#we got more work done in an hour than we did in the past month

[totally-original-artist]

No group of people are more motivated than college students who collectively forgot an assignment is due on monday (it is sunday)

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[st4rymoon]

✭ 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ✭

𝟏𝟖+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 | 𝐀𝐜𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 | 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a long read btw, arguing, impact play, academic rivals, slow burn, rough sex, hate sex, language, p in v, make out sesh, unprotected sex, annoying Miguel, reader has some anger issues on the low, breath play, teasing, sexual tension, semi-mean dom, after care

・Part two! Part Three!

“WHAT?” You yelled, both your professor and Miguel looking at you in shock after your professor asked you for a one on one with the both of you.

You could scoff at the way Miguel’s lips curled up into a satisfied smile “Well you and Miguel are my best students, so it would only make sense for the both of you to do a presentation together. I can only imagine the things the both of you will come up with!” Your annoyingly sweet professor clapped.

“ wouldn’t it be better if both of us did our own? We coul-“ You tried to negotiate “Ah ah! I said group project! Now Miguel, do you have anything to say about this? Any complaints like this one over here?”

You sighed as Miguel spoke “Nope, I’d be happy to work with someone in the same range as me” he cockily spoke “Very funny, now since we’ve got this all sorted, go and talk” she smiled, shooing you and Miguel out of the classroom.

You scoffed as you pushed past Miguel “Aww come on sweetheart, you hate me that much?” He cooed following close behind you.

“Shut it” you huffed. Getting paired with Miguel was possibly the worst thing to happen since your high school prom. Miguel was the bane of your existence since the first year of college.

Of course, his good looks and brains were attractive but sooner or later you realized he was going to be a pain in your ass for the next few months of class. You met him in your first biology class, everything was going well until the first exam of the class.

Your professor said the class average was low B’s and high C’s but out of the whole class, two people got perfect scores. Could you guess who the two were?

You and Miguel.

Both of you looked at each other from across the class with the same look in your eyes saying ‘Someone beat me?’. Of course, you both got the same 100% grade but both of you were so used to being the only one on top of the class that this was more than just a score. But your egos.

You both were fully aware to not be in each other's way, only seeing each other when studying at the same place or in class. All was going well for the next 2 exams, but the 3rd one came and you couldn’t believe it.

You got a 98% and Miguel has a perfect 100%. You could see him smile at the results and you hated the professor right now. Why the hell would he show the class? It’s embarrassing, to say the least.

Miguel gave you a wink as you looked his way ever so slightly. Bursting out of the class, you could feel him behind you “2 points down” he chuckled. You wish you would’ve punched him.

And ever since then, he’s made it his life mission to ruin your day. You never got anything other than 100% again, you busted your ass studying just so he couldn’t rub it in.

“I’ll make sure you can’t get us two points down” Miguel hummed as he kept up at your pace. You could feel your blood boiling, god he’s such an asshole. “I’ll email you if I need help” you scoffed.

“Can I get your number? I won’t get the email since my inbox is always spamming” Miguel lied with a smile “fine” you muttered out your number and walked off before he could stop you.

‘Real classy, I wasn’t done talking’ popped up on your screen “Well I am” you messaged back. You were well aware it was Miguel and you didn’t need him to piss you off more than usual.

The second you stepped into your apartment you let out a relieved sigh. Oh, how you missed this place in these insufferable hours. You put on some comfy panties and an oversized hoodie.

You were laid in your living room, soft carpet under you as you finished up some of the slides for your presentation. The knock at your door was the last thing you needed, you groaned in agony as you hated the thought of getting up from your warm spot.

The knocking grew and so did your patience’s “IM COMING!” You yelled. You pulled the door open and lo and behold, Miguel. “For fuck sake man” you whined.

“Glad to see you too!” He smiled as he pushed past you with books in hand. Miguel was born with the talent of hiding his emotions, that talent was most useful here.

He took a deep breath as you opened the door. Your pretty thighs glowing under the baggy hoodie, hair a slight mess and the satisfying look of anger on your face could’ve made him harm.

“Excuse you” you hissed.

He plotted down next to your things and got straight to work. You stood in shock, did he just walk in like this was his house? “Well go ahead and get comfortable” you mocked as you slammed the door in annoyance.

“I am” he sighed as he stretched and leaned onto your couch.

The both of you bickered and sneered at each other the whole time you both worked but even then, the quality was always top-notch.

He didn’t like the way you formatted the information and you didn’t like how he took up a whole slide for a few sentences but both of you compromised. After a few hours, things were less tense, and both of you got used to each other.

“So what do you plan on doing with your major?” You asked, legs crossed and some candy in your mouth as you questioned him “Biochemist” he nodded “It’s always been a passion of mine”

“You sure do have the brains for it” you chuckled. “You don’t with the 98%” he teased. You rolled your eyes, your mood now soured as you remembered his shenanigans.

“Don’t start” you scoff as you get up to get some drinks “Hey hey I’m joking” he laughs, his hand stopping you from leaving as he holds your wrist “I know Sherlock, I’m going to get some drinks for us” you mutter with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he laughed awkwardly, his eyes watching as you grabbed two glasses of water. “So what about you?” Miguel asked “What are you doing with a chemistry major”

“Probably chemical engineering, I’m not sure yet” You shrugged as you handed him the cup. He nodded and watched you sit next to him. Miguel scooted a little closer making you stiffen, sure he was a pain in the ass but he’s sadly one of the most gorgeous guys you’ve seen.

You tried to ignore your thoughts each time he’d stretch and groan, his moans making you think about how he’d sound if it were from pleasure. He’d be vocal you thought.

“Let’s watch something on the TV” you awkwardly smiled as you grabbed the remote and turned on your TV, you laid on your stomach, forgetting you only had panties and a hoodie.

Miguel’s eyes watched you kick your feet up, your glowy legs looking perfect as you looked through whatever you were putting on.

He noticed the pink panties you had on, his tongue instinctively licking his bottom lip as he thought about how good you’d look on top of him. He can imagine it, tits in his face and pussy sleeving his cock as he fucked you full.

He was going to give himself a boner if he kept it up. He focused his eyes on the screen and sighed in relief as you sat back up. You put on your favorite show and sat next to Miguel “We’re almost done with the assignment which is good, how about a few more minutes of break and we get back to work?” You smiled. “Sure”

You felt his hand move behind you, his arm resting above the couch as he let out yet again another ‘stretch’ while his eyes looked at you through his peripheral, you chuckled. How cliche.

You smiled as you decided to make your cliche move. It was obvious there was tension between you two, whether that be anger or sexual, it didn’t matter. “Let me get more gummies” you hummed as you turned to the table beside you and arched your back slightly, an audible moan coming from behind you as your ass was on perfect display.

You sat back beside him, gummies in hand and an innocent look on your face as you offered him some. He scoffed, shaking his head and looking back at the TV. Your eyes widened as you noticed the thick bulge straining against his pants.

“Eyes up” Miguel cockily cooed as he watched your eyes closely. “I- I wasn’t-“You made a pathetic attempt to save yourself but he cut you off “Uh huh uh huh, I know” he mocked.

He smiled down at you with accomplishment, he finally made you shut up for once. “Not going to give me a snarky comeback?” He cooed. “Shut up already God, stop it” you hissed, your eyes rolling as you moved away from him.

“No no” Miguel’s voice made you shiver as his hand held your thigh “I’m playing” he pouted as he glared down at you. You could punch him right but instead, you did something you thought you’d never do.

You pushed him on the couch and slammed your lips on his. Miguel’s hands immediately wrapped around your waist, a loud moan spilling into your mouth as he finally tasted you.

It seemed like Miguel was waiting for you to do this, his hands ran up your thighs hungrily before he flipped you onto your back. You gasped as he spread your legs around his waist.

His behemoth of a body spread your legs wide as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You tangled your fingers into his hair as both of you hungrily kissed each other.

The kisses were messy and rough, teeth nipping at skin and tongues lapping at each other like two animals in heat. None of you even said a word, just heavy breaths, moans, and pure lust.

Suddenly Miguel pulled back from your lips, his eyes glaring into yours as he hovered above you. You could feel yourself getting ready for some snarky comment as you watched his lips curve into a smile.

“You kissed me first”

You groaned as you pushed him off, his hands still on your hips as he flipped you back onto his lap “hey I’m not complaining, It’s just funny since I piss you of so much” he sighed. His palm moved up to your jaw, face brushing against his hand as you took in his warmth.

He watched you lean into his palm like a cat, his body heating up as he realized how small you look in his lap. Your thighs small compared to his but still plump and pretty.

“Can I kiss you again” you shyly asked slightly afraid that he’s reject. “You don’t have to ask me, just do it” Miguel hummed as he pulled you into a kiss.

The kisses were now more sensual and soft, both of you now grinding into each other. His hand curled onto the back of your neck; the other palm pinned behind your spine.

You were glued onto his chest as Miguel’s warmth filled your senses. You’ve never been so warm in your life, the feeling making you tingly as he held you as close as possible. It felt like nothing in the world could hurt you, you felt safe.

“Please” you whispered onto his lips. He tried to not make you mad but he loved seeing you angry “Please what?” He taunts, his lips hovering over your jaw and neck but never touching you.

“Mig don’t tease” you whined as you hit his chest lightly “I’m not, I just don’t know what you’re saying please for” his arms clinging around your waist as he takes in your sweet scent.

You decided to play your games “I want you inside me mig, want to show you how much I need you” you cooed, your hand running down his abdomen and stopping just above his bulge. His breath hitched at your words, he didn’t know if you were fucking with him or not.

“Oh yeah?” Miguel watched you with focused eyes, his hands running up the sides of your thighs and squeezing your ass “You want me to fuck some manners into you? That loud fucking mouth of yours is always pissing me off” he cooed.

Loud fucking mouth? Your hand went up to smack his face in anger but he caught your wrist before you could “Don’t even try it muñeca.” He sternly said “You won’t like what comes with that”

You angrily kissed him as he pressed you flush against his aching cock, his hands pull the baggy hoodie off your body leaving you in your matching panties and bra.

“Fuck” he whispered, hands on your waist as he took in the view he’s been dreaming of since the day he met you. The amount of times he’d imagine fucking your mouth until you shut up was concerning.

You pulled his shirt off in need, throwing it behind you as you ran your hands up his thick muscular chest. He hummed at your soft hands running up his skin.

“Sit up for me?” He mumbled against your skin as he kicked off his sweats. He smiled at how obediently you did as he said “You look prettier when you do as I say” Miguel mocked.

You could care less about his words as his calloused hands pulled your panties off in need “Just shut up and fuck me” you panted. Miguel smiled as he felt your lips pepper all over his jaw and onto his lips, he could see you were just as eager for him as he was for you.

“Beg” he blurted. You ignored him as you rubbed his cock between your folds, both of you letting out moans as you felt each other's warmth. Miguel seethed, arms pinning you up to his chest “Listen”

You hated that you got turned on by the fact that he now had you restricted with just one hand as the other held your jaw up “you want the guy you despise to fuck you? You tell me you hate me every time you see me but look so eager to fuck me”

You were tired of his teasing, you let out a desperate whine, you could see his cock spring up and his tip leaking precum. But like always, Miguel likes to rile you up.

“Beg” he repeated. “Please mig please, just stop teasing ok” you cried. “All you needed to listen to was this?” He purred, hands moving onto your hips as he thrusts into you.

Miguel let out a gruntled moan as he felt your warm wet walls hug him tight, his head falling back onto the couch as he finally felt your pussy squeeze him.

He watched your eyes squeeze shut while you let out the prettiest moans “f- fuck!” You cried, the stretch making you clench even tighter around him as he held you down to his lap.

His cock was fully buried inside you in one go, he’s the biggest you’ve had in every way. It was overwhelming feeling how full you were, you could feel his curves and the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix.

“Breath chula, r- relax” he sighed. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded, you took a deep breath allowing you to make it easier for him to move. “That’s it” he hummed onto your shoulder.

It only took Miguel a few seconds for him to start fucking you onto his lap, your body shaping into his hands, allowing him to use your pussy like a flesh light.

“O- Mig mi-“ you whined out, you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. Your whole body was tingling in pleasure as he rammed into you with pure force. Maybe you did piss him off a lot.

“What? You c- can’t take it? Such a big fucking mouth but can’t take my dick?” He seethed. You let out a pathetic whine at his words, your mind completely fogged in pleasure as you took all of him.

Miguel’s eyes couldn’t leave your pussy, his eyebrows scrunched and his mouth agar as he watched your pussy struggling to take his size. He hissed as you pushed him onto the couch, using his shoulders for support as you bounced onto his lap.

Your pretty moans filled his ears as you took control. Miguel let you take control for a bit, he loved watching how eager you rode him. Your body bounces on his lap, wet sounds of skin slapping echoing into the room.

“Making such a fucking mess” he huffed with a smile on his face, although he was loving this, he wanted to see you completely vulnerable. He thought maybe he was a little sick for wanting to see someone who hated him so much completely ruined under him but he loved it.

You gasped as Miguel lifted you onto the ground, your back hit the soft carpet under you as he stayed buried inside you. “Gotta fuck that stupid little attitude out honey, always disrespecting me. You’re the only one who tries to push my buttons. I love it” he cooed.

Miguel’s calloused hands bend your legs to the side, giving him full access to your tight cunt. “Go- god shi- fuck!” Miguel panted, he was a complete fucking mess.

Sure Miguel’s fucked a few people in his life, but he had no idea if it was just the thought of fucking the life out of you or how perfect your body was for him. He convinced himself it was both.

You clawed and scratched at his chest, your eyes full of tears as he brutally pounded into your “m- Mig I-“You were even more fucked out than him. How couldn’t you?

You had no clue where he got his stamina from, it felt like he’d been fucking you for hours. “Can’t believe you tried to slap me, should I return the favor?” Miguel hissed.

You nodded to his surprise “Please” you whined. “You want me to hit you?” He was surprised by your plead. He knew you’d be a freak in the sheets but you were always so aggressive with him that he expected you to hit him for even suggesting it.

“You’re always a pain in my ass but you just want to be taken care of huh?… What? You need me to pound your pretty pussy out for you to treat me with some respect?”

You nodded eagerly, if you were being honest you couldn’t even take in his words. Your pussy clenched and throbbed around his fat cock in agony but you were taken by surprise when a slap landed on your face “Use your words” he hissed.

Almost immediately you cried “Yes yes! Miguel please I nee- need it, f- fuck ah!”

Miguel chuckled, his hips angled a bit higher which allowed him to hit the perfect stop. His hand flew around your throat, his hips pounding you onto the floor as he let out animalistic moans.

“M- Mig- ah fff- fuckk!” You cried. The restriction of your breathing mixed with his rough pounds caused orgasm hit you hard as your pussy throbbed around him, the tip of his cock nudging at your sweet spot continuously.

Miguel’s eyes rolled back as he felt your nails claw at his arms, your small hand wrapped around his wrist as he fucked you balls deep. His cock plunged into your messy cunt as his balls slapped onto you. “That’s I- that’s-“ he hissed.

He thought about pulling out for both of your sakes but he’d rather just buy you a plan B. “C- can I- inside?” He seethed his eyes burning into yours as you bounced to his thrusts.

You couldn’t get a word out but your legs wrapping around his waist and your nails digging into his back to pull him closer gave him the answer. His lips crashed onto yours as he spilled inside you, his moans spilling into your mouth as his fingers dug into your hips.

He’s never had an orgasm that hard, he was sweating and out of breath as he stilled inside you. The both of you cling onto each other in fear of either of you leaving but that was on the last of your minds.

Miguel lay beside you, his arms pulling you into his as he pressed a kiss onto your forehead. “Was I too rough?” He questioned with concern as he now fully took in how fucked out you looked. “No, it was perfect” you weakly muttered as you nuzzled into his chest.

Miguel sighed in relief as your sweaty body was pinned into his. “Where’s your bedroom?” He hummed as he began to lift you into his arms “left” you sighed as he carried you into your bedroom.

“Let me clean us up and then we can rest yeah? Unless you want me to leav-“

You cut him off before he couldn’t finish “Don’t leave. Please?.” You hummed a bit worried you sounded a little pathetic.

“Wasn’t planning on it love”

[likeumeanit9497]

just like that | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

based on this request :))

summary: after dating for four months without having sex, y/n finally decides that she's ready to take matt for a ride

warnings: smut; established relationship; unprotected p in v; oral (fem receiving); riding; mentions of questionable consent (NOT with matt dw); dirty talk; 18+

notes: damn i completely forgot about this im so sorry:/ i've just been so busy over the past week or so it completely went under the radar. def not my best work (i wrote it all today), but i wanted to get it up because i'm going on a trip through europe for 6 (SIX???!!?!?!) weeks and will probably not be able to post much when im there. anyways i hope u all enjoy!!

p.s. working on one more fic that i would LOVE to post before i leave tomorrow, if not it might be a while before im able to write again :/ it's gonna be a good one for the matt girlies though so keep ur eyes peeled ;)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

“Do you want anything from the kitchen baby?” Matt’s soft voice in my ear pulled me from the lull I was in, curled up beside him on the couch watching a movie. My drooping eyes fluttered open and I couldn’t help but smile once I came face-to-face with my beautiful boyfriend. The late-August sun was setting, and it shone through the living room windows in just the way that made Matt’s gorgeous blue eyes almost transparent; a harsh contrast to his dark eyelashes and tidy beard. He was looking at me with such unclouded care, the way he always did, and it never failed to make my heart flutter.

Matt and I had met on social media about six months ago, and started dating just two months after that. Our earliest conversations online had consisted of occasionally discussing our shared interest in pretty embarrassing hobbies — playing Minecraft, journaling, and watching rom-coms to name a few — but those occasional conversations evolved into staying up all night messaging each other, multiple-hour long Facetime calls, and eventually meeting at a restaurant for our first date.

Although it hadn’t been long since we started dating, Matt’s soul was one that I felt like I’ve known all my life. Never before had I felt more at home around another person than I did once I met him, and his presence in my life gave it a new level of stability that didn’t exist before. I had dated a guy in high school for almost two years, but the quality in the time spent with Matt versus him was incomparable. I was sure that Matt was the person that I was meant to be with, and everyday he did something new to prove that to be true without even trying.

Another thing that I loved so much about Matt was that, even after months of dating, he hasn’t once pushed me to have sex with him. In one of our early conversations, I had told him that my ex had always made me feel bad when I would turn down sex with him. While him and I did have sex a few times during our relationship, I had since come to terms with the fact that I really was just doing it to make him happy. Once Matt got over his immediate anger for me, he had sat me down and told me that he could wait forever, but that he won’t have sex with me unless I tell him I’m ready.

That was months ago, and still, he has kept his promise. While we have done plenty of other things in bed, he has always made it a point to stop everything before it gets to the point of sex. At first, I felt riddled with guilt because I felt like I should want to have sex with my boyfriend —especially one so kindhearted as Matt — but over time that guilt has fizzled out from Matt’s reassuring words and actions. He never ever put me in situations that he knew had the potential to make me uncomfortable, and wouldn’t allow me to feel bad about it either.

Lately, though, I had been feeling slightly different. While before, I would squirm at the thought of anything more happening once Matt’s hand would slip out of my panties, now I feel a slight tightening in my stomach at the idea of more. And before, I would feel a certain level of nervousness as I felt the weight of his member in my hand, where now there is a flutter in my core at the thought of that same part of him filling me up.

Never before in my life had I felt any of these feelings, and I didn’t quite know what to do with them. I was afraid of the abundance of dirty thoughts that flooded my own head constantly, and I realized that I was ready for more, but only with Matt. I had been contemplating on telling him this for the past week, but as I watched him walk back over to me on the couch in nothing but baggy grey sweats — the black ink of his tattoos hypnotizing me — my body reacted in such a way that let me know that tonight was the night.

“Here, I know you didn’t say you wanted anything but I grabbed you a water anyways. I haven’t seen you drink any yet today and you-” I cut Matt’s rambling off by climbing on top of his lap as soon as he was back on the couch; wrapping my arms around his neck and planting a deep kiss to his pink lips. He responded with a soft hum against my lips before wrapping his own arms around the small of my back. I opened my mouth slightly before pressing it against his again and moving them in a slow but passionate rhythm. Matt quickly followed suit, slipping his tongue through my parted lips before using it to explore my mouth. I fluttered my eyes open for a brief moment and caught a glimpse of Matt’s most beautiful features up close — lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, straight eyebrows — and released a satisfied sigh against his mouth.

I ran my hands through his soft brown hair, tugging slightly at the ends and eliciting a soft gasp from him as I felt my body flood with arousal. His hands travelled up and down my back, his firm yet somehow delicate touch a comfort that eased my nerves. From my place on his lap, I could feel a growing hardness against my ass. This wasn’t uncommon, obviously, but in the past I usually pretended to ignore it pressing against me. This time however, I rolled my hips up and down, feeling it slide against my aching core. “Baby.” Matt’s voice was barely above a whisper against my lips, but the combination of shock and arousal was still evident in its tone as he grabbed firmly onto my forearms to hold me still.

I detached my mouth from his while still keeping our faces just centimetres apart. His breath was rapid, but so was mine as we stayed like that for a moment; wild eyed and equally uncertain. Finally, I repeated my action by grinding my hips against his clothed shaft; this time watching as his eyes rolled back slightly in pleasure. “Y/n, what are you doing?” He mumbled, clearly wavering between making sure I was okay and wanting desperately for more. I continued grinding my hips against him, my mouth dropping open as I felt his shaft reach my nerves. “I want you Matt.” I whispered, and I watched as his eyes widened in shock; pupils dilated. “What do you mean?” He asked hesitantly, brushing his knuckles softly against my arms.

“I mean, I’m ready. Ready to have sex again.” I blurted out, feeling my face immediately flush in equal parts nervousness and arousal as I waited for him to respond. His face was unreadable as he clearly tried to gauge whether or not I was serious. That was confirmed once he finally spoke. “A-are you sure? I don’t want you to think just because I’m hard we have to do anything, baby.” I felt his dick twitch in between my legs as he spoke, and it shot electricity down my spine. “I know Matt, but I really am sure.” I responded, running my hands up and down his bare chest and leaving a trail of goosebumps in my path.

He continued to stare at me, his eyes travelling wildly across my face; clearly still in a state of uncertainty. I, on the other hand, was growing more and more frustrated by the moment as the heat continued to grow between my legs. “Give me your hand.” I stated, and he obliged; placing his much larger hand in my own. I guided his hand down to the waistband of my sweatpants, inside of the material, and finally slid it against my dripping wet core. Intaking a sharp breath from the contact, I watched his face as it immediately darkened once he felt my arousal coat his fingertips.

“See? I told you I’m ready,” I leaned forward slightly, bringing my lips to his exposed collarbone and kissing it wetly. “So please Matt, can you fuck me?” The room stayed silent for a beat, the only sounds being our ragged breathing, and I felt fear begin to trickle down my spine; worried that Matt might reject me. Just as I was about to retract everything I had just said, Matt’s hand snaked to the back of my head, guiding it up from his chest before crashing his lips onto mine.

I deepened the kiss immediately, feeling a mutual level of desperation like a surge of electricity between our lips that had never been there before. Matt’s hands began traveling all across my writhing body — taking his time on the curves of my ass — before planting firmly on my hips where he helped them grind against his rock hard member. Breathy, almost silent moans fell from both of our lips as our bodies slid against each other, and the deep-rooted sensation was taunting.

