#he was making a lot of odd decisions around that time

[biibini]

Hi! I was wondering if you could try out headcanons for Modern Mizu, but Y/N would be a singer songwriter who like playing guitar and stuff lol, doesn't matter if Y/N would be famous or not, it's completely fine if it doesn't really fit your interests i had another writer try this out i just wanted to see your take on it because i love your writing style and how your portray Mizu <3

modern!mizu x singer!reader (request)

tags: reader in indie rock band, college!au, modern au, singer reader, banter banter banta, drinking, taigen being frat brother at sigma chi since that’s the modern equivalent of the shindo dojo, random bandmate names , mizu with pretty eyes, sweet modern mizu i just love her sm

a/n: thank u to those who voted! i was struggling how to write this since i’ve seen a lot of bassist!mizu. i’ve never been asked the reverse :0

singer!reader is a part of an indie rock band called across oceans at mizu’s college. the title is a loose term, but you make it work.

mizu never heard of her or her band until ringo and akemi brought mizu to another typical “rager” (coined by taigen). she knows what typically happens at these parties, the usual frat dj aka a glorified person on aux, people drunk dancing, someone playing fein or mo bamba that gets the house shaking. what mizu doesn’t expect is an actual band: drums, keyboard, bassist, and a very pretty girl on the mic.

singer!reader didn’t expect this gig to ever follow through. it was the first time a frat brother asked for you to play, especially from sigma chi, one of the biggest fraternity houses on campus. it was an odd request when one of your band members brought it up, but nonetheless, your band accepted. a gig is a gig and if was better than some random stage.

“So you’re telling me, our next gig, could probably potentially be Sigma Chi? The Sigma Chi?”, you question, appalled with the request.

Sigma Chi was a completely different demographic from your usual sets. You didn’t play any popular songs besides an Artic Monkey, Her’s or a TV Girl song here and there.

Your keyboardist shrugs, “Look, a guy in my class asked me if I was a part of Across Oceans and if we could play at their next party. Apparently, it was one of the brother’s girlfriend’s birthday that night, and they’re more into indie pop and rock so…”

“Who was the guy anyway?”, your drumist interrupted.

“Some guy named Tiger or Tyler Ren, I don’t know.”

You huffed in frustration.

A small band such as yours don’t really have the best turn outs at your college, unless a lot of people you know come and bring their best energy in support.

Why waste time for a bored audience?

“Point is, we have a gig and they’re paying well.”

“How well?”, you asked, debating whether or not to take the unusual gig.

It couldn’t be that high, right?

“Better than the Four Fangs Bar.”, he answered.

Your eyes widen as your guitarist whistle to the number. Never knew frats threw money around like that.

You leaned back in your chair, anticipating your bandmates’ reactions. You weren’t opposed, but… pay is pay, right?

At this time, you guys are typically practicing a new song or hashing out an upcoming setlist. Instead, silence fills the room, all band members in thought. You hear the quiet hum of the A/C mixes with the murmurs from students in the hallway, waiting for any objections.

“Fuck it, let’s do the gig.”, you announce.

singer!reader isn’t the official leader… but when the rest of the members can’t make a decision, they end up turning to you as the decision maker.

singer!reader , the main singer and songwriter of the band. it gets difficult balancing school and this, but you make it work with your schedule. besides, what’s better than the flow of your voice playing along to the strums of your guitar?

singer!reader ‘s band name originates from the fact that your bassist, Paul, and keyboardist, Janine, were international students: one from across the pacific, and the other across the atlantic. regardless of their origin, they were one of the best players your drumist, Owen, found.

the night of the gig, singer!reader and your bandmates meet the host, a frat brother named taigen. he’s nice and welcoming. was he a little egotistical? maybe. but was he just happy to help a brother? yeah, even if they didn’t know too many of your songs… or the genre itself…

however, they do request a song, his friend’s girlfriend’s favorite song: lover’s rock by tv girl. across oceans has basically perfected that song due to it being a popular request.

“Could you play my girlfriend’s favorite song?”, the frat brother asks.

You nod, “Sure, what song is it?”

“Lover’s Rock by TV Girl? Did I get the name right?”

You hear your band members sigh. The one song they know all too well.

“Did I get it wrong? Bro, I’m so sorry-”

“No no no, it’s fine.”, you interject, “It’s perfect! We have that song down.”

“For real bro?“, he says in awe.

“For. Real.”, your Janine answers, putting an open hand in front of the frat brother.

You watch the guy go in for a dap up, patting your Janine’s back a little too hard. He pulls back and waves goodbye.

“I’m so hyped, bro. Let’s go Across Oceans!”, he yells as he goes inside the house.

You hear your drumist, Owen, scoff, teasing your band member, “Let’s set up, bruh.”

“Hey! Without me, we wouldn’t be here!”, she objects.

“He’s right, sorry bro.”, you tease back at him.

“Hey!”

as the party starts, singer!reader plays some more popular indie songs along the realms of beebadobee, the marias, mac de marco, clairo, etc. it’s not so bad, considering that the students are actively cheering and whistling after every song.

your band plays along with the positive energy of the crowd, as some drunk people sing along, jump to the beat, even scream the lyrics with singer!reader. it’s such a blast being able to relay the same vibe with an interactive crowd, despite the amount of alcohol they’ve consumed.

singer!reader may have also consumed a cup or two of beer, kudos to taigen for keeping the band “hydrated”.

with every song that played, singer!reader watches the house’s backyard fill up, almost to the brim. watching a sea of partygoers vibe to the songs satisfied you, hell, it energized you to keep singing, despite the slight slur of your words.

as singer!reader watched the crowd, a few have stood out. there’s always the usual non-listener here and there, a couple or two pairs making out by the house walls, and the one that’s typically wannabe-cool and nonchalant.

now those type of people are the best to watch, slowly get their attention with eye-contact as you finding the right song to play, hoping to get them further interested.

and singer!reader did spot one of those in the crowd, whilst playing looking out for you again by joy again. you don’t remember recalling her name, yet she looked so familiar.

“It’s just the way you’re glancing at me…”, you sing into the mic, hoping to get another sight of the girl again.

“Something about you just makes me feel guilty for liking you…”

You finally spot her far in the back with her raven hair up in a bun, standing next to a guy, much bigger than her and completely jamming out to your band. On the other hand, she’s just blankly staring, carefully watching your performance, as her hands are in her navy jacket’s pockets.

“When you’re with him…”

You make eye-contact with the girl again, getting a chance to look at her features more. You watch as the little curl of the strand of her dark jet-black hair waving against the breeze.

“When you’re with him.”

The way her eyes glisten a deep ocean blue from absurd amount of fairy lights a frat house can put up keeps your attention on her, never wavering.

“This is a long song for a girl who will never know its about her,”

She smiles gently, close enough to notice but too far for you to call out. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. You tell your mind to blame it on the alcohol.

“I know it’s pretty stupid, but I’m much too shy to tell her…

A soft grin stays on her face, now fully listening to your singing. Her blue eyes fixate on yours, never breaking the connection. You wouldn’t admit it on stage, but god it felt good getting their attention.

“She’s beaming with that smile, all the while…”

You smile back, nodding to the rhythm.

God, you could get lost in those eyes.

Thin, soft, yet filled with so much depth the more you stare into the ocean blue orbs.

“I’m all choked up on my own throat,”

You watch her head mimic yours, her little curl bopping along to the music.

“I guess there is noooo hope.”

singer!reader ‘s band takes a break, letting the member’s fight who wants control of the aux. you let them beef.

on the other hand, singer!reader needed to find that girl, stat. red solo cup in hand, you rush to where you last saw her but found no traces. that is, until, you spot her alone in the kitchen.

“You go to these often?”, you say, getting her attention.

She walks closer to you, leaning on the kitchen counter next to you, as people start to fill the kitchen. She shrugs, sipping on the bright blue liquid in her cup. You also sip on your cup, drinking up the mysterious alcohol.

“It’s not my usual scene. My friends kinda, uh, dragged me here.”, she said.

“Ah… I see.”, you say as you looked down into your cup, hiding your gaze from the girl.

You don’t know what was poured in your cup, but it needed to hit you in the head right now.

“But I really liked your set.”, she says, while your head peeps up.

“It’s not the usual stuff they play here, but I’m sure it was because of Ise.”

“That’s the name of the birthday girl?”

Her eyes widened, dryly laughing at your response,“You didn’t know??”

“She didn’t ask us! Her boyfriend’s friend asked us to come here. He was practically begging.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. We thought he was pranking us or something. His name was like, Tiger Ren, or something like that.”

“Ok, you’ve got to be pranking me.”, she jokingly accuses you, chuckling at the accusation.

“I swear I’m not! I promise!”, you defend yourself, pulling your free hand up as if you got caught red handed.

The blue-eyed girl inches closer to you, smiling as she whispers in your ear, “I know Taigen and he’d rather kill himself than beg.”

Her breath tickles your ear, smiling along as well. You pull her closer, her arm next to yours, as if to share a forbidden secret.

“Well, I’m glad he didn’t jump.”

Both of you laugh together, side by side, shoulders against one another. You feel the warmth of the alcohol heat up your face, making you feel light and giggly. You lean on the counter to stay stable.

“I guess you learn something new everyday.”, you laugh. You tell her your name.

You watch her lean close to your ear again, her pink lips inches away from touching your flushed cheek.

“I guess you really do. My name is Mi-”

You hear your name get called out from the backyard.

“It’s birthday song time!”, Owen called out.

Shit.

“I’ll be out there in a sec!”

“I gotta get back up there but I’ll see you around, Miiii?”

“Mizu.”

“See you, Mizu!”

You push yourself out of the crowded kitchen yelling, “Who’s ready to sing for the birthday girl?”

The whole room cheers in unison, pushing themselves outside with you.

singing happy birthday to a half drunk sorority girl and an even drunker pack of sorority sisters and brothers was a sight to see. after playing another set, your band packs up for the night.

singer!reader never got anything besides a name: mizu. after ise’s birthday bash, your band got very popular with the frats and other clubs that filled your schedule with gigs and performances. excited, you took them all.

with every college gig you played at, you always noticed the same blue-eyed girl at the back, the little curl in her bangs bouncing to rhythm. with every break, you would find the chance to talk to her again.

with every break, singer!reader relished in the small talks you would have with mizu about school, life, new songs, anything. every conversation was physically close, every touch fluttering your heart, the red in your cheeks flaring up.

singer!reader blamed it on the alcohol and hope mizu doesn’t see through it.

singer!reader and mizu swap spotifys, sharing music and playlists mixed with each of your own tastes.

Mizu 🎧

do you have spotify?

yeah

wsp?

[Invite Link to Create a Blend]

you should click on this hehe

istg if u dox me…

aw u dont trust me ?? :(

no.

boooooo 👎🍅

besides being a supporter of your sets, singer!reader finds herself asking mizu and some friends to come over and watch across oceans rehearse so everything sounds clear and perfect, especially before a big party. it usually goes well for the most part, except the instances when you get a glimpse of mizu and forget a lyric or two. its typically paired with banter between your band mates.

You hear your keyboardist, Janine, groan your name.

“Girl, the lyrics!”

“Sorry!”

The blood rushes to your cheeks, showing off your embarrassment.

“It’s okay, I think I was off-key anyways.”, your bassist, Paul, claims. He starts fine-tuning his bass, focusing on the instrument. As for you, you look back on the lyrics online, hoping to ingrain the words before this week’s gig.

Fortunately, it was another high paying gig from a sorority. Unfortunately, they were requesting Chappell Roan and there were barely any sheet music for her songs, let alone her song Casual.

“Okay, gameplan. We finish the main chorus done and we can finish the final bridge and outro tomorrow.”, you claim.

Your band agrees.

“Just remember, it’s two ‘Is it casual now?’ and then its the duplicates.”, your keyboardist stresses.

“Yes Janine, we know you love her.”, Owen sighs.

“No hard feelings to Y/N, I just wanted to set the record straight.”, Janine protests, reading her hands on the keys.

You hear Paul scoff, “As if you are.”

Janine’s jaw drops, shocked as if Paul just dropped a bomb on her face.

“Says you, you fruit!”

“What did you just call me??”

“You heard me!”

“Hey!”, you interject, clapping your hands together, “You guys can have a fruit-off after this. Let’s just get this done please.”

singer!reader is thankful that despite their attitudes, they get along with banter and forgiveness at the end of the day.

singer!reader deep down hopes that they don’t kill each other about being called a fruit (fingers crossed).

singer!reader also finds herself inviting mizu over a few times for a listening party aka you writing and practicing songs while she actively listens, maybe critiques, or simply be there doing homework together

singer!reader is surprised to find more people asking if the band played x song or y song. although most requests come from popular songs, you implement a few into the rehearsal mix.

after finishing a set at one of taigen’s so-called ragers, your band packs up for the dj coming soon. although this meant the end of your set, taigen agreed that the band should stay afterwards and enjoy the party while it lasted. it was before midterms after all.

once your band finished packing up the equipment into your keyboardist’s van, the four of you were left with a decision: stay at the party or leave. as nice as it is for taigen to invite you guys back to play, it was getting late and your drumist had a shift tomorrow morning.

until you hear janine call your name from the van.

“Are you heading home too?”, you pout, cup in hand.

“Yeah, I figured your girlfriend wants to talk with you again.”, Janine giggles.

“For the last time, Mizu’s just a friend!”

“And I’m totally not delusional!”, Paul teases, mocking your voice.

You laugh nervously, checking your surroundings for any sight of her. After the set, you know she tends to disappear into the kitchen or a hallway upstairs.

“Anyways, lover girl, we’ll let you shoot your shot.”

“I-“

“Ah ah ah,” Janine waves a finger in front of you as she starts the car, “Don’t miss!”

singer!reader tries to find her at her usual spot in the kitchen. you end up finding her on a balcony upstairs, overseeing the houses next to the frats. only a dim porch light reveals mizu’s shadow, quietly sipping a drink in her cup.

“There you are.”, you greet, sliding open the balcony door.

“Heyy.”, Mizu greets back, softly smiling at you.

“You weren’t in the kitchen like you always are.”

“Just felt like getting fresh air. Some peace and quiet from the noise.”

You chuckle as you hear the rhythm and bass of the DJ set vibrate the house.

“I don’t blame you.”

You look out, swishing your cup with whatever mixer Ise poured in your cup. You’re unsure but you take a sip, hoping it’s strong enough to keep you sane around Mizu.

After many gigs, you’ve seen her and met with her, talking in between sets, and after sets before you leave. Although it’s short and sweet, you can’t help wanting to know more. Unintentionally, the thought of her consumes your mind: the way her voice gets raspy after a drink or two as you talk about your favorite artists, her touch behind your back when you’re trying to get out of a packed room, the way her eyes seem to shine sapphire every time you locked eyes with her while you’re playing.

Unfortunately, your band members weren’t complete idiots and tease you at every college gig. They come from a good place, but your mind can’t stop thinking about her voice when you’re trying to focus on writing a new song.

You try to drown your busy mind with another sip. The liquid goes down smooth with a peach aftertaste.

“Oh god, did they put soju in this?”, you cry out.

“Maybe. You know how Ise likes her drinks.”

You stare at your cup, the liquid filling to the halfway point. Mizu puts down hers on the table, holding onto something that crumples from her grasp.

Mizu steps closer to you and hands you a small bouquet of tulips, a delicate mix of pinks, whites, and reds tied together with newspaper. Its barely visible but Mizu’s hand was shaking from the nerves. And maybe a little wobbly from the alcohol.

“For your successful set and for surviving midterms as well.”

In shock, you accept the gesture, letting her place the bouquet in your hands. It smells so sweet, a contrasting smell from the puffs of nicotine, sweet, and strong alcohol downstairs. It was the first time you’ve received flowers on the behalf of your band’s talent and success, let alone, surviving school.

“Mizu, this is so sweet. You didn’t have to.”, you say, looking down at the flowers. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, tinting them red. Thankfully, it’s barely visible from the dim lighting.

“I wanted to. Because… well…”

“Because?”

“I… um…”, she stammered,

You hear the rhythm of her breath quicken. You look up to find her inches away, biting the inner corner of her lip, her eyes finding the right words.

You pull a hand out to Mizu’s arm, comforting her.

“It’s okay, Mizu, thank you for—”

“Sorry, I just… can’t stop watching you when you perform.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”, you slip out,

Both of you look at each other with a stunned look, dumbfounded at both of your tipsy confessions.

Mizu pulls you close, moving the bouquet out of the way, as her lips are merely inches away from yours. You were fine with the closeness when it came to whispering, but this was different.

“May I?”

You nod, as the gap closed between the two of you. The taste of peach hits your lips, as you feel the softness of her lips push against yours.

Mizu pulls back, her breath staggering against yours. You place your cup to the side before reaching for her cheek, pulling her even closer to you, sealing the gap with a kiss once again.

You thank Ise for whatever shot(s) of liquid courage she put in both of your drinks.

[burtlancster]

they loved dyeing his hair this fuckass awful color in the late 60s/early 70s why is it the brassiest brown known to man slap some toner on there or something it’s too conspicuous a color for blondie

[lemonlover1110]

𝐎𝐝𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: Zayne wants to fulfill your odd request.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I want a baby.” Is a request that makes Zayne’s eyebrows perk up. An odd request coming from you. To him, it feels out of nowhere since he’s never noticed you take interest in kids. 

Zayne is not the type of man to miss any details about you, so this is coming out of nowhere. He’s been caught up in the hospital lately, so perhaps something happened the past few days. It’s still a very big decision, one that he wants you to ponder on.

It’s a very big decision that he wants you to reflect on, after all, bringing a child into the world is no small feat. He doesn’t want you to change your mind once it’s too late… Perhaps that’s what he should’ve considered before letting you under him. He should’ve opened his mouth before letting you get too close. A simple look, one soft touch– That’s all he needs to do anything you want him to.

“It’s so fucking good!” You’re practically yelling as he thrusts in and out of you. Your back is on the bed, legs on his shoulders as he relentlessly fucks your cunt.

You’re stuffed with his cum, but Zayne needs to continue fucking you. He’s looking down at the way your pussy wraps around him, taking every inch like a good girl.

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, holding on to your hips for support. He’s noticed that he can fuck you so deep in this position, and it’s easily become one of his favorites. He rarely curses, but he can’t help but mutter out a few curses from how good he feels around your cunt, “Fuck…”

Your hands grip the bed sheets, eyes rolling to the back of your head as pleasure runs through your body. You’ve always had great sexual chemistry with your husband, but the moment you asked for a baby something changed. It flipped a switch that you absolutely adore. He’s fucking you with a purpose.

“You’re gonna look so perfect carrying my baby.” Zayne mutters as one hand goes down to play with your clit. You loudly moan his name over and over again as he makes a mess out of you. “Please make me a daddy, baby. Please, please, please.”

You’ve never heard Zayne so needy before. The idea of getting you pregnant is clearly turning him on. The neighbors can surely hear how loud you’re being, but shame walked out of the door after the first round.

“Zayne–” You begin to squeeze around him as pleasure consumes you. The senseless talk that leaves his lips only works you up more. 

“Need to knock you up. You’re going to look so beautiful.” He’s groaning. He’s shutting his eyes, unable to bear the feeling. It’s too much for him to handle, you just feel so nice and tight around him, “Need to see you pregnant with my baby.”

Your back is arching as your climax approaches. Zayne is hitting all the right spots, which is driving you wild. He’s moaning your name over and over again.

Your breath gets caught up in your chest as your orgasm washes over you. His thrusts begin to get sloppy, knowing that he’s not going to last much longer.

“Fuck, I’m gonna knock you up.” He mutters. He throws his head back, his thrusts slowing down as he releases his seed inside you. He’s pumping you full of his cum, and your cunt milks him for every drop of it. Because it is a lot. Zayne comes so much inside of you.

It’s the third time in the night. Zayne pulls out of you, and lays down beside you. His fingers are pushing his cum back inside of you. You’re both panting, catching your breaths.

He’s already thinking about fucking you again, but before anything else he has the audacity to ask,

“Are you sure you want a baby?”

You chuckle.

“I’m sure I’m already pregnant.”

[thesilmarillionblog]

STRANGER

Summary: Although you were always aware that Black Noir was silent, it didn't stop you from quickly developing a bond. However, as soon as he touches you when he gets home, something about him feels off. You ignore his attitude since it still feels so nice, despite the fact that it feels like he is someone else entirely, a stranger.

Pairing: Black Noir / Reader

Warnings: Dark Fiction!, +18!Only, Smut, Suspense

Word Count: 2423

A/N: English is not my first language.

You asked Homelander and Ashley if Noir had been assigned to another mission because you were getting frustrated that he had not texted you back for days and had suddenly vanished. You were relieved when they informed you he had a lot on his plate, but you were also annoyed because it wasn't like him to ignore you or return your texts. One of his great virtues was that he would always text you back, even when you believed he was going to rip a head off during those missions.

Though you knew he couldn't talk which was a big obstacle for a healthy conversation, you moved his house months after you started dating without a second thought. You weren't in the slightest disturbed by that. Since actions speak louder than words, it was actually preferable if men said nothing at all. And Noir certainly knew how to express his affection for you.

You giggled uncontrollably at the memory of his adorable actions toward you. Even though he appeared tough and ruthless when wearing that black suit, he was always warm and affectionate with you. He was regarded by the world as one of the most formidable, vicious, and dangerous supe alive, yet you were aware of his extreme thoughtfulness and sensitivity, particularly with regard to his relationship with you.

No matter how much you wanted to see him, you didn't push him, even if he didn't take off his mask or suit at all while you were around. You knew he was extremely sensitive about how he looked and everything. When he finally trusted you enough to show himself to you, you knew he would eventually open himself up. 

You made the decision to dress elegantly and boldly for his gaze when he eventually texted you back to say he would be home tonight. You knew he liked you in short, lace-covered satin gowns. It had been nearly two weeks since he returned home, and you were aware that he missed you just as much as you did. 

It was when he eventually came home, after you had been waiting for him for hours with your dress on and messaging him nonstop, that you understood how much you liked him. You couldn't help but think about him and grin to yourself at all of your adorable times together when he acted a little goofy and awkward.

As he slowly made his way inside the home, you said, “Hey,” and gave him a quick hug. "Welcome home."

Noir offered you a strong hug in return and nodded as if he wanted to say the same thing. You then landed a firm kiss through his mask and said, “I've missed you too.”

As Homelander and Vought cautioned him not to talk, especially when you were around, Black Noir tried his hardest to remain silent. It was told to him that you were Noir's partner, and since Vought already had too much on its plate these days, it would be best if you didn't realize he wasn't the real Noir. He didn't mind you acting like your adorable, naive lover since he had seen your pictures and the way you texted him as though you were in heat, making it obvious that you wanted to be fucked till you were unable to walk.

As a result, he would enjoy the ride as well, providing for your needs in the manner that was expected of him. When they showed your picture, he didn't really care about Vought and all that, but now he thought it would be fun because you seemed so eager to please him with that slutty, lovely fucking dress. 

You said, “How went?” as if he could respond, but it didn't feel strange for you to remain silent. If one of you stayed quiet the entire time, it would be odd.

Noir kept himself from talking and instead studied your body and outfit with fascination, which made you chuckle. As though you could see him, he turned out the lamp, and you didn't object, supposing it was just one of his insecure times. 

You sat on his lap and softly touched his covered face before responding with a whispered “Why the hell you didn't text me back for days?” in an attempt to sound like a mad woman. “You didn't behave like that before, you know.” 

Under his mask, Noir gave you a mischievous smile as his hands boldly stroked your body, growing harder every second as he saw your nipples peek from your thin dress, giving the impression that you wanted a quick and brutal fuck. 'Who would have thought that mission would be so hot and delightful?' he thought as his gloved hand squeezed your hips until you nearly moaned with pain. He was touching your pussy firmly and passionately, making it wet. 

You removed the stupid plastic item covering his cock with your hands and began slowly grinding against his clothed shaft while moaning, “You're such a turn-on today? Did you really miss fucking me that much?”

Noir gulped down, and as you kept continuing to moan and gasp loudly, one of his hands tightly pinched your tits. “Did you miss filling me with your hot seed into my pussy? When you finally texted me back today, I fingered myself while thinking about your huge cock.”

The filth flowing from your lips made him extremely hard, and once he filled up your dress, he gave your ass a hard spank. 

You groaned in protest when he abruptly lifted you off his lap. He forced you to your knees before you could say anything, gripping your hair firmly as he struggled to get his cock out of his suit. He stretched his legs and drew your head toward himself while you were kneeling in front of him on the edge of the bed. You were taken aback by his sudden harshness and passion because you had never sucked him off before. Maybe the fact that you hadn't fucked in weeks was the reason he was feeling so kinky this evening.

Excitement filled your body as you waited for him to finally reveal his cock. Before you could even say anything, he pushed your head against his cock, forcing you to suck him. 

Noir made a determined attempt to stop himself from giving you orders to properly suck him off and wet his dick as your tongue quickly lapped the tip of his shaft. As you gave him a head, he grabbed one of your hands and put it on his cock, urging you to use your hands. 

“You're so thick, you know, it's hard to take it all,” you remarked as you placed your hands on his balls and sucked the sensitive head of his thick cock. “You taste so good.”

Noir let out a soft and low chuckle as you did your best to satisfy him and make him cum. You were such a good cocksucker it was disappointing he couldn't give you any compliments. He smiled thinking about how would your boyfriend respond seeing you sucking a stranger’s cock so eagerly.

When you swallowed his head, he moaned angrily, as you were only able to take half of his cock. He took hold of your hair and began giving you hard pushes until your nose touched his pubic hair. 

When he began to fuck your face, you attempted to pull away as his hands applied heavy pressure to your head until the tip of his cock touched your throat and tears streamed down your cheeks. He was always extremely particular about being clean and well-groomed, so when you saw he didn't shave, you were somewhat taken aback. He made you take up every inch of his hardness, pushed your head into his balls, and waited till you tapped his legs in an attempt to regain your breath. 

After he finally released your head a bit, you muttered, “You're extremely rough tonight.”

Even though he was harsh, you were so attracted to his behavior that you began to suck him the way he preferred, taking his entire shaft and rubbing his balls, wetting them with your saliva.

You pushed yourself to get him to cum in your mouth as soon as you sensed him getting closer.

You teased him, “Where do you want to cum?” as you continued to stroke his throbbing erection.

Noir slowly withdrew his cock from your lips, stilled your head, and began to fuck into your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock on your tongue so you could taste its salty essence. He was savoring the facial expressions you made and your sensual groans, and he growled with pleasure as he thought he was fucking real Black Noir's girlfriend's mouth and he was about to fuck his girlfriend's pussy. 

He removed his cock from your mouth and stroked your lips and cheeks with his cock while holding it as if he were fucking your face. After some time, he stopped wanting to cum in your mouth or on your face. 

When you attempted to put him in your mouth again, he growled in disapproval and threw you into the bed while trying to help you get up. With a swift and forceful motion that left you gasping in dismay, he forced your face against the mattress and tore off your underwear quickly. 

