#but I’m gonna be extra quiet tonight & tomorrow I have work so I won’t

[maxmoffs]

♥️,

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 28, 1995 Well, the kids hit the front yard late today, but that was cool cuz I knew they wouldn’t be out for hours cuz they came out at 5:30. They were only out a half hour to 45 minutes. Not surprisingly, it was after Tom came home and we were sitting in the living room together. God, are You sure you aren’t trying to tell us something?

We had pretty good sex earlier. Naturally, he didn’t cum. He conked out as I was getting really close, so he finished me off orally.

No call from Goldie and Al, so I guess they got hung up and will try tonight.

I can’t sleep just yet so I’m gonna go either read or do word puzzles.

I feel as if I’m forgetting to mention something of importance. Can’t think of it now, though, so I’ll be back later.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 1995 Well, it’s now 19º in Springfield! I called and told Andy who was cracking up with me.

I got two letters from Bob today and I began letters to him, Kim, and my parents. Bob says there’s snow there. Tammy says it’s cold, but there’s no snow. She also said something about Bill’s car getting rammed while she was in the doctor’s office. She said she presented her evidence in court, swears it’s not his fault, but the judge threw it out. Her insurance company denied the claim.

Tonight, Goldie will be calling. In about an hour.

I exercised yesterday, so I’ll be typing and maybe watching TV.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1995 All is still pretty quiet, but it’s that time when they’ll be on their way out till sundown. I have the music on now.

A few minutes ago I finished working out.

The pool temperature is on its way up to 70º.

Andy mentioned possibly needing to borrow $200 from us for his teeth. Now’s lousy timing to ask us, cuz we won’t have any extra money until a week or two from now. He also mentioned possibly needing a co-signer for his dental plan. They won’t let an out-of-state person sign, but at least his mom did say she’ll pay for anything he needs that he can’t take care of on his own. I left Tom a message and asked him to let me know what he thought. He said I was right, there’s no extra money right now, but we’d lend it to him if we could. Also, he didn’t mind co-signing, but his credit may not allow him to.

Andy and I talked today. He said he understood perfectly well and was able to get overtime as well as accumulate enough money from some change he rolled.

Later…

Now I’ve got some shocking news about Tammy and some unfortunate news about Goldie and Al. Goldie called saying Al and his sister had so much to deal with in the way of lawyers and banks that they wouldn’t be able to see us this time around. She’s gonna call tomorrow evening at 6:00 to say goodbye to both of us, as they’re leaving for Massachusetts on the 1st. In the meantime, we updated each other on our lives and she said she was thrilled for me to have a guy like Tom and she adored us both.

I also got the story straight. I had thought it sounded like she said they had their car flown from Vegas to Sun City. Well, what they really did was have their car shipped on a truck.

She said Ma said something about coming out here this summer. That’s news to me. I thought Dad said the end of this year or the beginning of next. They always mention all kinds of dates, but who really knows when they’ll be coming?

Ma’s looking for a place for them in Florida for next winter. They don’t know when and if they’ll be returning to Vegas. Maybe in a couple of years. They want to be near their sons and their families who are in Boston.

As far as Tammy’s concerned, Bill’s going into the hospital next Saturday for two months.

Guess who came to visit her? Larry and the kids. Sandy didn’t go, though. I’m really amazed. I really didn’t think he’d ever get there. She agrees with me that Larry’s always been a good worker and good with the kids, but there were hardly any words spoken between the two unless she asked him a question. She mainly talked to little Larry. Lisa and Jenny were inseparable and they’re calling each other tonight. Becky and Larry were playing and teasing each other.

Later…

I just tried to call Larry, but there was no answer. I called Dad instead. They’re doing OK. Mom was out playing bingo.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1995 Already I’ve done quite a bit today. I did laundry and I’m doing more now. I made our beds, did some typing, and made Tom an ice cream parfait with vanilla ice cream and whip cream. I also made mashed potatoes and later I’m gonna make us pork chops and tater tots. Tom’s making chocolate chip cookies now with a recipe he got from his mom.

I wish I had more to say, but I just don’t right now. Only that today’s a great day. Been productive and in a good mood.

Goldie and Al will be calling anytime now, I guess.

This has been a very peaceful and quiet Saturday. That’s fine with me, though. They’re out front, no doubt, but I’ve got the music on anyway.

Well, I believe I’ll go do some typing on 59 now.

Later…

Today’s been a great and productive day, but Tom’s gone to bed. He has to get up early. I’m giving my feet and back a break right now.

Our disrespectful neighbors who may as well own this block have company. They don’t ever go anywhere, so someone’s come to them. I heard them out back barbecuing and I thought I heard a ball game start up, but it stopped, thankfully. All’s usually peaceful till late afternoon, but I’ll have to deal with them till June, unfortunately.

They’ve been there long enough for me to observe something else. That guy over there works 6 days a week from 6 - 7 AM till 7 - 9 PM. Guess that’s the price you pay when you have so many kids to support.

All the other houses are so quiet with older people, so why God? What are You really trying to tell me? Is it just like with the “men” signs? Are you trying to say You want me to get pregnant, but have no control over when I do, if I can? Or is it that You want to taunt me with what I can’t have? Well, believe me, I’ll take one of my own over a million of someone else’s any day. True, I may be sorry I ever had a kid if I did and wish I could have this life back, but oh well. I still believe that You God, are the planner. I believe I can keep myself from getting pregnant, but I can’t make myself pregnant. That is up to You.

If and when Tom starts cumming, and after several months of that, then my questions will be answered, won’t they? As far as what is or isn’t meant to be, I mean.

Come on Goldie and Al! Call me. I’m anxious to know when we’re getting together. I hope we leave shortly after Tom’s home so we can bail out of the bulk of tomorrow’s street party. At this time of year, they’re mostly out front from late afternoon till sundown, but I have a feeling they’re on their way out back. That’ll make tanning, smoking, and hanging out there a real pleasure. Yes, I’ve thought of talking to them, but what good will that do? They can’t keep them inside 24/7 and I’m sure they really don’t give a shit. People with kids think they own the world. They think that their rights come first and that their rights are all that matter.

Later…

Yeah! All’s quiet and peaceful now and the company just left. That wasn’t too too bad. Only 3-4 hours of their shit. It sure beats the 24/7 activity of the NHA. The most important thing of all is the fact that I can sleep and that our houses aren’t attached to one another. Now I can be myself, though, and not feel controlled. Just cuz I love music doesn’t mean I always want to hear it just to drown noisy neighbors out. To me, music is for listening or singing to, not for drowning out other people’s noise or sleeping. Thank God I haven’t had to sleep with it in over a year or have heavy metal concerts forced on me. I still hope that someday real soon they get sick of being cramped in a 3-bedroom house, find a way to make more money, and split. Then we need a nice old couple or person to move in who hates company.

Nah - if they move, God will have someone or something else get on my nerves.

Later…

I have a slight headache now from wearing my hair high up on my head in a braid all day. I took an Ibuprofen which will be taking care of it soon.

I just left Andy a message. I hope his teeth aren’t killing him.

I typed a letter to Larry today and worked on 59 a little.

Can you believe that it’s barely after 8:00 at night and I’m already beat? Can you also believe how much more of a day person I’ve been? Lastly, can you believe how much less my schedule flips around and how much quicker it flips around when it does? Maybe God really is helping to prepare me for something. All I can see right now is the business and the singing being prepared for, but who the hell knows? If I fall asleep soon, though, it’ll be hard to stay up late tomorrow to see Goldie and Al if we are seeing them tomorrow. Whenever we do, though, we probably won’t get home till after 10 PM.

Tom and I exchanged interesting opinions. He feels that things aren’t going to stay the same. Things will be changing that are more than little things. I, on the other hand, believe things will slow down and fall into the same pattern for a while cuz I just had so many changes in the last couple of years. We’ll see who’s right. If the changes are good ones that I can handle, then I hope he wins this one. I don’t mind being proven wrong if it’s for the better.

I just listened to music, so what shall I do now? Should I type more story drafts? Type more of 59? Watch TV? Edit? I’ll think about it as I come to an end in this journal and go begin my next one. I think I’ll do some word search puzzles after I get my next journal started. Yeah, why not?

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1995 Right now I am in a foul mood. I’m stressed out, I’m worried and I’m confused. Not only have I got the stress of surgery over my head, but the date of my surgery is when I’m due for my period. It’s still hard to keep that neutral attitude. I still have scary visions of myself at age 40-50 saying, “I knew I couldn’t get pregnant, so why didn’t I have that operation to get my insides removed?”

I feel I’ve done a lousy job taking care of Tom who’s sick with a cold.

I’m stressing out over next door. I know that for 3-6 hours they’re gonna be raising hell.

I also feel like a lot of the time Tom gives off mixed emotions about having a kid, too. When we were discussing my period being due on surgery day, I realized he was talking about it as if he knew. He knew I’d be getting my period. He knew he wouldn’t be cumming. If he doesn’t by June, then I’ve got to do something. I can’t keep saying I’ll give it a few months, then a few more, then a few more. Why don’t I set a tentative plan for myself? If nothing’s changed by this time next year I’ll at least go get info and set up a consultation for a hysterectomy.

Later…

Well, my foul mood is all gone and I feel a lot better. I’m back to taking things one step at a time.

I did the dishes and worked out a little. Last night I did every single exercise on one of my tapes, amazingly enough. Already I feel the firmer, slimmer difference. The question is, will it last? Even if I keep up with it?

It’s very windy out and it looks like a storm could be rolling in. I have mixed emotions about storms. They’re kind of neat out here and they keep the kids away, but they don’t help my asthma and allergies.

We got our state tax return today of $117.

No letters today for me. I sent Bob 3 self-addressed stamped envelopes. He better use them.

Speaking of address labels, though, I just used the very last cactus label. I’m not using any others now, so I’m back to highlighting entry dates. In the next book, I may use one of the ones with both our names on it. We’ll see.

I just asked Tom if he’d mind my using the splash labels as entry dates since we’ve got a million other labels. He said to go ahead. There are 90 of them. Anyway, I’m off to do some computer work.

Later…

The house smells really good now. I just aired the place out and it’s that time of year where you can smell the orange blossoms even though they don’t smell like oranges.

Tom just went to bed. He still feels pretty yucky, but he’ll hopefully be better tomorrow. He said I did an excellent job taking care of him. Well, I made him his lunch and dinner, but I’ve really never cared for a sick person before, so I hope to do an even better job tomorrow.

Andy’s having problems with his teeth and I hope he’s feeling better. He mentioned moving in with this girl Cindy who has a house, to share their expenses. This house is all paid for. I’ve spoken to her once and she seems nice. I hope they continue to get along and that it works out, even though there are no definite plans yet.

Tom even felt well enough at one point to go to the library and the hardware store. I went, too. I never could get into the last two library books I returned today, but I got one, unexpectedly, and I really like it.

At the hardware store, he got stuff to work on the cigarette machine with, electrical tape, and stuff to shock the pool with.

I didn’t hear any kids out today cuz I had the music on. It was a nice day, though, so I’m sure they were out.

Later…

I just heard something fall and went to check it out, but all seems to be in place. It must’ve come from Tom’s room. He went into his room for the night at 7:00.

I asked Andy if he still believes in praying. He said yes cuz he asked God for temporary relief till he got more money to take care of it. He said he also wouldn’t give up on God just cuz he couldn’t always get his way. Will I ever pray again? I don’t know. I still believe that things are either meant to be or not meant to be, whether or not you pray. I also feel that I’m still making an impossible request (the baby).

I guess Goldie and Al will be calling tomorrow at some point. I told Tom that if he’s still sick on the 26th or 27th we’ll cancel. He says he’ll be fine and there’ll be no problem going.

Later…

Glad I just did a #2. I was worried I was in for another few days of constipation. That usually happens to me a couple of times a month.

Next Friday I’ll be picking up a journal for book 4 of my story, cuz I don’t want to use any of these dazzling books for it. The one I’m using now (#89) is going faster than I had anticipated. Even though it’s got the most number of pages than any others (something like 192), it’s the smallest. Even smaller than 41. I’m using normal-size writing, too. My writing in my paper journal is only slightly smaller cuz there are lines and they’re pretty close together. I believe this is the longest-running journal I’ve had in a while and it’s jammed-packed with no charts or anything else other than “life.”

I had gotten a very abrupt, quick feeling about either getting pregnant or finding out I was in ‘96. Do I still have this feeling? Logically speaking – no, I don’t, but we’ll see as I get closer to it. The stronger my feelings are, the more accurate they are. For a short time at the end of last year, I had a feeling I’d have a kid in November of this year. Shortly after New Year, I had a very, very strong feeling that said - oh no I won’t. Obviously, I was very right on that one.

As far as Tom ever cumming? I really don’t know what to make of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never ever did. Also, despite how honest he’s been about everything else and despite what he’s told me about this, who knows what’s really going through his mind? He says the block isn’t about anything to do with the kid. He says it’s about the pressure of cumming. He says as he gets close (and I know he gets close) he tells himself to concentrate on cumming to make me happy and that’s why he can’t. I understand all about blocks as well as pressure, but I’d think that with him as attracted to me as he says he is to me on both the inside and out that that’d make it hard to keep from cumming. I still have a faint feeling of him cumming in either April or June, so we’ll see.

Later…

In the library, there was a book on Linda Ronstadt. I doubt I would have liked the pictures in it when I was younger. They were pretty lousy. The younger ones of her were with her hair short, or they were very dark. They were in black and white and the clothes she wore were gross. There were also a few of her older and fat.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1995 I am at the doctor’s office now and not too thrilled about it. I’ll write more later after I get this shit over with.

Later…

Andy probably has no faith in God right now. His teeth are in massive pain right now, so he’s on his way to the dentist. Earlier he had left a message wishing me luck today. He said when he gets back he’ll let me know all about it and wants to know about my ear which is good news. Dr. Joganic’s gonna hack it off! I’m beat now, so I’ll get into it later.

Later…

The kids just hit the front for the next 2-3 hours, so I turned on the tunes to write.

Jackie, the one who schedules surgery just called. I still have to see Dr. Nielsen on 3/2, but it’s no longer a pre-op appointment. It’s just a regular one. My pre-op has been upped to 3/20 at noon. Then on 3/21, I’ll have surgery at 10:30, but I’ll have to be there at 9 AM. The operation should take two hours and both doctors will be operating on me. On 4/4 at 1:30 I’ll be at my follow-up appointment.

Later…

I just ran outside for half a smoke. It’s quiet back there. The backyards are all 3/4 shaded now, so that’s why the kids have run out to the front till it gets hot in or out of the shade. I wish the sun set at the back of the houses on this side, though, cuz it’d keep the pool warmer for longer.

I’m gonna go write up the grocery list for tomorrow.

Tom’s been in his room sick with a cold, so I’m gonna leave him a note with all my surgery dates on it. I mean, surgery and appointment dates.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 1995 Due to the storm, I woke up pretty wheezy. Luckily, I got it under control pretty fast and was nowhere near the ER.

I began the third book of my story.

Dr. Joganic’s office called to verify tomorrow’s appointment. Tom and I have to finish the paperwork they sent us.

Things are just beginning to dry up outside.

Next door has their doors or windows open as always and I could hear a few sentences occasionally. I think I heard a parrot squawking over there, too. Also, I know their dog’s name is Muffins cuz I heard one of the kids calling him about a week ago.

These people definitely have money in order to pay for and support 5 kids and 2 animals. Not enough money, though, to live in a house where they’re not so tightly cramped and packed in. I don’t know how the hell 7 people fit into a 3-bedroom house, and I just know she’s pregnant now with number 6.

I finished typing Journal 58 and am working on 59 now.

I left Kim a message too, since I haven’t talked to her in a long time.

Last night I really got to thinking about Paula B. Does she ever think of me? Did she ever wonder about trying anything with me? How’s her life now? I hope she’s doing well and is happy. The same goes for Jessie and Cassandra. I wonder why I’ve never heard from Cassandra. Did she lose my number? Or did she decide she didn’t want to have a friend so far away? Did she ever decide she couldn’t deal with only being just my friend no matter where I lived? Should I ever try to contact any of these people? Or should I just leave them in the past?

Later…

Well, here’s what I just did. Jessie’s still living in the area and I doubt if I have her current number. I could make contact with her through her mom in Longmeadow, but she and Cassandra are closed, but great memories of my life.

There’s no Paula B listed and I’m not at all surprised. She probably can’t afford a phone or has a huge bill and there are no B’s in Longmeadow where I think she might’ve lived at one point. I know she had a brother Paul and a sister Brandy, but there were none listed. The operator gave me the number of an Ed B. The wife answered saying there was no relation to Paula, so I don’t know what else to do. I’m not gonna ask the operator for every B listed and she said there were several.

She moved to West Springfield after I moved to S. Deerfield which was when I last spoke to her. Where she is now, who knows? She had a second kid when we last talked, too. Another boy. I don’t remember her ever talking about moving out of state, but she may have also had family in Enfield, CT, too.

I could be very wrong, and I hope I am, but I can’t picture Jessie or Paula’s lives being any different than they were when I last knew them.

I also wonder how Steve and Jai are? I wouldn’t be surprised if Jai left Springfield long ago and is in New York City. Jessie mentioned that Steve lived in Chicopee and was to move to California when I was in Norwich, so who knows?

I never wonder what’s going on with Kacey and Brenda. Kacey’s probably still at Monsanto, either in long-term relationships or dumping people after just a week or two. Brenda’s still probably on psych pills and crack. Probably still quiet, troubled, and hanging with losers.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1995 I was gonna say, so much for that bulb I planted out back, but Tom said it’s not the time for it to come up yet. The front and backyard need lots of work. The weeds are back in full force.

Not a peep out of next door. Great.

Later…

Right now there’s a serious thunder/lightning and rainstorm going on.

When the doctor did the skin graft on my arm, he did it in the shape of a square. I wonder if he can do it in the shape of a heart. It’d be cooler to have a red heart for a while, rather than a red square.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1995 Aaarrrggghhh! I’m getting so big! My clothes are getting tighter. I really believe that little by little my thin days are ending whether I exercise or not. It’s ironic how Andy said I looked more solid when he was here. Well, it may be expensive, as I’ll have to be buying bigger clothes, but being chunky won’t kill me. If I was getting into the 130s, then I’d see if I could do something about it. For now, I’ll just look more like the typical wife does.

I just did a major project that was fun and well worth it. I only wish I’d done it a long time ago. Between both Linda and Gloria, I had tons of sheet music of their songs that was torn out of the books. They were all out of order and some songs have pages missing. This is cuz there were pictures on certain pages that I once had. I put them in the best order that I could, punched holes in them and put them in a big black binder. This way, we can set it up on the music stand. I’d be totally lost without that music stand. That’s what I use to type up my journals. Just think how hard it’d be for me to keep the pages open without it. I put address labels on the songs I like to sing that are in my range and style.

It’s a hot day of 86º today. I didn’t lie out for too long today so as not to receive a dose of sun poisoning. It’s very windy out today.

Later…

I just made spag and typed up letters to Kim and Bob. I wonder if I’ll ever hear from Minnie again now that she’s got a kid.

Speaking of kids, and the last two days before today, well, things weren’t too cool for a while there. I feel a hell of a lot better now, but here’s what Tom and I talked about.

While PMS alters your thinking and feelings, I admitted to him that I’ve always had a problem with conquering my fears and going for the stuff I want, figuring I probably won’t get it. Sometimes I even punish myself and I told him that I feel really bad that I punished him while punishing myself and that I was determined to stop doing that and follow my heart, dreams, and desires.

It’s hard to wipe out of my head the shit Tammy and others have said to me about all they go through as mothers. I need to do what I want, regardless of who says what, and have a mind of my own. I have to stop being afraid to succeed and afraid to go for things I want cuz of my own fears and doubt and the ones others have planted in my head. I need to be more hopeful and positive. Yes, there have been things I said I’d never get, like the kind of relationship I have with Tom with a woman and I was right. But I’ve also been wrong on things I said I’d never get that I did get.

I told Tom the “light is green” no matter what I say, no matter how much I may PMS, and no matter how much I may be feeling negative at times like we all do here and there. I want a baby and he does too. We can’t guarantee that and we can’t put a date on it, but we’re gonna go for it as soon as we can possibly get pregnant.

Every day I’m gonna work on my attitude and again, I understand this could take a while. Just like it did with losing weight. And other things. I don’t think it’ll take too long, though, cuz an attitude change is quite different than losing lots of weight.

I conquered my fear of relationships and other things, so I know I can do this. Especially with Tom’s never-ending patience, understanding, faith, and encouragement. Our talk yesterday was great cuz he remained calm and positive. Didn’t get frustrated with me or throw anything in my face that he asked to hear.

I prayed to God for the third time a couple of nights ago. I not only asked him to help me get pregnant, but to be able to deal with not having a kid if it’s gonna be a while yet or if I never can. So far it seems more than a coincidence that I’m more relaxed, peaceful, and hopeful about it, yet patient and understanding that it takes a long time for some people.

What else has got me in a fine mood? Well, yesterday I sang and played the guitar and keyboard. The keyboard, though, was quite rusty. I had to stop and hear the songs in my head that I’d forgotten. Little by little I’ll remember stuff and be like my old self. Still, I’m way more of a guitar player and even much much more of a singer. Later that day Tom and I played both instruments and harmonized together. Our voices harmonize really well together. He plays the keyboard better than the guitar and that’s good so we can balance each other out in a way we couldn’t if we both either played the guitar or the keyboard better. My fingertips are doing better. Today they feel like they have a low-grade fever, rather than like they were just placed on the stove.

What luck I had earlier. I just hit the hotkeys to save a whole page’s worth of stuff I typed when we had a one-second power failure. Gotta reset the clocks soon.

I just realized that I have yet to mention Andy’s visit. He came over at 5 AM on the 16th. He didn’t stay too long cuz he had to get home to bed, but he really liked what I gave him for his birthday. Thank God, cuz I was worried and not sure if he would or not. He was shocked at the 63-page journal I did up for him. I said I figured he’d save it, mail it to people, or give it back to me to send to Bob bit by bit. He said it was so adorable, though, that he may keep it forever.

He also liked the crayon can and was shocked at how many NPN envelopes I had for him. There were about 45-50 of them. He opened one here and dumped all of them in a mailbox on his way home. I also gave him 30 NPN cards I wrote out to Nervous for magazines, pamphlets, and all kinds of catalogs and info.

He didn’t bring me my stuff cuz he came from a friend’s house and didn’t know if he was gonna come over or not. But he looked up the name of Gloria’s daughter for me. Her name is Emily Marie. How boring!

I also gave Andy the tape with the Lindsay Wagner movie and the soap awards I taped on it too, for him. Also, the magazine with the Phase-Out ad.

We called for and received info on getting a business license for a small home business. We need about 3 different licenses that’ll cost between $75 - $100 bucks. We’ll probably use the money from the severance package he’ll be getting at the end of March.

We also got two new ribbons and a bail of pine sawdust to mix in with the cedar sawdust the other day. From now on, though, we’re ordering ribbons by mail. It’s cheaper that way.

Got a letter from Kim the other day, and Alex and I still continue to chat over Prodigy. Still no recipes from Tammy and I’m not counting on that. Still nothing from Marla, either. Andy says they’re probably having trouble installing it and using it. Probably so.

Several days ago Tom and I had awesome sex. Never have we done so many positions in one “screwing session.” We did about 4 different ones that time.

Now for the most uncool news of all. It’s that time of year when the kids next door rule the front yard. This is better than the back, as it’s easier to drown them out with the stereo than it is with the boom box out back. They’re out from noon or 2:00 to sundown and I know they will be quite often till the intense heat comes in. In March or April, they’ll run to the backyard, but in June I should hardly ever hear them. It’s mostly on weekends and sometimes late in the afternoons, but I hope they’ll go to Idaho again in June.

The reasons it pisses me off are the same. I feel controlled and that their noise is being forced on me. Their noise should be for their parent’s ears only. Not others. I shouldn’t have to hear them or anyone else in my own house. It’s just like when that band was a constant problem across the street. I felt his music was forced on me in my own home where if I want to hear music it should be mine and mine only. I’m 99% sure they can’t hear my music next door, but if they can, I don’t feel sorry for them about it at all. Also, like I said before if I have to listen to a kid scream, I want it to be my own. However, I plan to do whatever I can to not let our kid get out of control like that.

It’s just a pity these people can’t wake up and realize that these houses are very close, and what they’re allowing their kids to do is rude and disrespectful to others. If we did have a kid, I’m sure there’d still be enough noise from ours that’ll blend in with theirs, cuz I understand that kids are kids, but for now, while there’s still no kid here, why should other’s noise be forced on me in here? The bulk of the time they’re quiet. It comes and goes in cycles and I know their patterns now. I can have months of peace, but then there are a few days a week for a few months when it goes on for hours. It really irks me. Especially when I’m sitting here trying to have a conversation with Tom and every few minutes a screaming fit breaks out. It’s hard to concentrate. With that shit in the background, I mean.

Do these people ever go anywhere other than to church for a few hours on Sundays? I realize that with so many kids there’s not a whole lot of money left over to go have fun with, but why can’t they go to a nearby park for a day? That wouldn’t cost anything.

I heard another story I heard a million times on TV yesterday. A woman was saying she wanted to leave her 4 kids cuz all they did was steal her life and make her fat. Again, my head says to listen to these stories and be grateful I probably can’t have a kid. My heart says I’m gonna do what I want to do anyway.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1995 It’s gonna hit 80º or so today and I beg God to death that it’s not a wild rowdy day out there today. I really hope I can enjoy it in peace. They’ve really been a hell of a lot quieter, though. Instead of being directly outside our windows, they’re more towards the house on the other side of their house. There are fewer screaming and no obnoxious ball games. I think I’ve figured out why they’re out front in certain parts of the year. Well, they don’t seem to come out till later in the afternoon, say from 3 PM - 6 PM. Well, the sun sets at the front of the house, so it’s usually warmer out front. Now that they’ve been quieter, I’m not at all looking forward to when they move to the back cuz then they are ear-piercingly loud for endless hours. They shouldn’t hit the back until sometime in April and I hope they go to Idaho again. The weird thing is, though, she said she hated the heat really bad. Then why did she and the kids only leave for the month of June and not July and August?

No music from across the street for ages! I love it! I think that kid did move out cuz I haven’t seen him. Plus, I’d surely know if he was there cuz every time he’d drive in and out I’d hear his car stereo loud and clear. Maybe he and his mother moved cuz I haven’t even seen her.

Today Tom’s working on the cigarette machine. I think I wrote about that, but I will anyway once it’s done.

We may also go out today to the pet store to pick up a bale of regular pine sawdust that I’ll mix in with the cedar chips.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1995 I can’t remember if Tom’s working today or not. His job ends March 10th and he’s saving his sick days and vacation days for my appointments and surgery. Our benefits go through until June.

Andy left a message shortly after 3 PM yesterday, but by then I was conking out. He was telling me he was on his way out and would call, but I haven’t heard from him or talked to him. I left him a message a couple of hours ago. He was on the phone then talking to someone cuz the phone only rang once.

He told me earlier how he got a huge book from his sister Linda in CA on All My Children. His favorite soap.

What was his advice the other day? Well, he believes in praying to God and says it’s worked for him before. He said praying to win the lottery isn’t something you’d pray for, but he’s prayed for toothaches and stuff like that to go away. He said no, not every prayer will come true, but I should pray to God about having a kid. He said to have a conversation with Him, tell Him why you want a baby, but don’t pick the time frame cuz only He knows when the time is right.

Does He? I guess I believe He does in most cases. Especially with stuff pertaining to me and my life, but how can He allow countless teens to get pregnant and feel the time for them was right?

Anyway, I’ve done this twice so far in the way he recommended.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1995 Back to using address labels as date separators. Well, for now anyway. We’ve got so many labels right now that this is why I’m doing this. I have this set and the jewel-toned one with just my name on it. Tom’s got two with just his name on it, then we’ve got two sets with both our names on it. Next time we order new labels, from now on I’ll order them all with both our names.

Andy’s 33 today. I talked to him last night and told him I wasn’t sure if I should feel bad cuz I made him his presents (the booklet journal and crayon can), rather than buying them. He said don’t feel bad at all. Also, he couldn’t afford to buy me anything in Dec. for my birthday, but now he can and wanted to know what I wanted. I told him about the puzzles and the dog mugs at the art store.

I told him to call me today when he got up to see about coming over. I don’t know if I’ll be too tired or not. He’s always way later than he says he’ll be, so I may very well be tired. I’ve been up since midnight last night, but I can’t believe how much faster I can move my schedule around nowadays.

Today I finished typing 50 and it would’ve been done yesterday or sooner today if it didn’t crash on me. Luckily, I didn’t have too much to retype. I omitted a few trivial and non-important things so I wouldn’t have to spend too much time typing stuff I’d already typed.

