if the hunger would go, like the sickness did, but she said it's only going to get worse. Even after I have the baby I'll be hungry because of feeding him or her. I'm gonna be huge"

"No you won't" I look at my husband with raised eyebrows “even if you are your pregnant”

“What about if I don’t loose the baby weigh”

“Then I will still love you because you will have created our baby. Kept them safe for 9 months and worked so damn hard to look after yourself for those months. I have loved you from the age of 15 and I promise that won’t change ever”

“15? We stared dating when we were 16”

“I was to shy to tell you that’s why Gem had to set us up. Now get that cake down you and feed my child”

The following morning I wake up to an empty bed, but the smell of bacon immediately makes my mouth water. I get out of bed and wrap my gown around my body. My stomach growls as I descend the stair

"I know little one. I'm hungry as well" I rub my tummy and enter the kitchen

"Good morning, I thought I'd let you sleep in this morning, so I've cooked you some bacon and eggs"

"Thank you" I give Harry a smile and kiss his cheek "this one is feeling hungry, let me know when I woke up this morning"

"Well then. You best sit at the table and I'll bring over your food" I do as Harry says and I sit down at our kitchen table. He puts a plate down in front of me and once again my stomach growls

"Told you” I chuckle “I hope they look like you"

"I hope they have your heart, your kind smile"

"I can't wait for next 4 months to be over"

"Neither can I" Harry kisses my forehead then joins me, sitting opposite me with the same food on his plate. My life will soon be complete and I can't wait.

[miracleonice87]

17 w barzy pls! i feel like he only ever gets smut or fluff written w him

from m's midnights prompt list

warnings (cw / tw): miscarriage, pregnancy loss, mourning... this one's a doozy, folks 😔 please don't read if these subjects are triggering or sensitive for you

word count: ~2,100

17. Bigger Than The Whole Sky

---

It started as the most typical Isles weekday gameday. Mat woke up an hour before morning skate, kissed your forehead, and rolled out of bed as you snoozed away for just a few more minutes, the early-pregnancy exhaustion hitting you hard the last several weeks. He made himself a coffee, you an Earl Grey, and carried both back to the bedroom where he found you just beginning to stir. You both sipped at your drinks as you went through your morning grooming and threw on athleticwear. Soon, after a playful kiss in the hallway, you were both headed out the door, Mat to the rink and you to the Lees’ to workout with Grace in their home gym. 

At least, with the intention to workout with Grace. 

Instead, your world as you knew it and your greatest dream came crashing down during the short drive to the Lee house.

What started as light cramping quickly gave way to sharp, stabbing pains that had you doubled over in Grace’s doorway by the time you reached their stately home. She knowingly shuffled you inside, alarm bells blaring in her head even as she used her calmest tone and did everything she could to soothe you. Her babysitter quickly led the girls away from the scene, distracting them with an invitation to play princess dress-up in the toyroom down the hall, away from your intensifying sobs.

As Grace guided you toward her car in the garage, your hands gripping hers with knuckles white as you leaned into her for strength, she noticed a figment of every expectant parent’s worst fear… the seat of your grey leggings stained with an unsettlingly substantial amount of blood. 

“Is this it?” you cried. “Is this what it feels like?”

The pit deepened in her gut, her maternal instincts screaming yes. 

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” she answered softly. “We’re gonna go find out, okay? Together.” 

“A-and Mat…”

“I know. Of course.” 

You reached the passenger door, and with one hand Grace opened the adjacent rear door, grabbed one of the girls’ pink travel pillows, and tossed it onto your seat in the hope that it would somehow make you more comfortable on the drive to the hospital. She got you settled into the passenger seat and seconds later, was already rolling down her driveway at a speed faster than she ever hit on a normal day, making an impossible phone call via her hands-free navigation. 

At the other end of that call was her sweet husband, who thank god had gotten caught up talking to one of the assistant coaches about gameplans and hadn’t yet stepped onto the ice for morning skate as Mat had minutes ago. 

Anders looked at his phone with a furrowed brow and a knot in his stomach… Grace never called him when she knew he was at the rink.

“G? What’s going on?” 

That’s when she told him it was you, not herself, who was the reason for the call. 

“Shit… is she…”

“I don’t know. She’s in a lot of pain, Anders.” Which he already knew from your muffled sobs on the speakerphone. He’d never heard you cry before. “She’s bleeding. Get Mat off the ice now and tell him to meet us at the hospital.” 

