#basically don’t tell someone who’s struggling to eat at all

[bamber344]

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

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heyo! this chapter is a fucking MONSTER. biggest one yet. but that's what i get for trying to condense a character's entire backstory into one chapter lol. I'm sure you can guess who's backstory it is ;P

Enjoy!

CWs: living weapon whump, minor whump, whipping, electrocution, stress positions, non-con body modification, lab whump, starvation, controlling whumper, vomit, various other bodily fluids

Subject G-5: 'Magpie'

Maggie sighed, sinking further against the cushions as Diego’s hand massaged preen oil through the feathers on her back and wings, straightening them out and cleaning any debris out of them. After having to suffer through trying to do it herself with her limited human flexibility for the first nine months of her life, having someone else to help her with preening was something she would truly never take for granted. It wasn’t just her wings she had to worry about; the feathers trailed all the way down her spine, coalescing in a small, useless tail at her coccyx. Basically, it was a whole lot of work. At least she was blessed with a preen gland, producing her own preen oil and saving her the struggle of having to find another way to maintain her feathers’ quality, despite the fact that other people tended to find it…offputting. 

Well, Andreas was an asshole anyway, so what did she care about his opinion? Diego didn’t mind, and Hex never knew anything different. They were the only ones that mattered.

Maggie heard the door to Hex’s room open, and she plodded over to them, taking a seat on the couch near Maggie’s feet.

“Hey Diego?” she asked. “Can we get McDonalds for dinner?”

“That depends,” he hummed. The sound instinctively made Maggie relax. “Have you finished your studies for this week yet?”

Despite the fact that she was out of Maggie’s line of sight, she could almost feel Hex’s pout. “Maggie didn’t finish hers last week, but you still bought her chinese food when she asked!”

“Hey, I’ve been busy working at the construction site, making money so we can eat! I don’t always have time to read books,” Maggie complained. “Also, Diego loves me.”

“Actually, last week you skipped out on studying to try and go after Jordyn again, and she kicked your butt so bad she broke three of your ribs.”

“‘Scuse you! I kicked her butt! You weren’t there, you didn’t see!”

“I’ve gotta give that one to Hex, babe,” Diego said. “I did tell you not to go.”

“Whatever. Either way, I sorted it. She won’t be coming after us.”

“Anyway, that’s besides the point,” Hex said. “The point being: is McDonalds on the table tonight?”

“...Actually, I could go for some McDonalds right now, too,” Maggie muttered.

Diego laughed. “Fine. But that’s the last time I’m ordering takeout for the rest of the month!”

Hex protested, and Maggie smiled as the conversation between her sister and her boyfriend continued on above her. A comforting warmth settled in her belly; pride and happiness in herself for succeeding in giving her little sister at least some semblance of a normal childhood. It wasn’t perfect by any means – it couldn’t be, what with the memories of the things they suffered in the facility still plaguing them every day – but like this, Hex at least got a chance. She got to bicker with her sister without getting beaten for it, got to skip out on her studies to play video games like a normal kid. Granted, Maggie herself was still learning just what ‘normal’ was. Despite the difference between their physical ages, she was only four months older than Hex, technically speaking. Having Diego around was certainly helpful, though. Without his help, the two of them would probably still be the naive, bumbling idiots they’d been the day they broke out of the facility.

Maggie closed her eyes, relaxing into the couch and reminiscing on how she got to where she was today.

—

5 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie sat on the end of her bed, shivering. She didn’t know why. She wasn’t cold, not with her wings wrapped around herself protectively like they were. There was nothing to be scared of in the immediate vicinity. And yet, this horrible, pervasive anxiety just wouldn’t leave her alone.

It had been there since this afternoon, when Father screamed at and hit her for flying over the obstacle course instead of running through it. She didn’t understand why it mattered if she could run well when she had a perfectly good pair of wings on her back to help her fly. It was stupid. Father was stupid. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but something just wasn’t right about this whole situation.

As far back as she could remember, Father had been there, helping her recover after waking up from her supposed ‘accident.’ He was trying to help her become a superhero again, or so he said. Magpie just wasn’t sure that she believed it. If he was trying to help her, why would he turn around and hurt her in the same breath? Why did he want so much control over her, to the point where he refused to let her leave the facility, no matter how much she begged? It just didn’t sit right.

Really though, what was she supposed to do? Her memories were completely gone. She had no knowledge of who she used to be, or how the world worked. She had no choice but to just stick with Father until she learned more. Then, she would make a decision on whether or not to trust him.

She occupied herself by running her fingers through the feathers of her wings, straightening them out. Their softness was reassuring, but it did little to settle the quiver of unease that had sunken all the way down into her bones. 

The door opened, and Father walked in. Magpie instinctively hopped off of her bed, ready to defend herself. 

He studied her, eyeing her up and down, before sighing. “Come in, Hex.”

Someone entered the room behind him. Magpie gasped.

The girl was a lot younger than her, shyly hiding behind Father’s leg. Her short-cropped hair was black, just like Magpie’s, and she shared her tan skin. In fact, the girl was practically identical to her aside from her age and the lack of wings on her back. Who the hell was she?!

Father turned to the young girl. “This is the older sister I was telling you about. Her name is Magpie. You’re going to be staying with her from now on, okay?”

“What is this? What’s going on?” Magpie asked.

Father sighed again. “I’m truly sorry, I should have told you this earlier. Hex here is your younger sister. She was injured in the same accident as you, and only woke up a month ago. Since then, she’s been going through the same rehabilitation program that you did, and is finally well enough to join you properly.”

Magpie had absolutely no memory of a younger sister, but… what else could this girl possibly be? She looked exactly like her. It wasn’t like she had memories of anything else either, to be fair, and from the look on her face, Hex was thinking a similar line of thought.

Father placed a hand on Hex’s back and pushed her further into the room. A spark of protectiveness instinctively rose in Magpie’s chest.

“Get to know each other. Another bed will be brought in shortly.”

With that, Father left. Magpie and Hex stared at each other.

“I didn’t know I had a big sister,” Hex said. Her eyes kept flickering to Magpie’s wings. Magpie smirked.

“Well, I didn’t know I had a little sister, either.” She sat back down on the bed, motioning for Hex to join her. “You don’t remember anything either, huh?”

Hex shook her head, tentatively climbing up next to Magpie. 

“Even if I have no memories of you, it’s nice to finally not be alone. No one else… gets how hard it is, not knowing anything. Y’know?”

Hex hummed in agreement, but she seemed a bit distracted. “Can I… Um… Can I touch your wings?”

Magpie chuckled. “Sure. But be gentle.”

Hex reached out, carefully running her fingers along the feathers. Magpie tried not to shiver. The touch was gentler than anything she’d ever felt from another person before, and honestly, it was starting to get her a little choked up, especially with the cute little smile on Hex’s face as she did it.

There was something on the back of her neck. Magpie frowned.

“Hey, let me see the back of your neck?”

“Hm? Okay.”

Hex shifted a little to allow access. Sure enough, there it was. Starting just below her hairline, there were a bunch of lines making up a weird rectangle, and below that, there was writing.

G-6: ‘HEX’

PROPERTY OF PRECINCT 23

That same old dread settled into Magpie’s gut. Something just wasn’t right. Hex seemed oblivious to it, but somehow Magpie knew. Was she even really her little sister? Or was this just another lie from their ‘Father’?

There was one thing she was certain of, though. Little sister or not, Magpie had to protect her. They were in this situation together, and she wouldn’t let that old man hurt her like he had hurt Magpie. She swore it.

—

9 MONTHS AFTER WAKING

Magpie rolled her shoulders as she walked down the corridor, having finished her combat training for the day. Anxiety broiled in her gut for her upcoming exam tomorrow. It wasn’t that she was scared she would fail – there wasn’t even a chance of that. It was more a general excitement at the prospect of finally being allowed to go outside.

The past few months had been difficult, full of harsh training and harsher punishments, but as soon as Father gave her free access to the outside world, Magpie was gonna grab Hex and make a run for it. Their freedom from this underground hellhole was so close, she could almost taste it.

The thought of Hex made her sigh. The girl was struggling under Father’s ‘tutelage.’ She didn’t have the same distrust of him that Magpie did. She hung on his every word, followed every order to the letter, and the slightest hint of a smile from him was enough to have her practically melting. And yet, her young body just couldn’t live up to the demands being placed on her. He was being a lot gentler with her than he had been with Magpie, but she didn’t doubt it wouldn’t be long until his limited patience ran out.

Honestly, what was he expecting? Magpie was a full-grown woman of 25, but Hex was barely even a teenager! Of course she couldn’t complete all of these crazy, dangerous obstacle courses. If not for her telekinesis power allowing her to block the knives and poles being swung at her, she’d probably already be dead! Magpie herself had had way too many close calls on that course for comfort, and she could literally fly over it if she wanted.

The thought angered her, but she buried it down. Just one more day. One more day, and they could get out of here for good. 

Speaking of Hex’s training, Magpie was pretty sure it was still going on for today. She figured she might as well go and see how her little sister was going before heading back to their room.

A shrill scream and a loud crack echoed through the hallways. Magpie’s heart leapt into her throat. She started running.

He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t. He’d threatened Magpie with it a few times, and only backed down on account of not wanting to damage her wings. Hex didn’t have that protection. But, still. He wouldn’t do that to her, right?

The cracking and shrieking continued, and it became clearer and clearer that, apparently, he would. Magpie was going to kill him.

The sight she saw through the window when she got to Hex’s training course didn’t betray her expectations. 

Hex, shirtless and on her knees. Father standing behind her, whip in hand. A dozen red, bleeding lines criss-crossing Hex’s back as her entire body quaked.

A rage the likes of which she’d never felt before burned in Magpie’s gut. She rushed over to the door, dismayed to find that it was locked.

Fine. It wouldn’t stop her.

She threw her fist against the metal, denting it. A grim satisfaction settled inside of her. Nothing could protect Father from her wrath now.

She punched the edge of the door over and over again, until there was enough space for her to get her fingers in between it and the frame. Ensuring that her grip was sound, she heaved, contracting every fibre of muscle in her arms and literally ripping the sliding metal door out of the wall. Inside, Hex was curled up on the floor, and Father was staring at Magpie like she was the consequences of his actions made manifest. He was scared.

Good.

With a flap of her wings, Magpie was flying towards him, ready to rip him apart. 

Her fist sunk into his side with the force of a wrecking ball, and she felt his ribs crack under her knuckles. The hit sent him flying, slamming into the far wall like a sack of bricks.

Magpie landed on her feet, planting herself between Father and Hex. He wouldn’t hurt them anymore.

Father coughed and gasped, spitting up blood as he tried and failed to get to his feet. “Wh… what… Wh-what’s the meaning of this?! How dare you raise a hand against me!”

“You stay away from us!” Magpie yelled. “Come near Hex again, and I’ll kill you!”

Father finally managed to drag himself up, clutching his side. He scowled. “You’ve always been a precocious one, Five. I see I’ve been far too gentle with you. It’s fine, you’ll learn obedience in time. Here’s your first lesson!”

He threw his hand up and Magpie screamed, suddenly overcome with an impossible pain coursing throughout her entire body, pinpointed in the back of her neck. She collapsed as her knees gave out, writhing on the ground in unknowable agony. Darkness flashed across her vision. She heaved, her body curling in on itself and forcing her lunch back out of her mouth. This was it. She was going to die. Her body couldn’t take it. Hex was going to be all alone with that monster, and there was nothing she could do.

With that one last thought, everything went black and Magpie died.

—

TWO DAYS LATER

If only she’d actually died back then. It would have been a mercy. If she’d died, she wouldn’t be stuck on her knees, with her arms wrenched and twisted behind her back, chained to the wall tight enough that she couldn’t move at all without searing pain. If she’d died, she wouldn’t have been stuck in this exact position for an unknowable amount of time, muscles burning constantly, stomach aching with hunger, thirst quenched by only the most meagre amount of water that would keep her alive, soiling herself over and over with no way to stop it. Passing out was her only consolation, but even then, she never stayed asleep for long. It was stupid of her to think she’d had it bad before. This was true hell.

Magpie closed her eyes, trying not to cry. She couldn’t afford to waste hydration like that. Her only hope was that Hex had been spared. She would put up with this forever if it meant that her little sister was safe.

The door opened, bright light spilling out from the hallway and blinding Magpie after so many hours in the dark. It was probably Father, come to torment her again. She braced herself for another verbal lashing or boot to the jaw.

“Maggie?”

If Magpie had the energy to, she would have gasped.

“H… H-Hex…? Is… Is that… you?” she rasped out.

The figure haloed in light stepped closer. Sure enough, it was Hex, her little sister, looking down at her in horror.

“Oh god, Maggie. Did… Did Father do this to you?”

“What are you doing here?” Magpie croaked, ignoring the question. “If Father finds you, he’ll hurt you again.”

“He’s not here right now. He and a bunch of the scientists left. I’m gonna save you, okay?”

The thought made a lump rise in Magpie’s throat. Her bottom lip quivered. “H- Hex…”

The young girl wasted no more time, rushing to the shackles binding Magpie’s arms and legs. They came undone all at once and she collapsed to the floor, relief flooding her tattered muscles. Magpie couldn’t help it; she started sobbing.

“It’s okay now, Maggie,” Hex said, kneeling at her side and gently massaging the base of her wings. “It’s all gonna be okay. We’re gonna get out of here tonight, just like you talked about.”

“I’m sorry… I c-couldn’t protect you… I’m so sorry, Hex.”

Hex’s voice cracked. “It- it’s alright. It’s not your fault, Maggie.”

Magpie let out a sigh, her body deflating. “I like it when you call me that. B-better than Magpie.”

“Then that’s what I’ll call you from now on, okay?”

Maggie nodded. She sniffled, summing up the energy to speak. “How much time do we have?”

“A little. The hallways are pretty empty right now, so I should be able to get us back to our room without any trouble. We’ll have a bit of time to prepare, but then we have to move. Do… Do you think you’ll be okay? Will you be able to fight?”

“I will be,” Maggie said. “No matter what, I will be. I’ll always fight for you, Hex.”

“Not alone, you won’t. I’ll fight, too. Like you said, we’re in this together. To the end.”

“To the end.”

—

Maggie laid in bed, enjoying her last few moments of rest before everything went down. Hex ended up carrying her down the hallway with telekinesis, and thankfully they didn’t run into anyone on the way. She’d had a shower – or, more accurately, Hex had showered her – gotten a change of clothes, and was now ready to fight for their freedom.

Okay, maybe ‘fight’ was a bit of an exaggeration for her current state. Shakily hobble toward their freedom, more like.

As much as she didn’t want to move at all for the next month, the promise of the outside world was invigorating, and it gave her the strength to sit up.

“Feeling okay to go?” Hex asked.

Maggie sucked in a breath to steel herself and nodded. “I don’t know if I can walk too fast on my own, but together, we should be able to make it.”

Hex nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Maggie dragged herself off of the bed and pretty much flopped over Hex, who wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her as they walked out of their room and into the halls. The pain in her shaking limbs was almost overwhelming, but with Hex’s support, she could manage. She had to.