I called Dr. Nielsen’s office today and she was fixing to call me today. Dr. Driscoll’s taking care of the referral for Dr. Joganic. Dr. Nielsen and Dr. Joganic talked and they are gonna operate together. That much is good news, so hopefully, I’ll need one more operation, not two. My pre-op appointment with Dr. Nielsen is 3/2 and I called and set up an appointment with Dr. Joganic for 2/23 for the consultation. She’s sending me paperwork to fill out to bring to the appointment.

Tom called and brought up a very good point and question. How come Dr. Joganic already agreed to do the operation without seeing me first? He said he thought we’d have choices and one of them would be no surgery on the outer ear. Maybe when they talked with each other, Dr. Joganic said that doing nothing about it wouldn’t be a choice and that he has to operate and do something about it. He also asked if Dr. Joganic’s appointment was my pre-op with him and why they didn’t give me a date for surgery.

Beats me. Guess we’ll find out on the 23rd about the outer ear choices and then on the 2nd, if not the 23rd, about the date of the surgery.

Tom and I had a discussion this morning about my feelings and doubts about getting some of the things I want. He told me that the best thing for me to do would be to try my best to remain in the middle. Meaning, don’t give up but don’t plan or count on things. It’s hard for me not to be more doubtful than hopeful and he understands that.

I guess I misunderstood him when he said to wait two months and I’d be pregnant. He meant if I try not to have it be such an intense obstacle in my mind, cuz that can make it harder. Yeah, he has a point and I see and know what he means about that. I wish I had his attitude, but a bigger part of me is saying to forget it as much as I can and to move on to other things in life, whatever they’ll be.

He said the reason he mentioned that two-month thing was cuz he really does believe that. Believe that no matter after which two months I don’t pressure myself with it I’ll be pregnant? Or in two months from now meaning April? I think he meant any two months like April or May or July and August. Whatever. I’ll still try to take his advice. He said it’s OK to talk about wanting it, just don’t say stuff like it’ll never happen, cuz that may make it harder. He also understands that saying it will happen doesn’t mean that’ll make it easier, either. I guess with me it’s a woman’s intuition. I can’t help but get bad feelings about sterility. I will try to think less and worry less about it, though.

I talked to Andy about it who reminded me never to say never. Don’t think there’s something out there that’s gonna say, “You’re being selfish for wanting this, and don’t think you’re gonna be blessed yet again, cuz you’ve been blessed enough.”

Yeah, perhaps I shouldn’t for I’ve been cursed more than I’ve been blessed in my life.

Some other time I’ll get into some advice Andy gave me which I followed last night. I also have another idea that I feel kind of silly about, but I’ll discuss it later.

Before I go, here’s a note on the flip side of my doubtfulness. This may also sound silly and off the wall, but sometimes I get a feeling about finding out I’m pregnant during journal 86.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1995 Yesterday I typed up Tom Valentine’s letter and boy did I get the sweetest surprise from him. On one piece of paper, in the center of it, is a big heart that says Happy Valentine’s Day. Around that, he typed: To the most beautiful, lovely, pretty, attractive, gorgeous, good looking, beauteous, ravishing, sexy, intelligent, bright, sharp, smart, clever, talented, gifted endowed wife in the world. I hope you will be my Valentine forever!

This was so wonderfully sweet. Especially the words, sexy, smart, talented and gifted.

Later…

I just left Andy a message who I still haven’t heard from and read him the Valentine’s letter from Tom. I also typed it into my parents and Tammy’s letters I just did.

Later…

Tom’s on his way out to work, so I thought I’d write a few lines.

I got a letter from Bob, and due to him writing his letters towards the center of the paper; I punched holes in it and put it in the binder.

Later…

I have so many thoughts and ideas going through my head right now. I know some could be right, some partially right, and some way off the wall. I’m just doing what I do best right now. Analyzing and figuring. Remember how I said that a part of me would think Tom didn’t want a kid and part of me would think he did? Well, I believe way way way more that he does. I can tell by what he’s told me and all the opinions and feelings about it that he’s expressed to me. Well, it has been my experience that things either take forever to happen, if they happen at all, or they all happen at once.

There are only two reasons why I didn’t get pregnant when we met as well as around the time of our wedding or my surgery. One is cuz under one of Murphy’s laws everything happens at once. The other is due to all the “kid” signs all around me and thrown in my face for so long just like guys were for so long. Remember how I said it was quite obvious many years ago that God wanted me with a guy and not a woman?

It’s not that I can’t go to Tom and ask him about his feelings and that he’s not honest with me, it’s just that I don’t want any mixed messages to confuse me more. We can all give off mixed messages even if the feelings are basically the same. Even I have. For example, yes, I do want a kid way more than I don’t, but right now I probably appear to not want one. Truthfully, I don’t on a day like today. What I mean by that is that there’s no way I could keep up with it today till Tom got home. I’ve been up since 9:00 last night. Tom said that if we had a kid, I wouldn’t be in a situation like that, but I don’t get that. I don’t think having a kid will make it any easier for me to always be the day person I’d need to be or get up day after day, night after night, every hour to change and feed it.

Well, I know that Tom mentioned that my being 30 and the year being 1996 appealed to him. He also said a long time ago that June was a good month to get pregnant. This morning I said that March would be a good time to have it to keep it away from the busy months of June and December and he said, “Yes” in a tone I know really well. A tone that said he very much agreed and that’s what he was planning on. When I calculated it, I realized that dropping a kid in the month of March after a normal 9-month term would mean getting pregnant in June.

I thought about it and realized we were supposed to be in business a long time ago and have so many other things done a long time ago that aren’t done yet, or we did get things done, but way later than we planned on. Not that either of us is lazy or deliberately putting stuff off, but still, that’s the usual case.

I told him this morning that I can’t deal with prospective dates anymore. To please not say stuff like, “If you just wait two months, you’ll be pregnant.”

You know how I said my “feeling” of having a kid in November went away? Well so did conceiving in April. The reason why his saying this got to me is cuz I know it’s not true and I don’t want to go get myself all psyched up for nothing. He’s said he thinks we’ll have a kid in the fall. Now it’s the beginning of 1996. He’s said he was gonna cum in the winter of ‘94, then the spring of ‘94, then the summer of ‘94, then the winter of ‘95 and he still says he will cum. I can’t deal with this shit. I know he’s not out to play head games with me, but I can’t deal with bullshit dates.

I need to keep realistic here and remind myself of the fact that I probably can’t get pregnant even if he came in there daily. And that if I can and do, it’ll no doubt drag on for years. Meaning I probably couldn’t get pregnant before 1½ years or more from now. I’m sure he’ll cum when he’s ready to make that kid, but he’s also dropped hints here and there as far as me being right about the much later timing.

One time we were discussing sleeping together. I said it’d be best to do so when we have a kid cuz then I’m gonna be woken up constantly and not sleeping much anyhow. He said he disagreed. I asked if the reason why was cuz it’s so far away and he said yes, that was partly it.

But a month or so ago he said he thought we were just casually screwing without planning dates till it was discovered that I was pregnant. I always said, “Well, Tom, that’s fine, but you’ve got to cum for that to be likely.”

I’ll discuss someone else’s opinion on that later.

This morning we made a deal. He said, “How about it if we do this, but this is only tentative. We can change our minds. Despite the surgery, we’ll take care of the dentist in April and the GYN in May. Cuz then if you aren’t pregnant, you’ll be making very serious plans to be.” Then he went on to say stuff as if I’d way more than likely not be and he knew it. He mentioned asking if all looked OK to get pregnant at this May appointment. At this point, it’s getting harder and harder to think about it in a positive, hopeful way. I’ve had my share of letdowns in my life. It’s not that I’m not used to them, aren’t prepared for them, or can’t deal with them, but I sure don’t want to. If I’m not pregnant by June, then I will definitely wonder about both of us. I just don’t want to be getting my hopes up and all psyched up for nothing. It’s just too damn tiring. I think it’d be best and easiest for me if I think and have the attitude that I’m not gonna have a kid and that if I do, it’ll be years from now.

Lastly, I’m still not 100% sure about what’s up with his not cumming. I’m 98% sure he’s waiting till we make the kid, but there’s that 2% chance that there’s something wrong and he won’t admit it out of embarrassment or whatever.

I finally decided I would call a nurse and ask some of these questions at a medical info line. She did say I should ask a GYN these questions also, and to me, her answers are her opinions that aren’t necessarily right. She’s not in Tom’s head or a guy any more than I am.

Here are the quick answers first:

No, the KY won’t prevent pregnancy but could hinder it somewhat. More so, it won’t be a problem.

She doesn’t know about DES, but has heard of it and has heard that it’s supposed to affect having babies.

Now, as I figured and was told before, my meds won’t affect getting pregnant.

A nurse I once talked to when Tom and I first met said the chances of conceiving without a guy cumming is 10% - 15%. This is also what we had thought. Tom said the reason why there are millions of sperms is cuz one isn’t likely to make it. Well, the nurse said that all it takes is one and that we’ve been beating the odds cuz guys leak (and yes, he does) and there are millions alone in there. In just the leakage from the pre-cum, I mean. This makes me more convinced I’m sterile if it’s that possible and this much easier than I thought.

She asked how I knew he didn’t cum. Cuz he always says he was “so close” and I never feel anything leaking out of me. She said maybe it depends on how soon after I get up. I asked if she noticed it leak out of her when she’s with someone. She said she didn’t know, doesn’t pay attention, but that a GYN could tell if it’s possible for a guy to cum without discharging anything.

There’s also stuff like when he said, “This feels so good that it makes me never want to cum,” a few months back. He also said that if it were all up to him, he’d move in slow motion which is nice some of the time but boring all of the time. I usually tell him to be more aggressive. Go faster and harder.

He constantly goes from hard to soft and always has an excuse. He’s tired, he’s got a cramp, a headache, a sinus ache, etc.

She asked how he relieves himself and she can’t understand him going that long without relieving himself. I assume he takes care of himself and he’s told me he has wet dreams. She then said she agreed with me that his not cumming is psychological. She also went on to say that he could have a deep-seated fear of having a baby that he won’t open up about due to his ego or being sensitive in certain ways. Men have more apprehensions about having a baby than women, he could be afraid to lose me, etc. Yeah, I’ve heard it all. It’s not a guy thing, kids are for the mothers, it’s too non-macho, silly, and the guy’s turned off cuz the woman’s fat and feels jealous and left out due to the affection being on the baby. Yes, Tom has displayed sensitivity, jealousy, and feeling left out, but all this other stuff doesn’t fit him. If anyone has more fears and doubts about it I think it’d be me. I’m the one that always said I was afraid of losing him due to being tired, bitchy, and fat. I was afraid we’d have no time and no lives together. I was afraid the kid would come in between us, worried about affording it, etc. He’s said he’s not nervous about having a kid; there are more rewards to it than bad, and all kinds of positive things about it. I have to believe what he says. I mean, can he really be that much of a liar?

At this point, I’m gonna try my best to look at it like it’s never gonna happen as I said I would. If I’m not pregnant by the time June rolls around, then I’ll wonder if that nurse was right. Then I’ll go from thinking he’s holding off for now to he really does not want a kid. If he cums and months go by and I’m not? Then I’ll believe the DES did get the best of me and God doesn’t want me to have one for two possible reasons. One, it’d kill me. Two, I’d be such a good mom that doesn’t “qualify” in this day and age.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1995 I can’t believe I typed up all of 43 in a day, but I did. I worked on it for about 8 hours. All my journals total 2 megabytes. I’ve got a total of 53 typed up and together they total 556 pages. I need a new binder soon. Real soon. In fact, I could use one now. Not counting this journal or ones with letters or that are already typed, I have 14 left. 76 will probably take forever.

No message from Marla yet, but I’ll check again later today.

I typed Tom up a sweet, romantic Valentine’s letter.

Yesterday I talked to Larry. Believe it or not, he had no new jokes for me.

He said it was cold with 14” of snow.

Jenny got her first bra, he said, and is changing overnight from a little girl to a young woman.

Sandy didn’t want Jenny to cut her hair, but Larry, like me, doesn’t believe in making kids have their hair a certain way or eat foods they don’t like. Mom and Tammy are the other way around. Anyway, Jenny cut her hair up to her waist, but Larry says he thinks she wants to cut it again.

He says he’s happy to be spending more time with his family, but missed the freedom of the open road. He says he loved Phoenix, the desert, and the sunsets. He still says, though, that if they ever do move, it’d probably be to FL. He doesn’t mind the humidity.

I told him I’d soon be having another operation, but didn’t have a date. March second is my pre-op appointment.

Haven’t heard from Andy since shortly before midnight on the 12th. I hope he hasn’t had any more 4 AM visitors knocking on his door.

Yesterday I also finished 88. The second book of my story. I can’t believe it. This is the longest story I’ve ever stuck to. Plus, those 42 pages it began with that are scattered throughout 82 & 83. I don’t know where, when, and how it’ll end, but I’m not really caring or thinking about it now.

I’ve only got 3 more pages to write in Andy’s birthday journal that’s got 63 pages altogether. God only knows when I’ll be seeing him to give him that, his crayon can, his Lindsay Wagner movie, and his magazine with the Phase-Out in it. He should be getting the birthday card I sent him in the mail today if he checks it. He doesn’t check his mailbox every day.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1995 I just hung up from talking to Andy and Marla. They just got Prodigy, so Marla and her husband Evan will soon be sending messages. Then I’ll reply.

Andy said that last night at 4 AM he had a bad feeling about being murdered and he also felt like something was telling him to wash his hands. He was very tired, though, and then there was a loud knock on the door. He said he was terrified, wouldn’t open the door, and whoever it was only knocked once. Then, after a few minutes, they gave up and left. He doesn’t know who it was or how many people. No one he knows would come over at that hour. Especially without calling first. He says he has no known enemies at this time. He said whoever it was probably would’ve killed him for sure and that the reason he had this feeling of something telling him to wash his hands was to make it easier for a coroner to do an autopsy.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1995 Not much has happened since I last wrote.

Tom’s almost got the cigarette machine done. He said, “Not only will you cut down with this, but you’ll quit, too. Someday we can show our kid how its mother quit.” I don’t think so, but that’s fine if he thinks that.

I finished typing 42. I’ve begun 43 which should be done in no time at all. Some of it has printed-out stuff glued in and there are also several pages with each journal’s starting/ending dates and entry dates. I won’t be typing this stuff up. Not the chart, I mean, cuz there’s no need or reason to bother.

I spoke with Andy last night and let him know what’s going on with my ear.

His friend Sarah who moved to CA had left his outgoing message. He wanted me to tape it and leave him a new outgoing message with my voice calling him Mark and I did.

I saw the Miss USA pageant last night. Texas won. MA was from Wilbraham, another stuck-up little bedroom town with money 20 minutes away from Longmeadow. Mary C was from there. The gay staff member from Valleyhead who was leading me on while she was with Annie L, another staff member. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were still together.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 1995 I swear I’ll never watch another talk show again. They’re too depressing and infuriating and I’ve had it with the fucking teenage “bad girls.” This admitted dope head said she won’t quit doping out just cuz she’s pregnant. Her mother, meanwhile, is sitting there saying there’s nothing for teenagers to do in the town they’re from. I can see a pregnant woman smoking cigarettes, but alcohol, pot, and other hard drugs - please!

When I was talking to Andy about how God seems to give all the wrong people kids, he said that those who believe the world is near its end say that’s supposed to happen. Yeah, I know. It’s quite obvious this is “supposed” to happen. Well, maybe I would be one of those wrong people to have a kid cuz I’d have certainly beat the shit out of a couple of kids today at Dr. Nielsen’s office had it been up to me. There was a woman with a 12-year-old boy who was well-behaved. However, these twin boys who were about 8 were the biggest animals I’d ever seen. Totally off the wall and out of control. All kids are naturally loud and wild animals, but I don’t blame the kids. The mother definitely needed some serious discipline-teaching lessons. I could tell that even Tom thought they were quite wild. Back when I was a kid most kids could never get away with acting like that. Fewer kids did act like that back then cuz they were better disciplined and I don’t necessarily mean by being beaten either.

Anyway, of all people I’ve known, Tom’s been the least into saying things he or we’ll do that either don’t happen or take forever. Still, the more I think about his having said, “If you just wait two months, you’ll be pregnant,” it makes me wonder. He says he isn’t trying to force patience into me and doesn’t believe in forcing anyone into anything. This isn’t the point, though. Even though I’ve known how he’d prefer me to have a kid at age 30, the year be 1996, possibly begin cumming around the month of May, and was always in control of cumming or not, it irks me. It really irks me. If I wasn’t sterile the guy would have to cum 1-2 times a day for many months before I could get pregnant. Hell, it may even take years. Also, I feel like this is one of those things that is just talk. Do you have any idea how many times he’s told me he’s gonna cum? Practically since we met. Every week and or month since we’ve been together he was supposed to cum. I know he’s not deliberately doing this to me, but I still feel led on. I feel I handled it OK in my mind cuz the second he said I’d be pregnant in two months, I told myself, no, I won’t. It’s like he’s making excuses to tide me over in between the times I get upset over the situation.

I’ve heard people say that God won’t give us any more than we can handle. Well, I don’t buy it cuz of those who’ve committed suicide. However, if there’s any grain of truth to that and I never have a kid, I can only come up with the same theories as to why. Maybe I truly couldn’t handle it, as I always feared despite how normal my fears are. Maybe he doesn’t want anything to come between Tom and I. We sure as hell don’t. Lastly, there’s always the fact that I ain’t no teenage bad girl. I’m not a druggie, violent, etc. Well, I’ve handled stuff before I never thought I could and have been made to eat my words before, so we’ll see. Time will tell. Maybe God’s saying, “Hey! You’re selfish to want and demand more than you’ve already got. You can’t have it all. You can’t have everything you want.”

I can’t believe I’ve kept my schedule steady for this long and have made it to all my appointments. There’s no way I could’ve and would’ve done that when I was back on my own. Guess what, though? Tomorrow I sure as hell am sleeping as late as this body wants to till it awakens on its own.

Later…

I just did some more story typing and more typing of 42. I also typed up letters earlier to my parents, Tammy, Bob and Kim.

Tom and I spoke to Dad earlier to fill him in on the latest ear scoop. Ma wasn’t there, but Dad will fill her in, of course.

Dad’s going up to Brimfield in May to help the E’s out with their flea market up there. I remember them and the flea market there. Mom and Dad have flea marketed there, so to speak, a few times. At least Tammy will be happy about that, cuz of course Dad we’ll visit her and everyone else. All the family and friends, I mean.

I know I wrote about this, but back in ‘89 or ‘90 when I still lived in Springfield on Woodside Terrace, Dad and I were at the E’s house for dinner. They lived right by the flea market. Boo and Max were there too, and Max wouldn’t shut the fuck up and let me have hardly any time with Dad. Then they drove me back home and Boo asked me about Mom. She wasn’t too pleased when I said I didn’t know too much since we hardly ever got along. She asked, I told her. This was the only time they ever got on my nerves, though.

Dad said Mrs. E flew out from Hartford the other day at only -2º. Dad also said they had a record low of 36º in Florida. In Bob’s letter, I got today, he mentioned the 10-15 inches of snow, as Alex did a few days ago through Prodigy. I certainly don’t miss that shit, even though it’s chilly as all hell out there right now. Our afternoons are gorgeous and warm, though.

It’s nice right now to not have to give a damn what time I fall asleep or wake up. Like I said before, though, I’m sure I’ll sleep the day away tomorrow.

I’ll probably work on my story tomorrow, read, write, and do whatever. I still haven’t finished my music puzzle, but there’s no hurry. It sure will be a challenge, though, as the remaining 50 pieces or so are all black.

My next appointment to see Dr. Nielsen is set for March 2nd at 4 PM. Glad it’s not the 26th or 27th of this month and I hope Dr. Joganic’s isn’t either. I haven’t got a date yet on when we’ll see him. Dr. Nielsen’s office will let me know. Joganic sure is a funny last name. It’s even cornier than mine.

Tom said he could have sworn he heard a woman at work say her GYN at the main Cigna building’s last name is O. Well, Jews seem to either be doctors, lawyers, or the black sheep of their families!

Did I mention that I accidentally taped about 10 -15 seconds over that Terry Jacks song? Well, I did and tried for hours on two different days to get them to play it. When I called the station, the DJ said he would, but that’s people for you.

Guess I’m gonna go have a smoke now, then maybe I’ll hit the sack.

Later…

Today I got up at 3 PM. I’m surprised I didn’t sleep till 5:00, but I feel great.

I’m doing laundry now and I’ve typed up more of 42.

Tom’s working on the computer for a while till we have fun. I think he’ll want to go down on me, but even though I just changed the sheets, I know I can count on him not to mess them up. That is if we screw, I mean. It’s not April, but April’s still just one big joke to me till and if I ever see differently.

Dad mentioned on the phone yesterday the possibility of them coming here at the end of this year or the spring of ‘96.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1995 Got a Valentine’s card for both of us from mom and dad and a letter from Bob.

In the car, on our way out to the appointments, I nearly killed Tom with this journal. The sun reflected in his eyes, nearly blinding him.

Actually, I really want to go get some letters written. Typed, I mean, so I’ll come back later and write.

Later…

OK, all about my appointment now. My hearing has increased by almost ½, but it could’ve been better if my ear canal wasn’t squished shut. The inner ear is still looking great and the skin graft has healed well, even though it’s not as thick as he’d like it to be. In 4-6 weeks he does have to operate again to re-open the outer ear canal. The good news is that this operation will take only two hours and not 5. Recovery will be speedy and virtually painless. Nowhere near as rough as the last time. No pressure strap either! I hated that thing. He thinks that that’s what may have caused the plastic piece in the frame to poke through. He had to do it, however, to stop the major bleeding. He’s gonna vaporize the area with a laser. The two reasons he’s got to operate are so I don’t get a deadly infection, which would most definitely happen. Also, so I can hear even better. He bluntly admitted that his territory is the inner ear only. At least we know he doesn’t have an ego. We’re being referred to a Dr. Joganic who does the outer ear stuff. They’re gonna see if they can team up together so they can both do their stuff in 1 operation.

I’ll probably have 3 choices as far as what can be done about the plastic piece that’s exposed. 1. To hack off the upper ear completely. This is probably what I’ll do cuz it seems to be the quickest and easiest thing. So, my ear will be uglier than all hell. Oh well. 2. Is to rebuild it from scratch. Supposedly the doctor can take cartilage from my ribs. Having an incision in my belly area probably won’t tickle, but at least I don’t care about the scar. Not when I already have a million scars and stretch marks and other skin defects. 3. Is to do nothing about it at all if that’s not dangerous.

Dr. Neilson said he’d do another skin graft from the same area under my left upper arm. The scar tissue apparently built up and squished the ear canal shut, so this is why he’s got to re-graft the outer canal. He said there’s a 98% success rate for the second operation keeping the canal wide open.

I had been worried that I wouldn’t be able to get on with my life and that I’d have a million doctor’s appointments a month for the next year or so, but he said not to worry and to go ahead and get on with my life.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 1995 I got 15 minutes of him playing van next door for the first time in a week or two. Must be my compensation for the kids being quieter, but I’ll take that over the kids. The guy’s so weird, though. Must’ve been doing something he didn’t want his family to see. Or maybe he was taking his sweet time as far as entering a house with a million screaming kids after a long day of work.

Yesterday I finished typing up 37 and began 42 today. All the ones between 37-42 are either done or just letters.

Amazingly enough, I pulled myself out of bed around noon again today. Can’t believe I’ve been holding the same schedule now for over a week. Tom’s gonna wake me up tomorrow shortly after noon. I have those two appointments tomorrow. I am not looking forward to them!

I had pork chops and tater tots ready for when Tom got home. I did my nails and vacuumed after Tom fixed the vacuum, and that’s really about all. I’m not in the mood to read or finish up the puzzle, so I guess I’ll go do some computer work.

I wish I had been more organized when I first began editing. I should’ve made a list and edited one convo at a time. Due to my having jumped around so much, who the hell knows where I am? I believe I’ve edited almost everything I’ve got and am far from being as backed up as I thought.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 1995 I haven’t been as consistent with my writing lately, have I? Where do I begin now? Well, with whatever comes to mind, I guess.

Very late Sunday night I was talking with Andy. He called the Springfield weather line and I called his machine so we could tape it. Sure enough, it was 0º with an expected high for the next day only in the middle teens. We were cracking up and I played the tape for Tom and Tammy after I taped it onto a regular tape. At that time it was 62º here with an expected high of 82º for the next day.

I laid out today, but not for very long at all. It only takes me about 45 minutes to start getting sun poisoning.

Next door’s been great.

Got a message from Alex the other day and a letter from Kim. She had also enclosed a “love letter” she got from Bob who I haven’t been hearing from too much.

Yesterday I finished that 1000-piece puzzle and am almost done with the 500-piece one.

I have been having to set my clock for noon so as to be able to make it to my appointment OK. It’s been hard, but I’ve been doing it.

Later…

Wow! I guess I really can tell when I’m ovulating. The book said something about slight quick cramps and higher temperatures. Also, your fluids are runnier. I thought this would normally all happen at once, but about 4-5 days ago I was “runny” for a few days. Then two days ago I had a few cramps and right now, 14 days after my period, my temperature’s 99.1.

Not surprisingly, Tom’s beat and is going to bed.

When I’m mid-cycle, he gives off just as many mixed messages about having a kid as I sometimes do, though not nearly as much as he does. I’m sure everyone does this at some point, but I can think of lots of things he’s said to indicate he does want a kid and lots of things he’s said to indicate he doesn’t. He’s told me that he likes the idea of it being 1996 and my being 30 when we have a kid. Therefore, maybe in April or May, he’ll let himself cum. He’s still “always close.” If he doesn’t cum by April or May then I’ll wonder if he really does want one, even though he says he does, or if there’s anything wrong with him. He’s said he’s cum before, so I still assume he’s holding off.

We did screw around last night and it was great. Once again I was able to cum as long as I fingered my clit.

Tomorrow evening I’ll take my temperature again to see if the higher temp lingers on and for how long.

Later…

Tom and I had a productive talk before he went to bed. We always communicate and talk, but this was different and I’m glad to be enlightened, so to speak. As smart as I am, I felt really bad and stupid for not understanding a certain thing, but Tom told me not to think I did anything wrong or bad. He said he wants a kid really bad, but to understand how pressure can make things hard for you, even if it’s all about something you want to do. I want to be more of a day person, but it can be stressful. I want to cut down on my smoking, but that can be stressful, too. He said if I just wait two months, I’ll be pregnant. I’m so so so sorry if I’ve appeared to be pressuring this man. He understands, though, that I never meant to pressure him and that’s OK to discuss something you’re interested in (despite my fears about it) like how he and I constantly gab about computers and music. I didn’t realize that this is a different kind of pressure and I’m glad I can see that now for both of our sakes. Otherwise, he and I are doing fine and getting along just great.

Tom’s hairdresser had really nice long beautiful hair. Mine’s an inch away from the crack of my ass, but she really inspired me to keep up on mine. I sat back and said to myself, hey, why are you doing this? Why are you neglecting your hair when you don’t have to worry about money and you’ve got a perfect hairdresser living right here 24/7? So, on March 1st, I’ll probably have Tom take 2” off. Then 1” every 6 weeks. I’ve been using the detangler which is very heavy. She recommended something called Ensure by Nexus and says it’s lighter and works better.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1995 Where shall I start tonight with my update? Well, yesterday Tom and I went out and he got his hair trimmed. He has curly hair and when you pulled it straight it was in between his neck and the middle of his back. He got a few inches trimmed, but it’s still kind of long.

We went to the library. He got a book on how to fix CD players and has begun fixing the CD player I had bought with my rent deposit from Russ. That was the very end of March of ’91, a few days before I moved to S. Deerfield. I got a regular-print mystery book and a large-print romance novel. Large print is really cool, but I just couldn’t get into this romance book, so I’ve just begun the mystery.

While he was getting his haircut, I went to the art store nearby with a $20 bill he gave me. There I got another silk-like flower and a long leafy vine-like thing. I’ve got that strung across the living room/hall doorway. We still plan to get some wire mesh someday, more flowers little by little, and build an arc of flowers in one of the doorways.

I also got a mug with a picture of a collie. They have tons of dog mugs there and little by little I’d like to replace my mugs with them.

Lastly, I got a 500-piece puzzle of a piano, sheet music & violin. They had several nice puzzles and I’m almost done with the one I’ve been doing. No more 1000-piece puzzles, though. They’re a pain in the ass. Especially on a regular-size table with no room to spread out the pieces to see them better.

Tom picked up tax forms at the PO after his hair was done.

