#mature content warning

[sinnohsiblings]

(@lightofunova@)Reshi@Goliapede: The towering form of the beast struck fear into her heart, and a part of her wished to turn back. Loose rumors had given way to the fear in her heart, but she still wished to know answers. The truth was what she sought after all.

“Goliapede, please pardon my intrusion…” She fought to keep her voice from failing. “I have heard tales from that you seek out and kill those who are different than the normal types of pokemon…variants if you will, if such a story is true then-Why is it that you do so?!” She yelled up towards the hulking beast. “What reason do you have to destroy the uniqueness others hold?!”

(This ask comes with audio! Click play to listen along and hear Goliaopede's voice! Volume warning in cause you keep your audio loud)

Goliaopede: Ah! My reputation precedes me~ even a lowly entity of...truth...knows fragments of my great purpose. kek kek kek~ Tell me child...am I as monstrous in person as those tales claim? Or am I more than you ever imagined?

Goliaopede: You see child, it is my duty to purge the void of all malignant malfunctions in the grand design of the great cosmos. Those "unique variations" aren't supposed to exist-

Goliaopede: Much like my own. Therefore they must be culled, like the invasive pests they are~ and only once they are all eliminated may I be cured of my own affliction. I don't expect a fragmented half of a dragon to understand. The great design is far beyond your realm of responsibility or comprehension, young truth. Now, scamper back off to your mortals, like a good low-level "deity". 7/20

[theblackestvalkyrie]

In Defense of You

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x black!wife!Reader {Alternate Universe}

Summary: A little look into the life Miguel commandeered in the alternate universe filled with snippets and moments of love that ultimately lead to disaster......Or the one where Miguel took his alternate's place and gets you and your family killed. [TW/A/S/F]

Warning: Angst, marital smut, character deaths, murder, pregnancy, squirting, anxiety, Spider-Man 2099 lore HEAVILY referenced, reader body descriptions, insinuations of relationship/marital abuse, POV changes, attempted murder, housewife mentality, low-ish self-esteem reader, depictions of violence, slight OOC Miguel because this is before his family died and he closed himself off, SAPPY SOFT MIGUEL, vomit, bilingual family, Spanish language used but I gave up halfway through lmaoo, Spanish speaking black reader, mentions of alternate universe stuff like tv shows, technical marital cheating, no use of y/n, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MIGUEL’S FAMILY.

A/N: I was inspired by the movie scene in the gif and then I saw this pic on TikTok and thought it paired well. Realistically, I think the timeline/Source/Universe would have noticed if Miguel was there for too long where he doesn’t belong but I wanted this to make you care about the characters and story so lmaooo. This takes place after Miguel and Lyla create a way to travel through universes and BEFORE he recruits the first Spider-Man (Earth – 67) to his cause. I don’t know what Earth this happened on in the movie so I just made it 22 and also made up that counterpart’s job and any and all allegations of marital abuse.

It started with a morbid curiosity. After he had made the discovery of alternate realities and then the way to travel to them it was only natural for Miguel to want to see those other lives. His own life on Earth-928 hadn’t been anything to be proud of. He had every opportunity in his younger years being almost too smart for his own good. He could have done anything, been anything and he ended up at Alchemax. A megacorporation that was every bit the definition of capitalism and big government all at once. They had their fingers in damn near everything you could buy on the free market.

Alchemax was trying to corner the market on superhuman drugs. They had pretended to care about the well-being and safety of everyone by offering a serum to give people powers like the good old days when superheroes weren’t so rare. The overwhelming demand for this serum led to Alchemax skipping right passed any safety measures and straight to live human trials. So much death and chaos followed giving Miguel a crippling addiction to their serum and his genetics mutated beyond repair.

Again, it was only natural for him to seek other lives. To see what could have been. An that’s when he found Earth-22. He meant to be an observer in the beginning he really did. Meant to blend into the background not even an afterthought to anyone who would glance at him. His assistant Lyla (or LYrate Lifeform Approximation) knew not to say anything about how much time he was spending on that Earth-22 and he never volunteered any information about it, opting to keep it as a special place for himself.

Of course, Earth-22 wasn’t all that special except you. Nothing in those alternate universes had captured his attention so fiercely as you did. He hadn’t known you in his reality. If he had maybe he wouldn’t be the broken addicted man he was today.

You were everything he wanted in a life partner and then some. You dealt with a lot while holding down the household and raised your daughter Gabriella with more love and care than Miguel recognized in his own childhood.

You didn’t have many friends and rarely went out except for when it came to taking Gabriella out or running errands. Despite this seemingly monotonous life, you never let it affect you in a negative way and if you did, you never let it show. Miguel didn’t know if it that was admirable or stupid.

While you were seen as a goddess in Miguel’s eyes, his counterpart on the other hand was a disappointment. The Miguel of Earth-22 was everything he was not. Ignorant of the needs of his wife and even more so of their daughter. Instead, he pretended to be a man of integrity. Everything he did seemed to contradict what he said. He said he would take less hours at work yet he was working at Alchemax, another fact that blew Miguel’s mind, and in fact would double down on how much he worked while making excuses to his family.

He said he loved his wife yet he was fucking one of the clinical laboratory scientists that he worked with.

He said he loved his daughter yet he rarely spent any time with her and if asked probably couldn’t even tell you her age.

What a fucking disappointment.

Then it was like the universe answered his prayers. The alternate version of him was killed trying to stop a purse snatcher as cliché as that was. He had lived his whole life as an asshole and tried to redeem all that negative karma with a failed purse snatching attempt. All Miguel could see was your reaction to his doppelganger’s death. How devastated you and your daughter, Gabriella, who was only seven would be. How would you make ends meet? The Earth-22 Miguel was the main breadwinner of the family so how would you fair then? Would little Gabriella even remember her father? There were too many what ifs for Miguel to think clearly. His current life on Earth-928 was over thanks to the need to lay low after the blowout with Alchemax and becoming the new Spider-man, this was the fresh start Miguel needed and he did the only thing he could think of on short notice. He blended in.

You hummed happily under your breath as you soaped up a plate in the sink letting the background noise of Gabriella’s children’s show lull your mind to wander. Any minute now your husband Miguel would be home from work and then you would talk to him about it. Lately you felt like Miguel has been wondering. Not in terms of cheating that you knew of but lately things have been souring between you two. He wouldn’t hold you as closely anymore as he often did. The sex and kisses were pretty much non-existent and would only happen when you initiated it. It was starting to make you feel self-conscious and ugly. You knew your body was just a little bit off from giving birth to Gabriella and after she turned five you decided to get back into shape. This proved to be much more difficult to balance a relationship, household, personal needs AND a rambunctious toddler but you were proud of yourself for making it this far and keeping things together. But the relationship with Miguel was deteriorating lately and you wanted to do something to reconnect with him.

The sound of the front door opening broke you from your thoughts and you hurriedly dried your hands on a dishtowel and made your way to the living room. Gabriella had beaten you to Miguel first and was giggling excitedly already swept up into his large chest.

“Daddy, I missed you!”

Miguel peppered little kissed across her face before hugging her even tighter not saying a word. Eventually Gabriella had enough.

“Daddy, you’re squeezing too hard!” she frowned and kicked her little legs in mock protest although she made no real move to get out of his arms.

“Sorry honey.” Miguel laughed as he let her go and watched her scamper back to her place on the couch and completely enthralled with her show.

You moved from your hiding place in the kitchen archway pulling his attention from Gabriella and onto you. You shivered feeling his eyes pierce right through. It felt like he was looking straight into and through your soul and every hidden dark corner of your being.

“Hi…” Your voice trails off and cracks under the pressure of his gaze. If he noticed it, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he crosses the gap between you and into your personal space.

Miguel cradles your face tenderly breath fawning over your face lightly. His body seemed so much harder and chiseled then you remembered and being so close to Miguel after so long send a sharp tingle to your core. You were suddenly so much more aware of how badly your body had been neglected. Up close he looked so much more different than you remember. Harder, like there was a wall up or some kind of hurt that was still raw and emotional.

“Hi.” His eyes raked over your face as if to commit them to memory.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks suddenly confusing you.

You had never really asked Miguel to ask consent before and he never really asked. Things just kind of happened between you. You never even thought you could deny your husband access to your body.

You bit your lip in thought nodding shyly at his words and he grinned in triumph.

He met your lips kissing you softly as if for the first time making you gasp wantonly into his open mouth. He was making your head spin until Gabriella’s giggle at her show broke you apart. The last time you saw Miguel being this gentle with you was when you first started dating and you would be the biggest liar in the world if you said you didn’t miss the treatment.

Despite this you still wanted to talk to him about your relationship.

“Can we talk after dinner?”

He looked concerned but nodded pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

All throughout dinner he didn’t want to let go of your hand opting to eat with one hand and only letting go when you absolutely had to eat your food. Miguel was also much more attentive to Gabriella even going so far as to help her cut up her vegetables and listen to the stories about her time spent at the park that morning. He even cracked jokes and asked questions about your day. You were in awe it was like you had married a whole different man. After the meal, Miguel even washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen after sending you off to put Gabriella to bed with a tender kiss to both you and your daughters�� temples.

“You’ve had a long day mi amor (my love). I’ve got it from here.”

His actions and words made you feel loved in more than the seven years you’ve been married. You both got ready for bed although he was a lot slower than most nights and you both slipped under the sheets of your shared queen size bed.

“We still need to talk.”

The way Miguel had been acting since he had gotten home had filled you with the confidence to be open and vulnerable with him now. So, you told him. About how you didn’t feel like yourself physically. How the pressures of raising a child while he worked all day, while running the entire household without his help was taking you into the beginning stages of a depression you didn’t think you could get out of. How the sex between you two was non-existent and you felt how much he had loved you today. How it felt like it had been before the babies and the bills and the seemingly endless responsibility of it all was taking over.

Miguel didn’t hesitate to cross the bed and gather you in his arms in a strong hug.

He began apologizing profusely not making and excuses for the past behavior and verbally committing to being a better husband and father. You had no reason not to believe him as this was the first-time bringing these issues to him yet he took it better than you thought.