Although you weren't prepared for him to behave in this manner, you waited for him to lead you in the direction he wanted since you were eager to please him and you were already turned on by him. 

Noir stretched your legs apart and checked the intensity of the wetness by sticking two fingers inside your pussy. He groaned in satisfaction as he saw that you had already gotten wet, and he removed his meaty fingers with ease. 

You let out a loud cry and pushed him to move more quickly as he roughed you with his fingers. You let out a cry of pleasure as soon as you began to clench around his fingers. Once your climax subsided, he pulled you more into the sheets, thinking that this would be the time when he would finally turn you back and act a little more romantically. You let him have his fun, figuring he wanted to play hard this evening. 

Noir played with your clit from behind, taking his throbbing manhood into his fingers and giving himself short, rapid strokes. Upon realizing that you were anticipating his fuck with your legs apart, he gasped with delight. 

Breathless, you gasped as he began to press his shaft into your wetness. His gloved hands gripped your hips firmly as he began a quick and violent fuck. His big balls were slamming into your clit, producing obscene noises that filled the room. 

You were gasping out and raising your hips to meet his strong thrusts as Noir's hardness throbbed into your pussy. He pounded into you with powerful strokes, gripping your hair and pulling it while you clutched the sheets beneath your fingers under his instense fuck. 

You whined, “Fuck, you are so good,” your eyes welling up with tears due to the intensity of the moment. “Fuck me harder.” 

Under the mask, Noir grinned at your filthy actions and the way you urged a total stranger to give you more fucking, like a whore. He began fucking you from behind even more forcefully after pulling off your hair. You were screaming like a bitch in heat, and you had no idea that you were fucking a stranger. He thought you were a free chick for him to enjoy himself to the fullest. He would count himself fortunate.

Sensing his approaching closeness, he moved slightly and reached your sweet spot, giving you multiple orgasms before spilling inside of you. Your legs trembled wildly as you clamped around his cock after he found your sensitive spot and gave you an aggressive fuck there. Your pussy felt so sensitive that you tapped his legs to get him to slow down, but instead he fucked you even harder and struck the same area repeatedly, leaving you speechless. 

“Fuck, Noir,” was the only thing you could say. “It feels sensitive.” 

But instead of slowing down, he continued to fuck you through your climax until he made you cum on his cock once more. Your legs were shaking, and you were screaming his name in between endless orgasms. He was forcing himself not to laugh out loud while you kept orgasming under a stranger.

He pushed all of his length into your pussy and began spilling himself into you as he continued to fuck you after he decided you had come on his cock enough. You again clenched around his cock as his thick white ropes filled your insides. When he felt your pussy continued to clench around his shaft with eagerness, and he moaned with satisfaction. It seemed to him that you were a needy one, and he would be thrilled to give what you needed.

Your legs continued to shake as you felt his thick seed leaking out of your pussy, and you grinned and bit your lip, satisfied. You felt a deep sense of satisfaction, and you had no idea that you could get so many orgasms so quickly. Noir did give you a hard fuck during certain times, but that was the first time he used such force on you and ignored your boundaries, of which you were glad. You felt that he ought to have revealed more of his personality sooner. 

Noir met your tongue, palmed your pussy from behind, and put his weight on your back. He pulled his mask halfway to give you a firm kiss, you realized.

You gasped in horror as his lips found your ear, and he whispered into the darkness, “Not bad, darling.”

[lightnersdream]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀౨౿  ׅ ۟   ֪ 𝓢ecrets 𝓐nd 𝓣emptations ۪ ׂ   𓈒 ୭

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ professor!miguel 𝓍 professor!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. it was just a stupid party. drink, flirt, and gossip. you weren’t expecting to have a one nightstand with a charming, mysterious man. you also weren’t expecting he is the newly hired professor at the same university you teach at.

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. college!au, strangers to enemies (sorta) to lovers, tension, angst, smut, protected sex, fem oral, confessions, jealousy, swearing, pet names, hispanic/latina!reader ( mdni )

ׄ   ׅ ྀ 𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝓝𝐎𝐓𝐄. i had lots of fun writing this, definitely another fav of mine. kudos to @lazyjellyfish300 for the wrist kissing scene because of her post. thanks for the inspo, queen! ♡

enjoy yourself tonight.

that’s what your friends told you.

despite your many objections, they dragged your ass to a party. a friend of a friend is throwing it. not wanting to be a complaining bitch, you suck it up and tag along. a basic mini dress and matching heels. nothing too extra, just simple.

the minute you arrive there, you want to leave. you don’t know anyone but you’re two friends, lyla and felicia. the best decision is to stick by their side. unfortunately, felicia is flirting with some tall light brunette skinny guy. he isn’t that attractive but everyone has their own taste. lyla, on the other hand, immediately heads over towards the food. she’s a big eater, already stuffing her mouth with appetizers.

a sigh escapes your lips. left all alone.

so much for enjoying yourself. your friends ditched you and you don’t know a single soul here so how the hell can you enjoy yourself tonight?

the only thing to enjoy is “double fantasy” by the weeknd playing through the speakers.

with nothing much else to do, you stumble towards the bar. you kindly ask the bartender for a modelo. the look he gives you says you picked an odd choice out of all options but shrugs it off and fetches your requested drink. you resist rolling your eyes.

fucking dick, you thought to yourself.

it’s been 10 minutes and you haven’t received your corona. your brows furrowed in confusion.

“excuse me?” you call out to the bartender, who’s dealing with other customers. of course the bastard didn’t hear you over the loud ass music. another sigh falls from your lips. “excuse me, sir?” you wave.

that finally got his attention but his slightly annoyed expression caught you off guard.

what’s this dude’s deal?

“you forgot my modelo.” you tell him, trying to be polite, maintaining your attitude.

he turns around and grabs it from the shelf.

it was there so easy to grab yet took him 10 minutes? he was just straight up ignoring you.

“sorry.” the bastard mutters without eye contact then walks away to tend other customers.

now you roll your eyes. “cabrón.” you mutter, grabbing the bottle and take a sip of the drink.

turning around, you scan the area. half talking on the sidelines and half on the dance floor. your eyes widen when you find felicia making out with that same guy. welp, at least she’s having a great time. you shrug it off with another sip of your modelo. glancing around, you begin feeling like an outcast. your fingers clench the glass bottle, holding it to your chest. standing there awkwardly as everyone else has fun.

instead of glancing around like a weirdo, you wander around the place. passing by all types of people you’re not familiar with. trying not to bump into someone, especially a drunk idiot.

with your social battery running low, or basically not in the mood to deal with people, you find a secluded space where not much people are. away from the dumb party. you stare out at the view, the gorgeous city of nueva york from a rooftop.

just a moment of solitude.

a delicious fresh breeze flows by, making you close your eyes to relish the refreshing air.

“escaping from the chaos?”

a baritone voice form behind makes your while around, startling you a bit.

a man, tall and broad. clad in all black. dress shirt, slacks, and oxfords. brown curls slicked back. a simple silver necklace dangling around his neck. a matching silver watch that was obviously expensive. his right hand holding a small glass.

utterly handsome, definitely your type. you only like brunettes. what caught your eye are those sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. so perfect and sharp, slide your finger along them and you’ll get a paper cut. firm, masculine facial features.

“parties aren’t really my forte.” the lack of enthusiasm in your voice says it all.

“you’re not alone.” he walks forward, walking up beside you. “they aren’t mine either.” he stares out at the view, taking a sip of his beverage.

you observe him with curious eyes. turning around so you’re facing the view again. only this time you have company. strangely enough, you don’t mind. you get a good whiff of his cologne. damn, he smells good.

you also realize exactly how tall this man is. way over a foot taller than you. perhaps two feet taller.

“suppose we’re the outsiders.” you joke.

“like the book?” he muses.

you quirk a brow, intrigued by his reference. “i guess so, classic book and movie.”

“agree.” the man hums.

a beat passed by before he speaks again. however, his next few words surprises you.

“i have to confess, i noticed you earlier.” he admits. “you caught my eye. i just had the urge to talk to you, as strangely as it sounds. which i apologize for.” he quickly adds that last phrase.

you gaze up at him. intrigued by his interest in you. it was foreign to you since you’ve only been on a few dates but never led to anything serious. or a man confessing wholeheartedly of their interest.

you notice his slight tensed expression when you don’t respond. the air got tensed as well.

“miguel o’hara.” he quickly introduces himself, extending his free hand for you to shake.

you finally respond with your name as you gently shake his hand. taking mental note of his engulfs yours completely. damn, they’re really huge. you make sure to not ogle at them.

“so what brings you here?” you decide to initiate a proper conversation. your interest in this man slowly grows. his mysterious aura is so alluring.

“mutual friend of the party owner. didn’t want to come but was forced to anyways.”

your brows raised in surprise. “in the same boat. i was dragged here then left like getting dropped off at daycare.” you take a sip of your drink.

that earns you a light snort from the tall man. “doesn’t seem like true friends.”

you shrug. “they’re great, just spending time with things they love. men and food.”

miguel’s head tilts a little, one thick brow quirk up. “what do you love?”

the question caught you off, definitely wasn’t expecting nor know how to answer. what do you love? it’s complicated, despite how simple it sounds.

“solitude. being alone is comforting.” your gaze returns to the view, away from his for a moment.

“i guess i ruined that comfort.”

you lightly shake your head. “you didn’t. surprisingly enough, your presence is actually the only one that doesn’t bother me tonight.” you look back at him.

it’s true. his alluring presence doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or annoyed. intrigued and captivated instead. perhaps he is another outsider like you.

“well, i’m glad to know that.” the corners of his very plump lips twitch upward, a brief smile.

surprising, that makes your heart flutter a little. you’ve only met the man and already has an affect you. no other man has done that before.

you and miguel carry on your conversation, getting to know one another. you two retreated to the kitchen inside, sitting on the barstools at the kitchen island. sipping on your drinks. his fingers would linger beside your bare calf. his touch igniting sparks in your body. your expression remains a neutral as you talk, but internally screaming. damn this man really has an affect on you. perhaps the only good thing that came out from this stupid party.

“seems like it’s getting more intense. do you want leave? someplace less crowded where we can hear each other better.” a light chuckle left his lips.

a little smile graces your lips. “sure, besides i don’t wanna deal with more drunk idiots.”

that earns you another chuckle from him, making your heart flutter once again.

you try finding felicia and lyla to let them know you’re leaving but there’s too much people it’ll be possible to find them. you’ll just send them a text.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

miguel takes you a small pub which was much less crowded. you have dinner there since both of you didn’t eat at the party. this was much better, in a quieter atmosphere, no chaos, and having a sincere conversation with someone who’s considerate.

“can i kiss you?”

his husky, seductive tone makes your heart swoop.

you then remember this could lead to a one nightstand and nothing else. although, there is this spark between you two, obviously sexual tension. miguel may be a nice guy, just don’t fall too deeply. it’s be a one time thing. it’s also probably be the last time you’ll ever him since you two never talked about your personal life like jobs, if either of you live close by. you prefer to keep personal information private, miguel respected and understood that.

you nod with a tiny smirk. “polite, i like it.”

miguel grins as he leans closer. his breath fanning yours. his lips gently pressed against yours. a gentle, soft kiss. damn his lips feel good, all plumped and nice. yours, though, are addictively sweet. he can taste your lip gloss but doesn’t care if some get on his. you never thought you’d kiss in a pub, let alone in public but with miguel, you feel comfortable.

he takes you back to his apartment. on the drive there, his hand gently massaged your thigh while driving with the other. your body tingled in excitement at the sensation. the same hand never left your lower back as you entered his home.

instead of rushing to the bedroom, you two talk a little more. miguel reassured you if you wish to leave, if you’re not comfortable with this because he doesn’t want you to think he’s only looking for sex. he truly enjoyed his conversations with you. you told him it’s fine and want to stay with him.

truthfully, you’re excited for what’s coming but of course you keep that to yourself. you’ve been wet since the moment his fingers were on your calf back at the party. his touches are just something else.

gently taking your hand in his, miguel guides you to the bedroom. he turns around and gingerly cups your face with both hands then kisses you. your hand rest on his abs, feeling the muscles through his dress shirt. you fight the urge to unbuckle his belt, you don’t want to seem desperate.

the kiss grows more passionate. shivers go down your spine as his hands slowly trail down your back. shoulder blades, the curve of your spine, then at your hips right above your ass. you can sense his hesitation so you decide to apply some pressure into the kiss and roam your hands over his broad shoulders to tigger his tendencies.

it worked since he gently palms it through your dress, eliciting a soft moan from you. now that did trigger his urges. bending down, miguel grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you in his arms. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his slightly pinched waist as he walks towards the bed. very carefully, miguel placed you down the mattress, hovering over you, yours lips never detach. your fingers dig into his brown curls as your passionate makeout season continues.

you softly sigh as his lips brush along your jawline then your delicate neck. fingers playing with his curls, making miguel’s mind hazy.

he leaves a few more butterfly kisses on your neck before lifting up. miguel glances at your chest then your eyes. “puedo?”

you nod with smirk, hiding your excitement.

his fingers grip on the zipper on the front of your dress and slowly pulls it down. miguel bites back a moan as peeks of your cleavage are revealed to his lustful eyes. a glimpse of your black lacy bra hugging your breasts perfectly like a gift.

you inhale sharply as his large palms gently cup them. he gives them a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft gasp from you. board palms playing with the soft squishy fat, kneading it with expertise. the lacy fabric of your bra on his fingertips. the addicting sensation makes you arch your back, chest leaning into his touch. miguel buries his face in your cleavage, kissing and licking the soft skin. a moan falls from your lips when his hands push them together, stuffing his face more with your soft tits.

one hand trails down to the hem of your dress. “is this okay?” he lifts his head to meet your gaze.

you hum with a nod.

miguel slowly pulls your dress off your body over your head then tosses it on the floor. his breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of your exposed body. eyes roaming over each curve.

his admiring gaze makes you a little nervous. it’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with someone. last time was a one nightstand with some asshole, in the beginning he didn’t seem like one, and he only went straight for pound town, not silently worshiping like the mysterious man above is.

you also don’t want to be the only one almost naked. your fingers grip on his belt. “your turn, guapo.”

a low chuckle falls from his lips. “impatient.”

you help him unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest. decorated with chest hair. the sound of his belt unbuckling makes your body tingle in excitement, specifically down to your throbbing core.

your eyes widen in awe at his muscular form. chest hair, delicious abs, and mouthwatering happy trail. they widen more as you notice the large bulge in his boxers. you expected him to be big due to his large frame but the outline makes it look like a monster.

“lift up your hips for me.” he said.

you obliged, lifting your hips. miguel slides a pillow underneath, giving you some support.

he bends down towards your legs. grabbing one leg, his lips brush against your calf. miguel slowly trails up your leg, reaching towards your inner thigh. your heart raced in anticipation. your breath hitched as you feel his lips sucking your inner thigh. your core throbs terribly, desperate for him.

he grins against your skin as he feels your legs twitch. “impatient for me, huh gatita?” he slowly moves towards your clothed cunt. miguel’s grin widens as he hears a small whine from above.

“no te procupes, gaitia. i’ll make sure you scream my name.” his seductive words makes sends shivers down your spine. gripping the edges of your panties, miguel slowly drags them down your legs.

those crimson eyes never leave your exposed pussy as he tosses your panties on the floor. grabbing your thighs and placing them on his bulky shoulders, miguel dives in and licks a stripe up your throbbing core. making you shudder and let out a soft moan. he switches between licking you up and sucking your sweet bundle of nerves. those sweet noises you’re making encouraged him to continue.

“dios… you taste amazing, gatita.” he moans against you, sending vibrations through you. “my dessert tonight.” he says in between licking and sucking.

his lips suck bit more aggressively on your clit, causing you to moan loudly. instinctively, you dig your fingers in his hair once again. each lick and suck makes you grip on his hair tighter, earning a muffled groan from the brunette man.

“miguel!~” you moan, arching your back off the bed as he starts penetrating you with his tongue.

the tip of the wet muscle penetrating you perfectly. causing your back to arch like waves. instinctively, you grind against his face. endless moans spilling from your lips. you definitely weren’t expecting him to be such a munch. each flick of his tongue, lips sucking your clit contain with such expertise.

after more flicks of his tongue, you come with a wail of his name. gushing over his tongue with your sweetness. a shiver runs down his spine at how beautifully you sang his name. miguel drinks you up feverishly as if he found an oasis.

finally, he moves away from your now sensitive pussy. “delicious, gatita. best dessert ever.” miguel seductively runs his tongue over lips, collecting the leftover of your sweetness. the sight makes your pussy flutter. he caught that and smirks.

grabbing a condom packet from the nightstand, miguel swiftly takes off his boxers. his cock bouncing out from its confinements. your eyes blown out by the size of it. holy shit he’s really fucking huge. there is no way that will fit inside you. your pussy, however, throbs for it, despite its size.

he sensed your apprehension. “i’ll be careful. lo prometo, gatita.” miguel climbs back on the bed, hovering your smaller figure.

“do you trust me?” he asks softly. “if we need to stop, tell me.” sincerity in his tone.

you nod. “i trust you.”

gripping his cock with a hand and the other on your thigh, miguel aligned himself with your entrance. a shared moan mingles in the steamy air as he slowly slides through your tight fluttering walls.

“fuck- so tight, gatita. gotta let me in a little more, por fav.” miguel groans.

you try by spreading your legs as much as you can, giving him the space he needs. a soft whimper falls from your lips as you feel his bulbous tip settled against your sweet spot. as soon as he bottoms out and you give him the green light, he does a slow thrust. eliciting a soft moan from you.

gingerly taking both your wrists with one hand, miguel’s gaze is locked with yours as he slowly kisses them then pins them above your head on the pillow.

“gonna make you feel good, hermosa.” he whispers huskily before capturing your lips with his, slowly thrusting into your tight cunt.

your moans and whimpers are muffled, sallowed by miguel’s lips. his cock slowly dragging out before plunging it back inside your fluttering walls with a deep slow thrust, allowing you to feel every inch of him. even with the condom on, you feel all of him.

miguel is in awe of your blissful expression. fluttering lashes, brows furrowed, gorgeous eyes rolled back, pretty sounds falling from your lips, back arched. a sense of pride flowing through his veins, knowing he is causing those movements of ecstasy.

“hermosa… taking me so well.” he softly pants, face leaning closer towards yours. his panting gently hitting your face as he admires you.

“oh miguel~” you moan as a big deep thrust hits your sweet spot. back arched for the hundredth time.

he lets out a groan as he feel yours walls clenching his cock. going insane at the sensation, motivating him to slowly pick up the pace of his hips.

obscure sounds mingles in the hot air of sex. your moans and his groans in unison. his hips snaps against yours at a faster pace. with his free hand, it travels down to where you’re connected and flicks your clit with his middle finger. causing you to moan loudly which makes him smile, back arched off the bedsheets at the sudden intense sensation. your hands balled into fists, nails digging into your palms.

“no other man has fucked you like this, huh gatita?” he pants above you. a grin on his face that grows wider when you shake your head followed by a whine.

the bed rocked due to miguel’s slight harsh thrust. the headboard repeatedly hitting the wall. he’ll get complaints from his neighbors but doesn’t give a shit. this intimate moment with you is more important than worrying about disturbing his dumbass neighbors’ slumber.

a few more rough flicks to your puffy clit and thrusts against that sensitive spot, you come with a wail of his name. gushing over his concealed cock, miguel wishing he could truly feel it but accepts it and is too mesmerized by your angelic expression as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure so beautifully.

as soon as he gently releases your wrists, you use all your strength and flip positions. miguel’s eyes go wide as he’s suddenly laying on his back, impressed by your sudden take of control but oh so loves the view above him. resting your hands on his abs, you ride his cock after feeling desperate to do so. another loud moan escapes your lips. you feel him deeper in this position. all the way in your guts.

large palms grip the fat of your hips, tightening with each roll of your hips. while riding the fuck out of him, you suddenly remembered you’re still wearing your bra. quickly unclasping it with a hand, the garment falls off your chest, freeing your breasts. miguel’s eyes widen, a groan rumbling from his chest at the sight of your exposed breasts. watching them jiggle as you bounce on his dick. a thin layer of sweat coating them like a dressing.

a deep feeling of hunger bubbles in his body. his hands on your hips travel up to your bouncing tits and gropes them. kneading the soft mounds feverishly. relishing the squishiness in his palms. with his thumb and index finger, he pinches your perky nipples then gently tugs them. eliciting a loud whine from you. the reaction makes him grin.

a loud groan erupts from his throat, throwing his head back against the pillow as you circle your hips in sinful manner. “oh fuck- mami…” instinctively, his hands return to your hips, tighter this time.

your legs were about to give out due to the burning sensation but miguel’s hands on your hips guiding you was a big help. the more you bounce on his cock, the faster both your orgasms were approaching.

“fuck- i’m gonna—“ miguel cuts himself with a load groan as he reaches his climax. spurting thick white ropes into the condom, filling it with his seed. secretly wishing it was your pussy.

you come as well, marking it as your third time tonight. you’re never orgasmed so much in your life. definitely an incredible experience.

you collapse on his chest and miguel immediately wraps his arms around you. your pants echoing the room as you both recover from your highs. his thumb tenderly rubbing up and down your spine as comfort.

after a few minutes to recover, miguel tossed out the used condom in the trash and carefully cleans you up with a towel from his bathroom. after cleaning up and giving you a water bottle, he then joins you in the covers and allow slumber to call both your names.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

you never forgot that night.

you left that morning before miguel woke up. a part of you felt guilt but it was a one nightstand after all. despite the chemistry between you two. some things are meant to end. it’s just how life is.

besides, you’ll probably never see him again. miguel radiates that mystery guy vibe who’ll you will meet once and never again afterwards.

you really liked him, you really did. still do, in fact. he never left your mind. his touch still lingering on your skin like a ghost. how good he made you feel, the sex and conversations with him. you felt so comfortable with him. however, it was just a one time thing.

oh well.

now summer activities are over and the new school year begins. another year giving lectures. you love your job as a professor, encouraging and motivating students to become their best.

each year is different. you’re excited to see what’s in store for this school year.

dressed in a fresh outfit for the first day. a baby pink blouse with a long white silk skirt. after your first two lectures, you decide to head to the teachers lounge for a quick cup of coffee. you didn’t go to your usual cafe this morning since you were in a bit of a rush.

entering the lounge, you head over to the counter where the coffee maker is. waving and greeting fellow colleagues on your way in. once you make your coffee, you stir it with a plastic spoon. after enough stirring, you take a small sip to test if it’s good. a satisfied hum from your lips says it all.

as you turn around to start your journey back to your classroom, your heart drops.

standing across the room talking with a few other male colleagues, a man with brown hair and stands way taller than his two counterparts. clad in black button up shirt and dark denim jeans. a pair of thick rimmed glasses settled over his eyes.

miguel.

the same miguel from the stupid party.

the same miguel you fucked that same night.

suddenly, you feel paralyzed. a wave of shock coursing through your body. jaw dropped and eyes popping out of your damn skull.

he’s a fucking professor here? at the same fucking university as you? what the actual fuck.

you fucked a coworker?

oh fuck.

those thoughts pause the moment his eyes meets yours before widening as well. his expression matches yours. a wave of anxiety hits you.

shit shit shit.

your body goes into panic mode and you bolted out of lounge. not sparing a glance at him. anxiety consumes your body like a virus. heart pounding in your chest as you hurriedly walk down the hallway. you didn’t notice the concern looks given your way as you rush back to your classroom.

a sudden wave of nausea hits you as you enter your classroom and hurriedly shut the door. tossing your coffee in the trash. the nausea destroyed your thirst and hunger simultaneously. holding your hands close to your chest, you slowly slide down against the door before sitting on the cold tile floor. the rapid drumbeat of your heart echos in your ears. chest heaving frantically and eyes fluttering.

this can’t be happening. this can’t be true.

miguel is a fucking professor?

but you’ve never seen him before in previous years. you’ve been teaching at nueva york university for four years. never once you saw his devilish handsome face on this campus. you’re 100% sure of it.

oh shit- is he new?

word has been announced a new professor, a biology professor specifically, has been hired.

oh my god- it’s fucking miguel.

glancing at the clock on the wall, your phone was on your desk so you couldn’t read the time easily, it’s an hour before your next lecture. that gives you time to deal with this mindfuck and calm down.

all you pray is to not run into miguel at all.

that ultimately fails when he catches you in the parking lot.

“don’t touch me.” you aggressively shrug away from his light touch on your upper arm, stomping your way to your car as fast as you can.

“please, can we talk?” miguel pleads, almost sounds desperate as he follows you like a lost puppy.

“no, stay the fuck away from me.”

“hermosa, pro favor—“

“stop!” you whirl around with bloodshot eyes, making him stop in his tracks. “stop following me! i don’t wanna fucking talk to you… at least, not in public…” you quickly glance around the parking lot, making sure there’s no bystanders.

his eyes do the same before sighing, his shoulders slumped. “i know, just please let me explain to you.”

you shake your head. “i said not in public.”

“then let’s go someplace else.”

“i’m not going anywhere with you.”

he frowns, secretly butthurt. “¿porque?”

“because i don’t wanna be seen with you because we’re coworkers! when people see us together too close, they’ll get the wrong idea.”

another sigh escapes his lips, understanding what you’re implying. “i understand but we really do need to talk—“

“no, we’re not talking. end of conversation.” you stomp your way to your car, which was only a foot away, ignoring miguel’s pleads.

part of you really wants to talk to him, know what the fuck is going on. it’s the right thing to do but the potential gossip of two professors hanging out with each other a bit too closely which could jeopardize you both consumes your mind.

miguel gives up and stops chasing after you once you got into your car and drive off with a pissed off face. shoulders still slumped as he sighs, feeling defeated and a little frustrated.

“fuck…” he curses at himself, running a hand through his brown curls.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

you avoided miguel like a fucking plague.

cooped up in your classroom majority of the day. the only times you’d leave is to use the restroom, fr an a quick snack from the local campus cafe, meet other professors for discussions.

luckily, miguel hasn’t shown up to your classroom. probably doesn’t know which room number is yours. although, you don’t doubt he has asked others for it. but still, he hasn’t shown up yet.

you never stepped foot in the lounge in fear of seeing him there like the previous time. too afraid to see his large silhouette around campus and chase after you.

you feel so fucking guilty. you truly are making this worse and awkward than it already is. you should talk to him, sort this shit out. communication is key.

but fear is consumes you like virus.

you fucking a coworker would cause a scandal. okay, maybe you’re being a little dramatic. you and miguel are both adults and professors. you just don’t want drama or gossip spreading around. coworkers whispering behind your back. that’s the last thing you need, more bullshit added to your list.

you exhale deeply as you walk down the hall towards your classroom. the first lecture starts in 20 minutes so you had time to grab breakfast at the campus cafe. a croissant sandwich and fruit.

“hey!” a familiar male voice calls out.

turning around, you see your coworker eddie. a sigh of relief leaves your lips, thankful it’s not miguel.

“hey, eddie.” you greet your friend with a smile.