Matt’s hands slithered from my hips up to the bottom of my t-shirt, where he toyed with the material for a moment before detaching his lips from mine. “Can I take this off?” He asked, glazed eyes staring longingly into my own. I nodded, and without a moment’s hesitation my vision was blocked for a brief second by Matt peeling the fabric over my head and tossing it to the side. Once my vision returned, my view was of Matt’s hungry eyes glued to my bare chest.

Matt had seen my tits countless times before throughout our relationship, but at this moment it was like he was seeing them for the very first time. Mouth slightly parted, his breathing was ragged as he brought both hands to my chest and cupped my tits delicately between them; pushing them together slightly and brushing a thumb along each nipple. I hissed at the feeling, and that seemed to pull him from his trance, as his eyes immediately shot up to mine. “This okay baby?” He asked, and I nodded my head wildly.

A smirk toyed at the corners of his mouth before he attached it to my left nipple. I released short moans as he sucked and nibbled it gently, still pressing my core against his throbbing shaft. I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into a trance that I had never experienced before, and it was like my body and mind had completely separated as I mindlessly tugged desperately at the waistband of his sweats. Catching on to my gesture, Matt shifted slightly below me before using one of his hands to haphazardly pull his sweats down slightly; allowing his cock to spring up in between my legs.

I gasped at the sight before me, only now realizing its true size with it between my legs and feeling just a tinge of excited fear trying to figure out just how it was going to fit inside of me. Shaking the thought from my mind, I collected a pool of saliva in my mouth before spitting it in my hand and bringing it down to his shaft.

Running my thumb along his slit, I felt his whole body shudder below me from the contact. I began pumping my hand up and down his length; spending extra time twisting my wrist around his sensitive tip, and watched as his mouth went slack on my tits. “Mmm, keep doing it just like that baby.” He muttered against my plump skin, and I continued to work his cock in my hand while simultaneously grinding my core against its base. Just knowing that I was making him feel good was making me feel good, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head in pleasure.

After a few short moments, I felt Matt’s hands snake to the waist band of my own sweats. My eyes found his again, and I watched as they searched my face. “You’re sure you want this, Y/n?” He asked, his voice gentle but laced with a huskiness that could only be explained as pure desire. I nodded desperately once again, feeling so pathetic but not capable of giving a shit. “I’m sure baby, please.” My voice had a slight whine to it, making my frantic need even more evident.

Planting a soft kiss to my lips, he grabbed firmly onto my sweats and began peeling them off of my body. I lifted my hips up slightly to assist him in this, and once I dropped them back down, I hissed from the feeling of my bare core against his cock. “Matty, I need you right now.” I practically cried out, leaning my body forward and planting nibbles and kisses along his exposed neck. The suspense was torturous, my body only just now recognizing how badly it was craving his.

His hands cupped my ass, and he used his grip to lift me just a couple inches off of him. I felt him spread me open slightly before dragging a finger once again against my aching folds. “Mmm, so wet for me baby.” I released a breathy moan at the combination of his touch and words, and squirmed in his grasp. “I’ll help you get it in, but I want you on top. That way you can take it as slow as you need to, okay?” His voice softened as he spoke, and his hands massaged me gently causing me to physically relax. “O-okay.” I muttered, so turned on that I was willing to do just about anything he wanted me to.

Just then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips before I felt the very tip of his cock brush against my opening; causing me to gasp. “Shh, it’s okay baby. I’ll go slow.” He whispered in my ear, and I pressed my forehead into the crook of his neck in anticipation. Finally, I felt my walls begin to expand as he pressed the first few inches into me. Moaning at the sensation, I felt my whole body flush in immediate lust. As if they had a mind of their own, my hips subconsciously began lowering onto his shaft; taking more and more of him as I sunk down.

A moan fell from his lips as my walls enveloped him inch by inch, and I slowly lifted my head from his neck and straightened my body up to allow more of him to fill me up. Even though he was big and I hadn’t had a dick in me in a long time, my slick arousal allowed him to bottom out without causing me to feel any pain; only indescribable pleasure. Once every inch of him was in me, I stayed still for a moment looking down at him. His desire was plastered across every inch of his face, and it made him look impossibly beautiful. There was no fear in me in that moment, only want, and so I began riding him.

As soon as I propelled my body up and down his shaft just once, I felt a pit of arousal begin to grow in my stomach. Groaning in pleasure, I continued with my moments; holding onto his shoulders to keep my trembling body stable. “Mmm you feel so good baby.” Matt moaned out, his eyes never leaving my pinched face. After a while, my body adjusted completely to his size and I was able to increase my speed. As I slid my walls up and down his shaft, Matt gripped onto my ass with all his might, using his hands to help me maintain my speed.

Moans fell from my lips as his cock ruthlessly hit my g-spot, and I felt my lower stomach build in pressure. “Fuck.” I muttered under my breath, feeling my skin go flush from the heat of the moment. The room filled with the echo of our wet skin slapping against each other, adding to the erotic air around us. Prolonged strings of moans fell aimlessly from my lips, and as I came closer and closer to my impending climax I began struggling to maintain my movements.

Matt seemed to pick up on this, as he adjusted his hips and began pounding into me from below; his hands holding me in place where I just clung onto him for dear life. “F-fuck Matty, like that. S-so good.” I cried out, my voice choppy from his rapid movements. My brain melted into a pool of liquid as all I could think about was reaching my high that was just out of reach. “You’re taking me so good baby.” Matt groaned out as he continued driving his length into me, staring deeply into my eyes with a fogged over expression.

“I-I think I’m gonna — oh god, think I’m g-gonna cum Matt.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I dug my nails into his shoulder blades, struggling to give into this new overwhelming sensation bubbling up inside of me. At this, a guttural moan fell from his lips and he somehow increased the speed of his thrusts even more. “Want you to cum around me baby, please.” There was a desperate whine to his voice as he spoke through his shortness of breath, and it was enough for me to reach my climax. Legs shaking, I released a plethora of moans and curses as my body was hit with multiple waves of indescribable pleasure. “Good girl, feels so good honey.” Matt’s voice was soft in my ear, and it helped to bring me back to earth as my hurricane of an orgasm left my body in shambles.

I continued to bounce on Matt’s dick slowly as I attempted to regain what little composure I had before my orgasm stole it from me, but I quickly learned that all of my energy had been stripped away. My body was trembling uncontrollably, and my head was filled with a fog that made it difficult for me to stay upright. Matt caught on to this, as he planted his hands firmly on my hips, keeping me still, before reaching forward and kissing me deeply. “You tired, baby?” He asked gently, rubbing circles on my sensitive skin. Sheepishly, I nodded, and Matt didn’t hesitate before guiding me off of his lap and helping me lay down on the couch.

As soon as my head hit the soft material, I felt my body immediately begin to relax again. I watched from my place on the couch as Matt began to slowly crawl over to me, before leaning above me. “You did so good baby,” He brought his lips to my chest and began dropping soft kisses against my skin, “Now,” His mouth travelled from my chest down to my stomach, “I want you to just lay here and relax,” He continued to move his lips down my stomach to my hips, “Let me make you feel good, okay?” His face was now hovering above my swollen heat, and I couldn’t help but nod frantically, feeling a sudden need to have his mouth on me.

Matt situated his body so that he could lay down with his face still just above my core. He brought both of his hands to my folds and I flinched as he used his thumbs to spread them apart slightly; exposing my bundle of nerves to the air. My vision partially skewed by his hair flopping in front of his eyes, I watched in awe as he brought his mouth closer and closer to where I needed it the most; before immediately gasping in pleasure once I felt his warm tongue make contact with my clit.

Immediately, Matt got to work in swirling his tongue in expert circles on my overstimulated nerves. This sensation in combination with his rough beard against my inner thighs was so intense it was almost painful in the best way possible, and I was incapable of controlling the throaty moans that fell from my lips as I watched him devour me entirely. Matt then used his mouth to suck on my nerves, bringing forward yet another new sensation that drove me crazy. It felt so unbelievably good, my hands flew to his hair where I held firmly; doing everything in my power to keep him in place. “Oh yeah baby, please, just like that.” I struggled to get the words out through my constant gasps of pleasure, but it was clear that they didn’t fall on deaf ears as Matt moaned in pleasured acknowledgement against my heat and kept his rhythm and pressure the exact same.

Feeling another orgasm begin to bear its teeth in my stomach, it was like my hips grew a mind of their own because as soon as Matt brought his hands under my ass to lift me slightly up on the couch; I began grinding my heat against his eager mouth. “Fuck.” He moaned against my clit as he continued to greedily suck and lick my nerves. I squeezed my eyes shut as a whine escaped my lips from an approaching orgasm, the pleasure that his mouth was giving me was too much. “S-stop baby.” I said suddenly, to which he immediately detached his mouth from me and I watched as his eyes scanned my fucked out face. “What’s wrong? You want to stop?” He seemed so concerned, clearly worried that he had somehow crossed a boundary, and it caused my chest to flutter. “N-no. It’s just, I was gonna cum again.” He raised a quizzical eyebrow, clearly confused by how that might be a problem. “I…I want to cum with you.” I finally said, and watched as his facial expression changed from one of concern back to one filled with lust.

He smiled quickly before dragging his body up my own, planting occasional kisses along my body on his way. Once he reached my head, he immediately began kissing me passionately, slipping his tongue through my parted lips and allowing me to taste myself on his mouth. Pulling away, I noticed my arousal laced throughout his beard, and that along with his pink swollen lips fresh off of my heat was enough to make my head spin. Just then, I felt him line his shaft up with my entrance, and immediately gasped out when he slid it in completely. Before moving at all, Matt took a moment to gaze down at my destroyed face before grabbing my legs and wrapping them around his waist. He then leaned forward and propped himself on his forearms on either side of my head; slipping a hand through my hair and grabbing onto it gently.

After noticing my body relax, he finally began thrusting into me. Starting off slow and deep, he gradually increased his speed until he was pounding his inches deep into me at a rapid pace. Already being close to cumming, I struggled to get a grip on my thoughts as the pleasure of the moment pulled me deeper and deeper into a world of euphoria. “You’re so tight sweetheart.” He muttered through his grunts, and I felt my eyes roll to the back of my head at his words. “F-feels so good Matty.” I managed to reply, tightening my legs around his waist as I tried everything I could to hold off my orgasm.

Matt’s hand snaked through my hair before he grabbed onto my cheek, brushing it gently with his thumb as he stared at me with a gaze so intense that it was almost intimidating. “I-I’m close Y/n.” He nearly whispered, and I felt his pace begin to slow slightly as he began to be overtaken by his own orgasm. My eyebrows knitted together as I felt my walls began to break. “M-me too.” I replied, wrapping my hands tightly around his biceps to keep me grounded. “Ah fuck, I’m cumming baby.” His erotic words were followed by a string of animalistic grunts as he drove his cock in and out of me — slow but hard — and it was like my body was waiting to hear those words as my second orgasm immediately ran through me like a freight train.

My breathy moans harmonized with his deep ones, and I felt my walls contract around his shaft; milking his dick as it painted them white. My legs were wrapped so tightly around his waist, he was barely able to move them as we both rode the waves of our intense pleasure. As my orgasm continued to tear through me, my back arched off of the couch and my body trembled. From above me, Matt watched me writhe in bliss as his movements completely stopped. As I finally began coming down from my high, I felt his hand brush through my hair affectionately, and watched as his face turned up in a smile before he placed a deep kiss to my lips.

He gently pulled his cock out of me, causing me to wince from the raw pain, before laying beside me on the couch and pulling me into him. Face to face, we stared lovingly at each other for a moment; my mind still spinning from how good he had made me feel, and in that moment I was worried that my heart might explode. His blissed expression told me that he was feeling the same, and his hand delicately rubbing the small of my back confirmed it. “Are you okay?” He finally asked, minor concern visible on his beautiful face. “I’m more than okay.” I answered honestly with a chuckle, causing him to laugh in relief as well. “I think I actually love sex.” I continued, causing him to really laugh this time before planting a kiss on my sweat-beaded forehead. “Well I think I actually love you.”

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[dcxdpdabbles]

Idea: same premise as Jazz being in Gotham with a deaged Danny and ending up dating Jason, but make it so Jazz is deaged and Danny ends up dating Cass

The first time Cass meets Danny is when he drops off his niece at the dance studio. She is filling in for a friend who typically volunteers as a ballerina instructor but has sprained her ankle in the last show together.

Since the program is meant to offer free classes for the children of low-income families, Cass feels it's important not to cancel classes as often as possible.

She doesn't even greet Danny as she's inside the studio with a group of five-year-olds, and he is out in the lobby.

He signs in Jazz at the front reception, talking to the employee there.

Danny hugs and kisses her cheek before the little girl runs inside to start her warm-up, leaving her father at the doorway of the dance room. Cass will admit she only notices him because he stares after the five-year-old with a smile and deep, wistful sadness in his body language.

Cass has seen enough in her night job to know that Jazz reminds Danny of someone he lost. He loves and adores the child but is constantly reminded of those long past. She has always been able to see someone in mourning, even when they hide it behind words.

The man stared for only a few seconds before he turned around and disappeared to the parking lot. Everyone else would have figured he was only making sure she had safely found a spot for her bag, but Cass could read him better than that.

The other had been traveling through memories as he watched the little girl laugh with her class friends.

Later, after the class is done and the children have all been picked up, she learns from the receptionist that Jazz is actually his sister's kid, who has died in childbirth. Danny had been appointed as her guardian, seeing as their parents had passed two years before, and no one knew who the father was. He had named the baby after the brave woman who had died only after making sure the baby had been born.

The man had moved to Gotham not too long ago, struggling to find work due to his meta-abilities. Lola, the gym receptionist, shook her head sadly. "Rumor has it the state is constantly trying to take Jazz from him. They claim it's to protect her, but we all know it's anti-meta bigotry."

Something about that struck a core with Cass. She, more than anyone, could tell when a father was a danger to his children. Danny's body language does not hint at anything but the love and protection of his niece. She had gone home to ask Babs and Tim to look into Danny's case.

It was worse than they thought, and Danny's continued guardship of Jazz was likely due to Gotham's corrupted system. Tim, head of the Gotham Knights Youth Program, was incredibly outraged that Danny and Jazz had likely not been separated because people in charge were purposely delaying the final outcome by trying to squeeze Danny for bribe money.

They could trace Danny forking over plenty of bribe money to have Jazz, along with several other families, for another month. This meant that he was always shot on his other bills, which did not do him any favors when trying to prove he could provide for Jazz, and the cycle started all over again.

Cass, Tim, and Babs all got to work on cracking down on this horrific shakedown. It would take them months to ensure everyone taking advantage of the system was taken out, and she had figured that other than running by their house as an Orphan, that was all the interaction she would have with the Fentons.

Tim had quickly offered Danny a position within Wayne Enterprises as a janitor and allowed Jazz to be placed in the company-provided childcare program. (Danny struggled to find work because he had no one to watch Jazz outside of school hours.). His new increase and guaranteed paycheck allowed Danny to keep making the br

Yet she found herself running into Danny when visiting Tim and Bruce at work and at Jazz dance practice. They would make the usual small talk—or the average amount for her, which was even less than other people politely—and often separate enough that she started associating Danny and little Jazz with her daily routine.

In the same way, she would consider seeing the same mailman making his rounds and the same beard buns being sold on the corner of Third Street every Tuesday. Nothing stuck with her besides Danny's deep loneliness and sadness hidden within his body language.

It wasn't an odd thing to see in a place like Gotham. Cass often could see more than anyone how everyone felt well walking about. She had learned long ago that while she felt sad, she could do nothing for everyone she encountered. Trying to save everyone from their own sadness wasn't possible, especially if it was due to grief.

But there was just something about Danny. She could not pinpoint what made Cass want to try, regardless of knowing it was helpless. So she found herself and started to reach out.

At first, she would pass along fun, free kid-friend event ideas, like asking him if he thought about bringing Jazz to the children's museum on their movie night? Or was he aware the library was hosting storytime by Jason Wayne? Has he tried the free chess and treat day provided by the frozen yogurt place on Mondays near the petting zoo?

Then she started messaging him. They traded numbers so she could tutor Jazz on some dance moves—free of charge—about anything and everything. Tim took notice and casually requested that she stick close by to see if anyone was off the books bothering Danny or any other meta like him.

Cass found that whatever free time she had, she was slowly filling it with Danny and little Jazz.

What a delight the girl was—smart, mature, and cheerful. Jazz has an obsession with teddy bears—especially her mother's old one that was a play on Albert Einstein—and the two would often find themselves having tea parties with her collection.

Danny would join as the royal king of the tea, and Cass would be the visiting princess. It was so fun that, for a moment, she forgot about the corruption plot she was trying to protect them from.

Danny and Jazz felt so part of her world that one day, while Bruce was trying to set up a Father-Daughter day, she opened her calendar app only to pause at the sight of it being practically filled up with plans.

There were plans involving Danny and Jazz. There were reminders to take Jazz to her appointments, school events for Jazz, Fenton Fudge night, and plans to take Danny out and have her siblings babysit Jazz.

She thinks back to all the times she's over at their house. The cooking, the movies on the couches, the texts between her and Danny. But what she thinks of the most is the warm butterfly feeling Danny causes in her, the genuine adoration for a man inside and out, and it hits her.

"I'm in love with him."

Bruce looks up from his calendar app with confusion. "You're in love with nail tech at Gotham Spa? Well, I can still book us the pedicures, but to request him might be hard-"

"No, Bruce, Danny Fenton."

"Oh"

[folkloresthings]

Hello darling I have a request from prompt ‘we were supposed to be just friends’. Lando x fem!reader, she work as legal for McLaren, they met at the McLaren technology center, and from the begging they had this special bond. During a party in a disco in uk with his friends, he stay very close to her and try to kiss her. After a sec of confusion, they kissing each other.

❛ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? ❜ ❨ lando norris x reader ❩

where lando has loved the mclaren legal officer from the second he set eyes on her and has finally decided to do something about it.

eight months out of university and working in a coffee shop was not exactly how you had pictured your life post-graduation. you had a law degree from one of the best schools in england, but all it was doing was gathering dust on a frame in your living room. nights were spent in front of the television, only half paying attention, with your laptop screen lit up with job postings. it was like the four years of knowledge was itching to be used, instead of idle hands pouring overpriced iced lattes.

admittedly, you didn't remember applying for the job at mclaren. you were so desperate that you had sent your resume to every posting you could find, barely sparing a second glance at the job summary. it was only when they emailed with an interview date did you do your research. they were a formula one team, and a pretty good one at that. the sport had never much been your thing so you hadn't a clue what kind of work you'd be doing.

but it was work. legal work.

the interview went smoothly, then the second, and the third. they seemed to love you and your education. thankfully the internships you had done during university made up for your lack of experience. they hired you and had you come up to headquarters the next day. the drive from london to woking was full of jitters, turning your radio up to block out the nervous thoughts.

"ah, y/n! welcome to the mclaren technology centre." zak brown was the one to greet you by the front desk, with a smile and a firm handshake. you had spoken during your last interview, the final hurdle with the boss, and thankfully you got along fine. despite your age and greenness in the legal world, zak admitted he saw potential in you. they had gone through six other employees in the past two years for this position, all much older and more experienced. they needed a change.

"this is where you'll be working when you're in-office," zak explained, leading the way through a tour of the centre. it was much bigger than you expected, so modern and open. yeah, you could picture yourself here. "we usually would have you here one or two days a week, the others you can work from home. is that okay?"

"that's perfect," you agree, nodding happily. "i live in london, so the drive is only about an hour."

zak grins, continuing the tour and filling each space with small talk; your education, upbringing, hobbies. he only laughed when you sheepishly told him you knew very little about formula one, and didn't have a huge interest in the sport.

"you'd be surprised how many people here don't watch it," he chuckled, his american accent strange in the midst of the english countryside. "ah, speaking of. boys!"

in the foyer, at the end of the hall, two heads whip around at zak's call. both in the mclaren colours, one was thinner and smiling crookedly. the other, well. he was...

"lando, oscar, i want you to meet y/n. she's our new internal legal officer," zak explained. "meaning if you fuck up in any way, she'll have to deal with it."

the three men laugh, bringing your own bashful smile to wake.

"hi, i'm oscar," the thinner boy speaks in a soft australian accent, shaking your hand. "but it's lando here that you'll have to keep an eye on. i'm always on my best behaviour."

lando. he'd been staring at you since zak dragged you over to them, barely blinking despite for the odd laugh. he blushes then, gently nudging oscar with his elbow. he meets your eyes and his mouth goes dry, lips parting like a fish out of water as he tries desperately to think of something witty to say.

"don't worry, if you don't do anything wrong then i won't have anything to do," you jest, breaking the silence. a grin pulls at your mouth with the words, soon mirrored by the two drivers.

"i think i'd rather you didn't, then," zak scoffs, patting your shoulder. "go get settled, i'll come check on you in a while. boys, we've got that meeting in ten — c'mon."

smiling gratefully, you nod towards zak as he leaves — a silent thank you for his hospitality. oscar waves shyly, turning on his heel to hurry after his boss. lando follows suit, just about pulling his eyes from you, but only makes it a few steps before he's turning back.

"it was, uh, nice to meet you," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "hopefully i'll see you around."

biting at your cheek, holding back a small laugh, you nod. "hopefully."

lando finds himself grinning, walking a few yards backwards just to spare another minute looking at you. oscar calls for him and forces the teammate to hurry, shoes scuffing against polished tile as he catches up.

"stare much?" oscar asks him once they're side by side, a knowing smirk twisting upward.

"shut up," lando mumbles, but his own smile flickers. "she's pretty."

after that day, lando and you became close friends. he would sneak upstairs from briefings to bring you a coffee ("extra caramel, of course") and hide out in your office. he would vent to you about changes zak was, or wasn't, making with the car. you would confide in his about particularly stressful cases you would get handed. on days you weren't in the office, lando would text you pictures of him and oscar bored in meetings.

but the worst was race weekends. very rarely did you go along with the rest of the team, as there was little need for you there. if something went wrong, you could fix it from your desk in england. lando sent you updates from each city, everything from the track to sightseeings. you would often reply with a picture of your rainy window in central london and a sad face. and each sunday, you would sit up and watch the race with your fingers crossed. no matter the time, you were there. and when a race went particularly bad, you would wait up for the phone call from lando, needing a shoulder to lean on.

the staff at mclaren began saying you two were joined at the hip, partners in crime, so often not seen without the other. the best of friends.

"hey," lando chirped, knuckles rapping on your office door one friday morning. he had two coffees in his hand, as usual, perching both them and himself on top of your desk. "you going to the office party tonight?"

"open bar, free cocktails, seeing mark from marketing drunk?" you hummed thoughtfully, sipping at the hot drink. "you bet i am."

lando laughs, head thrown back slightly. the knowledge that you'll be there relaxes him, actually letting him look forward to the mandatory night out. "okay, good. i'll see you then."

"see you tonight," you call after him, watching until he disappears around the nearest corner. luckily, zak lets everyone go an hour early in account for the party starting at eight. you hurry home, sorting through every outfit option and getting ready as quickly as you can. the club was on the other side of london, at least forty minutes on the train, hence your rushing out the door with only one heel buckled.

inside of the club, completely booked out by zak for the company's pleasure, you realised just how many people worked in the world that was mclaren. legal was such a small part of it, a tiny cog in the whole machine. it was quite overwhelming, if it wasn't for the fact that you knew so many of the faces.