“I don’t ever want you to feel this way again mi amor(my love). You and Gabriella are the most important things in my life. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you both. Mi corazón es perfecto porque tú estás dentro de él (My heart is complete because you are in it). I want you to feel as loved as you have made me feel. No puedo vivir sin ti (I cannot live without you). Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

And show you he did. The sex that night was like no other with Miguel being more attentive and loving as ever. You lost count of how many times he made love to you that night and how many times you came.

You tried to keep it down for Gabriella’s sake you really did but the things Miguel was doing with his tongue were making things difficult. Miguel’s lips were wrapped around your clit suckling like a newborn calf while he worked your opening over with three thick fingers.

“Give me another orgasm baby I know you can. Quiero sentirlo (I want to feel it).”

With a quiet sob you came around his fingers shaking and quivering. Quickly, Miguel rose to his knees on the mattress and spread your legs wide bending them at the knees into an M shape before grinding against your slick heat.

“You think you can take some more baby?”

You were already past your limits tonight never having been this sexually worn out in your life but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now but underneath your husband.

“Por favor, sí, lo necesito (Please, yes, I need it)!”

Miguel slipped his cock into you giving you a second to adjust before he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. The curve of his shaft was made for your insides as you molded around him perfectly and his cock head rubbed the spongy mound of your g-spot deliciously.

Immediately you start creaming around him the moans in your voice getting louder and louder not even thinking about the child sleeping down the hall.

But Miguel did and with his hand over your mouth and his face in your neck he sang praises of devotion and love to you while he pulled another blinding orgasm from your body.

He held you down into a mating press and pounded your shaking form into the mattress harder when you began to squirt around him drenching the lower half your bodies and the bed. Miguel kissed the tears streaming down your face as he whispered more words of affirmations rocking into you slowly.

“Eres mi todo (You are my everything”).

Miguel was cheating on you. The Miguel of Earth-22 had been having a whole ass extramarital affair with his co-worker and Miguel had forgotten. He had been so enthralled with you and Gabriella that he had completely forgotten about the mistress problem.

Marisol Medina was a newly hired clinical laboratory scientist working in the same department as Miguel as his subordinate. On Earth-928 Miguel had worked in the genetics department and it seemed Earth-22 was the same. The only difference being that Alchemax wasn’t creating super serums here and his doppelganger had actually been the head of the Genetics Department which in retrospect was an HR nightmare. That meant that Earth-22 Miguel had hired Marisol in the first place. Maybe he hired her in the hopes of taking her on as a mistress? Which made sense because if he was being honest Marisol’s job could have been done by a slightly trained chimpanzee. It made Miguel sick to even think about.

Marisol was everything you weren’t. She at least a foot taller and a few pounds thinner having never had children nor the natural curves you were genetically blessed with. Instead of the natural curls and headwraps he loved on you, Marisol had thick wavy auburn hair running down her back. She couldn’t speak Spanish as well as you could, Miguel would find out later that this was a complete lie in order to get closer to him, and in fact that was apparently how they had connected in the first place. Of course, he had to nip that in the bud quick and started treating her like a co-worker and less like a mistress.

Miguel had waited until he was the last one in the office to approach her. Predictably, Marisol had stayed behind too. He had been successfully ignoring any attempts that didn’t have to do with work and ignored her phone calls outside of work even going so far as to block the number.

She had approached him with tears in her eyes and Miguel cringed internally at the cruel nature of it all.

“What’s going on Miguel? First you ignore me at work and now you won’t pick up my calls? What did I do wrong?!”

Miguel sighed, “I love my wife, Marisol. Whatever thing we had is over. I’m sorry we had anything in the first place.”

Marisol covered her mouth in a barely contained sob as he continued. Might as well rip the rest of the Band-Aid off.

“You can still keep your job if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not that much of an asshole. From now on I’m your boss not your boyfriend. It’s over.”

He left but not before catching the blank look on Marisol’s face through the tears. If Miguel had been a more observant man, he would have seen the hatred and revenge brewing behind her eyes.

With Marisol taken care of, Miguel toyed with the idea but ultimately gave up the idea of even being Spider-Man in this universe. Not only did he have a crippling addiction to Rapture, thanks to a blackmail attempt by the Alchemax of his original universe, but would it take too much time away from his new family. This was the break he needed. Away from the chaos of being Spider-Man and back to where he belonged. With Gabriella and you. And why shouldn’t he treat you both as if this was his reward for every fucked up twisted thing that had happened to him? You both deserved happiness and so did Miguel.

Still, he had to take those fucking Rapture injections. Getting time away to dip into the stash he had stolen were getting low. Not critically but enough for Miguel to go back to his original Earth and bring back more. Developing more was out of the question. Alchemax had mad it nearly impossible for it to be recreated outside their labs. Even if he wanted to, he would need to have equipment in the home. With you being a stay-at-home mom, there was no way you would ignore a gigantic laboratory setup in the house.

With added trips to Eath-928 for Rapture and Miguel assimilating to his doppelganger’s life, your little family slowly fell into a comfortable routine.

One year had passed and your family was flourishing. Gabriella was now eight and showing an interest in soccer. Miguel was still showing you the love and appreciation you had asked for and this made the relationship flourish. You finally felt like the energy was being reciprocated and you couldn’t be happier. On top of all of this you found out you were pregnant.

Miguel had actually cried when he found out which threw you because he hadn’t done the same when you were pregnant with Gabriella. You just chalked it up to the heart-to-heart conversation you had last year and didn’t think too hard on it.

Family trips had become more recent as of late and this just added to the happy feeling all around. Today was a trip to the beach, something that was seriously needed in the summer months.

“Em, hurry up we’re gonna be late!”

Gabriella’s soccer ball came flying down the stairs the same time as she did and you would have laughed if the ball hadn’t flown over your head and grazed the mirror hanging in the foyer.

“What did I say about balls in the house!?” You scolded her smoothing the curls of her head as she passed to grab her ball.

“Not to do it in the house. But I want to bounce it on my head like the real players!”

She demonstrated this by attempting to balance the ball on her head but you quickly grab it and replace it with a kiss instead.

“If you practice soccer, you won’t be able to go to the beach today. You don’t even have your sandals on!”

This seemed to snapped her out of her soccer haze and she squealed in excitement as she ran to put on her shoes.

As if on cue Miguel pulled into the driveway and bared through the front door with several shopping bags full of snacks and sunscreen. His face lit up at you and he dropped his bags and gathered you in his arms kissing any exposed skin.

“Hi baby.” He dropped you and kissed you hungrily then dropped to his knees and kissed your swollen stomach addressing the unborn child in your womb.

“Hi baby.”

You laughed as the baby pressed against your abdomen to nudge their fathers’ lips and Miguel grinned. At seven months you thought you were huge but Miguel wouldn’t hear it and often kissed your stomach like he did now.

“Did you see that honey? He knows me for sure.”

A boy. You and Miguel had been ecstatic when you had heard and even Gabriella had been excited to have a brother when you both sat down and told her then news.

The beach proved to be an excellent idea. The day was filled with snacks and fun but both you and Gabriella had been tired by the end of it. This left Miguel to pack up the supplies you brought in while you took the trash to the nearby can on the sidewalk.

“Cute family.” You jumped in surprise to find a woman in large sunglasses and a floppy beach hat obscuring her face.

“Oh, thank you!” You grinned watching Miguel help Gabriella stomp on her sandcastle when he was supposed to be packing up the toys and towels.

“How old is she?”

“She’s eight now.” You couldn’t help but gush.

“I have a nephew around her age. Maybe they go to school together?”

Before you could spill anymore of your private life you could hear Miguel shouting for you.

“I better get going Miss?”

“My name is Catherine.” She smiled shaking your hand.

“I’ll see you around Catherine.” You smiled back and waddled back to your family.

“Who was that?” Miguel frowned wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder.

“Just someone who thinks our family is cute.” You tease pinching his side.

Miguel laughs and scoops Gabriella onto his shoulders making her squeal and ignoring the way the vanilla ice cream in her hand dripped down the cone and onto his shirt.

“Well of course they do! Just look at this little sand goblin!” He tickles his daughter’s calves and she laughs and squeals. They make a beautiful picture together and it makes you want to snap a picture so you pull your cellphone out of your bag in the sand and snapped a few before recording a short video as well.

“This is definitely cute.” You laugh at the mess of ice cream on his shirt growing.

“Cariño (honey), help me!” Miguel waves to you in mock terror as Gabriella smashes her ice cream into the side of his face laughing the entire time. As you stopped the video and cleaned Miguel up you couldn’t help but notice a sinister feeling creeping up your spine.

 Running into Catherine was becoming such a regular occurrence at this point that you two just started planning things to do together instead. It was nice to have a friend again. An actual girlfriend to confide in the things you couldn’t with Gabriella or Miguel.

This day you and Catherine had planned a much-needed manicure and pedicure day and had ordered from your favorite burger spot. You had been craving it all day and you both had arrived back at Catherine’s house to eat on her patio before moving inside to enjoy the cool air conditioning.

You sighed reclining back in your chair and kicking up your feet enjoying the breeze from the A.C. Miguel had been worried as of late with your perinatal period being considered a moderate risk pregnancy. You had been determined to have a good and relaxing time despite this and Miguel had reluctantly agreed to let you go out.

“I fucked your husband.”

You froze. Your sense of peace absolutely shattered by the whiplash of your friend’s statement.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I fucked your husband.”

Catherine’s face was strangely blank and emotionless. This was a hard contrast from the smiling funny person she was just minutes ago.

If she was joking or not you genuinely couldn’t tell. You set your drink down and clutched your stomach nervously.

“What the fuck are you taking about? If this is a joke Catherine it’s not very funny.”

“My name’s not Catherine you stupid bitch. It’s Marisol. I’m so sick of pretending to be your friend. Having to hear all about your pathetic little problems and your little brats every fucking day has been driving me crazy.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This couldn’t be the same woman you had become friends with over the past few months but here she was now out of her seat and towering over you with a disgusted look on her face.

“Miguel’s a liar you know. You can’t trust him. He told me he loved me. That he would leave you and that brat. But he goes and knocks you up.”