“hey, me and the guys are meeting at jackie’s tonight. you still planning to come?”

the guys consist of you, eddie, your coworker peter and his wife mj, your other coworker jessica and her husband. eddie used to bring his girlfriend anne until they broke up. almost every friday, you all would head over to jackie’s, the local bar for funnies.

you nod with a smile. “yep, i’ll be there.”

“okay, cool! also, should i get red or white tulips?”

you quirk a brow, smirking. “you’re really trying to win back anne, aren’t you?”

a shameful smile plastered on his face. “yeah…” he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck with a hand.

you sigh, shaking your head with a smile. “white because they represent forgiveness.”

eddie claps excitedly with a big grin before pulling you in a quick, tight hug. “thank you, thank you, thank you! you’re the best!”

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. “of course, eddie.”

“see you tonight!” he lets you go then starts walking away with a wave.

you laugh, waving back. you hope things work out for him and anne, unlike you and miguel. you dismiss the thought with a head shake and walk away.

unknowingly, a pair of jealous brown eyes observed the interaction from down the hall. miguel knew eddie, one of the coworkers he became acquainted with on his first day. he sometimes gets on miguel’s nerves with his shitty ass humor, and consistent crying about his breakup with anne.

but oh eddie was really on his nerves when he pulled you into a hug. miguel’s jaw clenched and fists tightens at the intimate moment. he knows eddie is still in love with anne, would never chase after another woman because his heart still beats for her. by the interaction, it seems you two are friends which is totally fine. it’s normal to have friends.

but miguel’s brain says otherwise. eddie’s arms wrapped around you made his eye twitch. jealously boiling in his veins. miguel knows he shouldn’t be jealous because you’re not his and he’s not yours. but his feelings for you are strong. he wished it was him giving you that hug, just to feel you in his arms again.

your distant behavior was taking a toll on him. turning on your heel the minute he sees you and tries chasing you but ultimately fails. it leaves him upset and frustrated. miguel needs to talk to you.

he needs to find a way.

he has find a day to talk to you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

as you’re walking down the hall to your classroom, a yelp falls from your lips as you’re suddenly yanked by the arm into a supply closet. whirling around to face whoever snatched you, your eyes widen.

“motherfucker…”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t have another choice.” miguel holds up his hand cautiously.

“dragging me into a supply closet, where the janitor can clearly walk in, was your only choice?”

he lowers his hands. “okay, not the greatest idea but i just need to talk to you.”

“no.” you try moving past him but his bigass frame blocks you completely. “ugh! move, miguel.”

“not until we talk.” he said sternly, crossing his arms.

you groan, rolling your eyes. “ya te dije, i don’t wanna talk to you. especially not here, miguel.”

“tell me why you’re freaking out and i’ll let you go.”

anger and impatience boils in your veins. nails digging into your palms as your fists tightens. “i swear, if you don’t move i’ll—“

“what are you gonna do, gatita?” he coos, smirking.

“don’t call me that, especially in public.”

“we’re in a supply closet, there’s no one else.”

you grown out of frustration. “ay por dios, miguel! let me out! i have a class in 10 minutes!”

miguel just stands there with an intimidating expression, piercing eyes looking down at you. his heart races in his chest. being so close to you again makes his mind hazy. it’s been weeks, almost a month since you’ve been in the same space, standing so close to each other. he fought his demons to touch you, hold you in his arms.

you whine, running both hands over your face. you can’t believe this is happening. locked in a closet with the man who’s been constantly on your mind. tossing and turning in your bed having wet dreams about. whose touches still linger on your skin.

you hate the way he towers over you so easily. you hate the way he can corner you with his big frame. you hate the way your heart is racing because of him.

“fine, you wanna talk? let’s talk. why didn’t you tell me?” you fold your arms, mirroring his posture.

you went straight to the point.

miguel sighs, frowning. “first, you never mentioned you worked at a college. second, at the time i didn’t know if i was getting the job or not. i didn’t get a call until a week after we met.”

allowing his words to sink in, you do remember not mentioning you’re a professor at nyu. you kept personal information private.

“okay, the first part is on me.” you state before sighing once again. “fuck…” you lean against the wall with a thud, staring at the ceiling to avoid his eyes.

“trust me, i’m just surprised as much as you are.” miguel takes a small step closer.

you look back at him, staring at each other for a moment. if you had superhearing, you’d hear both your rapid heartbeats. the close proximity makes you and miguel anxious, bashful messes.

quickly blinking, you snap out of it. “there, we talked, bye.” swooping past him, you quickly open the door and walk out, not giving him enough time to react.

thankfully, there wasn’t anyone in the hallway. rushing back to your classroom, you swiftly close the door and sat down at your desk. you let out a deep breath before slouching down in your chair.

you can’t believe that just happened.

⠀⠀⠀⠀�� ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

coffee and books, two of your favorite things. you pay a visit to your local bookshop café. you spend an hour and a half slipping on coffee while reading a murder mystery novel. once it’s time to leave, you pack up your things and exit the little café.

the night sky above tells you it was late. on the path home, you pass by a sketchy alleyway. decorated in graffiti and trash scattered among the floor. a shadowy figure emerges from the shadows.

“hello, gorgeous.” a homeless man.

you ignore him, picking up the pace so you can avoid the man at all costs.

“don’t walk awayyyy.” the idiot slurs.

“please, stay away from me.” you keep on walking but you can hear his footsteps behind you. anxiety begins creeping through your veins.

“whaaat, i’m not gonna—“

“leave the lady alone.” a third voice said.

turning around, you see miguel standing in between you and the homeless guy.

“s-sorry, man.” the man holds up his hands in surrender. a slightly frightened look on his face before walking away like a coward.

with a stern frown, miguel keeps a cautious eye on the guy until he was completely gone. he then turns around, about to ask if you’re okay but you opened your mouth already.

“you’re following me, now? fucking creep.”

miguel lets out a frustrated groan. “i’m not following you. i just left the boxing gym and was on my way home then i saw you on the way.”

“uh huh, sure.” you narrow your eyes at him.

“ay mujer, when will you fucking believe me for once?” a sigh escapes his lips.

your eyes dart at his outfit. a black tank top and a matching sweatshirt over it. gray motherfucking sweats. strings of hair sticked to his forehead due to sweat. his duffel bag hanging over his shoulder.

fuck, he looks so good. you imagine him boxing, muscles rippling with each punch—

no, can’t have horny thoughts right now.

“what is this? my knight in shining armor? real fucking classic, miguel.”

“wh- no. that homeless guy wouldn’t stop bothering you so of course i had to stop him.”

“oh so what? you want my token of gratitude? sorry, i don’t have a handkerchief on me.” you pretend checking yourself for one. “i’ll just say thank you and goodbye.” you turn around and start walking away.

miguel blinks in disbelief at your childish tactics then proceeds to follow you. “you can’t just keep ignoring me and pretend nothing happened!”

“yes, i can.” you state firmly, still walking away.

“just talk to me!”

“miguel!”

a pregnant pause falls between you two. staring at one another. chests heaving, feeling breathless. your yelling cussed some heads to turn but neither of you care. people continue brushing past you both.

“not here…” you plead softly.

with a sigh, miguel silently nods and you both walk back to your apartment. the tension grew stronger during the silent walk back.

once you stepped foot into your apartment, you force miguel to take a shower because you don’t want his sweaty ass sitting in your living room. he teasing comment about showering together earned him a slap on the arm. his chuckling and smirk on his handsome face makes your skin crawl. he changed into his other set of clothes, different shirt and sweats. you take a shower after him, changing into a nightgown with a silky robe over it.

how the fuck did it get this far? one minute you’re avoiding him like a fucking virus at work, then he’s sitting on your couch after using your shower.

after offering him tea, you hand him is mug then sit down on the other end of the couch, leaving mic space between you two. much to his dismay but miguel understands and respects it.

another long awkward silence before miguel speaks up. “i was really happy i found you…” he glances at you. “i haven’t stop thinking about you since.”

that made your heart skip a beat.

“i really enjoyed spending time with you. i’ve never felt so connected with anyone before. i knew you were special the moment i saw you and i’m glad i decided to go to that dumb party to meet you.” he turns so he’s fully facing you. “believe me, spending time with you is better than any party.”

your heart did multiple summersaults. his words created butterflies in your tummy. never in your life someone had said such heartwarming words to you, nevertheless about you.

“when you left,” you notice his tone changes, a bit more sorrowful. “i was scared i’d never see you again. i asked some friends from the party if they knew you or at least your friends so i could find you. but i got no luck so i…” he pauses for a moment, sighing.

that guilty feeling returns, consuming your body. “i’m… i’m sorry i left. it’s just… i thought it was a one time thing so…” your gaze falters.

miguel frowns, upset but understands. he was about to say something but you continue on. he didn’t mind though. he wants to hear you.

“but the truth is i do feel the same way. i haven’t stopped thinking about you either. our conversations did mean something to me. i’ve never felt so comfortable with someone, especially right off the bat. it felt so nice having a sincere connection because it’s hard to find that with someone.”

you quickly glance up and see his expression softened. it reminds you of those conversations with him that night. how attentive and thoughtful he was.

“the reason why i’m freaking out is because coworkers dating isn’t really looked upon on well.” you tear away from his gaze with a shrug, concealing your embarrassment. “i didn’t want gossip spreading around and affect our jobs. especially you since you just started.” you let out another sad sigh.

that frown returns, but a concern frown. “hermosa…” scooting closer so he’s next to you, he gingerly cups your cheek with a hand, making you look back at him. “i appreciate your concern, a lot. i understand coworker relationships aren’t praised but honestly i don’t care.” he watched your eyes widen. “i don’t care what they say. what i do care about is you.”

your heart flutters, butterflies in you belly.

with both hands, he gently holds your face in his hands like the precious thing is in his palms. “i really like you, querida. i want nothing more than getting to know more of you, if you let me.”

at this point, you heart is beating like a drum. lashes fluttering and cheeks warm. his kind, heartwarming words washes your worries away. finally, you allow your heart to win. gently placing your hands on his wrists, you give them a loving squeeze. “sí.”

the corner of his lips curl up into a smile. a smile that makes your heart swoon. leaning closer, miguel gently pressed his lips on yours in a soft kiss. your hands leave his wrists to cup his face. his hands slowly move down your body, fingers skimming over the fabric of your silky robe waist as the kiss grows more passionate. instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean closer. his own secured around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

things escalated quickly, growing spicier. soft moans and groans. lips devouring one another. hands roaming around feverishly. left with no patience, miguel quickly rises from the couch and rushes to your bedroom, carrying you bridal style in his arms. your laughs echoing in the hallway.

perhaps everything was going to be fine. as long as miguel is by your side and you by his, no negative comments or criticism will stop you from loving each other. in fact, nothing but praises came your way when your relationship was later revealed.

everything was fine.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @rinyukaa @laysmt @felinespark @eatalyy @devotion @miss-canon-event @club-danger-zone @clearlysworld @unhinged-reader-36 @slut4oscarissac23 @hao-ming-8

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Guilt. You can't deny it any longer. Your stomach is chaos. Everything you eat threatens to come back up or churns like cement. 

Something happened. Something you can't remember but you know what it was. Yet it isn't just that mistake that eats away at you. It's the one keeping you awake. The one draining you of energy and money alike. Your marriage. 

Stupid is an understatement. You didn't think any of this through. It's catching up to you. You didn't just fuck around because you’re angry. No, you're unhappy. 

But you did fuck around. For all you can say about Barrett, he didn't do that. It's over but you just don't know how to end it. He doesn't either. 

Tonight? You say that every day but you find an excuse not to do it. You're tired, you have to make dinner, you'll do it tomorrow when he isn't in a mood. 

That night you delay the inevitable with a trip to the pharmacy. You need something for your stomach. Once you get it under control, you'll be able to think. 

You grab the cheapest anti-nauseant on the shelf and read it over. May cause drowsiness. Well, what doesn't make you tired? 

"Got a bug?" The deep timbre scares you for more than its abruptness. It's familiar. Your vision flickers like a strobe light as you look over. 

It's him. Again. Captain America. What are the odds? 

"Ate something, I think," you murmur. 

He watches you. It's like he's waiting for something. You stare back. 

"Anyway..." you glance around him. "Sorry, if I'm in your way." 

You take a step back to clear the view of the shelf. 

"Nah, this stuff doesn't affect me. Can't remember the last time I had a stomach ache," he scoffs and turns. He grips the edge of a shelf as he faces you. "You never texted back." 

You flinch and flutter your lashes. "Texted?" 

He grins and puts his hand across his chest and drags it down. He laughs, "we had a good night, didn't we?" 

"Huh, I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Really, you don't? 'Cause I can hear your heart racing." 

You blink and look around, "really I don't--" 

"I'm sure that works with your husband. You two did look awfully happy at the grocery store. I could see the disgust crawling all over you," he snickers. 

"Excuse me, I don't know you. So please, go away." 

He clucks and stands straight. He drops his arms and frames his hips, "is that how you talk to your Captain? You're not how I remember you. You were a lot... nicer." 

"Shut up. That didn't happen." 

"Keep telling yourself that," he shrugs. 

"I-- I can't remember..." you whisper. Your voice cracks, "please, I don't remember." 

You look up at him with teary eyes. It was him? Of all people you had a drunken one-night stand with Steve Fucking Rogers. This can't be real. 

"I remember," he steps closer. "I can't forget." 

"No, please, I'm married. Alright? It was a mistake. Just a drunken night." 

"Not for me," he insists. His earnestness makes you shudder. 

"Look, I'm flattered but my life is complicated enough  alright? I'm sorry but I'm sure you can find someone else, Cap. Someone who isn't twenty shades of fucked." 

You shake the box of tablets and cringe. You turn and sweep away. You head to the checkout and go to one of the self-service machines. 

He surprises you as he puts his hand on the plastic divider and looms over you. You focus on scanning the pills and paying. 

"Look, Cap, I'm sorry I didn't reply." You slip your card out of your wallet.

"You ran out. I came back to an empty apartment." He juts a leg out as he leans on the divider. 

"Sure, but I woke up in a stranger's bed, all alone. I was a bit freaked out." 

"I went to get breakfast," he says. 

"Did you not notice the ring on my finger?" The machine blares in rejection of your card. You curse under your breath and try again. 

"You didn't seem to," he retorts. 

You swallow as your card is rejected again. You toss the pills on the little ledge next to the till and huff. "It happened and I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye but I got enough going on." 

He sucks in through his nose and lets it out slowly. You turn away and he snarls, "I can hear the other heartbeat too, you know?" 

You stop short. What the fuck is he talking about? You gather what pride you have left and set your chin high. You march out without looking back. 

Other heartbeat? 

The nausea, the exhaustion, the aversion to the candle in your bathroom. No. It makes sense but it can't be true. 

You can't handle anything else. You just can't. You can't afford a pregnancy test, let alone a baby. 

[augustinewrites]

as a captain in the luofu’s sky-faring commission, you’re no stranger to late nights. there’s always lots to do. there are expense reports to sign off on, mission summaries to type up, patrols to assign. the workload is never ending. 

“here are the reports you requested, captain,” a young, bright eyed cadet says as she places a stack of papers onto an empty corner of the desk. “and your coffee.”

“thank you.” you take the cup, flashing her a grateful smile before taking a quick sip. the warm, bitter sip of espresso is exactly what you need to get through the tail end of your night.  “i've sent you all the maneuvers we’ll be practicing next week, as well as patrol assignments for the month. if you have any questions–”

a few gasps cut you off, the attention of your fellow pilots drawn to the entrance. 

“it’s general jing yuan!” they whisper giddily. 

your brows furrow slightly. “jing yuan?”

“yes, love?” 

you startle slightly when a pair of arms wrap around your waist, a shock of white hair entering your peripheral as the most powerful man on the xianzhou luofu nuzzles the crook of your neck.

“dismissed. i’ll see you all tomorrow morning,” you say quickly to the starry-eyed pilots in front of you. they scramble quickly, leaving you alone with your husband, who gives them a lazy salute.

“i missed you,” he murmurs, his breath smelling strongly of osmanthus wine. 

“and i, you,” you assure him, twisting in his hold to face him and patting his cheek lightly. you see now that he’s dressed down in only the soft material of his shirt and trousers, forgoing heavy leathers and armour fashioned for a general.

when was the last time you'd seen him so relaxed in public? unburdened by the needs and conflicts within the luofu? 

jing yuan preens at your attention, grasping your hand to press a kiss to your palm. he gazes at you, cheeks rosy and eyelids already beginning to droop. “shall we take our leave then?”

gods, he’s starting to lean, resting his body weight against yours so you’re struggling to hold him up. “you certainly should, love. i’ll meet you at home once i’ve finished my work.”

“i suppose i shall wait for you then,” he concedes with a great sigh, suddenly pulling away. it appears your suggestion has fallen on deaf ears, because jing yuan drags an empty chair over to your desk, plopping down into it. 

given his drunken state, it’d be unwise to leave him to return home unsupervised. you wouldn’t be there to stop him from purchasing an unreasonable amount of baked goods (again) on the way home. 

“fear not, lover,” he grins, crossing a leg over his knee as he makes himself comfortable. “i shall endeavour to be as silent as a mouse while you work.”

you highly doubt his ability to do so, but know that arguing with him is pointless. once the general makes a decision, his mind is impossible to change. 

so he sits as quietly as he can manage, fingers drumming rapidly against his knee as he hums. it takes you a minute to identify the tune, but when you do your pen stops.

“is that our first dance song?”

“indeed.”

his chair scrapes the floor loudly as he drags it next to yours, leaning his head against your shoulder. 

“jing yuan,” you sigh, rubbing your temple. “i can’t work when you’re like this.”

he takes your hand, slipping his fingers between yours. “do you find my affection…distracting?”

“incredibly.”

you very nearly cave when he brushes your hair aside, nosing at the side of your neck before pressing his lips to your pulse. “then it appears i’m doing my job as your husband.” 

you stare hard at the expense reports, trying your best to focus with your lion of a man clinging to your side.

you feel a little guilty when you pull away from him, a whine escaping his pouting lips. you stand, straightening your uniform and stepping back to avoid his grasp

“stay here,” you instruct. “i’m just going to run to the archives room.”

jing yuan, as expected, does no such thing. 

giggles and odd looks are cast in your direction at the sight of an arbiter general trailing after you. 

“helm master!” he suddenly calls out, voice echoing through the building. your gaze darts to where his is fixed, spotting yukong walking towards you both. “i command you to relieve my wife from her duties for the night.”

she glances between the two of you, amused. “well, who am i to ignore an order from general jing yuan?”

“it’s really not necessary–”

yukong places a hand on your shoulder. “go.enjoy your night. besides, i doubt anyone will be able to get any work done with him moping about until you finish.”

she heads back to her post before you can protest, leaving you alone with the very satisfied general.

“come along, dear,” he says, scooping you up with ease and heaving you over his shoulder. he lands a firm smack to your rear when you squeal, arguing to be put down. “let’s head home and see if we can recreate the rest of our wedding night, hm?”

a/n: little drabble for @mydiluc for letting me ramble on about our fave men at random hours of the day ☺️ thank you my starshine sugarplum cupcake angel i appreciate you!!

[11rosebunny]

How they are crushing

Haruka Sakura

He is the shyest person you'll ever be around. Once finally bumping into him in the street, he immediately recognized you from the other day, and till then, the two of you continued to bump into each other to the point where it became so normal.

The others caught on how Sakura was the one who began to constantly reach out to you first, after having exchanged numbers.

He usually stutters every now and then but quickly covers it by simply speaking faster. When he speaks faster it's easy for one to just assume he only stuttered because he was talking too fast. He surely just wasn't nervous. or anything like that...

For the most part, he's able to keep himself together, while at the same time trying to give hints. Very poor hints though.

Nirei and Tsugeura tried to give him advice, but coming from those two, was his worst decision ever yet.

Aside from communication, his body language is a dead give away. He tends to shift a lot and move around in hopes of shaking off his jitters, that's when people noticed his behaviour whenever you were around and ultimately, that's how Tsubaki was the first one to know.

Hajime Umemiya

He's not as obvious as you think he is. Many people didn't catch on but very few people did like Hiragi and Tsubaki.

Everyone is aware he treats everyone with the same respect and with that friendly manner of his, even so, Hiragi noticed whenever you came around in a large group setting, Umemiya would drop nearly everything to come greet you first and reel you into the place. He tends to get more talkative when you're around which caused others to notice but brushed it off.

When speaking to you, he forces to make eye contact with you in his head. He might even stare so hard to the point where it becomes awkward and you end up looking away. He remains keeping eye contact whenever he's speaking to you, if you're speaking, or if you're just doing something when he's around.

Sometimes, a tint of blush can be seen if you focus on his face close enough.

When it comes to his body language, he is oddly always around you it's very interesting. The weirdest part is, he doesn't even notice it half of the time until Hiragi had pointed it out for him.

"Umemiya, is something wrong?" You asked the tall male.

He looked back at you confused, "What do you mean?"

"...Why're you... watching me eat?"

He also has the courtesy of carrying any of your belongings, either it being your bag, books, laptop, groceries, anything.

Toma Hiragi

Everyone finds it odd how it looks like he's a guard dog protecting you everywhere you go.

Since then after saving you, the both of you began to hang out after school, till it turned into hanging out on weekends to hanging out at any chance you two have.

He may not show it, but he becomes more playful when it's just you two alone which no one has ever seen him act like. Instead of his hardcore language, he tones it down for the sake of you which you didn't even know yourself until you saw how he began to scold the younger grades from his school.

This a secret but he began regretting how intense his looks are, because of that, he turned to hair care, shaving properly, and dressing nicely. It even came to a point where Umemiya laughed at him causing him to roughly yell at his friend.

It's rare for him to get shy, because of that his communication with you seems normal when he talks with anyone else.

Having said that, nearly nobody found out he was crushing on you.

Ren Kaji

After meeting him being separated for years apart the two of you finally calmed down, and instead of your old bickering, the two of you were unexpectedly awkward with each other for the first few weeks of seeing each other.

Believe it or not, the both of you eventually went back to your rivalry.

To the others, they thought you two kept flirting.

Even so, the others would notice how much quieter he'd grow when he would spot you from across the street or had caught up in a close encounter with you.

Hell, even when he had to speak to you, a light dust of pink would cover his ears.

But because the both of you lived right next to each other, your families didn't make it better.

The both of your families constantly chatted and exchanged items if they needed it, and sometimes, they'd send you to give them what they needed and they'd send Kaji to your doorstep to hand you an item. The both of you hated it.

Taiga Tsugeura

He is very embarrassing.

He is the worst one out of everyone when keeping it a secret that he likes someone. The moment he asked for your number, they all knew.

The moment he sees you he instantly drops all his attention and throws it onto you. He becomes more lively if he wasn't before and tends to smile a lot.

What's even better for him in his opinion, now he has another better reason to workout.

He doesn't really understand how physical and louder he gets when he's around you, always being the first one to sit beside you, get you whatever you need, do whatever you say, it's almost amusing for the others to see. Nirei makes notes on the way he acts sometimes because some of them are unbelievable.

Needless to say, his a pocket full of sunshine.

Mitsuki Kiryu

Lover boy out of all of them. He's so smooth it's very attractive at how he's able to swoon you.

He turns to be more gentle with his words and body language, even when touching you, he does it ever to lightly to be respectful. It amazes you how a teenage boy like him knows how to be gentle.

Extremely well with his words, he likes to make you feel included whenever speaking to you, even if you're not generally in the conversation.

He does the same thing as Umemiya, taking hold of your bags and anything you're holding when he's around you, he's a gentleman after all.

Hayato Suo

Nearly everyone that knows the both of you are shocked at how well you treat each other.

On the side note, Suo had already been comfortable talking with you in any manner and touching you in any kind manner, you two had known each other since kids so it wasn't awkward. It wasn't until Highschool where he began catching feelings and sadly, you failed to notice them due to already being very close to him.

He started to wait for you everyday to walk you to school, which you thought was just a kind friendly gesture, especially because you two didn't see each other as much as before.

He began to occasionally ask you to go out for a small hang out which ended up turning into weekly hangouts at least once or twice a week, this is when his group of friends had spotted you two in the wild.

This boy dresses in clothing that he think will charm you, and tends to tidy himself up to look more presentable in front of you.

Small things like cleaning up after your mess when you go out to eat, ordering for you, paying for your things, holding your items, listening to you speak.

[hellsitedotcom]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ The Moment They Fell In Love With You ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

featuring Dan Heng, Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine, ...

๋࣭ ⭑ I've been thinking a lot about these four idiots specifically, so here's another headcanons post from me; you can find my post on how they kiss here ๋࣭ ⭑

๋࣭ ⭑ warnings & info: mention of injury, Jing Yuan & Yanqing "father/son"-like relationship implied. ๋࣭ ⭑

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ DAN HENG ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⤑ You had joined the Astral Express around the same time as him, and despite his reserved nature, Dan Heng found himself quite enjoying your company early on, given you were rather similar to him.

⤑ He warmed up to you quickly, enough to care for your safety and make sure you were alright after especially tough missions, but he never thought of you as more than his colleague. You weren't "special" to him back then.

⤑ Until he got confronted with his past again; until Blade came back to haunt him; until Imbibitor Lunae was awakened again, and his past resurfaced. And, while many others tried to coax information out of him, drowning him in questions, you never pressured him to reveal anything to you.

⤑ You became his safe haven, in a way. Your silence brought him comfort, tranquility...he knew that you wanted to help him, but despite it all, you never once asked him any personal questions, you merely wanted to know if he was alright. You gave him time to open up at his own pace.

⤑ And Dan Heng found himself wanting to do so only around you. One day, he had received a mysterious letter and told you about it, and while he could see the worry in your eyes, you merely accepted his decision to meet the unknown sender. And in that moment, the man realized how deeply he actually cared for you.

⤑ The second he had returned to the Express, he came looking for you, and though slightly awkward initially, he opened up to you that day. He wanted to tell you everything - everything he could remember, and he did. All the while, you listened to him, not once interrupting him. And when he was finished, he felt as if a weighed had been lifted of his shoulders.

⤑ After that day, the relationship between you two only strengthened. Everyone noticed, and it did not take long until March & Himeko started asking questions about the two of you, making Dan Heng blush and blurt out some answer before he bailed, his mind thinking about nothing but you.

⤑ By that time, Dan Heng knew that he held special feelings for you. He realized when he found himself walking toward you to talk about anything and everything; when he found his heart beating faster anytime you smiled or laughed; when he constantly found himself wanting to be beside you - beside his safe haven, his peace, his...home.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ BLADE ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⤑ It was...such an odd moment for him; Blade had seen you fight - he fought you personally, even, and during those fights he felt almost exhilarated, given how well you were able to keep up with him, but nothing compared to...this.

⤑ You had been bickering...arguing with him, his body covered in scars and wounds of a past he had never intended on sharing with you; you were insistent that he finally got his bandages changed, shaking your head anytime you caught a glance of those old, stained rags he still wore.