“Fuck. Okay. Be careful – I’m-I’m hanging up.” 

“Okay. I’ll call you.”

“Yeah.” 

Anders tapped the red button and sat in silence at his stall for the briefest of seconds, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath through pursed lips, absolutely dreading what he had to do next. 

He made his way down the tunnel, stopping at the bench instead of immediately hopping out onto the ice. Lane noticed and caught his eye. Anders closed the short gap between himself and his head coach, ducked his head, and explained the situation as quietly and briefly as he could. Lane’s expression went cold, and he offered a slow, single nod, then cleared his throat. 

“I’ll do it if you want me to, but I think you should maybe be the one to…”

Anders cut him off, shaking his head. 

“No… no, he should hear it from me.”

Lane set his jaw, clapped the captain’s shoulder, and fixed his gaze back across the ice with a pained exhale. 

Anders shuffled to the end of the bench at its opening and waited a few moments for Mat to skate past him on a loop. When he did, he called, “Barz.” Hoarse, somber, short. The younger player immediately skidded to a stop, sending snow flying from beneath his blades. 

“What’s up?” he asked, panting. 

Anders swallowed, tucking his chin to his chest for a moment. 

“Leezy? What’s up?” Mat repeated, brow furrowing. 

Anders met Mat’s eyes again and sighed. 

“You gotta go to the hospital, bud,” he said softly, unable to keep his voice from shaking. “Grace just called, and-”

Mat didn’t even let Anders finish his thought before he jumped the threshold and ran down the tunnel, shedding his gear as he went, trying to hold it all in his hands and beneath his arms. Anders followed close behind. 

“Barzy, bud, are you good to drive?”

Mat nodded furiously without so much as a glance Anders’ way. 

“I’ll drive you if you want.”

Mat shook his head. 

“You call me if you need anything, you hear me?”

He was nodding again, and simultaneously busting through the doors of the locker room, where he threw all his gear into his bag, pried off his skates, and tugged on his crewneck and sweats in the blink of an eye before heading for the exit with just his keys and his phone… but he stopped in front of his friend before he could make it that far. 

Anders could see the red already rimming his eyes, and he felt his own throat constricting as he heard Mat’s breath coming in short, stuttering gasps. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, man,” Mat managed between breaths. 

All Anders could do was grab Mat in a crushing hug, the sounds of him clapping Mat’s back echoing in the empty locker room. 

“It never is. I’m sorry.” 

No words appear before me in the aftermath

Salt streams out my eyes and into my ears

Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

'Cause it's all over now, all out to sea…

The ultrasound screen had been turned off for at least half an hour by now, you and Mat left alone by the doctor for nearly as long, but you still lay flat on your back, wet cheek pressed to the ugly pleather exam table, willing the black screen to turn back on and tell you something different than it already had. Willing this nightmare to end, willing yourself to wake up, willing it not to be true, to be some giant, cruel misunderstanding. 

No words came to your lips, though thousands of them hummed incessantly between your ears, intrusive thoughts even louder than they’d been all morning in the now-silent room. You heard Mat sniffling behind you, felt his lips kissing the back of your hand every few seconds. Before he’d arrived, you had thought you could not possibly ever feel the sting of devastation more acutely than when the doctor had uttered the words “I’m so sorry; you’re miscarrying.” But good god, the second Mat ran through those sliding glass doors in an utter panic, hair wild no doubt from pulling it throughout the entire drive to the hospital, eyes and nose and cheeks pink from crying, lips parted and shoulders rising and falling as he attempted to catch his breath… you realized how wrong you’d been. 

You could handle the pain this would inflict upon you. But seeing Mat suffering just as much… that made you want to crawl in a hole and never see the light of day again. And since that moment, after he’d gathered you in his arms, you’d tried your damndest to avoid making eye contact with him altogether. 

He was sad because of you. Mourning because of you. Depressed and angry and sick and childless because of you. 

And that was simply too much to bear. 

So it was nearly an hour since he’d gotten there and you had yet to look him in the face again. And while looking him in the face was killing you, you not looking him in the face was killing him. 

Nobody won in this situation. It was a lose-lose-lose. 

“Honey, look at me. Please look at me?” Mat begged from your side. 

Unsurprisingly, he was met with silence, and no motion.

“It’s not your fault. Alright? It’s not your fault, babe,” he said firmly, squeezing your hand. “I need you to hear that.”