Her fist comes swinging in a heavy right hook to the side of your face and you’re on the floor before you can react to the jarring information of your husband’s infidelity. The world spun on its axis and you landed hard on the ground as Catherine now Marisol began kicking the side of your head and back with her boot. Your instincts kick in and you curled up in a ball protecting your stomach from the violent assault. You could feel the anger in each one of her punches and kicks, the pain of it all making you physically vomit on the floor and her boots.

Marisol screamed in disgust and grips a handful of your braids before pushing your face back into the vomit and rubbing you in it like a dog being punished for pissing in the house.

“You nasty fucking bitch! Look what you did to my shoes!”

She drops your limp form into the mess on the floor and spits on you.

“That’s supposed to be my baby you cunt.”

Marisol stepped over you kicking you in the side this time and walked into the kitchen rambling to herself. You knew then that she was going to kill you and your baby. You had to get away. With all of the strength you had left, you crawled to your phone which was now on the floor along with the rest of the contents of your purse.

Just as you touched the phone, you were yanked backwards hard by your legs. A knife in Marisol’s hand flashed menacingly, the jagged tip slicing your arm as you fought back.

“Stay still you fucking bitch. I want my baby.”

Pain bloomed in white searing heat and you saw spots behind your eyelids. You screamed bloody murder in an attempt to get anyone to hear you as the knife began to slice into your side.

Miguel was worried. You had promised him that you were going to call him when you got to your friend’s house. Normally Miguel wouldn’t be so possessive but with the delicate nature of your pregnancy you’re lucky Miguel let you go out at all. Yet you hadn’t called.

Miguel peaked in on Gabriella taking a nap in her room before closing the door and summoning Lyla on his interdimensional watch. Immediately Lyla’s small holographic figure appeared.

“Nice digs Miguel! You’ve made quite a life for yourself here although the style is a little dated.” she judged as her figure flew around the room to various objects obviously excited to be in the space Miguel hadn’t previously allowed her.

“Where is the little rugrat? I’m dying to meet her! She can just call me Auntie Lyla!”

“Cut the shit. I need you to track a phone for me.”

Lyla frowned and studied his face.

“You going back to being Spider-man? The hero we all know and love?”

“Maybe…...She hadn’t checked in.” he answered cryptically ignoring the hopeful tone of her voice typing his missing wife’s number into the watch. Almost immediately on the map popped up a tiny glowing dot where you supposedly were.

“See she’s safe and sound at 426 Herald Way owned by a Marisol Medina.”

Miguel froze, bile rising in his throat. His Spidey senses had been tingling since before you hadn’t checked in but Miguel didn’t want to be controlling like the previous Miguel had been.

“Lyla, I need you to watch Gabriella for me.” He pulled the suit on and flew through the door without a second thought

“Hey I don’t babysit for free!” She shouted after his retreating form.

When you woke up the first thing you thought of was your son. Your movements cause sharp pains to blossom across your body making you cry out in pain. A pair of hands came to cradled you gently. It was Miguel. You could see Gabriella curled up on the hospital couch asleep clutching a stuffed animal snuggled into her blanket asleep which soothed some of the panic but your main concern was your unborn child.

“Baby, can you hear me?”

Immediately you began to cry and Miguel shushed you moving to sit on the bed. Everything that had happened came rushing back to you. You couldn’t calm down seeing your slightly deflated abdomen.

“My baby Miguel. I need my baby.”

He couldn’t survive at almost eight months, could he? All the knowledge from your previous pregnancy with Gabriella and the baby prep books that you had diligently looked over and memorized were nowhere to be found. Instead, your mind spiraled into panic and negativity.

“He’s fine baby he’s in the NICU. I just saw him a few minutes ago he was sleeping. Please lay back for me.”

He gently guided you back down as you continued to cry silently this time.

“Miguel did you cheat on me?” you cried.

His face dropped and for the first time in a year, the illusion of your happy marriage shattered. All this time had Miguel been trying to make up for whatever guilty conscience he had when he had come home that day a suddenly changed man?

Was this pregnancy just meant to distract you from the strange things that Miguel had been doing like leaving at random times?

He thought you didn’t know but you did. That weird watch he never took off even in the shower. The way you would catch him looking at you or Gabriella sometimes. He would get a faraway look in his eyes like he couldn’t believe you were real and in front of him. You had thought that it was love but now you didn’t know who he was anymore.

“Baby I can explain.”

“Save it. I don’t know who you are right now Miguel. I thought I could trust you but that almost cost me and my child’s life. I let this woman into my life. I told her private things about me. I feel violated Miguel. I don’t know if I will ever feel safe again.”

For the first time in your life, you saw Miguel truly cry. You put up walls around your heart so that you could focus on the logic of the situation instead of getting sucked into his tears.

Miguel could sense this and gripped your hands in his.

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Just tell me what’s going on!”

So, he told you. About where he’s really from. About the first time he saw you and what really happened to your Miguel. The cheating, the lies, the secrets. It was all revealed. This explained why Miguel had suddenly switched from absent husband and dad to ‘Father-of-the-Year’ in the span of a few hours. Why he went from demanding they all speak Spanish in the home to speaking mostly English and why he never seemed to know where anything was in the house for a few months. He even told you how he dealt with Marisol….

Miguel could smell your blood a block away as he swung through the buildings to Marisol’s home a little outside the city. Crashing through the patio sliding doors, glass flying everywhere, he was met with a scene that confirmed his worst fears.

You were on your back the room covered in your blood. He couldn’t see the shallow rise and fall of your chest but he thought you were dead. Marisol loomed over you still slicing and trying to follow the steps she researched a few weeks ago on how to perform the procedure but she stopped when Miguel barreled in like a bull in a china shop. Fangs out and Rapture coursing through his veins.

“Miguel, you came back!”

Red. All he could see was red and he let his rage take over. Before Marisol could come towards him, he tackled her, hands wrapped around her throat in a death grip.

“Miguel w-wait! I lo-ve yo..ou” She gasped and choked, kicking and scratching at every part of him she could get her hands on.

He didn’t feel it.

All he could think about was the loss of half his family. Their baby boy hadn’t even taken his first breath yet. Hadn’t even been given a fair shot at life. You were dead. How would he tell Gabbie what happened? How would she cope?

It made his blood boil. So, he kept squeezing her neck.

He squeezed even as she started crying and the blood vessels in her eyes started to burst from the pressure.

He squeezed even as she began to piss and shit herself as her tongue and lips swelled.

He squeezed until her head shot across the room and she stopped struggling.

He couldn’t feel anything.

These revelations left you shocked with so many more questions. It made your head spin.

Miguel could see how overwhelming this was for you and sat in silence to give you time to process this. The doctor came in cutting the heavy tension and giving you a rundown of your injuries and permission to visit the NICU when you felt better.

Baby O’Hara, as he was still named, was now ten days old. You had already missed so much when you had been in surgery and then a little recovery time to get the strength to see him. On your first visit you requested to go alone. Everyone had spent one-on-one time with him but you and it added to the feeling of missing out. On your second visit, Gabriella, and much to your slight annoyance Miguel, accompanied you to see the new family member to welcome him together.

Despite his small age, Baby O’Hara had a full head of hair perfectly smoothed and you briefly wondered if he would get your curl pattern as he grew bigger. His size made the wires and tubes seem so much bigger than they were. Despite this, he seemed as strong as ever his little legs kicking with curiosity.

You smile through your tears as you run a hand across the silk stands of his head, down his little chest.

As if he knew you were there, Baby O’Hare grabbed your thumb with surprising strength.

“Would you like to hold him?”

You jump in surprise but nodded eagerly as the nurse, who had been watching the event unfold, comes to the side of your wheelchair and gently folds the front of your hospital gown to expose enough of your chest for the baby but enough to remain modest.

She opens the incubator and expertly places him across your chest for skin-to-skin contact. You can feel your hearts beating together and you cradle him gently to you as Miguel and Gabriella crowd around you.

“He’s so tiny.” Gabriella stares in wonder.

You look at her for a minute just taking in both of your children, making it a point to ignore Miguel’s presence. Your daughter had been through a lot these past few weeks. Miguel hadn’t told her the whole story so all she knew was that she had almost lost both her mother and new brother. It had made her more clingy than normal which you didn’t mind since you could use some close family time.

“Do you want to name him?”

Her face immediately lights up at the idea as she excitedly looks back and forth between you and Miguel.

“Can I really?”

“Absolutely, my love. Anything you want.”

You couldn’t help but to role your eyes at his words. Of course, Miguel would agree with you right now. After everything that happened, he was lucky he was even breathing the same air as you right now.

Gabriella bites her lip for a few minutes taking in her baby brother now fast asleep.

“I pick Benji.”

You can feel Miguel’s confusion but you hold back a laugh already knowing where she was going.

“Why Benji?” Miguel wondered

“If I ever get a dog, I would name them Benji.”

“I love it!” You laughed.

Baby O’Hare was officially named.

It had only been 6 months since everything happened. Couples therapy was going slowly. You were still hesitant to trust Miguel and it was starting to bleed into other aspects of your life. Like trusting him alone to watch the children. Logically you knew this Miguel was different from the one you married but he still could have told you about the mistress Marisol yet he hadn’t.

Miguel knew you didn’t trust him yet he never did anything to trigger you or rush you too forgive him. If anything, he was being more than understanding and you couldn’t tell if it pissed you off or made you fall more in love with him.

Benji, more practically named Benjamín, was doing well as a preemie according to his doctor and so was Gabbie you couldn’t be happier.

Of course, the happiness couldn’t last.

The rumbling started around noon. Benji had just gone down for his nap and Gabriella was home from school for summer break so she was playing in the living room. Your apartment building shook with such fierceness the pan that you had set on the stove to start lunch was thrown to the ground.

Panicked you rushed to grab Gabriella on your way to Benji’s nursery. As if on cue the infant started his high pitch crying obviously mad about the disrupted nap.

You grabbed him as carefully as you could as you all ran underneath the dining table for safety. Earthquakes in Nueva York were nonexistent so you could only imagine what could be happening.

