#{time to spread the love to all my mutuals & non-mutuals}

[welcometothevale]

Like for me to send you asks throughout the week.

//I might be more ask heavy than thread heavy for at least the next week. It's the last real week of classes, then finals next week.

The asks are more for small doses of serotonin when my brain is too ahhh for writing threads or when time is ahhh.

Sidenote: I think the plan is to send like 1 a day or something to each person who likes.

[novy2sirius]

৻ꪆ my interpretation of venus synastry overlays

venus is the planet of romance and is related to socializing/creating relationships as well. when your venus is in someone’s house it can tell about the connection you have with someone, how close of a relationship you have with them, and how well you two get along in general. do not copy my work or rewrite this on your socials <3

♡⃕ venus in 1h synastry - romantically the venus person falls hard for the 1h person with this synastry. the venus person has strong attraction to the 1h persons appearance and personality. platonically this aspect indicates the venus person adores the 1h person and wants to befriend them (even in a non romantic situation). i would say this is one of the most beautiful aspects for romance though because it makes the venus person completely fall in love with who the 1h person is, simply for them just being them. there are times when you see this aspect in a friendship where the venus person will be very jealous of the 1h person though

♡⃕ venus in 2h synastry - romantically, the venus person feels stability in their life when the 2h person is around. the venus person feels drawn to the 2h person because they make them feel calm and at peace. the 2h person may buy a lot of gifts for the venus person which the venus person adores. this aspect can also indicate bonding over your traumas together because you share similar life experiences. platonically this could also be a good aspect if both people are patient. it can create strong care for one another and admiration for each other

♡⃕ venus in 3h synastry - the venus person loves listening to the 3h person talk (about anything) and adores them. this can indicate the venus person finds the 3h person very charming. there is a possibility of this manifesting in a negative way depending on the other aspects involved in two people’s synastry. it could indicate at worst lots of drama and gossip being spread about the 3h person by the venus person since venus is also associated with socializing (not just romance) and the 3h is associated with gossip

♡⃕ venus in 4h synastry - the venus person adores the comfort they feel around the 4h person. this can indicate feeling at home when you’re around someone and not feeling like you need to put on a show. this synastry is often called “boring”, but that’s only the case if you’re someone who doesn’t like emotional security in a relationship and is looking for a romance filled with constant ups and downs and chaos (fatal attraction vibes). this synastry is more like soulmate vibes. peace. care. affection. the opposite of how toxic relationships can be, of course depending on what your other aspects are in your synastry together

♡⃕ venus in 5h synastry - the venus person craves attention from the 5h person and loves spending time with them. this can indicate feeling really happy with the 5h person and wanting to be around them all the time. the venus person usually finds the 5h person to be very entertaining, funny, and attractive. at worst this could indicate more short term love if there aren’t other synastry aspects indicating something long term. this aspect can also be really good for sexual chemistry

♡⃕ venus in 6h synastry - the venus person’s life improves a lot when surrounded by the 6h person consistently. the venus person adores the 6h person for their healthy and put together life style or may have the urge to improve their life because they’re motivated by seeing the 6h person doing so. at worst this can indicate being too judgmental toward each other or critical. possibly loving the 6h persons pet more than them as well because humans suck (not talking from personal experience or anything)

♡⃕ venus in 7h synastry - this is one of the best aspects you can have for romance in synastry. this indicates a long term relationship and having mutual deep admiration for one another. you likely both want to be committed to each other and truly put in effort long term rather than just relying on the feeling of love to guide you in your relationship. this aspect could also indicate an enemies to lovers dynamic. platonically, this could indicate being enemies at worst, but at best having lots of love for each other

♡⃕ venus in 8h synastry - this aspect is over-hated in my personal opinion. yes 8h energy can at times bring hatred, but the 8h also is associated with things like magnetism, intimacy, and infatuation. sure when unhealthy (low vibrational) this aspect could bring unhealthy obsession and attachment to one another, but at best it indicates having a super close bond in which you feel like you can tell each other anything and feel you can trust each other deeply. this is also good for sexual chemistry. platonically, it could indicate a toxic friendship sometimes, but when it manifests in a higher vibrational way it can just indicate a friendship with lots of loyalty

♡⃕ venus in 9h synastry - the venus person admires the 9h person for their free spirited nature. this can indicate two people having a lot of fun with each other and laughing a lot together. it can also indicate a long distance relationship or traveling a lot together. this is a fun aspect, but it can also indicate lack of committment at worst

♡⃕ venus in 10h synastry - this can be a big indication of dating similar to venus in 1h/7h synastry. people always describe this aspect as working together and falling in love and things like that, which can be true, but there’s so much more to it than that. the 10h is associated with status (including relationship status), so this can indicate when meeting there’s a change in both of your relationship status’ and you begin dating. this can also indicate the venus person admiring and having a crush on the 10h person before even meeting them

♡⃕ venus in 11h synastry - this indicates being soulmates since the 11h is the house of soulmates due to derivative astrology (especially if you both have this aspect mutually). it can also indicate a friends to lovers situation or meeting online and being online lovers. platonically, it can indicate being online besties or being really good friends in general. at worst it could indicate chaos in a relationship or disloyalty occurring since the 11h is associated with rebellion

♡⃕ venus in 12h synastry - this aspect can indicate the venus person secretly admires the 12h person or is very fascinated by them. platonically, it could mean the venus person is very inspired by the 12h person and wants to do things they do all the time (at worst copies everything they do too much). romantically, this can indicate intense spiritual love and that you may have known one another in a past life. it at worst could also indicate lots of lies or secretly hating one another and not finding out about it till later

[mxqdii]

matt sturniolo headcannons

pairings: matt sturniolo x reader

summary: headcannons!

warning(s): mentions of mental health, fluff

not proofread

matt would def be the type of boyfriend to just ALWAYS be touching you, like i know it's said, but it is very true. his hand is either on your thigh, his fingers interlocked with yours, or just touching you in some way.

if theres any insomniacs here or just in general people who have trouble sleeping, matt would be there awake with you playing with your hair until you fall asleep.

if you're anxious or if anything is bothering you, you dont even have to tell matt and he just knows. i feel like he would definitely have you studied, the way you act when you're uncomfortable, the way you act when you're sad, everything.

pet names. matt is a big user of pet names, i can picture him calling his partner "baby" and "love" the most, but a few sweetheart and beautiful's would slip out.

long conversations are a definite.

you would be having a bad day and just see matt and break

"baby what happened? talk to me."

"its okay, you're okay." he says stroking the back of your head

you two would very much lean on each other when needed, he would have bad days and just times where he would be more quiet, and all he wants is to be near you.

this is very controversial but in my opinion i feel like matt wouldn't be completely against pda. in public there would be hand holding, short and sweet pecks, etc. nothing too crazy but i know he wouldn’t just stop touching you the minute you two leave the house.

in private though? this man is so clingy. kisses everywhere, always cuddling, his hand on your thigh, hugs, etc.

you in the car vids and vlogs (if you're comfortable with that.) occasionally sitting in the front with matt if you survive the war for it with chris.

chris always making jokes on how you're a home wrecker and how you stole his bf (he loves you though)

you taking care of sick matt and them him spreading his sickness to you the next week, getting each other sick has happened on multiple occasions.

can get VERYY jealous and/or overprotective, jaw WILL be clenched and he'll either get quiet or possessive.

you, matt, nick & chris have sleepovers in the living room and watch movies together, you always end up seeing pictures of you and matt cuddling when you wake up.

holidays with matt are unforgettable. this boy would always get such perfect gifts for you every. single. year.

i see a lot of fics where matt cheats on the reader, but being honest... he would never. matt loves his s/o too much to hurt them and i just cant picture him cheating or playing somebody.

now what would happen is matt being too scared to admit his feelings for you, !!!!mutual pining!!!! is a definite. (unless u bold)

speaking of mutual pining, tropes for a matt relationship would definitely be friends to lovers. like growing up with the triplets then falling for matt.

if you're also a youtuber he would appear in your videos constantly, AND would help you film whenever you need.

he finds it so adorable how much you love his tattoos, i saw someone write a blurb saying reader would color in his tats and i ADORE that idea so much.

him watching you look so focused as you use the colors on his arm, tucking your hair behind your ear when it falls, smiling non stop, etc.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Look, This is gonna be one of those things that sounds bad until you read the whole story. Please don't read the title and go to 'yta' without reading.

AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

Look, My brother ISNT trans. He likes to wear kilts and sew, Which is what kind of started all of this. My brother is NOT trans, He loves being a boy (trust me, I can hear him enjoying being a boy in his room all the time. Theres no way he'd wanna chop it off(I mean this as a joke I don't actually know how the surgery works), He's told me multiple times that being told by others what he likes is 'feminine' and 'girly' upsets him because he's proud of being a boy and doesn't like being called a girl. Its not because he hates girls or thinks less of them, He just does not like being called the wrong gender which I'm sure you want to be called the correct gender too.)

Anyways lets begin. I (16F) am my little brothers (15M) best friend, Basically. We grew up together and do everything together, Including sewing. I liked it when I was younger, And eventually convinced him to try it as well. He loved it, And we love just sitting together and making random crap we usually end up selling at our yearly garage sale. (Our mom makes us sell all our unneeded crap every year, But we aren't complaining when we make like $100 for it, Mom and dad even help us figure out what we actually wanna keep (we sometimes see old things and go 'Oh I could never get rid of this' and then throw it away))

Sorry for the rambling, But you'll see why some of this is important to know.

Basically, We were getting our shit together for the garage sale, And invited over a mutual friend of ours, Who I'll call uhhh Ley (16F). Shes kind of obsessed with the LGBTQ and loves to help people 'realize' they're gay or trans or non-binary. By this I mean she'll literally bully people she 'knows' is gay or trans by always telling them they are and spreading rumors about them saying they are. The way she 'knows' these things are from gut feelings. I thought maybe she needed friends who would be honest with her and tell her gently that it needed to stop. She stopped being so bad with it and we even convinced her to admit to the rumors she started being fake. We've known her for around 3 years now, And she's stopped doing it as aggressively for 2 of those years. She still makes jabs and 'jokes' saying things like "Oh thats so girly, Are you sure you're not trans?" and "Oh thats such a boy thing to do, Are you a lesbian?", Both quotes she's said to me and my brother less than a week ago. I am straight and cis, So is my brother. We have nothing against the lgbt, We just aren't apart of it. We support the lgbtq as much as possible (with my part time job I like to donate some of my paycheck towards point of pride so people who need the surgeries or binders can get them), And are very open about supporting them.

While we were cleaning out my brothers room and finding stuff to throw into the 'sell' box (we like to do precleaning before our parents help us, It makes everything faster and less work on the people trying to help), And Ley found my brothers kilt. She did a long exaggerated gasp, Looking at my brother.

"So, How long have you been trans? Why didn't you tell me?? I knew it the whole time!"

My brother tried to explain that it was a kilt for men, And he wasn't trans, But she kept interrupting him saying crap like 'you don't have to lie I know now' and 'Its nothing to be embarrassed about, I knew ever since you started to sew'. The last straw for me was when she continued not listening to him and started to ask about how he was gonna come out as school. I yelled at her to get out, That neither of us were gay, Neither of us are trans, And neither of us are apart of any of the lgbtq. We are allies and nothing more. She tried to argue that he had a 'skirt' which OBVIOUSLY meant he was trans, I basically screamed at her that she was a stupid know it all who made everyone who wasn't apart of the lgbtq's life hell because she made sure everyone knew them as someone they arent (I know, I shouldn't of brought up 2 years in the past) and that I was tired of her trying to force everyone to be in the LGBTQ when its just not realistic. Not everyone is gay or trans, Some people are cis and straight. She started crying and left, We haven't spoken in a few days but I think I'm justified. I'm tired of living my life being told I'm something I'm not, I'm tired of seeing it happen to my brother too.

My brother later thanked me for standing up for him, Telling me it made him really upset when she said those things. To cheer him up we watched his favorite movies and I made him his favorite dinner (mom and dad both work day jobs so we both make lunch and dinner)

And for those who are gonna say that allies are apart of the LGBTQ I strongly believe the A is for aro/ace. Being an ally isn't a gender or sexuality

(unless people identify using ally/allyself of course or whatever it is, I'm not quite sure how neos work or whatever but I love to see how creative people get with it and am happy it gives people who don't identify with any of the normalized(? Idk the correct term but yknow the man woman and nb) genders a chance to be who they actually are)

Extra info on why I think I could be the asshole: I feel like we might've been able to explain it if we got her to shut up for a minute, But she kept talking over us. I feel like I went too far by insulting her, And I feel like I might be TA because she's also autistic (so is my brother though, And I have ADHD).

Why I think I'm NTA: My brother is really quiet and doesn't really defend himself often. He doesn't really know how to stand up for himself and is 'easy' to talk over (soft spoken, Quiet talking voice and nonconfrontational) which is why I believe I had to step in in his place, And I don't believe I did anything wrong defending my brother and making her stop calling him what hes not.

Anyways. AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

To see later: PINK PANTHER

What are these acronyms?

[lottiecrabie]

hiii You know who this is can i please please please have cyosa mutual masturbation i lost so hard every time but once and you know you love meeeee 😇😇😇😇

this is for you🫵you know who you are. I love you🫶

‘matty…’ you moan, half as a beg and half as a mindless need. he chuckles, opening your thighs for him, putting you on display. you’re so ready you might take him right now. 

matty’s hand still dances on your thigh, working higher and higher. your breath hitches, anticipating the fateful meeting. he whispers, smirking, ‘how about you show me how you do it?’

your cheeks flame at the idea. you clench your thighs, trapping him in place, embarrassed. he doesn’t seem too bothered. he revels in prying them open again, grazing the ready skin until you’re squirming.

‘why would i when you’re right here?’ as if to convince him, you reach for his leftover hand, dragging it to a pert breast. he chuckles. his finger rolls the nipple and you sigh, still holding onto his wrist.

‘i want to see,’ he says. ‘i want to learn.’ you groan, half from pleasure and half from shyness. you hide in your shoulder, arching your back into his hand in contradiction. again, a laugh falls from him. ‘how about i show you too?’

your eyes snap to him, suddenly interested. he kneels up, towering over your parting frame. his hand makes quick work of his belt— quicker than your hungry, shaking ones could have done. he draws his cock out without any hesitation, holding it at the base. your breath dies in your throat. you freeze under him.

‘i’m already hard,’ matty says. ‘don’t even have to think about you cause you’re already laying there like a fucking daydream.’

you grin, spreading your legs further, giving him a show. a tortured groan rasps out his throat. ‘fuck, love, you’re gorgeous.’ he strokes himself once, swiping his thumb over the tip. you lick your lips, though you do not feel the need to reach out and do it yourself. you want to relish in the spectacle.

you get him, now. he knows this. says, ‘show me.’

you don’t feel as shy. your hand grabs his own, puppeteering him so he pinches and rolls your peaked nipples just right. a broken moan comes out of you. in turn, he strokes faster.

‘i don’t like the before,’ you choke out. ‘i’d rather just get to it.’ it’s all the warning you give him before you plunge your hand between your folds, circling your clit.

‘shit,’ matty cries. ‘you’re not real.’ you hum, pinching the skin of his wrist mischievously, reveling in his little yelp. ‘what do you think about?’

you shrug, non-committed. ‘i like my mind blank.’ matty tsks and shakes his head. you almost want to laugh, but your fingers hit a sinful spot and you’re too busy whining out.

‘you’re doing it wrong,’ he breathes. his hand is still hard at work on himself. he needs to frown in concentration to get his thought out. ‘the before, the imagination— that’s what it’s all about. you won’t get a mind-blowing orgasm if you don’t involve your mind.’

‘do it, then,’ you whimper. ‘mindblow me.’

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. ‘i didn’t expect you to be lazy.’ the challenge works and you set your eyes, competitiveness bubbling in your chest. vengefully, you dip two fingers inside, watching as he slows his rhythm in quiet wonder.

you thrust in and out, angling your fingers until your legs twitch mindlessly. your nails dig into his skin, and it’s not even to send any kind of message. he’s wrong about the mind. you masturbate to get you off— off that tyrannical ride your head leads ruthlessly. this, the hot euphoria beating in your veins, the quiet moans, the shivering limbs, is what it’s about.

‘i’ll tell you, then,’ matty says. he seems close, pumping his cock fast and certain. his chest rises and falls, the tattooed planes of his stomach in perfect display. you want to spread a hand over it, want to descend down and replace his hand, want to— you thumb your clit and stop wanting.

‘i think about you, all pretty and hot and needy. never this perfect, though. god, you’re really not real— like a fucking frosted cupcake, all sweet for me.’ the words fizzle up your chest. pleasure strikes through you, doubly so, and you cry his name in sheer shock.

matty continues, ‘i think about you in the library, bending you over until i erase that little worried frown you have. make you suck my fingers so you keep quiet still. don’t want to get banned— still need you to ride my cock on those big chairs after all.’