Maybe it was the fact that it was the middle of the night, or maybe it was because of what Hex said earlier, but the corridors were practically deserted, and they met no resistance as they slowly hobbled their way to the ‘elevator’ that Father was always leaving from. Now, Maggie didn’t really know what an elevator was, but she was sure gonna try and figure it out.

“Um… what do we do now?” Hex asked once they’d stepped inside the small room.

Maggie stared at the row of buttons on the wall.

“Uh, I dunno.”

Hex shrugged and pressed the bottom one, seemingly at random. Well, it was as good a plan as they could possibly have, given the circumstances.

The doors closed, and both of them yelped as the floor started moving. Okay. This was fine. Father travelled on this every day, so Maggie wasn’t gonna let it get the best of her.

After a few seconds, the doors opened again, and the world outside had changed. Instead of bright corridors, the room on the other side was dim, lit up only by dozens of… windows? That wasn't exactly what they looked like, but it was the closest approximation Maggie could guess, considering that she could see different parts of the facility through them. There was a chair in front of the windows, with someone sitting in it. Thankfully, it looked like they were asleep.

Was this the right way? It was worth a look around, at least.

Focusing all of their stealth training, Magpie and Hex tiptoed out of the elevator, sneaking towards the door on the opposite wall. Thankfully, whoever was posted up in the chair was out cold, so they were able to reach the door and get through without the person noticing anything awry.

The room on the other side was… weird. It was just as dimly lit as the previous room, only this time the light source was the large green cylinder next to the door. The walls were lined with other cylinders, but these ones were all made of metal, whereas the glowing green one seemed to be made of glass. Inside the cylinder was a small… something. Honestly, Maggie couldn't really tell what it was. It was tiny, and vaguely person shaped, but that was where her deductions ended.

A forgotten memory suddenly flashed through her mind. She remembered this green stuff. She remembered being submerged in it, floating in the warmth.

The realisation washed over her like ice water. This was it, wasn't it? This was where she came from. There was no ‘before’ the facility. This room was where she and Hex were… created.

Her heart lurched in her chest. They… they were never actually born, just… grown in a tube. No wonder Hex looked exactly like her. Screw ‘sister,’ they were probably the same damn person. And from the looks of things, the tiny speck floating in the green was probably the next little sister to come. What the hell did Father want with them that he would go as far as to create people?!

“There was never an accident, was there?” Hex asked. “This was where we came from.”

Maggie sighed, trying not to let the idea overwhelm her. “Looks like it.”

“B-but… what does that mean for us?”

She scowled. “It means nothing. It doesn't matter where we came from, because we're here now. We exist, we're people, and we're not gonna let Father push us around anymore just because he created us.”

Hex took a shallow breath and nodded. It looked like she was about to cry, but she held it back. “Right.”

Maggie wanted to hug her, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength. Instead, she looked at the little rectangle next to the cylinder. There was writing on it.

SUBJECT G-7: ‘JORDYN’

STATUS: NORMAL

She sighed. “Good luck, Jordyn. You're gonna need it.”

“I think we went the wrong way,” Hex said. “We shouldn't stay here.”

“Agreed. Let's go.”

They turned and exited back the way they came, into the room with all the windows and the sleeping person. They were going to just cross through back into the elevator when something on one of the windows caught Maggie's eye. She stopped walking.

“What is it?” Hex whispered.

“That window has writing on it. It says our numbers.”

“So?”

“Any information could be helpful, Hex. We know literally nothing about the outside world, or honestly, ourselves. It's worth it.”

“What if the guy wakes up?”

“I'll take him out.”

Hex bit her lip, hesitating, but ultimately, she nodded. “Okay.”

The two of them silently crept over to the wall of windows, focusing on the one at the bottom. The person in the chair – who they could see now was a man – didn’t react. Sure enough, the window displayed both of the numbers Maggie and Hex had on the back of their necks. They started to read.

Subject G-5

Power already manifesting in early development stage. Subject has a pair of wings growing from her back. Whether or not they will actually allow for flight remains to be seen. Named ‘Magpie.’

(I will not allow a subject with a purely cosmetic power to waste my time. Is there any way to ensure that her wings will work? - Andreas)

(With a little bit of genetic engineering, we can give her super-dense muscles for some added strength. It’s not a guarantee, but it should help! - George)

(Do it. - Andreas)

Maggie rubbed her bicep absent-mindedly. She thought she was this strong from her own merit, but it was just Father – or ‘Andreas,’ if she had to guess which one was him – tampering with her even more. The idea made her feel sick. She kept reading.

Post-birth, everything is falling into expected parameters. Habilitation to continue.

Subject has a particularly rebellious personality, and is not very receptive to orders or Andreas’ explanation of why she is missing her memories. Programming may have failed to set in properly for whatever reason. Continuing to study.

Subject appears to have become quite attached to G-6 post introduction, and vice versa. Whether or not this is a good or bad thing for the program remains to be seen.

Subject excelling at locomotive and combat training. Subject’s aggressive personality, while difficult to control at times, is proving very effective in battle. Expected to pass exam with ease.

Subject interrupted one of G-6’s punishments, assaulting Andreas and threatening him. Her protectiveness of G-6 has proven to be a liability. No solution to this has been found as of yet. Correction chip was effective in subduing subject. Punishment to be carried out.

‘Correction chip?’ That was what knocked her out back then? Maggie shuddered. Just how much had Andreas tinkered with her and Hex’s bodies?

That was where her entry ended, and Hex’s entry began. She continued on.

Subject G-6

Subject was pulled out of formation tank early due to unexpected complications that would have otherwise resulted in her death. As a result, her body and brain were not fully formed, leaving her in a child-like state. Estimated physical age to be around 12 years old. Termination was considered, but subject displayed a strong telekinetic power that could effectively make up for her underdeveloped body. Named ‘Hex.’ Proceeding with habilitation.

(Well, this throws a wrench into things. How are we going to explain this to G-5? - George)

(Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. - Andreas)

Upon introduction, subject bonded with G-5. Cohabitation seems as though it will be successful. Continuing habilitation and beginning locomotive training soon.

Subject is struggling with locomotive training due to development issues, but seems determined to continue. Programming seems to have settled in well.

Locomotive performance has plateaued at an unsatisfying result. Punishments to ensue if the subject shows no more progress.

That was the end of Hex’s notes. The last one made Maggie want to punch the window, but she held herself back. What kind of a monster would resort to… to doing what Maggie had witnessed, just because a child wasn’t doing good enough?!

“Maggie, your wings!” Hex whisper-yelled.

“Ngh?”

It was too late. In Maggie’s anger, she’d failed to notice that her wings had puffed up, getting ready to extend so she could fly. In doing so, they’d bumped into the guy in the chair and woke him up. The two stared at each other.

He started scrambling. “H-Hey! What-”

Hex’s eyes widened, and the man was suddenly flung across the room, slamming into the far wall hard enough for Maggie to hear an audible crack. For a second, she thought he might have died, but he was still squirming around. She could use this.

Maggie let go of Hex and limped over to the man, gingerly kneeling down and grabbing him by the lapels. 

“Wh-what…? M… Magpie?”

“How do we get out of here?” she demanded. “Tell me, or I’m gonna start breaking things.”

“I… I don’t… what?”

From the look of it, he probably had a pretty bad concussion. Maggie sighed and tried again, speaking slower.

“How. Do. We. Get. Out. Of. Here?”

It finally seemed to click for the guy. About a hundred different emotions flickered across his face; most of them some variation of fear.

“Y-you… You can’t.”

Maggie snarled. “Why not?!”

“Th-they’ll find you. No matter where you go. They’ll track your chips and bring you back.”

“Chips? Like the correction chip?”

His eyes widened. “How do you…”

Maggie remembered when Andreas used it on her. She remembered exactly where the pain came from; where it was the most intense. “They’re in the backs of our necks, aren’t they?”

The man glanced from side to side, like he was trying to come up with a lie. “I…”

Whatever. That was good enough. They could figure out the elevator on their own. Maggie finished the guy off with the strongest jab to the face she could muster in her weakened state.

“What do we do now?” Hex asked as Maggie limped back over.

“We’ve got to get these chips out. They’re in the backs of our necks. If we don’t get rid of them, Andreas will be able to find us no matter how far we run.”

Hex grimaced. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

“Yep. But that’s what we’ve trained for.”

—

With the help of a first aid kit and a shard of glass from a broken cup, Maggie and Hex cut the back of each other’s necks open, and managed to fish out the horrible chip. There was a lot of whimpering, crying, and shouting involved, but they got through it in the end, stitching each other up just as they were trained for. Maggie felt sick having to hurt Hex like that, but it was the only way for them to truly be safe from Andreas once they got out. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure that man never got his hands on them ever again.

Maggie wiped her eyes and sighed, trying to ignore the stinging pain in the back of her neck. “Are you ready to go?”

Hex nodded, her bottom lip still quivering. “Yeah.”

They stumbled over to the elevator, holding onto each other for support. Maggie eyed the buttons on the wall wearily. Nothing to it but luck, she supposed. She pressed the one at the top and the elevator started moving again.

“We’ve got this,” she whispered in Hex’s ear. “We’re gonna be okay. No one’s gonna lay a finger on us anymore.”

Hex’s nose crinkled, but a smile played at her lips. “Your breath smells bad.”

Maggie snorted out a laugh. “Gimme a break. I haven’t brushed my teeth in two days. You’re just lucky we had time for me to shower, or I’d probably still reek of urine.”

Hex chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna say anything when I found you, but wow, you didn’t smell good.”

“Aren’t I lucky to have such a caring little sister.” Maggie grinned.

The elevator reached its destination and the doors opened, revealing a room neither of them had ever seen before. It was wide and open, with a carpeted floor and several chairs sitting against the walls. Maggie couldn’t ascertain what its purpose was. On the far end of the room from the elevator, the wall was made entirely of glass, and a dim, cool light was drifting in from the other side. There was a door in the glass. It called to her; an odd tug in her gut urging her towards it. Somehow she knew; this was the way to the outside world. They were free.

She charged forward, filled with renewed strength, and slammed the door open. Cold air slammed into them right back.

There was a man in her way. His eyes widened at the sight of her face, then he looked to Hex and they widened even further. He wasn’t one of the familiar faces from the facility. This guy was just… a regular person. Huh.

Maggie wrapped her arms around Hex, flapped her wings, and finally took proper flight for the first time in her life. Cold wind rushed in her hair and through her feathers. Hex shrieked in delight from the thrill. The world stretched out below her and the sky opened up above her, little pinpricks of light twinkling in her eyes as freedom filled her lungs. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

If there was one thing Maggie had learned about the outside world in the brief week since they’d escaped, it was that the outside world was nothing like what she and Hex were used to. There were no more steadily provided meals, no convenient clothing that was always cleaned when they needed it, no directions or schedule or order. It was just her and her little sister against the world.

Hex’s stomach rumbled loud enough for Maggie to hear it. Maggie clenched her fists against the guilt that washed over her. She was supposed to be taking care of her, but she was failing miserably. She could barely even take care of herself. Hex was being so good about it, not complaining, always staying strong, but they couldn’t keep going like this. They were losing weight. Every night they almost froze to death, huddled up together wherever they could find even a modicum of shelter. What little food they could find was few and far between; pitiful scraps scavenged from bins or off the floor. Maggie had broken into a building to get them some new clothes the night they escaped, but it wasn’t going to last. She just had no idea how the outside world worked, frankly. Not for the first time, she wondered if escaping was a bad idea after all. 

Not everything was hopeless, though. Maggie had an idea that might help them get a little bit more to eat. She’d been doing her best to study up on what life was like out here; watching people from the shadows, reading whatever ‘newspapers’ she could get her hands on, and she reckoned she might have stumbled onto something promising.

A little ways away from their little hideout, there was a big plot of empty land, and every day, a bunch of guys would show up and start putting something together. A new building, if she had to guess. The way Maggie figured, if she could help the guys out a little bit, they might be inclined to help her out, too. A proper meal, some new clothes, maybe even a comfortable place to rest their heads. It was worth a shot, at least.

So, one day, Maggie and Hex donned their sunglasses – the best way they could figure to hide their identities, lest Andreas hear something and come looking – and made their way over to the yard.

The men were hard at work when they got there, each buried in their own task. Maggie walked up and, summing all of her courage, called out to them.

“Uh, e- excuse me!”

A few of the men stopped what they were doing and looked their way, before glancing to one man in particular. He stood up from where he was crouched near a steadily growing brick wall and raised a hand to the others. They got back to work, and the man walked over to the two of them.

“Hi, can I help you?” he asked, taking off his own sunglasses and wiping the sweat from under the weird hat he and the rest of them were wearing. His tan skin was speckled with pockmarks, and a dark, full stubble had taken up most of his jaw. He was quite handsome, actually. Maggie’s stomach fluttered a little as he looked her up and down, glancing at her wings, though that also could have been from hunger.

“Yes, u-um, actually, I was wondering if I could help you.” Maggie clenched her fists, letting out an awkward laugh. This felt weird. “I, uh, I’m pretty strong. I could lift some things, i-if you need. Hex here has telekinesis, too, so… Um, she could also help.”

The man frowned. “You want… a job?”

Maggie didn’t know what that word meant, but she nodded. “If that’s what it takes to get some food, then yes.”

There was a pause as the man analysed her. “You guys are in some trouble, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Hex suddenly blurted out. “We’re… we’re just hungry. If there’s anything we can do to earn some food, please. Let us help.”

The man bit his lip, glancing to the side. After a few seconds, he looked back at Maggie. “Alright, I’ll tell you what. I can’t let you guys work on the site for… well, for obvious reasons, but if you come with me, I can get you two something to eat, and we can sit down and talk this through. The company I work for is owned by the Heroes’ Union, so we should be able to work something out and get you guys some help. Sound good?”

Half of that meant literally nothing to Maggie, but at this point, she would take anything. She nodded.

“Alright,” the man said, holding out his hand. “The name’s Diego, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

—

Back in the present, Maggie smiled at the memory of her and Diego’s first meeting as she pulled her shirt back on and struggled to get her wings through the holes. It had been almost two years since then, and Maggie felt lucky for that chance encounter every single day.

Diego had taken them back to this very apartment, gave them their first warm meal in over a week, let them shower, gave them a change of clothes and heard them out; every last detail of their fucked-up story. At the time, Maggie hadn’t known how much to omit, so she just told him everything. If he’d been anyone else, that could have ended terribly for them, but thankfully, they’d run into one of the few genuinely good people in this city. He was the only one that knew the whole truth; that Maggie and Hex were nothing more than unwilling body doubles for a woman that died five years ago; that Andreas de Vygon was playing God below the precinct, creating life and forcing it to do his bidding; that Seven wasn’t just a superhero working for the police, but the next body double down the line. As far as any of his bosses knew, Diego had just taken in some powered people in need of help, and provided him the resources to do so. If not for his generosity, Maggie was sure she and Hex would have died on the streets, clueless and alone.