⤑ Eventually, he had given in; He wasn't quite sure why, maybe he saw it as a repayment for all the times you took up his offer of fighting him; a "Thank you" for all the times you raised your weapon against him just to satiate something he might never explain to you.

⤑ At first, he felt...odd, as if he shouldn't be sitting there, allowing you to be this close to him, but as the minutes passed and you carefully unwrapped his wounds, he found himself holding his breath without noticing.

⤑ Blade was watching you like a hawk, his breath hitching when your gentle fingers brushed across his skin as you replaced his bandages; You were so careful...so different from when he fought with you, making sure he wasn't uncomfortable from start to finish.

⤑ After that day, Blade's feeling for you...changed. Prior to that, you were merely someone he worked with. But now? Sometimes he could catch himself looking for you when there was another mission waiting for the Stellaron Hunters, finding himself wondering if you would be his partner this time.

⤑ Kafka noticed - how could she not? But for the longest time, Blade wasn't sure what he was truly feeling for you, and when the day came that you needed bandages, he found himself offering to help you with your wounds as you had helped him. And in that moment, that offer of his alone, he suddenly understood what he was feeling.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ JING YUAN ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⤑ You were a good friend of his; someone he trusted. Regardless of when you met (leaving this up to your personal headcanon/OC), he had always enjoyed your company and input. But that's all you were to him for the longest time; a good friend.

⤑ Lately, you found yourself joining Yanqing and him more often during...well, almost everything they did; sparing, training, enjoying their time off together. Jing Yuan did not mind, given how much the kid liked you.

⤑ There was this one day when the three of you were at the training ground and Jing Yuan had to briefly step away to resolve something. When he returned, he found himself freezing in his steps.

⤑ There you were, smiling brightly as Yanqing excitedly rambled about something that the man couldn't catch from where he stood. Both the kid and you looked happier than he had seen you in a long time, and when Yanqing suddenly jumped into your arms and you replied with loud, cheerful laughter while spinning him around, the man's heart skipped a beat.

⤑ For a brief moment, he did not see his student and his good friend before him, but something else...something that he found himself wishing was the actual reality. But as quickly as that thought had come, he shook it off.

⤑ While he returned to the two of you with his usual smirk on his face, Jing Yuan knew that something inside him had changed in that moment. Yet, that moment was the only thing he could think about for the next days. You were the only thing he could think about - the only thing he wanted to think about.

⤑ How you smiled and laughed, how you joked with the kid as if you weren't just friends, but a family. And Jing Yuan found himself wishing that you were more to him than just a friend, too. Everyone close to him noticed eventually, especially Yanqing, who made it his mission to drag you along to even more meetings from then on.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ AVENTURINE ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

⤑ Well, no one is going to be surprised when I say that this man had the "Oh. Oh shit." moment during the taking of risks, no? Well, you were just a...a business partner, a colleague before his mind descended into panic.

⤑ It was during a mission that the two of you had been assigned on (along with other people, if you wish); You had known each other prior from...well, previous missions and similar encounters, and you did get along, though merely on a business level.

⤑ Aventurine was talking about the mission, dramatic flair all around as he turned to you and proposed a risky idea, though he was mostly joking - mostly. But when, after a few seconds of silence, you agreed to his idea, he found himself speechless for a brief moment.

⤑ He did not expect you to agree to his plan, having thought you were someone that preferred logic and good strategies over his wild gambles, but when he realized you were serious, something...switched in his brain, and after finetuning his plan, you pulled it through.

⤑ It was almost mesmerizing, watching you pull it off flawlessly even in the face of potential failure, and worse. Before you had gone off to execute the plan, Aventurine had merely been confused by your approval of it. But as he watched you return to him with barely a scratch on you, the mission a success, he found himself...feeling uncertain.

⤑ As soon as he bid you farewell and found himself alone again, his composure seemed to falter completely. He kept repeating the mission in his head, trying to identify some ulterior move of yours that he had previously missed, but all he kept finding was your sincerity, how breathtaking it was to watch you work, and how he felt his heart skip a beat when you returned to him.

⤑ After that, he tried not to think about it anymore, finding that it only made him restless, panicked even. This went on until he found himself teamed up with you again after a handful of disappointing, "boring" missions without you by his side. And when he spotted you, met your gaze again, and found himself unable to plaster his usual smirk on his face, he suddenly realized what was "wrong" with him.

[macfrog]

the sweetest con cowboy like me chapter fifteen

well. this is it. we made it, kids. thank you so, so much for reading for all this time. for all your patience, and kindness, and loyalty. i will carry this pair, their story, and all of your love for them with me forever. love you guys. xx

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

summary: every cowboy deserves his ride off into the sunset.

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), lotsa guilt from reader, dreamy love sequence & mention of unprotected piv/creampie, more greys anatomy spoilers, reader's dad is either Bald or has a Receding Hairline (you choose), more sex - this time reader and joel sixty-nine, face sitting, oral (f and m receiving), more (inferred) unprotected piv, making dirty, hot love ALLAT, cursing, a little smut n a lotta fluff n a droplet of angst at the end

word count: 10.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡

“How the fuck did this take you three minutes? Three?”

“I’m telling you. I’m a genius.”

You snort. “Shut up. You only passed Math ‘cause you were fooling around with that nerd – Thomas? Was it Thomas?”

“Timothy. And you don’t need math to do a sudoku puzzle, loser. You just need brains. Logic.” Anna taps two fingers against her temple, tilting her head.

“Logic,” you murmur, shaking your head.

Sal’s is quiet today. He’s out of town for his father-in-law’s funeral and made the genius decision to leave the two of you in charge. Since opening at nine, you’ve had four customers. The to-do list left for you was completed by ten, and since then, you’ve been hunched over your phone at the cash register, messing around on some puzzle app Anna made you download.

It's a Wednesday. Nothing exciting ever happens on Wednesdays.

Anna’s behind you, tearing apart and flattening the cardboard boxes you spent all morning emptying. “That level,” she clicks her chewing gum wetly between her teeth, scent of mint over your shoulder, “that ain’t even the hardest one. Ooh, no, babe. Three goes –”

“Shh!” You bat her arm away, curving your hand over your phone screen. She snorts and wanders off through the back, wad of cardboard under her arm.

Anna wasn’t your closest friend in high school, and you sure didn’t stay much in touch past the odd Facebook post update when you left. But working with her, and her dad being your dad’s buddy – she’s sort of become one of those people you just can’t shake.

Like a stray puppy. Or…an annoying hangnail.

She’s nice enough – talks a lot of crap sometimes, but she cares for you. You’d go as far as saying you two have grown pretty close since you came home. Still, the acidic sting of resentment sits on your tongue, anytime you think of her involvement in the unravelling of your little lie. Think of your dad calling hers, Hank asking her where you were.

Think of the fact that, if she hadn’t been honest with him – I don’t know where she is, Dad – nothing would’ve gone wrong.

That’s not fair. If you’d never touched Joel in the first place, nothing would’ve gone wrong.

It’s just – she had a hand in pushing the first domino.

The bell above the door jingles and you lift your eyes from tiny numbers and blank squares to meet a familiar pair of hazel. An Alanis Morissette T-shirt under a denim jacket. She tucks her thick, soft hair behind her ears and smiles, then skips around the counter and links her hands at your tummy; her ear flat against the nape of your neck.

“Why so clingy?” you ask, and Sarah straightens up.

“Just excited to spend some time with my favorite person. That allowed?”

Your eyes scan her up and down as she leans against the counter, stealing a gummy from a jar beside the register. “Been staying with you for nearly three weeks now, you ain’t sick of me yet?”

She shakes her head, jaw chewing, cheeks swollen with a grin. “Are you done yet? I wanna make sure we get good seats.”

“We will,” you assure her. “It’s only, like, three p.m.”

“But it’s Barbie,” she says, “and I wanna get some snacks before we head in.” She holds the decapitated gummy worm up, eyebrows high, before pulling it between her teeth until it snaps. She drags the withered red tail over her tongue.

“That thing you just mauled,” you gesture to the masticated shape in her fingers, “candy. Snacks. Just take some of that.”

“You won’t even buy your date movie theater candy? Damn. Mom’s a cheapskate. Wish I could say my dad’s a lucky guy.”

You shove her off, disguising your laugh with a shake of your head. “You are on thin ice, I’m not even kidding.”

Sarah’s laughing, reaching for another worm. “You know what that sounds like?”

“Hm?”

“What you just said.”

“What’s it sound like, Sarah Miller?”

“Something a mom would say.”

“Alright,” you stand, “get out. Get outta my store.”

The door opens when you point to it, Texan heat sweeping in to swarm the one rickety fan you have in here. The brass bell trembles, and beneath it, a man in a tucked shirt and jeans, glum face and tired eyes.

You blink at him and he blinks back, and no words are spoken between you, but your dad understands to move, to keep walking – and you understand to let him.

“Shoot,” Sarah whispers, twisting her gummy around her finger. “That was awkward.”

Three weeks of staying with them – Sarah and Joel – also means three weeks of zero contact with your dad. The most you’ve heard from – or, rather, about him is that, last week, Joel bumped into Hank at the gas station, and the old man mentioned that he and your dad had grabbed a beer the night before.

What’d he say? you asked Joel, dragging a dish towel around the rim of a glass.

He shrugged, flicking his hands dry over the sink. Said the Rangers aren’t doin’ too good. I said, Yeah, that’s cause a’ –

No, Joel. What did he say about me ‘n my dad?

He waited a second to let the offense of your interruption soak in. Took the towel from your hand, replaced the glass on the draining board. Nothing, he said, I don’t think he knows.

It sat with you the entire night. The three of you watched a movie, occupying either side of Joel’s couch, though you’re sure you don’t remember a word of it. The image of him sat center-stage in your mind until you pulled yourself against Joel’s body in bed that night. Sat in his recliner, flicking through TV channels, the only sounds in the house that of Ice Road Truckers, the ticking of the kitchen clock, and his own fucking breathing.

Alone. Not even Hank to talk to about – well.

You’ve done your best not to think about him. And it works, most days, when you’re with Joel. Helps to go do stuff: ride shotgun while he picks up supplies for work or grabs groceries. Helps to play pretend like his house is yours, too. Tidying when he’s not home, lighting candles and sinking into a bubble bath for him to find you in when he finishes. Helps to be at Sal’s, with Anna. Sudoku and her fucking Tinder account to keep you both occupied.

Most days, you forget to consider the lonely shape of your dad at all – but that seems to hurt all the more. Like forgetting to tend to an open wound; instead, letting the infection blister and bubble so that, when you do bump it again, the pain feels sharper. Hissing at you, poison seeping from flesh.

His showing up, waltzing straight into the store – feels less like a bump, and more like a pair of hands diving straight into the gash, tearing it wide open again. Blood and poison gushing all over the checkered floor.

Anna materializes between two aisles, hands on her hips when she stands behind you. “Y’all still not really talkin’?” she asks.

You and Sarah shake your heads. The three of you watch the shape of your dad’s skull over the shelves, bobbing from bay to bay. Door hinges to fence paint. He painted the fence last summer. He doesn’t need fucking fence paint.

“Nope,” you reply. “’s been, what, two and a half weeks now?”

“Yeah,” Anna mutters, the slope of sympathy in her voice. “My dad’s been talkin’ to him about it. They’ve spoken, like, almost every night on the phone.”

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, head falling into your hands. “Are you serious?”

“Not about you and Joel. Just about the fight.”

Your jaw slowly slackens, eyes thinning as your gaze slides over to your friend, a saddened expression on her face.

Sarah nods, like an accessory sat on the dash of a car. Bobbing bobbing bobbing, until her brows drop and she turns to you, finally realizing. “Wait, what?”

Anna blinks between the two of you. “What?” she asks, lips pressing together.

“You know?” Sarah asks, glaring at her.

Anna snorts. Neither of you break. She quickly quietens and clears her throat, bending to stuff more cardboard under her arm. “Well…” She sucks in a deep breath. “At rodeo night, when you left your phone on the table, me ‘n Kara wanted to leave a bunch of selfies for you to find later. But when I went to grab your phone, you had a text from him. Joel. Something about someone winning you over like he did, or something. I can’t remember. But that was the first thing.”

Sarah’s face sours at the mention of her dad’s flirty text, scoffing as she swipes another gummy from the jar. “Real fuckin’ subtle, Dad,” she murmurs.

You sharpen your gaze at Anna, blurring the brown curls and low brows from your peripheral. “Uhuh…?”

“Then, there was the lying to your dad about where you were. That Monday – you said you were at mine. You weren’t. Your dad called my dad to ask, ‘n my dad asked me why the hell you’d lie. I figured, What a weird coincidence, right?”

You slip off your stool, legs feeling more liquid than bone. “Oh, Jesus…”

“But then…then, I saw how you were when he called on the way to Frank’s. In the car. You were…fucking weird. And then Joel punched that dude – that basically confirmed it. I don’t think either of your dads would do that for me. It felt…it felt personal. He took your hand ‘n dragged you outta there, and it felt like…somethin’ else.”

You’re leaning against the counter, head in your hands. Struggling to even listen to her piece it all together. Were you this fucking obvious, the whole time?

Anna answers for you. “Yeah,” she says, nodding, “I didn’t catch two fucking boyfriends cheating on me, and not pick up some detective skills, babe.”

You stand straight, composure slowly building over shame. “And your dad doesn’t know? My –” you flick your head across the store, lowering your voice, “– my dad hasn’t told him?”

A laugh spurts from somewhere deep in her chest. “Hell, no. Are you tryna give him a second heart attack? No. He just thinks you were somewhere you didn’t want your dad to know – a boy’s or something. Which – well, I guess you were.”

You nod, half-appreciation, half-resignation. Alright. Now shut up about it, would you?

“But listen,” Anna says, apparently not as good at mindreading as she is at secret-revealing, “y’all gotta work on being sneaky. You’re, like, really bad at it.”

“Yeah,” you sniff, “thanks, Anna.”

You grip the edge of the counter and try to draw your eye away from your dad; a little angry that he’s here, and yet, a little more thankful that you’ve had at least a tiny glimpse of him. Desperate for him to come over, to acknowledge your mutual existence in the same room, and yet – petrified that he does.

He keeps his back to you, though you notice him turning every so often, looking at you from his peripheral. Nope – your black shirt and blue jeans are still behind the counter. He turns back to the shelf.

“Hi, sweetie.” A woman in a pink blouse approaches the counter. She lays down a couple pairs of plyers and you ring her up, asking if she found everything okay. Choking a little when you inhale the scent of her perfume.

“Beautiful day for you to be in here workin’, huh?” Her rosy cheeks fill as she hands you the cash.

Oh, yeah. It’s a beautiful day to be stuck selling plyers to pink women in pink blouses smelling of pink perfume, while my dad – still reeling from the revelation that I’ve been sleeping with his best friend, by the way – pretends to peruse the store.

“I’m almost done,” you reply, blunt enough to deflate her expression only a little, sliding the paper bag stamped Sal’s back across the counter.

She nods in thanks and slinks off, suffocating aroma following her. And like a magician, when she disappears off to the side, your dad stands in her wake. A few feet from you, keeping his distance, watching carefully before he dares to move. Waiting for your go-ahead.

When you lift your chin, beckoning him forward, Anna takes Sarah’s arm and yanks her away, shoving some shredded boxes into her arms. “You wanna help me?” she asks the nosy Miller, tossing something of an alarmed glance back at you and your dad.

There’s a funny feeling behind your eyes when he steps up, empty hand resting hesitantly on the counter. “She coverin’ up the smell of a dead body or som’?” he asks.

The air pushes from your lungs, a laugh barreling with it. Your hands clasp on the surface opposite his. A scorch of white heat at the nape of your neck. “Very vibrant, huh?”

“Very.” He clears his throat, shakes his head a little, and takes a deep breath. “I figured this might be as good a place as any to find you. I didn’t want you to think I was…cornering you, or anything, if I showed up at Joel’s.”

“I wouldn’t – I mean, maybe. But, y’know…this is fine.” Your arms cross defensively, the baggy material of Joel’s shirt wrapping snug around you.

Your dad seems to know. Evidence being that it’s you, in a shirt all too big – a shirt he’d likely see his best friend in, too. It forces your arms tighter, sucking in the scent of Joel to combat the dizzying feeling of nerves.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” he says eventually, fingers drumming awkwardly. “I just wanted to know you were fine.”

“I am fine. I promise. Just – working a lot.”

He nods, looking down to his feet. Twists the toe of his boot into the linoleum.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, too,” you offer, the words fluid and spilling from one to the next – something forceful in their nature.

Your dad’s eyes lift at the same time that his cheeks do. Relief. “Thanks, kiddo. I actually – I was hopin’ that maybe we could talk. If you’re free. I don’t know what time you get off today.”

“I finish in ten minutes,” you say, and hope seems to paint across his face – washing away instantly when you add, “but I’m going to the movies with Sarah.”

He’s nodding again, eyes fixed back on his boots. “Right, right.”

“…But maybe once we’re done I can swing by?”

“Oh, well – I’m workin’ late again. I’ll be out by the time…Yeah. Sorry, hon.”

“That’s okay.”

“Late one again tonight.”

“This, uh – what’s his name again? Kel–?”

“Kelman, yeah. Yeah. How ‘bout I call you tomorrow ‘n we can work somethin’ out? You and Sarah, you enjoy your night.”

You lean back from the counter, slowly more confident in your ability to hold yourself upright. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Dad.”

His lips press together in a flat attempt at a smile. “I’ll leave you to it. You mind if I…give you a hug?”

And then you’re the one awkwardly, forcedly smiling. Your teeth gritting behind taut lips. “Not at all,” you whisper, and wander carefully around the counter to where he stands.

He opens his arms and pulls you against his chest, your head tilting to rest your ear on his shoulder. You hook your arms under his, feeling his wrists crossing at your spine. Like two statues, two figures of stone fixing their crumbling bodies in an embrace, suddenly disjointed and ill-fitting. Your heart hurts beneath layers of rock, swelling in attempt to reach for his, shrinking back crestfallen when he feels too far.

He kisses the side of your head, pulls away, and taps your cheek once. “You know,” he says, letting you withdraw from his grasp, “I really miss you.”

You nod. “Miss you, too.”

“Let’s talk soon, alright?”

“Yeah.”

And then he’s leaving, drifting back out into the summer sun, rock disintegrating as the light catches him again. More human, less monster-under-your-bed. He’s just your dad again, just that swaying, bumbling man who used to sprinkle rainbow flakes over your ice cream and double-knot your laces.

The shadows of Sarah and Anna appear at your elbows, the three of you watching your dad sink into his car. You still feel made of rock, splitting somewhere down the middle as you stare at his figure.

“Well?” Sarah asks.

He turns right out of the parking lot, disappears behind a hedgerow.

“Yeah,” you reply, turning in a daze. “We’re gonna…gonna talk.”

“That’s good, right? That sounds…promising.”

You shrug. “I guess.”

Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, drawing your attention to her kind eyes and infectious smile. “We should probably get goin’,” she says, and you agree.

“What movie are you seeing?” Anna asks, filling your spot behind the counter as you turn, making for the back of the store.

“Barbie,” Sarah tells her.

“Nice. She paying?”

“Obviously. Mom duties.”

You kick the door closed on their giggles.

Two days pass without a word from your dad. No text, no call, no visit to Sal’s when you’re on shift the following day. By Monday, you’ve convinced yourself that the entire thing was a dream, a hallucination conjured up by your imagination in attempt to rid you of some of the guilt still chewing at your heart. Bat it out of your brain, like swatting the rear end of a wild animal let loose indoors.

Guilt which is only remedied, only soothed by Joel. By the feeling which overcomes your chest when you look at him – lungs faltering, heart leaping. The peace of falling asleep in his safe embrace, the heat from his body enough to keep you comfortable all night, and then waking up tangled in his sheets – the smell of bacon and eggs twirling through the house, the distant sound of his humming drawing you downstairs to his side.

Late nights on the porch, watching the sun bleed heavily into the sky. Your ankles in his lap, a guitar over his thigh. Thumb gentle on the strings, soft timbre of song lulling you to some place far from reality: the same rosy, dreamlike state you’ve mostly occupied since he dragged you through his front door, kicked your shoes and all of your worries to the side, and made you forget that anything bad had ever happened.

The most comfortable you’ve ever felt in your life, the most loved – a world where your every word is heard and weighed, rolling around Joel’s palms and slotting carefully into his back pocket. A world where his lips on your neck as you make dinner, where the crook of his arm catching you as you pass by, is all normal. Where I love you and I love you, too become the last words your sleepy ears hear at night, right before you sink into a shared sleep.

All of it becoming as natural as the pale moon switching for her golden sister at dawn. As instinctive as breathing.

“Have you ever made love to anyone?” you ask him one night, the aftershock of an orgasm still soaking into your skin.

Joel pauses, hips slowing between yours. “Yeah,” after a couple beats, “sure.”

“What’s it feel like?” you ask, honestly. Combing his dark hair through your fingers. “I’ve never…No one’s ever…”

“Baby,” he says. “We’ve done it. I’ve done it to you.”

Your body tenses and then melts around him. One blink and suddenly the world softens, seems to bow into the background – the only sharp object Joel, the twinkle in his eye piercing through the haze like blinking white stars in thick, dark clouds.

You whisper, “Can you do it again? So I can feel what it’s like?”

He pushes himself up, one elbow planted by your ear, the other hand lifting your thigh. Hooking it over his waist, lowering his arm again to cage you under his body. He nudges your chin with his nose, lifting it to line your lips with his, hold every part of your body as close to his as he can.

Deeper, in every sense of the word. Slow, hard. Eyes on you the entire time, watching the way your face contorts and your jaw slackens, holding the shape of your head in his hands, swallowing his own moans and grunts to make space between you for yours.

“Look at me, baby, eyes on me,” he says, and by instinct, your eyes roll forward, focusing or half-focusing on the slick hair at his forehead, the red flush climbing his neck, seeping into the skin under his beard. “You feel it? Feel where I’m goin’?”

And yeah, you whine, you do feel it. Feel him dragging you further away from this world and into the next – somewhere a plain away, somewhere new and different to anything you’ve ever known before. Where physicality is a language, a fluid conversation between the melding of his body and yours; where there are a million words swirling around his pupils, hypnotizing and entrancing and drawing you in until you’re tumbling headfirst into the inky pools.

Where I love you sounds like the groan Joel can’t hold back, feels like the pulsing flood as he snaps between your legs. Where making love is as simple as the squeeze of his hand around yours; the shove of his plate over the kitchen table, offering you the last bite of grilled cheese or simply admitting that it was yours before he’d even taken the first. That addictive laugh of his when you stall the fucking truck for the fifth time: You asked me to teach you, baby, I’m tryna teach you. Foot on the gas, c’mon. You got it. That’s it – now, slow. Slower. Try to feel it. No, really feel it.

Feel it. Really, try to feel it. Can you feel it? Do you know the difference yet? The difference between everyone who was before, and the one who is now? Do you finally get it?

“I feel it,” you cry out, and his frame holds yours together as you fall apart.

It feels like – you.

How did I ever know anything before I knew you?

“That one’s nice,” Joel says, his voice jumping the short distance between his lips and your ear.

You tilt your head, body moving with his when he lifts his hand to swipe through some more of the images. The spacious living room, newly refurbed kitchen, the view of downtown Los Angeles.

He adjusts the blanket draped over your legs. “Washer dryer, walk-in closet,” and then, leaning in closer, whispers, “a balcony. That’s cool.”

“Hm,” you turn to face him, your body shelled by his in the corner of his couch, “I bet you like the balcony, cowboy.”

He smiles plainly in response, squeezing your nose between two knuckles. Yeah. Lots you can do with a balcony.

A sharp gasp from across the room pierces the sweet moment. You and Joel turn in its direction, its owner wide-eyed and blinking at the TV.

“Wait a second,” Sarah yelps. “George is the John Doe?” She gasps again when Meredith announces the same news to her friends onscreen. “Shut – the fuck – up!”

“Language,” Joel clips, chest rumbling between your shoulder blades.

“Oh, like you didn’t have the exact same reaction. George is the…Oh, that sucks. Are you kidding me?” She fishes her phone from the waves of blanket surrounding her, thumbs rapidly typing, eyes shooting from screen to screen.

You snort, turning back to your own phone in your hand, when a text appears at the top of the screen.

Dad: Hey kiddo. Sorry to keep you waiting, work been hectic. Off the rest of today if you’re free to come over.

Your thumb latches onto the message, holding it for Joel to read, too, before letting it disappear off into your notifications.

He tightens his hold on you, burying his nose into the cotton of his own hoodie over your shoulders. His breath pushes heavy and thoughtful across the material. “Still seems as calm as the other day.”

“Too calm,” you admit, “it’s freaking me out.”

“What can he do, you know? You’re here, he’s there. Your dad ain’t an idiot, baby. He knows stayin’ angry about it’s only gonna push you further away.”

“Sure made ‘im feel like an idiot…”

Joel catches the comment and pockets it before it gathers enough weight to bruise. “Well,” he clears his throat, “it’s up to you. I ain’t letting you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Mhm,” you reply, and wait for more words to fall to your tongue. An answer, a response. A decision that you know you don’t feel equipped or even rightful to make.

“Do you want to go talk to him?” Joel asks.

“I…I want to make things right. I wanna fix it.”

“Okay. And will talking to him do that?”

You turn to face him, frowning. “I don’t fucking know,” you mutter. “Will it?”

He smiles sympathetically. “Wish I knew, darlin’. Would it help if I came? Sat outside in the truck, waited for you? It gets too much, you decide you wanna leave – we leave.”

“You ain’t scared to be near him again?”

He gulps back a laugh, Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly before he allows himself to answer. “Only thing scary about your dad is the sunlight reflectin’ off his damn head. No, I ain’t scared.”

You study him a minute longer, eyes roaming from the lips you could sketch every score of from memory, the beard you’re sure has forever altered your prints from the number of times you’ve run your fingers over the bristles. The eyes which know every secret, every whisper, every thought behind your own.

You sigh, smiling dumbly as he wraps his arms tighter around you. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Joel pulls up by the curb, parking politely at the end of your driveway rather than alongside your dad’s car, like he usually would. Like he used to.

You crane your head, looking past the shape of him to survey the unassuming house. Quiet, still. No sign of hurricane or earthquake, no tremors of rage or words like rocks raining down on the truck roof. Your thumb plunges into the buckle of your seatbelt, the webbing whipping over your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” Joel asks, watching your fingers lift to the door handle.

“Mhm,” you reply, distant. “’s just my dad, right? What’s the worst that could happen?”

His eyebrows lift, agreeing. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his lips. “Whatever it is,” he mumbles into your fingers, “if it happens, you come straight back out here, you hear? I ain’t moving.”

The urge to stay exactly where you are and let him carry you off back to his place overwhelms you for a brief second. To stay in the safety of the truck cabin, stay within touching distance of Joel. And as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. Overcome by the memory of that stony hug in Sal’s, the vacant, lonely eyes boring into late-night TV.

A sharp chap over your shoulder shocks you back to life. You twist in your seat, looking down at a face wrinkled by curiosity and wisdom, sheen of lipstick curved in a mischievous grin. You roll the window down, mirroring her smile.