‘oh, god,’ you whine. you rub your clit furiously, eyes rolling back, seemingly astral projected to the library. your lips part in quiet worship. ‘more,’ you beg him.

matty pinches your nipple, forcing you to look at him. ‘your turn.’

you pant, trying to use your brain when your fingers are deep and quick inside of you, when he’s hanging off with that swoopy hair over his forehead and those dark, hungry eyes. you’re drunk on the mere sight of him, and you start fearing how he’ll affect you when he’s the one thrusting inside you.

‘i—‘ your legs kick, helpless. ‘sometimes when we watched movies, i’d think about you eating me out on the couch.’

matty groans, scrunching his eyes like he’s imagining it. ‘yeah? what’d i do?’

‘just— you’d kneel in front of me, and you’d tell me to pay attention, and then you’d do it. devour me like you were starved. shush me when i got too loud, remind me to watch my smart, pretentious film.’

another broken cry slips out of him. he falls over you, though still holding himself up with an arm. your now free hand spread over his ribs, back, anything your greediness can find. both your fingers work in tandem between your bodies, a quiet union you’ve just now noticed. you roll your head, hit his wrist. ‘matty…’

‘i thought about you asking me to fuck you before,’ matty admits offhandedly, lost in his pleasure. your fingers press into his working shoulder, mean. ‘fuck, i almost believed i was imagining when you really did ask me. figured i was going crazy.’

you twist your head, kissing his wrist over and over, tiny presses of love you don’t dare say. your tongue sticks out and licks it all up before it stays and means something. ‘again,’ you moan, feeling yourself get closer. your hips rise for your strained digits. your body hums in warning.

‘i want to come on your stomach. want to mark your skin— god, need it. need to see you all pretty with my cum, make you all messy. show you’re mine.’

‘matty,’ you scream, pumping your fingers just right.

’need to see you come, too. break apart so you’re not so perfect. my pristine, pretty girl, drooling for me, screaming my name, working those little fingers…’

‘fuck—‘

‘you’re doing so well for me,’ he promises. his hand has lost any sense of regular rhythm, pumping with desperate abandon instead. ‘just like i though,’ he says, full of wonder. he seems so gone you’d figure he’s all in his head, but matty stares at you like he could lick up the frost off the cupcake. ‘of course you’d listen. of course you’d do just i say.’

‘fuck, i need—‘ it’s on the tip of your tongue, but you don’t get to say, a shattering orgasm taking you instead.

you open your jaw and dig your teeth in matty’s wrist, biting down the yells as waves of pure ecstasy shake through you. your head, never quite unattached before, blanks with the force of pleasure. you say his name, you think. or maybe not. in the end, you don’t think at all, and it is glorious.

matty’s close after you, screaming out your name shamelessly. the ropes of white cum hit your stomach and he draws out his last trembles before he falls atop you with a sigh.

your head’s all fuzzy as you lay there. ‘oh,’ you finally say once you regain speech. you trace a finger over his back, staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. oh, this is what it’s supposed to be.

‘yeah,’ matty murmurs in your hair. because he understands, of course he does. your lungs feel full and heavy.

he finally rises and you catch a glance to the mess between your two bodies. the cum is painted over both of your stomach. though matty doesn’t even bother wiping it off before he smirks, kissing down your sternum. his eyes flash up at you, full of mischief. ‘so you want me to eat you out, huh?’

[galadrieljones]

i actually wonder why you ship daryl and beth? i see them as friends and yeah i watched their scenes over and over and i didn’t see any love between them. And i see beth younger than him and i see daryl see her as a friend and sister So what is your reasons to ship them anyway!?

I'm going to assume this question is in good faith and that you are genuinely interested in why I (and many others) ship bethyl, so I'll answer in good (albeit cautious) faith. I'm also going to tag some of my friends and mutuals at the end who I would like to encourage to share why they, personally, ship bethyl.

First, know that I don't care if people don't ship bethyl. I also am not beholden to shipping "canon" ships. I don't care about any of that, and I think it's boring to restrict one's interest in shipping to what is canon or what the fandom accepts. You're free not to ship bethyl, and I won't be mad. That's your choice!!

BUT, since you're here of your own volition, realize that I personally don't buy the bethyl bond as "sibling-coded" argument at all lol. I can understand if someone just doesn't want them to be together, because they want Daryl to be with another character or something. That's fine and perfectly rational. I can also understand if someone does not like age difference ships, and they reject it on those grounds alone. Okay! That's your preference. BUT, Beth was 18 by the events of "Still." And the argument that they share a "sibling-coded" bond has never held water for me. Believe me when I say that I can see the argument for C*ryl before I can see the argument for Daryl and Beth being "sibling-coded," and that's saying a LOT. I've literally never had anyone successfully explain this perception to me using actual evidence from the show or from the actors/showrunners outside the show. It is ALWAYS subjective. And when confronted with evidence of a bethyl romance, these same people tend to just invoke their *age difference* as if that, in and of itself, is a dealbreaker.

IMPORTANT: It's NOT a dealbreaker, but some people in fandom these days mistake personal preference for moral paradigm, and these people tend to be very judgmental and to screech a lot and to spread rumors and to bully others. The same exact thing is happening to Neggie. But I'm not going to get into that right now.

Now, you say you don't see how they could possibly be "romantic." Of course, that's totally fine, but you will need to try and explain this to thousands of people lol. I am actually not super interested in going through, in detail, why I ship bethyl from a defensive position. I'm very sick of defending something that is, frankly, entirely unproblematic and also...popular! Other than Rickyl (which is a non-canon slash ship), Bethyl, even ten years after her exit from the flagship, is still the most popular TWD ship on AO3. It was popular at the time that the show aired. Jeffrey Dean Morgan's wife ships bethyl lol. Bethyl is not "weird." It's not even a rare pair!

AND YET, to put so briefly, if you *actually* care: I PERSONALLY love bethyl because I believe their characters exist in beautiful harmony. Beth is an artist. Her priority is beauty and continuously discovering what it means to live. She believes in the goodness of people. She is a religious character who has faith in God's love. She is, as Norman put it a long time ago, like a little light at the end of the tunnel for Daryl. She reminds Daryl of what it means to live, what it means to trust people and to have faith. She protects him from his own demons and reconnects him to the beauty that remains in a dying, horrific world. Daryl tends to forget about his own well-being and his own happiness. He prioritizes brute survival, because he was taught to do this over many years of emotional and physical abuse as a child. He is "used to things being ugly" and he frequently blames himself for things that go wrong. He closes himself off to others because he has a difficult time trusting that they won't abandon him or die. At the moonshine shack, Beth confronts him on this, and he confronts her right back. Beth isn't used to being challenged by men. But he challenges her to be better and to face her own insecurities as well. He makes her stronger. She pries open his heart. At the moonshine shack, she physically grabs him to remind him that he is still alive, and that everyone they've lost was once alive, too, and that just because they might be dead now, that's not his fault. The two of them still alive, while others are dead, that's not his fault, and there is still goodness in the world and things worth living for.

Speaking of physical touch, you really should rewatch "Alone" if you want to understand the physical and romantic chemistry between Beth and Daryl. There is literally so much that I could go through, but I don't have time lol.

The moment I fell in love with bethyl was actually in "30 Days Without an Accident," when Beth embraces Daryl in such a way that reassures him that he is not alone in a desperately lonely situation. Both characters are battling demons in this scene. But it's somewhat subtextual. If you don't watch closely, you may miss it.

That said, as has been established, a LOT of people did NOT miss it lol. It's just that a lot of people also want Daryl to be with someone else, or they feel the need to moralize on the internet. Neither one of those things is relevant to me, though I accept them as realities.

Anyway, I hope this helps! ->

@sasusc @frangipanilove @twdmusicboxmystery @pipergirl17 @sweetz1919

@emsee22 @drewmoll03 @bookqueenrules @bethiscomingsoon

@angelthefirst1 @bethgreeneprevails @im-immortal @rose-andthe-thorn @wdway @boltthrutheheart

and anyone else, I know I've forgotten some people 😩. I just went off the top of my head, so please chime in on why you love bethyl, or feel free to completely ignore this ❤️

[oibean]

I had a thought about John Price? (could work w anyone really) and f!reader that I needed to get out of my brain

Also shoutout to my fellow pillow humpers

Warnings: mutual masturbation, pillow humping, a non-writer writing (pls let me know if I should tag anything else)

Something something. Having John stay over for the first time, you two are early in a relationship. Maybe his mission ended early and you lived close to base or he just wanted to go see you asap or whatever. He doesn’t feel like showering and knows how particular you are/how you feel about him not showering after missions and laying in your bed so like a gentleman he opts to sleep on the couch bc he’s just so tired. He grabs a random pillow but that’s your humping pillow!

“Oops, not that one” you say feeling your face warm up and oh god is your forehead vein starting to show? Is the fan on? He looks at you confused.

“This one’s fine love. I don’t need anything fancy. Keep your nice pillows with you on your bed” he says tired from his flight. He has a small smile, tired eyes sparkling as they look at you.

“No no it’s just that I don’t want you using that pillow in particular, please” oh god this can’t be happening. You fidget with the ring on your thumb spinning it nervously. How are you gonna tell him that this is your designated humping pillow? How do you explain that the only way you get off is from humping that small rectangular pillow he’s currently pressing his cheek against?

He looks a bit more aware now. Maybe you're particular about your things and he crossed a line just moving it without asking, or it’s from a dear friend who you don’t get to see too often, or a deceased relative who you only have this pillow to remember them by. Whatever the reason he lifts his head and moves the pillow from under him. But before he can apologize and move to switch pillows you blurt out

“It’s just that’s the pillow I use when I- when I need to get off and I just didn’t get to put it away before you got here, I’m so sorry” you say it fast and stumble over each word. Cringing as you hear the sentence fall out of your mouth. Your eyes look at anything but him. Missing the mischievous look that he gets.

“It’s what?” His accent a tiny bit thicker than a few seconds ago. You look at him and he’s awake now. Sitting up and holding the pillow over his crotch. He feigns innocence and continues on. “I don’t understand love, can you say that again”

You frown a little bit. He heard you, he’s doing this to watch you squirm and since you don’t know how to free yourself from under his heavy gaze. You accept your fate. Like a bug stuck in a sticky trap.

“I- um” you really don’t think your heart has ever pumped this hard from pure embarrassment. You gulp, so loud that you both hear it and push through because you know there’s no way he’s gonna let you drop this conversation. So you word vomit, seeing no other option than to over share. Which he absolutely loves. It’s his favorite thing that you do.

“I can’t make myself- I can’t- get off with my fingers. I’ve tried my fingers and it just doesn’t work. I’ve only ever been able to use a pillow and just stuck with it” You don’t know what else to say so you say nothing, feeling the air get thicker in your small apartment. You look at him on the couch, legs spread wider and his big hands clutching onto the pillow so its shape is all warped. He looked at you like he was listening to the most interesting story in the world. With a blink, his face turns serious and his eyes darken.

“Show me.” His voice is husky and his gravely voice fills the quiet apartment.

You look at him with your eyebrows raised in surprise. You didn’t expect that, hoping he would drop it when he heard your shaky voice reveal something you’ve never said out loud, hoping he'd grant you some relief. Suddenly your tank top and sleep shorts feel too revealing and his gaze felt too heavy. You felt exposed and felt your core warming as his gaze stayed on you. Maybe he was joking? So you let out a forced huff of a laugh, hoping he wouldn’t push. But his face doesn’t move. You gulp and look down, shifting your weight from one leg to another.

“Show me, love” he repeats again adding the term of endearment to soften you up a bit, and honestly, it does. His hand holds out the small pillow towards you and you grab it. Both of you make your way to your bedroom in silence, he's so close you can feel his body heat. Both of you breathing heavily for different reasons.

His tall, broad figure looms over you as you slowly move towards your made bed. Trying to think about how to approach this. You lay flat against your bed on your stomach and peek up at him as your head hits your regular pillow. Usually you're under your comforter, but you assume that’s not what he’d want and push it to the other side of the bed. You start to get embarrassed as to what it might look like from his angle when you start, but try to ignore it as you place your head against your pillow. You close your eyes and slowly start making small circles with your cunt against the small pillow, one leg angled and the other straight. You look up at him and let out a little huff. His dark eyes look down on you as he palms himself through his sweats, fighting the urge to touch you. You unconsciously move a bit faster at the sight of him, he's looking at you as if you're the only thing that exists. You let out a whimper, not getting enough friction. You hate when that happens, and why now?

“That’s alright poor thing, keep going.” He has to bite his lip to restrain himself when you look up at him with desperate eyes. He pushes his sweats and boxers down and gently pushes them away with his foot as if any sudden movement would disturb this moment. He watches your body contort as you try to find your rhythm again, thighs clenching hard around the small pillow, hips moving up and down, side to side.

He slowly grabs his cock, thumb spreading his precum over the head. He lets out a small hiss and your eyes open to look at him. Pleading eyes find his and he nods his head in encouragement. Your thighs squeeze the pillow even harder but it’s not enough so you prop yourself up on your forearms with both knees bent out on each side of the pillow and start grinding the pillow at different speeds, trying to find one that works.

“Fuck, poor baby. Can’t get it right can you?” You let out a small whimper and shake your head as your brows furrow in frustration. His eyes trace your body, stopping to look at your hard nipples under your thin tank top as you press yourself further up, arching your body. Palms pressing against your bed as you ride the pillow. If the room wasn’t so quiet he would’ve missed the small “oh” that leaves your lips as you finally find your rhythm. He spits into his hand and starts to stroke himself faster. You open your eyes to look at him before closing them, moaning louder at the sight of his big hand twisting on his thick cock. You both look at each other as you get closer to your releases. His hand and your grinding speed up as you both reach your highs.

“Look at me. Don’t close your eyes. Look at me when you finish” He lets out tightly, voice gruff as he tries to hold back from cumming at the sight of you. Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth gapes open as you reach your release. Letting out a moan as your body twitches, fighting to keep your eyes on him. He palms his cock faster as he looks you in the eyes, he takes a step forward till his legs touch the edge of your bed and lets out a groan as he cums onto your limp body. Most of it landing on your tank top and lower back. You let out a lazy smile into your pillow as he leans down and pushes a kiss onto your head. You hear him walk to your bathroom. Faucet turning on and off, his heavy footsteps getting closer.

“Why don’t we take this off and wipe you up?” His voice makes you want to melt. You lift your body as he carefully peels the tank top off of you. Then wipes your lower back with a small damp towel. Placing both of them in your hamper he leans down to kiss you.

“Know I’m still sweaty so I can go ba-“ you interrupt him by wrapping your arms around his head to pull him down into bed with you. Pressing your naked body, save for your wet underwear, against his fully naked body.

“It’s alright, we’re both sweaty and I want you to hold me please” you say as you gaze into his warm eyes, hands stroking his hairy chest.

“That’s fine love let me just get my pillow” he lets out a playful groan as he reaches behind you to grab the small pillow that now has a big wet patch in the middle. Your face gets hot as he brings it in front of you both, glancing at you before he brings the pillow to his face. Your face heats up as you turn your head into his neck not wanting to watch him as he presses it against his face.

⭐️I had to make him sniff the pillow. Duh! ⭐️if anyone has an interpretation of this please!!! share it with me. I didn't know who would best fit this. Also I wish I could make this dark but I'm not good at it so I would also love to listen to those thoughts! ⭐️This is just a thought that would not leave me until it was written down.

[diazsdimples]

to spread some positivity, what are some blogs that bring you joy?💕

Hi! This is such a lovely question, so here are some of my favourite blogs!

@theotherbuckley - one of my very first 9-1-1 moots and one of the sweetest people on this site. Currently know for making some of the best bucktommy/118 tweets, doing INCREDIBLE bucktommy artwork, and writing some adorable fics.

@hippolotamus - MY LOVE! I'll never be able to yell about Hippo enough actually. Her writing is insanely good and will make you cry e v e r y time. Also has some of the most ouch edits you'll find, and is unbelievably skilled with a pencil.

@daffi-990 - Daffi is a fantastic author and one of the best hype people on the planet. She's just finished her Rival Firefighters fic, which is SO good, I urge everyone to go read it right now!! Also has an amazing Fantasy AU on the go, and some delightful fanart for it too!!

@bidisasterevankinard - Di is the OG of OG bucktommy shippers and has fully embraced multishipping to the max. She's the go to for all your Bucktommy, Suck, Saltommy, and platonic Buddie needs, and also one of the kindest people to exist.

@neverevan - Newbie has some amazing gif collections, both of the buddie and bucktommy variety, writes some incredible fics (including the Mudslide fic which I emplore you please go read) and also has some incredible takes on our beloved blorbos. Highly recommend

@spotsandsocks - 911blr's most favourite fantasy author lets be real! Spotty has written some amazing AUs, like the Dragonriders of Pern au, her Shifter Fic, and Author!Buck!! Whenever I see a dragon I think of our dear Spotty. One of the kindest mutuals a man can have.