Not wanting to be a burden, Maggie once again begged Diego to let her work at the construction site, and finally, he acquiesced, promising to teach her how things worked. These days, it was what she spent most of her time doing, saving the company money by using her wings to do the high-up work that anyone else would need safety equipment for. It was hard work for sure, but it was rewarding, knowing that she was helping earn to support herself and her sister.

It was about a year after they started living together that this… thing that had been dancing between them finally caught alight. Maggie’d had time to learn about the world, about people, about relationships and how things worked. She’d seen them on TV, read about them in books, figured out how to determine the good from the bad by scouring the internet, and finally, made her move on Diego. They’d been sharing a few drinks after Hex went to bed, watching a movie together on the couch, and Maggie just went for it, grabbing his face and kissing him then and there when the moment presented itself.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe she was just pent up from literally never receiving sexual touch from another person in her life, but things progressed very quickly from there and they took it straight to the bedroom. Safe to say, it was a night she would never forget.

They had a proper conversation about it the morning after, where Diego admitted that he’d felt the same way for a while, but wasn’t comfortable making a move considering that, for a lot of their relationship up to that point, Maggie was entirely dependent on him, and considering how little she knew about… anything, the dynamic would have been a little weird. But now that she’d started working, now that she had her own money and a half-decent understanding of the world, and now that he knew she was actually super interested in him, too, he figured they could give this thing a shot. And the rest was history.

Jordyn’s appearance on the streets had scared her. She knew it was only a matter of time before she came after their fragile peace, smashing through their glass walls and leaving Maggie and Hex nothing more than a bad memory in Andreas’ mind, splattered across Diego’s floor. That tiny speck that once floated in the green had grown into a monster, and Maggie had no choice but to get ahead of it.

To that end, and much to Diego’s protest, Maggie had gone hunting. What she needed was equipment. Weaponry that could stand up to a killer of Maggie’s own calibre. Sure, Maggie’d had more time to build her muscles, and she was undoubtedly one of the strongest people alive already, thanks to Andreas’ tinkering, but Jordyn had the backing of the entire police force behind her. Maggie needed to be smart.

So, she slaughtered two SWAT officers and stole their guns. Then she used that sniper rifle to shoot Jordyn down. Only, she underestimated the strength of her armour, and only succeeded in pissing Andreas off. For a month, she laid low, hiding out in the apartment and waiting for things to cool off. And once they did, she tried again.

Jordyn was no pushover, though, and gave her a real run for her money. Maggie got her down though. Got her down, and was seconds away from pulling the trigger and ending it, when that pathetic, terrified look on her face made Maggie freeze. 

Did she make the right choice in letting her little sister live? Who could say. The only thing to do was move forward, and take every day as it came. Maggie and Hex were alive, and they were free, and that was the only thing that truly mattered.

“Maggie?”

“Hm?” She blinked, returning to her body. Hex had been calling to her. “What’s up?”

“We were trying to ask what you wanted from McDonalds. Get lost in your head again?”

Maggie smiled. “Yeah. Thinkin’ about stuff.”

“Well, you’d better hurry up and order, birdie, or I’ll get you a 20 pack of chicken nuggets again,” Diego joked.

Maggie let out a mock gasp. “You wouldn’t dare! Making me eat my own kin; shame on you!”

Diego laughed, and Maggie basked in the sound. It was times like these that it felt like everything would turn out alright after all.

Taglist: @steelandblood @sapphicwhump @urnumber1star @alsolucakairomi @idkwhattodowiththisaltiamsorry

@iamheretohurt @anoyedartist @dontyoubleedoutonme @seastarblue @lettherebepain

@bacillusinfection

wahoo bird lady backstory!!!

i do really love maggie as a character, but in truth, she doesn't actually get all that much screentime in the current outline of the plot. granted, that outline is in the literal haziest terms imaginable, so that's open to change lol. or maybe i'll write a maggie spinoff once this is done

only 2 more chapters until the end of this arc! next up, we reconvene with Steve and see the results of his little investigation hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe (evil but cute laugh)

thanks for reading! let me know what you thought in a comment or reblog! It's v appreciated :> Ciao!

[allthoughts-headgay]

people rlly need to realize that eating is more important than having a healthy, balanced diet.

[moonlesslights]

Miguel O’hara in Love

Headcanons.

━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━

A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.

Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)

This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.

Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.

You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.

And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.

What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.

You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.

The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.

He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.

You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.

“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”

You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.

“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.

“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”

“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”

The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.

That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.

“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.

You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.

“For real?”

“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”

His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.

“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.

He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.

Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.

No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.

Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.

Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.

“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.

Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.

History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.

You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.

No. You would never find out about that.

Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.

But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.

“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:

“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.

“I know.”

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”

He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.

He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.

“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.

“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.

“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”

That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?

Were you really that bored?

“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.

You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.

“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”

You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.

Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.

He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.

You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?

“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.

He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.

He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.

When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”

You nod without waiting for another question.

“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.

It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.

Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.

He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.

It wasn’t that big of a deal…

Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.

He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.

With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.

“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”

“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.

“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”

Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”

“Miguel…”

“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”

When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.

“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.

“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.

“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.

You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.

It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.

His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.

The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.

“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.

“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.

“Need help?”

You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”

“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.

But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.

You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.

Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.

His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.

“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.

“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”

“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.

But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.

“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.

“I’m…”

“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.

And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.

And then… A call.

He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.

His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.

“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.

“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.

“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”

And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.

“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”

He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.

“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.

“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”

The woman, for the first time, remains silent.

“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”

A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.

She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.

She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.

Miguel wanted to own you.

He wasn’t good at hiding it.

His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.

Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.

But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.

When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.

“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.

He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.

“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.

You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.

The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.

You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.

“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.

“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.

You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.

You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.

But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.

“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.

“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.

You nod.

“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.

“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.

He was so close, he just needed…

“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.

You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.

He was ready for the next round.

…

Thank you so much for coming all this way!

PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.

This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.

I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.

Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3

PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!

PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.

[ammoniteblue]

some random kenji thoughts

he is NOT an early bird. kenji sato likes his lie ins. those mornings where he can spend an extra hour or two stretched across his bed. no morning practice to rush to. no fan event to be late for. nope. just him, his massive bed and peaceful sleep.

hates horror films. this man’s whole life is basically a horror movie. fighting against man eating, sky scraper tall monsters ?? why would he pay ten dollars for a movie ticket when he could just walk outside and experience that fear for free ?? or he could go through an old family photo album and experience the crushing terror of realising that by living one parents dream he lets down another…..

kenji sato does not share. this MAN CHILD is an only child. and his parents worshipped him as a kid. crayons, snacks, figures. it don’t matter if they’re kenji’s they are KENJI'S. would smack another child’s hand away if they dared to try and touch them. even as an adult he struggles to share stuff.

likes his women bossy. kenji likes a girl that can tell him what to do. he’s an egotistical smartass with plenty of wit and charm. he needs someone who can keep up, keep him in line.

was bullied at school in the states. i feel like the movie drops lots f hints that he struggled in the states. the stuff he said about kids teasing him for his food ??? his name ??? probs why he started going by Ken and he uses the word ''bro'' all the time. plus that ego ??? defo the result of a childhood spent as an outcast.

what do you guys think ?? drop any other thoughts below. part 4 of not a hero, just an author will be out shortly !!!

[luvjunie]

— roller skating

pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader

contains: romance, slightlyyy (barely) suggestive fluff, miles and reader are in their late teens for realistic purposes

summary: you and miles go on a date to the roller rink and you have a hard time picking up the skill. you ask him to demonstrate for you and he obliges, but you’re so caught up in him that you’re not sure you learned anything at all. wc: 1,254

a/n: if you want to listen to the song mentioned while reading, i suggest you start it when you come across the spotify link i added during the exact scene it’s playing in the story. i highly recommend waiting until prompted so you can experience exactly what reader did cause chileeee. it hits differenttt like i fr made myself fall in love with this one 😭 also if you didn’t know, this is the exact vibe of a black roller rink lol. example 2

🎧: Close To You - Dreezy, T-Pain

“miles, i’m going to fall.” you whined nervously, your body basically glued to the length of your boyfriend’s right arm.

“you won’t ma, i got you.”

he laughed gently at your uneasy stance, and secretly at how terrified you were of participating in what’s been one of his favorite activities since he was a child.

his skates rolled smoothly against the floor as he guided the both of you to the rink; but yours, however, awkwardly clunked around as you settled for taking wary steps, instead of actually gliding like you were supposed to.

how you ended up agreeing to a date at the roller rink with miles was beyond you. you were someone who tripped over your own two feet at least twice a day from simply trying to walk. but with his promise of teaching you and his guarantee of going slow, your nerves had dissipated some— until you’d actually slipped the skates on and got out onto the rink.

“don’t pick your feet up mama. just push them out to the side, one after the other and lean your body forward. you got it.”

you heard his instructions loud and clear, but your brain still struggled to send the correct signals to your unsophisticated body.

you wobbled against the browned, laminated wood, not really a fan of your newfound lack of control when it came to your own legs. right hand hovered out beside you in preparation for a tumble, the fingers of your left were tightly clamped around miles’ bicep as an effort to keep your balance. you had a death grip on him, too focused on not eating shit to wonder if you were hurting him or not. you weren’t, but even if you were, he wouldn’t tell you.

“you’re overthinkin’ it.” he smiled down at you, finding your instinctive need to hold onto him adorable.

“how the hell do you do this without falling flat on your ass?” you asked, already exasperated from your short trek from the bench.

“i’m just like that.” he shrugged suavely, chuckling discreetly when your head turned towards him with a pointed glare. “practice. my moms taught me when i was eight,” he rephrased, and you stumbled suddenly, but he quickly caught you by your arm, two strong hands steadying you before your feet could sweep out from under you.

“okay, no, this isn’t gonna work,” a shaky breath pushed passed your lips and somehow you managed to bring the both of you to a stop over by the wall of the rink, hand instantly finding purchase on the railing. “can you just, i don’t know… demonstrate, first?” you waved your hand around, motioning towards the other people out on the floor to get your point across. “maybe if i watch you do it, it’ll come to me easier.”

he nodded, retreating from you slowly, backwards. he gestured back and forth between the both of you with his finger, your eyes unintentionally falling to it. “eyes on me, aight?” he instructed with a subtle smirk, a sultry trace lingering in his tone.

you couldn’t take them off him even if you tried, so that wouldn’t be a problem.

you were convinced your attraction towards this man couldn’t become any stronger than it already was, until “Close To You” by Dreezy started playing through the speakers and the spot lights on the ceiling dimmed dreamily to a mellowed pink, blue, and orange— blending into a seductive mix of captivating hues that illuminated the rink. you felt yourself swoon, and had half a mind to curse out whoever was on music and lighting for aiding in the palpitations of your heart as your eyes followed your boyfriend closely.

you watched his feet first, as one fanned out in a small half-circle after the other, the movement allowing him to skillfully glide out onto the bustling rink.

how he was able to skate backwards when you had such a hard time grasping the concept of even doing it the normal way, you didn’t know. not to mention sifting through people without bumping into a single one of them. and while the technique of it all seemed simple on paper, what really impressed you was how effortless he made it look.

facing the opposite way of everybody else as he cruised, his hips languidly swayed to the beat of the music, upper body leaning just the slightest with them and you had no choice but to gawk at him— at how handsome he looked, at how good he was at this. at how his lips were absentmindedly tucked into themselves due to his focus, then unfurled to faintly mouth the lyrics.

lord have mercy.

you were mesmerized to say the least, lips parted somewhat and mouth dry. it was like everyone else had disappeared, like the two of you were the only ones in the room; time moving slower than it usually did.

once he started enjoying himself and got into a groove, he’d forgotten you were even watching him, until he caught your marveling eyes transfixed on him from across the rink, chin dropping to his chest for a beat as he simpered to himself. tongue wetting his lips, he shook his head in amusement. he already knew why you were looking at him like that.

with one foot expertly crossing in front of the other periodically, he maneuvered himself through a few stragglers with a brief look over his shoulder, swiftly spinning around a couple that happened to be in his way.

yeah, now he was just showing off.

you had no idea what your face looked like, but as he rounded back over to where you were, he laughed at your awestruck expression and called out to you.

“you droolin’, mami!”

if your jaw wasn’t already dropped from watching him nonchalantly coast around, it definitely was now.

your fingers mindlessly rushed to check, because honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if you were, only for a playful glower to settle onto your face when you realized he was messing with you.

having forgotten you were supposed to try for yourself, your eyes widened in slight panic when he suddenly skated over to you and gently took your hand, pulling you out onto the floor against your will.

“no no no no-!”

“cálmate, mama.” he drawled, his words dragging on as he shot you that same charming smile that’d made you fall in love with him in the first place. “i’ll hold you, no te preocupes (don’t worry). just c’mere,”

you gave him a look of uncertainty, but reluctantly moved your feet just enough to get closer to him anyway. he met you halfway, and snaked his right arm around your waist, expertly turning you so your backside was facing him before he pulled you flush against his body, and your teeth found your bottom lip before you could stop them.

his left arm then came around to your front to meet the other and your lungs drew in a wavered breath at the feeling of his hands resting on the soft of your inner thighs, dangerously close to having your knees buckling. your face bloomed with a sweltering heat, mind entirely corrupted by him and him only. how the intoxicating aroma of his dior sauvage cologne invaded your nostrils; how it felt being against him like this. lashes fluttering and mind turning to putty at the way he was holding you, your warning to him was merely a whispered reminder.

“miles.”

“shhh, i know what i’m doin’.” his response had a double meaning to it as he kept you tightly pressed to him, figure hunched over yours a bit. his breath warmed your skin and his lips brushed the shell of your ear when he spoke, his hands tapping rhythmically against your thighs to keep up with the beat of the song while he helped guide you into the same fluid movement he’d demonstrated prior.

your hands came down to rest overtop his, and you were shocked at the way your body naturally began to sway in sync along with his once you let yourself relax into him; the both of you settling into a comfortable stroll.

“see, ¿que te dije? (see, what’d i tell you?)” he teased, his voice a deep hum against your cheek. “you got it.”

- please don’t plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to any other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part four

authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!

couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!

also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

word count: 5.8k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede

You couldn't eat. 

Couldn't sleep.

Could barely think straight.

All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.

He wanted to take her from you. 

Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.

The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.

That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered. 

You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now. 

Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”

“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”

“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”

You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.

He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both. 

“I just—I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” 

Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.” 

He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”

You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.” 

Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.” 

This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”

“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.” 

“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”

And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.

“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”

“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”

“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”

You won’t let her grow up like you.

Period.

Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.

And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now. 

You’ve got to sort this through first.

It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles. 

You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma. 

It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her. 

You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender. 

You loved her enough to let her go.

“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”

There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 

“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."

His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”

You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”

He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.” 

It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you. 

“Where are you going?”

Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?” 

“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”

“Joe—”

He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”

Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”

“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions. 

“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”

He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”

You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation. 

“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”

He looks at you. “A shirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Because…..”

Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.

For obvious reasons.

You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts. 

“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.

Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous. 

Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring. 

Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.

If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed. 

You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road. 

“What is she like?”

Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest. 

“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.

He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.

There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.

Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.

Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you. 

Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.

He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.

The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.

Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?

It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least

Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much. 

He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.

Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.