Tom showed me where the nearest regular mailbox is. It isn’t too far from here, but I still wish there were one on this street corner.

Today Tom and I went to Scottsdale (Snottsdale) for a job fair at Wells Fargo Bank. He wasn’t impressed at all and said they pay pretty shitty dough.

Later…

Next door has been wonderful. The last week has been warm to even kind of hot in the low 80s. I was really afraid I’d get no peace out back, but all’s been just great. They’re moved to the front of the house as they do at this time of year. Why I don’t know, but there’s been no ear-piercing screaming or ball games.

Got another Prodigy letter from Alex and I replied back.

Tammy told me about a week ago she’d put some recipes on Prodigy. Yeah, right. Does she ever do anything she says she’s gonna do? Not since I’ve been out here.

Late last night I rearranged the living room. I was afraid it might be a bitch, but it was a piece of cake. It looks really nice, but we still want and could use an entertainment center.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1995 Our winter here is definitely on its way out. It was 82º today and it’ll be 84º tomorrow. I laid out in the sun today and yesterday for about an hour. I began to get sun poisoning on my thighs, though, so I have to not lay out, but I can still go out and do whatever. I do have more color, though.

Yesterday I finished typing 36 and now have 50 journals typed up. It’s amazing that I’ve typed up my life on Oswego St. and Woodside Terrace in Springfield, then S. Deerfield and Norwich. Then the two apartments I was in at the Vista and now I’m right where I just moved in Crystal and just met Tom.

Larry called last night. Sandy and Jennifer got their cards yesterday. I talked to all 4 of them there and I was laughing at Sandy. We’ve been having beautiful weather and it’s freezing there.

Larry and I exchanged jokes as usual.

That tennis player Martina Navratilova was found drowned.

They found her face down on Ricki Lake.

After a cigarette break and a change of pens, I’ll write more bad news about my ear.

Later…

The doctor was worried that this plastic thing they put in my ear frame in Boston may poke through. Well, it did, so now I may have to see a plastic surgeon cuz he only deals with the inner ear. Great. Just great. I’ve really had enough of this. It makes me just want to forget about continuing on with my ear, fuck the dentist, and fuck having a kid. I don’t really know if I’m even gonna bother with my two appointments next week. If I did, it’d only be cuz of how much it means to Tom.

I talked with Tammy today who didn’t get a call from Larry last night. I knew she talked to little Larry a few times and I had thought she had also talked to Sandy and Jenny, but she’s never talked to them.

[heroloverangel]

Delicate

This is technically a sequel to last year’s Dad Mirio fic but can be read on its own! Everyone’s favorite Wholesome Dilf continues to live rent-free in my brain.

“I miss you soooo much,” Mirio says for the fifth time in the past twenty minutes. You give him a comforting smile from your side of the screen, you know how he feels. Your husband’s been gone for three days now helping with a disaster in Osaka, and he probably won’t be home for the rest of the week. It’s hard being married to one of Japan’s top heroes, you think to yourself. You wish you could be there with him, putting your training to good use where it’s needed, but your current assignment is too important to ignore. It’s as if he can read your mind from the other side of the country. “How’s my buddy doing?”

You smile and tilt your camera down to show off your heavy stomach. At eight months pregnant, you’re sidelined from hero work no matter what the crisis is. “He’s alright,” you confirm. “I think he’s bored without you around, though.” He lets out a little whine that’s almost heartbreaking; it’s obvious where he’d rather be right now. You take pity on him and drop the phone level with your belly to give him a better view. 

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “I promise, I’ll finish as fast as I can so I can come home to you and Mama soon.” You feel movement inside you as he talks. You don’t know how good your baby’s hearing is, especially through the video chat, but you’re sure that he’s reacting to his father’s familiar voice. “I can’t wait to get back and feel how strong you’re kicking in there. I bet you’re driving Mama crazy!” You relax further into your pillows and let him babble on to your bump about his day saving civilians and clearing out rubble, only a little lonely when you look over at the empty half of your bed. You really do miss him, your house is far too quiet and calm without his usual energy filling it.

You yawn after a few more minutes and glance at the time. “Sorry, it’s getting kinda late. Would you mind if we called it a night for now?”

He smiles, but you can tell that he’s trying to hide his disappointment. “No problem, I know you need your sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow, okay?” You agree and tell your husband you love him before hanging up the phone and settling in for bed. You’re tired, but you’ve gotten too comfortable with him sleeping beside you and it takes awhile to fall asleep on your own.

You spend the next morning balancing your laptop over your swollen belly while you browse through maternity clothes. There’s a local shop that promises same-day delivery, and you treat yourself to a few things for your last month. You read through your email, a magazine wants a quick interview for an article about hero families and you’re happy to answer their questions. It’s hard to move too much in your condition, but you make sure to do the prenatal exercises your doctor recommended and then have a nice long shower. Your new clothes arrive and you leave them on the dresser for now while you eat lunch and call your family. It still seems too quiet in the house without Mirio, and you’re getting bored when your phone finally rings and your face lights up at his name.

“Hey sweetheart! I’ve got a surprise for you!”

You can hear the smile in his voice and it warms your heart. “Is it dinner? I think somebody in here’s really craving steak tonight.”

He laughs. “You’ll see. Just have a seat on the couch and close your eyes for a second, okay?”

This isn’t the weirdest thing he’s requested over the phone, and you obey. “Alright, they’re closed. What are you planning, Lemillion?”

“You can open your eyes in three...two...one…” his voice disappears from the phone, all you hear is the background noise of birds chirping.

“Mirio?” Your eyes are still closed.

“SURPRISE!” 

You jump in shock and drop your phone, your eyes flying open. He’s standing in front of you with the biggest grin on his face, completely naked. It takes you a second to realize he must have phased through the front door to surprise you. You struggle to stand but fail, and he has to pull you up himself into his arms for a deep kiss. “You’re home early! How’d you manage that?”

“The others knew how much I wanted to get home, with you being pregnant and all, and everybody worked extra hard to cover for me so I could leave first.” You owe every single one of them a thank you gift. “Boy, that Uravity is amazing with rescue work!” Oh, you owe her twice as much after this.

“I’m glad you’re home,” you sigh happily. Your husband drops to his knees in front of you and pushes your shirt up to kiss your stomach, rubbing his hand where he feels a faint kick.

“Me too. I missed our family so much.” His arms wrap around you and he rests his head against your middle. You run your fingers through his hair, both of you taking a minute to relish your little reunion. It’s only been a few days, but it was more than enough to make you homesick for each other.

He stands back up after a bit and you head for the hallway. “You should go grab your phone off the porch and take a shower. I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you too, when you’re done.” He’s happy to obey and you follow him down the hall, pausing at the front door then into the bedroom. You wait for the bathroom door to shut and then spring into action as fast as you can. You clothes come off; you kick them under the bed instead of wasting precious time trying to pick them off the floor. 

You reach for the new clothes on the dresser and find the outfit you’d picked for his welcome home gift. The bra is made out of soft white lace so flimsy it looks like it’ll tear if you breathe too hard. It ties closed with a ribbon in the front and your clumsy fingers finally form a decent bow on the third try. A skirt attaches beneath the cups and just skims your thighs, the two halves of it parted to show off your obvious pregnancy. You’re lucky that the matching underwear ties on the sides with more ribbon; you’re not sure you’d be able to get them on without five minutes of struggling if you had to step into them. 

You look at yourself in the mirror and adjust the skirt of your lingerie. Despite the sheer fabric leaving little to the imagination, you look sweet. Innocent. Delicate. A grin spreads across your face; it’s perfect.

You get dressed just in time; you hear the shower turn off and the door opens a second later. “There, all clean and-” Mirio freezes at the sight of you and you see his fingers twitch against the towel wrapped around his waist. “Oh, wow. You look...just, wow.” He’s crossed the room faster than you can react, strong arms wrapping you in a tight, warm hug. “You’re so gorgeous like this, babe.”

You lean into his body; you’ve missed this while he was gone. “Well, it’ll be awhile before we can do this again. I figured we should really enjoy ourselves while we still can.” He nods and gives you a surprisingly gentle kiss. You can tell he’s holding back his strength for your benefit and the knowledge makes your heart flutter.

Mirio recovers from his surprise quickly and returns to his usual unstoppable energy. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise!” His bigger hand is warm around yours as he guides you to your bed, losing his towel in the process. You don’t hide your staring; his body is gorgeous after so many years of training and you could look at him for hours. He sits back against the headboard and carefully brings you with him to straddle his lap, and you feel his cock already growing hard against your thigh. “We’ll take it easy,” he promises. “I know we have to be a little more gentle now since you’re so big-” You stare down at Mirio silently, but he continues. “What? You are big, that’s a good thing. You’re growing our baby in there, he needs all that room!” You just shake your head; you can’t really feel annoyed when he’s this sweet.

He looks up at you with pure affection written all over his face and leans into your touch as you run your fingers through his damp hair. “How can you be this buff and this adorable?” It’s not the first time you’ve asked as much, and every time he laughs you off with a faint blush on his cheeks. You lean in for another kiss while his hands move from your hips over your ribs to the front of your slip.

“This is so pretty, you should keep it on.” He gives your chest a squeeze and you whine, too sensitive from the hormones wrecking havoc on your body. You knew your breasts were going to get bigger, but they’ve turned out to be overachievers and you’ve jumped up two cup sizes already. “They’re still really sore, huh?” You nod and he offers you a comforting smile as he plays with the bow before finally tugging it open. Your nipples are already hard, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips when his thumb brushes over one. “I could help you with that, if you want.”

“Mirio…” You love your husband and all his enthusiasm, but you’re well aware that he can be a little too eager and get carried away. He’s being careful now as his fingers trace against your warm skin, his touch barely teasing you. He pulls you closer; you can feel the smile on his lips as he leans into your neck. He follows your pulse, down your collarbone to leave kisses at the swell of your breast and you sigh. “Okay,” you agree. “Just remember to-”

“I know, be gentle. Don’t worry babe, I’m gonna take good care of you.” He pushes your lingerie out of the way to get a better view at your heavy chest and appreciates the sight of it. “Man, our kid’s not gonna be lacking on calcium, is he?”

“I love you, please stop talking.” He laughs but obeys, his tongue flicking over your nipple and making you squirm in his arms. He does it a few times and you let out a little gasp when he takes you into his mouth. “Go easy,” you remind him, but he’s already distracted with his task. You asked your doctor about doing this before and were told it was perfectly fine, but you can’t quite shake the thought that it’s a little weird as Mirio begins to suck at your tender nipple.

You’ve tried this before, but every time he’s been too rough in his excitement and you’ve had to yank his head away from you in pain. Tonight though, he’s trying his best and after a few seconds of discomfort there’s an unfamiliar tingle deep in your breast as your body responds to his stimulation. “It feels weird,” you groan, but your fingers thread into his hair so he won’t pull away. “It’s not bad, just weird.” You’re not entirely sure you like what he’s doing, but you’re willing to continue until you figure it out. His tongue brushes over you with a slightly different motion, and something in you clicks into place. “Can you do that again? I think I liked that.”

His laughter is muffled but still obvious and you can feel the smile against your skin. Mirio’s happy to assist, one strong hand settling on your back to keep you steady. It wasn’t a mistake; he repeats his movements and you realize that it feels good. It feels really good, you have to admit, as his eyes slip closed so he can focus entirely on pleasing you like this. You hold him tight to your body, fingers running through his messy hair while you enjoy the affection so happily given. You’re still sensitive though, and after a few more minutes you start to get overwhelmed and have to pull him away.

“It tastes good.” His grin is huge as he licks his lips. “It’s sweet, just like the rest of you.” You’d roll your eyes if he wasn’t so cute. He gives your breast a gentle squeeze and earns another whimper from you, then turns his attention to the other one. “Don’t want this side feeling left out, right? Lucky I’m here to take care of everything!” Your heart skips a beat, you’re so in love with this silly, wonderful idiot. You don’t get a chance to respond, once his mouth is back on you it’s hard to do anything besides pant and whine for him.

You squirm against him, his dick pressing against your thigh and your panties doing very little to hide how much you’re loving this. “Miriooo,” you moan, and the look in his eyes is nothing but pure happiness that makes you melt. “You always take good care of me,” you coo, reaching down to stroke his cock lightly. “You’re so good to me, honey.” He pulls you closer and releases your chest to look up and meet your eyes.

“Babe, I’m just giving you what you deserve. You’re literally making a brand new, little person in there. If that’s not worth being extra nice, I don’t know what is.” He really has no idea how perfect he is. His thumb brushes over your nipple and your body is so sensitive now it makes you shudder. “Alright now?”

You stop for a second to consider. Your breasts do feel a bit lighter, there’s less pressure weighing down on you after his help. “Yeah, thanks. You’re the best, really.”

He brushes off your compliment in favor of pulling at the strings holding your underwear together. “Just doing my job, miss.” He groans at the sight of you fully naked and traces a finger along the lips of your cunt. You hadn’t noticed just how wet you were getting as he’d worked on your nipples, but now two of his fingers slip inside you with no effort. “I love you so much,” he says with another kiss.

You buck into his hand mindlessly, too eager for his touch after only a few days. You want to hold off and come with his dick buried inside you, but you can’t deny yourself when you’re this needy already. “I want it,” you whine pitifully.

His other hand gives your hip a reassuring squeeze. “I know, baby. You can have whatever you want, just tell me.” His thumb swirls over your clit and he doesn’t miss the jolt that runs down your body. “Right there, huh? My pretty little wife wants me to make her come?” His smirk is playful and there’s a glint of mischief in those friendly eyes.

“Mirio, please.” Hearing him talk like that does something to you and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

His hand moves faster and your pussy clenches tight around his fingers. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. Just let yourself go for me.” His voice is so warm and soothing, you can’t resist. Your orgasm is marked with desperate whispers in his ear as his hand moves gently between your thighs to urge you on. “That’s it, honey. You’re so good, I want more of you.”

It takes you a minute to calm down before you’re able to pry your sweaty face away from his shoulder. His fingers leave you aching to be filled again, and you swallow hard when you watch him bring them to his mouth to lick them clean. 

“That’s my girl,” he smiles like the sun and you look away, almost embarrassed by the affection between you two. You can’t see anything past your swollen belly, but you can feel his thick cock ready for a turn. “Are you up for more? It’s fine if you need to wait-”

You fumble blindly for his cock until the tip presses just outside your cunt. “I want you inside me. Here, Mirio. Your pretty little wife wants to make you come.” The blush spreading across his face at your words is a special reward of its own. His hips thrust upward to enter you while he slowly pulls you down to meet him, and your mouth falls open in a long moan. “Fuck, Mirio. We’ll have to wait a couple weeks after he’s born and it’s gonna suck so bad.”

He hasn’t put much thought into this fact and you can practically see the gears in his head turning. “Well then, I guess we’d better make it count while we still have the chance,” he says finally. He’s always so much stronger than you, even when you’re not in such a delicate condition, and easily sets a steady pace moving you up and down his dick. You cling to his shoulders to steady yourself as you ride him, pressing your tongue into hs mouth to devour his sounds. This may be the peak of happiness, with your sweet husband pounding away inside your excited pussy, showering you with compliments about how great you are and how perfect your little family is going to be. “And once he gets a little older, we can start working on his siblings!”

Your hips falter in their rhythm at the suggestion. “S-siblings? Already?”

He grins back at you. “Of course! We need five or six, at least!”

“Five or six…” you repeat, suddenly distracted by the thought of doing this another half-dozen times. You don’t know why you’re surprised, it’d be more of a shock if he didn’t have infinite love to share. The idea doesn’t bother you, and you find yourself returning his smile with a smirk of your own. “You really wanna fill me up that much, Lemillion?”

You’re not expecting his thrusts to speed up so much or for him to pull you down so hard you’re gasping for air. “God, babe. So much. I think about it like, all the time now. You have no idea.” He stops to kiss you again, and your cunt squeezes hard around him. “I can take more time off of work,” Mirio insists mindlessly, getting far too ahead of himself. “I bet I can hold so many babies at once.”

You laugh, he’s so ridiculous sometimes. “Let’s just focus on this one for awhile, okay?” He nods, trailing his lips down your throat to feel how fast your pulse is racing for him. You can feel another orgasm building, and that he isn’t far behind. You were only apart for three days but it seems like far too long. “You’re really, really the best.”

He cups your sweaty face in one hand, the look in his eyes so soft and loving it takes your breath away. There aren’t enough words to describe how much you love him right now, and clearly it’s the same for him. Wordlessly he releases you and drags his hand down your body, stopping to tweak your nipples and making you cry out. His fingers drop to rub firmly against your clit, and your back goes rigid. “Miri-ohh. Just like that, I’m gonna...there, fuck.” You clamp down hard on his cock with a loud moan and he holds you tight, supporting your overworked body while you come. “Here,” your voice is ragged. “Your turn, I know you’re dying to come inside me.”

“You’re amazing, honey.” That last compliment is all he gets out before his pace goes sloppy and you feel him flooding your pussy with a low groan. “You’re so amazing.” 

You cling to him while he gradually wears himself out and stay wrapped up in his arms for the next few minutes. Eventually, there’s a firm kick in your belly that informs you that someone noticed all your movement and he’s not happy about it. Both of you laugh as you separate; you flop down on the bed while Mirio cleans you up and finds you a comfy, oversized shirt and fresh panties to wear. It’s still fairly early, and you won’t be tired enough to sleep for a few hours.

“Now that was a welcome home gift. You should just wear that around the house until you have the baby, it looks really great on you.”

You ruffle his messy hair. “I don’t think it would survive the entire month around you,” you tease. You stretch your arms above your head and feel a grumble in your stomach. “So, the surprise wasn’t steak for dinner tonight?”

He’s in too good of a mood to even think of denying you. “It is now!” He’s already fumbling for his phone to look up menus. “Whatever you wanna eat, just say the word!”

Sometimes you wonder how you ever got so lucky.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

More than just a game

Warnings: dark elements including noncon and rape, oral, fingering, doxxing, stalking, and other explicit content. 

This is dark!Jake Jensen and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find a new gaming buddy but he sees you as more than that.

Note: So this is my first Jake Jensen fic and it was lots of fun so let me know what you think and hope you enjoy. :D

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Special shout-out to @navybrat817​ for helping me with this idea

After too many nights scrolling through subreddits and searching for something to keep you distracted, you decided to bite the hook. Several other redditors agreed to hop on Minecraft and it had been a while since you logged in. You missed the almost relaxing ritual of mining and building.

You joined the chat, quick to hit the little microphone emblem as you listened to the voices in your headset. You learned long ago to keep your mic muted on the servers, especially with strangers. The last time you dared to speak up as a woman in a game chat, your DMs had become so overwhelmed you deleted and started a new account on Discord and changed your ID on Steam.

You were all given your tasks as players called out coordinates and you kept to chopping up the side of a mountain. You mostly worked alone, chatting through text instead of voice chat. As you placed a crafting table in your little mine, another player, JJ-Smooth, popped up and dropped some iron for you. 

He stayed close but you didn’t mind. A lot of players tried to work together the deeper they got and you were used to it. As you uncovered some lava, he dumped water before you could get burned and helped you hack up the obsidian. 

He thanked you on the voice chat but you knew any courtesy in return would earn you the attention of the entire server. So you dropped some gold for him and went on your way.

“I hear a zombie,” he warned.

You turned to hack up the undead before it could get you, only to be shot by a skeleton hidden on the next level. Another appeared and you died before you could hide, the bony villain killed by your ally as you watched your possession scatter over the death screen.

“Hey, I got your stuff,” he said as you loaded back up, “I’ll find you.”

You typed quickly in the chat, ‘sorry, mic busted, give me your coordinates and I’ll come to you.’

You waited as ‘JJ-Smooth is typing…’ appeared at the bottom and finally he sent the numbers. You hopped over the blocky hills and through the forests until you found the mine again. He was just outside and handed over all your tools and ration. He headed back into the mine and you followed him. This time, you began your own path in the opposite direction.

Before you knew it, you’d lost track of time. You sat back as you realised it was only you and JJ on the server. The silence should have tipped you off earlier. He was the host and you felt super awkward for staying so long. You typed that you were logging off for the night and thanked him. 

You hit the keyboard with your knuckle and yawned as you opened the screen, 

“God, it’s late,” you muttered.

“Hello?” he said.

Your eyes rounded as you looked at the mic symbol and the lack of red line made you cringe. You’d hit an extra button without noticing.

“Um, hi, sorry, I just--”

“Mic busted, huh?” he asked.

“No, I--” you didn’t know what to say, “anyways, I should--”

“So, you’re a chick? Is that why you mute?”

“Uh, well, it’s just… easier, sorry, I--” even if you weren’t trying to hide from gamer dudes, you weren’t the best at conversation.

“A gamer girl, nice,” he said and you sighed, “sorry, that sounded weird, didn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” you touched your bottom lip as you cupped your chin, “it’s late, I have to work tomorrow.”

“You comin’ back?” he asked, almost hopeful.

“I don’t know--”

“I won’t tell anyone,” he said abruptly, “promise, lips sealed.”

“I really don’t know if I can do this too much, I usually work early mornings so… yeah,” you said.

“I get it but you know you’re always welcome, hope you don’t mind if I send you an invite now and then. No pressure,” he offered.

“Uh, sure,” you shrugged, “okay, yeah, good night.”

You left the chat quickly and pulled off your headset. Shit.

‘I’m Jake by the way,’ a pm popped up, ‘gg.’

You typed back, ‘gg, it was fun’ and quickly logged out. You sat back and rubbed your eyes. Well, he didn’t seem like a total creep, maybe just a bit awkward but so were you. You shut down for the night and stretched out as you switched off the lamp. You were going to pay for your session in the morning.

🎮

A few nights later you got an invite to the server. You debated it but as it was Friday, you decided to make good use of the PC you’d saved up forever to build. You spawned in the middle of nowhere and built a bed before you found the half-finished settlement. You joined the chat but you must have been early as you were the only one there.

You headed back to the same mine, some work done since the first night, and laid your torches as you ventured into the depths. You jumped in your seat as a voice broke your peace.

“I don’t think anyone else is gonna join,” JJ-Smooth, or Jensen said, “you think maybe you’ll unmute?”

You stopped your mining and stared at the screen. You hovered over the mic button and re-read his name, he was the only other one there. You clicked and gave a strained smile to the screen.

“So, um, what’s the goal tonight?” you asked.

“Get some materials and go back to the settlement, keep building, oh, maybe we could try a portal, you ever gone to the nether?” he said but before you could reply he kept on, “shit, I shouldn’t assume, you seem like an experienced player.”

“Yeah, a few times, but I’m more a casual miner,” you went back to harvesting stone and ore.

“Ah,” he said, and it was silent for a moment, “so, you work again in the morning?”

“Not tomorrow,” you said as you focused on the game, “daycare isn’t open on the weekends.”

“A daycare, huh? That sounds fun, I love kids… not in a weird way but you know, I… urgh, I have a niece,” he said with a nervous chuckle, “nah, that’s cool though, sounds more fun than my gig.”

“Oh?” you turned and kept your axe moving.

“IT. You know, some people would be like ‘hey Jensen, why do you spend all your free time staring at a screen when that’s what you do at work?’” he scoffed, “well, who says I’m not mining there too.”

You wrinkled your forehead and gave a small laugh. He was rambling and it was kinda odd. You were happy for once not to be the strange one.

“But anyway,” he said, “I found lots of diamond over here. If we get some lapis lazuli we can build an enchanting table and get some sick armour.”

“Awesome,” you pressed your fingertips to your lip as you leaned on your elbow, “should try to head back before dark…”

“Hard to tell down here. How about you mine and I’ll keep an eye out for monsters?” he offered.

“Sure,” you agreed as he came onto your screen, “that works.”

🎮

Another week went by and you ventured back into the server a few times but not for very long as late nights did not mix with young children. The next weekend, you joined again on Saturday night and like the last few times it was just you and Jensen. You wondered why no one else was joining when the subreddit was so popular but you didn’t worry about it for long.

You mostly played in silence, Jensen did most of the talking and it was never about anything more than the game or his niece’s last soccer game. That night when you left the game, he kept typing on Discord.

‘I like playing with you,’ his message blipped up.

‘Same, thx.’

‘Really, you’re awesome.’

‘Thx :) Tired, gotta sleep.’

‘Sweet dreams.’

‘Night.’

You changed your status to offline and dragged yourself to bed. You opened your phone as you laid in the dark and went to the subreddit, you scrolled through the builds and screenshots of other people’s catastrophes. 

You came to Jensen’s last invite post from that night but all the comments complained that the world code was incorrect. Hmm, you should tell him next time.

You blackened your cell and plopped it on your night table. You rolled over and buried your face in the pillow, the light still etched into your vision. You fell asleep quickly and woke the next day to another invite from Jensen.

‘How about some Fortnite? If you’re into it?’

‘Srry, can’t, my mom’s expecting me for lunch.’

‘2 bad, maybe later.’

‘Maybe’.

You got ready to go see your mother for your usual Sunday afternoon visit and it went by like any other. When she asked you what you’d been up to, you didn’t mention the gaming, she was never a fan of it. When you got back home, Jensen was messaging you again. You didn’t open the notification and settled in to catch up on some streaming before another week of work.

Monday hit you like a train and you were glad you hadn’t spent the night mining again. If you had, you doubted you’d even be able to open your eyes. You got to the daycare centre and welcomed in the kids. You got them set up for the morning snack then cleaned up as Sandy took them over to the reading circle.

You wiped the tables and then did some painting before you went out for some play time in the yard. As you watched several of the children on the swings, you glanced around. There was a man across the street. You squinted through the chain link as he seemed to be watching but assured yourself it was nothing as he quickly headed for the corner and disappeared.

Inside, the kids were due for quiet time, some napped and those who didn’t, stared at the ceiling and yawned. You could have joined them but knew that wouldn’t be acceptable. The end of the day came and you helped the kids pack up their paintings and their sweaters. You waited in the yard with them as the parents showed up and handed them off one by one.

You waved to Danika as she clung to her mother and your eye was once more drawn beyond the chain link. The same faded grey jacket, the same glasses, and the hat with the frayed brim. It was a better look at the man. Was he looking at you? Why on earth was he hanging around outside a daycare?

“Sandy,” you turned and lowered your voice as she neared, “see that man?”

She peeked over and shrugged, “which one? The guy crossing the street?”

You looked up again and like before, he was walking away casually as if he hadn’t just been staring through the fence. You shook your head and huffed. “Sorry, never mind.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she waved her fingers, “come on, let’s clean up.”

With the kids all sorted out, you went back in and tidied up the last of their mess. You and Sandy were friendly but like with any, you weren’t very talkative. You never really knew what to say but you were never unkind.

You pulled on your jacket and checked your purse for your phone and wallet. You checked the time and turned off the lights. You bid Sandy goodbye as she headed for her SUV and you took your usual route down the sidewalk towards your bus stop. 

You stopped short as the man was there. You were paranoid, he must just be waiting for the same route. You approached and he turned to watch you as you sat on the bench. He smiled and the dread sank deep in your chest. 

His rectangular glasses gave light to his blue eyes and a goatee trimmed his jaw. He was tall and well-built, you could tell even under his comic book tee. He was going to talk to you, another weirdo in the city.

“Hey,” his voice was chillingly familiar, “how was your day?”

You stared at him and blinked cluelessly. You looked around, it was only the two of you. You opened your mouth but you had to be wrong. He said your name and you winced.

“Jensen?” you breathed as you stood and squeezed the strap of your bag, “why? How--?”

“You weren’t answering me, I was worried,” he said, “just making sure you’re okay.”

“What the-- I don’t understand how--” He stepped closer and you backed up against the bench. “Don’t, I’ll scream.”

“Scream? Why? I’m just-- You know me, it’s me, Jensen.”

“You doxxed me?” you snapped, “what the hell?”

“No, I didn’t-- I’m just checking on you--”

“I don’t know you,” you said as your heart began to race, “so please, leave me alone,” you edged away from him, “and don’t message me again.”

You sprinted across the street and as you came up on the curb, you looked back at him. He watched you but didn’t follow. You could tell from there he wasn’t happy but the brim of his cap shadowed most of his face so you couldn’t guess if it was hurt or anger. You quickly spun away and continued down the next street to the nearest stop.

You couldn’t believe he’d just shown up like that. You couldn’t believe he would think that was okay. You couldn’t believe he’d think that much about you.

🎮

You blocked Jensen on Discord and left his world on Minecraft. That night you were shaky and nervous, afraid that he would show up at your apartment. Did he know where you lived? He must if he could figure out where you worked.

You didn’t open Steam that night. You paced your small apartment, jumping at every noise. Sleep didn’t come easily but in shallow spurts that left you even more tired. You watched over your shoulder as you walked to your stop and boarded with one eye on the door.