@watchyourbuck - Sofia makes some of the most hilarious memes about the show and is a fucking delight to follow. Has fantastic takes, writes some positively steamy fics about both Buddie and Bucktommy, currently working on Murder Husbands and A.R.C.A.N.E.3 which I LOVE.

@bigfootsmom - Seriously if you don't follow Molly then what are you doing? An unbelievably talented artist that also manages to play with our emotions something wicked with their fics. Currently working on the seahorse girl dad Bucktommy fic that has me in such a chokehold it's insane, as well as the helicopter crash fic which might actually kill us all.

And some mutuals that deserve all the love in the world:

@wikiangela @steadfastsaturnsrings @lonelychicago @monsterrae1 @dangerpronebuddie

@cal-daisies-and-briars @inell @actuallyitsellie @perfectlysunny02 @aroeddiediaz

@exhuastedpigeon @bucksbignaturals @rainbow-nerdss @elvensorceress @lafdhoncho

@kinardbuckleys @kinkykinard @tommysdaddykink @gayhoediaz @jewishbuckley

@nilefreemans @doublecheekedkinard @tommykinardkink @buckevantommy @smallandalmosthonest

@djdangerlove @thekristen999 @loveyouanyway @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@wildlife4life

And some non-mutuals that have amazing blogs, please go follow them right tf now:

@buckttommy @eddiebabygirldiaz @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @lemonzestywrites @princessfbi

@try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @prettyboybuckley

[sharksupermacy]

wave

wave - non-idol! danielle marsh x non-idol! reader

synopsis: you and danielle didn't talk to each other in school.. but will that change when you you were forced to do a project together?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, english project, orange bowl being doing the most , non-idol! dani x non-idol! reader

it was nice to get away from the busy city of seoul and go to a quieter place like new castle.

you were new to australia. new to the culture, place, and people. your parents decided it was the best decision to send you abroad to australia during middle school to further improve your english.

the best word you could describe your time 2 year stay in australia so far was with was peculiar. you could never find something predictable while staying there, the variety of native animals and bugs, the people in your school, sometimes what street you were going down, and which beach was busy on what days.

however, there were things you found very predictable, what time shops would open, relatively what time the buses would arrive, and what time the convince shop open that you bought breakfast from.

then there was danielle, the girl in your english class. she fit into both of these categories. it was always easy to predict what people were going to say about her or how she was swarmed every day, but in contrast, you could never figure out her actions.

despite being the most popular person in the school, she always sat right next to you in english class. there were people clamming around you who would gladly have danielle sit next to themselves, but she always chose to sit next to you. the highlight of your day was when you could always see all her cute doodles in her notebooks and colorful highlighters spread out on her desk. both of you didn't talk that much in class or outside of class due to you both being in different groups.

she preferred to hang around her soccer teammates, and you tended to hang around art kids. never having the chance to see another. expect in class, where all you two shared was a quick glance and a smile at each other. however, that was all about to change one day with one fateful assignment.

"okay class! we're going to do partner assignments, and guess what we're doing by lotto! so everyone put your name down on a slip of paper and put it into this lovely orange bowl," your teacher stated.

she ripped a stack of sticky notes in half and told a student to distribute them as she looked back to her computer. as the sticky notes were being passed out, you could hear a couple of rows down a bunch of your classmates whispering about wanting to be with danielle for this project as they slowly walked up to the bowl, tossing the paper into the bowl. when you got your sheet of paper, you wished that danielle was your partner so you could finally muster the courage to talk to her.

slowly but surely, once the orange bowl of fate had filled out, soon the names were filed out along with reactions from students. what types of reactions were varied—some disappointment, happiness, maybe even confusion. but that all had stopped when danielle name was pulled out of the bowl. all the class was ever so curious of name that would be pulled out the bowl even you . imagine the shock when it was you who was pulled out of that fateful bowl. she had looked over you with a surprised face, reaching for your hands as she pulled them up and exclaimed, she exclaims out, "omg, y/n, my desk buddies, we get to be project buddies!!"

those six words, you were hooked. the rest of english class flew by as both of you exchanged numbers, promising that you would both text each other when you got home. you reassured your loudly beating hearts that this was purely for the project and not for any other reason.

when you arrived home, you received a small ding from your phone when setting it down to take off your shoes. you picked your phone up off the ground and set it, only to see that the notification was from no one other than dani.

danielle from english: hi, y/n!!! about the english project, is it ok that we meet up after school tmr so we can work on the project at my house

cutie from english: hi danielle!! yea tmr work just fine!! does meeting you at the front of school work?

danielle from english: you can call me dani! (if your comfortable) yep front of school work just fine!!

cutie from english: ok dani!! see you tmr!!

danielle from english: you too y/n!!

with that, you had returned to your aunt's apartment in melbourne, which she had graciously let you use during your stay for the past two years. plugging in your phone as you finished your other assignments on your laptop, looking up at the time from the living room floor where papers had been laid out. 8:00 p.m., deciding to make yourself dinner before passing out.

the day has passed sooner than expected, and now you are out front of the school, waiting for dani to come pick you up. scrolling on your phone while waiting near the school tree for her to come. 

"BOO!" a figure behind you said as you jumped, scared from the surprise attack. when you turned around, all you were met with was a smiling dani. "Hi y/n!!!" she said exciditely. "sorry for the scare, but you were too cute to resist," she giggled out.

she called you cute. your heart was beating loudly in your ears due to being scared (and well, dani too), but you smiled at her. "shall we go?" you said, reaching your hand out to dani. 

"we shall," dani said. both you and her were off towards her house. who knows? maybe both of you confessed to each other, but that's a story for another time. for now, you were content with having danielle to share the now with.

a/n: ngl this was harder to write than i thought it be also the text colours legit just remind of macdonald as this point- i cant never not unsee it!!! (HELP!))

[taylor-titmouse]

Shrinking Violet is out! another of @petitemortality R/L Monroe's wonderful erotic shorts, with another cover by yours truly >:) i've been saying it on nearly every promo post i make for this but if you're one of the people who has wanted me to write f/f, you're legally obligated to read this one. below is the sales copy, and then below that some discussion of the process for designing the cover!

Nobody at college knows that shy, nervous Maya had a 'bad boy' reputation in high school - and Maya is the only one who knows tough, rebellious Nasrin used to be a sweet-tempered teacher's pet. Mutual attraction is rekindled when their paths cross again, but the two find their old dynamics have been flipped on their head. Maya finally knows what she wants, and Nasrin is bold enough to give it to her...that is, if she can bring herself to ask. Will their first time be perfect the second time around? 7k words, EPUB and PDF format. This is the second in the Fuck Yourself Friday series of shorts. New stand-alone erotic stories are released on the last Friday of every month. FYF 1: Go Fuck Yourself These stories contain explicit sexual content, and are intended for 18+ audiences.

Contains: -F/tF -transfem sub -outdoor sex -praise kink -soft penis stimulation -non-penetrative sex

THUMBNAILS

this one was very straightforward with the request: "the image I have in my mind for a cover is someone's fingers knotted in a skirt spread out against wildflowers. but more in the sort of gripping your own skirt gently kind of way, somewhere between anxious and excited if that makes sense. I'm thinking like you know the classic soft grunge tumblr aesthetic photo vibe. type of shit you'd post next to a closeup of a skinned knee in long socks"

very easy instructions to follow! so while i usually prefer to do 3 thumbnails, i only ended up with 2. there's only so many ways you can depict a hand on a skirt, after all. and we decided that we wanted to continue with the style i established with the first one, with silhouettes, lineless art, and bold textures. we liked the first one more, but wanted to get some leg in there.

i proposed adding black pantyhose to the narrative to make it work on the cover (i have changed prose to match what i drew for illustrations Many times) but we went with bare leg in the end

FINISHING

so i didn't actually do a sketch for this one, just went straight to rendering. as we all know i use gradient maps a lot in my work, so i gave lee a choice between a bright, springy palette, and a wetter, darker palette. i also offered it with the border, or with the skirt going over it. personally i like the skirt going over it, but the border keeps it consistent and more book-cover-y, so we went with that. lee chose the darker palette, which suits the story much better

but the font didn't fit! too vintage for the story, which takes place in modern day.

fonts time :^)

we went with the third option for the contrast. and also added a raindrop to the flower (which got moved to the right petal in the final draft). gently touching petals, wetness, This Is Yuri.

and the final result is as above!

anyway you should all read this story, it's incredibly sweet childhood-best-friends-to-lovers and in itself a love letter to trans femininity. i highly recommend it, and it's only $3!

go and get it!

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Castiel's Guide to an Accidental Courting

Posting September 9, 2024

Fic by Siaice

Art by SoloArcana

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Castiel had long since given up hope of participating in Courting Season. No one would like to mate a clumsy Alpha with black wings, a loner who preferred to spend his free time gardening, studying animals and carving in wood, instead of doing some commanding job. So, why even bother? He had his patients, nature and his peace of mind. That’s all he ever needed. And if sometimes he wished for his friend to reciprocate his feelings… Well, that’s his little secret.

But why did Dean suddenly start invading his personal space? And why did he keep looking at him like that?

Dean, as the Omega son of the leader of the Earthly Angels’ flock, is expected to attend every Courting Season that happens in Heaven. Four times a year, every year, he has to say ‘no’ to random suitors (or a very stubborn one) because the only Alpha he wants can't take the damn hint.

But oh, why is Cas presenting his wings to him? Is it finally happening?!

Or:

A story about one idiot who thinks he’s being courted, and the other idiot who isn’t courting him at all.

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Angels, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Wing Fic, Wing Kink, Wing Grooming, Fluff, Slight Angst, Humor, Fantasy, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Courting Rituals, Courting Gifts, Courtship, Oblivious Castiel, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Mutual Pining, Castiel Has Self-Esteem Issues, Hunter Dean Winchester, Healer Castiel, Doctor Castiel, Carpenter Castiel, Demisexual Castiel, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Unrequited Michael/Dean Winchester, Past Bullying, Very Light Violence, Animal Death (in the past, random bird), Chase, Knotting, Mating Rituals, Mating Bond, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Happy Ending

Excerpt below the cut

“If you must know, I was researching bird habits for… fun.”

“Oh, yeah? I knew you were a nerd but even you must have better ways to entertain yourself than that,” Dean’s tone was playful, teasing, yet Castiel couldn’t reveal the real reason behind his dancing session, it could have ended up being humiliating or devastating.

Knowing he had nothing to lose - Dean had already caught him - Castiel decided that the best defense was an attack (as in surprise, not physical). Assuming quickly a crouching position, he spread his wings, bringed them slightly forward and started shaking them alternately up and down along with his arms.

Dean choked on his tongue, his eyes going wide, disbelieving in what he saw happening in front of him.

“What the hell?”

“The male ostrich’s courtship dance is much more animated than this, very gyrating and with wildly waving of his head - my neck is not adapted to such movements,” Castiel tried to recreate the motion he saw on the video with a poor result.

Trying to keep his balance, Castiel closed his eyes, therefore completely missing the flicks of the curious omega’s wings.

“They’re naturally quiet birds, but during the mating season they make loud, hollow-sounding booms to attract hens,” he shared, before he froze to reach deep inside himself to release a low, rumbling sound that puffed out his cheeks.

A loud burst of laughter forced him to lift his eyelids.

Dean looked so happy. He was laughing so hard he had to clutch his knees to avoid falling forward and had problems with catching his breath.

It was the most beautiful thing Castiel has ever seen in his life.

[tyuninthemirror]

— heartache on the big screen: c.sb

— pairing: non-idol!soobin x fem!reader — genre: angst — word count: 2270 — disclaimers: not proofread! adding of minor characters (lesserafim) — synopsis: you end up marrying choi soobin on the tv show 'married at first sight', but it ended up being a nightmare you could never wake up from. — series masterlist

— author's note: i'm starting the year with a comeback!! this was totally not on my masterlist but i lost interest in the other plots, so leaving this here for now!!

The sun was setting on a chapter of your single life that you had never expected to close so soon.

The world of "Married at First Sight" was an exhilarating whirlwind, filled with reality TV magic, unexpected emotions, and the thrill of uncertainty. And within that whirlwind was Choi Soobin, the man who, by some twist of fate or clever casting, had become your husband. Exactly what had you gotten yourself into?

You remember the first day on set, surrounded by nervous giggles from you and your friends as you wondered about the stranger you were about to marry. They were your support system, your cheerleaders, and your voice of reason when you doubted this crazy decision to marry someone you'd never met on television.

"Y/N, you look absolutely stunning!" Kazuha whispered as she adjusted your veil. "Whoever is waiting for you out there is going to be blown away."

Chaewon gave you a reassuring smile. "This is your special day. No matter what happens, we're here for you."

And then there was Soobin, standing at the altar with his childhood friends by his side. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Huening Kai all looked dashing in their sleek suits, their eyes shining mischievously for some reason that escaped you at the time. You caught Beomgyu elbowing Yeonjun and gawking at the sight of you.

As you walked down the aisle towards Soobin, your gaze locked onto his. He was tall and handsome, his eyes reflecting a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. It was like something out of a drama; your connection with him was immediate. Despite the excited whispers of your friends and murmurs of the audience, everything else seemed to fade away until it was just the two of you.

The ceremony was a blur of vows and promises, all under the watchful eye of cameras and lights. You didn’t know if it was because you were so engrossed in the moment or what, but there was something undeniably real in the way Soobin held your hands, the warmth of his touch reassuring you. Or maybe you were just being delusional, after all, you had just met.

"We are gathered here today to witness the union of Y/N and Soobin," the officiant began, his voice steady and clear. "This marriage is one of the heart, a union that began as a leap of faith but will grow into a lifelong commitment through mutual respect, patience, and love."

"Y/N, I may not have known you for long, but in the time that I have, you've already left an indelible mark on my heart. I promise to cherish you, to be there for you through every challenge, and to learn every day what it means to be your partner," Soobin's vow was heartfelt, his voice carrying a tremble that only you could detect.

Your own vows were a whisper, a promise to yourself as much as to him. "Soobin, I stand here before you, ready to embark on this journey together. I promise to give you my trust, my support, and my heart as we navigate this path that neither of us expected, but both of us chose."

The reception was a lively and vibrant affair, filled with the joyful sounds of laughter and the energetic movements of dancing. As Soobin's friends took to the dancefloor, their infectious energy spread throughout the room.

The fusion of your two worlds was evident in every aspect of the celebration - from the music to the decor to the diverse group of guests mingling together. Toasts were made to your happiness, to the serendipity of your match, and to the exciting adventures that lay ahead for you as a married couple.

Your own friends stood by your side, beaming with pride and joy for you. They watched with misty eyes as you were twirled around the dancefloor by Soobin, knowing that after all you had been through, this happy ending was well-deserved and long overdue.

As time went by, the cameras captured every moment of your newlywed life on television. You moved into a cozy apartment together and decorated it with a mix of both of your styles. Spending evenings cooking and having deep conversations about your hopes and fears, and discovering each other's quirks became a daily routine with Soobin. Each day felt like uncovering a new chapter in an unputdownable book.

Soobin was considerate, always leaving you sweet notes before heading off to work. "Have a wonderful day, Y/N! You're on my mind." His words never failed to bring a smile to your face, reminding you of the beauty that was blooming between you two in this unconventional marriage.

But as they say, reality has a way of disrupting the perfect storybook tale.

It was during a casual outing with Soobin's friends on a warm summer day when the harsh words pierced your ears. Arin, who had always been kind to you, was confronting Soobin with an intensity you had never seen before.

"I can't believe you actually went through with this wedding, Soobin," her voice cracked with disbelief and something else—hurt, maybe? The waves crashed against the shore in the background, their rhythm disrupted by the tension in the air.

"A dare?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to process the conversation unfolding before you.

“Arin, keep it down!” Soobin hissed in a panic, looking around to see if you or any of your friends were nearby. Your heart seemed to stop, the words echoing in your mind like a siren's call. The rest of the world faded away as you decided to take a step forward, turning to face them, searching Soobin's eyes for an explanation.

Soobin looked stricken, his eyes widening as he realized you had overheard. "Y/N, it's not like that. I—"

"Y/N, I'm sorry," Arin interjected, her gaze flitting between you and Soobin. "I never meant for you to find out this way. But before the show, Soobin made a bet with us. It was supposed to be a joke, a challenge to see if he could really get married at first sight for Yeonjun’s porsche. We never thought he'd actually do it."

You felt the room spin, your breaths coming in short gasps as you processed her words. The laughter and camaraderie of the group around you became a distant hum. "A joke?" your voice trembled as tears stung at your eyes. "Was I just a pawn in one of your games, Soobin?"

Sure, you knew joining the program was a tough decision for anyone signing up, but you had joined with hope in your heart. Hope of finding someone to spend the rest of your life with. But to hear that the man you married had only joined as a ploy to win a car shattered you.

"No, Y/N, please," Soobin reached for your hand, but you pulled away instinctively. "It started as a dare, but what I feel for you is real. I fell for you the moment I saw you. Everything we've shared, every moment, it's all real to me."