Hopefully. 

________

“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”

The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word. 

Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much. 

You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that.  Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”

Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”

You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”

“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.

Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”

“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”

Welp.

That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that. 

This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney. 

“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”

Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”

“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”

Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?” 

You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her. 

“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”

Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity. 

Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in. 

Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.

And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.

“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow. 

You shout back, “yes?”

“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”

You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled. 

He looks…..he looks so happy.

Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.

Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”

Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”

“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”

Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.” 

The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”

Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”

“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”

Joe chuckles. “I do.”

“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look. 

“I’m a professional wrestler.”

She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”

“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child. 

You’re starting to believe it.

Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”

At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.

You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.

Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”

“That is true.” 

Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”

He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?” 

“Yeah! What does that mean?”

You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”

“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”

“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”

“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”

His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”

You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.

“Really?” 

And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.

It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.

It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.

Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”

“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise. 

“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him. 

“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.

He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”

Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”

“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?” 

“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”

She gives him a small smile. “You promise?” 

Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.” 

Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.

When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.” 

She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?” 

“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.

But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent. 

“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to. 

And clearly….clearly it worked. 

“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.

“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”

“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.” 

Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.

But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.

He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it. 

“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”

“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined. 

“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”

He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”

“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.” 

He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness. 

You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation. 

No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.

No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.

[whalesforhands]

kaizen daycare! 1

summary: you love taking care of such adorable children, and they love you in return. however, it seems that you’ve garnered more than just the attention of some cute kids.

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You rejected him again.

“So how about tomorrow? I’ll come pick you up for dinner at my place?” His genteel smile, his captivating eyes, black hair draping over his shoulders as he’s leaning down slightly to stand before you, his three children long strapped into their seats within his car to ensure that they don’t overhear his conversation.

(Note that they could still very much see him, twins practically clambering over Megumi to get a better view of you two through the car window.)

Your pretty eyes are shifty, averting away from him as you scratch at your cheek. “Mmm, I’m afraid I won’t be available tomorrow, Geto-san.”

He’s already deflating, a barely put-together smile starting to give way to a frown as he nearly fails to hide his disappointment. He shouldn’t push you for a reason, right?

(Right…?)

“Ahh, I see. I suppose we could plan for another day, then.” He’s not going to hound you for an answer if you won’t tell him voluntarily.

“I’m really thankful for the invitation though, I’m sure you and your husband make great food!” A cute grin overtakes your face as your eyes turn into adorable crescents, a hand placed on your cheek. “I surely wouldn’t mind getting to eat the extra cookies you bake all the time.”

His heart melts. You’re forgiven.

Geto Suguru wants to slam his head into the steering wheel. Cookies, cookies— They were just made as an excuse to give way to longer conversations with you—!

“Papa, are you okay?” Mimiko’s shy voice is heard along the ride home, the passing streetlamps giving a warm glow to the interior of the car in contrast to the otherwise darkened, gloomy atmosphere of their father.

“Papa is… Just fine…” If getting rejected by someone as lovely as you 6 times in a row is considered fine, anyway. “Thank you for asking, dear.” He’s basically sulking as his eyes are kept on the road, a deep sigh leaving him as he turns a corner.

Eh? Mimiko really doesn’t think he’s fine at all. Did something upset him today?

“Oh, oh! Nanako knows why, Mimi!” The excited blonde is jumping in her seat as she raises an arm in the air, as if waiting to be called upon. “Gumi and I figured it out wayyyyy fast!”

“It wasn’t hard.” Megumi is almost looking triumphant, cute, chubby arms crossed and proud.

“…Is that so, sweethearts?” Suguru’s eyes flicker to the rear view mirror, amethyst purple meeting overjoyed brown and blank green that nods at his sister’s antics. “Care to tell what you think is making Papa sad?”

(There’s no way they figured it out, right? They may be his kids, but still…)

“Cause…” A contemplative finger on her lip as she lets the tension of unknowing rise for dramatic effect, an innocent grin on her cute face. “Cause Daddy and Papa are hopeless at getting (name)-sensei’s attention!”

Geto Suguru really wants to slam his head into the steering wheel now.

——

“AHAHAH!” There’s a loud laughter about the room now that Gojo Satoru has appeared, bathrobe around his form and towel in his hair as he kicks his feet into the air whilst laying down, held within Suguru’s embrace as he holds his stomach.

“Can’t— Hahah!” He’s struggling to breathe, a deep intaking of air as he gasps. “Pfft, believe how that sensei is so~ oblivious.” He wipes a tear from his eye, his voice finally finding itself as he rolls onto his side to face his pouty husband.

“Aren’t you laughing a little too much, Satoru?” The red on Suguru’s cheeks is very apparent as the shame manifests itself on his face. How many failures does he need? Geto Suguru was so sure that you had liked them, would even go as far as believing that you definitely had the hots for them.

(Because, who wouldn’t?)

“Aww, is wittle Suguwu hwurt?” An arm props his head up to better see his the blushing red of his husband. “Want a wittle kissy? Satoru will indulge you— OW!” He feels himself lose balance before his back his flat against the bed, an unimpressed Suguru atop of him.

Narrowed purple and playful blue meet as the black-haired male continues to straddle him. “Not the point, Satoru.” A pat to the smiling man’s cheek. “We haven’t made progress at all—“

“Don’t worry your pretty head off about our adorable teacher.” A smirk as Geto feels a hand trail up his thigh, exceeding close to the boxers he donned for bed.

“I got just the plan.” A wink as he grabs his waist, using his body weight to roll them over so that he would be the one on top, a loving hand stroking Suguru’s cheek.

“And I’m certain it’ll work this time~”

——

“Good morning… You’re awfully early today, Gojo-san…” A yawn escapes your lips as you hold a still sleeping Nanako in your arms, cradling her close and stroking her head as Gojo held the other two.

(You look awfully domestic. It makes his heart all the more softer at the sight.)

“And I’m sorry for that, sweet thing.” He adjusts a stirring Mimiko in his hold. “The family’s been too busy with our move lately, ya know? Gotta drop them off early to get the rest of the boxes.” His grin is ever bright as he follows you into the daycare, his footsteps light and his body close as they tested the limits of your boundaries.

(Truth was, he didn’t even need to move any boxes or anything. He just wanted to see you.)

“You must be working very hard, Gojo-san.” You hum quietly as you reach the nap area, the nightlights on and encompassing the room with their comfy glow as you gently kneel down to place a still sleeping Nanako onto a mattress, the man’s shoulder grazing yours as he placed the rest of his kids together.

“I think the change of pace is worth it. The relocation is gonna be a benefit to all of us.”

(My, is the new home that good?)

“It must be exhausting having to move houses, though.” You take this chance to poke at one of the mochi-like cheeks of Megumi, watching as his little nose twitches. “I hope you’re letting them get enough rest, Gojo-san.”

“Oho, plenty!” A glimmer of his teeth as you catch his bright smile. “You could even say they’re so excited, they can barely sleep thinking about yo— It.”

You’re humming as you follow-up with the light chatter, just happy to be able to have such light-hearted conversation with the man, ignoring how his fingers brushed against your own when you both reached for the blanket at the same time.

(This isn’t the time to think about such things! And he’s married!)

Unlike his husband, Gojo Satoru always seemed so hard to read, so hard to approach even after you’ve seen the softer, sweeter sides of him.

He was simply… Intimidating in his own right.

There is an odd, palpable air inbetween the two of you as the silence starts to drag, a gaze that’s seemingly stuck on you that hints and twinges between the line of unsettling. Hmm… You must be kind of tired today.

“Say, Gojo-san.” You’re getting up, patting off your apron and the almost scary tension as you lead him out the nap room. “Is your place near this area? I’ll be happy to help you find your way around.” Your back is turned to him as you gently close the door.

(You turn around only to meet the same intense blue, looking like they were glaring into your very being.)

“Well, we just moved into the apartment complex not far from here.” He takes a pause to tuck a loose strand of your hair back that your drowsy form fails to take note of. “I think it was—” His intense eyes glance downwards meet your dazed own, playful and prodding blue to the innocently awaiting you.

(So cute.)

“Akutami Estate.”

Your once sleepy self perks up at that mention, certainly recognizing that name.

“What a coincidence, Gojo-san! I happen to live within that building too!”

“That so? My, what a coincidence indeed.” His returning grin is bright, but his eyes are hard to read considering the sunglasses that had been slid back in place to hide them from your view.

“So, how about a little housewarming dinner tonight? My place, of course.”

There’s no way you can refuse now, right?

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Notes:

“Shokoooooo…!” You’re whining as you sat on her chair, making grabby hands for her whilst slumped into the plush seat.

“You’re awfully needy today. What’s the matter?” She’s patting your head as you suddenly lean forward to wrap your arms around her hips, your face dug into her side as you muffled incoherent words into her doctor’s coat.

“What? Don’t speak with my clothes in your mouth.”

You pull away, pouting up at her with what looked like glossed over eyes. “I think I just doomed myself…”

“Huh?”

[ruershrimo]

i. toge x fem!reader | aftermath of a confession

for a while it’s just the deafening silence between the two of you and the clanging noises of chopsticks on glass bowls. of course, he knows that it isn’t going to last forever even if he wonders if it will, but your lack of words definitely fails to prove that wrong. 

see, the problem is this: toge’s sitting right in front of you— his dream girl, his crush of two years and all that. since the moment you first walked in the classroom and he’d caught sight of you, he’d been hopelessly and utterly smitten. perhaps it was the way you smiled at others, shy as you were; the way you laughed at his antics without fail and tried to lift people up no matter how much you struggled with doing so. it was that kindness; the type that didn’t need gestures and touches, the type that didn’t call for empathy or sympathy. just that plain kindness. 

and soon after it came his love for everything else: your hair, your eyes, your skin— the way they shined in the sunlight. he was sure he wasn’t that obvious. yet he supposes that besides maki, panda and yuuta who’d already known him enough to tell, it could have been relatively easy for all the other students of the school (basically, all the first years) to notice his infatuation with you— well, save for you yourself. 

he didn’t think it’d amount to anything, though. as much as it hurt to think that. not with the way his technique held him back; you needed someone who could speak to you, look after you that way. he needed you to not feel lonely. he had insistence from maki and panda that you were every bit down bad for him as he was for you, yet he still couldn’t believe them in full. despite all his jests and cheeky shenanigans, he would never consider himself bold enough to be able to confess it all to you. so why do it, when you wouldn’t be able to reciprocate in the first place? 

which is why he was shocked when you bowed over, scrunched your face up in embarrassment and handed him a letter in a sealed envelope before lunch on a random tuesday, stammering that you’ve liked him for more than a year, can you please consider going out with me?, and running away before coming back just for lunch. 

at least if maki and panda were here, things would be less awkward. but maki is still out training, and panda’s off to do whatever pandas do before lunch on random tuesdays. 

“takana…” he starts, eyes on your crestfallen face. the only thing your eyes are on is the food you’re eating. 

“…I’m sorry…” you mutter. he barely makes it out from you. 

“ikura!” he says. No! 

an idea strikes him then. 

you cock your head to the side in confusion as he whips out his phone and his thumbs fiddle away across its keyboard. 

toge’s confident now. if the two of you like each other, why not start something new? he’d love to take you out. he hands you the phone. 

“‘I… like… you… too?’” you read out, squinting at the tiny font.

toge sees your heart stop, breaths caught in your throat, your cheeks warm— scratch that, you’re crying. 

wait, why were you crying?!

“takana!” 

“I-I’m so glad,” you sniffle,” I always liked you. I didn’t know how to say it. it was painful seeing you every day knowing how I felt, and- and thinking there wouldn’t ever be a chance you’d like me back!” you sob, burying your face in your hands as if it could hide anything, “and then when I gave the letter to you, I was so nervous, I-I should’ve stayed there or given you something you liked, but I panicked!” 

nervously, he inches his hand closer to yours. your watery eyes widen. “shake sushi,” he reaffirms. the circles he rubs over the back of your hand make you feel like he’s smoothing over creased paper on your skin. yes, he likes you too, so don’t worry. don’t cry. you may be crying, but if he were a dog, his tail would be wagging so wildly regardless. 

both of your hands grab one of his with shaky movements and a slew of hiccups. “I’ll try my best.”

“mentaiko.”

thank goodness.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend to lose weight?

Okay, so that sounds horrific, but bear with me.

To be clear, I (23M) could not care less what weight she (27F) is or what she looks like. I love this woman with my whole heart and none of it is about her appearance. We’re pretty much engaged in all but name, the only reason it’s not official is because we don’t have money to even think of weddings right now, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with her.

Thing is, she’s obese. Like, medically, not in a derogatory sense. This is massively affecting her health. She’s constantly out of breath, constantly in pain, constantly struggling, and it’s leading to other conditions such as sleep apnea. She thinks she has asthma because she’s always struggling to breathe, but I’m 95% sure it just comes down to weight and her doctor has said the same, but she tends to write it off as doctors being fatphobic.

Much of this is due to the fact that she used to struggle with binge-eating disorder. She no longer binge eats, but she does overeat in general because her body is so accustomed to constant food, so she gets painfully hungry and dizzy after 2-3 hours of not eating.

I’ve tried to encourage her to exercise with me, diet with me, count calories etc., but she gives up super easy when she doesn’t see immediately results. She also says herself that she finds it very difficult to see herself accurately - she has the reverse of “typical” body dysmorphia, where she sees herself as thinner than she is, so she genuinely sees herself as thin or like slightly curvy. (To be clear, she is very visibly obese, people comment on this often, and while I’ll be the first to go fists up if someone’s a dick to her about it as people have been I also am genuinely worried about her health.) Because of that she has no motivation to lose the weight because she just doesn’t see it. It’s bad enough that she’s been told by doctors she WILL likely struggle later in life with heart failure, diabetes etc if she doesn’t lose weight, yet her POV is more, “It can’t be that bad because I’m not that big so I don’t need to worry about it”. She has occasional reality checks, most recently she put her measurements into some site that shows an image of what you look like from a third person perspective, and she was completely shocked like “I can’t look like that. Do I? This is a wake up call”, but days later it’s completely lost and she’s back to saying she’s not that big again.

She wants kids with me, and I just absolutely do not want to commit to having children with her when I know there’s a not-insignificant chance she’ll have serious health issues in the future that could mean she’s not with us for as long as she could be. Both for the kids’ sake, and selfishly because I want her around! I don’t want to think about something happening to her earlier in life and being without her.

But I just don’t know what to do. Gently suggesting it hasn’t worked, saying I’m worried about her health hasn’t worked, saying I don’t want kids until she’s healthy hasn’t worked (even if she’s still overweight I really don’t care as long as she’s not in a “danger zone” y’know?), trying to meal plan with her hasn’t worked, trying to get her to keep track of calories hasn’t worked, trying to exercise with her hasn’t worked.

People I’ve asked in the past have told me to be firm about it, but I’m incredibly reluctant to do that - I struggled with anorexia for most of my teenage and adult life and I know how deep it can cut to have your weight criticised or commented on. I don’t want to be that dick who basically calls someone I love very much unhealthy and fat and tells her to lose weight or no kids or some horrible shit like that.