The shaking and rumbling stopped but you didn’t dare get up yet for fear of aftershocks.

“Y/N?!”

It was Miguel decked out in his full Spiderman attire. He had shown you once when you asked but this was different. His face was panicked and he was breathing hard.

“Miguel!” You called to him as he climbed through the living room window and straight to your little family.

“Are you alright?!”

He frantically checked you all over for any sort of wounds before hauling you up careful of the baby still in your arms. He grabbed the baby sling off the couch nearby and helped you and Benji into it. Gabriella was clinging to your leg silent tears running down her face.

“We need to go.”

His eyes were darting everywhere and he looked nervous…. guilty even.

“Miguel what’s going on.”

He sighed in defeat. He swore to never again lie to you.

“It’s my fault. The quakes…everything.”

The ambient noise of Nueva York had changed from the usual city atmosphere to screams of terror and flashing light.

“The universe is collapsing. I didn’t even know this was a possibility. It has to be me…. what I did…”

Terror seized you as Miguel lead you all out on to the fire escape through the open window he entered through. He wrapped your arms around his neck and helped Gabriella onto his back.

“Hold on we’re getting out of here.”

 Swinging across the city you quickly realized what the screaming was for. People, cars, well everything was disappearing at an alarming rate. Miguel was swinging his ass off through the city but you knew that while he had the stamina, he couldn’t out run whatever it was forever.

“Miguel, you need to put us down!” You yelled over the wind.

He shook his head frantically.

“I can’t. Need to keep you safe.”

Up ahead the world was starting to disappear as well sandwiching you on all sides. Miguel could tell it was over. The weight of you all was wearing him down and the glitching was coming faster now. Even if he could get you away from the glitching you all couldn’t leave. Not without a watch to stabilize your energetic frequency to another universe like his did and he would need three.

Miguel stopped on what was left of the street as the people around you were in chaos letting you all stand on your own.

“Y/N I love you I’m sorry.”

He hugged you close sandwiching the children between you as you all sank to your knees in defeat.

You cradled his face in your hands sobbing as he took you all in. The way Gabriella looked like a perfect mix of you both. The tiny cute little features Benji was growing into like the little curl pattern he was starting to develop and you. The one who had drawn him to stay there in the first place. It was love at first sight when he first saw you that day as you ran errands and Miguel couldn’t fathom a day without you. Without all of you.

You kissed slow and needy knowing it would be the last time. You knew you wouldn’t get to tell him everything you wanted to say. How you did forgive him you were just being stubborn. There was only time for one last goodbye.

“Miguel I lo-”

The world turned white and his family was gone.

Miguel was alone again.

[mechanicalowls]

trapped in the hotel room

a terrornoss oneshot

ao3 link

rating: m

summary: brian is stuck in a hotel in canada at the beginning of covid. he decides to call someone he cares about to pass the time.

warnings: explicit nsfw content, masturbation, graphic descriptions of sex, swearing, cheating (don't cheat on your partners guys it ain't cool)