“Joel Miller,” Rita calls, lowering her ring-adorned fist and pointing over to her car. “Help me with these groceries.”

“Afternoon to you, too, Rita,” he calls back, and she raises two thin, penciled eyebrows. His sigh trickles into a chuckle as he snaps the door open, leaning into you. “I ain’t moving,” he mutters, swinging out of the truck.

“Sure looks like you’re movin’,” you call back, letting Rita pull on your door to let you out.

“How are you, darlin’?” she asks. “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

You hop down beside her, helping her tug the shawl around her arms back over her shoulders. “Yeah, I’ve, uh…I’ve been busy.”

She nods, and then her eyes drift to somewhere behind you. “They go in the kitchen, son.” She points to her house. “I’ll come help you unpack ‘em.”

Joel’s face twists, eyes wide, hands outstretched. You swallow back a laugh when he looks to you, an almost teenage expression which asks, You seein’ this? as he turns back to the Nissan.

“I better go,” Rita says then, giving your arms one last squeeze. “You take care, now. Tell your dad I’m askin’ after ‘im.”

“I will, Rita.” You turn on your heel and saunter around Joel’s truck, giving him one last twirl as he hoists two bags under his muscled arms, rolling his eyes as you spin.

You pull the weight of yourself up your drive, passing past versions of yourself as you near the front door. She’s stumbling towards her dad’s car, a bucket of soapy water sloshing around between her knees. She’s sat on the curb, waiting for Joel’s truck to roll up, praying she never hears another Marty Robbins song again.

She’s naïve, still. Knows no better, knows no worse. Chasing a high, chasing the thrill of being caught and the thrill of nobody ever knowing. A relationship built entirely on lies and deceit. A love woven with dark threads of shame and anger, a tattered mess in one corner where the edges fray and loosen.

And you think: you’ve never felt more jealous of anybody your whole life.

The front door clicks open easily, like the building welcomes you home with a relieved sigh. You follow sunlight into the hallway, feeling it easier to walk through than before – less dense, less suffocating. Less guilty. An honest thief, back to return the bleeding heart she dragged out the door with her.

Secrets like shards of broken glass on the floor, debris from that day. And as if he hears the crunch of your footsteps, your dad appears at the bottom of the hall.

“Hi, hon.”

Eyes wide with a misplaced shock, you say, “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“’m good.”

“Good. Come in, come through.” He beckons you forward, a smile only half-forced on his lips. “You want a drink or anything?”

You follow him into the kitchen, politely accepting a glass of water when he offers it.

He turns with two steady palms on the island, watching as you drag a chair free and sit at the table. “How’s Joel?” he asks, swallowing roughly.

The words come delayed, your open mouth lying in wait. Your body selfishly trying to hoard the information, protective the second the image of that six-foot, two-hundred-pound man crosses your mind. “He’s fine. He’s out front.”

It sounds like a warning, though you don’t mean for it to. Just conversation. He’s helping Rita with her groceries. She’s asking after you, by the way. But your dad seems to sense the natural amber tone of it – the sparking of a flame, daring to catch. He’s waiting for this to go south.

He nods, accepting the fact of it. His own failed attempt to separate the two of you only drove you closer together. Only made you want Joel more.

But then he’s nearing you again, pulling out the chair opposite yours. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, settling with a sigh. “Glad we’re…we’re talkin’ again, at least.”

Your head angles. “Are we?”

His body jerks, flinching from the sting of the question. “Well,” his head wobbles, jowls quivering, “I sure hope so. I was takin’ it as a good sign that you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you repeat, “but that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”

“No, I know. I know. Joel’s out front, ‘n all that.” He looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. Holds his tongue behind his front teeth, waiting for the next turn of conversation.

You lean forward, elbows on the table, softening your voice. “Dad?” you say, and he looks up. “This whole entire thing – I think…I think we oughta try and understand each other, a little better. Hear each other out.”

“I am tryin’, hon. I’m really tryin’. You dealt me an awful lot to hear out ‘n understand.”

You rock back, sinking against the hard chair. Tracing the wood grains in the table, nails digging between. Shame coiling like a snake beneath your tongue, taking up too much space in your mouth. Its venom dripping between your teeth, acrid and sour; tendons in your neck jumping with the bitterness of your dad’s tone.

He sighs. “Be honest with me a second.”

“Huh?”

He waits a beat, watching you carefully. Opens his mouth, pauses, and then speaks. “Who instigated it?”

Your finger pushes harder into the surface. Digging new divots. “Um…kinda both of us. Was sort of a two-way thing from the get-go.”

His lips twist, almost imperceptible. He looks behind you to the patio outside. You can’t read what’s in his eyes. It makes you say more, say things you reckon you’ll regret later – but something to fill the silence between you. Something to let him sink his teeth into.

“There was flirting. Lotta flirting. And then it…it just sort of snowballed.”

“Snowballed.” He looks uncomfortable, lifting his hands to cup over his face. “I just didn’t take him as the type,” he says, muffled into his palms.

“As what type?”

He drops his hands, hitting his thighs with a slap, and looks you dead in the eye. Sad, almost. “Arthur Kennedy type.”

“He’s not.”

You say it instinctively. Your ears hear it at the same time your dad does. He looks at you blankly.

“He’s not,” you repeat, a little looser. Less hasty. “Look,” you sigh, “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…everything that we ever did, I wanted to do. I already told you. There ain’t nothing we did that I didn’t ask him to. I swear to you.”

You think back to the cookout, how angry Joel was at the thought of Arthur Kennedy hanging over you. How pissed he’d be, hearing your dad line him up against that old leather boot of a man. Comparing, contrasting. Here’s how you measure up, son. How much of a phantom Arthur Kennedy has been, your whole life, and how much of a sanctuary Joel is in comparison.

Your stomach twists at the thought. A tight knot, wound by a desperation to clear the name of a man whose worst offense was doing exactly what your dad would’ve told him to: leave.

“This whole thing,” you go on, “it’s a mess, alright? It’s – totally fucked. And we shouldn’t’ve lied, shouldn’t’ve been keeping things from you, but then…what did you expect?”

Your dad cuts in like a bullet: “I expect the two of you not to do what you were doin’.”

“No, I know that. But we did it, right? It’s done now. I meant, did you really want us to sit you down in the living room ‘n say, Hey, Dad – guess what?”

He grimaces at the thought.

“Didn’t think so. We didn’t even know what it was. We had no idea what it’d turn into. But you gotta hear me out: it wasn’t just…some fling, or whatever you’re thinkin’. I swear, Dad, it wasn’t.”

He still doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t lift his stare from the table. You feel like a little kid, desperate to make him love you again. Desperate to make him listen. The space between you fills with the bored tick tick tick of the kitchen clock. Each second hurting a little more than the last.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry I let you down, but…I’m not sorry that I did it. If I could go back, knowing everything I know – I’d do it all over again.”

The words roll across the table to him like billiards. You lean back again, watching them as they rattle from his side to yours – your sentence delivered back into your ears. You nod, a sure thought in your mind.

I’d do it all over again. All the covering, all the hiding. The aching, the wishing and wanting. Staring at Joel’s empty hand, dying to slot yours into it. Dying to put any part of yourself near him; your head under his chin, your arms linked around his waist. Knowing you two would feel, knowing everyone else would see, just how perfectly you fit together.

The chasing your own tails: Did you lie well enough? Do they suspect anything? Did we leave any evidence? Disturbed sheets, a collar still upturned. Can they hear us? Have they noticed we’re missing? We’re always fucking missing.

You’d do it all over again. You know what it cost, now, sat directly opposite the price. His polite smiles like veneers over rotten teeth. The tremble in his lip when he opens his mouth to speak.

And it was worth it. Joel. He was worth it all, in the end.

All over again.

“Do you know that every time I look at you, there are…probably four versions that I see?”

You frown. Did he hear what you just said? All ov–? “What?”

Your dad laughs to himself. “When you walk outta that door, I see a little pink backpack over your shoulders. Gym bag in your hand, maybe. I see missin’ front teeth, I see those little clip-on earrings you used to love so much.

“And – and when you’re mad at me, when we fight, I see you at fourteen. Growing pains, y’know? I still remember you slamming your bedroom door in my face, all ‘cause I wouldn’t let you go to that girl Molly’s birthday party.” He looks up, smiling at your perplexed expression.

“I don’t even…remember that, hardly.”

“Long time ago now. My point is,” he continues, “you’re twenty-three. You’re grown. And I just can’t figure out how to make those other versions…grow with you. You still feel like my kid. Still that little girl with the pink backpack.”

“But,” you clear your throat, trying to swipe her from your own memory, “I’m not. I’m not her anymore, Dad. And I think maybe you gotta give me the space to be someone different, now.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, nodding. “I know, I know. I just didn’t think this new version of you would…y’know. Be with Joel, ‘n all. That is something I did not see comin’.”

“You think I did?” You spit a laugh. “If you told me when I came home that this is what was waiting for me…that I was gonna fall…”

Your teeth close around the sentence, dropping your dad’s eye. But it’s too late.

He stares back at you like the sun. “…Fall in love with ‘im?”

And you cower. You wince, almost. The last secret. The last thing he doesn’t know. “I don’t…I don’t know, I –”

“You love him. You do, don’t you?”

Your thumbs run circles around one another, fingers locking until your knuckles hurt. “I don’t know,” you mumble, wishing for the tenth time since you sat down that Joel was beside you, in front of you, around you.

“’s what Anna seems to reckon.”

Your eyes flit up. “Anna?”

He hums. “She is her father’s daughter. A damn meddler. She called here, last night.”

“Oh, Jesus,” you groan, head falling into your hands. “Ignore her, please. Ignore all of it. She doesn’t –”

He holds a palm up. “Now, hold on. You don’t even know what it was she said.”

You huff a sigh, twisting your hand in the air. Go on.

“She reckons you do love him. Reckons he loves you back. More, if that’s even possible, she said. Told me all about the way he stepped in front a’ that boy at Frank’s. About your face when he picked you up from rodeo night, how ecstatic you were. The difference she sees in you.”

“Difference,” you scoff, glancing out to the backyard. “What difference?”

“Same difference I see, probably. Same difference Bill said he saw, too: you’re happier. Even I can’t deny it, hon. It’s damn hard – you never make nothin’ easy on your old man – but…but I am willing to try.”

The hurt begins to slowly fizzle away. Cooling, washing from your skin like foamy waves. Curiosity left to shine through.

“You may not understand this ‘til you have kids of your own – if you have kids of your own – but there ain’t a thing in this world that I love more than I love you. And when you love somethin’ that much, you’ll do anything to stop it from getting hurt. Anything. That’s all I want you to know.”

A silence falls between you, thoughtful and waiting. The clock’s ticking grows sharper again. It seems to consider the same as you: there should be more to this. More to be said, to be convinced. More yelling, even.

But you arrive at the same conclusion, at near enough the same time: there is nothing more. Cards flat on the table, eyes pouring all over them. To question it, to second-guess any of it, would be to tempt fate.

“Anyway,” your dad sits forward, clasping his hands on the table, “tell me what’s goin’ on. What’s been happening in your world?”

You shrug. A little, shy thing. “Work. Been hanging with Sarah a lot. And I, uh, I had a job interview last week.”

“Oh, yeah? Where?”

You shift awkwardly in your chair. “For, uh…that one in LA. They called to offer it a couple days ago.”

A smile pulls across his lips. Growing, growing, growing until he’s grinning back at you. Pride, little bit of surprise. Whole lot of amusement and joy. “You take it?” he asks, figuring he knows the answer already.

“Not yet,” you reply. “Think I’m going to, though. ‘s too good to say no.”

He lifts his eyebrows in agreement, looking down at his hands. Shoulders lurch some under the weight of your news. “There goes that little backpack,” he mutters to himself, and you smirk.

“Can’t hold her back forever.”

“I never had a hold on her in the first place. You were walkin’ on outta that door the minute you found your own two feet.”

You snort. “Good! Good for me. Let me go out into the big ol’ world; let me go fuck it all up ‘n come home for dinner once I’m done.”

“I intend to,” your dad says, nodding along to every passionate word you say. And then he asks, “How’s Joel feelin’ about it all? About LA?”

Your shoulder jerks in a half-shrug. “He’s fine, I guess. Says he’ll miss me, but then – we haven’t exactly had the most typical relationship up until now. Survived a lot I reckon would break any normal couple…”

It’s the first time you think you’ve ever said it. Couple. You’ve thought of it – flicked through the words you might use to describe him. Your boyfriend, your partner. None of them seem to fit exactly who he is to you. None of them strong enough to carry the weight of what’s shared between you. He’s Joel. He’s your Joel. Nothing will ever come close.

Your dad hears it, too. The newness of it. The crisp shape of the word, not yet thawed to this new world. Your tongue still learning how to pronounce it, how to pair it with the image of Joel.

“Guess he can fly out ‘n visit whenever, right?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, “and I’ll be back here, too. Christmas ‘n all.”

Your dad smiles. Relieved, assured. Light slowly returning to his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” your chest swells, “so Joel says. I trust ‘im.”

You both quieten, sitting back in your chairs. What once felt like a room ablaze, flames tearing the skin from your body as you dragged your heels through it – now feels like a gentle warmth. Waves wrought with enough power and force to destroy you, now seeping off with the change of the tide. Bumps on the horizon.

“Speaking of,” you say, making to stand, “I should probably get goin’.”

“Yeah. Yeah, hon.” Your dad follows, arm on your shoulder as he walks you down the hall.

The sun intrudes, tosses herself into your arms as you pull the front door open. In her golden-rayed wake sits that dark truck, same as always. The same dark tee, the same dark-speckled-gray hair. Arms folded, stood against the body, waiting. Eyes on the house, on your figure as you step down onto the doormat. Joel straightens when your dad follows you out, chest sucking in a ragged breath.

They look at one another, and that’s about it. Something of a nod from Joel – not quite returned by your dad. You figure that might take some time to come back around. And that’s okay. You can make peace with it.

You turn back. Your dad’s looking down at you, hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

“You know,” you take a deep breath, “the only times he’s ever hurt me, are the times he’s left. The times I haven’t had him around.”

And then you step back, the magnet in your chest telling you it’s time to return to its partner.

In high school, your English teacher tasked the class with writing a short story. Any genre you wanted, any word count up to two thousand. The boys mostly dicked around, wrote action-packed, blood-and-guts garbage. One girl wrote something you’re sure you’d seen in a Hallmark movie before.

But you – you spent two weeks straight, writing. Awake until all hours of the night, hunched over your laptop, sunbathing in the blue hue of an open document. Fingers hammering rapidly into your keyboard.

A man and a woman meet in Central Park. She – hair the color of rust, spilling down her shoulders and lifting at the ends, twisting around the fingers of the blustery wind. A red glow around her third finger where gold once lived. Sat on a bench, alone. Hiding, perhaps. And he – sharp suit and tie, clean-shaven, a steel-blue gaze that might cut glass. Missing the city traffic by taking a walk through the park on his way home. Fleeing, perhaps.

He notices her trench coat first. Bright red, a poppy swaying in the breeze. A little hopeless, a solemn wilt to it. The quickly dampening fire of her hair in the rain, the opaque sheen of polish chipping from her nails. And he thinks he recognizes the constellation of freckles painted across her cheeks. Thinks he might’ve mapped them, once, in some kind of past-life.

She looks up and realizes she recognizes the cut of his gaze. Piercing through her, splitting her in two. Thinks she might’ve felt it before, the opening of her soul to someone who looked just like him – a little more baby-faced, a little more spirited. In some kind of past-life, too.

She stands, and he slows, and they meet somewhere in the middle. Words exchanged; body heat transferred through hugs. Is that really you? You look so different. It’s been years. He doesn’t ask about the lack of jewelry on her third finger. She doesn’t ask about the gray circles beneath his eyes. Just, You wanna grab a coffee? and, Yeah. Yeah, I do.

They sit at the window, watch the yellow taxis and the black umbrellas and the trembling traffic lights. They talk about life then, life now, and silently agree to forget about the part in the middle. They look at each other the same way they must have before they lost one another, before life and love and everything else got between them.

They agree to meet again in a week. They swear that they will not fall back in love.

They know as well as each other that they’re really promising to do just that.

Love – twisted and turned over and over, until it’s a different shape altogether. We started as one thing, and we watched it shift into something completely different. Clay in the potter’s hands. Didn’t you think it might fall apart? There was a moment I thought the heat of the kiln might break us. I’m glad it didn’t. I’m glad we’re made of tough stuff.

I’m glad I found you again, in that park. The pissing rain and the wind so strong I felt it lifting the sense from my mind. In that hardware store, in that bar filled with weed and bad intentions. I’m glad you split me open, glad you could see the good that was still inside. I thought I’d lost her for a minute. Thought she’d forgotten her way home.

Let’s go get a coffee. Let’s pretend it’s always been this way.

Let’s fall in love. The rest will take care of itself.

It takes three weeks in total to properly pack up your things. Two days after you accepted the job, you bought boxes and tape, and began to dismantle the identity you’d spent twenty-three years creating for yourself, a little bit at a time. Taking apart the pink-walled museum of your life, artefact by artefact.

Joel has helped as much as you’ve let him. Laid back on your bed when you’ve dismissed him one too many times, raised his eyebrows and laughed with you whenever you come across some old, forgotten piece of memorabilia. Something ceremonial to it, something innocent and fun. Like a little graduation for all the parts of yourself.

Soon, as the last of the summer sun dampens outside, your room lies vacant. Empty of any real evidence of your being here. Bedsheets and pillows folded, packed away; framed photos and posters unpinned from the wall and wrapped up safely. Drawers and closets barren, left with a selection of your less-loved, less-worn clothes. A wardrobe built from stuff you’ll only ever wear when you come back home to visit, if even then.

Joel’s sat on the bare mattress, looking around your room. You’re stood opposite, leaning against your half-empty dresser. The sun filters feebly through your turned shades, averting her eyes.

You look over at him. Golden, like the sunlight outside. Warm, like the breeze through the trees. Yours. Yours yours yours.

“What?” Joel asks, his eyes having finally found their way back to you. He smiles at your focused expression.

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just…”

“Talk to me. Tell me.”

“You are – this is…” You sigh. “This is good. I think it’s good. Not just all the stuff we did. But you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you tell him. “You’re good for me.” You grip the wooden lip tighter, swaying nervously when you add, “But I think it was always gonna go this way, wasn’t it?”

He sniffs. Shoulders jerk in a weak shrug. “Yeah, I think so, baby.”

Your eyelashes flutter, soothing the prickling feeling of tears forming. “I don’t – I don’t know if I want it to.”

“Yeah,” Joel says through a groan, pushing himself up, “you do.”

You shake your head as he approaches, and his hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling your body tight against his. Your face buries in his chest; your tears wet on his shirt. He shushes you, rocks you gently back and forth with a hand on the back of your head. “Listen to me.”

“Joel –”

“Listen to me.” He pulls you back, swipes the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they fall. “We’re fine. We are going to be fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you –”

“I know, I know. But you want to go do this. And that’s okay. Both of ‘em, at once.”

Your head shakes again. Like an instinctive reaction to the thought of being separated from him.

Joel smiles softly. “I am going to miss you like hell. You got no idea. But,” he pulls your head back to face his, tucks your hair behind your ear, “I want you to go. You gotta go after this. Right?”

“I know,” you whisper, lungs lurching for breath. “I just – wish it didn’t mean leavin’ you.”

“Darlin’…” Joel coos, pulling you in again. “You know how much I love you? What do I keep tellin’ you? We’ll be alright. It’s you ‘n me, right?”

You nod, salty tears slipping between your lips onto your tongue. When you look up, you notice the same expression on Joel’s face. He blinks his own away before they fall.

“’s you ‘n me,” you repeat, and he pulls your lips together.

You roll your tongue onto his, letting him taste you – all of you. Your mouth, and your thoughts, and your tears, and your pain. You let him take it all, let him hold it for this moment as you breathe him in, let his body fill yours in every way.

Your hands are in his hair, your chest pressed against his; he’s every thought on your mind and every beat in your heart. He’s the blood thrumming through your veins, he’s the oxygen filling your lungs; he’s the words between your teeth and the flesh around your bones.

And he pulls you, and you follow, his shirt in your fist, over to the bed where he lays you gently and falls on top.

“When’s he get back?” he asks, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Later,” you mumble, your fingers picking at the hem of his shirt.

He pushes back, letting you tug it up up up over his shoulders at the same rate he peels your tee from yours, both tossing each other’s clothes to somewhere else in the room. Jeans undone, shorts dragged from your hips, underwear discarded until you’re naked under him, and he’s naked over you, and there’s nothing and no one between.

Joel cradles you, holds you close as he presses a palm roughly against the underside of your thigh, opening your body to him in a way only he’s mastered. In a way you only would, for him.

His hand cups your sex, fingers nudging between your folds, pushing in when your jaw slackens and a wanton moan echoes from your throat across Joel’s tongue.

“Yeah,” he coos, wrist jacking between your legs, “’s my girl. Gotta get you warmed up, huh? Get you nice ‘n wet.”

Your back arches, arms linking around his neck to pull him closer, pull him deeper. Hold him tight enough to you that your bodies feel one, feel connected at the meeting of Joel’s hand and the most intimate part of you; the meeting of your tongues between teeth.

And you gasp, the nudging of his fingers against the deepest part of your body, the messy circles of his thumb on your clit. The shape of him, solid and warm against the seam of your thigh.

You reach down for him, wrapping your fingers around his cock, and his breath hitches. Teeth bump into yours. You’re fucking irresistible to him.

“Darlin’,” his voice is low, daring you to keep going, “you wanna cut this short ‘fore we’re even started?”

You breathe a laugh into his jaw, hot and needy. “You get to play with me,” you whine, “I wanna play with you, too.”

Joel growls, seizing his movements, leaning back in what you take as him granting full access to his body. But then he says, “Turn around,” in a strict voice you’ve come to know as meaning one thing, and you pause.

You peel your eyes from his dick to blink up at him. “Turn –?”

“– around, now.” He takes your waist, hoisting you up until you’re straddling him, holding you inches above his body. “Turn.”

“What the fuck are you –?”

“Many times do I gotta tell you? You said you wanted to play.” He twists your waist until you follow his movements, swinging one leg over the other. He grabs your hips, tugging you back towards his face. “So, play,” he mutters, lowering your cunt down to his lips.

You gasp, falling forward and hitting the mattress between his legs. “J– fuck me. Are you s-serious?” You moan, hips rocking against the feeling of his bearded chin at your clit. “You’re like – a fucking – horny teenager. Oh, fuck.”

Your head falls forward, hands splaying out over his thighs, before your eyes refocus and you notice the hardened shape of him, tip oozing precome all over the hair-spattered plain of his groin. Your hand lifts, shakily taking hold of him again, and you lean down.

Elbows hooked over his thighs, you bring his tip to your lips, letting a thick bead of saliva fall and drip down the length of him, meeting your closed fist to be dragged up and down.

Joel’s hips almost buck. He holds it, manages to catch it, but you spot it. You’ve done this too many fucking times not to notice the reaction you draw from him.

“’s good,” you whisper, circling your hips on his face, tongue slipping across his cherry-red tip. “Feels so good.”

He responds in the form of a deep groan, rattling from his chest through your clit, shocking like lightning up your spine until the very same noise is thrown from your lips. You push down, tongue molding around every vein and the slow curve of his cock until your lips meet the thick brush of hair at his base, his tip kissing the very back of your throat.

Your throat which jumps, jolts at the feeling of something intruding – before you’re retreating again, pulling him from your body, warm, wet spit linking the two of you when you come up for air. And then you sink back down, head moving up down up down up down as his stomach tenses beneath your chest.

Joel’s palms keep a heavy hold on your ass, his tongue lapping between your folds like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted – like he might die if he doesn’t get his fix of you. And you think, they are, and he might, as your cheeks hollow and you bow down over him again.

You establish a rhythm, two waves swirling between one another: your hips rocking, Joel’s lifting ever so slightly as you suckle on one another. Your hand fisting the parts of him you can’t quite reach, not without choking; Joel holding you fixed to his jaw, letting the tip of his tongue hook around your swollen clit, then dragging it down until he’s letting you ride the wet muscle.

The approach of your first orgasm, a tiny spark catching to life in the pit of your belly, incites you with a need to open up further for him. Your throat taking more of him, your thighs slackening as you drive your cunt harder against his mouth.

“’m so close,” you whimper, lips curving around his cock. “So – fucking – ah, keep doin’ that. Right th-there.”

His hands hook around your thighs, tongue darting across your clit. His nose nudges somewhere between your folds, quickly becoming coated in the slick you’re leaking all over him.

“Joel,” you say, fists pumping his cock. Your voice a warning: it’s coming. You’re gonna – Fuck, you’re gonna come.

His voice is looser, more of a shrug of the shoulders when he pulls away from you. He inserts two fingers, curls them like before, like he knows drives you fucking insane. “Let go, babygirl,” he murmurs, lips immediately returning to position. And then, muffled and rough: “Come all over me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you pant, hands squeezing around his cock, feeling that same spark ignite into flame, your entire body bursting with heat.

Your high rips through you, battering through each vein in your system, each nerve electrified. You collapse between his legs, his rough pubic hair sticking to the sweat on your chest, hips rutting wildly against the sharp cut of his jaw.

The mattress absorbs most of the desperate moan which streaks across your tongue, nails digging hard into the flesh of Joel’s thighs. And you hear the deep sound of his voice, the thud thud thud of a chuckle against your clit: the cocky fucker laughing to himself as he unravels you for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Alright,” Joel says, more to himself than to the fucked-out shape of you between his legs. He sits up and shifts you carefully down the bed, settling you face-down on the mattress and lifting your ass to meet his hips. “Okay?” he asks, kneeling behind you.

You feel his tip between your legs, slotting happily somewhere in your opening. Waiting for your response. A response you don’t feel able to give, as much as you’d like to; your lips puffy and confused, words jumbling behind them in a tangle of bliss and love.

“Baby,” Joel says, hand slinking down your back, pressing gentle circles into the nape of your neck. “You okay?”

Your head lifts, glancing over your shoulder to see his hairy torso, his thick arms caging over you. He lifts your chin with two fingers, cranes your neck up until you’re looking into his eyes, heavy lids blinking dumbly.

“Just fuck me,” you whisper, and Joel slips his tongue into your mouth.

You used to dream of coming back home. A few years away, doing whatever you wanted, wherever you wanted. Dreaming things up and then chasing them until they happened. Tiring yourself out, lungs gasping for breath and eyes always searching, always looking for a new target to pin up. But always coming back.

Austin, Texas. Its jagged skyline, the streets lined with a vibrant glow and star-spangled bunting. The river like a silver-bellied snake slithering through. Home.

You dreamt of living out your days here, once your blood had slowed and your mind settled. A quiet life in the country, a big wooden house with a wraparound porch. Two little rocking chairs, so you and whoever your husband turned out to be could sit and watch the sky fade from red into orange into white and then dull gray into deep blue.