Work was little better as you found yourself distracted in the room full of toddlers. Sandy asked if you were okay as you kneaded play-do violently. You shook yourself out of your paranoia and assured her you were only short on sleep, not a complete lie.

You took out your phone when you stepped out for a small break. Your mom had called but you would have to get back to her when you had two hours to waste. There was another notification, that one from Discord, a friend request from JJ-NoRematch. It wasn’t hard to guess who it was and you declined it right away.

There were several others from Jensen, too. He followed your Insta, blocked; he followed your mostly empty twitter, blocked; and he even commented on your LinkedIn like a weird. You closed your phone and took a breath before you headed back into the kids, their voices rising in their excitement to go outside.

In the yard, you had another look around, expecting to see him there on the other side of the fence. You were slightly relieved when he wasn’t but still on edge. You joined a game of tag then watched several of the kids line up for the slide. You lost yourself in your job as you told yourself he must have gotten the hint, at least not to bother you irl.

Just like the day before, and every day, you left work and headed for your stop. He wasn’t there either and you sat down and phoned your mom, hanging up as the bus pulled up with a promise to call her again when you were home. At home, you felt almost normal again and checked your notifications; no more follows, no more requests, nothing.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday passed in a similar fashion. Each saw your anxieties less than the day before. You even resolved to open Steam and start a new world for yourself. You spent hours mining and almost fell asleep in your chair. When you nearly tipped over, you decided it was time for bed.

You slept better than you had all week and woke up before noon. You wanted to log right back on but you had life to deal with; groceries, cleaning, and of course, making that call to your mother you’d delayed the night before. After all that, you felt accomplished and you decided to treat yourself to take out, a rare divulgence.

You called the local Chinese eatery and waited eagerly for your feast as you turned on a new episode of your current binge. You played on your phone until the battery was low and had enough juice to buzz up the delivery man. You dug for your wallet as you went to the door and unlocked it without looking up.

“How much--” you asked as you opened the door.

Your eyes met a familiar pair, two blue gems behind a pair of narrow glasses. Jensen wore the same cap and held the paper bag of take-out with a smile. You grabbed the door and tried to swing it shut but he was too quick as he slapped a large hand against the peeling paint.

“It’s on me,” he said, “I love spare ribs.”

“What the--” you gasped as you pushed on the door helplessly, “please go away.”

“You’re not answering me,” he said as he stepped closer and forced you back as his body brushed against yours, “you blocked me and I can’t even get a hey, Jensen, how are you?”

“I don’t want you here,” you tried to shove him and he shouldered you away easily, “get out!”

He slammed the door and you flinched. He put the bag down on the corner table and reached back to twist the lock without a look. His eyes roved around your entryway and further into your apartment. He smiled as they stilled and focused on you.

“This place is cute… like you,” he said and you heard a slight hesitation in his voice.

You swallowed and backed away from him. You spun on your heel and ran for your couch. You reached over the back to your phone and unlocked it as the battery icon flashed. You had just enough juice to make the call. You dialed as you turned back to him.

“I’m calling the police so you b-better l-leave,” you warned as your voice and hands shook, “I me--”

He was quick and before you could pull away, he swiped your cell out of your hand. He scoffed and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall and landed screen down on the hardwood. You bit down and pressed yourself to the couch. You stared at him and kicked yourself forward as you tried to slip past him. He caught you and wrestled you back into the front room.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked calmly as you struggled in his grasp, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

“N-no, you’re-- you-- let me go,” you stammered as he angled you around the couch. He pushed you down so you bounced on the cushion. You tried to push yourself up and he pointed his finger in your face and wagged it. 

“No, you stay,” he growled and wiped his other hand on his jeans. He was nervous, even if he was angry.

“Please, why-- what do you want?” you grasped the cushion and hovered at the edge of the couch.

He sighed and sat in the chair. He took his hat off and set it on the table as he ran his fingers through his short hair. 

“Good question,” he said as his jaw squared and his eyes turned to pinpoints, “better one, why did you block me?”

“Are you serious? You-- you--” you struggled to get your words out, your voice even more splintered by your fear, “you doxxed me, you came to-- to my work-- and…”

“I thought we were getting along. I thought you liked me,” he said with a frown, “I really did, you sure acted like it and-- I only wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“But why wouldn’t I be? I--” you shivered and crossed your arms as you withered beneath his gaze, “Jensen, this was only supposed to be online.”

He scoffed and stomped his boot on the floor. He shook his head as he looked to the ceiling and his anger bulged along his temple. He tilted his head and looked at you again.

“You know, for years, I have been a nice guy, I am a nice guy,” he pushed his shoulders to his ears as he threw his hand out, “I’m so patient and caring and you girls, you don’t even give me a second look.”

“Jensen--”

“No, really, I mean look at you, you’re no supermodel and yet it’s the same thing, ‘let’s just be friends’,” he spat, “but I watch guys all the time treat women like shit and they don’t have any trouble at all, they got them hanging off of them and I’m a creep for giving them a compliment or opening the door--”

“I don’t… know you,” you eked out, “you have to understand--”

“I don’t understand,” he stood abruptly, “I’m done trying to understand.”

He pulled his jacket open and slid it down his arms. You watched him sling it over the chair and as he turned back to you, you stood. He caught your shoulders and held you in place. His strength was plain in his grip as he squeezed then slowly moved his hands to cradle your face.

“I just wanna be nice,” he said as he leaned in. You tried to pull away but he moved a hand around the back of your head and forced your lips against his. He poked his tongue inside your mouth roughly as you tried to shove him away. Finally, he parted, his hands still firmly around your head, “wasn’t that nice?”

“Please,” you begged as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

His eyes searched your face as you stared back at him in terror. He sighed and dropped his hands back to your shoulders. He pushed you down to the sofa harshly and backed away.

“Fine, I won’t be nice,” he snarled as he took his glasses off and folded them carefully. He put them on the table beside his cap and twined his fingers together, loudly cracking his knuckles.

You blinked at him as your eyes grew glossy. You brought your legs up under you and pressed yourself to the back of the couch. You grasped the upholstery and turned as you launched yourself over to the other side. You stumbled as you landed on your feet and ran for the door.

You were yanked back as he snaked his arms around you and took you off your feet. You kicked out and screamed but it was cut off by his palm as he kept one arm around your middle. You scratched at his hand as he dragged you back to the couch. He pushed you face down onto the cushions and planted his knee in the middle of your back, slipping his hand away as he put enough weight on you to keep your voice suffocated.

“Listen, I know I look like some IT nerd but I’m a lot more than that, now don’t make me hurt you,” he played with your hair as he smiled down at you, “you try that again and I will shut you up and if someone hears you, I can take care of them too.”

You sniffed as tears pricked in your eyes and nodded frantically as it felt as if he would snap your spine. He pushed off of you and you stayed as you were, paralysed with fear. He sat and unlaced his boots one at a time. He looked up as he set them neatly beside the foot of the chair and he bent to catch your eye.

“Well?” he pointed at you and traced the line of your body in the air, “let’s go.”

You stared at him dumbly and he stood to pull his tee over his head. His torso was sculpted perfectly and his chest trimmed with hair that trailed all the way down to his pants. He stepped forward and tugged at the back of your shirt.

“You want me to do it for you, baby?” he purred, “I can help you.”

You swatted him away and sat up. You bent your legs to your chest and hugged them. “Please, I’m scared, just leave me alone--”

His hand rested on his belt and exhaled again. His fingers moved swiftly to unloop the striped belt and unbutton his jeans. He pushed them down, nearly tripping as he stepped out of them. He stood in his boxers, tented with his impatient excitement, and gripped his hips.

“It’s okay, baby, I know you’re shy, I am too,” he neared and you winced as he grabbed your wrist. He tugged on your arm and you resisted until he bent your hand back painfully and you cried out. He tickled your jaw as he looked you in the eye and tutted, “it doesn’t have to be like this, alright?”

You went limp and let him pull your arms apart. Your legs slipped down and your feet dangled above the floor. He got to his knees and pushed between yours. He slowly rolled up the hem of your shirt and bent to kiss your stomach as he bared the flesh. You trembled as he forced your arms up and swooped the fabric over your head. It fluttered through the air and to the floor as he cupped your tits through your bright pink bra.

“Is this so bad?” he asked as he nuzzled your chest and pushed your tits up. 

He glided the straps down your arm and slid your bra lower so that you popped out. He nibbled at your flesh and traced your nipples with his tongue. You sat rigid and let him explore your body, too terrified to move a muscle. He reached around you and struggled with the hooks, frustrated he snapped the clasps and the band came free.

He continued to play with your chest, his fingers crawling up and down your stomach and sides. There was a genuine curiosity to his touch and it sent a chill through you. His fingertips pressed to the top of your pants and he pulled at them as his lips travelled down to your hip.

He tugged on your pants and jerked your entire body. He tore them lower as he pushed you up and you lifted yourself to let him peel away the layer. He added them to the floor and toyed with the elastic of your panties. The little bow in the front drew his attention as he pushed your legs wider and ran his nose along the cotton.

He hummed and rubbed his fingers down your crotch, pushing the fabric to your folds as he teased you through them. You inhaled sharply at the tingle it inspired and he pressed firmer against you, flicking his fingers along your bud as he noticed how it made you squirm.

He gently pulled aside the cotton and you felt his hot breath against you. You pushed on his head before he could delve into you. “Please, don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he threw your hand away from his head and bent over you, “just relax.”

He dragged his tongue along your cunt and lingered around your clit. You clenched as it sent a thrill through you and he moved his lips against you, suckling at you bud as your breaths grew raspy. You pushed yourself against the back of the couch and dug your nails into the cushion.

He slid a finger along your cunt and circled your entrance. He rubbed up and down as he kept his tongue swirling over your clit and you swallowed back as gasp as he poked inside. He felt around and added another finger, stretching you as he carefully pushed them in and out of you in time with his mouth.

He lapped you up and you closed your eyes, desperate to resist the coil winding within you. Your legs tensed against the couch and you tilted your pelvis without thinking. He sped up, the noise of his mouth and your slickness filled the silence. You let out a puff and moaned as you slapped the couch. The waves rolled over your flesh and you came into his mouth with a pathetic mewl.

He stilled his fingers as he lazily teased you with his tongue. He pulled his fingers out and sat back, the heat between your legs cooling in his absence as he licked up your juices. He watched you as he sucked his fingers and stood. Your head lolled and you edged forward on the couch. You tried to stand but he caught you and flung you back.

“We’re not done, baby,” he winked at you as he grasped the top of his boxers, “go on, lay down.”

You murmured your refusal and once more tried to get up. You slipped onto the floor and shakily crawled away as he dropped his boxers to his ankle. He grabbed you before you could get around the side and lifted you easily. He turned you and shoved you down onto your back as he lifted a leg over you.

He straddled you and again his hands roved over your body. You smacked at his fingers weakly but he easily ignored you. He kept one hand moving along your curves as he stroked himself with the other. He groaned and shook as he stroked his dick. Your eyes followed his hand and you gulped, he was thick.

He moved his knees back and pushed them up beneath your thighs as he kept a hand planted on your chest. He ripped your panties down your legs and untangled them from your feet. 

He held you down as he ran his tip along your cunt, wetting himself with your coerced arousal. You groaned and grabbed the arm of the couch above you. You tried to pull away from him.

He pushed against your entrance and you looked at him in shock. You couldn’t stop him. His eyes were set between your legs as he inhaled and slowly eased into you. He gasped as he got his tip inside you and his muscles tensed. He bit his lip as he dove further in and you gasped as he filled you inch by inch.

“Shitttt,” he moaned as he reached his limit and you whined at how full you were, “oh, baby.”

His hand slid from your chest and he gripped your hips as he pulled back and thrust. You exclaimed and he did it again, slowly as he watched himself impale you over and over. You curled your fingers against the couch arm and your feet arch as you pressed your thighs around him. He lifted your pelvis high as he angled his dick even deeper.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, “oh, baby, you’re so good. Ahh-hh-hh,” his voice fizzled as your walls clenched him and you closed your eyes as you felt the heat building. 

He moved his hand along your thigh and stretched it over your pelvis, pushing his thumb to your clit as he kept his pace. He purred as you writhed helplessly against him and you panted through the rising ecstasy.

“Please, please, please…” you chanted, unsure if you were begging him to stop or for more.

He moaned as he sped up and you sucked your lip under your teeth as you neared your peak. You quivered as your orgasm crashed into you and you let out a strangled cry. He snarled and planted his hands beside your head as he leaned over you, his hot breath tickled your face as he pounded into you.

Your legs bent around him as his pelvis rubbed against you and the friction drove you to another climax. You held onto the arm of the couch as he fucked your harder and harder. He kissed you and nibbled at your lip as he groaned and hooked an arm under to hold you close.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” he said against your cheek and you turned your head away from, “ah, here I--”

He spasmed and slammed into you. He took several long thrusts and stilled. He grunted and drew heavy breaths as he rested his weight over you. He grabbed your head and turned your head up as he pressed his forehead to yours. You kept your eyes closed as the flames slowly dwindled.

“Was that so bad?” he stroked your cheek and trailed his finger down to poke between your lips, “No, it’s what you wanted, isn’t it, baby?” he wiggled his hips and you hissed, “yeah, you want me.”

[egcdeath]

hook, line, and sinker

summary: steve was never meant to be anything more to you than a check, a basic mission. but somewhere along the way, things had veered from that.

pairing: steve rogers x spy!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, bad decisions, betrayal, unhappy ending

author's note: it has been a minute since i've posted a fic! i hope you enjoy :)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Despite the different rooms you found yourself in, the harsh morning sun was always the first thing you saw in the morning. Its bright rays would peek through the room’s shades and land right onto your face, intruding on some of the more vulnerable moments of your life.

When you finally angled your face away from the beaming star, your tired eyes fell upon the man next to you. The man you should’ve never taken things this far with. A man on the run, who you were sent after.

You sighed softly as you became a bit more conscious, and a now slightly more awake Steve threw a large arm around you, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Don’t get up yet,” he mumbled softly against your ear. You nodded and relaxed further into the slightly stiff motel mattress, mentally snapshotting and framing this moment in time. Yet another to add in the five month scrapbook of your time with Steve. Time that you recognized was quickly running out.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes once more, to listen to Steve’s soft breaths as he inhaled the scent of you. It made your heart hurt knowing that within the next week you would no longer get to be in those arms. Knowing that you would have to wake up alone in a new apartment in a new country and wait for a new mission while the news on the television droned on about the nomadic Captain America being flushed out of hiding. That Steve was no more to you than a mission. That it was your fault that you had fallen so hard and so fast.

So you treasured it while you had it. Hummed contently as Steve massaged your side before peppering little kisses against your neck. Tried to absorb the stubborn tear that threatened to fall down your face at any moment.

“We have to leave today,” he whispered against your ear, sending goosebumps up your arm. “Natasha wants to meet you.”

Your eyes shot open and your brows momentarily furrowed, something you quickly attempted to play off with a wide smile. There was no way that she wouldn’t recognize who you were— despite being declared ‘dead’ years ago, you were one of the more esteemed spies in your community. What that also meant is that you had even less time with Steve than you’d expected.

“When are we leaving? Am I gonna have to get used to another time zone?”

“Probably a few. Nat’s already with Sam, but we heard there’s something weird going on in Scotland with Wanda and Vision.”

“Should I really be getting involved with this then? It sounds like some pretty intense Avenger business if the parts of the team you still communicate with are getting together. I can just stay here ‘till you guys are ready to come back.”

Steve gave you an ‘are you serious?’ look before breaking into soft laughter, “are you serious?” You nodded wordlessly in response. “Oh, you’re serious. I promise that you’ll be fine.”

“Well, things better not get weird,” you giggled right along with him, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s face so that you could look into his eyes. You took another mental picture of him. You just hoped it wouldn’t have to be the last.

——

After you prepared yourself for the long car ride ahead of you, you slipped your second burner phone out of the hidden pocket of your suitcase, you were met with several missed messages by the man who sent you on the mission in the first place.

What is the wait?

I was referred to you for a reason

Have you even found him yet?

I’m not paying for you to sit around and go to brunch all day.

Do I need to send more money for a plane ticket or something??

No, I’ve got it. He’ll be in custody by tonight.

He better be. Or else you won’t be around to see tomorrow.

You swallowed thickly. You wouldn’t be dealing with this in the first place if you weren’t so irresponsible. And if word got out that you were falling in love with your targets, your reputation would be in shambles. You should’ve known from the start that this could never end well.

Steve stepped back into the bedroom area, a goofy smile on his face at the sight of you sprawled out on your back on top of the dingy motel bed. “You ready?” he asked, sounding chipper. You assumed he was ecstatic that you were finally going to be able to meet his friends, which made your heart hurt even more.

For a moment you considered the possibility of not going through with it. Of going along with Steve, work, prestige, and that hefty bounty be damned. You would still be living life on the run, but you’d have Steve, and everyone else on his side on your side too. You’d have some semblance of a family, and maybe someday you’d have a real family and someone to grow old with.

You chastised yourself for getting soft before sitting up, “I’m ready.”

——

You weren’t ready.

You knew you had to move quickly, the sun was going down, and you’d made a promise that needed to be fulfilled, or god knew what would happen to you.

You reached for the volume dial on the radio portion of the car, and turned down the song that Steve was currently humming along to.

“We should probably get off on the next exit that has a gas station,” you prompted, “the tank’s getting pretty low.”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to the dashboard and he nodded in agreement, “you’re right. Good catch.”

Steve pulled the car off and drove you to the nearest gas station, humming pleasantly along to the music once again. Your stomach was twisting and untwisting knots with every foot you got closer to the station, knowing exactly what you would have to do once you arrived.

Somehow, this was the most nerve wracking moment of your career. Not infiltrating secret government operations, not pulling the trigger on a mark, not even seeing the message from Tony Stark asking for you to find a way to bring Steve in.

You hurried into the main building of the station, making up an excuse on the spot to go inside. You made your way into a bathroom stall, and slipped the phone you hid away earlier out of the extra pocket in your pants.

Your hands shook as you dialed the first two numbers. You took one last deep breath as your finger hovered over the final number. You had one last chance to change your mind, to go back out to the car like nothing had happened because nothing had happened. You would drive a little longer before staying in another shitty hotel, and think about how you made the right decision as you curled up next to Steve’s warm body.

But you couldn’t. You were given this mission, and you needed to complete it.

You pressed the last nine, immediately connecting with an emergency service operator. You gave them the tip that you had seen Steve Rogers pumping gas into a black Honda Civic, and provided them with your location. With every word, your voice trembled a little more. You were grateful for your proximity to a toilet, as the lump inside of your throat threatened to force the contents of your stomach up with every passing moment.

You hung up the phone and looked at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You could barely recognize yourself now, and you weren’t sure if that was from the flagrant betrayal of your partner, or the undermining of your own personal rules for the past five months of your life.

After reflecting on what you’d done for a few minutes, you made your way back to the car. You sat down in the passenger seat, lip trembling as you thought about Steve, and the fact that you’d laid a trap for someone you had such strong feelings for.

Steve sat down just a few minutes later, a smile on his face, and snacks from the gas station in his arms. As he passed you a water bottle, he couldn’t help but notice the tears slipping down your face.

“Hey, what‘s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, dropping the rest of the items on his lap and leaning over the middle console to console you.

You began to full-on sob now, each tremble of your body filled with regret. “I’m sorry, Steve. I am so sorry,” you repeated.

“No, no, you’re okay. What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I- I had no other choice,” you wailed, “I’m sorry.”

His brows creased and he pulled away from you, betrayal evident in his features, “oh.”

You swallowed hard and shook your head.

“So this was the plan all along?” he questioned. Your lack of response seemed to answer the question for him. “Was any of this real?”

“All of it was, Steve,” you all but whimpered out.

He sighed deeply and leaned his head against the headrest, eyes squeezed shut. He seemed to be searching for the words, but couldn’t quite put together what he truly wanted to say. It was silent in the car for a moment, aside from your quiet sniffles.

“I loved you,” he finally said, hurt evident in his delivery. The admission shook you to your core. You almost couldn’t believe that the first time you were hearing it was after you had put him into such a terrible situation. After you turned in someone that you cared about for your own gain.

“I know,” you looked away from Steve in shame, the look of hurt on his face now permanently imprinted in your mind.

The sound of sirens began to fill the air. Not too long after, you noticed the unmissable blue and red of emergency vehicles approaching your own. It was time.

You unlocked your door and exited without another word. You refused to look back to the car, keeping your head down and your eyes squeezed shut, knowing that if you had to see Steve being taken away, you might never get over the permanent sick feeling you were currently in the midst of.

You walked right inside of the building, stopping in front of an aisle of chargers and finally looking back at the mess that you had made.

“What’s going on out there?” the clerk asked from behind the counter, peeking out the large glass windows.

“I don’t know,” you feigned ignorance and casually shrugged, ignoring the fact that the sight of about a dozen police and SWAT vehicles was tearing you up inside. What were they going to do to him?

You turned away from the scene once again, pretending to browse through the low quality electronics next to you. You heard some yelling, a bit of a struggle, then it was all over.

The coast was clear. Your mission was over.

You left the store without purchasing anything. You moved sluggishly as you got back inside of the now abandoned vehicle.

You started the car once again. This time without the radio playing overplayed pop songs, and without Steve happily humming along. You stared blankly ahead of you, feeling numb above anything else. Steve's words resonated in your mind, bouncing around in your head as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

Guilt was beginning to creep up on you in a way that you’d never experienced before. You immediately felt haunted by the ghosts of your memories with Steve. Of every entry in your mental scrapbook, of the final image of the hurt on Steve’s face as he confessed his true feelings for you. Of all, you were left with one terrifying thought.

You loved him too.

[its-deputy-caleb]

If you're feeling up to writing a bit of Mikey, could I please request him being an asshat to everyone and being told off by his S/O after he asks Jack if he wants to earn a dollar?

(You know the part where he says to ask Arthur about the stick up his butt?)

He's such a dickhead and I find myself telling the screen off when he does it! 😂

OR

His S/O giving him a slap and a bollocking after he kicks Cain, then they fuss over Cain and force Micah to make friends with him.

I dunno, it's up to you 😂 You could write any scenario you want, I'll still love it 😘😘

i am always up to writing for a bit of mikey (that nickname is so cute) but ngl i had no idea how to write this or put this together. I watched the clips again so i could get it accurate but i changed it bc i didn't know if u wanted a happy ending or not but i hope i delivered <33 also u asked for either and i gave u both :)

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

Clemens Point was a strange place with even stranger people. After leaving valentine in a hurry it seems the entire gang was on edge and ready to blow like a stick of dynamite. It seems having to act like upstanding heartfelt citizens to the Grays and the Braithwaites has meant everyone is that aggravated and pent up.

On more than one occasion you’d seen Sadie lose it when Pearson got to pushy with chores and it seems Abigail and John couldn’t stand to have a normal conversation for five minutes before one of them broke. It wasn’t much better with Dutch and Hosea who were constantly disagreeing on the right moves for the gang, although they were much more civil about it.

You did your best to keep out of everyone’s way, to avoid the confrontation but knowing your luck you’d end up getting involved one way or another.

You were returning to camp one sweltering hot afternoon with Sadie after you finished collecting the gang’s weekly stock from the general store. You were only half listening to the hustle around the camp as you were too busy listening to Sadie tell you all about Pearson’s dear aunt Cathy. You stepped off the wagon and headed to the back to start unloading some of the supplies when the sound of Micah’s voice could be heard talking to Jack.

“How’d ya like to earn a dollar?”

His voice with thick with malice as he hunched over the wooden table. In Micah’s hands was a silver nickel that he fiddled with between his fingers, much like you’d seen of him do with his knife. Your eyes found Jack who was almost reluctant to get anywhere near the man who you knew scared him. However, being the innocent child that he was his eyes lit up at the sight of something shiny.

“A dollar? Sure.”

You carried the heavy bag of potatoes over to Pearson’s wagon as you went back for another round of supplies but you kept the boy in the corner of your eye.

“Well…go on up to old Arthur Morgan, ask him about the pole he’s got stuck up his ass and I’ll give ya a dollar.”

Micah’s face lit up in a smirk, his accent thick and his typical evil giggle falling from his mouth. He sat back on the chair, satisfied at the mischief he’s caused.

Before you could get anywhere Jack had run off to where Arthur was sitting in his tent, reading over a letter. You placed another round of ammunition into Strauss’ wagon, dropping it hastily and running as you saw Arthur walk right up to Micah with a murderous look in his eye.

“I’ll give you a dollar if you shut your—“

Arthur didn’t get to finish his insult before you stepped in front of him with a soft hand on his shoulder. You gave him a soft smile and a nod, quietly saying to your dear friend that you’d handle this.

With that you turned with your own look of anger directed to Micah. Everyone knew you loved him but they also knew you didn’t hesitate to call him out and get him to behave when you had to.

“Micah leave the damn boy alone!”

He scoffed like he wasn’t offended you didn’t defend him and instead chose to call him out. Micah’s hands came up in his signal of fake defeat as he slowly backed away from his place at the table, acting as if he was nothing more than the innocent bystander and not the one who nearly ended up on the ground with a broken nose for starting it.

You watched as Micah lingered around the edge of the camp, his eyes trained to yours as he lit a cigarette but you ignored him. Instead you walked over to Jack, smiling softly and taking his hand to lead him to the river’s edge.

“Common, why don’t we go see if we can find any beautiful rock on the sand, hmm? I’m sure your mother would love such a beautiful gift.”

-

Of course, it wasn’t more than a few days later when you ran into trouble again with Micah. You’d spent your time ignoring him mostly, instead choosing to go hunting with Charles and Arthur, practice your throwing knives with Javier and help teach Jack to read. You knew how badly it pissed Micah off to do things without him but he needed to understand that there was a way to treat people, especially with people you considered family.

You rolled up your sleeves, using your forearm to wipe the sweat from your forehead as you picked up the knife and started cutting carrots and potatoes for tonights stew.

“Are you a good boy? Yes you are! The best boy”

Your head came up to notice bill sitting against the log by the campfire, scratching under Cain’s chin and giving the energetic dog pats along the back. You couldn’t help but smile at the new addition to the gang and how happy it made you to see Bill less stressed. It seemed that having Cain made everyone feel more caring and loving.

All except Micah.

“You’re the fool that feed’s him Marion. He ain’t nothing more than a filthy mongrel and an extra mouth to feed.”

Micah had stood from his place on the opposite side of the campfire to antagonise Bill. A frustrated noise leaves you as you slam the knife down on the wooden bench, ready to storm over there and chew Micah’s ear off. You take a step forward only for Miss Grimshaw, who was working next to you, to grab your arm and stop you before you get any further.

“There is a time and a place dear, don’t make it worse.”

Of course you knew Susan was just trying to keep another argument from happening but you push past her when you see Micah inching towards Cain who had left his spot at Bill’s feet to hide by a wagon. In a split second decision you pick the knife you’re cooking with and use it like a throwing knife to get his attention. The knife swings through the air, not getting near anyone, it wasn’t like you actually wanted to stab Micah no matter how badly he could get on your nerves and watched as it got wedged into the tree behind him.

Micah’s head shot up, his foot moving away from Cain and stared dumbfounded and shocked, unused to seeing you so skilfully throw a knife but your practices paid off. You walked right into his personal space, taping your finger against his chest.

“Don’t. You. Dare”

Micah’s first response was to try and sweet-talk his way out of it like he always does but you were in no mood to deal with his slyness.

“Dare to do what sweetheart? Common now… weren’t gonna do nothin—“

Your hand came to give Micah a crisp slap across the cheek, apart of you was shocked that you’d even do such a thing but the other half of you was furious.

“Don’t underestimate for a minute that I won’t dump you right now and throw you out of camp Micah. I’m not some stranger you can sweet-talk when you get in trouble. I swear, if I see you go anywhere near Cain the knife isn’t going to hit the tree next time.”

Micah’s eyebrows shoot up in shock as you lecture him in front of almost the entire gang. Even Dutch put his book down when he heard your slap. He was lost for words, truely, having now other thought as he watched you walk away back to preparing tonights stew. He didn’t move from his place until he heard you whistle for Cain to sit by your feet, where he went and meandered off into the forest to give you space. All he knew was that he must have fucked up bad if you threatened to leave him.

-

A few hours later you’d managed to calm down, watching the sunset after Ms Grimshaw gave you the rest of the night off to relax at how pent up you were. Now sitting here you couldn’t help but feel like you may have over reacted but Micah had pushed your buttons one too many times and if Micah was going to listen to anyone it would be you. You let out a soft but hearty sigh as the tension and stress from your shoulders left with your breath. Your body relaxed against the tree and you watched the sun gently dip below the horizon.