18+ CONTENT AHEAD: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

~~~

Dreadful wasn't even a good enough descriptor of how he was feeling. If there was a word worse than dreadful, even that couldn't describe all of the emotions Brian was feeling. Terrible, awful, rotten, he was just bad. No side stepping.

He had been stuck in that hotel for a good couple of weeks at that point, the queue for those seeking approval to re-enter America was longer than a line outside of a strip club at Happy Hour. Brian was terribly bored. He'd watched his entire Netflix catalog front to back twice, scrolled as far as he cared to on YouTube, and attempted sleep more than he ever had in his life.

He'd called Lanai so many times that he could audibly hear her annoyance with his pestering. He knew the second he returned home she'd be all over him for the foreseeable months, but she had a right to be frustrated. She had her own problems to deal with, nevermind her boyfriend constantly calling her at inopportune times just because he was bored and lonely.

He called his friends too. Of course he did, and they were all too keen on joking about his circumstances. Naturally, joking was everyone's way of coping with the problems the pandemic was beginning to give them. Upon hearing how Lanai was getting annoyed at his numerous calls, Brian didn't wanna risk the same with his friends either.

He'd called Nogla and Seth each twice, he'd had a really long call with Clyde, and a very brief call with Marcel. He'd had about ten calls with Evan; almost as many as he'd had with Lanai. He was terribly worried about the man. Ever since any sort of pandemic was suggested by the news, he'd been holed up in his house, getting groceries and other necessities delivered. Brian was pretty sure Evan hadn't seen or felt unfiltered sunlight in at least two months.

He'd been worried about Evan long before the virus struck. While he always had an air of indifference to his voice, he found the Canadian sounded completely monotonous most days. It was no secret that he was depressed, everyone could see it, and hear it. He really only had Nogla, Brock and Brian to play games with, as the others moved onto the big trending games as they came. They still played together of course, but not in the same way as they once had.

All that stuff with Craig certainly hadn't helped his mental state, especially since he'd been the criminal's first target before he found Brian to be an easier kill. Maybe the culmination of everything over the last two years had finally gotten to Evan, and Brian was worried that either he himself would find Evan in a less than alive state, or he'd get the second worst phone call of his life.

He cared for Evan more deeply than he'd ever admit to anyone, including himself. He supposed that's what fueled his constant ringing of the man he called his best friend. Evan didn't seem to mind, even turning on his camera for him at one point.

Even when they weren't calling, they were texting each other to an almost obsessive degree. Evan had been lonely far longer than Brian had, and bore the same worry he did on whether or not he was pestering. Brian had once told him that he was never a nuisance to him, despite what he may claim in videos. The last thing he wanted was Evan thinking he bothered him, it was quite the opposite, actually.

He'd never have enough of him.

Even still, he refrained from texting his friend for a while. He knew the man was an insomniac, but there was no doubt in his mind that Evan was asleep at that point, his last two messages remaining on “Sent” sealing his belief. Running out of options that were anything other than going to bed at seven in the evening, Brian began scrolling through Instagram.

After passing through the mundane posts from his friends and colleagues, Brian found himself looking at Lanai's page. She was also most likely asleep at that point, and he didn't want to risk waking her if she was, so this was a valid substitute.

He scrolled through her posts, reaching some from years back, even before they met. He landed on the one that had piqued his interest all those years ago. The one that had made him pursue her in the first place. Knowing the beautiful woman in these posts about being a gamer girl and Streamer would be his future girlfriend got him all sorts of giddy.

All sorts of giddy.

He was pent up. He hadn't had sex in almost 2 months, and he hadn't jerked off in even longer. Why hadn't he thought to sooner?

Brian almost felt like a creep as he palmed himself through his shorts while looking through Lanai's Instagram. It strangely felt wrong to be getting off to his woman without her knowledge. Regardless, he had a mission in mind.

He padded to the bathroom to retrieve a towel and a roll of toilet paper. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night, especially with nothing else to do.

He spread the towel out upon his bed and fetched his hand lotion from his suitcase, placing it on the bedside table with the toilet roll. Brian kicked his shorts off, leaving them and his boxers discarded on the floor at the side of the bed. He climbed back into place, pouring some lotion into his palm and pulling his hoodie up just above his belly button. Brian retrieved his phone with his empty hand and continued his scroll through Lanai's account while working up a slow pace.

Eventually, upon releasing into his hand and onto the towel, he remembered he and Lanai had sexted at one point. Brian eagerly swiped back through their text messages, skimming through weeks and weeks worth of conversations in search of those heavenly pictures.

However, he felt his eagerness melt off almost instantaneously as he paused to read an argument they had. It was months old, but it had happened just before he left for Ireland. It was dumb, it was petty, and the more Brian read the more he realized they both were in the wrong, but were too proud to just let it go.

Suddenly, he didn't want the pictures, and the combination of spunk and lotion coating his palm felt greasy and shameful. He wiped his hand and thigh off before crumbling the paper and tossing it to the floor. Brian was about to roll over and call it a night, but his screen lit up just then, playing a notification sound he knew all too well.

“spungylarry chair :]” the message read before retreating back into his notifications. Brian pulled it back down, and smiled a little as he tapped it.

Evan was awake then, and he'd replied to Brian’s question of what he wanted for his upcoming birthday. The caption was accompanied by a photo of a pleather chair that bore Spongebob’s face. Brian smiled genuinely at the innocent facade Evan gave him. It was cheesy, but his friend was so silly at times.

Another message popped up as Brian began to type. His eyelids flew all the way open, his breath caught in his throat, and his thumbs paused over the letters he'd been typing.

Evan had sent him a selfie. One of him giving him a pout. It wasn't a silly, over-exaggerated one, oh no. His camera was a bit above his head, casting his friends face and shoulders in blue light. Evan's head was cocked to the side, leaving his neck open for Brian to stare at. His chin was raised slightly, his eyebrows loose and drooping above the dark chocolate that swirled within his eyes.

Evan must have groomed himself since that morning, when he sent a different selfie. His hair was shorter, and his dirt mustache was no longer fraying. The way his hair fell over his eyes slightly struck a violent cord in Brian. The real center of attention, however, was his mouth.

Evan's lips were puffed out into the smallest pout. He'd always thought pouting just made you look like a child that was mad about not getting their way, but there was just something about the way Evan did it that caused Brian's chest to flutter and his gut to backflip.

And his dick to perk back up.

“pretty pleaz?” the next caption read. Brian stared at the photo for a solid five minutes, committing every last stray hair and crack in his best friend’s lips to memory. The photo was mesmerizing to say the least. Not only that, but the prospect of Evan of all people begging him, pleading with him for something, flooded every logical sense in Brian's head.

He was painfully hard now, but Evan didn't need to know that. He himself wasn't even sure why this one photo of his best friend had immediately shot blood into his nethers.

He had to reply.

And Brian had to breathe.

“i'll think about it, you scare me sometimes”

Yea, that was safe. And quick. Safe and quick. So Brian could scroll back upwards and stare at the selfie again. His dick perked up a bit more, and Brian swallowed thickly.

This was alot to process. It had to be just because he was jacking off anyway, right? It wasn't a secret that he found Evan attractive, but he'd never felt quite this way about him. Especially after he began dating Lanai all those years ago.

He'd had somewhat of a schoolboy crush on Evan when the man first slid into his YouTube DM's back in 2013. He'd strived to make videos that were on par with the Canadian's, and to find out that someone he admired so much liked him, some dumb college kid from Dublin, so much that he wanted to play games with him? And continue to play with him for seven years after that?

During that very first session, Brian had found his stomach to be filled to bursting with butterflies. His heart alternated between rattling against his ribs like an automatic rifle and skipping beats all together. His palms were slick against the controller, and he cursed the nervous quiver in his voice whenever he was directly addressed; more specifically, when Evan addressed him.

Those first two years of friendship felt more akin to a monarchy, at least between him and Evan. Evan would ask him to do something, a skit, a voice, to blow up Tyler's car in GTA, and Brian would do it no questions asked. He'd mentally scold himself for wanting to thank Evan for asking him to do it. He was the Canadian's perfect little lapdog, blinded by loyalty and playground-esque infatuation.

He supposed his crush on the younger man never truly died, only receded when he met Lanai. By then, he was such good friends with Evan that getting his sole attention, while still heavily desired, was just the norm and didn't have the same effect on Brian as it once had. He'd accepted at that point that his wishes for even just a chance to be more than friends with Evan were just that, wishes. Lanai had filled that void in Brian's heart. The hole wasn't quite Lanai-shaped, but she fit in it the best she could.

Now, he was here. Seven years later, with the man he knew deep down he adored, all to himself, albeit twelve hundred miles away. Brian stared at his reflection in the blackness of his screen. It had timed-out amidst his quiet contemplation, and soon lit up again with a reply from the man of the hour.

“i know ;]” was all it took for Brian to close his phone, take his dick into his hand again, and close his eyes.

Rather than memories and pictures of Lanai that he had memorized over the years, he found his mind drifting toward Los Angeles. Memories of that dark faux hawk that every gym bro had back then, tanned muscles accentuating the shape of every t-shirt and shorts combo. Those eternally indifferent, tired looking chocolate eyes Brian found himself drowning within.

Then they shifted, that ridiculously long emo flap the man had had when he was pitching his EDM career, the beginnings of his now infamous dark circles framing the spark of excitement within his eyes.

They shifted once more, his hair now falling just barely past his shoulders, pressed down beneath a trucker hat. A tattoo cascaded down his right arm now, the owl near his wrist taking up the most real estate. The beginnings of that now ever present dirt mustache shadowed his top lip in an oddly endearing way.

Then finally, the face he'd become intimately acquainted with over the last two months. His hair was shorter now, resting a bit above his shoulders. His bangs were parted, framing his face in tendrils of darkness. The dark circles had now fully formed, the chronic insomnia finally taking root. That mustache was fully visible now as well, bridging the space between his nose and upper lip.

Brian began panting at this visage of Evan, quickening his pace exponentially. This is the Evan he loved. The one he talked to every single day of his life. The one that did everything in his power to piss him off when they were recording. The one who remained in calls with him long after everyone else left. The one who had confided his depression in him, and nobody else. The one who had seen his worth when his world was crashing down amidst the hurricane of internet drama.

The one who was just a phone call away.

Like a catastrophic tidal wave, a sudden carnal desire pulled Brian beneath the enormous crests. A desire to do more than picture his best friend within the confines of his imagination. More than scrolling through the man's Instagram like an e-girl's tier three Twitch sub.

He wanted to hear the man's voice.

He needed to hear the man's voice.

Brian reluctantly paused his strokes, still gripping his length so as to not lose any progress he'd made. He reached for his phone and dialed a number he didn't need to memorize but chose to anyway.

While it rang, Brian spat into his palm, taking himself in hand once more.

“Mr. Fong is out at the moment, can I take a message for him?” Came Evan's attempt at a female voice on the other line. Brian froze in his tracks, the realization of his actions setting in.

He was going to fucking jack off to the sound of Evan's voice. Was he a fucking lunatic?!

“Hello? Earth to Handjob, you didn't butt dial me, did you?” Evan's monotone echoed in his head. Brian's dick twitched in his hand at just the sound of his voice, and he almost moaned.

“Yea, yea… sorry. I jus’ spaced out waitin’ fer ya ta pick up. Thought I was more important than a SpongeBob chair, but once again I'm proven wrong!” Brian bit back, attempting to hide the arousal in his voice. His cheeks burned, his heart stuttered, his guts tangled, and his cock was harder than it had been in a long time.