But I just. Can’t work out what to do. She does express a willingness to lose weight, she says she wants to, she just doesn’t have that motivation to do it. I don’t know what else we can try.

AITA for focusing on this in the first place? Like am I actually just being fatphobic, or is my own past with EDs influencing my thinking? Am I going about it all wrong? Should I just accept it as something that’ll be a potential issue in future and deal with it then or am I fair to worry about it early on?

What are these acronyms?

[raven-cincaide]

Different Ways To Love

Summary: The trio are curious about your love language. When you can’t answer it, they become determined to help you figure it out. And it most certainly does ‘not’ turn into a competition between them to find out what makes you feel the most loved. 

Pairing:  Fem reader x ItaFushiKugi (Yuji, Megumi, Nobara) Sweetober prompt 5: Love Language   WC 4.4K Warnings: Polyrelationship including kisses and hint at suggestive themes; cursing, basically-pure- fluff,

“My… love- what now?” Your brows were pulled together in concentration, lips set into a frown and the slightest tint of pink coloured your cheeks- the single giveaway to the embarrassment you felt. The pink turned reddish when the trio's expressions morphed into shock—dumbfounded that you didn’t understand their question when you obviously should have. “Is it some sex act or something you’re talking about something? eh..?”  

The three pair of eyes that blinked owlishly at you. They seemed at a total loss for words. On the other hand, you grew more nervous by the second; their blank expressions and total silence made you feel foolish and concerned that you were missing some kind of vital knowledge that even Itadori had. 

“Love Language-” Nobara started, then swallowed the bite of pizza in her mouth, “you know, what makes you feel loved-” 

“- or what you’d do for someone you love no matter how boring, annoying or a total waste of time because it is their love language?” Yuji added with a wide grin, though his description made Nobara glare daggers at him. Not that Yuji noticed as he pointed a thumb at Megumi, “His love language is-” 

“-oj don’t go announcing it to the world, idiot.” Megumi cut him off with a deathglare. “If Y/N doesn’t understand what it is, it won’t make a difference just to tell her. If anything, it will scare her off to adapt to three languages when she doesn’t even know her own.” Before Yuji could protest, Megumi’s fist made light contact with the top of Yuji’s head. Just enough to distract him from interrogating you about love and the whole love language concept that you struggled to grasp. 

“Yeah, think about someone else for a change, you dimwit” Nobara took another bite of her pizza with an unimpressed expression on her face, and you winced a little at her sharp tone. To your amazement, though, Yuji didn’t take the words to heart. If anything, they made his eyes light up while his lips set into a playful pout. “ Not everyone can just adapt on the fly like you.” 

“Hey, I am thinking!” he sounded like a kid who was just told he couldn’t eat all of his cookies before dinner. “I thought of turning it into a game, you know, then we can all take the time to learn each other's love languages and spend alone time with Y/N, win-win!” Yuji exclaimed with a wide grin.

“A game?” You sounded intrigued and tilted your head to the side. The idea of getting closer to each member of the trio one-on-one in a more romantic fashion was both nerve-wracking and exciting all at once. It also made the task seem more manageable to you. After all, it was one thing to learn to love one person, but to love three very different individuals with baggage you couldn’t even begin to understand was frightening. 

Daunting. Paralyzing. Yeah, one-on-one lessons were exactly what you needed.

“It could be… Interesting.” Megumi stated in between bites of his food. “It could improve our overall communication.”

“ Right!” Yuji sounded like he already won. “And, of course, we’d need a prize as well. You know, to keep it interesting.” 

A brief silence fell over the four of you until Nobara snapped her fingers as if she had gotten the best idea since the invention of sliced cheese. “Okay, so Y/N will guess our love language. Each right guess earns you the right to decide on that person's Halloween outfit. And the one who guesses your love language will get to go in a couple costume with you.” 

The other two groaned out loud. The idea of surrendering control over Halloween costumes did not sound appealing either. On the other hand, it solved the issue of who would go in a couple’s costume with you without turning into a four-way tacky situation. Maybe you’d even keep it simple and settle for something within a reasonable budget without the obnoxious amount of hair spray, and glitter which Nobara advocated for all summer. 

Slowly, you raised your hand like a child in middle- school. Instantly, the three-way banter grew silent, and their eyes snapped back to you. “We.. had plans for Halloween?” You asked timidly, only for the three of them to gasp. This time loudly. 

“Oh sweet summer child, you need to learn to.. L.I.S.T.E.N!” 

You gulped at their synchronised yell and occupied yourself with taking a far too large a bite of pizza to prevent yourself from saying something else stupid. But, you figured, if this were so important to the trio, you’d do your absolute best to learn their love language. And maybe while you were at it, you’d know your love language. In the worst case, you could lie and go for something broad and abstract to keep everyone happy. And you’d be happy because you’d get to spend time with them and probably learn all about the hype about Halloween and costumes. In other words, it is a definite win for your book. 

Although, if you were honest with yourself, experiencing three different love languages in one day felt a little … interesting. Intense but exciting. You just hoped you’d guess it right AND figure out your love language in the process.. Whatever that meant.  

You shouldn’t have been surprised that the next day started bright and early in the biggest shopping mall the main city street had to offer, nor should you have been surprised that Nobara’s love language was shopping. Thinking back, it was as apparent as the sky was blue and the grass was green. If she weren’t running missions or training, you’d find her in a shopping mall or scrolling through online sites for just the right dress, set of earrings or even a completely new style she’d wear for a week, then ditch. 

You had no clue how she fit all her stuff in the dorm rooms, and at this point, you were too afraid to ask. 

“So, Y/N, have you got your autumn closet ready? Sweaters, skirts, cute jeans?” Nobara asked as her eyes scanned from one storefront window to the next. Her mind quickly calculated the price based on the style, brand and design and matched up with your plan for the morning and budget. 

“Ehh, I’m not sure how much use they’ll be, you know?” You answered a little defensively as she pulled you into another store. Nobara steered you away from the discount section and towards the new releases. “I mean, it’s mission after mission in my case or training to keep up with you guys, so there isn’t much time to wear anything besides the uniform, the tracksuit or PJs.” 

“Sheesh, really? Well then, we need to plan more dates.” Nobara took a sweater dress off the rack and studied the pink knitted fabric with the small black bows for a long moment. They then held it up towards you. “Here, try this.” 

You looked the dress up and down, about to protest, but then surrendered and took it in your arms. You knew better than to dart off towards the changing rooms, not when Nobara had already set her eyes on the next prize- the section of the store.

 “Lingerie? Should I be here?” You joked. 

Nobara rolled her eyes. “Of course, you should be; you’re like the hardest to please, you know?” You raised an eyebrow in a ‘really?’ at that “Don’t give me like that. The guys are simple; Megumi likes blue, and with Yuji, it’s anything that shows off the ass. Seriously, just buy a thong or go commando, and he’s in high heaven.” 

You laughed at that as your eyes scanned over the different alternatives. Full cups with glitter and gems, leather with rhinestones, latex, sheer, lingerie that looked like a shibari which hung right next to a set with an obnoxious amount of frills. Your eyes lingered on the lacy ones, your attention captivated by a black set, sheer lace detailed with rhinestones and the tiniest satin lace connected to a thicker lace choker with a charm attached to it, which could be taken off. The panties matched the lacy, satin and gemstone esthetic. 

It was fancier than what you usually wore. 

You glanced over at Nobara, who was looking at a bright coral set, and then reached up, picking out the black set in your size and hiding it under the sweater dress she had asked you to try. You didn’t know why you were hiding it, but something about showing off sexy lingerie in front of Nobara made you feel a little self-conscious.  

“Ready to try something on?” You asked as Nobara, who circled the lingerie section for the second time without seeing anything she liked. Instead of answering you, she pushed you towards the changing rooms. 

You didn’t need to be told twice. 

The dress was different from your usual style. But you had to admit, it was gorgeous. You had almost forgotten how to look in casual cute clothes after all the time you spent training and being a sorcerer.  And Nobara picked just the right thing.  The dress seemed incredibly endearing, with the lingerie set peeking through, the choker matching in style and colour, and the small black bows of the dress. Indeed, the lace and collar teased the imagination.

“How does it look? Need me to get a different size,” You heard Nobara call from the other side of the door and smiled a little.

“Nope, all good, you have a seamstress's eye.” You twirled around, admiring how you looked for another moment before reality caught up with you. No matter how pretty, You’d never wear something like this. It was simply too far from your usual style, and something told you that this attire wouldn't have much use aside from a few hours shopping with Nobara or hanging with Yuji and Megumi. 

It's a waste of money. A huge waste of money. 

You moved to take it off and return to your more down-to-earth clothes before stepping out of the changing cabin and hanging everything back onto the hangers. At Nobara’s questioning look, you merely shook your head. “Didn’t suit me” " you lied before you walked ahead of her, heading out towards the next store. 

Three hours later, you were still thinking about the dress Nobara picked for you and the lingerie set. Everything you looked at in the other stores would be inadvertently compared to those items. By lunch, you regretted not buying them. But it was too late to head back to the first store. You were in an entirely different mall, and it would be a bother to ask Nobara- and all of her 15 bags- to walk back for something you lied about not fitting, especially when you were almost back home. So you pushed the thought to the back of your head, his your disappointment behind a smile, as the two of you entered the dorms. 

“It was surprisingly fun. We should do it again sometime” You smiled at her, a genuine one. Who could have thought walking from mall to mall would be this fun? You didn’t get why Megumi and Yuji would complain about this every single time.. 

“Pff, of course, it was fun; you went shopping with me!” Nobara flickered her hair over her shoulder in a cocky ‘told you so’ fashion before she began rummaging through the bags. From the largest one, she pulled out a smaller gift bag with a bow and colourful tissue paper peeking out from within. She stretched it towards you. 

A vift of sweet-smelling perfume filled your senses as you took it and peered inside.

“Oh, OH my god, Nobara, you’re insane!” you exclaimed as you jumped onto her, your arms around her neck in a suffocating hug. 

“H-hey wow there, g-get off! You’re smooshing me!” 

You ignored her complaints and hugged her tighter. You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t freaken believe it. You were still amazed, even as Nobara relented and stopped trying to pry you off and hugged you back. “Though if you’re gonna jump on me in happiness, the least you could do is kiss me.”

And you were too happy to comply with her pouty request. At least until Nobara finally pried you off herself and practically shoved you towards Megumi’s dorm room for lunch before he could come out, scold you two, and get you himself. 

You should have expected Megumi’s love language to be slightly less pronounced than Nobaras. Still, you did not expect to struggle so much. It was almost a little frustrating as you sat atop the counter in his kitchenette, legs swinging back and forth as Megumi cooked for the both of you. However, it looked more like he was trying to protect the produce from being eaten by you in its raw, newly-chopped form. 

“I swear we walked so much. I’m surprised how my feet are still attached to my body. Not to mention all the shopping. And then we headed to this newly opened mall across the city that I had no clue about.” 

“That’s Nobara for you.” 

“ I only found a few things while we were out since the morning, but somehow, Nobara managed to buy an entirely new wardrobe!” 

“That’s Nobara for you.” 

“-And there were some things in the first place where I tried on, and I kinda, I don’t know, felt iffy about spending so much money on like one and a half item I’d rarely wear no matter how cute it was so I put it back, which I kinda regretted, and somehow Nobara got them for me, can you imagine?!” 

“That’s Nobara for you.” Megumi’s free hand reached up and patted your knee while the other kept the stir-fry from burning. “I wanna see what you got.” 

You smiled at how he ducked his head down after the words left his lips, hiding the pink of his cheeks from you. But not the bright red ears. It was cute whenever Megumi spoke without thinking.

“I’d love to show it off for you!” You stole another piece of half-fried paprika before you made a move to jump down from the counter. Instantly, the hand on your knee reached up and steadied you before letting you bounce away to shower and change while he finished the last of your lunch. 

Some of you felt like he chased you away so that you would stop stealing the food. Still, you didn’t mind; it allowed you to get his opinion on the attire. You knew Nobara and Yuji would exaggerate whatever you put on, but Megumi he would be honest. A fact that you both treasured but also dreaded about him. 

You took longer than you needed just to reassure yourself that you looked good and that he would probably like it too. Though anxiety kept you bound in front of his bathroom mirror until you heard the unmistakable slam of plates against the table. Lunch was ready and you better not make it grow cold. 

You walked back into the kitchen with slumped shoulders.Stopped in front of the table, took a deep breath before you looked up to see his reaction. Instantly, you knew you had nothing to worry about, not from how Megumi’s eyes widened, his gaze eating you up.  The pronounced way his Adam's apple bobbed as you did a little twirl, then tilted your head to the side. “What do you think? Of course, it’d be more special with, you know, curled hair, makeup and such.” 

“It suits you.” Megumi swallowed again before he patted the spot beside him at the table. The sight of the food made your stomach growl.

Oh right, God, you were hungry,

You sat beside Megumi and instantly reached for your potion of food while Megumi poured each of you a drink. He handed it to you, and your fingers brushed against each other as you took it. Megumi didn’t pull away; instead, he moved lower and brushed his fingertips over your hand. “You don’t need make-up or fancy hair to wear the dress; you look pretty like this.” 

Then, just as quickly as he said it, he let your hand go and picked up his chopsticks instead. 

Megumi’s cheeks were the colour of cherry tomatoes. His hand reached up and brushed his hair out of his face. You quickly recognised the nervous action, a worry that you mistook his words for an insult. It made you smile brightly, before you took a bite of the stir-fri, instantly complementing his cooking skills. You saw his shoulders relax at the unmistakable change of topic and begin eating lunch. 

“So, what were you up to all morning?” You asked once the immediate starving sensation was satisfied. 

“I went over and drew up the timeline and the criteria to cast a veil that Gojo-sensei went through during the last class.” Megumi motioned towards the stacks of papers on his table; all spread out into a vast map-like structure. 

“Ohh, there's no way you figured it out?” You abandoned your food and rushed over to the table, eager to satisfy your curiosity, or more like, to see how far off your understanding was from the correct answer. Your mood soured when you realised you completely misunderstood Gojo-sensei’s lesson. 

Megumi followed you; his meal was already finished. “It’s not that hard”, he tried to comfort you. “You start by following the main case criteria. It’s called the main case because most of our hunting jobs will fall into it, and only when something doesn’t fit, you divert.” 

The smile on your lips only grew as Megumi picked up a spare sheet of paper and slowly began going through the graph he drew up with you. He didn’t seem frustrated or bored but patiently took his time until you could honestly say you understood it. Or at least understood it while you sat in Megumi’s chair and Megumi stood behind you, correcting your mistakes and answering your questions. 

“You’re the best, Gumi!” you grinned out of the blue, the joy in your eyes unmistakable. Turning your head, you kissed his cheek. Half of it was for your amazement and study session, and the other half was the bubbly feeling of having figured out what Megumi’s love language was. A bubbly feeling that led to a kiss and another kiss. A wandering hand, another kiss and–

“Hey! No fair, Y/N, you promised to spend time with me!” Yuji’s whined echoed through the thick front door into Megumi’s room, followed by a clawing sound like a cat or a dog trying to get in. 