“Guys!” Taehyun popped up from behind you with a big smile, but stopped when he realized what was going on. His smile dropped when you dashed past him and into the main room where everyone was, Soobin hot on your heels, panic evident in his face.

His friends were silent, their eyes on the floor, on the walls, anywhere but on the unfolding drama. Your friends were quick to your side, forming a protective circle around you. Their faces were a mix of concern and anger, mirroring your own whirlwind of emotions.

"Y/N, we should go," Chaewon said firmly, her hand resting gently on your back.

You nodded numbly, barely able to speak as you followed them out of the beach house and onto the sandy shore. The crashing waves seemed to mock the chaos inside of you as you walked away from Soobin and his betrayal. His pleading calls echoed in your ears until finally fading into the distance as you made your way home, leaving behind a broken relationship and a shattered heart.

Your friends were fiercely supportive, providing comfort and reassurances that no matter what, you weren’t alone. But their anger towards Soobin was palpable, and it only served to deepen the ache in your heart. Even though the foundation of your relationship was now in question, you couldn't ignore the truth that your feelings for Soobin were real.

Soobin tried to reach out, his messages filling your phone with apologies and pleas for you to talk. You weren't ready to hear his explanations, not yet. The hurt was too fresh, the sense of betrayal too sharp. You knew you needed time to sort through the chaos of your emotions or you’d be the running joke at the end of this season.

As days turned into weeks, the space between you and Soobin seemed to stretch endlessly. You threw yourself into your work, into spending time with friends, into anything that could distract your mind from the haunting memories of him. But no matter how hard you tried, his presence lingered like a shadow, creeping up on quiet nights alone or during mundane moments like hearing a certain song on the radio.

Then one evening, a familiar knock came at your door. Your heart raced with a mix of dread and hope as you hesitated before answering. And there stood Soobin, his eyes weary and his posture uncertain.

"Y/N, I know I'm the last person you want to see right now," he began quietly. "But I had to try, one last time. Can we talk?"

You stepped aside, wordlessly letting him in. The apartment was filled with an awkward silence as you sat across from each other, the tension thick in the air.

"Soobin, why should I believe any words you say?" you asked coolly, trying to hide the turmoil churning inside.

"Because I'm not asking you to believe my words," he responded earnestly. "I'm asking you to believe my actions from here on out. I was foolish for agreeing to that dare, and I can't apologize enough for the pain I caused you. But what I felt for you from the moment we met, the connection that grew every day we spent together—that was never a lie. I love you, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you, if you'll let me."

His eyes held a sincerity that mirrored your own emotions. It was the same look he had given you on your wedding day, the same warmth that had comforted you during countless nights.

You didn't respond immediately, still unsure if forgiveness or reconciliation were even possible. But as you talked through the night, unraveling your feelings and fears, a fragile hope began to take root. Maybe there was still a chance for your story to have a different ending. You didn't want it to end like this.

Soobin's determination to make things right was evident in every action he took. He listened, he learned, and he loved with a vulnerability that was both new and familiar. And as the weeks turned into months, you could feel the walls you had built around yourself slowly coming down.

He started with small gestures of kindness, leaving coffee from your favorite café outside your door or sending you playlists of songs that reminded him of the good times you shared. There were no grand gestures or dramatic displays that would make for a perfect reality TV moment. Instead, there were heartfelt letters, peaceful walks in the park, and hours spent talking about everything and nothing at all.

Your friends watched cautiously as Soobin worked to mend the broken trust between you. They were understandably protective and skeptical, but they also saw the changes in you. The light returned to your eyes, and the weight on your shoulders lifted ever so slightly.

The guys, too, offered their apologies. They explained how the dare had been a foolish mistake, how they never imagined it would lead to real emotions and serious consequences. They stood by Soobin's side, but more importantly, they showed respect for the journey you were on.

Although the popular show "Married at First Sight" had long since aired its finale, your own personal relationship was quietly rebuilding itself, growing stronger from having weathered the storm together.

On a chilly autumn evening, Soobin invited you to the rooftop of your apartment building. The city lights shimmered below, and stars filled the sky above. It was on this tranquil rooftop, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, that Soobin reached for your hands.

"Y/N, I know I don't deserve another chance, but I am forever grateful for it," he confessed, his gaze unwavering as it met yours. "I can't change the past, but I promise to make every day a testament to my love for you in our future. Will you marry me, not just once but every day from now until eternity?"

His voice held vulnerability and his eyes pleaded with sincerity. It was all you needed to see the truth. Despite the unconventional journey and unexpected hurdles, the love between you two was genuine.

With tears of forgiveness and hope streaming down your face, you nodded in affirmation.

As you embraced each other on the rooftop, with the city lights below and stars above, you knew that this was truly just the beginning. No cameras or spectators, just you and Choi Soobin

[jakekiszkasleftnutsack]

Everything Is Fine - Part 1

Josh x f!reader x Jake

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Summary: While attending a New Year's Eve party with your boyfriend Jake, it becomes increasingly obvious that his older brother may have a thing for you. 

Warnings: +18 GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, scary pervy Josh, swearing, alcohol use, stalking, gaslighting, assault with a knife, mutual masturbation, masturbation with a foreign object, oral sex (f receiving), sexual coercion, teasing, kidnapping, slight dacryphilia, mentions of somnophilia, bondage/restraints, knife play, impact play, mentions of blood, allusions to non-consent, overall violence, please let me know if I missed anything!

W/c: 14.7k (yikes)

A/n: This is mostly Josh with a sprinkle of Jake. PLEASE carefully consider the warnings before diving into this one, it’s easily the most explicit thing I’ve ever written. I really didn’t hold back on this one and I use some kinks that could be very triggering to some so please please proceed with caution!! If the warnings don’t scare you though, have so much fun.

Vibes: Mx. Sinister - IDK HOW | Sugar - Sleep Token

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“Jake?! Have you seen my favorite panties?!” you call for your boyfriend as you search through your drawers for a hint of red lace. 

“Which ones?” Jake appears from around the corner, adjusting the cuffs of his neatly tailored suit, his dark hair tied in a low messy bun that allows a few tendrils to hang free. Leave it to Jake to dress down a new outfit with messy hair and an all-the-way-unbuttoned dress shirt, though you choose to put his questionable styling efforts lower on your list of priorities for the time being.

“The high-cut red lacy ones, with the matching bra. I wanna wear them to the party tonight.” 

He looks you up and down and bites his lip at the sight of you, wandering farther into the room to admire your half-dressed appearance. Having been stalled halfway through your dressing process, you’re rummaging through your wardrobe topless with only a black miniskirt and tall socks to cover your bottom half. 

“I thought those were just for special occasions?” He grips the round of your ass from behind while you continue to finger through the various fabrics.

“They are. That’s why I’m trying to find them.” You can’t help the tinge of annoyance present in your voice, but Jake is doing a wonderful job of distracting you from your wardrobe malfunction.  

“If you can’t find them, then what’s under here?” He lifts up the hem of your skirt to reveal an absence of underwear. He gasps excitedly and grins from ear to ear as if he’s just opened up a gorgeously wrapped present to find what he’s been asking for all year. Without a shred of hesitation, he grabs at your still frantic hands and tries to pull you away from the chest of drawers. “C’mere, baby. You can find them later.”

You groan in protest but giggle excitedly when you give up the reins and let him whip you around by the wrist, sending you hurdling into the bed. He climbs on top of you, leaving a sloppy trail of wet kisses down your neck, through the valley of your breasts, and down to the waistband of your skirt. 

He leaves a love bite at the joints of each of your thighs, gently pinching the sensitive skin between his teeth as he grazes you with the sharp edges. Tiny moans and mewls escape you, free of restraint. He transitions to focus on your clit, dipping his velvety tongue between your folds to flick it against the tiny bundle of nerves. The act itself begins excruciatingly slowly; he swipes quick, pointed flicks up the center every few seconds. He loves to drive you crazy - he knows how much harder you’ll cum if he teases you first, and watching your overstimulated body twitch under his touch is always worth the extra effort. 

He can tell you’re ready when your body starts to jolt every time he touches you with his tongue. He props himself up on his elbows so he can bring his hands in front of him and spread your lips, exposing more of your clit to the air for him to abuse. Your eyes have been glued to him, watching his beautiful mouth work over your most sensitive spots, making you feel like a goddess in the process. It’s no different when you watch him descend on your pussy with his tongue extended, and your body tenses under his touch in anticipation. 

He stops to look up at you and meet your gaze, which is desperate and pleading. “Relax.” 

You nod in response to his one word command, taking a deep breath before letting your back fall against the mattress. He then languidly circles your clit a few times and closes his lips around it, sucking it into his mouth to play with it how he knows you like it. You moan along with the wet lewd noises that occur as he drools all over you, coating you in a layer of wetness that you know will shine on his lips and chin when he’s finished. 

You let your hands fly to your breasts, twisting and pinching your nipples to add to the divine sensation. Your back arches and your thighs press against Jake's cheeks as you approach the bottom of the hill that leads to your eventual orgasm. You allow yourself to get lost in the feeling while gazing lazily at the shadows dancing across the ceiling in the golden late afternoon sunlight that pours into the room from the large picture window. 

The way he’s worshiping your body, switching between a pattern of long, soft strokes and suction, has all of your nerves on fire. Just as you think you’re approaching the peak, he flips the script, edging you so delicately that you’re not even sure you’d want him to finish you off just yet. You’d let him go on as long as he wants if it weren’t for the odd shadow that’s just materialized on your ceiling. It catches your eye, confusing you until you can pull yourself out of your daze long enough to realize that the new shadow is human-shaped. 

“Jake!” you gasp and bolt upright, your fight or flight response kicking in to help you pull your body out of its vulnerable position. Jake, caught completely off guard by your sudden upheaval, lets you go without much protest.

“What? What is it?” he asks, full of confusion and concern.

“I just saw someone,” you whisper. “Someone’s right outside the window, I saw a shadow.”

If he didn’t believe you, he didn’t show it. He’s probably internally rolling his eyes that his feast was disrupted by a shadow, but you are famously hard to spook. Jake holds up one finger, signaling for you to wait a moment, then brings the same finger to his lips to tell you to keep quiet while he checks it out. 

You grab one of the large fluffy pillows from the head of the bed and use it to cover yourself as Jake rises to his feet and approaches the window. He slinks up to it with his back to the curtains in a comically cartoonish way, he even clasps his hands in front of his chest like he’s holding a gun and narrows his eyes - like a silly little spy routine to try and calm your nerves. He looks at you and nods before peeking around the curtain. You know he expects there to be nothing, but you hold your breath despite his best efforts. 

After looking both ways and ducking to see past the foliage, Jake turns back around and shrugs his shoulders. “There’s nobody out here, babe. Coast is clear.”

“Are you sure?” You’re apprehensive to drop your protective pillow just yet. 

“You can come see for yourself if you want, but it looks like the sun’s just hitting the trees in a weird way.”

“I believe you, it just... scared me.” 

“Don’t worry, beautiful - everything’s fine. I’ll just close the curtains so I can keep making you feel good. How’s that sound?” 

“Okay, Jakey...” 

He returns to his place in front of you and pulls your safety pillow from your grip, tossing it to the floor before descending between your legs once again. 

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Sam throws a New Year’s Eve party every year. The tradition began when Kiszka siblings were young and they hosted all their friends at the family home. Since growing up and moving to separate houses, the baby of the family has taken on the role. Every party since they moved to Nashville has been a rager. All kinds of people in the music industry are in attendance, along with family, friends, and friends of friends. For all intents and purposes, the energy has never changed, and it’s felt like a college house party since its conception. 

This is your first year in attendance, and your first time visiting Sammy’s house at all. Granted, you did plan on making a good impression on all Jake’s friends, but being three margaritas deep by 10 pm does make that a bit of a challenge considering you’d lost sight of your intentions somewhere at the bottom of a red solo cup.

“Sammyyyyyy, could you make me another one pleeeeease?” You flash what you think is a dazzling smile at Sammy, but it probably reads as goofy.

“Sure, just after this game.” He shakes his head and smiles at your charmingly exaggerated expression when he sees it out of the corner of his eye. He’s lining up the ping pong ball held ever so lightly in his hand to toss at one of a few sparse cups, half-full of a randomly chosen liquor. At the end of the table opposite Sammy, stands Jake with his arms crossed and a cocky shit-eating grin plastered on his face. That look has been there for the last couple of rounds as the number of cups on Sam's end of the table has steadily dwindled - Sam has not had the same luck. 

Of course, they’re facing each other one-on-one; the second anyone offered to join a team they were likely swiftly shut down. Their overly competitive nature has made for an entertaining show, having gained them the attention of a handful of onlookers for about twenty minutes now. You stumble to join everyone on the couch, half-falling into the lap of a very high Danny, who allows your head to fall on his shoulder. Waiting patiently isn’t your forte, but since the room has started to spin you watch the rest of the game play out with a peeved, yet still slightly smitten, expression.

Sam’s toss misses, much to his dismay, though Jake looks to be happy about it, even though he shrugs and fakes a sympathetic ‘aww’. The small audience grips the edge of their seats as Jake assumes the position to make his next move. He tosses it effortlessly and sinks it, followed by a pump of his fist and a groan from Sammy, who reluctantly takes that cup from play and downs the contents. You’re thankful that your previous experience with beer pong has equipped you with at least a loose grasp on the rules, so it doesn't come as a surprise to you when Jake throws his final ball, spinning it around the rim of the last cup on Sam’s side. Sam blows on it furiously, but to no avail - it plops into the brown liquid despite his effort to stop it. 

“Fuck!” Sam shouts in frustration and nearly puts his fist through the table as Jake throws his hands up in triumph. Jake goes around high-fiving everyone and Sammy downs the remnants of bitter defeat.

“Who wants to challenge the king next?!” Jake's voice booms with the sense of pride he gained from besting his brother in a game that was probably invented by teenagers. You pout as Jake immediately gets pulled into another game, allowing you no time to intercept him before he starts reforming the pyramid of cups. 

“Come on, little sis.” Sam juts his hand out to you, offering you to take it so he can pull you both away from the scene. “Let’s get you another Sammy Special.” 

You give a half-hearted smile at his kind tone, which he returns when you take his hand and tease him lightheartedly. “Okay, but it better be a stiff one this time. No more of that watered down shit.”

“Oh, ouch. You wound me, I’m wounded!”

He leads you through the house to the kitchen, zig-zagging past a few dozen people you don’t recognize. You do your best to find your footing, but being a certified lightweight, paired with the fact that Sam had actually given each of your drinks a heavy pour, you struggle a little bit with maintaining your upright position. 

You almost make it to the kitchen unscathed, but as you turn the corner into the large kitchen and Sam lets go of your hand, having incorrectly assumed that you could navigate on your own, you fail to dodge a corner of the kitchen counter. Your hip and thigh take the brunt of it, and you’re surely be Jake will likely find an ugly purple blotch there when he lifts your skirt later. The shock and sharp pain disorient you enough to send you spiraling, and you feel yourself falling for a moment before being caught by a pair of firm hands. 

“Jesus, y/n!” Josh exclaims as he tries to steady you by the shoulders. You count yourself lucky that he was passing by at the exact same time - if he hadn’t been then you’d have a front row seat to Sam’s tile floor. 

“Hiya, Joshy.” You greet the blurry outline of Jake's twin with slurred enthusiasm.  

“You okay?” Josh takes on a stern tone. Paired with the scowl on his face, he’s exuding a protective quality that you can’t take seriously in your current state. 

“I’m a little wobbly.” Incessant giggles bubble up from your chest. 

He rolls his eyes at you, picks you up by the waist, and plops you onto the countertop. “Be more careful, or I’m gonna cut you off for the night.”

“It’s a special occasion, don’t be such a grandpa!” 

“Yeah, Josh. No one likes a buzzkill,” Sam adds - because there’s no way he would ever pass up an opportunity to be a little shit. 

You snort under your breath, trying to hold in a cackle and Sam laughs, turning to the cocktail ingredients he had begun assembling. Josh’s lips press into a hard line as his hands leave you so he can turn to open the fridge.

“Soooo, little sis..” Since you started dating Jake, Sammy took every opportunity to call you that. It was annoying at first but you’ve grown to like it. His youngest sibling syndrome is just part of his charm. “How’s domestic life treating ya?”

“Oh, just as normal and happy as two people can be while living in separate apartments.” 

“Jake won’t move you in?” His eyes stay trained on the task in front of him.

“He says he wants to get a house instead of trying to fit us both into a one bedroom, but every time I show him a listing he finds something wrong with it.” You harumph. 

”He’s not avoiding it, is he? Cause I’ll kick his ass if he’s not treating you right.”

You ponder the question for a moment. “No, I don’t think so - we just have polar opposite tastes. I’d pay good money to see that fight, though. My money’s on Jake.” 

“Pfft. Mine too.” His response makes you giggle. 

Josh turns around with a beer in his hand, shutting the door to the fridge and leaning against it to face you and Sam. “I’m not so sure - Sam’s pretty scrappy.”

Sam raises his eyebrows and waves a finger in Josh’s direction, agreeing with Josh’s sentiment. 