"y/n, hey!" the familiar sydney accent pulls your eyes to the nearby bar. oscar waves you over, smiling as you weave your way into a hug. "this is lily, my girlfriend."

you recognised the girl from pictures, but she was even prettier in real life. you exchange bright hello's, hugging in greeting while oscar orders you both some drinks.

"it's so nice to finally meet you!" lily beams, tucking her hair behind her ears. "i've heard so much."

curiosity peaks you, head tilted ever so slightly. "you have?"

"yeah, of course. lando is always—"

her words are cut short by a wide-eyed oscar, shoving in between you both to give you your drinks. "ha, hey! let's go sit, hm?"

your brows furrow, only more confused when lily shoots you an apologetic look. she takes your hand to lead you through the crowd to a booth at the other wall. amongst a few individuals you vaguely recognise, lando sits sipping a beer. he looks up when he hears oscar greet them, but his eyes instantly shoot to you.

"jesus," he mutters, quiet enough that only max next to him hears. you look absolutely stunning, your figure newly shown off by the little dress you have on. it falls to about mid-thigh, the rest of your legs accentuated by the heels you had on. your hair and makeup has been done a bit more than it would for work, and the sight has lando's stomach churning.

you squeeze in next to lily, across the table from lando. he can't tear his eyes away from you, even when max tries to strike up conversation. all you're doing is talking to lily, leaning over into each other to hear properly, face lighting up every so often with a laugh.

"so, that's who's had you so distracted recently?" max eventually catches lando's attention, watching his best friend's eyes widen. "she's pretty."

pretty? lando though. she was gorgeous.

"we're just friends," lando explains, shaking his head.

"bro, you've been staring at her like she's the only person in the room for the last twenty minutes," max laughs airily, nudging him. lando scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny the fact. after another moment, you catch his gaze and smile softly. lando blushes, lifting his hand to wave slightly.

"okay, let's dance! this is my favourite song," max suddenly exclaims, standing up with a slap to the tabletop. a few follow suit, and you turn to lily with raised brows.

"oh, no," she shakes her head with a giggle. "i need at least two more of these drinks before you get me up there."

"well, drink up. i'll save you a dance."

smiling sweetly, you slip off of the seat to give her attention back to oscar. lando stands at the same time, smiling playfully when he looks at you. a hand of his stretches out and you can't even fathom denying it, slipping palm to palm and letting him drag you to the middle of the dance floor.

the song is drake or the weekend, something you don't really know, but the beat is so loud that you can feel it in the floor beneath you. falling into a rhythm, you giggle as lando begins moving with you. he sings along, but you don't recognise the lyrics, only the movement of his lips as his eyes shut. your chest thumps in time with the music, the heat of the people around you creeping onto your bare skin. the music mixes, changing into a melody you instantly know.

"i love this song!" you squeal, grasping lando's arms to shake them in excitement. he chuckles, watching on in admiration as you begin dancing again, reciting every single word to abba's lay all your love on me. your hands sneak down from his arms to his hands, forcing him to move along with you. he spins you around again and again just to watch your hair and dress float around you like magic, the lights of the club basking you in a heavenly hue.

somewhere in the midst of the second verse and chorus, lando feels his judgement cloud. he'd like to blame it on the beer, but he had only drank one, and he knew it was that usual intoxicating presence you carried around everywhere. your lips mould around each lyric, having listened to the song so many times (and your endless summer rewatches of mamma mia, as you once told him) that it was engraved on your memory. you looked perfect, the same as every day he snuck glances at you in the office or scrolled through your instagram late at night when he couldn't sleep for thinking about you.

you were it, for him. everything he loved and dreamed of, the only thing that had kept his feet on the ground this past season. and here you were, chest pressed to his thanks to the swarm of drunken guests, so close that he could smell your perfume and the shampoo from your hair. you had used a darker lipstick tonight, he noticed, unlike the usual clear balm you wore at work. it made you lips look even more soft than they normally do - he knew, because he spent a hefty chunk of his day staring at them.

abba fades out, along with the loud and out of tune singing filling the club, and all lando can think about is kissing you. it wouldn't be fair, for such pretty lips to go unkissed. and it wouldn't be fair on him, who has spent hours on end imagining how kissing you might feel, to let such an opportunity slip away from him.

so, he's tightening the hands that are already on your waist to pull you even closer, until there's not an inch of space left between you. his lips around rough, unmoving as they press against yours, eyes screwed shut and cursing the long seconds as he waits for your mouth to respond. eventually, he peeks through hesitant eyes to meet your surprise. your lips, colour smudged a little now from the contact, are parted and your eyes are wide. he can't discern what you're thinking, but he would bet it wasn't pure elation.

blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer, blame it on the beer.

his mouth opens just as all of his senses wire back in again, the end notes of the song just ringing out when he begins making his excuse. but your surprise and panic fills you so much that you can't breathe here, not with so many people around and lando's body heat still so close. stumbling, you push past him and everyone else that you meet to escape the busyness. the neon exit sign beckons you to the fire door, gasping when it opens and the fresh night air hits you.

thankfully, there isn't a soul to watch you and your flushed cheeks struggling for breath, and you wait until you hear the door shut behind you to fully relax again, frankly not caring if you lock yourself out. but the click of the lock doesn't come, only a familiar sound that crumbles you again.

"y/n—"

lando stands helpless in the doorway, eyes pleading for forgiveness when you turn to him. your head shakes, searching for something to say.

"i... you, what—” you struggle to grasp the right words, eyes squeezing shut. "i thought we were just friends?"

"we were! we are," lando corrects you quickly, striding towards you. "but that doesn't change the fact that i—"

"lan, please don't."

"— love you, y/n. i've been in love with you since your first day at work. how couldn't i be?"

his voice is smaller than you've ever heard it before, urging guilt into your throat until you have to swallow it back down. you make yourself look down at the ground, your heels and his sneakers facing each other, because you know you'll fall apart once you see those damned brown eyes.

"lando..." you murmur through a sigh.

"don't you feel it too?" he asks, desperately grabbing at your clammy hands. "us, me and you. it's right there."

you cave then, heart taking over from your mind, chin raised to look at him. lips turn into a frown, searching his lovelorn eyes for the moment he'll laugh and tell you its all a big joke. because he's lando, and you're just you.

"tell me that you don't, that there's nothing here," lando mumbles lower, gripping your fingers for dear life. "tell me this isn't real and i'll walk away. but — but i can't leave you if there's a chance."

your lips part with a breath, lips dry, and your sense screams at you to tell him no. that it'll never work, it's impossible. but something tugs in your chest and you realise something you had never wanted to admit to yourself: you loved lando norris.

"it'll be too complicated." you settle for excuses instead, chewing the inside of your cheek, wincing when you nick the flesh. "we have to work together, so if something happens then it'll mess everything up."

lando steadies your shaking head with his hands, one on each cheek, staring deep into your eyes. "what are you so scared of?"

you swallow, shoulders raising with each shallow breath. "i don't want to lose you. you're my best friend, the only person i can talk to. i don't want to mess that up."

your confession melts his heart, affection bringing his thumbs to graze across your cheeks. "i won't let that happen," lando promises, tongue sincere as can be.

you wait a moment, scouring his features before the trust solidifies. gently, tentatively, you search for the taste you barely got inside of the club, lips ghosting together. strawberry and beer mix on your tongues, hands wandering over body heat and mouths hungrily moving together like two teenagers in a back alley. only when breathless does lando fall from your lips, hands still steady on the round hips of your dress, keeping you close.

"i'll always be your best friend," he whispers like an oath, a boyish smile tugging at the corner of his swollen and lipstick-covered mouth. "but can we be best friends who do that, like, a lot?"

writer's note: wrote this in one sitting and may have gotten carried away but pls enjoy <3

[baby-yongbok]

Ex : Part II

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

⇝ Genre: Angst then Smut then angst again. Dirty Drama.

⇝ Summary: There's only one thing on your mind after 'welcoming' Hyunjin back into your life.

⇝ Warnings: Themes of Cheating, Arguing, Oral sex, Hyunjin is toxic - the manipulative type - and he seriously thinks he did nothing wrong. (I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!)

⇝ Word Count: 3.2k

⇝ A/N: SO MANY of you wanted a part 2 to this so I tried my best + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ I hope that you enjoy the drama! 💕

✧ Part One ✧ Masterlist ✧

It took you a week. A week of crying and screaming, a week of avoiding your friends, a week of him ignoring your calls for you to realize that Hyunjin has you fucked up if he thinks that you’re going to let him get away with what he put you through. At first you just wanted to talk to him, you thought that maybe you could convince him to cut Yara off. You thought that you could change him - how cliche. You called him for three days and when you got sick of getting his voicemail you called his best friend, Jeongin. He was surprised to hear from you but he was even more surprised when you told him everything that happened. 

“Are you fucking serious?” For the first time since Hyunjin left you crying on your bedroom floor you let it all out. You told Jeongin every dirty detail of the encounter. You cried and he was there for you, he did what Hyunjin hasn’t done for months. “Is there anything that I can do? Anything you need?” 

The line fell silent as you processed his question. Your brain is telling you one thing while your heart is telling you another. You sigh as the two battle for dominance over what comes out of your mouth next. You’ve let your heart make all of the moves for the past three days. You’ve cried and you’ve screamed all in favor of lifting the crushing pain off of your chest for an hour or two. Now it’s your brain's turn to decide and it only wants one thing. 

“Ya know there is something that you can help me with.” Your heart pleads for you to choose something less drastic, less dramatic but your brain yells for it to shut up. Why should we let Hyunjin have all the fun? “Anything, you name it.”

“Revenge.”

Hyunjin came to your place four days after you spoke to Jeongin. He had cherry red roses in his hand and an apology plastered on his face. His eyes were pleading with you before he could even open his mouth but to his surprise you hugged him. You held him tight and smiled, taking the flowers and making a home for them in your favorite vase. He was stunned to say the least but he didn’t comment. He needed you. His ex did exactly what you knew she would, she took all that she wanted from him and the second that she started to get attention from somewhere else she acted like he didn’t exist. 

He tried to be the boyfriend that you’ve been wanting him to be over the next couple of weeks but he couldn’t seem to get a hold of you. Each and every time that he’d plan a date or show up to surprise you, you were already out or you were leaving to meet with your friends. You barely answered his texts and he’s more than positive that you’ve been sending him to voicemail for the past week. It’s been a month of him putting up with you blowing him off and he’s sick of it.

He decided to show up at your place two hours before your plans to talk to you, maybe he can get you to stay home and spend some time with him tonight. He misses you more than you could even imagine and he thought that you’ve been missing him too. Shouldn’t you be dying to spend time with him? 

His face drops when he gets to your front door and his key doesn’t fit into the lock, did you change it? He rings the bell, tapping his foot anxiously as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes meet yours when it swings open and you smile at him, welcoming him in. 

“My key didn’t work.” He comments as he kicks his shoes off.

“Really? That’s odd.” You shrug as you make your way to your bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.” You call to him as the bathroom door closes behind you. The click of the lock draws a sigh from Hyunjin. Not even a kiss or a hug? Just a friendly hello like you’re not even dating. He drags himself to your bedroom and throws himself on your perfectly made bed. His thoughts project onto the ceiling as he stares at it. He feels like he’s going crazy, why are you acting so weird? No affection, barely talking, barely hanging out and you’re always on… Oh no. He sits up quickly, his eyes dart around the room until it finally lands on what he’s looking for on your bedside table.

Your Phone.

He glances over at your bedroom door before grabbing it. The screen lights up and a picture of you and your friends presents itself to him. That’s funny, wasn’t your wallpaper that picture of you two from when you went to the aquarium for your second date. You always said that that was your favorite picture. When did you change it?

He glances towards the door again and swipes your screen, his brain is busy thinking of possible password combinations but there is no password. His brows pinch together in confusion, you always have a pin on your phone. He decides to worry about that later and quickly starts searching all of your apps. He goes from your instagram to your snapchat but there’s nothing. Just a bunch of reels being sent between you and Jeongin, the last person you sent a picture to on snapchat was also Jeongin. How can his best friend have time to talk to you but he doesn’t have time to text him back? He’s called him an unimaginable amount of times over the past month but he hasn’t heard a single thing back. His finger hovers over your text messages for a second too long. What if he doesn’t like what he finds? What if you’re cheating on him? How could he handle a betrayal like that? With one more quick glance towards the door he taps the app and it opens up to a conversation. Hyunjin’s heart drops when he reads the name at the top. 

“What?” An incredulous sigh escapes him as he starts scrolling to the top of the conversation. Pet names are being thrown left and right, plans are being made every single day and there are back to back facetime calls in the dark hours of the night. 

Hyunjin’s heart is pounding in his ears and his fingers are moving so fast that he didn’t even realize that he went into your shared media. He freezes and his heart drops to his ass as he takes it all in. Nudes, videos, everything that he could imagine, all of you and his best friend. All of you and Jeongin. He opens a video and his mouth goes dry at the lewd sounds that fill the room. He’s fucking you from behind with a fist full of your hair to keep your head up. You’re drooling and moaning and Jeongin is smiling, he’s fucking smiling at the camera. His shirt - wait a minute - that’s not his. Hyunjin’s eyes go wide as he studies the fabric, his best friend is wearing his clothes while he fucks his girlfriend? Unbelievable, this can’t be real.

He quickly exits the video and scrolls through your pictures. You and Jeongin in the car, in your bedroom, your living, you on your knees and him on his. Hyunjin doesn’t even bother to look at the door to make sure you aren’t coming. He can’t hear anything but the thoughts racing through his head. His finger slips and another video opens. The sound of skin against skin echoes through his ears as the video plays. Jeongin is shirtless, fucking you in front of your bathroom mirror. Actually, he’s naked, did you two shower together? Hyunjin balls a fist in the blanket under him as he watches the video.

“Say it again, baby, say it to the camera.” A broken moan escapes you as you try to follow Jeongin’s order. “Y-you’re so much better than him, fuck me so good, Innie.” Hyunjin swears that his heart broke at the sound of you. Why would you say that? You don’t mean it do you? What did he do to deserve this?

He pauses the video and drops your phone against the mattress, your texts stare back at him and he can’t help but to scroll. “That’s not yours.” He jumps at the sound of your voice and you laugh. You wander over to lazily flip through your closet with a towel wrapped around your hair and your rob loosely tied around your body.

“What the fuck is all of this?” His voice is small, much smaller than he meant for it to be but you can hear the heartbreak laced in it. You almost feel bad for him. But that’s your heart speaking, she’s not in control right now. “You’re fucking Jeongin?”

You pick out a dress and move to your mirror, you tilt your head as you hold it against your body. “Think this is too much for a dinner date?” Hyunjin scoffs, moving to stand from your bed.

“Answer me, tell me that everything that I just found is fake. Tell me that you didn’t betray me.” He has some nerve talking about betrayal. You face him, staring back at him with faux sympathy. “I was lonely when you left, what was I supposed to do?” 

“Wait for me to get back.” You turn your attention back to your closet but he calls your name before you can pick out another dress. “You haven’t been going out with your friends have you? You’ve been with him. What in your right mind possessed you to fuck my best friend?”

“Do you really care, Hyunjin? Do you really want me to tell you? Cause I’ll tell you everything but that’s not what you want to hear, is it?” He watches as you slowly step towards him, like a vixen with her eyes set on a prize. “You wanna hear me say that I love you. You want me to say that I’ll stop seeing him because I need you.” 

He’s stuck in place as he watches you, heavy breaths passing his parted lips as you read him like a book. That’s exactly what he wants, he wants you, that’s all he’s wanted for the past month. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” His voice is a mere whisper once you reach him, like he’d scare you away if he talks too loudly. “That’s what I want.” He shudders when you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. 

“Are you touch starved, baby?” His soft gaze pours into yours but he doesn’t recognize the look in your eyes. It’s not what he wants but he’ll gladly take it. At least you’re looking at him. “Didn’t your ex touch you while you were away?”

His heart sinks and a smile creeps onto your lips. “She - she did but -” You tsk, cutting him off before he could stumble over his words further. 

“She didn’t make you feel like I do, did she?” He shakes his head, guilty eyes staring back into yours as you reach down to palm him over his sweats. “Is that why you’re back? She didn’t take care of my Hyune?”

“She’s not you.” His breath is heavy and his eyes roll back as he answers with a thick groan. You run your fingers over him with expert precision. You’ve always known what to do to get him going. “I want you, not her. Always you.”

“Untie my robe.” You whisper and he quickly obeys, fumbling with the loose knot until the fuzzy fabric falls open and reveals your naked body to him. “Wanna show me how much you want me?” He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss but you dodge him before he can. A disapproving whimper escapes him and you puff out your lip in a fake pout. 

“Gotta be patient, my baby. Can you do that?” He nods, whimpering out a pathetic ‘yes’. His eyes follow your frame as you sit on the edge of your bed. Your eyes wander from his down to the floor in front of you and back up again. He quickly follows your unspoken instruction, falling to his knees in front of you and drooling when you part your legs before him. “Show me.”

Hyunjin latches onto your core like a desperate puppy. His tongue wastes no time exploring every inch of you that he’s missed. Hums and moans vibrate through him as he tastes you and you match each sound with your head thrown back and your fingers laced in his hair. At least he remembers how to eat your pussy the way that you like it, though you must admit that you’ve gotten used to Jeongin’s mouth on you. 

Your bed creaks as his hips buck against it in a desperate attempt to feel half as good as you do. “Fuck, come on, Hyune. Don’t tell me your best friend eats my pussy better than you.” He groans in protest, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you open while he works against you. You gasp in pleasure, so he’s competitive? He swirls his tongue in imaginary patterns, sliding it between your folds as he takes turns sucking on your clit and fucking your pulsing hole. His hips grind restlessly against the edge of your mattress and desperate grunts fill the air once they vibrate through your core. 

“You missed me didn’t you?” You pull him back with your fist in his hair, his swollen lips glisten in the low lamp light and his eyes are glazed with fuckout desperation. “Yeah, missed you.”  He’s too deep into the brain fog to hear just how pathetic he sounds but you’re more than happy to take it all in for him. A strangled moan escapes you as Hyunjin's tongue explores deeper. You grip his hair tighter as he laps up your juices, and you arch your back to meet him. 

His thrusts against your mattress become more desperate as laps at you, The mess of your drooling cunt makes a mess all over his chin as he works desperately to get you to the edge but that’s not the part that gets you close. It’s the thought of him hoping and praying that hi tongue is fucking you better than Jeongin ever did and as you get closer to coming undone you find yourself clenching at the thought that his best friend does it better. “Shit, Jeongin, I’m gonna cum.” 

 Your orgasm rips through you with a loud moan and your body shudders in pleasure. You hold Hyunjin's head in place against your core as his tongue continues to work diligently in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm. Once you’ve come down from your high he pulls back slowly, a single string of spit still connecting him to your cunt.

“What did you call me?” He mumbles, not even bothering to wipe his mouth clean. You stare down at him with not an ounce of care in your eyes. 

“Don’t remember.” You pull your robe closed and slide from in front of him to pull yourself up to your feet. “And I don’t care.” Hyunjin’s heart dissolves as he watches you shrug and wander back over to your closet.

“What are you doing?” He mumbles and you scoff.

“Will you stop with the pitiful tone?” He scrambles up from his knees quickly, a surge of anger running through him. 

“Come on.” He stalks over and wraps his arms around you, leaning in to kiss your neck but you push him away before he can. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I have a date to get ready for.” You flip through your clothes and it’s only now that he notices the empty space in your closet. “Where are my clothes?” 

“I told you to take all of your shit last month.” You shrug, pulling out a dress and holding it against your body in the mirror. “You didn’t take it so I gave most of it to Jeongin. Thought about burning the rest but I donated it instead.”

He watches you silently, jaw hung slack in a frozen state of disbelief. “Are there fucking cameras in here?” He looks around, half desperate for that to be the case. “Is this a joke?”

“The only joke here is you. Did you think that you could come back here and I’d act like nothing happened?” A venomous laugh erupts from your chest. “Be fucking forreal.”

“But we just fucked, I just ate you out why would you let that happen if you’re still going to see Jeongin?” 

“You got a phone call last time. You owe me, remember?” Hyunjin can’t decide if he should be livid or desperate. He wants to yell and curse you out for being so ridiculous but at the same time he wants to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He had hoped that you understood what happened a month ago. He thought that he could count on you to see that he only did what he had to do. Yeah he cheated but if you really loved him you could move past that. 

“You’re excused. I need to get ready.” You push past him, bumping your shoulder with his but he grabs you by the waist before you can get too far, pulling you against his chest. “Don’t be like that, angel.”

 His hands run smoothly up your side, taking in every curve of you. “I know I upset you but you can’t act like you don’t want me. What happened to you forgiving me?”

His lips brush over yours slowly as he whispers. “I want you so badly, I wanna be with you tonight. Stay here with me.” You smile against him as the towel containing your hair slips off of your head and your damp curls curtain around the two of you. You run your hands up his chest, taking in each and every toned dip before you whisper back. “Get out.” You peck his lips and push him away from you with a smile.

“You’re making a mistake.” He pleads with wide eyes blown with anguish. “He doesn’t make you feel like I do, you know that.” Your ringtone bounces off of the walls before you get a chance to answer him. You reach across your mattress and smile when you see Jeongin’s name.

“You’re right.” You shrug, swiping to answer the call. “He makes me feel so much better.” Hyunjin’s jaw clenches as you press the phone to your ear with a smile. You greet his best friend with a sweet tone that used to be exclusively for him. Hyunjin is practically invisible to you as you buzz around your room grabbing accessories and planning your outfit. It isn’t until he grabs your wrist on your way to your vanity that you look at him again.

“Please don’t do this.” Jeongin’s voice is heard from the receiver before you can answer the man in front of you.

“Who’s that, baby?” He asks, and you smile as Hyunjin deflates.

 “No one.” You shrug off Hyunjin’s hold and he deflates as you passively wave him away. “That’s no one.”

Tag List: @dessianna1, @foxytoxxic, @snxfall (If you asked to be tagged and you weren't it's because you did not have your age in your bio. You MUST have your age in your bio to be tagged )

[crescenthistory]

and what about it?

Summary: Continuation of this storyline. Barty and you keep bickering, to everyone's chagrin and no one's surprise – until you kiss, that is.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: not proofread, use of y/n, absolute chaos going down, bickering, flirting, barty being maniacal and a bit masochistic, jegulus and wolfstar as supportive characters, literally everyone is silly in this

Note: you demand and i supply! i love these idiots

next part here!

The Hogwarts library was filled by a mix of quiet whispers and faint shuffling, with students huddled at tables pretending to study for the upcoming exams. In the very back, though, far away from the more studious lot, the Marauders and company had claimed their usual table, where studying was more of a suggestion than an actual plan.

James and Regulus sat closest to the end of the long table, side by side in that annoyingly close way that proved they were still very much in their honeymoon phase. James had his chair tilted back, arms stretched out casually behind Regulus, while Regulus, with an almost imperceptible smile, tried to look like he was paying attention to his Potions book.

“You know, love,” James started, leaning in a little closer to Regulus, “you don’t actually have to study right now. We could always… take a break.”

“Take a break from what exactly?” Sirius interjected, still hunched over the parchment he was doodling on. “You haven’t done a single productive thing in the last hour, Prongs.”

James huffed, but didn’t move away from Regulus, who was still pretending he couldn’t hear any of them. “I don’t see you doing any work, Pads.”

Sirius glanced at his doodles – an elaborate sketch of a Quidditch goal post being struck by lightning – before smirking. “This is art, mate. Very productive.”