A mental image that made you giggle against Megumi’s lips. 

Megumi’s expression was less than pleased as he pulled back from you, readjusting your clothes and hair for you. “That’s Yuji for you.” He sighed and stole another kiss before he let you go. 

After all, it wouldn’t be a fair game if you didn’t get a fair chance to experience all three love languages- even if letting you go was the last thing he wanted to do. Then again, the longer you kept the pink-haired idiot waiting, the more depressed he’d get and the louder his wails that ‘Y/N doesn’t love me’ would get.

 A headache that Megumi wasn’t willing to deal with. 

And neither were you, for that matter.  

You had to admit Yuji’s love language was probably the most obvious aside from Nobara’s. The second you stepped out of Megumi’s dorm room, Yuji pulled you towards the commonroom, where he had set up popcorn, soda and other junk food in front of the couch. 

Human Earth five was already set up; the flashy title stretched over the screen. 

“Haven’t you watched it like five times already?” You muttered as you settled down beside him on the couch. Yuji lay on his side, stretched out, his back against the back of the sofa and head propped up on his arm. His hand was on your waist, and his fingers drew circles on your dress. “Yeah, but you haven’t seen it!” Yuji motioned towards a piece of caramel popcorn. 

You rolled your eyes as you stretched a piece to him. “And? It won’t be fun for you to watch.” 

“How dare you say that about Human Earth Worm. It has so many little details that it’s worth watching a dozen- no, a hundred times” Yuji was ready to defend Human Earth Worm to the end. 

“I swear you’re just in it for the yuck and the gore.” You took another bite of popcorn and surrendered to your fate. At least you had enough sugar, candy and coffee-based treats to keep you awake throughout the film. Yuji started the film and was instantly engrossed in it. Like there was nothing else in the world besides you, him, snacks and Human Earth Worm.

Admittedly, you weren’t watching the film. 

Instead, you were much more focused on Yuji. The way he ever so often pressed his lips to the top of your head, or the way his hand left your waist to grab a snack, offer it to you when you refused, then he’d eat it, and the hand would be back on your waist again, thumb rubbing circles. The cycle repeated several times, including with the same treats, to the point that you understood that he was doing it automatically as his mind was engrossed in the movie. 

That fact made you laugh. 

“..You’re not watching it”, Yuji pouted when he heard you laugh at the wrong moment in the movie. 

You laughed a little more at that, nervously. “Guilty as charged.” 

“Aww, no fair! You spend all day with Megumi and Nobara, you don’t lo-” You cut Yuji’s whine with a kiss on his lips, your lips moving against his until you ran out of air. 

“-You don’t-” You shut him up with another kiss. You could feel the grin on his lips, like a cat that got cream. 

Another pause for air. 

 “Love m-” another kiss. 

You intended to keep his whining at bay with kisses; Yuji planned to exploit that, the movie long forgotten. 

“Yucks get a room.” The sudden voice startled you and made you pull away from each other. You glanced up at the intruder standing over you two.

Nobara wore an expression that held a hint of annoyance and something else. Instantly you felt your face flush and moved to sit up to make room for her. Yuji didn’t move- either intentionally or too dazed from the kisses, and Nobara didn’t hesitate to sit down on his face.

“Agreed with Nobara. Let’s keep PDA private.” Megumi stepped into the room with a sigh and sat on the other end of the couch, leaned his weight against Yuji’s legs and shifted your thighs into his lap. His hand rested comfortably on your bare legs as he reached for a gummy bear, studied it, then changed his mind and fed it to you- a small gesture to distract you from the ungodly sounds that were part of Nobara-Yuji interaction – If it could even be called that. 

The four of you finally settled down when the end credits began playing on the screen. Admittedly you felt a little guilty. You knew the movie was important to Yuji and felt a little bad that you hadn’t watched a minute of Human Earth Worm Five. In fact you had forgotten all about the movie until it ended- far too preoccupied with trying to sit comfortably on the couch not meant for four people. Your guilt lessened as the trio placed an empty bowl with crumpled pieces of paper in front of you – Yuji, Nobara and Megumi’s guesses for your love language.

But first, you had to guess theirs. 

With confidence, you pointed your finger at Yuji- “Physical touch and attention?” The grin on his face told you you were right. 

You moved on to Nobara “- Shopping and gift giving?” The quiet Bingo from Nobara gave you a much-needed boost of confidence as you turned to Megumi- the one you were least confident about. “I am less sure, but acts of service?” 

Megumi frowned ever so slightly a minute which made your heart pound so freakin loudly in your chest. Until he finally he chuckled and nodded. “You got that right” 

“Meanie!” You huffed, biting into a cookie. “You could have just said yes directly.” 

“ And you didn’t need to point out my love language was the hardest for you to guess” Megumi shrugged and leaned in for a kiss. 

You purposefully ducked down and planted one on Nobara’s lips instead. Then Yuji’s. Then back to Nobara’s lips until Megumi lost patience and tugged you away from her with force. The way Megumi kissed you was different from the gentle pecks you placed on Nobara and Yuji’s lips. It was hungry, possessive and a little greedy. A definite pick-up-from-where-we-left off after lunch. The way his tongue swirled with yours in that way that drove you wild, made you think with your legs instead of your head, made it obvious you shouldn’t stay in the public space much longer. And if you were entirely honest, you’d much rather spend some time acting out love than discussing its language. 

After the kiss, you were the first to stand, Megumi up behind you in seconds. Then Nobara, followed by Yuji, who had been too focused on the sweets and the game to notice the atmosphere shift. 

“Hey, what about Y/N’s love language?” He called out as he was suddenly left all alone in the commonroom

“Shut it, you idiot,” Nobara called over her shoulder, more focused on following you and Megumi to the bedroom.

“But-” 

“Quiet or I’ll make her dress you as a pumpkin this year!” 

A moment passed, the penny dropped, and then a loud “Hey, wait for me, I gotta pick up condoms from my bag!” echoed around the entire dormitory. 

Talk about announcing to dormitory that you’d be fucking tonight… 

Author note: Did I just write three mini fics in one and round it up into something three-way fluffy? Yes, yes I did. Hope you enjoyed it! Also, finally, all the first week fics are re-uploaded. Now stay tuned cuz tonight comes out the next fic in the masterlist <3Go over there and let me know if you wanna be tagged <3

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[prize-pig-collection]

5:27

The doorbell rings, and startles you awake. You passed out on the living room couch again, after your feeder filled you with enough blueberry pie and vanilla ice cream that making it all the way to bed just wasn’t gonna happen.

You look down as best as you can, and see the edge of your third chin, and your chest covered in pie crumbs. You spot a smear of blueberry filling, and instinctively scoop in into your mouth.

Speaking of instincts, you know that it must be the first food delivery of many. Your feeder has to make sure you stay busy while they’re away at work. You’re not even sure where it’s from, your feeder’s taken care of it. But you’ve been known to dutifully gobble it up, no matter what.

You’re still feeling a little full from last night, but knowing that there’s food to be eaten kicks your appetite into high gear. You yawn loudly—it’s probably not even noon yet, so early!—and a few drops of drool escape your lips. It’d be embarrassing if you could think of anything besides how hungry you are.

Time to get up off the couch. You start by scooting forward, and spreading your legs a bit, so that your belly hangs over the side. Then you start rocking back and forth to give yourself some momentum, and push yourself to your feet. You’re a little unsteady. Of course, you spend most of your time in bed or on the couch, so you’re a little out of practice. But on top of that, with how much you’ve been eating, it feels like there’s more weight to adjust to every time you manage to stand up. You can’t be growing that fast, though, can you?

Back to the task at hand: getting to the door. The cascade of rolls on your legs means they’re rubbing against each other as you move. It’s hard to tell because you obviously can’t see down there… but are they rubbing all the way to your knees? That’s new.

Your gut feels like it must be hanging lower than you remembered, too. Again, not because you can see it, but because you can feel it, slapping against your thighs as you shuffle along. You hope the delivery driver will be long gone by the time you make it to the door; even though it’s obvious how massive you are, you don’t want them to see your belly hanging out of a stained, stretched-out 6X t-shirt.

The pillows of lard you call hips are bouncing wildly with every move. No surprise, as lately you’ve felt as if you’re a little bit higher up on the couch. It’s sinking more every day, but you’re piling on more blubber to make up for it and then some.

Your chest must not want your hips to feel alone, because it’s jiggling just as much, if not more. It’s hard to tell the difference between your chest and your side rolls these days. It’s basically just one big mass of flesh, currently smacking up against your hanging arm rolls.

All this movement is taking its toll on you. You feel the way you used to when you had to get up a flight of stairs, except now there’s no elevation to blame for how unfit you’ve become. You’re dripping with sweat all over; wheezing uncontrollably; your heart feels like it’s about to burst through your chest; even your vision is slowing fading in and out at the edges. The clearest sign yet that this 30-foot walk is pushing you to your absolute limit.

Even the floor underneath you seems to be struggling. I guess it wasn’t built by someone who could imagine one of its occupants would be so big. That’s weird, though, you’re fat, but not that fat, right??

Slowly but surely, you make your way to the door. As much of a struggle as this is, you’d do anything to get more food down your throat.

You half-jokingly consider opening the door by leaning your considerable weight against it, and tearing it off the hinges, but you collect yourself. You’d squish all the food under the door, and you can’t have that. With your last bit of strength, you pull the door open.

As you recover from your arduous journey, you start to piece together the scene on the other side of the door. Yes, there’s six bags of your favorite fast food, but not on the ground. They’re in the hands of… your feeder?

“5 minutes and 27 seconds, piggy. God, you’ve really let yourself go,” they say with a knowing smile.

You’re not in the mood. “Hungry…” you plead.

“Oh I know. You’re always hungry! That’s what makes you such a good pig.”

“Don’t…wanna…” you pause to catch your breath. A full sentence is just too much work in your condition.

“You don’t want to what? Eat? I really doubt that.”

“Move…ever…again. Too… much… work.”

“I had a feeling today might be the day, that’s why I’m here! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. Whatever my piggy wants, that’s what they get. Let’s get you back inside, second breakfast is already on its way. You better eat this all quick!”

Luckily for you, that’s the one thing you’re still very, very good at…

[johnkahner]

Hii there! How are u doing😁? If requests are still open I wanted to ask if u could write something about an idea that came to my mind.

It's from MK1 and the thing goes like this: the reader (I picture it female but if u feel more comfortable doing gender neutral it's 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻) has a thing for Syzoth but since he has feels with Ashrah she keeps her distance and tries to forget about him. After some time Kung Lao sees this and goes like 'My turns assholes!' and he invites the reader to a dinner at Madam's Bo.

She accepts, thinking that she'll be able to have some good time with him. But when the night comes Syzoth appears like "Hey guys what a coincidence" during the dinner.

Basically Syzoth has finally got interest in the reader and having overheard about the date with Kung Lao a little bit of jealousy came over him. So he and Kung Lao pass all night throwing puns at each other and trying to get their s/o attention.

I just imagine the moment when dinner is served and Kung Lao be like "Yeah, didn't you mention earlier that you couldn't digest human food?" And Syzoth be like "Pfff... Lies" and eats something. Spoiler: he can't.

Well, I hope you have a nice day and thanks for your time pretty person😊😌.

AN: Hello, I'm doing alright! I appreciate all the Syzoth I can get lol. Thank you for calling me pretty also 😳. I wasn't sure how to start writing this, but I just went with the flow lol. Enjoy the story! Not proof read.

Notes: Female! Reader, Syzoth and Kung Lao are jealous of each other.

Syzoth and you were sitting down under a tree just relaxing. He seemed to be fidgeting like he was nervous about something. His actions were concerning you. He’s your closest friend, and not to mention the you 

“What’s bothering you Syzoth?”

“Oh. Um, It’s nothing.”

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

He opens his mouth, but hesitates for a moment.

“I have a crush on someone.”

“Ooo! Who’s the lucky person?!”

Your heart flutters at his words, but the feeling is gone soon at what he says next.

“Ashrah.”

You felt awkward after that interaction. As time went on, you slowly started to distance yourself from Syzoth. You weren’t sure why you were doing this. When others were noticing this they would ask either you or Syzoth. You would ignore them, and poor Syzoth he would tell them he had no idea either. 

One person saw this as the time to strike, and by strike that means to ask you on a date. This certain someone was none other than Kung Lao.

“Hey, would you like to join me later for dinner at Madam Bo’s?”

“Is this a date, Kung Lao?”

“Of course! Not to mention I’ll be paying for the two of us.”

“My, what a gentleman you are!” 

The two of you are laughing, and you’re slapping his shoulder. After discussing a time for this date you both fail to notice that you were being watched. Syzoth was watching the two of you talk. He missed the interactions the two of you had. He feels as if he did something wrong to you, but he doesn’t know what. He decides that he will “coincidentally” show up at the diner at the same time as the two of you. 

—

Kung Lao and you sit down at a table. Getting ready to order your dinner the two of you were looking at the menus. You hear a pair of footsteps stop at your table, and you think it’s a waitress about to ask if you two are ready to order. Before you look up the person speaks up.

“Well, isn't this a coincidence?”

You look up to see none other than Syzoth. Before you could say anything Kung Lao speaks with an agitated look on his face.

“Yes. Isn’t it? Why don’t you join us?”

He pats the spot beside him.

“Here’s a seat right here with your name on it.”

Not long after he sits down, the waitress appears to take your orders. Kung Lao and you order your food with no problem, but Syzoth struggles with what to pick. After a few minutes of everyone trying to help him pick something to eat. 

The energy at the table is tense, but while waiting for the food to arrive Kung Lao and Syzoth are taking jabs at each other. 

“Elder Gods, your breath stinks! Do you even brush your teeth?”

Or,

“At least with my strength in my Zettarian form, I don’t need to rely on a stupid hat.”

You were baffled. The two of them were acting like children. You weren’t really saying much, just sipping on your drink watching the two bicker. Syzoth was looking at you with the occasional glare towards Kung Lao, and Kung Lao vice versa to him. 

When Syzoth saw you with Kung Lao it made his heart feel numb. He hated how the feeling felt. Then a thought hit him, was this why you were avoiding him. When he confessed his feelings about Ashrah to you because afterwards was when you distanced yourself from him.

Kung Lao was pissed. This was his chance to get with you, and this lizard was getting in his way! Syzoth already had his chance to get with you, and he didn’t seize the opportunity to make you his girlfriend. Hell, Kung Lao even waited a week or two just to make sure it would be a good moment! 

—

The food arrives. Kung Lao and you were enjoying your meals. You look over to see if Syzoth was at least enjoying the food. You didn’t know much about Zettarian appetites. It seems that the food wasn’t to his liking. He was just picking at it. 

“Is the food not to your liking, Syzoth?”

You were concerned, and thought that it would be something he might like. He looks paranoid, and he’s about to answer your question till Kung Lao speaks up before him. Kung Lao has a devilish smirk on his lips. 

“Hey, now that I think about it, around the time we met you said something about not being able to digest human food?”

Syzoth looks panicked for a moment, but quickly relaxes himself. He lies to the two of you.

“Pffff... You’re lying to make me look like a fool.” 