More silence. It wasn’t even that you wouldn’t speak, it was that you simply couldn’t. 

Mat sighed, using his free hand to swipe at the never-ending tears streaming down his cheeks. Then, he trailed his palm along the length of your arm. 

“You can be as quiet as you want for as long as you want, baby, because this is an awful fucking thing that’s just happened to us, to you,” he spoke, voice wavering. “But I’m gonna keep talking because I’ve gotta make sure you know that this isn’t because of anything you did, or didn’t do. Like the doctor said, these things happen for reasons we’ll never know. And I’m not upset with you. I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you. I love you.” 

You closed your eyes, swearing your eyelids were suddenly outfitted with weights. It was all sinking in… the reality of it, the heaviness, the emptiness. You just wanted to sleep.

You finally opened your mouth, feeling how dry and cotton it had become. You didn’t have the strength to debate him on why this had happened, how it had to be your fault somehow, but you mustered enough to give him what you knew he needed. 

“I love you,” you whispered, unnerved by how weak and small your own voice sounded in the sterile room. 

Behind you, you heard Mat rise up from the uncomfortable vinyl chair. He bent over you, pushing some hair back from your damp face, and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, relieved and grateful to have gotten any response, any sign of human function, from you at all. Then, he patted your shoulder and said the very thing you’d been dreading.

“Come on… let’s go home.”

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

You were bigger than the whole sky

You were more than just a short time…

Mat didn’t know how he’d found himself in the nursery or how long he'd been there, but after laying with you in your bed and softly stroking your hair as you finally fell into a much-needed slumber, that’s where his aimless wandering had eventually led. He didn’t bother to turn on the light; the afternoon sun streaming through the still untreated windows cast a golden glow on everything in the room. 

It had once felt so cozy, a representation of all that the two of you had to look forward to in the weeks and months to come. He loved sitting in the room all alone when he arrived home from a road trip, late at night when you were already sound asleep, dreaming about who your baby would look like, what they would sound like, who they would someday grow to be. 

With you losing your pregnancy so soon into it, the material items in the room were still few. As he ran his fingertips along the covers of the gifted copies of “Goodnight, Moon,” “On The Night You Were Born,” and “Love You Forever,” and over the stuffed Sparky the Dragon next to them on the shelf, his eyes filled with fresh tears, realizing that he would never get to snuggle his first baby earthside, read to them with Sparky tucked in their lap. He leaned wearily against the railing of the crib he had just put together mere days ago, and as he looked toward the tiny “13” jersey laying on the still plastic-wrapped mattress, a sob escaped his throat and he let himself fall completely apart for the very first time, without needing to remind himself to hold it together in your presence. He turned and sunk down to the floor, leaning against the solid oak frame of the crib, and buried his head in his hands, crying as he never had in all his life.

Eventually, there would be conversations about the next steps to take for your health, whether or not to try again, and when, and whether to leave the nursery as it was or pack it up until, hopefully, you were pregnant once more. But for now, there was just sheer sadness as you and Mat grieved the little one that just wasn’t to be. 

And I've got a lot to pine about

I've got a lot to live without

I'm never gonna meet

What could've been, would've been

What should've been you…

[reetreets]

Ninã - Miguel O'Hara / Teen Reader

THIS IS NOT A SEXUAL RELO ITS MIGUEL BEING A PARENT OKAY

summary:

“Niña?” Her heart stops at the voice in front of her. Theres only one person in the whole multiverse who calls her that.

“What the fu-hell are you doing here?”

She looks at him with open eyes, slowly rimming with tears.

“I-uh..I could ask you the same thing?” She says nervously.

OR:

reader is 17 and pregnant and wants to get an abortion but doesn't want anyone to know but miguel finds her at the clinic and takes care of her.

3920 words

Two lines.

Her eyes frozen, straight on the lines that scream "biggest mistake of your life" in her ears. A sob escapes through her throat and she lets the tears fall uncontrollably as she covers her mouth, slapping herself internally

"How could you be so stupid?" She asks herself.

She stays in the stall for about an hour, crying and cursing to herself until her legs start cramping up and she stops crying. She decides to go send in the report to Miguel, he’s been asking her for it for a while now.

Her and Miguel never really had the best relationship. She was always getting into trouble and he was always cleaning up after her. He would always give her the most criticism when giving briefs. Whether she’s being risky on missions, not thinking straight when fighting, putting herself into danger and thus stressing him the fuck out.