“Whatever man. What's up?” Evan questioned innocently. The line was quiet while Brian tried to think of a good excuse for calling his friend so late.

“Ah, nothin’ much. I jus’ was uh… not feelin’ right. In my head, I mean. Lanai's a bit mad at me now, right?” He rambled, hoping he sounded believable. It's not like Evan had reason to doubt his claims. He didn't know Brian was getting off to the sound of his voice.

But Evan was smart. He picked up the small details that others didn't. Surely he wouldn't randomly figure out that his best friend was a nasty little pervert that pleasured himself to a voice that belonged to neither him or his girlfriend.

Brian was overthinking it. He focused on the task at hand. Literally.

Evan chuckled, and Brian began his ministrations almost painfully slow. He heard the little huff that always followed Evan's laughs, and he yelped and closed his fingers around the base of his cock, keeping himself from ending this too soon.

This would only be a one time thing. His desperation needed to be reigned back in.

“Yea, I get it. You can just tell me if you like the sound of my voice. I know you do.” Evan said in obvious jest.

But he couldn't know how true of a statement it was.

What a cocky son of a bitch.

“A-alright. In all seriousness, Ev. Can ye just, uh… jus’ talk ta me? I jus’... I really need it right now, OK?” Brian spoke, almost whispering to keep the moan in his throat at bay. He heard Evan inhale sharply. It was silent for a moment or ten, Brian couldn't tell. He was half expecting to hear the dial tone for a moment before Evan finally responded.

“Uh, yea man sure. I can do that. I can talk for a while. What, um… what do you wanna talk about?” The Canadian asked awkwardly. Brian could almost picture the man playing with a loose strand of hair when he asked that. He began stroking his dick again, swallowing a groan at the friction of his sticky hand against the sensitive skin.

“I don’ care. Jus talk ta me please.” Brian grunted huskily. He bit his lip, closing his eyes and imagining Evan down in LA. Was it hot there? Was Evan wearing that cropped muscle shirt he usually saved for workouts and undershirts? Had his stomach toned back up again, or was there the smallest bit of pudge from his diet? Had he trimmed his happy trail while cutting his hair and fixing his mustache? Was he wearing those loose grey sho-

“Are you beating off right now Brian?” Evan bluntly asked him, seemingly out of the blue. All of the hairs on Brian’s body stood on end, his strokes halting in place, his breath stuck in his esophagus.

Evan was a fucking psychic. There's no other way to explain it. His best friend was a fucking psychic, and he'd just been caught masturbating like he was a dumbass kid that didn't know how to clear his search history. Brian swallowed as he wordlessly floundered for a response.

“Just, the way you're breathing. And you're being weird right now.”

What in the actual fuck was this guy on? He could tell by the way he was breathing?!

The little voyeuristic pervert in his head forced his hand back up and down his cock, now dribbling with pre-cum. The fact that Evan had caught him red handed (white handed?) excited him way too much for his liking. But, what the hell? He'd made it this far, and Evan didn't sound outright disgusted. It's not like either could do more than hang up in this situation. Fuck it, right?

Brian let out a breathy moan in reply. He heard Evan inhale sharply once more.

“Alright. Ok. That's uh… that's… yea…” Evan muttered, and Brian genuinely couldn't tell what he was feeling.

“‘m sorry.” He mumbled, biting his lip to keep another moan from escaping. He was almost successful.

“No, no. That's alright. Thats… wow.” Evan exhaled deeply. He heard the man shuffling on the other line. If Brian didn't know better, he'd think he was into it. Still, now he just felt guilty. This was most definitely out of Evan’s comfort zone, and Brian preferred to stay within those confines as much as he could.

“I can just go. We can pretend this never happened. ‘m sorry, Ev, I jus-”

“No, it's really fine, Brian. Really fine. We can keep going. I'll keep talking if you keep talking.” Evan interrupted him, his voice deeper and slightly louder, like the phone was pressed to those damn lips that started this whole thing.

“Ok.” Was all Brian managed, grasping his dick once more.

“Ok.” Evan parroted.

“What, ah… what are ye wearin’?” Brian posited awkwardly. He felt his face light up red when Evan snickered at the question.

“That's cheesy, Bri.” The man giggled. Brian rolled his eyes.

“Jus’ humor me. Please.” Brian muttered in embarrassment. Evan hummed in acknowledgement.

“That Metallica tank top. You know the one. The grey shorts that were pants. Are you imagining it right now, Bri?” Evan spoke in a sultry tone that sounded almost alien coming from his mouth. It was so hot, and Brian was so hard.

“Y-yea. I know them. I can see ‘em.”

“Good. I cut my hair today. Trimmed my mustache. You could probably tell from the picture I sent.” Evan continued, his voice circling around Brian's whole being and enveloping him in a warm blanket of arousal. This was the most erotic thing he'd ever experienced.

“D'ya… oh… did ya trim anythin’ else?” What a strange question to ask anyone. But he just knew Evan would pick up exactly what he wanted to know.

“Nope. It's not long enough to trim yet. You like it a bit thicker though, don't you, Bri?” Evan asked him, the deep, roughness of his voice reverberating in Brian's bones and wringing a moan from his chest. He'd seen Evan in the nude before, when they were roomed together during PAX in 2015. Evan didn't really have much body hair to speak of, aside from his arms, legs, and nethers of course. His happy trail was dark against his belly. He had a noticeable farmers tan, so the dark hair really stood out against the lighter skin.

Brian wished in that moment that they were face to face, so he could kiss his way down that toned stomach, run his tongue and teeth through those coarse hairs. Watching the way Evan writhed beneath him as he finally sunk even further down to-

“I do. Ya got me.” Brian breathed with a humorless chuckle, banishing those thoughts for another time. He needed to focus on the here and now. Not on the wishes he once had. He heard Evan hum into the phone. He swore he heard him gasp lightly too.

“I knew it. I remember the way you stared at me back then, Bri. Back in 2015. When we shared a room. I bet you didn't think I saw you looking at me. You would've smothered me if I gave you the go ahead, wouldn't you?” Evan questioned, the pure filth spewing from his lips lighting Brian's cheeks, heart, and dick ablaze. He panted into the phone, sweat moistening his entire being.

“You wanted me so badly then. I can only ever imagine the things you'd have done to me. Kissed my mouth raw, marked me up, like you always wanted to do. Let everyone know who had the rightful claim over Mr. Evan Fong in all his glory.”

“Christ, Ev…”

“I could've given you one look and you'd have me on my back in seconds, fucking me into the mattress. No one would ever be able to compete with you, isn't that right, Bri?” Evan's words coiled around his very core, entrenching him, like a fly caught in honey.

He was putty in Evan's hands. He always had been.

Brian was almost there now, eyes squeezed shut, phone on speaker, laying next to his head. He was drenched in sweat, legs twitching violently as he built up to orgasm. He moaned and groaned in ecstasy, the younger man's words cutting deep into his heart.

“You'd ruin me for everyone else. As if I'd ever need anyone else. If you could, you'd come running down here the moment I asked. You'd come running to me, kiss all my problems away. You'd have your way with me as much as you'd want, and I'd let you, Bri. You'd finally have me allllll to yourself, just the way you've always wanted.”

“Evan… oh god, Evan…”

“You'd do anything I'd ask you to, right? You'd spend the rest of time inside me if I asked you to, wouldn't you?”

“Y-yes Ev… christ… I'd do anythin’ fer you, Ev…” Brian moaned, feeling his climax approaching quickly as he jerked vigorously, imagining his hand was Evan's insides. It had never truly festered how badly he'd wanted Evan. Hearing the man himself saying it aloud to him gaped the Evan-shaped hole in his heart once more, any thought of Lanai temporarily forgotten.

“There is one thing I'd like you to do for me now, Brian.” Evan almost whispered. Brian leaned towards his phone more.

“W-what? Whatever ye want, I'll do it.” Brian managed, swallowing harshly as he tried to hold in his release.

“Cum for me, Brian~” Was all Evan had to say before Brian erupted with a moan facing the phone, white spurts of cum spraying onto his hand, thighs and belly. His legs shook violently as he milked out his orgasm, never wanting the moment of pure bliss and ecstasy to end. When it finally began to hurt, Brian whimpered slightly, releasing his cock, and resting his hand (palm up) on the towel beneath him.

“Jesus christ, Ev. Where'd all that come from?” Brian asked the other man finally after regaining his breath. He heard Evan hum.

“I've been doing alot of thinking lately. About back then. About us.” Evan murmured, every trace of seduction in his voice vanished, like it had never happened.

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

“What about us?” Brian asked nervously. They were veering out of Evan's comfort zone quickly, Brian could tell.

“Why I never went after you. It was obvious you liked me. I mean, Tyler and Brock thought we were…” Evan trailed off, a hint of sadness tainting his tone. Brian swallowed.

“Thought we were together?” He offered.

“Yea. I… I like you too, Brian.” Evan confessed. Brian blinked, processing the words individually.

“Like?” He asked.

“I never stopped liking you. I was just… scared? I was scared that I got the wrong signs. I was scared of commitment.” Evan sighed, that sadness now fully corrupting his words.

“I was scared too, Ev. I'd never felt that way ‘bout anyone before. I didn't wanna ruin us, so I just left ya be.”

“I know. I wish things were different.” Evan confessed, his voice cracking ever so slightly. Brian hated that. He hated himself for making Evan sad; for making him cry.

“I still like you too, Ev. I never stopped likin’ ya. Had I known ye liked me back, I woulda been on a plane to LA the moment PAX ended.” Brian said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. He heard Evan sniffle.

“I know, I know. It's just… you have Lanai now. She makes you happy, she does things for you that I never could. And I'm happy for you, Brian. I just… I just wish it was me.”

“D'you want it to be you?”

“I do, but-”

“I haven't gotten a ticket back to Washington yet. When they let me outta here, I'll fly down to ya. I'll tell Lanai I'm still stuck here. We can give it a try. Give us a try.” Brian positited without thinking, taking Evan aback.

“But… that just doesn't seem right… I don't want you to fuck up your relationship if this doesn't work. You deserve to be happy, Brian.”

“And I wanna be happy with you, Evan. I haven't been happy with Lanai in a long time, and she hasn't been happy with me in just as long. Just gimme one month. Please, Ev.” Brian pleaded, feeling his own eyes prickling with tears. The line was silent for a minute. He could hear Evan breathing.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Ok.”

“I'll see ya then, Ev. I love you.” Brian said, feeling a gigantic burden lifting off of his shoulders.

“Love you too.” Evan spoke quietly before hanging up. Brian smiled, feeling hopeful and optimistic for the first time in weeks. He looked down as his hand, and his belly, and his thighs, still covered in drying spunk.

“Goddamn Canadians…” He cursed to himself as he trudged into the bathroom.

[originalqueenhottub]

I haven't drawn anything I have felt passionate about in YEARS I feel... and the first time since I can keep track of; that cycle has been BROKEN this year!! 🥳🥳 why is it smutt related?!?! *In my best Pee-Wee Herman voice* I DON'T KNOW! Buuuuuuuut... I will take it!

I have been feverly working on a Pegasus × OC fanfic for over a month now! And I'm finally in that stage of editing where I feel comfortable any day now to start uploading chapters...

😅 By no means am I a professional writer, but this story has been living in my head "rent free" on and off for YEARS now! Ever since I fell in love with the world of Yu-Gi-Oh! And more accurately the Anime's first major antagonist from the Duelist Kingdom Arc Pegasus J Crawford (Maximillion Pegasus)

I have done STUPID amounts of research on this non-existant man; that it definitely puts me in the "crazed fangirl" category I bet. My roommates and significant others are probably tired of my rants on the show, manga and now the card game. I wish I could STFU but this appears to be my recent autism hyperfixation that noone is safe from!

So without further ado! Here are some rough sketches of Pegasus and my OC before I make final edits 🤦‍♀️ I may apologize... But I WONT STOP!

[whoevrwhatevr]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Law & Order: SVU Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rafael Barba/Reader, Rafael Barba/You, Rafael Barba/f!reader, Rafael Barba/Female Reader Characters: Rafael Barba, Reader, You, F!reader Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, except theres accidentally a little plot, Smut, Porn, Porn with Feelings, PWP, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Getting Back Together, Daddy Kink, just a lil bit, Sex, its just smut folks Summary:

Much to your surprise, Rafael Barba is back in New York. Fuck, he still looked good.

[jolikmc-thoughts]

[Analysis] The Dehumanization of Kaede Kazeki

Man, I sure get into some weird topics, sometimes.