Remus, who was sitting beside Sirius and perhaps the only one taking actual notes, sighed without looking up. “You two are hopeless. Some of us are actually trying to pass our exams.”

“Oh, Moony, live a little,” Sirius grinned, pushing his sketch toward him. “What do you think? Could sell this to the Daily Prophet, right?”

Remus didn’t even spare it a glance. “Absolutely not.”

Across the table, you were trying your best to focus on the notes in front of you, quill scratching against parchment. But the conversation around you, mixed with the ongoing flirtation between James and Regulus, was doing its best to pull you out of your concentration.

“Regulus, would you mind being disgustingly in love with Jamie a bit quieter?” you groaned, tossing your quill down in frustration, no longer inhibited around Regulus after the past few months. “Some of us are trying to focus.”

Regulus did not deign you with a glance, though his lips quirked up slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, right. You’ve been staring at Prongs like he’s your favourite broomstick all day. You two are worse than me when I got my new motorbike.”

“Oh, don’t act like you weren’t gushing about that motorbike for literal months,” James fired back, a grin spreading across his face. “This is karma, mate.”

Before Sirius could come up with a retort, you shot another glare at James and Regulus, feeling your patience wearing thin. “I swear, if I have to witness one more doe-eyed moment between you two, I’m hexing you both.”

Barty, who had been uncharacteristically quiet up until now, leaned back in his chair beside you, smirking. “What did love ever do to you, Treasure?”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “It's quite obnoxious, for one.”

Barty grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. “Don't you want to be obnoxiously in love?” he teased.

"I'd rather drink poison. Which I will, if you don't start focusing on our potions project soon." You rapped the textbook in front of him with your quill.

“Oh, come now, darling, you know I'd never do that to you,” Barty teased, lowering his voice in that infuriatingly smug way. “And there's no need to be jealous of Reggie – you could have all this romance if you wanted.”

You fixed him with a deadpan look. “With you? I’d rather go mad.”

“Already driving you mad, am I?” Barty shot back smoothly, leaning in just enough to make the air between you shift. “I must be doing something right.”

Sirius let out a loud, exaggerated groan from across the table. “Merlin, can you two ever go five minutes without throwing insults at each other?”

“No,” you and Barty said in unison, which earned a laugh from Remus and an eye roll from Sirius.

“I think they secretly like it,” James chimed in, finally pulling his attention away from Regulus just long enough to catch the tail end of your and Barty’s exchange. “You know, some people just communicate through bickering. It's their language.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at James. “I don’t bicker. He bickers. I’m just trying to survive.”

“You wound me,” Barty said, pressing a hand to his chest with mock hurt. “And here I thought you enjoyed our little chats.”

“If by ‘chats’ you mean listening to you go on and on about how brilliant you think you are, then sure,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow. “I live for those.”

“I am brilliant, though,” Barty replied, completely unfazed, his smirk growing even wider. “You’ve just yet to admit it.”

You snorted. “The only thing brilliant about you is your ability to push my buttons, when we should be studying, Junior.”

“No need to study when we both know I'll ace it regardless." You hated that he was right. "I prefer putting in the work where it matters."

You quirked a brow at him. “Sounds like laziness to me.”

“It's called priorities,” he corrected, eyes gleaming with amusement. “And right now, my priority is sitting right in front of me.”

The groan that escaped your lips was loud enough to draw the attention of a few nearby students, but you couldn’t care less. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Because it’s true.”

“And yet, you keep sitting next to me. Interesting.”

Sirius, clearly unable to help himself, let out another exaggerated sigh. “Merlin, they’re at it again. Can someone put a Silencing Charm on them?”

Remus, who had been quietly enjoying the exchange, smiled into his notes. “I’d say just let them go. They’re only warming up.”

“You’re probably right,” Sirius agreed, glancing between you and Barty as if you couldn't hear him. “Let’s see how long it takes before one of them snaps.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Don't worry, Black, I’m already nearing my limit.”

“Then do something about it, love,” Barty purred, his grin turning devilish.

You leaned in slightly, narrowing your eyes. “I will, as soon as I figure out which hex will shut you up for good.”

Before he could retort, you flicked your wand under the table, sending a tiny jolt toward him that caused him to yelp and jerk back, the smirk dropping from his face momentarily.

James burst out laughing, nearly toppling over his chair. “Oh, that was brilliant.”

Regulus, who had been watching the whole thing with a half-hidden smile, shook his head. “She's going to kill him one day.”

“That’s the plan,” you muttered under your breath, though a small, victorious smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Barty, however, recovered quickly, his smirk returning full force. “Oh, you love me too much to kill me.”

"I tolerate you at best, Junior."

"Same difference."

"I really don't think it is," James interjected, seemingly lost as his usual role of peacekeeper doesn't work with you and Barty.

"Oh, you just don't know her like I do." Barty's eyes gleamed as he stared at you.

The glare you shot him then was half-hearted at best. “Don’t push it.”

"You know I will," Barty said and winked at you, before closing the small distance between you to press a chaste peck to your lips.

It was quick, casual, and without any fanfare, just a soft press of lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world – because to you it was. You simply hummed into him before finally turning your head down back towards your notes with a satisfied smile, happy for the distracting conversation to be over.

"Excuse me what?!"

You hadn't even spent more than a second looking at your notes before you were interrupted by Sirius's voice.

You looked up to find everyone staring at you.

James had gone completely still, his mouth hanging open in an almost comical expression of shock. Regulus was blinking rapidly, as if trying to process what had just happened, while Sirius had frozen mid-doodle, his quill still in the air.

The only person who wasn’t shocked was Remus, who had broken into quiet, knowing laughter, clearly enjoying the chaos that was about to unfold.

“Wait– wait– hold on a second,” James finally sputtered, pointing between the two of you. “Did you just– did I just see–?”

"Use your words, Potter," Barty drawled out, eyeing the scene with interest.

“You two are– what?!” Sirius repeated, still frozen with his quill in the air. His eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he stared at you and Barty like you had just sprouted tentacles.

Barty, completely unfazed, leaned back in his chair with the most satisfied grin imaginable, casually crossing his arms behind his head. “Dating. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” James sounded like he might actually choke on the word. His glasses were sliding down his nose from the sheer force of his shock. “Obviously?!”

You shrugged, flipping through your notes like nothing at all had just happened. “Yeah. Why are you all acting like this is news?”

“Because it is!” Sirius threw his quill down dramatically, turning fully in his chair to gawk at you both. “Since when are you two... together?”

You exchanged a glance with Barty, who looked more amused than anything. “I dunno,” you said nonchalantly, “a few weeks, maybe?”

“A few weeks?!” James spluttered, his voice going up at least two octaves. He ran a hand through his already disastrous hair, looking utterly dumbfounded. “How– how did none of us know this?”

Barty gave an infuriatingly casual shrug, his smirk only growing wider. “Wasn’t exactly a secret. You lot were just too wrapped up in your own business to notice.”

“Too wrapped up?!” James looked at Regulus, as if his boyfriend might have some hidden answer to this impossible puzzle. Regulus, to his credit, had his head buried in his hands, looking both embarrassed and quietly amused. “Reggie, you didn’t notice?”

Regulus groaned, his face still hidden. “I noticed. I just didn’t want to talk about it.”

Sirius gaped at his brother. “You knew?”

“Well, I guessed, they're not exactly subtle,” Regulus muttered, still hiding behind his hands. “They bicker like they’re married.”

Remus, who had been laughing quietly this whole time, finally spoke up, his voice full of smug amusement. “He’s right, you know. The bickering should’ve been a dead giveaway.”

“Oh, come on,” James said, throwing his hands in the air. “Bickering is just– bickering! We bicker all the time! I bicker with Sirius – doesn’t mean I’m secretly dating him!”

“I should hope not,” Sirius muttered, still looking completely thrown. “You’re not my type.”

James blinked at him, momentarily sidetracked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Sirius said quickly, waving it off. “Focus, James! The issue here is this.” He gestured wildly between you and Barty. “This... thing they’ve apparently been doing under our noses for weeks.”

"I really think you lot are overreacting," you said, giving everyone a half-glare.

“I can't believe you kissed,” James said, as if just remembering it. “I mean... you kissed. Right there. In front of us. Our Y/N and Junior. Like it's no big deal.”

“It's not” you said, giving him a pointed look. “It’s called a relationship, Potter. People kiss in them.”

James shook his head, looking more confused than ever. “But you two have been acting the same as always! You don't even like each other! Actually, scratch that, you hate each other.”

Barty looked far too pleased with himself as he leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh, darling, you really don't know anything, do you?” he teased at the same time as you said, "And what about it?"

Sirius made a noise somewhere between a gag and a groan. “Ugh, stop. Just stop. This is making me nauseous.”

Remus was practically in tears now, wiping at his eyes as he continued to laugh. “This is... the best thing that's happened today.”

James looked positively ready to combust. "I am so confused." Regulus elbowed Sirius when he whispered what's new?

Barty leaned back again, his grin never faltering. “It's not our fault you were just too busy snogging Reggie here to notice.”

James immediately went red, and Regulus shot Barty a glare, though his lips were twitching with barely suppressed amusement. “Shut up.”

“Oh no, don’t let them turn this around on us,” Sirius cut in, pointing dramatically at you and Barty. “You two are the ones that have been lying this whole time!”

“We weren’t lying,” you said, your tone exasperated now. “You never asked. It’s not our fault you didn’t notice.”

Remus snorted. “To be fair, you do literally nothing to make it obvious. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were just flirting through arguments.”

“We are flirting through arguments,” Barty said matter-of-factly, earning a sharp look from you.

You jabbed a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “We are not.”

“We definitely are,” Barty fired back, looking far too pleased with himself. “You think of new ways to insult me every day, and I’ve never been more in love.”

There was an audible groan from Sirius. “Merlin’s beard, I am begging you to stop.”

James had dropped his head to the table by now, shaking it slowly like he couldn’t believe what was happening. “I can’t even process this. I need to lie down. Reg, tell me this isn’t happening.”

Regulus patted James awkwardly on the back. “It’s happening.”

Sirius threw his hands up in the air, officially reaching peak exasperation. “I feel betrayed. Absolutely betrayed. All these weeks – months, even – and no one thought to mention, ‘Oh hey, by the way, Barty and Y/N are snogging’?”

"Shagging," Barty corrected, to which you fully slapped his arm and Regulus winced.

“Disgusting.”

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand. “I don't know what to tell you, Siri. It never came up.”

“Never came up?!” James lifted his head from his hands, looking utterly scandalised. “You’ve been dating for weeks and it never came up?”

“We didn’t feel the need to announce it to the world,” you shot back, now fully irritated with how much of a fuss they were making over this. “We were kind of busy with, you know, being in a relationship.”

“Exactly,” Barty chimed in, his grin back in place. “We were busy... prioritising.”

Regulus, still looking a little embarrassed but clearly entertained, shook his head. “You two are unbelievable.”

Sirius, ever the dramatist, leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I give up. Absolutely give up. The world makes no sense anymore.”

“Was it ever making sense to you to begin with?” Remus asked dryly, glancing over at him with a raised brow.

“Not the point, Moony,” Sirius muttered, still looking entirely put out. 

Barty shrugged again, looking far too relaxed considering the chaos he’d just unleashed. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I will never get used to this,” Sirius shot back, glaring at Barty like he’d personally offended him.

James let out a long, dramatic sigh, slumping against the table. “I need a drink.”

“And I need new friends,” Sirius added, still shaking his head.

"What you need is to calm down," you muttered under your breath. Sirius's gasp told you that he heard you.

“I’m sorry for wanting to know when one of our friends is secretly dating a complete maniac.”

“Complete maniac?” Barty echoed, feigning hurt. “That’s harsh, Black. I prefer charming rascal.”

“I prefer punchable face." It would have been less convincing if you weren't smiling, leaning more and more into Barty's touch.

He grinned down at you and winked. “You can punch me anytime you wish, Treasure. Make sure it bruises, ‘kay?"

“Oh, enough!” James looked like he might actually lose his mind at this point. “You’ve been complaining about me and Reg, but you two are so much worse.”

Remus, ever the voice of reason, shook his head with a faint smile. “Just let them be. This is obviously how they work. I’m sure we’ll all get used to it eventually.”

James and Sirius exchanged a look that clearly said we absolutely will not, but neither of them said anything. Instead, James let out a long, tired sigh and stood up, ruffling his hair as if to shake off the mental exhaustion of the day. “Right, I need a break from this madness. I’m going to the kitchens. Anyone want to come?”

“Definitely,” Sirius muttered, standing up as well. “I need some food to process this... tragedy.”

Regulus chuckled softly, standing to follow them. “I’ll come with you. Though I’m still not sure why you’re so shocked.”

The boys kept bickering and mumbling between them as they hastily gathered their things, while you made a sound between a scoff and a laugh, leaning into Barty. 

“Thank you for this gift,” Remus teased before throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “They will never recover it seems.”

You shook your head, but couldn’t help but smile at how much Remus had enjoyed the chaos. “You’re a bit sadistic, Lupin.”

“Only when it’s deserved,” Remus replied with a wink.

Barty stretched his arms behind his head, looking far too relaxed given the absolute meltdown that had just taken place. “Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way... care to finish that kiss?”

You shot him a glare, though your lips twitched upward. “You’re lucky I don’t leave you after the drama you’ve caused me.”

Barty grinned. “You wouldn’t dare. You like me too much.”

“You know, the fact that you two are dating somehow makes your bickering worse,” Remus said, still within airshot.

“We aim to please.”.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. “Come on, let’s get out of here before Sirius comes back with his 'and another thing's”

Barty stood up, offering you a hand with a smirk. “As you wish, Treasure.”

You took his hand, but not without giving him a playful shove as you walked past him. “Keep talking, and I might change my mind.”

“I’d still win you over,” he replied, completely confident.

As you walked off together, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but think that maybe this chaos wasn’t such a bad thing after all. After all, you had Barty, and you were both having far too much fun watching everyone lose their minds over it.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

swift revenge

Summary: Taking out a threat of a big group of raiders one of Jackson Patrol groups had spotted the day before, leaves Joel finding someone form his past he thought had been dead for over twenty years.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3.2k

Rating: M

Warnings: post outbreak, raiders, holding people in cages, sexual trafficking, implied sexual abuse, angst, dark themes, reunion, protective Joel, feral Joel taking immediate revenge when he finds out what had been done to reader, reader is Joel's pre outbreak fiancé, blood, little bit of gore

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

"Who did this to you" Drabbles

There were many, many things he could be doing right now. 

He could be at home. He could be sitting in front of his fire place, in the warmth, reading a book or enjoying a glass of shitty whiskey. 

He could try to talk to Ellie again, maybe talk her into playing the guitar with him again. 

Hell, he’d rather be working in the kitchens, enduring the trash talk of the kitchen staff, than riding through this fucking snow storm with a group of the patrol men and women, riding towards the outer parts to a small town where another patrol group had spotted raiders the day before. 

He knew that if they had been sent out through this weather, these raiders must be a real threat. 

And while he knew he was one of the most trusted and capable patrol group members, he was getting tired. 

The last two years in Jackson had made him grew comfortable. Maybe even a little lazy at times. He wasn’t getting any younger.

Sometimes he wondered how his life would be right now, if the outbreak hadn’t happened.

If he would still be living in his house in Austin. Maybe he would have got into Sarah’s pleas and put a pool in the backyard. 

Maybe his baby girl would have found someone and gotten married. Hell, maybe he’d be a grandpa by now. 

And you… maybe he would have gotten to marry you. Make a home with you. Have another kid or two….

He shook his head, his eyes blinking back into reality. 

„Approach with caution. Will and Emma spotted at least six people before they retreated. They chose the big school that we cleared some months ago as their shelter. There might be more people inside. We gonna meet up with the second patrol group in the woods behind the school and then decide how we carry on,“ Tommy instructed the group of eight people Joel was part of. 

Joel took a deep breath before he rode forwards, next to his brother. 

„How bad do you think it is?“ He asked, hearing Tommy sigh. 

„William said they saw how three men dragged a woman from inside and… you can imagine. Dunno what else is waiting inside. I don’t like it. But they got to close to Jackson. Gotta take care of them,“ he said. 

„Think we could get into the school through the barricaded basement?“ Joel asked, hearing Tommy hum. 

„Possibly. Let’s check in with the other group. They have been watching them for the last four hours,“ Tommy said. Joel nodded. 

„Hey uh… You okay? You seem… dunno quieter today,“ Tommy said, looking up at Joel from where he was riding next to him. 

Joel released a long breath.

„It’s her birthday today,“ he said quietly and Tommy raised his eyebrows before a sad smile came to his lips. 

„You gonna be okay?“ Tommy asked and Joel gave him a half smile. 

„Don’t have another choice, huh?“ He shrugged and Tommy pressed his lips together in a tight smile. 

„We should get a drink after. To celebrate her,“ Tommy said. 

Joel nodded. 

„I’d like that.“

There were definitely more than six people inside this school. Thankfully the basement entrance had still been barricaded, so they could enter the school quietly without alerting anyone inside.

But what they encountered once they made their way upstairs was unlike he had ever seen.

These people must have been here for a while.

And they were monsters. 

Cages were set up, women chained inside, with only either their head or their legs sticking out and Joel could only imagine what these monsters had been doing to them. 

He was still trying to form a plan when the first shot rang out. 

The following minutes where a blur. He had lost count of the amount of men he had killed as he made his way towards the other side of the room, still keeping an eye on the patrol group and his brother who was right beside him, taking the threats out until only three of the raiders were left, now tied up to a pole close to the staircase, William, one of the first patrol men, keeping an eye on them, gun pointed at them. 

Joel closed his eyes, his gun still in his hand as he searched for his brother who was already walking towards him. 

„How many?“ Joel asked. 

„Counted around 20 including the three that are still alive,“ he said, bending down to clean his knife from blood using the shirt of one of the dead men laying on the ground. 

Joel sighed. 

„I don’t like this,“ he said.

„Me neither. Might need some help with getting some answers out of the rest. Wanna know if there are more and how they found this place,“ Tommy said and Joel nodded. 

„What about…?“ Joel gestured around them, counting six cages. He hadn’t looked closer at who was inside. 

Tommy rubbed his fingers over his nose in deep thought. 

„Offer them to join Jackson. Don’t think they gonna trust us though. Can only imagine what these monsters put them through. Might need to send for some women from Jackson. We only have Emma here to talk to them and you know they probably do not trust men. I wouldn’t either,“ Tommy said.

Joel sighed, letting his gaze drift through the room that must have been the cafeteria before the outbreak. 

He would never understand just how much the outbreak changed people. Or more like… let them live their true self without having to think of the aftermath of their actions. 

„We gonna search the rooms on this level first and the rest of the building for more people and then I’m gonna send three people back to Jackson to get some more people and horses over here,“ Tommy said and Joel nodded. Tommy gave him a tired smile before he turned away from him and walked towards some patrol member to instruct them about what to do

Joel walked towards the first dead person laying on the ground, searching through his clothes. He hated this part, but it was important. More than once the stuff people had on them had given him clues to other threats that were around.

He was checking the third person when he heard Tommy call out for him. 

Joel grabbed the ammo he had found and walked towards his brother who was standing at one of the more closed caged. They were build rather amateurish with some wood and some barbed wire on the top. He tried to school his face into a neutral one when he approached, pointedly ignoring the filthy line of what could only be dried cum dripping down what looked like a improvised flap in the door, next to where Tommy was standing in the opened door to the cage. 

Tommy looked at Joel with an expression he had never seen before. Fear, surprise, pity?

„What’s going on?“ Joel asked and he saw Tommy send two of the patrol men away who had been standing next to him. 

Joel joined Tommy at the opened door, Tommy’s lips opening and closing without any words coming out before he finally just nodded his head towards the cage where Joel could see a woman sit in the corner, her back towards them. 

She was hiding, making herself as small as possible.

Her hair was long and matted, laying over her shoulder, almost reaching down to the ground.

„Tommy…“ Joel began, wanting to ask what the fuck was going on when the woman turned her head towards them, bright wide eyes looking directly at them.

It was like his body knew, before his brain did. 

His heart rate going up, his hands clenching into fists. His breathing quickened and he only realised he had lost his balance when he felt Tommy’s arm behind his back, holding him up.

He knew those eyes. 

He saw them in his dreams during good nights when he woke up in his old home, in his old bed, in her arms.

He saw them in his nightmares during bad nights when he imagined the million ways she had possibly died. 

He whispered your name and could see your head tilting, your eyes still on him. He didn’t know how long you just stared at each other before something in your face changed, your bottom lip trembling.

„Joel?“

Through the fog inside your brain, it took a while to realise that the man standing in the opened door of what had been your prison for weeks (or months) was not your in your imagination. 

He looked older, and for a small moment you were angry that even after more than twenty years and a whole fucking apocalypse Joel Miller still looked like he stepped straight out of a wet dream. 

You hugged yourself tighter, still cowering in the corner furthest from the door, your feelings overwhelming you. 

You mourned him. 

All this time you had mourned him.

You had been at his parents ranch near Nashville to prepare the birthday party of his mother the following week, Joel, Sarah and Tommy due to arrive the day after Joel’s birthday.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine waking up during the night having to kill both your future mother and father in law, both of them infected. 

For days after you were in shock, hiding in the old bunker under the barn, thankful for Joel’s dad being a little bit of a prepper.

You eventually, after waiting for weeks, made your way to a QZ, not knowing that only days after Joel would have made his way to his childhood home in the hope of finding you. 

You learned quickly that the QZ was your personal hell and you took the first real chance of something better to get out. 

And life was good for a while after that. You joined a community near Denver. You even made your way back to Austin, spending more time than you probably should have searching for even the smallest sign that Joel and Sarah had survived. But you found your old home abandoned. The cabinets picked over.

You had locked yourself into your old bedroom, allowing yourself to cry over the things you lost, before you took some pieces to take with you. 

One of Joel’s shirts and his aftershave that was still halfway full.

A picture of you, Joel and Sarah that had been taken on the day he had asked you to marry him. 

Once you got back to the community life moved on. 

But your luck had to run out sooner or later and after you community fell, you had been taken hostage and deemed to be left alive to… entertain the raiders who had burned down your home. 

You didn’t even know how long you had been with them. 

You didn’t know how long it had been since they had taken you. It could be months or years. 

You grew numb after a while. It was the only way to endure their abuse on your mind and body. 

The only way to survive was to flee into your imagination. 

And Joel was always there. 

You jumped when he took a step forward, his hands outstretched in a calming manner.

„Joel?“ You whispered again, tears filling your eyes. 

„It’s me Darlin’. Can I come over to you?“ He asked, and hearing his voice made the first tears escape. 

You slowly shook your head and he stopped, looking at you with concern. 

„I’m… Are you really here?“ You whispered. You could see him gulp, his eyes closing for a moment before he nodded. 

„I’m here. I’m really here. I…“ he shook his head, looking around before he looked back at you and slowly took his coat off. 

„It’s cold and you’re…. Can I put this on you?“ He asked, holding out his coat. 

You shook your head. 

„I’m filthy and I… You don’t…“ you were overwhelmed, not knowing what to do. 

„I don’t care about that Darlin’. I just want you to be comf…. I don’t want you to be cold,“ he said, approaching you slowly, like he would a frightened deer. As if you would jump away if he moved to quickly. 

„Okay,“ you whispered and he let out a relieved breath before he got closer to you.