He shoves some food into his mouth. The taste is not anything he is used to, but it tastes decent enough. 

Throughout the night the three of you eat some more, and order some dessert. However, Syzoth’s stomach had other plans. He quickly stands up and before he rushes out of the restaurant he says.

“Apologies, but I must leave real quick. If I don’t return before it’s time to pay the check, I promise to pay you two back.” 

Kung Lao laughs as he watches Syzoth scurry away. You watch with a look of concern.”

“I hope he’s alright.”

“I knew it! He couldn’t handle human food!”

You look at Kung Lao with a look that just says “seriously?”, and that causes him to laugh even more.

[lotanxiety]

You’re not alone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean and Sam notice you aren’t taking good care of yourself and they are worried about you. Dean talks you through it and offers support.

Warnings: mentions of ED, SH, and depression, this has some seriously heavy shit so if this triggers you PLS don’t read, fluff with dean

——————————————————

You have lived in the bunker with the boys for 3 years. Lately, your mental health has been really bad, but you were trying to hide it from Sam and Dean. With everything they dealt with on a daily basis, the last thing you wanted them to worry about was you.

It all started 4 months ago when you started having nightmares and flashbacks of the times you almost died. You were pretty sure you had PTSD, but with your lifestyle, therapy wasn’t really an option. You grew up with abusive parents which didn’t help with the accumulating trauma. The body keeps score and it seemed to all be catching up with you now. First, it was the nightmares, then the dissociating. The only times you felt alive were when you would fight monsters which led to your newest bad habit.

Whenever you didn’t feel real or got angry with yourself for whatever reason, you would take it out on your hips. It was something you could control. It reminded you that you’re real and it’s served as a punishment when you felt you deserved it. Seeing the red lines across your hips made you happy when everything else seemed grey.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, it was increasingly more difficult to get out of bed each morning. You would forget basic human necessities like eating, drinking, or bathing. You were able to hide your struggles before, but now it’s becoming noticeable. On the days the boys were home, you would fake it the best you could so they wouldn’t pick up on anything wrong, but not anymore. Maybe you want someone to notice. Maybe you finally want to be saved and cared for the way you save others.

———————-

*around noon*

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” Dean asked Sam walking into the kitchen.

“No, I haven’t seen her all day.” Sam said. “Have you noticed.. she seems a little quiet lately. I also noticed she’s been having more nightmares lately.”

“I noticed that too, I can hear her scream out sometimes. I mean we all get nightmares, but these seem bad. Have you not talked to her about it at all?” Dean questioned.

“No, I thought you would’ve mentioned it.” Sam said.

“Dude, she’s obviously going through something and neither of us have checked up on her? Way to go.” Dean scoffed as he headed in the direction of your room.

—————————

You were laying on your bed, staring at the wall thinking of all the ways you have messed up lately. The last hunt you were out on, you made a mistake that almost got Sammy killed. Now, you opt to stay back and reference the lore. You replayed every mistake over and over in your head. Suddenly a knock interrupts your ‘greatest hits’.

You clear your throat, “um, who is it?” you ask.

“It’s Dean, can i come in.”

You look around to the mess of your room, random items taking up space on your bed with you. Suddenly, you become embarrassed and ashamed. “I- uh, do you need something?” You shout to the man on the other side of the door.

“I haven’t seen you all day, I just wanted to check up on you. Are you feeling okay?” Dean asks with concern.

*coughing loudly* “No I think I’ve come down with something, you should stay away.” You say, trying to sound sickly.

“Oh, ok. I can bring you some soup if you like” Dean asks, knowing you’re lying but trying to get through to you.

“I’m not hungry, thanks though” You say, pushing any kind of help away. You didn’t understand why you do this. You want help but then it comes and you resist at all costs. Maybe because this mess you’re feeling is comfortable, familiar. You’ve always been messed up, but now it’s just manifesting on the outside. When it was bottled up, it was easy to hide from everyone, but this is much harder and every lie you tell drains you more and more.

“You need to eat” Dean contested.

“I said no, now can you please go” The words felt like knives being thrown at the closed door. You didn’t mean to be so aggressive, but Deans pushing set off a nerve. Immediately you felt bad, but knew you couldn’t look at his face so you sat still in your bed as you heard hushed footsteps fade away. Feeling hot tears burn in your eyes, you walked over to your bathroom, and grabbed your razor. Anger towards yourself coursed through your veins, into your hands, as you unleashed hell onto your body. Saying to yourself, “You deserve this for being mean to Dean, he was just trying to be nice. He doesn’t deserve that. What’s wrong with you, etc.”

When you’re satisfied, your hips are stained red. You clean up and go back to laying in your bed, as you cry yourself to sleep.

——————-

That evening

“I don’t know Sammy, I think there’s something really wrong. Earlier- the way she spoke to me. It wasn’t her. I need to talk to her, to see her face, but she keeps pushing me away. I don’t know what to do. I’m worried… I’m worried it’s worse than just nightmares.” Dean confides to his brother.

“Yeah, I’m worried too. Maybe we can set up a movie night in the Dean cave and coax her out of her room. I think having some quality time, not worried about monsters could help.” Sam suggested.

“Okay, yeah. You run to the store and get some supplies and I’ll break out blankets and pillows. Meet back here in 30.” Dean says hopeful. He hated knowing that you were upset, but he wanted this to help so badly. He worked hard at getting his Dean cave set up perfectly. He even made a blanket fort. Once Sam and Dean finished setting everything up, the came to knock on your door.

You had just woken up from your restless nap. Unfortunately, the day wasn’t even over so you were back to laying in misery. You heard another knock on your door.

“Hey uh, we need your help in the Dean cave” Dean said from behind the door, you could almost hear the smile in his voice even though you couldn’t see him. While most other times you would decline, your curiosity got the best of you.

“Uhh okay, let me use the bathroom and I’ll be right there.” You said, getting up from your bed, ignoring the terrible headache. It stemmed from a combination of lack of food, water, good sleep, and crying so much. You looked in the mirror, repulsed by the face staring back at you, so you got to work making yourself as presentable as possible. After a much need brush through your hair (and teeth), a change of clothes, and some light makeup, you felt okay enough to make your public appearance. You left your bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind you to hide the mess, and headed towards the Dean cave.

When Dean and Sam laid their eyes on you for the first time in days, their mouths dropped. You looked awful. Bags under your eyes and barely skin and bone. You were always skinny, but this- this was bad. Both of the brothers concern immediately sky rocketed, but being as smart as they are, they knew to play it off. They knew if they outright said anything, you’d get defensive and shut down. So they quickly glanced at each other and greeted you like any other day. You were too busy looking at the scene in front of you to notice the boys faces.

“What- what is all this” you say surveying the room in awe.

“We thought you could use a little pick me up movie night.” Sam said with a soft smile on his face. Dean turned away from you to face the tv. It was too hard to look at you. He blamed himself for not checking on you sooner. For not immediately knowing there was something deeper going on. The cases had distracted him from the problem right under his nose and he was so angry at himself. You instantly noticed the change in his demeanor, making you uneasy. You thought he was still mad at you for the way you spoke to him earlier in the day. You made a mental note to apologize later. Sam opened up the blanket to let you sit beside him and so you did. In front of you, there was a whole display of food. Burgers, fries, popcorn, candy, you name it. The sight instantly made you nauseous.

You thought that you didn’t deserve food. Your mind = your greatest enemy. You pretended not to notice the food and encouraged them to start the movie. It was Alice In Wonderland- your favorite childhood movie you let slip one night with Dean after a beer too many. You glance across Sam to Dean who is staring at the TV but not actually watching. Sam nudges some fries in your direction, to which you shake your head.

“No thanks” you whisper over the beginning scene of the movie.

“Cmon Y/N, you haven’t eaten all day.” Sam said.

“Oh no, I had some granola bars in my room. I’ve been snacking on those-“ You lied.

“No you haven’t” Dean said finally speaking to you.

“What-“ you say looking at him confused, trying to play this off quickly.

“I’m not sure you’ve eaten anything in days” Dean starts.

“Dean-“ Sam interjects, trying to keep his brother from pushing you away.

“No, Sammy. She’s sick. Look at her.” Dean states.

Immediately, tears well up in your eyes. You knew you didn’t look your best but hearing Dean say that. It was too much. You wanted to head straight to your room to cut again, but Dean wasn’t finished talking.

“Y/N, I can’t walk on eggshells about this- you look terrible. What is going on?” Dean says in a much softer tone than before, his anger fading into worry.

“Nothings… going on.” you say.

“That’s not true and we all know it, can you just talk to us?” Sam asks.

Suddenly, that defense mechanism hits you strong and you attack the boys you love more than anything. You can’t help it. “I SAID I’M FINE. WOULD YOU BOTH JUST LEAVE ME ALONE AND GO BACK TO WORRYING ABOUT MONSTERS OR WHATEVER” you shout, exiting the room and heading straight for your bedroom.

You close the door behind you, still crying. The scene that just played out was one of your worst nightmares and partially why you have started staying locked in your room. You beeline for the bathroom to pick up the razor for a second time that day. You roll down your pants to the hidden canvas. Right before you can move, Dean bursts through your door.

You both freeze. Time stops for a couple seconds. Every mirage and illusion you’ve built over the past few months is shattered. The ugly, dirty truth is exposed. Your walls crumble to the ground. You refuse to lift your eyes from the ground as he approaches you. He takes the razor from your hands without saying a word and throws it to the other side of the bathroom and grabs you into his arms. You both crash to the floor, as you sob into chest. Dean hold you patiently while you let it all out. Everything you’ve been holding inside. There are a million thoughts going through Dean’s head, questions he has, but his main objective is just to be there for you. You needed him, and he wasn’t there. All the warning signs, ignored. He secretly blamed himself for letting it get this bad.

You both sit in the floor of your bathroom for a while. Your sobs slowly turned into quiet hiccups for air. You nervously lifted off of his chest, anxiously awaiting the conversation to follow the events that have just transpired. You finally make eye contact with Dean, his eyes are glassy and red.

“I’m sorry Y/N” Dean said barely above a whisper dragging his hand over your hair to brush it out of your tear soaked face.

You open and close your mouth, not expecting his response. “What are you sorry for?” you ask confused.

“I- I wasn’t there for you. I mean I knew something was off, but- but this. This is all my fault.” Dean says moving his hand to hold your cheek, a singular tear falling down his right cheek.

“No, no this isn’t your fault at all. I- I don’t know what to say.” You say, feeling the weight of the situation.

“You don’t have to say anything. We are going to get you some help. You’re not alone in this. You have Sam. You have me. This- this work is hard and I know you’ve had it rough, but you can and will get through this.” Dean says, as more tears begin to fall from your eyes, though you thought you couldn’t cry anymore.

“I need you to get better. I need my Y/N. Can you do that for me?” Dean asks, gently stroking your cheek and wiping the tears as they fall. You nod.

That night, the three of you work on tidying up your room. Dean filled Sam in privately and he wanted to help you in anyway he could. You guys went back to the Dean cave after your room was clean, and ate dinner. Dean even drank water with you instead of his normal beer so you would be more inclined to drink it.

Finally, it was time for bed. Dean walked to your room with you. “I wish you would’ve told me what has been going on with you, but I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t” Dean said.

“You didn’t- I just didn’t want you to worry about me when you’ve got a whole world and billions of people to worry about.” You say in response.

“I will always worry about you first. I care about you Y/N. I am here for you no matter what.” Dean says firmly, pulling you in for a hug. His chin rests on your head as you two stand in an embrace mid hallway.

“Dean, could you maybe- um stay with me tonight?” You ask.

“Of course”

Dean grabs your hand and pulls you towards your bed. He strips down to his boxers and climbs in, holding a spot next to him for you. You curl up next to him, feeling the heat radiate off his body, comforting you. “Thank you” you whisper as you quickly drift off into a much needed, nightmare free, deep sleep. Dean leans over to kiss your head as he whispers, “I love you Y/N”.

[girlishwhimsies]

unfortunately i HAVEEEEE to yap about my modern qpr pbj college au cause im thinking about it all the time and have to share

first of all it includes wheelchair user johnny my beloved 🫶 but basically the gang is all the same but johnny wasn’t ever part of it, im not sure where he lived but not in tulsa (i have a whole backstory about him and his parents in this au don’t play, i WILL drop it) he also got emancipated from his parents at 16/17 and was able to get an okay enough job to afford

pony gets assigned as johnnys roommate and they meet on move in day, soda and darry meet him then too. and they all IMMEDIATELY get attached to this poor kid, dawg for sure looks worse for wear he is smalllll and owns like 4 shirts. also doesn’t have many possessions!! so ofc they all love him so bad and soda and darry pretty much force him to get dinner with them and pay for it (they are broke but damn it they will be making sure this kid eats something)

pony doesn’t know anyone at school so he is like okay i need johnny to be my best friend and they just click instantly, attached at the hip! them slowly trusting each other more tho cause even if they click they both have built up Walls and finally feeling safe around each other, telling each other about their parents. pushing their beds together cause pony has nightmares and being closer to someone helps him. them having the biggest fattest most pathetically down bad queer platonic crushes on each other but not knowing exactly what they are feeling and just ough

pony finding out johnny doesn’t have any thanksgiving plans and forcing him to come back to tulsa with him and meet the gang :( johnny just fitting right in and watching from the corner just soaking up all the excitement from the people around him and being so shocked and happy when they include him in on things! he also clicks so well with two bit who clocks his ass so bad so quick within like 10 minutes (soda clocks pony within this time period as well) and corners him! johnny is lowkey scared shitless but two-bit is just excited for him and tells him it’ll turn out fine etc etc (and also makes a bet with steve that they’ll be together before christmas) also they go to stores and steal together i fear it’s so important to me

after thanksgiving pbj getting even closer, spending so much of their free time together!!! but all good things must crash down at some point (at least for a little bit)

pony catching johnny on his computer snooping and copying his work onto his own page…. pony just loses it he’s already been so stressed this week and he’d scared of failing and he just doesn’t get why johnny would be doing this and he trusts johnny so bad so what if he is just using him!! meanwhile johnny is freaking the FUCK out cause his learning disability ass has been struggling and he can barely even read (audio books and voice to text is this man’s best friend!!) and he just couldn’t handle going through all these hoops this time so he tried this but he messed up so he just panics as pony is yelling and blurts out that he can’t read real well and BOLTS

pony after that really be standing there like 🧍‍♂️panicking and calling his brothers cause he doesn’t know what the fuck just happened or how to process it!! meanwhile johnny is outside FREEZING cause it’s right before winter break and doesn’t know where to go for the night and plans to drop out in the morning cause he doesn’t know what the fuck he was thinking trying to go to school and his phone is at 1% so he uses the last bit of his battery to send the gc with all the gang a text with “thank you so much for all your kindness, i ain’t ever gonna forget all y’all did for me” before his phone dies and he can’t get another charger

so now EVERYONES freaking out and as soon as morning hits the gang all drive up to the college and pony with their help HUNTS through campus!! ofc johnny sees them from afar a few times and BOLTS away cause he doesn’t wanna get caught since he thinks they all hate him (he has thousands of missed messages and calls since the night before) til they finally corner his ass and finally get him to properly communicate

pony teaching johnny how to write and read slightly better and he gets a job at the thrift store :( he goes home with the curtis’s for christmas and new years and spring and summer break!!!

anyway this isn’t even like half the lore man and i hope you all love my insane little au that’s far too important to me!!!