It was well and truely dark before you heard the rustling of grass and the thud of someone sitting next to you. You thought it may have been Arthur coming to check on you but that thought died when arms wrapped around your waist and you felt Micah rest his chin on your shoulder, his stringy hair tickling your face at the gentle breeze.

“…M’ sorry…”

A very quiet and forced apology was pulled from Micah as he cuddled into you, mumbling it into your shoulder at the pain of actually having to apologise.

“Sorry won’t cut it Micah. You have to stop treating people that I care about— people that are family better.”

Micah sighs, the defeated, tired one that shows he’s willing to listen because no matter how badly he stirs up trouble, the thought of losing you is enough to have him turn his mind around.

“I know…gonna make it up to ya I promise.”

A soft and very cautious kiss is placed on your shoulder with Micah knowing he’s still not forgiven by you yet.

“You’re damn well gonna make it up to me. Firstly you’re apologising to Jack first thing tomorrow and secondly you need to pull your weight for this gang— and no I’m not talking about robbing another coach. To start you can sit on guard duty with me and you can wash my clothes.”

“I’ll just buy you new clothes”

You give Micah a death glare as you tilt your head to look at him. Instantly his teasing smirk leaves and his arms come to wrap tighter around your body, resting his hands on your stomach and intertwining your fingers.

“Alright, alright… guard duty ain’t so bad.”

You sit together for a while in a comfortable silence. All the energy from today had left you and you no longer had it in you to keep arguing. You’d hold Micah to his promise to do better but for now you leant back into his embrace and rested your head against his.

“Can I at least sleep in the tent tonight?”

You smiled softly as you hummed in contemplation just to tease him. Micah hadn’t come to sleep in your shared tent since the day he messed with Jack and both of you had missed each other despite the frustration and anger you had.

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

Micah thinks you’ve said no, panicking internally but is stopped when you turn your head and place a soft kiss to his cheek over the mark from where you’d slapped him not so long ago. It wasn’t the kiss that he wanted but he still needed to make it up to you before you gave him what he wanted.

You reached a soft hand up behind you, cradling his head and rubbing your thumb over his sore cheek.

“Is your cheek okay?”

Micah let out a gravelly noise, deep from his chest as he leaned into your hand.

“Ain’t gotta worry sweetheart, I’ve survived much worse”

You don’t get to reply when a tentative and cautious Cain makes his way over to the two of you. You pat your leg and he curls up beside you with his head resting on your leg and his tail thumbing, relaxed and happy.

Micah on the other hand was not relaxed or happy as he tensed up and moved away from the dog and you. If it wasn’t for your hand holding the back of his head he probably would’ve jumped away.

“Micah Cain isn’t going to hurt you, he just wants attention like you. See? No need to be afraid.”

To prove your point you reach a hand out and gently brush over his short, grey fur, watching as he perks up.

“I ain’t afraid!”

You would’ve believed him if you didn’t catch the waver in his voice but you knew. You knew after seeing him be spooked by the animal more than once around camp.

The hand that was still intertwined with his gently guided his hand pat Cain, letting him slowly get comfortable to him.

It took some time but finally Micah had gotten used to Cain enough to realise he was clearly not a threat. At some point Cain had moved over to Micah’s side, resting beside him as the night became later.

A yawn left you and you slowly sank into Micah’s embrace, your eyelids falling shut as you dozed, clearly exhausted.

Holding Micah to his promise was a job for tomorrow, but for now you let yourself fall asleep in his arms, the tent be damned.

[writingsoftheghost]

Oblivious

Analogince get together story

Logan and Roman had been together for awhile, and they loved their relationship. But...when Virgil started joining the group more and more, the pair couldn’t help but let their attention wander.

It’s not that they loved each other any less, they just...both liked Virgil too. Roman felt bad about it, that is until Logan brought it up.

“I’m sorry!” Roman cries, “I didn’t mean to-”

Logan holds up a hand, “I’m not angry, Roman. Quite the opposite, actually, I’ve also found myself”-he coughs slightly, a red tint dusting across his cheeks- “Captivated by Virgil.”

Roman grins, “Really?”

“Yes, I have to say I find him quite endearing. Do you think it’s at all possible for him to engage in a romantic relationship with us?” He cocks his head to the side, a thoughtful scowl on his face.

Roman nods excitedly, “Oh, I think it’s possible.”

***

Virgil was sitting on the couch, when Roman decided to strike first.

“Hey, Hot Topic.” Roman plops down next to Virgil on the couch, closer than he’d ever sat before.

Virgil looks up from his phone for a second rolling his eyes slightly, “Aw, you think I’m hot.” 

“Mm-hmm,” Roman nods. Virgil nearly chokes. “What are you up to?” The prince continues smoothly.

“I...um-nothing?” The anxious side answers. 

“Well, that doesn’t sound very fun,” Roman purses his lips in a half pout, “What do you say we watch a movie?

Virgil shrugs, beginning to regain his composure, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Roman nods, he looks at Virgil for way too long and the anxious side can feel his face heating up again, “Why don’t you choose a movie?”

Virgil shrugs, “You can pick, we should invite Logan, though.” He’s hoping he doesn’t come across as desperate as he actually is. He knows bringing the prince’s boyfriend into the mix would take most attention away from him.

“That’s a lovely idea, I’m sure he’d love to join us.” Roman disappears for a brief period of time, returning with a smiling Logan.

“Hello, Virgil. How are you?” He smiles at Virgil warmly. 

“Good. Do you want to pick the movie?”

Logan hums, “Roman and I would rather have you pick.”

Virgil looks at them both strangely, but he picks out a movie, nonetheless.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Virgil notices both Roman and Logan glancing over at him periodically.

He tugs at his sleeves anxiously, had he done something wrong? They were acting weird. 

He wanted to leave the room now, it felt too tense and it was making it hard to focus on the movie.

He makes a small show out of glancing at the clock, “Oh, I should probably get to bed...” He glances at them, hoping he sounds convincing. His heart drops when he sees Logan’s brow furrow.

“You don’t usually go to bed this early, is everything alright?

Virgil tries to mask the massive breath he sucks in, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t sleep great last night. I’m gonna try to make up for it tonight.”

Logan’s frown deepens and Roman’s face falls too, nevertheless they let him go.

“Goodnight, Vee,” Roman calls up the stairs, “See you tomorrow.”

The couple turn to each other as soon as they hear the door to Virgil’s room shut.

Time for plan B.

*****

Logan packs a simple lunch pack, he smiles as he makes Virgil’s favorite finger foods. This plan was much more practical, he told himself.

Roman has left to ask Virgil to “hang out” for the day, Logan hopes he’d be able to convince him, he seemed uneasy the other night during their movie. Roman and Logan spent the last day coming up with this plan, as simple as it was, they thought it would work, Virgil preferred things to be simple after all. He and Logan were alike in that regard.

Logan smiles softly at the thought, however, he was quickly pulled back to reality by the sound of Virgil and Roman approaching.

“Im sure you and Logan would have more fun without me,” Virgil was saying.

“Nonsense, Logan and I both wish for you to join us.”

“Unless you really don’t want to,” Logan interrupts the pair as he steps into the living room.

“I...” Virgil’s eyes fall on the basket of food, “What did you two have planned?”

“We were just gonna go have a quiet lunch in the imagination,” Logan explains.

“And you two,” Virgil looks between the couple, confused, “Want me to come with you?”

Logan nods, “We would greatly appreciate your company.”

Virgil takes a deep breath, “Okay, I guess, as long as you’re both sure.” He glances at both of them, searching for any hint of malice or dislike, he felt bad about ruining their alone time, why would they want him to join them?

Roman smiles at him softly, “It’ll be fun, Virgil. The fresh air will be good for you.”

Virgil shrugs, “I don’t need fresh air, Princey.”

Logan grabs their lunch and Roman’s hand, “Are you both ready to go?”

Roman nods enthusiastically, “Been ready for hours! You take forever to make food!”

Logan rolls his eyes, “I like things to be done well, Roman, sometimes that takes a little extra time.”

Roman huffs, “You need anything before we leave, Virge?”

Virgil shrugs, “I don’t know, do I need to bring anything?”

“I wouldn’t think so, I’ve packed and prepared for just about everything that we’d need,” Logan assures.

“Okay,” Virgil mumbles, “‘Guess Im ready.”

“Wonderful!” Before Logan can stop him Roman reaches out and grabs Virgil’s hand.

Virgil flinches, but doesn’t pull away fully, he tries not to let Roman see the look of shock and confusion on his face.

Roman loosens his grip on Virgil’s hand slightly, worried he may have upset him, but then Virgil gives a soft squeeze and then, just like that, they’re holding hands, and Roman is leading the way to the imagination with the biggest smile he thinks he’s ever had.

Logan and Roman had already scouted the area they were going to eat at, a nice open field, perfect for easing a certain side’s parano-vigilance. The field contained a total of six trees, so it wasn’t like there could be anything lurking in the shadows.

Logan laid out a soft blanket, one with a texture that they knew Virgil liked, under the biggest tree.

Virgil sat himself on the edge of the blanket furthest from Logan and Roman. It was a big enough blanket for the distance to be noticeable, it made Logan worry that Virgil didn’t want to be there with them.

He had expected Virgil to be a little suspicious, even a little distant, at least at first, Logan knew this would be strange to him, he doubted the socially distant trait had ever been courted before.

“Virgil?” He asks in a calm tone, “Would you like some juice?” He’d been careful to avoid caffeine, knowing it could potentially highten Virgil’s anxiety.

Virgil shrugs, “I guess.”

Logan takes out the bottle of grape juice and the glasses he’d packed carefully earlier that day. When he offers Virgil a glass, he realizes that either he will have to move, or Virgil will have to move, go bridge the distance across the blanket.

Virgil makes the decision rather quickly, darting over and taking the glass from Logan, “Thank you.” He starts to shuffle back to his corner when Roman stops him.

“Why don’t you sit in the middle, Vee? That way you can reach the food?”

Virgil looks to the ground, “Didn’t want to invade your space.”

Logan frowns when he notices the hesitancy in the other’s voice, as if he isn’t sure he’s wanted. Which Logan couldn’t help but groan internally at, they’d invited him and he still feels like an intruder, anxiety truly was devoid of any logic.

“Virgil,” he holds out his hand towards the other in invitation, “You know we want you here, don’t you?”

Virgil won’t look at him, Logan sighs, “You’re more than welcome, here. We invited you, why would we invite you if we wanted you to just sit by yourself quietly? Hm?”

Virgil shrugs, “Dunno,” he mumbles.

“Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable, stormcloud?” Roman interjects in a gentle tone, he’s aware of the tension in the way Virgil’s sitting now.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says shakily, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s alright,” Roman whispers, “You wanna go back? I’m sorry we pressured you to come.”

Virgil shakes his head firmly, “I wanna stay, I just…don’t want to be in the way. It kinda feels like I’m intruding on a date, why was I the only person you invited? You know Patton loves outdoor lunches.”

“We know, Virgil, we just…” Logan looks at Roman, Roman gives a small head shake and Logan sighs, “We just wanted to spend time with you. We didn’t mean to make you feel awkward, we’re sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I don’t know why I’m being so weird about it, but,” and he slowly slides his hand into Logan’s open one on the blanket, “I think I’ll be okay, now.”

“Are you sure? It really isn’t a problem if you want to go home?” Roman assures.

Virgil nods his head, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Logan smiles and squeezes his hand softly, they all know Virgil likes physical reassurance sometimes, and they’re glad he’s started accepting, and even asking for it on occasion. Patton has to remind himself constantly that Virgil has to be the one to initiate it, however.

Roman pulls out plates and food from the pack, Virgil tries to give Logan back his hand, but he’s quickly stopped, “Please don’t let go until you’re ready, okay?” Logan smiles at him, “My right hand is fully capable of doing this alone, I promise.”

Roman hands him a plate and asks Virgil what he’d like.

They eat comfortably, Virgil relaxes enough to let go of Logan’s hand, but moves closer to him and Roman anyway. Virgil talks about Halloween coming up and Logan tells him that he’s already put horror movies into the schedule for that month.

When they finish their food they continue to sit there and talk quietly. A soft breeze blowing through the field making the place even more peaceful. They were all enjoying a moment of quiet when…

Hic!

Roman sits up and stares at a blushing Virgil in shock.

The emo side ducks his head, “Shut up, Pri-hic!-ncey,” he says in an attempt at a growl.

Roman smirks, “Is there a problem, Virgil? You seem to be having a bit of trouble.”

Logan giggles, “You don’t need to be embarrassed about the hiccups, Virgil. Everyone gets them.”

“I don’t—hic—have the hiccups!” He grumbles.

Roman laughs and Logan laughs, Virgil glares at them both for a moment, but he can’t hold it for very long before he’s laughing too.

“Stop laughing at me!” He shouts between giggles.

“I don’t think,” Roman wheezes, “I’ve ever seen you hiccup before.”

“Shut—hic—up!” Virgil shoves him off the blanket with a laugh.

Roman sits back on the blanket, “Gosh, you’re adorable.”

Virgil and Logan both freeze, Virgil glancing nervously at Logan, Logan and Roman both looking at him, horrified at the thought that they’d just blown it.

“I—uh—”Virgil is still staring at Logan, a look of fear in his voice. Virgil looks at him, the face of logic not giving him any ideas as to what he’s supposed to do. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Logan says softly.

Roman sucks in a harsh breath, understanding the apology as a gentle rejection.

They sit in awkward silence for an eternity.

“Perhaps it’s…time we head back?” Logan suggests in a quiet tone.

Virgil’s heart drops as he decidedly believes Logan hates him now. “Yeah-Yeah, sure.”

They walk back in silence. Virgil stuffs his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. Roman and Logan keep glancing at him, both taking his silence as a sign of discomfort.

They allow him to go to his room, wincing at the sound of his door shutting softly, not even a slam.

“I ruined it,” Roman whispers sadly.

Logan shakes his head, “We still have a chance, Love.”

Roman shakes his head, “He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“He couldn’t stop looking to me,” Logan whispers back, “I didn’t know what to say, I chose a cowards way out. I fled.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Roman places a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry I messed this up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up,” Logan wraps his arms around Roman’s neck and kisses a tear sliding down his cheek. “We should give him some space, we can check back in tomorrow.”

Roman nods and allows Logan to lead him to bed, not really believing any of the logical side’s attempts to reassure him.

*****

Virgil stays in his room through breakfast. Roman liked him. He should be happy! He likes Roman! But…he likes Logan too, and he’d never wanted to get between them like this.

Logan told him it was alright, Virgil took that to mean that he didn’t really blame him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. He can only imagine the fight he and Roman probably had last night.

Virgil’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about the two of them breaking up.

He didn’t know what he did to ever catch Creativity’s attention but he wished he hadn’t done it. He felt truly awful for doing this to them.

“Kiddo,” there’s a knock at his bedroom door, “You need to eat lunch, it’s almost 1:30.” Patton sounds worried, Virgil hasn’t locked himself in his room like this since he ducked out.

“I’m not hungry, Pat. I’ll eat later.”

Patton frowns, “Virge?” He asks hesitantly. “Is everything okay? You know you can talk to me if you need to?”

“I’m fine, Pops.”

Patton isn’t convinced, “Hey…you don’t have to talk about it, but if you don’t want to be by yourself you can come to my room? Might help to be somewhere else for awhile?”

Virgil sighs, “you sure?”

“Of course.”

Virgil opens the door and Patton gives him a sad smile, “come on, I’ll get you something to eat and some tea.”

Virgil nods, “Thank you.”

Patton sits down on his bed next to Virgil, passing him a sandwich and some chips.

“I messed up,” Virgil whispers as he takes a chip.

Patton looks at him in surprise, “What did you mess up, Virge?”

“Logan and Roman, I messed up their relationship. They’re fighting and it’s all my fault.”

Patton scoots closer, “I didn’t know they were fighting. How is it your fault, honey?”

“I just…I don’t know why, they invited me out to lunch with them, and it…it was weird! But then it wasn’t, and it was nice, but…Roman called me adorable and I…I like him, but he’s Logan’s boyfriend and I never wanted to hurt Logan because I like him too and I just… Logan probably hates me now, and Roman and Logan might break up and it’ll be all my fault and there’s no way I can ever make it up to him!” Virgil’s breathless when he finishes. He doesn’t know when he started crying.

Patton shakes his head, he remembers when Logan and Roman told him they liked Virgil. When Logan had asked him what Virgil’s favorite foods were. How Patton made them both promise they would be patient and gentle with Virgil’s already shot nerves.

He can’t help but be a little upset with them for letting Virgil wallow in this all day. He pushes that feeling aside, and decides to help his three hopeless friends out.

“Virge, I can assure you, Roman and Lo are gonna be just fine. But I think you should go talk to them about this. I think there might’ve been a bit of a mix up.”

Virgil cocks his head, “What do you mean?”

Patton shakes his head again, “They’re not fighting, kiddo. I promise, just go talk to them.”

“But I—”

“Trust me.”

And with that Patton is nudging him towards the door and Virgil’s in the hall.

He glances worriedly back at the father figure.

“They’re in Logan’s room last I saw.” Patton shuts the door.

Virgil feels a slight sting of betrayal at having been abandoned to face the pair alone, but he approaches the door anyway.

He stands there for two and a half minutes before knocking.

“What is it?” Logan calls through the door.

“It’s—um—it’s me, I think maybe I need to—”

The door swings open, “Virgil?”

The logical side looks as if he hasn’t slept well, Roman is standing behind him in a similar state. Virgil can just barely see the whiteboard on the back wall covered in incomprehensible diagrams and cluster graphs.

“Hey…” he gives a weird little half wave for some reason he doesn’t understand.

“Are you…alright?” Roman asks hesitantly.

“Me?” Virgil asks in confusion, “Are you two okay?”

Logan nods, “We’re dreadfully sorry, we didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that, we—”

“I got carried away, Virgil. I’m sorry,” Roman cuts Logan off.

“You couldn’t help yourself, I shouldn’t have chosen such an intimate activity for us,” Logan defends his boyfriend.

“No, this is my fault. I’m the one that put the pressure on him.”

“Love, I should’ve planned for this. I know you can’t help yourself when it comes to your feelings.”

“You can’t plan for everything. I should’ve—”

“Hold on a second!” Virgil interrupts, “Did I miss something? What are you two arguing over?”

“It doesn’t matter, Virgil,” Logan composes himself, “We both apologize for making you uncomfortable. It was not our intention, regardless, we understand if you do not wish to go on anymore dates with us”

Virgil stares at him in complete in total confusion. “Dates?”

Roman’s eyes widen, “Surely you’re aware of what we’ve been doing. We took you to a romantic lunch! We’ve been flirting with you constantly! What did you think was happening?”

Virgil looks at Logan, the logical side gives a small smile and a nod. “I thought,” Virgil starts, “I don’t know, I guess I just thought we were hanging out, and then I guess I thought Roman was hitting on me. I didn’t realize Logan was.”

“So that’s why you acted so upset,” Roman mumbles.

“Ah, I see. My advances are less…direct,” Logan explains sheepishly.

Virgil nods, “Yeah I got that now, but I thought…that I’d ruined your relationship! That I’d broken you up or something! Oh my god I hardly slept at all last night!”

Logan winces sympathetically, “We didn’t either, but we’re very sorry for distressing you.”

“It’s fine,” Virgil shrugs it off. “But you guys…both of you…want to date me?”

“Of course, if you’d allow us,” Logan smiles, “We both find you quite endearing. Would you be willing to let us continue to romance you?”

“Logan, you make it sound so formal,” roman laughs, but he has an excited gleam in his eye, “You wanna date us, Virgil? You can say no, it’s okay, but if the answer is yes we’d both be delighted to have you as our boyfriend.”

Virgil can’t help it, he’s skeptical, this feels too much like something he’d dream up, he looks both of them in the face, hunting for any sign of a joke or a lie. There isn’t any, just encouraging smiles.

“Yeah, I’d…I’d like that a whole lot.”

He’s quickly wrapped in two pairs of arms, happy laughter filling his ears.

—————

@idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @cute-and-angsty-princess @emo--nightmaree @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @katlikethesword @tranquil-space-ninja @book-limerence

[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (part 3)

Warnings - not yet 😉

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You'd accepted the role - it was only for a week, and you were there anyway. Clara would be killed off at the end of this week, sending Tommy into a crazy spiral that would last the whole series. Your class were so excited to see you in costume performing alongside the rest of the cast, they were thrilled for you. You kept playing it down, it was no more than a glorified 'extra' role, just there to set the story for the rest of the series - your actual screen time would be no more than two episodes.

You were catching up with Liane on Wednesday lunchtime over a sandwich and latte, she was grilling you about how your scenes with Cillian.

"You know, he's not at all what I expected. He's so down to earth and lovely. Really sweet. Patient too - thankfully. Hard not to forget your lines when you've got those eyes staring at you!"

"Is it not as awkward as you thought then?"

"Well he got rid of any awkwardness on Monday morning! His trick worked - we've been great ever since."

Your phone buzzed on the table and Liane couldn't help but notice.

"You exchanged numbers already?" She said, eyebrow raised.

"It's not like that - he used my phone to find his yesterday, left it in his trailer."

"You are not that naive Y/n... That's the oldest trick in the book!"

"What is?"

"The old 'lost my phone, can I ring it from yours' trick! He just wanted your number!"

"What if I did?" Cillian's suddenly appeared seemingly out of nowhere, plonking himself down next to you making you jump.

"Jesus Cillian, don't do that..." You laughed, clutching your chest.

"Sorry, I did text to say I was behind you in line but you were too busy discussing my ulterior motives for getting your phone number," he grinned, winking at Liane who was redder than a tomato.

"I um... Yeah I have to go do that.. thing.. I'll see you later y/n," she made her exit, and you shook your head, trying not to laugh.

"Would it have been so bad if she was right?" He leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.

"Was she?"

"No, I actually did lose my phone.. but quite a clever trick isn't it. And I do have your phone number now." His eyes were on yours again, you swore he knew the effect it had on you.

"You do indeed. What exactly do you intend to do with it?"

"Well I plan to call you later, some of the cast have arranged a drink in the hotel tonight. See if you wanted to join us?"

"Me? I'm hardly a cast member Cillian, I'm only here for a week?"

"You're as important to this show as I am y/n - without your character, Tommy's spiral into madness doesn't make sense. You're going to be a real focus for this series."

You pondered it for a few minutes. You didn't have plans that evening, just heading back to your own hotel and reading a book, nothing too exciting..

"Okay I'll come for one drink. Just one though, it's an early start tomorrow."

"Great! I'll text you later with the details?" You nodded and he headed back over to the canteen, collecting his coffee and out the door.

Your scenes done, you were in your hotel room getting ready. Liane was on her bed reading, giggling like a schoolgirl as you straightened your hair.

"Will you stop - it's a quiet drink with all the cast!"

"Mhmm. Yep. I'm sure you'll have a lovely time! I won't wait up, don't worry!" You threw a cushion at her, just making her laugh even more at you.

"Right, my taxi's outside. How do I look?" You stood up in your black jeans and flowing pale tan shirt, finished with black boots.

"Looking hot mama! His eyes are gonna be on stalks when you walk in!"

"Oh shut up, will you!" You laughed, rolling your eyes, heading out the door.

You walked into the hotel, and as promised Cillian was waiting in the lobby for you.

"You look amazing y/n," he kissed your cheek and offered you his arm to loop into. Nodding at the bouncer on the door, he led you through into the bar. The other cast and crew were already inside, smiling and laughing as they chatted about the first few days of filming.

"What's your poison?" He asked.

"Vodka and lemonade please." You got your drinks and made your way over to Anto, who was currently entertaining Sophie and Helen with dodgy Dad jokes. You were cringing before you'd even arrived. He saw you and instantly threw his arms around you.

"I thought you said you weren't coming!" He asked.

"She had a better offer, Anto!" Sophie giggled looking at Cillian, who's cheeks had flushed a little at her comment.

"Oh now, I see how it is, my eyes not blue enough for you?" Anto laughed.

"Well no.. they're brown?" You smirked, making Cillian laugh.

You spent an hour chatting with Sophie and Natasha, filling they were telling you how well your students were going and how much they enjoyed having them all onset. Natasha went to the bar to get a round in when Sophie nudged you.

"Don't look round, keep looking at me."

"Okay..."

"He hasn't taken his eyes off you. Not once y/n. Keeps glancing at you, he thinks I can't see him."

"Who?"

"Cillian! He's talking to Paul at the bar, but he's looking over at you."

"Come in, you're not serious?" She nodded. You blushed again, feeling a fluttery feeling in your stomach.

"He clearly fancies you y/n."

"Yeah, a multi millionaire Hollywood actor fancies some random university professor from Stafford? Come on Sophie, even I'm not that daft! I'm going outside for a smoke, you coming?" She shook her head, and you headed out the side door into the empty smoking area. Taking out your phone, you typed a quick text to Liane telling her you'd be back in an hour.

"You got a spare one of those?" Cillian's voice behind you startled you.

"I thought you were a non-smoker?" You handed him your packet and he took one, you lit it for him.

"Social smoker." He leaned against the wall next to you, blowing the smoke away. There was a silence between you. All you could think about was how the hell you'd ended up here in a smokers area with Cillian Murphy. The little fangirl inside you was having a hissy fit. The grown woman in you was telling you to stop being so damn stupid.

"You're a damn fine actress y/n." You turned to him and scoffed.

"Seriously. Too good for that dick of a director. Purely intimidated by you, that's why he didn't hire you."

"I'm intimidating, am I?"

"A little. In a good way. A very good way," he raised an eyebrow. Was he flirting?

"And what is it that's so intimidating, exactly?" He stubbed the cigarette out in the wall mounted ashtray and turned to face you properly.

"We've spent a lot of time together these last few days. You know your own mind. You're intelligent, confident, have just the right level of sass, attractive. It's a deadly combination y/n."

"Is that so?" Did he just get closer? You were rooted to the spot, you were sure he was closer than he was before...

"That is so. Qualities like that don't come around very often. He was mad to not hire you, and even more tapped to blacklist you. I'd star opposite you any day of the week."

"Would you really?"

"Yeah. The movies I could make with you..." he winked, before heading back inside leaving you to wonder what he meant. Was he flirting with you? You shook your head, finishing your own cigarette. If he was, clearly just after a quick fuck with a costar.. but he wasn't like that, was he?