“True, but Jake likes to play dirty.” Your inflection drops unconsciously as an image of Jake sweaty and shirtless trying to wrestle you to the ground intrudes on your thoughts.

The boys look at each other in confusion for a moment before Sam adds, “No, he doesn’t?”

You bite your lip, making no effort to shove off the memory. What started out as play fighting had quickly developed into one of the roughest nights of passionate angry sex you’d ever experienced. Hardly a day goes by that it doesn’t make an appearance in your daydreams. You know that’s a completely different circumstance from a fist fight, but you reckon a few of his special skills might come in handy. “He does. Trust me.”

You don’t notice Josh clench his teeth, causing the muscles on his angular jaw to flex, but you do hear Sam exaggerate an audible gag. “Save it, sis. I don’t need you soaking my kitchen - people eat here.”

“Oh, Jake’s pretty good at that too.”

Sam opens his mouth to say something, but Josh ruins his opportunity for rebuttal by choking on the sip of beer he was in the process of swallowing. He sputters, causing spurts of beer to shoot out of his mouth and dribble down the hairs on his lower lip.

“Jesus, bro. You good?” Sam tries to hold in the laugh that accompanies the concern for his brother.

Josh just nods while he wipes his face on the back of his hand then turns to set down his bottle on the counter behind him and grab a few napkins. You’re not sure if he sets it down too hard or misses the counter entirely, but you watch in powerless astonishment as it tumbles past the edge of the counter to the ground. The bottle shatters on impact, sending bits of glass spinning across the tile in all directions. 

“Shit. Fuck, I’m sorry Sammy.” He sounds flustered, and quickly looks around for something to help the issue before bending down to pick up pieces of glass with his hands. 

“Wait, Josh! You’re gonna-“

“Ah! FUCK!” Before you can properly warn him, he mistakenly grabs a particularly sharp edge with a closed fist, cutting a gash in his hand in the process. 

“Josh! Oh my god!” you shriek when he jumps back up in shock.

He doesn’t look up from his hand - he just ignores your frantic instruction to apply pressure on the now dripping wound in favor of staring at it looking cross. His brow is creased and his lips curl up like he’s about to yell at it for misbehaving. 

“Sam, go get the first aid kit,” you instruct, pointing him off to a random direction since you don’t actually know where it is, if he has one. 

“Don’t, it’s fine.” Holding his bleeding hand out in front of him, he turns on his heel and storms out of the kitchen in a hurry. A few glass shards crunch under his shoes, leaving you and Sammy staring after him cluelessly. 

“What the hell was that?” he asks, completely baffled. He’s looking back and forth between you and where Josh once stood while holding a napkin and a plastic cup, like a sim who’s just had all his actions canceled. 

“Probably just an accident… I don’t know though, he was acting really weird.” You look down at the mess of glass and amber liquid as Sam pulls a couple towels from a drawer.

“Must’ve been drunker than he looked.” He shrugs, laughing it off, and you share a knowing glance.

“I really thought he could hold his liquor better than that.” 

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As excited as you were to mingle with everyone at the party in theory, without Jake it’s proved to be incredibly boring. You were able to chat with Sam and Danny for a while after assisting with a bit of kitchen cleanup, but even they were eventually pulled away in different directions. Now, you’re stuck wandering about the house, being pulled into conversations left and right by strangers eager to ogle at Jake’s shiny new toy. It was one conversation after another about the most meaningless bullshit known to man.

You find yourself checking your phone every minute or so, until the time reads 11:42 - an acceptable enough time to find Jake and gather him for the obligatory New Year countdown. Your first instinct is to check back at the pong table where you saw him last, but it’s since been abandoned. There’s no sign of him on the main floor though, leaving you to march yourself up the stairs in search of your lost lover on the upper level. 

You will be forcing him into a New Year's kiss whether he likes it or not. 

A few people are scattered amongst the many rooms and halls of Sam’s second floor, but allegedly nobody has seen him. You call his name once or twice, only gaining you a few disgruntled looks from partygoers instead of a response.

You crack open a few doors to scan the space for occupants, but most seem to have flocked back downstairs - at least, you suspect so, since most rooms have been vacated or are dark entirely. The last room at the end of the corridor does have a soft light shining from the crack underneath the door. Based on deductive reasoning alone, you believe it’s probably the second floor powder room. In your slightly inebriated state, you forego a customary knock and give the handle a twist, leaning on the door with your shoulder to push it open. 

“Jakey?! Is that you in there?”

You’re not sure what you really expected to find. Perhaps your beautiful, godly boyfriend, disheveled on the floor or flung over the toilet bowl, spewing out the results of a lost game of beer pong. Maybe even a stranger in the midst of relieving themself. Pretty much anything except what you actually find inside. Standing rigidly with his shoulders hunched in front of the sink, peering intensely into the mirror, is Josh. His hand that was cut earlier in the night is holding a wad of red fabric to his face, covering his mouth and nose - his other hand pumping furiously over his angry, erect cock.

It takes him a moment to realize he’s no longer alone, giving you an unobstructed view until he notices you out of the corner of his eye. When he does see you standing on unstable legs, watching him with wide eyes as you try to register exactly what you’ve stumbled upon after practically falling into the bathroom, he doesn’t stop entirely. Instead, his fist twists around the shaft and slows to a steady pace, as if hitting the pause instead of putting an end to the show.

“Close the fucking door, y/n.” His voice is muffled slightly when he speaks into the cloth bunched between his fingers that he doesn’t bother to drop.

“I- Um. I- I’m so sorry,” you stammer awkwardly, trying to peel your eyes away from the alarming scene. Just as you’re about to turn away and pull the door shut behind you, you catch the glistening pink tip twitch after emerging from the squeeze of a downward pull.

Safely in the hallway, you roll your back onto the door frame and let your body slide until your ass hits the ground and your knees meet your chest. You take a deep breath and cover your face with your hands, reeling from the embarrassment and guilt you’ve thrust on yourself by being so careless. You’re sure your cheeks must be beet red and getting redder by the second as you recount the last thirty seconds in your head.

Why didn’t he cover himself?

Is he still going at it?

Was that a bloody rag he was holding?

Did he come up here to clean his cut and get off on the bloody smell?

Holy shit, Josh has a blood kink???

Suddenly, the bathroom door flies open once more and the hallway is flooded with yellow light. Peeking through the cracks of your fingers you can see that Josh comes sauntering out slowly, moves to the wall opposite where you’re sitting and leans against it. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, so you keep your face covered, holding onto the little comfort it brings you for dear life. 

Maybe, if I hold really still, he’ll just go away.

Unfortunately, no amount of wishful thinking would ever get Josh to leave you alone in a state like this.

“So, we’ve got a voyeur on our hands, hmm?” You can’t tell if the accusatory nip in his voice is completely serious or not. Surely he can’t be serious, obviously, there was no way for you to have known what was happening behind a closed door.

You allow your hands to drop to your lap and face him directly, deciding he needs to see the sincerity on your face, no matter how uncomfortable it ends up being. His eyebrow is raised at you suspiciously and his arms are crossed tightly against his chest. His other appendage is thankfully tucked back into his pants and hidden away.

“It’s not like that...It was an accident Josh, really. I'm sorry. I was just looking for Jake.”

“Ahh, Jacob - He’s probably outside with everybody else. It is almost midnight.” He raises one arm to mimic viewing the time on his watchless wrist.

As much as you’d like answers to your questions, you count yourself thankful that Josh seems eager to move on and instead ask, “Wait, why is everyone outside?”

“It’s tradition for everyone to jump in the pool at midnight.” One corner of his mouth turns up slightly as he likely recalls a fond memory or two. “Sam started it when we were kids - it sort of caught on.”

“Isn’t it fucking December right now? The pool’s probably freezing.”

“Yeahhhh, it used to be pretty bad but Sam’s pool is heated. Actually, I’m pretty sure he had the heater installed for that exact reason.”

You mouth a ‘wow’ but ultimately accept this knowledge with a nod. There’s a moment of silence between you that you want to fill, but you’re not quite sure where to begin. Being mildly drunk surely isn’t helping to clear your head either. 

This is just Josh we’re talking about here. You’ve known him and his brothers for years before you and Jake even started dating - it shouldn’t be this difficult to talk to him. He’s the kind one, the understanding one, the…

“Just say what’s on your mind. I won’t bite.”

…the intuitive one.

You chew on your lip and look away, trying to organize everything whizzing through your mind into at least one coherent thought - which his piercing expectant stare is doing nothing to help. Should you start with the fact that you just witnessed your boyfriend’s twin brother doing the salami slap in his younger brother’s bathroom on New Year’s Eve, or make something up and say literally anything else? You wish more than anything that it could be the latter, but you know that Josh won’t be letting you off on a lie. 

With a deep breath for strength, you look back up at his sweet eyes and do your best not to look like the whole situation is causing you pain. To avoid any further embarrassment, you resolve to scrape up the bare minimum that’ll get him off your back. “You’re not mad at me are you?”

“No, silly. You said it was an accident, I have no reason not to believe that.” He chuckles lightly under his breath, sounding surprised and a little relieved.

“Okay... Are you going to tell Jake?” You go back to staring at your hands as your stomach flips at the thought. 

“Why?”

“Even if you’re not mad, he might be.” 

“Then.. it depends.” He tips his head back a bit so he’s looking at you with hooded eyes, making it difficult for you to really read them. “Did you like it?”

You don’t make any effort to stop the look of incredulity that you know is there. “What? Of course not. Why would you ask me that?”

“No reason.” A nasty smirk crawls onto his lips as he starts walking away, “You were just staring for a really long time, that’s all. Thought I saw you drooling.” He throws his one last remark over his shoulder before turning the corner and leaving you alone on the floor, completely dumbfounded.

Was I drooling?

Whether or not you liked it hadn’t really crossed your mind. You want to say no - it was jarring and unexpected, and it made you feel wrong - but your gut reaction when being asked if you enjoyed seeing so much of Josh is not to say no, just that it looks so much like Jake’s.

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

Josh was right. The party has mostly shifted to the backyard, where everyone is scattered around the edge of Sam’s luxurious pool. They’re mingling and drinking to classic rock music, surrounded by steam from the warmth of the pool reacting to the crisp night air. You spot Jake talking to Sam, only half listening to whatever he’s saying while scanning the crowd to look around for you with a determined expression. You find it charming that he acts like a little lost puppy without you, and when he sees you walking towards him he lights up just like one would after not seeing their owner for too long. He politely excuses himself from his conversation and meets you halfway, interlocking his arm with yours and planting a sweet kiss on your cheek as soon as you’re within reach.

“Where were you?” he mumbles against your skin, holding you close to him for just barely longer than necessary, but his touch is extremely welcome at the moment.

“Oh…nowhere. I’ve just been trying to find you and got a little lost.”

“Lost, huh?” He lets his mouth hang for a moment after the last syllable like he were to chew on it, pondering the meaning of the words as they come out. 

“Yeahhh, but I ran into Josh and he pointed me out here.”

“Well…good thing - you barely made it.”

A handful of people start the countdown and gradually everyone joins in until the whole party is calling out the final seconds to midnight. Jake takes both your hands in his and smiles, giving them each a light squeeze. 

5, 4, 3, 2…

Beautifully overdressed people position themselves at the edge of the pool, playfully pushing others out of the way to keep themselves perfectly poised to jump. On the final count, there’s a roar of noises, cheering, popping, and drunken partygoers fall into the warm water like quarters in an arcade game. Amidst all the chaos, Jake delicately presses his lips to yours, and you enjoy a magical moment together until you’re unceremoniously thrown into the pool. 

The commotion and size of the pool have created what’s essentially a human soup. You’re underwater just briefly but somehow still manage to get kicked by at least two people. To your relief, when you extend your legs they’re met with concrete and you’re able to stand and make your way back to the edge. 

“Why’d you do that?! Fuck, now I’m soaked!” You pout through the streams of water rolling off your face.

”I thought you jumped!” 

You grab your shoes by the heels and yank them off to toss them onto the concrete before you reach for the hand Jake has bent down to offer. He clasps two hands around your one to help you clear the edge of the pool without risking a slip.

“Alright, somebody better fess up. Who thought it would be funny to push her?” He raises his voice as he turns to look around for the presumed perpetrator.

“Whatever, just leave it - it doesn’t matter.” Goosebumps pucker your skin, causing you to shiver in the crisp air. You fold your arms over your torso to conserve some of your body heat, but your hair and clothes cling to you in an uncomfortable way that you’re not at all fond of. “I wanted to go home anyway.”

“What? No, we can’t leave yet! You’ll be dry in no time babe, we’re not leaving.”

“Jake, my clothes are basically see through now and my hair is ruined. I want to leave.” You speak matter-of-factly, letting him know that you’ve put your foot down.

He sighs dramatically, making it obvious that he’s probably seeing this as an overreaction on your part. You roll your eyes and adjust your stance to jut your hip out and throw your arms up just enough for him to view your torso, showing him how your white shirt is essentially acting as a second skin. The tight satin top leaves little to the imagination on its own without the added help of being soaked all the way through - your red lace bra now fully on display.

“Alright, fine,” he finally caves with a huff, but you can tell he’s trying to conceal a smirk when he adds, “You’re too fucking hard-headed for your own good.” 

“But, you love me, right?” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a blessing and a curse. Here, take the keys and start heating up the car. I’ll run inside and grab you some towels.”

You place a peck on his cheek and grab the keys from him in a hurry before parting ways. Your teeth start to chatter as you make your way down the neatly landscaped path to the garden gate that leads to the front of the house. 

It’s not a long walk to the side street where Jake had parked, but your overstimulated state is making it easy for you to become annoyed that he didn’t park in the driveway like he usually would. “We should keep the front of the house free for people that aren’t as familiar with the area as we are,'' he had said to you when you complained about walking a block and a half with heels on. You make a mental note to scold him for it later. 

As you approach the familiar black Jeep, your quickly numbing fingers fumble with the key fob to unlock it, and you slide yourself into the passenger seat as soon as you hear it click open. Once the vehicle breathes to life, you select the highest temperature option on the dash, immediately wincing away from the cold air that blasts from the vents. It only takes a moment before it starts to warm and your tight muscles relax.

Everything touching you is overwhelming, the damp clothing has started to irritate your skin in some places and you worry it might leave you with a rash. You do what you can to get comfortable by starting to remove your jewelry, placing it in one of the empty cup holders. Just as you’re unclasping your necklace, the cabin lights come on and the driver's side door opens for the familiar build of your boyfriend.

“Hey, where are the towels? Seriously? You had one job,” you whine at the lack of sweet fluffy relief in his hands until he actually enters the car, and you realize it isn’t Jake at all. “Josh? What are you doing?” 

“Well, hello to you too, missy. We’re gonna go for a little drive. Just sit back and relax.” Once he’s situated the seat to his liking and adjusted the mirrors accordingly, he turns to flash you his famous toothy smile. 

“Uhh, Jake’s just grabbing towels… he’s gonna be right back and then we’re going home.”

“What? You mean this isn’t my car?” He looks around in faux shock for a moment, then shakes his head and laughs at his own joke. His laugh sounds normal at first until it evolves slightly, becoming creepy and maniacal right there in the moment. You want to tell him to stop, but it ends with a sigh and a single clap of his hands.

“Quit fucking around, Josh.” He’s been known to play a prank every once in a while, but never one that makes your palms sweat and heart race quite as much as this. 

This is the third incident tonight... He must be coked out of his fucking mind or something...

“I’m afraid this isn’t a joke, babe.” He pulls a knife from somewhere in his khaki jacket, and flips it around in his hands to point it in your direction just a foot or so away. His eyes darken, becoming dead serious. “We’re gonna go for a drive, and you’re not gonna make a fuss, alright?” 

“Seriously, cut it out. This isn’t fucking funny. Jake is coming back any second.” Your senses are seconds away from overdrive. The sight of the glistening metal has you reflexively pulling away from him and your hand hovering near the door handle, ready to make a break for it if necessary. Your eyes flicker from the knife to his face, and his jump from your face to your hand and back.

“You know what, you’re right.” He turns his hand to point the knife away from you. “I’ve made a grave mistake. What was I thinking playing such a cruel prank on my brother’s beloved? I’m sorry y/n, I’ll just see myself out.” 

“…N-no it’s okay. I just thought-“

Before you can finish your sentence, or do anything to react at all, Josh clenches his fist around the handle, sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, and whips his arm around to your side of the car. The butt of the knife connects with your skull, and the force knocks you completely unconscious.

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

It’s not difficult to open your eyes when you come to, but it is difficult to see in the darkness. You’re sure you’re laying on your back, and you’re sure you’re in the backseat of a car, but you’re not sure of much else beyond that. You attempt to lift your head to look around but find it unexpectedly difficult to lift the weight, dropping it back down with a groan.

Fuck, how much did I drink? I haven’t blacked out like that in a while…

“Welcome back to the land of the living, sunshine.” The singsongy voice confuses you more than anything, as it’s not the one you expected to hear.

“Jakey?”