[apollodarling-writes]

pls that one pulse motion fic pt2 with könig or ghost from cod I am BEGGING 😭😭🙏🙏 any reader idc I JUST NEED MOREEETETE

tws: possessive behavior, slight delusional behavior, reader is cornered, konig uses intimdation tactics, very obvious threats, slight manipulation??, kind of bloodthirsty könig, mentions of creeps, könig bypasses his coding and his eyes change :)) lmk if i missed anything.

you glide the tips of your fingers against the scratchy material of könig’s arm, marveling at how sturdy his bicep was with burning cheeks. in his left hand was a manila folder titled handling and instructions. you pry it out of his grasp, struggling a bit against his stiff grip, but succeed in acquiring it. you settle beside him, sitting in a position most comfortable for prolonged seating, and scan over the instructions.

you flip through a few pages, going over what all your cyborg needs to be properly functional, finding that he only really need charging once a week and he will inform you of any updates that he needs. könig doesn’t require any food, but he is able to eat if be so desires. basic information about updates, coding instructions for people who are into that, blah blah blah…

"ah! there it is."

you follow the instructions step by step. first, press and hold the button on the top of his head for five seconds. you lift his mask, turning your head and blindly sifting through locks of his hair to find said button. it takes you a few frustrating minutes to find the small button embedded at the very top of his scalp, huffing as you push it. you quickly place his sniper hood back into place, keeping your eyes elsewhere. second, state your first and last name. third, state your preferred pronouns and state your use for him. then, enjoy!

you hear a faint hum as the cyborg whirrs to life, eyes lighting up behind his sniper hood and taking in his surroundings.

“you must be [name].” könig says, a thick german accent showing in his vowels. könig stands and you follow suit, extending a hand with a giddy smile.

“yes, that’s me. it’s a pleasure to meet you.” you murmur, dazed at how tall he was compared to you. the two of you spend the rest of the day getting to know each other, finding that you get along swimmingly, and when you turn in for the night, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

months fly by with the large man by your side, your crush on him growing more and more apparent by the day. you felt a little perverted— he was a cyborg. wouldn’t it be wrong to be with him? did he even feel the same way? and so, to move on with your life, you decide to find someone else, downloading a dating app while sitting in the living room and setting up your profile.

swipe after swipe after swipe, you struggle find someone that matches your preferences. after another thirty minutes, you finally find someone. ecstatic, you quickly swipe right and within minutes the two of you matched. the conversation goes exceptionally well and with the two of you hitting it off quickly, you set up a date for tomorrow night.

“what are you doing?” königs voice startles you, sounding slightly strained. you flinch at the sudden appearance, spinning around and excitedly telling him about your plans for tomorrow evening. könig is oddly quiet after that.

“…könig?” your voice sounds small as he slowly rounds the corner of the couch, his footsteps silent as he moves. he comes to a halt in front of you, leaning down as his breathing grows labored.

“why would you go out with that… man when you have me?” könig grits out as he places each arm on either side of you, caging you between his broad chest and the cushions of the couch. your eyes grow wide, your throat drying up as he utters his next sentence. “oh, i see. you’re just playing hard to get aren’t you? you wanted me to be jealous, didn’t you?”

könig straightens up, laughing a bit before his eyes narrow. “if you go out with that man tomorrow, who knows what will happen, kleiner hase*. you don’t want to find out… do you? it will be on your hands after all.”

könig’s hand shoots out and snatches your wrist, your mind reeling. wasn’t there coding that prevented this? surely he couldn’t have altered his coding… right? you have to send him back. you need to get him fixed and maybe you’ll even keep him gone altogether. this isn’t-

“schätzen*, you chose me. that means you love me, right?” the cyborg’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. your eyes instinctively meet his, realizing that what once glowed with the company’s symbol was now not glowing at all, and in fact looked as if the symbol had never been there in the first place. how was this even possible…?

a shiver ran down your spine as könig’s eyes squint behind his mask— seemingly smiling. you hadn’t been aware of his intimidating presence before, even when he protected you from creeps on your grocery runs. but now that you were on the receiving end, you couldn’t help but regret ever letting your friend talk you into this.

notes:

*kleiner hase — little bunny

*schätzen — treasure

[ssweetleaf]

it’s a scream, baby!

♡ pairing- ghostface!steve x afab!reader x ghostface!eddie

♡ summary- hawkins had some serial killers on the loose, who would’a known that you’d be their victim.

♡ includes- SMUT, non-con, dark!steve, dark!eddie, knife play, blood play??, degradation/praise, cunnilingus, not a lot of plot, goes 0-100 on the smut real quick, i’m sorry, them being passive aggressive assholes, basically steddie use you right before they decide to kill you.

♡ a/n- if any of these warnings makes you uncomfortable, please do not read. let me know if you’d like a little part two with like penetration and stuff !

♡ ps, i swear to god, i’ll stop writing fics about pussy eating cuz i know i do it way too much. ITS A WEAKNESS, I’M SORRY!!!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The room was a mess, the cushions that once sat perfect and pristine upon the couch had been torn— a flurry of springs and crumbly foam fluttered across the room and the few lamps that stood pride and place in every corner had toppled over, the pretty stained-glass shades smashed to teeny little pieces and stuck to the fibres of the carpet beneath you, jagged and shiny, digging into your palms from the constant clawing you inflicted to the floor. The glass drew blood, slicing through your fingertips and pooling into the crevices of your palms, though it was nothing compared to the wound that throbbed and spluttered in the top of your right thigh.

He had stabbed you— he’d do anything to get you to stay, at least that’s what he’d told you while he drove his jagged knife into the muscle of your thigh, moving it around while still deep inside just for good measure before he quickly pulled it back out again. The blood— oh god, the blood!

“There ya go— can’t leave us now, can you, hm?”

Eddie munson— that was who it was, straddling you and pinning you down with all of his body weight, a sadistic smile inching his lips upwards, bumping his cheeks and crinkling the corners of his black, swarming eyes.

He was a heavy suspect in the countless murders that scattered its way around Hawkins High, various teens going missing just to be found dead the very next day— but it didn’t even cross your mind someone like him, someone you thought was so harmless and misunderstood could do something so insidious and—

“What I tell you about keeping her all to yourself, Munson?”

Oh, what a shame— Stevie, your Stevie, paced the room with that stupid fucking mask hanging loosely from his wrist by the black elastic. You had only been dating for a few months, insisting on going slow, too nervous to go all the way with pretty boy King Steve, and he had told you it was fine, cooing soft and sweet into your ears and pressing innocent little kisses to your cheeks— you hadn’t a clue what was going on, what he was doing when he wasn’t with you and in the confines of your plush and pink bedroom.

God, you couldn’t stop the flurry of tears that brimmed along your lash line, fat tears running down your cheeks in haphazard blackened streaks, your mascara thick and clumped upon your wet lashes, nose all stuffy and blocked and globs of spit trickled down your throat with each time you tried to swallow the massive lump that just wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, honey, there’s no need to be upset, we’re here to take care of you.” Steve cooed, his lips were quirked just like Eddie’s, maniacal and so eerie, while he crouched down next to your struggling figure.

“Look so pretty when you cry, sweetheart, don’t listen to him-” Eddie’s voice was muffled against your neck, nosing against your pulse point and licking his tongue up the length of your neck in a fat stripe. “but you gotta stop movin’ or I’ll cut that pretty face of yours.”

Your throat constricted on its own accord, a cowering whimper fleeing your lips the moment he had started to speak, and another one soon after at the mention of using that knife again.

“Poor girl’s gone all shy-” Stevie cooed, mocking you with a pout on his lips and grazing a bloody knuckle against your puffy cheek— the tears were still ever spilling and you couldn’t bare to look him in the eyes, but he caught your face between his callused hand, causing your cheeks to squish and your lips to jut. “Come on, baby, don’t you wanna play with us?”

You started to sob, shaking your head fervently, hoping that this was all just some sick joke and it’d all be fine once you told them it wasn’t funny. But even when you shook your head, and when multiple please no’s fell from your swollen lips, the tip of the knife that Eddie grasped in a tight fist trailed along your neck, the blade resting far too comfortably against your pulse point.

“No?” So passive aggressive, lips curled into a sneer almost, and his grip around your face got tighter. “Well that’s too bad, ain’t it, honey.”

—

Your clothes had been torn to shreds, sharp slits ruining the fabric and deeming them completely useless, though the cotton of your underwear was still intact, the white stained with their bloody prints and your chest hammered at the sight.

It was a mixture of heavy petting and sloppy kisses, both tongues shoved against your own, swiping against your teeth and lips sucking crudely on your tongue— it didn’t matter to them that you didn’t kiss back. They’d make you sooner or later.

You couldn’t help the surges of arousal that pooled inside your stomach, your thighs clenching with each squeeze and caress, becoming transfixed and inebriated— something close to a Stockholm syndrome that had your mind reeling and hazy, utterly dumb and eager. A complete shift to what was before.

Oh god.

“See,” Eddie started, palm pressed against your stomach while he paused to press his mouth upon your spread thighs, biting and sucking bruises, little teeth marks littering your searing skin and it had you whimpering. “I always had a thing for ya, sweetheart.”

That knife of his was still ever-present, pressed flat underneath the palm that held you still— one wrong move and it’d start to slice…

“Such a shame we gotta get rid of you once we’re done, baby.” He wasted no time in pulling at the crotch of your underwear and successfully splitting it in two— your cunt on display and completely bare, the two killers groaning at the sight, so wet and warm, practically dripping onto the carpet. “You understand though, don’t you?”

“Such a fuckin’ whore,” Steve piped up, hand now grasped around your wrists, pressing them above your head, “hiding all this from me all along, huh, pretty girl.”

And it seemed so quick, Eddie’s mouth was on you in an instant, sloppy and uncoordinated, tongue trailing a long, swift line up your centre, finishing with a mean flick to your clit.

You struggled and wriggled in his grasp, causing the tip of the blade to pierce the skin of your stomach— only slightly, and you could barely notice the pain from Eddie’s ministrations— if anything it made your arousal surge further and you clenched around his prodding tongue.

“Thought she was a good girl, Stevie-” his voice was mumbled, muffled greatly by your pussy in his face and Steve rolled his eyes, a sneer lifting at his puffy lips.

“She is a good girl— aren’t you, honey?” One of his palms cracked upon your cheek in a sharp slap, heat blooming quickly, surging all the way down to your cunt, and of course Eddie knew with the way he fucked you with his tongue. “Just need to get it in that thick skull of yours that you ain’t gettin’ away.”

Your thighs shook, toes curling and your hands tried to hold onto something even while they were shoved above your head. It was a constant of tongue and spit, clit all engorged between his bitten lips and he was eating you like a champ— all that along with one of pretty boy Steve’s palms on your tits, kneading at the flesh and pinching your nipples— and you were getting so close, gonna— gonna cum,,

“Shit, Steve, wish you could feel her now,” he was mumbling and his lips were smacking, so obscene in the stuffy air, “fuckin’ clenching so tight—”

Your hips attempted to buck, his tongue fucking into your hole, slurping up the arousal that pooled there like a starved man and you stared up at Steve, big eyes blinking up at him, all shiny and sweet, glimmering with tears and he couldn’t help the way his cock throbbed when they began to slip down your puffy cheeks.

“Oh,” he cooed, mocking you still and leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your own, “are you gonna cum?”

Eddie hummed against you, pushing his face even deeper into your pussy, your slick dripping down his chin and you could hear him swallow you down in big, crude gulps.

You shook your head, a haze clouding your irises, your mouth agape and drooling, eyebrows furrowed into a state similar to bliss— it didn’t matter that there was a blade against your tummy and it didn’t matter about the stab wound that you had acquired, it was ridiculous, making you dizzy, all the blood loss, just heightening the perfect jolts to your clit.

“You don’t have to pretend, baby. We know you gotta cum, sweet thing.”

Shit—the way he spoke to you, all condescending and fake, but as sweet as honey, it was so confusing, and if you weren’t so inebriated from their attention, you would’ve been ashamed to say you were on the brink of exploding.

“Ask Eddie nicely,” he cooed, “need permission to cum, don’t ya, sweets?”

Your face was on fire, but you couldn’t help it, you needed to cum so badly— so desperate for it, so you blew out a breath and began to plead.

“P-please can I cum, Eddie—” you whined and crooned, fingers flexing up above you, wanting nothing more than to thread them through his tangled hair and tug him closer into your cunt.

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he was teasing you, as if he was actually thinking about it, the bastard. “You gotta promise me you’ll be a good girl until I’m- we’re done with you.”

“Promise!” You nodded profusely, whining up at Steve too, “pretty please can I cum?”

Eddie took a glance up at Steve, awaiting the short nod he gave the metal head.

“Let her cum, Eds.” That smile was back again. The maniacal one. It did things to you, made your stomach flip and you bucked up into Eddie’s working mouth, your gaze flipping between them both.

“Can you believe it, honey? Gonna cum for Hawkins’ big bad serial killers, ain’t that somethin?” You squeezed your eyes shut, stars erupted from beneath your closed lids, sparkly and in a haze and your muscles convulsed, the fat of your thighs squished firm against either side of Eddie’s head. If you thought hard enough you probably could’ve used it as an advantage, could’ve squeezed his head so fucking hard his head popped off, but you were in too deep, nothing could stop them, not when they had you all nice and dumb and fucked out.

“Better make the most of it sweetheart, ‘cause you won’t be around to enjoy it much longer.”

Eddie continued to lap at your pussy, watching intently while you clenched around nothing, and occasionally slipping his tongue inside your fluttering hole just to sate it.

“No more,” you were whining, gasping into the stuffy air, desperate to try and lift your hips away, already overstimulated by the short nudges of his nose against your puffy clit. “Please— I can’t!”

“Oh, come on baby, don’t you wanna get fucked?” Eddie smirked from below, his pretty hair cascading over his shoulders once he smoothed it out of his face. “I know Stevie’s real excited to slip inside this pretty little virgin cunt of yours.”

The fucker had the audacity to laugh, giggling into the skin of your thighs and trying to gnaw at the chubby flesh to stifle himself.

“It’s not funny,” you were pathetic really, speech all slurred and whiny as ever, chest heaving and clit still throbbing even after all his attention.

“You’re right baby, I’m sorry, it’s not funny.” He spoke, all while laughing still, thumb and forefinger reaching up to squeeze at your cheek. Mocking you. “Have I upset you, princess? You mad at me?”

“Come on Eddie, we haven’t got all night. Pretty girl’s already getting woozy, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

He was right, you were getting woozy. Your eyelids were already starting to get all droopy and heavy, lashes fluttering and fat tears still slipped down your cheeks.

Eddie finally emerged from his little perch between your thighs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and leaning to press a wet kiss to your cheek.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart, not even struggling.” Your face flushed, “you ready, honey?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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