„Let me help you,“ he whispered and you took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you turned towards him, your muscles spasming as you moved them, letting him slowly help you into his coat. You heard his sharp inhale the moment he saw what they did to you, the many many scars covering your whole chest, your whole body really, his breath stuttering for a moment before he slowly zipped up his coat and you couldn’t stop yourself as you let yourself fall against his chest. His arms pulling you against him immediately. 

You cried against his chest until you had no more tears left. 

When you finally looked up at him he was already looking at you.

Those big brown eyes you had fallen in love with looking at you with concern and wonder.

He reached out slowly, giving you time to turn away before his fingers slowly brushed over your cheek, the palm of his hand slowly coming to rest against your cheek and you leaned into his touch. 

„Sweetheart,“ he whispered and you closed your eyes. 

„Who did this to you?“ He asked and you released a shaky breath, opening your eyes again. 

„Who… Who hurt you like that? Who…. Who did this to you? Please tell me,“ he was almost begging, and you could see how he was restraining himself to keep calm. There was something lingering in his eyes that should scare you, but instead you found comfort in it. 

„Everyone. They all…“ you stopped yourself, one of your hands coming up to press against your chest, a move that you used to calm yourself down. 

You felt something drop down on your hand, looking up to find a tear drip down Joel’s cheek. 

„Tommy,“ he said and you were confused for a moment before someone else walked into your cell, and there was Tommy Miller, who you had not realised had been there before.

„Hi,“ he smiled warmly at you and you awkwardly smiled back, not having used these muscles in a long time. 

„Tommy is gonna stay with you,“ Joel said and you looked at Joel with wide eyes, your fingers digging into his arms, not wanting him to leave. 

„No… No… No you need to stay…. I need you to….“ You panicked. 

„Shhh…. Sweetheart. I’ll be right back. I just need…. I just need to punch one of these people in the face before I….“ You could feel him shaking beneath you in barely contained fury. 

„Joel,“ you whispered, and he finally looked at you. 

„Can you…. Can you take me away form here?“ You asked, voice quiet, barely above a whisper.

He took a deep calming breath before he looked at Tommy. 

„I’m okay to go back home?“ He asked. Tommy nodded. 

„Okay. Okay….“ He said, more to himself before he looked back at you. 

„I’m gonna take you home,“ he said.

When you slowly made your way towards the exit he picked two blankets, pulling them around your shoulders. You looked around the room, finding so many of the men who had made your life a living hell for so long lying dead on the floor. 

But it were the very alive bright blue eyes of one of the men, Gabriel, who had loved to use his knife on you most, that were looking at you that made you shrink back against Joel, your steps faltering. 

„Ah I see how it is. Kill all of my men and then steal the tightest pussy right under my nose. Fucking assholes,“ he spat and you turned away from him, hiding against Joel.

„Tommy,“ he hissed under his breath and you found yourself in the other mans arms the next moment. You looked after Joel, internally already panicking about seeing him walk away from you, before he picked up one of the axes that had been used for firewood. 

„So you just pick up women and rape them because you feel like it huh?“ Joel asked as he walked towards him. 

„I mean Yeah,“ Gabriel shrugged.

Joel nodded, coming to a stop right in front of him. 

„And I’m gonna continue to fucking do it once I get out of here,“ he said and Joel chuckled.

„You think you’re getting out of here? Really?“ Joel asked, the handle of the axe now resting on top of his shoulder. 

„Had worse odds. Some of our guys are still out, scavenging. They gonna be back and then we gonna kill you. And then we gonna get to your little community and take over…“ he said, confidence pouring out of every pore of this disgustingly excuse of a human. 

„Oh yeah? What makes you think we haven’t killed all 27 of them already?“ Joel asked and Gabriel’s smile slowly disappeared. 

„Huh? Not so sure you gonna get out of here now? You think we’re amateurs? The rest of your men are right outside. Dead,“ Joel mocked.

„Please I….“

„Tell you what. I’ll let you go,“ Joel said and you stilled. You could still feel Tommy with his arm around you, keeping you close.

Gabriel didn’t say anything, just looking up at Joel. 

„Under one condition though,“ Joel’s lips twitched into a frightening smile. 

„What is it?“ Gabriel asked and Joel called for another man, whispering something in his ear, the other man nodding. 

„You really should look away now,“ Tommy said to you and you looked up at him. 

„Why?“ You asked. Tommy only shook his head but you looked back to Joel anyway just in time when Gabriel started yelling. 

The man Joel had whispered to was pulling at Gabriels pants until he was naked from the waist down. Two other men came and grabbed Gabriel who was now screaming. They pulled him up, carrying him over to a table where he then stood against it, Joel following them, the axe now swinging and you slowly connected the dots of what was about to happen. 

„I’m letting you go,“ Joel said, before he brought the axe down, Gabriel’s bloodcurdling scream filling the room that let you hide against Tommy, taking deep breaths against him. 

Everything that happened after was a blur, but the next thing you could remember was that you were on top of a horse, Joel holding you against him, your body tucked into the blankets against his chest.

„Thank you,“ you whispered, feeling his arms tighten around you, his lips finding your temple.

„Always,“ he whispered.

[seeingivy]

the other side of the door

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my gojo as taylor series

--

tsumiki and megumi fushiguro unknowingly cause a damper on your relationship. 

you can feel satoru gloating at your side, his cheek nearly flush with yours, as you click the little arrow on your laptop.

your very meticulously made google calendar was perfect – a play by play of what you were doing at every second of the day – but at the current moment, was very deeply betraying you. 

“we’re already a whole month back, sweetheart.” satoru murmurs. 

you bite down on the softness of your cheek, sinking back against the headboard as you keep clicking, for the smallest sliver of light blue in your calendar. 

it was a little on the nose, but it was the calendar that you shared with satoru – the one that marked all the special events like dates, anniversaries and the like.

and at the current moment, much to your disbelief and to the point that he had been trying to convince you of for the past hour, there had been an absence of him for weeks now. 

you throw in the towel at the tenth consecutive click (silently ignoring that it means that it’s been well over two months now) and slam your computer shut, before turning over to him and frowning. 

“you’ve made your point.” you murmur. 

satoru grins, gloating in full flesh at the meekness in your voice, as he beckons for you to scoot closer to him on the bed. you absentmindedly lean your head against his shoulder, a motion that he welcomes with a quiet kiss on your forehead. 

“have we really not done anything together in more than ten weeks?” you mumble. 

you used to go on dates almost every week. satoru was as spontaneous as it got – any day that you spent with him was almost a guarantee of nothing not going to plan. 

it meant going to the beach in the middle of the night, an unplanned road trip on your day off, and everything in between. 

or it used to mean that. 

satoru pauses for a second, almost like he’s milling over the thought, as he rubs circles into the side of your bicep. 

“it’s just been a while since it’s been just you and me.” satoru notes. 

you sigh. you suppose you worded it wrong the first time.

toji fushiguro dying unknowingly put a damper on your relationship. 

because he left megumi and tsumiki in your wake and two kids – two kids that you had done nothing to prepare for – can and most certainly did turn things upside down. 

it meant that satoru had to work more at the school, that you having any sliver of free time was less, and that the amount of stress you had was through the roof. 

the two of them came with their own special resort of problems – of things that you couldn’t help but worry about. 

megumi wasn’t too fond of satoru. they had their rare moments, but there was something about him that was extremely closed off, to everyone, but to you a little less. and to satoru, extremely so.

his requests to you always came in quietly, asking you to stay next to him until he fell asleep, to forgive him for fighting at school all the time, to promise to never leave him. on the flip side, his irritation with satoru was something that he made sure everyone was aware of. 

tsumiki was very fond of satoru, but she was of most people. sometimes it felt a little obsessive that way – the way she was a little bit too close to her friends at school, the teacher in her class, and satoru.

he thought it was sweet, and at most times you were inclined too as well, but the obsession with being so close all the time was concerning. 

and possibly even more than that, that most of the things you saw felt like they were a figment of your imagination, because satoru was so blind to their plight. 

he didn’t worry about them as much as you did. but sometimes it felt like he didn’t see exactly what it was that you saw – tsumiki awkwardly pushing her food around the plate, red scratches all over megumi’s arms towards the end of the week, and matching pairs puffy eyes when they came down for breakfast in the morning. 

though it wasn’t entirely his fault either. because by some turn of luck, every time they were around him they smiled – laughed at his dumb jokes, turned their nose up at the impressions he did of all of their teachers, and snuck into his classroom between periods to get snacks. 

satoru pokes at the side of your temple. 

“don’t feel too bad now. i know this entire thing has been stressful. especially for you.” he murmurs. 

you shrug. 

“you seem to be taking it just fine.” you note. 

satoru shrugs. 

“i can tell that most of your stress comes from what they’re doing at school. who megumi is fighting with, tsumiki’s friends – i can’t really relate to that because i’m right there with them. granted, tsumiki is two classes up, but her teacher gives me updates all the time.” satoru responds. 

you give him a quiet nod. 

“and since i’m there, i can tell you that they’re fine. he hasn’t fought with anyone in a few weeks now. and tsumiki is really excited to go to this dance.” 

you groan. 

“that dance you signed me up to chaperone for?”  you groan. 

“the very same. it’ll be fun.” 

you curl your nose in disgust. 

“spending my very limited free time giving snacks to a bunch of sweaty kids and asking them to not grind on each other isn’t my idea of fun, satoru. and some of your co-workers freak me out.” 

satoru elbows you in the side. 

“suguru will be there. and plus, it’ll be good for me. you’ll be my date.” satoru responds. 

you lean back against the headboard. 

“you didn’t even ask me to the dance.” 

“it’s sadie hawkins, y/n. girls ask boys, silly.” he responds, flicking at the softness of your cheek. 

you sigh, before turning to him and giving a smile. his hair is slightly damp from the shower he just took, skin still soft from the warmth of the shower. and it’s the thing that you worry about most. 

you’ve slipped away from him because he let you. that you neglected him because of the kids, but at some point, he became so accustomed to it, that it didn’t even bother him anymore. 

“are you going to go to the dance with me, satoru?” 

he gives you a glimmering smile. 

“i thought you’d never ask peach.” 

--

satoru marks it with a big pink heart on the calendar the next morning. 

“what’cha looking at?” you ask, placing your hands on the tops of both of their heads and ruffling their hair. 

“the heart.” megumi states. 

you hum in response, crouching down to be level with their heads. megumi welcomes the touch, leaning back against your knees, as tsumiki nestles her face in the crook of your neck. 

“it’s for the dance.” you respond. 

megumi groans. 

“does that mean miss miwa is going to come over to our house for dinner?” megumi asks. 

you frown. 

“and why would miss miwa come to our house for dinner?” you ask. 

you would rather die than invite miss miwa over to dinner. 

kasumi miwa was tsumiki’s seventh grade teacher who you had the displeasure of meeting three times, each in the worst possible circumstances. 

masked in faceforward politeness and her flashy personality, she had no reservations in correcting you each time you made a mistake when it came to the kid. that pick-up time was at two-thirty, not three-fifteen, that the projects were due at the end of the month, that the formal uniforms were for wednesday and wednesday only. 

tsumiki was overly fond of her, satoru had nothing but good things to say about her, and megumi wasn’t a fan – but that was the norm, so you didn’t think much of it and kept it to yourself. 

your sneaking suspicion about her were ones that you kept to yourself. and one that you didn’t even have time to worry about anyways. 

“isn’t that what you do when you take someone to a dance? eat dinner together before?” megumi asks. 

“who is taking miss miwa to the dance?” you ask. 

“gojo, obviously.” tsumiki responds, shuffling away from the calendar to her seat on the dining table. 

you can feel the muscles in your shoulder tense, a terse stiffness in your neck as you ponder over the thought. 

megumi follows suit and you trail behind the two of them, keen to poke for more details. you note that tsumiki’s already made a mess of the food on her plate by swirling it around, as you take a seat in between them. 

“and why would gojo obviously be taking miss miwa to the dance?” you ask. 

“because he’s her work husband.” 

you narrow your eyes at her, gesturing for her to explain. 

“you’re his home wife. well, i know you guys aren’t actually married, but you’re his person here. and miss miwa is his work wife. she’s basically like what you are to him, but just at school.” 

you sigh, as you reach for the glass of orange juice and down it in one go. megumi spares you a weird glance, before miwa continues. 

“tsumiki.” megumi states, voice cautionary as he flits his eyes at you. 

she misses the hint entirely. 

“he eats breakfast with you, but lunch with her. and they’re planning the entire dance together so they spend a lot of time together. she even gets him coffee in the mornings.” 

so that’s why he stopped asking you to make it for him. 

it’s right at that moment that satoru shuffles into the kitchen, his tie hanging around his neck, as he scoots closer to you on the chair. it’s a chaste kiss that he presses to your cheek, before eating, and you can’t help but wonder. 

was he so despondent because he had already found your replacement? 

“you have to come by an hour early today. we’re having a meeting for the chaperones.” satoru states. 

you give him a quiet nod as he leans back and you loop the knot through his tie. he gives you a glimmering smile as you tap the top of his shoulders, signaling that you’re done. 

“save me a seat?” you ask. 

“always.” 

the thought doesn’t leave your mind the entire day. 

--

you arrive thirty minutes early, an overly sweet coffee in your hand as a gift for satoru, as you make your way over to his classroom. the hallways are quiet, sparsely decorated lockers, as you turn the corner and enter his classroom. 

only to find an absence of snow white hair and miwa excitedly scribbling on the board instead. 

you knock on the door twice, watching as miwa turns over with a sickly sweet smile, and strolls over to where you’re standing. 

“y/n. it’s so great to see you!” she states, wrapping her cold arms around you as she gives you an awkward embrace. 

you spare her a polite smile. 

“you too. how is tsumiki doing?” 

“she aced her spelling test. she ran all the way over here to show satoru her result and took a whole picture with us to celebrate.” 

satoru. you wondered when they had pranced into first name basis territory. if miwa ran over here with tsumiki each time, and how many pictures the three of them had taken together.  

“that’s sweet. thank you for helping her out, that means a lot.” you respond. 

“and thank you! you’re so sweet for helping with the dance. i know how busy you’ve been.” 

you pause. 

“what do you mean?” 

“satoru just mentioned to me a few times that you guys haven’t had any time to yourself because of how busy you are.” 

so he was talking about you to her too? 

“yeah. things have been hard to adjust to with the kids and all and i’ve been putting in more hours at work to pay for the karate and piano classes and all that. but he understands.” 

she slightly twitches her eye. you wonder if she does it on purpose. 

“oh, of course he does. you’re doing very important work.” 

you swallow hard. 

“you too.” you respond. 

“i mean, it’s just so rewarding. especially getting to be so close with students like tsumiki, after she lost her family so suddenly. i couldn’t imagine.” 

you sigh. 

“i mean. she lost her dad, but she still has a family.” 

“of course she does! you’re putting in a great effort –” 

it’s right at that moment that satoru walks in, eyes wide as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. you can still feel the tenseness simmering under your skin, misplaced anger for him festering in your head, as you offer him the drink.. 

“for me? you shouldn’t have.” satoru responds, exaggerating by placing a hand over his chest. 

you shake your head as satoru wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you to one of the desks right at the front. he shakes the coffee in front of you, as you deny the offer and lean forward on your chin. 

“miwa and i are leading the meeting so i can’t sit with you. but i told shoko and suguru to sit right next to you, which is basically the same thing.” 

you smile. 

“shoko looks just like you! i can barely tell the difference.” you deadpan. 

“don’t go kissing her now.” 

“i make zero promises.” 

satour gives you a glimmering grin. 

right at that second, there’s three consecutive knocks at the door, accompanied with a set of spiky black hair at the door slightly peeking into the room. 

“you can come in megumi.” satoru responds. 

megumi drops his backpack at the door, fast steps dragging him to where you and satoru are sitting. he taps impatiently on your thigh, gesturing for you to pick him up, as you secure him into your lap and rest your head on top of his. 

“always interrupting our alone time, aren’t you kid?” satoru jokes. 

“and why are you not in class?” you ask. 

“it’s passing period.” miwa answers. 

you turn your head to where she’s standing – chalking assignments onto the board – as megumi sneers, giving her a very steady glare. 

“why are you not in your class?” megumi asks. 

“i’m leading the meeting with mr. gojo for the dance.” 

“isn’t that meeting in twenty minutes? why are you here early?” 

you lightly nudge megumi in the side, taken aback by his tone, as you turn towards miwa and giving her a polite smile. 

“he doesn’t mind, he’s just not feeling well. please feel free to stay.” you respond. 

“i was planning to.” miwa responds. 

you ignore the strange response as you lightly tug at megumi’s ear, whispering in a hushed tone. 

“i do mind.” megumi mumbles. 

“well, you don’t tell people that. she isn’t doing anything, so just pretend like she’s not there.” 

you sigh, turning to satoru and frowning. you know he gets the message, as he leans forward and pinches at megumi’s cheek. 

“you’ve got to stop giving y/n so much stress, kid. she’s going to get an ulcer at this point.” satoru states. 

“i could say the same thing to you.” megumi responds, in a matter-of-fact tone. 

satoru looks up at you, a shadow of a smile on his face, as he crosses his arms over his chest and questions megumi. 

“oh yeah? and how am i stressing her out, huh?” 

“you have another wife.” megumi states. 

you pinch at megumi’s elbow. 

“another wife? i didn’t even realize that i had one to begin with.” satoru responds. 

you give satoru a smile. 

“tsumiki said that miss miwa is your work wife. and y/n doesn’t like that because she should be your only wife.” 

satoru’s eyes widen, as he dramatically places a hand over his chest, before dropping to his knees and looking up at you. 

“y/n, if you wanted me to marry you, you should have just said so. i’ll marry you right here, right now.” 

you snort, turning to megumi, as you whisper in his ear. 

“he’s completely crazy, right?” you ask. 

“absolutely. i think you should cut your losses. you could do way better.” 

satoru spares you a laugh, before reaching for megumi and tickling at his sides. 

“you should cut your losses, kid. i’m revoking dessert privileges for attempted coercion” 

megumi looks up at you, eyes expectant as he waits for corroboration. you shake your head, which earns you a playful smile from megumi, as he looks over at satoru and sticks his tongue out. 

“oh come on. we’re supposed to be a team.” satoru whines. 

“you haven’t pledged your allegiance. you and tsumiki ganged up on me the other night.” 

“well, we had a valid reason. we should definitely get ice cream after dinner.” satoru states. 

“not when it’s a school night and they have to wake up early next the day. you don’t want them to be late to class. again.” 

satoru sighs, before placing his hands on his hips. 

“speaking of class, you should be getting to yours. c’mon megs, i’ll walk you. say bye to y/n.” 

you crouch down on your knees, giving megumi a pinch on the cheek, as he glares at you. he sticks his hand out, the tow of you doing your complicated and convoluted handshake, before megumi and satoru stroll out of the classroom. 

“your relationship with megumi is very sweet.” miwa states. 

you had almost forgotten she was there. you turn your head to find that she’s seated at satoru’s desk, pulling up slides for the projector on the computer, as you awkwardly rub your sweaty palms together. 

“thank you. he’s just a little shy, that’s all. he didn’t mean to be rude earlier.” you state. 

miwa hums in response. 

“i hope you aren’t upset about the work wife thing. it was just a silly little inside joke that satoru, tsumiki, and i had come up with.” 

you narrow your eyes at her. 

“just because we spend so much time together. lunch, the development workshops, and emailing in between classes. we’re like attached at the hip so we just joked that we were married. but no foul play, of course.” 

you sigh. then why did she feel the need to bring it up to you? 

“of course.” you respond. 

“i’m so glad that we could clear this up. i would hate to think you’re upset with me.” 

you give her a nod, turning your head to the door as shoko and suguru trickle in, wide smiles on their faces as they turn to greet you. 

it leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

--

three days later, you’re thirty minutes late to the meeting for the school dance. leaving the hospital late because the next nurse wasn’t there to get her report on time, getting stopped by every stoplight on the way to school, and circling three times for parking. 

you sneak into the gymnasium, quietly making your way to the tables in the corner where suguru and shoko are seated, only to be stopped by a shrill voice in the air. 

“y/n?” 

you turn on your heel, giving miwa a clenched smile, as you feel your heart sink into your stomach. 

did she need to look so perfect all the time? 

“i thought that was you.” 

“right, i apologize for being late. i was caught up with –” 

“we were wondering where you were. they’ve been making such slow progress on the little take home favors that i was considering pulling satoru from doing the streamers with me because of it.” 

the first name. again. 

“right, it’s just that i was –” 

“i do hope you can come on time to actually chaperone for the dance. that would be a disaster since we need to have a certain adult to child ratio to be in line with the district. you will come on time, right?” 

“yes, i took –” 

“good. i know that your job is important, but ours is too, you know? granted, you leave satoru’s kids here every day, and spending all day with them is just as demanding as working at a hospital.” 

you sigh. 

“satoru’s kids?” you ask. 

she gives you a smile. 

“what?” 

“you said satoru’s kids.” you clarify. 

“and?” 

you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling burning hot tears in your eyes, as you look up at her. 

“they’re my kids too.” 

“right, of course they are. you know i didn’t mean that.” 

you sigh. 

“honest mistake.” 

you feel two hands on your shoulder, accompanied by a squeeze and the distinct smell of satoru’s cologne in your ears. 

“hi sweetheart. you smell like bleach.” 

“oh my god. i thought that was just me.” miwa responds, accompanied with a laugh. 

you bite down on your cheeks. 

“i was sanitizing the gurney. because our patient bled all over it.” 

“don’t bring up blood. miwa here is going to start vomiting.” satoru jokes. 

miwa leans forward, lightly shoving in his side, as he shoves right back. 

“oh shut up. you feel the same way whenever i eat my fried rice.” 

“the smell of soy sauce makes my stomach hurt.” 

“god, you’re so weird, toru.” miwa responds. 

you clear your throat, as the two of them look over at you with expectant eyes. satoru eyes hold no weight of suspicion or guilt in them – really nothing at all – and it makes your stomach hurt. 

“i’ll be back. i just have to use the bathroom.” 

“don’t get lost!” miwa responds, as you trudge your way down the hallway, dragging your feet against the floor. 

you can feel the frustration building up in your chest.

the annoying part? you do end up getting lost. 

you sit on the bench outside one of the classrooms, hiking your knees to your chest, as you press your forehead against your legs. it’s not long before you feel three taps on top of your head, only to look up and find suguru standing in front of you. 

“miwa sent out a search party for you. she thought you might have gotten lost.” 

you sigh. 

“she works fast, doesn’t she?” 

suguru snorts as he takes the seat next to you, digging into his pocket and digging out a lollipop. he holds it out to you, giving you an encouraging smile as you snatch it from his hand, and unrawp it. 

“i thought you were going to offer me a cigarette.” 

“i’m saving those for the night of the dance. i only use those when necessary.” 

you laugh. 

“save half of them for me. i’ll need those every time miwa decides to come over and talk to me.” 

you lean back, sticking your head against the ridge of the window pane, as you immediately regret what you just said. 

“sorry. i don’t mean to talk bad about her, i know she is your coworker and all but –” 

“but she’s just so fucking annoying?” 

you pause, leaning forward as you lower your voice. 

“it’s not just me?” you whisper. 

“you’re in a very large majority, y/n. she’s just…too much for some people.” 

you frown. 

“not for satoru. i don’t know if you heard, but she’s his work wife.” 

suguru winces. 

“you heard about that?” 