Breeze kissing your cheek, his lips kissing your knuckles.

Joel.

Home.

You tell him, and he smirks. “That so?” he asks, wrapping his arms a little tighter around your naked body.

You nuzzle your cheek into the palm of his hand, breathing in the sweet scent of sweat and sex sitting in the air. “Mhm. You could play guitar until the stars come out.”

He hums in agreement. “Sounds like a pretty good dream. Tell you what: you go to LA, do what you gotta do. By the time you come back, there’ll be a big ol’ farmhouse, wraparound porch, rollin’ fields for the dogs. Coffee ‘n sunsets. How’s that sound?”

“And you’ll be there?”

He smiles. Scoops you in one arm and rolls you onto your front, chest to chest with him. His fingers ghost down the curve of your shoulder. “Baby,” he whispers, “I built the damn thing.”

It forces a laugh from your chest, something you’ve gotten used to by now. Joel and his ability to steal a giggle from you, the dumbest moments seeming the funniest. “You’re gonna build me a damn house?” you ask, chin resting between his pecs.

“That what you want?”

Your head rocks left to right, considering. “I just want you. That’s all.”

“Then you got me. I’m all yours.”

In his hazel eyes lives every moment you’ve ever shared. Every conversation, every kiss, every fight. Every minute he’s spent looking for you or at you, every minute you’ve spent looking back at him. It’s all in there. You see it like a movie reel, frame by frame.

It lands like a slot machine on that first night. Cleaning up after pizza. Shoulder to shoulder by your kitchen sink. You wish you’d just kissed him. Even with your dad right there. Wish you’d lifted your heels and put your lips on his, just for the fucking hell of it. Just to condense all of it, every second of longing and hurt and pain into one fleeting moment.

Wish you’d pulled him into you, against you, the weight of his body like an old friend. Welcomed it with open arms, like you’d spent your entire life missing it, waiting for it to come back to you. Let yourself feel your own heart, peeling between the cage of your ribs, reaching out for his. Always reaching for him.

Wish you’d looked him in the eye, tears softening the tufts of graying hair, vignetting the smirk only you can tell is there. Looked at him in that knowing way, that language only you two know; the glint in your eyes translating a thousand messy words into three. Just three – the simplest, lightest words you’ve ever known.

I love you. Let’s skip to the good part.

[pookietv]

apologies, apologies | arthurtv

hello! i am back (sorry it's been so long pookies) so pls accept my humble offering now i am back !!!

cw: smut, slightly toxic, overstim

small pieces of anger had boiled in your blood as you had woke up this morning, a slight whirlwind following you around as you ignored your phone, and meandered around your house.

you and arthur had plans last night. he was going to come round, you had bought all the stuff to make him dinner, the ingredients for his favourite left sat lonely in your fridge, the caramel-chocolate cookies you had baked now boxed up in tupperware, the sight of your kitchen a slightly depressing one.

was it the biggest deal in the world? no, of course not. he forgot.

but it pissed you off. no call, no text, no check up on you at all. you hadn't bothered to remind him, you had figured if the three times you confirmed the night with him weren't enough, then he didn't care that much anyways, right?

you had barely seen him recently - you knew he was busy, and with his line of work, his form of working often meant being around his friends a lot.

but it still bothered you that all of his time had become devoted to seeing his friends - last night was supposed to be the first time you had seen him in almost two weeks, between him having to travel for work and having busy schedules, you felt forgotten.

so your plan of last night, a sweet night in with your boyfriend, with a film and nice food and attention you had been desperately craving from him, had went down the drain, and the bitterness had set in.

you decided cleaning your house was the task to distract you, and your bedroom was the place to begin. the odd piece of clothes scattered across the floor, mugs on the bedside table and misplaced knick-knacks began to return to their rightful areas.

it wasn't until you heard padding, decisive footsteps across your hallway that your ears pricked, and you scrunched your face up curiously.

as you turned to your bedroom door, about to face whoever had intruded into your house, your bedroom door swung wider open, and you were met with a slightly harsh faced arthur.

"why aren't you answering my calls?" he said, his voice slightly stern, and steadied, "had to come all the way to your apartment just to make sure you were alive."

"oh, so now you can make time to come see that i'm alive?" you huffed slightly, and you saw his eyes narrow in confusion.

"what are you on about?" he murmured dismissively.

you felt your eyes roll slightly, "last night? you were supposed to come round?"

realisation sunk into his face slightly, and whilst you hoped some form of guilt may follow that, a slight huff came instead, "oh, don't be so clingy, it's not a big deal." he said, decisively.

"clingy? i've missed you, arthur, you were away for a whole week filming and then you come back, barely see me and just keep ignoring me?" you said, eyes slightly doe-ish and the feeling of annoyance still irritating you like a bug.

"oh, come on, i'm here now, aren't I?" he murmured, voice lowered slightly, honeyed as he stepped slightly closer to you, finger gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, the soft touch of his finger sweeping across your skin spreading a warmth through your cheeks.

you tried so desperately to hold onto your anger, and not let yourself disarm so quickly, but god it was so easy to forgive him when his dark brown wide eyes looked down at you like some sort of charming spell, lulling you in, fingers still gently twisting the lock of hair he had just tidied away behind your ear.

"arthur, s'not that simple, i'm still annoyed, you barely even-"

"shh, i know, i know, you're still angry. let me make it up, hm?" he murmured, so close his breath spread like a fan down your neck, gently leaning in and connecting his lips to your jawline, and any resolve you had melted away, and you figured you could always curse yourself for it later.

his finger lent use to tilt your jaw up slightly, as you felt his stubble brush against the skin of your neck, as his lips setted against the crook of it now, pressing gentle kisses in a trail against you, achingly close to your collarbones as you allowed your hands to creep up and find placement on the back of his neck, fingers gently playing with the shortened section at the back.

his other hand went to the hem of your shirt, teasingly running his thumb along where it settled against your lower stomach, each slight touch making you embarrassingly needy, a slight whine leaving your lips as you heard a softened chuckle from him.

your anger had been such a fragile thing, so easily displaced by even the slightest of intoxicating touch from him.

"arthur," you murmured, cheeks flush red and each breath hitched, still on the border between being filled with fury at him, and throwing that all away in a desperate attempt to fill the hole that had been so neglected by arthur being away for two weeks.

he smirked a little down at you, lifting his head from the crook of your neck, "i know, lovie. knew you wouldn't be angry for long, hm?" he said, voice dripping with a saccharine tone, his own eyes slightly darkened with lust.

it was all you could do not to pathetically whine as he gently pushed you to the bed, you still sat up against your headboard, leaning down to you and pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, thumbs gently pushing up your shirt as your widened, pleading eyes only stoked the fire in him.

"you look so pretty when you're deciding whether you're cross with me or need me," he teased, pulling the shirt off your head with ease, a slight cocky smirk gracing his face, before his lips went to the front of your chest, one hand resting against your hip as his groaned against your skin, his teeth lightly grazing against your perked nipple.

you had easily become putty to him, malleable to his charm as your hand gently grasped at his upper arm, squeezing slightly as i let out a soft sigh at the touch of his facial hair against you, not too rough to hurt but instead just a warm blossom of slight burn against your chest.

he pushed his thumbs into the waistband of the soft pajama shorts you were wearing, edging down both them and the lacy panties you wore underneath them, slow and teasingly, making a slight impatient huff of air leave you as you looked at arthur pleadingly.

his head dipped lower, his body held up between your legs as one hand rested against your lower stomach, his eyes glazed over as he took in the sight of you, bared in front of him, arousal practically drooling from you as he grinned to himself. he pressed a soft kiss to your hipbone, then the lightest kiss against your clit, only eliciting more whines to fall from you.

"so wet already, hm?" he said, voice thick with control as all you could muster out was a pleading, "please, arthur."

the pad of his thumb gently edged against your sensitive spot, drawing agonisingly slow circles against you, as he looked up at you with a smirk, "what, sweetheart, you want me?" he said, voice full of mock surprise.

"need you," you murmured back, feeling helpless to each move arthur made - all you could do was pray he would take pity on you and end the slow, torturous teasing.

"i'll give you whatever you need if you accept my apology," he grinned, his thumb drawing small circles drawing to a stop, his face agonisingly close to your soaked cunt, each breath he drew and released making you squirm a little more.

"see? look how sorry i am, hm?" he mumbled out, between placing gentle kisses on the sensitive inside skin of your thighs, trailing upwards, reaching dangerously close to where you needed him, as he looked up at you with his big brown eyes that seemed to melt anyone.

"arthur," you babbled out, reduced to begging from even the simplest of touches against him, "please, i forgive you, need you so bad," you whined, watching his eyebrow raise for just a moment before he dipped his head back down, arms pushing your legs upwards slightly, to rest over his shoulders as his lips attached to you, tongue gently trailing from your entrance to your clit, making an embarrassingly loud moan fall from your lips.

the slight stubble that had lightly grazed your chest before was at much better use now, the rough burn a welcome addition as you felt your poor sensitive inner thighs begin to be rubbed raw, however it was too mindspinningly good to even care about tomorrows pain now.

his mouth gave a slight bit of suction, leaving the breath to be sucked from your lungs as his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud, your hips bucking with each movement in a pathetic attempt for more, which was only greeted by a muffled and cocky chuckle from arthur, one of his hands squeezing your thigh a slight bit tighter.

he was lapping against you like a man starved, any time your thighs twinged slightly closer together he was the first to push them apart, pushing his head closer to you, as if he could be any closer.

any inhibition or thoughts you had previously been able to have were practically incinerated, one hand of yours resting in arthurs hair, not tugging but just another feeble attempt at being as connected as physically possible as desperate whimpers fell from your lips like a prayer, arthurs muffled grunts only spurring you on as you pleaded gently.

fast figures of eight were painted against you as it was all you could concentrate on to try and keep your hips still - at least relatively so, but with every slight movement you bucked against his mouth, almost pathetically.

one of his hands went to your hipbone, gently pushing down as he looked up at you, eyes glossed and lidded, as you could feel your own head push back, your brain completely fogged and all responses had become increasingly needy whines, reaching closer to being considered completely dumb.

he couldn't help his eyes being etched onto every movement you made, each twist and contortion serving a reminder that he got to be the one to do this to you, a sick sense of gratification spread around his own body.

each breath had become a battle for a gulp of thick air, a familiar tightness gracing your stomach, and it was all you could do to grasp at the sheet beside you and screw your eyes shut, the all too familiar peak bounding closer as he feverishly lapped against you, the increased pace and newfound harshness pushing you over the edge, frenzied whines torn from your throat as your lower body practically went limp, euphoria dizzying your head as the familiar knot snapped, moans tumbling from you as your muscles relaxed against the mattress.

arthur on the other hand, had become completely buried in the bliss, groans leaving him as he lapped against you, leaving you to squirm and whine in overstimulation his hands only gripped at your thighs tighter, leaving you unable to move, just babbling whimpers falling from your lips, as he paused for a moment only to reassure, "come on, sweetheart, you can take a little more... been two whole weeks without the taste of you, need you for a little longer," he murmured before burying his head back between your legs without a moment for you to respond.

all you wanted was to desperately please him, as black spots clouded your vision and tears pricked your eyes whilst you fell into a complete oblivion, the orgasm-ecstasy mixed with the ache of your poor throbbing core was a pain that you had somewhat grown to love, whilst fighting the overwhelming urge to jerk your hips with every slight movement, tightly wound.

he only became more sloppy, the mix of spit and arousal coating the bottom half of his face, your fingers curling into his hair as a plea for release, your core only becoming more overstimulated by the second as he failed to slow down, your hips jerking desperately as a tug on his hair made him come to, and he looked at you with an apologetic grin as he pulled away.

"atta girl, did such a good job," he murmured out, proud smirk plastered on his face, his arm raising to quickly wipe his face as he lifted himself up, hand quickly moving to card through your hair in a sincere manner, a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, "knew you could take a little more, you always like the ache," he said, matter of factly. and you hated that he was right, the frenzied end of arousal always a desperate act to see how long you could go, how much you could really take, a game arthur so desperately loved playing.

you giggled a slight bit, breath still panting and face flushed red as you were basically rendered immobile, your limbs closer to jelly, "uh huh, just went a little too long," you said gently, tucked next to arthur in a slightly needy post-orgasm haze.

"just got too focused, could do that all day if you'd let me," he grinned a little cheekily, and you rolled your eyes playfully, allowing your bodyweight to rest against arthurs chest in a sobering state, "although, i may mess up more if that's the way i get to make it better,"

you gave him a slight stern look, and he laughed a little, holding a hand up in mock apology, "kidding, i'm kidding." he confirmed, "i just know how easy it is for you to forgive me when i'm between your legs, and i mean fuck, i'm not complaining."

"for the love of god, don't leave me alone for another two weeks," you joked back in return, and he nodded his head, a smirk still stuck there.

"how on earth could i leave you for another two weeks when you just reminded me how much you need me?"

"don't joke, i missed you," you said, in a coy voice, and he chuckled slightly in response.

"i know, lovie. i missed you too." he murmured gently, pressing another kiss to your hairline as your eyes shut momentarily in bliss, "love you, you know. i'm sorry i was shitty, i really do love you."

[janeyseymour]

Secrets

hi! so, an anon asked for this. i had a LOT of fun with this one, and i hope you enjoy! literally not edited in the slightest because this one wrote itself and i don't have time to read over 9k words.

summary: You're Ava's friend, and that is enough to make Melissa hate you. But then, through volunteering for different events through the school, the redheaded teacher finds that she's falling for you. You have money, not that anyone knows, and when the school desperately needs money, you anonymously donate a generous amount. Of course, the Abbott crew isn't satisfied with not knowing who donated all of that money, and they sure as hell intend to find out.

WC~9.4k

You grew up with a lot of money. You don’t even need this job- Daddy still has you covered and pays for most of your expenses, as much as you continue to tell him that you are perfectly capable of making it on your own. You have enough saved up from all of the ridiculous amounts of money you received from past birthdays, as well as high school and college graduation presents, not to mention the fact that you have a good portion of money invested into different stocks, and you’re doing pretty damn well for yourself.

Dad taught you all about personal finances when you were younger- he’s a successful day trader, but he’s always been on the financial side of business work to begin with, and Mom is a lawyer.

And while you had quite a lavish lifestyle, your parents still chose to reside in Philadelphia, and not necessarily the nice area of Philly either. But it was part of their story, and they wanted to stay close to their roots, so they raised you here. And growing up, you became close friends (maybe even best friends) with the one and only: Ava Coleman. She was your partner in crime growing up, and you never lost contact with her once you graduated high school.

You went off to school to pursue a career in education, much to both of your parents surprise- but they supported you in your decision.

(“I hope you raise the next generation to be smart,” Mom had told you. “Bring up some new lawyers for generations to come, yeah?”

“Teach those kids how to make it out alive like Ma and I did, got it kiddo?” Dad had joked with you, but you knew he was being serious.)

After years of teaching at one of the other public schools in the suburbs of your city, you decided that you wanted to come back to your roots. You miss Philly and all of the excitement that comes with it. You miss the odd odor that lingers in the streets, and the way that no one could give half a shit and jaywalked. You miss the way that you could pretty much walk anywhere, and within a few minutes you could be milling around Reading Terminal Market looking for some good eats. So you call your best friend for some advice.

“Girl, why didn’ you tell me sooner?” Ava asks you once you’ve explained to her that you want to come back to the city. “I own a school now, and I can for sure get you a job here.”

“Ava,” you sigh. “What the hell do you mean you own a school? Do you mean you’re the principal of a school?”

“Same thing,” you can practically hear your best friend rolling her eyes.

“That’s awesome,” you congratulate her. “How’d you manage that?”

“You know how I’ve been helping out at the Abbott elementary admin building with financials? Well,” she cackles into the phone. “I did some deep diving, and I found out that the super intendant of the district has been sleeping around- found hotel bills and everything on the company card for quickies. All I had to do was bring that up, and boom! I get a new title, a nice raise, and I own a school! I’ve been there for a couple months now, but there are more turnovers here than there were in the last Super Bowl, so I can for sure get you in.”

“A couple months? Has it really been that long since we last talked?”

“Since we actually caught up, yeah,” she sighs dramatically. “You and your fancy teaching job out in the ‘burbs. It ain’t gonna be fancy like that though, we don’ even got money for a proper librarian.”

“Remember, we grew up in Philly,” you remind her. “I know what it’s like. But can you really get me a job?”

“For sure,” she tells you. “With Summer coming up, I be knowin’ I’m about to get a lot of resignations from these people I thought were spicy White people but ain’t. The only spicy white lady here is Schemmenti- pretty sure she’s part of the mob, but I ain’t about to dig. We’ll have you join us next school year.”

“I highly doubt a teacher working in Philly is part of the mob,” you roll your eyes. “But if you’re serious, then yes. I would love to come work with you.”

“For me,” she corrects. “Just because we friends don’t mean I ain’t about to subject you to all of my bullshit at school- you get to deal with the full Ava experience in all its glory just like everybody else.”

“I’ve been subject to it for my entire life,” you laugh.

“I’ll reach out when I can officially accept your resume and offer you a position, but in the mean time… girl, when we getting our nails done?”

By some grace of God, Ava is able to keep her word, and you’re officially an employee of Willard R. Abbott Elementary School starting in August as a second grade teacher. You walk in arms full of boxes stacked so high you can barely see over them, not dressed in your fanciest clothes- you have a whole separate wardrobe when it comes to teaching. You know how this works- clothes will be ruined. Hell, some clothes were ruined at a nicer suburban school, so you know that some of your outfits will not be wearable by the end of the school year- or even the first week with the kids if you’re that unlucky.

“There you are, bitch!” Ava grins and runs over to you as you enter. She’s decked out in Eagles apparel, it’s all bejeweled in true Ava Coleman fashion. “I’m so happy you’re here- you boutta blow the roof off this place!”

You roll your eyes playfully but smile at her. “Can you just show me where my room is so I can start setting it up before we have to do our development activities?”

“Don’t you got people to do that for you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I am fully capable of setting up my classroom myself- without people to move everything for me.”

“Lame,” she sighs. “I always like seeing the sexy movers your Dad hires for you.”

“I explicitly told him I didn’t want him to do that for me,” you tell her. “And I told him that if he sent people here to move stuff from my car, I would never be respected. I know how it goes around here, and so does he. So, here I am.”

The principal leads you down to your room. “All yours,” she grins as she unlocks the door.

You look around once you’ve set your boxes on the ground and bite your lip thoughtfully. You can make do with this space.

“Your team is Janine… annoying ass dork, and Melissa… mean Italian lady who is working for the mob.”

“You’re still on that?”

“Guilty until proven innocent!” Ava quips.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “Care to give me a hand with unloading the rest of the stuff from my car?”

“Girl, I just got my nails done, and you sure as hell know I don’t do manual labor. I’m the principal now- that shit’s beneath me!” She turns on her heel. “See you in the library in an hour!”

You report down to the gym a little before everyone else to get your bearings, and to beg your best friend to not make a huge deal about you being here- specifically requesting that she doesn’t speak anything of your family or the business. You have a relatively common last name, so it isn’t like anyone would hear your name and immediately know of your family either.

“I won’ say anything about your fam, but you sure as hell know I’m gonna let them know your my bitch and they shouldn’t mess with you.”

You sulk back to your seat, dreading whatever the hell Ava is going to say about your arrival at the school.

The rest of your colleagues make their way in and take seats in their designated seats, you still lingering in the back. This way, you’re able to see some new faces, and you wouldn’t want to take anyone’s unofficially assigned seat. Once everyone is seated you join them. You can immediately pick out a few of the names that Ava had thrown out over the summer. Janine is sitting with Gregory and Jacob, and the redheaded woman is clearly Melissa. Sitting next to her is who has to be what Ava described to as, “Melissa’s heterosexual work wife and life partner,” Barbara Howard.

The principal heads to the stage and starts her greeting in true Ava fashion- telling them all how much she wishes they weren’t here and she was still clubbing it up down at the shore, but she supposes it’s okay to see them again. And then she begins to introduce the new teachers- she, of course, saves you for last.

“And finally,” she breaks out in a grin and does a little dance. “we have Y/N. Listen up: this girl is my ride or die, and even one of you steps out of line towards her, and we gon’ have problems.”

All eyes turn to you and your red cheeks, but you give a small wave.

“Now, onto the boring stuff,” Ava sighs. She drones on about the new school year and what is going to (supposedly) pan out over the next nine months before she dismisses you all to prep in your classrooms for the remainder of the day.

You make a break for the door as soon as you can, sweater wrapped around you tightly even though it’s sweltering hot in the school- apparently Mr. Johnson still hasn’t fixed the air conditioning because he forgot which Boyz II Men song he assigned to the air system. As soon as you’re in your classroom, your sweater is off and you’re fanning yourself with a paper fan you had folded for yourself.

You continue to prepare for your students until you hear a gentle knock on the door. Who is standing there but Janine and Melissa.

“Hi!” Janine grins as she steps in. “It’s so great to have you as an addition to our team, and Melissa and I just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves! I’m Janine, and this is-” She nudges the woman next to her.

The redhead just huffs and rolls her eyes. “Schemmenti,” is all she says.

“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to come and ask one of us. My room is just down the hall, but lucky for you- Melissa’s room is right next door to you!”

“Don’t need anything,” the fiery second grade teacher warns you. “I don’t got time for someone who’s gonna leave in a few weeks.”

You’re somewhat taken aback by her abrasive personality, but you just smile instead. “Thank you,” is all you say once Janine has hissed out a quiet, “Melissa!”

“Did you need any help at all yet?”

“She don’t need help, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “She’s got Ava on her side.” And with that, the redhead turns on her heel and leaves.

“Don’t mind her,” Janine tells you as she steps into your classroom a bit further. “She’s got a tough exterior, and she hated me too at first. But now, she’s like my work mom, with Barbara being my other work mom, of course. She even brought me lunch to make sure I eat today.”

“That’s very kind of her,” you say as you continue to set up your room.

“I like what you have goin’ on here,” your colleague nods her head in approval. “Nice and warm, kinda like my room! Well, I have to get back to my own classroom, but if you need anything, come on down! The price is right!” She laughs at her own joke before strolling down the hallway. 

Your first day at school is relatively peaceful, and before you know it, you’re allowed to leave. Of course though, you do plan on staying later because you have to finish up a few things before you’ll be satisfied with the progress you’ve made.

You see Melissa leaving her classroom, and despite not necessarily wanting to, you call out a gentle, “Have a good night, Melissa.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a short nod of the head in your direction before continuing on down the hall.

As you gather your things to leave for the day, Ava shows up at your door.

“So, we goin’ out for drinks?”

“I don’t think I can,’ you sigh. “I still have a lot of stuff that I have to prep for this, and I want to make sure it all gets done before the kids show up.”

“Girl, this would all be way easier if you just-”

“I don’t need any hired help,” you cut her off because you know exactly what she was going to say.

“Well then, I’m coming over,” your friend tells you, leaving no room for arguments. “It’s been too long since I seen you, or drank some of the good ass wine I know you have at your house.”

“Be my guest,” you chuckle as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

The rest of your development days are filled with boring meetings and time to prepare your classrooms. You find yourself a part of a committee to help with funding with a nudge from Ava.

“Girl, you don’t gots to tell them how you know all of this stuff about finances,” she tells you. “But it would be a big help to have someone like you on our team.”

“Fine. But if it gets out who I come from, I’m pulling out,” you point a finger at her. “I am not about to let my father get his hands on this and try to turn the school charter like he’s done before.”

She nods. “Whatever.”

The school year starts off strong. You’ve settled into your classroom, your kids absolutely adore you, and you adore them. You’ve spent some time with the other teachers in the school, besides Melissa, during preps, lunch duties, and recess duties. They all seem to like you, and you like them too.

Still though, you find yourself coming in early and staying late in order to get as much as you can together- you know once actual classwork starts to trickle in for you to grade, your plate is only going to get much more full. So any work that you can streamline and work ahead on, you do. The time where teachers are allowed to leave is upon you, and as much as you want to go home and take a nap, you know you really should stay and continue to work on lesson plans. Maybe you should start hanging up some of the work that your students have already done- their all about me posters and drawings. With a sigh, you gather the materials you’ll need to create a bulletin board and the footstool you keep in your cabinet and make your way into the hallway.

“Oi,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she closes her door for the night. “You know that working overtime won’t make you a better teacher.”

“I know,” you say softly. “But you know how it goes your first year in a new school.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss that shit,” the redhead huffs and starts to make her way down the hall.

“Have a good night, Melissa,” you call quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me what to do,” she tosses over her shoulder.

Wow. This woman was not easy to work with.

The next few days continue on like this, you staying later and later in order to stay on top of everything.

On Friday, you arrive early as you always do. While it’s casual Friday, and you’re allowed to wear jeans, you opt for a flowery sundress instead. It’ll keep your body temperature more regulated than a pair of stuffy jeans would. You know you aren’t doing anything where a student could accidentally destroy this dress either, so you think it’s a safe call.

As you enter the staff room to grab your lunch from the refrigerator, you hear the redhead’s low voice.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she challenges you, and you really don’t know why she’s doing this.

“Hm?” you hum as you grab your salad from the shelf.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she repeats. “Coming in here all cozy with Ava, wearing something or than jeans on casual Friday, already having bulletin boards up… you might’ve come from a nice school bonfire, but you’re here now- adjust.”

All of your coworkers’ eyes go wide at this unprovoked ‘fight’ you’ve found yourself in, and a few of them scold her. 

“What’s she gonna do?” Melissa fires out to Barbara. “Go tell on me to Ava and get me fired? Please.”

You bite your lip nervously before smiling tightly. “Have a nice lunch, y’all… and have a nice weekend if I don’t catch you before school’s over.” You leave the room with that and head back down to your classroom to eat your lunch while you pour over your lesson plans.

“Melissa,” Barbara sighs. “Y/N has done nothing to you, and you’re treating her terribly! There is no need; you are better than this!”

“Listen, she’s just another one of Ava’s minions who is going to reign hell on me during the school year. She already drives me nuts with the effort she’s putting in.”

“She may be friends with Ava,” Janine cuts in. “But I really don’t think she’s like her- she seems like she has drive and a true passion for our kids.”

“And that is what we need at this school,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend. “We need people who are willing to put in the effort and love on these kiddos the way that she is. I already had Dante tell me during my lunch duty that he loves second grade because of her! Do not go tearing her down and forcing her out when we need more educators like her!”

“I don’t-”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” Barbara pulls out the redhead’s full name, and Melissa’s eyes go wide at that. “Be nicer to the young girl. Give her a chance. You weren’t even this hard on Jacob and Janine when they first joined us.”

“And now you’re like my work mom!” the energetic teacher grins.

“You don’t even have to go out of your way to be nice to her,” the elder teacher says. “Just don’t be so harsh.”

“If I say sure, can we go back to eating lunch and talking about our weekend plans?”

Deciding that you’ve put enough hard work into this week and you’ll make sure you’re in here bright and early the day after Labor day, you grab your bag to head out on time and make the most of this long weekend. You close your door and begin to lock it just as Melissa makes her way out of the classroom.