She opens the door to find the brooding male standing at his monitors. ‘Come on, just hide it. just for a little bit.’ She thinks to herslelf. She takes a deep breath before walking in.

“Hey Miggy” she smirks, knowing he hates that nickname. “I got that report you’ve been wanting.” she said, waving it in the air.

He turns away from his monitors to see the report and walks towards her before taking it from her hand. “I asked to see this 2 days ago.” He says while flipping through the pages and glancing at her. He notices her puffy eyes and red cheeks. ‘Is she crying? No, knowing her she’s probably high.’

As he thinks to himself, he questions his decision to recruit such a young, stupid teenager.

“Dios mío- are you high?” He asks sternly, looking her straight in the eye.

“What? No! What makes you say that.” She says, taken aback.

“Well your eyes and cheeks are red and puffy.” He replies, pointing at her face with the papers.

“I’m not high.” She says. “Besides, where would I even get good grass around here.” She joked.

“You’re lying. Fucking Hobie again isn’t it?” He says, muttering swear words in spanish.

“I’m not lying! Breath test me right now.”

“No i’m not bothered just- get out please. I really don’t wanna deal with your bullshit today.” He says, holding the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Alright alright.” She says, walking backwards to the exit .“See ya Miggy!” she laughs as he rolls his eyes, and turns back to the monitors.

But as soon as she leaves, her smile drops, and she lets out a massive breath that she didn’t know she was holding.

“Should I keep it?”

“Adoption is still a thing right?”

“How much does an abortion cost?”

“Oh God what are my parents gonna say?”

These thoughts swimming in her mind as she walks through the crowded halls of the Spider HQ.

“Ay, watch the arms fam.” She hears a voice, sounding like Hobie, but she can’t even process it right now. Her body is in autopilot, until she feels something grab at her wrist and takes her out of her mind.

“Hey, are you okay?” Gwen asks, looking at her with concerned eyes. She realises all her friends are in front of her

“Huh? Oh, yeah I’m great. Just peachy.” She says, putting on a fake smile.

“But..you’ve been crying?” Pavitr says softly, approaching her and putting an arm on her shoulder. The rest of the Spider-Teens circle her, worry filling their eyes.

“Whats wrong?”

“You alright fam?”

“You can talk to us”

She hears these words swinging around her ears until she pulls away from them and laughs.

“Guys seriously, I’m fine. Nothings wrong, I don’t know what you’re so worried about.” She says while walking away while putting the hood of her jacket on and shoving her hands in her pocket.

“I need to get rid of it.”

-

She enters the clinic, nervous with her hand clutching her purse. She walks up to a counter and looks at the nurse, “Hi, um…I have an appointment at 4?” She says softly.

“Yes of course dear, we just need you to sign these forms. Have a seat over there and we’ll call you when we’re ready to being the procedure.” The nurse says, smiling softly at her.

She nods, taking the papers and a seat in the waiting area. As she starts reading the papers, she’s thinking about how she ever got herself into this position. She feels her heart in her ears as she writes her signature for the fourth time.

“Niña?” Suddenly her heart stops at the voice in front of her. Theres only one person in the whole multiverse who calls her that.

“What the fu-hell are you doing here?”

She looks at him with open eyes, slowly rimming with tears.

“I-uh..I could ask you the same thing?” She says nervously.

“I donate here all the time. I just came to finalise some paperwork. Now you.” He said, crossing his arms.

“I…uh…” No words came out of her mouth. She sat there, silent, looking down to her feet.

“Wait.” He said, uncrossing his arms, and slowly approaching her. “Are you…pregnant?” He said, his accusatory tone being replaced with a more concerned one.

She sees him take the seat next to her, but doesn’t dare to move. Instead she lets the tears roll down her cheeks, soaking the papers as she covers her face with her hands.

“Oh niña, ¿por qué no dijiste nada?” He said, removing her arms and pulling her in for a hug. She reciprocates and wraps her arms tightly around his neck, falling into his embrace. She didn’t realise how much she needed this, having someone to care for her. To support her through this whole situation.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Her words muffled with her face in his chest. He rubs circles around her back, rethinking his choices that made her so afraid to talk to him, that she kept a whole pregnancy to herself. “Does anyone know? Do your parents know? Or your friends?” He said, as he pulled away from her and wiped the tears off her red cheeks, giving him déjà vu from their last interaction. ‘Is this what she was crying about?’ He thinks.