“i’m slightly offended that you did and didn’t tell me right away.” 

“didn’t seem like a good time. satoru was mentioning that you guys were kind of going through a rough patch.” 

you pause. 

“a rough patch?” 

“are you not?” 

“i mean, we haven’t spent time alone together, since we’re still getting used to the whole kids thing. i didn’t realize that he was telling you and miwa it was a rough patch. or that he was telling you and miwa anything.” 

suguru leans back, placing a hand on your shoulder, as you pause – pondering over the thoughts, of every little detail that you had noticed. the nicknames, the lunches, the emails – maybe they were more serious than you had originally believed. 

it eats at you when you and surugu eventually drag your legs back to the gymnasium. and as you make the little party favors, it’s the only thing that you can focus on. 

that satoru holds onto her ankle to steady her when she stands on the ladder, that they have a secret handshake, that in the time that he didn’t spend with you, she was the one that was filling the space.  

--

“we’re out of toilet paper. and dish soap. and if you’re going anyways, you should probably get laundry detergent.” satoru states. 

he shuffles into the bathroom quietly, yanking his shirt over his head as he gestures for you to scoot over, reaching for his toothbrush in the cup. 

“megumi also said that we shouldn’t eat spaghetti again. he’s starting to get really picky with what he eats.” 

you sigh. 

“i’ll get more chicken nuggets when i go then.” you respond. 

satoru turns his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at you, as he sticks the toothbrush into the side of his teeth. 

“are you good?” 

“hm?” 

“are you okay?” 

you shake your head, reaching forward to spit the leftover toothpaste in your mouth, as you reach for the mouthwash. 

“yeah, yeah.” 

“miwa said that you looked really exhausted when you left. said she was worried about you.” satoru responds. 

“i’m sure that she is.” you respond, noting that you can’t control the bitterness in your voice. 

“hm?” 

you sigh, slamming the cup down on the granite countertop, as you turn to him. 

“do you always talk about me with your female coworkers? or is it just her?” 

“what?” 

you turn to glare at him. 

“do you always discuss the grievances you have about me with miwa? about how i don’t have time for you, about how we’re going through a rough patch, and everything in between?” 

satoru looks confused. you swear there’s a sense of irritation in his demeanor which wasn’t unexpected. he was defensive to his core. 

“no. i don’t. but she’s just a friend. i just mentioned it to her here and there because she asked.” 

“and why does she feel the need to ask about your relationship with me? that’s not normal. especially when she clearly likes you so much.” 

satoru glares right back. 

“are you insane? she doesn’t like me.”

“oh so now i’m insane. yeah, it’s totally normal for her to walk around pretending like the two of you are married and telling me that my kids aren’t actually mine and they’re just yours.” 

satoru scoffs. 

“oh come on. there’s no way that she said that.” 

you scoff. 

“so you believe her over me?” 

“she wouldn't say that.” 

“and you think i’m making it up? why the hell would i do that?” 

satoru slams the toothbrush down on the counter, before leaning forward and sneering at you. 

“because you want to blame me for what’s happening with us when it’s really you.” 

you feel your heart drop in your chest. 

“it’s me?” 

“you work too much. you…every time you come home, you don’t even look at me. it’s all about how megumi’s being too picky with what he eats and tsumiki is getting too attached to her friends. those aren’t problems, and even if they are, you’re the one making them worse.” 

you can feel your chest aching from the inside out. 

“you were the one who told tsumiki that the hurt would go away if she was with her friends. she obviously is so obsessed with being around them all the time because she thinks that it’ll go away if she’s with them all the time. because you told her that. and megumi’s so spoiled and picky because you’re the one who tolerates every little thing he says. just because he asked you to sleep in his bed, it doesn’t mean you have to do it every time. you have to let him do some things on his own.” 

you glare. 

“and what about you, huh?” 

“what about me?” 

“since i clearly do everything so wrong, i must have been the one who pushed you right into her, didn’t i?” 

satoru pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“you know what, maybe you did.” 

you look down at your hands, reaching down at the little scab on your finger as you angrily scratch at it, ignoring the bright red that starts leaking out of your finger. you look down at the ground, at your mismatched socks, as you barely choke the words out. 

“maybe i should just leave then.” 

satoru’s face drops. 

“what?” 

if satoru was defensive, you were proud. 

“i’ll do you a favor and leave. tsumiki won’t get horrible advice, megumi won’t get coddled, and you…you won’t be disappointed because i won’t be here to do it.” 

satoru immediately melts, reaching forward for your wrist, the grasp hard on your arm. 

“peach. don’t be like that. you know i -”  

“know you don’t mean it? because i had a sneaking suspicion that you…that you had been thinking that for weeks.” you whisper, noting the crack in your voice. 

you ball your hand into a fist, jerking your hand out of his grasp. 

“i don’t know what to say to tsumiki because…because i’ve never done this before. i don’t work with kids like you do and i just said what i was thought was best. it breaks my heart to say no to megumi because i’m scared he won’t even try to sleep if i don’t sit there with him. i know it scares him because toji was asleep when he died and…and sometimes i think he’s scared he’ll wake up and we’ll be gone too. and….and i don’t mean to neglect you but this entire thing is exhausting. i thought you were the one thing that would stay because i could trust you.” 

“hey. of course you can trust me.” 

“i’ve had enough, satoru. there’s…there’s nothing you can say to take back what you just said. you…you’re talking about another girl.” 

satoru leans forward, placing both hands around your face, and squeezing hard. you note the slight glisten in his eyes. 

“don’t say that.” he whispers. 

“i’m going to leave.” you murmur. 

all you want is him. 

“and go where? we….we’re all here.” 

“i’ll stay with shoko. just for a few days before we figure something out.” 

“you…you can’t be serious, right?” 

you’re not. 

“i’ll still come to the dance since i promised you that. i’ll see you then, okay?” you state. 

you’re not sure what makes your heart sink more. the fact that he said what he did or that he let you leave without chasing after you. 

--

satoru notes that it’s a day and a half of chaos without you. and that he really hates it when you’re not around. 

he doesn’t know how to iron tsumiki’s dress for the dance or do her hair. megumi won’t eat the pasta he made because it’s not the way that he likes it and he’s almost positive that you were right – that he really wouldn’t sleep through the night just because you weren’t there.  

that without noticing it, you felt like the glue that kept everyone together. that tsumiki and megumi didn’t stress him out, only because you seemed to take care of that for him – used to fix everything perfectly, like a soothing bandaid on every issue that they had. that sleeping next to you used to seep the stress out of his joints, the sweet smell of your shampoo lulling him to sleep. 

that he needed you around because he was scared to be without you. 

“shoko.” 

“yeah?” 

“can you do me a favor?” 

satoru sighs, as he turns over to her. 

“i did tsumiki’s hair all shitty because i didn’t know how to do it. can you go fix it because i can tell she’s lying when she says she likes it?” 

“why didn’t y/n do it?” suguru asks. 

satoru pinches his lips together. you were upset that he was sharing your relationship details with other people. which is why he was determined to not do it again. 

“she’s coming in from work.” 

“god. when does she sleep?” suguru murmurs, as she walks across the room and gestures for tsumiki to come over to her. 

satoru can’t help but feel miserable. only because he didn’t know the answer to the question. and that he was the only one that was so painfully blind to how tired you were. 

“did you and y/n fight it out then?” he asks. 

“what? no.” 

suguru’s eyes widen. 

“she’s got balls of steel. i can’t believe one person can have that much patience.” 

“what are you talking about?” 

“the stuff that miwa said to her. i figured she’d ask you to stop talking to her or scale back a little.” 

satoru looks over, hands hard on his shoulders, suddenly too interested with the conversation. 

“what did she tell you?” 

“i mean…i don’t know. she said you and miwa were talking about how she smells like bleach? and the whole work wife thing, that megumi and tsumiki aren’t her kids.” 

satoru can hear the blood rushing through his ears. 

“what?” 

“yeah. she didn’t mention it? she was pretty upset about it the day we all came here to set up, especially since work can be so demanding and all that.” 

“she said that megumi and tsumiki aren’t her kids?” 

“yeah. seemed pretty hurt by it. think it was the second time too.” 

satoru stands eagerly by the table, switching the clipboards in their spots two, three, four times as he waits for the last thirty minutes to run out. until you had to show up, because you promised that he would. 

and surely enough, five minutes before it hits the time, he hears a shrill voice from the stage, followed by the sound of thundering footsteps. 

“y/n!” 

satoru looks to his left, watching as megumi and tsumiki both excitedly run into your open arms, limbs wrapped around your legs as you reach down and soothe through both of their hair. he can’t help but trail up to where the three of you are standing, chest aching wholeheartedly, as he watches. 

“did you miss me?” you ask. 

“so much. gojo put butter in the pasta. and he spilled all the detergent softener in the laundry room so the smell gives us a headache.” 

he notes that you frown at the mention of his name. 

“and he did my hair all weird. shoko was trying to fix it, but i couldn’t find the clips that we were going to use to match the dress.” 

“don’t worry. i swung by the house and grabbed them, they were in my drawer.” 

“where did you go?” megumi asks. 

you smile. 

“sorry for leaving so abruptly, kiddo. i was having a sleepover.” 

“adults have sleepovers?” 

“no. but i’m just cool like that.” you murmur. 

the two of them grin, laughing at your joke, as you reach forward and put your hands around their wrists. 

“satoru’s trying. don’t be so mad at him. it’s not his fault that he has the cooking intuition of a newborn baby. and he can barely do his own hair, it was kind of silly of you to expect that he could do yours.” 

satoru can’t help but laugh. but it’s the sound of his voice, he assumes, that draws your attention away, as you finally look to your left and look up at him. he can’t help but give you a halfhearted smile, one that you nod at, as you stand up. 

“i’m going to give satoru a stern talking to about butter and hairspray. i’ll come fix your hair after, okay?” 

“give him hell.” megumi responds. 

you watch as the two of them run off, before turning over to satoru and giving him a smile. it’s almost like he reaches forward to touch you, before he thinks twice and drops his hand. you look down, twisting the silver bracelet – the one that he gave you – on your wrist, as you take a deep breath. 

“you still don’t know how to do your tie.” you note. 

satoru laughs, looking down at the loose knot hanging around his neck. he can’t help but delight in the fact that you reach forward, loosening the mess he made as you properly tie it for him – the way you did every morning. 

“never learned how to do it so you’d always do it for me.” 

you stifle a laugh. 

“satoru.” 

“i can’t do anything without you, you know?” 

it feels like he’s talking about more than just the tie. 

he must sense the hesitation, because he changes the topic just as fast. 

“i love the dress. you look beautiful.” 

“thank you. i bought it for our…” 

“third anniversary. i remember.” 

you smile. 

“i remember what we did after more, but…” satoru whispers. 

you reach forward and shove him. 

“we’re at a school.” 

satoru smiles. and for a split second, it feels like nothing had happened at all. 

“too much butter makes megumi’s stomach hurt. and you really should have asked me to come do her hair.” you state. 

“would you come if i asked?” 

you swallow hard. 

“hm?” 

“would you come back if i asked you to?” he asks. 

“would you even ask?” you respond. 

satoru pauses. 

“what?” 

“when i left, i…i thought that you’d chase after me. i…i wanted you to chase after me. but i understand that now things are kind of fraught between us and that you might –” 

satoru feels the regret seep through him immediately

“i was trying to give you your space.” satoru states, interrupting. 

“hm?” 

“i thought that i’d push you farther away. of course i’d chase after you.” 

“it’s so nice to see you, y/n. did you sign in?” 

you turn to your left to find miwa standing there, hair perfectly secured around her face with glittering earrings hanging from her ears. you wonder if the shade of blue her dress was intentional, if it was meant to match her eyes so perfectly, as you smile at her. 

satoru notes the horrible timing. and that he hates her dress. 

“hi miwa. you look beautiful.” 

“so do you. did you sign in and start marking the wristbands when you came in?” miwa repeats, tone insistent. 

“she was talking to me.” satoru responds, tone harsh as he responds. 

“hm?” miwa asks, tilting her head to the side in confusion as she looks up at him. 

“my girlfriend just got here. she was obviously talking to me.” satoru responds again, tone unflinching. 

you note that her eye twitches the slightest as she steps back. 

“of course. just get to it when you can, since you know, people will be here soon.” 

“i’m going over there right now actually. i’ll leave you guys to it.” 

“hey, wait. i’ll catch up with you after, miwa.” satoru responds, his hand extended as he gestures for you to wait. 

you watch as miwa shuffles away, slithering to the other side of the room, and there’s a burning, aching desire in your chest. 

to tell satoru that she wore that dress to match his eyes, for the two of you to laugh at how crazy she was. you wondered if he would even find it funny. 

“yes?” 

satoru looks down, reaching for the bag underneath the table, as he lifts it up. 

“i brought my windbreaker for you. it’s supposed to rain tonight.” satoru states. 

you smile. 

“i kind of tore apart your entire closet looking for it. and if i remember correctly, you did indeed say that it was mine now since i wore it more than you.” you admit. 

satoru smiles right back. 

“i also got you a corsage, peach. since you’re my date and all.” 

satoru pulls out a little plastic box, as you note the little white flowers encased in the baby blue ribbon. you can feel your chest aching, a burning sensation, as you reach in your own bag, pulling out the matching corsage that you had ordered a week prior. 

“you had to have cheated. did you look in my email?” you ask. 

satoru shakes his head. 

“i know you like orchids. and you’re so on the nose that you’d get one to match my eyes.” 

you shove him in the side. 

“you love that corny type of thing.” 

satoru smiles, before looking over at miwa and then back at you. 

“only when you do it.” 

you smile as you both exchange the boxes, fixing the flowers on each other, before quietly walking away from each other. 

--

you sneak away from the dance without satoru noticing. you catch the perfect moment, when satoru and miwa are stuck in an animated conversation near the dance floor, and slip through the door at the front. 

you clearly don’t go too unnoticed, because the following day, you wake up to a plethora of texts from suguru and shoko. 

[shoko]: Left for work already, but Satoru yelled at Miwa last night after you left.  

[suguru]: IT WAS BAD 

[shoko]: Did he really say that Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t your kids? That’s horrible. 

[suguru]: HE WAS LIKE YELLING OUTSIDE. GOING ON ABOUT HOW YOU’RE HIS GIRLFRIEND, HOW SHE HAD NO RIGHT TO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE SHIT, ABOUT HOW HE WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH HER 

[shoko]: Oh, by the way. He’s like still on the porch. Sat through the rain last night and everything waiting for you. Think he was pounding on the window at some point and screaming but the rain was pretty loud. 

[shoko]: Said something pathetic like he loved you or something. 

[shoko]: Anyways, I left them out there for you to deal with.

that’s the next that gets your attention. you quietly pad to the door, swinging it open to find him sitting on the ground, half asleep against his knees with the corsage crumpled in his hand. you reach down, shaking at his shoulder to lightly nudge him awake. 

“satoru. don’t tell me you sat out here in the rain.” you whisper. 

he blinks a few times, the sleep still heavily lidded in his eyes, as he reaches forward, a cold hand against your warm cheek. 

“chasing after you. not going home without you.” he mumbles. 

you sigh. 

“maybe come inside first, romeo. you’re going to catch a cold.” 

you reach for his hands, lightly pulling up, and dragging him inside as he takes a seat on one of shoko’s chairs. you crank the heater up, putting a cup of milk on the stove for hot chocolate, before shuffling back over to him – noting that he’s slightly more awake now. 

“i was knocking. and i’m pretty sure i was banging on the window at point, but i guess you didn’t hear me.” 

“the rain was loud, satoru. i would have let you in if i had known.” 

“gave you a whole spiel. it was really good too, about you know…us.” 

you smile. 

“us?” you question. 

he doesn’t laugh. 

“yeah. us. about how much i need you. how much i love you.” satoru responds. 

you note that there’s a rasp in his voice. 

“you’re getting sick, satoru.” 

“i know you don’t want me to leave. i know you want to come back.” 

you sigh. were you that obvious?

“did you yell at miwa?” 

“did she really say they weren’t your kids?” 

“maybe.” 

it’s enough to set satoru off because he’s pushing off the chair, cold hands and wet clothing pressed to your face as he envelopes you in his embrace. you can still smell the faint whisper of his cologne, the smell so sweet it makes your stomach hurt, as he clenches harder. 

“sweetheart, why wouldn’t you tell me that? i’d fucking yell at her then and there.” satoru whispers. 

you frown. 

“she’s your work wife. tsumiki like…loves her. i can’t just talk bad about her.” 

“yes. you can. you could talk shit about my dead grandmother if she pissed you off. you could tell me anything if it was upsetting you.” 

you frown. 

“and you could have told me instead of everyone you knew that we were going through a rough patch. i know that you mentioned that you were upset we didn’t have time together, but…but i didn’t realize that i was letting you down so much.” 

satoru reaches forward, titling your head up to face him. 

“you didn’t let me down. i was being….” 

“you’re just saying that because i left. if i was still there fighting with you…you…you’d have even more to say to me. about how how i worry too much, about how i don’t love you enough, about…” 

“y/n.” satoru whispers, almost whining.  

you push away from him. 

“i made you hot chocolate. i think you’re getting sick and that you should go home and rest. also shoko would hate to see you bringing your wet mess in here.” 

you push out of his embrace, tasking yourself with pouring the hot chocolate into one of her tumblers, before placing it in front of him. he ignores it entirely, reaching forward to make himself level with you. 

“you know i’ll be waiting for you. i’ll be right on the other side of the door waiting to open it if you want to come back.” 

“okay.” 

“yeah? don’t…don’t hesitate to come back home, please. it’s not home without you.” 

you give him a nod, lifting the tumbler and placing it in his hand and gesturing for the door. 

--

satoru hears three consecutive knocks not even an hour after. he all but tumbles down the stairs, nearly slipping as he reaches for the knob, to find exactly what it is that we wanted to see. 

the jacket pulled over your head, bright red eyes staring at him, and warm tears pouring out of your eyes. 

you. 

“satoru?” you mumble. 

he can feel his heart drop at the tears and the crack in your voice. 

“yes, peach?” 

you note how soft his tone is. 

“are you sick?” you ask. 

satoru smiles. 

“had a fever last i checked.” satoru responds. 

he’s not sure what it is, but it sends the tears down your eyes faster, as you all but reach forward and burrow your face into his chest. satoru returns the favor, reaching down to rest his chin on the top of your head as he rubs circles into your back. 

“it’s not cancer. i’m sure i’ll live.” 

he pauses. 

“sweet girl. what’s got you so upset?” 

satoru notes that you make no inclination of responding, as he pulls back and gestures for you to wrap your arms around his neck. he scoops his free arm around your legs, steadily carrying you up the stairs as you heave in the sweet smell of his shampoo, warm tears still landing on his more pale than usual skin. 

“are you really sick?” you ask. 

satoru spares you a quiet laugh as he sets you down on the bed, peeling the jacket from your arms before digging through the fresh laundry for your pajamas. 

“maybe take a shower first. you’ll feel better.” 

you frown as you push off the bed, your cold hands on his burning hot arms as you look up at him. this couldn’t wait. 

“i lied earlier. there’s a lot you could do to make things right.” you whisper. 

satoru smiles. 

“i know. i fully intend to do all those things too.” 

you sigh. 

“i want to stay in the rough patch. and…and even be here with you if we fight everyday. and you're sick and it breaks my hear tthat no one is here to take care of you.” 

“i have no intention of fighting with you when you’re right.” satoru responds. 

“you can’t just…” 

satoru pauses, holding his hand up. 

“i shouldn’t talk to my co-workers about you. and you…you’re right. i do think that she likes me and that’s why she’s felt the need to be so rude to you all the time. i’m sorry if it ever felt like i was siding with her, but you have to know, the only thing i really want is you.” 

satoru sighs. 

“tsumiki follows your advice so keenly because you’re so put together. she can’t really come to me with that stuff because you’re the one she looks up to. and megumi really doesn’t sleep when you’re not around, but of course, you’re the one who knows him better, who knows all of us better, to think ahead like that. and i love that you’re put together for them, but you don’t have to be for me. i want to know everything that bothers you because you…you’re my responsibility.” 

“well, i –” 

you pause. 

“i don’t want to upset you again.” 

“well, run away all you want. i’ll follow you anywhere you go. i had every intention to come wait outside of shoko’s apartment again at seven. every intention to do it every day until you came back."  

“i wouldn’t make you do that.” you respond. 

you swallow hard, before reaching for both of his hands, and lifting them to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. 

"if you don't want to upset me, don't leave again. i'll do it, but i don't want to wait outside of shoko's door for you."

“i’m proud, but not proud enough to make you wait like that. i followed you five minutes after you drove away.” 

satoru smiles. 

“i left because….because i wanted you to chase after me, just so i knew that you still wanted me. it’s immature but…” 

“no. it’s not.”  

“i just…i don’t know how to explain what i was thinking but i…” 

satoru leans forward, hands knotted behind your waist as he pulls you closer, searing warm lips pressed against yours as you lean against him. you can still taste the remnant of the chocolate on his lips, noting the cut on the right side of his lip. 

maybe you don’t have to explain at all. 

“have you been biting your lips?” you whisper, forehead flush against his as you brush your nose against his. 

“was nervous you wouldn’t come back.” he murmurs. 

you lean forward again, placing your hands on his burning hot face, as you feel the wetness spreading on his cheek. you lean back, wiping it away just as fast, before the door creaks open. 

tsumiki and megumi are standing at the door, bright smiles on their faces, as they run up and tangle themselves between your legs. you lean against satoru, running your hand through megumi’s hair as you look up at them. 

“is your sleepover over? we’re starving here without you.” 

you stifle a laugh. 

“yes. it is.” 

you and satoru crouch down, his hand steady across your waist as you pinch at both of their cheeks. satoru leans to the left to press a kiss to your cheek, an action both tsumki and megumi copy, as you lightly pull them off. 

“we missed you.” tsumiki responds. 

“i missed you more.” 

“are you happy after your sleepover? are we normal now?” megumi asks. 

always the perceptive one. 

you look over at satoru, granting him a gleaming smile. 

“yes. i am.” 

“oh thank god. satoru was getting sad too.” tsumiki responds. 

you turn over to him and grin.

“take notes, kids. happy wife, happy life.” 

--

an: ignored the voices and decided to post something! please me nice I was like fighting demons. anyways.

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[milkywaydrabbles]

8- Virginity with Alucard x virgin reader, please? I don't know if it has already been ordered. Thank you!

A/N: Tyyy for the req I haven't done this one yet! Got a little carried away with this I think, but very fun to write! Hope you like it! Mwuah

CW: Vriginity loss, pet names, that's it i think lol

Virginity x Alucard

It had been months of soft touches, sweet kisses, and promises of a loving life between you and your newfound love, Adrian Tepes. Meeting him seemed like a dream, the way he would always hold doors open for you, smile at you so lovingly, make sure you were comfortable. You’d open up to him as much as he did to you, learning each others’ deepest intimate secrets. One of which was the admittance of still being a virgin at your age. You were always nervous to divulge that information, feeling men think you prude. You just...hadn’t been interested. And all the men you’ve had the (dis)pleasure of meeting were, well, gross. Which is why when Adrian had asked to court you, you thought it was a joke. You laughed it off, giving him a ‘that’s funny, Adrian!’ before realizing he was being serious. You swore your heart stopped.