“I must’ve hit you pretty hard, huh? I’d appreciate it if you don’t make me do that again.” His voice is coming from somewhere by your legs, paired with the sound of smacking wet kisses.

“...Josh?” You try your hardest to shake the fog that’s clouding your mind. 

I think I remember hitting my head.

He doesn’t answer you, so you focus on what he said to hopefully gain enough clarity to piece it all together. Falling into the pool unexpectedly was pretty sobering, but it’s starting to come back to you how you came to be in this situation. 

He said he hit me, he knocked me out. He must have taken me somewhere.

You find enough strength to try and move again. At first, you can only wiggle a bit, so you attempt to move your arms to assist you in sitting up, only to find that they’re duct taped behind your back. 

“What’s happening?” Your heartbeat quickens until it’s beating so hard and fast that you can hear it in your ears.

“Try not to panic, princess. The more you struggle, the more I might not be able to control myself.” When he exhales, you can feel the heat feather across your skin. You force yourself to finally lift your head so you can scan down the length of your body. Your still-soaked bra has been pushed up to your neck and your shirt has been ripped open, or rather cut by the silver blade held in Josh’s hand near the waistband of your skirt. The skirt itself is still in its place, but the damp expanse of your stomach is being caressed over and over by continuous laps of Josh’s tongue.

“What are you doing?! Get the fuck off of me!”

“Awww, now I know you don’t mean that. You loved it in your sleep, you even moaned a few times,” he teases as you try to squirm away, yet he holds you still, even when you try to kick him away with your knees, your only available form of defense.

“I don’t care! Let me go, you fucking asshole!”

“Oh, but the night is so young! We’re just getting started!” No matter how hard you try to fight him, he’s obviously loving this, evidenced by a growing grin curling over his teeth.

“Getting started with what? What are you gonna do with me? Kill me?” You spit your words at him, stilling your fruitless thrashing in an effort to catch your breath.

“I didn’t plan on killing you, but we are gonna have some fun. I have to get you inside first though, then I can tell you.”

“I’ll scream.”

“Go ahead and scream all you want, nobody can hear you out here. Your screams are all mine tonight.” His goofy smile is something you’d grown to love, but now, in this darkness, there’s a perverse sinister quality - like something has possessed the kind man you used to consider one of your closest friends. 

“…Let me go, Josh. I won’t tell anyone.”

“No way in hell, princess. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” He first replaces your bra, then flips the handle on the door and shoves it open, finding his footing outside the car before adjusting his grip on you and the knife pressed to your stomach.

“Stop fucking calling me that.” 

He smirks at your defiance as he stands up, pulling you with him and protecting your head from the top of the car with his hand. 

Now outside, you realize you’re in a wooded area dense with trees in every direction you can see. Directly ahead of you is a small, run-down cabin. The steps up to the front porch are slightly bowed and the paint is peeling off the side paneling. Though it seems like it should be abandoned, a gentle glow coming from the frosted windows makes it clear someone has recently been inside, if they aren’t currently. 

“Where are we?” 

You shiver as whips of cold from the breeze bite at the wet spots on your breasts and stomach where Josh had been enjoying himself. 

“You don’t really know how kidnappings work, do you?” You ignore the tinge of embarrassment that you feel when he laughs at you. “I own this place, so you don’t have to worry about anyone disturbing us.” He kicks the car door shut before guiding you towards the small building with a tight grip on your bicep, the tip of the knife he threatened you with slotted firmly against the small of your back. “Just be a good girl and I’ll worry about the rest, can you do that for me?” 

Now that you realize there’s no shred of hope that this is just some fucked up joke, your racing heart kicks into overdrive, forcing you into fight or flight mode. There’s no stopping the gradual frantic increase in your voice when you respond, “No, Josh. Please - Please let me go, someone, help me please!”

Josh groans and lets out a scream of his own, matching your volume. “Oh no, someone help! She’s been taken! I’m a madman! I told you, there’s nobody around to answer.”

The growing feeling of complete and utter helplessness causes your lower lip to quiver, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing all the hope drain out of you in real time. Once you’ve reached the front porch, he drags your thrashing body up the steps to the large, aged door. There, he twists the knob and in one swift motion, he pushes it open and shoves you inside. 

You stumble momentarily, but catch yourself in time to look around and get a handle on your bearings. It’s small inside - just one spacious room with one corner sectioned off to be a dedicated kitchenette, and an alcove on the far end of the room that’s taken up entirely by a king-size bed. Two doors sit against another wall, and one of them has been left ajar, allowing you just enough of a view inside to recognize it as a bathroom. Even though the small space is sparsely-lit by a soft, warm light, the decor itself prevents it from feeling cozy. The ceilings are vaulted, giving it a false sense of spaciousness, and all the furniture is clearly catered to Josh’s expensive taste. The bed is adorned with furs, the walls are decorated with visually pleasing but pretentious artwork, and in the middle of the open space is a table set with candles and fine china. Wine and strawberries had been set out on the dark wood ahead of time. The spread would be inviting if it weren’t for Josh’s menagerie of tools - zip ties, duct tape, rope, a handful of pills in an unlabelled bag, and a small array of weapons are all laid out next to the plates like they belong there. 

“What the hell is this?”

“I never got the chance to show you how much happier I could make you. So, now I’m gonna spend the night trying to prove it to you.” Even though he’s turned away from you to lock the door, you can hear the sick smile in his voice, and you suddenly realize he’s presented you with a golden opportunity. 

You know you’ve only got a split second; your brain is foggy from panic, weighed down by the last lingering effects of alcohol, but you try to push it all aside. Your eyes flick around frantically in search of a way out, but there's nothing that would offer you a quick enough escape from the cabin before Josh could stop you. Before you can really make up your mind, your feet are deciding for you - you sprint toward the bathroom as fast as you can manage in your battered state. You don’t dare look back when his heavy footfall hits the floor just a step behind you, but you’re able to slip through and shut the door with your shoulder. You try to choke back violent, terrified sobs as you brace your back against the door, but you can’t suppress the scream that spills out when he throws his body against it seconds later. The wood is old and you can hear it cracking under the pressure as you blindly fumble for the lock with your bound hands. 

Somehow, you manage to find and press it - even with the lock in place, adrenaline keeps your back glued to the door. The extremely heightened emotion, mixed with the sudden physical labor, puts the bitter taste of bile in your mouth as your tightened stomach threatens to spill its contents with each heaving breath. 

There’s no evidence of a light switch in the obvious places, so you let your knees buckle under you from pure exhaustion, and you slide down the worn lacquer into a puddle of tears on the floor. You squeeze your eyes closed tight and wish away the rattling of the door knob as Josh twists it frantically from the other side. Every few seconds, another determined slam against the door causes you to jump until it ceases abruptly. 

The absence of noise is somehow more disturbing than its counterpart, like a calm before the storm that’ll come whenever Josh decides to take an ax to the barrier standing between you and him. The silence carries on for just a tad longer than you’re comfortable with and your curiosity overcomes your nerves - you press your ear against the door to listen for movement. You attempt to quiet your sobs, reducing them to muted chokes for breath from your tired lungs and pray he won’t hear you.

Through the door comes a frustrated grunt and a single pound of his fist against the thin wood. “I knew you were feisty but damn… You’ve got some fucking nerve.”

“I’m not doing this! I’m not taking part in your sick role play!” you scream into the darkness, louder than necessary for such a tight space - you could whisper against the wood and he would probably be able to hear it.

“You’re already a part of it.” You could hear the goading grin in his tone, but he sounds like his patience is waning when he pointedly informs you, “And you can’t stay in there forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to come out. This’ll all go much smoother if you just let yourself enjoy it.”

Somewhere in the folds of your panicked brain, you know he’s right, but you’re clutching to your naive optimism like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered down. You squeeze your eyes shut, swallow back the lump at the back of your throat, and whisper to yourself, “Jake will come - he’ll realize something is wrong and then he won’t stop until he finds me.”

Between the obstacle of the wooden door and the jagged, uncontrollable breaths you’re taking, you’re not sure how he hears you, but you know he has when he puts on an air of false pity to tell you, “Jake’s not coming, princess.” 

With your literal life on the line, it’s probably the last thing you should be worried about, but the way he says it feels demeaning. Your blood boils a little more every time, and now that you’ve reached your limit, you grit your teeth and scream, “I’M NOT YOUR FUCKING PRINCESS, JOSH!” 

A heavy silence haunts the pause he takes before speaking again.

“I find your temper charming, but you’d better watch how you speak to me.” He threatens through grit teeth, making him sound as though he’s barely restraining himself from tearing you limb from limb. “Just think about it. He was expecting to take you right home - so he must have come back to find you and his car missing. He could easily find out where you are from your phone’s location, which I have right here in my pocket. Don’t you think that if he was going to save you, he’d be here already?”

He has a point. Why hasn’t Jake shown up?

“Look,” he continues. “I know you’re scared, but I didn’t bring you all the way out here and set this shit up just to hurt you.”

“Then let me go.” A lump the size of a boulder settles in your throat, you try not to let it affect your voice. 

“I also didn’t go through all this trouble just to let you go as soon as I got you here.”

Okay, think. How do I get out of here as painlessly as possible?

I could wait in here but I don’t know if he’s crazy enough to break the door down. He could be lying, he could have disabled GPS on my phone or thrown it wherever and that’s why Jake hasn’t shown up with the cops yet. 

What if I do what he wants, will he let me go when he’s finished with me?  

“I’m not gonna wait around forever.” The anger dripping from his voice gives it an eerie quality, severe enough to raise the hair on the back of your neck. 

“Hold on. If I come out…will you promise not to hurt me?”

“I never planned on hurting you.” 

Part of you wants to believe him, but you know that’s a mistake you can’t afford to make. Never in a million years did you think you’d be stuck weighing whether or not this kind soul could be capable of murder. You’re not sure how much time you lost to unconsciousness, but just a few hours ago you would have trusted him with anything. Now, you don’t know what to think. What else has he lied about? Is he lying now? Probably. Either way, it’s a gamble, but which is the better bet? 

Light pangs of metal hitting wood come from where Josh is tapping the tip of his knife on the other side of the door. “Tick, tock…tick, tock. What’ll it be, baby?”

We’re the same size but he can still overpower me. Can’t use my hands so I can’t fight. No time to 

He has the home field advantage. I probably wouldn’t be able to hide if I made it outside, even if I did I might freeze. 

Not sure if I can outrun him…

“Times up.” The floor creaks once again as he moves away from the door. You hear his footsteps pace across the span of the room, pause, and then return in a matter of seconds. “So naive of you to assume I would have any one-way locks in this place.”

Every coherent thought, plan, and sense of security you had gained turns to TV static in your mind when the door handle starts rattling. Instinctively you dig your heels into the tile to push yourself farther into the bathroom, slinking back as far as the space will allow until your back hits the lip of the tub. 

White hot tears silently stain your cheeks as the rattling stops and the bathroom door swings open. 

Illuminated as only a knife-wielding silhouette in the doorway, Josh cocks his head to the side. He’s taking deep, dragging breaths like he just ran a marathon, and at some point in your separation he rid himself of his shirt and coat. “You didn’t even find something to cut the tape with? Not even an ambush, wow. I thought you were smarter than this, y/n.”

“You piece of shit, don’t fucking touch me!” You scream at him while he makes his way to you in three steps.

“Shut up.” He grabs the tape between your bound wrists and pulls, dragging you across the bathroom floor kicking and screaming. You thrash against him desperately, but he doesn’t let go until he throws you into the table. The wind is knocked right out of your lungs on impact, doubling you over on the floor while you try to catch your breath. There’s barely enough time to recover from the blow before he’s grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you onto a dining chair. 

Even after he’s forced you into a sitting position and affixed the blade of his knife to your neck, he holds your head high by the roots. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that this would go easier if you just listened to me?” He lowers himself to your level and shouts in your face, laying the edge of the knife into your skin until it stings so badly that you have to grit your teeth to bear it. Small red beads pearl up to the surface under the foreign metal. A fresh pool of tears spills over your lower lashes, and you track his eyes as he follows their trail down your cheeks. 

“That was scary, huh?” You nod once. “I’m sorry, baby. Everything’s gonna be just fine if you listen from now on, can you do that for me, baby?” You nod again. 

“Good...good girl.” 

He kisses you softly on your temple as he stands, just like Jake always does when you’re upset. You sniff the remnants of tears away and try not to think about it too much. Without taking his eyes off you, he plucks a roll of duct tape off the table and holds it up for you to see. “I have to tape you to the chair, but you have to be still. If you can be still and let me do that, I'll give you your hands back, okay?” You don’t say anything, but you look at him in a way so he knows you understand. He searches your face for a moment before giving you a tight nod and going to work.

Finally, he releases his hold on your hair, and against your better judgment you stay still just like he’s asked you to. Your stares bore into each other so intensely that you should be able to see into his soul. His eyes give away that he’s noticed your conscious choice to cooperate - you think he might even be proud of your restraint. You used to think that his eyes gave everything away. You turned out to be wrong. 

He lowers himself, bending one leg to kneel in front of you, and the knife follows - trailing the sharp tip from where it had left a long, scarlet-red opening in your skin. and then trails down the ridge of your breast. He briefly pauses,  turning the knife in his hand so he can rest the chilled, flat side of the blade against your nipple - you’re not sure what kind of response he’s looking for, but you try not to give him one. The point scrapes against your abdomen with just enough pressure to etch another pronounced, red line into the delicate skin as he travels to your inner thigh. It finally stalls at your knee while Josh wraps the fingers of his free around your ankle so he can guide your leg into the position he wants. Then, as he pulls a corner of the tape free, the tip comes to rest on the meat of your calf.

With the smallest amount of force, he could drive the blade right through the muscle and out the other side, if he so desired. He’s doing a bang up job of keeping you guessing - letting the uncertainty of his next move keep you docile as he binds your ankles to the legs of the chair, one at a time. You put up no fight when he spreads your knees, or when he briefly gazes into the space he’s made between them and absently licks his lips.

“I told you, a little cooperation would make this easier for us both.” Audacity coats his words like a thick blanket as he steps behind you. He slices the tape binding your wrists down the middle and peels off each remaining piece, freeing your hands at last. 

Before he takes his place at the seat across the table, he grabs one of them and raises it slightly to inspect it. Your loose limbs are weak and tingly, the abnormal position kept you from noticing how swollen and red your wrists had become. Struggling against the tape left discolored indents where it had rolled up slightly, and ugly welts puckered your skin where the tape was ripped off. 

“I’m sorry about this.” He rotates your arm in his grasp, analyzing his handiwork like an artist analyzes a finished piece for imperfections.

“Sure you are,” you say flatly and snatch your hand away from him, eliciting a small chuckle from Josh as he turns to sit in his assigned seat. 

“None of this would have been necessary if you’d just learned how to play nice.” He wipes the blade of the knife on the corner of the tablecloth before setting it down with the others. The bottle of wine is already open, making it effortless for him to pop the cork and pour a small amount into two glasses. When he sets one of the glasses in front of your table setting, you make a point to ignore it - instead massaging the insides of your wrists as you rest them on the table. 

“There’s no ‘let’ in this equation, Josh.” Your eyes nearly scratch your brain from how far you roll them to the back of your skull. “I’m here against my will, remember?”

“Watch that tone of yours.” He narrows his eyes and speaks through a mouthful of half-chewed strawberry, “You didn’t give me much of a choice on that one, now did you?”

“You had no choice but to kidnap me?! Honestly, what did you think would happen? That I would just roll over and take it? You’re so fucking stupid sometimes Josh.”

“I said, watch your fucking tone with me.” He slams his hands on the table, rattling the flatware enough to make you flinch, and knocks his chair off its feet when he stands forcefully. “And yeah, you’re damn right I had no choice. I didn’t even know dating you was an option until you started fucking my brother, but I did know I was better for you than him. Especially after hearing about how you like him to fuck you, but you didn’t even consider me until you got lingering eyes.”

“Is that what this is about?” you scoff, gesturing to the room around you. “Walking in on you earlier was an accident, and I’m sorry about it but this is not-“

“Oh, I had this planned long before tonight, that was just the icing on the cake. I’m talking about everything else,” he cuts you off. 

“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s a lie, but you’re too scared to admit that you know exactly what he's referring to. 

“Really, y/n?! Fuck you, you flirted with me right in front of Jake more than once! You couldn’t have made it more obvious if you tried, then I had to get disciplined by my little brother for something I didn't even do and watch you turn around and be happy with him! How do you think that made me feel?!”

His honesty hits you like a freight train. Nothing about what he said is untrue, you did make moves on him when your inhibitions were obscured, and you chose to sweep it under the rug when you were sober. When Jake confronted you about it and you could’ve come clean, you lied. The possibility of it coming back to bite you in the ass was overshadowed by the fear of taking the blame and its consequences.

The sludge-like feeling of guilt you’d tried to avoid settles in the pit of your stomach, but you envelope it humbly and shove it down inside you to be dealt with later. You knew he had to have a reason - even if it wasn’t good enough to justify his actions, there had to be one.