“You’re not staying late tonight?” she looks at you with a raised brow.

“No,” you chuckle. “I figured that I deserve to have this weekend to relax after a hectic first week. But I’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday.”

“Mhmm,” the redhead hums as she fiddles with her door. “Shit,” she grumbles as she struggles to get the lock to turn.

“Do you want some help?” you ask her gently.

“I got it,” she holds up a hand. “I’ve been dealing with this damn door for the last two years. Mr. J will get around to it eventually.”

After watching her fight with the lock for long enough, you sigh and pull a bobby pin out of your hair. “Seriously, let me help.”

She steps aside, arms folded over her chest. Before you know it, you have her door locked, and you’re sliding the pin back into your hair.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

“Of course,” you smile at her shyly. “Hey, have a nice weekend.”

“You too, kid,” she tells you, and there isn’t any sort of bite behind her words. She isn’t smiling at you, but she also isn’t scowling at you.

Content with that conversation, you head for the doors and out to your car.

You make a pitstop on your way home into the Home Depot- you’’ just buy a new lock for Melissa’s door and install it on Tuesday when you get there. It’s a simple fix, and she doesn’t have to know it was you that did it.

The weekend is nice. You and Ava go out clubbing on Friday and Saturday night before nursing your hangovers on Sunday together. And then on Monday, you make your way over to your parents’ house with your partner in crime for the Labor Day barbecue they always hold. It’s a good time, as it always is. Your parents are happy to see the lively woman again, and they thank her for helping to get you back to your roots.

You’re back at Abbott bright and early- earlier than anybody else besides the janitor that lingers in the halls and doesn’t do his job.

“Good morning, Mr. J!” you greet him happily.

“Y/N,” he smiles back at you. “You have a nice weekend?”

“I did,” you reply as you make your way down to your wing. “And you?”

“Always a good time when you’re me,” he chuckles before continuing on his way humming a Boyz II Men song. 

You quickly drop your things off in your room before changing out your colleague’s crappy lock. You leave the new key in the hole so she has it, and then you settle at your desk to continue working on your lesson plans and preparations.

You hear her before you see her passing by your room to get to hers.

“Hey, good morning,” you greet her quietly.

“Mornin’,” she huffs. You’ve gathered that she isn’t much a morning person- at least not until she’s had her first cup of coffee and has watched the news in the break room with her friends.

You a hear a soft, “Huh,” come from her mouth as she notices there’s a new lock on her door. “Took you long enough, Mr. J.” She has no idea it’s you that changed it. Hopefully, this starts her week of well.

Your exchanges with the Italian lady in the room next door don’t much go beyond a good morning and a good night each day as the weeks go on, but she doesn’t frown at your mere existence anymore. If you squint, you can almost see a smile. The rest of your colleagues really seem to taking a liking to you, and you’re genuinely happy that you made the decision to come work here- even if it means putting up with your best friend’s shenanigans.

Everything is going swimmingly at work until one day Ava calls an emergency staff meeting at the end of the day.

Making your way into the library, you genuinely have no idea what she could have to announce so urgently. Apparently, neither do any of the other teachers.

“You’re close with her,” Melissa falls into step with you. “You know what she’s gonna say?”

“No idea,” you tell her quietly. “I’m just praying it’s not another pyramid scheme of hers. I can’t get her out of any more trouble with those.”

The redhead looks at you curiously, but you don’t say anything else. You don’t want to admit that when Ava finds herself in legal troubles, she usually calls your mother and she helps clean up the mess pro bono.

The two of you settle into the library chairs amongst the rest of your coworkers, but Ava is nowhere to be found.

“Good lord,” Barbara mutters. “This better be worth staying after. I’m going to be late to dinner with Gerald.”

Your friend enters the library looking rather frazzled. “Hey, y’all. Listen, I gotta make this quick because I have to get to a hair appointment, but I wanted you to hear it from me before word got around: the district is trying to cut our budget, and with our budget being cut, that means they’ll cut the arts programs. I know y’all don’t want that, so start coming up with ways to get us out this mess!”

Before anyone can ask any questions, she leaves.

“What the hell?” Melissa looks angry- like really angry. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes are wide, and she’s balling up her hands into fists. “Barb, you and me to the mall. I’m gonna need a new shakedown sweater.”

With no hesitation, the kindergarten teacher follows her work wife out of the school.

That night, Ava calls you.

“Girl… you know what we have to do,” she tries to convince you to let out your secret about your wealth.

“No,” you say for the millionth time. “We are going to fundraise, we’re going to get the money so that they can’t cut it… I’ll work with Janine and the budgeting committee to see where we can make small cuts here and there to scrounge up some more money… but I am not letting my dad get wrapped up in this and be in his debts. You know how he likes to hold stuff like that over my head, and he will turn Abbott charter if we let him get involved with this.”

You work tirelessly to come up with multiple fundraisers, different presentations to bring to the district offices, and work with the budgeting committee to make small cuts where you have a bit of wiggle room. You even tell them they can cut your salary by 2% if it means a little extra money- it may not be a lot, but it’s something that you’re willing to give considering your sizable bank account anyway. You do all of this, on top of continue to work in your classroom. You’re exhausted.

You volunteer for the events that you’ve helped to organize, and so have quite a few of the other teachers.

“We are not losing the arts program,” Melissa fumes multiple times a week. “I need my prep to keep my sanity.”

“Amen to that,” Barbara usually remarks after that.

“If it means volunteering a few hours here or there for these events, I’ll do it,” the redhead tells you when you hesitantly approach her crew about helping out.

So, here you are with Melissa at the art show.

The conversation is awkward and stilted for quite some time before she finally sighs.

“You’re doing good,” she tells you. “I haven’t seen a turn out like this in quite some time.”

“Anything for the kids,” you reply. “They need it.”

“Why here?” she finally asks you the question that’s been eating at her for some time- since the first day you walked in really.

“I grew up in Philly,” you tell her. “It was time to come back to my roots, and Ava offered me a position. The stars aligned for me, and I’m quite content in my decision to be back in a city school. I can help make a difference for these guys like some of my teachers did for me.”

“For someone who’s friends with Ava, you sure have a lot more heart than I thought you would,” she admits.

You smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“How long you two been friends? Meet in college at the clubs?”

“Nah,” you laugh softly. “I grew up with Ava living a few houses down from me. We’ve been friends since I was the shy girl in the first grade who sat by myself at recess. Next thing I know, she’s next to me rambling on about whatever first grade drama was happening and telling me I was her girl. I still don’t know why she chose me to come up to that day. Maybe it’s because I actually listened to her. But we’ve been stuck together since that day.”

“You’re good for her,” Melissa tells you. “I haven’t seen Ava put in this much effort to something that doesn’t directly benefit her before. And I think it really does have something to do with you being here and leading a lot of it.”

“Thank you,” you smile again.

That night is where everything starts to change. Melissa slowly starts to show you the other side of her personality- the kind, would take a bullet for you if she had to side. You quite like it.

As the months go on, you still work tirelessly to put together different events to try to save the arts. Melissa even helps you plan a few, and she offers her “I know a guy” line when you’re looking for different ways to draw people in. The two of you begin to work closely in order to make sure that these events happen, and that they’re good. The redhead sees how hard you work and how driven you are. She respects it.

  You find yourselves chaperoning quite a few events- choir shows, band shows, a few school dances…

And while you’re at these events, the redhead sticks by your side through most of the nights. She finds that she quite likes being around you actually. She lets you into her personal life slowly. You tell her little bits about your life while still not revealing that you come from the line that you do.

She realizes that she’s starting to fall for you- and that terrifies her to no end. But she can’t quite pull herself away from you. Not now. Not after getting to know you and see how down to earth and honest you are with what you do- not after you’ve shown her that you’re here to stay and you’re going to show up for these kids in any way you possibly can.

Finally, the biggest event that you’ve planned, and your last attempt at hitting the quota to keep the arts program around for another year (you don’t even want to think about having to go through this charade all over again next year) is here. 

It’s another AvaFest kind of deal, but you’re able to utilize the outside part of your school grounds this year. Inside, there are smaller games, a few tables from local vendors, music provided by Janine’s ex-boyfriend. Outside though, is a whole other story. It practically looks like a carnival.

There’s a ball toss, a free-throw game, a balloon dart stand, a game to throw footballs through some holes, the dunk tank has been moved outside and a handful of teachers have volunteered to partake in it… all of the ticket stands and games are being run by various teachers and aides in the school. And the assortment of goodies around? Apparently, Melissa knows quite a few guys who participate in the food industry because you have a grilled cheese stand, a lemonade stand, a guy who’s making hoagies… she even knew a guy to come head a cotton candy machine for the event. And that’s not even naming all of the vendors.

You don’t have any assigned places to be because you’re overseeing that the event runs smoothly. So you’re milling about with your clipboard in hand, checking over the different stands. And while you expected Melissa to sit at the ticket table with Barbara, she follows you around and is your right hand man throughout the night. She checks in with the people that she knows, shoots the shit, and helps you solve any issues that arise through the night- not that there are many. You worked your ass off to ensure that everybody participating in this school wide event was compensated for their time and hard work.

“You really outdid yourself, hun,” Melissa comments quietly once you’ve found a moment to just stand and take it all in.

“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else helping,” you brush off her compliment. “You were a really big help, so thank you.”

“We all pitched in, but you’re the brains behind all of this,” she tells you. “Don’t sell yourself short. This jawn just might have to become an annual thing.”

“Oh, don’t remind me of what I’m going to have to pull of next year,” you groan playfully. “After this, I’m done with ideas for the year.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it. If something else comes up, you and I both know you’ll be the first one organizing something.”

“I know,” you sigh. But then you smile softly. “It’s all for the kids though. They deserve it.”

“They do,” she agrees. “And because of you, they’re gonna get it.” She gently hip checks you.

You blush and shrug.

“You got a real knack for this. If you weren’t such a good teacher, I’d tell you to go into professional party planning,” the redhead quips. She doesn’t know that you’ve been helping plan company parties with your parents for years now.

“It’s more a hobby,” you tell her. “I’m a teacher at heart.”

“A teacher with a damn good heart,” she corrects you.

“You think this is all gonna be worth it?” you ask her nervously. “Think we’re gonna hit the mark?”

“I’d put money on it,” she tells you honestly. “With the last events you’ve organized, and this one being our biggest success yet, I think we’ll exceed it.”

“God, I hope so.”

You don’t make enough money to keep the funding for the arts program. You’re devastated. Absolutely crushed. You burst into tears when Ava announces that bit of information sadly at the next staff meeting, rushing out of the room to try to compose yourself.

Melissa runs after you. You don’t really know why, but she does. 

“Hey,” she comes into your classroom, grabbing a tissue on her way over to you. She gently wipes your tears away. “We did our best. You did your best. And that… is enough.”

“It isn’t though,” you choke out. “We’re losing the arts program, and those teachers are going to be let go, and I-”

“I’m sure Ava will find somewhere else for them to be placed,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

“And- and we’re going to lose our preps, and… and the kids deserve to have the arts!” you cry. “When I was in school, that was my favorite part of the day, and now they won’t be able to experience that joy!”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to incorporate it into your lessons,” the redhead tells you gently as she pulls you into a hug. “You did everything you could… but sometimes at the end of the day, life sucks.”

“It’s not fair,” you whine.

“Life ain’t always fair, hun,” Melissa reminds you. “But we do our best with what we’ve been given. And now, all the money that we raised can go into buying supplies for the kids next year.”

You sigh and wipe at the last of your tears. You take a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Okay,” you whisper sadly.

“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” she promises you. “And who knows, maybe a miracle will happen, and we’ll get to keep the programs.”

And just like that, her words give you an idea. You know how you can make a miracle happen. You have to contain your excitement as the thought pops into your head. The two of you return to the staff meeting where Ava is rambling on about who knows what, but you’re itching to get out of there.

Once you’re dismissed, you head back to your classroom, open up your laptop and log in. You check your bank account balances, and pleased with the numbers, you pull up the GoFundMe page that was up for the school.

“You’re stayin’ late again tonight?” Melissa knocks on your door, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses already on.

“Just a few minutes,” you look up and smile at her. “I have a few emails I have to respond to.”

“Alright,” she taps the doorframe a few times. “Try to have a good night, yeah?”

“I will,” you tell her. “You too, Melissa.”

“Thanks, hun.” 

With that, she’s off, and you can go back to what you were doing. You click on the “Donate Now” button without hesitation.

You donate the first $50,000, and then another $50,000 anonymously, and you absolutely beam when you see that you’ve hit your goal and then surpassed it. Satisfied, you close out of the tabs and close your laptop. Now, you just have to wait for tomorrow morning when Ava, the organizer of the fundraiser, sees the email. You know she won’t see it tonight- she’s off the clock.

A few hours later, you get a text from your best friend.

Hey, you still holding up ok? she sends.

I’m alright, you text back. So she hadn’t seen the donations yet. I’m drinking wine right now if you want to come over.

Girl, say less.

She’s over at your house in less than fifteen minutes, and it takes everything in you to not tell her what you had done. She heads home after finishing off the bottle, bidding you a goodnight and a see you tomorrow.

You sleep like a baby that night.

The next morning, you’re back in your classroom setting up your science experiment for the day when Ava’s voice comes over the intercom.

“Attention Abbott Elementary: there is a mandatory staff meeting, right now. Start heading down to the library. That means you, Schemmenti.”

You grin as you stand back up straight and make your way for the door. Right before you exit, you put on your best neutral face.

“Damn,” Melissa groans as she leaves her room. “Tell your friend not to call me out like that. I skip on meeting, and she’s all over me.”

“I don’t control what she does, and you know that,” you chuckle.

“What do you think this is about?” she asks you as the two of you make your way down the hall.

You shrug. “For all I know, it could be that she got a manicure and wants to show it off.”

The two of you find seats at your table, Barbara arrive a few seconds later.

“What on Earth could this woman have forgotten to tell us yesterday?” the kindergarten teacher huffs. “I have things to do!”

“I was setting up my science experiments for the day,” you grumble. “If this isn’t worth it, I’m making her set the rest of it up.” You know it will be worth it.

“Good morning, subordinates!” Ava makes it known that she’s entering the library. “I have some great news!”

Everyone silently urges her to go on.

“I have no idea who did this- sure as hell wasn’t me- but, we got some donations after school yesterday!” She projects the webpage up onto the screen.

Everyone gasps when they see how much money had been donated last night. To keep up appearances, your eyes widen, your jaw drops, and you well up with tears. Acting classes from when you were younger sure are paying off now.

“Oh my- Oh my god!” you shout, and Melissa is hugging you tightly.

“So, thanks to these very generous donations, we’re able to keep the arts programs up and running for at least the next three years!” Ava grins.

“Well, who donated?” Janine asks. “We have to find out so we can thank them!”

“Who cares?” Ava rebuts. “We got what we wanted! Now back to work, slackers!”

You stay in your seat, pretending to be in complete and utter shock while everyone else starts to get up. Almost every teacher comes up congratulating you and telling you that your hard work paid off. Melissa sits with you, happy as can be, and only reaffirming what everyone else is already telling you. Only once everyone else has left does she say anything else.

“Y/N,” she grins. “This is incredible. I told you your hard work would pay off. It’s a freakin’ miracle!”

“Y-Yeah,” you match her smile. “God, this is great.”

The two of you sit there for some time, chatting about how you could use some of the funding to buy more supplies and the likes until you remember you still have to finish setting up your science materials.

“Oh shit!” you whisper. “I- I gotta go finish setting up before the kids come in!” You take off in the direction of your room, and the redhead can only watch you as you go with a lovestruck look in her eyes.

When you’re halfway there, you hear Ava’s voice over the speaker again. “Y/N, my office.”

“Fuck,” you mumble as you halt sprinting down the hallway and turn to make your way down to her room. There was no way you would be able to finish preparing for today at this rate.

“This better be quick. I have to-”

“You donated that money, didn’t you?” Ava gets right to the point.

Your eyes widen. Your cover was blown with her, meaning it was going to be blown quickly among your colleagues as well.

“Well, was it?”

You nod subtly. “But please… don’t say anything. Please. I did it for the kids, and I have enough stashed away, and-”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” your best friend grins. “Why you think I didn’t say nothin’ at the meeting today?”

“You’re the best,” you sigh in relief.

“Don’t I know it,” the principal cackles. “Now, fo’ real. Come shoot an instagram video with me to announce that we met our goal.”

“Ava, I actually have-”

“I’ll tell,” she singsongs. “C’mon. We need our fearless leader and organizer to be part of the video.”

“Fine.”

The two of you finish the video about five minutes before the kids will start to show up, and you practically sprint back to your classroom to attempt the impossible task of finishing setting up.

When you get there though, Melissa is in your room just finishing up the last station.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as you make your way into the room.

“Nah,” she shrugs. “But I wanted to. I got the time.”

“Thank you,” you grin.

“Noticed your coffee cup was empty too,” she notes. “So I made you a new one. Hope that’s alright.”

You walk over to your desk and take a sip of the warm drink. It’s perfect.

“Thank you,” you make your way over to her and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Seriously. You just made my day.”

“Nah, that mysterious donor did,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad I could help. Have a good morning, and I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her. “Thank you again.”

You greet your children at the door, coffee mug and heart both full. Melissa greets her own students, but she can’t stop watching you. You’re just… so perfect. She knows she’s falling for you hard. Maybe at the end of the week she’ll confess her feelings- no, she will. She makes up her mind: she’s going to confess her feelings to you by Friday, if not before. She just has to work up the nerve to do it.

At lunch, the conversation is almost solely on who the mystery donor is. You play dumb, and you tell everyone that you’re just happy the school gets to keep their program from next to Melissa.

“I know a guy who could find out for us,” the redhead tells your colleagues.

“Oh, do it,” Janine grins. “That way, we can have our kids make cards and send them to the person to thank them! Oh my god- do you guys think our donor is Taylor Swift?! She does stuff like this sometimes!”

“She usually puts her name to it,” you chuckle. “But seriously, I think we should just be grateful. Ava and I already thanked the person on the school’s webpage and social media, and I think that should suffice.” You really don’t want to be found out.

“I already got the guy on the line,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she types away on her phone. “I’m gonna have to make a tray of ziti and some meatballs as payment though.”

You bite your lip. You really, truly pray that her guy won’t be able to find you out. But, her people usually come through for her… maybe just this once, they won’t be able to?

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa taps your elbow gently.

“Hm?”

“We lost ya there for a second,” she tells you. “I asked if you would come over to help me make the food, since we’s in this situation because of your fundraiser.”

“Oh,” you blush. “Uh, sure. When?”

“You got anything goin’ on tonight?” she asks. You shake your head. “Then tonight. I’ll text you my address. Bring a bottle of wine.” At that moment, she silently promises herself she’ll talk to you about her feelings for you.

You nod and continue to eat your lunch quietly, letting the conversation around you continue as you continuously plead with the lord that they don’t find out it’s you who donated all that money.

You show up to your coworker’s house promptly at 5:30, like she asked, with a nicer bottle of wine in hand. You hope she’ll like it.

When she opens the door, you have to stop yourself from blushing at the sight of her. You’ve seen her at school, and you wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you find her attractive there. In the comfort of her own home though, she’s almost even more gorgeous.

“Hey,” she opens the door. “C’mon in. I got all the stuff ready.”

You enter quietly, offering her the bottle of wine. She pulls her glasses from off the top of her head and puts them on before inspecting the bottle.

“Damn,” she says. “You got good taste, but expensive taste.”

“I figured I could splurge for a celebration,” you offer up.

She leads you to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses before pouring some into each. Once you have yours in hand, she quietly raises her own in a toast.

“To this mystery donor,” she says quietly. You clink your glass with hers before sipping on the wine.

By the time all of the food is in the oven, the two of you have gotten through about three quarters of the bottle and plan to finish off the rest on her couch.

“This was nice,” you tell her quietly.

“Yeah,” she hums, but you can tell her mind is clearly somewhere else.

“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” you ask her. 

She hums again, still wrapped up in her own inner turmoil over telling you that she has a thing for you. 

“Mel,” you tap her gently, the nickname rolling off of your tongue for the first time. 

She snaps out of her trance.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask softly.

She bites her lip nervously before whispering, “Please don’t hate me for this.” And then she gently presses her lips to your own.

Your eyes widen before you kiss her back just as tenderly. When you need air, you pull back.

“Oh, god,” she whispers.

“Hey,” you set a warm hand on her knee. And then you lean in and kiss her again so she knows that you aren’t upset with her; you don’t hate her.

“So…” she hums when you two part again. “I- I have a thing for you.”

“You wouldn’t say?” you tease her. “If it wasn’t clear, I like you too. I just didn’t think you would ever go for someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowns. “You’re… you.”

“Yeah,” you laugh weakly as you run a hand through your hair. “I’m me. Shy, quiet, dorky… always working… friends with Ava.”

“Mm,” she hums as she shifts closer to you. “You are you: hard working, driven, down to earth, kind… heart of gold… gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “C’mon, Mel.”

“I’m serious,” she tells you as she tucks a hair behind your ear. “I like you because you’re you… I tried to hate you so hard at the beginning of the year, and I just… couldn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask her.

“Nope. From the moment I found out you were the one that changed my lock and fixed my door,” she admits.

Your eyes widen slightly at that confession. “You knew?”

“I thanked Mr. J that day, and he told me it wasn’t him,” she shrugs. “That he saw you come in early with a bag from Home Depot. I put two and two together.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “You could’ve told me you knew.”

“There was never a right time for it,” she chuckles. “But I figure now is the right time to say thank you the way I wanted to then.” She kisses you again.

That night, the two of you talk over how you’re going to continue on with this little… situation you’ve found yourselves in. You’ll take it slow. You bid her a goodbye with a lingering kiss before climbing into your car and heading back to your house.

Sleep washes over you easily that night, content with what had just happened at Melissa’s. 

The next day continues on as it normally does, although when no one is around in the corner that your classrooms are in, the redhead will sneak into your room and kiss you passionately. She’s found that she quite likes kissing you, and you don’t mind one bit. She hasn’t heard any news from her guy, and you feel like you’re in the clear. They won’t find you out. 

But come the following day, as you’re sitting in the break room with Janine, Gregory, Jacob, and Barbara, the redhead comes storming in.

“You!” she points a finger at you. In her other hand is a stack of papers.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear her booming voice. “Me?” you whisper.

“When the hell were you gonna tell us who you really were?!”

“Melissa,” Barbara furrows her brows. “It is too early for this.”

“No, I think now’s a great time for this. When the hell were you gonna tell us that you were the donor?! When were you gonna tell us that your Y/N, daughter of one of the most famous day traders and one of the most prestigious lawyers in the area?!”

You turn bright red, and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.

“What?” Janine gasps. “Melissa, you have to-”

“See for yourselves!” She throws the papers in her hands on one of the tables.

The rest of your friends gather around to look at the papers. There’s a screenshot of the transaction with your name, and then there are a few papers from an article that ran a couple of years ago about one of your dad’s parties and being able to secure a deal. In the image, you’re in the background drinking a glass of wine next to your mother. They all look to you with wide eyes.

“Wow,” Jacob whistles. 

“When the hell were you gonna tell us?” Melissa asks you again. “You know the trouble I had to go through to get this information? How much deep diving I did once I saw your name? You coulda saved me a trip to the grocery store and hours of cooking and cleaning if you would’ve just fessed up!”

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wipe at your tears and make your way out. You head back to your classroom, coffee abandoned at your seat, and lock the door. You keep it locked despite the various knocks that come and go to check on you after your quick exit. 

“Melissa,” Barbara tries to calm her friend down. “I know you’re frustrated that you went through all of that effort, but… Y/N was doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and she clearly didn’t want to be found out.”

“I know,” the redhead sighs once her fire has died down a bit. “I was too hard on her, wasn’t I?”

“I’d say so,” the kindergarten teacher admits.

“Shit,” she mutters. “I gotta fix this.”

You only unlock it when you know it’s time for your students to start arriving, but you don’t dare go stand at your door like you usually do. You don’t want to face Melissa- not yet. You don’t think you can. You’ve only just started to explore what could happen between the two of you, and you’ve already ruined it by not telling her who you were. You avoid her for the morning.

Come lunchtime, you don’t even bother to head into the break room. You just suppose a granola bar from the stash that you have in your room will have to suffice and hold you over until you can go home today.

You lay your head down on your desk- it’s pounding because you didn’t get to finish your caffeinated drink.

You hear her boots against the floor before you can see her. You think she’s just going to pass by your door and head into her own room, but she stops in your doorway. In her hands, she has a mug full of coffee, your lunch, and dozens of handmade cards from the students.

“Hey,” she says gently.

You don’t answer. She makes her way into the room and sets everything on your desk before she makes herself comfortable.

“Eat,” she instructs.

“Not hungry,” you shrug.

“Then at least drink the coffee I made you,” she tries. “I know you get headaches when you don’t have enough caffeine in your system.”

You shrug. She raises her eyebrows though, and you meekly reach for the cup. “Thanks."

“The kids all made you cards,” she tells you gently. “Thanking you.”

You look at them with a sad smile.

“The staff put some cards in there too.”

“That’s nice,” you say numbly.

“C’mon, hun,” she sighs as she lays a warm hand on your shoulder. “This stuff normally makes you happy.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigned. “But I fucked up. I didn’t tell you who I was, and now you’re mad at me, and I probably ruined whatever we have goin’ on here. I’ll pay you back for the money you spent on the food by the way.”

“No need for that,” she waves you off. “Was I pissed when I saw your name on that paper? When I realized who you actually were? Yeah. A little. But… you single-handedly saved our arts program. You organized all of the events, and then when that wasn’t enough, you donated so much that we get to keep that program for at least the next five years.”

“Yeah, for the kids,” you sigh. “It’s all for them.”

“And besides,” she chuckles quietly. “If I didn’t have to make that food, I probably wouldn’t have kissed you that night, I woulda found out who you were before tellin’ you how I felt, and then I really would’ve been pissed with you, and what we have going on here wouldn’t have happened.”

You shrug. “I ruined it though.”

“You didn’t ruin nothin’. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m sorry I was as hard on you as I was,” she promises you gently. “I still like ya. I still wanna see where this goes, if you do.”

You look up at her, glassy eyes and all. “Really?”

“Yeah, hun. If this showed me anything, it’s that you’re a really good person, and I made a really good choice fallin’ for you.”

You blink a few times in disbelief. So you didn’t ruin this. You still have Melissa in your life- she doesn’t hate you.

“Do you wanna see where this goes?”

“I do,” you say softly.

Her lips meet yours, and you only part when you hear a collective gasp from the teachers who had quietly followed Melissa down to ensure that she wasn’t going to cause any fights.

The two of you pull back, cheeks red.

“Uh, surprise?” you say nervously.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - It's odd rn but VERY PRETTY

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Oct 2024 Week 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 4 of 12 - I love Joke so much! And I love War in this role so much. It’s great. This is a great show it’s such fun. The comedy is somewhat leaving me flat. But that’s normal for me in this kind of Thai BL. I also like Hope. I shouldn’t, but I do. I love the little girl character as well, and I do believe that Joke has found his scion in her.