The months of courting had been the most perfect months of your life, and you were ready to take it to the next step with him. You wanted him to be your lover. “Adrian..” You found him in the study, looking at him through your lashes, bashful. He smiled that gorgeous smile at you, reaching a hand in your direction that you gladly took, guiding you to the chair next to his. “Yes, my dear? What is it?” So attentive. You steadied yourself before continuing. “I want...I want to make love.” Your red face now matched his, dropping the quill onto the desk. “That’s a big decision, giving me your virginity. Are you sure? We don’t have to discuss this now if you’re uncomfortable.” 

You took his concern as unwillingness, pout on your lips. Did he not want to...? Of course, the past he’s endured of course he wouldn’t want to. You gasped, suddenly feeling guilty. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry! I should have thought first, oh Adrian I’m--” He hushed you, taking both hands in his. “Darling, I’m more than willing to lay with you. Please make no mistake.” God, how can he just say things like that? “I want to make sure this is what you want. That you’re not doing this for me.” You squeezed his hands, “I’m sure, Adrian. I’ve never been more sure.”

So hours later, you’re underneath the Dhampir, writhing in pleasure as he suckles at your clit with a slender finger fucking into your virgin hole. “Haah, fuck. Feels so good, Adrian. B-better than my, aah, fingers” You admit to him, tugging at his hair when he sucks harder. “Hmm, how bold.” He smirks, looking up at you nosing your clit. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?” You nod, mouth open and eyes hazy as he slips another finger into your pussy, stretching you out. You looked like a goddess to him, he couldn’t believe you were gifting him something so precious as your virginity. “You’re so tight around my fingers, beloved. Relax, I’ll make you feel good.” You let out a shaky breath you didn’t realize you were holding onto, looking down at him as he continued to lick around your pussy and clit, scissoring his fingers inside of you to help stretch you for what’s to come.  “Let me hear your pretty voice, what do you think of when you finger yourself?” 

You diverted your gaze with flushed cheeks, “I-I think of you t-taking me, aah, in your bed, mmh! In your study, too, on the desk.” He waited, expectantly, working you closer to your high. He could feel it, the way you started clenching on his fingers. “In different positions! Fuck, Adrian I want to try different positions!” You couldn’t help but get louder, the way he fucked into you with his fingers felt so fucking good. You couldn’t continue speaking, only babbling how good he felt before the feeling in your tummy snapped and you came around his fingers, your cunt drooling on his digits. He slowed, letting you ride out your high and seeing that cute little hole spasm around him. “Mmm, we will darling. Later. I want to take you like you deserve right now.” He couldn’t help himself, Alucard scooped up your juices and sucked his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the delicious, sweet taste of your pussy. He could do this for hours, but that would wait too. “Are you okay, sweetheart.” You nodded, blissed out smile plastered on your face. “Mhm, keep going Adrian.” He chuckled at your impatience, “insatiable and you’ve only just gotten a taste. I’ll have my hands full with you.”

Alucard lined his cock at your hole, waiting for your approval to continue, (he thought your neck would snap at how rapidly you were nodding, eager.) “Just breathe, sweetheart, I’ll go slow.” He pushed in, so painfully slow, his breath hitching as you gasped, trying to keep a steady breath. The stretch was uncomfortable, but not painful. He’d stretched you out so nicely with his fingers that it was bearable. He paused, waiting for you to give him the okay. As kind, patient, and caring Alucard was he was losing his mind with how tight you felt around him. So warm, and wet, and eager to swallow him whole. You urged him to continue, and he didn’t take a second thought before pushing in the rest of the way, feeling how you tightened around him just by taking his entire dick. Your back arched, nails digging into his biceps with pleasure. “Adrian, please.” You whined, not sure what you were begging for. He smirked, coming down to cover your body with his and leaning on his forearms, “Whatever you want, darling.” 

Adrian pulled out to the tip, seeing you squirm before shoving his cock back into you, hearing those beautiful cries. His pace quickened, white ring forming around the base of his cock as he continued to fuck into you. Your pretty little cunt felt so good, so good that Alucard doesn’t know how he held out for so long. He feels so grateful to have you, grateful that you trust him enough for this, grateful to be buried balls deep in the tightest, sloppiest little hole. “Doing so good for me, honey, does it feel good?” He borderline teased, Adrian knew what he was doing. You nodded, frantic, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. “Yes! Yes, s’good Adrian, so good!” You babbled on, repeating how good he felt inside of you, how big he felt, to keep going. A hand came down to rub at your clit, helping you get to your second orgasm of the night. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, wanting to kiss him as you came on his cock for the first time. You wanted him to invade all of your senses, the feeling pure euphoria as he squirmed and spasmed around his length, Alucard pounding into you now. You whined into his mouth, bucking your hips through your high. 

He stuttered, pulling out at the last second and spilling himself over your stomach. The two of you stayed still as you caught your breath, Adrian slowly pulling out and moving to get you cleaned up. You stayed in his arms, peppering kisses on his face with a smile. “Thank you Adrian, it felt so good.” He sighed, relishing in your praises. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Another pause.

“Can you...not pull out next time?” You were the absolute death of him.

[willieverseetheland]

jingle bells.

spencer reid x fem!reader summary: spencer gets a little too tipsy at the office christmas party.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, language, spencer being a dork

fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers

I know christmas has been over, I just felt inspired.

wc: 1.4k

You've always loved Christmas. It wasn't the holiday itself; it was how it brought people together. Everything just feels so cozy and bright. So when Penelope asked you to help her decorate for the party, you were more than happy to do so.

Although your job can be very depressing at times, the office environment is truly amazing. Everyone is so kind. You couldn't ask for better coworkers. However, there's one fellow profiler you've grown rather close with these past few months.

Spencer Reid was one of the first people you became friends with at the BAU, other than Penelope of course. He's such a good friend, and always seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say. He notices the little things, like when you were always complaining about your feet being cold, so he bought you fuzzy socks. Or when he overheard you talking to Emily about how badly you wanted this decorative plate set for your new apartment, and he got it for you for your birthday. He's truly the best friend a girl could ever ask for. But recently you've been wondering if it's only platonic love that you feel. Could it be more than friendship? You find yourself putting extra effort into your appearance, but you just chalk it up to wanting to better yourself. You have also noticed how when you shop, you choose clothes you think he might like.

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if he feels the same way. Does he lie in bed at night thinking of your voice and laughter the way you think of him? Does he get flustered when your knees brush together during debriefs? Does he get that fluttery feeling in his stomach when you lock eyes from across the room?

Now that you're thinking about it, you really fucking like him. You feel like a teenager with a schoolgirl crush. God, how could you let this happen? You know that co-worker relationships rarely work out. But you're an adult, you can be mature about it, right?

You snap out of your daydream and realize its already 6:00. The party starts in an hour, and you only have a quarter of what you need to do done.

"Hey Penelope, think we could get some Christmas music going? I work faster with music playing!"

"It's like you read my mind y/n!"

The sound of bells fills the room and suddenly you find yourself feeling very festive. You hear Penelope humming along.

You work quickly to get the last of the lights and tinsel strung up. You wish it could look like this year-round. You check your watch. 6:53. Everyone should be arriving soon.

You hear the elevator ding and see Derek walk out with a plate full of what is most definitely store-bought cookies.

"Wow, you ladies really outdid yourselves."

"Hello Derek and thank you" you smile.

People begin to arrive one-by-one. Emily, JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. Everyone says their hellos and get settled. Some make their way to the booze faster than others.

It's 7:25 and Spencer isn't here yet. You feel a pit begin to form in your stomach. You were really hoping to see him tonight. You decide to grab yourself a drink and socialize, take your mind off of him. He'll show up eventually, right?

"Y/N! Hey! Where's your other half?" Emily chuckles and raises her eyebrows. You can tell she snuck a few shots in the elevator.

"I assume you mean Spencer. Not sure actually." So much taking your mind off of him. And what did she mean by other half? It's not that obvious right?

You scan the room, hoping to see Spencer, but you don't. However, you do catch Rossi getting rather comfortable with new forensic photographer.

You finish your drink and wander off to get another. Looking at your watch you see that it's 7:47. You're starting to feel a little hopeless. But right as you turn to rejoin the party, you see him. Those big brown eyes and fluffy hair.

"Hey Y/N, sorry I'm late. I had to go pick up some last-minute gifts."

Weight falls off of your shoulders at the sound of his voice. You feel overwhelming relief now that he's here. You had spent the last hour, or at least what felt like an hour, with your jaw clenched and a heavy feeling in your stomach. You hate feeling this way. You know you need to talk to him, but you don't want to screw up a good thing.

"It's alright Spence, I'm just glad you're here now." You give him a warm smile and place your hand on his shoulder.

He gives you his classic dorky smile in return, and you feel those all too familiar butterflies swell in your stomach.

As the night goes on, the wine flows and sounds of laughter fills the room. You stay by Spencer's side practically the whole night. Now you understand what Emily meant. You notice he's had quite a bit to drink. Definitely not more than Rossi, but more than usual. You feel like he's being more playful and affectionate as well. But you assume it's just the alcohol. You desperately hope he's flirting, but you don't want to look too far into it.

Your thoughts quickly dissolve into the air as the room goes silent and Rossi's rather loud voice announces it's time to exchange gifts. You give out your gifts and accept the ones given to you. You receive a cinnamon roll scented candle from Emily, a pair of heart shaped earrings from Penelope, a fuzzy blanket from JJ, and various trinkets and gadgets from others. Spencer hands you a slender box wrapped in shiny blue snowflaked wrapping paper.

"I wonder what this could be." You raise your eyebrow playfully and give a small laugh.

You carefully tear off the wrapping paper and open the box. Inside is a necklace with small heart shaped locket.

"Go ahead, open the locket." he has a drunken grin, and his eyes are eager.

You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Spencer from your birthday. You feel a warmth spread over your face and you can't help but smile.

"Oh my god Spencer, this is- thank you so much, really." You pull him into a tight embrace. Relishing in the feeling of his arms around you for just a moment. You pull away, smile faltering slightly.

"Would you walk with me? Outside? It's really warm in here." His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are a rosy pink. His drinks have definitely caught up with him now. No wonder he feels warm.

"Of course, are you feeling okay?" you ask with sincerity.

"Yeah, there's just a lot of noise. Just need some fresh air s'all."

You two slip out into the crisp, December night. The sky's clear so you can see the stars. Your breath creates mini clouds in the night air.

You look over at Spencer and wonder what's going on inside that brilliant brain of his. You've always been so fascinated by the way he thinks.

"You look so beautiful right now. I-I mean you always do, but in this moment you..." his voice trails off like he has more to say, but doesn't know if he should say it.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You let out a quiet laugh.

You can hear carolers singing jingle bells in the distance.

You glance up at him and see that he's looking at you. His eyes reflect the full moon. There's a sadness in his eyes but also an admiring, soft expression.

"y/n."

"Yeah, Spencer?" You place your hand on his forearm. His mouth opens and closes slightly like he doesn't know if he should say what he's about to say.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, y/n." his voice is soft and trembling ever so slightly. His eyes jump across your face, searching for a reaction.

You feel like your brain might short circuit. You're overwhelmed with emotion. You feel a sting as your eyes prick up with tears.

"Spencer, I don't know what to say." You see his smile fade and fear that may have been poor choice of words.

You decide maybe words won't do how you feel justice.

You step closer to him, placing your right hand on his cheek and the left just below his jaw. You breathe in deeply and pull his face to yours. You place a soft kiss on his lips. He then grabs the sides of your face deepening the kiss. You feel heat creeping up your neck, and the whole world feels as though it's melting away.

You pull away, catching your breath. He looks starstruck, like he can't believe what just happened. And honestly, you can't either. You almost want to ask him to pinch you.

"I love you too, Dr. Spencer Reid."

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Late Meetings (Vox x Reader)

CW: Dub con, Somnophilia, Weirdly fluffy- Rated: Adult Summary: Vox comes home from a meeting that ran late to find himself entranced by the beauty of your sleeping form, lit by nothing but the dim glow of his screen. *Technically a sequel to Home but not required reading*

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!

Vox’s shoulders sagged as he walked through the too brightly lit hallway. It was always lit to the extreme, no matter the time of day, chasing away any shadows enemies could hide within. The result was a cold sterility that couldn’t be banished no matter the warm pinks and purples that made up Vee tower’s distinctive decor. 

Without looking at a clock, there was no way for anyone to know it was nearly one past midnight. Vox didn’t need to look at his watch to know that. His software kept perfect time, regardless of if he wanted to lose track of the minutes or hours. The result was his aggravation growing as the meeting ran longer by the hour. 

Deep dread quickly replaced that aggravation. It was supposed to be an early night. He had promised you he would be home before it was too late. You had planned a special dinner, a night in with wine and music and once again, his inability to say no to his work ruined things. 

He didn’t know why you put up with him. You deserved so much more than a man married to his company. 

Vox placed his hand against the plate, letting his clawed handprint scan and grant him entry to the modest apartment. Every time he tried to upgrade you, you turned him down. Though you and Vox had been dating for almost a year now, you refused to hold his status above others. 

You insisted on working, spending your hours behind your VoxTek issued laptop and spending your nights in the VoxTek employee apartment issued to you. He had tried to waive your rent at least, but the first month the payment didn’t withdraw from your account, you had walked the cash right up to his office and put it on his desk. 

Unlike the hallway, the apartment was shrouded in a deep darkness. Every light was off, except for the small light above the kitchen island. As he closed the door behind him, Vox dimmed the screen that made up his face. You had made plenty of adjustments while learning to live and love a man whose face was essentially an all in one computer screen, but you drew the line at the bright blue light blinding you in the darkness. 

Fear jolted through him as he picked up the note sitting on the counter. It was baseless; he knew even before he read the words, but that did nothing to stop the dread from rooting in his heart for those few seconds. You always left him a note when he was expected but didn’t make it before bed. 

As expected, you had put up his plate for him, hoped he would have good news from the meeting, and wished him goodnight. He was tired, more than anything. There wasn’t another thought spared to the food sitting in the fridge. 

What Vox wanted was to wrap his arms around you, nestle you against his side as he caught what few hours of sleep he could. He flipped off the light, using the dim blue light of his screen to see his way through the hall. While he walked, he pulled the tie from around his neck, letting it fall to the ground. 

He toed his shoes off as he approached the door, left cracked open. Clawed fingers worked the buttons down his shirt free. He was thankful he skipped the vest tonight, leaving him with fewer layers to shed as he drew closer to the bed. 

He stood for a moment, wearing nothing but his boxers and look in your sleeping form. One day, he would be brave enough to ask you what you had done that got you sentenced to an afterlife in hell. Until then, he would enjoy the delusion that you had done nothing to deserve the punishment. 

He slipped into the bed after letting his boxers fall to the ground. There were sweatpants in the dresser, but he was too tired to bother with them tonight. All he wanted was to hold you. 

Clawed fingertips caressed your arm, urging you to cuddle closer to him. You were so pretty, turning into him as soon as you felt the weight of his body in the bed with you. Though you were not a moth demon, Vox thought your sleeping form was drawn to the dim light of his screen in much a similar way. 

Vox settled onto his side, propping his torso up on an elbow as he watched you sleep. Fingers caressed up your thighs, taking in the feeling of you. He could spend decades with you and not grow tired of the feeling of your soft skin under his hands.

Higher and higher, his hand caressed absently, running under the silky fabric of her nightgown. Everything about you was so soft to the touch. Before he realized it, his hand was ghosting over the curve of your hips. 

He was suddenly aware of the fact that you had nothing on under the nightgown. It was more than just the dinner you had planned for your evening with him he missed out on. 

You sighed in your sleep, shifting slightly onto your back. Vox hadn’t intended to allow his hand to wander, but your shift of position had his hand grazing over your pubic mound. If his fingers were there, he may as well feel a little more of what he missed out on… right? What harm was there in that?

Vox ran his fingers along your slit, parting your folds and running a cold claw over the delicate nub of nerves nested just within the head of the folds. It took only a few strokes to have your legs falling apart and your breath coming in soft pants. Slick gathered at your opening as he worked through your folds again and again. 

“Vox,” you breathed his name in your sleep, eyes fluttering behind closed eyelids. 

A grin spread across his screen as he listened to her call out his name. Even in your sleep, you were so loyal to him. It was he that you dreamed of, even after he ruined your date night in with his meeting. 

He loved you more than he dared to tell anyone, including you. Sure, he had said it, but those three little words paled to communicate the depth of the feeling. 

You shifted again, legs spreading more as your hips rocked. It wasn’t his intention, but he found his long claw tipped finger slipping into your opening. Wet heat encased his finger, drawing it deeper and deeper. 

It had been his intention to only admire you and now he was knuckles deep into your wet cunt. You stroked you from the inside out, listening to the most relaxing song. Under the blankets, his cock twitched, standing hard and firm as it demanded attention. 

He had to shift, sitting up so he could wrap his other hand around his shaft, pumping his fist along his length. Need won out over respect for you as Vox pulled his fingers from his sensitive length.

He pulled the blankets up off your body and slotted himself between your spread legs. You accommodated his positioning easily, though you were clearly still asleep. Vox ran the head of his cock through your slick folds as he folded himself over you. 

He sighed as he sank slowly into you, letting your wet heat swallow him inch by inch. Each roll of his hips was lazy, not seeking anything more than the warmth and comfort of being within the woman he loved. Holding himself over your sleeping form, he watched as your lips parted, breathy moans filling the room lit only by his screen. 

“Fuck,” Vox whispered as he sank into you again, “fuck, I love you.” 

Your leg ran up the outside of his as your eyebrows scrunched together. He could feel you fluttering around his cock as he continued to slowly work into you. Your back arched as his cock ran along that spongy place inside of you that made you gasp his name just like you did now in your sleep. 

“Love you so much, dollface.” Vox whispered as your hand lazily ran up his arm, sleep and wakefulness battling. “Don’t fuckin deserve you. You’re so fuckin good to me. Fuck.” 

Your arms wrapped around his torso as you nuzzled into his chest, coming more and more awake as your orgasm built. He could feel how close you were, core flittering stronger. 

“Welcome home,” you whispered, voice breathy as you blinked sleepy eyes up at the too bright screen of the man you loved. 

Welcome home. That thought had his balls tightening, orgasm sneaking up on him. He was home, he realized. It didn’t matter where he was; he was home when he was buried within you. You were home. 

You came with a soft moan and quivering muscles. The waves of contractions through your core pulled his orgasm from him, seed spiling into your core with more force than his thrusts. His neck struggled to support his heavy screen, letting it fall to rest against your forehead. 

In the morning, he’d be annoyed at the oily smear from your skin, but at the moment it was just another way to be close to you. Reaching down, he held your hip in place as he rolled to the side, taking your body with him. 

“I’m sorry for waking you,” he whispered as you nestled into his chest. Your core fluttered with the aftershocks of your orgasm around his softening cock. 

“I love you too,” you whispered into his chest, sleep quickly reclaiming you. 

You may not have agreed to move into the penthouse. You may not indulge in the luxurious life your boyfriend could give you, would give you in a heartbeat. Your apartment was small, with comfortable furniture that was worn down with use, but coming home to it and the woman inside was the best part of Vox’s days. 

[vampiretendencies]

throw another stone at a glass house

request/summary; your writing literally gives me life. love it sm <3 would you be able to do something where jj and the reader get into an argument at dinner but they have a rule to never go to sleep mad at each other?

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings; fluff & angst, maybe a bit suggestive

authors note; love loved writing this anon :,) pls continue to send in requests ! gif creds to owner

His cured blood was boiling— searing even.

Eatery being complacent, fairy bulbs roped neatly and whimsically throughout the establishment. Fake plastic plant leaves braided about the paneled open roof. The trimming on the tables simplistic and clothed white, any other vibrancy would clash with the modern elegance that was being established. Clammer from steel trays and the mouthy Kooks that JJ was rubbing elbows with.

His attire is classy to fit his false image— dapper wrinkle-free black button up: buttons done up until the narrowing of his chest, not too revealing, not too Pogue-like. Arms broad and fibrous, giving quite the show whilst they bulged and unbulged with every movement he made. Grey slacks, steamed specifically for this event, an absolute fool as to not recognizing himself cleaned up so pleasantly.

The amount of meals he missed simply for this one meal, to scrimp and scrape pennies together merely to see a joyous picture-perfect smile planted on your face.

And he hadn’t told you he was doing so, but for about around a month now he’s been saying ‘Got a special night for us in the works baby.’

You knew it was tonight and you knew the address.

It wasn’t a familiar one, no, the both of you, Pogues, and not having heard of such a lavish restaurant. Hell, JJ was even awestruck himself when he stepped foot in the door.

But to him it was showing you a glimpse into the future with him. The life he would scavenge to define, to escape the one he’s living in now.

Full Kook.

But, nevertheless a Pogue at heart.

With that being said, he cannot fathom as to why you wouldn’t be here.

As to why you wouldn’t be here basking in the night, with him.

As to what could possibly be any more revelation, right here.

“Sir, are you ready to order yet?”

The same lanky waiter, with a nasal like voice spoke— and the irritation of it made JJ’s skin crawl. His class bow tie, with upheld posture was something JJ cut his eyes at, interrupting his thoughts as he already done prior.

“I told you no the past three times, didn’t I?”

JJ bit back at the man, partially because he’d been to JJ’s table all those times within the span of twenty minutes, not to mention prior to when he’d arrived two hours ago. The waiters mouth turns up in disgust.

“M’waitin’ for my girl, alright?”

He proceeds to add, confirming again to not come back unless he proclaimed he was ready. A kind way of saying ‘fuck off’.

“We cannot continue to keep holding your table this long, there are other people waiting to eat.”

“I’ll call her.”

The waiter clicks his tongue, spinning on his heels to the rest of his section to serve. And JJ presses your contact in his phone, as he did thirty six calls ago— to be exact.

Pitiful, going straight to voice mail, beating organ falling straight to his half-cut boot clad feet.

Pissed, seeing to it that he should be. All this money, all this devotion, only for it to go to waste due to you not being on time?

JJ would give his soul away not feel this.

On the verge of flipping over this table and making a scene just for shits and giggles, or to cope.

The reason you were late was anonymous to him. A slumber took over you, sleeping in later than usual after work, exhausted in that shared apartment. Forgetting to charge your phone, all events that pushed you farther and farther behind. Remnants leaving you pressed to get ready for the event, all whilst having to catch a ride from Kie.

One would probably wonder why JJ simply didn’t wait for you to get ready and just drive you to the surprise himself. He was too adamant, prying on the idea that, even appearance would be a remembrance factor.

Small heels colliding with cement in a clack sound, digits on the iron knob studying the building once more, to assure yourself this location was right.

Pulled straight out of a dream.

And you prodded on the thought of JJ affording this, the effort that went into it. Wondering why he thought he had to spend so much just on you, yet impressed with your boyfriend— if only you knew the sheer devastation upon him.

The red lacey satin of your dress was enough to turn heads and you did just that, strutting whimsically to the front podium to be sat at the table with JJ. Every Kook eye studied you, but you spotted one head of hair in particular. Sat in a dainty wooden chair that caused his back to be turned to you.

Numerous round tables, purely yearning for just that one.

That one with the unearthly being; light locks dancing over his features, and a jawline fierce enough to cut paper.

The one that’s battling with himself as to wether or not to make a big deal out of this, the moment he saw you next.

Little did he know you were feet away, gawking at him and the entirely ethereal gesture he did for you.

Jesus, he looks so fucking hot.

Dapper.

Heat growing on his neck whilst he feels a shadow standing over him, he continues to play with the given metal utensils in front of him.