“I thought we were friends, Josh. Why didn’t you just talk to me like a normal person?” 

“How could I with all the mixed signals you were giving me? Cold shoulder one day and full on flirting the next time you happened to get so wasted you probably don’t even remember doing it.”

Is this my fault?

“I'm sorry I made a few drunken mistakes, but that doesn’t mean you get to hold me hostage! Jake really isn’t gonna let you get away with it this time and you’ll crumble as soon as he gets his hands on you.” Your blood is starting to boil, and you can feel your temper begin to bubble just under your skin.

“Oh, so you’re threatening me now?” He snatches a switchblade from the table, flipping it open as he marches towards you.

You scramble for a knife on the table to defend yourself, but he left them just out of your reach. Desperate for any protection, you grab the fork just in front of you and brandish it in his direction. “Stay away from me with that thing, I’m serious!” 

“That’s so cute,” he chastises, pausing only for a moment before he lunges at you and grabs the wrist that wields your weapon of choice. You use your free hand to beat on his arm, but he squeezes so hard that you cry out in pain and the fork falls from your grip involuntarily. It crashes to the ground and you attempt to swing at him with your free hand, leaving you wide open for him to press his blade to the apple of your cheek. 

You freeze the moment you feel the steel against your skin, and he leans in until his face is barely a few inches from yours. “Jacob is the least of my worries, princess. I can hold my own. Besides, I know you don’t really want him interfering.”

“What are you talking about?” Usually Jake has him quaking in his boots when it comes to tests of dominance, so this sudden show of power confuses you.

“Earlier, you asked me if I was going to tell Jake about our encounter. Why was that?” He narrows his eyes again, waiting to see if your response will match the one he’s clearly looking for.

“I just… I didn’t want him getting upset.”

“Wrong. I think you didn’t want me to tell him that you didn’t close that door right away.” He grabs the back of your chair with the hand that was confining your wrist, and leans it on the back two legs so he’s looking down directly into your eyes. “I think you didn’t want me to tell him how much you liked it.”

“You don’t know that.” It comes out much softer than you intended.

“Don’t I?” He raises his eyebrows and speaks with a knowing tone that sounds way too confident for your taste.

You flinch when the knife moves, but it leaves your face and instead slips carefully under the straps of the clothing still clinging to your body, still barely dried at all. He cuts through them at both shoulders and straight down middle, pulling the pieces from your body in a hurry. Fighting him would just prove fruitless, so you stay silent and let him finish. 

Next he goes for the waistband of your skirt, effortlessly slicing through the fabric like it was made of paper. You hang your head when he removes it and try to close your legs as much as your restraints will allow. 

“No panties, I see. Were you expecting something?”

“It’s a matching set, I couldn’t find the bottoms.” You avoid eye contact, looking for any bit of relief you can get.

“You mean, these?” He fishes a small bundle of fabric from his pocket and tosses it onto the table. It unravels on impact, revealing to you the red lace panties that you were hoping would end up on Jake’s floor tonight. “Sorry I forgot to return them in time, but I can pay my late fee.”

You were so unprepared for this level of shock that he’s rendered you frozen, head spinning in search of an explanation for how he could have possibly gotten his hands on them - but nothing is making sense amongst your frenzied thoughts.

“Where did you get those?” You try to remain stone-faced so as to not let him feed off the fear coursing through you.

“I have my ways - it’s not important.” He smiles evilly, obviously enjoying this more than he should be.

“No, it is important. How did you get them?” Your eyes are glued to the lace as realization sets in - the realization that Josh’s delusion is much more dangerous than you originally thought. 

“Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” 

“Jesus fucking christ, Josh. Be fucking straight with me, right the fuck now. You owe me that at least.”

“Why? What are you scared of?” He grins like he already knows what you're thinking, and you think he just might. You’re not expecting it when he pinches one of your nipples between his fingers, making you twitch under the touch. It’s more surprising to you that he was able to restrain himself for as long as he did.

You’re connecting the dots in your head. It makes sense now. What you thought was a bloody cloth he was holding in the bathroom was actually a pair of your panties. You’d worn those panties just a few days prior for a Christmas party, and you intentionally washed them to be ready for tonight. They should have been in your drawer ready to go where you know you put them, but at some point in the last 48 hours, Josh took them from your home with the knowledge you’d be expecting to wear them again. Not only that, but he knows, to a degree of unknown certainty, that the image of him has been playing on a non-stop loop in your head.

“You were in my house?” you ask, already so sure of his crime that it sounds more like a statement than a question. 

“You really ought to start locking your bedroom window.” His grin grows wider as he watches light bulbs turn on in your head. 

“…And it wasn’t just one time.” You’re just processing your thoughts out loud now. For him to be so sure of himself that he feels confident enough to kidnap you, he had to have snuck in on more than one occasion.

He throws the knife behind him and it clunks loudly against the china as it lands somewhere on the table. He grabs your neck just under the jaw and forces you to look at him.

“What if I told you I've been in your house so much that I know your deepest darkest thoughts?” His voice is deep, desperate, and deranged. “I know what you talk about on facetime with your friends and I know what you ask Jake to do to you in the heat of a moment. I even know exactly when you’re about to cum based on the sound of your-“

“Stop.” He’s trying to break you - he’s showing all his cards trying to get you to bend to his will, and it’s working.

“Does it make your pretty cunt wet thinking about me watching your every move from inside the safety of your own home? What if I told you I snuck in and touched myself while I watched you sleep? Does it make you tingle?” He’s so close you can smell the crisp mint of his mouthwash, and see the pores dotting his golden skin.

“Stop it!” You curse the chills you get when his words reach your eardrums, tickling something primal in you that hasn’t been touched in much too long. 

“You’re just as fucked up as I am, princess. I've heard what you talk about on facetime with your friends and I know what you ask Jake to do to you. I know you’re a dirty little slut who wants to be forced to her knees.”

You’re filled with shame thinking about how much he’s been witness to. You’ve confided in your friends about things you wouldn’t dream of telling Jake. All your kinkiest fantasies, the things you’ve said while swooning over celebrities, everything you wish Jake would do that you’re too scared to ask for - Josh heard it all.

Not only had he heard it - he heard it and he liked it.

Then it hits you… Josh was so worked up thinking about all the depraved fantasies that could be swirling around your noggin that he was going to spill his load for you right then and there. There’s no way he could’ve possibly waited until he got home to fill his head with your scent. 

But why would he do that if he had plans to kidnap me later…

“You left the door unlocked on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” He smirks.

“You wanted me to see you because you thought I would like it.”

“And I bet you like it so much more now that you know what I was thinking about. You’ve been thinking about me since it happened, haven’t you?”

You want to say no. You want to refuse him and spit in his face, but something is stopping you. Maybe it’s the desire deep inside you, but it’s probably his hand that’s been creeping up your thigh. 

“Don’t think I can’t see how you’ve been squirming in that seat. Come on, baby. Kiss me.”

He leans in to kiss you and kneads your soft flesh in his hand for good measure. When his lips collide with yours, you don’t give in immediately. You feel yourself start to soften to him, the moderately chapped quality of his pillowy lips doesn’t offend you, and you feel yourself giving in. That’s when sirens sound off in your brain. 

Instinctively, you push him away. 

I shouldn’t be enjoying this…

“Dammit, y/n!” He winds his hand back as if he means to strike you, but when you wince away from him he spins around and punches the air. “You can’t hide from me! You can’t hide from who you are, so what are you running from?! Just give yourself to me!”

“I can’t!” you scream back at his sudden outburst. It looks as though he’s snapped, pacing the room back and forth with his head in his hands in his version of a tantrum. He pulls at his hair by the roots as he processes some sort of inner turmoil. You thought you’d seen the last of scary Josh, but yet again, you were wrong. 

He paces the room once more before turning back to the knives laid out on the table. He pursues them quickly, hovering his hand over each one before settling on the same one he started with - a mid-sized hunting knife with a smooth wooden handle. 

“You can, you’re just scared of what our dear mutual friend would have to say about it.” He stares down at the knife, adjusting his grip around it. 

Your lower lip begins to quiver at the thought of what he actually might say if he really knew how you felt. He might have an inkling of your lust for him since the incident, but as far as he was concerned you belonged to him - mind, body, and soul. Would he be angry? Broken? Would he ever speak to you again?

He takes your face in his hands, sandwiching the handle against your cheek so the blade glides into your hair. The sound of it scraping against the strands makes you shiver from your nose to your toes. “I know what you want, baby. Give it up.”

“I don’t think I can, Josh… but I want to.” There's a real apology in your voice. You can see on his face just how much restraint he’s harnessing, either to keep from hurting you or taking advantage of you - though you’re sure they’re not mutually exclusive in his mind. 

“He isn’t going to find out, princess. Don’t you think it’s about time you indulge a little?” He sprinkles a giggle over the end of his rhetorical question. You’d probably find his sentiment rather cute if it wasn’t followed by another drastic switch in his demeanor - he grabs the edge of the table and shoves it, toppling it over to the side, everything on it crashing to the floor. Glasses and plates shatter on impact, creating an ear splitting noise, and you curse him silently for nearly giving you whiplash with his two-faced tendencies. You’re about to yell at him when you see he’s made room to pull up his chair directly in front of yours, so close that when he sits he has to spread his legs wider than yours to keep your knees from touching. “I want you to touch yourself for me.”

“W-what?” You were not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. 

“Touch yourself… nice and slow. It’s only fair.” He leans his elbows on his knees and taps the knife against your bare thigh. Your hands begin to move toward your center before jerking back slightly in a breath of uneasiness. “Don’t get shy on me now, I’ve seen how you open up for him.” 

You already know that he’s being serious - this exact scenario is one you’d talked about with Jake once that ultimately got shot down, but you search his eyes anyway. All that’s there is raw, unbridled lust, whirring around in his eyes like hurricanes made of desperation. Not a flicker of apprehension, or pity - nothing that makes you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed as you usually would. 

Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a feral animal, you lower one hand to your clit and rub tight circles over it. There’s already a great amount of wetness creeping up your slit, making all of your movements extra sweet on the sensitive bud. When you slide one finger farther down to meet your entrance, it squelches as it slips inside, evidencing to you both that you’re more turned on than you realized. His eyes widen and a hum comes from low in his throat. You’re too pleased with how much he’s enjoying you to suppress the smile that comes to your lips. 

You continue to tease yourself, sliding your one finger out far enough to circle your clit a few more times before returning to your warm embrace. The combination makes you moan, but you don’t stifle it in favor of watching the erection grow in Josh’s pants until he reaches for his belt. You reward him with another moan when he pulls out his cock and rolls his fist over it for the second time tonight. 

It really is very similar to Jake’s, more than you’d care to admit. Thick, smooth, and mushroom-tipped - it’s easier to appreciate at this distance how gorgeous it is. 

I wonder if they taste similar, too. 

The thought shocks you a bit, but you let it live. A variety of other intrusive thoughts make their presence known now that you’ve moved on to a place of acceptance. One in particular feels especially promising…

I wonder how worked up I can get him.

Eager to earn more reactions from him, you dial up the sultry factor. Your free hand comes up to cup your breast, kneading it between your fingers and squeezing it against its counterpart. Your back arches slightly, sending a roll through your body, and you bite your lower lip as a cherry on top. 

His jaw drops as he watches you make a fool out of him. It’s nice to be admired in this way you’ve never been admired before, but it does amuse you how easily he became putty in your hands with a bat of your eyelashes.

“You gonna stare all night?” You snicker as you tease him, and he falls to his knees in front of you at your thinly veiled invitation. Cock still in hand, he leaves a trail of kisses up your calf to your knee where he rests his head. You let him stay there gawking at the drawn out movements of your hand against your pussy. His hips rut into his fist, and you can tell he’s sped up his strokes based on the movement of his arm. Though his stamina does impress you, part of you worries he might be nearing his end - and another, more confusing part of you, wants to keep that from happening just yet. 

“Josh-“ you coo at him, begging with his name.

“Shh, don’t stop. Play with that pretty clit a little more for me.”

You roll your eyes but do as he says, focusing your attention on babying the bundle of nerves. Tension in your abdomen builds towards a steadily approaching orgasm, but it plateaus when he raises his first two fingers to his lips, and parts them. He wets the digits in his mouth, relinquishing them once he deems them ready to find their way to your entrance. You let him do so, happily - savoring the precious look on his face when he curls his fingers into your sweet spot and your walls tighten around him. He looks as though he could cum right there on the oak flooring. 

“Fuck, baby… it’s like you were made for me,” he says through bared teeth, clenched like it’s the only thing holding onto his composure. 

You let your head loll back slightly to enjoy the expert technique of his fingers paired with yours, until you hear shuffling around on the floor below. His knife had been set down, almost entirely forgotten by you, but now that it’s back in play it has your full attention. He withdraws his hand, replacing it with his toy of choice. 

You stop your movements and grab his hand, stopping him from advancing any farther. He glances up at you momentarily and, for the first time all night, he sounds like himself again when he softly says, “It’s okay.”

You loosen your grip so he can continue, but don’t let go entirely out of abundance of caution. Electricity buzzes in your tingling core, building anticipation for the horrifying yet thrilling sensations he’s about to put you through. He continues gliding the steel up your inner thigh before turning the knife in his hand and teasing the blunt end of the handle into the pool of your wetness. 

This fantasy is one he’d thought of all on his own, you’d never alluded to something like it, but it excites you more than anything you could’ve dreamt up alone. You love how he makes you feel, and you want to hate yourself for it, but how could you hate yourself for something that feels so good?

A map of goosebumps arises as he runs the butt of the knife closer to your opening, and a chill ripples across them when he finally pushes inside you. The stretch is delicious, causing your clit to twitch when your body instinctively tries to pull it farther in. His tongue flicks out of his mouth, rolling in the air miming the way he would run it over your skin if he weren’t so mesmerized by your pink lips swallowing up the handle of his beloved weapon. He can’t seem to look anywhere else as he pulls it all the way out before shoving it back in as far as it will go, and he repeats the motion. “Who makes you feel good, baby? Who fucks you like the dirty slut you are? Tell me.”

Your grip tightens on his arm again, this time digging your nails into his skin as your mouth falls open to moan his name. Your reactions happen of their own volition, coming naturally to you without much thought. “Oh, Fuck. Josh.. you do. ”

“You want me inside now, don’t you?” 

“I want-“

A bright light flashes through the window and pulls you out of the moment before you can fully finish the thought. 

“Fuck.” He bolts to his feet at the speed of light, forcing his still-hard cock back into his pants as well as he can, wincing at the pain of bending it while still rock-solid.  

Josh stands with his back to you facing the door in a defense position. You curl up in a ball behind him.

“What do we do?” Your elevated pitch indicates you’re panicking at the thought of being caught in such a compromising situation - hoping and praying that Josh doesn’t let whoever it is inside. Truly they won’t know just how easily you gave in to temptation, but they’ll see the look of guilt on your face and smell it hanging in the air. It’s practically painted across your skin in blood. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” He does his best to soothe you and reaches out for your hand to give it a quick reassuring squeeze “It’s probably nothing.”

The sound of a car door slamming and gravel crunching under boot fall comes a second later.

“Josh?! I know you’re here, open the fucking door.” Just one pair of boots and one voice - Jake came alone.

“I told you not to come here.” You hardly recognize Josh’s voice anymore, he sounds like a completely different person. A person who’s doing their best not to lose their shit. 

Jake says something else that you can’t quite make out through his mumbles, but it doesn’t matter because right then the lock clicks open and in he comes.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Took Sam’s car. I had a feeling something was wrong when you didn’t just take her home, looks like I was right.” Jake moves to step around Josh, but he moves with him to continue body-blocking.

“This isn’t what we agreed, Josh. You were supposed to be careful with her.”

What?

“I was careful!” Josh defends, fists clenched at his sides.

“Then what the fuck is this?!” Jake points to the suspicious looking tools still on the table with the spilled wine. “Are you fucking torturing her?!”

“Jake.. I’m okay-“ you try to interject, you hate it when they fight, even now. It’s unnatural. 

“No! Of course not... Well, nothing serious. I just had to keep her in line! I would never hurt her, Jake.” Josh hesitates for a moment, allowing Jake to peer around him at you before Josh takes a staggered breath and blurts out, “I love her.”

“Bullshit, you love her. You don’t kidnap and torture the people you love. Get a fucking grip.” Jake loses his patience at the admission and puts his hands on his brother, shoving him out of the way like a heavy curtain. Josh catches himself with his hands, but ends up on the floor while Jake drops to his knees in front of you. He immediately takes your face between his palms so he can assess what damage has been done, asking you almost absentmindedly if you’re in any pain while he does so. 

“Wait, don't take her.” Josh grabs his shoulder and attempts to pull him away from his task, but Jake shakes him off easily. “Jake, stop! Please, please don’t take her from me.”

“I gave you more than you deserved and you took advantage of her.” Jake sneers.