I recently did a deep dive into the lore of a little series by mangaka Uziga Waita called "Mai-chan's Daily Life".  Yes, that series.  If you're familiar with the series, you might be thinking… "What 'lore'?  Isn't it just gore porn?"  Well, yes.  It very much is gore porn.  However, in my recently poking around, I stumbled upon what appears to be, or could possibly be, a prequel series starring the head maid, "Kaede Kazeki". (She made that last name up.)  And, wow, it's quite the journey.

The "prequel" series is titled "In a Quagmire" and the specific story is called "Fragile".  It stars another character who would later appear in Mai-chan's Daily Life, Sayuri. ("Sayurin", in that series.)  However, instead of being a "pet" of Kaede's… she's the adult daughter of a wealthy plutocrat.  The story is more-or-less about her and her efforts to come into her own… but the real story is about Kaede, and how she affects and manipulates Sayuri.  I'll give you a run-down of the sequence of events and some thoughts, but I should warn you… this is not at all safe for work.  I hate to put this behind a "mature content" warning, but it really is necessary, given the subject matter.

Anyway.  Here's a rundown of "In a Quagmire" and some thoughts.

    Read more (LiveJournal)

[novankenn]

Cherry Pie - Eighteen -

(Master Chapter List)

Scarlet easily agreed to continue to stay with Jaune as Yang was approached by the doctor in charge of his case. Stepping away to gain some privacy, the doctor looked at his tablet, with Yang assumed contained Jaune's current medical information.

Doctor: Ms Xiao Long, I understand that I have permission to speak to you about Mr Arc's condition, as you will be acting as a proxy until his family is able to arrive. Is that correct.

Yang: Yes, it is.

Doctor: Very well. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them at any point. So firstly due to the rough penetration he suffered...

Yang: Wait, was he raped?

Doctor: Yes, his injuries are consistent with a sexual assault, and from the information provided by the young man that came with him, it is the case. Due to that insertion, he has suffered several Rectal tears, or Anal fissures.

The Doctor consulted his tablet, before continuing.

Doctor: We will be supplying him with a prescription for a cream that will help with pain, and our Dietitian will provide him with a meal plan that will help with the healing. He will need to expect some blood when he has bowel movements for the first little while. It will be a week or so for these Fissures to heal.

The Doctor once again consulted his tablet.

Doctor: Now Mr Arc has also suffered some blunt force trauma caused injuries, but these have only resulted in external bruising, though the blow to his face did result in a dislocated jaw, which we have already set. Any questions so far?

Yang: So how is he?

Doctor: Aside from the mainly superficial injuries that I have mentioned, he is physically okay, though we did prescribe him sedatives to help him rest. It is, however, his mental health that has us concerned.

Yang: Mental Health?

Doctor: Mr Arc has experienced a rather serious traumatic event. This can cause extreme paranoia, stress and depression. So we are going to suggest he stays for the next few days while we arrange our for our resident Pyschatrist and Trauma councillor to have sessions with him. Any questions?

Yang: How serious could these mental health issues become? Will he need medication? Therapy?

Doctor: We will be prescribing him a sedative to be used for a short period of time, and we do recommend that he does arrange sessions with either a trauma councillor or therapist. We can provide a listing of recommendations, and I am certain that the VPD Victim Services will reach out to him as well.

For one final time, the Doctor consulted his tablet, and after a few finger flicks, he returned his attention to Yang.

Doctor: I should also inform you that we have started him on broad spectrum antibiotic, and he will need to take it as prescribed for the next fourteen days. This is a precautionary measure to prevent the worsening of any possible exposure to a STI. If at any point he develops symptoms related to a possible STI, bring him in, and we will arrange for a more specific treatment.

Yang: How will we know what constitutes these symptoms?

Doctor: We will provide the appropriate literature on that subject. Anything else that is of concern to you?

Yang: Nothing I can think of, aside from when can he come home?

Doctor: Two days. If you have any further questions or concerns, feel free to speak to the nurse's station and one of our residents will come an address them.

[ladypriere]

Get ready for the REAL horror, kids

(i am not responsible for any trauma or hurt feelings as a result of this video. i put a warning at the beginning for a reason 😊)

[reasoningrunningrampant]

I wanna start by showing off the one byler fic I have that doesn't have any smut, but it has fluff and angst galore

[sinnohsiblings]

The Aftermath

TLDR: Something happened between Gal and Zeph as a result of poor choices the night before. Zephyr has left to who knows where. This takes place the morning directly after the gala so asks answered that took place after the gala also took place after this. The askbox is open! (Available asks open cast updated) Content warning: Suggestive content under the cut. (Nothing explicit said, but heavily implied)

Last night had been awful...The humiliation the fighting...the drama and gossip that will spread about the absolute disaster it was. Thank creation that her father called the party off early and that her mother was there to reign him in after the mess with Shae. Luckily her friends managed to snatch some of the beverages meant to serve the party and the group retraited to Galadriel's personal quarters to have their own little party with the one of lightweight fairy types of the group tapping out early after 3 glasses. But while Xavier drunkily slept with his head on Yvette's app. Zephyr managed to keep pace with Galadriel, Diva and Yvette. After several hours of the group of friends drinking to forget the night it was inpossible to say if any of them would remember that night. Several hours later rays of light danced through Galadriels bedroom as the void simulated sunrize through her crystaline windows. Like all other mornings in her territory the void was still and for the most part silent. However, Galadriel was woken by an unfamiliar sound of someone breathing beside her her eyes fluttered open and seeing Zephyr snoozing infront of her at first she smiled and tried to go back to sleep before realization spread across her face and her eyes snapped open as she let out a blood curdling shriek jolting the Zacien awake as he looked back at her, coming to the same realization and a look of horror was soon plastered on his face as he screamed back at her in realization of what happened. "OH NO! NO NO NO! FUCKING...WE DIDN'T...I DON'T EVEN LIKE YOU LIKE- SON OF A BITCH!" Zephyr barked getting off the bed and quickly cloathing himself. "I AM SO FUCKED! WHAT WILL LORD ABBADON THINK? WHAT WILL THE CROWNEDS THINK?! THEY ARE GONNA DOCK MY BRAIDS!" "Don't freak out! Don't freak out!" Galadriel said trying to calm down the Zacien as she climed out fo the bed, "We're adults, he's not gonna care! We're friends, we got drunk, we got stupid...it was a mistake! don't freak out! Like you said we don't even like eachother like that! Calm down!" "DON'T FREAK OUT?! THIS IS SUCH A VIOLATION OF THE LEGION CODE! FRIENDS OR NOT YOU ARE MY WARD AND THIS IS SUCH A VIOLATION OF OUR CODE OF CONDUCT WHILE ON DUTY!" The Zacien started pacing back and fourth with his tail thrashing with his anxiety "But you weren't on duty! You were a guest! You were with friends! You're not gonna be in trouble!" "The legion isn't gonna see it that way! We are expected to be bound by our duties! Our code of honor is everything! And I basically broke rule number one! That means I can't be your Zacien...i've got to go." The zacien huffed and quickly made his way to the door. "WHAT?! No wait you don't have to leave! Zephyr wait! You aren't gonna get fired for this! Lets just talk it out we can work it out." Galadriel said a bit paniced as Zephyr whipped around "You don't get it! This code is my whole being an I just violated it, I need to go because I have failed in my position! Friends or not, I broke pack law, and I need....I DON'T KNOW WHAT I NEED EXCEPT I DON'T KNOW SPACE TO PROCESS?! For eons I have been understanding of your emotions and beliefs. Understand mine, I need to go...we- I've fucked up..." He sighed before vanishing past the door leaving Galadriel standing in her room. Galadriel (and Zephyr???) are open for asks. The askbox is open.

[the-real-google]

For every note this gets I'll personally kill a transphobe with my bare hands

[fanficsforfun]

Um, what? Not to claim that my blog wouldn't have mature content but it doesn't break the rules or anything (unless the rules have changed and I haven't heard about it, idk)

[nekropsii]

Meat!Roxy was crazy because the evidence for Roxy being Transfeminine - not Trans generally, Transfeminine SPECIFICALLY - has been there since her introduction. And the reading of her being Transfeminine has been enhancing her character since… You know, her introduction.

Roxy being a Trans Girl has been one of the most widely accepted Transfem headcanons I’ve ever seen. It was very difficult to deny it, and even harder to deny the power that a Transfeminine reading for both Kanaya and Roxy gave to the scene where Roxy gives her the Matriorb she took so much time and effort to steal from Nothingness.

The ability to be a mother handed to someone grieving their literal biological inability to have it… It’s powerful. It’s even more powerful if this is someone who knows where that pain is coming from intimately, and the alleviation of that dysphoria brings nothing but better things to the world at such a large scale. From one Trans Girl to another - here is the ability to be a mother, and to use that motherhood to help bring your entire race back from extinction. With the Transfem reading, this scene has brought me to actual tears. It enhances it so much.

So, like, what was the point of all that they did in the Meat Route? It wasn’t for greater character development, most everyone agrees it only did bad things for Roxy’s character. Spite? Is that it?

[whoevrwhatevr]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Law & Order: SVU Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Rafael Barba & Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. & Amanda Rollins, Rafael Barba & Olivia Benson, Rafael Barba & Rita Calhoun Characters: Rafael Barba, Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Olivia Benson, Odafin "Fin" Tutuola, Amanda Rollins, Rita Calhoun, Mike Dodds Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Getting Together, Introspection, Character Study, Mental Health Issues, Idiots in Love, Kindred Spirits, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Bisexual Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Sweet Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Drunken Shenanigans, First Kiss, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pre-Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, Fix-It of Sorts, Pining, Mutual Pining, Anal Sex, First Time, Oral Sex, Drunk Rafael Barba, Hurt Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Crisis of Faith, Episode: s17e17 Manhattan Transfer, Episode: s17e22 Intersecting Lives, Episode: s17e23 Heartfelt Passages, Sad Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. Summary:

Sonny's starting to think he might have gotten more than he ever bargained for at SVU...in more ways than one.

[novankenn]

Cherry Pie - Seventeen -

(Master Chapter List)

Yang had been worried about Jaune, seeing as he wasn't home before her shift finished, like he normally was. But that was before she received a call from his mother, literally begging her to go to Vale General to be with Jaune. That terrified Yang to hear through his mom that Jaune had been attacked.

Jaune had been her rock almost six months ago, in a time before she had met Blake. It had been a rough patch for her. The long-term relationship she had been in falling apart. But Jaune had been there, a shoulder to cry on, a warm body to hold. Now it was her turn, to be his rock.

Jaune's mother Jasmine hadn't given Yang any details, she just asked Yang to go and be with Jaune. To watch over him until she could get to Vale. Yang didn't hesitate, and was out the door even before Jasmine could thank her.

The ER room was fairly quiet, when Yang arrived, so she just went straight to the reception desk, to inquire about Jaune. There was a little back and forth until the Receptionist was able to locate Jaune in her system and confirm Yang's identity, as there was a note from Jaune's mother giving Yang permission to speak to the medical staff on her behalf.

Thanking the receptionist, Yang made her way to the indicated room, only to find that Jaune was not alone. A young man was sitting in the room watching Jaune from a chair near the door. He looked familiar, by Yang wasn't sure where she had seen him.

Yang: Who are you, and why are you in here?

Scarlet: Hey Yang.

Yang: How...? Scarlet?

Scarlet: How did you find out Jaune was here? Are you his emergency contact?

Yang: His mom called me, and told me to get my ass down here. What happened? Was he jumped?

Scarlet: Yes, among other things.

Yang: What does that mean?

Scarlet: I'm not sure... ah, fuck it. He was attacked and violated. Me and some of the guys from the Oyster stop it before it went too far, but not before... he's not in a good place, Yang.

Yang: Shit. Did?

Scarlet: They did, but the VPD have them now. I spoke with one of the officers, and they'll be by in the morning to see if Jaune's up to giving a statement.

Yang: Fuck! I knew something like this... well not this... but something would... I should have...

Scarlet: Yang. Stop.

Yang: But...

Scarlet: The only people to blame are the fuckers that did this to Jaune. No one else, and you being mad, isn't going to help him. Like I said, he's in a bad place.

Yang: I'm...