Perhaps the knife grazing past his fingertips, would pain much less than the ache of disappointment surging in him.

He almost, turns to face the shadow preparing to tell the waiter off. But as his sense receptors fill with that familiar warm vanilla scent ...

He doesn't.

He doesn't because he knows it's you.

And he's gathering himself for the argument that's about to ensue.

Did JJ want to fuss and fight with you?

Absolutely not, he avoids confrontation at any given moment.

However, he is also human and can only take so much.

Your graceful hand stretches over his flexed back, tensing up at a touch that would normally lull him away into no tomorrow. Blue orbs daggering into your figure overtop his eyelashes, clearing his throat at your presence. Your chair scratched along the patterned wooden floor, a notion JJ always does; pulling your chair out.

This time, you do it with no complaints; declaring to avoid the subject at hand. Acknowledging that you were in deep shit with your lover.

That exact lover teaching you so: deny, deny, deny.

And God, that dress is hugging you so tight his hairs stand up on his neck. Alluring and sensual.

If he wasn't so fucking livid, he'd rile himself up enough to temper delicate, mouth-biting, love marks to your neck.

Over

And over

Again.

Until he got his fill.

You're supposed to be mad at her, JJ thought to himself.

"Hi, J!"

His insides rumbled as if he ate sour food.

But, no food would be eaten tonight.

"Hey."

His tone laced with malice and defeat. The worse kind of greeting, not the usual 'baby' or 'pretty girl' attached to it.

Then you knew were in for it.

"Thank you for tonight, s'so pretty baby."

Reading you, he knew you were probably thinking how he managed to get a table here. But something this polite, it was uncalled for to ask such a question.

"Yeah, it was prettier earlier."

He muttered under his breath, with his face contorting into a frown. Across the table yet so far away, the bright light of the eatery highlighting his cheek bones so handsomely. And you longed for him to be, himself.

"What'd you say?"

His words unclear, he was someone that usually has a voice prominent enough to hear from miles away; so it couldn't have been anything loving.

"Nothin'."

Accent think and harsh, eye contact here and there, though it wasn't anything promising.

"Gonna' have to fix your face J, it might ruin the night."

You gasped out a laugh, but to JJ it wasn't fucking funny.

If he wanted to glower, then he'd do so and he meant it.

How dare you joke about something he busted his ass to do, money that could've been enough to pay the apartments rent that month.

He thought you were being ungrateful and that you didn't appreciate him.

First you were behind time, and now you're laughing in his damn face beating around the obvious bush that was weighing him down.

And he can't help himself.

"No ... you ruined the Goddamn night!" He spat, voice broad and demanding, through grit teeth. Knowing that if he spoke any louder the couple would be asked to leave.

He's disgusted with you for being so careless with his feelings.

A night that was supposed to be filled with desperate, needy touches, and bellies full of the finest food; JJ could find it coming to a halt.

You grew ansty in your seat at his remark, lungs missing air and guilt replaced it.

Remorse entering your features.

Falling apart at the cause of his disfunction being you.

"I didn't mean to, JJ."

You reach for his hand across the table, veins apparent and digits long; in effort to console him for your mishap of being extremely late. And he lets you interlock your finger with his upsettingly, though he waited for that same touch all night; unable to deny any touch from you.

To get his point across, he lets go.

"But, you did."

He corrected you with a tilt of his head, replacing your missing fingers with a comb through his hair.

"I-I overslept after work ... and-"

"That's such bullshit. Do you know how many long hours I worked for tonight? Just for you to not be here?"

The palm of his hand slams against the table, drawing the attention of the couple next to the two. You hurriedly shush him, bringing his anger back down to earth.

"M'trying to say sorry JJ."

Both sets of eyes glare at eachother as if in competition, and JJ's stomach whirls.

"I don't want a sorry, I wanted you to be here."

"Well ... well, I'm here now. We can still order, J."

You try again but ultimately fail.

"M'not sitting here with you and pretending like everything's 'dandy', when you fucked everything up."

His words were cold and emotionless. You search for everything to say, but all that JJ said clarified it for you. Your sullen heart thumped, salty tears brimming at corners of your eyes.

Making you feel small.

Fighting to prevent them, so you didn’t fall apart in the middle of this restaurant.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

He wasn’t cruel, not enough away, to leave you here with no way back to the shared home.

No matter how big the fight or the cause of it, it always left JJ wondering if you still besotted him the way he did you.

He wondered why, altogether going with the fact that nothing was ever permanent in his life,

Did you still crave him— on your lips, in your lungs, and beneath your skin?

One way to describe the ride home was— sickeningly tense.

Amid his rage, his hand clutches the wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. Stealing glances at you, hoping you didn’t hate him. Neither of them able to etch a sentence, whilst the radio played and you sat turned with your knees to the door staring out of the window.

Oddly close enough to your position now.

On the edge of your side of the bed. Admiring JJ peel off his pants and unbutton his shirt, leaving them aimlessly on the carpeted floor— stripped down to his only boxers.

You’d thought you wouldn’t get much comfort tonight, being that he avoided even still after arriving home. Mustering a ‘gonna’ pick up the kitchen’, knowing full well it was only to an excuse to not be up under you while you both were overstimulated and on edge. Leaving you to get the bed ready and practice your night time routine. That’s why you are in the pajama attire of JJ’s t-shirt, his musk still attached to it.

His flesh on fire, conscious that you were boring at him.

‘When you fucked everything up,’ stung your chest and tainted your mind.

Reflecting, he’d wished he would’ve cut you some slack.

His baby, that he hoped for on nights when he had no one.

He baby, that he hoped for on every shooting star.

His baby, that he hoped for in a crowd of people.

His baby.

There was this rule book.

This rule book, was true and real, and contained all the expectations you and JJ had for eachother being together. It was for numerous reasons to begin with, but a year passed by and another and they fully became implicated.

The rule book was a thin black note book, adorned with two red pairs of lips. One was yours, and one was JJ’s— having put red lipstick on his puckered lips, afterwards staining your entire face with them.

Painting your face with his desire for you.

And still that notebook remains framed in the living room, just above the TV.

Rule #1: Never go to sleep mad at eachother.

It was in big, chunky black letters— JJ wrote it and with every letter he wrote he meant it more. One would think cheating would be at the top of the list— but that wasn’t a worry.

It wasn’t a concern because if JJ could inject you into his veins he would do just that.

And so would you.

Opening up his heart to you was not a thing he’d ever regret doing.

Letting himself become infatuated with you, and letting you treat him the way he deserved to be.

You’d silently prayed that JJ would enforce the rule tonight, seeing as even though you did fuck up, you had reason to be irate as well.

His feet pad against the khaki carpet to switch off the bedroom lights. Miscellaneous TV show, playing whilst it illuminated his appearance. He made a b-line for his side of the bed, queen size engulfing him. And you did the same, twisting to lie in bed next to him, but not right beside him.

Lying the exact same— backs flat against the black silk sheets, duvet pulled up past either arms. Pairs of eyes darting at the the other. Except JJ’s left arm is behind his head, the muscle fissuring with ease as it grooved forward from the small glance you got. His right arm is the one closest to you, flat in the open space between the two.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know how to lay.

He is so use to having skin on skin contact, but now he’s lying alone and deprived of your touch.

And you would initiate but you quiver at being denied again.

“Y’know you can’t go to sleep yet.”

His raspiness booms and echoes off the walls, causing you to jump in the slightest. Still continuing to look forward at the cinema before him, you bore into him with furrowed eyebrows— head turning on the firm pillow.

“How come?”

His insides fluttered at your melodic and rhythmically put together voice.

He’s still scolding to the touch, but realizing his tad of unreasonableness consumes him. Turning to his side, he faces you, an everlasting lump in his throat.

“Rule number one-“

“Never go to bed mad at eachother.”

You finish his sentence, and his mouth is partially open. Heartbeat becoming deathly, hands clammy at him bringing the rule book up. He remembered.

He remembered it all.

“So can we stop being mad?”

He pleads, voice cracking in the slightest.

Giving himself to you in every way possible.

Vulnerability only amendable when he’s near you.

Enchanted and explicitly, letting you suck his soul in.

And he didn’t care.

“I was never mad at you J, you were mad at me.”

Solely, truthful acknowledging that you couldn’t be viled at him chewing you out at dinner. Feeling like you deserved every bit of it.

“I s-shouldnt have said that, baby m’sorry.”

His lone hand encapsules your shoulder, the pet name leaving his mouth smoothly, a part of his everyday vocabulary. You crane your neck to place small pecks to each one of his knuckles, showing each one more attention than the last.

“S’okay, I get it J.”

“Just wanted us to have tonight, for us.”

“I ruined it, I know-“

“Nothing’s ruined … we still have us.”

His head lowers, lips puckering in the faintest way. Softly pressing with yours, all whilst enveloping you closer into his frame. An embrace his sore body hungered for. Tongue delving into your mouth, molding together like puzzle pieces. Angrily kissing to make up for the love lost today, he hummed at the comforting sensation.

“And m’not letting go of that, baby.”

[tribalchief2112]

Make up

Warnings: 18+ Smut

Word count: 2.2k

Not proof read, sorry for any mistakes

First time writing smut 🌚🌚🌚

Zilla Fatu x Nyla Blake (Black OC)

____________________________________________

I rolled out the dough for my cinnamon buns as Jhené Aiko sang gently, echoing out of the speaker. For the first time in a while i felt peaceful: there was no one to bother me, no one to disrupt my happiness and no one in my space. My boyfriend Isayah, or better know as Zilla Fatu had gotten into an argument just over a week ago and I had been ignoring him ever since, after his questionable actions.

I felt like he had been putting more time and effort into wrestling rather than our relationship and I know it sounds selfish but it was truth. We both had pretty hectic schedules, with him training almost every day and me working at the hospital until the early hours of the morning, sometimes we were never able to see each other but I tried to make it work, I tried to put in the effort.

When I got in from work at 6am, he’d be leaving out to head to the pc. He’d rush past me hurriedly, placing a kiss on my cheek then practically running out the door, hardly acknowledging my presence. This cycle had been going on for weeks and became even worse when he went away for 3 weeks. I’d check in on him everyday, asking how training went, making sure that he was all okay in general. All I got back from him was dry two word answers. This break really made me question our relationship and when he finally got back I snapped. We got into a heated argument and ever since then i’d been giving him the silent treatment.

He’s been trying everything to get me to speak to him but I refuse to break until I receive a true heartfelt apology, which I knew wasn’t coming anytime soon.

Not even 2 minutes later, my peace and quiet evaporated into thin air as the front door slammed shut, letting me know that Zilla was home. With my back to him, I made sure not to acknowledge his arrival as he threw his bag in the closet and made his way to the kitchen, taking a water bottle out the fridge. I turned up the music and went back to my baking, spreading the cinnamon sugar all over the squared dough.

I felt him standing behind me, his eyes burning a hole through my skull. Nevertheless, I continued rolling the buns into a cylinder getting ready to cut them up. Before I could grab the knife, I felt his warm body come up behind me, forcefully pressing me into the counter as him arms snaked around my waist while he placed kissed against my neck. I felt my restraint slow slipping away as he grip tightened and he pressed into me further, causing my breathing to shallow and head to fall back.

Before he went to far and I lost all sense of composure and self respect, I shook him off my and went back to what I was doing, making sure to move to another part of the kitchen. Zilla sucked his teeth, following me over. ‘‘Why you still mad at me ma, can’t we fix this shit?’’ he questioned as his eyes pierced the side of my face. ‘‘We can’t fix shit until you apologize Isayah,’’ I mumbled, turning away from him.

‘‘What I gotta apologize for, I ain’t did nun wrong,’’ he spoke as the anger in his tone grew. I stared at him quizzically, wondering if what he said was a joke before a laugh fell from my mouth. ‘‘Are you fucking kidding me Isayah? You haven’t done anything wrong,’’ I questioned in disbelief. ‘‘For the past three fucking months you’ve neglected our relationship, neglecting me. You don’t make time for us any more especially when you’re away, you don’t even look at me.’’

‘‘Nyla cmon that ain’t true. How you gon’ stand there tryna tell me ion make time for you?’’ Zilla responded back, a sharpness in his tone. ‘‘Because it’s the truth Zay, all you do train then when you get back here it’s like… it’s like i don’t exist no more.’’ I shouted back as I felt the tears pooling in my eyes. ‘‘I don’t have the energy for this Zilla, just leave me alone.’’ I huffed with a deflated tone.

He stared at me for what felt like hours before he scoffed and went upstairs. Once I heard the shower turn on, I finally continued my task, cutting the cinnamon buns and setting them in a dish so they could rise. I tried not to let my talk with Zilla longer on my mind but it was so hard, all I wanted was to fix things so we could go back to normal.

After cleaning the kitchen, I went upstairs to our room to sort out my hair. It’d been sat in two braids for the past week and definitely needed some tlc. So I sat at my vanity, sectioning my hair into 4, soaking it with my spray bottle and added the moisturizer all throughout my hair making sure to finger coil some strands around my face. Before I had the chance to finish, the door to the en suite fell open as Zilla walked out with a towel round his waist.

I kept my focus on my hair as he padded around our room searching for his clothes. I frantically finished my hair then went back down stairs to the living room, not wanting to be in his presence.

As the night stretch on, me and Zilla kept our distance, him residing in our bedroom while I sat in the living watching whatever show I could find. My phone vibrated next to me, letting me know it was time to take the cinnamon buns out the oven. I jumped up from the couch and took them out, letting the beautiful smell flood the house. As I went over to the fridge to get the cream cheese frosting, yet again I felt a cold hand snake around my waist. Zilla held me tight against his body as he placed kissed up and down my collar bone.

‘‘Ma you know i’m sorry, just let me make it up to you,’’ he spoke inbetween kisses. ‘‘Just because you claim you’re sorry doesn’t change anything Isayah, you need to show me.’’ I said gasping for air.

‘‘What you want me to show you Ny?’’ he asked as his hand moved down to my shorts, moving them out the way to rub my clothed pussy. ‘‘Damn she already wet fa me. She missed me that much babe? Did she miss this dick?’’ Zilla teased as his hand slid my panties out the way, rubbing his two fingers along my slit before teasing my clit. The restraint I’d worked so hard to build slipped away before my eyes as I writhed against him, feeling his dick against my back side.

‘‘Zilla’s gonna make it up to you ma, I promise,’’ he spoke eagerly as he spun my around and threw his lips onto mine, engulfing me into a bruising kiss as my arms wrapped around his neck pressing against him. His hands traveled to my ass as he picked me up, carrying me to our room.

When we got to the room, he tossed me onto the bed as a ravenous look fell upon his face. Our heavy breathing filled the room as he dropped to his knees, pulling me to the edge of the bed removing my shorts and panties. He moved his head closer, his hot breath fanning against my pussy before his tongue darted out licking up my slit, taking my clit into his mouth.

My back arched off the bed as my hands made their way to his hair, tangling my fingers within it as I moaned in pleasure. Strained moans fell from my parted lips as my hips grinded against him chasing my nut. ‘‘Mhmm, you so wet for my baby, yo shit leakin down yo thighs. I missed my pussy so much, did she miss me?’’ He asked, lust laced in his voice as he added a third finger making me squeal.

‘‘Uuhuh Zay. Fuck. She missed you so much baby. Don’t stop baby please.’’ I continued to moan as tears fell from my eyes. My body felt like it was on fire as Zilla continued to demolish my pussy, fingers moving rapidly as he suckled my clit non stop.

‘‘Say my name baby, say my name before I let you nut. Let everyone hear who’s makin you feel good right now.’’ He mewled before adding a third finger causing a scream to rip from my lungs. ‘‘Isayah I… I can’t. Please baby I need to come.’’ I shrieked as my legs began to shake around his neck. ‘‘Ny say my name before I stop, you wanna come don’t you baby?’’ He teased. ‘‘What’s my name.’’

‘‘D-Daddy,’’ I screeched as I felt my orgasm rip through my body, causing my legs to shake rapidly as Zilla lapped up all my cum in his mouth, not missing a drop. ‘‘You’re such a good girl baby, cumming all in daddy’s mouth like that. Look at my pussy leakin n shit,’’ he laughed loudly.

‘‘Whatchu want now baby. Tell daddy want you want and make it happen,’’ as he hand gripped my neck, carefully squeezing it as his hand went back to rubbing my clit. I reached my hand out to pull his shorts down but he slapped my hand away immediately. ‘‘Use your words girl, let me hear you say it,’’ humor laced in his voice. ‘‘Fuck. I want your dick Zay please, I need it,’’ I moaned as he kissed me again moving around to take off the last remnants of my clothes as well as his.

My hazy eyes watched him intently as he lined his dick up against my pussy, rubbing it along my slit collecting my juices. I couldn’t wait any longer, I wrapped my legs around his waist trying to pull him closer but he just laughed at me as his free hand reached out for my ankles. ‘‘Look how needy you are baby, you missed daddy’s dick a whole lot huh? Imma show you what you been missing out on, imma do you just right Nya,’’ he exclaimed as he slammed into to me harshly, placing my legs on his shoulders so he could slam against my g-spot. My eyes rolled into the back of my skull as the relentless pleasure engulfed me completely.

Loud uncontrollable moans fell from my mouth as he pounded my pussy, let his hand travel to my neck again adding slight pressure. ‘‘Look at the mess you’re making on my dick baby look at it. This what I do to you ma, this how I make you feel? Good fucking pussy right here,’’ he spoke as moans slipped from his mouth. As I clenched around him, he moaned deeply into my neck as his hips slammed against me erratically. ‘‘Fuck Ny, you gripping me so good, I love this pussy, I love you,’’ he hummed into my neck as his hips snapped up yet again.

The pleasure over took me once again as my legs shook, falling back down around his waist, nails clawed up his back and teeth but down into his shoulder, trying to quiet my moans as gushy sounds echoed throughout the room. ‘‘Don’t hide from my ma, let me here you when you cream on my cock baby, let everyone hear how good I make you feel,’’ Zilla smirked as his hand darted down to my clit, rubbing it gently.

The familiar knot in my stomach began to grown again as I reached out to his torso, trying to push him away as it all got to much. My efforts failed drastically as he pinned my hands above my head, pounding into me desperately chasing his orgasm. ‘‘Don’t run from my now Ny, you wanna act like a big before so you gon take this dick like a big girl now. Tryna scratch up my shit and push me away. Uhuh. I wanna feel you baby,’’ He spoke as his hooded eyes stared me down intently.

Before I knew it, he exploded inside of me, his hips moving uncontrollably as my orgasm rippled through me, causing my eyes to roll back and tears to fall once again. Zilla collapsed ontop of me as we both road out our highs together. I went to wrap my arms around his back but he flinched slightly, remembering the marks that I left on him. ‘‘Shit baby, you tore up my back bad,’’ he laughed as he pulled out of me, both of his flinching at the emptiness we both felt.

Later on, we got into the shower, changed the sheets and got under the covers. ‘‘I am sorry for how i’ve been acting Nya, we gon talk it out properly in the morning. That cool?’’ He asked, hesitation laced within his voice. ‘‘That’s fine Zay, just promise you’ll work on your actions.’’ I pleaded with him as tiredness over took me. ‘‘ I promise you Nyla.’’ He said. And with that, we both drifted off to sleep.

————————————————————————

Hope guys liked it, pls lmk 🙈

[t-horn-n]

— clean up crew

PAIRING: miguel o’hara x reader (gender-neutral)

GENRE: hurt/comfort

SUMMARY: he thinks that you take too many risks on missions.  you think he’s a hypocrite.

“I don’t think you’re listening to me, Miguel,” you berate.

Your anger feels like a vat of boiling water beneath your rib cage.

“No, you’re not listening to me,” Miguel retorts.  “If you were, we wouldn’t still be talking about this, thirty minutes later.”  His voice sounds pinched and low.  

It’s at times like these that you think it would be much more simple if you just hated him.  If you could take all of the things you felt about Miguel O’Hara and exchange them for that single-minded five letter word.

“You’re only listening to me enough to argue with me,” you insist.

“But how many times have we fought about this, querida?  You’re always the one to start it.”  

You stand between him and the door to his office in the Spider-Society’s headquarters, so he focuses on a holographic dot map of reported anomalies.  He never likes to sit still when you fight.  At work, he pretends to swipe through reports or analyze charts.  At home, he’ll get up to fix himself a mug of decaffeinated coffee or clean the dishes in the sink or fold the laundry you left on the kitchen table.  You’re often arguing with his back.  You try very hard not to resent that, or rather, not to resent him.

“I would drop it if you would just listen to me.”  It’s mortifying that your voice shakes when you’re angry.

He thinks that you take too many risks on missions.  You think he’s a hypocrite.

“I have,” he says, exasperated.  “But this is the third time this month that you’ve gotten injured—”

“Bruises don’t count, Miguel.”

“Let me finish,” he warns.  “You sprained your wrist two weeks ago.  The month before that you pulled a muscle in your neck.  In May you dislocated your shoulder.  Last year you were out for three months when you fractured your collarbone.  You throw yourself around like you’re unbreakable.” 

“Oh yeah?” you hiss.  “What about you?  You flung yourself into that collapsing building on Tuesday.” 

“And you notice that I am unhurt.” 

“Right.”  You roll your eyes.  “Because you’re just so perfect, boss.  The strongest.  The smartest.”

His shoulders tense. 

“I’m worried that one day you’ll break and they won’t be able to fix you,” he tells you.  “If I did what was good for you, I’d send you to the clean up crew.” 

Your face heats.  That’s mean, you both know it.  It makes you want to be meaner.

“Oh, because you always know what’s best for everyone?  Honey, don’t you think you’ve let all this power go to your head?” 

“No, I—”

“‘Clean up crew.’  Sometimes you’re such a goddamn asshole, Miguel.  Remember when that Vulture got away on Earth-1014 and totaled a neighborhood because the team was across town taking care of a bank robbery?  That was your call.  And when Hobie broke his arm?  That was thanks to your directions.  The reason why—”

As if you were doused with ice water, you stopped talking.

“Go on,” Miguel says, but it’s more tragic than heated.  When he looks at you, his eyes are glassy.

You clench your fists such that you can feel the prick of your fingernails against your palm.  

Clean up crew.  God.  

“I’m done with this conversation.”  And then you’re out the door.

He’s already at home sitting at the kitchen island when you open the door.  Something anxious has been festering beneath your skin for the past three hours and it’s still there, simmering, as you kick off your shoes, taking your time to put them on the shoe rack.  Then you grab a Dr. Pepper from the fridge and crack it open before leaning across the island towards him.  

A plate of the leftover lasagna from Olive Garden sits in front of him.  He looks at you now.  You’ve got a feeling that you appear as tired as he does.

“I’m sorry,” you say.  “I was cruel.  You’re right and I’m sorry.” 

Miguel blinks at you over red sauce and ricotta cheese.

“I—” he starts.  He looks down and drags his fork through noodle.  You notice that he’s got a speck of something at the corner of his lips.  “I do regret the neighborhood on 1014.  And Hobie’s arm.  I regret it most when I’m watching you get carted off to treat another injury.” 

“I know,” you reply.  “And, God, no one blames you for 1014, and Hobie only likes to give you a hard time.  I’m sorry.” 

“I shouldn’t have said I would send you to the clean up crew.” 

“No, probably not.  But I shouldn’t have called you an asshole.” 

He nods, slowly, and your shoulders relax.  

“We’ll talk more after you eat,” says Miguel.

“Alright.”

— m. list