[phoenixes-and-wizards]

tua headcanon (vanya’s first concert after the apocalypse):

despite being an amazing violinist, vanya’s still a bit shy about performing in front of her family, mostly because--aside from five--she’s never done it before and partly because the last time she did it, she sucked the life out of four of them with energy tentacles and caused the end of the world. you know--just musician things

when she does land a solo, she takes extra care not to tell a single soul, only practicing when they’re nowhere nearby and never the same passage twice so they don’t realize just why she’s been rehearsing so much lately

they find out anyway when one day, diego does some small-time vigilantism in an alley behind the icarus theater and finds a poster advertising VANYA HARGREEVES PERFORMS SIBELIUS, MAY 21ST AT 8PM

he tells luther who tells allison who tells klaus who tells five and ben. they don’t breathe a single word of it to vanya, and all of them spend the next twenty minutes convincing the ticket seller to spare six tickets, despite the show having sold out a month ago

luther folds as soon as the man tells him “no" so diego plucks the phone from his fingers and says "you're hopeless" in an exasperatedly fond tone

ben practically has to wrestle the phone away from diego and five once it’s clear their "polite" bargaining won’t work 

”he’s not gonna listen to you if you keep threatening to chop his fingers off!!!!!” “oH YEAH???? THEN I’M GONNA MAKE HIM--GIMME THAT PHONE BENJAMIN I’M NOT DONE DONT YOU DARE LET THAT TENTACLE COME ANYWHERE NEAR ME”

in the end, allison saves the day, as always. no rumoring, of course; just plain “hi, i’m allison hargreeves and--yes, i’m the lawyer in that movie, of course i’ll sign an autograph for you after the show. could we pick up our tickets tomorrow? four o’clock? that’d be great, jim. oh, can i call you jim? excellent.” 

she walks away with a cocky smirk while diego mutters “show-off” under his breath, but he says it fondly enough that she lets it slide

ben spends the week leading up to the concert reading about sibelius’ life and the inspiration for his only violin concerto. on some afternoons, five joins him, being the only other member of the family who actually listens to classical music

diego starts leaving dinner in the kitchen for vanya on the nights when she has to rehearse with her orchestra, and klaus drags ben to the mall one day to look for something that’ll help with vanya’s peeling calluses

luther brushes up on classical concert etiquette, making extra sure to tell his siblings not to clap after a movement ends and to give their sister a standing ovation

(”as if we wouldn’t have already. she’s brilliant,” five assures him)

allison takes them all shopping for suits and to her surprise, none of them grumble because they’re all doing it for vanya and they’ve got thirty-two years of missed concerts and recitals to make up for

on the day itself, ben ‘accidentally’ makes too much bacon and eggs and blueberry pancakes, and he loads most of it onto vanya’s plate so she’ll have enough energy to power through all three movements of her concerto tonight. vanya’s so nervous that she doesn’t even notice

when she leaves around noon, violin case on her shoulders, they all file into allison’s room and start getting changed

vanya’s nervous as fuck of course, and fifteen minutes before she goes on, she starts regretting the fact that she never told them, it would’ve been nice to have familiar faces in the audience, but hey she’s here now and she’ll simply play the best she can because damn it she’s earned it and worked too hard on this entire thing for her to chicken out now

when she steps out, she actually thinks she’s seeing things when she spots all six of her siblings sitting in the front row, wearing the largest shit-eating grins she’s ever seen in her life

out of the corner for her eye, she sees klaus giving her two thumbs-up and mouthing “you got this” as she tunes, and it’s more than enough to make her relax completely

vanya takes a deep breath, and as soon as she starts with that familiar “sol-la-re” motif, the entire audience--her family included--is captivated 

halfway through the first movement’s cadenza, ben turns to luther and whispers “how come we never went before? she’s incredible” and five’s face hardens when he replies with “because dad never let us”

diego actually sheds a tear during the second movement; allison subtly passes him a tissue, her own dark eyes damp with emotion

they’re all at the edge of their seats when vanya starts the third movement, it’s brisk tempo and syncopation more than enough to catch their attention

there’s a brief moment where vanya drops her bow and--to an outside viewer--miraculously catches it right before it falls, but her siblings see the way her eyes pulse white for a second as she levitates the bow back into her hand and resumes playing as if nothing happened, and they all trade knowing smiles afterwards

when she finally plays the final note, the audience simply lets it ring throughout the hall for a few seconds before they’re on their feet

even so, she can hear her family’s voices above the din and they look so proud and allison is crying happy tears, diego shouting “brava! bravissima!” over and over, and her other brothers all have matching grins on their faces, and oh gosh, she’s really done it, hasn’t she

they meet her in the lobby with tons of bear hugs, the largest sunflower bouquet she’s ever seen, and half-meant scolding about “why the heck didn’t you invite us, vanny? you were amazing!!!” and while five and diego argue about who gets to carry her case on the way to griddy’s, ben simply rolls his eyes and plops it onto his back

halfway to the donut shop, luther presses close to her and gives her a one-armed hug that’s slightly awkward because they’re both walking and he’s obviously the size of a house compared to her, but vanya leans into him all the same, grateful for his quiet comfort. he keeps his arm around her all the way to the shop and only lets go when klaus drags him away to look for a booth that can accomodate all seven of them

they buy her all the donuts she wants and tell her which parts of her concerto they loved best, and vanya just feels so warm, down to the tips of her toes, and it’s all because she has never felt this much love in her life before

she’s getting ready for bed that night when diego knocks on her door and pokes his head in long enough to say “i’m proud of you, you know? like really, really proud” and gives her a long hug to boot

after that day, her siblings start sitting in whichever room she’s practicing in to hear her play, and the attention is overwhelming at first, but eventually, vanya just gets used to ben reading while she slogs over tchaikovsky or luther munching on a bowl of cereal as she works on her etudes

she invites them to every concert from then on, and vanya makes something of a ritual out of plucking petals from the bouquets she receives afterwards, pressing them into a notebook and running her fingers over every single one before a show to calm her down

[alreadyblondenow]

A demon or an angel? 

▸ Taeyong x female!reader  ▸ 1,836k words ▸ SMUT, SMUT, FLUFF ▸ Pure fiction, Slight exhibitionism, BDSM themes (I tried, it’s my first time), everything is done with consent + safe word, blindfold, ICE PLAY, tying of both arms and legs, smacking, unprotected sex, overstimulating, teasing, swearing, mentions of alcohol, Taeyong drinking your tequila shot hehe.  ▸ For Neo Smut Collective’s drabble festival, Wet & Wild

Everything was not planned.

You just wanted to have a good time after a long day at work and go home drunk then plan on hating yourself the next day because you had too much alcohol. But no. Everything you planned on doing was completely forgotten when you met a demon that looked like an angel by the bar who shamelessly drank your tequila shot.

“Excuse me,” you said to him with a flirty smile, not even annoyed at what he did.

“You go here often?” he came closer to you and put his elbow on the bar counter and placed his hand on your lower back to keep you away from strangers who move recklessly.

“Just for tonight” you smiled. Giving him a hint that you’re flirting back.

“I tell you this,” he clears his throat and gave you a small smile, “try not to get drunk tonight so you won’t get a bitch headache tomorrow and spend your day with me, headache-free” he winked after he lay down his offer.

“I don’t even know your name stranger,” you giggled and fixed his tie, only to pull him closer to you and the smell of expensive perfume explains it all. This gentleman right here is not just anyone.  

“Oh you’ll know my name, in fact, you will get to moan my name if you just do what you’re told” his breath tickles your neck and immediately made your legs weak. Shamelessly, he left kisses on your neck and collar bones to make you say ‘yes’ and to show you what lies ahead if you agree.

“I’ll say yes if you give me a ride home”

“Then it’s settled. Right this way, please”

And just before he takes you home, the heat of the moment did not stop you two from making out at the back of his car while his driver pretends like he’s not hearing anything. You invited him to your house and fuck there, but he declined you like the gentleman that he is and told you that he had been drinking way before you arrived at the bar, “I can’t fuck you good if I’m tipsy but don’t worry-“ he pulled down the collar of your blouse, just enough to expose chest and cleavage to him so he can kiss you there and leave a mark. “you will enjoy everything that I will do to you tomorrow”

On the next day, he picked you up with a different car but this time he’s the one driving. He greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a proper hug, nothing too lustful just a decent greeting to start your day right. And while he was driving, he holds your hand and kisses it whenever he can. Making you smile and your heart flutter so you know his intentions.

“Are you going to take me to a fancy hotel? Fuck me in your private jet? Yacht?”

What you just said made him laugh. Oh his smile makes him even more handsome, you thought. “No and no. Though, I can. But I prefer bringing you to my house, sounds good? Unless you prefer my private jet or bask under this afternoon sun, I can make it happen”

His way of flexing his riches was amusing that you two just laughed and decided that his house is the best destination. Though he promised to fly you next time and have a short vacation with him if today goes well.

When you arrived at his house, you weren’t surprised to see a huge house because you quite expected it already. It was quiet and spacious but you didn’t have enough time to snoop around for he is quick to drag you towards his room and show how hungry he is for you.

You just met last night but obviously, he misses you already and you can tell it by the way he kisses you and touch you.

“What’s the name I’m going to moan today?” you reminded him of what he owes you.

“Taeyong,” he started to undress you, “baby, honey, babe, whatever you want,” he smacks your ass deliciously and both landed on his king-sized bed. Both hands are busy undressing each other and caressing each other’s bodies. And when you’re left with only your matching lacy underwear, especially for him, he stopped you from unhooking your bra and made you lie comfortably in bed as he pulls away from your lips.

He reached on his bedside table and showed you a black Louis Vuitton bandeau, “Do you trust me?” you nod your head ‘yes’, “What if I tie you? Do I still have your consent?” he waited for your answer while he scans your body and feeds his eyes, of course, you said ‘yes’. “Your safe word is rose” he says and kissed your temple before he covers your eyes and takes your breath away by pushing you on the mattress without a warning, kissing your body with want as he removes your bra and puts both your arms above you to tie them securely. By this time you feel very excited and you just can’t wait for him to make his next move.

But be careful what you wish for. Because you didn’t expect him to spread your legs wide and tie them both, right after he removes your lacy panties. Now you’re left with nothing.

For a moment, he stepped out of the bed to fully undress and feel him come back when the mattress dipped on your side. Still, he isn’t making a move but you hear sounds of water and ice from where the bedside table is located and-

“Mmm. Fuck! That’s cold, ahhh” you moaned deliciously and tried to fold your legs but you really couldn’t. You moved your body to ease the sensitivity but nothing is working, so you have no choice and accepted it like a good girl he expects you to be. Up and down, and oh so slowly, Taeyong moves the ice cube on your slit while lying comfortably on his side. Gently and carefully, building the momentum and giving you the full experience of what he’s doing to you.

“Good? Just nod if you can’t talk,” he teased you with his question but you nod and let out sounds of approval to further support your answer.

“Told you you’ll enjoy it,” he says and left a kiss on your lips, just long enough to make you catch his lips and ask for more when he pulls away intentionally. “Lift your chin,” he commands and went on top of you. You thought he will finally kiss you there but no, the gentleman has something in mind. He bit the ice cube and brush it on your neck, making you shiver and moan near his ear as he wet your chest with the ice in his mouth. And when the ice melted and became small, Taeyong ran his thumb on your lips and planted a kiss… only to transfer the ice from his mouth to your mouth but not letting go of the kiss until the ice is fully melted.

“I chose the right person,” he says and gently caresses your body before running another ice cube in between your boobs.

“Nipples please” you moan out but he put his pointer finger on your lips and made you suck it.

“But since you asked so nicely,” he let out a dark chuckle and ran his thumb on your nipples, gently and carefully pinching them with his cold fingers before he finally ran the ice around your nipples. Going in slow circles and watching you part your lips and let out soft moans beneath him. You can feel that he is very hard already because his cock is poking your thigh.

He bit your left nipple before he flips you effortlessly on your stomach and ran an ice cube on your back which tickled you and made you laugh… but he wanted you to moan, not laugh. So he smacked your ass and said, “moan” very sternly that he gave you goosebumps. But all you can do is let out soft sounds and cute giggles.

“you think I’m still playing?” he asks you while spreading kisses on your nape and on your shoulders, making you shiver with his low voice alone.

And just like that, he lines his cock on your cunt and slowly pushed in, caging your body with his strong arms. “There’s the moan that I’ve been asking for,” he says when you finally let out a string of delicious moans.  

He thrust and thrust hard that you feel the impact on your body. Given that you’re on your stomach and your body is not arched, your hole is extra tight, which he loved so much and fucked you harder by the second.

There’s that devil in that at angelic form, you thought.

Taeyong smacked and smacked your ass as he fucks you until he cums, hurting you good and making your body sore.

After he cums, you were the one who needed to catch your breath not him and he noticed that. Maybe he was too rough on your first day together? So he decided to release you and untie you, kissing the red marks on your wrists and ankles to show you that he’s sorry.

“Are we done?” you asked weakly.

“Catch your breath baby, you’ll need it” he says and put you on top of him. Switching your positions effortlessly, “one of my many ways of saying ’sorry I was too rough’,” he giggles and soothes your back, “ride me, you will cum I promise” he added and kissed you on the lips but not for long. His lips traveled on your boobs as you line his cock on your cunt and slowly go down.

You moan and moan as you roll your hips and feel his tongue swirl around your nipples and his hands roam freely around your body. You feel very much appreciated by the way he lets you fuck him. “Can’t believe I’m not gonna last” you scoffed and bounced up and down his cock, putting both of you on edge and ready to reach your climax together.

“Keep doing that” he says. But you reached for his lips and kiss him as you dive together towards lust, watch him closely and see how he lost his mind when he reaches his climax.

“Ohh-“ you bit his shoulder when you finally reached your high. Closing both of your eyes tightly as you shiver on top of him and feel him shoot his cum inside you for the second time.

Unlike earlier that your body is cold because of the ice, now your both burning and sweating but shivering because of oversensitivity.

“Still good?” he asked and gently placed you down the mattress, kissing your sensitive body while pulling out and keeping you close.  

“Thank you for choosing me,” you whispered and enjoyed his warmth, “how about that second date then?” you said before closing your eyes and drifting to sleep.

[broadstbroskis]

the wedding date | morgan rielly

a/n: well first things first, i’m gonna give a shoutout to myself, because i started this fucking thing back in august and it’s finally completed (that’s right, it took me 7 months to write just under 5k, shhh, it finally came together). 

anyway, since i started this back in august, you can tell i’ve had this idea for a while. it’s morphed and changed a bit but the basic premise has stayed the same- you go home with morgan for a wedding and everyone thinks that you’re the girl he’s been dating for the last few years- so i hope you all enjoy! (also i’m sorry i suck at titles but like i’m not)

a special shoutout to these lovely people who have listened to me whine about this at any point over the last SEVEN MONTHS and some fellow mo lovers because you’re all amazing and i love you, @denis-scorianov, @brockadoodles, @danglesnipecelly, @laurenairay, @hockeyboysiguess

-----

When Morgan approaches you, with what you’ll later learn is only his first attempt to ask you something, you don’t even give him the chance, really. “Hey, what are you doing this summer?”

“Not you.” You quip back, grinning cheekily, ignoring the barks of laughter from Matthews and Marner beside him.

“Haha.” Morgan deadpans, but it’s busy that night at the bar, Saturday night after a Leafs win, and you’ve really got to get back to work now that you’ve finished serving them, so you’re already walking away from him.

The second time it happens is a Friday night, a few weeks later, when you’re out with some friends for the first time all semester. It’s late enough that you’re feeling just on the right side of tipsy, you’re drunk enough that you know you’re going to go home with the guy you shouldn’t, and you’re okay with both of those things. 

At least, tonight you are. Tomorrow morning will be a different story.

And then, Morgan stops you at the bar. “Hey.”

“Hey!” You grin back...and then it slowly fades as he just hems and haws. “What’s up?”

“I-” He blows out a frustrated groan.

Your eyebrows raise. You’ve known Morgan for years now, since his first season with Leafs had been right about when you started working at the bar for some extra cash after realizing just how expensive school was getting and grad school would be beyond that. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him at such a loss for words. “Alright, well if you can’t think of it now, get back to me later, okay?”

“Wait-” He says, so you give him a minute or two, but there’s still nothing.

“Ok, I love you, but this is my one night out before my dissertation is due later this spring.” You tell him, reaching out for a hug. “You have my number and you know where to find me.”

“Ok.” Morgan smiles a little. “Have fun tonight.” And then you slink away from him, back in the direction of your friends, ready to let loose one last time before the craziness sets in.

The night that Morgan finally gets his question out is a quiet one in the middle of the week. He settles himself into the corner, doing his best to be discrete with a hat covering his face. By the time you and your coworker get everyone settled with drinks and you make your way over to him, he’s caught the attention of one older man, who immediately walks back to his girlfriend when you arrive at Morgan’s section of the bar.

“Well finally.” He’s free of all teammates, a rarity but not unheard of, especially this late in the season. “What’s a guy gotta do to get some service around here?”

“Oh sorry!” You tease. “Did I interrupt something here? Did you want me to call that guy back up so you guys could finish up?”

He flattens you with a look. “Don’t you dare.”

You giggle, leaning down against the bar in front of him. You know how much he loves the Toronto fanbase, but as playoffs approach, the fans are becoming more vocal and more forward with their thoughts. “You want another drink?”

He looks down at his glass, contemplates for a minute, and then nods, so you return quickly with a new beer for him and then smile as you watch him take a large gulp of it. “So what’s new?”

“Ehh loaded question.” He says cryptically. You give him a look. “But hey, you’re here on a Wednesday! You done with your...dissertation?” He trails off hesitantly, smiling at himself when you nod.

“Yup. I should know next week if I’m all clear.”

“And then?” He prompts.

“And then you can call me doctor, asshole.” You tease.

“I mean, Dr. Asshole isn’t what I would have gone with as my first choice, but if that’s what you want…”

“Morgan!” You laugh, ducking your head at the lame joke.

He’s grinning when you meet his eyes again, pleased as always that he could make someone laugh. “But seriously, that’s awesome! I’m excited for you.”

“Thanks.” You grin.

“What’s your next step then?”

“Umm I get to start researching infectious diseases for money.” You tell him excitedly, since you’d accepted a job with the University of Toronto’s medical research facilities. “But it doesn’t start until August.”

You’d expected Morgan to tease you about your excitement of infectious disease-something he and his teammates (among many other people you know) have done multiple times before-but instead, he perks up and says, “So you’d be free, on say, the weekend of July 8th?”

“Why?” You ask suspiciously. Experience has told you not to immediately say yes to this.

Morgan sighs. “Look. I need a date for a wedding back home that weekend.”

“And I’m the best you could come up with?”

“Best?” Morgan repeats. “You are funny, you’re pretty, you’re a doctor, all of which, frankly, puts you well out my league.”

“You’re not wrong.” You agree cheerfully, which puts the smile back on Morgan’s face, as you’d hoped. “But that doesn’t explain why you’d need a date to this wedding.”

The smile fades quickly and you wince. “I was supposed to go with Laura.”

You frown. “What happened to Laura?” Last you’d heard, the two of them were solid. Really solid. Headed for a wedding themselves, solid.

“She wasn’t who I thought she was.” He says flatly.

You wince. “I’m sorry, Mo.”

He shrugs. “It’s over and done with now.” You send him a reassuring smile. “So will you come?”

Well, there’s really no way you can say no now and not feel like an asshole. “Sure.”

The grin returns to his face. “Knew you’d come through for me.”

-----

Morgan rolls up to the airport in Vancouver to pick you up in a very fancy looking Jeep, a far cry from the sporty Porsche he drives in Toronto, and you call him out on it immediately. “I see how it is. You go home and you’re a fancy country boy, not a fancy city boy?”

He laughs. “Fuck off.”

“Gladly.” You tell him, grinning teasingly. “Drop me off at departures, will ya?”

His tone immediately turns serious. “Thank you. Seriously. Thanks for coming.”

Your smile remains on your face, still beaming over at him. “It was nothing, Mo.” It wasn’t, really, and you both know it. You’d quit your bar job a couple weeks early because of this, but you were happy to do this for him. He’d been down about Laura, down about being bounced from the playoffs again. This spring had been rough on him and you were more than happy to do your part to cheer up one of your closest friends.

Morgan hmms, in a way like he’s pretending to be casual about it, but he changes the subject as he switches lanes to pull onto the highway.

-----

Morgan has a whole itinerary for the next few days, prior to the wedding, but promises he’ll take you around to some of his favorite spots before you leave late next week. A quiet night tonight, dinner with his parents and brother tomorrow, and then the wedding stuff began the following day.

Much like his fancy Jeep, his fancy house in Vancouver is also nothing like the condo he owns in Toronto. You wouldn’t go so far as to say that his condo is...edgy, but it’s pretty modern? The house here in Vancouver is larger, sure, but reminds you a lot of the house you grew up in...or well, a larger and fancier version of it.

“Gonna give me a tour?” You turn to Morgan, who’s standing next to you almost awkwardly, as you look up at the beautiful house in front of you. Your bags are still in his hands, and you nudge his arm playfully, reaching for one, but he won’t let you grab it, smiling back at you as he starts to lead you in.

The inside is just as nice, and even though it’s clear that his mom and interior decorator have done a lot of work on it, there’s still a lot of Mo touches too. Each one makes you smile, the ones he points out in his tour and the ones that he doesn’t, until he finally leads you upstairs, dropping your things in one of the spare rooms. “Did I-“

“If the next words out of your mouth are say thank you, I’m walking out of this house.” You warn him.

“-ask what you want to do for dinner tonight?” Morgan finishes lamely and you laugh.

“That sushi place you always hype up?”

Morgan smiles. “Anything you want.” He says, and then, instead of the thank you that you know he wants to say, he pulls you in for a hug and squeezes tightly, before letting go. “Change and we’ll go?”

“Shower, change, and we’ll go.” You correct, dying to get the feel of airplane off you. “45 minutes.”

Morgan looks at you knowingly. “Sure, uh huh.” He says, nodding like he knows it’ll be much closer to an hour, an hour and fifteen, and you laugh, shoving at his shoulder before he makes you want to stretch it out to an hour and a half on purpose.

-----

Morgan’s parents might be the nicest people in the world, but they’re also a little...odd? Like, you’re not trying to be mean, because just like Morgan, they truly are the absolute sweetest, but, like, they just keep smiling at you with this knowing smile, like they know something that you don’t and it’s just...weird.

But they welcome you with open arms, when the two of you show up to dinner on your second night in town, hugging you just as tightly as they hug their own son, maybe even tighter than they hug the son who still lives in the same province as them. 

“We’re so excited to finally meet you!” Morgan’s mom gushes, once you get settled in their kitchen with a glass of wine, which at least explains the weirdness a little. “

“You guys too.” You admit. You’ve heard so much about them, his parents and brother, over the years of friendship with Morgan; it’s nice to finally put faces to names, to stories. “Thanks for having me tonight.” Next to you, Morgan nudges you, a grin on his face. You can practically hear him. Stop saying thank you, like you’ve been saying to him for the past day. 

“Oh stop!” She says, practically in time with his nudge. “Morgan tells us you’re a doctor now!” It’s said with pride, like you may as well be one of her own children who’s done something great.

“Yeah!” You smile, swirling the wine around a little, and then, because you don’t want there to be any confusion. “Not that kind of doctor; you should still call 911 if something happens.”

His dad laughs and his mom beams. “What kind of doctor then?” His dad asks, and you spend a while talking with his parents about epidemiology and your dissertation- his mom, it turns out, works in a similar field, and it isn’t long before the two of you are rolling your eyes about some research that just came out.

“What?” You ask Morgan, laughing, when your conversation breaks out, and she has to go check on dinner, at his dad’s request, before he burns it all entirely.

“I just forgot how excited you get about infectious diseases.”

“Can’t believe you’ve been out here this whole time knowing that your mom and I both exist and haven’t introduced us.” You announce. “The rudeness, the hearsay.”

“I don’t think that’s how that word’s used.” Morgan cackles.

“Oh, sorry, are you a doctor?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with knowing how that word is used!” He protests, laughing.

You ignore him. “If you even think of keeping her from me when they come to Toronto…”

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and squeezes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

-----

“Are you ready yet?” Morgan calls, and you take one last look in the mirror on the wall, smoothing the pleats in your dress. “We’re going to be late!”

“But it’s gonna be worth it!” You sing-song as you descend the stairs to meet him in the living room.

“Is it ev-” He cuts off abruptly, eyes wide and swallowing visibly as he cuts off. “Wow, okay then.”

“Worth it.” You wink at him, brushing past him to grab your purse. 

Morgan’s laughing as he picks up his keys, this soft and gentle thing that you can’t help but smile at. “Yeah, I should’ve known it would be.”

“You’ll know better for tomorrow!” You tease, and breeze past him to get in the car.

The ride to his cousin’s rehearsal dinner isn’t far, spent mostly laughing as you keep switching the station from anything Morgan changes it back to. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, you’re both giggling as you enter, flagged down almost immediately by Morgan’s mom.

“Look at you two!” She gushes.

“Mom.” Morgan says dryly. “Come on.”

She smiles at him indulgently. “Make sure you say hi to your cousin.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Morgan nods, grabbing your hand to pull you away. “Just after we hit the bar.” He mutters and you giggle.

His cousin, the bride, and her husband-to-be seem to have the same idea, and it’s just as you’re turning away, wine glasses in hand, that you nearly run into them.

“Oh!” Ashley beams excitedly, once Morgan introduces you. “Hi!”

“Congratulations!” You return the excitement. She’s so bubbly and bright; it’s easy to do, even though you don’t know her. “You guys look so great tonight; you’re going blow us all away tomorrow.”

“She’s going to blow me away tomorrow.” Dylan jokes, but you can tell by the twinkle in his eye that he’s entirely serious.

“Oh stop.” Ashley knocks his arm. “And you too,” She gestures at you. “You look amazing! How’d you do your hair like that?”

“This?” She nods and you walk her through it quickly; it’s a look that’s so much more simple than it looks and she’s gasping by the time you’re done. 

“Ok, mhmm.” She nods. “I’m getting your number from Morgan later so you can go over that with me again because I’m definitely going to forget.”

Morgan flicks a piece of your hair. “It’s a hairstyle, what could you possibly forget?”

You and Ashley exchange a look. “I got you.” You reassure her as you both laugh at him.

“Men, honestly.” She shakes her head, as Morgan and Dylan protest, but then before you and Ashley can talk any more, she and Dylan are being called away, and there’s promises for you all to catch up tomorrow at the wedding.

“You can’t have her phone number unless you promise not to talk about me.” Morgan says.

“Fat chance.” You tell him. “But nice try.”

From there, you start making your way back to his parents, stopping off to chat quickly with relatives he recognizes (and once, ducking purposefully into a small crowd to avoid an aunt he doesn’t want to see). You feel like it shouldn’t be surprising how nice his family is, given how genuine Morgan is, but each person you meet welcomes you so warmly, with kind words and open arms. 

“You must talk about me a lot.” You tease, as you two start making your way to your table.

Morgan shrugs. “More than I’d realized apparently.” You cackle and he laughs; it’s familiar and easy, but then you’re easily distracted by the appetizers coming to the table and fighting Morgan for extra of your favorites-also familiar and easy.

-----

It’s another morning of Morgan waiting impatiently for you, being rewarded with his gaping jaw dropped, and teasing him the entire ride to the wedding, before he easily gets his revenge when you tear up at the ceremony.

“You don’t even know these people!” He nudges you forward toward his cousin in the reception line right after the ceremony. “And you’re going to cry like that?”

“It was a beautiful ceremony!” You defend. You’d been right yesterday; Ashley had easily blown everyone away from the moment she’d entered the room. Their vows were incredible; you didn’t understand how anyone wasn’t crying.

Morgan snickers, nudging you forward again. “God, what do you do at weddings you actually know the people at?” He pauses as you both step closer another, like the idea has just come to him. “Oh man, what are going to do at your own wedding?”

“Bawl my eyes out, obviously.” You say dryly. “Tell my future husband to bring tissues.” You move up, next in line for Ashley and Dylan. “You clearly didn’t get the message.”

“What’d you do?” Ashley pokes him; you guess whoever was in front of you was a guest she didn’t know all that well because they’ve moved along pretty quickly.

“Me? I’d never.” Morgan says innocently, ducking down to kiss her cheek.

“I’m just giving him a hard time.” You agree and she grins, shocking you when she pulls you in for a hug. 

“He probably deserves it.” She says cheerfully.

“Wow, I see family loyalty goes a long way here, huh.” Morgan deadpans.

Ashley gives him a look. “Not for much longer, I guess, though?” She nudges him.

“Oh I see how it is, you’ve been married for all of five minutes and suddenly Dylan’s family is better than ours?” Morgan teases.

Ashley blinks. “That is...not how I meant that at all.” She says, but before she can say anything else to you, the couple behind the two of you starts sighing impatiently, and you all realize how long you’ve been talking for. You quickly congratulate her and then move along to Dylan as well, before stepping out of line and moving towards the reception area.

The bridal party was quick to get the reception started after the ceremony, so when you and Morgan make your way over, there’s already a decent sized group chatting and drinking. You both grab drinks from the bar and make your way to a group of his cousins, chatting for a while and laughing along as they’re sure to include you in all of their jokes.

When it comes time to start making your way to your table for dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom quickly, running into Morgan’s grandmother when you’re there, who had the same idea as you it seems.

She lights up when she sees you fixing your hair in the mirror, stepping up to wash her hands. “It looks great.” She assures you and you smile, thanking her. “Are you having a good time?”

You nod, following her out so the two of you can make your way back to the reception. “Such a good time! Everyone’s been amazing and Ashley and Dylan are beautiful; it’s been a great weekend!”

“It’ll be great to be all be here again,” Morgan’s grandmother smiles at you and you return it politely. “Next summer.” She adds, like an afterthought, and you shrug. She’d know better than you what the upcoming engagements look like. You can barely remember the names of the people you’re seated with tonight.

“If Morgan brings me back then.” You throw her a finger gun and she laughs-loudly.

“Oh, you’re a trip!” She nudges you gently, laughing. “Such a doll. Let’s get another glass of wine together before we go back, shall we?”

“I will never say no to that.” You’re pretty sure you still have a couple minutes to spare before you need to sit down. 

His grandmother links arms with you. “My kinda gal.” She beams and her smile is contagious, just like Morgan’s is when he’s really happy, so it’s not hard to grin along with her as she tugs you along for another glass of rosé.

-----

The evening’s winding down- the wedding long over and the after party beginning to do so as well. Almost all of the older relatives have made their way home or to their hotel rooms but there’s a few sloppy cousins and friends still going hard (you’ve got some serious concerns how the one groomsman is even going to make it upstairs). Ashley and Dylan keep stealing glances at each other, like they’re wondering if it’s late enough for them to sneak away yet, but each time they look like they’re going to, someone calls for another toast.

Morgan nudges you. “Hey.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a couple cigars. “Outside with me?”

You think about it for a second. Usually, you love a good cigar-and you’re sure that Morgan’s managed to acquire a good one- but tonight? “Not really in the mood, but I’ll come out.”