She shook her head. “No. No one knows. I didn’t want to tell anyone. I just want to get rid of it and forget this ever happened.” She said, looking down, while fidgeting with her fingers. He nodded in response.

“Are you gonna tell anyone?” She said softly, as she finally looked up to meet his eyes. For once, the angry eyes were gone, and were replaced with orbs full of concern and worry.

“Not if you don’t want me to. Do you have anyone to drive you home?” He asked, with one hand falling onto his lap and the other falling onto her shoulder.

“No.” she said, “I was kind of gonna catch a cab.” She laughed, looking to the side.

He shook his head again. “No, I can’t let you do that. I’ll drive you back to HQ.”

“A-Are you sure? I mean I don’t want to bother you-“

“Miss L/N?” the nurse calls her. “We’re ready when you are.” She says, smiling at the young girl.

She looks back at Miguel with fearful eyes and he takes his hand in hers. “I’ll be here when you get back. If you need anything, just send one of the nurses to get me, okay?” She stays silent and nods before getting up and following the nurse to the room.

He sees her walk away and slumps in the chair, holding his face in his hand. He shakes his head internally to himself. Jeez he was acting like this girl was his own daughter. He found himself constantly glancing at the closed door, where she lay.

-

She changed into her medical gown and exited the bathroom, the knot in her stomach slowly growing.

“Lay down here and spread your legs out, we’ll start off with the anaesthesia.” The doctor said.

She followed her instructions and laid down with her legs spread. The doctor injected her and she slowly found herself loosing feeling in her private area.

“We’ll begin the procedure now. Clamps please?” The doctor said. As they began the procedure, she found herself thinking about the life she could have led, had she had this baby. She realised that she’d been calling them ‘it’ the whole time she knew she was pregnant. She thought about how her ex-boyfriend always talked about having kids. Wanting kids. How she didn’t tell him. Not that he’d care anymore. Once he found out she was a Spider-Person, he didn’t want anything to do with her and her dangerous lifestyle.

She was crying. A feeling off loss filled her to the bone as she saw the doctors poking around. She covers her mouth with her hand to hide the sob threatening to escape her mouth, and the other to grip the sheets she lays on. Squeezing her eyes closed as the tears ran down into her hair.

She feels a hand holding onto her shoulder

“Do you want me to call him to come inside here?” The nurse said.

She nodded quickly. She really didn’t want to bother him, but she was hurting. she needed his support. She needed him to tell her everything was gonna be fine. That she was making the right decision.

- “Mr O’Hara?” the nurse called out.

As soon as he heard his name, he stood up and rushed in front of the nurse.

“Is she okay? Are there any complications?” He said hurriedly, trying to look inside the room, even though the door was closed.

“She’s doing well physically, but…I think she needs someone to hold her hand. Give her some support, you know?”

He nodded and the nurse opened the door to reveal a hurting, young girl crying on the bed, while the doctors did the procedure. His heart broke at the sight. The girl he knew, who was always confident, always sassy, always upbeat and positive, was crumbling down right in front of him.

He rushed to her side and sat down in the chair next to her bed. He took the hand covering her mouth and the hand holding the sheets and took them both in one hand. The other went straight to her cheeks, wiping her tears away. “Shh, shh ninã, its okay, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay. You can squeeze my hand if you need to.” He said calmly, while taking the strands of hair covering her face and tucked it behind her ear.

And she squeezed his hand like he was the last drip of water she would ever drink. She let the sobs out of her stomach and he rubbed her head soothingly, occasionally moving to wipe her tears and letting out supportive words here and there, some even in Spanish.

“The procedure is complete. You can change back into your clothes and get the final paperwork from reception.” The doctor said, before removing her gloves and walking out of the room, the nurses following closely behind her.

As soon as they left, Miguel got up to sit up on the bed and held her as she cried into his shoulder. He closed his eyes, imagining if it was his daughter in this situation. She was kind of like his daughter. She had the same ambitious personality. The same optimistic outlook on life, always active and always making trouble. He just wanted to support her. Make her feel better. So he held onto her, tighter, afraid to let go one more time.

After some time, her cries calmed, and the anaesthesia wore off, so she moved off the bed and went to the bathroom to change back into her clothes. She shimmied her underwear on, but fatigue hit her like a truck, and for the love of God she couldn’t get her pants on. She whined and groaned as she tried to get her pants on but failed.