Scarlet: You don't have to apologize. I understand, and I feel it too. Jaune's too nice of a guy to have to suffer through shit like this, and I ask myself why didn't I walk with him to the taxi stand. Been asking myself that all night... but it changes nothing.

Yang: It would have stopped...

Scarlet: Maybe it would have. But this still happened, so all the "what if's" in the world don't change any of it.

Yang: Ah... argh... Have you talked to the doctor?

Scarlet: No.

Yang: Why? You're here.

Scarlet: I'm not family, nor am I a family representative. So they can't and won't tell me what's going on, aside from that he's been treated and now needs to rest.

[munsonslove]

Polaroids

(18+ only)

summary: As Eddie settles in to enjoy some "alone time", he finds a little present you left behind for him.

wordcount: 2.4k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, smut, friends to lovers (kinda), male masturbation

a/n: sorry i haven’t posted in so long life is just one thing after the fucking other ya know? i’m gonna try to find the motivation to write more, thank you all for sticking with me <3

With a soft click, the garage sale lamp on Eddie’s bedside table flickers to life, illuminating his messy roomy in a dim flickering glow. It’s not the most efficient light source, but it’ll suffice for the nighttime activities he has planned.

Although he feels a small amount of shame toward the way that he’s undeniably objectifying one of his best friends, he can’t help the effect that you have on him. It was bad enough that you were jaw-droppingly beautiful, funny, kind, and into all the same stuff as he was. But to make matters worse, on top of all that you were a damn tease. 

You were over earlier that day, showing up unexpectedly at his door, strutting into his domain without even knocking first. He was ready to yell out his half-hearted complaints concerning privacy before he realized it was you. At which point he shot straight up into a sitting position and did a quick once over of his floor to make sure he didn’t have anything embarrassing laying about.

Wayne had let you in, and Eddie hadn’t heard due to the blasting volume of his radio. After the initial shock of you standing before him in the flesh (when merely seconds before he was imagining your flesh under very different circumstances) he noticed the dampness of your hair and the way your shirt clung to your body, accentuating the tempting softness he wished to leave his handprints all over. You told him about your day- how you had gone to the lake with some of your friends, and how you can’t go home without showering first because you were supposed to be out “studying”.

While explaining the reason behind your impromptu visit, you kicked off your sandals and began brazenly rifling through his dresser drawers for clothes to steal, finding an old Judas Priest t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Before he can even begin to ask how you plan to go home in a pair of men’s boxers and not be questioned, he’s being dragged by his sleeve out of his room over to the bathroom door, before having it shut in his exasperated face (much to the amusement of his uncle, who at this point was accustomed to your antics). He waited, and a moment later you cracked open the door just enough to slip your arm outside, handing him your discarded clothes reeking of dirty lake water.

You knew the washing machine hookup was busted. He knew you knew, and he knew that you knew he would drive to the laundromat without complaint as long as you asked him in that sweet voice of yours. After taking the bundle of clothes from you (and blushing at the matching set of bra and panties), he grabbed his keys and walked out the door- the sound of water running making his mind wander to the way you were naked in his trailer right now, soaping yourself up to eventually change into his clothes and wait for him in his room.

When Eddie returned home eight quarters poorer, the shower was turned off and there was muted music playing from behind his closed door. He entered to find you lazily laid on your stomach as you flipped through his copy of Lord of the Rings with your knees bent and feet swinging in the air behind you. You ignored his presence, but Eddie was well aware that you were only doing so because you loved to mess with him. So, in retaliation, he chucked each article of clothing onto you one by one- your bra landing on top of your head and blocking your view of the book.

You laughed on your way out, and it sounded so beautiful that he ended up missing the teasing remark you must have made that caused you to shoot a wink in his direction.

The bathroom door opened and closed, signaling that you were once again undressing yourself not ten feet from where Eddie was standing. This thought left behind a goofy smile on his face- which dropped like a rock in water when his eyes roamed over the items on top of his dresser.

There sat a magazine from a growing collection he had started at age sixteen- one of his favorite and most used additions. Inside was a page dog-eared, and if flipped open the reader would be greeted by the sight of a model who looked suspiciously like the girl currently changing in the other room. Same skin tone, hair color and style, eye color, body shape, even similar facial features. And just to further take away any plausible deniability, the adjacent page featured a polaroid of you laughing in the back of Eddie’s van taped over the article.

Surely if he had been found out you would have said something, right? But there was no way you didn’t see it when you were searching for something to wear. Thankfully everything seemed normal, so most likely you noticed the cover and decided to let it be and not investigate further. To air on the safe side, the magazine ended up shoved between the mattress and box spring, hidden out of sight.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. You came back in your original outfit and spent a couple more hours hanging out before hitching a ride home with Wayne when he had to leave for his shift at the plant. After the hum of the engine faded away, not much time passed before Eddie made up his mind to indulge in his most guilty pleasure.

The bed creaks as he eases himself off of it, harshly breaking the quiet peacefulness of the night. After lifting the mattress, he snatches the evidence that was hidden away only a short while ago. Then, he flops back down into a lying position before rolling onto his side and propping his head up with his left hand. Setting the magazine down, he unties the drawstring of his sweatpants, his cock already hardening in anticipation of what his body knows is to come. His fingertip trails along the edge of the cover, finding the dog-eared corner. Not wasting any more time, he turns to that page.

What he sees nearly stops his heart.

The polaroid of you laughing was still there- he can see a sliver of it peeking out from the side. However, freshly taped over it was a new picture. One obviously taken earlier that evening.

Eddie only realizes he’s stopped breathing when his chest starts to hurt, and quickly gasps for air as he frantically sits up, causing the pornography to fall to the floor. All the blood in his head rushes lower, need pulsing deep within his lower abdomen. There’s no way he saw what he thinks he saw, but there’s also no way he could mistake it.

Looking over to the shelf revealed that the camera was indeed no longer where he had last left it. In fact, it was closer than before- innocently placed on Eddie’s nightstand right next to a roll of scotch-tape.  With his erection now uncomfortably straining against fabric and begging to be released from the confines of his pants, he picks the magazine back up from where it had landed with shaky hands.

Right there, taped dead center of the page, was a picture of you. Your face deceivingly demure with a glint of lust in your eyes and your lower lip bitten between your teeth, as you lay on the very same bed Eddie sits on currently. Hair strewn about, a halo behind your head, fitting for the image of an angel he was entranced by.

The shirt- his shirt- that you were wearing was raised above your clavicle, and the arm not holding the camera was across your rib cage. It perfectly and strategically lifted your breasts and pressed them together, showcasing your perky nipples and the soft supple flesh that Eddie had only ever seen before in his dreams.

He can’t believe it- can’t believe that you… but it’s not like you could have done this by mistake. You wanted him to find this, and you wanted him to find it while he was already preparing to touch himself to the thought of you.

Ripping the photo from the page and tossing the magazine to the side (he won’t need the model’s help this time) he lays down on his back and holds it with two hands as if it were the most fragile thing in the world. You stare back at him, unblinking and still but no less beautiful than ever. He feels like a pervert. But again, the only reason he even had this picture was because you wanted him to have it. So, pushing away any lingering guilt, he starts to palm at his crotch over his sweats.

Unsurprisingly, he’s already hard. So much so that it aches, and when he finally gives in the moan that he’s unable to hold back comes out broken and desperate. He wants to wait, to build up anticipation and tease himself. He knows that would make the release so much more sweet, but Eddie never claimed to be a beacon of self control.

The bed creaks more in his attempts to pull down his pants one handed- unwilling to tear his gaze away from you for even a second- and his legs do the rest of the work as they kick away the offending garment. His cock springs up to his naval, the cool air of the bedroom contrasting his heated skin nicely as precum dribbles onto his stomach. With a hurried lick to his palm for lubrication, he wraps his hand around the base of his length in a firm grip. He already knows for a fact that he won’t last long. Squeezing just enough that his thumb barely touches his fingers, he runs his fist up his shaft and back down, releasing a deep guttural groan that leaves him thanking god he had the trailer to himself tonight. 

Due to the way your head is angled down so that you can stare up at the lens sultrily through your eyelashes (combined with the bunched up fabric of the shirt and how strands of your hair fall over the side of your face) only a sliver of your collarbone is visible. Still, this doesn’t stop Eddie from beginning his fantasy the way he always does- imagining what it would be like to bury his nose in the junction between your shoulder and neck and lightly kiss there, gentle enough so you start to whine about him teasing you. Since he could never say no to you, this would quickly evolve into licking, sucking, and biting. The saltiness of your sweat combined with the bitterness of your perfume would somehow still be the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, he just knows it.

The next bullet point in his fantasies is usually removing your top. And now thanks to this little gift, his imagination doesn’t have to work as hard. He thinks about the way you would shiver underneath him while he lightly ran his touch up your sides, and how soft your skin would feel under the calloused tips of his fingers. Once your shirt was fully off, he knows he realistically wouldn’t be able to resist taking your breasts in each hand, positioning his hold so that the pads of his thumbs could graze over your nipples and cause them to harden before his very eyes.

His pace grows faster, his warm hand bringing him close to the edge despite the fact that he hadn’t even gotten around to thinking about how much warmer and wetter your pussy would be around him. He needs to hurry this along, his body is begging to fall over that cliff and he doesn’t have the strength to deny it any longer. Skipping ahead, he thinks about your ankles resting on his shoulders as he pressed the head of his weeping cock at your clenched entrance. Every time you accidentally moaned in a way that could be misconstrued as sexual while stretching, or groaned in frustration when something didn’t go your way- Eddie stored those sounds away in his mind for this exact moment. He can almost hear the sweet noises you would make when he finally breached that threshold and pushed inside of you.

He can’t take it any more. His fist stops pumping halfway down his shaft and he tightens his grip, but it does nothing to stop his climax from washing over him. It floods throughout his entire body, and is without a doubt the best orgasm he’s ever had. As he’s working himself through it- unabashedly letting loose moans of pure ecstasy in the privacy he’s been granted- he pictures what your face would look like as you came. Your eyes rolling back into your head as your mouth falls open, your eyelashes fluttering as you try and fail to keep your gaze on him. How would his name fall from your lips? Would it be soft and breathy, or loud and rough? Either way he would feel impossibly lucky that he got to be the one to take you there.

Coming back down from his high, he realizes that at some point he had closed his own eyes and was now clutching the picture of you to his heart. With a deep inhale, he lets out a sigh as he looks down at the mess he’s made. His seed spilled onto his torso, with some of it landing on the hem of his band tee that was hastily pushed up in a failed attempt to keep it clean.

Now sitting, he carefully places the polaroid down on his bedside table before taking a balled up paper towel from lunch earlier and using it to clean up as much of the cum as he can. Once done, he tosses it back on the table with his mind racing a mile a minute and redresses. With his pants back on, he nearly trips over his feet as he rushes to the phone, picking it up and letting muscle memory dial your number. It only rings two times before he hears your voice.

“Hello?” you answer, a slight hint of smugness in your tone like you were expecting this call.

“Get ready,” he tells you, already bent over and lacing up his sneakers. “I’m picking you up.”