He grins, a little crooked, and offers his hand to help you up from the couch the two of you have been sitting on. Outside, the weather is beautiful, one of those crystal clear nights with a light breeze where you feel like you could be outside for hours. He lights the cigar while you continue to sip at your wine, the two of you standing in comfortable silence, until the door opens again.

“Cigars without me?” His brother grumbles. “I see how it is now.”

“Yup, just left you behind on purpose.” Morgan says shamelessly, but he’s already pulling the spare out of his pocket and handing it over.

“Unsurprising.”

“Yeah?” Morgan asks, amusedly. “Why’s that?” 

His brother gives him a look, and then, when Morgan doesn’t react, looks over at you, but you just shrug. “Just promise you won’t forget about me once you pop the question.”

You choke on your drink; Morgan looks just as shocked, the cigar halfway to his mouth. “What?” He says finally.

For the first time, his brother looks unsure. “I think...we all just thought...once you brought her home, that was the only thing holding you back?”

“Oh my god.” Morgan says breathlessly.

“I’m not-” You add helplessly. “We’re not-”

“Oh.” His brother winces. “Wait, so you’re not…” He trails off and the silence between the three of you becomes so thick it’s almost palpable. You don’t know what to do, what to say. What he even means. “You’re not together?” He says finally, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else.

You can relate. You shake your head slowly, notice Morgan’s doing the same out of the corner of your eye.

“Um.” His brother continues. “And-and you haven’t been-together?” Another head shake. “Wow. A lot of people are going to be very disappointed.”

“A lot of people?” Morgan repeats. “Who...who all thinks this?” But you don’t need an answer to know and apparently, he doesn’t either. The silence thickens somehow; you didn’t think it was possible. 

“Um.” His brother’s already backing away, even as he speaks. “I’m gonna go now. Before I say anything else to make this worse.”

He’s gone before you can tell him you’re not sure that’s possible, leaving you and Morgan in the loudest silence you’ve ever experienced. 

It’s abundantly clear Morgan feels it too, from the way he won’t even meet your eyes, will barely even look at you, actually. And there’s so much to say here, but well, “You never brought Laura to meet your family? Never let them meet her at home?” Apparently, they really weren’t as serious as you’d thought.

Morgan laughs hollowly, finally meeting your eyes. “That probably should have been a clue, huh?”

“A little bit of a red flag.” You agree. It’d been how many years? Morgan’s tight with his family, that much you knew before you’d come out here and only became clearer as you met them. “Why...why didn’t you ever introduce them?”

Morgan sighs. “I think-I always knew something wasn’t right. And I just didn’t want to admit it?” He sighs again. “I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”

“You didn’t know.” You tell him gently. “And I wanted to come.” You remind him. “I was happy to!” You pause for a second. “I was happy to come across the country to a wedding with you and your family with barely a second thought. So maybe we both need to re-examine what happened here this weekend.”

“Maybe we don’t.” Morgan says simply.

“What?” You frown, confused.

“You were happy to fly across the country for a wedding with me and my family.” Morgan repeats, with a small smile on his face. “And then you come here and meet my entire family, and they think I’m ready to propose to you, because you're the girl they hear me talk about all the time.” Your jaw drops-is he saying...what you think he’s saying-and his smile grows into a grin. “I think this thing between us has been more than either of us have been able to admit because we’ve had other things going on- school or hockey or-”

“Other girlfriends?” You supply teasingly, when he trails off, like he’s afraid to mention her name.

He nods. “There’ve been other boyfriends, too.” He nudges you, just as teasing.

“There have.” You admit, because it’s not a lie, but none of them have ever worked out, for a variety of reasons, but you can’t help but think, that now that he’s mentioning it, Morgan might have been a part of those other reasons.

He’s back to smiling again when he continues, leaning against you slightly. “I think we owe it to ourselves to see what we could be.”

You lean back against him. “You do, do you?”

“I do.” He nods.

“Little early for that, don’t you think?” It takes a second for your joke to land, but once it does, he cracks up and it brings a smile to your face. 

“We are at a wedding.” He grins, nudging you playfully. “Who knows, maybe someday it’ll be ours?”

-----

a bit in the future

It’s one of those beautiful sunny days where the sun is shining with a light breeze where you feel like you could be outside for hours. 

Unfortunately, you’ve got a huge project due at the end of the week, so while Morgan’s been enjoying the lake all day, you’ve been sitting at a table on the dock, staring at your laptop, tapping away at your keyboard, and ignoring his increasingly annoying calls for attention.

It’s harder to ignore when he comes up next to you, wrapping his wet arms around your shoulders. “Morgan.” You try to shake him off. “Come on, gimme like ten minutes and then I’ll come in.”

“Promise?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say because if you can get this one last thing done you’ll be ahead of your goal for the day.

It works; Morgan sits down next to you quietly, scrolling through his phone for a bit, and then, jumps up and runs inside the cabin, and you jump on the opportunity of quiet to get ahead even further, losing yourself in your next bit of project.

“Hey,” Morgan says casually, and it scares you a bit, his return far quieter than he’s been all day. “What are you doing the weekend of July 8th?”

“I don’t know, that’s like a year away!.” You snap, turning to tell him to stop annoying you, only for your jaw to drop when you see him down on one knee.

“Want to get married then?” He says, a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face, like he’s been waiting for this reaction, like it was everything and more.

“Oh my god! Are you serious?” He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a ring; you gasp. “Morgan!”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Your computer long forgotten in the face of an engagement ring, you throw yourself at Morgan, who catches you easily, like he was prepared for this. He probably was. He knows you better than anyone; he’s your best friend and so much more. He barely manages to slip the ring on your finger before you’re kissing him. “I love you!”

“I love you, too.” He grins. “Are you sure you’re ready to take this jump with me?”

“Of course!” You beam, but it hits you just a minute too late. He’s already jumping in the water. “You’re the worst.” You sputter out at him, purposefully spitting lake water at his face. 

He doesn’t even look like he minds. “For better or worse.” He grins.

“That’s not what that’s referring to!” You splash him and he splashes back but before it can devolve into a full on splash attack, he’s pulling you into his arms.

“I mean it though.” He says, kissing you again. “And I’ll tell you again, next summer, at our wedding.”

Our wedding. The words sound almost unreal, too good to be true. “I’ll be the one in white.” You promise. “Or, well, maybe ivory.” You say and it’s hard to kiss Morgan then when he’s laughing so hard.

[ninzied]

that which we call a rose

based on the prompt: a hello/goodbye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.

happy valentine’s day, kastle fam!

On the second Thursday of every month, Karen can’t help the extra spring in her step. There’s no point in trying to hide it—she does have an office adjacent to Matt’s, after all—but until she knows what it even is, she’ll let her friends draw their own conclusions.

This month is no exception.

“So…hot date tonight?” asks Foggy, precisely ten minutes after Matt’s said goodbye. Though Foggy’s doing his best to sound nonchalant, he’s clearly been waiting all day to spring the question on her. “You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked in this morning. And that was before we even had coffee. What gives?”

“Not a date,” says Karen lightly. “But a something.”

“Wait.” Foggy looks up from his briefcase, dropping every pretense now. “Yeah? That’s great! I’m so happy for you, Karen.”

She looks a little bemusedly at him. “Thanks, Foggy, but it’s not a big deal. Just takeout and whatever’s on TV tonight, probably.”

“Hey,” says Foggy. “Not gonna lie, but that sounds pretty appealing right now.”

Karen lets out a laugh. “Why? What’s stopping you and Marci?”

“You know how she gets about this kind of thing.” Foggy glances at his watch, and groans. “Shoot. I still have to pick up flowers. I can’t afford to be late—literally. This place had like a five-month wait list for tonight, and I think there’s a surcharge if we hold up one of their tables.” He throws her a rueful smile. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” says Karen, in a tone that she hopes will come across as commiserating rather than slightly confused. Was there some memo about today that she missed?

“And you have a good ‘not a date but a something,’” says Foggy, practically beaming at her. “You can”—he gives a comical wag of his eyebrow—”not tell me all about it tomorrow, sound good?”

“Sure,” says Karen, smiling distractedly. She waits until Foggy has gone, the door closed securely behind him. And then she picks up her tiny desk calendar, which she’d forgotten to flip over to February, and looks down at today’s date.

Oh. God.

…

The signs are everywhere, on her walk home from the subway.

For the life of her, Karen doesn’t know how she could’ve missed them before. Paper hearts plastered on storefront windows. Floral shops spilling out onto the sidewalks. Restaurants boasting their two-for-one specials. And the couples. All the couples, wherever she turns.

By the time she’s at her apartment, Karen is nearing levels of genuine panic.

She hangs up her work clothes as if on autopilot. She pulls on a worn pair of leggings and a soft, oversized sweater before pausing to reconsider, and then she changes out of that too. This isn’t just any second Thursday of the month anymore.

She checks her phone, in case Frank has canceled.

She does have a text from him, but all it says is that he’s running about a half hour late—his latest demolition site is all the way up in the Bronx, and traffic is a bitch right now—but how does she feel about Vietnamese for dinner?

There’s no doubt in her mind that the day has not occurred to him either.

Perfect. I’ll be ready with the wine, she sends back, and immediately wonders what has come over her. Beer would’ve been the more appropriate choice for this very much not-a-date, and besides that, they never drink wine together. Whiskey, sometimes, but they’d finished off her last bottle of Maker’s the last time he was here.

Wine is different. Wine means something. Right?

What was she thinking?

And what on earth is she supposed to wear?

…

Karen answers the door an hour later, back in her sweater and leggings. She breathes a small sigh of relief to find Frank there in his typical attire—jeans, with a faded black henley, and a crooked half-grin as he steps over the threshold into her apartment.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” he says back, like it’s just another day. Like this is just another dinner for them to catch up. He holds up a bag and says, “Hungry?”

“Starving.” She reaches for the food so he can get out of his coat, but he waves her gently off.

“’S’okay, I got it.” He looks at her, his gaze going warm. “Think you said there’d be wine?”

And just like that, the rest of her anxiety melts away. There’s still a light flutter of nerves in her stomach, but that’s something else.

Something that she’s always going to feel whenever she’s around him, whether it’s Valentine’s Day or not.

…

Despite how casually Frank is dressed, there’s always a sense of formality to the way he moves around in her place. Like he’s not quite sure whether he’s intruding or not.

He carefully folds his jacket over the back of her couch before taking the food to her kitchen, unpacking each dish as she pulls out the wine.

She tells him about work—minus Foggy’s theories on how she planned to spend her evening—and Frank doesn’t say much, but she knows that he’s listening, attentive to her as ever.

Somewhere between the first and second glass of wine is when he starts to loosen a little, leaning his elbows onto the counter, swiping the last bite of spring roll from her plate.

He tells her small stories about how work has been going for him, and each time she laughs he ducks his head down, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

They end up eating half the food before realizing they’re still standing in her kitchen.

Frank takes their wine to the couch, and she turns the TV on at low volume, flipping aimlessly through the channels.

They settle on a cooking show, which would’ve surprised her one year ago, before these Thursday night dinners. Before he teased her for the one frying pan that she owned and resigned himself to eating takeout from then on. Before they learned to laugh about things like what Matt said at work that day, or the fact that Frank hasn’t had to kill anyone with a sledgehammer. Not recently, anyway.

“All right,” he says, pointing at the pasta on her TV screen. “Next month, we’re doing this at my place for a change, and I’m making you that.”

She doesn’t know why she does it.

Maybe it’s his casual reference to next times. Maybe it’s how closely they’ve wound up sitting together, with her thigh snug against his, the arm he’s draped warmly over the back of the couch right behind her.

Maybe it’s the way this not-so-random Thursday in February feels as though it could become something like every day, for them.

“Deal.” She puts a hand on his knee without even thinking about it, smiling as she tells him, “All right, I’m going to go to the bathroom real quick.”

“Okay,” says Frank, turning to smile back at her.

It happens so fast, so instinctively that before she knows what she’s doing, she’s leaning in, and pressing her mouth briefly to his as she stands from the couch.

Like this is an everyday kind of thing for them too, kissing each other before one of them’s about to leave the room.

Karen makes it down the hall without any memory of how her legs have carried her there. Oh God. Oh God.

Her cheeks are flaming when she shuts the bathroom door behind her.

…

After splashing water on her face, and dabbing it dry with shaky hands, she looks in the mirror and wills every last part of her being to get a freaking grip. This is Frank, and she can be honest with him. Even if it means being honest with herself.

She knows what this is. She knows what she wants it to be. And she’s done letting either of them think that anything less is going to be enough for her.

Karen takes a deep breath and steps out of the bathroom.

…

She hadn’t been gone long, but apparently it was long enough.

The TV’s shut off, their wine glasses cleared from the coffee table. He’s not on the couch.

He’s not—anywhere in her living room.

But as she moves closer, she sees his coat still folded there, and then she hears the sound of movement in the kitchen. She doesn’t know whether she’s more relieved or apprehensive at the prospect of facing him right now, but she supposes she’s grateful she even has the option to decide between the two.

Frank’s clearing the counter, so she can’t get a good read on his face. He’s quiet, though, brows creased together even more somberly than usual, and the fact that he won’t meet her eye should tell her everything he’s not saying out loud.

Their leftovers are stacked neatly next to the takeout bag. He slides the bag out of her way as she picks up the food containers, storing them in her fridge. There’s a six-pack of beer on one of the lower shelves, the bottles clinking together as she closes the door.

“Frank,” she says, careful not to look over at him, “I think we should talk about what we’re doing here.”

He swallows audibly. And then he says, “Yeah. I know.”

She glances at him, wishing she weren’t as surprised as she feels. She’d expected more resistance from him, if not outright denial. It’s unfair of her, she knows; Frank’s abysmal track record notwithstanding, he’s still here, despite the fact that she’d just snuck a kiss out of him without his permission. That has to mean something.

Right?

God love him, though, but he can’t seem to keep his hands still. He grips the edge of the counter, and then reaches into the takeout bag, a rustle of paper and plastic that echoes overloudly in the silence between them.

Karen presses her lips together, biting back a refrain about how now is probably not the time for dessert.

Instead, Frank pulls out a small bouquet of white roses.

She stares as he sets them down on the counter. When he looks up at her, it’s with an intensity that nearly knocks her off her feet, and she grips the counter edge too in order to steady herself.

His gaze is unwavering on hers. “I’ve been thinking about this day for a while.”

She blinks at him, a part of her still wondering if it’s wrong of her to hope. “You have?”

“More than anything.” He shifts closer, and now she can see the last of the fear in him too, how he’s finally reached past it for something—for more. The edge of her own fear starts to soften, giving way to that fluttering lightness only Frank can make her feel.

Karen steps forward, marveling at the shared heat between them without their bodies actually touching. “And what, exactly, have you been thinking?”

Frank brings his hand up to the back of her neck, and she closes her eyes as he pulls her in.

He kisses her, and it’s everything Karen has wanted, everything she could only pretend that she hadn’t been waiting for all this time. He kisses her, and she knows how long he’s been wanting, and how hard he’s been waiting for this too.

He draws in a hoarse breath when they part. “I wanted to get this right,” he murmurs.

“Well,” says Karen, trying—failing—not to smile, “you want to know what I think?”

He tightens his arms around her. “What?”

“I think this is a good place to start,” she says, and leans in to kiss him again.

[meltwonu]

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ night verses ✦

this chapter pairing; sub!mingyu x succubus!reader

genre&warnings; sub!mingyu, ceo!mingyu, succubus!reader, blowjob, restraints(non-penetrative tentacles), (whiny baby mingyu), choking, dirty talk, (a little service top mingyu for ya too), mingyu has a praise kink and we all know it!!!

notes; yes... I did imagine Bad Clue GoSe Mingyu for this one.... 👀👀 hehe~ and also mingyu’s been a tease and knows we seem to like ceo!gyu and we ALL know this bitch has a praise kink, he makes it way too obvious dkjfhdskf LMAO 😆(also I'm curious how many of you have gotten curious about the song lyrics so far...) Thank you for all the love and interest, as always! Stay hydrated and I will see yall tomorrow!! 💕🎃👻 

word count; ~2300

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x

i stand alone when i’m with you;

i’m a tangled twisted fool

draw me into your world;

make it all go away.

Mingyu leans against the mahogany table in his study, glass filled with whiskey as he sighs.

His eyes flit over the various work documents and contracts spread across the wide table, lips pressing into a firm line.

He really hated working off the clock.

Rounding the table, he takes a seat back in his expensive office chair as he spaces out momentarily; wondering what you were up to since it was Halloween night. He takes a sip of his alcohol, thoughts of you flooding his mind. You had mentioned the last time he saw you that you’d be 'busy’ on Halloween and now he was regretting being so holed up in his office with work.

In actuality, he hadn’t seen you in what had to have been two weeks, now that he thought about it. He’d been so swamped with work that he hadn’t even had a chance to indulge, much less take care of himself.

Mingyu lets his mind wander; mental images of you underneath him pressed into his bed making him sigh dreamily.

He really did miss you.

“Oho~ If it isn’t Mr. Kim working hard on Halloween night~” His eyes dart over to the double doors to his study as he sets his glass down onto the table top.

“How--”

“Aww, c’mon Mingyu! What did I tell you last time?”

Right. You probably knew the second he even started thinking about you.

���I thought you said you’d be busy tonight...”

“I had some free time ‘n thought I’d check in~”

He takes in your appearance, noting the way your horns seem to be extra sharp and the way your crimson eyes seem to burn an even darker shade than usual.

You make your way over to him, hip propped against the expensive wood as you reach for his glass. He watches you take a sip, eyes fixated on the way you lick your lips. His mouth parts in a quiet whimper, “I--fuck I’ve missed your mouth. I’ve been so busy I--I haven’t even had a chance to take care of myself. Can we…?” Giggling in return, you step closer to him, watching the lust pool in his eyes when you tilt his head up to meet your crimson stare.

“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Kim~”

Mingyu hates relinquishing his power to anyone; it’s in my nature to be on top, he says.

And on most days, you let him.

“Ngh, fu---fuck, can you p-please just--”

He tugs against the tentacles keeping his wrists bound above him, hips thrusting up towards your face. “This f-fucking sucks!” He whines. “I hate t-this!”

You shoot the male a grin, sitting up in between his legs as you watch him squirm. “I told you, it’s my night so we’re trying something different, Mingyu. And anyway, look at how hard your cock is getting.” He glances down; hazy eyes honing in on the tentacle wrapped around his shaft.

You had never played with him like this before. Not that it was a bad thing.

He watches the precum leak from the head of his cock as the wet appendage moves up and down his shaft. “Doesn’t it feel good, ‘Gyu?” He nods in response, “It’s… d-different but… good. I just, my---my arms...”

Leaning back down between his legs, you let the tentacle unwrap itself from his cock as you replace it with your tongue. You lick a strip from the base to the head before you wrap your lips around him and hollow out your cheeks.

“Oh, f-fuck!” He cries; weak sobs on his lips as you tease him. You slowly sink down onto him, taking more of his cock into your mouth until you start deepthroating him. “Please, please, please…” His head is fuzzy, thighs trembling and you’d just only started.

Mingyu’s just a little confused, but he chalks it up to you and your sexual energy on a night like tonight.

You hum around him; relishing in the way he squirms and whines at the vibrations that shoot up his spine. And ever so slowly, you bob your head up and down, hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on him. He tries to buck his hips up to make you take more of him, but you quickly pull off of him in an instant.

“Oh, Mingyu~ You’ll want to behave for me or else I’ll really drag it out. Would you like that? You haven’t cum in 2 weeks and I can make you wait longer~” You tease, watching as the panic floods in his eyes.

“No! No I--I’ll behave, I promise…”

Smirking, you take him back into your mouth as you let a tentacle travel up his torso. He watches in mild confusion but he’s quick to throw his head back against the pillows when it starts teasing his nipples. “Fuck, what t-the fuck…” He cries out.

And despite your slow torturous movements, Mingyu already feels himself on the brink of an orgasm as his heels dig into the sheets. “Ngh, please--I--I need to cum…” Murmuring, he notices you don’t make a move to stop.

The sensations become too much for him, your mouth on his cock with the strange appendages teasing his nipples and he finds himself unable to speak, much less warn you when his orgasm hits him out of nowhere. You start deepthroating him at the same time, moaning around him at the way his cock throbs in your mouth and down your throat.

Mingyu feels weightless, body tingling as he rides out the high.

But it doesn’t last long, as you pull off of him; lips covered in cum and spit. “Look at you, ‘Gyu. Aren’t you a sight?” You teasingly giggle, taking in his disheveled appearance.

“Mmh… fu--fuck…”

He feels his arms go slack, tired eyes peering up and noticing that all the tentacles have gone away. “I--” A blush paints his cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve ever c-cum that quickly…”

You lick your lips, wrapping a hand around his cock again. “Aww, hope you saved some cum for me, baby boy. I still haven’t gotten what I wanted and you already came down my throat!” You jokingly pout down at him as he winces at the sensitivity when you squeeze his cock.

“C’mon, fuck my cunt, Mingyu.”

He feels his cock throb in your hold, nodding shakily as he moves to get up and switch places.

You rest your head against the pillows as you spread your legs for him. “You’re so shy like this, Mingyu~ Cat got your tongue?” The blush on his cheek intensifies as he slots himself between your legs. “N-no, I’m just…”

“You’re just, what? Used to bossing me around and using me like your cute ‘lil toy?” You bring a foot down onto his cock, pressing into it as he groans. “Mm, but Mingyu’s gonna be good and be my toy for tonight, right?” Laughing lightly, you lift your foot from his cock as he wraps a hand around himself again.

“Ye--yeah… I’ll be g-good…”

He positions his cock at your entrance, noting the way his hand seems shaky. “‘Gyu~ Don’t make me wait~”

Mingyu starts to slowly sink his cock into you, biting his lip to hold in his noises. Fuck, he really did miss you.

“Ngh, fuck you’re so big, Mingyu, I--I missed your fuckin’ cock…” He feels his cock throbbing between your tight and warm walls; cock head snug against your cervix as he waits. “C-can I move?”

You could get used to this side of Mingyu.

“Of course you can, baby boy. Now, fuck me like you mean it since I haven’t seen you in 2 weeks.” Mingyu nods feverishly as he draws his hips back and slams his cock into you. A mewl cuts through the air and he finds himself being coaxed by your sweet voice to make you feel better than he’d ever made you feel.

I need to stop being so selfish, he thinks.

He starts a moderate pace, putting his pleasure at the back of his head as he focuses on yours. “D-do you feel g-good?” Mingyu asks.

You clench around his cock in response; eating up the way he whines. “Mm~ Does my cute ‘lil ‘Gyu wanna hear me praise how good you fuck me? How good you fill me up just right? How your cock was made for my pretty ‘lil cunt. Or maybe how well you eat me out. Y’know, when you use your tongue on me, lapping up all my wetness ‘til you can’t take it anymore and need to fuck me into the sheets.”

“O-oh, god…” He cries, hips pistoning into you even quicker.

“Mmh, you’re so cute, Mingyu. You’re always so good at being on top, being the dominant one. But you’re better suited like this, y’know? Submissive to me, asking for permission to fuck my cunt like a good boy.” You like your lips; crimson eyes dancing up to Mingyu who meets your stare with his own lust filled pools. “You’ll beg me to cum too. Won’t you?”

He nods, “Y--yeah…”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence; the sound of his cute whines enough to keep you sated as he starts doubling his pace.

You start moving your hips to match his movements, a grin on your lips when you can tell he’s trying his best to stave off his orgasm.

“Mm, bet’cha wanna cum, huh? I can see it all over your face~ But you’ll be good and you’ll wait. You’ll make me cum on your cock, get it nice ‘n wet. Then you can cum in my pussy, fill me up ‘til it’s spilling out of me and then I’ll sit on your pretty face while you eat the cum out of my soaking pussy, right Mingyu?”

Mingyu lets out a guttural moan, eyes momentarily rolling to the back of his head at the thought alone. “Yes, god, fu--fuck, please, let me…”

“Make me cum then~”

His quickens his pace, hips losing rhythm as he tries to throw you over the edge. He places the pad of his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles on the nub as you moan out. “Oh, fuck, baby, more!”

It takes a second for Mingyu to feel the appendage reappear; a shiver rolling down his spine when he feels it traveling up his back. “Wh--what…?”

It slowly wraps around his throat, adding a slight pressure as Mingyu lets out a choked sob. “Please, please cum! I--I don’t know h-how long I can, hah, h-hold off… Please…”

“Mmh, beg me more, baby boy. Let’s hear it~”

He starts rubbing harsher circles on your clit; thrusting into you hard enough to make your body shift up further and further towards the headboard. “Ngh, fuck, please---please cum… I wanna f-feel you get my cock wet ‘n I wanna---wanna eat you out wh--while you sit on my face a-and use me to get o-off on…”

It takes a few more erratic thrusts from Mingyu before you’re cumming, toes curling behind his back as the tentacles wrapped around his throat tighten just enough for the lightheadedness to settle in.

“Fuh---fuck, you feel so good!” A small tear slips from his eye as he feels your walls fluttering around his cock and he opts to grind against you instead as you ride out your orgasm.

“Oh, god, Mingyu, fuck me more!” The grip on his throat loosens as he takes a deep breath. “Please--Please, can I c-cum? I need to c-cum so bad, please… I don’t c-care if you don’t, hah, let me cum all night, just---please!”

You laugh airily, clamping down hard on his cock. “You’re so cute when you beg~ Go ahead, Mingyu. Cum for me, baby boy. I wanna feel your cock throbbing while you fill me up~”

Thank you’s roll off his tongue in a jumbled mess and he’s quick to fold you into a mating press as he chases his orgasm. The tentacle wrapped around his neck tightens up again just as he feels the tension about to snap.

His hips stutter and a choked sob bubbles past his lips not a second later; his hazy eyes watching the way yours twinkle when his orgasm finally washes over him.

“Ngh, fuck, your cock is throbbing inside my fuckin’ cunt, filling me up so much with the cum you saved up for me, right baby boy?”

He nods shakily as he grinds into you, eyes pooling with unshed tears at how good he felt. “G-god, yes, ah, fuck, I---I saved my cum up just for y-you…” He whispers out.

The lightheadedness makes Mingyu feel extra good; fingertips going numb at the amount of new sensations his body was experiencing.

The tentacle disappears again once his body starts to go slack and Mingyu’s stuttered breath makes you grin. “You seem to have enjoyed my ‘lil friends, huh?” The blush on his cheeks run up to his ears, biting his lip as he slowly rests your body down; cock still snug between your warm walls.

“I---I didn’t hate i-it…” He mutters.

There’s a beat of silence as the two of you stay in that position and you quickly raise a brow at Mingyu who stares back at you. “Is there a reason you’re keeping me plugged up with your cock?”

“Wanna… wanna eat you out while you sit on my f-face…” Mingyu gulps, “But--but I don’t want the cum to s-spill out…”

You can’t help but laugh as you shake your head at the taller male. “Fuck, you’re so cute! I’m glad I showed up tonight. I wouldn’t want to have missed this!”

His lips press into an embarrassed smile; shy eyes avoiding your teasing stare.

“I’m glad you came too.”