Miguel heard her sounds and knocked on the door.

“Ninã? Are you okay?”

She whined once again. “They won’t go up.” she said, slurring her words just the tiniest bit, but this didnt pass through Miguel’s head.

He walked in and saw her struggling to put her pants on. “Ay querida, let me help you.” He said, rushing to her side. He takes her pants and pulls them up slowly, afraid to hurt her. He notices her dazed figure and as soon as he pulls her pants up the whole way, he puts an arm on her back and leaves the room, grabbing her purse in the process. He never once leaves her side, all he wants is to help her.

They enter reception and he gently sits her down on one of the chairs. She lets her head hit the wall as she sees him walk towards the reception desk and ask for the paperwork. As she sits, waiting patiently, she keeps replaying the look on his eyes when he found out she was pregnant. He was not in the least bit mad at her, or disappointed or anything. All he did was care for her. Nurture her, like she was his own child.

She imagined her family life to be different. If maybe in one universe, Miguel actually her dad, and how he would probably care for her like this all the time.

“Ninã? Wake up, we have to go now. Let’s get you back to HQ and to a bed.”

She nodded slowly and got out of the chair. He held her waist and helped her to leave the clinic and right into his car. Which happens to be a pickup truck.

‘Typical Miguel. Of course he would have a pickup truck’ She chuckles to herself.

He helps her into the seat, even putting the seatbelt on for her, tucking her legs into the seat. He wants her to be comfortable, and does everything in his power to do so.

“Is this okay?” He asks, looking into her glassy eyes.

She gives a soft smile and replies. “Yeah. Thank you.”

He smiles back and closes the door, making his way to the other side of the car.

As they drive she finds herself looking out the window, passing multiple families with children, how happily they race around the park. How their ice-cream touches their noses, leaving a light mark. How the smiles of the children never fail to brighten someone’s day. She starts contemplating her decision to get rid of the child. Regret starts flowing through her brain.

“Do you think I made the right decision?” She asks softly, still looking out the window.

Miguel sighs, glancing at her then back at the road. “Yes Querida. I think you have too much going on in your life right now. With being Spider-Woman, a student, and a daughter to your own family, a child of your own would be way too much. And this is just my opinion, but I think you’re too young to be a mother. You’ll have plenty of time for that when you’re older.” He says, never skipping a beat.

His words sink into her brain and she realises that he’s right. She is too young. She has too many responsibilities of her own right now. If she has a child, she would have to give up everything. Even being a spider.

She blinks her tears away and lifts her legs to rest her chin on her knees. ‘Yeah, he’s right.’ She thinks to herself, as she slowly drifts off to sleep.

Miguel glances at her and sighs. The worry never stopped. For the rest of the trip, he kept glancing back at her. He never stopped to make sure she was comfortable. That she was okay. He understands how shitty it must be for her right now. She doesn’t need him to be frantic and mad at her. He’s only mad that she didn’t come to him sooner. She was prepared to go through this without telling anyone. She was going into this by herself and that made him angry. Not at her, but himself. He was meant to be a leader. Someone people look up to. Someone people can come to when they need help, or have a concern. Especially the ones so young, like Gwen, Miles and Pavitr.

‘No wonder they always ask Peter and Jess for backup, and not me.’ He thinks to himself.

They arrive at HQ and he notices how she’s still deep in slumber. He opens her door and carries her in his arms.

He makes his way to his personal room and sets her down in his bed, ever so gently, as not to wake her. He tucks her in bed and tucks her hair behind her ear to reveal her face. He notices the puffiness and redness surrounding her face has decreased. He pecks her on the forehead and moves out to his office.

He takes his place in front of his monitors, as his suit appears and his normal clothes diminish.

“Lyla?”

“Sup Boss?”

“Keep a screen of the security cameras in my room on next to me.”

“Keeping an eye on your adopted child? So adorable.” She says, before disappearing and the video recording pops up next to his work. He sighs, questioning his sanity when he was programming her to be the sassiest person he knew.

As he continued his work, his eyes kept glancing towards the monitor next to him. He never stopped thinking about her. He wouldn’t admit this out loud, but he did feel like a father. He remembered the times when his daughter would get sick. How he would care for her, and make her soup, and take her temperature, and hold her in his arms- ‘stop it.’ He thought to himself.