“You don’t get it, she likes it! She wanted me to! If you’d just listen to her -”

This is all starting to be too much for you, trying to process so much information at once. You worry a panic attack might be brewing, or you could shut down altogether. 

“You don’t get to tell me what she does and doesn't want. End of discussion.” He begins working on gently peeling off the tape still stuck to your wrists and ankles. 

“You did this?” you whisper, just loud enough for Jake to hear. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t know it was gonna go this far.” Jake mumbles and looks up at you with pained eyes so tender you don’t know whether to yell at him or cry to him. He snags a faux fur from the bed and drapes it over your shoulders. “We’ll talk about it later. I’m taking you home.”

You know him well enough to recognize when he’s telling the truth, so you allow him to wrap his arms under your knees and around your back so he can lift and cradle you out to the waiting car. 

“Y/n, please, you have to tell him!” Josh trails behind you, pleading with you over Jake’s shoulder.

“Fuck off, Josh,” Jake barks without so much as a backward glance.

He sets you carefully in the passenger seat and reaches across you to buckle your seatbelt for you before taking his place in the driver's seat. As Jake backs out of the gravel drive, Josh stands watching in the open doorway. Bright red streaks are visible on his arms, even from this distance you can tell where you scratched him. He looks so defeated standing there watching Jake whisk you away. You - the alleged love of his life. You’re not sure what it is inside of you that's making you feel almost sorry for him. Regardless of how conflicted you feel, you decide to raise your hand just high enough for him to see it, and wave goodbye. 

His head lifts when he sees your gesture, an indiscernible expression flickers across his face. In return, he blows a kiss in your direction just as Jake turns onto the main road and drives away.

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

thank you for reading

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[emerald-truth]

tarot reading for scavenger hunt item 8

One day, before the big snooze, Frank did tarot readings for some of her girlfriend's mysterious coworkers with her special lovers' deck. Here is what she found:

Three of Lydia's coworkers visited me that day to ask about their work crushes. Without giving away anything about what they do of course. Just like Lydia, honestly! For all of them though, I used my lovers' deck to do a reading with one card for their perspective on the relationship, one for the crush's perspective, and one for their relationship and future overall.

My first visitor was a shy, sweet American named Felix. The poor boy told me he was in love with his best friend. I've seen plenty like him before, pining for someone who only ever notices them in the wrong way. At least as far as they can tell. But we're here to see what the cards can tell, so let's consult them.

The nine of cups shows us Felix's feelings about the relationship. Cups are an emotional suit and the nine is a strong expression of that emotion. But even just from speaking with him I could tell Felix has strong feelings for this person. He shouldn't worry about whether the friend will turn him away if he confesses because his love for them is already obvious, even if they don't realize its nature. This is also the only non reversed card in the spread, showing that although Felix's feelings are certain, his friend's and their future are weaker at the moment and will depend on what actions he takes.

The eight of staves reversed represents a sudden change that is being delayed or held back. This suggests that Felix's friend is waiting for him to make the first move, after which he will make a decisive choice.

The two of coins represents balance, especially in work or practical matters. Knowing that this is a work friend especially makes me think this represents how well Felix and his friend balance each other out and work well together. Because it's reversed however, there's an aspect of that relationship they have yet to unlock, perhaps a romantic one.

My overall advice to Felix is that his friendship is strong and his friend knows they're very loved, so this is just the right time to try to take that friendship further. If he takes the right actions, there could be a big change in his relationship which makes it more complete.

My next customer was a man named Alec. I do hope he found some peace in his life, he seemed very wound up. But the cards do predict some possible romantic success in his future.

The five of cups is a card that represents great turmoil, but the fact that it is reversed means Alec is beginning to move past those troubles. In this card, someone looks only at the negatives in life and never sees the possibilities. Being reversed in this position suggests that by considering a new relationship, Alec is starting to find the paths to happiness in his life and recover from a time of despair.

The prince of coins is someone who works hard and has a materially successful future ahead of them. In this reading, we can assume this diligent person will put that same effort into a relationship with Alec and their mutual wealth. They are also someone who enjoys the physical pleasures of this world, another positive in a romantic partner.

In the lovers' deck, Arthur and Guinevere represent the archetype of power. Like King Arthur and his queen of myth, this also comes with the wisdom to wield that power together, building on each other's strengths. I can only say that if Alec lands his crush the world had better watch out!

My advice to Alec is that this seems like a great relationship to pursue which will bring him great happiness and out of a dark time, but first he should make sure he's ready to move on from his past regrets in order to be a fulfilling partner.

My last guest only introduced himself as Q. He seemed doubtful of the tarot, but willing to ask for its advice in a trying relationship. Love and hate are not always so different from each other, and like many before him, he spoke of someone he had at first hated but frustratingly come to love. Despite his lack of faith, the cards gave him this sound answer.

Arrows in this deck represent the importance of communication in relationships and (like the traditional swords) knowledge. Both being reversed here suggests there is some knowledge lacking on both sides of this relationship. The ten of arrows or swords can also represent a decisive ending. Combining these two, when Q improves his communication with his crush, an end will come to this difficult phase of the relationship.

The queen of arrows is the feminine culmination of this suit, suggesting that Q's crush has the potential to be an open and eloquent communicator. However, its reversed position and Q's comments about this person's aggravating communication style (or lack thereof) tell me something is preventing them from sharing the interpersonal expertise they possess.

Despite these roadblocks, the final card is the famous lovers Romeo and Juliet, representing tradition. This means their relationship may take on a traditional structure like marriage. However it may also be that societal tradition is the issue constraining their relationship at the moment. Most relationships flourish when people let go of societal expectations while also creating their own forms of structure.

My advice to Q is that he try to open up to his crush and encourage them to be open with him. I would also recommend they try to find the traditions that are important to them without worrying about what other people think, just like Romeo and Juliet. Although that story is a tragedy, with the right choices, this one won't be!

After all that, I discovered that despite the secrecy, Lydia's job does have the usual workplace drama! I'm sure all these men will find happiness with their crushes. (through the power of multishipping, all of Frank's positive predictions can come true!)

[inkscapedoodles]

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then, send to your last ten people in your notifs (anonymously). You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity ❤️

Ooooo, an Anon Ask that's probably chain mail or something? Little do they know that I try and answer most everything I'm asked cuz I enjoy engagement on this site! And I will instead tag some mutuals and make this a positive little game! Ahem, here goes!!

My friends!!! Hiiiii everyone! I love interacting and being with both my virtual and non-online buddies, because they are the best! Each of my friends get to claim pieces of my brain like a community garden lol.

2. Music! It's everywhere, and everything to me!! I've got so many favorite songs 'n genres, and it's really a part of my life I could never ever live without. I heart music forever :3

3. Food! Now, I know not everyone is a foodie, but I definitely am! Cooking and baking are great bonding activities imo, and you can learn a lot about the world (and people around you) by watching what kinds of cuisines cross over tables!!

4. Mushrooms! Not necessarily for eating, I just think they are cool! I have two lovely books on mycology and fungi that I need to dedicate some more time to, and upon completing them, I will become the Mushroom Master! Mwahaha! XD

5. Plush toys & stuffed animals!! I have a tiiiiiiny problem with how many I've collected lol, but I cherish them all dearly and am 100% willing to go into debt for some cool plushies. If I am not holding them in my arms or nestling in a pile of them on my bed, then they are in The Birdcage for my viewing enjoyment!

Phew, now that my spiel is all over with, time to tag some lovely mutuals! Feel free to answer as much or as little as you want in this lil game; I'm just curious about what might make people happy :]]

@augmentedchordsofficial, @adriftinthev0id, @god-shits-in-my-dinner, @spectrum-studios, @i-ideate

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One More Sleep pt.1

batboys x reader

(A/N): Happy Holidays all! I was listening to this song and decided to write a blurb series about the batboys getting home early Christmas morning and have actually stuck to it so here's part 1! Part 2 will be out tomorrow but what it contains will depend on what I get written in the next 24 hours so we'll see what happens. [Edit: find pt. 2 here.] Many thanks to Red for brainstorming help. This series wouldn't exist if not for them. Also thanks to my sister who has read these and deemed them "tooth-rotting fluff." She's a Duke fan despite knowing nothing about DC other than what she hears from me.

And I've decided to dedicate these two parts to my lovely mutuals so @citrinesparkles, this one is for you. I hope you enjoy!

And Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!

total wc: ~1800

warnings: non-graphic mentions of injury, exhaustion, specific mentions of Christmas, so. much. fluff.

~~

Dick Grayson

wc: ~700

Dick yawns as he glances up at the screen in the airport. Baggage claim 6 holds the bags for the nonstop Christmas Eve flight from California to Gotham, apparently. He checks his watch: 1:30am. Well, Christmas now. Usually his family doesn't take commercial flights back from missions, but Dick’s cover demanded he take one from San Francisco to Gotham so he could use visiting California as his excuse. 

Dick hikes his bag a little higher on his shoulders, wincing a little as his elbow tweaks even with the brace, and heads to the escalator that would lead him to the baggage claim. This early on Christmas morning, the airport is quieter than usual and the everyday Gotham bustle has been replaced with a weird sort of hollowness ringing in the air. Dick stretches his neck out—sore from hours on the javelin then the plane—and stops short. He can feel a smile spreading across his face. It’s nearly 2am on Christmas day and yet there you are: standing by the baggage claim with a thermos in one hand, the other crossed over your chest. He sees the moment you lay eyes on him in real time, when your eyes light up and a smile splits your features, and there’s a beat of warmth in his chest. He gets to have that—no one else. 

Dick picks up his pace as you head towards him. And then your arms are around him and the solemnity of an empty airport can’t get to him anymore. 

You pull back first, arms around his neck shifting for one hand to cup his face before you pull him to a kiss. 

“Merry Christmas, Dickie,” you say, forehead resting against his temple. 

“Merry Christmas, babe,” Dick whispers. He pulls back this time, his left hand winding around your free one. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

You smile, handing him the thermos. 

“Bruce sent me the flight details—it’s hot chocolate, I made it before I left—Bruce sent me the details and I said I’d pick you up to surprise you.” 

Dick squeezes your hand as the two of you walk back towards the baggage claim. It’s moving now, a stilted circling around, though there are no bags yet. 

“Best gift I could have asked for.” 

“Oh so you don’t want the matching sweaters I bought for us the other day? Okay then.” 

Dick hands you the thermos so he can grab his suitcase as it appears around the bend, playing devastated. 

“Oh come on babe you know I have a weakness for sweaters,” he teases. You take the suitcase from him as soon as it touches the ground, swapping it with the thermos, and pull your linked hands over your shoulder, guiding him out of the airport and into the cold Gotham air. His energy is flagging now, even as the wind bites at his face, adrenaline from seeing you fading back into the after-mission kind of tired that a half-nap on a plane can’t fix. 

Dick blinks his eyes open and he’s standing in front of your car. He opens the passenger door on autopilot, dropping his bag at his feet and placing the thermos into a cup holder in the center console. He climbs in and pulls the door shut before putting on his seatbelt and leaning against the window. Behind him, the trunk slams shut. The driver’s door opens and you turn the key in the ignition, sparking a burst of warm air from the vents. Dick shivers, still leaning against the car window. 

Your hand, cold from outside, finds his and squeezes. Dick squeezes back, eyes half lidded now. He wants nothing more than to turn on the radio and sing Christmas songs with you for the 25 minutes it’ll take to get to his childhood home, but he’s quickly losing to his exhaustion. 

There’s a nose pressed briefly against his cheekbone and warm lips pressed to his cheek for just a second before they withdraw. 

“Take a nap,” you suggest. You selflessly know what’s best for him, always. Making sure you know a million times over will just have to be his new year’s resolution. He’s too tired now.  “I’ll wake you when we get to the manor. Everyone’s already expecting us down at noon tomorrow. We’re doing brunch.” 

And Dick, warm in adoration and surrounded by pine-scented car air freshener, lets his eyes flutter closed. 

Jason Todd:

wc: ~450

The first thing Jason sees when the door opens is the clock above the electric fireplace, 3:02am blinking at him in red. The second is the christmas tree, bathing the living room in a soft glow. The fact that the tree is on tells him you’re not asleep in bed. If you were, you’d have left a lamp on for him. Jason feels his lips quirk up as he strides further into the apartment. There you are, on the couch, like you try to be every night he’s out late. Sometimes you wait him out: finish a book or binge watch a TV show. Sometimes, he gets home to you passed out on the couch. 

Tonight, you’re dead to the world, snoring faintly. Jason feels something in his chest squeeze pleasantly. You’re wearing his long-sleeved tee, wrapped in the blanket Alfred made him years ago. He is yours and you are his, and if the fireplace doesn't say that well enough, then the matching apartment keys certainly do. 

Jason detangles you from the blanket before pulling you into his arms. He’s done this same song and dance time and time before—you lose the battle to sleep more than you win—but the knowledge that you love him enough to try still sits heavy in his chest. All these years in, and he can’t believe you choose him every night. Guilt settles in his chest as he places you on the bed, red sheets and holiday comforter pulled up over you. It’s Christmas morning now; he’s missed Christmas Eve. Again. And then he turns to the dresser and sees his santa pj pants and a shirt laid out on top and remembers that he’s so much better with you than without you and maybe that’s selfish but it’s Christmas and he’s allowed to be selfish just this once. 

A quick face wash, change into pjs, and one teeth brushing later, Jason’s crawling into bed. His hair is mostly dry from the shower he took at the batcave before he headed home, and he’s more grateful now that it’s not dripping down his neck than he was when Dick was needling him about it in the batcave. 

Your eyes blink blearily when he pulls the blankets up around him. 

“Jay?”  

You’re moving towards him before he can respond and Jason’s arms come up automatically to wrap around you. 

“Yeah,” he answers. His voice is hoarse, stripped from him by the unadulterated care you show him, even half-asleep. 

“Hm. Merry Christmas. I love you,” you say, shifting your head to rest on his chest. 

You’re asleep once more before his voice unsticks, and he tightens his grip, pulling you closer against him. 

“I love you too.” 

Duke Thomas:

wc: ~650

Duke opens the door to his shared apartment at 12:30am on Dec 25. He’s actually earlier than he thought he’d be. The snow that made his trip longer let up enough to let him head home 18 hours ago, which means he gets to wake up Christmas morning with his partner and he’s ecstatic. 

The first thing he hears is a rustling of paper and a frantic “Waitwaitwaitwait, close your eyes!”

Duke stops short, one hand over his closed eyes and the other shutting the front door behind him. 

“My eyes are closed,” he informs you, a smile crossing his face. He missed you so much. Duke can hear as you stand up and walk over to him, socked feet light on the floor. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” you warn as your arms wrap around him. He obeys even as he tips his head onto your shoulder. You smell like laundry detergent and holiday candles and home. 

A crushing hug later and you pull away, a hand on his back nudging him towards the bedroom. He nearly trips trying to kick off his shoes and lets you guide him. Once he’s crossed the bedroom doorway, Duke turns around to look at you. You’re in Christmas pajamas and your hair is messy, but your eyes are shining brightly even in the dim light. You pull him down for a quick kiss. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m done wrapping, okay? Now take a shower, you smell like a gym locker room.” 

Duke laughs and ducks his head down for another kiss. 

“I’d argue but I’ve also been smelling me recently so I agree.” You laugh back at him, squeezing his bicep before you turn back to the living room. 

“Love you!” Duke calls out as he closes the door. 

“Love you too!” 

Duke’s halfway through his shower before he realizes that he hasn’t wrapped his gifts. Okay, that’s not exactly fair. He’s wrapped some of them, when you and he wrapped everything for your respective families together before he left. He hasn’t wrapped your gifts. You take great joy in teasing him about it every year. He remembers to shop but always forgets the second step so you usually do it together. Except he can’t wrap your gifts with you there and now it’s Christmas and he still hasn’t done it.  

“Hey starlight?” Duke yells from just outside the bedroom door. He’s got a hand over his eyes again even though they’re closed, and is dressed in a t-shirt and pj pants—the pants match yours: dark green with Christmas lights on them.

“Yeah sunshine?” You call back. It’s a little absentminded, and he smiles at the routine call and response. He can’t remember when it started, but you started calling him sunshine at some point and you’re the nighttime to balance his day so he ran through a few and that one stuck. 

“Can I have the wrapping paper?” There’s a pause and then a laugh. 

“I’ve just got to cut paper for this last present and then I’ll bring it over.” There’s a little bit of shuffling and then scissors cutting paper and then a roll of wrapping paper bumping against his free hand. 

“Have fun,” you tell him, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “I’ll knock when I’m done.”

Duke’s working on his second gift when there’s a knock on the bedroom door.  

“When you’re done, I’ll be on the couch.” 

“Thanks, starlight!” Duke calls back through the door. Two more gifts and he’s finished, and he opens the door to walk back into the living room. Duke leans the present against the ones already at home under the tree then stands up, eyes flicking to the clock before landing on you. 

“Bed?” You ask, reaching a hand out. 

“Bed,” he agrees, taking your hand. Sure, it’s Christmas already, but the presents are second to eight hours wrapped in each other’s arms.