(As per usual the grandma of this BL speaks for all of us.)

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 5 of 12 - Coils be coiling. Mummy dearest is v hot. I do like the twist on the henchmen. It would’ve been really gut-wrenching if Q had put the rope around his own wrist the night that he slept by himself (or tried to). And they have now made "the promise that is destined to be broken" waves at trope. Meanwhile, great flirting. Next week being episode six we should be getting our kiss.

(Was GMMTV gently poking at Jack & Joker with that play-within-a-play reference to Jack as Min's stunt part?)

Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 1 of 16 - Sampler pack university BL from Wabi Sabi that's trying to be a gay Boys Over Flowers (4 older med student hot boys + frosh) and it’s exactly what I want right now. Is it good? No, not really. Do I care? Not at all. It is, in fact, boys over flowers... only boys no flowers. I really couldn’t want anything more than that. What can I say? I’m easy. I love a pining seme. I guess what I am saying is, I am trash for trash. Inject this shit directly into my eyeballs.

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 3 of 15 - At least in this version they talk bit more with each other about what’s going on. (Then again in the original we didn't need it, the acting was so good.) Still it’s a lot more modern to see representation of communication, but but the previous version felt more honest to teen behavior. This open communication entirely changes the push pull dynamic of Phun & Noh's whole relationship. I actually LIKE that change because it makes it very different from the original. I’ve been hoping that this one would veer in a different direction. I'm enjoying that they've made it Phun with the long term crush, and that he’s sort of testing himself with heterosexuality. It is selfish, but it is also a very rich kid thing to do. I love the shouted confessions and the decision to not date. This is a really good twist on the original. I’m liking this a hell of a lot more now that it’s substantially changed in direction, if not in tone.

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) ep 11 of 12 - It’s very sweet and wholesome. And everyone kisses pretty. And I do like the communication and green flag aspects of this show. But I'm also finding it a touch dull. 

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 9 of 12 - I don’t know. The pretending to be blind thing is weird. This whole show is weird. I’m kinda weirded out by it. I like the two side couples well enough, but we get barely any time with them at all.

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 12 fin - I like that they did come around to the dreaming thing as a major plot point in the end. Even though it felt like they forgot about it in the middle. And I liked that it was an inherited family trait. I didn’t expect that (should have, but I didn't). And I thought it suited this kind of drama, even if it was a little pat. The whole family helping at the very end was very sweet and a nice full circle for the narrative. (Like the Ae's family sort of adopting the next-door kids originally. 

Summation

A cute friends to lovers romance, that’s a little bit like the stepbrothers trope since these two grow up next-door to each other and in and out of each other’s lives. The paranormal element is about prophetic dreams, and it is threaded through the narrative even if it gets somewhat lost in the muddy middle. All in all, a sweet fun little series with decent chemistry. 8/10

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 8 of 10 - I've totally forgotten what’s going on. There was another kidnapping. Maybe they’re actually dating now? I don’t know. Honestly, it won’t really matter cause everything will change by the end of this episode... again. That said, I did love the parental confrontation sequence. It’s not as good as in the original because it’s a lot more direct and modernized, but it was pleasingly aggressive. Which I weirdly appreciated for the military angle. The cross-dressing thing was odd. The dolls advertising thing is even odder. Jealous baby on sports day was good though.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - Why did I feel like I’ve seen this entire episode already. It’s just different characters saying the same thing to the main characters or flirting the same way or whatever. 

Live in Love (Sun Gaga) ep 5 fin - I did not like this ep at all. Fully half of it was evil backstabbing and some bullying and some sort of trying to engender sympathy for a friendship betrayal. And I was not on board. (Wouldn’t mind seen Hali and that cute kid in something together tho.) 

Conclusion

Basically this was a story about online relationships and how they interface with the real world, and in personal friendships, plus bullying of all types and some backstabbing and shipping. The acting was weak, the sound was terrible, and generally it was an old style pulp offering. It tried to deal with some interesting issues, but was awfully clumsy about it. 5/10 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 9 fin - Such a great confession, so truthful and earnest and honest. And he’s also like that with his friends. And such a nice answer. I love that during the cool off they both realize how very much they both act like are boyfriends to each other all the time. Ooo running of the gays! And we even got a cute little smile kiss!!!! and an adorable boyfriend montage at the end. How unexpectedly satisfying of you, Japan!

Summation 

This is a phenomenally charming and adorable little romance about a forlorn university kid and the police officer who adopts him. They are relentlessly kind to each other, in fact it’s an extremely kindly show over all (everyone in it is so nice to everyone else including us) so there’s very little tension. But what it lacks in drive and complexity it makes up for in earnest acts of service and simple affection. These two are basically boyfriends from the get-go, it’s just one of them acts like it and doesn’t realize it and the other one realizes it and has to figure out how to make it a reality. It’s incredibly sweet and incredibly wholesome, nourishing but delicious. Everybody who can should watch this show. It will make you feel better about life. 

Easy 9/10 on this one from me.  

GO WATCH IT  

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 2 of ? - We have some semblance of a plot! Yay! Our BV tsundere character is secretly an online judge who whistleblows and exposes corruption in the school system. How very Pump Up the Volume. I am not mad about it. Also 2 of the prettiest seme bullies EVER. The epic pout-off with these bad boys. Be still my heart.

Our Golden Times (Hong Knong ??? YT) 1-4 of ? - Billed as a BL from Hong Kong I’m not sure we can trust this one to a get finished or be cohesive or have an HEA. But the optics are good. Everybody’s very pretty. It’s chaotic and clumsy and a little odd. But most of the stuff on my dash is these days, so what the hell? And ya know what, I kinda like it.

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 4 of 10 eps - It remains entertaining but off kilter in that way that indicates 50% chance of ultimate dissatisfaction in the JBL pantheon. 

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - I wish we knew a little bit more about Sea's background/family. Neil should just tell him what the hell is going on. Why wouldn’t he? Instead they artificially wedged the main couple apart for most of this episode and Orca wasn’t there at all? = Not a good episode IMHO.

It's airing but...

My Damn Business (Korea Sat ????) 7 eps - supposedly airing on Saturdays starting 10/5 have no roleand I found the trailer but nothing else.

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) ep 1 of 10 - This is a supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion in Chiang Mai being converted into a café. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming Oct 2024:

10/7 Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) 10 eps - Jade and Chin have lived over a thousand lifetimes. In each one they somehow manage to fall in love with each other. (This pair, TopMick was piloted in a My Universe ep, that was one of the only ones I liked.)

10/10 Eccentric Romance (Korea Thurs Viki & Gaga) 12 eps - Silkwood’s 2nd Thai/Korean colab, that has been in production since 2022 which is a LONG time in the BL world. I'm worried but I like the concept: friends of 10 years who’ve been hiding feelings for each other enter the same university. Plus MURDER.

10/10 Gangster and His Boyfriend (Korea Thurs ????) 8 eps? - Kim Dong Bin (famous trainee & idol reality competitor, yeah that happens) stars as a fallen idol who unexpectedly becomes entangled in a gangster family. Discovers that his friend’s father is responsible for the murder of his entire family years ago. I don't know much about this one, neither does anyone else and I'm not sure where I got that release date so……

10/21 Love in the Big City (Korea ????) 8 eps - Okay both a movie (already out) and a series. Neither one is likely BL and I can't imagine it will end happily. I'm giving both a pass but here's your synopsis.

Cynical fun loving student Young pinballs from home, to class, to on night stands. He and Jaehee, his female besie and roommate, frequent nearby bars where they push away their worries about life, love, and money with soju and hookups.

10/23 See Your Love (Taiwan Gaga Viki) 10 eps? - Zi Xiong, a third-generation heir, attempting to flee from taking over their family business, meets and falls in love with Shao Peng, who works as a hearing-impaired nurse. From the same production house as Kiseki Dear To Me in partnership with Shinehouse Theatre, funded by Taiwan’s BIGART + Japan's Rakuten (Viki). Show includes Lin Chia Yo (Be Loved in House: I Do). Director Chiang Ping Chen’s childhood experiences with his deaf uncle have inspired the drama.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

I kinda love it when someone else does the prophetic claiming. Our Golden Times

Crumbs in Summer Nights but they very cute crumbs. We didn't even really get to see them get together but I'm glad that they are.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

[queenofthearchipelago]

Long Rant about the Watcher Thing

The thing about what's happening with Watcher is that I'm a musician. I understand deeply the difficulties that come with an artist making their art and needing money and the relationship with the people that art is for. So I understand that Watcher needs money to pay their employees and maintain their business.

That said, they revealed that they have 25 employees (half of which are nepotism hires and friends from BuzzFeed) and that one episode of Ghost Files costs "hundreds of thousands of dollars." (Ghost Files being their most expensive show by bar, not their average spending habits per Watcher episode)

I understand from a few people I've seen who are in their Patreon that they make at least 100k per month from the patreon. And then there's the money they get from youtube itself from the views. And then there's the money they get from the ads.

Now I understand that Ryan said this decision came down to primarily 2 things: the ad companies were making them feel stifled with what they could do (which they don't explain how), and they want more money to be able to keep up a higher production quality.

I'm going to skip past the thing about the ads. They never specified how the ad companies were making them change their content in a way that made them feel unsatisfied. I can't speak or provide any opinions on why they want so badly to escape needing ad deals.

But I can talk about the higher production quality they speak of and that's specifically because Ryan said that they wanted to pay for a higher production quality FOR US. "For you guys."

We... we didn't ask for higher production. This is NOT a decision they need to make on our account. I understand and respect if they aren't creating on they level they want. But it's odd that they're speaking towards not being able to afford their current spending habits, as if this is something we asked them to do.

I've read a lot of comments about this and I agree with a lot of you that it's odd that this decision to switch to streaming coincides with the return of Worth It, a show that when produced by Steven, seems like it could easily cost just as much as Ghost Files to produce.

I understand why it feels like this is all Steven's fault. His vibes in the video today, compared to Ryan and Shane, made it seem like he was the most excited about it. It's Steven that has been highlighted multiple times as the business man, the one who makes the financial decisions. It's Steven's shows on Watcher that get canceled after one or two seasons, meanwhile Ryan and Shane's shows just keep going to 5 seasons and beyond.

Shane even said it explicitly, that there are "shows that didn't do as well on youtube, that might do better on a streaming service."

But most of the fans DO watch Watcher for Ryan and Shane, they always have. Steven's shows don't do as well. When Watcher brings in a new host and makes a new show for them, those shows do even worse.

I know this upsets Ryan, he's been very vocal about wanting Watcher to expand beyond himself and Shane. He wants his company to be successful regardless of whether he's in front of the camera or not.

But I feel like this step is trying to force it. Right now, this is still Ryan and Shane's channel. This is why we're here. The people haven't latched onto Steven as much, and the attempts to bring in new hosts have been unsuccessful.

There are lots of comments floating around about why Watcher didn't do what Rhett and Link did and open up youtube membership. Or why didn't they host more live events. Or why didn't they do more livestreams. These all could have been fantastic ideas that wouldn't betray the fans.

Because I do think they forgot that their fanbase is largely women in their 20s. People are right in bringing up the cost of living crisis, in bringing up how many subscription services we're already subscribed to. And my heart goes out to the international viewers who can't access the website at all in their country and the ones who can't afford it because Watcher forgot to consider the currency difference.

I feel that they have betrayed their fanbase. I remember when Watcher started and Ryan admitted he was scared no one would watch. And then we showed up for them because we loved them and what they did.

But now most of the fans can't or won't follow them where they're going. And I think Ryan might know this too from the way he said If this is goodbye, it's been fun.

I wish they would have tried other things before hard launching a streaming service. I wish they would have had a long game plan to get to the place they wanted to be as a company and as creatives.

I feel betrayed but I also don't want this company going bankrupt. If they go bankrupt, then we truly have lost them forever. I hope they take a look at the overwhelming backlash, at their falling subscriber numbers, and I hope they reconsider doing this.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Burn The House Down

Summary: Having to have you was always his main goal, as time passes and you change as people Aemond seems indifferent even during your big news.

Word Count: 3.7k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

For years since you were children, you did your best to be kind to the Targaryen children no matter how odd they seemed, never noticing how Aemond always seemed to be around or that he was behind things falling apart in your life even when he was there to console you. But would continue on when something better seemed to take place in front of you. The older you got, the more you slowly but surely noticed how erratically and obsessive Aemond seemed toward things in his life but kept shrugging it off like it was nothing going about your day. Aemond had been secretly stalking you since a young age, watching you from the shadows, making sure you were always safe. When you both were children you could always catch him staring at you with that odd look in his eye, that burning obsession and curiosity as his fingers twitched waiting to touch you. As time went by, and you all became adults, you had started to notice him even more. He was always there somewhere close by. You noticed the odd things happening in your life, you did not know they were his own doing. He had a certain power over you and your life.

Aemond can recall each time you were quite kind to him during his formative years in the Red Keep. You always listened to his troubles, and his desire to leave and see the world. He remembered your kindness towards him even without a dragon, he can understand how you might have not noticed the attention he lavished upon you. You were often busy with matters of your own and he did not wish for you to worry about things, he tried to keep his feelings to himself as best he could when he could. He did not see his affection for you as erratic but rather focused on something he truly desired. You used to go visit him in the courtyard when you weren't busy with more important matters. You always seemed to have a lot in common even if it was Aemond altering himself to fit you better, but one thing that never changed was that he still kept following you, being close to you, and watching you with those lilac/sapphire eyes of his, that sparkled every time he turned his gaze on you always seeming to be studying you. You had only been a child when Aemond's strange obsessions started. But as your body changed into maturity, his interest in you changed as well. Aemond watched closely you growing into a young woman, your curves getting fuller, and he felt… things. Forbidden fantasies, desires. He was ashamed, of course. Naturally, he went out of his way to pray more often but he couldn't help it. You were his friend, yes. But also, you were something else to him. Though his intentions were not clear, it did not help that you saw Aemond as an older brother-like figure. However, there was always something that piqued your interest and intrigued you at the same time, the odd affection he had for you. You could not comprehend how someone could follow your routine for so long and not make a proper confession to you, or at least make a romantic advance which led you to believe he must've not cared in such a way. He wanted to know more about you the older you become. Your likes, dislikes, hopes, dreams, secrets, etc.

He always wanted to get closer to you and get to know you even better almost as if he wanted to lock you away and be the only one around you. One thing that stood out to Aemond was that whenever he would see you, you would always be kind and warm towards him regardless of his choices and decisions he would make. You seemed to genuinely care about him and his well-being. You never tried to pressure him to talk about his feelings or share any of his personal thoughts. Aemond had always appreciated this about you. You were someone he could turn to and trust. You noticed him again, just as you had when he was younger. In passing, you glimpse that same strange look in his eyes and recall all those times he was always near. You ponder what it could mean and wonder if maybe he still felt the same way. It worried you. Your duties and responsibilities keeping you busy but you can't help but wonder what Aemond is doing and if he is still watching over you. You had not forgotten about him. His attention and affection have not gone unnoticed.

That attention and affection were growing daily. It was all Aemond would think about when he first woke up or when he would fall asleep. His thoughts would be consumed with everything he could know about you, where you were, what you were doing, all of it. It got to the point where if he was not near you he felt lost. He always knew where your chamber would be, who your friends were, your favorite foods, your favorite cloth to wear, everything. He needed to be near you. You were the only person in this realm who truly made him feel this way, and he was unsure he wanted his feelings to go unanswered any longer. It was not uncommon for Aemond to keep watch over you, but he rarely made himself visible if he could help it. He was not one to reveal his own feelings but this was something different. He began to feel drawn to having you as his, like a magnet. He was constantly thinking about you, wondering when you would cross paths again spending more time together, hoping the next time you did he might muster up the courage to speak his truth. He knew you deserved to know how he felt. But how do you tell someone something like that without knowing if they feel the same?

He was obsessed with you. He needed you, and not just physically but emotionally. He wanted more than your body, he wanted your mind and soul. He would do anything to be close to you, to touch your smooth skin, anything to have you notice him. You were his muse, his everything. He wanted your attention, he wanted your love… he wanted you. Yes, his obsession with you had become his obsession to possess you. His life had become completely consumed by you even if he was capable of saving face in front of others. Nothing mattered to him except you. Nothing else had meaning to him anymore. He had to have you. The risk of rejection was too severe for him. He could never bring himself to reveal how he felt. But he had to make you want him. He knew that if he could just figure out what you desired in a partner, he could make you his and own you. The more obsessive and possessive he became, the more you seemed to become oblivious. You might never even think to look his way.

He could be near you or call on you, but that was not enough. He wanted more than that. He wanted you to be his and only his not enjoying when another held your attention. He wanted you all to himself. He spent hours dreaming of ways he could make you realize how he felt, how he needed you like he needed air in his lungs. He would even contemplate things he could do to make you jealous, just so that you would notice him and confront him. He had to confess his feelings or he would simply implode. If you felt the same way he could not wait another minute. If you did not… He would find a way to make you care enough about what would happen.

You often caught a glimpse of him in your peripheral vision. It started to frighten you a bit, wondering if someone knew your secrets. But you always ignored those thoughts even being comforted by the tall blonde male himself that he would look after you, reminding yourself daily that Aemond wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You continued going about your life, trying to forget your suspicions. One evening, you were walking back to your chambers when you felt someone's eyes on you. Turning around and seeing Aemond, watching you. He smiled at you nervously. You were about to walk away when he stopped you. He cleared his throat. He had prepared this moment in his head for so long. There was so much he wanted to say, he did not know how to begin. He was nervous and fidgeting but he was glad he had finally stopped you. He had prepared exactly what he wanted to say. He took a step towards you. “My lady. I… I have spent a long time in this castle. And in that time I have been watching you and there is something I must tell you.”

Your heart started to beat rapidly, almost painfully. You knew what he was going to say but you didn't want it to be true. You listened to his words silently, wondering what he had to say. Your face was a mixture of emotions. You were nervous but you were trying hard to hide it. You were afraid that if you let your guard down, he would see just how much power he wielded over you. "What do you wish to say, Aemond?" You asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You stood silently, listening to every word Aemond had to say to you. Your face was filled with emotions but you couldn't tell what those were, it was a mix of confusion and scared. You took a step back from Aemond, unsure of what to say or what to do. "You… what did you want to say?" You said while biting your lower lip nervously. Aemond's sudden approach surprised you, making you uneasy for some reason… You had never seen him so forward before, it wasn't like him. He stepped closer. He had to get this right. He took a deep breath and continued. “I-I… I wish to…” he stumbled a bit. He had to collect himself. “I have known you for a long time my lady, and ever since the day I first saw you my life has changed. Every time I look at you my heart beats faster. Every time you walk through these halls I have to stop myself from following you. My lady, I want… no… I need you. You are my everything."

You feel butterflies in your stomach at Aemond's words as he speaks of his feelings for you. You'd never heard something so romantic from anyone, let alone Aemond. You were speechless. Your mind was racing and you were not sure what to say. "Aemond..." You said while biting the inside of your cheeks, feeling overwhelmed by his confession. "I don't... I didn't expect this. I thought you... felt the way about someone else." You looked down playing with your fingers, trying to find the right words to say in return. “Do you… have someone else then, my lady?” He asked with a nervous expression on his face. He was not sure if he wanted to hear the answer to that question. He had to find out. But could he bear to hear you tell him that you loved another?! The thought of another man touching you, being embraced by your arms, kissing your soft lips was… it made him feel sick with jealousy and rage. No, why would you ever be interested in someone else? Surely he had to be your one and only.

“Darling…” he took a step even closer, you two were almost face to face. “There is no one but you. I dream of you, when I lay with those whores I close my eyes and see your face. You…” he paused. “You are perfect for me.” He grabbed your hand, his body trembling, nervous about your answer. “Please, say something. Tell me I’m wrong.” He whispered, his breath trembling. Aemond looked you in the eyes. “No. There has never been anyone else. How couldn’t I fall for someone like you? You are a beauty second to none. I do not deserve you for I am just a second son, just a prince. It is true I am the second son but you are my first love.” He held out his other hand. “Please, let me court you, my lady.” He said while holding back a smile. He was waiting for your response. Your thoughts were still racing, feeling confused and overwhelmed by Aemond's words and gestures at that moment. You look up at him, biting your lower lip as you tried to gather your thoughts. You didn't know what you should do or say but there was something Aemond's words brought to your mind a question you had been asking yourself for a while now. You looked up and met his eye, hesitating in what to say but you decided to just be honest. You took a deep breath and exhaled. "Aemond…" You said quietly. "I was wondering… do you truly love me?".

Aemond gulped. Could you truly be asking him that?! A question he had been dying to hear fall from your lips but could not bring forth. He was speechless, his mind racing, his heart beating faster than the drums of war. Was that your way of accepting his feelings? Or was that your way of turning him down? “Do I love you?” Aemond repeated the question. “My lady… I do not think I can love anyone else.” "Say it, Aemond." Your tone had become firm, as your eyes were looking straight at Aemond. There is no going back and you both knew it. "Say that you love me." You took a step closer to him, your face right in front of his. You wanted him to say it. "And mean it with all your heart." You spoke, putting your hands on his chest. You knew he was about to say it, you could feel it. He took a deep and nervous breath. You were so incredibly close to him. He could see your eyes, and hear your soft breath. He felt his heart racing and almost skipped a beat. He could not help but notice just how beautiful you were. But would he say the words? He paused and gulped. He had to say it. He had to mean it. He had to be true to his feelings or otherwise live with a regret worse than death. Aemond took a step closer placing his hands gently on your face and stared directly into your sparkling eyes. He had been dreaming of this moment. “I love you. I love you with all my heart.” The words just… poured out of him. His feelings had overcome him. He had no way of stopping them. There would be no turning back once he spoke them. But he had no choice. You deserved to hear the words. You deserved to hear how he felt. “I love you. I love you with everything that I am.” And he meant it. He meant every word.

You felt the coldness of your husband's touch after months of your marriage and knew things had changed. You knew something was wrong and wanted to have a word with Aemond about it only for him to keep sending you away. You confronted him late one night in your shared chambers, alone, with no one around. "Aemond, what happened to that sweet and loving man I once married?" You asked with a sad expression on your face while sitting on the bed watching him. You had noticed that Aemond was slowly becoming cold and distant towards you. You had noticed his behavior change ever since the wedding night when your marriage was consummated. He no longer looked at you the same way and didn't show any emotions towards you, almost as if he was trying to hide the marriage from the world. You had tried confronting him about this a few times before and he had no answer, only excuses and half-hearted replies.

Aemond was sitting in a plush black leather chair opposite his wife, trying to contain his emotions. He hated seeing you sad, he hated seeing you cry, it was like an aching pain that he could not shake. But he could not tell you. You had to know why he did what he did but how could he ever tell you. How could you ever understand? He had to keep his voice soft, his expression stern, he could not show emotion. He hated the thought of you finding out what he had done, it was the one thing he feared the most. “Oh, my dear wife.” Aemond took slow steps toward you. His movements were cold and unenthusiastic. “What has happened to me? I’m not sure. It is nothing to worry over my love. I am merely busy with my duties. The Realm needs me more than you.” He took his place on the bed beside you, looking away from his wife. Why were you being like this, always nagging him about the smallest things? Always making mountains out of molehills. He had important work to do, you had become merely a distraction. "Oh but, Aemond…" You said, slightly annoyed by his tone. "And why do you only love the realm? Is there no love left for me? Is that why you act like this? You are always alone with that cold and distant gaze. You once were sweet and loving but I am not so sure anymore if that man is still in you."

You were getting angrier the more you spoke since you've been having mood swings lately and could react to nothing. Standing up with your hands on your hips while you stared at him, not breaking eye contact. You wanted answers. "You are ignoring me, Aemond," you said, your voice growing sterner. You slowly approached your husband, stepping closer to him and resting your hands on his shoulders. "We hardly speak. You act as if I am not there. You use the excuse of duties to keep me away. But you don't want me. I know it and I can feel it… Tell me, Aemond, do you still love me?" You took a deep breath attempting to calm yourself. You looked so desperate, so vulnerable. Of course, you would ask him something like this in a situation like this. He looked up to you with a frown. He could not believe you would question his love for you. What would cause you to think such a thought?! “You silly woman.” He sighed. You were pushing his buttons. He could not bring himself to yell at you, but maybe that was what you needed. He knew what you wanted to hear. “Yes! I love… you. Happy?” There, he said it. He hoped that would shut you up.

Those cold words wounded you but you tried to keep your emotions in check. You had to fight the urge to give him a harsh word. You didn't expect Aemond to have grown cold to you. Taking a step back and sat back down on the bed, your voice sounding defeated. "Very." You finally replied. Your voice sounded soft as you tried to keep your composure together. You wanted to cry, you just didn't expect this. You were expecting to love your marriage to a handsome prince to a T. But you were wrong. Oh, how you were wrong… You didn't know what went wrong. You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment or reason. You didn't understand the whole situation, you could feel Aemond's coldness towards you and you knew that you had to do something but you just didn't know what. You were getting desperate.

You were walking through the halls of the Red Keep, as everyone was busy getting ready for the feast. You heard two lords whispering to each other as you walked past, one of them talking about you. “The Prince's wife has gained weight. She's nothing close to what she once was in her youth.” He whispered, referring to your younger years, as the other lord chuckled at the comment. “She is no longer a beauty in the sight of men,” said one of them. You couldn't believe the way the Lords and Ladies spoke to you. They mocked you behind your back, calling you the Prince's delight and a whore, all of it hurt you deeply. But to see your own husband do nothing to stand up for you… it hurt more than any insult you had ever heard. You couldn't believe it. You had never seen this side of him before. You heard the whispers behind you and felt hurt. You were not the person you once were, but was beauty the only thing these lords cared about? But alas, it was true. You had recently put on weight. It was hard not to let your lifestyle get to you. The constant feasting and your love of wine were catching up to you. You did not wish to turn, you did not wish to confront them, you wanted to be left alone. You wanted this day to pass by without any issues but knew you still had to appear beside Aemond and hopefully, he be in a good mood.

As the feast started, you were placed next to your husband Aemond, who looked bored throughout the entire event. He didn't acknowledge any of the guests, or you. The lords whispered about your weight gain, behind your back to anyone who listened. Your dress was tight and the whispers bothered you, making you self-conscious. You ate in small portions, not wanting to appear gluttonous. You took a sip of wine and your eyes spotted Aemond, who was staring at you. You knew it was time for an important statement to clear the air. "Aemond." Aemond froze. Hearing his name be spoken. He was speechless. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears and could see the lords whispering and chattering, but for some reason, he could hear nothing. He felt as if he was going mad. But he knew that his hopes were in vain. He looked up to you. The look on his face was one of no emotions. What did you want now? “Yes, my lady?” Aemond asked with his usual apathetic tone. You seemed to be speaking, but he could barely hear you from all the feasting and loud music. What did you want to say?

"I'm pregnant."