He shuts those thoughts off immediately. Cracking his neck and rerouting his focus onto his work.

Hours pass and he realises that she probably hasn’t had anything to drink or eat the whole day. He decides to finish this report and get some food from the cafeteria. He makes his way through the crowd, finding people moving out of his way, cowering in fear. He sighs, ‘I really need to work on how I look to these people.’

As he orders his food, he feels an arm fall around his neck.

“Ay big boss. How’re ya?”

Hobie. For the love of God why him.

He sighs and turns around to find all the other spider-kids surrounding him. He raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Nothin’, just wonderin’, you know anythin’ ‘bout the little one? She’s been dodging us this whole day and we fink you’re the only one who’s gotta know.”

“We’re just worried about her. We saw her crying when she came out of your office.” Gwen says.

He looks down at her and thinks for a moment. He remembered her words.

“I didn’t want to tell anyone. I just want to get rid of it and forget this ever happened.”

He sighs, “She’s sick. Stomach bug or something.” He says vaguely, while turning around and picking up the tray of food.

Before they can respond, he walks away, making a path towards his dorm.

As he opens the door, he finds her sitting up scratching her head. ‘She must have just woken up’. He says.

“Hey Ninã. How are you feeling.?” He says, sitting next to her on the bed, and putting the tray on the table.

She groans. “Like shit.”

“Yeah I thought you would. I brought you some food from the cafeteria. I’m thinking you probably haven’t had anything to eat or drink all day.”

“Ugh I love you you’re the best.” She said, while grabbing a burger from the mountain of food and taking a big bite of it. She sighs in content.

With her mouth full of food, she asks, “Why did you order so much food?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He said sternly, his fatherly senses kicking in. “Well I didn’t know what you liked, so I just got a bunch of food and thought I’d let you choose.”

She nods while taking another bite, and letting out another sigh. “you’re the best. did I tell you that?”

He laughs, “Yeah, you did.”

He watches her stuff her face with all the food he brought.

An idea pops into his head.

“Hey uh, if you’re up for it…I have a couple movies in the other room. We could have a movie night?”

She widens her eyes, “Oh my God YES!! Please can I invite the others? Oh they would love it so much. Please please please!” She said, dragging out the last word as she pouted.

He sunk his head down. He didn’t like the idea of the kids in his private room, but still. His main concern was her. “Yeah. Thats alright. Did you want me to call them? Or-“

“No need, already messaged them.” She smiled, putting her phone down.

Within the next second, a group consisting of Hobie, Miles, Pavitr and Gwen bust into the room. Hobie came with a bag full of her favourite snacks.

“Hey! You’re okay!” Gwen says, racing to go hug her. “We heard you were sick with a stomach bug. You doing okay now?”

She goes to hug her back. “Yeah, I’m feeling much better now.” She says, smiling at Miguel. Silently thanking him for staying quiet about the whole thing. He understands, and smiles in return.

The others go to hug her and light conversation passes through the air. He decides that it’s best to leave the kids to themselves and makes his way to the door.

Until it slams open again.

“Hey!! Heard theres a movie night going on here. Decided to come. And look who I brought!!” Peter says excitedly, while holding Mayday up for everyone to see.

Miguel groans as he lets him pass through.

“You can’t help it man. Just accept it.” Jess said, making her way through and patting him on the shoulder.

He turns to face everyone as they buzz with excitement.

“So what movie are we gonna watch?”

“Oh!! We should have a marathon!”

“Star Wars!! Has to be Star Wars.”

Miguel chuckles to himself, watching the kids’ enthusiasm hum through his room. He lets his eyes sit on her smile. He’s glad that she’s feeling better.

“Alright alright. I’ll put it in.” He says. A grin slowly forming on his face, he hides it.

After he selects the movie, he makes his way onto his bed, sitting next to the girl. She moves over to give him more room and she sets her eyes onto the screen

As the movies progress, the light conversation and debates about who’s a better character, Luke or Hans, reduces to light snores. Miguel finds his eyes setting on the girl, as her head falls onto his shoulder. She’s half asleep, barely paying attention, but awake enough to smile.

“Thank you.” She whispers, her eyes never leaving the screen.

“For what?” Miguel questions.

“For today. For helping me. And supporting me. I don’t know how I would have done it without you.”

He smiles down at her and wraps an arm around her, bringing her closer, so her head falls onto his chest and she falls into a deep slumber.

“Anytime, Ninã.”