[mashiraostail]

Hi! Can I get Midnight, Aizawa and Presentation Michael coming home late to see their S/O snuggled up on the couch having fell asleep waiting for them? 😌💜

PRESENT MICHAEL SUPREMACY!! Ofc I can do tht for you! I hope you enjoy it’s under da cut (:<

Nemuri: You always felt bad when you didn’t wait up for her, what if she was hurt or needed help with something? So you usually made yourself comfortable on the couch and tried to get some extra work done, or watch something interesting while you waited for her, and 9/10 times you managed to stay up. Tonight was just impossible though. The more you tried to work the more tired you got, and whatever you put on the television just served as perfect white noise for sleeping, no matter how interesting you would normally find it. All you could do was lean further and further into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. It’s just impossible to keep your eyes open, no matter how hard you try.  Nemuri was just glad to be home, she liked being a hero sure, most heroes do. But jeeze night patrols always sucked, villains should consider bedtimes, and the fact that you were definitely waiting up for her, she felt like she told you every time she got stuck with a night patrol not to wait up but you always tried to, she appreciated it but you had your own things to do and you needed to rest for them-oh.  You were asleep, fast asleep, curled up into the corner of the couch, a knitted blanket wrapped around your shoulders, the TV was barely audible and your laptop was discarded beside you, the screen dim now.  “If you sleep like that you’ll be sore tomorrow.” She puts her hands on your knees where they’re pulled up to your chest. The sleepy breath you take in as your eyes open is really just precious.  “‘m not sore-” You barely snuffle it out rubbing your face into the crook of your elbow and leaning back further into the welcoming couch cushions.  “Maybe not yet.” She sits down beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.  “Don’t try n..use your quirk on me..It won’t work..’m used to it by now.” You mutter as she pulls you into her chest she’s pressing a line of kisses to your temple.  “No, I wouldn’t do something so untrustworthy like that. You just look so precious I wanted a hug.” To be honest, in your current state you couldn’t tell if it was her quirk making you drowsy or just the comfort of being so close to her lulling you back into sleep. “All curled up waiting for me like that.” She’s practically cooing at you and all it does is produce a fuzzy feeling all the way from the pit of your stomach up to the apples of your cheeks.  “‘n case you needed me....I figured..” You wrap an arm around her waist and shuffle closer to her nearly buzzing with affection for her and she laughs, “how thoughtful. Why don’t we head off to bed now? Honestly, I’m exhausted too.” She laments and untangles your body from hers even as you protest. “What, you want me to carry you?” She grins and you shake your head.  “No..no you just worked all night I can walk-” You stand up and stretch, pulling your arms above your head and letting out a groan, “I didn’t even ask how your night was, I’m sorry Muri, I feel so selfish right now-” Before you can finish her hands clamp down on your shoulders and she pulls you into her chest again,  “honestly you’re too adorable.” She protests, “if I wasn’t already in love with you I have no clue what I’d do with the way you make me feel sometimes. You’re way too sweet for your own good.”  “I’m gonna fall asleep standing up if you keep holding onto me like this Muri..” You repine, bringing your arms around her back.  She laughs at that, “okay, okay.” She squeezes you again before letting you go.  “You ‘rnt hurt at all are you?” You follow close behind her as you head down the hall.  “No, it wasn’t a very busy night.” It sort of was, but she felt awful keeping you up anymore when you looked like you were about to fall over. “I’m just gonna clean up. Go to sleep.” “I can wait-”  “I like your sleeping face. Don’t worry about it.” You don’t protest that and climb into bed, it barely takes you 5 minutes to knock out. When she gets back she spends a little bit of time admiring you before getting into bed herself and getting close to you. 

Aizawa: He worked mostly at night. Honestly, when you first got together he didn’t expect it to last this long, he thought it’d be a one or two-time thing, maybe an occasional call back for old times sake but, now you practically live together.  And now he told you to stop waiting up what felt like every other night. You couldn’t help worrying though, and that made it hard to not wait up for him, you didn’t mind you slept well enough when he got back so it wasn’t like you were hurting yourself or anything, despite what he thought. You just got some extra work done, it sort of helped you out to be honest you were always ahead of the game. But it was later than normal today, at first it made worry gnaw at your stomach but you got a text from him saying he’d be late, don’t wait up and just go to bed. You still decide to try and wait up for him though. As it gets later your work just becomes fuzzy and hazed, you figure it’d be ok to lay your head down for a little.. The last thing he wanted was to teach tomorrow. He loved his students (though he may not say it to them so bluntly) but even he got burnt out at times. He’d been stuck out later than normal, he wondered humorlessly as he made his way home if villains ever got bored, doing the same thing over and over again, losing every time. He’d get bored if he lost all the time, at least winning was fun. The only thing that annoyed him was keeping you up so late, he wished villains would be a little more considerate of people’s sleep schedules. He guessed that's what made them villains though. He hopes you just went to bed after he texted, he hated hitting a lead so late but it wasn’t like he could have turned it away. At least it didn’t take as long as he’d worried it would. He knew you’d say it was no big deal, that you weren’t even tired but he could always see right through you, maybe that was part of why he liked you so much, you were transparent to him completely on accident and yet also totally on purpose. It wasn’t like you had an easy cushy job yourself, you need your rest too, and if he was being honest- Well..the least you could have done was gotten into bed. He huffs a soft laugh out of his nose. So what was meant to be a little shut-eye..turned into a full sleep. You were laying on your stomach, one arm dangling off the couch the other under your cheek, your shirt rode halfway up your back and the blanket you’d been using had been kicked down your legs reviling your shorts. You were even drooling.  “Hey.” He can’t help dropping his hand on the exposed skin of your back, “you’ll catch a cold out here.”  “‘m not cold.” You don’t even open your eyes, your nose wrinkles up with a deep breath, “‘s warm in here.”  “That’s not how I meant.” His eyes flick briefly downwards to your legs, the blanket bunched up in the back of your knees. You snuffle wordlessly at him and nestle into the pillow between your arm and face. He crouches down beside you, “I’m home now, go to bed.” His hand slides all the way up to rest between your shoulder blades. It just made your eyelids heavier. He leans forward enough to press a kiss to your shoulder, left exposed by your tanktop.  “I’m gonna clean up, think you can make it to bed on your own?” He rests his forehead against your shoulder and you hum, “mhm..”  “Alright, I’ll meet you in there.”   You did not get up. When he rounds the corner into your bedroom and finds the bed still empty he figures it was to be expected. You were still there, you’d rolled over stomach exposed now, and raising and falling slowly with sleepy breaths.  “Hey.” He’s crouching down again, “come on.” If anyone told him back then he’d be so affectionate now he’d probably laugh, but now all he could think about was pressing his lips to the soft skin of your stomach. So he does. You just hum a hand coming up to his hair,  “oh, Shouta you’re back.”  You feel his lips break into a smile against your skin.  “Yeah I’m back.” He slides his arm under your legs, “let’s go to bed-”  “No, no no don’t carry me it’s fine.” You stop him, “it’s late. You worked this whole time? You must be tired.” You yawn as you sit up. He looked happy for someone who’d just spent all night chasing criminals around in circles.  “You seem like you’re in a good mood.” You stand up and stretch before dropping your arms over his shoulders sleepily, “good night?”  He makes a non-commital noise at that, “eh.” His hands hold your arms as you lean up to kiss him. “I’m just glad to be back.” 

Hizashi: You just liked waiting up, you knew you sitting awake in your apartment while Hizashi ran around doing his thing wouldn’t keep him any safer really. But you couldn’t help it. It made you feel just a little better, and plus Hizashi looked thrilled every time he came back to you waiting up, even as he insisted you could have gone to bed you could tell he was delighted that you’d thought about him. You didn’t mind it, you could catch up on work or watch the shows your friends were always talking about that you couldn’t find the time for, or, like tonight you could just enjoy the peace and quiet with a dim lamp and a good book. You loved Hizashi but quiet like this was rare. He wasn’t deafeningly loud all the time but he always carried an air of white noise with him, clicking of heels, tapping fingers, quiet humming. The continued quiet made you drowsier than you’d like to admit, and you did suppose you’d had a longer day than normal. You lean against the arm of the couch settling onto your side. A little shut-eye would be fine, you didn’t think you’d be able to sleep on the couch too long anyways.  Yes knowing you were waiting up for him certainly did make him work a little harder. Every time he thought about you he got fuzzy with pride. You thought about him when he wasn’t around? You worried about him? He just had to do his best to get back to you as soon as possible so you could have a good night’s sleep. Honestly didn’t villains realize it? Some people have partners waiting up for them. (He was some people). He may or may not remind every villain he came across in any of his overtime of that. It was exhausting, but on his way home all he could think about was climbing into bed with you, feeling your fingers comb through his hair, letting you pull his head into your chest as you told him to get some rest. He opens the door expecting to see you propped up against the couch, reading, on your phone maybe. But you were curled up there, under a thin blanket. He’s sort of embarrassed of just how much his heart swells at the sight of you. He can’t help crouching beside you, getting down to eye level. Your arm and shoulder are exposed over the blanket, and your bare calf pokes out the other end.  “Hey, you.” He reaches out and slides his palm from your shoulder down to your elbow, “go to bed, I’m back.”  Your eyes open and you can’t help leaning toward him a little, “oh, Zashi, welcome back. Sorry, I fell asleep..” You murmur and he grins, “it’s alright, missed me so much you couldn’t even sleep in our bed without me, huh? What are we gonna do with you?” The sleepy smile you offer him and how quiet your voice is when you reply, “oh I don’t know. I’m just hopeless, aren’t I?” Sends about a million arrows straight through his heart. He’s glad he’s not standing, his legs would definitely be wobbly right now. You sit up and look down at him, “completely hopeless, huh?” He puts his hands on your knees and shakes his head “I don’t know about completely hopeless..” He felt like the hopeless one here, he bridges the gap between your lips. You let out a thankful sigh into it, it’s been so long, he’s had you like this for so long and you still made him feel like this? He really was embarrassed. “I’m glad you’re back.” You reach out and take his face in your hands, “was your night alright?” No thoughts, head empty. He just nods, your laugh makes his whole chest burst.  “Long?” He nods again.  “You’re bleeding.” You frown, “let’s clean you up?” He felt stupid, ditzy honestly. When you stand and pull him up to his feet all he can do is follow you.  “You can go to bed..If you’re tired. It’s just some scrapes.” He feels you take his hands in yours, “nothing major. You seem exhausted.”  “Mhm..no..” You wave, taking his hand with yours as you do, “I’d rather go to bed with you anyways...if you don’t mind that is.” He feels his soul leave his body at that. “Thanks for worrying about me.” Is all the response he can manage, “I’m really lucky to have you looking out for me.” 

[drabbles-mc]

You Came Back (2/3)

Juice Ortiz x Reader

Request from @ateliefloresdaprimavera​​: Juice has a special place in my heart, so I'm denying his ending on the show😭 I want to foccus on the nurturing,fluffy and romantic side that he deserves😍 maybe something about Opie and Jax childhood friend who comes back to charming( Gemma always thought of her as her own kid) and she's really closed of emotionaly, bit our boy is smitten from the second he has his eyes on her. so romantic Juice overdrive, and she starts to see this side of life that's worth, by his side

Warnings: language, cuties dancing around their feelings

Word Count: 2.6k

Chapter Index: Part 1 , Part 3

A/N: I’m a sucker for build-ups before relationships, which seemed to work well with this prompt. Hope y’all enjoy!

You fell into a routine at the shop quicker than you thought you were going to. Most of the time you were working with Gemma, helping her manage orders and appointments for all the repairs. Occasionally you were sent out on a pickup with one of the guys, usually Juice or the prospect. It wasn’t a strenuous work day for you, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you felt extremely comfortable at T-M, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

You were finishing up filing some things away when you heard Jax’s voice fill the small office, “Hey, Y/N.”

You turned to him with a smile, “What’s up?”

“You heading right home tonight? Or you got time to stick around?”

You shrugged, “Got no pressing plans, why?”

A smirk passed over his face, “You should stick around, then. Party at the clubhouse tonight.”

You sighed but couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Even before you had never been one to go to the clubhouse parties. The only people you really wanted to hang out with then were Jax and Opie. In a way, that hadn’t really changed all that much, but you felt a little more of an obligation to go. You were more entwined with everything now whether you liked it or not.

“Fine. But the second someone says some weird shit to me or tries to touch me or something, I’m out.”

He chuckled, nodding, “Alright. But hey, you’ll have me and Ope. No one is gonna try and mess with you.”

“For your sake and theirs, you better hope not,” you tried to keep a straight face but you ended up breaking out in laughter.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were having fun at the party. You kept yourself close to Jax and Opie, knowing that they would provide you with a type of security blanket.  You were perched on the arm of the couch, Opie’s hand resting on your knee to provide you with a little bit of extra comfort. You took in the controlled chaos happening around you and it was hard to imagine that your best friends had grown up in this, that this is just what life was like for them.

“I’m gonna grab another beer,” you patted Opie’s hand, “You want one?”

He nodded, “Yea, if you don’t mind.”

You shot him a wink as you stood up from the couch, “I gotchu.”

You leaned against the bar as you waited for Kipp to bring you a couple beers. You felt someone come and stand next to you, and when you looked over you had to smile at the eagerness that seemed permanent in Juice’s eyes.

He smiled at you, “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You laughed, “Me either. Jax extended a personal invite, so I figured I should show up to at least one party before swearing them off altogether.”

“Wanna step out for a smoke?”

You smiled, “I gotta bring this to Opie.”

Juice shook his head before flagging down the prospect, “Yo, Half-Sack,” he nodded towards the beer bottle, “bring that to Opie. Grab one for Jax, too,” he turned back to you with a smile, gesturing towards the door of the clubhouse, “After you.”

You laughed and shook your head as you walked, “And they say chivalry is dead.”

The two of you sat down across from each other at a table outside the clubhouse. It was nice to be out of the haze of body heat, smoke, and alcohol. Juice handed you a cigarette from his pack and lit it for you, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth the whole time. You shared a few moments of quiet, the only noise being the music drifting out from inside the clubhouse.

“So,” you looked over at him, “I gotta ask, how does a boy from Queens end up in a motorcycle club in fucking Charming?”

He laughed and shook his head, “A long string of questionable decisions,” he paused and took a drag from his cigarette and shrugged, “Was looking for some place to belong, and this fit the bill.”

You chuckled, “One of these days you’ll have to give me all the fun details of that. I missed out on a lot around here, apparently.”

“Apparently,” he smiled, “Where’d you run off to, anyway?”

You scoffed, shaking your head, “Doesn’t really matter, does it? Still ended up right back here.”

“How’d that happen?” he seemed genuinely interested.

You searched his face, trying to figure out how much you were willing to divulge. There were a lot of things that you weren’t ready to face yet, “I don’t think that anyone ever really gets out of Charming once they’re here,” you took a drag, praying for a shift in conversation.

He felt the coldness that was appearing to show in your tone. He let it drop, for now. He waited for you to meet his eyes and he smiled, “Well, if that’s the case, and you won’t be leaving any time soon, does that mean you’d be free for a drink sometime?”

The question stopped the downward spiral your brain was beginning to take you on. You looked over at him, trying to gauge just how serious he was with his inquiry. You weren’t in the mood to be anyone’s play-thing. You were more than just something to help pass the time.

“Maybe.”

He smiled, leaning his elbows onto the table, “Tomorrow?”

You laughed, “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

He shrugged, “Why wait?”

You sighed, feeling the persistence emanating from him. You let a small smile cross your face, “I’d be more than willing to get a drink with a friend tomorrow,” you looked at him, “I’m in no mood to get jerked around, Juice.”

You wondered if that grin was permanently etched into his features, “A drink with a friend sounds good.”

You drummed your fingers on the surface of the table, “I get off work at 5:30 tomorrow.”

“I know.”

You laughed, nodding, “Yea, that’s true.”

“Can I ask for your number? As a friend?”

Something about his smile was contagious, “Yea, as a friend,” you held your hand out for him to give you his phone, which he did gladly.  You handed it back when you were done, “I don’t want to be getting any late-night bail calls, okay?”

Before he could respond, Jax appeared behind you, resting his hand on your shoulder, “Thought you bailed without saying goodbye,” he laughed.

You looked up at him with a smile, “Nah, just getting some fresh air,” you stood up with a sigh, “Now that you mention it though I think I’m gonna head out,” you hugged him, “Tell Ope I said goodbye?”

He nodded, “Sure thing. See you at home.”

You walked around and rested your hand on Juice’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “See you tomorrow.”

Jax looked at Juice expectantly as he watched you walk away. He chuckled, lighting his own cigarette, “She’s gonna see you tomorrow?”

“Yea,” Juice shrugged, trying to contain his grin, “we all work together, right?”

“Right,” there was a hint of amusement in Jax’s voice, “Just be careful, Juicy Pants.”

If you had asked Juice, the next day seemed to drag on endlessly. Each time he’d walk across the compound he’d catch a glance of you in the office, and he instantly got the jitters. Five-thirty felt like it was forever away. A couple different times he caught a smack to the back of the head from one of the guys, telling him to focus or he wouldn’t be going anywhere with anyone anytime soon. You pretended not to notice the way that he’d linger for a few extra moments when he came to drop off paperwork for Gemma.

At five-thirty-one Juice came striding into the office, already changed out of his T-M shirt and into a regular t-shirt along with his kutte. You couldn’t help but to laugh as he leaned onto the desk, eyes alight with excitement.

“Come here often?” he said with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the laugh that was creeping up inside you, “Well, considering I work here? Yes.”

“Still up for a drink?”

You nodded, “Yea, sure. Just gotta finish filing a few things.”

You were expecting him to leave to wait, but he sat back in his chair contentedly. You chuckled to yourself as you wrapped up the last few things that you had to do for the day. When you started to gather up your purse and keys, Juice shot up out of his chair.

“You ready?”

You laughed, nodding, “Yea, are you?”

When the two of you walked out of the office, you turned to walk to the clubhouse, assuming that that’s where you were going to be grabbing your drink. But Juice reached out and lightly put his hand on your arm to stop you. You looked at him, a confused expression on your face.

He nodded towards his bike, “You up for a ride?”

You chuckled, nodding, “Sure. Where to?”

He shrugged, “Nowhere fancy,” he handed you his helmet, “Remember how this goes?”

You laughed, “Just worry about driving, Juice.”

You hopped on the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It had been a while since you rode on a bike, but it felt like home. You missed it. You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. He peeled out of the lot and you laughed as he sped down the street. Your heart was racing inside your chest, and for a few minutes you felt like a teenager again. You felt light as you wrapped your arms tighter around Juice’s middle.

He slowed down and pulled up against the sidewalk. You looked around, trying to figure out where exactly he was taking you. You had expected him to pull up to a bar, but there were none in sight. You let him help you off the bike and onto the sidewalk, looking around for a few more seconds before finally caving and asking where you were going.

“I thought we were going out for a drink?”

He smiled, “Yea, but we never specified what kind of drink,” he motioned for you to follow him and as you continued down the block you couldn’t help but to laugh. He proudly gestured towards the ice cream shop, “Best milkshakes in Charming!”

“Is the dairy competition fierce here?” you laughed as he held the door open for you and let you walk through first.

The two of you ordered at the counter and Juice told you to go grab a booth while he waited for your drinks. You had to admit that the entire outing caught you by surprise. It was a nice change of pace, and you could tell that Juice was incredibly proud of himself for thinking of it. He stuck out in the small shop because of his kutte and tattoos, but that almost made you love it more.

He sat down across from you and slid your drink over to you. You couldn’t help but to laugh as you took a sip through the straw, “I gotta admit, this is not what I was expecting.”

He smiled as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, “Good. I know being at the clubhouse can feel like…a lot.”

You smirked, “I didn’t expect to hear that from someone who’s actually in the club.”

He laughed, “I’m half the reason it can be a lot,” he paused, his expression getting a little more serious as he toyed with the straw in his drink, “But I could tell even last night that it was a bit much for you.”

“Oh could you?” you were trying to casually play it off but you did feel oddly seen as you sat across from him.

“Just had a feeling,” he said with a slight shrug.

You could see it in his eyes that he had a million questions that he wanted to ask you. You saw it, and you were ready to try and maneuver around each one if necessary. But, despite all of your preparation for conversational gymnastics, Juice actually asked you very few questions about you and your life. Your body was tense as you waited for them to come, but they didn’t. Instead, he told you stories of what had been happening with the guys and with Charming in the past few years. It was interesting, and comical for sure.

Juice knew exactly what he was doing. Despite the fact that he had so many questions to ask you, so many things that he wanted to know about you, he stopped himself. He saw the way you clammed up the night before and he knew that bombarding you with questions wasn’t going to make you want to let him in. So, he did what he considered to be the only alternative, and that was to let you in. He hoped that if he was open and honest with you that someday down the road you would be comfortable enough to return the favor. The longer he sat across from you and looked at you, the more he realized that he would tell you just about anything if you asked.

You lost track of how long the two of you had been sitting there. Your cups had been empty for a while and neither of you seemed to care, too wrapped up in conversation to notice. You only realized it when you caught the street lamps outside turning on. You turned and looked out the main windows, chuckling as you saw how it was now dark out.

“Sorry I took up your whole evening,” you said as you toyed with the cup in your hands.

“Don’t be sorry,” his response was quick, “This was…really nice. Thank you for coming with me.”

“Thanks for the milkshake,” you laughed.

On the ride back to T-M you felt like you were melting into Juice. He was fighting to stay focused on the road, but the warmth that was seeping from your body into his was hard to ignore. Your arms rested around his waist and all Juice could think about was that he never wanted you to let go. The ride back to the shop wasn’t nearly long enough.

You hopped off his bike once he stopped in the lot, handing him back his helmet with a smile, “Thanks for the ride.”

He smiled, “Any time.”

“You’re alright, Juan Carlos.”

He laughed, trying to hide the fact that hearing you say his name like that made his heart skip a few beats, “Thanks for the thrilling endorsement,” he paused, wanting to choose his words carefully, “If you ever want to do this again, lemme know.”

You smiled and nodded, “I will,” you stepped in and gave him a quick hug before heading to your car. Juice couldn’t help but to stare at you as you sauntered away.

You walked into the house and were met with silence. You let out a sigh as you toed off your shoes and headed back towards your temporary room. Just before you crossed the threshold, you heard Jax’s voice call out to you from down the hall.

You poked your head into his room to see him sprawled on his bed with the TV on, “What’s up?”

“How was your date with Juice?” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, “Wasn’t a date.”

“How was your platonic outing with Juice?”

You smiled, “It was fine. He seems nice. Had an awful lot to say about you boys and your antics.”

“Did he mention that he was the leader of nearly all of those antics?”

You chuckled, “It might’ve come up, yea.”

“Nice to see you makin’ friends, Y/N,” he looked over at you, “Maybe it’ll give you an extra reason to stick around this time.”

You shook your head, choosing not to respond to the comment, “Goodnight, Jackson.”

He laughed, “Goodnight.”

[writeforfandoms]

Shake, Rattle and Roll epilogue

My masterlist

Okay folks. This is later than I intended but uh life kicked me around a bit. Sorry. 

Also. Once you’ve read it. There is a possibility that I could do a sequel for this, if there’s interest. I know I left things unsolved (the actual original murder for one) and I know what happened and how and why, but there wasn’t a clean space to add it in, because life doesn’t always work that way. SO if you wanna know more, let me know! My ask box is always open to y’all. Also lmk if you want more because honestly? I could definitely be persuaded to write more. This is fun. 

Summary: A little bit of cleanup. Some sleep. Some coffee. Things will look better in the morning.

Warnings: Just swearing for this one, nothing terrible.

Tags: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @sarahjkl82-blog @giizhkens-cedar 

--

It didn’t take longer than an hour to get back to your apartment, all told. The three of you hadn’t stuck around long after making sure Inumon and Mikken were both dead. Cee had been a trooper, keeping up with you and not complaining once on the trip. You splurged for a private ride for a few reasons, one of which was that you simply really did not want to bother with public transit at this hour. It was late, later than you usually ventured out, and between the hour and the leftover adrenaline, you were a bit twitchy. Ezra, on the other hand, seemed cool as a cucumber. 

But once the three of you were in your apartment, you were half-way to collapsing, and Cee looked like she was hanging on by a thread.

“Sleep first,” you decided. “Planning tomorrow.” You pointed Cee sternly to the couch before you left to grab extra blankets and pillows for her.

“You sure it’s okay for me to stay the night?” Cee asked, sounding close to her age for the first time all night.

“I insist,” you told her firmly, handing her two pillows. “I’ve got more blankets if you need them, and you can borrow some clothes if you don’t want to sleep in those.”

“I’m okay for tonight,” Cee told you after a momentary pause. “Thank you.”

“Here.” You stepped into the kitchenette to grab her a glass of water. “Drink before bed or you’ll probably be dehydrated in the morning.”

Cee’s lips twitched but she took the glass. Probably just to appease you, but whatever, you’d take it. 

“I can find my own accommodations for the night,” Ezra offered.

“No, I’ve got a cot you can use,” you offered. “It’s not the most comfortable thing, but it’ll do.”

“It’ll do, indeed,” Ezra mused. “Very gracious of you.” 

You waved his thanks off, going back to the closet to grab the cot, and more pillows and blankets. Fortunately you were well stocked on those. Ezra helped, taking the cot from you and setting it up as you directed him. 

“Planning tomorrow,” you said again, looking between the two of them. Cee was already curled up under a blanket on the couch. “Sleep now, hopefully. When we’re all less tired.” 

“You’d do well to take your own advice, dove,” Ezra advised, glancing over at you from setting up the cot. “Get some water and sleep.”

You shot him a look, a little exasperated but mostly amused. You hesitated for a few moments, though. Did you bring up the kiss? Wait for him to bring it up? Then you made a face at yourself for acting like a kid with a crush and headed for your bedroom, more than ready to collapse. Everything would keep until tomorrow, of that you were certain. 

Despite being unused to having company, you fell asleep quickly and slept soundly. You woke to the smell of coffee, and rolled out of bed still a bit bleary. 

Cee and Ezra were both already awake. Cee was sitting on the couch cross-legged, while Ezra lounged against the counter. You looked at both of them briefly and then made for the coffee, hip-checking Ezra out of your way. 

“Good morning to you too, dove,” Ezra said, bright and amused.

“Coffee first,” you grumbled, getting down a mug. Coffee always came first.

“Coffee gremlin,” Cee said knowingly.

“The fuck, kid?” You half-turned to shoot her a betrayed look, to which she shot you a bright smile. Okay. Fine. Kid could make fun of you if she smiled like that. Fuck. You doctored your coffee how you liked it quickly, not bothering to move from where you were still right next to Ezra. He didn’t seem to mind, and it was your place, he could move if he wasn’t comfortable.

“So,” Cee started, looking at you briefly before suddenly finding the coffee table in front of her fascinating. “What now?”

You let out a breath, not quite a sigh. “What do you want? First and foremost.”

Cee considered for a few moments, letting the silence stretch. “I want to go to school.” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

“Okay,” you agreed easily, tamping down your anger. Damon was dead, your anger would do you no good. “School. That can be arranged.”

Her head popped up and she stared at you, painfully hopeful. “Seriously?”

“‘Course. I’ll work it out. I know some people.” You smiled at her, hoping you hid your pain well enough. This poor kid. She clearly wasn’t used to people standing in her corner. New mantra for the day: Damon’s already dead, don’t be mad at him. 

“I reckon I shall have to venture on to find my next job, as this one didn’t pan out,” Ezra said, though he was watching you. 

You snorted softly at that. “I might know a few people for that, too,” you admitted before you took a large sip of coffee. “I’ve made a few contacts over the years.”

Ezra blinked at you, momentarily stunned silent. Probably not used to people offering help, rather than bartering. Clear sign he’d spent too long on the Green Moon. 

“Right,” you muttered, shifting away from the counter and starting to pace, because you felt better thinking while moving, and this required some thinking. “Cee, we’re gonna have to go get some of your things. I’m assuming you have things you’d like to keep that aren’t currently with you?”

Cee nodded, hair bobbing around her until she pushed it behind her ears.

“Okay. That’s the top of the list. I can always send out a few feelers now, probably won’t hear back from anyone for a few hours at least. We should try to move quickly, I have no idea when that house will be discovered, or people will be noted as missing.” You took another sip of coffee, your mind whirring back to life. 

You were abruptly stopped in the middle of one of your circuits, Ezra grabbing you firmly. You squeaked and managed not to slosh coffee all over the two of you, even as he grinned.

“A more generous and selfless soul I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting,” he hummed, voice low, eyes bright. “You are a rare one indeed, dove.”

You blinked at him, flabbergasted, not quite sure how to respond to that. Which, of course, he took advantage of, and kissed you again. Your brain blanked out just as quickly as it had woken up. 

“As cute as you two are,” Cee interrupted after seconds? Minutes? Who the hell kept track of time anymore anyway. “There’s something I need to show you.”

You pulled back from Ezra with some reluctance and pointed a finger at him. “We’re revisiting this topic later.”

“Yes ma’am.” Ezra’s lips curled in a devious, smug smile. 

You swallowed hard and turned to Cee, watching as she dug something out of her pocket. She unfolded it on the coffee table, looking suddenly nervous. You drifted closer to look.

It was a map. A map of the Green Moon, if you weren’t mistaken. A map of the Green Moon with coordinates and a circled area. 

“Dad didn’t have the only copy of the map,” Cee told you, looking between you and Ezra. “I have one too.” 

Time stood still. You were frozen. You didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Just stared at the map. And then, slowly, you looked at Ezra. The look on his face scared you, just a little. He looked… well, he looked like a prospector presented with a map to possibly the biggest haul of aurelac ever seen. Hungry and greedy and a little awestruck. 

“Tomorrow,” you decided, shaking your head and putting your hand flat over the map, breaking the spell on the room. “That is now a tomorrow problem. We have more immediate problems to figure out first.” You shot Ezra a look that just dared him to disagree with you. But he simply nodded, leaning back, unwilling to argue over it. 

Good. You had enough problems for today that you needed to tackle. One last deep breath, and you left the two of them so you could start sending out messages. Today problems first. You could tackle the map problem tomorrow. Or later, if you could manage it. For today, Cee was your priority.